//------------------------------//
// Libiamo ne'dolci fremiti. 
// Story: Outlet. 
// by Reptilicus 
//------------------------------//

"Why....is that....horrible.....n-name....on my art....Rarity." Applejack managed to splutter, her face taking on a small twinge of rage as she noticed the two ponies sitting next to her friend.

"You......you......why are you here with.....THEM?!" 

There was a half second of silence where nobody said a thing. Rarity sat in shock, her mouth hanging open, unsure of what to say. The Oranges had only recently noticed their niece had joined them in the back aisle of the auction seating but had yet to finish their private conversation to speak with her. Several other ponies from the crowd around the chairs had stopped to watch the fiasco, silently staring at the orange earth mare in her red dress, who was trembling visibly, her face going pale as an idea dawned on her. An awful idea that suddenly made so much sense. Every strange reaction, every bit of generosity that seemed far too generous, every goad, every argument, every out-of-place sign that had come into view. All clashed together in one solid conclusion in the farm pony's mind, her eyes widening in sheer horror at the betrayal. She flushed, going pale and took a few steps back, her green eyes brimming with tears as she clenched her jaw, her voice barely above a whisper.

"You're........ ashamed of me."

Rarity's eyes went wide as well at these words. No, this wasn't possible. But how could she deny it? It wasn't her intent, but now everything she had tried to do, every kindness she had managed, was suddenly turning on her. She looked like a monster in front of one of the very few ponies she truly cared about. Would do anything for. Would die for, if she had to. She felt cold as she stared into the face of her friend, unable to speak. What could she say? There was nothing that could make this situation better. This shouldn't be happening. This couldn't be happening. She closed her eyes for a brief moment. This had to be a nightmare. If she shut it all out, shut out the visual and audio fury that was bombarding her being, it'd simply go away. She'd wake up back in the hotel room. Enjoying the feeling of her silk pajamas in the luxurious hotel bed, ready to spend another fun-filled day with her friend. But as her eyes re-opened and she took in her surrounding she knew this was not to be.

"You are. You're ashamed of bein' mah friend." Applejack squeaked out, the tears flowing freely now as her body trembled even more, threatening to collapse. "You never....cared about me. All you cared about was.....using me. Just like.....these awful monsters!" She turned her frustrations on the Oranges who had finally realized all was not well.

"Monsters?!" Irma shouted. "You spoiled impudent little foal! We gave you everything! EVERYTHING! You owe us more than you could ever imagine."

"I DON'T OWE Y'ALL A DANG THING!" Applejack screamed, her bellows causing even more bystanders to turn and watch the tragic family reunion.

"We treated you like our own!" Opal shouted back, taking a long swig from his bottle of orange whiskey.

"YOU TREATED ME LIKE A STUPID ANIMAL! LIKE I WAS GARBAGE!"

"BECAUSE YOU ARE GARBAGE! BUT WE COULD HAVE FIXED THAT!" Irma yelled back.

"MAYBE I LIKE BEING GARBAGE!" she shouted, leaning close to Irma as she shrieked causing the pale yellow mare to hide behind her husband in fear.

"Applejack." Rarity finally managed to whisper, still motionless as a statue from the sheer shock of all that was happening around her. "I didn't.....mean.....for this to happen."

"DID YOU THINK I WOULDN'T SEE THE SIGNS? DID YOU THINK I CAN'T READ? YOU THINK I'M AN IDIOT JUST LIKE THESE TWO!" Applejack stomped her hooves into the tile with each word, the marble splintering as her powerful forelegs drove into the shingles. "I thought.....you were....different, Rare. I thought you were different!"

"What in Equestria is happening here exactly? Why are you blaming Rarity for your problems?" Irma demanded from behind her husband.

"It's a lover's quarrel, dear." Opal slurred flatly, taking a long drought from his bottle and placing it back into his breastpocket. "Something you should be familiar with." Irma stared daggers of hatred at him.

Time seemed to speed up as Rarity began to slip into a stupor. It was over. It was all over. Everything she had worked for. Everything she had tried to do. But most importantly, her friendship. This mare she loved like a sister. It was over. There was no recovery from this. As she pondered these thoughts, the world became a blur of motion and shouting and color. Apple and Orange continued to shout and in time, Applejack ran off into the crowd. The Orange shouted some curt words in Rarity's direction but she never picked up on them. Her position remained, backwards in her chair, staring forward, unable to speak or truly think. The sheer magnitude of the situation still colliding with her psyche, like a sledgehammer. All she could do was gawk, her mouth open as her jaw hung limply. There was no sound. There were no tears, not yet. The time required for such things had yet to pass. And the night wasn't over. 

At that moment, the crackle of the loudspeakers became evident. Only now it wasn't the voice of the goat auctioneer she heard over the din of the crowd. Rarity felt herself grow cold, shivering as she turned towards the stage, hearing the last three words she would ever have expected to hear.

"Dear Princess Celestia."

At last the unicorn managed to look at the stage to see Applejack standing there at the podium, next to a painting of Ponyville. Her face and neck were soaked, and the tears hadn't stopped yet. Her eyebrows were quivering and she had the look of a pony crazed. Someone who had lost everything in a matter of mere moments. The microphone clasped roughly between her hooves as the goat stood a few feet away, looking confused and slightly frightened at the interruption in proceedings.

"Today I leaned that sometimes....." Applejack continued. "....sometimes it's the ponies you love the most who will take advantage of you. Today I learned that when your first instinct to somethin' new is not to bother, then you should follow it. Paranoia can be a good thing. And maybe it's not good to trust others so.....foolishly."

She cast her eyes downward.

"....sincerely your friend, April."

There was silence as Applejack stared at the floor, her green eyes darting around searching for answers. All at once she smiled warmly and looked up at the audience, all traces of grief suddenly gone from her face, though the tears remained.

"Howdy y'all! My name's Applejack!" she tipped her hat politely, it sat slightly off to the side on her head.

There were a few awkward coughs in the crowd as everyone in the room stared at the production on stage, unsure of how to react.

"And as y'all have probably guessed from my accent, I ain't from around here. I'm from Ponyville. Maybe ya've heard of it or maybe ya haven't."

Applejack licked her dry lips, her smile becoming slightly crooked as she thought of her next words.

"Some of ya folks might know me as April Jacques. That's the name on all the paintings in here so I don't blame ya for yer filthy ignorance as to the real owner of these here works. But the name April ain't real folks. My name is and always has been Apple. It's what my parents named me and what I'll be buried with."

"So yeah, all these pieces of fine art that y'all have been buyin' tonight come from me. A dumb earth pony farmer. Some of y'all might not know what a farmer is so lemme simplify it: it means I actually work for a living."

She glared slightly at the crowd before the smile returned.

"Here's another educational fact for ya. All this fine art y'all have been spendin' thousands of bits for? These fancy pieces y'all think are so valuable that you don't mind spendin' a fortune on it instead of more productive things? Well, guess what? I make these in my spare time. They are a hobby. I keep 'em in an ol' basement where they get all covered in dirt and mushrooms cause I don't care much for 'em."

There was a murmur of surprise over the crowd, the exact reaction the mare had been hoping for.

"You know how they say 'one pony's trash is another pony's treasure'? Well, enjoy it. I use these paintin's for firewood usually. Sometimes I grind it up into mulch so I can plant things in it and grow food. Food's alot more important than art, dontcha think? So yeah. All these things.....are GARBAGE! Y'ALL HAVE BEEN BUYIN' MY GAAARRBAAAAGE! AHAHAHA!"

A crazed chuckle escaped the mare as the crowd gasped, some shouts of anger could be heard. The goat with the monocle began to sweat profusely, stepping offstage to the back.

"See right now I can hear y'all, fishin' around in yer coinpurses. Wantin' refunds. It's cute n' all how finnicky ya folks are. But don't worry, see. I got a real good idea as to what y'all can do with all that money you lucked into. Since y'all disrespect earth ponies and our food so darn much.....why don't y'all try eatin' your money? Sure got enough of it! And shoot, maybe if we're all real lucky, some of you folks will choke to death on it!"

And with that, Applejack threw the microphone to the stage, causing a yelp of pain from the crowd as the feedback squealed over the loudspeakers. With a kick she sent the podium crashing off the stage, as it splintered onto the floor. Applejack bent her head, grabbing the pleated mandarin collar of her dress, and with a single heave had torn the entire article of clothing from her body, small pieces of the fabric floating to the floor in tatters. She hopped off the stage and trotted between the aisles and through the angry crowd. Rarity reached a hoof out to stop her on the way. The orange mare stopped in her path, but didn't turn to look at the white unicorn.

"Applejack."

"Listen. I'm gonna work real hard so I can pay ya back for all you've spent on this trip. After that I don't want ya comin' around the farm no more."

"Applejack, please!"

Applejack twisted her neck to look Rarity in the face. There was an unmistakable look of anger and betrayal in her eyes as she stared down.

"I don't want to see you. I don't want to know you."

In a quick motion, Applejack skirted around the foreleg impeding her walk, making her way towards one of the glass doors on the far wall of the Archipelago room. The din of the crowd died down to complete silence as every pair of eyes in the room watched her make her way out. She butted the door open with her head, made her way outside, and with a powerful kick of her workhorse legs, sent it slamming shut. It shattered and fell off its hinges, clattering to the floor in a pile of glass and bent steel. 

Rarity sat, her jaw still agape as her friend's silhouette was lost to the street, covered by the crowds and carriages that rode through the town. How to react? She'd never been in a situation so awful and spectacular all at the same time. Applejack's words cut through her, causing her whole body to ache. She fought back tears as the finality of the situation began to dawn on her. Everything was ruined. Everything.

She was brought out of her stupor by a tender nudge on her shoulder. She turned to see Irma Orange glancing at her, a look of sympathy on her face.

"I apologize for her. She never was able to properly thank those who do nice things for her."

"Indeed. Always such a rascal. You lock a pony in her room for a few days and she acts like its the end of the world." Opal chimed in, peering into the empty whiskey bottle in the hopes he had missed a drop or two.

"Now we at least can see the full effect of letting Granny Smith raise her." Irma said with a nod.

"Indeed. Hard to believe such a nice though simple little filly grew up to be such a -"

Opal would never get to finish that sentence. Partly because he would be unconscious a moment later, and also partly because a large majority of his teeth would soon exit his mouth as Rarity's perfectly manicured and dainty hoof collided with his jaw with the raging force of a train, sending him flying from his chair and to the floor.

A few feet away, Vinyl Scratch sat at the table where the food was, munching calmly on a shrimp chip. Seemingly unfazed by the catastrophe that had unfolded inside the gallery. She smirked slightly as she leaned over to a security guard who was standing next to her, holding a dripping painting.

"Didn't think I was gonna get dinner AND a show."

The guard slowly turned to Vinyl, his eyes boggling that she could make a joke at this time. Vinyl frowned and grabbed another chip.

"Ugh. Humorless bureaucrats."


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For the second time in her life, Applejack ran from Manehattan to Ponyville. Never stopping to rest, never stopping to eat or drink. Never stopping to check her surroundings and think. She had the desert, the tundra, and the old railroad tracks alongside her as she galloped. The moon lit her way and the tumbleweeds parted, admitting her through. These were the only friends she'd need on this trip. It was the kind of journey her kind had made before technology had made their lives so easy. So simple. Her ancestors had made these trips, not for tourism. Not for sightseeing. They made these trips for survival. And now as grief wracked her body, her muscles screaming at her to stop, her brain telling her to move ever faster, Applejack knew she was in a race for survival. A race for her sanity. A race to get away from all the hurt, all the pain. Her empire of dirt, being mutilated by the eyes of the rich and the greedy. The time for words was over and the time to move had always been, her powerful legs toned from years of hard work, pushing her along at incredible speeds. A cloud of dry hot dust in her wake as she galloped, her blonde tear-soaked mane whipping wildly in the wind behind her. There would be no stopping on this trip. There would be no breaks. No eating, no relieving of oneself, no sleep for the weary. This was a one-way expedition to Poneville. Back to her home, and things that were pleasant. Things that were familiar. Back to where she could be herself and not be judged. Back to her family, her REAL family. Back to her friends. The ones who loved her unconditionally, who knew the kind of mare she was and always would be.

Luna's moon was full this night, casting its teal light across the landscape. Every twig in the sand. Every rock and pebble. Every quill on a cactus. All gleamed as the rays reflected off their polished surfaces, as they had done for thousands upon thousands of years. A natural ritual that could never, and would never be interrupted. It was the song the earth sang when night came to rest. Even the echo of the galloping hooves as the mare ran through the wilds, was of no consequence to the plants and beasts as they rested, the cool desert air embracing them. They sat, growing, rotting, germinating in the wild untamed sands of the desert, spoiled only by the steel and titanium train tracks that divided them. But in time, these too would be destroyed. These too, would be forgotten when nature felt it was time. Ready to cover them in sand and soil, forever removing the technological progress of the locomotive. And then, once again, the equines of this land would run. Run far, and fast, and never stop. The way they once did in ages long past.

But these thoughts were of little comfort to the young horse as she galloped. There was no thought that would make this hurt less. No mantra that could soothe the wounds she had suffered this night. She was alone, as she had been before. Alone with her memories. The very ones she had hoped to forget, now danced before her closed eyes, torturing her. The nights she had wept alone in her locked room, hungry and desperate for love. The scolds she had received for letting her natural accent slip into her dialect. The belts that had bruised her side when she accidentally let slip anything related to farm life in conversations. The looks of disappointment in their eyes. The night she had escaped her captors through the window. The collision with the moving carriage. The pain as she had wandered the back alleys of the town, wounded, feeling her life fade. The pinpricks of agony when the vermin had descended upon her collapsed form. It was all too much. All these recollections, they were simply far far too much for the mare. She whinnied loudly into the night as she ran, her tears leaving glistening streaks along her body as she continued to run far, run fast, and never stop.