Welcome to Pony Vale

by Distaff Pope

10. New Management

Rarity sighs and flicks her ears in irritation as she looks at the monstrosity attached to her home. They could have at least tried for a unified aesthetic, she thinks as she compares the grey cement radio building to her house’s gently swooping gables. She trots around her house, looking for an angle where the new addition is masked by her house. Finding the proper angle, she gives her house a curt nod of approval.

At least I won’t have to deal with that awful construction racket anymore. Maybe things might finally approach a degree of normalcy around here, she thinks as she trots to her front door. Rarity pulls a needle out of her saddlebag and pricks her hoof before pressing it against the bloodstone door. The door’s runes glow red as it rolls open and Rarity trots inside. A despondent Twilight curled up on the couch immediately crushes her hopes for normalcy. “Twilight, dear, what’s wrong?” Rarity asks, moving to sit next to her marefriend and stroke Twilight’s mane.

“Everything!” Twilight yells, twisting her head around to look at Rarity. With a sigh of relief, Rarity notes that Twilight’s coat is back to its usual lavender hue. “My life doesn’t make sense… and not just in the Pony Vale way, I mean there are really big gaps in my history that I can’t fill… Like, do you remember when I first moved in with you?”

“Quite well,” Rarity says, nodding her head. “What wonderful heady days those were.”

“Right, well, I sent a lot of letters to Princess Celestia, or at least a pony I thought was Celestia, but now… How did I get her the letters? How did she get me the letters?”

Rarity bites her tongue while Twilight continues. “And that’s just the big thing. There are other things… I have a life back in Canterlot, family, a brother, so… why haven’t I tried harder to get back to them. Why can I only really seem to focus on Pony Vale? Even now, when I’m thinking about all the ways my life doesn’t make sense, a part of me keeps thinking about tests I can run to see if Pony Vale has some previously undiscovered mind-manipulating property or…” She frowns and rolls her eyes up. “My horn! Maybe when the town runed it, they put in some sort of glyph that… I have to go!”

Before Rarity can respond, Twilight sprints upstairs. Rarity sighs as she hears the door to Twilight’s library swing open and bolt shut. “Well, this can only end well,” Rarity mutters to herself as she glances at the clock. “And why does she always have to have these big fits right before my show? It’s like she times it so I can’t do anything until after the show… or during the weather.” She shakes her head as a clicking sound comes from the new door connecting Rarity’s house to the station.

“I wasn’t talking to you,” she says as she pushes herself off the couch and trots towards the door. “And I’d appreciate it if you all didn’t eavesdrop on conversations that take place in my home. I don’t micromanage your side of things do I?”

The clicking intensifies as a wave of tiny crabs scurry away from the doorway and begin to coalesce into a solid vaguely-equine form. Its barrel has six legs and a set of claws and its eyes sit on a pair of stalks. The creature clicks at her as the tiny crabs crawl into its carapace.

“Alright, alright, I admit that… perhaps I’ve been a bit controlling lately but that’s only because I want this transition to be as smooth and painless as possible. Once I’m confident that you’ll be able to carry the torch in my steed, I’ll gladly pass over the reins.”

Rarity steps into the radio station and closes the door behind her as the creature continues its emphatic clicking. “This station is my child, I have a right to be protective of it.” The creature clicks in response. “No, I’m not being racist. I’d be reluctant to relinquish control no matter who was taking over, be they unicorn, earth pony, pegasus, or crab pony. Honestly, I’ve been nothing but polite to you, but you still brandish these filthy accusations of racism when you don’t get your way.”

The creature glares and clicks in response. “One time – one time! – I say you’re a bit crabby, and now I never hear the end of it. You know I was just commenting on your mood.” Rarity trots into the new broadcast room. “Now, I simply must deliver the news, so if you really wish to continue this conversation, we can do it after your interview, alright?” She nods at Lyra as she takes her seat while the crab pony clicks some more. “I’m putting you after the weather because I want to end on the most interesting news of the day, not because of some secret anti-crab-pony agenda, so can you please put the race card back in the deck?”

After a bit more clicking and cracking, the creature scuttles away. “And I haven’t called you by your name because I literally can’t pronounce a single syllable of it. I’d be happy to call you by a name I can pronounce.”

“You alright?” Lyra asks from the control booth as Rarity takes a sip from the tea sitting next to her microphone.

“Just fine,” Rarity says. “My marefriend is apparently having some identity crisis, and I’m in a bit of hot water with the new manage–” She winces. “Please tell me you didn’t hear that.”

A clicking comes from the wall in response. “Wonderful. Just what I needed.” She leans close to the microphone as the soundproof door clicks shut and the on-air light clicks on. “Back from the dead we come, brighter and louder than ever. Welcome to Pony Vale.”

***

Did you miss me, listeners? I certainly missed you. I missed sitting here, informing you of the days events, giving you the latest updates on our towns newest resident, and… I could just go on and on about what I missed, but instead of doing that, let’s just get back into the swing of things, shall we?

We first heard about this story as a tip from one of our temporally-displaced citizens several weeks ago, and even though his prediction only recently came to pass, I’d still like to applaud this citizen’s diligence in reporting the news. We here at the station depend on listeners like him or her to keep the news current. Remember, if you see something… Well, don’t say anything, of course, but if you think it’s newsworthy, give us the message in the usual way, as our station now has a pony posted on the roof at all times searching for semaphore messages. After you deliver the message, please report to the spa for a complimentary mind scrub.

Anyways, some of you might have noticed your packages are coming from the post office with their contents replaced by a viscous slime that responds… strangely to equine contact. Don’t worry, though, our town hasn’t been invaded and we aren’t about to deal with those terrible slugs again. Bob, the horror from beyond space and time, is helping Ditzy Doo sort and deliver the mail, and that means that occasionally the contents of your packages will turn into extra-dimensional ooze.

While I can understand your frustration, we shouldn’t get upset with Bob. He’s just trying to fit in, and can’t we all empathize with being the outsider desperately seeking acceptance? Just buy package insurance before you send anything, and for the love of all you hold dear, please do not touch the extra-dimensional ooze. It has properties not native to this dimension and should be considered a class-zeep biohazard.

Just a reminder, of all the possible biohazards, a class-zeep biohazard is The. Worst. Possible. Biohazard. So… you know, just follow class-zeep biohazard protocol if you get one of these special packages and everything will be fine. Euthanasia booths are conveniently located on every street corner in Pony Vale.

Oh, and on the topic of Bob, have you seen him and Ditzy Doo together? They are just so cute. It almost makes the scars his terrible visage inflicts upon my psyche worth it. Why, rumor has it that the two are going on a date to Jubilee Park this very evening to witness the triumphal winter fall, apparently a very rare astrological event that signifies the upending of an era. Doesn’t that just sound so romantic, listeners? Maybe after I’m done here, I’ll take my darling Twilight out on the balcony so we can observe this rare phenomenon for ourselves. She does so love the stars. Anyways, I hope Bob and Ditzy have a wonderful night out on the town, and I hope the rest of the town respects the couple’s privacy and steers clear of Jubilee Park.

[Wind howls]

Oh… Listeners… This year’s Cutie Mark Crusader letters have been mailed. If you receive a sheet of blank parchment with a black bit-sized dot located precisely in the center of it, you know what to do. Your youngest has been selected to join the Crusade. The induction ceremony will be held when the snow melts and the timber wolves howl. Savor the time you have with your fillies and colts now for it might be coming to an end.

Hmm, well, this is… unfortunate. The winged unicorns have issued a statement. Let’s see… “Those who sought to harness the sun, in their hubris, awoke the hunger that sleeps. Now, he arises to devour and we are bound by ancient accord not to interfere. The hopes for your town rest in the hooves of the star-child.” Oh… It’s one of those statements isn’t it? You know, just once, I’d like to hear somepony say that everything’s fine. We haven’t had a good “everything’s fine” statement in sooooo long. Anyways, to whoever this star-child might be, please do what needs to be done to save our town and fulfill whatever vague prophecy shapes these events. You are, of course, our only hope.

[Muttering]

At the very least, you’d think these prophecies could be direct. Say something like, “a giant scaly toothy monster is coming from the Everfree to eat us all, but his third left tooth is particularly sensitive so just hit him there.” Is that too much to ask for?

[Rarity takes several deep breaths]

But, I digress, listeners. Obviously, we shouldn’t get mad at the winged unicorns for giving us vague and ominous prophecies, we should be thanking them for giving us any prophecy at all. At least now, we know that some vague and undefined doom is heading towards us, and knowing, as they say, is an undisclosed percentage of the battle.

In better news, our tiny town now has oceanfront property… and an ocean. Residents were surprised to come outside after a major winter storm to see that a large portion of the south side of town had been replaced with a seemingly endless ocean. While you can walk around this ocean in roughly an hour, the ocean always appears endless from the shore, and nopony has managed to cross it directly. I, for one, can’t wait to hit our town’s newest feature once summer comes.

[Irritated clicking]

Yes, I’m getting to that. The ocean is also host to the race of sentient crab ponies you might have seen wandering around town the last few days. While they might appear strange, they are ponies just like the rest of you, and we should welcome them with open claw– Hooves! We should welcome them with open hooves.

[More irritated clicking]

It was a slip of the tongue, that doesn’t make me a racist.

[Rarity sighs while the clicking continues]

As some of you might have guessed, our new station manager is a crab pony, and he is an–

[Furious clicking]

She! She? Really? Well, she is an absolute delight to work with, and we will be having an interview with her later in the show.

[Resentful clicking]

Well, now, how was I supposed to know your gender? I’m not really familiar with… any of the sexual characteristics of crab ponies, actually, and before you start, no, that doesn’t make me a racist, it just makes me uninformed. Now, I have a show to do, or… actually, now we have a word from our sponsors and…

[Shuffles through papers]

This time, it isn’t from Sugarcube Corner. I would like to apologize to all my listeners again for that obscene and, frankly, grotesque advertisement we played a few weeks ago. I promise that nothing like it will happen again.

Have you been feeling too thin, too fat, too sweaty, too clammy, too cold, too hot, too shaky, too irritable, too depressed, too happy, too nauseated, too gassy, too tired, too anxious, too angry, too achy, too jittery, or just plain worn out? Then ask your doctor about Reversia, absolutely guaranteed to reverse your symptoms.

Warning, side effects of Reversia can include but are not limited to anorexia, obesity, intense sweats, fever, chills, intense irritability, depression, mania, vomiting, diarrhea, anxiety, anger-management issues, deep muscle aches, the shakes, exhaustion, dementia, coma, death, reanimation, a hunger for the flesh of the living, the living rot, consumption, forgetfulness, ultra-death, the ability to see through the chain of causation that binds us, and nausea. Results are not typical or guaranteed, and if you feel any of the above-mentioned symptoms, then it’s absolutely vital you keep taking Reversia. If you don’t, then you might experience…

Hmm, they just have a strange glyph here that burns my eyes and parts the veiled fog of my subconscious… I feel… I feel…

[The pitch of Rarity’s voice changes]

No, this is all wrong, this… I’m not… where’s the boutique? Why am I… what’s this thing in front of me? I don’t think I’m supposed to be here.

[Rarity screams]

Everything is wrong. I’m not supposed to be here. None of us are supposed to be here. This place, it’s wrong. It’s completely utterly wrong–

[Rarity clears her throat]

You’ll have to pardon me, listeners, I have no idea what came over me, but for one terrifying moment, I was convinced that… It doesn’t matter, listeners, what does matter is that I’m back to normal now, and the news shall continue as planned. Also, to any future advertisers, please make sure all symbols in your scripts are Equestrian in origin.

An update from the secret lab buried miles below town: “The epicenter of the earthquakes continues to rise. In a few weeks, it will be upon us. Already, our lab fissures and cracks with each earthquake. We do not know how much longer we can last, but we will continue to research until that last dark day is upon us. It is our fondest hope that we can discover the cause of these earthquakes before the end is upon us.”

I would like to thank the members of the secret lab miles below Pony Vale for their tireless efforts to push the envelope of equine understanding, and I promise that should the worst come to pass, your names will be etched upon the endless stone monuments of Jubilee Park. Also, could you see about transmitting the names of everypony in your lab up here?

The PTA will be having another bake sale to help rebuild the school, and… Oh! Bob will be baking a special treat from his home dimension. If you ever wanted to know what horrors from beyond space and time eat, head on by the school gymnasium on Thursday, Silnyax 57th. I’m sure it will be absolutely delicious… or positively indigestible. Either way, it promises to be an interesting bake sale.

Do you remember the stone clock at the base of the Founder’s statue? The one that started moving of its own accord recently? Well, it is now over halfway to noon… or midnight, as you prefer to see it. While I have no idea what will happen when the clock inevitably finishes its rotation, I’m sure it will be interesting. Right now, most ponies seem to think its a viral marketing campaign for the mysterious castle we occasionally see floating on the bank of fog. Others think it’s a countdown for a special parade in honor of the Founder. Well, you can certainly color me excited.

[A clock chimes]

And… Oh… News from the library. Citizens have reported seeing librarians emerging from the library late at night when most ponies are safely asleep. After leaving the library, the librarians were seen slithering over to the… radio station, where they completely encircled it and sang sweet sad unfathomable songs that seemed to promise tantalizingly forbidden knowl… Oh no. Listeners, I’m afraid I must go, so… until I return, the weather.

***

Rarity sprints out of the broadcast room, racing towards Twilight’s room, leaving Lyra behind to deal with an angry clicking crab pony. Inside Rarity’s mind, the tumblers fall into place. The strange behavior, the elongated horn, the ritual the librarians performed, the Pink Herald’s cryptic wo–

“Hiya!” A pink shape says, suddenly appearing at the top of the stairs. Its smile threatens to swallow its whole face and its eyes are the pale blue of a cold winter day. “So…” the Pink Herald says. “Whatcha up to?”

Rarity tries to get around her, but the Pink Herald always seems to be directly in front of her. “Oh, and you should really call me Pinkie. I can’t tell you how much I hate that little nickname those silly panicky villagers gave me.”

“Uh… what?” Rarity says as Pinkie shifts to allow Rarity access to the landing while still blocking the path to Twilight’s room.

“Wasn’t talking to you, silly,” Pinkie says, twirling around and laughing. “No… That message wasn’t for you, but this one is: Your sweet little Twilight is so… well, she’s kind of happy, right now. Do you really want to take that from her? To replace her ignorance with terrible knowledge? Why… if you told her the truth, that might speed up the transformation. Right now, maybe her ignorance is all that’s keeping her her. Who knows? But if I were you, I’d definitely try to keep her in the dark and away from all those books of forbidden knowledge. Hopefully she’ll last long enough for us to make our deal.”

“I can make that deal now,” Rarity says, still struggling to get past Pinkie. “Name your price and you’ll have it. Anything I have is yours if it will save her.”

Pinkie laughs. “I know, silly, that’s why I chose her as my leverage. Unfortunately, I don’t need anything from you yet, and if I save her now, well… I hate to say it, but you might try to get out of fulfilling your oath, and I’m sure none of us want that. So… anyways, you should probably try super hard to keep her from getting all librarian-ey for as long as you can.”

“I’ll take that into consideration,” Rarity says, glaring as Pinkie slides to the side. “Is there any more advise you have to give or is that it?”

“Ooh! Just one more thing,” Pinkie says, shooting a hoof up into the air. “Remember what those pretty little runes on your horn do and try to keep Twilight from doing something stupid. Anyways, I’ll let you two crazy kids have fun for now. T-T-Y-L!” Pinkie says as she bounces into the air and out of existence, leaving a deflated Rarity to lean into the wall and stagger to Twilight’s room.

“Rarity?” Twilight says, opening the door before Rarity can reach it. “Are you alright? I thought I heard voices.” Rarity notes that Twilight’s eyes are bloodshot and the horn is pointier than it was. Hopefully the bloodshot eyes are just an effect of her crying.

“Oh, yes, dear, I’m fine. I just… I wanted to check on how you were doing after our little talk earlier. I’m afraid I only have a few minutes, though…”

“The weather?” Twilight asks, raising an eyebrow. Rarity nods. “You know, you could just talk to me after. Oh! And thank you so much for radio-proofing the upstairs. I can’t hear the radio in my head at all.”

Rarity gives a small smile that doesn’t reach the eyes. “Of course, darling, I just thought that since the station would be playing non-stop now, you could use a little sanctuary.”

“And it’s great. There are just… Oh, I feel like I can do anything, right now.” Her horn lights up and she arranges a pile of books behind her, making sure to shelve them in proper alphabetical order. She doesn’t have to look back at them. “I’ve been reading through this rune language you use, and I think I’m starting to figure out what all these marks on my horn mean. It’s… a lot of these marks don’t have anything to do with blocking out the world’s energy field.”

Rarity sits at a crossroads, two paths laid out for her. One burns with a hungry honesty that threatens to devour the world in an attempt to reveal the “truth.” The other… It gives her time to think of a better solution.

“Well, just don’t do anything drastic, alright, Twilight? I… if you feel anything wrong at all, let me know.” Rarity says, giving closer attention to the room. At this point, there are so many stacks of books, Rarity worries the floor doesn’t have enough support. “Also, what do you say the two of us have a little date night tonight? There’s supposed to be a simply wonderful stellar alignment… maybe we could talk about our favorite constellations over a few glasses of wine?”

“Sure!” Twilight says, beaming as Rarity nuzzles her neck. “That sounds… just great. Ooh! I could bring my book of star charts. and–”

“That won’t be necessary,” Rarity says before kissing Twilight’s neck. “I’d prefer it if it’s just the two of us and a few bottles of wine. You can go awhile without your books, right?”

“Yeah,” Twilight says, glancing back at her stacks and stacks of tomes. “Yeah, I can go awhile. I mean… Yeah, I can go for a bit.”

“You don’t know how happy I am to hear you say that,” Rarity says before her thoughts turn back to the broadcast. She sighs. “I will be back in a few minutes, perhaps you can head downstairs and choose which wines you want to taste tonight while I finish up the show.”

“Sounds great,” Twilight says, quickly re-sorting another stack of books. “I’ll see you in a bit.”

***

Well, listeners, I apologize for leaving so suddenly, but there was something I had to take care of. Anyways–

[Eager clicking]

I was getting to that. To celebrate our grand relaunching, I have a special interview with our new station manager, a very wonderful and delightful crab pony.

[Irritated clicking]

Well, I don’t know how to pronounce your name, so unless you have a–

[Exasperated clicking]

Fine. Susan it is. Please welcome the wonderful and delightful Susan to the Pony Vale Public Radio family. So, Susan, for the sake of our listeners, what do you do at the station?

[Several minutes of informative clicking]

Well, I see. That is a very big responsibility, one I’m sure you’re more than able to handle. After all, it’s not like the town council literally picked a random pony off the street to be a station manager.

[Angry clicking]

No, I wasn’t being condescending, I was… I’m sure the town council had a perfectly valid reason to pick you as the station manager, even if you don’t have any radio experience.

[Angrier clicking]

It’s not racist! Your lack of experience has nothing to do with you being a giant crab pony. I would have the exact same complaint if you were a unicorn, an earth pony, or a pegasus. Your race has absolutely nothing to do with this, and quite frankly, I’m getting a little tired of you saying everything’s racist. I am putting my best hoof forward here, and I would appreciate it if you’d try to do the same.

[Pedantic clicking]

Oh, so I’m supposed to say best claw forward around you? Because… You told me not to use the term claw around you before you went to the weather. You can’t have it both ways Susan. Either I treat you like everypony else or I treat you like a crab pony. And before you start, yes, I suppose that is a little racist, since you’re asking for special treatment based on race, which is the definition of racism!

[Terse clicking]

You can’t fire me! Check the station contract, as long as there’s a station, I still have my show and I have 50% control of the station, so we’re stuck with each other, and this station can’t do anything unless the two of us agree to it. That’s what this is about, isn’t it? You just want me out so you can have complete control of the station and play… whatever you want.

[Racist clicking]

Really? After all your accusations of racism, you go and say that? This interview is over!

[Affirmative clicking]

Well, listeners, that’s our time for today. Once again, I would like to extend a hearty welcome to Susan and I sincerely hope she finds a place at the Pony Vale Public Radio family table. Perhaps as the main dish. Stay tuned for the sound of boiling water. Good night, Pony Vale. Good night.

Author's Note:

Boom. More Pink Herald Pinkie for your reading pleasure and a glimpse at her master plan.

Comments

[Arzoo]

Now I wonder. Is Twilight trapped in a bizarre alternate Ponyville... Or is everyone trapped in it. Is there a "real" Rarity trapped beyond the town, or is she right here?

It's hard to tell if Twilight becoming some sort of Librarian is really her restoring her love of knowledge and maybe finding herself, or becoming a Nightvale institution even more. It seems her passion for forbidden knowledge is getting her things she absolutely needs to know, but also that she's becoming a monster.

Pinkie doesn't want her to know what's happening to her, but claims that's to extend her sanity. She said pretty outright evil/creepy stuff before, but is she creepy because she's manipulating things to ultimately undo the town's hold on ponies and free Twilight, or because she wants creepy evil stuff?

[Distaff Pope]

5487467 Pinkie is just a mare on a mission, and her morality is less black and white and mote blue and orange.

[Iron Comet]

Looks to me that either this is Ponyville thats inhabitants that have had there minds overwritten with other personalitys or there copys with a link to the originals, same bodys but diffrent personalitys but a connection to the originals. The interesting thing is they mention Ponyville as a town early on and make a comparison between there town and Ponyvale so I'm guess copys with links as my theory. So there are two Raritys, with diffrent personalitys running around but the right stimulas can link there minds. Oh, and was the enture Crab Pony thing just a way of joking Rarity has crabs?

[Evilhumour]

Racist clicking just made me smiles.

Things are becoming untagled, I feel.

[Distaff Pope]

5487671 Honestly, I just wanted something completely absurd as station management. I decided on a completely unintelligible crab pony who thinks everything is racist because... well, it's a completely unintelligible crab pony who thinks everything's racist.

5487764 You have no idea how fun it was to write her "dialogue." What do you mean by untangled?

[Evilhumour]

5487973 The truth of the other side is beginning to push in, the world where Twilight came from is beginning to make itself present in Pony Vale. That's what I meant.

[TheifofZ]

5487539 The Pink Hera- Oh, Jesus Christ, putitawayputitawayputitaway, im sorry, oh jeeze! Pinkie always followed Blue and Orange physics. Why not the morality too.

Post Script: Pinkie is fucking terrifying, guys. And she really doesn't like being called that one nickname.
There, happy? I didn't say it. Jeeze.

[Distaff Pope]

5743019 We apologize, there is currently a temporal distortion localized around the town radio station. We don't know when it will clear up, but our town soothsayer says we can expect more news once the Creator has cleared his schedule out, and to expect a bit more news whenever Sweetie Belle's story has concluded. We later burned the soothsayer for speaking in incomprehensible riddles in direct violation of town statute.

[Arzoo]

5744784

I don't suppose they could reanimate the soothsayer's ashes for additional information?

[Ianthe]

Just finished this, and it's rather delightful, somehow true to the spirit of both MLP and Night Vale. I really love the vein of pitch black humour running through it, balancing that with a solid horror plot is a hard thing to do without veering into dreadful parody, and you're pulling it off very well so far.

I don't know where the story is heading (and perhaps I don't want to know, given the hideous fate that would await me should I learn of the Pink Heralds' plan in advance), but it's a terribly entertaining ride so far.

[Distaff Pope]

7014649 Thanks. Unfortunately, I won't be updating this story until I'm finished with Sweetie Belle, but I think once that's done we'Lloyd go to monthly or bi-weekly updates.

[Starlight Nova]

Are you a aware that there is another story with the same title and cover art?