//------------------------------// // Ghosties Need Cider Too! // Story: The Crossroads // by Ex-Nihilos //------------------------------// Chapter 11: Ghosties Need Cider Too! Abigail watched Raeg’s group head off to have fun in town, sad for having to babysit the starstruck Haku.  She quickly decided to take control of the conversation and avoid any awkward moments wherein Haku would know way too much about Twilight Sparkle’s life for it to be anything less than creepy and stalkerish. “So,” said Abigail, “I was thinking of taking a name that wouldn’t stand out so much if I am to live here for a while.  How do naming conventions work in Equestria?” Twilight responded, “Well, parents just pick a name they like and go with it, usually.  Sometimes families will keep a part of their name constant to show the relationship, like with the Apple family or the Cakes.  Other times there will be a general theme, like myself and my brother, Shining Armor, having light-themed names.” “Haku has noticed that names will reflect a pony’s special talent,” interjected the brown unicorn.  “This is why Haku will not change Haku’s name, for Haku’s special talent is being Haku.  Therefore, Haku’s name is the perfect name, for what in life is better than Haku?” “Haku is right, even if he could use a few more pronouns,”  Haku emitted a small squee as Twilight praised his statement’s correctness. “But, wouldn't that mean that a parent essentially chooses their child’s path in life before they are born?” asked Abigail. “There is some debate on that point.  Many parents will try and be vague with their names, but there are cases of names having almost nothing to do with one’s talent.  Fluttershy, for instance.  Her name says more about her personality than her talent and only sort of sounds like butterfly, the image in her cutie mark.” “Yes, if her name reflected her talent, she’d be Critter Care,” said Haku. Twilight looked at him quizzically, “how do you kn--” “So,” Abigail hastily cut into Twilight’s train of thought, “something sort of vaguely related to myself, my talent, or my cutie mark,” the word still felt awkward and not quite right in Abigail’s mouth.  Perhaps she’d get over it soon, or never. “What?  Oh, yes.  That seems to be a good way to find a more conventional name.  Though I would like to know more about the naming system where you come from.  And about your world in general.” Twilight said with some excitement. “Hmm...” Abigail pondered for a moment, and inspected the image on her flank.  “How about Diamond Ring?  It’s the name of the effect which appears at the beginning and end of an eclipse, and my cutie mark.”  The word was already getting easier, though Abigail still felt like a five-year-old whenever she said it.  “And it sort of works with my talent, which I think is electrical engineering, or space travel.  Or dying in space, but I like to think that that’s not it.” “That sounds great!  Wait.  Electrical whatnow?  Like, you control lightning?  And space travel?  How does one pony even have enough magic to do that without being an alicorn?  I have to know!” Abigail, or rather, Diamond Ring, gently removed Twilight’s hooves from her shoulders, stopping the purple mare’s attempts to shake Abigail’s head off her shoulders.  “Relax, hey, if you can get me a job, or if you just want to treat me to lunch, or any sort of help like that, I’ll tell you as much as I can.”  It was about now that Abigail realized Haku was no longer in the conversation.  While she did not mind his absence, it was still disconcerting, in much the same way one would be perfectly happy that a vicious dog was gone, but still be unwilling to leave their safe haven of a tree because they didn’t see where the dog went off to. The blue mare looked around for the brony pony, spotting him talking to a sort of vague grey colored blob next to the poplar tree.  “Oh, Twilight,” said Abigail, “it seems Chubs has returned to us while we were talking.  Should we go get him and then head to the bar?”  Abigail’s voice held a combination of annoyance at needing to get Chubs and a desperation for alcohol which Twilight thought best to appease. Even a spirit can be plagued by vertigo, strangely enough that feeling of motion sickness transfers over even in death. For the hefty grey stallion, the feeling was a very unwelcome reminded that it wasn’t fun to be suddenly pulled from one place back to another. Chubs had only blinked, one moment he was in the Carousel Boutique, and the next he was standing in the middle of a familiar dirt road under the shade of a known tree. From that initial blink of transference Chubs was forced to blink a second time just be sure he wasn’t seeing things. He frowned when he opened them again to find the same dirt road staring back at him. The fact that the Crossroads was strangely lacking in some key and colorful residents had not registered with him yet. He could only sigh sadly, but not for himself. Sweetie Belle’s sadness was part of the source that his own melancholy mood stemmed from, that and marshmallows. Much to his disappointment earlier, Chubs found he could stomach no food the market had. Literally. Every piece of food he ate simply vanished from his gullet and tasted blander than any food should ever be. From the orange mare’s apple stand he moved on to a Churro stand and an ice cream vendor before finally giving up the cause. Saddened and unsatisfied he wandered away from the market in a ghostly gait, he didn’t even care that as he walked farther from the markets his grey coat became duller and his new legs quickly became transparent, fading with each step. When he found himself in front of the famed Carousel Boutique he ventured in without much of a second thought. Opening the door, the bell chimed, and the shop’s fashionista owner began her greetings, but stopped when she saw nopony had actually entered the store. Shrugging it off to the wind she returned to work, paying no heed to the nearly invisible grey colt that gazed about the boutique with curious eyes. Chubs wasn’t what anyone would ever call a fashion enthusiast, his only true passion has always been in food, but even he had to admit that this place was impressive. It reminded him of some of the customers he’d cooked for during his time still under culinary apprenticeship, the rich and pompous who ordered the most expensive dishes off the menu. They treated restaurant outings as chances to flaunt their riches and always they wore the most extravagant of attires, the type that Chubs could never afford. Yet here, Rarity’s boutique was filled with those quality clothes, though now in pony form. His interest though inevitably faded and drifted back to finding food as he found his way upstairs to Rarity’s workshop. Up there he did find snacks, but he also found a very bored and lonely white unicorn foal absently coloring a childish picture. Chubs’ first thought was for the food, shuffling over he bent over to try a bite out of the assortment of marshmallows, crackers, and vegetables, but a sigh from the unicorn stopped him. Chubs recognized her vaguely, she didn’t have a toy but knew from looking up the show once that this was Sweetie Belle, Rarity’s little sister. Glancing up from the food he could see how sad and lonely she was, cooped up the boutique with her sister too busy to play. Chubs closed his open mouth, missing the food by a phantom’s breath away. Trotting over he sat down on his haunches next to her, being much taller than the filly he could easily see what she was drawing. It looked like a giant pink cake with white frosting underneath a sun with squiggly lines to fill up the blank white spots on the paper. It wasn’t too entertaining for Sweetie Belle. She moved on from coloring the paper anymore and was trying instead to use her magic to lift a crayon set on top of the drawing, the crayon barely budged. Chubs reached up to tap his chin with his nearly invisible hoof but stopped when he noticed how vague his body had become. He smiled as an idea came to him. Waiting for Sweetie Belle to try her magic again the ghostly Chubs picked up a pair of crayons, and pretending to make them hover, waved them in front of the young foal’s eyes. The sudden change in Sweetie Belle’s features from hopelessly bored sadness to overjoy was enough to ache the heart even the coldest human being. From there the little foal tried her magic with new zeal, and with a little assistance from the ghostly colt, had a delighting amount of success. Running around the room Chubs followed her around, waving around crayons, spools of cloth, and ribbons. When the unicorn tried to use the magic on herself the stallion took it upon himself to see that she succeeded. Plucking her up onto his transparent back he bounced around the room, the two of them laughing from the fun. It sadly ended when Sweetie Belle decided to go and show Rarity her newfound magical abilities. Chubs had followed her downstairs, diligently awaiting her next chance at magic, but both stopped when they saw Rarity was busy with a customer. Chubs recognized Lucky Money and was curious to see what he was here for. Sweetie Belle went back upstairs to wait until Rarity was done but Chubs remained. Rarity had taken something from Lucky and the big stallion moved behind her to see what it was. His mouth was agape when he saw the magnified diamonds that encircled the monocle that lucky always wore. From behind him he could hear Lucky Money shout something. He blinked, and now he was back at the crossroads, and he recalled he didn’t even get to the marshmallows Sweetie Belle had. He only momentarily glanced up as that brown unicorn from before approached him. “So, Chubs... how was your day?” Haku asked the grey colt. It seemed that something had actually managed to get under the grey blob’s skin, but what? ‘Haku must find out,’ Brain said. ‘Haku agrees. Haku rather dislikes being in the not-knowing-of-the-stuff.’ “Could’ve gone better,” Chubs muttered. Haha, Haku had succeeded in his mission to make the Chubs speak. “I couldn’t eat anything for some reason. Whenever I tried to, the food just... disappeared from my stomach,” the hefty chef said in his slow and lethargic way of speaking. Haku nodded. “Yes, that would get a bit depressing. But enough of your worries, Haku must tell you about Haku’s day now,” Haku stated. Chubs only muttered something about ‘being so close to marshmallow-y goodness.’ Haku simply did what came natural and ignored his... acquaintance, maybe? “Yes, anyways, so everyone left for a bar shortly after you left us. Not sure why, though. But then Haku thought, ‘hey, you could stay behind with Twilight!’ and I was all ‘good idea brain!’” ‘Haku, I said to not speak of me. If someone knew of my existence, then they would take me away from you! And I rather enjoy the large amount of space in here.’ “Haku would not like that...” Haku said aloud, getting a confused blink from Chubs, who merely brushed it off after a moment's thought. “So continuing on, Haku didn't even get a chance to speak to Best Pony! That She-Beast Abigail took her all for her own! Oh, but Haku will get his chance,” Haku muttered that last part low enough for only Chubs to hear, who only nodded his head. “Uh-huh,” Chubs answered in the typical fashion most men use when they aren’t actually listening, “hey, you have any food on you?” Haku shook his head. “Does it look like Haku has pockets? Anyways, right when Haku was about enact his plan to shoo away Abigail, you appear!” Haku threw his arms, er... hooves in the air dramatically. “And now we’re on our way to meet up with the other zombie ponies. At the bar. The one Haku does not wish to go to.” The pair went quiet when the mares walked over. A quick invitation from Twilight and Chubs was free of the Crossroads with the same conditions as she placed on the others and waved them on.  “Come on Diamond Ring, let’s get you and your friends to the bar.  I’m beginning to think that, today at least, I have no problem downing a few mugs this early.” It took a moment for Abigail to remember that Diamond Ring was her.  She also didn’t feel like arguing the point about being friends with these two schlemiels, so she just followed along thankfully. “Alright, this won’t take too long,” Rainbow Dash said, reaching for the door of the candy shop. “I’m just gonna go in and-” Rainbow was interrupted mid sentence by a pair of hooves flying through the open door and hitting her square in the face, throwing her back through the air to, once again, bounce harmlessly off of Raeg’s chest plate. “Take that, ghosties!” a voice yelled through the door. Raeg looked down at the stunned pegasus at his feet. “You know, in Canterlot we just say hello when somepony comes to visit.” Rainbow got shakily to her hooves and cast a glare at the offending pink pony. “What the hay, Pinkie!” she yelled. “Ohmygosh!” Pinkie yelled, realizing that she had not in fact bucked a ghost, but rather her friend. “I’m so sorry Dashie! My Pinkie Sense told me that the mean old ghosties were coming and I thought you were them!” “Ghosts? What’re you talking about, Pinkie? There’s no such thing as ghosts.” Rainbow said, rubbing her head. “Ya-huh there are!” Pinkie retorted. “The ones down by the carriage crossing! My Pinkie Sense said so and it never lies!” “Those guys aren’t ghosts!” Rainbow said. “I was just talking to those guys, I’ve even got two of ‘em here with me! Just see for yourself.” Pinkie visibly paled when Rainbow said that, but looking around, she didn’t see any of the ghosts from earlier, just a grumpy looking pegasus and a- “Oh hey, you’re the Hippogriff from earlier!” Pinkie said, recognizing Loro. “I’m so happy none of those mean old ghosties hurt you!” Loro just gave her a look and said something nopony present could understand. “You’re welcome!” Pinkie chirped, earning a forwn from the parrot-pony. “But I don’t understand, my right back leg twitched, I got all sad, then my mane got all poofy, or more poofy than usual anyways, and that always means ghosts!” “I can’t even begin to tell you how stupid your reasoning sounds, but you’re pretty much dead on.” Raeg said. “But I didn’t see you there!” Pinkie said. “I was at Twilight’s library while she violated Memphis in every way she could imagine.” he explained. “So there’s even more of you?” Pinkie asked, horrified. “Only about seven in total.” he said. “But that’s still far too many idiots to be trapped here with.” Rainbow Dash sighed in exasperation. “He’s not a ghost, Pinkie! There’s no such thing as ghosts!” “But-” “No! No. Such. Thing!” “But my Pinkie Sense!” Rainbow Dash groaned and face-hoofed. “Look, we’re going to the Cider House, if I buy you a drink will you just leave it alone?” Pinkie seemed to forget all about the ghosts at the mention of cider. “Sounds good to me!” she chirped. “Ugh.” Rainbow groaned. “There goes this week’s paycheck up in cider. Let’s just get going.” “Finally,” Raeg grumbled. Loro, for his part, just grinned at the mention of cider and followed them the three, lagging behind to take in the sights of his new surroundings. Despite Lewdy’s offerings to continue to drag Lucky Money across town the businesspony decided it was best to walk on his own rather than deal with the uncouthness of the act, as well as the unforgiving gravel ground. After a few tries and some help from Memphis the three were able to get moving again where they encountered a very prominent flaw in their plan. The three had no idea where the bar was in Ponyville. Rainbow Dash had mentioned the Cider House but didn’t exactly take the time to point out exactly where it was in town and though Lewdy’s claims of being a bloodhound when it came to alcohol were entertaining it didn’t help. The thought of asking for directions crossed their minds but the idea was quickly whisked away with the drawls of laughter they gave. Men don’t ask for directions! The thought was absurd to do so, what self respecting man, or in this case stallion, would stoop so low as to ask for which way to go? So they wandered around in hopes of spotting any sign of what could be taken as a bar, stumbling into restaurants of all kinds before finally deciding it probably wasn’t best to duck into every door that wasn’t a residence. Their salvation finally came in the form of a swinging sign in the shape of a tankard with a healthy eruption of foam spilling up from its brim. Below the picture of the tankard were the golden letters that spelled out The Cider House. Apparently it was just a street over from Rarity’s Boutique, information that would have been very helpful before they’d started going in the wrong direction. The Cider House itself wasn’t as flamboyant compared to the many other buildings of Ponyville, if anything it looked more down to earth and to Memphis’ delight it was reminiscent to an Appleoosan design, albeit a lot less dusty, and hopefully it wasn’t just salt they sold. “So how many bits we got before we have to pawn off Lucky’s monocle for more booze?” Lewdy asked as he gestured to the fanciful thing that was back on Lucky’s eye. Checking the bag Memphis silently counted, and prayed for Twilight’s forgiveness, the gold tinted bits inside. “We’ve got fifteen bits worth o’ drinks in ‘ere. Countin’ the ten I spent before that means Ah’m already in debt to Twilight by twenty-five bits.” Lewdy gave a ragged sigh, mocking exasperation, “Oh please, it’s for booze for fook’s sake, what better reason is there to spend other people’s ‘ard earned money on? Besides, ‘ow else are we gonna dull the pain of poor Lucky’s rejection!” At this the Irish pony bristled, “I said ya basterd that, that be a misunderstandin’ and nothin’ more! And don’t go sayin’ poor be me neither!” “Alright, alright! Geez, bite a guy’s head off why don’t ya? I mean really, so soon after trying to get a bite out Rarity? Such a hound dog, I swear.” Lewdy snickered as he opened the door to the bar and entered, not even bothering to keep it open for the other two. Lucky gave a disapproving glare at the closed door where the blue maned colt once stood, turning to the stoic Memphis he asked, “And ya ‘ad to deal wit’ this bloke for three years prior, lad?” Memphis shrugged in response, “You tune ‘im out after awhile, when I got the guitar that definitely ‘elped things along.” Trotting up to the door the pony swung it open and entered the threshold though stopped to jam the door open with his back leg to let Lucky pass by. Nodding a quick thanks to the tan pony Lucky trotted into the bar. Both were lightly surprised at the comfortable atmosphere of the place. Warm yellow lanterns on chandeliers up above lit the place with the help of a stone fireplace near the back where a roaring fire warmed some seated ponies. All around them groups of ponies were talking amongst themselves, adding to the general clamor and warmhearted air of the Cider House. At the bar a familiar plum colored pony with a cutie mark of grapes and a strawberry was slumped over the bar while a grey stallion with an impressive black moustache attended to the bar while cleaning a shot glass. Memphis could practically see the drunken bubbles appear over Berry Punch’s head at this point. A sharp whistle from one of the booths opposite to the bar got the two ponies attention. Standing on one of the seats was an impatient Lewdy gesturing for them while shouting something that was dimly translated as ‘get booze’, or close enough that could be heard over the crowd. Rolling his eyes Memphis grumbled to himself before leaning towards Lucky, “You go on ahead, Ah’ll get the cider.” Without any more hesitation the musician made his way to the bar. Really, it was exciting to think they’d finally get the chance to taste the famous Apple family Apple Cider that the town clamored for every cider season. He doubted it was that potent a drink but the taste alone would get the southern pony’s attention. Gaining the bartender’s eye Memphis was quick to order three cider tankards, three bits apiece. Memphis quietly was relieved of the price, he’d been afraid it would be higher than what he had and from past experiences it was never a good idea to open a tab at a bar. The bartender was quick with his hooves and had three foaming tankards of Sweet Apple Acres apple cider sitting on the bar within seconds of its ordering. Depositing the three cups onto his back with long practiced ease he trotted over to the booth and slid the two other tankards to the two waiting drinkers. Taking a seat in the booth, Memphis stuck his hoof into the oversized handle of the tankard. Casting a glance to the pair next to him to see if they were ready he grinned. “Well, bottoms up.” At the same time the three drank deeply from the tankard. For Memphis, after three years of nothing to drink or eat, it was as close to heaven as he ever thought he’d get to. The tart cider was an explosion of flavor that quenched a dying thirst Memphis wasn’t even aware that he had. To put it in his own blunt words: the apple cider was amazing. Lucky Money had a less ecstatic reaction, there was no doubt the cider was good but it definitely didn’t live up to the Irish spirits that were able to knock a weaker man out within three drinks. Putting the tankard down the Irish pony shrugged, “Eh, it’s good, but it don’t compare to ole Irish whiskey like back ‘ome.” For Lewdy the experience was lackluster and for the same reason as Lucky. Putting the tankard down the green pony glared down upon the cup. With all the spite he could muster he said, “This is Apple Juice.” Jutting a hoof to a still drinking Memphis, Lewdy threw accusations at him, “Whaddya tryin’ to do? You got the hard cider right? ‘Cause this is about as lightweight as watered down Pabst Blue Ribbon piss.” Putting the tankard down with half of the cider already gone Memphis squinted his eyes at the other two colts, “Ah ain’t gettin’ you two anything else so shut up and drink. Bartender said this is the ‘ard cider so I’ll take ‘is word for it. T’ain’t no liquor like we’re from but I’ll take what Ah can git.” “Hey, we came here for a single reason! To get sloshed to the point of no return and to forget about our woes. That’s not about to happen from some apple juice in a sippy cup.... maybe they got rum? What kind of people wouldn’t have rum, so where’s the rum!?” Lewdy said. “And Ah said Ah ain’t gettin’ you nothin’ else, so sit yer sorry ass down and drink.” Memphis snapped back. Sitting back down Lewdy muttered a series of curses, “We’re gonna need a lot more cider at this rate.”