//------------------------------//
// Identities 
// Story: Blooming Under Pressure 
// by Dice 
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	Once they sat down to eat, Applebloom started ignoring Picklejuice's constant stream of chatter. There was no way she was going to listen to all of that. Sweetiebelle was bad enough sometimes... but this mare didn't seem to have an off switch. So instead, Applebloom tuned out and looked over the three ponies she'd just met. First, there was the mare Picklejuice. Applebloom wasn't quite sure where she got the name, but it matched her dark green pelt quite nicely (along with her outgoing personality.) Picklejuice's cutiemark was.... a paintbrush? No, that didn't seem quite right. The brush was a little too flared and short to be a paintbrush. It reminded her more of the things rarity had used when she was putting makeup on the fillies for a school dance. So, a makeup brush maybe... not the cutie mark she expected on a mare named Picklejuice... especially not a mare named Picklejuice who also happened to be attending a facility for the training of what were essentially pony spies.... All and all Picklejuice looked like a nice mare (when her mouth was shut), something that was only slightly offset by her eerily neon green eyes, which shone out from her dark mane like two glowstick bracelets.
Then there was terminal, the almost gaunt colt. He seemed to be, in a word, a nerd. His pelt was a light tawny brown, and his mane was a shock of orange and red. His cutie mark was, quite obviously, a computer terminal. He had a pair of old wire-framed glasses that were constantly sliding down his muzzle, and brown eyes behind them. Those eyes, however, seemed to be constantly fixed on Picklejuice, or some part of her. Most often on her eyes... or on her flanks. Applebloom knew infatuation when she saw it, and this was most definitely it, possibly more to the point of obsession. Picklejuice, on the other hand, seemed to be blissfully unaware of this and kept speaking without pause.
Then, there was the last colt, Kitten. Though his name was amusing, this colt did not seem to be one to mess with. He was huge. But there seemed to be something a little... off about his bulk. It wasn't distributed correctly, or so it seemed. Most of it seemed to be in his upper back and chest, and he leaned forward when he walked, like he was permanently bent into a slouch. There were other strange bits about him as well, such as his ears. Ears weren't usually the first thing Applebloom noticed, but she had noticed that he'd been keeping his beneath his dark black mane. whenever she got a glimpse of them, they seemed to be tapered and long, but it was hard to tell. But it wasn't just his weight and ears... his eyes seemed a little off. He was always blinking or squinting slightly, like he had something unpleasant on his eyeball. When applebloom thought about it, she became quickly convinced that the colt was wearing contacts of some sort. It was the only thing that made complete sense.
Applebloom's daze broke when she realized Picklejuice was saying her name.
"Huhwhat? Sorry, ah was off in the clouds. What were yah sayin'?"
PickleJuice rolled her eyes, "I was SAYING that you haven't told me anything about YOU! Where d'ya come from? How'd you get in here? I mean, it's a really hard application process, not to mention even finding out about it!"
"Application process?" Applebloom repeated, a small spark of anger igniting in her heart, "Ah didn't get to apply at all! Ah was KIDNAPPED!" She hit her hoof against the table in frustration, and the three other ponies jumped a little.
"Oh.." Picklejuice said quietly, her ears folding back. She seemed to at least have the decency to not talk excessively when someone was mad, "Yeah, we get a couple of those too. You usually only see that with the blank flanks... or with the ponies who wouldn't accept in any other way, but would be useful to the forces. You must be really special."
"Special mah FLANK!" Applebloom raged, slamming her hoof down again, sending her fork across the room, "I don't give a buck about what they're doin' here! Ah just wanna go home!"
Picklejuice seemed stunned into silence, and the colts lowered their heads. Applebloom took this as a chance to continue ranting.
"I don't care what they do here! If they want properly loyal ponies workin' for WHATEVER the buck they be doin', they can pick them from the canterlot gaurd! Or the wonderbolt academy, maybe! Wherever there's somewhere with ponies who're already wantin' to do this pile of griffon crap! I just want to stay on mah farm! With mah sister an' brother, an' all the rest'a us apples! Ah ain't cut out for this! What?!" Applebloom finally snapped at Picklejuice, who'd been waving her hooves frantically.
"Well, miss Applebloom, if you perhaps don't  wish to continue, you could speak to me," Came the familiar cold voice of a colt. Applebloom swallowed and turned to face the blue colt, who was holding the fork she'd sent flying. He calmly set the utensil on the table beside her tray, and looked her in the eye. "Now, if you'd like to know, all of our 'kidnapped' agents have actually been recommended to us by current members of the Canterlot intelligence. Your integrity and intelligence was spoken highly of by our agent. You would disappoint them if you were to quit now. Please, our harsh methods of... procuring you were only to ensure your complete cooperation."
"Complete cooperation..." Applebloom repeated dully. She still got a bad feeling from this colt... but she was starting to understand him a little more. "Well, in that case, may ah know who the agent who recommended me was?"
He looked at her carefully, "If I do, will you swear yourself to secrecy on the identity of the agent? Even if you decide to return to your home in ponyville?"
"Yessir."
"..Then I will ask them about it. Until I get a definite answer, I expect you to go through with ALL of your training and assignments as usual."
"..Yessir." Applebloom looked down. The colt nodded coolly, and trotted off. Picklejuice stared after him, amazed, then turned her gaze to Applebloom.
"You know the director?!" She whispered. Applebloom's eyes widened. "Wait, what? THAT's the director?"
"You didn't know?! He's in charge of EVERYTHING! He's the one who gets the orders from the princesses themselves, an' gives them to the rest of us! If HE was the one who came and picked you up, then you must be REALLY special!"
Applebloom grimaced slightly. "Really special... Everyone keeps saying that, but I don't think it means what y'all think it means..."