A cold smokey gust of wind blew across the front gates of the factory. It's large doors glared ominously out onto the street, framed by the mossy marbled walls that stretched around the property. Shadows seemed to stretch unnaturally across the oak, interrupted only by the brass hinges that held them place. As the sun rose over the city of Manehattan, it's rays stretched through the smog, piercing the darkness and leaving small emblems of warmth that slowly made their way across the streets. With a brilliant flash of yellow, the rays hit the doorway of the factory, reflecting off the two vintage worn silver letters that had been hammered into the oak.
O.O., an insignia that meant the world to a scarce few, and utterly nothing to many. Few knew the names of the wealthy family that ran the Orange Incorporated plant. But many knew what the company produced. Every product, from it's prolific perfumes and potpourri, to it's canned drinks and foods, every item that exited the plant was made from bits and pieces of oranges. Behind the plant sat a small orchard, abundant in the yellow spheres that gleamed in the sunlight. Far larger than any natural oranges, from decades of cross-breeding various sub-varieties and chemical treatments. The fruit was as beautiful as it was false, happily soaking up the minerals from the soil and fluids that the workers doused them with every day. A steel and glass dome covering them enclosure, shielding the workers and fruit from the filth, smog, and weather. It reeked of the smell of juice. You could be miles away from it and still smell it. In small amounts it was pleasant, as any fruity smell is. But once inside the plant, the scent became powerful and near unbearable, as Rarity would soon learn.
The white unicorn had snuck out her hotel room that morning, leaving behind a small note full of lies and a kiss on the cheek for her sleeping friend before departing. She stood in front of the plant, watching the workers slowly file in from the employee entrance, all wearing orange jumpsuits with nametags. She breathed in, enjoying the smell of the fruit before finally striding forward to the gate. She was going to solve this mystery today, even if it meant going inside a filthy fruit factory.
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Within an hour Rarity found herself sitting in a small round office on the top floor of the factory. She sat on an old couch in her favorite blue argyle sweater, dark shades, and winter's cap, hoping it would lend her an air of professionalism with whomever she was about to speak to. She glanced around the room. Old brown walls with paisley patterns in what at one time might have been red wallpaper. Wooden filing cabinets, briefcases, shelves upon shelves of books and an electric fan, continuously blowing warm air around the dusty humid room. A large dark pine desk sat in the center with a small plaque that simply said "Pres. O.O." in chiseled print. On the desk sat two stacks of paperwork, both of which had clearly gone untouched in some time, with thin layers of dust blanketing them. Several tiny black and white photos in plastic frames sat on a corner of one of the shelves. Rarity squinted and hopped off her seat to get a closer look. There were quite a few ponies she didn't recognize. But one photo in the back caused her to raise her eyebrows in surprise. It depicted a young Granny Smith, her hair braided, standing in front of a barn with a young couple. In the arms of the mother was a small bundle. A tiny baby foal, with a dark coat. This must have been Big Macintosh when he was a baby. How strange to see the parents of this family. Or to see Big Macintosh when he was not so big. Even stranger to see a young Granny Smith. Even in her younger years, there was still that playful mischievous look in her eyes.
"Can I help you miss?" came a clear and weary voice from the other door, swinging open to reveal a light yellow stallion.
Long in the neck and legs with a cutie mark of an orange on his flank. About his chest was a brown buttoned coat, complete with a black and red houndstooth tie that, despite his height, was far too long and slid on the ground as he walked in. His mane and tail were a dull green, streaked with bits of grey that fell off in strands over his face. His large blue eyes were also flecked with bits of grey, large wrinkles streaking out from under his thick brows. He walked over to where Rarity stood at the shelf.
"I heard a friend of the family had arrived. Looking at Macintosh I see, so I assume you're a comrade of his? A ladyfriend perhaps?"
Rarity smiled sweetly and gave a small bow. "I was not aware you and he were related, sir. I know him from Ponyville."
"He's my nephew. Haven't seen him in almost two decades now. Last I laid eyes on him, he was a still a little colt. Barely strong enough to walk."
"Well he's quite the man now. I'm no ladyfriend but I am a friend. However I'm actually here for a more serious matter involving a different member of your family."
The stallion's face fell and his eyes grew grave. He gulped audibly. "I knew this day would come, soon. Did she pass peacefully?"
"Did who? Oh my goodness! No, sir, Mrs.Smith is just fine in her old age. Healthy as a....er....horse. I get the feeling she's going to outlive us all."
"Oh thank goodness." the yellow stallion breathed a sigh of relief, dapping his neck with a kerchief. He reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a small bottle of orange whiskey, taking a quick swig. He turned and sat in the large cushioned chair near the desk, placing the bottle back into his pocket. "Please, do have a seat Miss....um....I don't believe I got your name."
"You may call me Rarity, Mr.Orange." Rarity replied, wrinkling her nose at the smell of strong alcohol as she returned to her seat.
"Please, call me Opal. I'm curious are you the same Rarity who is head of the Carousel clothing line?"
"Why, yes! I am actually! I'm surprised you've heard of me."
"My wife has fine taste in fashion. You're one of Irma's favorite designers."
"I'm flattered!"
"Think nothing of it. Now if we could perhaps get to the matter at hand. You've come a long way to meet me in person. Ponyville is quite a journey." His expression of politeness melted away to one of curiosity as he leaned eagerly over the desk, resting his head on his hooves.
"Well, I'm here in town with a member of your family, actually." Rarity began. "Your niece, Applejack."
The stallion's eyes glazed over for a moment as an unreadable expression passed over him. "Applejack? Now that's a name I haven't heard in some time. Why are you two in Manehattan?"
"Well I recently discovered that Applejack has quite a bit of talent painting. We're having an auction in two and a half days."
"Painting....." Opal whispered to himself, his eyes glazing over again. "Painting? Figures. Who would have thought it'd be that? Little miracles."
"Anyway!" Rarity continued, interrupting his thoughts. "I noticed that Applejack seems to act very strangely in this city. Everything seems to make her nervous. She's constantly on pins and needles. We were down at a small hangout that's a particular favorite of mine and I caught her just sort of staring....at this factory of yours."
"She was our treasure, you know." the yellow stallion began, seemingly unfazed by Rarity's words. "We tried so hard to make her a perfect little lady, you know. Teach her how to be civil. Brighten her horizons. She was like a course gem, that we tried polishing. So many times."
"She lived with you?"
"Oh yes. For quite a while. I remember it'd been a year since my sister and her husband had left us. It was dark times. Then we hear a knock one evening and there she was. She'd walked all the way from Ponyville to our home. 'Could I stay with yew? And learn tah be a fanshy pony?' she'd asked us. Still remember it clear as day. Her little hick drawl with her voice. Those innocent bright green eyes."
"Things went....well?" Rarity asked as the stallion grew silent.
He leaned back to look at the ceiling. Reaching into his pocket to take another swig from his bottle. "There was progress. We wanted her to be a real Manehattanite. Just like me and the wife. It broke our hearts when she ran off."
"She ran away?"
"Yes. Decided she was too good for the Manehattan lifestyle, I suppose. Got hurt on the way home. We were hurt more though. Irma and I tried to have a foal of our own but it never happened. We're too old now. The family stopped talking to us and well...." He reached into his pocket for a third time, extracting the bottle. "That's how the story goes."
He began to drink then suddenly with a small guilty look, offered the bottle to Rarity.
"Apologies, madame."
"Oh! No thank you, it's a bit too early for me to get into that sort of thing. So, Applejack should have fond memories of this place I would think, yes?"
"We gave her everything, Miss Rarity. We did everything in our power to give her the sort of upbringing a young filly deserves. Needs. The best clothes, the best sort of friends, personal assistants, parties, books, a REAL education. So rough around the edges and we tried our best to smooth them. But time makes fools of us all and we endlessly came to realize nothing had changed. Then she left us. She was so little."
"So, when she keeps having these rather....perverse reactions...it's due to....?"
"GUILT!" the stallion bellowed, slamming his hoof into the desk. "Guilt, Miss Rarity. She's drowning in it. Poor dear probably fears the repercussions of her actions. The hurt she left in us. The way the Apples has extradited us from the family tree. But when it comes down to it.....we still do love her, Miss Rarity."
The anger in his voice faded as did the light in his eye, making him look older than ever. He leaned back in his chair, gazing at the ceiling, his breathing ragged.
"We loved her as if she was our own, madame. We still do. All we want is for our little April to come back home."
"April?"
"April Jacques. A nickname based off of my father and the wife's mother. It's what we used to call her instead of her rather uncouth birth name. She loved it, so."
"It's very beautiful. I'm rather sorry to hear this story, Mr.Orange."
"Please, please. Call me Opal. It's not a common name and I wear it proudly."
"Would you believe I have a cat by that same name?"
"A lucky cat it is, then. So now you know."
"Opal, would you and Irma be interested in perhaps....repairing the bonds broken with your niece?"
"Is this an invitation to the auction?"
"It's more than that, sir. I need help setting up....well rather a lot of things. I was going to ask for help from my friend Hoity Toity, the fashion designer and Fancypants who -"
"Yes, yes, I'm familiar with both of those gentlecolts." interrupted Opal, with a wave of his hoof. "I visit Canterlot from time to time to see the Wonderbolts derby with Fancy. Been ages, mind."
"I haven't asked either of them yet since it's rather short notice but, I've decided to drop the matter. I think it'd be a lot more special to perhaps theme the auction around family rather than pathos. I also think it would do a lot of good if I could have your help, Mr.Opal. The way Applejack has been, I think reuniting her with this broken piece of her family would really be the best thing for her. She helped me repair some broken bonds in my own family once. I feel as if I should do the same."
"You must care for her a great deal to go through this much trouble." Opal replied, raising an eyebrow.
"I do, yes." answered Rarity, trying not to avert her eyes.
"I see. And what if she doesn't agree to meet us?"
"I already know she won't. She's very stubborn."
"She gets that from her father."
"I think it'd be nice if it was a surprise. Some honored guests around the usual crowd of elites and nobles. Would you be able to help me with this? We could schedule it some other time, if need be."
The stallion leaned back in his chair, pouting his snout out a bit, as if deep in thought. He took one last swig from his bottle before placing it back into his pocket. With a quick motion he had pulled out a small white business card, and offered it to Rarity with a small bow. It was pure white with two golden oranges, side by side, over the words ORANGE INCORPORATED with a phone number and address. Rarity took the card glancing it over before looking up at the stallion who flashed her a crooked smile.
"I could never be too busy to help out a member of the family, Miss Rarity. I will help in any ways I can."
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She was all smiles as she arrived back to the hotel. Karma had been against them during this entire escapade. Every time something good seemed to be on the horizon, disaster was soon in it's wake. Her desperation to make this last trip a happy one for her friend was overwhelming. If they couldn't find good luck, then she would just have to make some. Make her own karma. It was so perfect, too. She could truly pay Applejack back for her kindness. Fix her family the way Applejack had done for her more than a year prior. Truly, she could not think of a more perfect opportunity. The curtains on the stage would rise as she and Applejack sat together in the back of the crowd, almost anonymous to the collectors there to compete over pieces. During the shouts and holding of signs, she would whisper into her friends ear that she had a surprise planned. The two would find her estranged aunt and uncle. There would be tears, hugs, words passed between them. It would be perfect and beautiful just the way life should be. Rarity couldn't help dancing into the elevator as these thoughts passed through her head. She was positively giddy. It came as no surprise when she found the hotel room empty. It was still early and she assumed Applejack would have gone somewhere to get breakfast.
Next to the casino was a small deli in the bottom floor of the hotel. It was pretty nice, with several active chefs whom you could speak with to order just about anything. She found Applejack standing next to one, staring in awe as the pegasus stallion continued to flip an omelette several feet into the air, often whirling into a backflip and landing perfectly only to extend his frying pan and catch the airborn egg concoction with a small splat, never losing any of the various ingredients that sloshed about in the yellow curdles. Rarity crept up behind her friend to watch the show as the stallion continued to pull off amazing tricks. Near the end a small piece of celery managed to escape from the omelette pan and took to the air, doing its best to escape its fate as part of a healthy balanced breakfast.
"Oh whoops!" the pegasus shouted as he made a halfhearted attempt to try and catch the celery. It's horizontal velocity was too quick for him to nab it with the pan. Not that it mattered as a moment later Applejack had snapped it out of the air with the reflexes of a cobra and sat happily munching.
"No harm done!" Applejack quipped as she happily munched on the vegetable.
"First time I've lost a bit of food during a trick in almost two years! My perfect record has been tarnished." the stallion chuckled to himself as he slid the glistening omelette onto Applejack's plate.
"Well heck, mister. I ain't seen anyone ever toss an egg that high and not lose half of the thing on the way down."
"It's a rare mistake. I must have been distracted!" he said with a quick wink, causing Applejack to blush.
"Oh! Heh, thanks." Applejack mumbled as she looked away with a smile, her whole face going bright red.
Rarity tried not to giggle at the production. Her friend was so amusingly shy at times when it came to receiving compliments. Particularly about her good looks.
"Enjoying yourself?" Rarity asked, finally stepping up to Applejack and the chef.
"Oh hey, Rare! This place has got folks who cook food right here fresh when ya ask for it. You can even watch 'em make it. Never seen such a thing."
"Yes, speaking of could I have a blueberry muffin with apricot jam, my good man? And well...." she glanced at Applejack's plate. "I guess I will have an egg too."
The two friends found themselves sitting at a wicker table a few feet away as Rarity waited for her omelette to be completed as she eyed Applejack's hungrily. Celery, cilantro, and bits of potato all were perfectly braised, sitting in a very soft group of egg curdles. They had clearly been cooked very slowly to retain as much of the butter's moisture as possible. The smell was heavenly, but clearly not quite thick enough to disguise Rarity's recent trip.
"You been drinkin' already, Rare?" Applejack asked, her bright and cheery face suddenly seeming a tad worried. It was pretty early in the morning for a pony to be hitting the sauce.
"Of course not! A lady does not partake of the drink at this hour! Why on earth would you think that?" Rarity gasped, trying to look offended.
"I dunno, thought I smelled whiskey. Must be somethin' in the egg, homph homph!" Applejack buried her face in the plate, greedily devouring the meal as if it would be her last. When she finally came up for air her smile was even larger. "Mmm! Mmm! That there is good eatin'! Wish I could cook an egg that good. I'd make 'em every day."
"Oh good mine is finally done!" Rarity said excitedly as she noticed the pegasus chef waving a hoof to her from the banquet. She quickly dropped her handbag to the floor and galloped over to retrieve breakfast.
Applejack sat back in her chair, glancing briefly at the floor to where Rarity had dropped her handbag. She felt content. Waking up in the silken sheets of the soft hotel bed and eating one of the best omelettes she'd ever had the pleasure of seeing get cooked right before her very eyes. Her mood was shattered slightly when she saw a white rectangle peeping out of the pocket of the handbag. She craned her neck slightly. It was a business card with a small orange on it. An orange she recognized. Her pupils contracted as a small shiver rolled through her body. Time seemed to slow to a crawl as she stared at the orange. For most ponies, seeing this emblem would mean nothing. But for Applejack it was mortifying.
"What's wrong, AJ?" Rarity asked as she returned to her seat. "You look like you've seen a ghost."
"What uh....is that?" Applejack pointed a hoof at the card, glancing up at Rarity.
"Oh that. Some representatives were at the auction house this morning. Traded some business cards. Marketing. Networking. The usual sort of thing!" Rarity lied, ending with a small chuckle. It was imperative the surprise not be ruined.
"Alright." Applejack leaned back into her chair, feeling the knot in her full stomach begin to subside, the feelings of contentment returning. "So what was happening at the auction house anyway?"
"Paperwork. Registrations. Boring stuff." Rarity took a sip of her coffee as she spooned a large chunk of omelette into her mouth. "There's margarine and whole milk in this omelette. No wonder it tastes so good."
"What's the plan for today anyway?"
"Other than a few phone calls, I am free. As are you. Meaning we can do whatever you like. Sightseeing. We can visit the casino. Take in a show at the theater. There's a music festival happening over on Brumby Street if you're interested. Octavia and Scratch will be there."
"Well shoot! Let's get goin' to that then. I wanna hang out with Scratch and Octy some more. I like 'em."
Rarity daintily dabbed at her mouth with a napkin while Applejack roughly shoved her beloved stetson onto her head. The two exited the establishment happily and walked down the street towards the music festival. Which luckily for Applejack meant that she'd be particularly far from the Orange building, the street it sat on, and the dark history that they contained for the young mare.