• Published 11th Jan 2018
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House of the Rising Sunflower - kudzuhaiku



Hard work is its own reward, and competence can be one's ultimate undoing.

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Power lunch

Sundance found not one, but four different salads upon his plate, each of them commingling in their juices. Some of them were wet salads, with the exception of the potato salad, which wasn't really wet, but nor was it dry. He'd never really thought about the state of potato salad, and the descriptive nature of its salad-state. It was cold and it—well, it was potato salad. Was it moist? He couldn't tell and even worse, he was embarrassed to be distracted by such a thing right now, at this very moment.

As for the other salads, one was familiar, but the other two were entirely new to him. Macaroni salad was like potato salad, in a similar solid state, but with noodles instead of potatoes. This macaroni salad seemed a bit fancier than he was used to, and it certainly had a southern Equestrian twang to it, because it had pimentos and green olives. The bright colours made it festive and appealing to the eye.

The two mystery salads were enticing, bright, and appealing. Sundance studied the first of the two; he found shredded carrots, raisins, dark red cherries, and confettied coconut. The juice from the cherries stained everything a vivid shade of crimson—so much so that it was almost bloody. Sundance was eager to try it, but the other mystery salad beckoned to him with a curious siren song signaling satisfaction.

As for the fourth and final salad, Sundance saw minced cucumbers, hunks of pineapple, and succulent chunks of watermelon. There were little green leafy bits that smelled like mint and made him want to sneeze. Never in his life had he encountered such salad decadence and Sundance savoured the moment while he took it all in. Such colours. The smell. All the different shapes. It was just as much a feast for the senses as it was the body.

With the sensation of eyes hot upon him, Sundance looked up, glanced around, and discovered that Liberty Belle had affixed her curious gaze upon him. She was a quiet little filly, and hadn't said or fussed much at all—just so long as her father kept some of his attention focused upon her. Cherry Turnover put down a pink plastic bowl on the high chair tray, sat down at the table, and made herself comfortable.

"Nuh," Liberty Belle said to Cherry Turnover.

"Oh, here we go," Argyle said with much dismay. "Solid foods are the bane of her very existence. She likes soft foods… and puddings. She loves puddings of all kinds. But you put some solid food in front of her and it is very much like a duelist demanding satisfaction. You know there's going to be trouble."

Liberty Belle inhaled suddenly, drawing in a vast amount of breath, and her eyes opened wide.

"No," Argyle said to her before the siren wail could escape. "You wouldn't dare. Should you dare, we shall have words, you and I."

In response, she shuddered, cast a stormy glare at her father, and then deflated with a gasp.

"That's right. There'll be no shrieking today, Mademoiselle Belle. There's been quite enough of that as of late." Some of Argyle's good cheer returned; his tone and mannerisms recovered some of their lost theatricality.

"I'd still like to know how you do that," Fudge Turnover said to her husband.

"Charming the ladies is what I do," Argyle replied with a half-shrug, which made Cherry Turnover begin to titter. "In that endeavour, I have been most successful, I feel."

There was no tableware. No spoons, nor forks. Just plates and glasses. For all the refinement, there was still a sense of relaxed casual sensibility. Sundance allowed himself to be at ease and studied his plate in anticipation of the first bite. When he heard a soft yelp, he looked up just in time to see one of Liberty's ears tugged on by Cherry Turnover. It was a gentle tug, more of a surprise than anything, and when the filly opened up her mouth to protest, Cherry Turnover levitated in a glistening, dripping chunk of cherry, a droplet of which stained Liberty's chin scarlet.

This sudden betrayal was almost too much to bear and for a few seconds it appeared as though Liberty Belle might just have herself a meltdown. She was clearly offended; one of her mothers had tricked her with a tug of her ear. But then, very much to Sundance's surprise, she chewed and her expression became one of intense thoughtfulness. When it became clear that she liked what she had sampled, there was a collective sigh of relief from around the table, Sundance included.

"Mmm," Liberty Belle said to her mother, Cherry. "More?"

Just like that, the conflict was over; good parenting had won the day.

"Behold the sweet and endearing application of feminine treachery," Argyle muttered. "May it save us all."


"Well, you told me about yourself, so I suppose it is only fair to regale you with my life story," Argyle said whilst he leaned up against Fudge Turnover.

Empty plates were pushed into the middle of the table. A cooling cup of tea steamed in front of Sundance. Near the right edge of the table, a rime-encrusted pitcher of iced tea awaited to satisfy thirsty desire. Even if he wanted to, Sundance could not possibly eat another bite. Liberty's head was bobbing somewhat and she fought a valiant, courageous battle to keep her eyes open.

"To truly understand me, you must understand how I came to be," Argyle said. "It is the foundation of my character. My great-grandsire moved out of the Hayseed Swamps and relocated himself in the great city of Baltimare. A place that I am confident that you are familiar with."

Argyle's grin was downright disarming.

"He took a job with the Peridot Packaging Company, a shipping import company that deals in tea, coffee, spices, and exotics. He was proud—"

"Exotics?" asked Sundance apologetically.

"Oh… yes… exotics. Fabrics. Fibres. Fine cottons, linens, silks, furs… luxury items. Jewelry. Occasionally enchanted items. Mostly stuff made by minotaurs. Things like self-repairing clothing. The stitching is the secret, I'm told." Argyle inhaled. "My great-grandsire was a learned pony, a real rarity from his place of origin."

Sundance was utterly and completely charmed by how Argyle pronounced learned as learn-ed.

"He was put in charge of crate accounting. At the end of the shift, he had to match each crate's number to that of the invoice. He had to make certain that no crates were missing, stolen, or otherwise misplaced. It was a complicated and thankless job, because crates regularly went missing. The workers weren't paid as well as one might expect, so it was common-practice to help oneself to the occasional crate of goods.

"To put an end to these nefarious practices, my great-grandsire hired himself a goon out of his own pay. I will concede that what he did was a brutal practice, but with time, no more crates went missing. Profits rose sharply. When the money rolled in, my great-grandsire negotiated better pay for the dock and warehouse workers. Even though he wasn't exactly liked, he was respected. I suppose the increase in wages soothed the many hurts left behind by the savage beatings. That was my great-grandsire's legacy.

"Now, my grandsire, his son, he became the dock manager and over time he rose in the ranks to also manage the warehouse. He brought order to the business and it became a well-oiled machine. Shippers whose goods arrived late were docked a portion of their pay and those who delivered on time got considerable bonuses, which increased with every shipment that was either early or on time. These bonuses became quite sizable. My grandsire knew how to motivate others using either the carrot or the lash. He wasn't picky, but he prefered the carrot. The lash fatigues both involved, the lasher and the lashee.

"My mother, bless her sunny soul, bought the Peridot Packaging Company when she turned twenty-five. Within five years, she had branches in Fillydelphia and Manehattan. We handled imports along the entire eastern coast. My mother, she had me late in life, and by sheer coincidence I was born on my mother's thirty-fifth birthday.

"I had every advantage made available to me. The best schools, the best tutors. I was prepared. One day, when I was young, I had this story told to me for the first time. At the end of it all, my mother and father said to me that I was expected to go on and do even greater things. Exceptional things. It was expected of me. Being young, I didn't truly understand what was said. I just assumed that I'd go on to do great things. I was young, privileged, affluent, well-educated, and by the time I was a young adult, I knew everything that could possibly be known.

"Being a young pony that knew everything, I went to college so I might revel in my smug superiourity. I could have gone to a far nicer school, but I was rebellious and went to community college for city planning. You can't see it right now, because I am sitting on it, but my mark consists of three skyscraper silhouettes… a sort of skyline, I suppose. My first love was city planning, which I went to school for.

"For me, college was a time of experimentation. I got to see how the other half lived. It was an eye opener. For the first time in my life, I was exposed to poor ponies. The working class. It shook up my sense of self-worth, let me tell you. I had everything, while these ponies had nothing. I began to understand how well-off I was. I knew that I would probably get whatever dream I went chasing after… but I knew that many of my classmates would live to see their dreams crushed.

"That is, perhaps, the most valuable thing that money can purchase. Protection from failure." Gaze distant, eyes unfocused, ears half-limp, Argyle's expression became one of profound sadness. "Even if the worst happened and I couldn't somehow fumble my way through college, I could always just go home and work for my parents. The shame of their disappointment would be easier to bear than the cruel ache of failure and poverty. Knowing this changed me as a pony."

Sundance, who had never gone to college, wondered what he'd missed out on.

"As I have previously stated, college was a time of experimentation for me." Argyle's eyes darted to each of his wives. "I became somewhat involved with a radical earth pony group. Flirting, I suppose you might say. Dangerous flirting. It was a pro-democratic group that openly spoke out against the royals. When I found out they were involved in violent demonstrations, I distanced myself from them forthwith, as I did not wish to besmirch whatever future reputation that I might have.

"I found a different group of earth ponies," Argyle continued. "Better ones. Ones who abhorred violence and conflict. They recognised that there were problems within the system but they did not stoop so low as to make everything worse. They recognised that Twilight Sparkle was aware of the problem and praised her efforts for attempting to preserve elements of earth pony culture that was in grave danger of extinction.

"It was at this time that I met two sisters, only one of which was an earth pony. They were both born-bakers. But baking isn't what it once was. These sisters, they were smart. Witty. Beautiful. They kept their baking as a hobby but defied the call of their marks to do something else. This, in and of itself, is remarkable, as most ponies lack the willpower to follow through with such an act."

With this said, Argyle paused, licked his lips, and then just sat there for a short time, his eyes all aglow with warm emotion. He was practically a different pony; sentimental rather than theatrical. With a slow turn of his head, he looked at his daughter and spent a moment watching her as her head bobbed. Whatever equona that Argyle Ascot had to offer the world was now stripped away and his naked soul was on display.

"These sisters taught me something I desperately needed to know. Good ponies come from all trots of life. I didn't even realise I was in conflict with myself… but I was. I'd blinded myself to all the troubles to be found within. For a time, I struggled with my upbringing. I couldn't change who I was, or how I was born. What I could do was give the world the best possible version of myself. But before I did that, I offered myself to those two sisters, and by fortunate happenstance, after a bit of wooing, they accepted. They came as a pair, see… and refused to be parted.

"These are the events that took place and made me the pony that I am right now…"


The teacup, now empty, was replaced by a glass of sugary iced tea. Time was strange now, elastic and relative. Sundance was thoughtful, composed, and more than anything else, hopeful. Liberty Belle's highchair now stood empty, with the little filly put down for a nap. It was hard for Sundance to describe just how perfectly at ease he was, or his current state of contentedness.

"The series of events involving the asylum disturb me greatly," Argyle said, sighing out the words. "Though perhaps hasty, a quick study seems to reveal that the whole of the system that allowed that to happen was thoroughly populated by officials voted into office. They prospered while others suffered. Everything was set up in such a way as to allow coins to be skimmed and collected… some sort of milk metaphor seems apropos here, but I'll be damned if I can think of one."

To show that he listened, Sundance nodded.

"That our system is so broken is proof of Princess Celestia's benevolence."

"Fudgy, do be a dear and explain yourself," Argyle said to his wife.

"We have all these radical and not-so-radical earth pony groups," Fudge Turnover said. "Some of them are dangerous. Some are quite dangerous. Yet, none of them are disallowed. Even as dangerous as they are, they are allowed to gather amongst ourselves. Democracy is a central tenet of belief from our shared clan heritage. We've been allowed to keep that even though all evidence suggests that it is to our detriment." She inhaled, waited for but a moment, and looked her husband in the eye. "If Princess Celestia was really the tyrant so many believe her to be, don't you think she would have cleaned up this awful mess a long time ago?"

"Behold, Sundance… Fudgy here went to college and studied civil sciences." Gesturing at his wife, Argyle shook his head in mock-dismay. "This is what higher education does to the female mind. Dreadful condition, isn't it? Look upon her and be afraid."

"She's not wrong though." Cherry Turnover's interjection came with a side of smirk.

"And Cherry… student of political science. It's made her so opinionated on so many subjects. When ponies ask what she knows about the subject or situation, she'll explain it to them at length. Typically with a lot of big words. Though, for the slow-minded, she'll break it down into the most simple of terms."

"What you are trying to say," Cherry retorted, "is that I can be patronising, you great big windbag."

"Dreadful. Just dreadful. You wound me so. My mother tried to warn me about uncouth mares, but did I listen?"

"You had it coming," Cherry replied. "You wounded my sister."

"Yes… yes… that whole messy business with Liberty Belle. I am at fault."

Unable to stop himself, Sundance snickered.

"At last… somepony laughs at my misfortune. My humiliation nears completion." With a dismissive wave of his hoof, Argyle made a theatrical effort to shoo Sundance away. "Have mercy, I do declare. My vanity is reeling and is in need of time to recover."

"You have to look at the situation as a whole," Fudge said while her husband fumed. "Right now, the city of Fillydelphia is in a state of anarchy. This wasn't Princess Celestia's doing. We did this. Our decisions, our actions, and yes, our voting brought us here. Now, everything is in a state of emergency. We're still trying to vote. We're still throwing ballots at our problems… and getting nothing accomplished with our heated debates. As much as it pains me to say this, we need to suspend our electoral processes and find some way to restore order."

"Oh, Fudgy… goodness." This time, Argyle aimed his dismissive wave at his wife.

"I'm an earth pony," she said to him defiantly. "Same as you. But I recognise the obvious problem. Voting worked better when we were small clans scattered about the map. Each pony had a say and the clan made the decision as a whole. Our way was right, just, good, and true. Gathering in cities was our ruination. Once our numbers grew into hundreds, or even thousands, not everypony could have their say. The process grew too cumbersome. It took too long to get anything done.

"So we adapted by electing officials to represent us. And that's where we went wrong. The system grew too large, and we surrendered ourselves to the tyranny of the majority. Not to the tyranny of Princess Celestia as some might believe. Fillydelphia is now a city of millions and we have scant few representatives to carry out the will of our citizenry. The voices of but a few drown out the voices of millions. We consistently vote the worst sorts of ponies into office and we allow corporate interests to influence our votes. I can see no solution to this problem but to suspend our electoral processes until the mess is sorted out."

"Which is exactly what Princess Twilight will do if Argyle is voted out of office," Cherry Turnover said when her sister was finished.

With a quick, sudden turn of her head, Fudge Turnover focused her attention upon Sundance and said, "We convinced our husband to run for office. He has charisma and charm that voters love. My sister and I, we lack such things, but we have the brains. So we made our husband act as our face. Change is desperately needed. More so now than ever. You know this, Sundance. You grew up in the thick of it, just as we did. Without Argyle's money and affluence. Our view from down at the bottom is an asset."

"I suppose it is," Sundance replied.

"We're aware of the plan," Cherry said to Sundance, "because my sister and I spent a great many hours advising Twilight on what to do. But we had no idea that she would take us seriously. We thought she was doing the gracious princess bit where she listens and acts sympathetically to our plight. Sometimes, things go horribly wrong… but this time, things went horribly right. Now, Fillydelphia is burning. Our home was burnt to the ground. The city is under martial law. And—"

"Even worse, all the skeletons have come waltzing out of the closet," Cherry said, interrupting her sister. "That business with the asylum in Beantown was barely the tip of the iceberg. I suspect that everything that comes out because of that will be far worse than anything we could imagine. I mean, they greatly expanded the underground warrens in all directions beneath the asylum. Constructed an immense underground complex. How? How did this go unnoticed? Ponies were in on it."

Distracted, Argyle scowled and muttered in a soft whisper, "I cannot help but wonder if my own family is responsible for some of this damnable trouble that plagues the city. My mother told me no when I confronted her, but still… I wonder. So far, the stench of scandal hasn't yet reached me, but I do wonder if any in my family will be found out. If so… I will be crushed."

"That's a hard pill to swallow, Argy," Fudge Turnover said to her husband.

"I want to see her," Argyle said suddenly. "Sundance, you must let me see her."

"Sparrowhawk?" asked Sundance, somewhat confused.

"Yes. I must meet the filly that I have failed."

"Argyle… I don't think you failed her—"

"Sundance, please, with all due respect… allow me to explain why you are wrong. A lesson in effective leadership is needed." Clearing his throat, Argyle sat up a little straighter and composed himself. "No matter what happens while you are in charge, no matter how distant you might be from it, no matter what rational excuses you might make or how you might explain yourself, you are responsible for everything that happens. I am responsible for everything that happened in that dreadful, alicorn-forsaken asylum. Because, somepony has to be.

"I could make excuses. After all, I had nothing to do with it. I was ignorant of what took place. I could blame my political opponents or my predecessors. All that does is compound the immediate problem and make everything worse. So always take responsibility. Always. Always. You're the baron. I'm the mayor—and soon to be Regional Governor when the worst happens, and it will. Of this, I have no doubts. Those fools will vote me out of office to spite me and to spite Twilight, and everything will be made worse."

Unsure of how to respond, Sundance nodded.

"I would like to see her," Argyle said, insisting on the matter at hoof.

"Sure… if Corduroy allows it. And if Sparrow is feeling up to it. She's… well, I don't even know how to describe what is going on. The withdrawals are awful."

Across the table, Fudge Turnover gnawed upon her hoof.

"We have so much to do together, you and I," Argyle said to Sundance. "Twilight wants us to be friends, but beyond that, we are neighbors. Your territory stretches quite a ways eastward. In between here and Fillydelphia is a vast and hostile wilderness. Which is something we'll need to sort out if ponies are to move freely between our territories. What I want is a straight line of shared cooperation that reaches from Fillydelphia to Canterlot." He paused, thoughtful. "There is so much to sort out. But before we begin… I would like to meet Sparrowhawk. I wish to understand just how badly I have failed."

"Sure," Sundance replied. "We can go there now. If Corduroy allows it, you can say hello and spend a bit of time with her. But if Corduroy says no, that's final. Please respect that."

"I find your terms agreeable, Sundance, and I thank you for your kindness…"

Author's Note:
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