//------------------------------// // 152 Mare at Work // Story: Tales from a Con // by Admiral Biscuit //------------------------------// Mare at Work Some would say that Equestria is a fantastic, magical place, and they’re not wrong. It’s a society of magical ponies—the three tribes, of course, and other creatures who live with them. Now that Princess Twilight Sparkle’s School of Friendship has really gotten going, there are more of those other creatures who call Equestria their home. The Equestrian Tourism Board uses that to their advantage. In reality, ponies and other creatures exist beyond the pictures and paintings featured in glossy brochures. There are the tourists who bring in their currency (converted to bits) and spend it locally . . . behind that are the locals, the ones who make everything go. Some of them are there to serve, directly or indirectly, and others are just doing the jobs that need doing, practically unnoticed in the hustle and bustle of society. You’ve never really given much thought to decorative fountains. They’re pretty, but also sort of a background feature. Sometimes they’re all artificial, and the bottoms of their pool are littered with coins, soggy donations to charity. Other times fountains are added to a natural water feature; improving a pond by making some of its water shoot skyward and then rain back down again. Usually, they just work. Sometimes they don’t. A pond with an inoperative fountain is just a pond; an artificial pool could have its own aesthetics as well, although a “Fountain Out Of Order” sign doesn’t really help you appreciate them. Point is you’ve seen fountains and you’ve seen broken fountains, but you’ve never seen a fountain in the process of being repaired, as this one is. Turns out fountain maintenance is its own draw; you’re not the only one watching as a brown-furred unicorn works on its mechanism. She’s standing fetlock-deep in the coin-littered water, her muzzle deep in an access panel. Besides the obligatory sign indicating that the fountain is currently out of order, there’s a wagon parked besides the water. Silver Spanner Plumbing is written on the side in decorative gilt letters, framed in with delicate pinstripes. On the front, the tongue lies slack on the ground; on the rear, the tailboard is also down, revealing lengths of iron and copper pipe in various diameters. Wooden toolboxes are slung under the wagon, their doors also open. All the tools are neatly arranged on pegs. You watch as her horn lights and a silvery-white aura surrounds a pipe wrench. A moment later, it flies out of the toolbox and across the stilled fountain, and then it vanishes inside the deep recesses of the fountain access hatch. An ear-pinning screech of protesting metal arises, and then settles down into a reluctant squeal which tapers off to near silence. A moment later a rusty iron coupling finds itself floated across the placid waters and into the bed of the wagon. She shifts around, and you can see her aura reaching out as it grabs a similar new fitting. You can’t see what she’s doing, but she’s clearly a pro, she’s clearly done this before. The wrench comes back, and at the same time a short length of pipe lifts off the wagon, bound for the dark hole she’s got her head stuck in. It collides with the wrench in the air, knocking it into the fountain. The pipe wrench makes less of a splash than you’d have imagined as it joins all the low-value coins scattered around. The ripples spread out, making it waver where it landed. You know where it should go; you saw her pick it out of its appointed spot, and you could reach it without even wading into the fountain. CHOICE Should you pick up the wrench or put something in its place? >pick up the wrench and put it where it belongs (Hero) >put something else where the wrench should be (Chaos) >steal the wrench, you can use it (Villain) [ENDING A: HERO] You didn’t see her ears turn; she probably has no idea her wrench has fallen. You can already imagine her reaching with her horn to gather it again, and not finding it. You’ve been there before, feeling around for something that you know where it should be and finding nothing. There’s still a moment of hesitation as you reach into the placid waters of the fountain; what if a cop were to come by and think you were trying to steal bits out of the water? Being helpful, even if unknown and unseen, wins out. You reach into the water and grab out the wrench. It’s heavier than you expected. You shake off as much water as you can and then hang it back on its hook. A moment later, her magic reaches out again, surrounding the wrench, and it flies back to her. [ENDING B: CHAOS] You’ve seen unicorns at work and you know how their fields ‘feel’ things. That used pipe that she just dropped in the wagon looks like it’s about the same weight as her pipe wrench. Is it mean to mess with a mare at work? Probably. But it’ll be funny.  You reach into her wagon and grab the short length of used pipe, then slide it over the peg. It’s a little too long, and the peg droops down as it accepts the weight. You shove it into the backboard then step back—just in time; you see her aura light up the pegboard, reaching for where the wrench’s handle should be, then move up until it surrounds the used pipe. You watch with amusement as it crosses the now-stilled water and vanishes into the darkness behind the access hatch. A moment later: “What the hay?” There’s a very distinct clatter as she drops the pipe and then pulls her head out of the hole, looking for her lost wrench. She probably can’t see it through the water. [ENDING C: VILLAIN] She’s got her attention focused on the plumbing, and while you weren’t planning on stealing her wrench, you just do. It’s a nice wrench, it’s got a nice heft to it. The kind of thing that costs a pretty penny at the hardware store, the kind of thing which would look right at home on your pegboard. Sure, you might feel a few moments of guilt when you use it, but after a while you’ll just get used to it. How much could she care for her wrench if she let it fall in the water, if she didn’t keep her eyes on it? Your opportunistic theft would have gone off better if the wrench could slip neatly in your pocket. Unseen, unknown—but you keep it close to your side, and just casually walk off. Nothing to see here. By the time you round the corner, you realize that you’ve committed the perfect crime. Ponies are such rubes, leaving tools and stuff out where anybody could take them. You’re not to blame at all, if you hadn’t taken her wrench somebody else would have.