Weather Manifesto

by _Medicshy


Preamble

The soft peach light of the morning sun peeked into the second story of Rosewater, gently spilling across the dusty rose walls and onto the two occupants of the room, both sleeping soundly in their ivy green bed. Slowly it crept up their bodies, ignoring most of the room in favor of the slumbering couple, eventually coming to a rest across the eyes of the pegasus in back.

Ink Well squinted at the encroaching light, annoyed by the intrusion to his peaceful rest. With a yawn he shifted slightly, letting the light wash his ink black mane as he placed his ear against his partner's back. Snuggling against her warmth, he could hear her heartbeat, and soon his breathing fell in sync with hers, a gentle rhythm that soothed him back towards sleep. Just a few more minutes, that was all he needed...

A lurch from Rose brought him from his sleepy stupor, pulling him from the gentle caress of sleep once more. A second one wracked her body, along with a gag, and instantly his heart fell. Oh no, not again... Another gagging noise was accompanied by Rose shooting up in bed as Ink Well rubbed her back, calling out to the room at large. “Ellipsis, fetch a bucket, quick!” A worried bark sounded from the other side of the room, followed by the sound of paws on wood.

Ink Well continued to rub Rose's back, trying to soothe her through the oncoming storm as she tensed again, gagging once more before moaning horribly. “It's okay, Rosy, it's okay. You're gonna be fine,” Ink Well comforted, peeking over the bed to track Ellipsis' progress. On the other side of the room hurriedly trotted a black and white spotted collie, a metal bucket in her mouth. She ran over to the side of the bed, placing the bucket down just in time as Rose wretched again, followed by the wet rush of her stomach emptying. As it did, Ink Well sighed in defeat, doing everything he could to comfort the vomiting mare. Looking to Ellipsis, he smiled weakly at the dog named for the three white dots that ran in a line down her head. “Good job girl, you got it just in time.”

Rose brought her head up from the bucket, a few remaining strings hanging from her mouth. “I'm so sorry Ink Well, I di-” She retched again, forced to return her face to the bucket or mess up the bed.

Ink Well shook his head, patting her gently on the back. “No, Rose, it's not like you wanted to get sick. Neither of us thought that cloud walking spell would fail when it did. We're just lucky the lake hadn't frozen over.” Rose nodded weakly, agreeing about all she had the strength or time for.

As Rose busied herself with her sickness, Ink Well's eyes roved over the room, landing first on the crystal flower sitting in a vase beside the bed. It was five months ago that he had proposed with it, and yet it hadn't wilted at all, looking if anything to have grown more vibrant since it was clipped. It was just like their love: growing stronger every day. Rose had even believed his entire tale of its origin despite the craziness of the whole thing. Sure he had the scar, the crystal flower, and the psychic paper as proof, but it was still something special to be trusted so thoroughly. Nopony else would have ever believed him.

Ink Well ran a hoof through her rose and pink mane, making sure it was well out of the way of her sick, and smiled as his eyes beheld a glint on her left ear. It was a small golden earring with three sapphires set in its intricate engraving, designed to look exactly like Ink Well's cutie mark. He had a matching one in his left ear, set with a ruby and an emerald cut in the shape of a rose. This was how they had decided to show their union. Unable to wear rings like unicorns and unwilling to keep it to necklaces or trinkets like most pegasus or earth pony couples did, after the wedding they visited a piercing parlor, making their union permanent. Nothing would remove the ring from their ears, just as nothing would remove either of them from the other's heart.

Oh the wedding... that was a night to remember. At midnight in the Canterlot Gardens, with Princess Luna herself presiding beneath the silvery rays of her moon, they let the coming of midnight, the true start of a new day, signal the start of their life together. It had been a small affair, just their closest friends as witnesses: Lily, Fluttershy, Twilight Sparkle, Applejack, Rainbow Dash, Pinkie Pie, Rarity, Blues, Redheart, and Shoeshine, with Daisy as Rose's bridesmaid. Blues was going to be Ink Well's best colt, but just a few minutes before the event was set to start a blue box materialized in Ink Well's dressing room, from which came both The Doctor and Ditzy dressed in their very best. Of course, with an entrance like that, The Doctor got the honor, something Blues was more than willing to pass off. Afterward, Pinkie threw the reception, and what a party that was... It was a night he'd never forget, sitting right at the top of a growing list.

Rose heaved again, and the sound tugged at Ink Well's heart. To hear her in such discomfort hurt him, especially after all that she'd done for him just since their marriage. It was planned on very short notice, so as not to become too big a deal, and accidentally fell just a month before the Royal Wedding, that being kept a secret like it was. In the month after his wedding he was truly inspired, finally writing a second novel with the support and affection of his new wife. The book was remarkably successful, giving them a nice couple's income, and that success gave him confidence for a new venture, started off with yet another wedding.

The changeling invasion that took place at the Royal Wedding was perfect material for another musical, one he began work on instantly. He was still working on it, for while the interviews with Princess Cadence, Shining Armor, Princesses Luna and Celestia, and The Elements of Harmony were going well, he was at a slight standstill at the moment. He didn't want to go any further without an account of the other side, but with changelings so hard to come by after their expulsion, well... It was just going to have to wait until either he could get over it or he could find a willing interviewee.

However, the invasion had opened another avenue to him as well. Ink Well wrote an article on it after having experienced it firsthoof which was snatched up by multiple papers and magazines, getting published everywhere. His triumphant return to journalism, while not his passion in writing, felt right, and it had been successful so far. He'd written a number of freelance articles since, with varying success, but it was a nice steady source of money without waiting for the checks from Night's Wrath or either of his books. He'd planned to do some investigating for an article today, just a quick one for a few extra bits to spend on Hearth's Warming presents, but with Rose sick, he couldn't possibly leave her alone.

He continued to rub her back as she spat out the last of her mess, her body finally calming. When she was done, he hugged her close, nuzzling against her as she breathed heavily and put the bucket aside, shaking after the ordeal. “How're you feeling, Rosy? Any better now?”

Rose sniffled loudly through her stuffed nose, giving him a blank look with slightly glazed, bloodshot eyes. “Yeah, I feel great. Hurling when I wake up has been wonderful the past few days, and with the stuffy nose, the sore throat, the fever, the- ahchoo!” She rubbed her nose, which was bright red, then grabbed a tissue from a box beside the bed, blowing into it before continuing to talk. “The sneezing, the nauseousness... I feel amazing.”

Ink Well just looked at her sadly, wishing with all his heart that he could make her better. “I was hoping some of that might have been cured by today, but I guess no such luck... When you get sick, you really get sick.” He kissed her on the cheek, which caused her to smile warmly, bringing a cute joy to the mess that was her sickened self. “Do you need me here to take care of you?”

Rose shook her head, standing up on weakened legs. “No, it's alright. You can go take care of your investigation. I'll be able to hold myself together for the day.” She grabbed the bucket of sick with her teeth, heading to the bathroom, but sneezed halfway there, causing her to wobble a bit and drop the disgusting payload. Ink Well immediately jumped from the bed and caught it, signaling for Rose to lay back down once he was sure the bucket hadn't spilled.

Ink Well walked over to the bathroom, disposing of the mess as he talked. “Are you sure about that? I could put it off. The Weather Factory will open up for tours again right after winter ends.” He walked back to the bed, sitting next to her and surrounding her with his wings. “I don't want to abandon you for some silly story. If you need me here, I won't leave your side.”

“Oh, Inky.” Rose gave him a sultry look, leaning towards him before stopping, opting to tap his nose with her hoof to save him from the taste stuck in her mouth. “It's my own fault, and I can take care of the consequences.” She snuggled against him, enjoying his touch. “I was going to visit Sunshine and see if she could give me anything to help.”

Ink Well looked at her, relief apparent on his face. “Sunshine Redheart? Would you like me to run over to her? I could get you some medicine before heading off.”

Rose shook her head, disentangling herself from Ink Well's wings. “I'm not so sick I'm bed bound. I can take care of myself.” She then sat up, pushing him away gently. “You go on your trip. My plan for today is some warm carrot soup, a good book, and a dog to keep me company.” Ink Well was about to sit back down, but was stopped when Ellipsis jumped on the bed in his place, barking and wagging her tail happily. Rose just smiled, rubbing her on the head. “See! Ellipsis agrees.”

Ink Well just smiled at the two, shaking his head. “Alright, alright, I can tell when I'm beat.” He walked away dejectedly, though his face betrayed his amusement at the situation. When he reached the peg with his hat and bag next to the stairs, he turned back around, looking a little more serious. “But make sure that you don't push yourself, alright? Can't have you staying sick so close to Hearth's Warming Day.”

Rose nodded, holding a hoof to her nose to stop herself from sneezing. “I won't, don't worry.”

Ink Well smiled, slinging his messenger bag over his back and placing his fedora on his head. “Good. I'll be back this afternoon, evening at the latest.” He pulled a lanyard off of the peg as well, placing it around his neck while waving it at Rose. “If there's an emergency, call for me on the psychic and I'll be back as fast as my wings can take me, alright?” Rose just nodded knowingly, trying to send him off before he started worrying again. Ink Well nodded back. “Don't have too much fun without me!”

With that and a wave he set off down the stairs, walking through the distillery and out of the darkened shop. When the sunlight hit his eyes he squinted, a yawn escaping his mouth. It was still far too early to be awake, but it was probably better in the long run anyway. This way he could get to Cloudsdale in time for the early tour, getting him back home much sooner than if he waited. Fighting the urge to walk back inside and curl up next to Rose once more, he flapped his wings stiffly, loosening them up for the flight ahead. Then he leaped into the air, flying with the morning light towards his destination.

---

Ink Well delighted in each flap of his wings as he soared through the Equestrian sky. The wind in his mane, the gentle lift beneath his feathers, the open sky before him and the ground stretching around for miles, it all combined to a feeling he wouldn't give up for anything. Flying was always a good thing, useful for clearing a mind of writer's block or just easing the tensions of a stressful day. The fact that it often was also the fastest way to get anywhere was just an added bonus.

Yet, even the joys of flight were marred as he looked at his floating destination. Cloudsdale was his home city, where he was born and raised, and while there was so much good tied to that mass of cloudy buildings; getting his cutie mark, winning his first award, learning to fly at his father's wings; there was also much sadness. Working for the Equirer, his father's accident, struggling to survive on the bits he could scratch up, the failure of his first book, the fire that engulfed his house and all of his work... it was enough to leave a stain on anypony's memories.

Even so, he still wished he could show Rose around the city. The only regret he held about his love was that she couldn't share in his joy of flight. Sure, sometimes they could convince Twilight or another skilled unicorn to help them with a spell to simulate it temporarily, and on a good day he could pick her up for short glides, but it was inevitable that she'd forever be land locked while he'd eventually itch for the boundless grace of the skies.

Granted, when she fell from that cloud last week he'd nearly had a heart attack. It was purely by luck that they were over the lake when it happened, and even more so that the lake hadn't yet frozen over in the early winter storms. He couldn't bear to think what would happen if she'd been seriously hurt, or worse... No, he wasn't going to think like that. They'd both agreed after that that she'd stick to the grass for a while, after all, he didn't need to lose another pony to gravity...

Now if only he could stop her from being sick. Even with Redheart as a close friend, Rose was against visiting her for medical problems. “Things like doctor's visits cost money,” she'd insisted when she turned up sick after the fall, “and even with the income from your books, we don't have enough for something like that. I'm sure I can suffer a cold for a few days.” He tried to talk her out of it, but it wasn't until last night that she'd relented. But money wasn't the issue, and maybe if he'd just told her that, she wouldn't have suffered like she did...

Ink Well shook his head, looking down at the money green hills rolling beneath him, and frowned. The reason he'd given for this trip was to make a few extra bits for Hearth's Warming, but that wasn't really the whole story. The money he'd make was completely arbitrary, he had more than enough of the stuff at the moment. It's just that Rose didn't yet know, and he wasn't sure how to tell her. He was so used to living hoof to mouth, every single bit of pay going into food or shelter, surviving one cheque at a time. But after his show hit Bridleway, his first book saw a surge in sales that still hadn't let up, and his second one only saw more success. Then, with his new fame, magazines started writing the 'famous' Ink Well asking him to write for them like he used to for the Equirer, and he couldn't just say no, right? A dozen magazines snatching up his articles and paying handsomely, combined with everything else doing so well and, well, he was loaded. Not actually rich or wealthy, but definitely comfortable when it came to the money department.

And all of it was still in his account. He hadn't gotten around to merging it with Rose's yet, so while he was starting to add zeroes onto the money he had stored up, she still thought he was making meager pay. It wasn't a lie he wanted to keep perpetrating but... money changes ponies. From Filthy Rich to Hoity Toity and the rest of the Canterlot Elite he'd met at the last Gala, every last one of them had a dark secret to their money or the power it gave them. Just a little bit of digging had told him that. It didn't matter where you were, money did strange things to your head in large quantities, and he wanted nothing of it; not money, not power, and definitely not the fame he seemed to keep accumulating. He was perfectly happy with his love and his humble life. But ignoring the problem wouldn't make it go away, it was just getting worse, and worse yet, it was tempting him. Occasionally he thought it would be nice to have a few luxuries, but then he figured he'd get a few more, and then some true extravagances, and then they be trying to live in a solid gold house and miss a payment and the whole thing would come crashing down, sending him and his beloved to the poor house.

No, he'd already looked into far too many stories on that subject to become one. It was just three months since he'd returned to journalism, and he'd spent that whole time snooping around dark secrets and uncovering them. The problem was that more than a few of them tied to those rich families of the elite, and that worried him. On the one hoof, the truth needed to be known, and some potentially dangerous dealings had been put to a stop thanks to him. But on the other, not everypony liked having their secrets out, and while none had done more than write angry letters, he couldn't help but feel that he was garnering the attention of too many ponies in power. Ponies in every town with something to hide would often give him dark looks, his reputation preceding him, and the reason was obvious. They didn't like his little hobby, and if he dug in the wrong place, he was sure they'd put an end to it. Quite possibly violently.

This was why he'd already decided that the Weather Factory was going to be his last story for a long while. Even with the charge to investigate these rumors swimming in his blood, the source of which he couldn't quite put his hoof on, he was going to give it up and make sure Rose and he could live peacefully. He'd tell her everything, beg her forgiveness for the secret he'd hidden from her, and maybe, just maybe, be able to put it past them. He even knew the perfect way to do it. Both of them had noticed how the addition of a dog seemed to shrink the apartment, and, since he had the money around anyway, what better present than that townhouse just a couple doors away she'd had her eye on recently? It'd just be them in nice, peaceful Ponyville, finally actually starting the happy, quiet part of their life together.

In all honesty he would have stopped before this story, but it was just too interesting to pass up. Apparently ponies had been disappearing for years now, in small amounts and normally those with few friends or relatives. Foals, mares, colts, the elderly, the sickly, all vanishing without a trace. Supposedly it had been happening for decades, and recently one curious pegasus reported seeing them taken into the Weather Factory, though the word of one conspiracy nut wasn't really enough to go on. Of course, the fact that, after contacting one magazine, The Inquisitor, with her findings, she disappeared under equally suspicious circumstances, combined with the large, impenetrable buildings left closed off to the public and the enigma the whole place held, well, it just screamed of foul play. And Ink Well wanted to get to the bottom of it.

Ink Well was pushed out of his thoughts by an errant gust of wind, forcing him to fix his flight path. The edge of the city was still far away, but already he could see the storm clouds and rainbow falls that surrounded the factory, and he steeled his gaze on them. Whatever was going on in there, be it just rumors or something actually sinister, he would bring it into the light. And no matter what the story was, this was it. He'd retire from his journalistic career, short lived as it was, and return to the hooves of his love.

Plan set in his mind, he put extra effort into his flight, eager to bring it all to a close.

---

Outside the foreboding walls of the Weather Factory stood a grey pegasus, her brown uniform, comprised of a messenger bag, a cap, and a button up shirt, rumpled with worry. This worry matched the look she gave the walls as her bright yellow eyes ran from them down to the package before her, crossing slightly as her confusion distracted her from holding them straight. She ran a hoof nervously through the part of her blonde mane that stuck from beneath her cap, then pouted, letting her eyes roam up the solid wall once more. Defeat in her voice, she spoke to nopony but herself. “Mr. Crate's gonna fire me for sure...”

That morning, as she rushed in five minutes late to Crafty Crate's Shipping Co. as she usually did, she was greeted at the door by Mr. Crafty Crate himself, a very stern look on the pony's features. “Five minutes late again, Derpy, that's the fourth time this week.”

Ditzy Doo looked to the ground, avoiding the grim look in his eyes. “I know sir, I'm sorry. I just can't seem to get here without-”

Mr. Crate stuck out a hoof, cutting her off mid sentence. “I don't wanna hear it Derpy. We got another complaint this morning. Three misdelivered packages in Manehattan, all of them from your mail bag. Care to explain?”

Ditzy shook her head, lifting her eyes just enough to see the other occupants of the room. Everypony in the office was watching her, not a one with a look other than 'glad that's not me' on their face. A couple even almost seemed glad to see her getting chewed out. She didn't know why, she'd always tried to be nothing but kind and friendly towards them, but they never seemed to appreciate it. She sank a little closer to the floor. “I must have just mixed up a few of the addresses, some of those numbers look really similar and-”

Mr. Crate cut her off again, sighing heavily and turning away. “Derpy, we haven't gone one week since you got here without something going wrong. Any other pony would be out of here in a heartbeat, but since you're a... special case, I'm gonna give you one more shot.” He held out a small plain parcel, showing it clearly to her before putting it in her bag. “This is going to the Weather Factory, top priority. If you don't deliver this perfectly, don't bother coming back. It's that simple, got it?” Ditzy held her gaze to the floor, nodding solemnly. “Good. Don't mess this up.” With that she'd flown out of the room, tears in her eyes and not a single pony trying to comfort her.

She'd flown as fast as she could to the factory, running in to reception and offering them the package. Without even looking at her the pegasus at the desk told her to go to the delivery dock out back, sending her on her way, which would have been fine, except Ditzy couldn't find the delivery dock. She circled the whole factory twice without luck before coming back in, meeting with the receptionist once more. The second time was even less cordial than the first.

“What, didn't you hear me? We don't accept deliveries here. Go to the delivery dock.”

Ditzy shied away from the desk, ears flat against her head. “I would, except that I can't find it. If you could just point me in the direction of-”

The receptionist snorted at her statement. “What are you, blind? It's right behind this building.” It was then that the receptionist noticed Ditzy's eyes, her expression getting even meaner. “Oh, great, they sent the delivery pony who can't even rub two brain cells together. Look, I'm not gonna foalsit you. If you can't find it, just run back to your little office and send somepony who can.” Dejected, Ditzy had left the room after that, beginning another futile search that brought her to the blank factory wall.

Those words had stung, but weren't unheard of by any stretch of the imagination. Everywhere she went ponies commented on her eyes, taking her friendly attitude and helpful ways as her being 'special' or just plain stupid, and those thoughts were only confirmed when she bumped into things, flew at odd angles, or dropped things with her clumsy hooves. In the past year and a half she'd heard countless ponies calling her Derpy, a name she'd once thought was a term of endearment, with venom and almost hatred in the word, and it was starting to get to her. She'd also gone through countless jobs, unable to keep them as, one way or another, she bungled something up. “Derpy, you're fired!” was becoming much too common a phrase for her to hear.

Ditzy looked at the giant cloud wall, feeling it a perfect metaphor for her life. Everything had been going fine, and then, suddenly, this wall blocked off her memory for two solid years, turning the whole time into a fuzz of vague feelings and nightmares. Then it stopped, the fog lifting and sharply as it came, and it was just her and Dinky, all alone in the world. From that moment on she'd worked hard to keep herself and her daughter fed, housed, and happy, sacrificing all of her time and, after one fateful run as a test subject in the Canterlot Academy of Magic and Science, her eyesight and balance to keep them safe.

She loved Dinky more than anything, and would do anything for her precious little Muffin. With what money she had after the botched test, Ditzy moved out to Ponyville with one of her friends, Golden Harvest, in the hope that they could work together to get ahead and Dinky could live a happier life away from the city. Looking back, maybe that wasn't the very best choice, but it had been working fine until about a year ago, when Ditzy was fired from the weather team for an errant lightning storm, which accidentally had damaged town hall. She wasn't sure where she'd gone wrong, but she knew they were right and left with dignity.

After that she'd gone just about everywhere for new work, doing everything from construction and maintenance to beauty parlor jobs, and all of it had just gone horribly wrong. Six months ago it got so bad that she'd even had to look out of town, and that was where Mr. Crate's had come in. Cloudsdale was the closest place to Ponyville she could get hired, and while it meant moving and leaving Dinky in Golden's care, she at least took comfort in the fact that she could visit her Muffin every time she made a delivery to Ponyville.

And so she went to work, sending half of her earnings to Golden, but something she hadn't foreseen happened: Mr. Crate wouldn't send her to Ponyville. He had a good reason for it after she dropped all of those things on that pony, but it still was a major problem in Ditzy's book. Combined with the fact that she'd been forced to fix mistakes on every day she'd had off, it was going on a full four months since she'd last seen her little Muffin! Golden made sure to write and keep Ditzy up to date on the latest news, explaining everything to Dinky and keeping her happy and safe, but that wasn't the point. Ditzy missed her daughter, pure and simple, and while she tried to send everything she could and make it seem like she was there, it just wasn't the same, and that tore at her heart.

And now she was going to lose the job, having wasted those past four months just to be unable to even bring back a decent amount of money, and she'd have to move even further away or poor little Dinky would starve, and then she'd never see her, and-

Ditzy shook that thought from her head, her face setting in determination. “No! Golden would never let that happen. And you are not losing this job!” She jumped up from the cloud, gliding into flight and circling the Weather Factory once again. Dinky was counting on her, and if she couldn't be there for her, the least she could do was do this right! If it took her all day, she would deliver this package, and that was final!

---

Ink Well landed at the visitor's entrance to the Weather Factory at mid morning, noting the well decorated landing area and the friendly sign before the door. 'Welcome to the Weather Factory, Creating Equestria's Weather since 1672.' Beneath it hung a much newer sign, its electronic display stating 'The next tour starts in: 10:00 minutes.' The cozy, sunbathed, fluffy front of the visitor center seemed completely contrary to the rest of the factory, which was constructed with stark, imposing, lifeless walls that swirled with storm clouds and lightning. It was like an idyllic park nestled in the shadow of a madpony's castle. An apt description, if the rumors circulating the place were true.

Smirking with anticipation, Ink Well took in a deep breath, ready to confront whatever waited for him within. However, before he could take a single step, he was cut off by a grey pegasus in a brown uniform, who landed sharply in front of him. Slightly offended by her rude entrance, he tapped the mare on the shoulder. “Excuse me, could you be more careful on your next landing? You could've hurt somepony.”

The mare in question turned towards him, words forming on the tip of her tongue as she looked at him with crossed, determined eyes. However any anger or rudeness her face held vanished the moment she laid eyes on him. “Ink Well! I'm so sorry! Please don't be mad, I didn't mean anything by it, I promise.”

Ink Well let his own anger drop, replacing it with a smile when he saw who it was. “Ditzy! Fancy meeting you here. Don't worry about it, no harm done.” He could see the relief wash through her, though it quickly turned back into determination as she faced the building once more. Curious, he asked her about it. “Is something the matter? You seem a bit worked up.”

Ditzy looked back at him, focus dropping once again. “Huh? Oh, it's nothing.” She turned back to the door, putting her game face back on. “I've just got a package to deliver.”

Ink Well tilted his head at the response, deciding to see what she meant rather than ask her. He followed her as she stomped her way through the open front doors and up to the receptionist. She drew herself up tall, pulling everything she had into one motion as she reached out and gently tapped the bell on the front desk. It's ding caught the ear of the mare sitting just behind it, her nose pressed in a magazine. “The tour starts in ten minutes, just get in that line over there,” said the receptionist in a bored monotone, waving her hoof at a small group of ponies on the other side of the room. Ditzy ignored the hoof, clearing her throat in an attempt to actually get the receptionist's attention. When finally the red maned mare looked up from her magazine, she just sighed loudly. “Great, we've got bright eyes in here again, what do you want?”

At those words all of the power and poise Ditzy had mustered evaporated, causing her eyes to shoot to the ground and her height to fall by a few inches. “I was still having trouble finding the delivery dock, and I was wondering if you could maybe-”

The receptionist stood, bearing down at Ditzy over the desk. “I told you I'm not gonna foalsit, and I ain't getting paid to do some nitwit's job for her. Come in here one more time asking for the delivery dock and I'm going to call for security, got that?” She waited for the slight nod that came from Ditzy, then smirked, returning to her magazine. “Good. Now get out.”

Ditzy slowly walked away from the counter, head held low and tail dragging on the ground, only to be stopped at the door by a friendly hoof. “Ditzy, what are you doing? Why are you letting her treat you like that?”

Ditzy just sighed, looking up into the friendly, angry eyes of Ink Well. “Oh, I'm used to it...” She then smiled, perking up a little. “It's not her job to do it. I can just look around again. I've got all day. I'm sure I'll find it.”

Ink Well shook his head, still furious at what he just saw transpire. “That's not the point, Ditzy, there's no reason for her to be that mean to you! How could they let somepony like her be in charge of pony relations? You need to stand up to her!”

Ditzy shook her head, looking at the receptionist with a scowl. “There's no use. She'll just call security, and it's her word against mine. She'll win in the end. They always do.”

Ink Well's blood boiled at the thought, but she was right. In something like this, the employee was definitely where security would side, and the only way to launch a complaint was through the problem itself. No, that would never do. He then looked across the room, watching the dozen pegasi of the tour group getting ready, donning lab coats and hard hats. As he watched them, he remembered his own reason for being there, and realized he was running out of time. He wanted to help her, but he needed to be on that tour if he wanted access anywhere deeper. That's when the idea struck him, a smirk spreading across his face. “Well, if she's not going to help you, then we'll go straight to the top.”

Ditzy tilted her head, looking back at him and eloquently stating, “Huh?”

Ink Well threw a hoof around her shoulder, pointing her towards the group. “Well, that tour goes into the factory, meaning we'll be in close contact with a lot of the workers. If you come with me on it, we can maybe find somepony to give that package to, and then problem solved, and you even get a free tour out of it! What's there to lose?”

Ditzy didn't seem fully sold on the idea, eying the group in the lab coats suspiciously. “I don't know, I'm not supposed to goof off on the job. Mr. Crate will be very angry if he catches me.”

Ink Well waved the thought away. “He's not gonna catch you. And it's not goofing off if you get the job done at the same time. Plus, whoever we give that package to is probably higher up the chain of command than the receptionist, meaning we can lodge a complaint at the same time, and then she'll be the one in trouble.” Ditzy seemed to consider it for a moment, holding silent, but still not moving towards the group, who were rapidly preparing to leave. At this, Ink Well gave one final nudge. “Hey, if that doesn't work, I'll help you look for it afterward. Deal?”

Ditzy looked at Ink Well's smiling face and nodded, smiling herself. “Deal.”

“Great! I knew you'd see it my way.” The two ran over to the group, putting on the helmet and white coat of the tour and falling into line just as the guide opened the doors to the facility.