Chapter the Second: Intrusive Introductions
Dear Princess Celestia,
Where are you now?
Despite the purest of my intentions, I cannot do any justice to the overwhelming sorrow that the three Apple youngsters felt the following day as Mr. Wright called the carriage to a stop in front of what had once been their home. Though they had hoped with all of their hearts to the contrary, it was immediately apparent that Mr. Wright had not exaggerated even in the slightest when describing the devastation of the fire. In front of them stretched acres upon acres of land that, though once green and lush with life, was now charred and blackened. All that was left of their family’s household was a heap of soot and grey rubble, and the mere structural outline of the foundations. In stunned silence, the siblings walked together through the decimated entryway of what had once been their home.
“You know,” Mr. Wright said as they exited the carriage. “Many of your parents’ friends have already stopped by to pay their last respects. Even Princess Celestia stopped by for a while. Very kind of her, I must say.”
Applejack glared over her shoulder, hot tears brimming around the edge of her eyelids. She stood in the centre of what would have been the large entrance hall, but was now no more than a crumbling heap of smoking soot. Only just the previous morning, if she had been standing in that exact location, she would have had the base of the grand staircase in front of her, with rays of celestial light falling upon the crimson carpet through the glass dome that had served as a roof. Now, however, everything that had once been familiar to her was gone. Overwhelmed by emotions that are completely impossible to describe, Applejack crumbled to the ground, allowing her face to fall into the soot and grime as sobs flowed freely from her. Apple Bloom, sensing her sister’s distress, pressed herself up close to Applejack’s shuddering body in an effort to provide for her some comfort. If you have ever lost somepony close to you, I am sure that you know, at least in part, how Applejack felt. If you haven’t, then you cannot possibly imagine.
Macintosh walked slowly past his sisters toward the smouldering remains of the great orchard. Rows upon rows of blackened stumps riddled the scorched ground, like tombstones marking the passing of everything that the Apple siblings had ever known. As he walked through the charred remains, a solitary tear rolled down his cheek. Step by step he walked, unfaltering, further and further away from the smoking remnants of his old life, until his mind and heart were too overcome with emotion to carry on. A sob escaped from his lungs, unlocking the floodgates to his soul as he gave in. He let the tears flow then, allowing himself this one moment of weakness in front of his siblings, yet crying in silence all the same. I could spend pages and pages― or even entire volumes― attempting to explain to you how miserable these poor ponies were at this time, but I know that I could not, even then, be a satisfactory mediator of such sorrow.
Mr. Wright stood next to the carriage, allowing the siblings to have this time to themselves, empathising with them in this one moment. However, as a banker, the death of the Apples’ and the loss of the orchard was just as much a financial inconvenience as it was an occasion for immense sorrow, resulting in conflicting emotions within his business-oriented mind. This was not to say that Mr. Wright was not sad, nor that he did not sympathise with the Apple youngsters. Rather, Mr. Wright lived in a world governed by facts and figures, where everything had a number and a net value. It was present in every aspect of his life, and he was not entirely capable of completely comprehending the gravity of such matters of emotion (especially when there was paperwork involved).
“Hey, buddy; your kids nearly done? It’s gettin’ dark here!” Complained the muscular grey earth pony pulling the carriage, shielding his eyes from the early afternoon sun. “You all aren’t my only customers, y’know!” Baltimare was not a city known for friendly public service workers.
“Right you are, sir,” Mr. Wright replied submissively. “Um, children! If you are finished, we need to depart now.”
The Apple siblings reluctantly returned to the carriage. As she walked back, Applejack glanced several times over her shoulder at the remains of the home that she was now leaving. Before re-entering the carriage she turned one last time and removed her hat, bowing her head and shedding one last tear for her parents’ memory. Macintosh, however, spared not a single look at the wreckage, but instead walked with stiff determination, eyes glaring straight ahead with brows furrowed, wanting no further reminders of all that they had lost.
* * *
“It has been a difficult few days for us,” Mr. Wright announced at the supper table two days later. The Apple siblings looked up as he said this with undisguised looks of exasperation on their faces, as if to say, Are you only just now noticing this? Mr. Wright either ignored or didn’t notice their faces as he continued, “However, I do believe that those of us in charge of your parents’ affairs have finally determined where you will stay from here on out.” Applejack had to suppress the urge to face-hoof at the realisation that he was speaking about his executive duties at the bank, not about the emotional state of the three Apple youngsters. She knew Mr. Wright well enough to know that he meant well, however she could not help being unappreciative of his objective attitude.
“Good!” said Scrawl, Mr. Wright’s oldest son, who was sitting across the table from Applejack. Glaring at her, Scrawl continued, “So we won’t have to share our rooms any more! I don’t like sharing with Applejack. She’s so primitive!”
“Me neither!” Penn continued from his brother. “And Macintosh is boring and mope-y. Oh, and the filly bites!”
The siblings had been living in Mr. Wright's large penthouse apartment for the last four days, having to share a room with Scrawl and Penn, Mr. Wright’s two sons. The apartment, despite being large and spacious, was incredibly grey and drab, and every room smelled like dried flowers. Missing the comfort of their own home, the youngsters were not at all comfortable here, and Mr. Wright’s children did not help matters. Being the sons of a well-to-do banker, the two Wright colts had been raised never wanting for anything, almost completely left to their own devices by their father. As a result, they were two of the most unpleasant children that the Apple siblings had ever had the misfortune to meet. Rude, disobedient, and inconsiderate, they treated the Apple siblings as if they were members of a social class significantly below theirs, making fun of their accents and belittling their intellect. It completely astounded the Apple youngsters that children of a well-respected member of the banking community could be such disrespectful ponies. So when Mr. Wright announced that they would soon be moving to a more permanent home, they could not help but feel a bit eager.
“Where?” Macintosh asked, his ears perking up at Mr. Wright’s words.
“With who?” Applejack inquired.
“Ooom!” Apple Bloom exclaimed from the end of the table, where she sat upon several stacked boxes to reach the tabletop.
“Are we goin’ to stay with Granny Smith in Ponyville?” Applejack asked just as Mr. Wright was beginning to respond.
Mr. Wright opened his mouth to reply but instead erupted into yet another fit of coughing, groping for his napkin to wipe the saliva from his muzzle. “Excuse me. Now, in answer to your question, Applejack, I’m afraid not.”
“Why not?” Applejack implored, glaring at the banker incredulously.
“Because the will that your parents left clearly states…” Mr. Wright replied, pulling a notebook out of his front pocket, “ hem, hem… ‘If we pass prematurely from this world, we would like our children to be raised by their closest relatives.’” He closed the book between his hooves resolutely, looking back at Applejack with a satisfied smile. “You see? Clear as day.”
“Ah don’t follow,” Macintosh said in his low, quiet voice, “who is closer to us than our Granny Smith?” He had put all of his hopes upon their new guardian being his grandmother, since he felt just as much at home on her apple farm as he ever had at the Apple estate in Baltimare.
“Well, you see, the will clearly states that you are to be given to the charge of your closest relative.” Mr. Wright began to say in a voice immediately attributable to that of a college professor about to deliver a lecture. “And in this case, ‘closest’ clearly is meant to be geographical, as opposed to emotional. We believe that your parents wanted you to be raised in the most convenient way possible, and it turns out that you have a relative right here, in the city. That way you will still live in the environment that you have grown up in.”
“So who is he? Or she?” Applejack asked.
“His name is Rising Star, and he lives just on the other side of town.” Mr. Wright explained. “He is a distant relative of yours, either your third cousin four times removed on your mother’s side, or your fourth cousin three times removed on your father’s. Sorry, can’t quite remember which exactly. Either way, I have already made arrangements to take you to his house tomorrow morning—”
“Ah’m sorry, but Ah don’t follow neither,” Applejack interrupted, “if this relative of ours lives so close by, why didn’t our… uh, why didn’t we ever invite him over?” Of course, Applejack was going to say ‘parents,’ but just as the word was about to pass her lips her stomach wrenched and the familiar emotions threatened to invade. Any thought of her parents in these last few days since their death was unbearable, and she had avoided thinking about them so as not to appear weak to Scrawl and Penn.
“That is very probably because he is a very busy stallion!” Mr. Wright replied with a knowing nod, “much like myself! Although he is an actor, by trade. I hear that he is one of the greatest actors in all of Equestria; isn’t that exciting, children? Oh, I nearly forgot to mention, he also has a daughter, so you will have another filly your age to keep you company! Doesn’t that sound nice?”
Macintosh glanced at Scrawl and Penn, who were making rude faces at Apple Bloom, who was growling back at them like a cornered dog.
“Eeyup,” he muttered apprehensively, “sounds just wonderful.”
“Now, we should all get to bed! It is going to be an early morning for you three!” With a cheerfully hummed tune cut short by another coughing fit, Mr. Wright got onto his hooves and trotted into the kitchen with his plate clasped in his mouth. Once there, he called back, “Scrawl, Penn, be good lads and help clean up!”
The request fell upon deaf ears.
* * *
That night was an uncomfortable and restless one for the Apple youngsters. Nervousness about the following day and lingering sadness from their parents’ death melded to disrupt what would have otherwise been a peaceful and relaxing night. Even young Apple Bloom—who, due to her young age, still could not entirely understand what was happening—had a difficult time sleeping that night. Her sister and brother were troubled, and as a result so was she. So, when Mr. Wright knocked lightly on the bedroom door the siblings were already awake.
“Rise and shine, Apples,” he whispered before succumbing to yet another fit of wheezing. Surprisingly, though, Scrawl and Penn remained asleep through the commotion. “It’s time to go, so be brisk!” Mr. Wright finished after he had recovered. “Brisk,” in this circumstance, meant “quickly, so that the Apple siblings were out of the apartment as soon as possible.”
Barely ten minutes later the siblings were piling into yet another small taxi carriage as Mr. Wright gave directions to the pony pulling it. Then they were on their way, heading at a steady pace toward a new home and a new life. The trip was passed in complete silence, besides Mr. Wright’s regular coughing fits.
After about half an hour of sitting in silent reflection, the carriage came to a halt half-way down a narrow alley lined with small houses made of pale white brick.
“Here we are!” Mr. Wright declared in what was surely meant to be a cheerful and encouraging voice. “Your new home! Isn’t it lovely, children?”
The siblings slowly exited the carriage and found themselves in front of what was undoubtedly the prettiest house on the block. The bricks were white and freshly painted, the flowers around the doorsteps beautiful and in full bloom, and the curtainless windows looked in upon a bright and comfortable interior. The Apple youngsters all gazed at it in astonishment and wonder. For a fleeting moment, the siblings thought that maybe their lives were taking a turn for the better after all.
“It definitely is darn pretty!” Applejack said in awe. “That’s where Rising Star lives?”
“Um... no, wait, this isn’t right…” she heard Mr. Wright mutter. They looked over at him to see that the older pony had his notebook out and open, cradling it between his hooves as he looked back and forth between it and the beautiful house. “Oh, I am frightfully sorry, children, this is the wrong number,” he said finally. He checked the notebook again before putting it away and walking down the sidewalk to the house immediately next door. “Here’s the right one!”
This house could not have been more different than the one next to it. The white bricks were so covered in filth and grime that they were practically grey, sharply contrasting against the whiteness of the houses around it. The two windows in front of the forlorn-looking building were dark, and no living plant life could be seen on the lawn of dead grass in front of it. Another characteristic feature of this house that contrasted against those around it was a large tower, looming ominously above the narrow street. Unlike the rest of the house, this tower appeared to be made out of rough brown plywood, leaving the impression that it was a later addition to the otherwise small structure.
“Well, let’s not dilly-dally! I am sure that you are all anxious to introduce yourselves!” Mr. Wright began to trot up the paved, crumbling walkway to the front door. It was then that the siblings noticed that in the wood of the door was a large and crude carving of a five-pointed star. It appeared to have been roughly etched out with what was probably a dull knife, judging by the imperfect lines. They looked inquisitively at this as Mr. Wright pounded upon the door with his hoof.
From within the depths of the dark and mysterious house the siblings could hear a commotion, then a crash and a loud exclamation. Finally, very audibly, someone shouted, “BELLATRIX! The bucking door!”
Briefly after this the door swung inward, revealing the cowering form of a light blue-coated unicorn—she couldn’t have been that much older than Applejack—who peeked through the crack between door and frame at them apprehensively.
“The Star says that if you are the tax man he has already told you once, and if you come back again so help him he will—” she was interrupted by more shouting from within the house. When the shouting stopped she turned back to the ponies on the doorstep. “Oh! Um, The Star says to please come in. He is in the sitting room; that way.” She said, gesturing down the hall behind her, then quickly backing away from the door, allowing it to swing open entirely. The siblings were met with the unpleasant sight of a very dark and dirty entry way, riddled with discarded pieces of clothing and miscellaneous household items scattered all across the floor.
“Well this is where I will leave you!” Mr. Wright said as the door swung open. “Unfortunately I need to report immediately to the bank. It was very nice to have you staying in my home, my dear ponies, and I hope that you will all be very happy here.” He glanced into the dirty house with some unease. “If you have any questions or concerns, do not be afraid to contact me! Give me a phone call or find me at the bank. And I shall give you a call at the end of the week to check up on you, alright?”
As he turned to return to the carriage, he stopped to look back at the siblings. Upon his face was a confusing expression: something between compassion, concern, and empathy. However, just as he was about to say something he was once again overcome by coughing. When he had recovered, he nodded once with a small, warm smile and said "Goodbye, Apples."
With that, he returned to the carriage and was off down the alley, leaving the sibling alone on the doorstep of a strange house in a strange neighbourhood.
“But we don’t have his phone number,” Macintosh muttered as the carriage drove away.
“Or even know where the bank is, for that matter,” Applejack responded.
“Umo,” Apple Bloom agreed with a nod.
With this realisation that they were, truly, on their own, the siblings turned and, with a deep, nervous breath, entered their new home. There was no sign of the blue unicorn to be had as they crossed the threshold, so the siblings continued to walk nervously down the hallway in front of them. The muffled clopping of their hooves upon the hardwood floor, thick with dust, resounded in the large hallway, doing nothing to help their nerves. As they finally reached the sitting room door Macintosh raised a hoof to knock, but before he could do so a commanding voice from within exclaimed, “You may intrude!”
Taking this as an invitation to enter, the siblings pushed open the door and entered the moderately large room beyond, which was furnished with a couple of old, worn and discoloured couches, some scattered cushions upon the floor, and a bowl of apple cores sitting atop a table that was pushed up against the back wall. Even with the dim light coming from the solitary lightbulb hanging from the grimey ceiling, they could see that this room, too, was absolutely filthy and messy. Amidst the grime in the middle of room stood a tall, scraggly-looking earth pony with a greying mane and dark grey fur, wearing a black frock coat with long coat-tails running down his limber back. Upon his flank was a cutie mark depicting two theatrical masks, one with a smiling face and the other with a frown, ribbon flowing between them. He glared at the siblings as they walked in with a look of amused indifference upon his sharp, narrow muzzle.
“Hello, hello, hello,” he said, his mouth developing into a full smirk as he surveyed the siblings, as if he were an old housemare evaluating fresh produce at the market. His voice was deep and full, however it had a sharp edge to it, as if every word from his mouth had the potential of leaving a papercut. “Hello,” he said one last time, and continued, “dearest ponies, welcome to my humblest of abodes!”
With a glance around the room once more Macintosh concluded that to call this place humble was being generous. A small roach crawled across Apple Bloom's hoof, causing her to begin to cry. Rising Star, however, ignored this and continued:
“Yes, I realise that it is nowhere near comparable to the grandeur of the Apple estate, but I’m sure that you will soon feel right at home! And who knows,” he leaned in close to the siblings, until his rancid breath fell upon their faces in waves of uncomfortable heat, causing the youngsters to back away, “maybe with a little help from your parents’ money, we can fix it up a bit!” Macintosh saw a gleam in the older pony’s eye that made him feel incredibly uncomfortable.
Applejack decided immediately that she did not like this stallion one bit. “Well, that ain’t gonna happen!” She stated, ignoring the looks of warning from Macintosh, “cuz no one can touch our parents’ money until Macintosh grows up! And even then you ain’t gettin’ one bit of it!”
Rising Star’s face contorted into a brief look of undisguised rage, and there was a glint in his eye like an angry dog. For the briefest of moments Macintosh was afraid that he was going to strike, so he forced himself in front of his sister, ready to take the blow for them. But then Rising swallowed, and shrugged his scruffy shoulders.
“Yes, well,” he said. “Apples and oranges, it’s all the same to me!” He then turned away from the Apple youngsters’ shocked faces and shouted in his loud commanding voice, “BELLATRIX! You are summoned!”
Moments later the young blue unicorn from before rushed in, breathing heavily from the exertion of the jog. “Yes, oh great and admirable Rising Star?”
Rising Star nodded at this strange address, and the siblings looked at the unicorn quizzically. If she was Rising’s daughter, why on earth would she refer to him that way? Noticing their glances, Rising Star turned to the youngsters.
“I am what many ponies consider to be a ‘big deal’ in the acting world,” he explained to them with a fiendish grin. “You will soon learn that this household is an extension of that world, and in here, I am to be called by my stage name, ‘The Great and Admirable Rising Star,’ whenever you address me, is that understood?” He fixed upon the siblings such a glare as to fill them with uneasiness.
“Eeyup,” Macintosh replied apprehensively. Applejack said nothing, but instead stared at Rising Star in shocked disbelief.
“Good!” The older pony said, his smile ever widening. “Bellatrix! Show these young ‘uns to their rooms! I have very serious acting business to attend to!” And with a flick of his long, unkempt mane, Rising Star strode out of the room, humming a fast-paced tune as he went. The siblings continued to stare after him, so stunned by this first impression that none of them dared speak. The blue unicorn stood there as well, gazing at the siblings. Eventually Applejack noticed this and turned to her.
"Howdy do!" She inquired, offering her hoof to Bellatrix. "My name is Applejack, and this here is my brother Big Macintosh and my little sister Apple Bloom. Your name is Bellatrix, right?" She gave Bellatrix a friendly smile, which was mirrored by Macintosh and Apple Bloom.
Bellatrix considered Applejack’s hoof for a moment with wide eyes. She gazed at Applejack and Macintosh, with a strange expression, or mix of expressions, playing upon her face. Fear, desire, apprehension, and… was it arrogance? Applejack cocked her head curiously, waiting for a response.
“I… uh…” Bellatrix mumbled, looking back and forth between the two older Apple siblings. Finally she sighed and shook her head. “He… he wouldn’t like… I mean… just follow me, please. I’ll show you your room.”
As the unicorn led the way out of the sitting room, Applejack and Macintosh exchanged a confused look.
“Ah don’t like this,” Applejack whispered to her brother as they exited the sitting room. “Ah don’t like this at all.”
Macintosh merely nodded in agreement. They mutually understood that this was not a good place for them to be, and if they stayed here, things would not be getting better at all.
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I personally love it. Keep writing!
3569559
I am glad! I definitely don't plan to stop any time soon!
There was ages ago, another fic that tried to ponyfy "A series of unfortunate events" lets' see how well this one does!
3569818
Was there really? Interesting! Before I started writing this I did some searching to make sure I wasn't doing something that had already been done. All I found was a pretty direct copy+paste fic that was almost identical to the source material but with everything swapped out with ponies; is that the one you are referring to? I would like to think that I did better than that, haha! But read on and let me know how you like it!
3569909
The one I am talking about involved the CMC, and was discontinued after only four chapters.
3569992
Ah, I see! That is actually a very intriguing concept! Definitely not the one that I read, haha! I may have to give that fiction a read, if I can find it!
3570141
The Catastrophic Case of the Cutie Mark Crusaders by Squeak-anon
Is very sad it was discontinued because it was NOT a direct copy of the novels. At least not of the main series.
3570162
I don't doubt it! I will most definitely give it a look!
Please don't tell me you're doing something after Lemony Snicket's Series of Unfortunate events?
I love that book series, no matter how childish it truly is.
3571739
As do I, which is precisely why I am writing this series! (That, and I am genuinely playing around with the head-canon idea that the Apple siblings did not in fact grow up exclusively in Ponyville...)
I hope that you enjoy it!!!
I'm really enjoying this so far, and it's nice to see something focusing on the Apple siblings. That Trixie is being added to the mix intrigues be even more. I'm actually most curious about her - we're already seeing how being raised by a pony like Rising Star made her the mare she'll eventually become ("the Great and Admirable Rising Star?" Really?), & I really want to see what she's like at this age & how she'll interact with the siblings.
I've got a soft spot for the mare, as you might deduce.
3576094
My many thanks! (yeah, I am still not completely satisfied with that name, but I confess that near the end of the editing process I just gave up trying to find a satisfactory substitute...)
I really wanted to explore Trixie's character and potential backstory, and I can only hope that I don't disappoint! But boy do I have plans for everyone's favourite egotistical show-off ^_^
I was excited to read this (and still am, to a degree), but it feels like a straight rip of the original series. Halfway through the first chapter I could tell exactly how the rest of it would play out, which totally ruined the suspense, big reveal, etc. In addition, copying Lemony Snicket's style (which I love, personally) is both a great homage to the author and another example of ripping from the source.
One of the reasons people love Fallout: Equestria is that it is similar enough to the original while still having its own unique flair, which lends itself to a plot different-yet-familiar. If you could pull something like that with this story, I feel like you'd have a contender for a great story.
Grammar and all that looks great, aside from one error I found in the second chapter:
Should be "your."
3580316
I get what you're saying, and it was a worry of my own in the beginning, that I was copying over too much. However, similar to you example with Fallout: Equestria, after the introduction of the setting, things will become very different. The introduction of that certain blue unicorn was just the beginning.
And of course I do my best to retain Snicket's style; that is, indeed, one of the constants in writing this!
Don't expect much originality from this fiction. As it stands currently, there honestly won't be much. I am essentially using Snicket's work as a foundation to present a perspective on the Apple siblings' early years. Most allusions to the source material will be intentional, I am afraid, although I hardly plan to mimic the Series of Unfortunate Events to the 't'. You will unfortunately not be seeing any ponified Uncle Monty, Aunt Josephine, or Prufrock Preparatory School, etcetera. Well, I hope that you enjoy it all the same!
Oh, and thanks for pointing out that grammar mishap; that line of dialogue was one of the last-minute edits, and I must have overlooked it when proof-reading!
3580876
Alrighty, I'm adding this to my tracking list. Hope to see another chapter soon!
3586041
I can't make any promises for the immediate future, what with finals week and all, but hopefully by January I'll have another chapter up!
3595656
Indeed ^_^
I really love this fic! I've been a huge fan of the Unfortunate Events series for a long time, and I enjoy this crossover thus far! I do hope you'll continue it.
3604250
Why thank you!!! I will do my best to get the next chapter out as soon as possible! (without rushing it, of course
)
Trixie just can't get a break, can she? Follow for second-best p0ne.