Hue And Cry
Most of Ponyville's population had become used to what others would see as -- odd -- behavior from the librarian. Twilight was prone to taking up full-time residency in her own head during those times when she had major problems to solve, which occasionally left her paying very little attention to any sensory input coming in from the outside. A truly issue-distracted Twilight had been known to walk into other ponies. Ditches. Buildings. Wild zones. Those who had been there since the day she arrived in town simply arranged gentle pushes into her flanks which would steer her away from major hazards while simultaneously keeping a close eye on the state of her pupils and checking for any twitches. The more paranoid tended to set up emergency barriers in front of the toy store while slamming an emergency curtain over the doll display.
However, on this particular occasion, the problem was one which stemmed from using a sense. And that meant Twilight was paying attention to everything -- as long as that 'everything' came from feel and the detection of unicorn magic it gave her. She wanted to know about this new spell, and she wanted the instruction from the caster. That was the top priority. The fact that she'd probably been pranked (although the possibility of a spontaneous Surge casting from a youngling or freshly-sparking child had not escaped her) wasn't a factor. Rainbow had taught her about pranks, from the harmless to that which the pegasus still perceived as such while everypony else completely failed to demonstrate the actual location of the border. As pranks went, for orange to become blue was a truly minor thing. The method by which it had been accomplished -- that was top priority.
Visual illusions... for some unicorns, those were easy. Twilight didn't quite have the fine touch herself: a certain amount of art needed to go into anything beyond simply replicating a sight previously experienced, and Twilight's lack of ability in that department meant it was a category of magic where Rarity outshone her (at least for detail work within a confined space, all of which had been planned well in advance). But this was a change to the way the juice processed light. What might appear to others as ridiculously basic was actually more complex than most ponies would ever care to think about. She had to study it.
And so Twilight was navigating through Ponyville on feel, unlit horn testing the air as her head moved from side to side. Looking both for traces of the magic which had touched her breakfast and the signature of the caster who had worked the little miracle.
Sight was a distant second priority, mostly ignored.
"Spike, those are my ribs."
"And that was a giant pothole on your right."
"It was? Why was a pothole there?"
"The fragment of scooter handle might have something to do with it..."
They continued to move through a Sun-lit Ponyville. Well outside her notice, citizens checked her expression and, reassured by the nature of the focus and a quick, sibling-unheard word from Spike, went about their business. They passed Roseluck's house to the sound of rapidly-closing locks.
"Anything yet?"
"No..." Twilight frowned. "You know, Spike, some ponies would see this as being really inconsiderate. Pranking me with a brand-new spell and not even hanging around to be congratulated afterwards? What kind of priorities are those?"
Spike was paying close attention to the exact phrasing of his sister's frustration. "And by priorities, you mean..."
Disgruntled, "We cleaned the basement first. I bet we could have caught that pony if we'd just put things in the proper order of importance and left immediately -- wait..."
Spike's eyes widened. "Are you getting something?"
But not as much as Twilight's. "YES! The caster must have just worked it again! A nice strong burst!" The slow trot was beginning to accelerate. "This direction -- oh, excuse me, didn't see you there! -- hurry up, Spike -- no, just get on my back, that's faster, we have to close in before the caster leaves..."
There was a frightened shout just ahead of her. As there were clearly much more important things happening, she elected to ignore it. Fortunately, the pressing of Spike's feet against her left side made her veer off on pure unnoticed instinct, sparing two colts, one wagon, and a completely incidental butterfly from a trampling.
"Twilight! Slow down! You've got to pay more attention to what's in front of you!"
There were so many times when her brother just didn't seem to have his priorities in order. Twilight tried to spare the breath for a particularly short reinforcing lecture. "Spike, this is important! If I don't gallop, I'm going to lose the caster! And I can't try to teleport when I don't know where we're heading!"
And then there was a scream. But it was a familiar scream, one Twilight could hear seven times during a completely peaceful week or a single especially-frustrating design session. The scream's owner launched the thing for unexpectedly straightened rooms and inadequate bedsheets, undercooked lunches served alongside precisely the wrong beverage, puddles of mud under picnic tables, along with anything else which felt like a proper occasion to a frequently-misplaced sense of drama -- and so Twilight had, for the most part, learned to ignore it.
Admittedly, this particular version seemed to be somewhat more panicked than usual. But Twilight still had to consider the source.
"Twilight, didn't you hear that?" Spike gasped, clutching at her mane as the unicorn's pace accelerated again.
"Oh, it's just --"
"LOOK OUT!"
Twilight didn't.
The good news was that horns were, for all intents and purposes, unbreakable, and so the point-on collision of bodies did absolutely no damage to either projection. They also didn't transmit the force of impact particularly well, which left the skulls behind them free of worries concerning cracks, concussions, and everything else which could have otherwise come from a full-speed ramming mutual reintroduction.
The bad news came when every other part of their bodies followed up.
Twilight was aware of a distant thud as Spike went off her back. It took several seconds before she could orient on anything else, and the total stranger was occupying most of her vision anyway, a unicorn she'd never seen before, one with a familiar shape of face and desperately flapping false eyelashes, but those features were largely masked by a color scheme which surely indicated a new arrival in town, even if that fresh branch had sprouted from a familiar family tree...
The other unicorn screamed a second time. It didn't seem to be from pain, at least not one of the physical variety, and a tiny part of Twilight's mind added a footnote to the blood relation theory while realizing with wonder that despite all prior evidence, it was now possible that the accent actually came from a place other than pure imagination.
The words which followed it ruined everything.
"Celestia's mane, how overdone is this? It would have been one thing if I had been turned into something which was merely last season, Twilight, or even a season before that, I could live with having been thrown back decades if it simply brought me to a place which others might see as vintage, but this... the shame of it! Should I find the pony who has done this to me, there will be a reckoning, this I swear under Sun. Please, Twilight, you must find a way to bring me back to myself, you must. I cannot bear to live this way, not in public, I would not have even left my shop but there were ponies there and I believed that if I simply galloped to you before anypony truly realized what had happened..."
Behind them, confused, startled, and in one case, seriously affronted ponies were departing from the Boutique. Twilight paid them very little attention and the now completely familiar pony on the mutually prone level was simply facing the wrong way.
"...Rarity?"
A sigh. "Yes. Still. Even under this -- thing. Twilight, please... help me..."
Both unicorns staggered to their hooves. Twilight realized she hadn't heard Spike speak since he'd fallen off her plunging form, glanced over to check on him.
The little dragon was staring at Rarity in open shock: eyes wide, jaw dropped, little wisps of flame leaking out. "You're... you're..."
A deeper sigh, one which indicated the designer had reached a place beyond mere screams. "Red. And. Black."
Blood-red for the eyes. The same in the mane and tail, only with thick black stripes running through both. And a coat so dark as to absorb Sun, seemingly dimming the world around her.
The altered eyes closed. "I feel like such a cliche'."
(Off to the right, out of sight and hearing, a very offended summer tourist stomped an angry hoof and trotted off in a huff, never to be seen again.)
"Rarity, listen to me," Twilight quickly insisted. "There's something I have to know right now."
"Oh, this was a fad for a time, Twilight. Ponies all over the western coast were dyeing themselves into nearly these exact shades, only not so intense, with some earth ponies and unicorns even trying to create the color-based illusion of wings along their sides while others added hollowed paper-mache horns, it lasted for three foolish moons and it was all I could do not to laugh as I read through trade magazines with near-identical covers, but now the joke is on me and none of my wardrobe may ever coordinate again..."
"Rarity, this is crucial! I need you to focus, right now. Look at me -- please?"
The red eyes blinked. "I -- of course, Twilight." Focused.
"Good," Twilight exhaled. "Now -- how do I look?"
Back to blinking -- then an abrupt widening. "Oh! You are checking to ascertain the change has not affected my eyesight! You are as clear as ever, dear, and I will not do you the disfavor of inquiring about what has happened to your stripe --"
"No," Twilight quickly clarified. "Are my colors normal? Other than my mane, does anything look different about me to any degree? Because different eye hues receive light in different ways! Blue eyes like yours are among the best at determining exact color shades, which is part of why you're so good at what you do, but red eyes... can you pick up on any changes in how you're seeing the world?"
"Twilight."
"Because I've never heard of anypony going through this before, and you might be the first ever who could provide a personal comparison between vision states! If we can find the pony who did this, and you're willing to run through a series of tests, we could put together the first-ever comprehensive chart! I've still never gotten to co-sign a paper with you, and you know I don't mind sharing the credit --"
"-- Twilight."
"...what?"
"My. Coat. My. Mane."
"...I could go through some of the changes myself...?"
"Please?"
Twilight took a slow breath, closed her own eyes and took a long look inside herself, consulting a personal checklist to make sure the items within were in the precise order they should have occupied all along.
The shame immediately shifted to the first entry and refused to take the check mark which would make it go away.
"...I'm sorry. I was just -- excited, Rarity. I've never seen this spell before and the caster pranked me with it. I was trying to track it down so I could learn how it was done. I wasn't thinking about -- the important things. I'm sorry, Rarity..."
The smile was gentle. "And I accept your apology, Twilight -- especially since on this occasion, you reached the realization on your own. But... if you have been pranked, I see no sign of it." Hopefully, "You have already worked out the counter?"
"The caster just got my orange juice -- and I'm sorry, but no." Before the designer could begin to drop into distress, "But there was only a little trace on my glass, because it didn't take very much to change it. To alter a pony... hold still, Rarity: let me see what I can get..."
The designer nodded, then held her breath. Twilight closed her eyes again, reached even deeper into herself, past normal magic and field workings, below every personal trick she'd ever copied, delving to the heart. To the power represented by talent and mark, the enhanced understanding of magic which allowed her to sometimes duplicate spells while getting a sense of how others truly worked or means by which the new could potentially be brought into existence at all...
She let the core of herself envelop her senses in a wave of love, and listened to the murmurs of adoration which echoed back.
"It's... not permanent." She opened her eyes to gain the final confirmation for something she already soul-deep knew. "Your mark didn't change. Not even by the thinnest shade. I can feel where the caster tried to make that alteration, but your mark resisted -- and that resistance is radiating out to the rest of your body. The thaums are draining anyway... but now your natural magic is dispelling them even faster. Even if I don't find a specific counter, you'll be back to your own colors in a few hours, all by yourself. If the caster hadn't tried for your mark... maybe two days. I don't think it can be permanent on a pony. Something without magic, something which isn't alive... then it might not wear off at all. But not on you, Rarity. You'll be okay."
Rarity's posture partially collapsed under the welcome arrival of relief. The ground near her dipped knees became that much more shadowed.
"Thank you, Twilight. Given that, I suppose I will simply bear it for that duration."
"I could experiment --"
Hastily, "-- no, that is quite all right. Allow nature to take its course. Very well... as a prank, I certainly suppose it could have been worse."
Spike's lower jaw finally went back up again. He worked it from side to side a few times before attempting normal operations. "Rarity... do you know who pranked you?"
She shook her head: the red-and-black mane did its best to cliche' the entire environment. "I'm afraid not, Spike. I was actually having a busy morning, at least for browsers. It is the start of summer tourist traffic, and so many of those choose to seek my shop and spend a few hours while not spending a single bit to go with them. There were many within my shop... so many that I had not spoken with all of them. I can tell you that they were all mares, but every age and color and mark... no. And when I have unicorn customers, there are always fields being exerted as items are gathered, tried on, and discarded without being rehung in their proper place. I certainly felt the magic hit me, but I initially thought some rather rude customer had chosen a decidedly impolite way of getting my attention. And when I turned -- I saw myself in the mirror."
Twilight nodded. "I have a better sense of the caster's signature now. If I'm close when they do it again, I might know it."
"Then I leave it to you, Twilight," Rarity smiled, and began trotting back towards the Boutique.
Twilight and Spike glanced at each other, scrambled to follow. The brother found his voice first. "Rarity -- you don't want to help?"
The dignified laugh. "Oh, I am certain I can explain myself to any who venture inside before the duration expires, Spike. It is a lovely summer day yet, and I have some faint hopes that browsing may yet turn to spending for one or more. It is simply a prank, dears... an effective sort when it came to jolting me, but ultimately harmless. As such, I will allow the time for it to leave, plus the two or three moons before I might start to regard it as humorous, and let it go. Simply tell me who the unicorn was after you discover the caster. Oh, and if it somehow turned out to be Rainbow? Inform me immediately."
Twilight frowned. "Rarity, I know magic isn't exactly your big interest, but something which changed colors... it would save you so much time and money on dyes..."
Rarity nodded as she approached the doors. "Rather true. However, I am also aware of my ability when it come to learning new workings, along with what tends to happen when I freely experiment -- something I generally seem to lose track of when it is actually happening. It would be useful for me, yes, perhaps exceedingly so. But for a unicorn like me to master a new spell simply because it would be in my general --"
The sentence died.
Rarity was standing in the Boutique's doorway. Staring at the interior.
The voice was not oddly calm. It was hauntingly calm. It was fully content with itself, locked in the sort of near-permanent peace which was found in better graveyards everywhere. "Twilight?"
"...Rarity?"
And this sentence gently suggested that many other things were potentially about to die. "I seem to recall your recently saying that such a casting on something inanimate would likely be permanent?"
Slowly, the siblings forced themselves to get closer, peered past black flanks to regard the shop beyond.
Rarity's wares had been...
...well, the accurate-if-for-once-unfair way to say it was that they looked as if the Crusaders had been attempting to gain a group mark in fashion design. While blindfolded. And dizzy. 'Concussed' might have been part of it somewhere.
The realistic way to describe things was to consider the possibility that a sufficiently-offended prism was capable of throwing up. Also that anypony who had to look at the revised designs just might do the same, and both wondered how Rarity was managing to keep staring forward, especially since she seemed to have lost the capacity for blinks.
The designer's voice seemed to be coming from a very great distance. Somewhere around Mazein, placing itself in the center of the minotaur Senate in order to turn words into some form of law. "Spike, did I ever tell you that I once briefly considered a career in politics?"
The little dragon wrung his claws. "Rarity, it's okay... Twilight will work on it..." The librarian frantically nodded.
Rarity ignored all of it. Dreamily, "Yes, politics. I realize that may seem unusual for one such as myself, but I am afraid my motives were misguided at the time. I saw it as a staircase by which I might climb to a higher social rank, not a means of helping others. Of course, I had just lost the Preschool Princess election and a certain amount of reasonable vendetta might have been present, but..."
Twilight now, with increased urgency. "Rarity, I'm going to find the caster: if anypony can dispel this without experimenting, it'll be the pony who worked it. Just give me a few hours --"
"-- still, my priorities thankfully shifted as I matured. And now... I can truly see myself turning to the political arena once again. Applying myself to a campaign and gaining the votes of our fellow Ponyville residents -- I can count on your ballots, I trust? The Night Court, I think: I would enjoy working with Luna. There would be so many opportunities to aid others there. In time, with seniority, I might even reach the point where I could compose my own legislation."
Spike again. "Rarity, we're going to fix this --"
"-- and then, after a simple vote carried by all the contacts I had created over the course of several terms, certain acts would be recognized as crimes. And they would be punished. Appropriately. As the creator of the law, I would of course carry out the first sentence myself, especially since, as an intelligent mare, I would have excluded any idiotic concept for statute of limitations. Personally performing the duty of punishment... a simple honor to reward a long life of service."
A long pause.
"Or, to save on campaign funds, I could simply track this unicorn down right now and kill her. Shall we?"
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This. This so much. Years of red/black alicorn OCs, all explained at last.
Pft. Red and Black Rarity.
Perfect.
~Skeeter The Lurker
Oh dear.
I would not want to be that caster right now.
Remind me, if you would: why is Twilight missing the pink stripe in her mane? And will it be coming back?
Nice chapter. I'm loving this fic so far.
4209588
I'd pay to see that.
4212367
If I'm not mistaken, she burned part of her mane when her experiment blew up in her face last night, taking the pink stripe out of her bangs.
You are extremely smexy.
Terry Pratchett's school of magical theory seems to be in vogue as of late.
Which makes me think of; "Or, to save on postage..."
I think I love you.
Also, what happened to Twilight's stripe? Was it, as 4212734 suggested, burned off during the experiment (oddly selective fire, unless different mane colors have different properties [which is in and of itself a rather interesting bit of headcanon]), or was it something else? Or will we find out later? Enquiring minds want to know!
We never did understand the fascination with red and black..,,
oh, NOW i understand why Spike and the other ponies wanted to keep Twilight away from dolls...it's a reference to that episode "lesson zero".
Huh....
[A Mark Of Appeal chapter 7]
Rarity probably would enjoy working with Luna.
The way she is on the very edge of exploding... it is palatable.
Tell that to Tempest Shadow. But then again, unbreakable by a pony and unbreakable by a giant star bear are two very different stories.
... You frighten me.
8643204
Estee's alt-universe existed long before the movie ever happened.
"Don't leave in a huff. You can take a minute and a huff. Better yet, take a taxi."
Julius Henry "Groucho" Marx