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// [Z] Conversations About Amethyst Star, Fancy Pants, and Sonny Weathers 
// Story: The Last Illusion 
// by ScientistWD 
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	“That’s so interesting,” said Rarity. “And it writes all by itself? Completely unprompted?”
“Yep!” called Miss Doo from the kitchen.
“The thing’s kind of a jerk, actually,” muttered Amethyst Star. She sat on a chair apart from the other mares, sipping her own tea quietly.
Rarity set down her cup, and ruffled through a few of the scribe’s pages herself. “What marvelous penmanship. I certainly would not mind such an eloquent parchment find and chaperone me. I can just imagine the words it would use!” She then used the pages to hide a small burp.
“It does a pretty good job, but I don’t really know what I’m gonna do with it,” Miss Doo continued, Rarity’s teapot balanced precariously on her back. “It’s not like I’m—“
Swish! The purple aura of Rarity’s magic managed to rescue the teapot just in time. It had nearly fallen to the floor in Miss Doo’s absentmindedness.
“D-do be careful, dear,” she asked somewhat nervously. “Your carpet may not have forgiven you for that.” She hovered it to kindly refill her tea. “More for you, Ditzy?”
“Oh! Yes, please.” She sat down.
“And you, Amethyst dear?”
Amethyst dear frowned. With a skill quite mature for her age, her teacup hovered to the table before she simply stood up. She walked to the door.
“Amethyst?”
She droned impatiently in response. “It’s curfew. Gotta go.”
“Oh, is it that time already?” Rarity looked out the window a quick moment before returning. It was night. “Let me walk you back.”
“No, I can make it fine,” starkly. “See you at work.” Magically and quietly, the door closed behind her to leave an empty silence behind.
Rarity let out a sigh. “That girl. I only spend one day a week in Canterlot for work, and she manages to keep my little store open still two more by herself. She works so hard, even without being asked. But she’s still so stubborn! I just cannot figure it out.”
“Oh…” Miss Doo reached for her tea, and held it in her lap. “I think she just wants to be… like, independent?”
“That, I understand, Ditzy Doo,” she conceded. “Me, I know what it’s like to want independence; for most of my young years, my parents would leave me with my little sister. Sometimes for months. All of that time, all I wanted was to function without them. Poor Sweetie Belle and I had quite a few disagreements… Some days I’m still afraid she hasn’t forgiven me for the things I said… But regardless. I’m trying my hardest to connect with our Amy, but that little mare is all business!”
Miss Doo’s mouth twisted as if she didn’t know what else to say.
Rarity sighed. “Maybe she’s just had troubles with authorities. Her old residence, that dreadful Oaks place, Fancy Pants and his associates only recently purchased it and got those poor children someplace that allows them their own lives. But I would think that after that and after meeting a decent pony to work for, she would understand… A shame, it really is. She’s a good worker, and a very smart girl. Don’t you think so?”
“Ahm!” Surprised, she nearly spilled her tea. “I mean… she’s a little mean sometimes, but… I don’t know, you’ve known her longer than I have, probably! How long has it been, like a month since she started?” It had been nigh that long since the scribe wrote last.
“That seems right,” from Rarity. “But in that time, during that intriguing journey of yours here, she never once was kind?”
Miss Doo cocked her head. “Well, I mean, she wasn’t that mean to me, personally. Just kind of kept to herself around everypony else. Oh! You know what it might be? Maybe she… um… maybe she…” Miss Doo’s eyes crossed a moment, her tongue tripping on her words. But she perked back up in a quick moment. “Maybe she doesn’t like really successful ponies? She complained a lot about some, like some of her fellow orphans and stuff. She talked like they were really smart, or talented, and that because of all that they were like, entitled and mean?”
“Ah, perhaps that could be it. We’ve all met ponies like that. I just hope she warms up to SOMEpony, is all…”
Eyes now downcast with odd worry, Miss Doo stared a bit into her tea. She had been slow to drink the murky brown water. Settling for less, she ran her hoof along the edges of the cup. It let small noise. Until her wandering thoughts found something. “Oh…!” she began. “Did you say Fancy Pants?”
Rarity answered. “Yes…? I did. Why?”
“That’s a real name!?”
“Ditzy Doo,” the mare all but scolded. “Fancy Pants is one of the most important ponies in Canterlot, as well as an invaluable asset for the culture and economy of almost all of Equestria. Surely, you know this?”
Miss Doo shied. “Oh… I didn’t know… Sorry, I um, just moved here.”
“Oh it’s fine, it’s quite alright, Ditzy. But why do you ask?”
Miss Doo rose to her hooves, prying through the papers on the coffee table. “I got a letter from a pony by that name the other day…”
“What!?”
The letter had been beneath a few brochures and advertisements. The least of which had been crowding the table. “Here it is!” chirped Miss Doo. “‘Fancy Pants’ sounded kind like a fake name, but when you brought it up a minute ago it hit me!” She passed it to Rarity.
Rarity lifted the envelope to her eyes. The message inside had been revealed.

Apologies for not properly introducing myself in Hoovesvale. But I hope that this might make it up to you.
It is a pleasure to invite you to the Benevolent Ball!
Though I did not get the impression that you were a particularly wealthy pony,
I do think that your company will be greatly appreciated.
Each attendant is allowed a guest, as well. Events like these can be quite drab if one finds oneself out of place, after all.
So, please do join us!

There was a ticket.

Benevolent Ball, Attendant
Time: First Day of Summer
Place: Magmia
On Behalf of: Fancy Pants, Honorable Host

Enclosed was another ticket, much shorter.

Benevolent Ball, Guest
Time: First Day of Summer
Place: Magmia
On Behalf of: Ditzy Doo, Attendant

Rarity spoke with a barred voice. “My word Ditzy Doo, I never thought you had it in with Canterlot’s high elite.”
“Plus, I’ve never even heard of this 'Magmia'.”
“Magmia, dear, is a stunning and lugubriously expensive event center rented only by the most daring of hosts!” Her voice was rising with excitement. “So glamourously wealthy in that it is located in Fire Mountain, an actual volcano! Ditzy Doo, you’ve been invited to one of the biggest charity events of the next three years! Not even I was invited, and I know Fancy personally, just as well!”
“Oh… Aw! Why didn’t he invite you?”
Rarity sighed. “I suppose Fancy has a certain formula for these things… no matter, I suppose.”
“Hey, it’s okay, I’ll invite you as my guest!”
“No.”
“What…?”
“Hm hm hm…!” Rarity chuckled softly, hiding her nose with a teacup to her lips. Her eyelashes came down, taking a somewhat sinister and scheming look. “Oh, make no mistake, Miss Doo,” she lilted. “There is nothing I would like more than to attend such a brimming ball with all my glamour and beauty in tow. But! If I had read the words of your ‘scribe’ correctly… There is another pony. A pony much more deserving of your company than I, mind you. And I think that this pony, special as they are, would be far more appropriate as your ‘guest’. If you know what I mean.”
Rarity winked.
Miss Doo cocked her head. “Amy?”
“No, not Amy!” She puffed out proud, now determined for her answer. “Enough games, Ditzy Doo! Talk! Just who is Sonny Weathers?”
Her eyes went wide as a smile smeared across her face. “Eep! Nopony!” Miss Doo left a comic puff of smoke as she dashed for the kitchen. “Muffin?” she called, nonchalant best she could.
The muffins this evening had been prepared as follows:

two cups flour
tablespoon baking powder
half tablespoon salt
half tablespoon cinnamon
half cup raisins
two and one half tablespoons sugar
one egg
three quarters cup milk
quarter cup butter
bake 375 degrees for twenty six minutes

“Don’t you change the subject, Ditzy Doo!” she called after her. “Detective Rarity can smell romance a mile away!”
“…” Miss Doo did not respond. Quickly distracted, she was looking out the window, head in the clouds. Canterlot was quite bright at night, it seems. She was only on the third floor of Drury Lane, and could not see far past the next building over. But, there was a small window leading out to the blackness of space. As much was the direction in which Miss Doo stared, but there was much doubt as to whether she was really seeing. An odd, dreamy smile was on her face, eyes twinkling in what little light was—
“Goodness Ditzy have you even read what this paper is writing about you?” from Rarity. She had her eyes on the scribe. “The signs are quite clear! I would like a muffin, also. Please.”
Miss Doo returned with two muffins. “It’s not like that, Rarity, its… it, we just. I just see him at work sometimes. He’s….” Miss Doo twiddled her hooves together. “He’s just an old friend from Cloudsdale.”
“Just an ‘old friend’, hm?” raised the white unicorn. “And just how ‘old’ is this ‘friend’ of yours? Why not ask him to a fun night out?”
“I don’t know! Maybe? We. I can’t…!” Miss Doo hid her reddening face in her hooves. Her tongue was jammed, and her voice was squealing. “We’re not that ‘that’ kind of friends okay settle down Rarity I’m losing it over here we’re just friends that’s all it’s no big deal okay okay okay??”
Rarity pat the poor mare on the shoulder. Miss Doo’s were quivering, shaking her head like she was chilly. She mumbled into her hooves as they covered her mouth, and Rarity offering a bit of a friendly nuzzle. “Now, now,” she started, glancing to her face for an answer. Miss Doo’s mouth hidden as it was was rent left and right, bemused by its own emotions. “It’s okay to admit it, darling. The sooner you admit to love, the sooner—“
“I’m NOT!” she wailed. Swiftly, angrily one of her hooves jerked to the coffee table, jarring it from its place and sending a muffin to the floor along with half a dozen fluttering pages. The couch was thrown a few inches when her wings staggered at the same time. She squeezed her eyes shut. She covered her ears. And her teeth dug into her lips, almost too hard.
In epic shock, Rarity flinched and stood up. “D-Ditzy Doo!” she shouted, panicked. “It’s…! I’m dreadfully sorry, please calm down!”
Miss Doo stopped, feathers still drifting to the floor and ears still covered by her hooves. Blonde bangs hid her eyes from her guest, but beneath she was staring blankly with something slick and cold. A few pages were still floating, breezing downwards like confetti. A dent in the carpeted floor was left where the foot of the sofa used to be. The same was the case for the coffee table, a bit chipped, and no longer in line with its contemporaries. Unlike the rest, Rarity had not been impacted in her outburst, either by chance or by design. Difficult to say. It had only been a moment, after all.
Miss Doo closed her eyes. She took in a deep breath, drawing quivered air in. She exhaled. She relaxed.	
It was almost a whisper. “We’re just friends. It… it’s better that way, you know? It… i-i-it… i-it’s not…” she stuttered, shying from the subject and rubbing her eyes a bit. Soon, she came to. “I-I… S-sorry about that! I got a little worked up, I guess.” She gave a weak smile.
Rarity’s eyes went to Miss Doo with concern, yet they were ajar. An awkward smile in return grazed her face. “It’s… quite alright, Ditzy. Just… try to control yourself.”
They did not make eye contact.
“Let’s pick up these pages, okay? I guess I’ll take em to work on Monday.” Ditzy Doo lifted herself from her couch, reaching onto the floor and under the table for scattered pages.
“Erm… quite,” Rarity hesitantly agreed.