//------------------------------// // Act II - 10 - All is Vanity // Story: Harmony's Warriors: Iron Mare (Revised Version) // by Avenging-Hobbits //------------------------------// Act II: “Who Are You” Chapter Ten: “All is Vanity” As the limo quietly drove along, Rarity spent most of the time looking out the window as they headed back from the pizzeria. As it turned out, a luxury limo appearing in the parking lot was enough to attract quite the media attention, and they had been forced to discreetly turn back and head back home, despite some spirited protests from Sweetie Belle. Of course, that didn’t deter the horde of paparazzi from taking flight and following close behind the limo. Rarity peered out the tinted window, subconsciously turning the volume of the radio up a little in an attempt to block out the traffic noise outside. Thank heavens I had this sound proofed, she thought, as a particularly heady photographer tried to get closer to the limo, only for Hobbes to take a left turn, losing the reporter mob in the tunnel. Rarity slid back in her seat, looking over towards Written Script, who seemed to be wrapped up in thought, looking out his own window. “What’s wrong ‘Script?” she asked, raising her eyebrow slightly. Written Script glanced towards her, shrugging slightly. “I guess I’m just thinking is all,” he answered plainly. Rarity tilted her head. “About what, exactly?” Written Script shrugged again, “The company...I just feel that you might have been hasty with your decision. Are you sure this is the best way to change things? A complete restructuring?” Rarity bit her lip slightly. She honestly didn’t have an answer for Written Script. She hadn’t really been thinking when she had spoken earlier, but rather speaking the first thoughts that came to her mind. Maybe she had been too hasty, and had basically doomed her entire company to a complete economic collapse. “I mean, if that’s what you think is the right thing to do, then really you can’t be blamed,” Written Script continued, causing Rarity to refocus her attention back on him. “The right thing is the right thing. Pure and simple.” Rarity smiled slightly. “I guess so…” she murmured, glancing towards Sweetie Belle, who was now looking at her with a small smile on her face. “What’s got you all smiley?” Rarity asked bluntly, and Sweetie Belle simply tilted her head. “Well… I’m just happy to see you being less mean and selfish,” she answered meekly, looking down slightly. Rarity shifted in her chair and looked back out the window. “Well... thank you…” she muttered, focusing her attention on the patterns of shadow that formed as they drove under the street lamps. The distinct feeling of something vibrating against her distracted her however, and she looked down to see her phone vibrating, indicating that someone was calling her. She let out a sigh and lifted the phone to her ear. “Hello?” she asked, only to be greeted by Fancy Pants’ cultured accent on the other side. “Rarity, I really do wish to apologize for my outburst earlier this afternoon,” Rarity rolled her eyes slightly, “Really, Fancy?” “Yes really, Rarity. I was acting in an extraordinarily indifferent and coldhearted manner. I should have taken into account the fact that you haven’t exactly had a good year, and might be suffering from emotional duress.” “‘Emotional duress?’ What do you mean? Maybe I just don’t want our company to be so indiscriminate with it’s money Fancy Pants,” Rarity replied, straightening up in her chair. “Is that really so bad?” She could have sworn she heard Fancy Pants let out a grumbling sigh at this, but apparently it didn't affect his answer. “Well, whatever motivated you to have such a sudden and dramatic shift in ideals, the fact remains that you have me very much in the dark about how exactly you intend to enact these changes in a way that is both organized and efficient,” he said and Rarity sighed. Fancy Pants had a point. In all of her emotion and words, she hadn't really thought any of this out. As much as she was reticent to admit, she knew she need to at least have a plan in store for the future. She also knew that, with something as ground shaking as a complete company restructuring, she’d need to be active in the changes, and not simply leave it to Fancy pants to work out as she had in the past. “Well...alright then Fancy, I’ll discuss matters with you. Where do you want to meet?” she finally said, hoping that Fancy Pants would suggest someplace private. “At the Conroy Hotel. I’m speaking with some investors there and they wanted to know if you had a plan. Hence, why I called you,” he answered, and Rarity nodded slightly. “Alright then...Conroy Hotel it is. Just make it quick, I’m honestly just want some rest alright?” she said, hoping it would be a simply affair and she could finally go home and catch some rest. Fancy Pants gave a chuckle from the other side, “Oh, trust me Rarity, it’ll be a very quick affair.” ///////////////////////////// Rarity peered out the tinted window of her limousine towards the line of similar limousines outside. She glanced up at the banner announcing a certain Bruce Mane and his charity ball that was being held at the Conroy Hotel. Rarity’s eyebrows drooped. “Of course Fancy, would call me to a party,” she grumbled. “Probably just wants to have an excuse to talk me out of rearranging the company.” “Or maybe he just doesn’t want you to be so glum,” Written Script countered. Rarity glanced at him, an unsure look on her face. “I mean, there is that possibility right?” Rarity let her shoulders relax, “Maybe I am overthinking it. And I have been feeling glum I suppose.” The limo came to a stop at the entrance of the hotel, only to be once more surrounded by a mob of photographers. Sweetie Belle looked outside, shying away slightly when a reporter thrust himself against the window of the limo, obviously trying to get a photo of what was behind the tinted windows. Written Script bit his lip slightly. “Okay, not to sound repetitive, but are you a hundred percent certain you want to go out there?” he asked, watching as Rarity set about crimping her mane. Rarity nodded. “We’re already here, Written Script. If we were to leave now, we’d probably attract more attention. Let me just get this over with. Mustn't waste the moment,” she replied bluntly, before turning towards the stallion. “Alright then. How do I look?” she asked, and Written Script nodded. “Fine, just fine.” Rarity gave him a thin smile, “Alright then. Off I go I guess.” And with that, she inhaled and opened the door, stepping out into the mob of reporters. Hobbes must have gotten the hint, for as soon as the door was closed, the car lurched forwards, driving off in the direction of Rarity’s home, leaving Rarity alone with the reporters. “Rarity!” Rarity turned at the sound of her voice to see Fancy Pants stride over, a self-assured smile on his face. He spread his forelegs wide and pulled her into an embrace no doubt designed to look as good as possible for the two dozen photographers. “Is this your idea of private Fancy?” Rarity asked, already working to subtly release herself from his grip. “Because I thought private meant a small hotel room and no reporters.” Fancy Pants simply shook his head, seemingly unfazed. “Private or not, you're here aren't you? Doesn’t it feel good to be out and about, among ponies that are of similar worth as you? And what a wonderful suit you're wearing!” he added, changing the subject. Rarity huffed. “It's the same one I had on this afternoon, Fancy. And why am I here? This is a charity ball, not a birthday party,” Rarity replied, flashing a quick smile at a camera pony out of habit. “I this is hardly the place to talk about our company’s future.” Fancy Pants’ raised an eyebrow, gently leading her into the main ballroom, “Well, why not? A lot of the ponies here hold stock in BelleTech, and besides, I thought you wanted a return to normalcy.” He waved down a waiter, the pony trotted forward, pulling out a small notepad. “I’ll have a Bourbon on the rocks, Ms. Belle will be having--” “Just a half glass of champagne please.” Rarity said, cutting Fancy’s order off mid sentence. Fancy cast her a quick glance before turning to the waiter. “What she said.” he stated plainly and the waiter nodded, spinning on his hoof and slithering through the crowd and towards the bar across the ballroom. As soon as the waiter was out of earshot, he turned to Rarity, giving her an incredulous look. “Half a glass? Of Champagne? When did you become such a teetotaler?” he asked, his voice matching his expression perfectly. Rarity rolled her eyes slightly. “Maybe I just don’t feel like getting drunk tonight. Have you thought of that?” Fancy’s expression grew somewhat confused for a moment, and he adjusted his monocle slightly. “I’ve just never seen you limit yourself on anything really… alcohol especially,” he said, a touch of surprise in his voice. Rarity shrugged, flicking her head so that her bang drifted out of her field of vision. “Well, that was before. Like I said, I’ve been neglectful and short sighted for far too long Fancy, and I’ve allowed my companies standards to slip right through my hooves.” Fancy Pants gave her a vaguely unimpressed look, briefly glancing down at her chest, obviously focused on the glow of the gem that shown through her shirt. “Well, standards aside, you should have known that your little crusade would be a massacre to our stocks,” he said, taking a sip of his bourbon. Rarity nodded slightly. “Yes, I know… I probably should have discussed it with you, I’ll admit that,” she replied, sipping her champagne gingerly. She hesitated, only now realizing that she had totally disregarded the stocks. “What was the damage anyways?” she asked, not really wanting to know an answer. Fancy let out a barely noticeable snort, “At least a forty point drop. And that’s the minimum Rarity, minimum.” Fancy took another sip of his drink. Rarity let out a quiet sigh of relief, “Well, at least we can recover from that one. We have had worse. Anyways, if I remember correctly, I’ve been told how our medical research division is only two steps away from curing cancer, or how one of our botanists thinks they can solve world hunger. Surely that means something to you.” Fancy tightened his jaw slightly. “Even so Rarity, that research was buoyed by our military department. As close as we might be to curing whatever disease needs a cure, we still need money to fund the research. And, as horrible as it might sound to you, we need to sell weapons to fund our medical division. War is a much more guaranteed way to gain money then peace. Pure and simple.” Rarity gave Fancy an unsure look before speaking, “You’re sounding an awful lot like a war profiteer, Fancy, you know that right?” Fancy nodded. “That’s only because I’m being frank Rarity. We are the ones who keep the world from disintegrating into a wild chaotic mess.” “Are you really so sure about that Fancy?” Rarity asked, swishing her champagne in her glass. “Because I’ve seen evidence of the opposite.” Fancy Pants’ expression grew somewhat uneasy, “How so Rarity?” He once more glanced down at the glow in her chest, his eyes wavering slightly. Rarity swallowed, carefully eying the various wealthy ponies around her before carefully leaning in towards Fancy Pants. “I fear we may have a leak,” she whispered warily, and Fancy Pants’ expression shifted, growing a little more uneasy. “A leak you say?” he replied, and Rarity nodded. “I’m strongly inclined to believe so, yes,” Rarity said, sipping her champagne again. “What evidence do you have?” Fancy asked, furrowing his brow. Rarity sighed, “When I was in the cave, I saw several unopened, brand new crates of BelleTech equipment and weapons. Brand new, Fancy. Still in the box. Are you absolutely sure we aren’t somehow dealing under the table?” Fancy Pants’ expression grew pensive, and he looked into his glass thoughtfully for a moment before answering, “Rarity, as far as I know, every single one of our shipments went to the exact client as they were intended for. But, if what you’re saying is true, then I will personally organize some ponies to find and plug that leak. That sound good?” Rarity nodded, “If you say so Fancy Pants.” Fancy Pants smiled, “Excellent. Now, we’ve spent enough time speaking of such dour topics. Go, enjoy yourself. This is a party after all, and just because things have been bad for you doesn’t mean you should spend your entire life moping.” He nudged her towards the crowd. “If you need me, I will be making some calls. Alright?” Rarity nodded, giving Fancy Pants a half-hearted thank you as she walked into the crowd. For some reason, something about Fancy’s response felt… off; as if he were hiding something. She idly unbuttoned a few buttons in her shirt. No use being buttoned up like a nun, she thought. At least try to enjoy yourself. However, her thoughts were distracted by an aloof, and velvet like voice calling her name. “Rarity! By Celestia is that you Rarity?” Rarity turned to see a lemon yellow unicorn with a wavy lavender and white mane come striding towards her, a large, inviting smile on her face. She wore a sea green strapless dress that clung to her, not unlike one of the dresses that Rarity owned. Next to her, glasses perched on his nose and double breasted suit pressed neatly, was a slate grey unicorn stallion with a slightly curly black mane. “Oh, hello Upper Crust,” Rarity said, tipping her head slightly in acknowledgement. Upper Crust simply greeted her with a quick, but friendly, hug. “Hello Rarity, it’s so wonderful to see you,” Upper Crust said, stepping back to give Rarity some space, while simultaneously grabbing a martini glass from a passing waiter, seemingly ignoring the fact that she already had a glass held aloft in her magic. “We heard about what happened. Absolutely horrifying,” she said, looking towards her husband for a moment. “Wasn’t it Jet Set?” Jet Set nodded. “Absolutely. I cannot imagine how frightening it must have been for you during those three months. We give you our deepest condolences,” he said, putting a hand on Rarity’s shoulder. Rarity smiled, finally feeling a little more comfortable, “You’re very much welcome, Jet Set. But really, I’m here right now to enjoy the party, not mediate on my time in captivity.” Upper Crust gave her husband an accusatory look. “She’s right Jet. That was very inconsiderate of you. Say you’re sorry,” she admonished, and Jet Set gave her a loving glance before tipping his head towards Rarity. “My apologies.” he said, before looking down at the gem in Rarity’s chest. “But might I ask where you found such a beautiful gem?” “Yes you simply must tell us!” Upper Crust gushed, nodding her head adamantly. Rarity looked down at the gem. “Well…” she took a deep breath. “It’s something that I fashioned while in captivity.” Upper Crust’s eyes widened, “No! Really? And all by yourself?” Rarity shook her head. “Um.. no… it was with the help of a friend.” “Really? Who?” Jet Set asked curiously, his words emphasized by a nod from Upper Crust. Rarity honestly didn’t feel comfortable talking about such a dark time in her life, but she also didn’t wish to be rude. Not to mention the empty void in her chest seemed to grow just a little bigger. “Well… it was a fellow prisoner… a diamond dog to be exact.” Upper Crust let out a gasp. “What? A diamond dog? How did you ever survive being in the presence of a such a ignorant, filthy and horrible creature?!” she asked, her jaw wide open in shock. Rarity felt her jaw tighten and her anger well up inside of her. “He wasn’t filthy or horrible,” she countered, her eyes narrowing. “He was my friend, and his name was Kili. And above all, he was not ignorant.” “Well what was he?” Jet Set asked, his tone sounding as if he was trying to be sincere but failing. “He was a physicist,” Rarity replied bluntly, which only incurred a snorted laugh from the obviously tipsy Upper Crust. “A physicist? I didn’t even know those existed!” Upper Crust said, her eyes widening. “I mean, I’m shocked those cave dwelling hounds are even capable of reading!” Jet Set was quick to give her a bump on the shoulder to cause her to stop laughing. “I apologize for Upper Crust’s inconsiderateness,” Jet Set said, giving Rarity a genuinely sympathetic look. “She’s always had trouble holding her liquor...you know how it is.” Rarity gave him a terse nod, “Yes, well...if you’ll excuse me,” And with that, she brusquely turned away and started to stalk through the crowd, unable to fathom how someone as cultured and wealthy as Upper Crust, could act so inconsiderate. As she walked, she caught the various snippets of conversations from the other rich ponies around her. “...so I managed to nap this gorgeous summer home in Prance for a steal of only one million bits!” “...my poor little Fifi is unable to eat soybeans, the poor poodle hasn’t been able to have her Rejuvena for three weeks because of it. I’ve had to stoop to buying store brand dog food! Can you imagine?!” “...well, a guy who dresses up like a bat, clearly has issues...” It was then that Rarity realized how much her perspective had changed. Six months ago, she would have probably been deeply involved in any one of the many conversations going on around her. But now? Now none of the conversations had anything more to them then a ‘brand new this’ or ‘fancy new that’. Every discussion was just about improving their immediate needs. Nothing long term. Mirrors, jewelry, clothing, the list went on. Everything was shallow and vain. The more Rarity heard, the more empty she felt. She eyed the bar nearby, wondering if she should try to drown out the inane babbling with whatever was the most powerful drink available. No Rarity… Kili wouldn’t want that, she thought, shaking her head and turning towards the exit. You’re going to go home, and work this off. Do something productive. Not like these…. she paused, giving the crowded room behind her another glance. Not like these ponies. And with that, she headed out the door, fed up with the emptiness of the world around her. ///////////////////////////// Light Bright was awoken by the sound of his cellphone ringing on his nightstand. He peered through his sleepy eyelids, glaring at the phone. He continued to glare towards it for a few more rings, before he let out a grumbling sigh. He lazily picked it up with his magic, not wanting to expose his hooves to the night air, and levitated it to his ear. “Hello, you’ve reached Light Bright, unrecognized genius. How may I help you?” he droned, hoping that whomever was calling him had good reason to, taking into account it was quite late and he had only just fallen asleep. “Hello Dr. Bright, this is Fancy Pants. Did I disturb you?” Upon hearing Fancy Pants’ voice, Light Bright slid up in bed, shaking himself awake. “Oh, um, no, of course not Mr. Fancy Pants. I was hoping for your call!” he answered, hoping not to sound too eager as his hoof moved up to grip the phone. “Well you don’t have to hope anymore my friend,” Fancy Pants answered, his voice sounding pleased. “There’s a certain position that I think you’ll be perfect for.” Light Bright’s eyebrows rose. “Really? What?” “Well, since Ms. Belle has seen fit to expand our alternative energies division, I trust that you have an understanding of mana generators and gem based arc reactors?” Fancy Pants asked, his voice sounding analytical. Light Bright nodded, “Why, yes, sir, I do have an understanding! I’m very sure I’ll be able to help you.” “Grand. Then I expect you here, in my office, by tomorrow so we can finalize the paperwork. You’ll be working for me, understand?” “Yes sir, I do. Perfectly so. What about Ms. Belle?” Light Bright replied, unsure as to why Fancy Pants only mentioned himself. “Don’t worry about her. That will be handled when the time comes. Until then, good evening.” Fancy answered, hanging up the phone and leaving a beaming Light Bright in silence. Wow, Light Bright thought, slowly slipping out of bed and walking over to his laptop computer, which on a desk across the room. I’m finally going to do it! I’m finally going to work at BelleTech! I’m going to finally be taken seriously! It’s all coming together! He happily slid into his chair, his past sleepiness forgotten. He popped open the laptop and flipped it on. He knew he had a basic understanding of mana generation, but, if he was going to be working at BelleTech, he was going to be sure to know everything that one could possibly know. Everything’s getting better! he thought happily, a smile spreading across his face. ///////////////////////////// Rarity threw herself onto her bed, disgusted by the actions of those around her. She angrily levitated the remote control over and switched on the TV. At least I can hopefully drown out the stupidity of the world with a little television, she thought. However, fate determined that she would land on a news report about the conflict over in South Griffinheim. “...the terrorists say that their new weapons are thanks to the newly disclosed fifty million bit ransom payment for famed Equestrian robotics expert and weapons designer Rarity Belle, who had been kidnapped by the terrorists…” The news pony continued his straight vested commentary, while the footage exhibiting the terrorists’ new weapons. Large machine guns carried on the backs of diamond dogs who fired them with glee at random innocent civilians. The thing that made it especially angering, was that they were using her ransom money to do it. Rarity had seen enough. She shut the television off, the empty feeling in her chest becoming unbearable. She looked around the room, trying to find something to fill the void. All she saw were the trappings of her old life, from expensive curtains to the velvet carpenting. On her desk across the room, sat a pile of papers, and Rarity caught a glimpse of the doodle of the mechanical pony and griffin she had made earlier. Rarity’s eyes narrowed slightly, the gears in her head starting to turn. She thought back to the cave, and her original plan. She remembered the suit, and the feeling of fulfillment that hope had given her. She had to do something herself, something to bring that that feeling back to her. Kili had sacrificed his body for me, she thought, rising out of the bed. Told me not to waste my life... She immediately grabbed her glasses, levitated some papers and a pen over and began to draw fervently. Her pen whipped across the page hysterically, her eyes didn't even perceive the shape, it was coming too fast—straight from somewhere in her hollow chest—a surge of anger and sorrow. They have pay, I have to MAKE them pay, wring it out of them before my eyes. She yanked open a drawer, pulling out a box of cigarettes, yanking one out and setting it alight. She needed the nicotine. Her sketching intensified, with her brushing away bits of ash as she fervently sketched. I have to be there, I have to SEE it, DO it myself. It was my fault Kili died, and therefore, I have to be the one to avenge him. For Kili’s sake, I can’t substitute my payment to anypony else. Her pen stopped abruptly—as if responding to her thoughts—and her eyes fell on the page. The final sketch showed sketch for an elegant battle suit made of steel. This design would be powered by her diamond arc. “‘Don’t waste your gift’ you said,” she whispered to Kili, as if he were standing in the room with her. “Well, I think I've found a purpose for my gift dear friend.”