Friendship in Politics

by Shockburst

Spring and Gait

Faraway from Baltimare, in a little town known only as Gaitsville near the Great Gorges, a rather tired-looking pony woke up, despite her rest. She had a yellow coat with red curly hair and a notebook for a cutie mark. She groaned as she sat up, and scratched her back. Just two hours ago, she had written a report for the Spring and Gait newspaper and she was rather tired.

There was something that starkly contrasted her from the rest of the ponyfolk, not just in Gaitsville, but Equestria itself. A normal pony's house consisted of decorations everywhere that served as reminder and an identifier to the denizens of the house, sort of like an I.D. card inside the house. It all had to do with pride and the want to be an individual and all that rubbish. At least that's what the mare thought. And her house showed it. Not a single part of the bare wood or ceramic walls showed any pictures, souvenirs, or anything of the like. And she liked it that way. It didn't really suit her well to have her identity plastered everywhere on the wall as a pretense of her being different or unique. She had a rather negative view on society and individualism, which explained the lack of a permanent name.

The Blank Mare, as we will call her and as all the other ponyfolk call her, was originally named Red Curl, after her curly red mane, until she shed the name aside "like a snake's skin." She felt that names and the usage of them meant that a pony was accepted into society. Well that killed her, metaphorically speaking. She didn't want anything to do with society and the other ponies. The Mare felt that the other ponies were vulgar, rude, and unappreciative of others. The very idea of names was a paradox, a societal hypocrisy, ironic considering how it was supposed to be interpreted as acceptance when some other ponies refused to accept others at all.

Yet, despite her rather radical and cynical views, she was a rather normal pony at a glance. She didn't stay at home perpetually or fear other ponyfolk like the Spotty Plague. She wandered and ambled and conversed and laughed with them like any other pony. She just liked to remain nameless, like some of the monks in Roana.

Surprisingly, her beliefs and social habits weren't the result of some arbitrary enlightenment or something of the sort. The Blank Mare had a rather interesting career. She not only was a reporter and writer for the Spring and Gait, she also acted as the investigative journalist for it. While the idea of a investigative journalist for a local newspaper like the Spring and Gait seems laughable, it wasn't funny once you meet her. The Blank Mare had a knack for making some seemingly pretentious accusations and claims of faraway influential ponies, resulting in everypony laughing at her, only to realize later that she was right. Now, nopony laughs at her. Whenever the new edition of Un-blinding comes out, only the whispers and exclamations of ponies can be heard, wondering how the Blank Mare could have gotten it right again.

Such a dangerous career does have its drawbacks. And by drawbacks, they usually mean threats, letter pranks, and more. Yet it does have its fair share of good and fun as well. It was extremely amusing to watch the accused ponies bluster and splutter as they attempt to deny their charges, unsuccessfully as well. And it forced others to reform as well. Already, well-known ponies were renouncing their "past" ways and accepting more ethical grounds in their work. At least, that's what they said, but those ponies probably changed their ways anyway. Not out of guilty conscience, but out of the looming threat of the Blank Mare's quill. So far, she had brought down some very important people like Hoity Toity, for erecting an illegal monopoly over fashion products all over Equestria, several Fillydelphia officials, on the grounds of accepting bribes in exchange for tabling legislation that would harm the bribers, and the mayor of Stalliongrad, for the cruel and unusual punishment of a group of ponies engaged in a simple brawl. And now, she had:

"Baltimare City Council Speaker Baner?" asked Mist, a longtime "friend" of the Blank Mare's, as she and the Blank Mare walked down Main Street. Mist was reading the Mare's draft of the report that she was about to send to the Spring and Gait. The Blank Mare was looking straight on, thinking deeply. She had a rather dark cloak that was covering most of her body.

"That's right. I think I got him. Normally, I stay away from politics, except for those Fillydelphia guys, but this was just too good for me to pass up," said the Mare as they walked down the street.

"I don't know," said Mist as they walked. She flipped through the draft, scanning the long sentences filled with the burning passion of accusation. The Blank Mare had a flair for writing passionate articles. "This just seems a little, you know, tame compared to what you usually write."

"True. You seem to like it though," said the Mare.

"Well, I do, but the thing is is that it's pretty boring. I mean, most ponies would like to hear some real news, like that Wonderbolt report you just sent in. You did send it in right?"

"Of course. And what's not to like about it? It seems fine to me."

Mist pursed her lips and kept reading. They reached the end of Main Street and turned left down the market.

"I mean, it just seems like something not worth writing about. So what if Speaker Baner said he wouldn't support compromise? That sounds like something all politicians would say," said Mist.

"That's the thing," explained the Mare. "Baner's supposed to be the Great Compromisor or something like that. This is definitely not like what somepony like him would say. He was the one that got all the ponies in the Council to work together and built the city's reputation around that. Now he's saying the opposite: that no other solution can be pursued. Can't you see that would be great news?"

"I don't know," said Mist. "Your reputation is based around the gossip that comes around. Stuff like the Wonderbolts. Something political and dry as this is just not what the public want."

"Well, you see, I'm not so much as doing this for my readers as I am doing it for Baltimare."

"What do you mean?"

The Blank Mare stopped suddenly. Mist almost stumbled stopping.

"You know the state Baltimare is in right?" asked the Mare.

Mist solemnly nodded. Everypony had heard the news about Baltimare's declining condition. Even Canterlot had heard of it. Princess Celestia had met with the mayor multiple times to discuss the state of the economy in the city.

"Good. Then you'll see why something like this is necessary."

"I don't see how something like this would help them them though," said Mist as they started walking again.

"Well, it could force Baner to start working to compromise, like he should. Hopefully that'll give Baltimare the policies they need to get better."

"I don't understand. You turned from a normal column news author to this political crusader who helps the ponyfolk rise up."

"That's the point," said the Mare. "I started this entire thing to make sure that ponies got the right news and make them see that those high and lofty ponies are not all good. Quite the opposite in fact. I'm actually disappointed to see all these ponies interpret my work as some sort of gossip column they check every Wednesday to hear the latest news on who did what last week."

The two mares didn't say anything else as they walked down the rest of the marketplace. They closed in on the headquarters for Spring and Gait.

"Well, I'm sorry that you don't like the article. But I'm sure my readers in Baltimare will. I have to go to work now," said the Mare.

"Oh, it's not that I don't like it. It's just, well... it's targeted for ponies who like politics and government and stuff like that. It's not appealing," said Mist.

"I'm not trying to make it appealing. I'm trying to be an honest journalist who tells things like they are. Like they are supposed to be," said the Mare as she walked up the stairs.

The Blank Mare walked through the door and down the lobby, up the stairs, and to her office. Right as she was about to open the door, a hoof roughly shoved it aside.

"Excuse me," said the Mare indignantly as she looked up and at the pony who just shoved her hoof aside, who was a pegasus mare. The pegasus glared at her.

"Listen to me, and listen good, curly," said the pegasus. The Mare raised her eyebrows.

"I know you now and I know where you work, so you better change your mind on some of the things you write, or I will make you change them myself," threatened the pegasus angrily.

The Mare smiled and laughed derisively. "You and what army? You think you can stop the force of truth?"

The pegasus grimaced. "You think you're so high and mighty. But I bet you're like those ponies you write about. Corrupted and weak."

The Blank Mare glared back at the pegasus and said, "And if I were as weak as those losers, do you think I would stand up to you like this? I think I got a pretty good idea what kind of a pony you are. Or rather, what you will never amount to be. You're just some blind, sycophantic, overly fanatic Wonderbolts fan who loves whatever they say or do and just laps it up like a dog laps up water. You just love them so much that you decided to pay me a lovely warm visit to make me reconsider what we already know is the truth. You think you can scare me and make me delete the entire article? Think again, sister. I already had dozens of callers so far who've done way better than and you and you're pathetic little attempts to threaten me. At least they can string a somewhat eloquent argument against me instead of your ridiculous attempts to scare me using your supposed physical prowess that comes as a flyer apparently. And judging by your presence here, it seems like you are familiar with my writing. Well, you should know by now that I won't back down no matter what happens. You think my writing doesn't get heat? It gets so much heat that it'll burn you up into a crisp. Actually, maybe not, because your blinded passion for your little air ponies and your misguided anger and frustration must have already gotten you used to heat by now."

These words obviously hit home within the pegasus. She backed down, shocked. The Mare, however, was just getting started.

"You really think you can stop the truth? You're mistaken. You've heard about how fast a lie travels, right? How it can travel around the world before the truth can get it's boots on? Well, the lie can travel as far and as fast as it can want. But the truth is a different case. Once the truth gets its boots on, there's no stopping it. It can cut a swath into the most corrupted territories and expel even the most darkest clouds. It can bring upon mass enlightenment and destroy the most ingrained and fiery passions. It can do anything once it's out. And that's my job. To make sure that all you blind readers out there can see what the world is like. And I don't use the word "blind" to disparage. It's not your fault that you can't see. You all have been blinded since you were born. But it's my job to help guide the truth to your eyes and make them see again. So begging your pardon, miss, but I need to get on with my work. I have another article to publish and it thankfully has nothing to do with your flying pals who churn out smoke like a train engine. So step aside, or I will have to call security to remove you for wasting 5 minutes of my time and for entering premises without any substantial purpose other than to prove yourself a complete, utter, and abject idiot."

The whole building was silent by the time the Blank Mare was done. Despite the fact that this type of occurrence happened every month or so, it was always nice to hear what the Mare had to say. And the ponies inside weren't disappointed. The pegasus meanwhile was crushed. She sucked her breath in shakily and flew out in a dash. The guard opened the door as she flew out and noticed that her face was screwed up in pain, as though she was about to cry. Meanwhile, the Blank Mare opened her office door and sat down in her seat. Suddenly, the editor walked in.

"Um, Blank? You said you have another article?"

The Mare tossed her draft on the table. She looked up with a neutral face.

"Run it. And I don't care what you think. This is for the good of the city of Baltimare."

"Right, Blank. Catch you later," said the editor. He rushed out and down to the printing press.

The Blank Mare eased back in her chair. Despite the fact that she was supposed to be an employee, despite that fact that the editor was supposed to be her boss, despite the fact that she officially had no name and nopony could ever figure it out, it was not hard to see that she ran the show around the press.