//------------------------------//
// Sweet Sixteen 
// Story: Patch Notes 
// by CopperTop 
//------------------------------//

“Starting off, I’d like to take a few moments to extend my congratulations to Miss Value on her birthday.  For those in the class that are unaware, Miss Value is turning sixteen today.  Let us all wish her well on her special day!”  The holographic purple earth pony mare with its pink and lilac streaked mane that was standing at the front of the classroom glitched briefly as the projection abruptly transitioned from the rigid standing position that was its default into a sitting position, clapping its hooves together as it grinned broadly at the rest of the class.  The sound of clopping hooves emanating from the speakers over the students’ heads was slightly out of sync with the motions of the projection, creating an off-putting effect which prompted a frown from the subject of the impromptu ‘celebration’.
A smattering of applause sprung up from around the room, but it was clearly unenthusiastic in nature.  Save for one pair which stood out from among the rest, simply by virtue of how energetically the filly in question was clapping.  I turned my head in mild surprise at the sound and found that the source of the quite genuine-sounding celebration was coming from the filly seated next to me.  Specifically my long-time foalhood friend, Dead Nettle.  The off-white earth pony was smiling broadly at me and clopping her hooves together in a display of obvious glee at the prospect of her friend and classmate turning another year older today.
It was something that I found a little off-putting honestly, especially since my friend was better known for her more typically laid-back―and even outright dower―demeanor.  Indeed, very little about the earth pony’s current expressions and actions matched up well with the all-black ‘mare in mourning’ motif she was dressed in with its long black dress and delicate lacework―which actually was quite in character for my friend.  Though I did notice that Nettle wasn’t wearing any of the dark makeup that she normally used on her lips and eyes.  In fact…was that rouge on her cheeks that I was seeing?
“Happy birthday, Boo!” The other filly said to me through her beaming smile.
“...Yeah.  Thanks, Dead End,” I replied hesitantly, still a little taken aback by the dramatic shift in my friend’s personality since I’d seen her last friday.
The earth pony’s smile faltered into a faint grimace as she winced upon hearing me refer to her by the nickname that she’d been insistent upon others using for the last few years.  She leaned in closer to me and said in a quiet whisper, “Actually, if it’s not too much trouble, I think I’d like to go by ‘Netty’ now.  If you don’t mind?”
I balked at the request.  Not because I was averse to changing how I referred to my friend―Twilight knew that we’d changed our preferred names quite a lot over the years in our quests for the perfect ‘cool names’―but rather because I’d long known that ‘Netty’ was a name that Dead Nettle specifically hated to be called by.  It had been the name her parents used for her since she was a foal, and she had viewed it as explicitly foalish and unambiguously not ‘cool’.  I’d seen her wince and groan just last week when her parents used it while wishing her a pleasant day at school when I’d picked her up at her house.
What could possibly have changed since then?
“Sure…Netty.  It’s totally shiny with me if that’s what you want to be called.”  I watched the smile return to my friend’s face as she nodded. “So, how was your birthday on Saturday?” I inquired, “Did your parents insist on throwing you some lame party anyway, even though you told them birthday parties were stupid and just for little fillies?”
The earth pony bit her lip sheepishly, her hoof awkwardly rubbing at her other leg as she suddenly found it hard to make eye-contact. “Yeah, they did, but it was actually pretty fun!” She insisted, much to my own shock and surprise.  My friend then glanced up at me again with a slightly hurt expression. “...I was disappointed that you didn’t come.  You got the invitation, right?”
“I-bu-huh?!” Words briefly failed me as I tried to defend my actions―or lack thereof, in this instance―in the face of my friend’s subtle accusation. “I mean, yeah, I got it; but you told me to ignore it and not to come because your parents made you send it!  You told me parties were lame and we’d do something cool together later on!”
Another wince from the other mare followed by an acknowledging nod. “Yeah, I did.  I don’t know why I felt that way though.  Birthday parties are the best!  My parents even got me the new AetherRig model!  I didn’t know that they could be so cool!”
I felt my eyes again widened in surprise at the announcement.  “Wait, you mean the 4th Gen A-Rig?  They got you that?” Netty nodded with a broad smile. “Oh, shit!  That thing’s supposed to be totally badass!  I never would have expected lame parents like yours to shell out the bits for something like that…”
Netty winced again, and then hesitantly ventured, “...Can you hold off on the swearing please?  It’s kind of making me uncomfortable.”
My earlier awe evaporated as I stared at my friend in stunned silence.  Then I felt the corner of my mouth tick up in anticipation of a smile.  Surely this was the build up to some sort of joke. “...You’re fucking with me.” The earth pony’s face contorted with another, much more pronounced, wince and she shook her head, her lips pinched together like she’d just tasted something sour.
“I…” I was frankly at a loss for words.  Netty didn’t like my swearing?  She could string together sentences that would make a griffon blush!
“Don’t worry, I’m not mad you missed my party.  It was my fault.” Netty went on as she flashed me a slightly forced smile. “We’ll do something together tomorrow after school though, alright?  I can’t today because I’m going with my parents to my brother’s recital.”
“I thought you were going to pretend to be sick so you could get out of that?”
“I was,” she admitted hesitantly, “…but Rosewood’s worked so hard to get into the Melody-Scratch Academy for Music, and this is going to be his first recital, and he’s just so excited to show us how good he’s gotten since leaving home…I don’t want to let him down.”
“...The same Rosewood you called a ‘fucking hypocrite sell-out bastard’ two years ago when he dropped out of the garage band he used to play bass for to pursue ‘old-pony music’?  That Rosewood?” I asked skeptically.  She winced again when I swore and appeared to look genuinely remorseful as I recounted her long-held opinion of her elder brother.  “Who are you and what did you do with my friend?” I incorporated a chuckle as I spoke to indicate I was being facetious, but inside I felt like I was only half joking.  The filly next to me really did feel like a completely different pony from the one I’d known since we were in diapers.
Dead End―er, Netty―let out a slightly anemic laugh of her own as she shrugged. “I guess I just sorta…grew up?  Music’s music.  As long as my brother’s happy, I should be happy for him, right?”
“I…guess?” If Netty was willing to forgive his ‘betrayal’, that was her business.  It was her brother after all.  And it wasn’t like I’d had any personal stake in the matter.  Although I had rather liked the music that her brother’s band put out before they broke up.  There wasn’t a lot of ‘mainstream’ music like it out there in the world.  Honestly, nearly anything even remotely similar had to be passed around from hoof-to-hoof because none of the more ‘reputable’ stores or leyline-base distributors carried anything like it.  Legally they couldn’t sell anything that hadn’t been cleared by the Royal Equestrian Ministry of Arts as being appropriately ‘harmonious’ for public consumption.  And REMA wasn’t about to give anything that called out how controlling the government was their hoofstamp of approval.
So it was up to fillies like me to help ‘The Cause’ of keeping actually good music alive in the world by running my little ley server so that even music that wasn’t ‘harmonious’ enough by the ministry’s standards was still available for those who wanted it.  It was something that was getting harder and harder to do, if I was being honest.
Though that wasn’t because of any sort of crack-down or direct intervention on the part of the Ministry.  If anything, the government body which one might have assumed would be opposed to the sort of things I was doing just on principle actually seemed to be largely apathetic when it came to ‘unauthorized’ music being distributed through ‘unofficial’ channels.  Twilight knew it would have been easy enough for the government to swoop in and shut down my little rune-kiddie operation with no trouble at all, and I’d have been powerless to do anything to stop it.  But they didn’t really seem to mind what I was doing.
No, what was making it hard to continue my efforts was the fact that the bands I was working so hard to promote tended to just sort of…stop making music.  At least, the kind of music that I was interested in hosting and spreading.  They’d either break up after a few years, like Rosewood’s band had, or they’d change their style entirely into something that was more ‘Ministry-Friendly’.  When the latter happened, their music received REMA-approval and their albums became available through legitimate distributors.  Which made my own efforts entirely redundant, even if I had been interested in continuing to promote their songs―which I honestly wasn’t.
I was about to ask further about Netty’s change of heart where her brother and parents were concerned, but it was at that moment where our instructor had apparently decided that there had been more than enough time afforded to acknowledging my birthday.  The projection of the earth pony mare appeared suddenly between the two of us, earning a small yelp from myself as I found my view abruptly taken up entirely by a reproachful mare. “While collaboration with your fellow students is encouraged, students are reminded to restrict such discussions to the material being taught.  Music class is in: TWO HOURS,” I winced at the abrupt shift in tone and volume as the projection’s teaching program apparently drew from an alternate library of voice clips for the time.
“Sorry, Miss CHEERLI,” Netty apologized while I elected to simply sink down in my chair and subtly glare at the hologram as it flickered out and ‘teleported’ back to the front of the classroom.  There was another brief stutter from our instructor as the system reset itself and resumed teaching the day’s first lesson.  As much as I would have liked to keep talking with Netty, I had long since learned that―unlike flesh and blood ponies―our  school’s Computerized Harmony Education and Enrichment Remote Learning Intelligence system did effectively have ‘eyes’ in the back of its head, compliments of the video cameras and microphones built into the ceiling of the classroom.  It was effectively impossible to get away with any sort of mischief as a result.  So there wasn’t much I could do but at least make it appear that I was giving the lesson my full attention.  We’d have to wait until after school to resume our conversation.


Far too many hours later for my liking, Netty and I were making our way home down the streets of ponyville after school.  The day itself had been largely indistinguishable from any other at school.  The CHEERLI system had droned on through our lessons, we’d taken a brief break for lunch, and then had gone back to more lessons.  We’d do the same thing again tomorrow.  The only thing that made the day even remotely notable had been the conversation that Netty and I had shared during lunch, in which my friend had expressed a desire to stop by a store on the way home and pick up a new dress or two.
This, in and of itself, had not struck me as odd.  Doing a little after school shopping was nothing out of the ordinary, and Netty especially was frequently of a mind to stop off and procure some new article of clothing or jewelry to help further improve her ensemble and make it even darker and more shocking in appearance.  So that her clothing could more closely ‘match the color of my soul’, as she often put it.  Today, however, was apparently going to be quite different.
“...Pretty’N’Pink?” I turned to regard my friend with a raised brow after reading the name of the store which Netty had guided us to.  The words on the sign were painted with various shades of what one might otherwise call ‘pink’, though I inwardly suspected that this was also exactly the kind of store where the proprietor would vehemently insist that each subtle shade had its own unique name and that ‘pink’ was a word which referred to a broad spectrum of colors only.  The font style was also what I would call: ‘aggressively bubbly’.
In other words: this was not the sort of place that Netty would have been caught dead in just a week ago.
“Yep!” The earth pony nodded in confirmation, seeming to be oblivious to my clear bewilderment. “I took a look at my closet this morning and, well, I just didn’t feel like anything in there was ‘me’ anymore.  It was all so dark and depressing.”
“...Yeah.  I always thought that was kind of the point?” I would never claim to be a fashion ‘expert’, by any means; but I did feel like I could recognize the overall intended tone of an outfit.  And it wasn’t like Netty―formally Dead End―had been very subtle about the motivation behind her fashion choices up until this point.
“Maybe, but, like, I’m not depressed; and only wearing one color just feels like it's so expressively limiting, doesn’t it?”
“I mean, maybe?” I shrugged. “Honestly, I always felt like you managed to get a lot of variations out of your outfits.  I remember those colts at the Summer Sun Celebration a few months back thought that the corset you wore was very ‘expressive’...” I side-eyed the mare knowingly.  Then my eyes widened as I watched Netty do something I’d never seen her do before: she blushed.  In embarrassment!
“My parents were not happy about that outfit,” Netty admitted sheepishly. “I also feel a little bad for maybe giving those colts the wrong idea about me.” I felt my mouth go agape in utter shock, and was about to comment further when my friend cleared her throat and trotted into the clothing store, apparently determined to shift the topic of the conversation. “Let’s go see what they have!  I bet we can even find you something cute too!”
I probably spent the better part of a minute staring slack-jawed after my friend.  ‘Something cute’?  She wanted to get me something ‘cute’?  I glanced down at the black leather jacket I was wearing, adorned with faux ‘spikes’ around the collar and shoulders.  On the back of it was a crimson hoof raised in rebellion, encircled by additional red words which read: ‘Rage Against the Elements!’.  It was a custom jacket that had been made by a band several years ago to promote their music.  In fact, their songs and the desire to distribute them to the masses were what had prompted me to start hosting my little ley server.
Like just about every other group who’d ever created authentically good music though, that band had also just sort of…evaporated after a few years.  I think the lead singer did opera in Manehattan now, or something.  As betrayed as I felt by the members of that group apparently turning their back on the message they used to promote, I still wore the jacket.  I wore it to remind myself of their older work.  Of what it meant to truly be your own pony and live your life in a way that brought meaning and happiness to yourself.  To not just be another face in the crowd.
I certainly didn’t wear it to be ‘cute’.
With a heavy sigh and a shake of my head, I trudged into the shop after my friend.  I think I was all ‘surprised out’ by now, because I didn’t even raise my brow when I saw Netty already engaged in a spirited discussion with who I assumed was the proprietor of the shop: a powder-blue pegasus mare with pink eyes and mane, wearing a very predictably-colored dress.  Netty was beaming at the other pony as she clutched a pink dress of her own against her chest, both ponies bouncing excitedly and conversing in what sounded to me like various pitches of ‘squees’ more than actual words.
For my part, I panned my eyes around the store, taking in the racks of dresses and outright gowns that were all the expected hue, and immediately concluded that there was nothing in here that interested me.  So I elected to go sit in a secluded corner of the shop and wait for Netty to make her purchases.
An agonizingly-long hour later, we were back on our way home.  My friend had bought three dresses in total from the shop―one of which she was already wearing―and had already expressed her desire for us to return tomorrow to buy at least two more, providing she could convince her parents to give her an advance on her allowance.  Otherwise, she would either have to wait until next month, or until she could earn some bits of her own by working odd jobs.  I couldn’t even bring myself to give her yet another look of shocked surprise when she broached the topic of taking up foal-sitting to do so.  Netty despised being around foals.  Or, at least, she used to.
Asking her what she’d done with my friend was feeling less and less like a half-hearted joke with every passing hour.  This was not the same pony I’d spoken with when I’d last seen her before the weekend.  That was no more clear than by the topic of conversation she was unilaterally engaged in while we walked.
“―I mean, I realize that Tight End is ‘cute’ in the more traditional sense,” Netty droned on, her cheeks retaining the flushed appearance they’d had since she’d started talking about the colts in our class and debating which she should approach about being her Special Somepony. “And Twilight knows he’s a pony who really lives up to his name―woof!” I was having a really hard time believing that this was a conversation that the two of us were having. “But I just know that Gilded Prose has such a sensitive soul, and that counts just as much as having a flank that looks like it was chiseled out of marble.  Right?” I was internally screaming.
As I desperately sought out some way to eject myself from this conversation that wouldn’t hurt Netty’s feelings―or involve throwing myself in front of an oncoming cart―I found myself saved by Twilight grace, in the form of Netty getting distracted by one of our neighbors. “Ooh!  Speaking of ‘marble flanks’,” the earth pony murmured under her breath as her lip curled into a smile that I could only describe as ‘predatory’, “Hey there, Candy Apple!”  My friend didn’t―quite―purr the colt’s name.  But it was a near thing.
This time I did find myself slowly turning my head to give my friend a very pointed look.  Was she really flirting with Candy?  The pony we both considered an adoptive brother more than a mere neighbor or friend?  Was that a thing that was happening right now?  
Then I shifted my gaze over to the colt in question.  Granted, ‘colt’ was probably not an entirely appropriate classification of the apple-red earth pony any longer.  He was only a couple years older than the two of us, but even I had to acknowledge that Candy Apple was very much now a stallion.  My personal tastes aside, I was also forced to acknowledge that our long-time friend and neighbor was also what one might consider to be ‘classically handsome’.  I could certainly see his likeness not being at all out of place on the cover of one of those romance novels that all inexplicably had the exact same cover…and plot…but still seemed to somehow sell like fresh muffins despite being indistinguishable from each other.  I knew this because my mother owned scores of them.
The stallion paused pulling the mechanical mower he was towing through the front yard of the little townhome he lived in and gave us both a smile and a wave. “Hey there, DN; Boo.  How was school?”  He unhitched himself from the lawnmower and strode up to the fence.  I could spy his sweat-drenched coat glistening in the afternoon sun as he leaned himself carefully upon the simple fence surrounding the yard, quite keenly aware of how large he was and that there was a risk of toppling the little white picket construction if he wasn’t careful.
Both missed my facehoof as Netty sidled up to the other end of the fence, smiling up at the larger earth pony, gaining his undivided attention as she actually batted her eyes at him. “School was fine.  Oh, I go by ‘Netty’ now though.”
“Oh, well I apologize,” the stallion said with a nod of his head and a smile of his own. “‘Netty’ is a very pretty name.  It suits you.”  The mare let out another ‘squee’ that was probably beyond the stallion’s range of hearing, as he didn’t appear to react to it.  Instead he turned to finally look at me. “And I understand that some birthday wishes are in order for you, Boo?”
“Hey, Candy,” I waved anemically at the earth pony, wearing an emotionally exhausted smile of my own. “Thanks.  I’m not making a big deal of it though, so I hope you didn’t get me anything.” The stallion flushed slightly and started rubbing the back of his head while smiling awkwardly.  The reaction left little doubt in my mind that the stallion had, in fact, bought me a present.  With a resigned sigh, I rolled my eyes, though my smile did become a little warmer.  Candy Apple was a good friend.  I wasn’t going to hurt his feelings by turning away a gift. “...Fine, let’s have it.”
“I’ll be right back!” The stallion assured me before he bolted into the house.  He moved pretty fast for such a big pony.
It was only after he left that I noticed that Netty was wearing an expression on her face that was nearly identical to how the recently-departed stallion had looked only a moment ago. “Oh, come on; don’t tell me you bought me a present too?”
“I know you said you didn’t want anything,” the little filly said apologetically, “but you’re my best friend!  I’d buy you something even if it wasn’t your birthday!”
A small laugh escaped from my lips despite my mental exhaustion.  I couldn’t keep a genuinely warm smile off my lips when I saw how eager Netty was looking.  This might have been one of the more trying days I’d ever had with her, but she was still my good friend. “Fine.  Hoof it over; and thank you, Netty.”
I managed to keep the smile firmly in place, even if it did lose a little of its authenticity, when the mare shifted one of the boxes that she was carrying on her back into her hooves and extended it out to me. “Trust me.  This will look amazing on you!”
She’d bought me a dress?  Really?  Managing to keep the smile in place, I graciously accepted the box from the little earth pony and popped it open.  Not that I was under any delusion that it contained anything other than a pink dress.  I just felt compelled to see exactly how far over the deep end Netty must have fallen.  My eyes scanned over the painfully bright pink fabric and baby-blue flowers stitched along the hem of the skirt.  I lingered on the white lace around just about every edge and the shoulders that were so poofy, I wasn’t convinced my head would be visible from the sides while wearing it.  This wasn’t a dress; it was a parody.
Fortunately, Netty must have mistook my expression of horrified shock for mute surprise, because she was once more bouncing excitedly on her hooves. “I know, it’s gorgeous, right?!”
“It’s…something,” I managed to get out eventually. “I…you really shouldn’t have done this, Netty.” I was pretty sure I left my tone ambiguous enough for my friend to take that in a positive way.  The enthusiastic hug she gave me in response suggested I’d been correct.
“I have a dress that matches it,” she announced. “We can be dress buddies!”
Oh, sweet merciful Twilight, please kill me now.
I was saved from having to answer by the return of Candy Apple.  He wasn’t alone either.  I spied a much older earth pony mare also making her way out the front door, though she didn’t travel far.  Instead, the thoroughly wrinkled faded-orange mare made her way stiffly over to a quaint-looking rocking chair and set herself down upon it.  Her emerald eyes, which shone surprisingly brilliantly despite her advanced age, watched the three gathered friends in the yard.  When they locked on me, I found myself briefly taken aback.  I’d known Great Auntie ‘Jack since I was a foal.  I don’t think there was a single pony in all of Ponyville who didn’t know her.
Technically, she was actually Candy’s great great aunt, but that was a bit of a mouthful, so everypony just dropped one of the ‘greats’.  I forgot how old she was exactly, but the word ‘ancient’ wouldn’t have been an entirely inappropriate adjective, I felt.  I knew she’d outlived every other one of her siblings, as well as her nieces and nephews.  Still, in all the time I’d known her, she’d always tended to be pretty upbeat and energetic―for her age, anyway.  She certainly always had a positive outlook on life.
Today though, I spied what I could have sworn was…regret?.  Some variety of sorrow was visible in her gaze, at any rate.  You might have thought she was watching a funeral rather than friends exchanging presents.  Unless I was just misreading things.  Which was possible, I guess.  It was apparent that I’d been grossly misreading one of my closest friends for the longest time, it seemed…
Candy Apple extended his hoof, offering me a small little yellow box.  Curiously, I lifted it in my magic and opened it with a level of genuine eagerness.  At least I knew this couldn’t be another dress.  Though I wouldn’t have been far off if I’d guessed that.  The gift turned out to be garment-adjacent, at any rate.
I lifted out the strips of ribbon from the box.  There were three of them: red, blue, and yellow.  I raised a quizzical brow at the stallion.  In response, the crimson stallion looked a little abashed as he stuttered his way through an explanation of his gift. “W-well, you see, I didn’t exactly know what you’d like, so I asked my cousins.  They said that every mare likes wearing ribbons in her mane when she grows up.  So…ribbons.”
I withheld any comment I might have made in haste regarding the assumed fashion choices of mares when I recalled that, indeed, a lot of his cousins on his other double-great aunt’s side did indeed wear ribbons in their manes.  It was almost a familial-specific fashion trend, it felt like.  I wasn’t going to fault a stallion for seeking advice on shopping for fillies from fillies he knew best.  And while I couldn’t see myself tying my own short-cropped and already dyed mane back with colorful ribbons, it did give me an idea.
With a more genuine smile on my face than I expected I’d have had a minute ago, I used my magic to take the red ribbon and wrapped it around the upper part of my right foreleg.  I recalled seeing pictures of some band members from Rise Against the Elements wearing similar leg-bands during their performances.  The color also very closely matched the emblem on my jacket.
I then turned my smile to Candy Apple. “Thanks, Candy.  It’s a lovely gift,” I assured him, turning slightly to offer a better view of how I’d already incorporated it.  The stallion seemed quite relieved that he’d selected an appropriate gift.  
Meanwhile, Netty was holding up the yellow one and laying it by the dress she’d purchased for me. “And these colors go so well together!  It’s perfect!”  I tried not to stare too hard at my filly friend.  When did she acquire an eye for color coordination?
“They sure might!” Was all I trusted myself to say on the matter.  I cleared my throat and quickly resealed both the box with the dress as well as the remaining ribbons, shifting them to my back for transport. “Well, thank you both for the presents, they’re lovely.  But I should really be getting home for dinner.  I’ll see both of you later, okay?”
Netty gave me another tight hug, still beaming at me. “I’ve got to get home so we can attend the recital.  Happy birthday, Boo.  See you tomorrow at school!” She waved at me and then looked over to Candy Apple. “...I’ll be seeing you around too.” Netty eyes wandered quite a fair bit before she turned and finally left.  And…had she growled or had I imagined that?
The stallion just sort of awkwardly waved as the off-white earth pony walked away with a swish in her tail that I’d never seen her have before.  “Bye, Netty…” The pair of us exchange glances, along with shrugs. “Happy birthday, Boo.  I don’t know what your folks are doing for it or whatever, but Auntie Applejack has a pie in the oven for you.  Swing on by if you want a slice.”
A warm smile touched my lips, and I admit that I had to swallow back a bit of drool at the thought of one of Candy’s great aunt’s famous pies.  While he hadn’t specified what kind of pie it was, he didn’t need to.  Anyone who knew the mare knew she only made apple-related desserts.  She also made them well.  “I’ll absolutely be doing that.” I looked past the stallion to the orange mare in question. “Thanks, Great Auntie ‘Jack!” She nodded in response, and though I saw her smile, her eyes still seemed to retain that somber look to them.  I felt my own expression start to slip in response.
“Well, best get back to mowing.  Lawns don’t cut themselves!” Candy paused in thought. “Well, I suppose some of those modern ones do, but Grandpa Mac never cared for them while he was around, and neither does Auntie Applejack.” A smile tugged at his lips. “Dad cares a little bit less now that I’m the one mowing it.” He glanced around briefly back at the older mare before leaning over the fence to share a conspiratorial whisper. “...I’m going to have one put in when this becomes my place though.” He winked at me.
I let out a snort and a short laugh. “We have one; they’re pretty neat, yeah.  See you around, Candy.”
With parting waves, the two of us moved on in our respective directions.  I only had to go two townhouses down to arrive at the one my family lived in.  Aside from the number above the front door, it was identical to all of the other townhomes that made up Sweet Apple Estates.  I walked through the small front lawn which looked to have very recently magically trimmed itself down at an ideal uniform height.  I didn’t bother to knock as I made my way inside.
“Mom, Dad, I’m home!” I announced.  Seemingly unnecessary, as it turned out that both of my parents were waiting for me in the living room which the front door opened up into.  While it became immediately obvious that they’d elected to ignore my wishes to not observe my birthday, just as Netty’s had, I was at least relieved to see that they hadn’t arranged for a full-blown party.  Indeed, they’d appeared to keep things as ‘low key’ as could reasonably be expected.
The far wall contained a colorful banner which read: ‘Happy 16th Birthday Boolean Value!’  Both of my parents were sitting on the floor wearing shiny foil party hats just behind a coffee table which contained a modestly-sized birthday cake bearing lit candles.  My father’s sunflower-yellow horn ignited as he floated over a third cone hat, this one bearing the number ‘16’ emblazoned on it, and slipped it over my head.  I let out a small sigh, but couldn’t keep the smile off my face all the same.  I supposed that I could tolerate this modicum of embarrassment for a little while before hiding myself in my room and checking on my ley server traffic.
“Happy Birthday, sweetie!” the thundercloud-gray pegasus mare proclaimed in an excited tone.
My father joined in, holding up his hooves in mock surrender. “Now, we know you said you didn’t want a party this year, but―”
“Relax, Dad.” I waved away the apology even as I walked over to join my parents around the cake. “I suppose that I can deal with a ‘lame party’ if it’s just the three of us…”
My mother briefly fluttered through the air to land beside me and took me up into a hug. “Thanks, sweetie,” she said before planting a kiss on my cheek as I tried―and failed―to not roll my eyes. “Also, we hope that you don’t mind us getting you a gift too…” She nodded her head towards my father, who I now saw was floating a box in his telekinesis that was enclosed in brightly-colored paper decorated with balloons and confetti.
Even before I unwrapped it, I felt my eyes growing large in wonder.  I knew what it was simply from the size of the box.  Twilight knew I’d stared at the boxes like it on display at the FlimFlamMart in town often enough to have memorized the dimensions.  I nearly lost focus on my own telekinesis as I took the present in my magic and started unwrapping it.  Sure enough, the package was exactly what I’d thought it was:
The new 4th Generation AetherRig.  Wasn’t Netty going to be surprised that our parents thought so much alike!
I threw my hooves around my mother and then my father. “Omygosh!  You guys are the fucking best!  This is amazing!”
“Language, dear,” my father chuckled into my neck as he held me.


Despite what the banner and cake might have suggested, the ‘party’ ended up feeling no different from any other family dinner, which was perfectly fine by me.  If anything, that made it even better in my book.  The biggest difference was that we got to eat some cake before having dinner―for which my father had prepared my favorite: his neighborhood-renowned oatloaf!  Taking that all into account, it was really hard to imagine a better way to cap off the day.
Which was good, because I didn’t have to imagine.  I’d already been promised some of the best-tasting apple pie this side of Canterlot!  Once dinner had been cleared from the table, I excused myself from the house and gleefully trotted outside.  The sun had recently set, and the stars were just starting to make their appearance in the sky on a wonderfully clear night.
It didn’t look like Great Auntie ‘Jack had moved since I’d last seen her, but I noticed that there was a pie sitting on a little table next to her rocking chair, and neither had been there when I was by earlier.  Her emerald gaze locked onto me and the old withered mare waved in greeting.  I waved back, if a bit more hesitantly.  It really did have to be my imagination, I felt; because the old mare still looked sad for some reason.  Which obviously made no sense.
Her voice was at least undeniably warm and inviting. “C’mon up ‘ere, sugarcube.  Have yerself some birthday pie.” She gestured to the nearby desert which still had visible tendrils of steam wafting off of its surface, suggesting it was as fresh as one could want.  I saw her eyes briefly look me over, a hint of wariness hidden deep within them. “Did you get any good presents this year?”
I was just about to sink my teeth into the offered pie when I pulled up short to answer the elder mare’s question. “Oh, yeah!  My parents bought me the new AetherRig!  That thing is totally awesome!  Gigarune bandwidth, the latest processor from AMP―Total.  Sensory.  Immersion.  You won’t just trot the Aether, you’ll live it!” Okay, so maybe that last bit was stolen from the advertising material, but from everything I’d heard, it was an entirely accurate description.
The old earth pony mare nodded along, though I suspected that she was simply acknowledging that I was excited about it, and didn’t appreciate what I was saying.  Her generation didn’t tend to understand technology like mine or my parents’ did.  I wasn’t even sure they had computers back when Great Auntie Jack was my age, let alone the Aether.  She side-eyed me as she asked her next tentative question. “...Did you try it out yet?”
“No, not yet,” I admitted. “I just finished dinner and wanted to come by here before I tried it.” I offered the older mare a wry smile. “It’s so cool I’m pretty sure I won’t want to take it off the rest of the night once I put it on.” Though I knew my parents were nowhere nearby, I still made a show of looking around to ensure I wouldn’t be overheard before leaning in as if to share a secret with the mare. “I’ll probably pull an all-nighter,” I admitted with a wide grin.
Again the older pony nodded in a show of understanding.  And again it felt like she was simply paying lip-service.  I chalked it up to her simply being an old pony with her own ideas about the world and finally took a bite of the pie she’d made for me.  Now, I knew nothing about sex, except that it was purported to be very enjoyable.  All the same, in that moment, it was cemented in my mind that no matter how good it might turn out to be, I knew that there would never be any act of physical intimacy that would ever surpass the memory of my enjoyment of this pie.  It was transcendent.
“...Ponies should alway be able to do what they love fer as long as they wanna,” the older mare said cryptically as she stared out across the yard. “Shouldn’t matter a lick what they find fun,” she continued. “Shouldn’t be a line between ‘foalish’ and ‘adult’.  Shouldn’t be a ‘right’ way to be a pony.
“Bein’ any way other’n whatcha wanted to be…well, it’s just dishonest…” She let out a said sigh and shook her head.  Her eyes briefly fell on me again before she turned her head to the north.  It might have been a coincidence, but I was pretty sure that she was looking in the direction of Canterlot.
“Don’t mind me, sugarcube.  Ah’m just an old pony spoutin’ off.  World moved on.  I didn’t.  No more to it than that.”
I swallowed my second mouthful and wiped my lips with the back of my hoof. “I bet things were a lot different when you were my age, huh?”
This question earned me the most genuine laugh I’d heard from the mare all evening, one that was potent enough to send the old earth pony into a fit of coughs so powerful I was briefly terrified that I might kill the ancient mare.  Fortunately, I did not become indirectly responsible for the death of Candy Apple’s venerable family member. “Filly…truer words ain’t been uttered!” Now it was her turn to favor me with a conspiratorial look. “I’ve seen things, sugar.  Oh, Ah’ve seen things!
“When I was yer age, t’weren’t even a hundred ponies livin’ in Ponyville.  Half the houses had thatch roofs!”  She waved her hoof as if to encompass the whole neighborhood. “This was all apple orchard―my apple orchard.  Sweet Apple Acres, it was called.” Now her expression turned bitter, her lips pulling into a thing line. “‘Afore Candy’s granpap sold it all.”
“Why’d he sell it?” I asked before descending for another bite.  The cantankerous old mare was full of all sorts of stories.  I assumed most were greatly exaggerated though, given how outrageous they sounded.  I mean, she’d once claimed to help defeat a ‘centaur’ sorcerer, or whatever.  What even was a centaur?  Still, true or not, her stories were always entertaining.
“Ehh, he said that the orchard weren’t ‘profitable enough’.  We couldn’t ‘compete’ with the bigger farmin’ conglomer-whatsits that were formin’ out west, Appaloosa way.” The old mare said with a dismissive wave of her hoof and a derisive snort. “Ah tol’im it t’weren’t about profits, it was about bein’ a part of the community!  Hostin’ Nightmare Night wagon rides, and corn mazes.  Sellin’ zap-apple jam.  Everypony linin’ up for the openin’ day o’ cider season!”
With every sentence, the old orange mare was getting herself more and more worked up.  I stared at her with wide eyes, a little worried she was going to stroke herself out if she got any more so.  Fortunately for her health, the earth pony appeared to have reached the peak of her little crescendo, and then deflated in her rocking chair.
“...Apple Cider didn’t much care though.  Went off to one o’ them high-falutin Manehattan universities, got wrapped around the hoof of some Diamond Tiara-type filly who measured a ponies value in bits over all else.” I didn’t know what ‘Diamond Tiara-type’ meant exactly, as that wasn’t an expression I’d ever heard before, but I was able to piece things together from context. “Figured out that he could sell the orchard to some real-estate-tychoon type pony.  Made a fortune.”
The mare let out another deep sigh. “At least Big Mac taught his colt to do right by family.” She waved her hoof at the surrounding houses. “Cider made sure part of the deal included us all having our own places, free an’ clear, in whatever community they built up.  Celestia knows his griffon-of-a-wife went out of her way to spend every bit they made off the sale,” she all but snarled under her breath, “but at least that bitch couldn’t leave us out in the cold.”
There was an uncomfortable silence that followed where I was afraid to so much as chew, lest I draw the old mare’s attention.  Had my mouth not been full of delicious pie, I’d have let it hang open in shock.  I’d just heard an adult swear.  Adults never swore.  At least, I’d never heard them do it where I could hear.  I’d certainly been chastised for doing it enough times too.
Eventually, I was forced to swallow what was in my mouth, and did so significantly more loudly than I’d intended.
Seemingly reminded of my presence by the loud ‘gulp’ I’d just made, and now aware of how angry she’d gotten, Great Auntie ‘Jack glanced in my direction and cleared her throat. “Sorry, sugar.  Like Ah said: jus’ an old pony spoutin’ off.  Don’t pay me no mind.” Her eyes drifted to the pie tin which now contained only a crumb or two I hadn’t gotten around to licking up.  A fresh smile touched her lips and I saw a little more joy return to her eyes.  Then she looked at me again and I saw that renewed light dim, if only slightly.  My own features faltered in response.
“You, uh…you should get on home, sugarcube.  It’s gettin’ late.”
“Yeah.  Sure,” I said hesitantly, not sure if I’d done anything to upset the mare.  I didn’t think so though.  She was probably just still feeling a little tense after dredging up all those memories.  “I’ll see you later, Great Auntie ‘Jack.”
“See you later, sug’.” I turned to leave, but only made it a step down the stoop before I heard her address me again, and I paused to look back. “Jus’ you don’t…” Her eyes once more flickered briefly back north.  For the briefest of moments, I saw her brows crease in what almost looked like determination…and then this look of hopelessness seemed to wash over her features and the old mare slumped back against her chair, as if thoroughly exhausted.  She shook her head. When she lifted it again to look at me, she was wearing a smile again, but it felt like such a hollow thing now for some reason. “Don’t tell yer folks I said that ‘B’-word.  ‘K, sugarcube?”
I shakily nodded my head and did my best to muster up a smile for the older earth pony.  I knew that something was off, and that wasn’t what she’d wanted to tell me, but that didn’t mean I had any clue what she really had wanted to say.  It was weirding me out a little though.  Maybe it was just an ‘old pony thing’? “Don’t worry; your secret’s safe with me!” I trotted the rest of the way down the porch and back home, doing me best to brush off the disquieting feeling those last couple sentences had left me with.
Which became much easier to do when I slipped back in through the front door of my own house and saw the box with my new AetherRig sitting on the coffee table next to the remains of my birthday cake.  A broad grin spread across my face as I used my magic to pick up the birthday gift.  Worries: forgotten!
“Goodnight, Mom and Dad!” I called out into the house as I cantered upstairs to my room.  I didn’t even wait for a response before I slammed the door.
My magic eviscerated the packaging of the new AetherRig, quickly leaving me holding the crescent-shaped bone-white device hovering in front of me in my telekinetic grasp.  I discarded the manual with barely a thought.  I’d already made myself completely familiar with the device’s functions and operation via the company’s literature on the leynet.  I knew exactly what to do.
I plopped myself down in front of the custom terminal that I’d spent the last few years assembling and casually disconnected and tossed away my existing AetherRig.  I was excitedly tapping my forehooves together, grinning like a filly who’d just gotten her cutie mark as I hooked up my new rig.  In the back of my mind, I knew it was highly unlikely that the rig would work right out of the box.  Nothing ever really did.  So I was tempering my expectations at least a little.
Sure enough, once the device powered up and my terminal confirmed that it could detect the new AetherRig, I was prompted to download and install a whole suite of software and updates.  Knowing this would almost certainly be the case did little to keep me from uttering a frustrated sigh as I acknowledged the request and initiated the updates.  While, intellectually, I knew that waiting just a couple of minutes for the setup process to complete was leaps and bounds better than what my parents had probably had to put up with a couple decades ago with the technology available back then, I still found the wait emotionally taxing in the moment.
The little chime announcing the completion of the setup couldn’t have come fast enough. “Finally!” I made myself comfortable and slipped the device over my eyes prior to initializing it.  Another broad grin was pushing the limits of what my cheeks could accommodate as the GlimmerSoft logo appeared and thanked me for purchasing their new generation AetherRig. “Thank my parents; let’s get a move on!”
I unleashed another frustrated groan when I was immediately prompted to enter my birth date.  These little hurdles were getting quite tedious.  I deftly filled in the field with the date requested.  “Huh.  Well, that’s pretty neat!” I announced to myself as the device congratulated me on celebrating my sixteenth birthday.  Little personal touched like that were pretty cool, I had to admit.
What was less cool was the alert immediately following the well-wishes announcing that an additional update package needed to be downloaded and integrated before the device would function properly. “But I just updated you!” I all but seethed even as I confirmed the download. “What a fucking tease…”
I let out a resigned sigh as I watched yet another progress bar appear in front of me and begin to fill, absently watching the string of file names flicker by almost too fast to read.  Most ponies probably wouldn’t have understood any of this, but I was pretty well versed in arcanetic sciences as a result of years of self-education in order to set up and run my own private server.  So a few rather interesting lines caught my eye.
I cocked my head in confusion. “Reformation dot ess-pee-ell?  Did somepony fat-hoof ‘reformating’ while writing the file names?” I mused idly. “Even if that was the case though, a process like that wouldn’t be an SPL file, it would be a cantrip…I’ll dig through some of the file directories later and see what’s going on.” I shrugged off the curiosity and waited for the last update to finish.
The last few files were installed in no time and the smile returned to my face as the progress bar finally vanished and was replaced by the interface.  Before I could actually do anything though, a spell auto-cast itself and my world was consumed by a flash of blinding purple light…


…I awoke with a startled jerk to the sound of my alarm going off.  I looked around in confusion for a few seconds, wondering why my alarm was going off when it was still dark outside.  Then I sheepishly realized that I was still wearing my new AetherRig and that it had apparently powered itself off.  Likely due to prolonged inactivity on my part, since I had apparently passed out in front of my terminal again.
I frowned at the realization.  I should really work on taking better care of myself than that.  Getting enough sleep was very important, especially for a young filly like myself.  Though that sleep was also more beneficial if I actually did it in my bed, and not on the cushion in front of my terminal.  I’d have to try and do better about that in the future.
A glance at the time on my clock evoked a grimace as I realized that I hadn’t left myself a great deal of time to prepare for school.  I slipped out of my jacket―noting that it smelled just a little on the riper side of things as it came off―and zipped over to the shower.  I made a note to ask Mom to pick me up some mane conditioner the next time she went shopping.  The shampoo alone wasn’t really going to cut it if I ever wanted to style my mane a little better than it was.  Sure keeping it unstyled was lower-maintenance, but it showed a decidedly poor level of self-care.  I should always be striving to put my best self forward.
I was still vigorously drying myself off as I returned to my room to finish getting ready for school. “Owlicious, play some music, please,” I directed our home’s digital assistant.  A moment later, my ears were outright assaulted by a cacophony of sound that didn’t sound very ‘musical’ at all.  It was just a bunch of colts screaming and whining about how angsty they were. “Oh, my!  Owlicious, delete from playlist.  Next song, please.”
The computer complied and the ravaging of my ears halted abruptly.
…Only to resume once more, except that it was a group of fillies shouting about how much they seemed to hate everything about their lives.  Once more I winced and called out. “Owlicious, delete from playlist!” The noise ended and I was once more rewarded with blessed silence.  Taking a cleansing breath, I decided to try once more. “Owlicious, stream something from the local pop-radio channels, please?”
I winced in anticipation of further bedlam as I heard the acknowledging shirt a third time.  However, a moment later I found myself pleasantly surprised by the soft sounds of violins and cellos drifting down from the overhead speakers.  I could even hear a harp, too.  This…this was very nice. “Owlicious, what band is this?”
“ARIA MELODY’S ORCHESTRA,” the computer informed me.
“I like it.  Replace my existing playlist with this artist and similar musicians as recommended by listeners.” I nodded when I heard the chirp and resumed preparing for school.
I wrinkled my nose at the leather jacket on the floor where I’d left it.  Even if it didn’t already need a thorough cleaning…it didn’t feel very appealing to me at the moment as a choice of attire for school.  Maybe if I was out and about in town with friends…?  Eh, but even then I knew it might give others the wrong idea.  Especially since I didn’t feel like ‘raging’ against anything in particular.  In any case, I knew it wasn’t ‘school appropriate’.  So I tossed it in the laundry basket and headed to my closet.
Honestly, I didn’t find all that much that I liked in there either.  If it wasn’t garishly colored, it was simply dark and depressing.  Hardly anything of substantial color was available.  Then I recalled the gift that Netty had given me yesterday for my birthday.  I retrieved the box and opened it up.  Yes!  This would be perfect!  I quickly threw the dress on, noting that it fit me almost perfectly, and finished off the ensemble with the yellow piece of ribbon that my friend had recommended I use with it.  She had a good eye for color, I agreed as I evaluated myself in the mirror.
I looked again at my clock and noted that I didn’t have much time left if I was going to meet Netty and walk with her to school and not have us both be late.  I tossed my books into my saddlebags and galloped out of my room. “Bye, Mom!  Bye, Dad!  Off to school; love you!” I called out as I ran out the door.
Sure enough, Netty was outside our yard waiting for me, wearing the other new dress that she’d bought yesterday.  I saw her face break out into a broad grin as she recognized that I was wearing her gift as well.  The excited mare was bouncing gingerly on the tips of her hooves as I trotted up to her.  I felt myself overcome with the same glee and couldn’t help but join in her merry bouncing.
“Dress Buddies!” She squealed.
“Dress Buddies!” I cried out at an equally high pitch before the two of us descended into fits of mirthful laughter.  “This is so awesome!”
“I know, right?  It’s the best.  Come on, let’s go!”  She turned and started walking towards the schoolhouse.  I strode beside her.  “How about some tunes while we walk?” she asked.
“Sounds great,” I nodded. “Ooh!  I found this great new artist today: Aria Melody?”
“Oh, I love her!  I downloaded all her albums!” Netty tittered as she hastily brought up her library of music and began to play us something.  It began playing just as we trotted past Candy Apple’s house.  The large stallion was currently up a ladder cleaning out the gutters of the town home.  His great-great-aunt was sitting in her chair still.  I idly wondered if she’d even gone back inside last night.  Surely she had.
“Hi there, Candy!” I called out, waving my hoof.  My gaze wandered a bit along his toned body as the stallion reacted to our presence.  He was certainly a fine looking stallion, I noted…
“Hi, girls!” He replied, smiling back at us.  Then his head tilted slightly, his ear twitching. “Is that Aria, I hear?  She’s a really great artist!”
“We were just talking about her,” Netty nodded. “We’ll have to stop by after school and exchange music recommendations.”
“Sounds good to me,” the stallion nodded. “Nice dresses by the way.”
“Thanks!” We both managed to say in chorus.  We exchanged mildly shocked looks at the unplanned harmony and started giggling. “See you later, Candy!” I waved and the pair of us resumed walking.
There was a slight stutter in my step though, as I caught the look of the aged orange mare sitting in her rocking chair.  She looked…just so sad for some reason.  I couldn’t imagine why though.  It was a lovely day out.  Maybe it was because I hadn’t greeted her?  Oh, that must have been it!
“Good morning, Great Auntie Applejack!  It’s nice to see you again!” I called out. “Thank you again for that amazing pie last night!”
The older mare’s lips tugged into a near facsimile of a smile, though it was clear that there existed no real joy behind it.  She did return my wave though. “Good morning, girls.  Have a good day.”
I nodded, satisfied that I’d corrected my earlier oversight, and resumed trotting after my friend.  Just audible on the wind though, I could swear that I’d heard the wrinkled mare add: “...and I’m so sorry…”
It must have just been my imagination though.  Because I couldn’t for the life of me imagine what there could possibly be for her to feel sorry for.  Everything was just so amazing today!
“We’re totally stopping by that dress shop again today,” I informed Netty. “I need to replace just about everything in my wardrobe…”