Rivers of Babylon

by A Hoof-ful of Dust

And there we wept when we remembered Zion

"What were you thinking?"

Applejack tried to ignore her aunt. Unfortunately, there was this particular pitch she was able to hit that made her impossible to tune out.

"It ain't such a big deal," she said.

"Isn't," her aunt corrected, "isn't, and it is a big deal! Trespassing, destruction of property, drinking underage... do you have any idea what it feels like to get a call from the police in the middle of the night?"

"No," Applejack said, rolling her eyes, "but I'm sure you're going to tell me."

"And that's another thing, young lady," her aunt snapped. "I have had it with your attitude! I have tried reasoning with you, punishing you, I've tried to be your friend, I've even tried bargaining with you, and you won't let me in! What do I have to do?"

"Maybe you could get off my back once in a while!" Applejack shouted. "I'm gonna move out in a few months, and then you don't have to tell me how I'm disappointin' you ever again!"

"As long as you live under my roof," her aunt said evenly, "you're going to abide by my rules."

"I ain't. You're not my mother, Valencia."

"And thank goodness for that."

Applejack stopped and stared at her aunt, genuine hurt in her eyes. Her aunt stared back, looking a little stunned at what she had just said.

The cab ride back to the apartment was silent between then.

-/-

Fluttershy looked at her reflection in the mirror, seeing herself properly for the first time since leaving the infirmary. What she saw was strange, but the experience of being a patient rather than a surgeon had been stranger. She had kept suppressing the urge to correct her doctor, finish his sentences, prescribe her own medication. The green kids they sent out here these days.

She had been out here long enough, and out here was far enough, that the higher links in the chain of command didn't enforce the rules about mane protocol too strictly, and her mane had almost grown back to its former civilian length before the accident. Now she was close to completely shaved again, under the guidelines of an equally-rigid doctrine of medicine, that said a pony's mane must be cut away before any surgery involving the face. The risk of infection was enormous otherwise, and with a mane as long as Fluttershy's had been, it would simply be in the way during the operation.

Tilting her head to better examine the scars, she found they weren't as bad as she imagined. The right side of her face was covered in scar tissue, with one long and jagged gash still stitched together seeming the worst of them. The wound was clean, though, and would heal in time. Her eye had been less fortunate; you could see the socket was stuffed with gauze, and it would have to be changed soon. The flesh visible around the edges was inflamed and angry. If she didn't get enough antibiotics to stave off an infection, she'd kill that green doc with her own hooves.

She replaced the eyepatch over her dead eye, thinking back to the attack. The hollow cough of an explosion that seemed insignificant compared to the ringing that had filled her ears. The splintering pain through her head. The filly that waved her transport down. The grenade concealed in her saddlebag.

They employ their civilians, their children... they attack medical units... this is why we can't beat them. Because there's no depth they can't sink to. They have no sense of morality. No honor. No souls.

"They're beasts," Fluttershy said to her reflection. "Beasts, every one, and nothing more."

-/-

The roar of the crowd was getting closer. Twilight glanced out the window, seeing the mob had already passed through the castle's outer walls. It wouldn't be too long before they were in the keep, which meant it wouldn't be too long before they set the whole place on fire. She scooped up another stack of tomes and zapped them with a spell to compress them down to one-twenty-eighth their regular size, and stuffed them inside her already-bulging saddlebag.

She hadn't meant for any of it to come to this. She had vowed she could turn Equestria around, make her glorious once again, that like a phoenix from the ashes the nation would rise greater and brighter in the face of defeat against the griffons, but her people had been too tired and too hungry to listen. Reason had given way to mob rule, and the loudest voice among that mob had called for her head, and now they were outside her sanctum howling for blood. Her guards couldn't hold them at bay for long, and Twilight could easily imagine that most of them might just lay down their arms and let the rabble pass.

That was the last of the books and scrolls and irreplaceable trinkets she could salvage, even though there was so much still left. One last spell, but it was not focused on any treasure: this she turned on herself. Her wings faded from view, her form diminished, her cutie mark shifted, her coat changed. Standing in the main library was no longer Twilight Sparkle, Princess of Equestria, but Starshine, humble unicorn whose special talent was astronomy. Starshine prayed that Twilight hadn't used this disguise too many times, and that nopony would recognize her like this.

She teleported out to the rear gardens, and managed to loop around the castle grounds and join up at the back of the mob without running afoul of any guards (even though she knew she had passed at least two guard posts). Starshine joined in with the chants of the crowd, and as the first fireball lit up the main spire of Princess Twilight's castle, a single tear rolled down her cheek.

-/-

"So--" Bounce, bounce. "--In school today--" Bounce, bounce.

Rarity was only halfway paying attention to Garnet's story as she hopped up and down on her bed. It was hard enough to power her sewing machine and actually sew at the same time, let alone with a hyperactive filly in the same room jabbering in one ear.

"And then the teacher said--" Bounce, bounce.

She had counted on having a half-hour to herself, to sew, to drink a cup of tea in peace, to buy a magazine and leaf through it, something. But somehow that time had vanished, eaten up and gone wherever vanished time goes.

"Then when we all went outside--" Bounce, bounce.

She didn't even know what she was going to sew. Maybe she had just wanted to hear her machine running. It felt like it had been quiet forever.

"So--" Bounce, bounce. "--What do you think?"

Sewing without a pattern, that was the mark of a rank amateur. Which she supposed she had become, since she couldn't even remember the last time she had made a dress.

"What do you think?" Bounce, bounce. "Mom? What do you--"

"Could you please do that somewhere else?" Rarity snapped. "I'm trying to concentrate!"

The bouncing halted. Garnet hopped off the bed, a morose look on her face. "Sorry, Mommy," she murmured, and left the room.

Rarity looked down at her sewing machine and completely improvised garment. A strand of mane fell out of her bun, and that was all it took to start her sobbing. She bent over the table and cried into her hooves. A momentary thought crossed her mind that she would ruin her makeup, and then she remembered she wasn't wearing any, and for some reason that made her wail even harder.

-/-

"Okay, Stingy," Pinkie said as she gathered herself in a position to sit on her rump and stare at the scorpion, "you are going to be my new best friend. And we're going to have tons of adventures, and laughs, and play games, and--"

"It can't understand you," Pinkamina interrupted. "It's just a dumb animal."

"Shut up!" Pinkie hissed. "Shut. Up. I'm not listening to you. You're not real."

"You're not real!" Pinkamina flared. "I'm the real you! You're the fake one! You're the disguise to show the rest of the world, because you can't stand to be me."

"No I'm not!" Tears were forming in Pinkie's eyes. "You don't know, you don't--"

And then both ponies flinched, as Stingy had pinched Pinkie and scurried under a rock.

"...I hate you," Pinkie whispered.

Pinkamina laid a hoof on Pinkie's shoulder and leaned down close to her ear. Her voice had no trace of comfort in it when she spoke.

"I know you do."

-/-

Mixture portioned out into the trays, the muffins were ready to be baked. Pinkie Pie hummed a little ditty to the empty kitchen as she slid them into the warm oven. After she closed the oven door, her ears perked up. She froze. A strange glazed look took over her eyes.

Then she sneezed.

"Huh," she said to herself. "Must have been nothing."

"No!" Rainbow Dash screamed, inches from Pinkie's face. "No! No, no, no, no!" Each word was punctuated by a swinging hoof that passed effortlessly through Pinkie's smiling face. "I was so close that time! You know I'm here, Pinkie! You know I'm here! You know-oh-oh..." She hung her head, her voice failing her.

And then the most amazing thing happened. Pinkie's eyes grew a little wider, and for a second it seemed like she was looking right at Dash. Like she could see her. That all her efforts had finally paid off.

And then the moment was broken, as Pinkie exclaimed, "Hi, Pumpkin!"

Pumpkin Cake walked through where Rainbow was standing. "Morning, Pinkie," she said, and headed for the door.

"Hey, hey, wait a minute! Where do you think you're going without a morning hug?"

Pumpkin rolled her eyes, them smiled and relented. Pinkie bounded over the counter and threw her arms around the unicorn. Pumpkin was so tall now that Pinkie needed to make a little effort to reach.

It's okay, Rainbow thought as she rocked back and forth on the bakery floor. They have to notice me soon. Very soon. Maybe next year. Maybe that will be the year.

-/-

In darkness six ponies wandered, lost.

Comments

[devas]

Again, how the fuck doesn't this have more recognition?

...I'm starting to get convinced of my sneaky, horrible belief that effort doesn't matter.