//------------------------------// // Chapter 21: Confrontations (H. Fluttershy, H. Sweetie Belle, P. Rarity) // Story: On the Fine Art of Giving Yourself Advice // by McPoodle //------------------------------// H. Fluttershy—Equestria, above the streets of Canterlot. 11:15 am on Day Three. Fluttershy, Rainbow Dash and Gilda were all flying above Canterlot, and Rainbow Dash had finished explaining the secrets of Markism to Gilda. “So, did you know any of this before this mess?” Gilda asked. “No, they kept that counterpart stuff secret from everyone,” Rainbow replied, landing on the roof of a building. The other two followed suit. “I’m not surprised,” Gilda replied. “Imagine what the larger public would think! They’d exploit the...” She glanced over at Fluttershy’s vengeful glare. “...Heck out it. Or hate you. Like the X-Men. So these magic powers, are they for all the Markists who are also ponies?” “I think it’s only the mental ones,” Rainbow said. “Like, when I get home...no more flying. And that’s all I got.” “I think I heard something about damage resistance carrying over to the counterparts,” Fluttershy said. “All pegasi are lightning-proof.” “Yeah, but Gilda told me that Pony Me said that it really hurts. Um, Griffon You, Gilda.” “Yeah, I get that. So what’s she like, this fantasy version of me?” Fluttershy looked like she was going to say something, but she held it back. Gilda noticed. “Go on, say it, Fluttershy. I won’t be mad. I think I would be so surprised if you ever made me mad that I’d stop being mad, if you get what I mean.” Fluttershy rolled her eyes. “I was going to say that she was like you before you became a jerk. But now that you made me think about it, that’s kind of petty.” “It is,” Gilda said in a mock-condemning tone. “But I get it. Life sucks for me in general, I took that suckiness out on RD here because she makes such a good meat puppet, and you hated the fact that she let me do it.” “Hey!” Rainbow Dash objected. “I resent that remark!” She turned to Gilda. “But I gotta say: I’ve never heard this level of honesty from you before. Like those nerd drops about Harry Potter and X-Men. You’d never admit knowing about that stuff. What gives?” “It’s this place, Rainbow,” Gilda said, walking over to the edge of the roof. “This is the capital of Fantasyland, right?” She looked over to Fluttershy with a twinkle in her eye, daring her to issue a correction. She sat back on her hind legs and crossed her front ones, refusing to be baited. “Yeah,” Rainbow said, utterly missing the non-verbal communication that just happened. “And I’d say this is kind of the slum of that capital city, right?” Rainbow walked over to stand beside Gilda and look around. “I guess...” “And what don’t you see or hear?” Gilda asked her, using a wing to gesture over the blocks of businesses with homes on their second floors. “No crime being committed, much less crime being ignored by the police. No screaming from victimized women, or crying of abandoned babies. I don’t even see any broken windows! Do you know that I haven’t gone a single day in The Heights, in my entire life, without seeing at least one broken shop or car window? We’re part of Canterlot City too, the ‘perfect city of the Markists’, but you couldn’t tell that from where I was standing. But here? I don’t even see any abandoned or ‘For Sale’ businesses! That’s nuts! This is Fantasyland! And I can totally see why the higher ups in the know in your religion totally want to turn Earth into this. Who wouldn’t?” Fluttershy, listening to this speech, slowly made up her mind on what she needed to tell Gilda. When Gilda finished, Fluttershy flew over so she could stand on the top of the outer wall and look down at Gilda. “Gilda, are you devout?” “Nah,” Gilda said. “My god clearly doesn’t give a d—” (hoof in beak) “—darn about anything going on on Earth. Maybe He moved on to some other, shinier planet.” “Well we can point at our goddess. We might have to figure out how to point 12-dimensionally, but She’s there.” “Yeah, and then she screws up and you find yourself stuffed into the body of a horse.” “It’s better than nothing. So why don’t you convert? Markists aren’t racists, Gilda. They won’t judge you for the paleness of your skin.” Gilda barked out a laugh. “It’s true!” Fluttershy insisted. “If you convert, you get to be a first-class citizen. I’m not saying I approve of that system. What I’m saying is, why don’t you take advantage of it? I know you’re good at working every other system in existence to your advantage.” Gilda pouted. “Yeah, but then I’d be admitting that they were right.” “They don’t care!” Fluttershy exclaimed, almost rising to the level of an actual shout. “Only you do.” “But then I’d be alone,” Gilda said in a little voice. “I’m the only one of us who’s crossed over, who’s seen what being a Markist would truly mean. Believe it or not, I made friends in The Heights when I went back. Kinda crummy friends, I’ll be the first to admit. But I don’t want to say goodbye to them. Besides: I’m not getting any cool powers.” Rainbow Dash shrugged. “Neither am I, as I just told you. Fluttershy’s the lucky one out of the three of us.” “Oh? What do you do, control butterflies with the power of your mind?” Fluttershy, on having the conversation turned back towards herself, shrank visibly. She hopped down from the ledge and hid behind her mane. “I can talk to animals,” she said. “It’s no big deal.” “No big deal? Flutters, that’s awesome. You don’t know how many times I’ve wanted to talk to all of the stray cats I run into every day. I can point you to these three calicos that always stick together, and they look a h...heck of a lot smarter than the gang I hang with.” Rainbow Dash blanched. “Uh look, when you say ‘gang’, do you literally mean ‘gang’, or do you mean—” “Gilda!” boomed a voice from above them. “What did I tell you about never setting claw in my city again?” The trio looked up, to see that they were surrounded by over two dozen griffons flying around them in a circle. Every single one of them were wearing kitchen attire, and their leader was a full chef. The lead chef landed on the ledge, walking right into Gilda and forcing her to back up. Half of the other griffons landed around them, and the others stayed in the air, blocking any escape via flying. “It’s time for us to finally settle our debts, Gilda,” the chef said. Gilda looked around her, then laughed evilly. “Look, Chef Ramsay, you picked the wrong day to mess with Gilda.” “Ram Sea?!” The chef asked, equal parts incredulous and infuriated. “Have you been integrating so much with ponies you forgot how to tell us griffons apart? I’m Gustave Le Grand, hatchling. And don’t you forget it!” “And I’m Grizelda V of the Emerald Sky Clan,” Gilda loudly proclaimed, getting her beak right up in Gustave’s face. “Nobody who’s ever crossed me has ever forgotten it, saving the ones who are no longer around to remember anything!” Gustave stepped back in shock. “Just what are you implying?” he asked. Gilda performed a face-claw. “And here I was hoping you griffons would be a bunch of bad-asses, but it turns out you’re a bunch of pansies too!” “What are you saying?” Gustave demanded. Then he turned to his second-in-command and said, “I’m serious. Do any of you have any idea what a ‘bad ass’ is? Is it a disobedient donkey? And how is making that comparison possibly relevant under the circumstances?” Fluttershy groaned. “That’s it,” she muttered. “I can just feel society degrading.” After a few moments the second said, “I think she meant to say ‘bad flank’.” Gustave turned to Gilda. “I am too a bad-flank!” Gilda face-clawed a second time. At that moment the door to the roof opened and Vinny the Vice-Captain of the Guard emerged, clad in full armor. “Alright, everypony, party’s over!” “There’s a party up there?” the voice of an excited pony drifted up to them out of the open door. “I think he was being metaphorical,” a second, much duller voice added. “Oh, those are the worst kind of parties!” said the first voice. Gustave walked around Gilda to confront the guard. “Look, Pony,” she said, poking his armor with a claw. “This is griffon business, so back off.” He then looked over his shoulder to see Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy, as if for the first time. “Hey, fillies!” he cried. “Scram. My business is with Miss ‘Grizelda’ over there, not you. Go home to your mommies or something.” The “fillies” refused to budge. With a sigh, Gustave turned back to see a stern Vinny still staring at her. He peered around the guard to make sure there was no other pony in sight. “Look, you’re clearly outnumbered here, Pal. And everygriff knows that you ponies don’t give a flying feather about any of us. So pretend you didn’t see anything, and go back the way you came.” “I’m afraid I can’t do that, ‘Pal’,” Vinny replied. “The Princess herself is interested in this particular griffon.” Gustave got up in Vinny’s face, trying his best to emulate what Gilda had done to him a couple of minutes ago. “And I think you should just ‘disappear’ before something happens to you,” he warned. Vinny charged his horn. “I believe you are the one who needs to disappear. Right now.” Gustave punched Vinny’s horn, causing the magical glow to go out and Vinny to fall over. “Scram, Horny!” he screamed in his face. “No,” Vinny said quietly. “Well I’m going to toss you off of that roof,” Gustave threatened. “Think you can stop me?” Vinny huffed for a moment. “Yeah,” he said finally. “‘Yeah’?” Gustave repeated. “You and whose army?” Vinny lifted a hoof to point upwards. “It’s more like an air force, actually.” Gustave and the rest of his gang looked up, to see nearly fifty pegasi guards flying silently above them. The gang scattered in all directions. The guards remained hovering above the building. Gustave hovered into the air. “Well...you haven’t heard the last of me: Chef Ram Sea!” And with that he booked it to the horizon. “Chief?” called down one of the pegasi guards. “Shall we pursue?” Vinny shook his head. “Don’t bother.” He got up, dusted himself off, and walked over to the remaining griffon and two pegasi. “That wasn’t Chef Ram Sea,” said Rainbow Dash. “I know who that was,” said Vinny. “Not all unicorns are the racist caricatures that they think we are.” “I could have taken them,” Gilda grumbled. “Yeah, but would you have done it harmoniously?” Vinny asked. “As a matter of fact, my chosen technique happens to be the exact opposite of harmonious, so no.” “Come on,” Vinny said, turning and walking down the stairway that descended from the open door into the building. “The Princess is waiting.” “‘Grizelda V of the Emerald Sky Clan’?” Rainbow Dash asked incredulously. Gilda let out a loud sigh, shaking her head. “Genealogy, my good Rainbow. I swear, what are they teaching in schools these days?!” She put the back of a claw briefly to her forehead in mock indignation. H. Sweetie Belle—Earth, the Apple Orchard. 1:08 p.m. A traffic accident made the trip from Canterlot High to the Apple residence much longer than usual. When Luna parked the car, Rarity looked over at her. “I need to talk to Applejack alone, or this just isn’t going to work.” To Sweetie Belle, she said, “Don’t come in there, no matter what you hear. This might get ugly.” She then grinned evilly. Sweetie did a double-take. “I just heard you say the word ‘ugly’ in a non-cataclysmic setting.” “I’m serious,” Rarity said, getting out of the car. Luna and Sweetie watched as she climbed the steps onto the front porch of the apple-red house and then knocked on the door. “Mr. Apple, could I speak to Applejack please?” they heard her say to the shadowed individual who opened the door after an uncomfortable pause. “I’m afraid she’s sick,” the voice of Bright Mac could be heard answering. “I’m afraid that I must insist,” said Rarity. “May I come in?” “Well I suppose...” Bright Mac said. Then the wooden door opened and Rarity walked inside. The moment the door closed, Sweetie burst out of the car and ran over to the porch, clambering up onto it rather than using the creaky stairs, and settled herself, sitting down with her back between the closed door and the large window beside it. Luna got out of the car with a frown, walking over so she was looking at Sweetie without being on the porch itself. “Sweetie Belle, what are you—?” she started to ask in a low voice. Sweetie made a shushing gesture at her. With a roll of the eyes, Luna replicated Sweetie’s maneuver, ending up sitting beside Sweetie with her own back against the wall. Sweetie gestured for Luna to bend sideways so that she could whisper into her ear. “I came over here once to visit Applejack’s little sister,” she explained. “These walls are like paper.” Luna straightened up and shrugged. After all, she was curious what Rarity was going to do as well. P. Rarity. Inside the house, Rarity looked up the stairs. “Is she up there?” she asked. “Yup,” said Bright Mac. “Could you ask her to come down?” “Can’t you just go up there?” Rarity shook her head. “It’s got to be down here.” Bright Mac sighed. “Well, I’ll ask. But I can’t make any promises.” “That’s all right,” Rarity said. She watched as Applejack’s father climbed up the stairs and walked out of sight, then quickly looked around her. Spotting a large mirror mounted to the door of the staircase closet, she walked over and looked herself over. Experimentally, she pushed her pointy nose downward with a finger to see if she could make it look more attractive according to Pony standards. “Hello, Rarity,” Buttercup said as she walked into the room from the kitchen, an apron around her waist. “Shouldn’t you be in school?” Rarity’s eyes went wide and for a moment Buttercup thought that she looked like she was looking at a ghost. Then she looked down and finally took her finger off of her nose. “In school? I might ask the same question about your daughter,” she said darkly. “Yes,” Buttercup said in a matching tone, looking up in the direction of Applejack’s bedroom. She made to go up the stairs. “Could I ask a big favor from you, Mrs. Apple?” Rarity quickly asked. “Yes?” Buttercup asked, looking back at her. Rarity walked over to a couch in the living room and patted her hand on one cushion. “Could you stay here for a bit? Having both of you present will make Applejack more honest.” Buttercup narrowed her eyes as she once more looked up in the direction of her daughter’s room. “All right,” she said after a moment, turning and sitting down where Rarity had suggested. A few moments later Bright Mac came downstairs. “I’m sorry, Rarity,” he told her. “It’s like I thought: Applejack’s just too sick to be seeing anybody today. I mean, you should have seen her temperature this morning! It was high enough to kill most normal people.” “Bright Mac, could you sit here beside me?” Buttercup asked. When he had done so, she lightly added, “Rarity is here for an intervention.” “A what?” Rarity meanwhile walked over to the front door. She opened it, waited a moment, and then slammed it closed with considerable force, startling Bright Mac. Before he could say anything, Rarity raised a finger to her lips. (She hoped that gesture carried over from when it was a hoof placed in front of much larger lips.) A few seconds later, Rarity could hear a door upstairs being opened. With that as her cue, she walked into the living room to face the two Apple parents. “Mr. and Mrs. Apple,” she told them in a louder-than-necessary voice, “I regret to inform you that Applejack isn’t really your daughter, she’s an—” Rarity found herself silenced by a fist pushed into her open mouth. The fist of Applejack, wearing a nightgown and matching nightcap, both decorated with little apples. “Not another word,” hissed Applejack. “We had a deal!” Rarity looked calmly at Applejack. She glanced down at the fist in her mouth. Applejack removed the fist and wiped it off on her nightgown. Applejack then remembered to resume her glare. “Deal’s off,” Rarity said lightly, not trying to be quiet like Applejack was. “I just found out the portal is closing today, and may not reopen in our lifetimes.” Applejack slowly straightened up, her eyes unfocused. “You know what?” she said. “That changes nothing. I’m staying, and that’s final.” “Oh it is, is it?” Rarity said indignantly. “And how long do you expect to keep up this charade?” She gestured towards Applejack’s parents. “Forever!” Applejack replied. “Applejack, you’re an awful liar and you know it! Those two have probably already figured out that you’re a fraud!” Applejack’s eyes blazed with anger. She made to tackle Rarity, but stopped herself to look over at her parents. “I don’t know what’s gotten into her,” she told them. “She’s gone plum bonkers!” Bright Mac nodded eagerly, looking over at Rarity with suspicion. Buttercup meanwhile rolled her eyes. “Applejack, we’re leaving, you and I!” Rarity said, pointing dramatically towards the front door. “And I will take you by force if necessary.” “I’d like to see you try,” Applejack said with a sneer. Rarity glared at Applejack for a moment, and then with a battle cry she shoved into her like a linebacker in a football game. Applejack planted her feet and tried to resist, especially in the direction of the front door. To her surprise, she found herself being irresistibly shoved towards the under-stair coat closet. Buttercup and Bright Mac sprang up from the couch, turning to follow the action. When Bright Mac made to jump the couch and rescue his daughter, he was stopped by the firm grip of his wife on his arm. Reaching the wall, Rarity wrapped her right leg around Applejack’s, using both knees and her shoulder to shove Applejack painfully into the door. She then grabbed Applejack’s hair at the forehead and yanked back, knocking her night cap off. “Tell her that you’re staying here forever!” she yelled. Applejack darted her eyes around to look fearfully at Rarity. “Rarity, I’m—” “NOT ME!” Rarity screamed in her ear. She grabbed Applejack’s head with both hands and turned it so she was looking into the mirror. “I need you to tell her, Applejack. I need you to tell that other Applejack you’re looking at right now, that you’re going to maintain this bodily theft for the rest of her life. I need you to tell those parents’ daughter that she’s going to spend the rest of her life in a world, WHERE HER PARENTS ARE DEAD!!” Applejack locked eyes with the reflection of a face that was not hers for just a moment, and started shaking. Rarity took this as her cue to release Applejack from her hold and step away. As Mr. and Mrs. Apple approached, Applejack slowly dropped down into a heap on the floor, sobbing with all of her might. “It...it’s not fair!” she wailed. “Why does she have to have such a perfect life, while I lost everything!” Buttercup kneeled down and pulled Applejack into a hug. After a brief pause, Bright Mac did the same. Buttercup ran her hand repeatedly down Applejack’s shaking back. “There, there,” she said soothingly. “It’s all right, little Applejack. You’re an Apple, no matter where you came from, and an Apple always does the right thing.” Applejack wailed harder. “Now, now, none of that,” Bright Mac said gently. “Seems to me that you got an opportunity that most kids in your situation never got.” Applejack stopped crying with some effort. After sniffling a couple of times she asked, “How so?” “You get to say goodbye,” Bright Mac replied. “Did you get to do that last time?” Applejack sniffled some more. “...No.” “Well, there you go,” Bright Mac said. Applejack gently pushed her parents away, and then cleaned her face with the sleeve of her nightgown. “How long do we have?” she asked Rarity. Rarity, who had been using her compact to put her face back together, looked down at Applejack. “Until midnight, Darling. But this is already like the third crisis to hit in less than that many hours.” “So, Ponyville Normal, then?” Applejack asked, shakily rising to her feet. “I’m afraid so,” answered Rarity. “Alright,” Applejack said quietly. She turned to Mr. and Mrs. Apple. “Ma, Pa...” “Or the human copies thereof,” Rarity said with a trace of snark. Applejack shot Rarity a dark look before turning her eyes back to her parents. “I guess I gotta go. I’m sorry I lied to you all this time.” “That’s alright,” Buttercup said. “You never had me fooled for a moment, but I always knew that you were just a good egg under a bad hen.” Bright Mac looked over at his wife with a look of complete disbelief. Buttercup’s returning glare could melt lead. “Yeah, what she said,” he then deadpanned to Applejack. Applejack walked over to the stairs. “I’m gonna go get dressed now,” she informed Rarity. “That seems best,” Rarity replied in a voice devoid of any emotion whatsoever. As Applejack was climbing the stairs, she looked over at the two parents. “By the way, we are not goats, we’re ponies,” she informed them. “What?” Buttercup asked in confusion. A moment later: “Oh...kid, goat. No, we call human children kids sometimes.” “Oh,” said Rarity. She wished she knew this earlier, because now she had the image etched into her brain of herself and Applejack as goat versions of themselves. With beards! “My daughter’s a pony,” Bright Mac said incredulously to himself. “Sure explains that thing with the sugar cubes.” A few moments later, Applejack came downstairs, wearing the same outfit she had from the first day. She toyed nervously with her hat. “Do...do you mind if I keep this? As something to remember you by.” This triggered a fierce hug from Buttercup and Bright Mac. Rarity, sensing that the trio wanted some privacy, let herself out the front door. She looked over at the empty car, and then looked around until she spotted her sister and her vice-principal sitting on the floor next to her. Sweetie Belle got up. “The pony version of me is so lucky to have you as a sister,” she said, before walking to the car and getting into the back seat. Luna got up, looked at Rarity, opened her mouth for a moment, and then closed it. “Good plan,” she said finally. “Although of course that’s spoken as the sister of an infuriatingly-perfect person, not as the vice-principal of the school.” “I’ll try to keep that in mind, for the brief period I hope it will take until the distinction ceases to matter to me,” Rarity said. She turned a bit so Luna could see her backside. “By the way, how do I look?” “Oh, that’s completely torn,” Luna commented, before swiftly walking over to the door and getting into the driver’s seat. “What?!” Rarity screamed, turning about and trying to use her compact in her outstretched hand to survey the damage. “Oh what I would give to have my pony neck back right now!” “Kidding!” Luna yelled back. Rarity stomped her foot. “You do not joke about fashion like that!” she exclaimed. She stomped dramatically over to the car, glared through the passenger window at an insanely-grinning Luna, and then stomped some more so she could get into the back seat behind Luna. “Move over!” she ordered her sister. Sweetie took the abuse with a smile nearly as wide as Luna’s. A few very awkward moments later (for Rarity, and only for Rarity), the trio was joined by a teary-eyed Applejack, and the car then made its way back to Canterlot High.