Continuity Disrupted

by Doug Graves

91 Boundless Realms, Part Two

Applebaum glances down at the business card in her hoof, then up at Withers. “Um, Ah don’t know.” She looks back to her sire; Doug is peering at the white stallion, his hand slowly stroking his chin. She turns back to Withers, “Were you eavesdropping on me in there?”

Withers casually shrugs, “I was merely waiting for a chance to get to talk to you. I know how dreadfully hard it is to go through these sorts of ordeals. I went through one. Two of my fillies had to go through one.” His gaze turns to Doug, then to where Doug is focusing. Withers sighs, looking back to his own cutie mark, a yellow and purple explosion with four asterisks flying away. “I imagine she won’t be the last one you have to go through the process either. Roberts.”

Applebaum’s eyes raise in confusion. What did Withers want to talk about? Who is Roberts? Why is Daddy going pale?

Doug clears his throat, slowly and deliberately setting his book to the side. His voice growls out of his mouth, “So that’s where I remember you from.”

The stallion merely smirks in reply. “I think it would be in both of your best interests if that never came up again, yes?” His eyes flick over to Applebaum, “I would hate for her to miss a golden opportunity like this because of a misunderstanding, yes?”

Doug’s knuckles turn white as his eyes bore into Withers. “Misunderstanding.”

Withers chuckles, though an edge remains in his voice. “A monstrous bee creature and a fugitive zebra out on the far side of the Everfree Forest? Who just happens to be in league with the esteemed Daring Do?” Withers drops his shades to stare into Doug’s eyes. “Forgive our assumption that you weren’t a resident here in Ponyville, much less Equestria.” He shakes his head back and forth, though his eyes never leave Doug. “Our entire business revolves around figuring out mysteries, and the enigmatic creature that sailed down a river, off into the sunset? Did you ever wonder why nopony ever followed up after you? You’re not exactly inconspicuous, Doug.”

“Daddy?” Applebaum quietly says, her voice quivering. “What’s he talking about?”

Doug smiles, a hand coming up to rub Applebaum’s mane. “Nothing that you need to worry about, dear.” He turns back to Withers, a steady stare. “So.”

Withers shrugs. “I’m offering your filly a choice. But before I get into all that and the entrails, let me tell you a little story about myself.” He backs up slightly, relaxing and focusing on Applebaum. “I was just a young colt when I got my cutie mark, just like you. I was playing in the schoolyard, I was, and there was this big, mean filly. Face set like a lump of stone, like her dam was foalin’ around with a chisel and couldn’t decide when to stop.”

Applebaum gulps, her mind picturing some of the older colts who tease her in that position, and sadly doing a remarkably good job.

“So she goes up to this other filly, pretty little thing I kinda liked but never had the heart to tell her. And she starts bickering with her. Started out friendly like, you know how fillies can be, but quickly turns sour, like a bunch of grapes just outta reach. ‘Fore I know it, the big one pushes the cute one right over into the mud. She starts crying, and I didn’t realize it at the time, but I had been creeping closer. And, soon as she did that, I popped her one.” Withers taps his jaw right at the base. “Got her good, heard the crack and everything. But she came back at me like a wounded wolverine.” Withers smiles fondly as he stares off into the distance, hoof tapping a couple other places on his head and barrel.

“Then what happened?” Applebaum asks, enraptured.

Withers smirks, “Well, we went back and forth, but I was just as scrawny then as I am now. I could hold my own, just tired out quicker, so she won that round. Ended it with a kiss, right here.” He pulls the shades away and taps just under his left eye. “But what I really got out of that fight was this.” He motions backwards towards his cutie mark. “Next time we went at it, I knew just where to strike. Why I like to say I won both fights.” He winks at Applebaum as the shades go back up, “And just like that, we were the best of friends. Second mare, as soon as we were old enough.”

“Who was your lead?” Applebaum asks, a slightly mischievous grin on her muzzle.

“Filly I was protecting, of course.” Withers looks over at Doug, then turns back to Applebaum. “My youngest with her is about her age, I’d say. Could probably even swing things so you go to classes together at the same school. Let you work during your free time, if you were interested. But, anyway, I told you that story to tell you that the teachers, they did not care for it at all. Said no reputable colt should get a cutie mark in brawling.”

“What about the Royal Guard?” Applebaum interjects, resting back on her hooves. “Ah would think they’d take a pony like, um, with your talent.”

Withers shrugs helplessly, “Only stallions that go into the guard are unicorns and pegasi, and for good reason. Plus, I don’t exactly have the ‘build’ to go in even if I wanted to.” He puffs his chest out, barely making it to even the average Ponyville stallion, much less the bulky guards like Shining Armor. “If I was a mare, sure, they’d find some stockroom in the back and make me quartermaster. But I would have just hated that.”

“That’s so sad,” Applebaum says, sinking down. “You think Ah’d make a good stockroom-mare?”

Withers snorts. “Yeah, they’ll put you in charge of their ordinance. They’ll only need to restock every other month. Nah, kid, you don’t want that.” Withers shakes his head several times. “So, I took that same test you did. They found I was good at telling how much somepony was hurt, and how to hurt them. And you know what they tried to get me to be? Trauma surgeon.” Doug’s head snaps back an inch in surprise. “Well, that or drill instructor, roughing up new recruits. Maybe I should have tried that.” Withers smiles at the thought, “But. Spent a couple of years working in Canterlot General, too, see if I could hoof it.”

Doug hums to himself for a moment before asking, “Why’d you quit that? Seems like a needed job, good prestige, I’m guessing good pay.”

Withers nods along at first, “Sure. All that. But it wasn’t fulfilling, not like I hoped. And I realized something funny.” He holds a hoof up, staring at the thick horseshoe on the end. “I figured out that, just like I could hurt someone, I could heal them. And then I started to do both.” He shakes his head, “Never could get past the idea that some of those thugs I was operating on deserved what they got. Got caught ‘reminding’ a mare to treat her stallion right, and the second time, well, there wasn’t going to be a third incident with me.”

“I’m failing to see how this relates to Applebaum,” Doug interjects.

“Cautionary tale, if nothing else.” Withers looks down at Applebaum, not condescendingly, just from standing up straight. “You don’t want to live your life working at odds with yourself. If you think that you’d just hate being a building inspector, or stockroomer, or whatever else, trust your gut. Trust your cutie mark.”

“But what if her cutie mark is telling her to do things that she shouldn’t be doing?” Doug asks, folding his arms across his chest.

“Ain’t a good answer to that, ‘cept that I haven’t heard of one of those.” A second business card appears in Withers’ hoof. He glances back at the schoolhouse. “I mean, if she wants to be a building inspector, then I can walk away from here and nothing happens. Otherwise?” His muzzle dips down, a pen appearing from inside his suit. He scribbles something on the card, the pen disappearing back again. He drops the card to the ground, walking away.

Doug stares at the card for a few seconds. He flinches back as Applebaum darts forward, grabbing the card and flipping it over. “Applebaum,” Doug says cautiously, his breath slightly catching in his throat. “Are you sure about this?”

“Ah’m plain sure Ah ain’t gonna be a building inspector.” Applebaum frowns as she reads the writing. “All it says is ‘Sugarcube’.” Her breath slowly lets out before she looks up at Doug. “What’s wrong?”

Doug lets out a long breath, his eyes traveling to the stallion still casually walking away. He gathers his things, getting up to head back to Sweet Apple Acres. “I just don’t want you getting mixed up in anything too dangerous. Besides, what would Applejack say?”

Applebaum says, full of confidence as she follows her sire, “She’d probably tell me to follow my heart.”

Minutes later, in the southern orchard.

“Absolutely not!” bellows Applejack. “You are not followin' your heart, or your cutie mark! You’re too young! Besides, you ain’t even close to done with your schoolin’!”

“But that’ll take years!” Applebaum argues back, her young voice raising. “And he said Ah’d still be taking classes. Ah’d just be working with them afterwards. Like an internship.”

“Mah answer is still no.” Applejack angrily huffs before she glares down at Applebaum, “Besides, why would you want to go to school out in Canterlot, with all those snobby rich ponies?”

“Withers didn’t seem like a snobby rich pony to me,” Applebaum retorts. “Ah mean, he was wearing a suit, but he didn’t use a lot of fancy works like them hoity-toity rich ponies do.”

Applejack grits her teeth, forcing herself to stay calm. “He had a suit? Business cards? What would else would he have needed to convince you? A giant lump of gold for a cutie mark?”

“Pretty sure that’s his boss,” Doug says as an aside, though both ponies turn to glare at him.

“Mah point exactly.” Applejack sighs as she lowers her voice, turning back to her filly. “Applebaum, dear, did Ah ever tell you about the time Ah went to Manehatten?”

Applebaum nods. “You spent some time with Aunt and Uncle Orange. And learned to be all sophistimicated.”

Applejack solemnly nods, “That’s right. Ah was trying to find my place in the world. And Ah thought that Ah might find it out in the big city, with all them fancy lights and stores and accents. But none of that clicked for me. It wasn’t until Ah came back home that Ah discovered that being back home with family on the farm - that was my calling.”

“But, Applejack,” Applebaum says, motioning to her own flank, “That was how you got your cutie mark. Mine is telling me something else. It’s telling me that Ah don’t want to build barns, or look at crummy old buildings that aren’t falling apart just yet. Ah want to make my mark on the world. But Ah’m afraid that that mark won’t be a building standing tall and proud. It’ll be a building that ain’t standing, and Ah sure don’t want that building to be one of ours.”

Applejack sighs. She turns, dropping down to look Applebaum in the eyes. A hoof comes up, gently resting on Applebaum’s withers. “Please, Applebaum. Ah know you’re technically an adult, and Ah can’t force you to stay here, no more’n Ah can tie you to a post for the rest of your life. But please, sleep on this, okay? Don’t do anything rash.”

Applebaum sighs. “Ah’ll try.”

Applejack smiles as she gets up, “Alright, then. Now, let’s get us some dinner, then. It’s been a long day.”

Dinner is a quiet affair, an uncommon occurrence with the multitude of fillies and mares. Trixie seems to be the only pony avidly interested in Applebaum’s plight. Doug merely seems resigned to whichever decision Applebaum makes, while Applejack is confident her middle filly will stay.

Applebaum lays in bed, staring up at the ceiling. Withers had been frustratingly short on specifics, on what sort of job she would be applying for, or training for, or doing. But that unknown just makes it even more tantalizing. That somewhere, out there, is a job that is perfect for her. Where she can blow up things to her heart’s content, like the final scene of Transformares III, and everypony will cheer her on instead of calling the Royal Guard, and Princess Celestia. And afterwards, worst of all, she’d have to explain things to Applejack.

With that image in mind, Applebaum gets up. She goes to the window, the wood creaking as she pushes. She looks down; the ground just a short hop away.

A faint line of light comes into the room as the door behind her opens. Applebaum drops down, trying to fake that she wasn’t just about to jump through the clearly open window. She lets out her breath as an azure unicorn walks up through the dimly lit shadows, staring at the fields of apple trees.

“So,” Trixie says after a few seconds, still staring out the window.

“You aren’t going to stop me.” Applebaum can’t decide if it is more of a statement or a question.

“Nope.” Trixie glances around the room, frowning as she continues searching. “Trixie made the same choice, too. Turned out… well, maybe there was a better one, but I didn’t see it.” She turns around to look at Applebaum, “And look where the Great and Powerful Trixie! ended up.” She shrugs. “Maybe it’ll turn out the same for you.”

“Yeah,” Applebaum says with a bit of trepidation. “Ah hope so, too.”

“I would leave a note,” Trixie says with a yawn. “It’ll make your dam feel better.” She briefly nods her head, her lips smacking together. “Stay safe.”

“Ah’ll try,” Applebaum says, grabbing a piece of paper and a pencil, scribbling out a hasty message that she leaves on the kitchen table.

Sitting in Sugarcube Corner, Withers nurses his formerly hot chocolate. A slightly dour Pinkie Pie skates over to top him off. “She ain’t coming, toots. And this is your last call.”

“She’ll be here,” Withers replies coldly. He takes another sip of the now mostly warm chocolate, that amazing spot between too hot to drink quickly and too cold to want to. Moments later the bell jingles, Applebaum walking into the store. Withers finishes off his hot chocolate with one long drag, grinning as he wipes his muzzle with a napkin. He drops a couple extra bits onto the table as he gets up. “Last train is in fifteen minutes. We should hurry.”

“Yeah, sure,” Applebaum says, waving goodbye to Pinkie Pie, hopefully not for the last time. She asks as she exits Sugarcube, “So, what kind of job do you think Ah’ll get?”

“Well, I don’t know if demomare is the right word, because there’s so much more to it than that,” Withers easily replies, a twinkle shining in Applebaum’s eye as they trot along.

The next morning, Applejack wakes up, tears still wetting her eyes. She can still feel the draft from Applebaum’s room. She doesn’t want to get up and confirm it. Maybe Lemon opened the window. Or left it open, just so she’d know. Applejack gets up anyway, her eyes instantly spotting the piece of paper.

‘I have to do this. I’m sorry, dam, that I couldn’t say goodbye. I’ll be sure to write every week.

-Applebaum

Applejack’s eyes well up again as a hand comes to her ears, turning to bury her head in Doug’s chest.

Comments

[badninja]

Ouch. Poor Applejack.

[AnormalUnicornPony]

Well looks like Mr.Withers definitely figured out how to hurt them at least.

[DarkPhoenixx]

*starts crying rivers of tears that shoot out in arcs from the sides of my eyes* Poor AJ. I hope Applebaum does ok at least. Good luck Applebaum.

[Silentwoodfire]

I am a tad displeased in his methodology regarding Doug and Zecora.

[chibilink]

What would else would he have needed to convince you?

God speed Applebaum

[Jack-Pony]

Damn it, Trixie. You couldn't have even tried to talk her out of it? At least warn her of the path she was going down? I get it that there are some people that have to march to the beat of their own drum, but...fuck. I worry AJ will never be the same after this.

[Poparakelis]

A bunch of forced, unnecessary drama

[MurderP0n7]

Didn’t I understand, the guy who took Baum was a good guy like Celestia’s agents or a bad guy like regular (or bigger) villains?

Besides, I have a feeling that if Baum ends up on the side of the bad guys, he’ll probably end up planning how to exploit Canterlot’s seeds... Literally "The City That Fell In A Day," and no one can argue that "magic will prevent it" "surely has enchantments" or "Princesses will not let that happen", if I manage to plant the explosives necessary for it then either the princesses were too busy being princesses to notice it or someone else was distracting them, and if anything showed me Twinglis Spunkler (purple threat) is that if a pony follows 100% the meaning of his butt tattoo, he would achieve amazing things... Or in this case Horrific things (little more and I say that makes the 9/11 equestrian version, and everyone knows that that was horrible)

[Doug Graves]

11819001
The stallion 'Baum went with works for Dr. Caballeron, who is an antagonist/competitor to Daring Do but not Celestia (he often works for her in some capacity).

[Gora]

F**k this I am out, you could have killed the Protagonist at the start of this book, nothing would change, the Protagonist is less than a doormat, what the hell, did he just let his daughter, go work with a bunch of weirdos that just told him that they were stalking his Family? God, I am out, I have no idea how I was capable of reading this till now.