//------------------------------// // Chapter 2: A Metropolis of Generosity // Story: Heaven and Hell // by Rainb0w Dashie //------------------------------// “It was just after dinnertime. Rather, it would have been after dinner time if I’d had anything to eat. I was asking for directions in Manehattan square and so far it had profited me two dirty looks, three shoves, an unsightly comparison between myself and a rather unladylike body part, and a spray of spittle from a rather endearing elderly stallion. I had heard stories my whole young life about what a metropolis of generosity Manehattan was; That if you ever needed assistance, no matter what, a kind manehattanite would do whatever they could to help you. This would’ve been a rude awakening to me if it wasn’t for my naive determination to make a bigger name for myself; Or it could’ve just been my hunger. Afterall, it is rather hard to trust a gut feeling when you haven't had anything to eat since lunch on a train.” *** Rarity emerged from an alley and was instantly struck by the difference in atmosphere between Manehattan Square and the part of the city she had just come from. 207th street has a rumored reputation for being the “bad” part of town, as does south-Central Los Pegasus or West Fillydelphia.There isn’t really any “bad part” in Manehattan. Affluent ponies tend to gather in the downtown, and the “bad neighborhoods” tend to be situated in the suburbs. However, generally speaking, the most popular districts are situated in the North-western parts of the city, the most upscale in the center and west of Manehattan Square. Still that's relative. There are many more immigrants in the popular areas, rent and real estate prices are lower, but you'll still have a hard time living there if you're really poor, and there aren't any ghettos or areas where it would be dangerous to walk around, even at night. The main factor is that it's just outside the borders of the old city of Manehattan. When people wanted to do things that weren't allowed inside the city walls, like brick-burning or plays that criticised Celestia, they'd go to what is now known as 207th street. That was well over a thousand years ago, and the reputation hasn't changed since. Although ponies are now no longer living in conditions so bad that 207th street is still widely considered the worst slum in Manehattan. But after the brutality of walking through 207th street, it seemed to Rarity that she had just stumbled into a formal ball. Everypony was dressed in new clothes. Everypony was clean, and they all seemed to be participating in some intricate formal dance. But as Rarity looked around the Square for somepony to ask directions from, she was unaware of the cluster of sideways glares coming from ponies all around the square as they passed by on their nightly business. “Excuse me sir,” Rarity called to a passing stallion attired in a rather lavish black red wardrobe. “You wouldn’t possibly happen to know how to get to West Manehattan would you? I’ve lost my map and I can’t seem to…” Rarity let her sentence trailed off as the stallion passed her by without even offering an acknowledging glance; Rarity assumed he must not have heard her, since she was still halfway into the alley. She stepped fully out onto the sidewalk and tried again to ask for directions. This time from a couple of manehattan teenagers trotting down the boulevard talking about latest plays being held at Withers Theater. “Excuse me, but would either of you two know how to get to West Manehattan? I’m a bit lost” Rarity politely explained as the two approached her. Except instead of avoiding eye contact like the stallion, the two looked at Rarity, made a face of disgust, and plowed right through the dressmaker; brushing her aside as if she were a low-hanging tree branch or an overgrown shrub.” “No need to be so rude…” Rarity groused quietly after collecting herself. “I was just trying to ask directions.” Rarity perked up though when she saw an elderly stallion hobbling down the sidewalk. Certainly a pony of his prestige won’t be as impolite as the last three ponies who so rudely spurned her simple requests. “Excuse me sir, I really don’t mean to bother you,” Rarity called out for a thrice time But I’ve lost my map and really need to get to- “Go back to the slums, you slimy c-” Rarity stood aghast as the elderly stallion trundled past her. Rarity had encountered some rude ponies before, that’s just a fact of life that you’ll encounter some undesirables, but never in her life had she been referred to as… That. And never in her life had it come so unprovoked and underserved, and from an elderly pony no less. Rarity could feel a hot sensation rising up in her body, and for one fleeting moment she lost all pretenses of couth and grace and found herself returning the same insult back to the elderly stallion in a tone of voice that was maybe one or two octaves too high. As the white unicorn regained her composure, she realized a sizeable amount of the square’s crowd was now staring in awe at her. And as Rarity looked around the square, she finally realized why everypony was being so rude to her: She was an outsider.. She wasn’t prim or proper or wearing her fanciest robes. Granted she was accompanied by several of her highest esteemed dresses and prides herself on her exuberant poise and sophistication, but to the crowd she was just some lame-face from 207th street with dirt past her horseshoes and a frazzled mane, shouting obscenities in one of the most well-to-do parts of town. Abashed, Rarity grabbed with her dresses with her magic and hurried down the boulevard as fast as possible; trottin a few blocks before coming across small park and decided to rest for a while on a park bench. “ohhw,” Rarity let out a soft whine as she kicked off one of her horseshoes. “my hooves really hurt. These horseshoes weren’t meant to be walked in; they’re simply just for show.” Rarity massaged her hoof for a while, kneading a knot of pain while absentmindedly casting her gaze across the boulevarde which was just catching the last of the sun’s twilit rays, before it sank completely into the ocean, and the block was glowing a strangely soothing pinkish-orange. A few doors down from a small apartment building, Rarity watched as several upscale-looking mares entered a corner-story restaurant at the end of the block. She then saw another mixed group, who she assumed to be fashion designers, wearing several shades of blue and green enter the restaurant as well. Her curiosity was finally piqued when she saw two shabby looking stallions accompanied by musical instruments enter the establishment and not immediately get kicked out. Putting her horseshoes back on, Rarity grabbed her dresses and crossed the street to investigate. Inside, Rarity could see a harrass of ponies seated in booths and tables throughout the restaurant in what appeared to be an amalgamation of Manehattan’s social classes. In the back Rarity could see grungy and scruff stallions seated by musical instruments of varying size, color, and design, while up towards the front she could see rows of uptight mares wearing fabulous robes and headdresses in what Rarity thought were a fantastically flamboyant display of fashion design. Sprinkled throughout the seating she could also see ponies wearing paint-spatterd smocks and thespian-esque equines with identities hidden behind theatrical masks with exaggerated expressions. Rarity was absolutely confused, almost dumbfounded, by the gathering she saw before her. She didn’t consider herself an expert on social class, but she was aware of the pre-conceived notions everypony has about social classes, almost stereotypical in nature, and was racking her brain trying to figure out who or what and how brought this group was brought together under the same roof. It wasn’t until Rarity turned her head a few inches to the left and saw a flyer in the window that was by her muzzle the whole time: Meeting of Manehattan’s artist district, tonight at 8:00 PM. Come for a night of free dinner and discuss the planning of Manehattan’s next-coming musical production to be put on in Manehattan’s very own Wither’s Theater! Rarity made at the face at the idea of a musical, not to imply that she found anything wrong with then; she was just never a big fan of them. Still, the aberrant presentation inside intrigued her, and the thought of a free meal, while severely beneath her level of acceptance, delighted her stomach; which after the long walk from 207th Street train station felt like it had shriveled into a small knot. The dressmaker slipped inside, but before grabbing a seat she caught a reminded of how she looked in the square and parked her dresses outside the little filly’s room so she could freshen up inside. *** Sometime later, Rarity emerged from the restroom with a sparkling sheen to her already radiant coat. Using some complimentary beauty supplies provided inside, Rarity managed to clean the dirt from her hooves and touch up her smeared makeup, and even was able to style her mane in a rather elegant fashion; more elegant than usual even. She also had the foresight to slip into one of her dresses, a black and white evening gown with assorted gemstones along the neckline, and feeling the comforting touch of the silky fabric conforming to her junoesque body made her feel that much more detached from the dirty street-urchin that she was just a short time ago. With a new spring in her step, despite her sore hooves, and slightly seductive swing to her gaite, Rarity brought her dresses over to an empty table and grabbed a seat by the fashion designers, attracting the attention of the whole section as she sat down and waited for a waiter. “Would ze madmoizelle care for a menu?” A waiter asked in a forced prench accent”. “Oh yes, thank you!” Rarity said with a bit too much enthusiasm. “I am very hungry.” Rarity let out an awkward chuckle as she took a menu with her magic. She began to flip through it and give her order when a mare from the next table turned around and addressed Rarity. “Are you from around here?” The mare said with a less than friendly demeanor. She was wearing a bright purple and green ensemble with obnoxiously large feathers in the head dress that kept falling down into her face. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you around the artist district before.” “Well not really, I’m from Ponyville.” Rarity replied with a bit of modesty. “But I am a special invited guest of Pasturns and Fetocks, a new boutique that just opened in West Manehattan.” “Ponyville?” Another mare, wearing a strikingly similar getup to the first one, laughed as she wheeled around. “That one-horse town? I thought your dresses were rather homely looking, and I was right!” The only good things that come out of a country town like Ponyville, “The first mare quipped. “are crops and livestock. And you don’t look like a bundle of wheat so then that must mean you must be some kind of steer, huh darling?” The mare gestured towards Rarity’s dress and made a few mocking imitations of a cow while her table erupted in snide cackles. Rarity was humiliated. Her ears dropped and her eyes shimmered like they were close to crying and she made soft wordless sounds as she fought back the tears and searched for something to say in response. While she was formulating a response, in what seemed like an instant, the group of mares had already turned their attention back to their own tables and the menu was taken from Rarity’s magic field by the waiter. “I am zorry madmoizelle,” The Waiter said still with his unconvincing accent. “But ze free dinner is for local residents only, and I’m afraid I have to ask you to leave.” of what she assumed to be fashion designers “yeah, sorry madmoizelle” The green-robbed mare said with a half turn of her head while Rarity was being escorted up by the waiter. “There’s a park just across the street, I’m sure you can find a nice spot to graze.” The table of catty mare cackled again as Rarity rushed out of the restaurant, dresses pulled by her magic and a few tears staining the shawl of her dress. “Miss! Wait!” A voice called to Rarity as she began to trot down the boulevard, but she couldn’t hear between the ringing in her ears and the stifled cries that were increasing in frequency. Just as Rarity was about to cross the street, she was stopped by a magic field around her left shoulder that kept her from moving. As she looked back, through her misty vision, she saw another unicorn with tan hair wearing a very stylish black suit-coat with a horn glowing the same color as the magic field around her shoulder. “What do you want?” Rarity asked with a mix of poignancy and indignant shame “To make fun of my dress too?” “Not at all, darling” The stallion said, his tone soft and sanguine. “As the costume designer for Hinny and the Hills it’d be unbecoming of me to belittle somepony’s dresses, even the most basic and uninspired.” “Hinny in the Hills?” Rarity asked a small hitch in her voice. The stallion floated a handkerchief out of his jacket pocket just as a tear or two escaped from Rarity’s eyes, and pressed it gently against her checks before they had the chance to smear her makeup. “Not that I’m saying your dresses are uninspired, on the contrary. They’re some of the most elegant gowns I’ve seen come out of the artist district in a long time!” “Thank you…” Rarity said meekly, still struggling to control her urge to break out into tears. “But I’m not from Manehatan. Just a, simple farm town…” “I know you’re not, dear.” The stallion said without a hint of condescension. “But your dresses are some of the best I’ve ever seen, far more exceptional than the gaudy nest of feathers those mares were wearing.” Rarity smiled. “I thought you said it’d be unbecoming of you to belittle somepony’s dresses.” she said coyly. “I overheard what they said to you, the insults and the… sounds.” The costume designer said flatly. “And you seem like the type of pony to take her craft very seriously, so I just wanted to make sure you weren't too upset about what they said to you.” “That’s very kind of you.” Rarity was starting to relax. “Perhaps the kindest thing to happen to me in this city so far…” “Whatever do you mean, dear?” As Rarity relaxed around this charming stallion, she recanted in grande detail the last several hours of misfortune she experienced in the city: Being invited to debut her dresses for a new boutique, forgetting her bag on the train, having to trot though 207th street, and now being publicly insulted by a bunch of mean mares; and the two were so enveloped in her tale that neither of them had even stopped to notice the sun while they were talking and the streetlights had taken over the sun’s job of lighting up the boulevard. . “... And I can usually handle insults like that rather well,” Rarity continued with her usually inflections. “But being insulted on top of everything else that happened tonight was just too much to handle.” Rarity stopped and looked at the stallion as a sudden realization came over her. “Oh my, how impolite of me.” Rarity said now looking bashful. “I’ve been talking for so long I didn’t even attempt to introduce myself or ask your name,”. Rarity stuck out her hoof and let it hang gracefully before the stallion. “My name is Rarity, and you?” “Glenn Glitter” The stallion took Rarity’s hoof as if to shake, hesitated, and kissed it instead. “And such a fitting name too.” “Fitting?” Rarity asked with a tiny blush. “how so?” “A special invited guest of Pasterns and Fetlocks and you trotted through 207th street on hoof and came out unscathed?” Glenn marveled. “It takes some kind of mare to pull off feats like that!” “Oh my, such flattery” Rarity turned her head slightly to the side, her blush increasing slightly. “But I’m not that special, I’m just some mare from Ponyville.” “Don’t be so modest, dear.” Glenn said. “I’ve heard several big names were invited to premiere at that boutique, and even if your from a small town like Ponyville, the fact that you got invited means you must be as good as any designer in that restaurant; a true manehattanite!” “Please darling, stop flattering me.” Rarity said with a soft laugh. “I get your point.” “Would you care to join me inside for dinner, Miss Rarity?” Glenn said, almost bowing. “I can be sure to get you inside and far away from those nasty mares.” Rarity delighted as the invitation but politely declined, explaining that she had a few more hours of walking in her designer horseshoes ahead of and she just wanted to get back to her hotel before it got too dark. “Heavens no!” Glenn interjected. “There’s no way I can let you walk away, at least not in those horseshoes. Your hooves must be killing you!” Maybe just a little.” Rarity made a face. “I expected to be taking a taxi straight from the train station to the hotel, so I didn’t dress for walking.” “An honest mistake,” glenn said, his horn lighting up and rustling something around in one of his inside pockets. “Nopony really does expect to oversleep and forget their bags on the train.” Rarity averted her eyes, still ashamed at herself for being so impulsive as to forget her bags. “I’ll tell you what.” Glenn said floating a few items in front of Rarity from inside his jacket pocket. Rarity looked back to see a map, a pen, and a small bag of bits floating in the air. “use these bits and this map to find your hotel, and in the morning come to my office.” Glenn used the pen to circle a street corner in north-eastern Manehattan. “I’d love to see your dresses in better light and not on a clothes hanger.” Rarity couldn’t control the redness in her face anymore. She couldn’t tell if this stallion was flirting with her or genuinely compliment her, but one thing she did know what that he was being exceptionally gracious to her and it would be rude to not accept his offer. She took the map and the bits with her own magic and agreed to meet at his office early in the afternoon. The two parted ways with a formal handshake and Rarity looked at the map as Glenn went back inside to attend to his dinner and evening of event-planning. *** Part of Manehattan’s vastness is the fact that it’s divided into a thousand small pieces, each with its own personality. There was Hoofings, Dockside, Bridle Court, Manehattan Square, Horseshoe Alley, 207th Street… You could live your whole life in Manehattan and never know all it’s parts. But the part Rarity needed to get to was West Manehattan, just a stone’s throw of 2 and a half miles away from Manehattan Square; she just needed to go through Horseshoe Alley. For a moment, Rarity contemplated saving the bits that were given to her by Glenn and just hoof it the rest of the way, but as she considered this the pain in her hooves argued back in protest and she decided to hail a taxi instead. *** "I learned many things on my first trip to Manehattan. I learned which hotels and restaurants gave special attention to the ‘local celebrities”. I learned you that need to find a good pair of horseshoes to support your arches. I learned that it’s near impossible to hail a taxi... But most importantly, I learned that Manehattan is vast. You cannot understand if you have not seen it yourself. It is like the ocean. I can tell you about the waves and water but you don’t begin to get an inkling of its size until you stand on the shore. You don’t really understand the ocean until you are in the midst of it, nothing but ocean on all sides, stretching away endlessly. Only then do you realize how small you are, how powerless."