//------------------------------// // 53. Darkest Chocolate // Story: Fuzzy Fluffy Fables // by Fuzzyfurvert //------------------------------// Dance music wafted through the tiny building up from the phonograph turntable in the back corner while the faint smell of paint wafted through the air. Most of the shop’s windows were open to disperse the fumes, but the tepid breeze flowing in from the warm Manehattan summer really wasn’t helping keep it from lingering. The soon-to-be first location of Coco Couture looked twice as big as it was, now that the walls were all invitingly white. The floor was covered in paint-splattered newsprint to protect the polished hardwood while the area rugs, furniture, and various shelves and racks were all stacked and ready in the back storeroom. On the last wall, right across from the door, the old paint still bled through, though it was quickly being covered by a second coat of white. A wide grin curved Coco Pommel’s lips as her hips and hooves moved in time with the music and the words sung in some eastern Stirrupean language. White paint dotted both her cheeks and clothes in a careless manner, her short hair pulled back in a ponytail and stuck through the back of her Canterlot Wondercolts ball cap to keep the paint off. The effort was apparently worthwhile, however, as primer already splatter the team’s logo to the point of illegibility. Coco ‘sang’ along—if mouthing a rough approximation of the sounds around a paint brush counted as singing—bending to dip her roller in the tray once more. She could have had professionals handle the painting, but after her meeting with Rarity two summers before, she found herself inclined to be more self sufficient. Plus, it saved bits. The front of her simple coverall outfit was just as splattered with errant blots of white as her ball cap, but she’d cut the rear pant legs very short to mitigate the heat of the season. The jean shorts that she was finally comfortable wearing, rode up even higher and a few strands of her blue hair slid down across her eyes as she moved. Coco glanced up, mouth still moving along to the song and blue eyes absent, lost in the rhythm of the upbeat music. The empty shop suddenly dimmed and Coco found herself with company and paintbrush to chest with a tall mare that was as black as the walls were white. The roller flew into the air with a loud squeak and she stepped back… right against the freshly painted wall. “Oh dash it all, Nightmare! Don’t sneak up on me like that!” “What? Do you wish me to appear with some sort of noise? Perhaps a spirited call of ‘Boo!’ before I emerge into your waking awareness?” Nightmare Moon exclaimed innocently, holding a cobalt armored hoof to her chest. “Would you rather something more appropriate for a haunting? A low moan, or rattling chains? Or maybe just the chill of death blowing across the back of your neck? I am a Goddess, not some dime a dozen poltergeist.” “You almost scared the horseapples outta me! And now I’m covered in paint!” Coco wailed in distress, twisting around in vain to survey the damage to her coat and rear. “You were already covered in paint.” Nightmare Moon pointed out, laughing idly. “And I ruined the wall! Thanks to you, my backside is going to be imprinted on the wall of my shop. Really, I was sort of intending to use promotional material for that.” Coco’s rolled her eyes and finally gave up trying to look at her backend. “Why must I be the one that gets cursed with you?” “What? I didn’t push you into the wall, now did I? In fact, I seem to recall it was your clumsy flailing that broke my precious vase, mere moments after it was unearthed. Yet another of your attempts to save a day’s wage by doing the work yourself. Whoever heard of a mare breaking ground for building? It’s a blessing my enchantment upon it was still active! Curse indeed...have I not supplied you with invaluable advice? Have I not aided you every step of the way in this fool’s business of yours? If either of us is cursed, it is surely me!” The Nightmare smiled wickedly, twirling her hoof around in a slow circle. “Turn around. Let me survey the this tragedy that is you rear.” “I’m probably going to have to chop all of my tail off now.” Coco grumbled angrily as she did as bidden. “I said I was sorry about the vase, didn’t I? It’d been over a thousand years since you left that stuff here, so it’s a surprise any of it survived. I am grateful...but my tail! I have a meeting with another investor tonight!” “It’s just paint. It’ll wash out…eventually. I swear, you modern ponies are all full of back talk and ingratitude. In my time, ponies knew their place.” Nightmare Moon burst into laughter seeing the large white stain. “Your courtesan’s attire isn’t so bad. It might yet be saved with a proper washing. Your tail, sadly, took most of it.” Her gaze lingered a little on said white-covered blue tail. “Oh great.” The song playing on the phonograph ended with a final whistle of flutes and high pitched voices. “I was enjoying that.” Coco continued to whine. She cast a disgruntled look over her shoulder at the tall spectre. “Are you done looking yet? I wanted to finish the room before lunch.” Nightmare Moon nodded, her gaze still firmly on Coco’s tail and backside. “I was enjoying the song, too. You move well when set to music.” “Are you checking me out?” Coco asked suspiciously, flicking her tail and watching Nightmare Moon’s odd draconic eye track the movement. The spirit—or ghost, or whatever she was—was strangely cute in her single mindedness. She truly was a font of advice when it came to handling the paperwork and clerks and wealthy investors involved with making Coco Couture a reality. A service she supplied in exchange for certain...benefits. “I may be.” Nightmare Moon answered evasively, grinning and stepping back for a better view. Her hoof landed right in the tray of wet paint, passing through it as easily as a living pony passed through an open door. “Again? We’ve been stuck with each other for months and summer’s almost over, too. Aren’t you used to it yet?” Her eyes rolled up to the ceiling in mock exasperation, her own mouth twitching into a smile. “I am accustomed to it, yes. However, I am used to having a full harem of willing ponies to fulfill my every whim and desire. My pleasure was their only concern. Now, all I have is you.” Nightmare Moon murmured quietly, leaning forward to kiss the curve of Coco’s ear. A gentle shudder ran down the living mare’s spine at the barely felt touch. “So my appetite is understandably...prodigious.” “You might wanna stay back. You’ll get paint all over your clothes, too.” Coco teased, turning back around. Nightmare Moon glanced down at herself, her eyebrows rising. She wore her ancient armor of cobalt and obsidian, gray-blue metal covering her chest, hooves and head. “I’m incorporeal, Coco.” She pointed out dryly. “I cannot get paint on myself, no matter how I try.” “Right. But I don’t think intentionally rubbing yourself all over me is the point.” Coco remarked as she stepped over to pick up her discarded roller. She missed the smirk on the spirit’s face. “I think that’s exactly the point.” “Wha?” She straightened and blinked in surprise as one arm wrapped around her waist, heedless of wet paint, and the other pushed up the bill of her cap. “Rubbing myself all over you sounds like a great idea. Or at least… something very close to it.” “Oh…” Her face flooded with color. “I walked right into that one, too, didn’t I?” “Yes. You did.”