//------------------------------// // Chapter 7 // Story: Cutie Mark Crusaders - Earning Your Keep // by DMDash71 //------------------------------// “…it wasn’t my fault, he was hurt!” Sweetie Belle crossed her forelegs and shot an irritated look at the mare across the room. All the way across the room. “Besides, he didn’t spray me, I just held him and put him in the wagon. I don’t smell!” She paused and hurriedly sniffed herself to be sure. “Well, there’s no sense in taking chances, now, is there?” Rarity stood in front of the bench in her workroom, the horn on her forehead bathed in a bright blue glow of magic effluence as she levitated a bolt of cloth before her, frowning for a moment. “Besides,” she added, “Scootaloo and Apple Bloom are doing just wonderfully on their own!” The two fillies in question were seated on a low platform next to Rarity, both covered in half-finished dress designs. Apple Bloom sported a yellow and blue sundress with a wide-brimmed hat that sat off-kilter on her tumbled forelock. Scootaloo was draped in a somewhat heavier design, a formal dress suitable for a dance or wedding. This wouldn’t have bothered the little pegasus so much if the dress hadn’t been a shade of pink so bright that it made her retinas ache when she glanced down at it. She’d been doing her best to avoid doing that as much as possible, and was currently keeping her eyes closed to avoid accidentally glancing at it. Sighing heavily, she gave up and opened her left eye, glaring over at Apple Bloom. “I am not liking this idea.” “Aw, c’mon Scootaloo.” Apple Bloom giggled helplessly. “Rarity said she’d help us fix up our clubhouse with something. And you get to look pretty!” “I don’t wanna look pretty. I wanna look awesome.” Scootaloo looked down at herself and grimaced. “And it’s so not happening right now.” “Hmm. Maybe you should try standin’ different. You know, an action pose!” Apple Bloom waved a forehoof at her friend. “Like you’re getting’ ready to face off with a dragon!” "Yeah!” Scootaloo jumped straight up into the air and landed in a crouch, her wings outstretched and poised for flight, glaring fiercely across the room at Rarity and imagining an enormous scaly dragon in her place. Her eyes narrowed to gleaming lavender slits and she grinned. “Too bad for you, dragon! I’m here to save my friends!” Sweetie Belle sat up and began shaking imaginary bars in front of her. “Over here, Scootaloo! Help! The mean old dragon has me locked up over here! She’s gonna eat me for…” She paused and waited a beat. “DINNER!” “Quick, Scootaloo, you gotta do somethin’!” Apple Bloom chimed in. “Don’t worry.” Scootaloo’s wings burst into motion, vibrating rapidly as they turned into orange blurs. “I’m gonna have to use my special power. The SUPERCHARGE!” The other two fillies gasped appreciatively. Rarity turned around and glanced at Scootaloo, then froze, her jaw dropping open. “Oh my goodness, that’s…that’s simply terrifying!” “See?” Scootaloo snickered. “Told ya!” Rarity rubbed her chin with a forehoof for a moment, and then leaned over and grabbed something from one of the shelves on her workbench. She trotted over to Scootaloo and knelt down, tucking a daisy behind the filly’s left ear. “There, that’s so much better! Perfect!” She turned away and paced off, humming an aimless tune to herself as she began searching one of her wall cabinets. “And don’t slouch, dear, it ruins your poise something dreadful.” Scootaloo's wings buzzed to a stop and she stood motionless, still crouched, her expression glowering, staring at where the imaginary dragon had just blasted her with flame. “I need a new special power.” “You think you have problems?” Sweetie Belle sighed. “At least you weren’t on the menu.” She sat back down for a moment, frowning. “Hey, Rarity. I thought you said you didn’t want to use all that yucky fabric.” She pointed at the stack of pastel colored material that Rarity had discarded earlier. “How come you’re designing stuff with it, then?” “You’re quite right, dear. Those are summer colors and the festival I’m planning designs for is for fall, after all.” Rarity’s horn glowed once more, briefly, and a swirl of magic adjusted the hem of Scootaloo’s dress. “Oh, that’s perfect.” She stood back, looking at them appraisingly. “I already ordered the proper colors, and when they get here, I’ll already have some wonderfully posh designs ready to go!” “What about mine?” Apple Bloom looked down at herself, frowning. “This ain’t no gala dress.” “Very perceptive, dear.” Rarity beamed. “That is something that no pony can resist at a fashion show.” She crouched down and lowered her voice. “A sneak preview of next year’s designs.” The unicorn straightened up, frowning a bit. “Of course it’ll change by spring…hats are so ephemeral when it comes to personal taste. One moment they’re in, the next, out. But it will pique their interest and get them in the door, and I can’t ask for much more, can I?” “I guess so.” Sweetie Belle had never really grasped this part of her older sister’s occupation. She often liked to think that she could be a designer, just like her sister, and she did have a basic grasp of what looked good, and what didn’t. Scootaloo’s dress was exquisitely tailored especially for a pegasus, with just the right amount of material left out to allow her wings complete freedom of movement without ruining the basic design; the flowing curves down the hem on the side actually accented the sweep of her wings. Despite her rather hangdog expression, the pegasus really did look pretty dressed up. But the intangibles of personal whim in design and the rapid ebb and flow of what was popular one minute and yesterday’s news the next was something Sweetie Belle could not quite grasp; her elementary magic practice seemed relatively easy in comparison. Despite the fact she couldn’t actually do any magic. At least, not yet. “Are we almost done yet, Rarity?” She glanced at the large bay window at the front of the shop, where the afternoon sun shone in warmly. “We still wanna try and get some stuff for the clubhouse before it gets too late.” Rarity glanced at a clock on the wall and blinked. “Oh my, the time has flown. I suppose I have kept you three long enough.” She smiled at all of them. “Thank you so much for helping me, you really have been dears to do this. Sometimes it’s so hard to get willing help with this sort of thing. The few times Rainbow Dash has helped me with this, it’s been an effort to get her to stand still for more than a minute.” Scootaloo, who was already halfway out of the dress at this point, stopped and stared at the unicorn wonderingly. “You got Rainbow Dash to try on dresses for you??” “Oh yes, a few times. That mare would look simply smashing with the correct application of fashion. I do keep trying, however.” Rarity sighed in self-commiseration. “The things I do for the sake of fabulousity.” Scootaloo looked at her own dress, reconsidering. Well, I guess it wasn’t too bad. And I was able to stick through it. Apparently, even Rainbow hadn’t been able to do that. The idea that she had able to deal with something her hero couldn’t endure swept over the little filly, and she toyed with the fabric between her forehooves, smiling to herself as she heard it rustle, the material even seeming to glow as she eyed the ruffled curves. “Aww yeah. I made you look good, dress.” “Scootaloo, you can let go of it now, dear.” “Huh?” The pegasus looked up. Rarity was looking at her, an odd, quirky smile on her muzzle as her horn rippled with blue light. “I promise to make you one of your own another time, if you really want one that badly.” “What? Oh!” Scootaloo let go of the dress and grinned apologetically as it floated away. Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom stood on either side of her, giggling, and she felt a dull heat in her face as she blushed. “I really like her….mane!” Sweetie Belle intoned, staring at the dress and affecting a hypnotized gawp as it floated over to drape itself on one of the dress forms in the corner. She stared at it a moment longer and then couldn’t hold the pose any more, dissolving into laughter. “That was so funny I forgot to laugh. Again.” Scootaloo stuck her toungue out at Sweetie and made a rude noise. “All right now, girls. I promised you I’d give you something for your troubles, and I hope this shan’t disappoint.” Rarity was rummaging through a storage bin on one side of the room, her muzzle pursed up in a moue of concentration. “No…no. Oh good heavens, no, wrong material…ah! Here we are.” Her horn glowed once again, and a large bolt of sky-blue material lifted itself from the bin and floated over to the three fillies. “Sweetie told me what a horrible shambles that storm made of your clubhouse, in and out. I know the money you’ve made will buy materials to fix the outside, but the inside of things is important as well. This ought to do to help with a bit of redecorating.” She walked over and brushed a forehoof over the material. “You could make a smashing set of drapery with this to replace what you lost, as well as a wonderful rug or two, a tablecloth, or pretty much anything else you like.” Rarity looked at them apprehensively. “Do…do you like it?” The three were staring at the huge bolt of cloth in wonder. “Like it? That’s beautiful!” Apple Bloom looked at her friends excitedly. “Wow, we could make…anythin' with that much stuff!” “Yeah! And the color’s totally awesome!” Scootaloo wasn’t all that enthusiastic about pink, but sky blue was one of her favorite hues. “We could even make our own flag!” “A flag, and our own song…wow, we could make our own country!” Sweetie Belle laughed. “Cutie Mark Crusaderland!” “I’m th' president!” Apple Bloom said immediately. “And I’m the vice-president!” Scootaloo chimed in. Sweetie Belle sat back and primped the curls of her mane. “Then I’m the secretary of the interior decorating.” She smiled, pleased with herself, and looked over to see her friends eyeing her warily. “What?” “You worry me, sometimes.” Apple Bloom shook her head, then looked at Rarity again. “Thanks again, Rarity. This is really great!” “Ah-ah, I’m not quite done.” Rarity’s horn flared alight once more, and a small glass jar floated over to them, clinking as it moved. She upended it in mid-air and a small stream of ten golden coins fell out and dropped neatly into the pouch Sweetie Belle wore on her side. The fillies all stared at it, open-mouthed, and then looked up at the unicorn. Apple Bloom was the first to speak. “But I thought you said you didn’t—” “I had a customer come in before lunch. They bought one of my hats.” Rarity offered them a small smile. “I know it’s not much, but perhaps it will help you get what you need, at least.” Sweetie Belle felt her eyes smarting, and she dashed forward and hugged her sister. “You’re the best, sis, you know that?” “Well of course I do, dear.” Rarity stroked the filly’s mane tenderly with a forehoof. “Besides, if I let you go out picking vegetables again or some other horrible thing like that to make the extra money you need, I could never forgive myself.” She fluffed out a bit of Sweetie Belle’s mane. “And it takes forever to get your forelock styled properly when you get it as dirty as you did the other day.” Sweetie Belle just hugged her sister’s foreleg tighter against her cheek and smiled at the excuse. She knew better. Rarity had made ten bits this morning, and given the money to them…because she could. That was just the way she was. There was a knock on the door, and they looked up to see Twilight Sparkle looking through the open upper half Rarity always left ajar while her shop was open. “Hey, everypony! I’ve been looking all over for you kids.” The three fillies blinked at each other and looked at the purple unicorn in surprise. “Us?” Apple Bloom asked. “Mmm-hmm!” Twilight nodded. “Rainbow Dash told me you were looking for odd jobs to help raise money to fix your clubhouse. That’s really enterprising of you.” She smiled. “I have a few books that the school wanted to borrow from the library, and I could use a hoof or two in helping carry them over there. That is, if you’re interested.” She smiled and winked. Rarity saw the look on their faces and braced herself, flattening her ears back against the coming onslaught. “Three…two…one.” “CUTIE MARK CRUSADER MOVERS!”