//------------------------------// // 27 Three Faces in the Dark, Part One // Story: Continuity Disrupted // by Doug Graves //------------------------------// Twilight Sparkle likes to be in control. In fact, if you were to look up the definition of ‘control’ in the dictionary, there would be a picture of Twilight Sparkle, probably acing a test and looking smug. That’s a fun word, smug. Actually, the word 'like' is probably not nearly as strong as it needs to be either. To convey that ultimate satisfaction that Twilight derives from having one of her plans, her carefully planned plans - with all sorts of checklists and contingencies and calculated corollaries - come together. The word would probably work better being replaced by 'needs' or 'strongly desires' or 'has to has to has to'. It's not surprising that her cutie mark is practically the most primal actualization of control that exists. But today, this last hour, Twilight Sparkle has not been smug. Or in control. Or had a book, for that matter. She would have liked a dictionary right now, if only to beat some sense into those little balls of restless energy masquerading as fillies. The start of their harvesting together had gone so well. With Rainbow... occupied, Twilight had gone along with the trio in order to see how well they performed in their jobs. Sweetie Belle tagged along, since enough of the others were helping sort apples and she wanted to see what the harvesting jobs were like. Not that she actually wanted to kick trees or pull wagons, Rarity help her, but to spend a little more time with her sisters before the drudgery of apple sorting kicked in. Apple Bloom was doing great, with Big Mac still following behind and helping rejuvenate the trees, though the long hours were starting to get to him. That and the slow progress, especially with the newbies. But it was working, and the baskets were (slowly) getting loaded onto the smaller carts the fillies could drag around. It all started when Scootaloo had the idea that they should try to fit more apples into each basket. Ignoring, of course, that apples are delicate and easily damaged (the fruit, of course; Big Mac, Applejack, hay, any of the Apples would have objected strenuously and repeatedly if you were to suggest that they are as easily bruised as their namesake). Sweetie Belle thought this was a great idea, and wanted to help. After all, if they are limited by the number of baskets that can fit in one cart, then by getting more apples in one basket they can take more baskets per trip which means less trips which means less walking and more harvesting and more apples and- Well, you probably get the picture. However, much like many objects, apples object to trying to be in the same place as another apple. Violently. Twilight tried to stop them. She really did. But the moment she stopped Scootaloo from using her hooves to enforce her idea of how many apples can occupy the same spot at the same time, Apple Bloom had the brilliant idea to place an empty basket on top of the full basket and just jump up and down until the apples were good and compact. Kind of like they were making juice. And then Sweetie Belle used her magic to try to help. Which leads us to now. Currently, three fillies are cowering in front of Twilight, bits of goo dripping down each of them. The nearby trees are splattered with the remains of apples, both large and small. "And what did we learn from this?" Twilight says, one side of her smile twitching slightly. Only slightly, of course. "When harvesting apples, let them fall into the basket themselves," says Apple Bloom. "Don't try to pack too many apples into one basket?" says Scootaloo, "Don't use magic to try to pack too many apples in one basket?" says Sweetie Belle. Twilight Sparkle nods, "While all good lessons... actually, more like the same lesson repeated three different ways, I was thinking of a different thing we all should learn from this." Another hair of Twilight's mane spins off, twirling on its own while that facial spasm gets a little more pronounced. "I was hoping you would think of something, like, 'we should listen to Twilight Sparkle because she knows what she's doing'." "Really?" Scootaloo says, shaking a bit of the apple sauce covering her off and saying, "That wouldn't have been my guess in a hundred-" "Million," Apple Bloom appends. "Years," Sweetie Belle finishes, the three beaming up at Twilight's only slightly more infuriated look. “Scootaloo!” comes a call from the barn, the purple maned pegasus immediately dropping her contrite look to turn and figure out what is happening. Lemon yells as she gallops closer, “I need you to help me with your scooter!" “I’m on it!” comes Scootaloo’s fast reply, a hasty glance to Twilight and almost apologetic smile. "Sorry, Twilight, but we gotta help. Catch you later!" The three fillies scamper off, leaving a gaping Twilight. Lemon grins as the trio approaches, waving enthusiastically. "Sweet! I was hoping all three of you would come. I need your help!" She stops in one of the already harvested spots of the orchard, apple blossoms blooming around them and occasionally falling to the ground. "Wait, do you need my scooter?" Scootaloo says with a slight frown. "I thought you needed help getting somewhere." Lemon shakes her head, "Nah. Rainbow was just trying to get rid of me. Dam already said I could watch if Rainbow wants to show me any of her tricks." Scootaloo's muzzle curls to a scowl. "Anyway," Lemon says, glancing between her older sisters, "I need your help with Rainbow and Doug. You know they're both pushing themselves really, really hard. And in different ways. And I was listening to them, to try to help them get past the things they are struggling with and I think they are on the right track. But I’m worried that they might regress, and I think they need a bit more help, you know?” "Okay, so, what do you need us for?" Sweetie Belle asks, her smile widening at the thought. Lemon ponders for a second, "So, Doug needs help opening up with what he went through. And I think he just needs the chance to sit down when nothing else is going on. And maybe a little prompting. But Rainbow is the one we need to focus on first." "What's wrong with dam?" Scootaloo says, her scowl dropping as she cocks her head to the side. "I mean, I haven't really seen her, aside from when she was bringing in baskets. And she didn't look that bad. Kind of like she does after a really hard workout." "That's just it," Lemon says, "she's working really, really hard. But it's a type of workout she's not used to. She's using too much energy, and not giving herself enough time to recover. We need to ask Big Mac and Applejack and anypony else who might be able to offer some advice." “Well,” Apple Bloom says, “Ah think you’re going to have to stick with her, then.” “Help them realize what they have to do!” adds Scootaloo. Sweetie Belle pushes up, “And get them to focus on the spots that are important!” “You’re right!” Lemon grins, though a bit of her enthusiasm fades as she says, “But sometimes, they don’t want to listen to me. They just want to keep being stubborn! And it’s frustrating, to see all that hard work disappearing like a cake that the Cakes haven’t kept clear of dam’s cake hole!” Her frustrated growl echoes among the trees as she pulls out a large piece of paper and a few crayons from seemingly nowhere. “Okay, so let’s think through this,” Sweetie Belle says. She levitates up one of the crayons, shaking drawing a stick figure of Doug and Rainbow sitting together. “And we need some ideas of what they should do to do… what exactly?” “Rainbow is worried that she can’t keep up with Big Mac’s workload,” Lemon says, taking a red crayon herself and drawing a pony. “But it’s Big Mac,” Apple Bloom states, as if the reason is obvious. “She really thought she could do all he does on that farm?” “Yeah, that’s Rainbow Dash for ya,” Scootaloo says with a sigh. “She’s gotta prove herself.” “And she can’t keep going the way she’s going,” Lemon replies, her own sigh even louder, “and I don’t think she’ll do a great job of asking for help. Or taking the advice if she thinks that's what we're doing, you know? So, we’re going to need to figure out how to help her, but without her knowing that we’re helping her.” "Yeah, that's Rainbow Dash for you," Apple Bloom echoes, smirking at Scootaloo. Lemon grins, "Okay, here's what we're going to do. You three keep working, but try to get to Big Mac when Rainbow takes a wagon load back. Get some advice from him on ways she can expend less energy. I'm going to go to Applejack, do the same with her. Then, when I'm taking an empty wagon to Rainbow, we let her know what we found out without her realizing it." "Got it!" the trio chimes together, each reaching a hoof to the center. Though they have to lower their hooves to allow Lemon to tap it as well before they each scamper off. Meanwhile, Twilight stands there, almost disbelieving, as all three of her supposedly industrious helpers scamper off to do... whatever it is they are going to do. Should she do nothing, like she is right now? Magically levitate each of the fillies into the air so they can't escape, and not let them down until they promise to behave? Go ask for advice from somepony who knows more about how to corral those three? Hmm, that last one sounds familiar, but that isn't necessarily a bad thing. She looks around the orchard, spotting Big Mac taking a nap. Or a good cry session, but stallions don't like to be reminded that they do that from time to time. Both the red farmpony and his wheelchair are laying on the ground, at least, and he is facing away from her so she can't actually see if he is asleep or not. His barrel is moving up and down, so there is that. Twilight Sparkle walks up to Big Mac, softly saying, "Hey, Big Mac?" "Eeyup?" comes the equally soft reply, the stallion briefly glancing back to Twilight Sparkle before he returns to gazing at the many, many apple trees still waiting to be harvested. His mournful sigh echoes despite its quietness, the sad reminder that, while he is doing as much as he can, it might not even be enough. "So," Twilight starts off apologetically, rubbing one hoof against another, "our three main... helpers have run off on something else. And I'm not sure how much of a help Rainbow is going to be; she was pretty exhausted before." A regretful, "Eeyup," escapes his lips as Big Mac struggles to right his wheelchair without using one of his legs. His gaze travels from one tree to another, resting on one particular apple hanging low to the ground. In fact, he might be able to reach it if he just raised one hoof... "So, do you think I should go after them?" Twilight says, breaking Big Mac's concentration. He thinks for a few seconds before shaking his head, a soft, "Nnope." "Oh." Twilight looks up at the apple tree, plucking the solitary apple Big Mac was losing a staring contest with. It levitates to her mouth, taking a bite as she chews over what to do about all the apples. "So, Granny Smith doesn't want magic to be used during the competition. But, Rainbow's side is done for the day, right? So, there shouldn't be any difficulty with using magic, right?" Big Mac considers this for a few seconds. Which is worse: going against their traditions, that have worked this farm for generations? Or letting this crop of apples go to waste and be forced to renege on their promises and contracts? Or hire a bunch of outside help that isn't available, not this time of year. He ultimately sighs before he softly says, "Applejack ain't gonna be happy about it." "Nonsense!" Twilight says with a smile. Her horn lights; every apple on the four nearby trees gets plucked, levitating down to rest in the nearby buckets. She grins at her control - not one apple missed! "There. And nopony needs to know how it happened!" Big Mac slowly wheels himself to the nearest tree, trying to hide the physical manifestation of his growing captivation. "Ah think Ah'm in love," he mutters to himself.