//------------------------------// // A Rough Tuesday // Story: Complaints Department // by TheDarkStarCzar //------------------------------// There is no recourse to deal with unsatisfactory cutiemarks. That's a necessary fact because if there was such a thing, it would admit that there's an intelligence and a plan behind them, and if that were the case, the option of dissatisfaction would arise and the pastoral order of Equestria as a whole would be thrown into chaos. Honor and duty aside, how many amongst us would not protest the toilsome muck and mire of the ditchdigger's lot, if between that and the royal cupcake taster's position, stood only the arbitrary judgment of some capricious power? If any great deal of thought was given to the matter, one would see cutiemarks for the artworks that they are; however, refuting the notion that they spring from a pony's own psyche, one would find that they are stylistically cohesive, where variation as infinite as the creative diversity of pony's souls should be the case. This alone points to that troubling notion that somewhere, somehow, there is some entity in charge of these vexatious marks, and, necessarily, of our fates which they do foretell. I do fear for the day when this revelation is universally acknowledged as self evident, for it presages nothing short of revolution against the entrenched order. -Clover the Clever, from her private diaries. It was ten in the morning and Derpy Hooves had already managed to lose her job. In point of fact, the job had lost her, seeing as how she'd been substituting for the lead goose in a formation and her flock had peeled off behind her, she knew not when. They were undoubtedly marooned on a lake somewhere, unable to continue on without their lead goose, or a fairly reasonable substitute. It wouldn't be hard to find them save that they'd been flying over a section of north central Equestria that had the nickname, land of ten thousand lakes. If one were to count the pools, ponds, streams, large puddles and outright morasses on which a goose might see fit to settle it drove the number considerably higher than that, well out of the bounds of what she could realistically investigate by herself, though she'd tried for just long enough to finally realize the task's utter futility. She'd had a bad feeling about the job, but Fluttershy had begged her to take it on. She'd been too busy with a sick badger to see to the task herself, and Derpy, perpetually strained for bits, had been easily coerced with a promise of a simple, relaxing flight. The whole grey goose species was endangered, largely because they were so humble that when their lead goose was unfortunately lost, they couldn't find amongst them one willing to elevate themselves above their brothers for fear of alienating them. The whole lot of them were likely to polite themselves to death, but that was no great surprise, they were Caneighdian grey geese, after all. Thus she was hired as a fill in grey goose and had easily been accepted in the role by her charges, but now that she'd lost the flock, she feared they'd remain just where they'd lit and never make it to their breeding grounds in the South. She'd tried to remedy the situation, asking advice from the Equestrian Wildlife Society, her employer, but they'd blamed her for not looking back to check on her flock often enough and fired her outright, citing gross incompetence for their reason. Derpy lied aloud to herself, but in fact she did know what went wrong, just what went wrong. It was her, same as always. She'd failed her employer, the geese, and most damningly, an ever forgiving Fluttershy, who would likely be forced away from her ill friend to clean up after her. A pony can blame the world for treating her unfairly only so many times until the realization that it was, in fact, her own fault sets in, and even if she still couldn't admit it aloud, in her heart, she knew. Yes, deep down inside, in a place that Derpy's unwavering smile never reached, she knew, and even if she should have been more careful, should have paid better attention, should have known better so very many times she could still feel the injustice of it all. It was hard to comprehend, difficult to quantify and outright impossible to articulate, but sometimes when she was thinking about all the jobs she'd had and lost, she caught glimpses in the corner of her mind of the very shape of her frustrations. It looked, for all the world, like a cluster of bubbles. Huddled between discarded crates in a filthy alley was a little yellow filly who would vehemently deny that she'd run away from home because, in her mind, she no longer had a home. Somewhere deep down in her soul she'd betrayed her home and family. She must have, else what justification could be put forth for the abomination tattooed on her flank? Involuntarily as it might be, she was too ashamed to let anypony see her, so she'd donned some worn and grease spattered denim coveralls, and run for town. It would be an hour yet before she was missed for certain but the train wouldn't arrive for another three so she was hiding and hoping her luck held out. It happens that it did not. "Whoopsidoo!" Derpy exclaimed as she tripped over the little filly's tail and planted her face firmly against the smooth cobblestone. With stumbling difficulty she reclaimed her footing, and stood, swaying slightly while she waited for her head to regain it's usual crude semblance of order. When she looked down to see what had tripped her up she saw a red maned filly in dirty coveralls trying to make herself as small as possible between a pair of discarded boxes. Derpy guiltily thought that she must have hurt the foal as her eyes were watering such that they were on the verge of overtopping their bounds and inundating her cheeks with their salty torrent. Matted tracks in her fur hinted that she'd been troubled before being assaulted by Derpy's clumsy hooves, "Oh, hi Apple Bloom, I didn't see you there! Are you okay?" Apple Bloom nodded, choking back her emotions and hoping this interaction would be swiftly concluded, "Are you playing box fort?" Apple Bloom shook her head, "Hide and seek?" Again the little filly indicated that wasn't it either, "Well unless you're running away from home, I'm stumped." Apple Bloom gasped at seemingly being found out by Derpy, of all ponies. "Maybe you should play somewhere else, where ponies won't trip on you?" Derpy said helpfully. "Maybe you should watch where you're goin'." Apple Bloom growled. Derpy nodded, acceding that this was also true, "There could have just as easily been a board with a rusty nail in it and you'd've stepped right on it, or... or a snake! What if'n I'd been a snake? I coulda' bit you just now, then where would you be? Snakebit, that's where." Derpy bobbed her head in agreement, it really was something she needed to work on. It seemed like she was always stumbling over one thing or another. Usually it wasn't fillies. Her own little Dinky was agile as a cat and knew to stay safely out from under her mother's plodding hooves, "You're right Apple Bloom, I'll try real hard not to step on you when you're a snake or a board with a rusty nail in it, I promise." "Say what now?" Apple Bloom cocked her head. This wasn't the way she'd expected a full grown mare to react to her outburst, not that she'd put much thought into it before she'd snapped at Derpy, who was now looking at her expectantly with her wobbly eyes. Generally an adult would either tell her off and threaten to tell her family how she'd been acting, or simply react with disgust and walk away. Derpy, though, Derpy was different. She'd seen and heard enough to understand this obliquely but it had never really clicked in the forefront of her brain until just now, "Say, Derpy, what're you doin' cuttin' through this alley anyhow? It's a dead end. It don't go nowhere." "I was just going to check behind..." Suddenly Derpy's smile faltered and when it returned it was a sheepish, skittish thing which she tried to dress up with the extra garnish of a scrunched up nose and screwed shut eyes, "I mean nothing. I was out for a walk, nothing else. No ma'am." When she reopened her eyes Apple Bloom had climbed up on a crate and taken to rummaging through the grey mare's saddlebag to slake her curiosity. Three halves of muffins, a half dozen apples that were either bitten or had unappetizing defects and a greasy bag that surely constituted half an order of hay fries from the cafe lay in Derpy's bag. She started and turned away from the crate causing the filly to pinwheel for balance before dropping back down to the ground with a grunt. Apple Bloom's eyes hardened and she fixed Derpy in her gaze. Derpy either met her gaze haughtily or looked to the cobblestone in a brief fit of depression, according to which eye one were to believe, "You ain't feedin' Dinky off a' this garbage are you?" Derpy was shocked, but slowly her smile returned, thinking of her kind friend and darling little muffin, "I...Um, Carrot Top helps out with Dinky when I'm short on bits. She gets upset when I eat all her food so I was trying to find some for myself." "You can't go around eatin' garbage, Derpy." Apple Bloom flatly stated. "It's not garbage." Derpy protested, "It's good food after you cut the bad parts off and I don't mind. It gives me something to do until I find my next job." "Is that what this is about?" Apple Bloom kindly smiled, "Why don'tcha' go on down to Sweet Apple Acres and ask my sister if she'll give you a job? Seems like she could always use a good, honest worker this time of year." "I don't think that would work." Derpy admitted. She was thinking of a time before Apple Bloom was old enough to remember, when she had worked for the farm. There was the incident after one particular running of the leaves in which Applejack had hired her on to clear the remaining leaves off the South field. It had been neglected during the official proceedings and still bore millions of withered brown leaves. A snow was scheduled shortly and the leaves needed to be removed lest the weight of the ice and snow clinging to them shattered the branches and damaged the trees. Derpy cleared about half of the leaves away before being distracted watching the cows stampede back and forth each time she flew by too low. She'd swooped in once just for the joy of watching them swirl around the corral, their earthy colors and chaotic dance mimicking the leaves as the gusts from her wings plucked them from their branches. When she got close enough to see the real panic in their eyes, guilty remorse overwhelmed her. She landed on the fence and tried to calm them but she couldn't be heard over their clamor and lowing and she resorted to yelling for them to calm down which only escalated things further and spooked them beyond all reason. The cows exploded outwards. A small number trampled the fence and broke for the orchards while others retreated through the barn itself, their reckless passage eroding the barn's supporting structure and causing the hayloft to collapse down into the milking stalls which pushed the walls outward and effectively decimated the whole structure. While Applejack, after visibly fighting back a fit of anger, told Derpy that cows were easily provoked and not to worry, it hadn't been her fault, she also sent her home and hired another Pegasus to finish clearing the leaves. After Applejack had seemingly forgotten, she'd asked Derpy, in her capacity as a weathermare, to water a section of orchard that had somehow been missed. Flooding and several lightning struck trees had somehow been the result of her zeal to get it right for Applejack this time. It wouldn't have happened if she hadn't been trying so hard, Derpy rationalized uselessly. The most recent incident had Applejack at the Equestrian Parcel Service office bawling out everypony unlucky enough to be within earshot. She'd shipped a case of Zap Apple jam to the Princesses in Canterlot and somepony had dropped and broken them. That's bad enough, considering the value of Zap Apple jam and it's intended recipients, but the perpetrator had scooped up the jam and poured it into fresh jars. Hygienically speaking that was poor practice, but more than that it happened that she hadn't strained the glass out as carefully as she'd thought and all three princesses, the captain of the guard and another third of a dozen high ranking ponies had suffered, to varying degrees, for it. Even after explanations were made and a case for each tainted jar given in recompense Applejack feared her reputation amongst the highest echelons of Equestrian society were irreparably harmed. The ensuing investigation brought Derpy to the boss' office. Applejack's tirade went on unabated for half an hour before Derpy entered, and it was brought to a halt as soon as she had. Damningly, Applejack realized who it was, sighed with deep resignation and told her it wasn't her fault and not to worry about it, even though it entirely and conspicuously was her fault. That's when she realized just how Applejack viewed her. A buck up, a charity case and a simpleton who was so pathetic that she could not be culpable for her failings. Derpy's smile faltered and collapsed as she thought of it. No, kind heart or not, she couldn't go to Applejack for a job, that was certain. It was equally certain she wouldn't beg for charity for her own sake. Dinky's, if it came to it, but not for her own. She had a little pride left. But then...maybe...yes maybe if she did an especially good job she could redeem herself in Applejack's eyes and she wouldn't feel a stab of shame every time she saw her, "I don't know, but if you think it's a good idea, maybe you could put in a good word with Applejack?" Apple Bloom deflated, "I'm afraid I can't do that." "Oh. That's okay. I understand." Derpy turned away morosely, prepared to continue on her scavenging mission. "Oh, shucks now, I didn't mean it like that." Apple Bloom scooted out in front of the grey mare, "It's just that I really can't tell her. I would if I could, but I just ain't gonna be able to." "It's okay." Derpy repeated, her forward progress unhindered. "No really, Derpy, it's just...well...I may not be going back there ever again." Apple Bloom said with a sniffle that degraded into a full blown deluge. It had been abstruse in her mind, but once she'd said it aloud it seemed so much more real. Derpy stopped and did what any mother would, simply pressing the filly to her chest until she'd cried herself out. Derpy patted her back and nodded in understanding, "Did you make the Princess eat broken glass too?" Apple Bloom's sniffles hitched and then dried up, "Wait, what now?" She shook her head in confusion, "It's just that I, um, finally got my cutiemark..." "Congratulations!" Derpy's smile returned with a vengeance. "...and it's not really what I expected it to be." Apple Bloom finished. "Oh." Derpy considered the problem for a moment, "So you're going away to do what your cutiemark is telling you?" "No, I just can't." Apple Bloom's features hardened, "I'm going to Canterlot to see the Princess and get her to change it." "Change your cutiemark?" "Yup. After I had the cutiepox I read up on cutiemarks. Only the highest level unicorns are powerful enough to do anything to a cutiemark and have it stick. Even Zecora just about said as much, so I figure the Princess herself is the only one who can help me now. I don't know if'n she will, but I've got to try. The alternative is just too terrible." Apple Bloom revealed and to a large degree it made sense. There seemed to be one big flaw in her plan. "I don't think the Princess is in charge of cutiemarks." Derpy said. "The Princess is in charge of everythin', why wouldn't she be in charge of cutiemarks too?" "Come with me to my house and I'll show you why." Derpy mysteriously replied, but Apple Bloom balked. "I can't go out in public! Somepony'll see me!" She objected. Fortunately Derpy had a solution and, without warning, she nudged Apple Bloom backwards into one of the open crates, eliciting a scared little squeak, then she hammered it's lid back down with a hoof, hefted it onto her back, and took off at a gallop. Ponyvillians cleared a path when they saw the grey pegasus bearing down on them at speed, her load erratically shifting from side to side and seemingly squealing in terror itself.