//------------------------------//
// Purple Prose 
// Story: Orange Is The New Blue 
// by Estee 
//------------------------------//

	"Rarity, would you please not stand so close?  You're darkening the text."

"Oh, right, sorry..."

The designer backed away, and Spike looked at the map again, visibly repressing a long sigh.  "Okay...  places where tourists might go..."

The search was turning out to be more complicated than they had originally hoped.

A good part of the problem stemmed from Ponyville itself.  It wasn't a particularly large town, especially when compared to some of the more vast settled zones dotted across the continent.  There were times when it was easy to think of the place as something just barely beyond hamlet, and running into the same ponies day after day created a sense of familiarity which shrunk the virtual image to something around the scope of ten square blocks.    

But in reality, Twilight's move had been the first of many.  Ponies had seemingly been immigrating since the day she'd arrived, drawn by the strange, the odd and for some, the chance to personally be just as strange and odd in a place where it felt as if fewer ponies would even notice, at least compared to whatever had happened three days prior.  Others seemed to think the town was on the verge of becoming a rather distant Canterlot suburb.  And more than a few just wanted the chance to be some part of history -- hopefully the part which survived to tell the tales.

Ponyville still wasn't a particularly large town.  But it wasn't exactly a small one, either.  It had spread out.  And when the trio considered the sheer scope of their home, some of the raw distances involved between town square and dam and outlying farms and Luna's shoes, if their target pony actually tried to reach Fluttershy's cottage...

The trio had to try and cover all of it.  And that was another part of the problem:  trio.  It was early summer...  something which meant Bearers who couldn't necessarily be pulled away from their day jobs.  Pinkie was trying to help the Cakes deal with the uprising.  Applejack would be patrolling multiple sections of the Acres, checking on the early development of her crop -- or at the market stall in the town square, selling off the first harvests:  Big Mac would be handling whatever she wasn't.  Fluttershy typically couldn't (and shouldn't) be shifted away from the cottage for anything short of a full emergency, not with so many newborns about.  And since nopony had heard snoring, none of them had any idea where Rainbow Dash was.  Two unicorns and one dragon, none of them particularly fleet of hoof and claw, trying to cover the entire settled zone in a situation where they couldn't spread out because there was no way to communicate, much less come back together in a hurry should a lone member manage to less than corner their target.

Twilight had proposed lurking in ambush at the train station.  Rarity's counter-argument had reminded the librarian that some ponies did take the gallop back to Canterlot, which left them splitting forces between the railway and the most likely bridge -- and it still didn't dismiss the chance that the perpetrator had already left town.  In the worst-case, this was a teleporter with an arrival point and range which would let her get outside the borders:  there was no way to track that.  And if they simply waited at the more conventional exits...  well, that was leaving the mystery mare free to trot about pranking anypony she chose.  

There was no normal way for the three of them to cover the entire area.  There was too great a chance of missing something no matter what they did.  The group realization of just how thin their odds of finding the unicorn were had turned into frustration, and that emotion was now very literally wandering all over the map.

Spike traced a claw across the parchment, scoring it in several places.  "The dam?"

Rarity sighed.  "Spike, dear...  whyever would a Canterlot tourist travel to the dam?"

The little dragon thought it over.  "...fishing?"

"I am aware of but one pony who regularly endeavors to catch fish, Spike.  She has a bow in her hair, a new kitten to feed, and I sometimes suspect she simply enjoys watching them thrash about on shore.  We must consider the nature of our target.  This is a prankster.  What sort of prank would await at the dam?"

Twilight came up with that answer.  "Changing the color of the water into something disturbing.  But...  well, we don't know how much effort has to go into the initial casting, but..."  She glanced at Spike.

"Too much mass," Spike agreed with the unspoken remainder.  "Way too much, when you figure for water weight."

Twilight nodded.  "I don't think I could manage any appreciable fraction of it, and I'm sure she's not stronger than me.  Cross off the dam."

Rarity nodded.  "Let us consider her course to date.  She passed you rather early on.  The library is not particularly close to bridge or train station, so she had been in town for some time at that point.  And you had closed the tree, so she could not come inside.  After that, the two additional castings we know of share a theme:  areas where one can shop.  First to try on a dress or two before ruining every last --" a deep breath, and she reined in her volume.  "-- my pardon.  Then Sugarcube Corner.  Do all three of these sites have anything in common?"

All three concentrated.  

Several seconds passed, waved to bored minutes, and discussed whether any hours should be recruited into the pack.

"...offense..."

Rarity and Spike spun to face Twilight at the same moment:  the red-and-black mane whipped the little dragon's spines.  "Sorry, sorry -- Twilight, whatever do you mean?"

"The library was closed, she couldn't get in...  prank..." Twilight considered.  "Your shop...  you couldn't pay attention to everypony, she was angry because you hadn't gotten to her yet...  the bakery was crowded..."  Worried, "Am I making any sense?  That somepony would do something like this just because they didn't like waiting for something, or wasn't happy with what they'd found, or...  I don't know, I'm not good at this..."

And to Twilight's great surprise, Rarity smiled.  Not a wan one, or a soft reassurance, and certainly not the look which would indicate she'd found Twilight's concept to be funny.  It was a smile of purest pride, and it undid every local effect of her changed coat before spreading out to lighten the world.

Gently, a tone which caressed the ears as the open warmth worked deeper in, "You are so much better than you believe you are.  Three years ago, Twilight, such never would have occurred to you.  Gauging an emotional reason for committing an act, and to this level of degree...  no, that would not have happened.  You are not the mare whom Pinkie met leaving the air carriage.  You are, in so many ways, somepony else entirely.  And both of those mares were, and are, my friend."

Twilight stood stock-still, eyes slightly dipped.  She wondered how far the blush was radiating, if the fierce reddish bloom under her coat was simply emotion or a working of its own.  Something which brought forth change.

"It is possible," Rarity continued.  "Extremely so.  Somepony who is extremely impatient, possessing a short temper to go with a means of expressing it.  It does not give us her next destination -- but if your theory is correct, it tells us her reaction.  Under the current hypothesis, the only way she would not use the working again was if she was kept entirely happy for the remainder of her stay in Ponyville -- and such a pony would be rather difficult to retain within a contented state.  We do not know whether your concept will prove true, Twilight, but it is one we should keep in mind as we proceed -- and if we find her, do not discard it without contrary proof."     

Awkward now, no longer knowing what the words were supposed to be, much less what kind of feelings should be coming behind them.  "But it doesn't tell us where she's going...  it doesn't get your stock back to normal..."

She could feel Spike gently rubbing her flank, and very little else.

That strange tonal combination of soft and firm now, a blade which only struck to heal.  "And if we never manage to find her...  then this moment was still worth it."  A brief pause.  "Something I may need frequent reminding of at three in the morning when we are working to find the counter and I feel as if I am facing the prospect of either double-dyeing my entire floor inventory or simply sewing a new lot from scratch.  And that reminder may need to come in the form of cold water thrown into my face.  For the sake of our collective sanity, let us presume she has not yet been so offended as to leave Ponyville.  She seems to have been shopping...  perhaps she will continue the trend.  Shops and the market stalls in the town square:  those should be the next places we look."

"But she could be happy in one place and upset in another," Spike pointed out.  "We could pass her when everything's working out and never know it."

Rarity's nod bore the slightest touch of weariness.  "Quite possible.  But it seems to be the best hope we have.  I know I have no idea superior to that, and am perfectly happy to entertain any other..."

The silence beckoned to a pair of additional minutes and asked if they wanted to join in a jaunt through the countryside.

"Okay," Twilight said, forcing herself back into full focus.  "Let's go shopping.  Everywhere.  Multiple circuits.  If we're still at it when the market stalls start to close, we'll see if we can pick up Applejack or Big Mac -- reinforcements.  And when the stores begin to shut down, that's when we stake out the train station.  Maybe put somepony at the bridge.  Agreed?"  A pair of nods told her all she needed to know.  "Then here we go..."

And they went, moving down streets which seemed to almost be hemorrhaging population.  Few stared at Rarity's change now, for there were few left to stare at all, and most of those who remained were the tourists who had no idea what the unicorn normally looked like.  

They heard the cause before they saw it.

"...and it's a disease!  A terrible, terrible disease!  It gets into your coat and mane!  It makes you look like somepony else entirely!  Somepony evil!"  

(Off to the left, still out of sight and hearing, a certain summer tourist who had gotten distracted on his way back to the train station stomped an angry hoof and trotted off in a huff, never to be seen again.  For real this time.)

"You have to get indoors!  You have to save yourselves!  I'm risking myself by coming out here to warn you, and I know I've got my suit but I don't know if it's going to be enough against this disease, this horrible, horrible disease..."

"Daisy?"

The earth pony stopped.  Stared down from her soapbox at the trio.  Trembled where she stood, which was an impressive feat given that she'd reared back upon seeing them and two-legged vibration wasn't easy to balance -- especially while wearing the full-body custom-made Hoovmat Suit which rookie wild zone explorers used in the false, frequently self-imposed belief that it would help block out wild magic.  It did not.  The suits had all the resistance of tissue paper and tore somewhat more easily.  The only thing they were good for blocking was most of a pony's peripheral vision, which meant that whatever wasn't even remotely being stopped frequently also couldn't be seen coming.  The manufacturer avoided most lawsuits by selling them as a pure fashion item and mentioning that ponies might gain some 'incidental protective benefit', generally with a wink and smile which the buyer would spend long hours reflecting on in their hospital bed.  When confronted in court, said benefit turned out to be 'You're bright yellow from head to hoof and nopony else in the wild zone will mistake you for anything which needs attacking'.  Which was, in fact, absolutely true.  The fact that the bright yellow made those ponies a beacon for everything else had a certain detrimental effect on repeat sales.

The Flower Trio bought each other a fresh dozen on every member's birthday and were looking into local wholesaling as a means of keeping the cost down.  Besides, it was so clear that most of Ponyville was sadly lacking in the common sense which would lead to proper protection, but with a little education from the right ponies...

The Right Ponies spent enough time engaged in freelance education to have also invested in folding soapboxes.   

"What are you doing?" Twilight asked, already fully aware of the answer.

"Don't -- don't come any closer, Twilight!   Or you, Rarity!  Especially you!  You're sick and Twilight could be a carrier and Luna only knows what it might do to Spike!  He could -- catch fire!  Or catch cold!  Maybe he'll freeze everything around him!  Maybe he'll dissolve wood at a touch!  Or --"

She temporarily ran out of ill-dragon effects to randomly toss out, and the new arrivals used the break to consider the ponies who had been listening.  Some of the eight were shivering a bit, which Twilight didn't take as an immediate bad sign, or at least not as bad as it could have been.  The truly panicky were long-gone and those who had learned to ignore the Flower Trio typically continued to do so until the actual alarm sirens went off.  For the moment, these were the ponies on the border -- but there was no way to tell which side they would fall to.

"-- he could grow again!  Or shrink!  And the shrinking could be contagious!  We could all be a single hoof-height if we touched him!  Nopony let him get any --"

"-- Daisy," Twilight slowly began with a calm she didn't feel, "I'm going to talk now."

"-- everypony has to get to safety, we need to call Canterlot, we can't even count on the Elements when the Bearers are sick --"

The urge had been building for nearly three years.  Twilight finally gave in.

Daisy blinked at her.  Blinking was just about the only option left.

"Daisy," Twilight repeated, "I'm going to talk now.  Actually, we're going to talk now.  I won't come any closer and neither will Rarity or Spike.  But you're not going to leave until we've sorted this out.  Blink twice if you understand me."

Blink.  Blink.

"I'm going to put you back on the soapbox now," Twilight told her, "and then I'm going to release my field around your mouth, and your hooves, and everything else.  And you won't leave before we're finished settling this.  Because if you do, I'll just bring you back.  Okay?"

Another pair of blinks.

"All right," Twilight said, and let go.  

Daisy stood in place, her increased trembling already beginning to shred the seams of the suit.  The audience ponies held still, waiting.

"Can I ask you a question?" Twilight began.

"Twilight, you could be sick already, if Rarity's contagious...  we have to quarantine her, we almost lost the town when Apple Bloom got the cutie pox, if any more of those lions had shown up --"

"-- Daisy...  what kind of disease affects baked goods?"

This blink represented no kind of attempt to communicate.  "I...  I don't understand, Twilight..."

With more false calm, "You think Rarity's sick because her color has changed.  The color of the baked goods at Sugarcube Corner also changed.  How does a pastry catch a pony disease?"

To Twilight, it represented a simple moment of logic.  The most basic train of thought run down a short stretch of rail with no obstacles present on the perfect straightway.  An argument which would jump the track at the end, fly into the mountain of fear which loomed ahead, and take it out.  There was nothing which could stop that kind of train.  Nothing at all.

"...yeast?"

With the perpetual exception of pony stupidity.

"Yeast," Twilight slowly repeated.  She had no idea what Daisy meant, and the part of her which knew she was about to learn also dreaded the moment when she found out.

"Yeast," Daisy said a second time with certainty tripled and speed of speech accelerating towards absolute delusional fact.  "The Cakes use yeast for some of their baking, especially in the bread!  And yeast is alive!  The Cakes can't confine it to the bread pans!  Little bits of yeast must be all over the bakery, sinking into everything else they make -- and every pony who shops there!  So everything in the bakery changed!  And if you ate the stuff, then --"

Rarity, who had noticed the increasing rate of tremble in the audience, cut in.  "-- my own goods were affected, Flower Wishes," the designer calmly interjected, using the formal name as something which was assuredly not a direct means of attack, but if it just so happened to work out that way, good.  "You might recall that I sell clothing.  Dresses.  Scarves.  Jackets now and again, although not at this time of year.  Even overlooking that I had not been to Sugarcube Corner before opening my shop --"

" -- yeast in the air!  Open windows!"

" -- what is your proposal for clothing being able to contract an illness?"

Daisy needed a moment for that one.  "You use cotton," the flower seller eventually said.  "Linen.  Organic fabrics.  They came from things that were alive once, and if there was any bit, any tiniest bit imaginable inside the cloth which hadn't died yet, the yeast would have infected that."  

Two of the audience ponies snorted with laughter.  One more rolled her eyes and trotted away.

Which left the final blow to Spike.  "And the jewels?"

The force of this blink ruined the suit's crown.  "...jewels?"

"Gems," Spike said.  "Rarity uses gems in a lot of her designs, including some of her summer pieces.  Lighter ones, things which won't absorb too much Sun and heat up against the wearer's body."  (On his left, Rarity beamed with the joy of a teacher who had found an attentive student.)  "She had some on a few of the items she was selling today, and they changed.  What part of a gem was ever alive?"

"I...  I..."  

Another pony left, openly giggling all the way down the street.  The rest stayed around to watch the remainder of the play.

"...I don't know..." Daisy whispered, and her posture collapsed in defeat.

Twilight sighed.  It hadn't been as enjoyable as it had appeared in the dreams which had so often played out within her nightscape.  It hadn't been fun at all.  "Daisy, I'm sorry..." and she was surprised to find it was true "...but there are times when you just panic too easily, and you set other ponies off.  Sometimes there's an emergency -- but there's also times which aren't.  And either way, if you go around freaking out the populace, you're not doing anypony any good."

Daisy forced her head up, just enough to barely meet Twilight's eyes:  the movement put another pair of rips into the suit.  "But if it's not a disease...  what is it?"

"What Mr. Cake said," Twilight replied, her words carrying a very real degree of concern for the mare's feelings, one which brought equal surprise.  "He said it in front of the entire bakery, and you didn't think about it because you were scared:  that sort of thing happens and nopony's blaming you for it.  It's not a disease...  just a unicorn spell.  Somepony -- a tourist, not a native -- is going around casting this as a series of pranks, Daisy.  That's all.  It's perfectly ordinary magic...  okay, actually, it's new magic, a working I've never seen before and I really want to catch up with the caster so I can find out how it's being done --" pause.  Priority sort.  Resume.  "-- oh, and we also have to stop her and get the effects reversed."  Keeping her tones warm and caring, "But it's just a spell, Daisy...  a normal working.  I promise.  I would know."

There were tears in the green eyes now.  "...a... spell?"

Gently, "Yes."

And the earth pony was gone.

Her departing words hung around for a while, especially as they had been screamed with enough force to grant the echoes a good long life, bouncing off the shredded patches of Hoovmat Suit left behind in Daisy's sprinting wake.

"It's a spell!  It's a horrible, horrible spell!  Run for your lives, everypony!  Somepony from out of town is casting spells on us so we'll look evil and the Guards will think we're going to -- Celestia and Luna save us!  Mad unicorn!  Mad unicorn!"

What remained of the audience slowly turned to look at Twilight.

"Is she always like that?" a visiting pegasus stallion inquired.

"Yes..." Twilight slowly sighed.

"I'm very sorry."

"So am I..."

The other ponies trotted away.

A black snout gently nuzzled her neck, the nuzzle meant for friends.  "As am I, Twilight," Rarity said.  "You tried...  you truly did.  But when somepony is determined to be afraid, there is very little which will stop them from finding an excuse for it -- especially when there are two others waiting to reinforce every invented chain of false reason."

"Is it...  is it too much to hope that it'll be like the eclipse?  They'll just lock themselves in together and wait it out?"

Neither Rarity nor Spike could answer.  And so Twilight sighed again and resumed her slow trot, once again searching on feel for the unicorn they now had to locate all the faster.

"I feel stupid," Twilight softly said.

"You're not," Spike firmly replied.

"I feel stupid for even trying."

"And I?" Rarity said.  "Feel proud.  Because the failure was mutual, Twilight -- but so was the attempt..."

They moved in silence for a while, for no more words were currently necessary.  Twilight knew Rarity was on her left and Spike strode along at her right.

And to make her briefly feel a little better, it was all she needed to know.