Sour Grapes left Grapevine hills, trotting down the lane, on her way to check up on everypony. It was better than moping around the Vineyard, fretting herself into a lather about how well the Storm Riders were faring against a volcano. She wasn’t even entirely sure HOW they were dealing with such an emergency. She made a mental note to ask Firestormer about it if.. no, not IF, WHEN they got back. The Storm Riders were competent, highly-skilled professionals when it came to this stuff. They wouldn’t take any undue risks, they would do their jobs with great efficiency and the WOULD come back. Grapes shook off the darker feelings and focused on the here and now. She checked Twilight’s list and nodded to herself. Nothing too fancy at the moment, after all much of what could be used at the Nightmare Night party could be improvised from what was laying about the property. Just some things like decorations, and snacks would be purchases... Of course that meant a trip to Filthy Rich’s store "Rich's Barnyard Bargains". As annoying as Mr Rich could be, he did have decent prices on his products.
Also she had to spread the word about her plans... well just to the ponies who mattered. She plotted out her route between Pinkie Pie, Rarity, Fluttershy, Applejack and Rainbow Dash’s homes... then stopped and rethought that last one. Dash literally lived with her head in the clouds in a gorgeous surreal estate of cloudstuff, currently in a holding pattern over Ponyville. Grapes wondered what it felt like to be able to walk on clouds or treat them like one could treat wet clay... what would a bed of cloudstuff FEEL like to a pegasus? Not that she really wanted to find out, her fear of heights would probably be crippling even if she had wings to try... which also brought up the same problem. She might have to ask another pegasus to go up to Dash’s home and pass on the news. There was no bucking way she was gonna resort to setting up a ladder... or crawl up one to chat. She made a decision to save that message for last.
Grapes trotted along to the other side of town, going to visit Fluttershy, first. Thankfully the trot was lovely, and the weather was still pleasant enough that there was no need to supplement her growing winter coat with clothes. The breeze was still brisque, but the unicorn didn’t feel the need to add anything to her wardrobe, or in this case lack of wardrobe.
As she skirted the edge of the town she noted that some ponies were currently looking through an assortment of colored swatches of material, holding them up in the air and squinting at the vacant awning frames on their homes. It was funny how quickly the Ponyvilleians bounced back from a crisis. There was an odd “hardiness in the face of the bizarre” to them that gave her a rare sensation of civic pride.
Her hooves found the short road that lead to Fluttershy’s modestly secluded cottage. She couldn’t help but feel a little jealous of it. It was so... picturesque. It was like something out of a painting and was always so well kept. She wondered where Fluttershy got the money to even buy it. Unlike the usual Pegasus ‘Surreal Estate’ which was as available to make as any castle in the air, earthly property tended to come with a price tag. Still, Fluttershy had the right to her privacy on such matters. Though Grapes had her suspicions, of course. Freelance vet may pay a bill or two, but a popular author of sordid literature... Well that could definitely pay for the picturesque cottage, and buy a lot of critter food. It would also explain just why certain personalities in the aforementioned author’s books seems so... familiar.
Upon reaching Fluttershy’s cottage, Sour Grapes simply had to stop and stare. Trotting about Fluttershy’s cottage, doing little errands, were the several dozen stallions that had been rounded up by the shy pegasus, previously. Naturally, Grapes would have thought that the lads would have gone home, upon being freed from captivity.
She never really realised there were so many young, single males in town... the high Female to Male ratio tended to dilute one’s perception on such things. And yet there they were, feeding chickens, slopping pigs, brushing dogs and cats, herding sheep... It was then that a rank stink hit her nose. A... a THICK, nostril-caking, rancid odor that seemed to reach right up her nose and elbow all other smells out of the way to monopolise her sense of smell. She knew of only one source for such a malodorous stench. She switched to breathing through her mouth and without turning around, greeted him.
“Ah. Hello, Dustbin,” Grapes uttered, dearly wishing for a cantrip for numbing the sense of smell. “I see Fluttershy rounded you up too.”
“Hello, Sour Grapes. Yes she got me too, guess that means I’m an eligible bachelor,” the unkempt pony said moving up beside her and putting a large bag of Haz. Brothers brand Skunk Chow down. Dustbin was one of the friendliest ponies around. Once you got past his thick, matted grayish beige and grayish brown hair that desperately needed a dozen washes and a lawnmower, as well as the lingering odor of... Ponyville detritus that clung to him, you found him easy to like. It also helped that he had the monopoly of one of those jobs that nopony else ever wanted to do. “So what brings you over here?”
“I came by to visit Fluttershy, and see how she was doing. Twilight’s staying at my house, for her recovery, and wanted an update,” Grapes explained. “Also, since she’s feeling under the weather, I thought I’d invite her to a very sedate Nightmare Night party I’m throwing for the casualties of the Caffeinated Calamity.”
“Caffeinated Calamity. Now that’s a good way to sum it all up. Don’t touch heavily caffeinated beverages m’self... never really needed it, although the occasional, ordinary hot cuppa can perk you up when you need it. My mum swore by green tea herself. Ah well, it’s good you came by. Fluttershy’s not short of help since the other day, we just thought since she was so nice to us after the whole... herding thing, we’d stay on and help the poor thing. It was pretty obvious that she was under the weather to begin with... what with all that running about with the riding crop and yelling.”
“Yeah. The whole set weren’t themselves, that day, Dustbin,” Grapes explained with a chuckle. “But Redline is being weened off that stuff, so he should be living longer and his inventions be a bit saner. By the way, Dustbin... I hope you don’t mind my asking, but is there something wrong with your olfactory facilities?”
“My... Oh. You mean my sense of smell? Yes, there is something wrong with it... don’t got one.”
“That explains it, then,” Grapes observed.
“Yeah. Bit of a chemical accident when I was a colt burned it all out. Glad it didn’t do the same to my lungs but haven’t stopped to smell the roses since. Why do you ask?”
“Well... Let’s just say that though you have no sense of smell, other ponies do. True, having no sense of smell is a boon for working in the refuse trade, but it doesn’t help a pony keep up their daily hygiene regimen,” Grapes observed.
He lifted a leg and looked at the tangled shaggy fetlocks that seemed to hold dust and grime as possessively as Filthy Rich held onto his bit bag.
“You may have a point... it would explain why I keep getting spa certificates for Hearth’s Warming gifts.”
“Maybe. After all, it’s hard to imagine other ponies having a sense of smell, when you don’t, but you can usually see it on their faces... Most ponies don’t have scrunched up muzzles, normally,” Grapes observed. “Also... keeping clean could do wonders for your social life. You’re rather a personable pony, I’ve found. It’s just the eu de refuse that would keep somepony from wanting to get to know you better,” she added, affecting a Prench accent, briefly.
“You do make a good point. I’ll have to check with the spa and see if they can get me in for a cleaning.” Dustbin hesitated a moment before continuing. “Aloe said they couldn’t take me at the time because they needed to order in some lye soap. Guess that should have been a hint that I’m not their average customer.”
“Yeah. Probably not. But you are caked up pretty good, there,” Grapes observed, thoughtfully. “Anyway, do you think Fluttershy is up to having visitors?”
“I’d say so. Short round is keeping her household in order so she can rest. Just watch out for that cranky little bunny. I’m not sure he likes having so many young stallions about his mistress’ property.”
“Oh I think I can handle Angel Bunny,” Grapes observed, as she trotted along to Fluttershy’s house. “Good luck with the skunks.” She got to the door of the quaint cottage, and knocked, waiting patiently for the door to be answered.
The door creaked open, and her eyes dropped down to see the short stallion looking up at her expectantly. Short Round seldom spoke, his position as a servant at the Canterlot Antelope Embassy (currently closed for the winter) seemed to make him a stallion of few words but good character. Sour Grapes cleared her throat.
“Good day, Mister Round,” Grapes said in a comically officious accent, a small grin to let him know she was parodying his more pompous clients. “Is Mistress Fluttershy receiving visitors?”
He gave her a knowing smile, and stood to the side as he opened the door wide enough that she could enter. The inside of Fluttershy’s home was as nice as the outside, there was a lingering ‘animal’ smell but it was amazingly enough, not as strong as you’d think. Fluttershy no doubt kept her home very clean. The smaller pony lead Grapes up the stairs and knocked gently on a closed door.
“Who is it?”
“Hello, Fluttershy,” Grapes said through the door. “Thought I’d come by for a visit, and see how you were doing.”
“Oh... well, thank you for asking. I’m not feeling very well but everypony’s been so very nice. I was so frightened of what they would think of me when Big Macintosh brought me back the other day. You know... because I was chasing them down like... like I was herding sheep. But they were so supportive and after Big Mac explained things they offered to help me out. I wish I remembered why I wanted to round them all up and care for them. I'm not sure where the riding crop came from... I don’t even OWN a riding crop... although Mister Zoom Lens says he would like a picture of me holding it in my mouth like I was the other day.”
“Gee, I wonder why,” Grapes uttered, rolling her eyes. “Anyway... I know you’re not the biggest fan of Nightmare Night, but I thought you’d like to come to a very sedate party I’m holding for you and your friends, who were tuckered out by the caffeine. Twilight’s kinda bummed out about missing the shindig, but I thought it’d be nice to have something, so she’s not completely missing out on her first Ponyville Nightmare Night.”
“Um... I don’t have to do anything scary will I? I mean if that’s alright with you,” Fluttershy uttered timidly
“I wasn’t planning on anything scary,” Grapes said with a shrug. “Stories, maybe, but that’s about it.”
“Can... I can probably make some snacks in a well-lit kitchen for everypony. You know.. popcorn and stuff. That way I don’t have to be in the way.” Grapes, by sheer force of will, kept herself from facepalming.
“Fluttershy,” she said with more patience than she felt, “you are an invited guest. You would not be ‘in the way’. If you prefer, though, you can stay inside. My house is always well-lit, as is the Bunkhouse. Though if you want, after the scary stories, you may want to come out, and roast marshmallows.”
“Well... ok. That sounds like fun. I’ve never done much in the way of Nightmare Night... Ponies love to try to scare me. I know they don’t mean to be mean but...“
“Being scared is part of what Nightmare Night is about, and so are pranks,” Grapes said. “I know all too well. But the scares on Nightmare Night are supposed to be the fun kind. I know I know, but sometimes being scared can be fun, if you know in the back of your mind it’s all fake, but at the time it feels real. It’s a way of making fun of the things that scare you, and make them smaller in your mind.”
“All right. I’ll come. Just please let the other ponies know I’m not well enough to handle a prank right now. OK?”
“I’ll be sure to let them know. Especially Pinkie and Rainbow,” Grapes replied. “I’ve got other invitations to deliver. You should probably get some more rest. I’m sure Shortround and the others are taking very good care of you.”
“Oh yes. They’ve all been so nice. It’s good to know that my animals will be taken care of while I’m resting. Thank you for dropping by, Grapes.”
“You’re welcome. Twilight will be happy to know you’re doing well,” Grapes said getting up, and heading back downstairs. “See you Nightmare Night.”
==========================
Sour Grapes made her way back into Ponyville proper, casting a brief glance up at Rainbow Dash’s house. It was a fantastic house, with its rainbow water fountains, but there was no way in Tartarus that she was going to find her way up there. Grapes swung by Sugarcube Corner, delivering her invitation to Pinkie Pie. She took the time to explain to the sugar-fueled pony that the party was going to be rather sedate, and mostly for Pinkie and her friends who were too under-the-weather to go to the big Ponyville shindig. Pinkie, of course, wanted to contribute, but Grapes was quick to nip that notion in the bud.
"But I wanna..."
"No."
"But, Grapsie..."
"No, Pinkie."
"But... but it's a party!"
"Pinkie, do you want me to sic Crabapple on you?"
"No."
Grapes sighed. "Look, I didn't say you couldn't contribute something. Just not anything that could undo all the good the rest has done so far. Do you have any Nightmare Night decorations I could use?"
"DO I?" Pinkie cried sitting up straight in her wheelchair before wincing and slowly settling back into it. "Owie... yes. Yes I do. They're up in my room."
"Where, exactly?" Grapes asked, not wanting to stumble upon any unmentionables in the Room of Pie. Considering whose room it happened to be, the unmentionables could be pretty darned unmentionable.
"I keep them in the steamer trunk at the foot of my bed. Just be careful opening it. Like helium tanks say... contents are under pressure," replied Pinkie with a sheepish grin.
"I'll be sure to keep that in mind," Grapes uttered, before heading upstairs. Pinkie Pie's living space was relentlessly cheerful... and pink. She could have sworn that there were places that the earth pony could have stood and blended perfectly with her surroundings like a beast of prey... if one's prey were ponies in need of a good party or a prank. Still the trunk was easy to locate... it was an insidious dark blue with the icon of Nightmare Moon emblazoned upon it. Well, if 'emblazoned' included an artistic application of glue and silver glitter. She carefully pried open the lid, preventing it from springing open violently from the expertly crammed contents and after marveling at them all, closed the lid tight again and took the whole trunk with her. She really didn't want to spend too much time in here. Too many questions were rising up in her mind... and she REALLY didn't even WANT to know why Pinkie had a bright blue and pink cannon in the corner. Sour Grapes departed Sugarcube Corner, thanking Pinkie for the decorations, and promising to return the reusable ones. Grapes went over to Carousel Boutique from Sugarcube Corner, pausing just outside to take a deep breath. Strangely enough she found Rarity to be more trying than Pinkie Pie, some days. Especially when the diamond white unicorn was feeling particularly dramatic.
Grapes looked at the boutique, and there in the window was a piece of paper with the words “SOrry... Sick tOday. MaYbe TOmOrrOw?” scrawled on it in bright crayon. Obviously NOT the work of the perfectionistic fashionista. Grapes had seen her hoofwriting and knew that even without the use of her horn, Rarity was actually quite adept with doing things equinually. Nevermind the simple fact that crayon was not Rarity’s usual medium for making signs for her window. Grapes simply knocked, and waited for an answer. The door was opened by the small, sweet smiling face of Rarity’s little sister Sweetiebelle.
“Oh hello, Sour Grapes. Sorry but Rarity is sick and can’t do stuff today. She had a drinking problem yesterday.” Grapes stared for a few moments, then started sniggering.
“Oh... If you’re lucky I won’t tell Rarity you said that,” Grapes said with a smirk.
“Said what?”
“That she had a drinking problem,” Grapes snickered.
“Well she DID! One cup made her act all WEIRD! She put me in a dress when I wasn’t looking and made me model it for her. ...it was really pretty but she made it out of her drapes.”The small unicorn foal glanced over at where a Sweetiebelle-shaped hole sat in one of the beautiful velvet drapes.
“Having a problem with a drink, and having a drinking problem are two different things,” Grapes said, then laughed. “She made mine out of an awning.”
“OOh. Was it pretty too?”
“Actually it looked pretty good. Durable too,” Grapes said with a chuckle.
“Soooo... Rarity can’t work on any dresses today. Sorry.”
“Lucky for her, I’m not here to ask her to work on a dress,” Grapes said with a grin. “I’m here to check up on her.”
“OH! Well that’s different. I think she’d love to have a visitor. She and Rainbow Dash haven’t had any yet.“
“Rainbow Dash is here?” Grapes asked, tilting her head.
“Yeah. When Big Macintosh dropped off Rarity she said that he could leave Rainbow Dash here too. You know... because the only way he’d be able to get her up to her house would be to throw her or something. So she’s in the guest room, I’ve been sleeping on Rarity’s couch and I’ve been taking care of them both. So far Rarity has me ordering out a lot instead of letting me near the kitchen. I dunno why... I can cook.”
“Maybe she’s just concerned about a young filly in the kitchen, alone,” Grapes said kindly. “After all you could get hurt. Knives, the stove, that sort of thing. And she’s stuck upstairs, and without the use of her magic to help with any injuries you could get. Don’t look at me, either, Sweetiebelle. I don’t know the first healing spell.”
“That’s OK... maybe I can get my cutie mark in taking care of the invalid.” the foal said, letting Grapes into the shop and locking the door behind her.
“Is it something you enjoy doing?” Grapes asked, as she put the trunk down beside the door. “Anyway, planning on having a small Nightmare Night get-together at my place. Going to invite Rarity and Rainbow to come, too. Pretty sure Applejack is going to bring Applebloom. See if you could drag Scootaloo along. You, Bloom, and Scoots can go with Earshot to show him how Trick-or-Treating works.”
“OOH! Rarity’s been working REALLY hard on a Nightmare Night costume for herself. I know she’ll wanna show it off. “
“Why am I not surprised?” Grapes chuckled. “So... upstairs?”
“Yep. She’s in the big room to the left. My room, oops, I mean the guest room is to the right... and the bathroom is at the end of the hall.”
“Good to know if I need to use the facilities,” Grapes said as she trotted upstairs. She went to the left, and knocked on the door.
“Mmmmuhhh?” came a groan from somewhere beyond the door. “Sweetiebelle? You know you may come and go from my room as the situation sees fit. And right now I could use another lemonade. Plenty of ice, thank you.”
“I’ll go down, and get you some lemonade, Rarity, but anything else you’re on your own,” Grapes quipped, casually. “I’ll be right back.” Grapes went downstairs, chuckling to herself, fetched Rarity’s lemonade, with plenty of ice, and came back up.
Rarity was sitting up in her bed, elegantly simple white cotton sheets were draped across her form as she sat there in her robe, looking apologetically at Sour Grapes.
“Please forgive me, Grapes. I had NO idea that Sweetiebelle believed I was well enough to entertain visitors. Magical overtaxing aside I feel rested enough to sit up and talk, and am pleased that somepony has decided to bring well-wishes and not more dresswork. Oh, why is it when one is unable to perform that is when the demand is highest?”
“I suppose it’s because they realize something special is there, then it’s not available,” Grapes observed. “Lemonade, with plenty of ice. Good to see you’re doing better. Twilight’s still a bit horn-sore, and is missing her magic greatly.”
“Mine is aching quite smartly right now but other than some nausea and lingering nightmares of... well for some reason I keep dreaming of buildings with my designs being used to shade windows instead of awnings. A ghastly thought and yet strangely compelling.”
“Well considering you were using awnings to make fashions, yesterday, that’s not really surprising,” Grapes observed.
“I did WHAT?” she asked looking quite shocked before blinking twice and leaning forwards. “How did they turn out?”
“Well mine turned out fine. I’ve now got a rather spiffy looking dress done in green-striped canvas. It lacked buttons, of course, but I think you were a little too far in the zone, as it twere,” Grapes said, thoughtfully. “What it lacks from being made of finer materials, it makes up for in durability. And it is rather comfortable.”
“Oh... well that’s good. I can only hope the rest of my works are as well-received. So...“ she sipped at the lemonade “I am guessing since she did not leave with the rest of us that Twilight is under your tender mercies. Probably more competent than my own nursemaid but she IS trying. I’ve done my best to keep possible mishaps at a minimum by sending her out on errands such as takeout or delivering apologies to my customers. It is good to have somepony looking out for your well-being though.”
“True. Myself, I felt that I couldn’t let that poor dragon handle a severe case of magical exhaustion alone,” Grapes said. “Twilight’s case would be extreme, and the nightmares would be just as extreme. Poor guy would have been overwhelmed.”
“Oh yes... Sweetie did say she saw her floating about like... some floaty thing.”
“A balloon, perhaps?” Grapes suggested. “I did mention it to you. You probably don’t remember my mentioning that Twilight was seeing the universe...”
“The Universe? How... no. No, I don’t believe I wish to know,” the white unicorn giggled “It’s hard to picture Twilight floating about like a balloon. If she could do that then one can only imagine just how painful her magical overtaxing is right now. Poor thing.”
“Nopony was themselves, that day. You were creating clothes from awnings, Pinkie had gone into a state beyond hyper, Rainbow Dash was making rainbooms for... I don’t know how long, and Fluttershy was herding together all the eligible bachelors,” Grapes rattled off, chuckling at the memory.
“Wait... What? FLUTTERSHY?” Rarity’s jaw dropped as what Grapes said sank in past the layers of polite small-talk to her taste buds for good juicy gossip. “You mean to say she was gathering up stallions? Our little shy Fluttershy? What was she doing? Using a riding crop?”
“Yes, actually. How did you know that?” Grapes asked. “If it was yours... Well you’re kinkier than I ever thought possible, and that would explain where she got it.”
“I... I... Well I NEVER!” she huffed, turning her head to the side in exaggerated act of being indignant.
“You have to admit you trotted right into that one, Rarity,” Grapes said with a smirk. “Eyes wide open, even.”
Rarity, with her nose up in the air, glanced back at Grapes then broke out into a wide grin and giggled.
“I suppose you are right... I certainly incriminated myself with that statement. Actually yes... I do happen to have such an item. I happen to have a classic Equestrian ‘Riding’ outfit complete with scarlet jacket, black helmet, boots and yes... a riding crop... which now that I think of it was all borrowed by Fluttershy about a week ago. She said she needed it for... research? I thought she just wished to... you know... play dress-up at home. Every lady needs some time to try on outfits in private, yes? I’m surprised she put one item to better use... how many did she collect? Five? Ten? A Dozen?”
“I didn’t count, honestly. She even got Short Round, and Dustbin. I managed to stop her before she grabbed Big Mac.”
“Well we can’t say she wasn’t thorough, can we now? So, how did those poor stallions take their domestication by our empowered Filly?”
“Surprisingly well, honestly. But then Fluttershy is always so sweet, and she was a good host, despite being overcaffeinated.”
“That figures. Still it is a thought that baffles the mind. Fluttershy with a herd of strapping young stallions in a paddock. Their new mistress, trotting back and forth with a riding crop, eyeing them hungrily... I honestly don’t know whether to feel astonished or jealous.”
“I felt a bit shocked, myself, but then I saw her chasing the stallions, yelling that they are going to love her, and said stallions fleeing in terror,” Grapes casually said, deadpan. “Then she was feeling, in her words, ‘urpy’ when I caught her en route to herd Big Mac... Then she contributed to the fertilization of my mother’s begonias with the remains of her lunch.”
“Oh. Well. If I too... contributed, as it were, would you accept my apology?” Grapes chuckled, shaking her head.
“That poor begonia patch. I’d almost would have to accept your apology, Rarity. Considering I was the first... contributor, as it were,” Grapes observed, obviously laughing at herself. “I’m really really really afraid of heights.”
“Oh dear. Then it’s a good thing Rainbow Dash is staying with me. You won’t have to bribe a pegasus to air-lift you to her home to visit. She’s just down the hallway.”
“All right. Oh. Also, I’m holding a more sedate, and toned down Nightmare Night party for everypony involved in the calamity, since Twilight and I figured that nopony who went through it would be up for the big town shindig,” said Grapes, gesturing toward the window to indicate the town square. “Got some decorations from Pinkie, so she’ll feel like she’s at least contributing something to a party. Still got to pick up some snacks, but that should not be too hard.”
“That actually sounds wonderful. I have a costume I was SO looking forwards to showing off. Give me a moment to stand and get my cane and I shall join you to see what Rainbow Dash’s expression is. Poor thing has been doing little more than sleeping since the event. She only awakens long enough to have a drink, relieve herself and then hobble back to bed.”
“Well doing consecutive sonic rainbooms over an unaccountable span of time was probably very hard on her. The gravitational forces, and atmospheric resistance probably took its toll on her musculoskeletal system,” the winemaker observed casually.
Rarity grunted in a very un-ladylike manner and finding a cane that would have looked more appropriate in a chorus line, got to her hooves and led Grapes down the hallway. The unicorn peered through the doorway on the right and then pulled away.
“Oh dear.”
“‘Oh dear’?” Grapes asked, peeking into the room.
The guest room was very different from Rarity’s own room. Where her personal chamber was a testament to femininity which included elaborate drapes, exquisitely carved wooden furniture and a four-poster canopy bed, the guest room was very utilitarian. The walls were a soft but neutral blue with no pictures, a simple window with white curtains shone light in from the morning sun. For furniture it had a very ordinary single-pony bed, a bed table, an armoire and a Dresser with a large mirror. All in all Grapes could understand why Rarity made this room so spartan in comparison to the rest of her home. She had no idea who would be staying in it and was trying to keep the decor as neutral as possible to give them a feeling of comfort. But that really wasn’t what had caused Rarity to lower her voice to a hush.
Rainbow Dash was SERIOUSLY flaked out in the small bed, snoring softly, and there next to the bed was Sweetibelle.
And a makeup kit.
Rarity was peeking through the doorway with Grapes now, shaking with suppressed giggles as her sister was applying liberal quantities of make-up to the one mare in Ponyville who swore off anything ‘girly’ years ago.
“This won’t end well,” Grapes whispered.
“Oh no...” Rarity sniggered. “It certainly will not... we may have to intervene should... oops. Too late.”
One eye on the pegasus was sleepily opening, then the other. Their owner blinked the stickiness in them away as Sweetiebelle continued to apply blush to her patient. A slow recognition entered Dash’s eyes as they now widened in shock and outrage, rotating slowly to regard the filly with a suppressed anger.
“Sweetiebelle?”
“Oh Hi Rainbow Dash.”
“What... what are you doing?”
“Making you look pretty.”
“Uh huh.”
“Yeah.”
“So I’m in a tea-induced coma and you think I needed to look pretty?”
“Yep. You never wear make-up and I thought maybe that’s because you don’t know how pretty you can look with it, and so I thought I might be able to get my cutie mark in beautician stuff.”
“Uh huh.”
There was a long silence between them as Sweetiebelle added lipstick to Dash’s muzzle.
“You are SO lucky I actually like you kid. Could you do me a solid and get me something to wash this stuff off with?”
“Well... ok. It’ll have to be cold cream though. Rarity likes waterproof makeups.”
She trotted happily out the door, past the two mares and down into the washroom, leaving Dash all alone. The Pegasus moaned as she slowly rolled herself out of bed, popping sounds seemed to come from every joint in her body when she moved but with the stubbornness usually found only in earth ponies she got to her hooves and pulled her face up and level with the mirror on the dresser.
“Great Celestia on a Bicycle! I look like a circus clown!”
“That’s an understatement.” Rarity quietly agreed to Grapes under her breath as they watched the show.
Grapes merely snerked, as she watched Dash.
The Cyan pony leaned in closer to the mirror to examine Sweetiebelle’s work. She didn’t just blow her stack like the two voyeurs thought she might but was slowly and carefully looking over everything that was done. Tilting her head at different angles to scrutinise the makeup caked on her face.
“Ugh. Not really my thing,” she concluded. “How does Rarity make this paint job look so good? It’s like smearing colored mud on your face to me. Well...” She leaned in forwards and smirked. “Okay. The eyeshadow is okay. The color actually does something for me. Huh. This stuff REALLY brings out my eyes.” Rarity and Grapes watched in stunned shock as Dash struck a pose or two and batted her eyes at the mirror and spoke in a voice no doubt inspired by Rarity’s. “I do so ADORE this color, my darling. I have always felt my eyes have always been my FINEST feature. Perhaps I shall wear it the next time I sip tea with the Princess.” Grapes covered her mouth with her hooves, her shoulders shaking with silent laughter.
“Yeah, Dash, that really suits you,” Grapes said out loud.
Dash’s head snapped around like it was spring-loaded and she stared in horror at her friends seeing her in her moment of ‘shame’. She recoiled in terror, trying to block their view by waving her hooves in front of her face. “Don’t look at me! DON’T LOOK AT MEEEEE!”
“Oh for the love of... And they call ME a drama queen!”
“You are,” Grapes quipped.
“Well... yes. But at least I am not so amateurish at it,” she declared as she managed to settle her giggles and trot into the room to where Dash was now trying to huddle in the corner. “Please, Rainbow Dash. We know this is Sweetiebelle’s work. You are far too... ur, ‘awesome’ to wear makeup so irresponsibly?”
“Yeah. I’m not the biggest fan of makeup, myself, but even I know it’s meant to be used sparingly in order to enhance your natural features... and cover up any blemishes,” Grapes said, oh-so-casually cutting her eyes toward Rarity.
“Yes. Yes. And you did have a point about the eyeshadow. It does bring out the color in your eyes. Perhaps you should keep some on hand for... special occasions. Better a little daub here and there rather than looking like... “ she giggled “...Floppy Hooves the Clown.”
“Aw RARITY!” Dash cried out trying to wipe the makeup off of her cheeks.
“Sorry dear. I couldn’t resist.”
“Calm down, Dash. Here comes Sweetiebelle,” Grapes said with a chuckle.
“I got the cold cream, and some hot water and some old towels Rarity uses for Opal. OH hi Rarity.”
“You may leave what you brought with us, Sweetie. We’ll get Dash all cleaned up. It’ll give us something to do that doesn’t require magic.”
“And give me a chance to tell Dash about the Nightmare Night party I’m holding,” Grapes said taking the items from the young filly, carefully.
“Nightmare Night?” Sweetie asked while Dash ceased her ineffectual hoof-rubbing.
“Woah, wait. What was that about Nightmare Night again?”
“I’m holding a small Nightmare Night party for all the victims of the Caffeinated Calamity,” Grapes explained. “Twilight and I both figured that everypony who had drank Redline’s weapon of equine destruction would not be up to attending the big town party.”
Rainbow Dash looked at Grapes a moment then carefully sat herself down on the bed where they could begin cleaning her up.
“You know... after all that craziness that day...” she then gave a sidelong glance at Sweetiebelle with a smirk “And the craziness in here, maybe a quieter Nightmare Night would be good for me. Bet Rarity has enough stuff laying around here that I can come up with a costume. You know.. to get in the spirit. Can I get a lift there too? My wings feel like jello at the moment and I don’t think they’ll be much better by the time of the party.”
“You could try walking, you know,” Grapes quipped. “Unless you think your legs will still feel like jello. If so... I’ll see what I can do. I do have a larger farm cart.”
“Well my wings are like jello, and the rest of me feels... crud I feel like I got put through a garlic press. Squeezed through the holes and come back together. I must’ve been really booking there.”
“You were doing rainbooms, Dash. Over, and over,” Grapes said.
“Really? AWESOME!... ow.”
“Yes. Awesome. Now hold still while we work around your eyes Rainbow Dash.”
“Ok Rarity. So... yeah. I’d love to go to your party Grapes.”
“That sounds great. It’ll be nice to have you all,” Grapes said.
The remainder of Grape’s visit consisted of some jokes at Twilight’s expense, an update to Fluttershy’s condition and scrubbing Rainbow Dash’s face free of any colors that weren’t there to start with. It was a nice visit, but soon Grapes had to leave, and put in an order for some snack foods with the Cakes for her party. She took the time to read over the list that Twilight gave her, to double check things, before she left town, Pinkie’s steamer trunk in tow.
Back on home soil she put the steamer trunk in her barn for safekeeping, only to hear a dull *THUMP* and a sharp cry of surprise from the barn about ten minutes later. She entered to find Nightmare Night decorations on every surface and a very surprised Thistledown tangled up in a cocoon of blue and black streamers.
“What, may I ask the buck just happened?”
“You opened the box,” Grapes said casually. “It was perfectly packed by Pinkie Pie to preposterous proportions.”
“Positively, this package popped me on my posterior from the party... uh... dang... ran out of P words..” he trailed off before looking up at her with a pleading expression “Um... little help? Out of this stuff, not with the rhyming thing.”
“It’s called ‘alliteration’, Thistledown,” Grapes explained as she helped the poor stallion get free of the streamers.
“I’ll keep that in mind the next time I’m not being smothered in decorations.”
“Of course. The lesson, here, is do not open strange boxes,” she mused, as she started to pick up the decor. “These were contributed by Pinkie Pie, since she can’t come and cater the party herself.”
“I thought I smelt the lingering scent of sugar cookies.” he said as he was worked free and the extra decorations were put back in the box. “Figures she would have a party-in-the-box device. I suspect Redline builds her stuff for her.”
“Oh. Dear... That would explain a lot, wouldn’t it?”
“You know... it does. I’ve seen her with this weird... thing that let her fly when Rainbow Dash had a flying friend in town. Freaky Gryphon gal. Very surly. I just stayed out of her way.” Thistledown dropped his voice and said in a hushed tone “Do you know Gryphons even got a word for pony meat?”
“Well, there was a time when Equestria and the Gryphon Kingdom was at war, Thistle,” Grapes said. “That was a long time ago, during the reign of Prince Nebula, but still... I’m sure that both sides were somewhat... uncivilized during that time.”
“Oh. I never knew we had a war with anyone. Guess I slept through that part of class. “
“I’ve probably got a book about it, somewhere,” Grapes muttered absently, as she went over Twilight’s list again.
“Yeah. Still.. to know what it means when they refer to us as basashi when they feel like insulting us... it kinda makes me wish I never took conversational Griffin in school.”
“... Wait... ‘basashi’ is Griffin for ‘pony meat’?” Grapes asked looking startled.
“Yeah. Like you said it’s an old word, but it’s still very active in their language as a derogatory expression towards ponies.”
“You don’t remember? We had a pony, here, who called himself ‘basashi’,” Grapes uttered. “That huge Freerunner.”
“Him? Oh yeah... I never asked his name. Seemed like a nice fellow though, even if he looked like he could take your head off with just one hoof. Guess when you’re built like a brick outhouse you can call yourself whatever you want and get away with it.”
“I guess so. Welp, we’re set up for Nightmare Night. Just got to go and invite AJ. Wanted to get this home, before headed over there. How’s our guest doing?”
“Well I checked up on her a few times. She was reading for awhile, then sleeping, reading, sleeping, sleeping, reading... and now sleeping. Her book is like a little fort the way it’s propped up on her horn right now. I sketched out a picture to commemorate the moment. Wanna see?”
“You’re an artist?” Grapes asked, curiously, as she gestured for him to show her the sketch.
He complied readily, pulling a small notebook from his outrageously purple shock of mane and flipped it past a series of photo-accurate pencil sketches of the Vineyards before finding the one he was looking for. There was Twilight, on her back in bed, the book resting over her face, and yes... her horn propped it up like a little tent.
“I know I’m no Reinbrant but how’s it look?”
“That’s... really quite good,” Grapes said, sounding astonished. “You have quite the talent, Thistledown.”
“You really think so? My parents always said I should focus less on drawing and more on getting a real job... like working in their Sandwich shop in Manehatten.”
“Well that’s typical parents for you. Can I ask you how you got your cutie mark?”
He glanced back at his flank and gave the thistle-shaped icon a rub, smearing it.
“Sure, but it’s a short story. I don’t got one.” he said matter-of-factually.
“That’s kind of rare,” Grapes observed. “I suppose you haven’t, really, found your special talent, just yet.”
“Pretty much what I was thinking.” he agreed, pulling some color sticks from his mane and did a touch-up job on the Thistle. “I never really felt like I needed one to tell me who I am, in fact the only reason I do this is to keep ponies from staring. And to keep mom and dad quiet. There. Good as new.”
The ersatz-cutie mark was quite well done, looking virtually indistinguishable from the real deal. There was no doubt that Thistledown had a lot of artistic ability. She had seen his work with the wagon earlier that year and flipping through the sketchbook was like finding a secret stash of forgotten treasures. He certainly shouldn’t be making sandwiches for a living, and just toiling in her vineyard was a disservice to such talent. There had to be some way to make use of him that went a little past picking and carrying produce.
“Hey, Thistle,” Grapes said thoughtfully. “How would you like to be in charge of labels and advertising for the vineyard?” He straightened up and looked at her in surprise.
“Are you serious?”
“Yes, I am serious. You’ve got a real talent. I’m not sure how good a designer you are, but you are quite the artist, and could definitely update the labels with a better image of the Vineyard than what’s on them, currently. It would be wasted, keeping you stuck as a produce picker.”
“Well I admit picking produce isn’t what I call fulfilling or intellectually stimulating, but it has been the most honest work I’ve put in in years. I don’t see labels and advertising being a full-time gig but share that out with the manual labor and you’d be getting your bits out of me. So... yeah. I’d like to give it a try.”
“Glad to have you aboard, Thistledown,” Grapes said with a grin, shaking his hoof.
==========================
Sour Grapes was astonished at the sheer variety of Pinkie’s Nightmare Night decorations. Thistledown’s inadvertent ‘decorating’ of the barn with them was a blessing in disguise. It allowed her to see it all at once rather than having to carefully unpack everything. Everything from darkly colored balloons to books on Nightmare Night themed party games was laid out before her... in a chaotic way. She was able to cherry pick... or should that be GRAPE pick what she liked most and could find a use for from the mess and then pack away what was, in a word, superfluous. Twilight was a good help, despite being in bed, sleepy and unable to muster the strength to levitate a pencil. Grapes discussed what she had, the yard space she was allotting and Twilight was able to give some good ideas... and a few that Grapes patiently turned down as they were a little TOO academic for anyone not particularly interested in Equestrian history to really ‘get’. Still she was good company, and she was a particularly good-natured critic for some of Thistledown’s initial ideas for some new label concepts. Grapes had to admit that in spite of his usually flippant attitude, Thistledown seemed to really be throwing himself into this opportunity to put his artistic drive to good use.
At the end of the day, chores were done, decorations were ready to go up and guests put to bed. As Twilight and Spike drifted off to sleep and Owlwishes rose to take the night shift Grapes dragged herself to a fitful sleep of her own. She had flashes of dreams involving Royal Guards arriving at her door to present six urns of ashes to her. One sprouting large cloud-gray wings and fluttering off before she had a chance to take it into her hooves.
She awoke in her guest room, upset and angry at her own overly creative subconscious. She got out of bed for a drink when she heard light flapping from outside in the yard. Moving quietly to the window she watched as six moonlit figures descended from the sky, landing in her yard. They were BACK! They were filthy with soot and grime, their bodies had small burns in places and their body language betrayed their emotional and physical exhaustion but they were back! She wanted to run out then and there and greet them, but there in the quiet of the waning hours between night and dawn she could see a sort of ritual going on. Without a word they went to the dining table and laid out their gear, Queenie began operating the pump, filling the Trough with fresh water while Earshot disappeared into the bunkhouse only to return shortly afterwards with towels and cakes of soap.
Nopony spoke as they cleaned one another and applied healing balm to their wounds. They scrubbed their gear free of the filth that ash and soot had caked them with. Goggles were polished, their scarves and bags were cleaned and the filters inside of their muzzle-covering masks were swapped out with fresh ones. Even from her perch, Grapes could tell how weary they were and yet, their discipline was great enough to make certain that both their equipment and one another would be in decent shape to be used for the next emergency.
The first rays of the dawn began to illuminate the yard, the Storm-Riders had finally finished and they slowly dragged themselves to the bunkhouse where they no doubt would sleep at least until noon... and Grapes would let them. Heck... SHE was tempted to go back to sleep now that she knew her Storm-Riders were home safe. Grapes sighed, and trotted downstairs, not giving into the temptation. It was about time for her to start her day, and though she was going to go about her chores in as quiet a manner as possible, she still had them to do. Another day of pre-winter preparation had to be completed. Another day of decorating had to be done. And lastly, a hearty lunch had to be cooked. They were sure to have not eaten well during the disaster, and would need to regain their strength.
As Grapes directed the green and magenta form of Thistledown to his section of grape vines to cover with insulating hay, she began to wonder about her depth of feeling toward the Storm Riders, and Stormfront in particular. They had began to feel like family. Like she had gained four brothers and a sister, and a kindly uncle. Stormfront, however, presented a different conundrum all together.
If the reactions from the local pegasai mares was any indication, Stormfront was a decently handsome Pegasus. She of course could only judge his looks from an earth pony or unicorn standard and well... he sure as hay wasn’t UGLY, that’s for sure. Nevermind his personality, which was easy-going, and considerate, those eyes, that smile... Grapes remembered how her cousin Purebrook had answered her rather naive question she had asked at one reunion: You could tell that you were in love when all the songs started to make sense. This was what Grapes suspected was happening, but she was not going to go for any great declarations just yet. For one thing, she did not really have time, just now. And for another thing, she was unsure if Stormfront felt the same. She was not going to risk losing a friend, and one of her best workers - and possibly all his pals too - just because she was infatuated.
Infatuation.
That had to be it.
She would get over it, soon.
She was sure of it.