Those Below the Hoof
Manehatten, a glittering metropolis situated in northern Equestria, nestled between the desolate Foal Mountain range and the frigid Crystal Mountain range, shone brightly in the sun, ignorant of its lonesome perch in the solitary valley between the ranges. The metropolitan city was the hub of trade between Equestria and Griffonia, and thus sported a wide range of cultural sights, resulting from the mesh of culture formed between the major nations. Fashion shows, plays, artists, songwrights, and many more flocked to the capital of culture within Equestria.
It was here that Coco Pommel departed the train, beginning her career as the assistant to a Suri Polomare, an up-and-coming dressmaker in Manehatten. Raised in Ponyville, she had worked hard to move to the big city, with her hard work paying off, earning her an invitation to Fashion Week. This opportunity had prompted her to hire an assistant, for participation in such a renown event, even without winning, would spread her name, and perhaps more importantly, designs, throughout Equestria. And if she were to win, her fashions would be officially endorsed by ponies such as Prim Hemline, Hoity Toity, and Photo Finish. The opportunity to serve as her assistant was too good to pass up, and Coco had immediately left her native Vanhoover, traveled the entire length of Equestria to arrive in the shining city of Manehatten.
Hooves clicking against the cobblestone, Coco wandered the town, playing tourist, following the flow of the crowd. Passing various sights, none stuck her as profoundly as the theater. A play enthusiast, she had desperately hoped to get tickets to Hinny of the Hills, but the show had sold out months before she had arrived. Disappointed, but resolving to work even harder, gaining the clout required to procure a ticket or two for the show, next time it came into town. Perhaps, after a time as Suri’s assistant, Suri might be inclined to get a ticket for Coco, if she was good enough at her job.
Wandering and wondering, she didn’t notice the stop in traffic in front of her, and ran heavily into the stallion before her. Standing up, sputtering apologies, she followed his unnoticing gaze across the street, she watched in shock as a sudden gust of wind blew down the avenue, where a grilled carrot dog vendor’s grill was fanned into a blaze, scorching the vendor. Afraid for him, she ran across the street with several concerned others. The vendor, raising, seemed unharmed, with only a layer of fur burnt away. Relieved, the crowd milled away, but Coco paused for a longer look, as she had noticed something on his neck, unrelated to the flames. As the vendor craned his head to stare at a red bird steal a grilled carrot dog he had seen given to a small dragon only moments before the accident, Coco leaned in for a closer look. There, tattooed upon his neck, previously hidden by fur, was a black hoofprint.
Walking briskly away as the vendor turned around and caught her staring, she wondered what the hoofprint meant. She had never seen one like it before, but it obviously meant something to the vendor, but he seemed ashamed of it, hiding it when he noticed it was revealed. A curious quandary, but probably an unimportant one. It was around ten minutes before two, at which point the show would begin. Still, she didn’t want to be late, and arrive with only seconds to spare, so she rushed to meet her new boss, hopping into a taxi and taking off.
She arrived with plenty of time to spare, noticing that it seemed customary for assistants to arrive five minutes before, as many others arrived just as she did. She vowed to arrive earlier next time, to show Suri she was motivated. She walked up to Suri, introduced herself, and then faded behind the curtains as the show began. She had not had time to learn Suri’s temperament or disposition, restricted as her interaction had been.
As she browsed the designs of the previous year’s winners, she noticed a group of stallions strutting through the show’s backstage. These stallions did not seem the fashonista type, Coco decided, and wondered where they had gotten their outfits. With their stylish suits, angled fedoras, and dark shades, they could have wandered straight out of a Daring Do book. Stalking around, looking menacing at any that looked their way, and general thuggish behavior, they had no business interrupting Fashion Week, and Coco hoped that they would conduct their business and leave as soon as possible. When they began trotting offstage, her hopes were raised, then crushed as they began a conversation with Suri. She inched closer, hoping to catch bits of the conversation they were having, arriving within hearing range to catch “...fabric.” The conversation concluded, the thugs— stallions, Coco corrected herself— gestured towards a nervous-looking mare with a white coat and a styled purple mane, then walked out of the building. Grinning to herself, Suri cantered over to the mare in question.
Knowing that she had probably already overstepped her bounds, and having already been dismissed until later that evening, Coco left the showroom, hoping to catch the carrot dog vendor before he closed shop and catch a bite to eat. She refused to admit to herself that this desire for a grilled carrot dog stemmed from her desire to ask the vendor about his curious tattoo. Walking out the entry, she nearly ran into Suri, who had walked outside with the mare, referring to her as “Rarity”. Her mind still on the tattoo, she swerved around Suri, only to find herself almost falling on her face when she sighted a familiar-looking black tattoo upon Suri’s neck, hidden behind her fur, concealed well, but not completely. Confused, she was considering interrupting the conversation to query Suri, until a pang of hunger dispelled the idea. Coco walked away, relieved that her quest towards the carrot dog vendor had been honest after all.
Walking down Mane Lane, she arrived at the vendor’s cart to see it toppled across the vendor, crumpled and warped. Crying out for help, she rushed to his side, quickly pushing against the heavy cart, and succeeding in rolling off of the vendor. Hearing a chuckle, Coco looked up to see the same group of thugs leaning against the building across the street, enjoying the poor vendor’s misfortune. When a group of citizens ran out of the building, the group faded into the shadows of the alley alongside them. Dismissing them, Coco turned to the vendor, confused as to what had happened. The cart had seemed steady earlier in the morning, and it was heavy enough that no mere gust of wind could hope to knock it over. When she voiced her confusion, the group around her stared at her, until the vendor spoke.
“You really don’t know, do you?” the vendor asked. With this, the groups faces turned from confusion to sorrow, realizing her naivety.
“They are part of the Hoofprint gang, the major pony gang in this city. They were initially formed to protect us from the Talon gang, a vicious group from Griffonia that terrorized common citizens. The Hoofprint gang would tattoo a hoofprint on the necks of all under its protection, a visual warning to the Talon gang. But they’ve changed. That group of thugs knocked over my cart, because I didn’t have enough bits to pay for the ‘protection’ they offer. They terrorize this neighbourhood, breaking windows, ransacking homes, and pillaging stores whenever their fees are not paid. The Talong gang has offered to ‘protect’ us as well, but they would be even worse that the Hoofprint gang.”
“Shouldn’t you go to the police, tell them what’s going on?” Coco queried, her heart sinking as she recalled the Soveet gang of her hometown, disbanded many years before she was born. She had thought this kind of piracy had stopped long ago. Yet here was proof that it had not.
“No, to do so would make our plight even worse. Upon their neck, every policestallion and policemare had a black hoofprint tattooed. At best, we would be ignored, and at worse, we would be prosecuted. So, we carry on, doing what we must to remain in their good graces, and attempt to pay on time. To do otherwise would bring danger to ourselves and our families, and that, we cannot do. At this point, nearly every pony in Manehatten has a hoofprint upon their necks. With so many years of corruption, Manehatten leaves its hoofprint on everypony who ventures into it.”
Her heart low with the image of her dream city shattered, she thanked the vendor and the group of ponies sharing in the oppression, bought a grilled carrot dog that had survived the cart’s fall, and headed off towards her hotel that she was sharing with Suri.
~~~
Suri was an absolute disaster. Not only had she dumped her entire line of dresses upon Coco to make, she had stolen from that mare from earlier, Rarity, and used the material for her entire line. That one-of-a-kind material, hoof-made, blatantly stolen. And, since Suri was going first, it would appear as if it was Rarity had stolen it, rather than the other way around. But she had done it, out of loyalty to her job and boss, regardless of its moral repercussions.
“Come on, hurry up! We have an extra stop to make before we go to the show. Get moving!” Suri shouted as she entered the room. “I’ve found a way to make a few bits on the side, and we need to go across town. I have a few associates who would be interested in this wonderful material, so let’s get moving!”
Hurrying, Coco gathered the dresses she had made and loaded them into the cart. She put the cart onto a taxi, and sent it to the show building. She and Suri clambered into another taxi, and began across town. Whether or not she like Suri’s style of competition, she did like the benefits it brought. Normally, taxis were nearly impossible to find, but with social status and a few whispered words, taxis opened up for them. As she was whisked across town, Coco couldn’t help but wonder at the amazing vistas Manehatten offered. Who would have thought, that under such a gleaming city, corruption ran as deep as Maretropolis or Gothhoof?
The taxi came to a stop in front of a warehouse, dark and worn in appearance. Suri smiled at the owner of the taxi who looked perturbed, and once both had left the taxi, raced off as quickly as possible. Suri walked towards the warehouse, knocked twice upon the door, and entered. Coco, nervous, entered alongside her, then looked around once inside. The warehouse was filled with crates, unmarked and unopened. She could not tell what was inside, but some seemed corroded, smelling strongly of salt and fish. She had little time to observe before Suri urged her forward.
“This warehouse belongs to a group that I belong to, one that helps protect Manehatten from troublemakers across the sea. A group of griffons have come to our Manehatten, stirring up trouble. We protect the common pony from this violent gang, known as the Talon gang. We try to run only off of profits we make off of exports, but sometimes we can’t make enough, and are required to beg a little off of our citizens, but they know it is for their own good, and are happy to do so.”
Coco, remembering the carrot dog vendor, had her doubts about the claim, having heard similar arguments from the history books regarding the Soveet gang that had terrorized her own town long ago. She wondered why she was here, and whether she would need to find a new boss after this. Unfortunately, with each passing moment, this seemed more and more likely.
Stopping in a office-looking space, a group of ponies were waiting for them. Coco tensed, sighting the three thugs from earlier, but they did not seem to recognize her. At the table within the space, sat a sly-looking stallion dressed in what Coco had heard referred to as a “Zoote Suit”, very expensive to make or purchase.
“This is Tommy Gunn,” Suri introduced, waving a hoof from Coco to Gunn. “He is in charge of this operation, and has strong ties in the government and police force to help keep this city safe. He was the one interested in this material. He believes that a company in Griffonia would pay greatly for this material, and we would have a more steady income for our citizens. He would also pay us for the production of this material. But, this isn’t the only deal he has for us today. This next one, is for you.”
Coco was nervous, and she began thinking of all the ways this meeting could go wrong. What was this deal he would make? Did he know about her doubts? Would she be harmed?
“This is an invitation,” Tommy announced to the group. “We need all the good hooves we can get. I would like to invite Miss Pommel her to join our group, to help us protect this city.” He smiled and extended a hoof to her. “Would you care to join us? The benefits are innumerable. Griller carrot dog vendors will simply give you food, taxis will never refuse you, all of this can be obtained through membership and a few whispered words.”
Coco was taken aback, but she couldn’t help but notice a pony in the back taking out a tattooing kit. If she took the offer, she would be forever marked as a co-conspirator. If she declined, who knows what he would do? She needed to get away from here, preferably without raising any concerns.
“Wow, I’m honored, but this is a lot to take in. May I have a few moments to clear my head, and consider this offer?” Coco asked, hoping to conceal her nervousness.
Clearly disappointed, but lacking any reason to refuse, Tommy Gunn nodded. Coco turned around and walked away, hearing a conversation pick up among those left at the table. She was leaving the warehouse when a small glow caught her eye. A crate had been left slightly ajar, and a chromatic glow escaped the crack. She stopped, and walked over to the crate, pushed the lid aside, and looked within. Inside, meticulously wrapped, obviously valued and expensive, was a single spool of rainbow-colored thread, glowing. The glow was more than a simple light, it was a calling to her heart, a reminder of her past. Her friends, from when she was a filly, her family, long since separated, and above all, the generosity of a random stranger, not expecting anything in return, but glad to pass on whatever generous act of a stranger they themselves had received. What was this thread, Coco wondered. Where had it come from? Why was in the possession of a street gang?
This artifact clearly didn’t belong to this gang. It was one-of-a-kind, hoof-made, blatantly stolen. The gang clearly didn’t deserve this... but Coco was instantly struck by somepony that did. Grabbing it, she rushed out of the warehouse and downtown, her hooves loudly striking the polished tile of the warehouse. A shout came from the table deep within the warehouse, the group chasing after her.
Breathing heavily, Coco sprinted away from the warehouse. She rushed downtown, hoping to find that white-and-purple mare. She didn’t know where exactly she’d be, but she had a good idea. Her friends had been excited about the Hinny of the Hills, but had been unable to see it, as far a Coco could tell. Granted she had heard this while they were walking down the street, muttering a bit loudly to themselves, and the Hinny of the Hill group had been delayed a day, for a private performance. There were few ponies in Manehatten with the power to do this, and she suspected that Rarity would have been the one to do this. Putting two and two together, she decided to run for the theater.
A target in mind, she almost missed the sound of hoofsteps behind her. Hearing this, she panicked, and dove into an alley alongside the street. Turning through the alley, unable to see or hear anything but the echoing hoofsteps behind her, she stumbled into a dumpster and fell. Hoping her followers had not heard or seen her slip-up, she scrambled behind it, desperately trying to conceal her erratic breathing and panicked heart.
The hooves grew closer, nearing her cover. Her heart rate increased, and she stopped breathing in her fear. Coco was certain that the thug could hear her every miniscule movement, her heart itself. The hooves came alongside the dumpster, then slowly receded to a call from the entrance. She looked around the corner, and saw the carrot dog vendor running down the lane, pushing his cart before him. He ran straight into the thick of the thugs, knocking most over before getting laid upon by the rest.
“Run!” he shouted into the alley, clearly for her. Coco ran down the alley, turning a corner just in time to see the citizens of the nearby building rush out and mob the thugs. She ran out of the alley, stopping to get her bearings. She was surprised to see the theater right across the street. She stopped, calming her heart and breathing before entering. She walked inside, and, as it turned out, her hunch was correct. Rarity was indeed inside, along with her five friends.
She called out to the group, “Mind if I join you?”
“Sure,” Rarity called out in return.
Coco walked down the aisle, towards the group. As she came up to the six, the looked back towards the door, hoping none of the thugs would find her, and it seemed that she was safe. She turned back towards the group, and began.
“I’m sorry for the way Suri acted. She stole your materials, and almost ruined your chances with Fashion Week. I-I suppose that I played a part in this, and for that, I’m sorry. I’m glad that you won, rightly so after what has happened. I-I found this, and it reminded me of you.”
Coco held out the spool of rainbow thread looking at its shimmer and glow, feeling the effects it had upon her. The country mare frowned, sensing that there was more to the story, but she didn’t say anything. Coco, noticing this, was a bit worried, but continued.
“I hope this can begin to repay the debt I owe you. Can you ever accept my apology?”
At this, Rarity smiled, and nodded. Pausing for a second, Rarity asked, “Are you still working for Suri, darling?”
Coco gasped, realizing she was probably out of a job and a country away from home. She looked down, and shook her head.
Rarity, noting this, but remaining silent, thought of all of the opportunities she had, and the few that Coco had. After a moment, she spoke up, “Hm. I suppose you’ll need a job now that you’re no longer with Suri. How would you like to work for my friend making all the costumes for his next show?”
Coco gasped again, absolutely amazed by the generosity of this mare. After all she had done to hurt her, Rarity still offered up an unbelievable position of incredible prestige. Coco nodded, accepting, grateful. Coco found she could neither speak, nor needed to. She thought about how this opportunity would extend her stay in Manehatten. She thought of the repressed, stuck between the Talons and the Hoofprints. She thought of the good she could do with her time in Manehatten, working for the common pony, never turning against them, never hurting them. She would stay, and help. And spread the Generosity, to those in need and those without.