Chapter 15: Manehattan
Clean Slate
By Alaborn
Standard disclaimer: This is a not for profit fan work. My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic is copyright Hasbro, Inc. I make no claim to any copyrighted material mentioned herein.
Chapter 15: Manehattan
On the benches sat ponies. Many sipped from paper cups of tea. Some were looking for respite from the cold air, while others were looking for something to help them wake up. Most looked like they needed both.
And all looked perturbed at the three energetic fillies who were immune to both the cold and the early hour.
Apple Bloom, Sweetie Belle, and Scootaloo ran around the platform, releasing energy in a way they wouldn’t be able to while riding the train. I was excited as well, though not to the point of running around. I was happy to experience my first new memory outside Ponyville. They were happy to see their good friend.
I hoped Babs Seed would be as forgiving as the Cutie Mark Crusaders had been.
Applejack kept a careful eye on us, making sure we didn’t cross that line between rambunctious and annoying. As long as we didn’t get too close to somepony, she was content to let fillies be fillies.
Steam poured from the locomotive as the engine was stoked. The doors to the train opened, and the conductor called “All aboard! All aboard for Canterlot, Fillydelphia, and Manehattan.”
We rushed aboard, leaving Applejack to make sure our luggage got loaded. We staked out one of the berths, with padded benches facing each other and a table in between. The benches were long enough for two ponies or three foals to sit. That would be perfect for the five of us.
Apple Bloom lifted our carry-on bags into the compartment above our seats, effortlessly balancing each bag on her head before rearing and depositing it onto the racks. By the time she finished, Applejack had joined us.
“You ready for the long trip?” Applejack asked. She dropped a thick book on the seat next to her.
“As ready as I can be,” Apple Bloom said.
We settled in. Applejack made sure our tickets were in order, and once the conductor came by and took them, she opened her book.
“I can’t remember if I ever saw you read anything that large,” I said.
Applejack shrugged. “Don’t get much of a chance to read,” she replied. “Too much to do at home, and during the evening, when I’m not working on something for the farm, I still prefer to be doing something with my hooves. But it doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy a good book. And I’m pretty good friends with the local librarian.”
“So what did you check out?” I asked.
“Twilight recommended a couple of books. This one’s a history book, about how the spread of agriculture influenced the development of cultures across Equestria. It’s supposed to be written for the casual reader, not one of those stuffy academic tomes with two pages of footnotes for each page of text,” Applejack said. “She also gave me one of those Daring Do books for some lighter reading. She says one of the side characters reminded her of me. Figured I’d see what the fuss was about.”
The engine picked up steam, and soon we were rolling out of Ponyville. Watching Ponyville recede into the distance and the wilderness pass by kept our attention for a few minutes. But boredom returned with a vengeance. Unlike days spent in the clubhouse wondering what to do, we wouldn’t be able to leave the train for eight hours.
“Hey, I brought that board game I got for Hearth’s Warming. We could play it,” Scootaloo suggested.
Without any better ideas, Scootaloo retrieved the game and set it up. I was expecting a simple foal’s game, the kind I’d have known about even if I hadn’t played it. Instead, she set up an unfamiliar board of hexagonal tiles, and set out a variety of playing pieces. She gave us a disjointed accounting of the rules. After a ton of questions, it became clearer. Pieces on the board allowed you to collect resources from the tiles, and the resources allowed the purchase and placing of more pieces on the board. There was also a trading element to the game, so it wasn’t pure luck.
The part of the game that attracted the most attention was the dice. Normally games have spinners, being easier to manipulate by hoof, but this game had two six-sided dice that were enclosed in a clear bubble. Press down on it and release, and the metal base rebounded, bouncing the two dice around. We spent so much time playing with the dice roller that Scootaloo had to remind us there was a game included with the dice.
Using two dice instead of a spinner made some spaces of the game board more valuable than the others, as their numbers would be rolled more often. The others picked up on this fact as well, so my two starting settlements weren’t any better than average.
I started the game by collecting resources. I knew where I wanted to play my next village token, but I wasn’t getting what I needed at first. But then again, neither did anypony else. When I rolled a 5, getting a wood token and a grain token, I made my move.
“Does anypony have a clay token?” I asked innocently.
Two sets of hooves moved to their cardboard shields, protecting their valuable clay. I focused on Sweetie Belle, who looked more receptive. “How about you, Sweetie Belle?”
“I don’t think I’m going to trade right now,” she replied.
“Even for a wood?” No response. “How about a wood and an ore?”
“Deal!” Sweetie Belle replied.
That left me with eight tokens, but just the eight tokens I needed. I sent the tokens to the bank. “Road, road, village!” I announced, stealing Scootaloo’s next planned building spot.
“Hey!” she protested.
I slid the dice popper to her. “Your turn,” I said.
I did end up winning that game, but after that, everypony was leery about trading with me. I didn’t win the next three games we played before finally putting the game away. At least these games ate up about half the trip.
After lunch, we settled into random things to pass the time. Silly games like I Spy, talking about school and happenings in town, and reading passed some time. Then, Apple Bloom asked the question I dreaded being asked.
“So, how did your visit with Silver Spoon go?”
Apple Bloom’s question could have been interpreted as confrontational. I think she realized that, and clarified matters. “Did you remember anything?”
The answer to the second question was easy. As for the first, I was conflicted. On my walk home that night, I had a lot to think about. I don’t think Silver Spoon would ever accept the friendship of the Cutie Mark Crusaders. She had some attitudes that I didn’t understand in my current mental state, and that I fear I had accepted in the past. I think she was influenced by the opinion of others, and I fear how I contributed to that. However, there were a lot of good feelings from our meeting. I chose to focus on those.
“No, I didn’t remember anything. And that’s too bad, as I think we had a lot of good memories. She’s promised to keep in touch, and help me in any way possible,” I said.
I received stares from the other Crusaders. “Look, it’s not like she has a photo album of all the times we called you blank flanks!” I said defensively. While true, I don’t think I’d invite her over for dinner.
“I don’t think you should begrudge Diamond Tiara keeping in touch with her old friend,” Applejack commented, without looking up from her book.
That quieted Apple Bloom. Finally, the silence was broken by Sweetie Belle.
“I spy with my little eye something that begins with the letter B.”
Finally, the train arrived in Manehattan’s Grand Central Station. Applejack called us close to her as we navigated through the throng of ponies. I think there were more ponies in just this one station than gathered for the average Ponyville celebration!
Once outside, I got a good look at the big city. Where Ponyville seemed to grow organically around its central district, any such structure in Manehattan had long since been replaced. Tall buildings towered between streets laid out in a grid fashion. The smell of the ocean lingered faintly in the air. The city’s population was predominantly earth pony, with pegasi in a distinct minority.
We walked perhaps a mile before Applejack motioned us into one of the buildings. The large lobby was familiar. It wasn’t that I recognized it, but aspects of the design were similar to Silver Spoon’s mansion. The open space, the staircase, and the chandeliers were all familiar.
“Why aren’t we staying with Aunt and Uncle Orange?” Apple Bloom asked.
“Their apartment is nice, but it’s not that big. It’d be a mite uncomfortable for us all to squeeze in there,” Applejack explained.
I’m sure Applejack mentioned the hotel to both of us, but it’s easy to miss those details when you’re excited about a trip. “Isn’t this place expensive?” I asked.
“Aunt Orange insisted we stay here, her treat,” Applejack replied. “Says it’s the least she could do for family.”
Soon, we had our keys, and headed to our hotel room. After seeing the lobby, I found the room a little disappointing. It was a suite with two bedrooms, two bathrooms, and a small kitchen and living area. It was comfortable, and probably larger than the second floor of our house, but overall, it was surprisingly utilitarian. Everything looked nice, but nothing on par with the style of the lobby.
“Now get cleaned up, everypony,” Applejack ordered. “We’ve got dinner and visiting with the Oranges tonight. It’s casual, so save your dresses for the big party tomorrow.”
That was easy enough.
Our destination for this evening was a tall apartment building, built of white stone. Various decorative flourishes, fluted columns and the like, set the building apart from the typical building outside Ponyville’s core. A uniformed pony operated the mechanical lift that took us to the tenth floor.
Walking down the hallway, I noticed that each door held one or two pictures, obviously cutie marks. For a moment, I wondered why those were used, rather than names. Back in Ponyville, where a good number of ponies lived in their own shops, it makes more sense; the flower identifies both the owner of the shop and what the shop sells. Perhaps it’s a tradition that sticks even in the big city.
The orange on the door indicated we had reached our final destination. Applejack rapped on the door with her hoof. Shortly thereafter, a well-groomed older earth pony stallion with a light orange coat and green mane answered the door. “Little Jackie! So good to see you!” he said warmly.
Applejack looked a bit uncomfortable at hearing his nickname for her. I don’t recall anypony using it back in Ponyville. “It’s good to see you, Uncle Orange. But since I’m not trying to fit in with the ponies of Manehattan, I’m just good old Applejack.”
“Of course, dear. But you can’t expect me to forget that time when you were our little Jackie?” he continued, smiling.
Uncle Orange stepped aside, ushering us into his apartment. I examined the furnishings and decorations. The items were new, and their quality was superb. I assumed they were purchased from ponies with those talents, unlike the furniture back at the farm. It showed they had the wealth to buy nice things, but their display wasn’t as ostentatious as I saw in Silver Spoon’s mansion.
An earth pony mare, of around the same age as Uncle Orange, soon entered the room. She was a light yellow color, with just a hint of orange, and her orange mane was elegantly styled. “Applejack, so good to see you again!” she said.
“Thanks, Aunt Orange. It sure has been awhile. Missed you at the last Apple family reunion!” Applejack said.
Aunt Orange frowned slightly. “I do apologize that business keeps us from traveling as much as we’d like. Now, I do believe introductions are in order?”
“Of course,” Applejack said, nodding. She motioned to the two older ponies. “Girls, my aunt, Valencia Orange, and my uncle, Mosely Orange.” She then motioned to us in turn. “I’m sure you remember Apple Bloom. This is Diamond Tiara, the newest member of our family, and their friends, Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle.”
“Nice to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Orange,” we said in unison.
“Now, I’m sure you’re looking for something to eat that’s better than cold sandwiches from the train’s dining car,” Aunt Orange said. We all nodded. “So let’s head to the dining room.”
There was a definite energy among us fillies. Just a little bit of nervous energy, a desire to get up and do something after being on a train for so long. But the prospect of food got us to sit quietly.
Two servants brought out the first course, a salad of mixed greens with almonds and orange segments. I listened as Applejack and the Oranges discussed the goings-on in their respective sides of the families. I think I recognized some names, but they were ponies I had only seen in pictures.
The main course was stir-fried vegetables and mushrooms in an orange sweet and sour glaze. Like the salad, it was very tasty, and really highlighted oranges. There was a brief pause in the conversation, which I took advantage of.
“Thank you for the mulling spices,” I said.
Aunt Orange smiled. “You’re very welcome, dear.”
“Do you actually grow any oranges here?” I asked.
“We do maintain a greenhouse just outside of town,” Uncle Orange said.
“It is important to remember our roots,” Aunt Orange added.
“But most of our oranges are grown in our groves near Mihaymi, far to the south,” said Uncle Orange.
“Down there, the pegasi don’t bring the kind of cold weather that orange trees can’t tolerate,” Aunt Orange said.
“It makes me wonder why you stick around here in the winter,” Applejack said. “Heck, makes me wonder why we didn’t go someplace warmer.”
“And why are you so far away from your oranges?” I added.
“Manehattan may be cold and crowded, but it’s cosmopolitan and the business capital of Equestria,” Uncle Orange said enthusiastically. “If you wanted to run a national business, you needed to be in Manehattan.” He paused thoughtfully. “Guess that’s not as much true nowadays.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Well, you’ve got the railroads now, so shipping doesn’t require the rivers and ports. And the telegraph is about as fast as dragonfire for communication, and accessible to anypony.” He took a sip of orange juice. “But enough of that. I still love Manehattan, and I think you would have loved it, too, Applejack.”
“Aw, shucks. But my heart remained at Sweet Apple Acres, even when I was a stubborn filly,” Applejack said. I noticed the other Crusaders nodding; this was a story they must have heard before.
I didn’t even notice as the dinner plates were cleared, to be replaced by a bowl with our dessert. In a creamy sauce, I saw a delicious blend of orange, coconut, marshmallow... and pineapple!
“What is this?” Sweetie Belle asked, preempting my own question.
“We call it ambrosia,” Uncle Orange said, “a heavenly dessert.” Judging by everypony’s reaction, they agreed with that assessment.
Following dessert, we sat at the table, rubbing our bellies in a satisfied manner.
“Now, it’s time for photos!” Aunt Orange said.
Every filly at the table groaned.
“So, how did you like the Oranges?” Applejack asked me after we returned to the hotel room.
“They seem nice. Down to earth,” I said.
“Well, they don’t work the land anymore, but you can still see their tie to it,” Applejack said. Now that she mentioned it, they did seem a lot more like the Apples than the Silvers. Their apartment was certainly nice, but I didn’t get that ostentatious feeling I got from the Silver mansion. They also seemed warmer than the older Silvers.
“But don’t get too comfortable, partner,” Applejack said. “We’re going to one of their fancy-schmancy parties tomorrow, to celebrate the New Year.”
I thought about my friends, especially Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo. “Well, this should be interesting,” I said.
The next day was spent like any other tourist. We climbed to the top of the Statue of Harmony, had a delicious hot pretzel for lunch, and checked out the view of the city from the observation deck of its tallest building.
“All right, that’s enough for today,” Applejack said. “We all have to get to the salon.”
“The salon?” Apple Bloom said, gasping. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Scootaloo sticking her hoof in her mouth and making a fake gagging noise.
“Well, I didn’t have you all bring your nice dresses because I wanted you to carry more luggage,” Applejack said. “There’s a really nice party to celebrate the New Year, so we should look nice, too. The Oranges are paying for this as well, so I don’t want to hear any complaints.”
With grumbles from Apple Bloom and Scootaloo, we returned to the hotel, and visited its salon.
Two hours later, I looked at the rest of my party. My mouth hung open, with good reason. Without the utilitarian ties holding her mane and tail in a ponytail, and with a gentle wave added to her mane, Applejack looked radiant. Apple Bloom’s mane was arranged on her head, the red hairs reaching an impressive height. Sweetie Belle’s mane sparkled, while Scootaloo looked remarkably different, her mane combed flat and secured with hairpins decorated with amethyst.
I looked in the mirror. I didn’t see much of a change. The natural waviness of my mane was enhanced, but it still looked a lot like my mane did when I wasn’t wearing my bow.
“Well, now that we all look pretty and such, we best get going. Let’s stop for ice cream before dinner,” Applejack said.
We all cheered. But I wondered something. “Why are we getting ice cream so close to dinner?”
“Trust me. The kind of food they serve at one of these things is hardly worth the term.”
Two hours later, dressed up, just coming down from a sugar high, Applejack escorted us to the evening’s party. It was held in the ballroom of the same hotel where we were staying, and judging by the number of attendees already there, there was no way the party could have fit in the Oranges’ apartment. We had to steer ourselves around small clusters of ponies and busy unicorn waiters, carrying trays of appetizers and drinks in their magical auras. Finally, we reached Aunt and Uncle Orange, busy being the hosts of the party.
“Thank you kindly for the invitation, Uncle Orange,” Applejack said.
“You’re very welcome, Applejack. The New Year’s Eve party is an Orange tradition, and it simply wouldn’t do to have you in Manehattan and not invite you,” he replied. “Dinner will be served shortly.”
“That’s good to hear. Now, I’d like to get the fillies settled,” Applejack said.
“If I recall, you’re sitting over there,” Uncle Orange said, pointing to the end of one of the long tables. “You’ll find name cards at each place setting.”
“Thank you again,” Applejack said. She gave us subtle nudges to pull us away from the hosts. Once we were away, she continued. “I’ll keep an eye out for a waiter to bring you some drinks and snacks. Until then, hold tight.”
Soon, we had glasses of iced tea, and little bits of toast topped with cream cheese and vegetables. And we were bored.
“Booooring,” Scootaloo said, reading my mind.
“Applejack did say it’d be worth it in the end,” Apple Bloom said. “But yeah, these parties are for older ponies.”
I looked around the room. The simple act of talking, of establishing new relationships and reconnecting with old friends, kept these ponies happy. Perhaps this is what Silver Spoon’s parents are training her for.
Would it be my future as well?
Finally, ponies started moving to the tables. Once everypony was seated, a small army of waiters descended on the tables. Cloches were lifted, and plates flew across the tables in the grip of multiple unicorns’ auras.
I stared at the tiny salad on my plate. Now I know why we had ice cream first.
If I had to guess, these small meals were designed to allow more time to socialize. I saw Applejack talking politely with her neighbors. I couldn’t quite hear what they were talking about, but I did notice a difference in the way she spoke. It sounded like she was fighting to conceal her accent.
While enjoying our entree, I felt a hoof nudge me under the table. I looked up at Scootaloo. Once she had my eye, she opened her mouth, saying, “Ahh!” I got a look at the multicolored mass on her tongue, the remains of the pasta salad.
I giggled. It was totally foalish, but I laughed at her antics, and even more when she tricked Sweetie Belle into looking at her. Then, Apple Bloom got into the action. She held up her roll, which she had hollowed up and stuffed with mashed potatoes.
A quick glance to my right proved the adults weren’t watching us. So I fashioned some strands of spaghetti into one of those droopy mustaches. I got laughs out of my friends.
Well, it’s good to know we could make our own entertainment.
Once dessert was consumed, and coffee drunk, ponies began to slowly leave the tables. “Now comes the good part,” Applejack said to us.
“What are we doing now?” Scootaloo asked.
“We’re going to the roof,” Applejack responded.
Going to the roof required first taking the lift to the top floor of the building, then taking a set of stairs up. The sight was something I hadn’t seen on any building in Ponyville. The flat roof had been set up like a reception area. Small tables were scattered across the central area of the roof, barely large enough for a couple of plates. There were benches beyond that. More waiters walked through the crowds, with trays of drinks and light snacks.
What was most impressive about the area were the reddish spheres hovering just above our heads. They emitted heat while shedding very little light. The warmth of the magical heat lamps kept the chill of the winter’s night away while not interfering with the view.
“Look,” Applejack said.
She motioned with her foreleg, drawing our attention to the Manehattan skyline. It’s called the city that never sleeps, but seeing all those buildings, still lit up, made it clear to me just how true that statement was. One building in particular was more brightly lit, with a bright ball hovering over it.
“From here, we can see that famous ball drop to welcome in the New Year,” Applejack said.
“Cool!” we all said.
“Have you seen this before?” I asked.
“Nope,” Applejack said. “I lived with Aunt and Uncle Orange for a little while when I was still trying to find out what I wanted to do with my life, but that was during the summer. Attended quite a few parties like this one, but never on the roof. And I’ve never seen the ball drop, though Aunt and Uncle Orange talked a lot about it. I’m glad they’re sharing it with us.”
“How much longer?” I asked.
“About half an hour, if I remember what that clock in the hotel said.”
I yawned. Was it really that late? I knew that the party was long, but I hadn’t realized so much time had passed. I walked off with my friends, noticing they were fighting fatigue. Of course, being fillies, we would never admit to being tired, especially to an adult.
We talked until we noticed a shift in the activity on the roof. There was a general buzzing from the crowd, and ponies started to gather at one end of the building, looking to the sky. We squeezed around the legs of the older ponies, finding a place where we could see the falling ball.
“One minute, everypony!” somepony shouted. We craned our necks. That glowing ball was just barely moving. “Thirty seconds!” It started to descend faster. “Twenty!” It was now moving down at a constant speed. “Ten! Nine! Eight! Seven! Six! Five! Four! Three! Two! One!”
The ball reached its destination, flaring as brightly as Celestia’s sun, before fading, revealing 1478, the new year. And just as we got used to the ambient light of the city again, the sky exploded. Multicolored trails filled the night sky, reds and blues and greens and bright yellows. The fireworks display held the attention of these four tired fillies.
When the grand finale ended, ponies started to head back into the hotel. We waited a bit for the crowds to clear, making it easier to find Applejack. We headed down the stairs to our hotel room, bypassing the long wait for the lift.
The scene in the hotel room was an anticlimactic end to an exciting day. Apple Bloom leaned against her sister, ready to fall asleep. Sweetie Belle was sprawled on the bed, still in her dress. Only Scootaloo seemed active; she stared in the mirror, mussing her mane with her hooves, trying to restore it to its normal wind-tossed look.
I stared at the paper on the desk, blank save for the hotel’s name and address. A new year. A new life for me, with opportunities as vast as the city of Manehattan. I had a lot left to write on this blank page before me.
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Settlers of Catan randomly makes an appearance?
silver spoon?
Blondie returns! I keep seeing references to her these days. AJ must be proud that a fan-created double-fictional expy of her is so popular.
2705829 It's a fine game!
2705909
I was thinking the same!
Shout out to ComissarAJ!
catan is a great game so is twilight imperium
2706012
Heck yes! Settlers of Catan is and most likely always will be one of my favorite board games, right up there with Pandemic.
Was the history book that Applejack is reading a reference to something? I've read a book that was very similar to what Applejack was talking about.
2718901 I was thinking of something written in the style of Jared Diamond's Guns, Germs, and Steel, though obviously the subject matter would be vastly different. Really, any mass-market history bestseller would probably fit the bill.
2719544
I'm going to go do a happy dance now, because that's the book I was thinking about. True, some other mass-market history books would fit the bill, but I'm just going to ignore that for the sake of my happy dance.
Just bingeread the last five chapters and they were great. I love what you've done to dt and the interactions with tiny hints of her old self. I love this.
So far, the trip to Manehattan is going fine for Tiara, but soon will come Babs. Onward, to the next chapter...!
C&C:
“I don’t think you should begrudge Diamond Tiara keeping in touch with her old friend,” Applejack commented, without looking up from her book.
> Add ‘for’ after ‘Tiara’.
2774752 The sample sentences from an online dictionary I checked don't use a preposition with begrudge.
"She begrudged her friend the award."
"She did not begrudge the money spent on her children's education."
I liked the chapter, but the metaphor kind of dropped me out of the story. It felt forced. I would have preferred that the chapter end with something simpler about getting into bed and falling asleep.
Statue of Harmony.. l love it!
And ima guess Silver Spoon. Can't think of anypony else.
Scootaloo points towards Diamond Tiara, "Is it a bitch?"
"Dammit girls!"
As a historian, I take offense at that. A tome must have three pages of footnotes for each page of text to be considered properly stuffy.
That makes a lot of sense. Dang it! I'm not supposed to think while reading fanfic! grumble, grumble, grumble
Nice story so far, good work.
Oh, I know what it is! Book!
I spy with my little eye a future cutie mark starting with P Pineapple
Statue of Harmony
th06.deviantart.net/fs70/PRE/i/2012/077/d/e/pony_statue_of_liberty_by_sircxyrtyx-d4t75ml.png
me