//------------------------------// // Twist // Story: Special Talents // by Elric of Melnipony //------------------------------// Twist Some ponies really knew how to hurt feelings. Twist knew she should just ignore all of the mean comments from Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon, but that was easier said than done. They could make their words cut into you, and they seemed to want to use this ability on just about everypony in class. After school today had been above average in nastiness, with the two of them belittling Twist and Apple Bloom for not having cutie marks. As they continued walking together, Twist knew that she didn't really want to talk about what had just happened, and it seemed that Apple Bloom felt the same way. Each took some comfort in simply being with a friend for a while. Before long, they reached the turn-off for Sweet Apple Acres and parted ways. On an ordinary day, Twist would have gone straight home at that point. Instead, she took a different path, one that took her towards the center of Ponyville. There was only one way she could feel better right now, and that had to do with the one thing she had in common with Diamond Tiara: each of them was a daddy's girl. It was time to visit her father at work. Ponyville's town hall was circular, and the open area surrounding it was fairly rounded as well. It was still called “the town square” for reasons that were unclear to Twist, however. Various structures made up the perimeter of the square, including a building that had formerly been a single-pony home. That was her destination, the location of her father's business. He would be the first to admit that it wasn't fancy, but at least he wasn't cluttering the family home with his work, and he could rightfully boast that he was just across from the town hall. On each side of the mailbox was a modest plaque that said “T. Criollo, Consultation and Coordination”. The larger, brighter, friendlier sign in the front window said “Takes Two? Talk to Tango!” Twist's father had the rather unusual special talent of putting the right ponies together. The average pony might have settled for a career of matchmaking – which Tango did as a sideline business – but he had the brilliance to put his talent to use in many more areas. He matched picky sellers with the right buyers, artists with patrons, inventors with investors, and on and on, all for a fee (or sometimes a percentage). It had been pointed out to him that he could probably be very rich very easily by moving to Canterlot, or Manehattan, or Fillydelphia. He was a Ponyville native, however, and was quite content to remain in his home town and raise his daughter away from the big city. As it was, he was still pretty comfortable. Twist didn't have all of the luxuries that Diamond Tiara did, but she certainly wasn't lacking, either. Twist checked the mailbox to be helpful and found that it was empty at the moment. She opened the front door, walked inside, and saw that her father still hadn't hired anypony to work for him. What could have been a reception area was essentially useless. She shook her head and headed down the hall to a particular door. Inside, she found an earth pony stallion sitting on a cushion behind a low desk, examining a densely-printed piece of paper through his glasses. He had a pale yellow coat. His mane and tail were darker, almost golden, but with an unfortunate amount of frizziness and curliness to them. When he looked up and saw Twist, he hopped up beside the desk, reared up on his hind hooves, and began to gyrate frantically. “Wellll, got a new dance and it goes like this!” He followed with a string of nonsense filler words. “And the name of the dance is the Peppermint Twist!” He rattled off another sequence of nonsense that may or may not have been identical to the first. There is a set of tones known to all daughters throughout all universes, tones that hold many meanings at once. They mean, “Cut it out.” They mean, “Here he goes again.” They mean, “I hope my friends never see this.” But deep down, they also mean, “I secretly like this, because I love you even when you're goofy, and when you stop for good that's when I'll know I'm not a little girl anymore.” Twist used those tones now. “Dad-dy!” Tango returned to all four hooves. “Yes?” “Daddy, you're a terrible singer.” She was often mistaken for having a lisp; ponies who listened closely could tell that the letter S might have a softer sound than others when she spoke, but it was there. “Championship dancer, though.” “Since when?” Her father looked at the clock on the wall. “Finished up about ten minutes ago. It was thrilling, you should have seen it. They're going to mail me my trophy.” Twist was fighting not to laugh; she was winning so far, but couldn't hold out forever. “And when did you come up with that silly song?” Tango looked at the clock again, then looked up as if calculating. “Tribesday.” “You've been holding on to that since last week?” She could hardly believe what she was hearing. “Yep. And you only think it's silly because you haven't heard all of it. I'm especially fond of the forty-fifth verse. Although, to be honest, verse sixty-three could probably use another revision.” She dropped to her haunches and started to giggle. Laughter 1, Twist 0. Her father, of course, was a stallion who played dirty; he went straight for the ribs in a fiendish tickling maneuver that soon had her on her back and nearly out of breath. He allowed her to recover a bit before he spoke again. “What brings you by today, Twist-a-loo?” She rolled over and sat up, facing away from him. “I got made fun of for not having a cutie mark.” She was immediately dragged backward by her father's forehooves, which then wrapped around her. “Oh, sweetie, you'll get yours soon. It'll probably be here before you know it.” Twist enjoyed the hug for a moment, then broke away so she could face her father again while they spoke. “Why can't it just happen?” Tango sighed. “Getting a cutie mark isn't like being struck by lightning.” He paused. “No, wait, I take that back. In some ways, it is like getting struck by a bolt of lighting.” Twist's expression was as obvious as a light-up “I'm puzzled!” billboard by the side of the road. “How do you know what that's like?” Tango reached out and took his daughter's face in his hooves. “Sweetie, I'm telling you this because I'm your father and I love you.” He took a deep breath. “Never donkey on a bet with a pegasus.” He pulled his hooves away and mimed some twitches for her. This, of course, set off another round of giggles for Twist. She regained control pretty quickly, but then her father opened his mouth again. “The pegasi have a saying: 'Revenge is a dish best served at high voltage.' ZAP!” He twitched some more and joined his little girl in having a good laugh. Twist sat next to her father and leaned up against him. “Daddy, how did you know I needed cheering up before I even said anything?” “There's only one pony in the whole world who might possibly know you better than I do, and your mother isn't here.” “But how did you know?” “My little Twist-a-loo coming to the office sounds different from somepony coming here for business. And I can tell the difference between 'stopping by to say hi' hooves and 'had a bad day' hooves.” Twist tilted her head upward to get closer to Tango's eye level, nuzzling his neck as she did so. “You're pretty smart.” “Be sure and tell your mother that. I think she only married me for my looks,” he said, patting his tightly-curled mane. That earned him another giggle. “So what were you going to tell me about cutie marks?” “Oh. Right! Well, the way that it's not like a lightning bolt is that your cutie mark is based on something that's been around a while, whether it's a skill you've been working years to perfect, or a natural ability that you've had all along.” “That makes sense.” “The way that it is like a lightning bolt is that the mark appears when you have a sudden realization. And that realization can happen at a level below everyday thought. One way or another, you finally figure out what your special talent is, and cutie mark magic takes effect.” There was a long pause. Then, “Daddy, are any of your friends unicorns?” “It doesn't work that way, sweetie. Not even Princess Celestia can change this magic.” “Oh.” For some time after that – neither of them was sure how long – they were just together, father and daughter, each enjoying the fact that the other was there. Eventually, Tango leaned over and kissed Twist on the top of her head. “Feel better?” he asked. Twist was thoughtful. “Well... I still want my cutie mark.” “No, I meant about being made fun of by those little... those little...” Twist didn't even ask who he was referring to, how he knew who to blame, or what he was stopping himself from saying. “Daddy, I've heard you say those words before.” He put a hoof atop one of hers. “That doesn't mean you have to hear me say them again. I'll just say that somepony should talk to those fillies' parents and leave it at that.” Twist leaned in against her father again. “I do feel better about that part, thank you.” “Let me see if I can help you feel better about the other part. I have an idea that will help you realize just how many different possibilities there are for your cutie mark. I want you to go home and think about all of the things that you're good at. Now, I realize that this will take a long, long time, because there are oh-so-many things that my little girl is very good at, but I think this will be helpful to you. And – here's the important part – and I want you to do this while you're making candy. Making candy calms you down, it clears your mind, and it's tasty. I wouldn't say no to some peppermint sticks when I get home this evening. Oh, and your mother got more of whatever that stuff is that lets you make wintergreen mints. If you make some of that, I like mine light on the winter, heavy on the green. Got all that?” Twist repeated the instructions, nodding slowly several times as she did so. “Go home, make some candy, think about stuff I'm good at – like science, and math, and history.” Tango smiled. “Right. Just like when I was waiting for my cutie mark, I thought a lot about singing.” She poked him with a hoof. “Daddy, you're terrible at singing!” He was laughing so hard that she couldn't even get a proper goodbye kiss until he was done. Nopony had ever introduced Twist to the concept of meditation; that was for the loopy ponies of Coltorado, not the sort of ponies who lived in Ponyville. But if they had, she would have recognized the description of the desired effect as being something like what she felt when she was deeply into her candy-making. In other words, her father had given her good advice once again. As she stepped away from her first batch of candy to let it cool, she realized that she really could have hurt herself. She had spent several minutes going over a mental list of school subjects instead of thinking about what she was doing. But then again... she never really was at risk, was she? She had done this so many times before. She was so familiar with the steps. She didn't really need to think about it. She was good at this. It was just so... easy. She galloped to the cabinet where the best cookware was kept, pulled out one of the shiniest pans, and looked at herself sideways in the distorted reflection. “Of course!”