ChromaTricks
There were some mysteries of Ponyville which Twilight had yet to solve or even truly investigate, and more than a few of them involved the thought processes of others, especially as they related to events which she hadn't been present to experience. For example, somepony had decided that hiring a pegasus, one whose arguable secondary talent was sleeping in, to make sure the scheduled weather happened exactly on time -- had been a good idea. Something had inspired the town's previous librarian to come up with the tree's original shelving system, and Twilight was fairly certain it had been a concussion. And then there was the store they were about to trot past, a business she'd never been able to reconcile no matter how many orders she was essentially forced to place from it just to save on shipping time. It was unexpected, unreasonable, unbalanced, and irrational (the loss of the 'un' streak momentarily irritated her, although nowhere near as much as the shop), at least on those days when it wasn't just plain stupid. If Twilight was forced to think about it at all beyond the time required to reluctantly fill out the next order form, she generally thought of it as The Retail Which Should Not Be, and tried not to go beyond that: the headache seldom needed more than a few seconds to set in. If she wasn't making a purchase there (generally from a reasonable, sanity-maintaining distance via claw-remove), she did her best to ignore the thing. It was just easier that way.
Which was why her first reaction upon feeling the burst of magic from that direction was to decide the entire day had just gotten that much worse.
"Did you --?" Rarity immediately inquired.
Twilight sighed. "Yes..."
"That was fresh! She may still be inside! Hurry, Twilight, this could be our chance to catch her! Oh, there will be vengeance!"
"But... but that means she's in -- there."
"Twilight, I understand your issues, truly I do, but we do not have time. If you can marshal yourself enough to withstand things for a short duration...?"
Spike, who knew what was wrong, gently rubbed Twilight's flank. "It's just for a few minutes."
"Maybe... if I just stayed outside and waited to intercept her?" Twilight hopefully offered. "In case she runs?"
Zecora, who lacked their feel, frowned. "Twilight, as best that I can tell, the two of you have sensed a spell?" The librarian nodded. "Not the reaction I expected: not thrilled or angry, but dejected..."
Another sigh -- but she was beginning to trot faster, steadily accelerating into a gallop, in no small part because the best way to get into the place was to speed through the door before her mind could stop her. "It's just -- that place, Zecora. Of all the stores she could have gone to -- well, at least she finally found something which was actually irritating..."
"But you shop there: I know you do," the confused zebra noted as she increased her own pace to match. "Their scattered boxes provide the clue. Bits you simply continue to spend, for a store which does -- offend?"
Faster now, speech and speed, every aspect of her being trying to get it over with. "It doesn't make any sense. And I've asked him about it, and all he does is ignore me and then try to raise the prices when he thinks I'm not looking. And he doesn't ever understand when I don't want to order the other -- things... I mean, honestly, how many does he think any one pony needs? How quickly are they supposed to wear out, every two moons? Every single time I send him an order, he puts a note in my box telling me how much I didn't save by ordering together, and it's like I keep doing everything wrong when he's the one who doesn't make any sense -- !"
Rarity went through the doorway first, and the unwillingness to leave her friend facing unknown magic alone gave Twilight the final tenth-bit of strength she needed to go under the sign, the idiotic sign, through the still-open door and --
-- she normally tried not to look around too much on the rare occasions when she was forced to visit the place, generally because the proprietor had messed up her order and Spike was on one of his You Have To Confront Your Own Issues gallops again. Looking around too much hurt her brain. But now she had to, and her gaze quickly moved over that which she personally used and all the pieces which made no sense until she located --
-- there. One unicorn mare, the only mare in the shop, with coat the color of curdled cream and a light grey mane styled into elaborate ringlets which fell to the left side of her neck. Trotting towards them, snout raised as her nostrils expelled a disdainful sniff, almost completely ignoring the store's owner.
"Are you sure there isn't anything I can help you with today?" the light brown earth pony stallion inquired. "Because I think that if you just checked out that display on your right, immediately under the Sale sign, you'll spot something nopony should ever be without!"
"Your so-called stock is inadequate," the mare sniffed. "I made the trip to this -- I suppose 'settled zone' will have to suffice for a term, simply from lack of anything lesser -- in search of antiques to resell, because a 'town' like this would never be able to afford to kick anything away. Your furniture is modern. I inspected every piece. I even went through the most dust-covered ones at the back in the hopes that their time of not selling might have been measured in centuries, and came up with a mere ten years, at least after rounding up. And as for the rest of your wares..."
All of them should have been charging forward. But instead, the four automatically, instinctively waited through the brief near-silence: there was a faint squeaking sound in the distance which wasn't respecting the near-mandatory pause.
"...quills? You think you can sell quills in the same shop with -- with..."
"You saw the sign!" Davenport instinctively beamed. "Everypony comes in when they see the sign!"
"I thought it was a joke!"
"I know! That's why they come in!"
Which was when Rarity took that last crucial step forward. "Pardon," the designer interrupted with the most open, venomous false apologies any of them had ever heard.
The mare, who had ignored their entrance as a natural part of ignoring everything else, stared.
"And you are?" she sniffed.
Rarity's left forehoof scraped at the carpeted floor. "We have met, actually. Rather recently. Perhaps if you made an effort to look past my current hues...?"
Twilight and Zecora remained silent as the mare squinted, which let the squeaking try to intrude again. "Oh," she sniffed. "The owner of the remaindered dress shop."
This time, the hoof stomped, and Rarity's voice dropped into a place which shadowed the store more than her altered coat ever could. "Remaindered."
"And currently experimenting with fur and mane dye in the same stupid fashion in which you previously experimented with fabrics," she continued, completely ignoring all contradiction with her own previous sentence. "In both cases, obviously and totally unaware of when a fad has completed its lifespan. I still have no interest in your wares, especially from a mare who cannot be bothered to sell me anything and simply flees from her own establishment for no apparent reason. Fortunately -- or non -- there seems to be nothing in this 'town' worthy of my bits anyway. Now, if you will step aside..."
"Remaindered?" (Spike's left claw instinctively grabbed for Rarity's tail, intertwined digits through red and black stripes.) "Remaindered? If it is remains you wish to discuss, then we are about to enter a rather brief argument, and if you do not undo your working immediately, you will have the opportunity to regard your own remains as much as you like --!" She began to advance, horn lowering, nostrils flaring --
"Rarity!"
Who glanced back at the little dragon and found his walking claws desperately trying to find a helpful carpet tangle to hook into. "This will only take a moment, Spike. Davenport, I will be purchasing several of your quills. After the fact. Simply count how many are protruding from her body and then charge me accordingly."
"Are you threatening me?" the astounded mare exclaimed. "Is this some kind of threat?"
"I?" Rarity falsely laughed. "Why, of course not! I have never leveled a threat against anypony."
Which produced a slightly disbelieving variety of sniff. "Really."
"Yes," Rarity told her with that same false politeness. "Threats only occur when one potentially does not intend to follow through." And her horn ignited, soft blue dipped into the open boxes of sample quills, a hundred miniature glowing feathered spears began to rise into an attack position --
-- Spike's left claw rapped against her horn. Hard.
The partial corona winked out, and one hundred quills fell to the floor.
Angry red eyes immediately sought out the next target. "Really! Purposeful backlash when I am merely trying to complete our mission? Very well: I believe I am still capable of a charge!"
"Rarity, we don't even know if it's her!"
"She called my creations 'remaindered'! I no longer care!"
The mare was staring at her.
"Well!" she sniffed. "I think we've seen more than enough of the ponies in this 'town'! Threats of violence simply because somepony has too much taste to purchase inferior goods? I would go to the police, if they weren't assuredly as stupid and corrupt as everypony else here. Instead, I believe we'll just head for the train!"
She began to trot forward, as Spike desperately tried to find a new grip, while Twilight wondered if she had to seize Rarity within her own field, Zecora visibly searched for something she could do, and Davenport...
...well, Davenport had something of a one-track mind. Or rather, two, running in rather close and completely illogical parallel.
"Rarity," the stallion irritably interjected, "this is my customer. From the sound of things, she was already in your shop. I'm sorry she didn't buy anything from you, but she's in my store now, and to me, she still looks like the kind of mare who has the taste to purchase a sofa. Along with a few quills, especially since I'm sure she's seen my sign concerning the savings she'll get when she bundles, along with the additional discount for subscribing to my new club!"
Which momentarily froze everypony.
"Club," Twilight said, and immediately wished she hadn't.
"Club," Davenport proudly chorused. "Once a moon, every moon for a year, you receive a shipment containing my personal selection of the ideal pieces to suit that moon's styles! For just a small subscription fee, to cover the cost of my picking something out for you! Plus shipping. And the cost of all the quills, of course. And all the sofas."
"All the sofas," Twilight repeated, and wondered why she'd ever learned to talk in the first place.
"Of course," a confused Davenport eventually responded after an appropriate number of background squeaks. "Why would anypony start a mere Quill Of The Moon club? Now, of course, you'll have to cover shipping costs for sending each previous sofa back. Unless you want to keep them. Because I've seen the tree, Ms. Sparkle, and it's not as if you couldn't use at least six more sofas. Would you like to look at my signup brochure?"
The mare looked at Davenport. Fully noticed Twilight for the first time, then visibly dismissed her. Ignored a near-steaming Rarity, who was desperately trying to free herself from Spike's grip in a way which didn't involve kicks.
"You're all insane," she concluded. "Now, where did the latest idiot proprietor put...?"
Her horn ignited. The glow dipped down behind Davenport's main (and slightly dusty) sales counter, recovered a pair of moderately hideous saddlebags.
"Because as if being treated as a potential shoplifter wasn't bad enough," she sniffed. "What did you expect me to do, hide a sofa inside them?"
And they stared as the navy blue glow descended towards her back.
"Her field," Rarity whispered towards Twilight. "Would that magic operate on her own --"
No. Twilight knew that instinctively, on the level of her mark. Solids and liquids, possibly some of the denser gases -- but not energy. That was another effort entirely, the one required to change a signature, and Twilight knew exactly how hard that was. And besides... "It's the wrong feel, Rarity," Twilight miserably whispered back. "It's not her."
Dejected and rapidly dropping towards despondent. "But there's nopony else it could --"
"-- oh, I see." And Zecora smiled.
It got the mare's attention. And then kept it. "What are you supposed to be? Did a dye wagon explode? Oh -- I see now! Well, in your case, it may actually represent an improvement..."
Zecora ignored it. Calmly, "You said 'we'."
The rest of the group blinked. Davenport simply said "Ten percent off your first shipment when you subscribe for three years or more!"
"Is that supposed to be speech?" the mare sniffed. "Something to impress the ignorant, with your so-called exotic accent?"
Rarity's hooves paused in their carpet trench creation. "She did. She said 'we'll just head for the train'..."
Zecora nodded. "Her words may be those of a phony: her plural shows another pony. Attitude she has aplenty, airs of a false cognoscenti..."
"And rhyming," the mare hurried on, starting to move forward again. "What disease is that a symptom of? Thankfully, there probably isn't any chance it could spread --"
"-- your desperation, it is peeking," Zecora smiled. "And those couch springs -- they are squeaking..."
Which finally got Davenport to focus on something else.
"Oh, no..." he groaned. "I already asked you not to do that!" And he spun, began trotting towards the back of the store.
The mare, who had been on the verge of her exit, automatically oriented on the next offense, instinctively following. "How dare you! One false accusation was enough to convince me not to buy here, just like all the others in this 'town', but now you're accusing twice!"
Which got him to turn. "I saw her doing it!"
"So you say. I didn't see a thing."
"You were right there! Poking the cushions with your hooves!"
Naturally, that triggered a sniff. "If that's what you're going to claim happened..."
Davenport briefly stared at her, then went back to both looking and moving forward. The group hurried to follow, Zecora dropping back somewhat. And when they reached the back of the store...
"Is it over?" a high-pitched pipping voice demanded. "I'm bored!"
There was a unicorn filly bouncing on one of the couches. A very small filly, one who could have easily been mistaken for a kindergartener in both size and vocal pitch: at best, she was two-thirds of Apple Bloom's height, easy to lose in a crowd -- or crush of bakery customers. But there was a single aspect of false maturity visible on iridescent pearl flanks: a manifested mark, which was only intermittently hidden by bouncing black tail hairs. One which showed a palette, pools of color frozen in slow spread across the wood...
The group saw her. And then they saw the couch on her immediate right.
Davenport, through the coincidence which temporarily saved his sanity, hadn't yet. "I asked you not to do that!" he told the filly. "Yes, they're ideal for bouncing, in fact I have some models which are perfect for nothing but if you don't intend to ever truly rest on them and just want a toy -- they make excellent toys, although they work best when matched with the appropriate quill -- but I want to ship my goods new and so I do have to ask that you hop down, you can give those cushions the real workout after your mother signs for the shipment --"
"-- I'm not doing anything," the filly said.
And right on the hoof-heels of that, "How dare you berate my daughter! She's not harming your so-called goods in any way! She's simply -- resting!"
"She's bouncing!"
"No, she isn't," the mother said as her filly bounced.
"Yes, she is!" declared an increasingly frazzled Davenport. "Just like she was bouncing on that one before!"
He looked to the right.
His back legs gave out, and his tail slammed into the carpet.
"My... my couch," he whispered. "What have you done to my couch...?"
"I have not done anything to your supposed couch," the mare sniffed. "Come, Spectra. We are leaving."
"About time!" the filly sniffed, and bounced down. "This place is boring -- who are you?"
She looked the rest of the way up, and her eyes dismissed Twilight as thoroughly as her voice had.
Twilight took a slow breath, wondered just how long Spike could truly hold Rarity back, or if he would simply decide an "accidental" slip was worth the private thanks he would undoubtedly receive later... "Undo it."
"You're stupid," the filly told her. "You look stupid. And part of your mane is gone. That's stupid too. Just like you."
"Are you insulting my daughter?" the mare demanded, completely ignoring everything which had actually been said. "What kind of mare has the nerve to confront an innocent filly..."
Another breath. It didn't seem to be doing much. "Your working," Twilight slowly said. "Undo it. On the couch. On my friends. On the Boutique. Or you're not going anywhere, you or your mother."
"Are you a cop?" the filly quickly said.
"No."
"Then you can't stop me. Because I didn't do anything."
"That's right!" the mare insisted. "She's innocent! She's always innocent, and I don't care what you might say! It's hearsay! At best!"
"And I'm a filly," the very obvious filly arrogantly smiled. "So you can't touch me, or yell at me, or... anything! Because I'm a filly. And my mom wants to leave this boring place already, in this stupid town..." She began to move past Twilight -- and halfway through, turned just enough to let the smirk show.
"You've been using your magic all over town!" Twilight protested. "You changed the colors of my friends, of their goods, of who knows how many things!"
"I don't have any magic," the child said. "I'm just a filly."
"That's right!" the mare immediately added. "She's too young! You're accusing my baby of -- I don't even know what you're accusing her of!"
"It's you," Twilight helplessly insisted. "It -- it has to be you! Everything fits! There's nopony else it could be!"
"You can't prove --" the filly began -- and was cut off.
"Catch," Zecora said, and kicked the freshly-gathered box of quills.
It wasn't aimed at the filly's head -- something which only became visible on second glance, after everypony had a split-second to do more than react. Anypony truly looking at the angle would see it was rapidly heading up, and would have gone well over the little horn. But in that moment where there was no time to think, all the filly saw was something coming at her, and --
-- the box had been stopped. Held motionless within a shimmer-white field.
Zecora smiled. "'natch."
The mare stared. Galloped two steps forward, got the nape of the filly's neck between her teeth, scooped her daughter up and began to gallop for the door --
-- Twilight's field lanced forward, slammed and locked the only exit.
The mare froze, almost in mid-step, and put her daughter down again before turning to face them.
"You're holding us against our will," she said. "I will go to the police. I'm going to press charges."
"She's quite the prodigy, isn't she?" Twilight calmly said, trotting forward a little. "An early mark, early workings, and a new spell. I'd be proud if she was my daughter, at least when it came to her magic. Very few unicorns find themselves that young. But she's still a unicorn. She still has a signature, and now I've felt it. I can match it to every working she's done around town. I have something I can go to the police with, and press vandalism charges. Multiple ones."
And the mare said "So?"
Twilight blinked.
"...so?"
"She's a juvenile. All I have to do is contact my lawyer in Canterlot and let him know my daughter's being held on false charges. Have him stall proceedings for a while, until any signature would fade..." And the smirk was exactly the same on mother as daughter.
Which was when Rarity stepped forward.
"Antiques, you said?" the designer inquired.
"Not that it's any of your business, and certainly not what you were selling, although I suppose that with the lack of quality on your goods, they'll be in your supposed shop long enough to qualify --"
"-- you know," Rarity interrupted, "there are certain pieces where the only difference between the modern and the precious -- can be a certain shift in color? At least on the surface. But if a foolish buyer did not look beyond that, or was refused true inspection until after the purchase, which is perhaps done through a catalog..."
The mare -- paled. Rarity simply took another step.
"You know about her spell," Rarity stated. "She's done this before. On your behalf, perhaps? But today, she was bored. Or irritated. You passed by the library, did you not?"
And the filly sneered. "We were waiting outside for a whole five minutes! And we just wanted some of your stupid --" stopped.
"Books," Twilight softly said. "There are editions where the only difference between the rare and the common is the color of the cover. At least until you see the interior and check the printing. But all you could do with a Canterlot residency is ask for them through the library exchange program, and then I'd have information on the borrower. You'd have to --" the edges of her vision seemed to be fading out "-- the only way you could do it would be through --" the world was shifting towards white "-- you would have to steal --"
And then her brother was on her back, his hands wrapping around her horn at the same instant Rarity and Zecora's teeth mutually clenched on her tail, pulling her down in mid-leap.
"-- let go of me!"
"She's a kid, Twilight!" Spike gasped, the only one who could still talk without risk. "You can't go after a kid!"
"Watch me!"
"Twilight, we need her, we have to get her to reverse this, at least on Rarity's dresses: it's too late for the apples and maybe the bakery, but if we don't get the Boutique restored...!"
Weakly, towards the back of the store, "My sofa..."
The filly was visibly scared, pulled back with corona ignited -- but in her fear, she remained defiant. "You really like books, don't you! I guess you're the nerd Element!"
Red eyes blinked. "You -- know who we are?"
"We know the supposed Elements live in Ponyville," the mare sniffed. "And I heard one of them ran the library, probably as some form of punishment. But as for the four of you being part of the set -- a dragon and a zebra, a pet and a --"
Davenport's stunned interruption might have saved lives. "They... the two ponies, they are... but my sofa, why isn't anypony doing anything about --"
"-- really? This is what gets to hold an Element?" A sniff. "Well, it looks like Murdocks was even more right than usual! Now. There is no record of my ever having previously sold antiques --"
"-- start-up business, is it?" Rarity calmly broke in.
"-- and should you be so foolish as to try and press charges, not only will my lawyer immediately intervene, but the nearest juvenile court is in Canterlot. So any attempt to put my innocent filly on trial will guarantee our ability to leave town. Which we are about to do anyway, and we will treat any attempt to stop us as assault and press charges against you accordingly. Just be thankful I'm in a hurry to bid this 'town' farewell, or I would have the zebra in prison for attacking my daughter. Which I'm still thinking about. Come, Spectra. That one will release her field: I guarantee it. Because we are leaving."
Mother and daughter resumed their trot, with deliberately decreased speed. It would take long minutes for them to reach the door, and Twilight felt the weight of failure pressing on every second.
Rarity sighed.
"Well, that's it," she quietly said. "Two Elements, one failure."
Spike slowly made his way off Twilight's back, shyly approached the black flank. "Rarity, Twilight will find the counter, you know she will..."
"After experimentation. And what that in itself might do to my stock... I am sorry, Twilight, I truly am, but there are times when your quest for knowledge becomes somewhat... explosive." Which produced nothing more than a single depressed nod. "You, the Element of Magic, and myself as Honesty -- beaten by a filly."
Twilight blinked.
"Rarity?"
One red eye winked.
"Truly, I would pay for my stock to be restored. If, by some spectacular coincidence, a young prodigy capable of such a feat just happened to come along. I would simply be grateful for a chance to sell again, and that I had not lost more time to recreating the lot. I would never consider pressing charges, and would in fact forget the incident entirely, as long as the prodigy and her manager did the work in peace and let me be thereafter. Oh, I would pay so much for that..."
Eight hooves paused in their smug departure.
"But what would I possibly have to offer, for one seeking antiques?"
Twilight waited, trying to keep her face straight.
"Twilight... do you recall that I have a silver bit?"
Eight hooves turned.
"Of course, Rarity," Twilight replied. "We all have one. Luna personally presented them to us after that one Nightmare Night. She said it was the smallest possible token she could give us to show her gratitude, and -- it was something to carry as a reminder of her greater gratitude." Her own was kept in the vault, right next to the Elements: Spike's was hidden somewhere, and by 'somewhere,' she suspected 'within his basket.'
Rarity nodded. "From the days when the coin was struck for each ruler. A first pressing. Incredibly rare. And of course, a prodigy could potentially change the color of gold to that of silver -- but could not alter the embossing of the design, and certainly not the density of the metal. There is very little hope for any way in which one might fake the age. And as tokens go... incredibly valuable. But I have never thought to sell it. And yet, if it would purchase the restoration of my stock..."
"A silver bit..." It had come from the mare.
Rarity smiled. And then turned around.
"Yes."
"A first pressing, you said?"
"Given to me by the Princess herself. I rather trust the source when it comes to the authenticity."
"Do the borders actually say --"
"-- 'Good For Nearly All Princess Labor Public And Private'. Yes. And I understand that after the incident with the farmer last moon, there are almost none left. His were ultimately taken as payment by the thrones, in order to keep that old motto from being used a second time in the modern day. Yes, I am aware a few collectors retain a scant coin here and there, but between myself and my friends, to have seven... well, undoubtedly that is now a rather significant percentage of what remains in the possession of the public."
"And you... would give that up? For the restoration of your stock? With no police involved, no pressing of charges -- nothing?"
"In a heartbeat. The incident -- in fact, all of the incidents -- all actions and words alike -- shall be entirely and permanently forgotten by myself and my friends, with the mysterious unicorn who committed the act -- which your prodigy fixed for me -- never to be found, something I will personally guarantee..."
"And that's your word."
"What else would it be?"
The mare smiled.
"As it coincidentally happens," she declared, "my daughter is something of a prodigy..."
They were back at the Boutique, and shimmer-white was flowing across Rarity's creations -- but Twilight really wasn't paying attention to the sight. She was trying to focus all her attention on feel again, as there was a chance that being in the presence of the reversal would give her some insight into the actual working.
Speech, however, had a way of intruding.
"I fail to see the purpose behind the original alteration of my stock," Rarity calmly said as she watched the restoration: it was slower work than the near-instant change had been. "The library, yes. I imagine a little fading of hue does much to suggest proper age, and perhaps some editions have different shades for their covers and spines. But my stock..."
"You don't have any kid sizes!" Spectra declared. "And the play sewing tables are boring! Mom was just gonna hang around forever, shopping for herself..."
"Ah. Boredom likely explains the bakery as well. And the apples?"
"That dumb earth pony didn't have any right to try and take it back!"
"After you took it without paying." For it had been the mother whom Applejack had fought with, while the daughter still had the apple in her mouth.
With the perfect reasoning of the highly offended, "It's just a stupid apple!"
"And Zecora?"
"Who?"
Calmly, "You met her. You restored her coat and mane before she went home." There had been no apples left to fix, and they'd passed a stunned-looking Applejack as she slowly towed her bit-laden cart towards the Acres. Davenport's goods had been the work of a moment, but Sugarcube Corner had been a loss: Mr. Cake had sold what he could and kicked the rest into the trash, for his goods had a typical lifespan of a mere day, and he had seen no point in holding onto anything for too long. In the end, all he'd been able to do was nod with tightly-controlled false politeness and hold most of the tooth grinding back until they were out of hearing.
"Oh. Her. We never expected to see one of those in Ponyville! It's bad enough having them at their Canterlot embassy, and besides, my mommy says zebras shouldn't even be allowed!"
Not without curiosity, "Allowed to what?"
"Anything! And did you see that one stupid slee --" The last of the glow faded. "-- there! That's everything restored!" She glanced backwards, beaming. "It's a really great spell, isn't it? Some ponies might think that real color changes is just the most minor working imaginable, but I've been thinking about what it could really do..."
Rarity slowly looked around the Boutique. "Yes -- that is everything. You do most excellent work, Spectra, and I thank you for your efforts on my behalf -- or will as soon as you do one last thing?" A black hoof gestured inwards.
"Oh, right!" Shimmer-white coated Rarity's body and when it faded, left the true white behind. "All done!" And Spike's scales flattened from sheer relief.
The mare, who had finally named herself as Patina, smiled at her prodigy. "Beautiful work, Spectra! You know... there might just be a market in this..."
"Somepony unknown vandalizes, and then you coincidentally appear to restore?" Rarity guessed. "Yes, I imagine there could be -- but in Canterlot, with so many unicorns who could learn the feel of her signature..."
Patina considered that, then nodded. "Not in Canterlot, then. So, you're sure that everything is back to the way it was?"
"Yes," Rarity smiled, examining her white hooves. "Quite expertly, too."
"Good. Then I'll take my silver bit now, please."
Rarity nodded, trotted over to a portion of wall, and coated it with soft blue glow. A number of security spells were temporarily suspended, including the illusion which made that section look like a normal portion of wall in the first place. Dials were rotated, signatures were read by internal devices, and eventually, tumblers opened. The energy rummaged around for a moment, and then Rarity gradually trotted back, a small field bubble trailing just behind her tail.
"So," she said. "Here it is." The bubble was moved to the front. "You can see its authenticity, I trust?"
Patina's eyes were slowly moving over the embossing. "It's real. I knew it was, because you said so. But to actually see one -- especially after what happened with the farmer..."
Another nod. "A true antique, and one of recently -- and greatly -- increased scarcity."
"That justifies the trip into your 'town' all by itself," Patina exhaled. "And then some. Even without trying to personally use the borders. All right. Let's make the exchange. Just recede your field from the edge, let me get a grip, and then you'll never see us again."
A third head movement of total agreement. "Are you ready?"
"Ready."
The soft blue bubble shot backwards, and the coin audibly rattled against the bottom of the safe before the door slammed, with grey steel immediately replaced by ordinary wall.
"Get out of my shop," Rarity said. And smiled.
Mother and daughter stared at her.
"You -- you... you can't do that!"
"I just did," Rarity calmly stated. "Why are you still here?"
"But -- you're Honesty! You said you would give us the bit! You can't lie about that! You made the promise, and --"
"-- actually," Rarity smiled, "I am Generosity. And so I am capable of -- and, incidentally, somewhat adept at -- lying. Additionally, your lack of education? Is not my fault. Did you need help in finding the door?"
Patina's face, which had been oddly blank for a moment, briefly surged into an expression of cunning. "Generosity? But -- that means you promised to give us something! So you have to! You have to give me anything I ask for, or you can't be --"
A soft blue field clamped down around the mare's jaw.
"Yes, that would be one interpretation," Rarity peacefully said. "A common one. Just about the most frequent error anypony makes. So again -- get out of my shop."
She released her field. The mare took a deep breath.
"Spectra -- put it back! Make it worse! Everything and everypony, as far as you can reach! Ruin everything"
The filly's horn ignited, the corona going from partial to full in a heartbeat, quickly surging into a double --
-- and nothing happened.
There was no glow on dresses, ponies, scales, or walls. There was just a double corona around a small horn, straining for something which could not be achieved. Because on the other side of the room, a purple horn was surrounded by a gentle pinkish light.
"You're... above average," Twilight calmly said. "For field strength, I mean. Decently so. You might have a shot at the Gifted School if it wasn't for absolutely everything else about you. And your color change spell is complicated. When it's already in place... it would have taken some time for me to learn how to undo it, and probably a lot of experimentation. But right now, you're just trying to project energy. Raw thaums. A completed spell has to be countered -- but when you're just trying to cast, I can block you, thaum for thaum, and have a lot of power left in reserve. I can keep blocking you all the way to the train. Rarity isn't Honesty -- but I am Magic, Spectra." She didn't see it as bragging, and no aspect of boast was in her tone. It was simply a statement. "I know your signature. I know your workings. I know you. And you're never coming back. So as my friend was saying -- did you need help finding the door?"
The shimmer-white corona faded, stage by stage, and the little horn went dark.
"You're liars," the angry filly declared. "Liars!"
"Con artists," Rarity said, "have a strange objection to being conned. Behind you and slightly to your right."
Mother and daughter looked at each other. Slowly turned, began to shuffle towards the door...
...Spectra glanced back.
"You like books," she told Twilight.
Purple eyes narrowed.
"When school starts again... my class has a field trip in the first moon. To the Canterlot Archives. I thought it was going to be really boring. All that black text on white pages..."
She smiled.
And then she was surrounded by the pinkish field, jerked into the air, and she wasn't smiling at all. She was completely silent, frozen in horror and fear, with all the screams belonging to her mother, with the gasps as joint custody of Rarity and Spike.
"Oh, that was a mistake..." Twilight peacefully said, and her eyes went white as her horn's corona blazed, surged to a double, the glow of her field intensified --
-- and then Spectra was back on the Boutique's floor, completely unharmed. Twilight's eyes were normal again, and her horn was back to a partial corona. The only new thing was a tiny bubble of field floating on her immediate left.
"I just sampled your signature," Twilight calmly explained. "It's a new working, something I've been researching to help me track thieves. Once I have it sampled, I can set a device to search for it. As many devices as I like: they're very inexpensive to make. Ship them out all over Equestria. Wherever you go, Spectra, for the rest of your life, every shop, every government building, starting with the Archives... there just might be a device hidden. Waiting for you. And if you're stupid enough to use your unique spell, something no other unicorn could possibly be working, they'll let their owners know. How much coincidence do you two think you and your lawyer can explain away, especially after I alert law enforcement about this? Or maybe -- even go higher than that..."
The filly was trembling. Shaking. Wordless. But she wasn't crying. Patina was the only pony doing that.
"You seem to have some trouble with basic directions," Twilight finished. "We'll walk you to the train."
Twilight kept her corona going until the last puff of the distant steamstack dispersed into the late afternoon air.
"Finally," she sighed, and let her horn go dark. "She may not be the strongest filly in the world, but being braced to stop her for that long, in case she tried to take the temper tantrums out on Ponyville, holding that all the way to the station, then waiting for the train..."
Spike nodded. "We'll get you some kale on the way back, and I'll make it for you once we're home."
With a smile of gratitude, "Thank you, Spike."
"Because you need some recovery food and time after casting that brand-new spell," her brother continued.
"Definitely."
"Which doesn't actually exist."
"No," Twilight shrugged -- then smiled. "But it's a really good idea for one, don't you think? I should probably work on it sometime."
Rarity softly laughed. "So will there be a scroll coming from this?"
"Several," Twilight admitted as she began to trot away from the waiting area, friend and sibling trailing in her wake. "I really do have to alert law enforcement, and I sure want to let the Archives know about her."
"But she can't actually change the books that way," Spike pointed out. "Not without opening them. Differentiation, remember?"
Twilight nodded. "But just making every last cover all one hue is bad enough." Which produced an instinctive shudder at the thought of an entire Archive worth of single-shade books. "Maybe that's what she was aiming for when she got my juice. She pushed her field through the open window, but she didn't know what was on the other side..."
Rarity picked up her pace a little. "You should let them know, yes. But that is not quite what I meant, dear. I was thinking about a scroll sent to the Princess. Perhaps something concerning your recently having learned how to bluff...?"
It got a giggle. "That's... kind of an awkward subject for a letter, Rarity."
Gently, with more than a touch of pride, "Motive reading, then? Because in the end, you were right."
"Maybe," Twilight considered. But she didn't have the words yet. "Do you want to go get some food? I'll buy. I know --" and the realization hit hard enough to hurt, stopping the trot in its tracks "-- oh, Rarity, you missed a day of sales, a tourist day! I'm sorry... I shouldn't have kept you out here for so long..."
A hoof gently touched her right shoulder. "Without you, Twilight, I would have had no stock left worth selling. There is always tomorrow."
"Unless something else happens," Twilight sighed.
"True," Rarity smiled her agreement. "And then there is always another little adventure. Still, I do rather look forward to suing Ms. Patina in court over my lost income, if only for what I am picturing as her expression when she is presented with the summons. Oh, I must ask -- were you able to copy the color-changing spell?"
A long pause -- and then Twilight shook her head. "Not from just feeling it being undone and stopping it before it could reach the targets. But honestly, Rarity? I think I can live without it."
"I rather agree --" and an abrupt pause, followed by "-- do you see that?"
Twilight glanced back, checked the angle of Rarity's gaze, then matched it. "That streak?"
"It's coming straight for us," Spike observed, shading his eyes. "Do you think --"
It hit the ground.
It was... orange. It was orange in the way Twilight's juice had not been orange. It was orange in a way nothing had ever been before, and one which nothing of sanity would ever wish to be again. And then there was the mane and tail to consider. They showed all the primary hues of a prism, only inverted, in entirely the wrong order, and fractured from a light which Sun had never produced.
"Found you!" the pegasus gasped. "You weren't at the library, and I've been flying all over town! As much as I could without anypony seeing me! I just took a nap, and -- it's not fur dye, there's no smell and I tried to wash, I was washing for almost an hour and it's not coming off, so it's gotta be unicorn magic, Twilight, somepony pranked me, this totally awesome prank which I can't do because it's unicorn magic and that makes it really stupid... Can you dispel it? Counter? Scrub? Whatever it's called? I was gonna hit the bar tonight and I can't go like this..."
They all stared at the formerly blue, currently orange Rainbow.
"...guys?"
Stared, with palms over mouth and fields clamped tight around jaws.
Huffily, "You're trying not to laugh. I can see you're all trying not to laugh. Just because I'm on the receiving end for a change -- you'd better not laugh..."
And Twilight, who had spent nearly three years in finally learning about empathy and understanding and forgiveness, let the laughter come, and heard the chorus erupt from brother and friend -- and, after a moment, friends, for Rainbow could see it from their perspectives, understood, and so the pegasus forgave them all.
...eventually.
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Oh awesome it updated!
...I don't remember what this is about at all. Something about Twilight chasing somepony for something or the other... I'll have to reread and catch up.
Thanks for not giving up on your story. Too many tales have gone unfinished.
7334775
Part of the promise I made in starting my Patreon page was to get some of the unfinished works shifted to Completed while making progress on the longer ones. Since then, this story, Stupid Direction-Face, and Post Negative Comments Only have reached their conclusions.
The next moderate-length stories to be continued (with a tiny chance of finishing the latter before the end of the month) will be A Confederacy Of Dunce Caps and Scootalift. However, this weekend, I should be updating one of the long ones...
I can't believe the title was literal in more ways than one. Really fantastic and hilarious.
An excellently amusing, if delayed, ending to this story.
Hmm. One thing I've noticed about your stories is that you seem to take a great pleasure in making the bad guy genuinely ignorant and/or horrible. Have you ever considered having a bad guy who isn't a nasty small minded git?
Two years, Estee.
Two years.
~
I loved this ending. Mind, in a roundabout way, it might have done some good for the filly.
I mean, what happens when she tries this scam on someone less concerned for the law.
7334827
Yes, and I got blasted for it. It was actually one of my favorite pre-downvote comments of all time: that the only ponies who felt like they were from the show were the perceived villains of the piece...
But in this case, the perpetrator, as demonstrated by the castings, was always intended to be petty. You might even say -- childish.
Also, I once saw a child in a toy store who had just -- how do I put this? -- treated a Thomas The Tank Engine train table as his personal toilet. For the more solid elimination function. And his mother was screaming at the employees, accusing them of having planted the feces. While the kid was still on top of the table with his pants around his ankles.
I got out of the area before learning whether she was trying to get a discount on the floor model as Slightly Used.
ETA: Of course, once Confederacy updates, I'll have a story resumed with a petty small-minded git as the arguable protagonist.
I have to feel kind of sorry for Davenport. It's even his special talent. The combination makes perfect sense in his own mind, to the point where it's his special talent. Sadly, that logic lies orthogonal to the rest of equinity.
There really needs to be a way to record that. The amount of legal squirming enabled by unpreservable evidence with a short half-life makes my teeth clench. The fact that there are devices that can recognize a given signature makes it seem like it should be possible. After all, how would they know what to look for without some imperishable representation of the right frequency? Of course, knowing this universe, the moment somepony proposed such a thing, he was immediately torn to shreds by a pack of rabid defense attorneys.
...
Am I thinking about this too much? I may be thinking about this too much. I'm just going to think happy thoughts about photonegative Rainbow Dash for a bit.
In any case, always happy to see an update from you, and this one was especially enjoyable. Hopefully, the notifications to the Archive and Canterlot law enforcement will be heeded quickly. Preferably by the less corrupt elements of the latter. And any elements of the former who are willing to accept that such a spell is even possible.
I'm just going to put the story in my Complete shelf and go to my happy place before I depress myself any further. Thanks again.
7334874
Those are generally set for a single owner, though. (Multiple recognition is possible, but gets expensive fast.) And basically, the device is taught "When you feel this signature, and only this signature, operate." It's like a lock which molds itself around the first key you put into it -- and once that molding takes place, it's set. Out of necessity, such devices have to be difficult to reset: otherwise, a thief could just blank out the current setting and key it to themselves as the new owner.
One of the side effects for this bit of magitek, at least for families with possible multiple users, is "First pony to get it out of the box wins." Congratulations: your teenager now has exclusive access to your new safe. Now, what was that ridiculously complicated reset procedure?
An appropriately childish villain for all the childish tricks. Hopefully both the appalling mother and small Spectra herself have learned a valuable lesson, though I doubt it. I've worked in shops and banks, and this level of manipulative, lying entitlement (minus the spells and whatnot) is not entirely unusual.
And oh, your Rarity is always so delightfully unafraid to fight dirty, both with hooves and words. I like her.
A good ending! At least nobody was (physically) hurt.
Keep going! ;)
Okay. Nice! Comeuppance at last!
... That wasn't a color swap spell, right?
But! She has a cutie mark! And is a Unicorn! How could she NOT have a personal spell? ... Then again, the trick is to make sure that it's the one that is her personal spell instead of any other one... But if you capture, contain, and isolate, you can keep her from learning any other spell and ruining evidence...
And keep her from casting long enough and Cutie Mark Failure Insanity Syndrome could allow revealing the spell, or applying knowledge from how Joyous Release and her parents' illness works... And forming it into a Cutie Mark Revelation potion/serum/spell, via Discord, or special psychothaumobiologists...
Or some engineered strain of Cutie Pox, perhaps with one of those virologist specialists from that fic that Starswirl teaches a filly how to read and stuff...
Forcing revealing of a Cutie Mark's special talent with what amounts to torture... Also note that you're talking about doing this on a kid. A massively irritating one, but still...
Character Evolution!
Rarity *is* Generosity, and I feel that if she had to spend any more unrestricted time around that small bundle of arrogance, she would have been *very* generous with her giving.
Eventually, most of her tiny mane and coat might have grown back, and with a lot of effort, her tail-stub might have been able to be un-knotted.
This was a lot of fun.
The multiple field-signature safe, another fine product from the Flim-Flam brothers. Capable of recognising five unique signatures (actually seven, but we don't need to tell anypony who the extra two slots are programmed to). Free installation! Ask about our matching set of field-signature door locks. All orders go into the draw for a family trip to [insert settled zone here] (date of trip non-transferable).
Sweet merciful CRAP the level of stupid.
mass vandalism, destruction of private and public property, forgery, theft, fraud...
and they just let the WALK AWAY?!
damm you harmony, you makes the poni stupider then rocks.
You may haz cover arts.
k61.kn3.net/2/8/B/F/3/0/F33.png
7335318 Presumably, they didn't want to get in worse legal trouble for false arrest and what not. Alerting law enforcement to their shenanigans — specifically, the fact that there's a filly with a very distinctive, very dangerous cutie-mark spell and no self-control — was about as good as things were likely to get.
Once the filly goes nuts and can't keep herself from casting it again, there's a decent chance she'll be caught red-horned, and then they can lock them up and throw away the key. (Or whatever.)
Hopefully this whole experience taught the filly a valuable lesson about consequences. Namely, that she's not exempt from them. Her mom could stand to learn it too, but it seems like it's a little late for that.
In the fall of last year I had a theory about where this was going. I'd just reread it from the start, and seen the beginning scene where Twilight has been up all night experimenting with trying to alter her magical signature. I theorized that unbeknownst to her she had actually succeeded in creating a bizarro magical copy of herself that was now following her around town casting the spell, or possibly visiting all her friends to pay them back for slights that the real Twilight would never hold against them.
So, that didn't happen. But this chapter was fun.
Estee, truly you have a talent for writing the most frustrating, irritating, infuriating characters possible. Sometimes I get so angry (at these fictional characters) it is almost enough to make me quit reading... but you always manage to come up with a mostly satisfying resolution.
Well that was kind of an anti-climactic ending. I was sort of hoping for more.
It's an interesting premise, but I don't believe for a second that the filly, who seems to have developed an excessive over entitlement, is going to stop causing trouble unless her circumstances change substantially. In that respect Twilight really should inform the authorities and maybe the Princesses. Frankly what has definitely been done and the implications of what may have been done seem like they really might justify an arrest and the involvement of whatever social services Equestria might have. Raising your child to be a troublemaker and disrespectful of other ponies not to mention allowing them touse serious alteration magic on them without their permission in addition to abusing her talents to enrich yourself in a dishonest and ethical way seems like it should be a crime if it isn't already.
7336085
It seems to me that a letter to Celestia and/or Luna along with testimony from the shopkeeper in addition to Twilight and her friends plus probably some from the townpeople is in order. Twilight is certainly able to communicate directly with them and I somehow doubt this is something that they would ignore. Some kind of visual recording of the changes and what happened with the filly in person seems like it'd be damning evidence.
Oh man, that mare and her foal were infuriating. Thank heavens they got put in their place at least a little...though I have to admit that I wish they got just a bit more...justice...for both their actions and their attitudes towards it.
7345737
Every time we run into Estee's more... difficult... antagonists, I always want to see a timeline where they, Murdochs, all of them... win. The Elements are gone, the Princesses are gone; they can be as mean and petty and entitled as they like...
For the five or so minutes it takes before Equestria is ruthlessly and completely crushed by Sombra (et al)... And they have to face the reality of the fact that the ultimate authority has no pity, mercy or compunctions and the fragile walls of society that enabled them to be the asshats they are is gone.
But of course, I'm very much less tolerant of that sort of sense of entitlement than most and highly vindictive to boot...
7345737 In some Equestrias, even foals will be dehorned for misuse of magic.
Think of it as akin to breaking wands for underage wizardry in the Potterverse... only a whole hell of a lot more painful.
Alternate universes and all that... so many of the nasty possibilities seem to gain prominence.
7392641
That's true! ...but I don't know if I'd want that on even that brat of a foal, especially seeing she had created a new spell that was impressive on even Twilight's standards and remains the only one who really knew the logistics of how to run it, meaning that, brat though she is, she's still got talent and potential and I'd hate to see that wasted just to punish her for being a brat, especially seeing it was really her mother that promoted that. If only she'd just apply it constructively...
I guess I'd be more for the alternate universe where she eventually changes her ways and becomes a respected star magician later in life, then.
7393322 There's also that one alt-universe where bad foals are fed to hydras...
OMIGOSH IT ACTUALLY UPDATED THIS IS SO AWESOME!
7335318
The story made it clear...they couldn't prove a DARN thing. Now...NEXT time...they can. Not to mention, the actual CRIME was committed by a juvenile...though, any any furniture would have had the signature fade...
But, yeah. They're now persona-non-grata.
what story was that?
7415681
Upcoming.
7415765 ah, l see
Wow, what a brat!
This story was... ehm... I think they should have found out earlier, and spent some time quietly planning how to enact justice. But it was still pretty awesome the way they solved that problem. Of course it'd be an overactive filly! Her mom was probably going up the wall with the stress of trying to keep her daughter's talents a secret so they could con ponies with fake antiques, while the daughter ruined colors wildly and crazily whenever she got a bit peeved. I thought it was fun and had a nice conclusion.
That part at the end...
Orngbow Dash is so screwed.
7530097
*points to story's dedication*
Oh Twilight, I know, I know... I feel the same way whenever I go pick up some brisket from Ed's Beef Pit And Piano Shop.
Hah. Solid early season story, Everypony is in character, Zecora is present -and- it's in the 'verse? Nothing but good things to say.
Although, really, Estee, I think you might be giving my own cynicism about pony nature a run for the money with your antagonists.
Vile, contemptible excuse for a child and a mother. You could kill them in cold blood and say with certainty that the world would be a better place.
Very unsatisfactory.
Was really hoping for some violence but Spike is such a bastard to cock block everyone.
A well written story as always but seriously I did not like this one at all.
I reviewed this story as part of Read It Later Reviews #70.
My review can be found here.
I'm oddly disappointed that she didn't quote Gord here, but I doubt anyone but me would get the reference.
On the whole a fun story, I kind of guess it was the filly when AJ made the comment about one stealing an apple. Still fun though :)
In my opinion this was an all around fantastic story. It was like a detective story, but it wasn't. It was funny, but appropriately so.
It had an edgy colored Rarity.
It also contained, and I might be looking into this too much, a few little hints of Rarilight. The 'just friends' nuzzle, purple-smart's freakout over Rarity's lost day, just the banter between them showing a deeper understanding of each other.
... don't judge me, blame Monochromatic.
Definitely downer ending. The two scumbags get away with a slap on the wrist and are most likely to continue their shit. A long, rather nice but not awesome build-up to... this.
I'm disappointed.
Going back and reading these earlier stories I really enjoy the slightly differing personality of the girls.
An interesting story. I personally liked the ending, the implication (IMO) being that Twilight's bluff would scare those two unicorns straight. Although, having read the comments, I can now see why some people wanted a different ending. My question, then, is whether anyone would try to write an alternate ending of their own...
Does literally every antagonist have to be a bigot in the Triptych setting? It makes it seem like named non-antagonists are the only ponies who aren't racist.
8802056
Some might say it is a particularly pointed reflection of our own world....
8079150
"door's to your left."
9917922
Two and less then a half years for a joke to hit. Not a new record, but I'm glad someone got it :)
8802056
It's slightly true in actual canon as well. Tribalism is visible in actions and bigotry towards other creatures is pretty common.
That was a truly satisfying ending!
Unfortunately, I've met parents like Patina: knowing their child is a brat, but totally incapable of seeing them as anything other than perfect, even when the evidence to the contrary is right before their eyes. I have no pity for them, especially knowing that one day their "perfect angel" is going to turn on them one day.
Man, I don’t have words for how much I wanted to hurt those two, mainly the mother. I’ll settle for this I guess. Hope we seen them later so they can get the comeuppance they deserve.