//------------------------------// // Generosity – 2 // Story: Quick Nick Fics // by Nicknack //------------------------------// Rarity walked out into the cold streets of Manehattan alone, but with purpose. If she were being quite brutally honest, she didn’t remember the name of the event Applejack had traveled to Manehattan for. Some sort of farming convention, with displays of new technologies, processes, and even recipes. Rarity had come to Manehattan to spend time with her apple-loving friend, not to spend time loving the apples themselves. However, after the eighteenth plow—which had looked exactly the same as the seventeen before it—Rarity had seen enough. More importantly, Applejack had been invited to an “industry members only” talk, so she was not abandoning her friend. Their paths merely parted in a mutually beneficial manner. Outside the convention center, Rarity braced herself against the cold. With a pinch of magic, the gems in her cloak thrummed to life, forming a small barrier around her. It was not warm, but given that the temperature was several degrees below freezing before taking wind chill into account, it was certainly bearable. She truly pitied any pony who was caught outside in those elements, alone, without any aid. Of course, that had been her ulterior motive in coming to Manehattan. It was not a secret one; Rarity remembered each of her four Ponyville friends’ reactions to the idea. Fluttershy had thought it kind. Rainbow Dash and Applejack had several choice phrases to describe how pointless it was to look for a treacherous liar. Pinkie Pie had remained eerily silent on the matter. Truth be told, Rarity herself did not quite know what her own wishes were regarding Twilight Sparkle. In fact, she didn’t even have much information on her friend—let alone certainty if they still were friends. All she knew were the rumors that Twilight had ended up in Manehattan. Despite how Twilight had systematically wronged all of her friends in a hurtful, parasitic manner, Rarity wanted to find her to make sure she was okay. There was no altruism to that motive, nor any undue compassion. It was simply the right thing to do. Her intentions meant almost nothing compared to the size of the task at hoof. Manehattan’s population numbered in the millions, so finding one single pony would certainly require luck. In fact, Rarity had even told herself that she could not count on finding Twilight, but rather that she would look. There was a proper way of performing such a search, channels to use, places to go; “idle hope” did not factor into that process. Her first destination was the Manehattan Police Department. She walked out to the sidewalk in front of the convention center, and despite the thick coat she’d sewn for him, Big McIntosh stood looking surlier than usual. “Good afternoon!” she cried over the wind. He raised an eyebrow, looked at the gray clouds above him, and stared back at her. “Or is it?” She tilted her head. “Ee...nope.” Big McIntosh shook his. This time, it was Rarity’s turn to wait silently for the conversation. “Found your friend,” he grumbled. He hoofed at the snow on the sidewalk, where the splattered remains of an apple turnover lay. Rarity swallowed. She’d hoped it hadn’t come to this, but she’d also brought along reasonable expectations. “She stole from you?” “Eeyup.” “And ran away, I presume.” Big McIntosh nodded, then pointed at a trail of hoofprints. Rarity followed them down the sidewalk with her eyes, then nodded apologetically at Big McIntosh. She didn’t necessarily think it fortunate that her search was going to possibly become much simpler than it had any logical right to be. Briskly, Rarity cantered down the path that Twilight had forged. It went cold when she’d—perhaps too craftily for her own good—entered a warehouse. She doubted that Twilight was inside, but ladylike sense told her that it was unwise to enter such a place alone. Perhaps she could convince a few members of the police to search with her, but that would not be alone, that would be with an adequately safe-sized searching party. Instead, Rarity went back to the Apple family’s food cart. After briefly telling Big McIntosh that she hadn’t found Twilight, Rarity investigated some more to find hoofprints. With how little traffic there had been in those streets—she had no doubt that it was a stubborn family tradition that led Applejack to set up the cart, despite the weather—the path Twilight had taken to the cart was much clearer. After looking both ways and crossing the street, Rarity found that the hoofprints of her friend formed an exceptionally clear path. The whole time she followed it, a hard sense of unease crystallized inside her. She didn’t know what she would find at the end of it, but nonetheless, Rarity continued following the trail. It led to an alleyway, and in that alley, near a heating vent, sat a huddled, gaunt purple unicorn. If she noticed Rarity, she didn’t make any indication that she had. In fact, Rarity’s breath caught in her throat as she realized the very real possibility that she had found a corpse. The unicorn moved, barely, but enough to show she was breathing. Rarity let out her breath, though her fears were not wholly relieved. The unicorn in that box was a corpse of an entirely different nature. Rarity swallowed a lump as she walked forward on trembling hooves. This... this thing had been her friend at one point. But now, she was filthy, an empty husk that stared vacantly at the wall. “T... Twilight?” She couldn’t help that her voice broke as she spoke her friend’s name. Hearing her name, the unicorn slowly blinked. Then, she turned her head to the source of the words. “Rarity?” Her eyes widened, but there was no brightness in them as she gave the weakest of smiles. “Rarity!” Rarity blinked back tears at what she had helped create. No, that wasn’t fair to herself. Twilight had been a beast for months, living in her house without an ounce of responsibility—including hygiene. If she had helped create the husk in that alleyway, then surely, that implied that somepony else had done most of the work. That pony spoke again. “Listen... I know things... got bad. But it’s cold, and I was wondering... is... anything you can do to help?” Something shattered inside Rarity, filling her chest with hot lead. At first, she remained speechless due to shock. When that wore off, she took a deep breath. “You... you have the gall, to ask for money, after you stole from Applejack?” Again came a slow blink. “Those... were Applejack’s? I heard a stallion...” “I suppose you’ve forgotten that Applejack has a brother, let alone countless male cousins.” “I didn’t forget...” It sighed. “I’m sorry.” Rarity shook her head, and for the first time, she regretted her search. “Sorry why? Because you got caught? What if I had not found you, would you have come to make amends?” Slowly, the unicorn shook its head. “I thought as much.” Rarity had half a mind to walk away on that note, but the better half of her mind knew she’d regret it forever if she did. She was angry, disappointed even, but that was because she remembered her friend. She knew what she had been capable of, the pony she used to be. Rationally, she knew that if her friend could twist and warp into the wraith in that box, the same thing could happen to anypony with awful enough circumstances. However, what help could be offered? The pony in that box had studied “friendship” for years, long enough to become an expert in the art of manipulating ponies. Twilight had always had a nervous tic, and had been prone to bouts of depression, but she usually had the right mind to pick herself up out of them. Rarity sighed. She understood that losing her own horn would be devastating, but she could make do with her hooves. Some of her design patterns required expertly applied pressure from two hooves, even, so it wasn’t that dressmaking was impossible. Twilight Sparkle had been a student of magic, and she had even been its bearer before the Scion War had destroyed the Elements of Harmony. Rarity understood. That didn’t absolve Twilight of her actions. But that also did not rightly condemn her husk to die out in the streets because of them. “I could help you,” Rarity admitted. The purple unicorn’s head shook. “I... no. I’m fine.” Rarity stared flatly in response. “There are many definitions of the word ‘fine’, Twilight Sparkle, and though you are taxing my patience, none of them apply to sitting in a box in a cold snap that is only going to grow colder before the week is over.” “No one usually yells at me here, so...” “So what?” Rarity scoffed. “So you’d rather die than face the truth?” “What truth?” “That you were the cause of your own demise. Not Scion. Not your lack of a horn. Not your friends or family. You were the pony who never moved on.” “Moved on to what?” A tiny spark of emotion entered those hollow words. It set Rarity’s own emotions off. “Anything better than a box in the streets!” Despite the wind, her yell echoed out into those streets. “It’s all I can do.” Rarity pointed a hoof. “It’s all you believe you can do. You let yourself think untrue thoughts, to absolve you of any responsibility for your action. It’s easy to live in a box.” The grimy unicorn stood up, slowly, shaking. As she walked towards Rarity, the stench of squalor radiated like waves that made her eyes water. Without regard for Rarity’s personal space, the unicorn leaned in and spoke apple-scented words: “Nothing about this is easy, Rarity.” It took effort to not dry-heave, but Rarity prevailed. “Perhaps not easy,” she admitted, “but preferable. Out here, you can live on your excuses. Out here is where your excuses rightfully led you.” Dry, chapped lips curled back in a snarl. Before she could speak, Rarity continued. “But I did not come here to berate your life decisions. I came to see what happened to my friend.” She sighed, and quickly made her mind up. “I came to offer you a job.” The unicorn’s snarl turned upside down, confused. “A job? Like, pity?” “Partially. But I remember a Twilight Sparkle who lived and breathed magic theory, studied it for weeks on end... You still remember some of that, yes?” “You know it’s worthless to me.” Rarity raised a countering hoof. “Au contraire. Just because you are unable to use magic anymore does not make that knowledge useless. For example—” she took a quick breath “—my daughter is right around the age where she is beginning to come into her talent.” Slowly, the unicorn in front of Rarity blinked. When her eyes opened, a deep, longing sorrow shone in their core. Twilight Sparkle asked, “You... you have a daughter?” Rarity nodded. “And a husband, of course. You’ve spent so much time away from Ponyville, dear.” Twilight hesitated, looking down. “I... it’s what everypony wanted.” “No, Twilight, no one wanted this for you.” She lifted her head back. “So, that’s it? You want me to teach your daughter, and... what?” “I cannot pay you a living wage,” Rarity admitted. “Carousel Boutique only provides so much. But I will provide you food, shelter, bathing facilities, and whatever it costs for you to gain a teacher’s certificate. In that time, you will teach my daughter the fundamentals of magic, and you will do a good job at it. If I find that you are lacking in your duties to Jewel, or to your teaching certification, or to my home, then you will be asked to leave. Does that sound fair?” Twilight shook her head. “I used you. And... everypony else. It’s better than I deserve.” “Perhaps true,” Rarity agreed. “You will also need to apologize to everypony you wronged. Including your parents.” Slowly, Twilight nodded. “Okay. I can do that.” She looked behind her at the box she used to live in. “I... I guess I don’t really have a choice.” “You have a choice, Twilight. This is a second chance to make the right one. Just this time, make sure you take it. So... let us head back to my hotel room. It should be warm there, at least.” An almost too-eager expression crossed Twilight Sparkle’s face. Rarity nipped it in the bud. Her voice dropped to a harsh whisper as she uttered one simple fact: “If you hurt me again, I will remember it. If you ever hurt my daughter, I will end you.” Twilight Sparkle nodded. “I understand, Rarity. I... I know you can’t trust me, but I’ll work on rebuilding that. But it’s just so cold out here...” “I do not mean to be harsh, only to give fair warning.” Rarity smiled at her friend. “But yes, let us get off these streets. We have several years of catching up to do.”