> Mascu-Line > by BlndDog > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > Mask You Line > --------------------------------------------------------------------------                Applejack wiped the sweat from her brow and let out a slow breath.                That was close.                The long early-morning shadow peered around a moment longer, and returned to its work at the stretched-out hay cart.                She should have let the cows out ten minutes ago. She should be turning the manure pile and putting out seed for the chickens. But instead of doing any of that she had been hiding behind a big water barrel near the door of the barn, peering over the side every few seconds to try and get a better look at Big Macintosh’s face.                He had passed her in the kitchen quickly as always. She had been checking the shipping and receiving records at the dinner table, and consequently she only saw him through the corner of her eye. There had been something distinctly uncanny about his features, but when she looked up from the thick black binder her brother had already left the house.                There! The shadow moved suddenly, becoming a warped profile of Big Macintosh’s face. He had turned around to check one of the wheels. Applejack peered over the side of the barrel once again.                His was completely focused on the wheel. With one hoof he pushed the cart ever so slightly. It squeaked.                He did not look different at first. His was the same freckled tomato-red face that she was used to. His straw mane was in its natural style. But his eyes… there was something not right in his eyes. around his eyes. They looked darker, sitting deeper in his head than they did naturally. It made his cheeks look almost angular. And the corners of his eyes seemed to extend just a little further than usual.                Sweet Celestia, that’s a changeling!                Applejack ducked behind the barrel once more and retreated silently. There was a ten foot length of rope in the tool shed behind the pig pen. “Big Macintosh” was still oblivious.                She had oiled that door just a week ago. It opened without a sound. The rope was hanging from a hook on the wall, already formed into a lasso.                Taking a breath to calm herself, Applejack took the rope in her mouth. She knew that it was not her brother she was about to attack, but it looked like him.                He was pushing the cart sideways to free up the wheel. Applejack charged.                He heard her hoofsteps and dropped the cart.                “What in the name of…”                “Give up! I got you!”                He was strong. Much stronger than the many changelings she had fought in Canterlot. He barely moved when Applejack slammed into him.                “Alright Applejack, what’s going on?”                “What did you do to my brother?”                “What are you talking about?” He asked, holding her away with one hoof. “What’s gotten into you?”                Her efforts having no effect, Applejack eased off and looked up at “Big Macintosh” with her head cocked. It was definitely not her imagination. His eyes were…                “What in tarnation is that on your face?”                Big Mac was already so red, it was always a sight to see him blush. He put a hoof behind his head and tried to block as much of his face as he could without seeming evasive.                “Come on,” Applejack said testily. “What did you do?”                “It’s…” Big Mac coughed into his hoof. “You remember Fluttershy’s brother? He’s… I mean… I went into town yesterday, and there was a new store...”                “You know what, let’s forget about this,” Applejack said. Now that the shock had passed she was starting to feel embarrassed. “Just… wipe it off before anypony else sees and we won’t talk about this again. I’ll go into town and see this for myself.”                She had expected Big Mac to be relieved. He tried his hardest to fake it, but there was a profound disappointment flashed in his eyes before he clamped his mouth shut and turned his attention back to the cart.                Applejack finished her chores a little quicker than usual. She knew that Big Mac wouldn’t tell her anything more on the matter.                By breakfast time Big Mac was back to his normal self, at least externally. He was even less talkative than usual, and ate his oatmeal quickly before heading out once more. Apple Bloom was keeping Granny Smith company, so neither of them noticed his slight peculiarity.                When she arrived in Ponyville proper Applejack had not to look far. Many of the mares seemed a little on edge, and for good reason. Half the stallions that she saw had some peculiarity about them. Some had done it subtly; a slight dab of color in the inner corner of the eye. Others it seemed were clumsier with their hooves. Caramel had off-brown paste from his top eyelid up nearly to his hairline, though to his credit he had been artistic with the swirls on the outer edges of the blotch.                Big Mac’s “new store” was equally easy to find. In a narrow storefront that had once housed Lilly Valley’s florist shop before the merger with Daisy and Roseluck, a lanky green pegasus was arranging tiny tins on a bay of shallow shelves. He had the most ridiculous blond mane sequestered in a large topknot, and dense unsightly stubble on his oversized jaw. Putting on a stern face, Applejack tapped on the glass.                “Sorry, we’re not open yet.” His voice was muffled by the glass. “If you want to buy something…”                “Darn it Zephyr Breeze, I’m not here to buy anything!”                That stern tone swayed nine ponies out of ten, and Zephyr Breeze’s strength of will was nothing exceptional. He fumbled with the lock for a moment, and after a quick look up and down the street he opened the door just wide enough to let her in.                “Sorry about that,” he said a little shakily. “I’ve had some crazy days since opening this shop. I just couldn’t believe that a town like Ponyville doesn’t have a shop like this already.”                “And what exactly is a shop like this?” Applejack asked, eyeing the shelves suspiciously.                It looked a lot like a barber’s storeroom, though with a disproportionate amount of razors and soaps compared to shampoos and dyes. Not so central to the store but impossible to ignore once discovered was a rack of stubby pencils arranged by color beneath a pair of eyes blown up ten times life size to emphasize the subtle yet unnatural hues around their rims.                “You see,” Zephyr said suavely, appearing suddenly beside Applejack. “A question like yours is why Ponyville needs what I’m selling. Stallions’ hygiene stores are all the rage in the big cities: Canterlot; Manehattan; Vanhoover… And now I’m bringing some finesse to the rest of Equestria starting with Ponyville.”                “We have plenty of finesse here thank you very much,” declared proud Applejack. “Zephyr, you’ve bewitched just about every stallion in Ponyville. What in tarnation is that hideous paste they’re painting all over their eyes?”                “Oh, that’s my very own creation,” Zephyr said, pointing with both hooves at the rack with the eyes. “It’s a hard-wearing grease eyeliner, guaranteed hypoallergenic, perfect for the working pony. Lasts a whole day in any weather without smearing or your money back. Mascu-Line, I call it.”                “Masculine?”                “No,” Zephyr said, putting an unwelcomed hoof on Applejack’s hat. “Mask-you-line! It’s brilliant. By far my best-selling product. It’s going to be a big hit everywhere, I just know it, and Ponyville gets it first!”                Applejack glared at Zephyr and made a show of dusting off her hat.                “Now why would anypony wear eyeliner…”                “Mask-you-line.”                “Eye. Liner. For no reason?”                “Aaaaplejack,” Zephyr said with a rather condescending smile. “There can’t be any harm in a little makeup, can there? Lots of mares use makeup every day. So what if some ponies want a little color in their lives? Capes and fancy jackets are no good for working, but a few streaks of Mascu-Line doesn’t get in the way.”                Applejack was not swayed. There was something so repulsive about Zephyr’s mannerism that her mind tuned her out halfway through.                “Zephyr, you’re not going to peddle your... awful makeup in this town,” she said sternly. “We’re hard-working ponies here, and we don’t need any of your big city distractions!”                “It’s only a few seconds in the morning,” Zephyr said defensively. “Of course some ponies haven’t figured it out quite yet, but in a week or two you won’t notice anything except some well-groomed stallions.”                “We in Ponyville groom well enough when the occasion calls for it,” Applejack said. “If you don’t start being more sensible, you’ll be hearing from the whole town.”                She left without looking back, and was exasperated to find half a dozen stallions already waiting outside.                She had not gone five steps when a bush spoke to her.                “Pssst,” it whispered. “Applejack. What’s going on in that store?”                Now the bush grew a pair of light blue eyes.                “Hi Pinkie Pie,” Applejack said, calming down a little. “That’s Zephyr Breeze’s new store. Makeup for stallions. Can you believe it?”                “Ooooh, really?” The bush grew a pink face topped with a curly pink mane. “Is that why Caramel didn’t pick up his muffin this morning? Caramel always gets a muffin from Sugarcube Corner. But this morning he walked right past our window. I had to know what was going on, so I left Gummy in charge and followed Caramel here. I was worried that he was getting muffins from somewhere else, but then I thought, ‘don’t be silly, the only other place that has muffins is Derpy’s print shop, and then you’d have to print something and Caramel doesn’t need any printing.’ And now you’re here, and I know Derpy’s not stealing our customers, and I have to go because Gummy gets flustered when there are more than three ponies in line.”                The bush grew four pink legs and a tail and leapt two feet into the air. Applejack grabbed the tail, leaving Gummy the anxious unpaid alligator to suffer a few moments longer.                “Pinkie, don’t you see what’s happening?” Applejack said in a low voice. “This makeup nonsense is bad for everypony. Stallions are getting distracted from their work. Soon they’ll be walking around with little mirrors lookin’ at themselves. Instead of buying muffins they’re spendin’ their bits here. If this doesn’t stop, all of Ponyville is in danger.”                “Oh Applejack!” Pinkie Pie laughed. “It’s just makeup. Rarity wears makeup, and she always makes her dresses on time. I’m sure they’ll…”                “Oh gee… look at the time,” said a yellow stallion with three horseshoes on his flank as he emerged from the store holding a white-and-gold paper bag. “I’ll see you later, Noteworthy… No, I’ll have to skip breakfast today. I’m needed at the farm.”                If Applejack felt smug she could not show it. A mere shrub could not contain Pinkie Pie. Gummy would need to deal with the morning rush at Sugarcube Corner a few moments longer as Pinkie took off in the opposite direction, zipping through the crowd without disturbing a single customer and materializing at the counter with a vein pulsing in her temple and nostrils venting steam.                “ZEPHYR BREEZE EXPLAIN YOURSELF!”                The lanky pegasus cowered under Pinkie Pie’s flaming eyes.                “WHAT IS HAPPENING HERE? YOU CAN’T COME INTO MY TOWN AND STEAL MY CUSTOMERS!”                “Wh… what?”                “YOUR MAKEUP HAS NO PLACE IN THIS TOWN! IT’S NOT EVEN EDIBLE!”                “A… actually… our l… lipstick is food-safe and…”                Fortunately for Zephyr, sensible Applejack had followed her friend back into the store, and despite her disapproval of his business she could not in good conscience unleash Pinkie Pie’s wrath on him just yet.                “Sorry folks,” she said, pulling Pinkie Pie off the counter with at least half her strength. “What Pinkie Pie means to say is…”                “MAKEUP IS EVIL! EEEEEVIL!”                Applejack could only smile sheepishly as she dragged Pinkie Pie out of the shop. As soon as they were out of sight, however, it was Pinkie Pie who dragged her. Before she knew it Applejack was inside Sugarcube Corner, where Mrs. Cake was frantically bagging pastries and counting out change with a small alligator perched unblinking atop her head.                “Pinkie, dear,” she began to say.                In an instant Pinkie Pie’s expression softened.                “Sorry Mrs. Cake!” She said even as she pushed Applejack into the kitchen. “I’ll be right there!”                Applejack had stopped resisting at this point, and was ushered more conventionally upstairs into Pinkie Pie’s one-and-a-half level room.                “There’s poster board in the party cave,” Pinkie Pie said. “We need signs! Pamphlets! I’ll be there as soon as I can.”                “Pinkie, what…”                Pinkie Pie pushed the frosting-shaped bulb at the end of the banister. The floor under Applejack disappeared, and she was swallowed by darkness. #                By noon the signs were finished, all two of them. “WORKING PONIES DON’T WEAR MAKEUP” and “DOWN WITH ZEPHYR BREEZE.” The latter was created after much revision, its tone and aesthetic gradually softening from an unspeakable slogan in chunky red paint to its current black-on-white form. The pamphlets were hastily written out by hoof. There were only twenty for distribution, but they kept a master copy for printing. Perhaps it was not the best use of time. Applejack knew that she would be missed at the farm, but in her mind Ponyville was in danger. Not immediate danger; there was no ursa minor or bugbear running amok (yet), but the slow-creeping decay of painted eyes and powdered cheeks was a sure path to slow and painful doom.                After tea the two mares set out. Now that the morning rush was over Gummy was more than able to attend the till. When the clock at Town Hall struck the half hour the two mares set up in front of Zephyr Breeze’s shop, already followed by a dozen curious onlookers.                “Everypony!” Applejack began. “Thank you all for coming! Now you all know me, and you know that I wouldn’t do something like this unless I it’s important. This shop behind me belongs to Zephyr Breeze. He’s selling makeup for stallions! Telling them to wear it all the time!”                “It’s terrible! Some ponies are even spending their bits on makeup instead of food!”                Pinkie Pie’s addition elicited some concerned looks from the crowd of mostly mares.                “That kind of extravagance might be okay for Canterlot, but we’re honest ponies here in Ponyville! This makeup nonsense has no place here! We won’t have our noble working ponies turning into some painted big city clowns!”                “Never!” Shouted several ponies from the growing crowd.                “Darn right!” Applejack cried, raising a hoof for emphasis. “Zephyr Breeze needs to change his business or get out of town!”                “Stop!” Came a most masculine voice.                Here was a most unlikely leader. Grey-coated with a grey mane, heavy green rims clashing with his blue eyes and somehow with the green of his cutie mark, Lucky Clover stood at the head of a crowd of ponies. There to his left was Bulk Bicep with delicate oriental brows over lashes that glittered with tiny diamonds. It was all too much for Lily Valley, who collapsed against Roseluck and missed the rest of that and most of the following day.                “Applejack, stop this right now!” Demanded Lucky Clover. “You have no right to tell us what’s wrong or right! We like Zephyr’s store! He’s not doing any harm, and we were having fun!”                “He’s making you all crazy!” Applejack replied, getting a few cheers from her supporters. “What kind of honest pony wakes up every day and draws all over his face before work?”                “What about Rarity?” Several ponies shouted from the opposing camp.                “Hey!” This from a distance, but not too far. Applejack and Pinkie Pie exchanged uncomfortable and slightly ashamed looks.                “Sorry, Rarity!”                “Go mind your own business, Applejack!” Lucky Clover yelled.                “And what about you?” She retorted. “Don’t you have someplace to be?”                It was never supposed to be more than a shouting match at its worst. The next day nopony was proud of what was about to happen, and had they known at the time what was happening one street north of Zephyr Breeze’s store it would not have happened.                Applejack’s absence from the farm had been noticed. Granny Smith had noticed, and she had gone to ask Big Macintosh, and Big Macintosh had been in the bathroom throwing away his twelve-shade set of Mascu-Line, his palette of blush, his false eyelashes, and all the other things that could not possibly fit in a small rubbish can. And Granny Smith knew what the problem was without any explanation from her grandson, and knew too where Applejack would be, and as Applejack stared daggers into Lucky Clover who stared cocktail swords into her, Granny Smith and Big Macintosh were one street away with a suspiciously squeaky apple cart that was supposed to go to a wheelwright that day but would not make it there until the day after.                What they heard was a crash. What they did not hear was “oh dear me, are you alright there Big Mac?”                “Did they break in?”                “Don’t you set a hoof on Zephyr!”                Perhaps it was partly Bulk Biceps’ fault for having such broad shoulders that nopony could see over. The ponies who could not see pushed to the front, and from there could not see enough of the storefront to put their hearts at ease. Caramel pushed Daisy, and Lyra was quick to come to her defense. Bulk Biceps hastily broke up the scuffle by throwing both parties apart and over the heads of their respective parties.                “Now calm down…” Applejack began.                “Take THAT!”                Sparkles and streamers announced Pinkie Pie’s entry into the fray. Applejack was tackled to the ground by somepony, and now there was no change of a peaceful resolution.                Through all of this Zephyr Breeze was cowered under his counter softly crying and chewing on his hooves. At Town Hall Mayor Mare had sent a telegraph to Canterlot requesting a riot squad. Fortunately for the rioters Spike the Dragon had noticed the potential for trouble ten minutes ago, and had sprinted back to Twilight’s castle with an armful of quills (of the wrong type, “but that’s not important right now!”).                One minute after the cart wheel gave way, there was a blinding white flash in front of Zephyr Breeze’s shop. When her vision returned Applejack found that she was indoors and could not move. She was in a jail cell, pressed against the bars by all the other rioters. Ponyville would receive two more holding cells several weeks later, but at that moment there were only the four under Town Hall.                Princess Twilight Sparkle floated in the centre of the room, angry and disappointed in equal parts, and also very confused. Her horn was still smouldering from the teleportation spell.                “Applejack?” She said, taking deep breaths. “What in the name of Celestia is going on?”                There was something instantly sobering about looking into the eyes of a close friend and an alicorn princess. Suddenly it seemed all so silly. The morning wasted making signs; the pamphlets; the shouting. Applejack averted her eyes, trying to think of something to say that would not be as embarrass as the truth.                “Zephyr Breeze’s shop,” she said. “It’s… I mean, I just thought it was, well… bad for this town.”                Don’t ask don’t ask don’t ask…                “Bad?” Twilight repeated, cocking her head. “Why would it be bad?”                Fiddlesticks.                “Twilight,” Applejack said. “Can you... can you let everypony else go? This is my fault. I’ll explain everything.”                “Well…” Twilight looked around at the packed cells. “Technically Ponyville doesn’t have laws against rioting…”                “We really should do something about that,” Bulk Biceps called, and was hushed by most of the others.                “I’ll stay too,” Lucky Clover said from the cell across the room. “I guess I’m the reason this got out of control.”                “AndImadethesigns!” Pinkie Pie confessed.                After some consultation with Mayor Mare, the others were released. Only the three remained, Pinkie Pie and Applejack in one cage and Lucky Clover in another. The latter’s account was straightforward: he had seen Applejack in Zephyr Breeze’s store that morning and later saw her signs, and decided that Zephyr would need the help of his customers. Applejack and Pinkie Pie looked at each other in horror, but there was nothing in his account that was not true. Twilight sent him away with a stern warning, and he took his leave still looking ashamed.                “Applejack, Pinkie Pie,” Twilight said. “Is this true? What made you think running Zephyr Breeze out of town is a good idea?”                The two mares sat in their cell looking down at their hooves. It was Pinkie Pie who finally spoke.                “I thought Zephyr Breeze was stealing customers from Sugarcube Corner.”                “What?” Twilight nearly smiled. “Pinkie Pie, Zephyr Breeze doesn’t even sell food!”                “I know, but Caramel didn’t buy a muffin this morning, and I saw him going to Zephyr’s store, and then…” Pinkie Pie trailed off.                “I talked her into it,” Applejack said. “I gave her the idea. I’m sorry, Pinkie Pie, you were right. I was getting all worked up over nothing.”                There came a knock at the door. Twilight opened it with her magic, and Applejack turned redder than the pony who now descended the steps into the jail.                “I’ll stay up here!” Granny Smith called as the door closed. “If I see Applejack now oh goshdarnmuffinrusty…”                “Hi Big Mac,” she said. “I owe you an apology too. I’m in big trouble, aren’t I?”                “Eyup.” To his credit he did not look smug, only hurt. The snub from that morning was still fresh.                “I’m sorry,” she said. “I shouldn’t have been so quick to assume the worst. I trust you, Big Mac. You know what you’re doing.”                “Eyup.”                “I guess I’ll start from the beginning, Twilight,” Applejack said. “It all started this morning, and mostly I was being silly…”                “Eyup.” #                Applejack and Pinkie Pie were released hours later. Mercifully the clerk upstairs told the Apple siblings that Granny Smith had gone home. Twilight had sentenced Applejack to make amends with Zephyr Breeze, and Big Mac made it known without saying a word that he would like to witness it.                “You want anything while we’re there?” Applejack asked during the short walk to the store. “You actually looked good, you know? You really have a touch for this stuff.”                Big Macintosh snorted, but Applejack could see a spark of happiness in his eyes.                “I mean, some of those stallions looked downright silly.”                That drew a fleeting smile from him.                They found Zephyr Breeze curled up behind the counter surrounded by kittens. Fluttershy was beside him, stroking his hoof.                “Applejack…” the yellow pegasus said softly, one of her wings extending defensively over her brother.                “It’s alright, Fluttershy,” Applejack said, taking off her hat. “I’m real sorry, Zephyr. I was wrong. You do belong here.”                “W… what?” Zephyr Breeze looked up with huge wet eyes.                “Your store’s a hit,” she said, forcing back the defiance that still tugged at her. “My brother loves your makeup. I think you’ve found your calling.”                “R… really?” Zephyr Breeze looked from Applejack to Big Mac to his sister.                “Sure you have,” Fluttershy said. “I’m proud of you, Zephyr. The old you would have run away by now. But you really care about this store, don’t you?”                “I… I guess I do,” Zephyr said, a smile creeping onto his face.                It took a few minutes more, but Zephyr Breeze got up and dusted himself off. Big Mac picked out a set of Mascu-Line from the bug-eyed display and a beard grooming kit for his bare chin. Applejack did not object.                He knows what he’s doing. He always did.