//------------------------------// // The First Day // Story: Springtime for Sombra // by GreyGuardPony //------------------------------// Skitch would be lying if she said she wasn’t somewhat familiar with Noctum Quill’s type. One of her friends back on earth had- and presumably still was- a big fan of theatre, to the point where Jerrod had thrown himself into acting and improv during college. Over the years, Skitch had seen a few of the shows he was involved in and thusly had tangential contact with other theatre and acting people. The pony before her radiated a certain sense of smug superiority that she had seen in some of that crowd. At the moment though, that smug attitude was mixed with a kind of childlike glee as he looked around the stage, a wide grin playing across his muzzle. “Oh!” He exclaimed, Skitch and the rest of her small group forgotten as he rushed over to the actors. Hooves doing a nervous little half shuffle, half bouncy dance, he zipped from pair to pair, stopping long enough to hear some of the lines delivered, before moving onto the next group. Skitch, and her small group of ponies watched his display with mixed expressions of confusion and horror…mostly, anyway. Pinkie remained her usual cheerful self. “Aww! He looks so happy,” she grinned. “Maybe he isn’t that bad?” One of Flash’s eyebrows threatened to disappear into his mane as he gave Pinkie a look. “Did you read the script? Even if he’s well meaning, he’s seriously deluded.” Horn glowing, Skitch quickly swept up the pages she had been working on, passing the stack over to Rarity. “Rare, can you hide these for now? Time to put our game faces on.” “Of course darling. Coco and I will help Suri ‘work on the costumes’.” The fashion designers trotted off as Quill came sliding back over to Skitch. His enthusiasm seemed to have dipped a little bit, the wide grin having fallen from his features. “Well, I suppose it’s a start...no one really seems to be getting into their roles yet.” “I’m sure its because we haven’t had too much time to practice yet,” Skitch smiled. “And not because they aren’t worried about their reputations when involved in a play that insults one of Equestria’s princesses.” “Hmmm. Yes, you’re probably right.” Quill nodded. Skitch blinked, shooting a glance at Flash. The musician shrugged swiping a hoof over his head as Quill kept on speaking, seeming oblivious to the gesture. “I imagine that once they have more rehearsal time everything will be just smashing!” “Yeah….smashing.” Grumbling, Skitch trotted slightly downstage to get a better look at the actors running through their lines. Quill followed, settling into a seat at her side, the goofy grin having squirmed its way back into place. “I’m really curious to see what your process is,” he prattled on. “How do you manage your actors?” The hangover induced headache was beginning to return, Quill’s voice drilling straight to the base of her skull. She truly and desperately wanted this guy to just go away so that she could focus on finishing this stupid production, so she could claw a few more inches down the path to getting her house back and move out of the Apple’s guest room! Still, even through all of those angry thoughts bouncing about in her mind, she felt the need to point out one thing. “You do know that I’m not a director by trade, right?” “Ahh! But you have the creative spark! I can tell! Thusly, you have a process. Every creative pony has a process and I’m sure that you...humans, right? There must be a process there.” Skitch massaged her temple. “...Please stop talking about ‘the process’. Right now I’m just trying to see where everypony is at with their parts.” “Ahh, yes, of course. I’ll just watch here with you.” Flash looked at Pinkie, shaking his head. “Like we’re not even here.” Before Pinkie could respond, Quill twirled about, still quite excitable as he bounced on his hooves. “Oh, that’s right! The music, I almost forgot!” Just as quickly as he had rushed to Skitch’s side, he zipped back over to Flash, throwing a leg over his shoulder. The pegasus recoiled, a motion that Quill likewise seemed to be indifferent too. “Tell me my fine stallion, what have you written yet?” “Nothing,” Flash answered, slowly and steadily, as if he were speaking to a foal. “There are no songs in the scripts you left us, patter or otherwise. Lots of references to historical pieces and scores you want as background music, but those are already written!” Quill huffed, his tone becoming a bit more clipped now. “Just because I didn’t give you specific instructions to write musical bits, doesn’t mean that you shouldn’t have! Can’t you just throw something together?” Skitch groaned, already dreading where this was going. Never dismiss an artist’s craft if you knew what was good for you. And Flash had a mighty twitch developing in his right eye as he carefully removed Quill’s leg from his body. “Just throw something together?” he growled. “Sure. Should I just conjure up a little diddy about the tyrant princess of love?” “Yes! Exactly!” Over her few months of living in Equestria, Skitch had began to pick up on the nuances of pony body language, a fact made easier by how naturally expressive pony bodies were. The tail would twitch or droop, ears pull flat or swivel towards what the pony was listening too. Pegasai were even more expressive than that, thanks to their wings, which would flare, twitch, angle or flap depending on how they were feeling. Right now, Flash’s were flared, very clearly signaling his desire to deck this unicorn right on the snout. Pinkie also seemed to pick up on this, eyes quickly flicking from Flash to Quill and back again. Grinning, the party pony grabbed one of Flash’s forelegs, “Come on Flashie! Let’s go get a pretzel!” Spring Fields looked up mid sentence, eyes suddenly sparkling, her hooves already halfway across the stage. “I want a pretzel too!” She didn’t make it too far before Skitch’s magic aura sprang up around her. “And I’m sure that Pinkie will bring you one, but we’re busy right now. Keep running your lines.” The glare the actress shot her way could have frozen Skitch in place but she stalked back to her spot all the same. Quill trotted back over to her side, returning to watch his vision emerge from the collection of actors. “Pinkie?” Skitch called to her retreating friend. “Can you bring me some aspirin or whatever pain medication gets used around here?” “Oki doki loki!” With that, Skitch found herself trapped with Quill while vaguely insulting lines were read all around them. It wasn’t long before her mind began to wander to what kind of esoteric punishments Princess Cadance might come up with for her being involved in this travesty. Maybe she’d be turned into a crystal statue for the princesses front lawn. It would be the rather insane trend that her life had fallen into. Maybe she’ll make me emerald. It would match my coat color…. Assuming she can even do that. Can she do that? Just how powerful is she is as an alicorn anyway…. “Well this all looks in order,” Quill interrupted. “Care to show me the rest of the production so far?” “...Yeah, I suppose I can. Follow me.” - - - - Meanwhile, elsewhere in the city of Manehatten, the local offices of Perfect Pegasus Productions were buzzing with activity. Situated in a modest, three story brownstone the business started by the Flim-Flam brothers had began in a corner office of the building’s second floor, before spreading to cover half of said floor, providing plenty of space to interview new talent, run impromptu auditions, and manage both actors and the backstage aspects of the theater world. Despite their rising fortunes on the other side of Equestria- perhaps even because of that- the Manehatten offices remained rather modest looking in their decoration. While movies were climbing, Flim and Flam couldn’t divest themselves from the industry that they had made their money on. Flim was in a good mood as he strolled into the office this- admittedly late- morning, a thermos of piping hot coffee bobbing along in his aura. Rather than take the elevator, he trotted up the stairs like he did every morning that he was in Manehatten. One of the many small things he did to help stay in shape. “Morning Silver. Flam here yet?” Silver Mistral had started as a secretary almost a decade ago but her ambition hadn’t kept her there. The silvery-blue earth pony had risen to become the effective leader of this branch of the company, while the brothers worked on the movie business in Las Pegasus. Sitting at her desk, she peered over her glasses, the usual flood of of new paperwork and script proposals spread across its surface. “He is not. But there’s somepony here to speak with you. A Duke Blueblood? He’s in your office.” “Really?” Flim blinked. “...Suppose I should go see what he wants.” Weaving his way back to his private office, Flim pushed his way inside to indeed find Duke Blueblood idly fiddling with one of the awards that adorned the dark wooden desk that dominated the center of the room. Their eyes met as he entered, Flim giving his head an almost instinctive bow before sliding around to the other side of said desk. “Your Grace. How can I help you? ...Did you and Riche need something else?” “On the contrary. There has been a change in regards to the situation with Riche.” The way Blueblood spoke sent a nervous itch down Flim’s spine. Noble games were a annoying thing to be dragged into. “...What kind of change?” He frowned. “My understanding was that our involvement was done once the production was set up.” “My apologies Flim, but that previous arrangement just won’t work anymore.” “You want to renegotiate the deal? That’s not good business Blueblood.” “As I said. The situation has changed. I no longer want the human to fail. You and your brother are still the producers and have final say.” “And?” “It’s simple,” Blueblood shrugged. “Just don’t interfere with her. She’s going to go off script on the production if she's smart. Quite soon I imagine. Don’t try to stop what she’ll do.” “Yeah, great idea, save for when Riche then turns around to make our lives miserable. Why would I agree to this?” “Mostly because Riche has gone off the deep end. You were there Flim. I’m sure you picked up on that threat he leveled at the other Element Bearers?” Flim nervously fidgeted at that. It was true that he had picked up on what Riche had been implying. He just hadn’t really believed that the business pony was being serious about it. The Elements of Harmony were Equestria’s main line of defense against...well, things like the human, he supposed. “So, you do understand,” Blueblood nodded, leaning forward across the desk. “Understand me Flim. Riche’s obsession could endanger Equestria’s actual defenders. If the Element Bearers want their pet human, I’m inclined to give her to them.” “This still doesn’t help me! Riche will retaliate, he can make things difficult for us-” “So could I, and my fellow members of the Sun Court,” Blueblood shrugged. “I could also go to Celestia and spill the details of this scheme. Or you can just relax, do what I ask, and let my fellows and I handle things.” Frowning, Flim fidgeted with a few stacks of papers before finally giving a sigh. “Fine, Blueblood. I just really hope you know what you’re doing.” “Trust me, I have everything in hoof.” - - - - “...and this is where the sets are being built.” Skitch finished with a wave of her hoof. The sets were the last stop on the “tour” of the production. It was perhaps somewhat appropriate that Glittering Quartz had set up the workshop in the basement, where she and a half dozen other ponies hammered away. The angular spires of the Crystal Empire were being re-created in wood, plaster and paint, with an almost insane level of detail. Of course, now that Quartz and Quill were in the same room, the former was glaring daggers at the latter, who remained blissfully unaware of the hate that was being thrown his way. Instead, he trotted from piece to piece, slowly running a hoof along their edge or inspecting the paint with a soft “hmm”. He had done the exact same thing with the wardrobe, though Skitch wasn’t sure he could have spoken intelligently on either subject matter. But after inspecting the sets for a while, Quill came trotting back over to her. “I have to say, everything is looking good so far. You’re doing quite well.” “Thanks.” “I suppose we should get back to our actors then,” Quill nodded. “Lots more work to do!” “Ah. So, you’re...going to be staying then?” “Of course! This is going to be my most brilliant production ever! Two hooves in and all that kind of stuff! Come on!” With that, he spun on his hooves and charged back up the stairs. Skitch watched him go in a stunned silence, before rubbing her forehead and sighing, a gesture that she felt she’d be doing a whole lot of in the presence of this stallion. She had hoped that he’d just swing by and then run off to do other things, giving them more time to work on the replacement play. But now? All nighters seemed like the order of the day. “Skitch?” Quartz had approached with a stack of drawings in paw. Skitch raised an eyebrow, flipping through the pages. Each one depicted the various set pieces that her group was currently working on, with additional sketches showing how they could be easily modified to be more modular. Crystal Empire in one state, whatever else they wanted in the next. “Smooth ideas there Quartz. Just don’t over exert yourselves. It’s probably going to be rough leading up to the premiere.” “Don’t concern yourself with our department,” Quartz nodded. “Just tell me what you want as soon as you have the script done. I’ll make sure the sets are ready.” With a nod, Skitch shuffled back up the stairs and towards the stage. If she wanted to get her home back, best to just suck it up and deal with Quill and his attitude. By the time she caught back up with him, the writer had situated himself in the center of the upstage and was back to watching each group of actors intently. A quill and paper had been pulled from his own saddlebags and he scribbled away, presumably taking notes on how well the cast was meeting his “vision”. The emblem of a turquoise crystal stood out from the white of the saddlebags themselves, catching Skitch’s eye as she moved to sit down. A single spire of the crystal was the center of the emblem, stretching upwards before a snow capped mountain peak. In true coat of arms style, the peak was surrounded by flourishes that surely meant something. On the right was a wavy roll of scroll, covered in flowing script, while on the left it was hemmed in by a curved line of ants. A pair of crossed spears, wrapped in sheafs of wheat made the bottom of the crest, while another section of flowing scroll work proudly declared a name. Sombra. So, it is a family crest, Skitch thought, settling back on her haunches. “You question me?” Spring Fields sniffed, voicing the role of “Cadance”. “Am I not the embodiment of love? Do I not understand the flows of emotion? The twangy tugging upon the hearts upon ponies? Sombra is a cheat and a liar! Trust me. He must be imprisoned!” The lines just make Skitch want to shudder. She hadn’t seen such a horrible butchering of a character since...well, many fandom interpretations of Princess Celestia really. Having met Princess Cadance only made it worse. She didn’t need ponies slandering her like this. “She could use a little more disdain in her voice, I think. What do you think?” “Disdain isn’t usually what I associate with Cadance,” Skitch frowned, unable to entirely keep her own disdain from her voice. “Kind of helped save my life a little while back but, whatever, its your vision after all.” Quill tsked, shaking his head at the revelation. “Oh dear. I was hoping she hadn’t gotten to you already.” And, here it was. The mania behind the pony that was probably the seed of his bad reputation. Trying to head off the madness, Skitch gave a noncommittal grunt of a response, suddenly very interested in Marigold Button’s performance of Sombra. The actor seemed rather bored with the lines he was reading, perhaps even resigned to something. But Quill didn’t heed the brush off and instead plowed right on. “I know you’re new to Equestria, Miss Sketch. In fact, I was quite eager to meet somepony that had an outsiders view of our world, but you can’t trust her. Princess Cadance is quite the conniving figure.” She really didn’t want to hear this right now but since the damned fool seemed intent on venting the whole of his personal conspiracy manifesto upon her, Skitch fell back to her next logical option. Fein interest until the person ranting just stopped talking. It was a vital tactic for anyone who grew up in the big city, where you might occasionally find people ranting on street corners. “Mmm. Really?” “Oh, yes! Surely you can understand why?” Quill glowered, beginning to speak a bit faster now. “Emotions are the currency which she buys and sells ponies with. A wink and a smile and everypony just immediately buys into the idea that she’s somehow benevolent, despite being the only pony to walk out of what was the Crystal Empire! And then, not too long after, she’s suddenly an alicorn!” “Princess Celestia seems to trust her….” “Ah, yes. The one who banished her little sister to the moon. Hardly a role model. I’m sure they’re both involved.” He leaned closer to Skitch, voice dropping into a conspiratorial tone. “Mark my words. We live in a state of silken tyranny.” You wouldn’t know tyranny if it bit you on the ass. Is what Skitch thought, and dearly wanted to say, the pile rising in the back of her throat. Instead, she shrugged. “Look, I’ll admit that I don’t really know everything about Equestria, but everypony seems pretty happy with how things are-” “The same way everypony seems to think you’re a monster? Or am I just supposed to ignore all those newspaper stories?” Skitch’s muzzle snapped shut, the human turned pony settling into a deep, glowering pout. It wasn’t the same! He was latching onto conspiracy theories without a shred of evidence that came right out of no where! What was happening to her was...a bunch of ponies buying into a bunch of unfounded fears about her very existence, willing to believe that she had horrible plans for them all. On second thought, perhaps there were some more similarities between the two situations. Still doesn’t make Sombra any less of a monster. Though, it probably couldn’t hurt to make myself better informed on what he actually did. The droning line reads crept onwards, an itch beginning to settle in under her coat. I hope that Pinkie was able to calm Flash down a bit at least. - - - - “Better, Flashie?” The pretzel was good, and during the long walk to find a pretzel cart that was “just right” in Pinkie’s words, his anger had faded...most of it at least. Popping the last bit in his mouth, he nodded before swallowing. “Yeah, I am feeling a bit better now. I just...ugh...that pony makes me so mad!” Pinkie nodded sympathetically. “I’m sorry Flashy. He really is...uhh...well…,” she trailed off lamely for a moment. “Could use some more friends?” Flash chuckled at that, “Yeah, he probably could. We should probably be getting back soon though.” Passing a few more bits to the pretzel vendor, Pinkie balanced another treat on her nose as they began to trot back towards the theatre. Weaving their way through the flowing crowds of ponies and other creatures, Pinkie continued to chat with animated vigor. “Once he’s gone though, we can work on the other play! I can’t wait!” Flash raised an eyebrow, “You’re pretty excited about a whole pile of extra work. Why?” With a quick flick of her nose, Pinkie transferred the pretzel to the top of her head. “Duh, Flashie, it’s obvious! Marigold Button playing King Sombra? Talk about your miscasting! I can’t wait to see what he’ll do with a human comedy! This is his element!” “Funny,” Flash smirked. “I thought that comedy was your Element?” “Laughter, Flashie.” Pinkie corrected, still smiling all the while. “Not always the same thing. Mister Button is a much better comedian than me. He’s super-duper funny! The grand master of giggles! The hammer of hecklers! She was laying it on rather thick, but she was obviously a fan, so Flash couldn’t really blame her. Everypony had their obsessions after all. “Yeah,” he smiled, shaking his head slightly. “Too bad this is probably going to be his last production-” “What?” Pinkie’s face was scrunched up in confusion, head cocked slightly. “But...we’re going to do a different play. He won’t have to worry!” A distinct sinking sensation was building in Flash’s stomach as he looked over at the earth pony. “Pinkie...he’s retiring either way. He’s just burnt out with it all.” “WHAT?!” Pinkie was standing leg locked, eyes wide and tail drooping. The pretzel had fallen to the ground, not that she seemed to care about that or the half dozen ponies immediately around them that had jumped back from the outburst. Flash had likewise recoiled from Pinkie’s shout, but he collected himself again and nodded. “Sorry Pinkie Pie. He’s been talking about how tired he’s been of the whole scene since joining the production and how this was going to be the last one.” Pinkie’s eyes were wide, almost manic, hair and mane drooping towards the ground. “But...he’s still one of the funniest ponies EVER! He’s a great actor! How...how can he just give up?! Equestria needs him! I- I need to fix this!” “There...are other comedians out there Pinkie.” Flash blinked. “I mean...I feel for you. Some of my favorite musicians have retired or died. You just-” But before he could share his words of wisdom, Pinkie was gone, already a blur of pink almost a block ahead of where she was just standing. With a groan, Flash galloped after her. She needed to calm down before she did something she’d regret. Pinkie’s speed was frightening and she wove between the crowds like liquid, rapidly leaving Flash in the dust. “Excuse me! “Shove off buddy!” “Coming through!” “HEY!” “Could you move please!” “Go take a walk!” “For the love of-” Flash growled, throwing caution to the wind and taking wing. Pinkie may have had the hoof speed advantage (somehow), but he had wings and was quite sure that he knew the city better than her. Forgetting about chasing the pink pony, he instead cut over the roof tops, catching an errant thermal to soar a bit higher as he pointed himself towards the Palace Theatre. The roof tops of Manehatten were almost another neighborhood in the city. A small army of rooftop gardens, pigeon coops, and other marks of the domestic lives and hobbies that ponies engaged in lay scattered across their surfaces. Residents wandered among them and other pegasi occasionally fluttered by. Swooping through the air, Flash kept occasionally glancing down at the ground below and Pinkie Pie’s path through the crowds. He was outpacing her but not by much as they both closed in on the the theatre. “Look out!” Flash threw himself in a tight spin, barely avoiding the pair of pegasi who were moving a couch right through the airspace where he had been trying to fly. Hissing through his teeth, Flash flared his wings, putting a brake on the wild descent. The sudden interruption had sent him spinning off course and Pinkie was pulling ahead, of course. A flick of his wings straightened him back out and another sent him shooting after Pinkie again. Folding his wings back, he dropped lower, skimming over a growing patch of roses. The momentum carried him over cramped alley way, his wings pumping to find more lift among the concrete canyons. Dipping, he banked between two buildings, and over a sparsely filled clothesline before throwing himself into another dive. Pinkie’s hoof was an inch from the door when Flash landed. Throwing his forelegs about her barrel, he shifted his weight, effectively spinning Pikie by away from the door and bringing them face to face. She looked shocked at first, but that rapidly gave way to a genuine glare of anger that seemed quite out of place on her face. “Flashie! What are you doing?! I need to-” “What you need to do is calm down! Things are chaotic enough right now without you bursting in there to whine at Marigold.” “But-” “It’s his career Pinkie. He has the right to decide when its over.” Pinkie’s lower lip quivered for a moment, before she pushed on. “But what if he’s making a mistake? Ponies can think they’re doing the right thing and still make mistakes! Skitchy’s made mistakes, Twilight’s made mistakes. All my friends have made mistakes! They didn’t give up!” “But he’s also not the youngest stallion either,” Flash frowned. “He’s almost sixty. He’s been performing for almost forty years now. He was performing before there was even a vaudeville scene! But now that market is shrinking some. Seems like a good enough time as any to call it quits.” “He could still act in movies though!” “Maybe he doesn’t want to! I mean...what’s your plan here? Just run in there and tell him he can’t quit?” Pinkie’s mane and tail seemed to take on a noticeable droop, even as she anxiously danced in place, almost bouncing from hoof to hoof, eyes wide and pleading. “I just want to talk to him! Tell him how much he means to all his fans! It’s just...not fair….” Frowning, Flash considered that. While he did truthfully believe that Marigold had the right to retire when he wanted, he also was quite sure that he wouldn’t be able to forcibly corral Pinkie all day. It probably would also be good for her to hear Marigold’s decision from himself. Right now she was lost deep in her own fan connection with the pony, too deep for him to get through to her, he guessed. “Okay. But,” he quickly amended at the wide smile that had instantly returned to Pinkie’s face. “Can you wait until after Quill leaves? Everypony has enough on their minds while he’s here. We don’t want to stress them out more.” There was a pause as Pinkie considered his words, face scrunched up in deep thought, and for a moment Flash was afraid that she’d try to squirm out of his grip. But then she nodded and smiled again. “Oki-dokey-loki!” Sighing, Flash let go of her. “Right. Let’s go see how your friend is dealing with Quill. Hopefully she hasn’t done anything stupid.” - - - - While Flash and Pinkie had been conducting their cross city chase, Rarity had holed up in the wardrobe room, with Coco and Suri. Aside from the brief moment when Skitch and Quill had popped in to check in on the costumes, it was quite quiet within the room. There wasn’t much for the trio to do until they knew exactly what kind of costumes would be needed for the new production. And even then, it seemed that minor modifications were going to be the order of the day. So, Rarity turned her attention to her father’s project, working on the sketches for the Equestrian Team uniforms. They were coming along in her opinion. Her best design right now consisted of a uniform that was mostly white for it’s base color, with a diagonal stripe running across the breast of the shirt, half gold, half silver, with a thinner pink line separating the two halves. The colors for the three princesses, the very soul of Equestria to some ponies, seemed like quite a solid starting point. Still, she really wanted to work something about the tribes into the design...perhaps a crest on the shoulder sleeves would be for the best? With a sigh, she dropped her pencil, massaging her forehead with a hoof. No, that was far too obvious and limiting. It seemed that, for whatever reason, her creativity was struggling with this project. The sleeves were too long, as were the legs on the shorts. While she doubted anypony would trip over them, they still were more restrictive than she would like. A hoofball player needed to be able to move! The ideas just weren’t flowing and Rarity had a good idea why. The argument with her father and following conversation with Pinkie Pie still sat in the back of her mind. At the very least, she owed her father an apology- “What are you working on there?” Blinking, Rarity looked up into the inquisitive face of Suri Polomare. Her brownish eyes were locked upon the sketchbook’s page. Professional curiosity, Rarity expected. “Oh, just some uniform designs for my father. Hoofball and the like.” “Those look gorgeous!” Suri smiled. “But I am surprised you haven’t recognized me yet.” Rarity blinked, her mind grinding back into gear as she tried to place face, coat and cutie-mark to the name. Nothing seemed to be rising from the surface though. “I’m sorry darling, but I’m just struggling to place you.” She admitted with a wince. “The Ponyville Knitter’s Club? Must have been six years ago?” The mention of the knitter’s club knocked a few memories loose. The bi-weekly meetings had been one of the places where Rarity began to build bridges in Ponyville for what would become Carousel Boutique, getting a feeling for the market in the town and what they wanted. Suri had been there, but by her memory, she had only been there for a few years before moving away. “Oh! It’s coming back to me now. You moved here after leaving Ponyville then?” “Oh yeah! Big city bound and off to make my fortune! And now here I am, a Manehatten designer.” “I’m happy to hear that darling.” Rarity smiled. “Though, it’s not like I’m the only one of us who's had some success, m’kay! Fashion designer, Element of Harmony and national hero!” Rarity chuckled, but she did enjoy the praise all the same. “You’re being quite the flatterer.” “But it’s true! Ponyville is turning out lots of important ponies it seems. Especially if you’re designing hoofball uniforms for…,” she paused. “Actually, I’m not sure you said which team your father works for.” “Canterlot. But these designs,” she began, tapping a hoof against the sketches, “are for the World Cup next year-” With a gasp, Suri yanked the sketchbook out of Rarity’s hooves, examining them with a fresh set of eyes. “Rarity...it looks like you're hesitating.” “Just...family difficulties. Don’t worry yourself about it.” “Are you sure? I mean, it’d be horrible for you to be distracted while we’re working, m’kay.” “Really, darling. I can manage. I’ll talk to him later.” “Why not do it now?” The question had come from Coco Pommel, peeking from behind one of the racks of costumes that she had been fiddling with. “We aren’t doing any real work until tonight. This is probably a good time to do it.” Considering that, Rarity found herself nodding in agreement. Surely, Skitch wouldn’t mind her seeing to family business while she kept Quill busy? Her father was probably hanging around Manehatten’s stadium, getting ready for tomorrow night’s game. She could grab a cab, ride down there, apologize to her father, and be back in time for the work tonight. Yes, that was the plan. “Thank you Coco, I think I will do just that. Can I trust you two to watch things for now?” “Don’t worry Rarity. We’ll make sure the outfits don’t get up and walk away, m’kay.” Not needing anymore convincing, Rarity scooped up her sketchbook and trotted off. Suri watched her go for a moment, before turning to her assistant. “Keep an eye on things Coco. I’m going to go take care of something myself, m’kay?” “Oh. Okay Suri.” Coco then watched Suri sweep from the room as well, leaving the young fashion designer alone with her thoughts. With a slight sigh of her own Coco dug a sketchbook out of her saddlebags and began to doodle. Perhaps, someday, she’d be actually be able to see her designs to fruition. Someday.