//------------------------------//
// Ch.2 High Maintenance Cost 
// Story: Friendship: the Gathering 
// by Arcanum -Phantasy 
//------------------------------//

Rarity frowned as she made her way through town, staring down at a sheet of paper in her hand. This particular part of Ponyville was one she had rarely explored, most of the homes holding a more rustic flare to them then she was used to. She grimaced as she passed an especially old house, its chipping paint hurting her eyes on a personal level. The ivory Unicorn mare wore a finely crafted sky blue blouse and gray slacks, both articles perfectly framing her lithe and elegant figure. Her violet mane and tail were each styled into single matching curls that bounced softly with each gray high-heeled step she took. Soft blue rouge added to the already stunning shade of sapphire of her eyes, said orbs narrowed in frustration as she stared down at the paper in her hands.	
Why would he choose to live out here? she mused, stepping disdainfully around the remains of an ancient outhouse. It is all so... icky out here!
On top of that, the lack of civilization this far out put a chill down her spine. She wracked her brain to think of a reason one would choose to live someplace so eerily calm. She mentally kicked herself when one particular friend of hers came to mind.
Pinkie did say that he hates crowds. Maybe Anon is like Fluttershy, she thought moving around a vine-choked statue of some sort. Perhaps he prefers a more, shall we say, organic lifestyle.
She cringed at that, hating the idea of being surrounded by all of that dirt any longer than was strictly needed. Even now, she knew that it was going to take time to clean the stains out of her silver heels. That earned an irritated snort out of her, mainly when said heel got caught in an old gofer hole. 
"For Celestia's sake," she muttered, letting out a very unlady-like huff as she freed her shoe. 
"Keep it together Rarity," she frowned, wiping away the dirt coating her heel with some of her magic. "A little dirt never stopped a lady from shining."
While she walked, she tried to let the early morning rays improve her dim mood. At the same time, she distracted herself by alternating between following Pinkie's directions and thinking about what the mare in question told her. Admittedly, she had her doubts about her friend's claims that a strange creature was living on the older outskirts of town. Not helping had been the description she gave about the creature in question, it greatly resembling the humans from myth and ancient folklore she had read about in passing. 
A week ago, she would've ignored such a story as nothing more than a tall tale, whipped up to get a rise out of her from one of her friends. Then Nightmare Moon happened, and such things started to hold a bit more weight to her. Even if this was just some prank, it would've been better to look a fool for being gullible than running from a creature's fangs. Also, now that her curiosity had been piqued it was unlikely that she would've been able to focus on her work until it was satisfied.
"If this was all for nothing, I am going to have a quite a lot of words for that mare," she grumbled, aiming a pointed glare at the paper in her hand.
A second after she said that, she took a step forward, slipped on a particularly wet patch of grass, and rolled down a hill into a mud puddle. Slowly, Rarity sat up, wiped the mud out of her eyes, then let out a frustrated scream into the heavens. Vitriol rolled off of her tongue that was so foul, it would've made the most toxic viper want to wash her mouth out as she staggered to her feet.	That was followed by a yelp as she slipped on something in the puddle and fell back into the mud. Any screaming that would've come next was replaced by hacking coughs as she tried to spit out a mouthful of mud.
I.... am... going.... to throttle that mare! she thought, spitting curses and wet earth as she crawled onto more solid ground.


***


Anon took a deep breath, reveling in the fresh early morning air as he explored his new surroundings. After he managed to shake off his hangover, he decided to start taking whatever steps he needed to make peace with his current situation. The first, he figured, was to get a look at his new surroundings and to take it from there. Risking a few looks out his windows, he was relieved to see that Pinkie had been technically wrong about where his house had ended  up. 
When he found the nerve to step out the front door, he found that his home was set in a forest clearing on top of a tall hill. From it, he could see the near invisible skeletons of countless old homes, vines and trees dominating the space like graveyard mementos. An old trail winded down the hill like an aged camping trail, starting from his doorstep and moving further into the woods. Dirt and dried leaves crunched under his boots as he casually made his way down the trail, the chirping of birds and chittering of squirrels brining a small smile to his lips. His smile turned into a chuckle when he looked back at his home. 
While the building hadn't changed when whatever force brought it here did its thing, it almost felt that the powers that be picked this location because of it. Much like the inside, the outside of his home was painted in a way that reflected his love for nature. Green, brown, and gray decorated his home, almost blending in to the scene like a form of unintentional camouflage. It almost looked as if the house had always been there, a fact that added a hint of eeriness to the comforting sight.
Shaking it off, shifted his attention back to the trail as he continued down the path. Aside from the small actions of the animals that called it home, the forest trail was completely silent in a way foreign to anyone that spent most of their time living in a city. He chuckled, loving the seclusion his new home gave him compared to the noise of his old world.
Basking in the shadows of the trees and the smells of damp earth, he was startled when the shade suddenly vanished. Cursing under his breath, he blinked the dots out of his eyes as his advance was cut short. When his eyes had finally adjusted, he looked out into a vast open field. The grass was an explosively vibrant emerald he didn't know was possible, a few young trees growing from the middle of the faintest skeletons of homes dotted across the scene. In the far distance, several tall mountains reached for the sky like great earthen fangs, one of them seeming to have a giant ivory castle built into its side. Closer, but still a good distance away was a large village, the hamlet looking like a small model from the distance. 
He pulled out his phone and activated its camera function, briefly lamenting the lack of signal before he put the town into its line of sight. Zooming in, he watched hundreds of colorful dots move through the streets like ants in an ant farm. The buildings were shockingly similar to the ones from his home world, the more official ones holding designs that fit while the homes all seemed to have thatched roofs reminiscent of old fantasy movies. There were other buildings that didn't fit either design, one resembling a merry-go-round and another looking like a towering ice cream sunday catching his attention the most. There also appeared to be a large tree standing near the middle of the town, but all of the blurry things his camera caught in its branches made him wonder if it served a purpose beyond giving others shade.
His observations were interrupted by a very loud and very angry feminine scream that filled the air a fair distance away.
"The fuck was that?" he wondered, looking down the trail into another forest.
As if on cue, he saw some movement from within the distant tree-line. Putting his phone away, he stepped back into the shadows, getting behind a tree to hide further from the unknown presence. Hoping to avoid a repeat of yesterday, he let his hand wander to his rear pocket and the pocket knife clipped to it. If it was Pinkie or another Pony that didn't look like they were going to start something, then Sting wasn't going to need to say "hi". If it wasn't, well...
He shook his head, bracing himself as the figure staggered into the field. He didn't really know what to think when what looked like a pony covered in an extra thick coat of mud wandered into the light. Aside from the horn, the figure was caked so heavily in the stuff that it was impossible to tell him more than the bare minimum about the being's features. It did seem to be missing a shoe, the being limping from the uneven footing, but not appearing to be hurt. Irate muttering could be heard, the exact words being said lost by the slowly diminishing distance.
What. The hell. Is that? he thought, trying to think of a way to process what exactly he was looking at. 
Not getting or expecting an answer, he kept an eye on the thing approaching, making sure to keep himself as well hidden as he could. When he was forced to shift fully behind the tree he could finally hear what the mud monster was saying. The cultured female voice had a growl to it that made him fairly eager to pull out Sting, especially when he heard the name of his previous guest being spat by the creature.
"When I get home, I am going to take a nice, hot, bath, then I am going to turn Pinkie into a pin-cushion!"
A blue glow surrounded her muck-covered horn as a stained sheet of paper hovered in front of her face.
"No," she continued to fume. "That would be too cruel. Instead, I think making her eat nothing but lemons and salt would be a much better punishment. Maybe that will make her think twice before pulling one of her foul pranks!"
Anon's grimace grew at that, watching the presumed mare with narrowed eyes as she passed. Keeping to the shadows and using what he had been taught back on Earth, Anon watched the mud mare move further down the old trail towards his home. He saw the disgust in her sapphire eyes each time they landed on a tree-claimed house or other forms of abandoned architecture that lined the trail. Aside from that, the trial, and the paper floating in front of her, she didn't bother to give anything her full attention. That worked perfectly for Anon, the human already trying to think of a way to deal with her.
He didn't want to hurt her, especially if she could use magic to do gods-know-what to him if he tried. At the same time, he was not going to let someone fuck with his home. Deciding that he needed more information, he continued to follow her from the shadows. To his surprise, the mare seemed to be calming down the further she traveled down the path. When his house came into view, she stopped, seemingly stunned by the sight. Anon did the same, holding his cover as the mare continued to study his dwelling.
"Well, that answers one question," the mare nervously stated, looking around.
Straightening her posture, she limped towards the house and knocked on his door. Obviously, no one answered, the house's soul occupant keeping to the tree-line as he continued to watch her. While she waited, he crept out of hiding and slowly closed the distance. A bit of irritation entered her posture as she again knocked on the door, a little harder this time as if to match her thinning patience. He stopped ten feet away from her, crossing his arms as he continued to study her with a cautious curiosity.
After about three minutes of waiting, the mare's ears folded pack and an irate growl fell past her muzzle as she slammed a closed fist against the door. Anon jumped from the sudden noise, but was otherwise unaffected by the aggressive display. Given what he had heard her muttering before, it was safe to assume that this mare was a completely different beast compared to Pinkie. A beast that he was not willing to put up with if he could avoid it. Deciding that he had seen enough he cleared his throat loud enough to get the mare's attention.
The mare flinched, her ears instantly straitening and pointing towards him. Slowly she turned towards him with wide, panicked eyes. Anon frowned at her, hiding his nerves behind it and his crossed arms as he locked eyes with her. Slowly, almost cautiously, she turned to face him. Even through the mud, he could see the nervous tension filling the mare's body as her eyes scanned him from top to bottom. He did the same, though it was hard for him to see all that much past the mostly dried mud.
They stayed like that for a few long minutes, neither sure how to progress past this point without triggering a negative reaction out of the other. That went double when the mare noticed how much attention he was aiming at her horn. Ready to put a the legendary creature at ease, she canceled the spell holding up the paper floating near her head, dropping the blue glow coating her horn. She risked a quick grab at the paper as if fell, letting out a small sigh when doing so didn't earn a negative response. 
Anon didn't show it, but the act did put him more at ease. While Pinkie couldn't give him the full specifics of how Unicorn Magic worked, she did tell him about a few things to look for. The biggest thing was the colorful aura that shined around a Unicorn's horn each time they casted their spells. She also taught him a few self-defense techniques against Unicorns if the need ever came, but it looked like such things wouldn't be needed.
He flinched slightly when the mare cleared her throat.
"Anon, correct?" the mare asked, her cultured accent coming off much smoother now that she wasn't fuming.
"Yeah," he nodded, his tone more gruff than he intended. "And you?"
"Oh, terribly sorry, darling," she sheepishly smiled, managing an unsteady curtsy. "My name is Rarity and it is a pleasure to meet you, dear."
"Charmed," he flatly stated, not buying the formal display. "Now, what the hell are you doing out here?"
"Well," she nervously giggled, left hand stopping just short of anxiously rubbing her right arm due to the mud. "Pinkie mentioned meeting somepony new yesterday and was insistent that I meet them as well."
Well, that explains how she found my house so easily, he thought, not sure how he felt about this turn of events. I mean, I am pretty far out of the way, as far as I can tell.
"I know this may be a bit forward of me," Rarity nervously stated, snapping him out of his musings. "But could I, perhaps, have a shower?"
He blinked, not sure if he had heard her properly at first. When it was clear that he hadn't misheard her, he quickly mulled over her request. While he did have a working drying and washing machine, he didn't exactly have anything she could change into. He also did not want to have to clean up his shower after all of that mud came off of her. Sure, he could lend her some sweats until her stuff got cleaned, but that still meant he had to deal with having yet another stranger in his home for a few hours. He tried to voice his thoughts, but made the fatal mistake of locking eyes with Rarity. The near desperate look in her eyes killed whatever arguments against the idea as soon as they formed, the mare looking more like a kicked puppy than Pinkie did the day before.
He let out an irritated sigh.
"Fine," he grumbled, earning a grateful smile from the mare. "But only because you're Pinkie's friend."
"Thank you so much," she beamed. "I promise to make this up to you."
"Whatever," he sighed, moving past her to get to the door.
I'm way to fucking nice.


***


An awkward silence filled the living room
The Human and Pony kept to themselves, the former alternating between petting the cat at his side and shuffling some black-sleeved cards while the latter enjoyed a cup of tea. Now free of the mud, Rarity was a lot less stressed, but still felt unclean in her borrowed dressings. While a vast improvement compared to the damaged clothing she arrived in, the gray sweatshirt and sweatpants she wore made her skin crawl. 
Looking around, she tried to find something to help distract her from her current situation. Just like the last dozen time she did that, she fought back a cringe over the drab colors and organic decorum surrounding her. While she was willing to admit that it all had an interesting charm to it, it was all just too bland for her more sophisticated tastes. Anon looked up from his cards with a frown, more than able to notice the mare's discomfort.
While Rarity had been civil, it was obvious that something was putting her on edge. It didn't bother him too much, seeing as he was just as eager to see her leave. He never trusted posh people, more than half of them stabbing him in the back on numerous jobs back on Earth. Those types always found ways to shortchange people, especially if they thought you were beneath them. Sure, there were a few rare exceptions to that social rule, but the keyword was exceptions. It was a refusal to become those kind of people that led to his more humble living conditions, in spite of his rumored talents.
A light huff from the mare snapped him out of his thoughts.
"Is something wrong?" he asked, eyes locking onto the seven cards he drew.
"I...do not know if I should say," Rarity meekly stated, staring into her teacup.
"If something's bugging you, go ahead and say it," he huffed, returning his cards to his deck and reshuffling.
Rarity hesitated, her eyes moving back and forth in a silent internal debate for a few seconds before letting out a frustrating huff. With an indignant frown, she set her tea down onto its saucer then daintily put it down onto the table. Anon barely met her gaze as he went through his cards.
"Where should I start!?" she exclaimed. "Everything here is just so, so, so bland! A few good colors could make this place so much more dazzling!"
"Like what?" he casually asked, still fiddling with his cards.
"Something much brighter than these boring earthen tones!" she sputtered, gesturing wildly at the room around them. "Perhaps some light blues or reds along with some silver lined ornaments to catch the light better!"
"Metal work, eh?" he sighed, drawing a card off the top of his deck and studying it. "Might be a bit tricky to make that work."
"I do know a few ponies that could help with that," Rarity nodded. "Then there's the furniture."
"Go on," he frowned, aiming it at the card before he put it back into the deck and shuffled it again.
"While the rustic charm has its, well, charms, I feel that something a bit more formal would be able to add a more sophisticated flare to the scene."
"Sounds pricy," he snorted, glaring at the new hand he drew.  
"I'm sure I could find somepony that could do the work for a fare price," Rarity chuckled, waving away the man's concerns. "As for the floor, I feel carpeting would be more comfortable than hardwood."
"I guess," he shrugged, setting the deck down onto the coffee table set between them. "As soon as I have the time, materials, and money to do so, I'll be sure to gut all of my hard work for you, your majesty."
"You're...hard work?" she asked, eyes widening and ears wilting in realization.
"Yeah," he frowned. "Every single thing you see here was made by your's truly."
He leaned back in his seat, closing his eyes and facing the ceiling as he waved a hand around.
"The walls, wiring, plumbing, flooring, and furniture are all things I crafted with my own two hands."
Rarity gawked at that, immediately stumbling over herself to try an form an apology, but a raised had made her stop. 
"Stop," he sighed, still staring at the ceiling. "Once your clothes are done, you can leave and never have to put up with my home again."
Rarity was about to counter that, but stopped herself with a defeated sigh. Anon ignored her, silently hoping the damn laundry would hurry the hell up. While they sat in dense silence, Rarity eventually noticed the black-sleeved cards on the table. Curious, she reached down and took a card off of the stack, raising a brow as she read the card's name aloud.
"Vito, Thorn of the....Dusk Rose?"
Anon instantly sat up, face contorted into a venomous glare as he gave the mare his full attention.
"Put. It. Back," he growled, not once taking his eyes off of her.
Rarity stiffly nodded, quickly doing as she was told.
"I-I'm sorry," she stammered, leaning back in her seat away from the cards.
Anon took a deep breath to steady his nerves before he picked up the deck and put in back into its box. They sat in awkward silence for a few more minutes until Rarity eventually found her voice.
"I take it those were some of the cards Pinkie mentioned. The ones from your world?"
"Yeah," he sighed. "Sorry about flipping out like that. I...my cards mean a lot to me."
"So I've heard," she nodded, ears folding flat on her head. "All the more reason that I should be the one apologizing. With everything Pinkie told me, I should've known better."
"If you say so," he shrugged. "Still. Sorry."
Rarity was going to argue, but decided to let it drop. She spent more than enough time around her friend Applejack to recognize a losing battle when she saw one. Instead, she decided to move the conversation along to a topic that was a bit less frustrating.
"Pinkie said that your game had a philosophy to it," she said, eying the deck. "What one does that one have?"
Happy for the conversational turn, he smiled down a the deck box before he once again took the cards back out.
"Well, seeing as this is a monoblack deck, it runs fully on that color's way of thinking. Put simply, Black is the color of power and selfishness. Those that use that particular school of magic will do whatever it takes to gain the power needed to complete their goals. This can range from killing off a rival organization to making deals then betraying demons if it means getting what the caster wants. Hell, any laws that don't benefit the caster just get ignored if they get in the way."
"That is simply horrid," Rarity gasped. "Who would use such a distasteful form of magic?"
"The most ambitious?" he shrugged. "Black magic is selfishness incarnate. Sacrificing others or stabbing people in the back is just part of doing business for the caster. Of course, that's only one part of the color's way of thinking."
"What do you mean?" Rarity asked, raising a brow.
"Black may be ruthless, but it is also the most calculatedly driven. Black isn't afraid to take unorthodox, immoral, or even illegal methods to complete a goal. Sure, this could mean world domination or telling the laws of life and death to go fuck themselves, but this can also lead to some acts of good."
"I fail to see how," Rarity frowned.
He smirked knowingly at that, then started taking cards out of his deck and putting them onto the table.
"Because black doesn't care about laws, it will use illegal practices that might be more affective then the legal ones. Because black isn't held back by morals, it won't hesitate to kill anyone that hurts the people it cares about. And because Black is selfish, if you can make it your friend, it will kill gods to keep you safe."
"That....does sound tempting," she allowed, eying the cards on the table with a bit more intrigue.
"All of the colors have their good and bad attributes," he snorted. "Black just likes to put its worst qualities out in front."
"Care to list off some examples of its 'good' side?" Rarity pressed with a smirk.
He thought about that for a couple seconds, then pointed at one of the cards on the table.
"This card has the power to bring back one of your killed creatures. If say, a detective had that kind of power, he could bring back a murder victim and ask them who killed them."
He pointed at another card before he continued.
"This one can remove cards from a player's hand, which is the game's equivalent of your mind. A black mage could use this kind of power to remove a traumatic memory from someone's mind."
When he pointed at the last card on the table, his face took on a more serious expression.
"Damnation," he frowned. "This card, in my opinion, reflects the most important part of Black. With this power, Black can annihilate everything in sight, including the caster's own allies."
"And that is good, how?" Rarity balked.
"Because it reminds the caster that nothing comes without a cost. Black is all about power and the more power the caster uses, the bigger the toll they have to pay. Every time a Black mage casts a spell, they have to be sure the cost is worth the power their about to unleash at any given moment. Regardless of whether they chose to be heroes or villains, this usually leads to Black mages becoming paranoid loners, always sitting on a dagger's edge between the two roles."
He added one last somber note as he put the cards away, something that made the mare look at the cards in a new light.
"Black may not be the nicest color, but if you are willing to give up enough, it will make any goal you have that much easier to complete"
"A fairly wise way to look at things," she nodded, then sheepishly added, "Unlike my actions so far."
"You mean running your mouth about how I chose to build my house?" he asked, raising a brow. "Yeah, not your greatest moment."
"I am truly sorry for that," she wilted. "I just can't help myself sometimes."
"It's fine," he sighed. "Just try not to do it again, kay?"
Rarity nodded, a small smile gracing her muzzle.
A moment later, the dryer let out a soft ding that echoed through the house.