> A Midsummer Day's Quest > by Soufriere > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > They Do Wander Everywhere, Swifter Than The Moon's Sphere > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- As rain danced lightly on the tar-paper roof above, the hallway of the top floor of the aged apartment building, The Crowned Arms, seemed somehow even darker than usual as Rarity walked slowly – no, she did not amble; Ladies do not partake in such activities – toward her regular destination: Apartment 416, the last door on the left, making sure her stylish purple boots that perfectly matched her hair and short skirt would not make too much noise on the slowly deteriorating wooden floor underneath the worn layer of red commercial-grade carpet. By this point, midsummer, she had made this exact journey so many times she lost count. Shaking the water off her violet umbrella, she stopped in front of the dark wooden door and knocked. No answer. Of course. She would have been more surprised if there had been one. She knocked louder, but not too loudly. Even after several months of visiting, she had never met her best friend’s neighbours and honestly wanted to keep it that way. Reaching into her long, elegantly styled purple locks, slightly frizzed thanks to the weather outside, through which she had to walk two blocks from the bus stop, she pulled out a hairpin as another fell to the floor – due to her daily fussing over looks, she had no idea how many were stuck in there. Before she opted to commit breaking and entering via lockpicking, she decided she may as well try the door. Sure enough, it was unlocked. Again. Rarity rolled her eyes as she entered the tiny apartment. “Sunset, darling?” she called out, “You really should keep your door locked. How many times have I—” Then she realized her target was not in the front room. “Is she asleep during the day again?” Rarity asked the giant wooden cable spool set in between the navy blue sofa and the previous decade’s model television with aerial. The spool did not respond. Perturbed, Rarity placed her umbrella against the spool and marched the few feet inward to the bedroom. Upon pulling open the bedroom door, which was also unlocked, she saw Sunset Shimmer sitting on the edge of her twin bed in her pyjamas, very much awake, two-tone hair messier than usual, focused on a laptop computer sitting atop a stack of upturned milk crates. Rarity tried not to notice her friend was not wearing a brassiere but a faint blush crossed her milky white cheeks anyway. Slowly, Sunset turned her head to face her interloper, her default look of irritation quickly giving way to a pleasant smile. “Hi,” she said simply. “Guess I didn’t lock the doors again. Oh well. Did you knock? Sorry; I’ve been kind of occupied.” “Occupied with what?” Rarity asked. Sunset shrugged. “Work.” “School work? But it’s summer vacation right now.” “Of course not,” Sunset replied. “This is for my real job.” Rarity cocked her head. “That writing thing?” Sunset nodded. “My semi-regular column for the Canterville Underground Weekly Daily.” Rarity fidgeted. “Isn’t that the tabloid created by – how do I put this gently? – our city’s malcontents? My parents were talking about what a terrible influence it is. They think its coverage of Orangeglow may have contributed to his death.” This made Sunset sport a broad grin and chuckle. “After Assistant Editor Forrester was fired – turns out our publisher Fancy Pants, who’s really taken a non-romantic shine to me, doesn’t appreciate employees who proposition high school girls, so thanks for giving him cause – I went back to the bullpen and heard the real story from Editor Inkbarrel. We didn’t kill him; what actually happened is a lot funnier, at least to me.” “Uh…” Rarity looked at her friend askance, “How can you laugh at a man’s death?” “I’m technically an illegal immigrant, remember? He would’ve had me thrown out of the city despite my having lived here, worked here, and paid taxes for a decade and being, for the most part, not a criminal… at least never convicted. Where would I go?” “Y-you could stay with me…” Rarity said, her voice barely audible. Sunset shook her head. “Hmm? No, no. Your parents hate my guts – can’t blame them, really. Plus, you might get arrested for harbouring an illegal. That counts as obstruction of justice if they want you to suffer. Have you ever seen the inside of the Tourquesh Prison, Rarity?” “Then, back to Equestria? Y-you’ve talked about it,” said Rarity with some hesitation. “NO.” Sunset said bluntly before shifting to an abnormally quiet tone. “I’m not ready. I… still can’t face Her yet. Anyway,” Sunset quickly moved the subject where she wanted it, “As you can imagine, I’m glad the orange guy is gone, but that’s not important right now. What is is finishing this column before deadline.” “And when is that?” “Tomorrow night,” said Sunset. “Sometimes I question my job. Maybe I’d do better hawking sushi. But, be that as it may, I’d love to not be down-to-the-wire for once in my life. You know?” Rarity nodded, thoughts of term papers floating through her head. Once she cleared those memories from her mind, she took a closer look at Sunset’s laptop. It was noticeably aged, the type of model Rarity had last seen in grade school. An external hard drive was connected to one of its ports. Unbidden, she sat down on the bed next to Sunset, who briefly looked her with confusion but just as quickly shook her head in acceptance. “Sunset, that computer is rather out of date,” Rarity said gently. Sunset shrugged. “Yeah. But it still works… for now… for the most part.” “What do you mean ‘for the most part’?” “Well, “it had ‘pregnant battery syndrome’, so I have to keep it plugged in 24/7,” Sunset sighed. “Also, the OS is so past it, my browsers can no longer be updated, meaning several newer programs aren’t compatible. I can’t do things like watch certain video sites or use social media without it crashing – not like I’m one for social media anymore anyway. After all, what if someone decided to impersonate me and frame me for social crimes I (for once) didn’t commit?” Rarity couldn’t help but scoff. “I think your paranoia may be getting the better of you, dear. Still… isn’t it annoying to not be able to use your computer to its fullest?” “Of course it is, but buying a new computer or even a refurb costs money I’m not willing to spend right this second, although I price-checked various newer models a couple months ago. Even so, I’m going to use Cream-Puff here until she can fight no more forever.” “Cream-Puff?” Rarity asked, tilting her head. Sunset nodded. “When I first came to this world, there was one old yellow bus that was usually kept in reserve in case another bus broke down. Because it was so out of date, everyone called it the cream-puff. Still not sure why, but I thought it was an apt name for my little machine here.” She patted it gently. “Um, another question,” Rarity said. “Go ahead,” agreed Sunset, barely listening as she continued to type, clicking save after each sentence, which caused her external drive to make a barely perceptible whir. “Is your screen supposed to look red like that?” Sunset stopped typing and leaned towards her laptop’s screen. Sure enough, its display had a noticeable red tint to it. “Redshift,” Sunset said without intonation. “In astronomy, it means an object is moving away from the point of observation as the wavelength of its light increases relative to the viewer.” “Yes, but what does it mean with a computer sitting in front of you?” Sunset scratched her chin. “It means either I cranked up the warmth way too high, or this display has some serious issues. This is an old computer. I’ve had it for over nine years.” “Fair enough,” Rarity said. “One more eensy little question, darling.” “Go ahead…” replied Sunset, her voice tentative. “Do old computers normally emit smoke?” Sunset shook her head. “No. That would just be silly.” “Then perhaps you should take a look at the back of your, uh, Cream-Puff,” Rarity said as she gestured to the monitor. Sure enough, small wisps of grey smoke puffed out of the joint between the main part of Cream-Puff and its screen. Sunset’s face retained a look of utter blankness as she began to click and type frantically. Sunset’s fingers were moving more quickly than Rarity had ever seen. She almost expected to see smoke – she did, in fact, but it was rising up from the keyboard rather than her friend’s digits, in ever greater amounts as Sunset finally saved her work one last time and backed it up on the external hard drive she had plugged in, giving a soft grunt amidst the escalating carnage before her. No sooner had Sunset safely ejected the drive did golden sparks fly out of Cream-Puff as it began to combust. Rarity bore a look of complete fear and horror, as if she was watching something self-destruct in front of her – which she was. Sunset, for her part, looked mildly miffed as she unplugged Cream-Puff’s AC adapter. “Sunset! Your laptop is on fire!” Rarity near-screamed. Sunset nodded. “Yeah. Guess I’d better do something about it, shouldn’t I.” “Of course you should! Get some water!” “Are you insane?” Sunset asked bluntly, swiftly turning her head to Rarity, the look on her face suggesting she had just heard the dumbest thing ever. “You never put water on an electrical fire! That makes it worse. I’ll get the extinguisher. Hopefully it still works. Um, could you make sure nothing else in my room catches fire in the next fifteen seconds?” And with that, Sunset fast-walked out her door to the kitchen as Rarity sat in front of Cream-Puff, whose keyboard was beginning to melt into a plastic blob, fidgeting as she felt each second turn into an eternity, visions of a burning building with inadequate escape routes dancing in her head. All was flames. Vividly she remembered the scene from that movie she had watched with her father as a child where the man opened the golden chest and all his skin melted off – father laughed; she was unable to sleep for a week. Finally, Sunset returned with the fire extinguisher, its red contrasting against the shrouded greys of her room – smouldering laptop excepted. Her eyes sported a look of determination mixed with massive irritation as she stood wearing a scowl about a foot away from Cream-Puff and, with a barely noticeable nod, gave about two seconds warning for Rarity to get out of the way. She had not quite done so when Sunset unleashed a blast of white foam at her computer. The pressure was enough to knock it off its makeshift table onto her bed. She closed her eyes in a grimace – Rarity correctly assumed that if Sunset had not had her hands full, she would have facepalmed. Instead, rolling her eyes, Sunset approached Cream-Puff as Rarity moved as far away from the bed as possible while trying to brush the foam off of her skirt, and unleashed one last blast from the extinguisher. With that, the sparks and embers died. Sunset’s black comforter seemed, at least for the moment, ruined. And Cream-Puff had been put out of its sudden violent misery. After glaring at the carnage for a few minutes, Sunset finally let out a sigh and let her muscles relax, nearly letting go of the extinguisher… which would have crushed her bare foot. Another silent moment passed before Rarity saw fit to speak. “Um, are you okay, dear?” Sunset’s head rotated towards her slowly, like a rusted clockwork automaton, but she eventually nodded in the affirmative. “Yes. I guess.” “I’m… sorry about… this,” Rarity said quietly as she motioned to the mess on the bed before approaching Sunset to take the fire extinguisher. Sunset shook her head. “Why in the world are you apologizing? It’s not your – oh thanks; that thing gets heavy after awhile even if I do use it – fault. You’re not the one who used Cream-Puff several years past her expiration date.” “Her?” Rarity asked. “Temperamental anachronistic workhorse prone to exploding? Sounds like me, doesn’t it? In that case, a girl’s name is fitting,” Sunset said with a shrug, her voice resigned. “Well, I… uh…” Rarity attempted to counter. “I can’t actually find a good argument against that.” “Of course you can’t. Now, I’ve got a problem on my hands.” “A problem?” Rarity asked. Sunset nodded. “I need a new computer. Granted, I could just go to the public library on the north side of Connemara Square but… time is restricted to two hours a day and I simply can’t work in that sort of environment. Same with the bullpen, such as it is – poorly-lit beige room with maybe three computers; most of us are freelancers who only show up on deadline day or the monthly meeting because direct discussion with Inkbarrel and Mister Fancy-Pants is faster and more effective than email.” “I can understand that reasoning,” admitted Rarity. “But, I see another issue.” “And that is?” “Well…” Rarity said hesitantly, “Didn’t you just say you lacked the funding to buy a replacement computer?” Sunset stared at Rarity as if a horn had sprouted from her forehead. “When did I ever say that? I said I didn’t want to spend the money, not that I don’t have it.” She sighed. “I guess I need to take a little trip today.” “To where?” “To acquire money, obviously. I really didn’t want to have to tap into my savings, but there really isn’t any choice, is there?” Sunset said. Lacking any other response besides wondering about these mythical savings, Rarity simply nodded. “So, I guess I’d better make myself marginally presentable,” said Sunset as she reached for the floor lamp over which her black brassiere hung. Without warning, Sunset stripped off her magenta shirt, allowing her sizable bosoms to briefly bounce. Rarity, receiving an eyeful of this, blushed furiously as she quickly sat back down on Sunset’s bed and placed her hands in her lap. As if performing a derpy ballet she had done a thousand times before, Sunset twinkle-toed across her room, pulling clothing out of the various random places she had thrown them, smelling some to make sure they did not offend before taking them to her bathroom and shutting the door behind her. After a couple of minutes, during which Rarity could hear the faucet run and the sound of brushing, gargling, and a brief cough, the door opened slightly as Sunset’s pyjamas were unceremoniously thrown out into her bedroom with no regard for where they landed. Rarity shook her head and rolled her eyes, a bemused smile on her face. A short time after that, Sunset appeared from her bathroom dressed to leave. Rarity immediately noticed her attire was slightly different from usual. Her hair was pulled back into a long ponytail. In addition, she wore heavy blue jeans instead of a skirt or her hip-hugging pants – Rarity silently lamented this – and her trademark leather jacket was completely zipped up and buttoned. “So, which one is this?” Rarity asked. “Rachel,” Sunset replied. “It’s still raining outside, isn’t it? I looked out my window after I woke up. Sasha doesn’t have an inner lining, remember? I may like the feel of leather on my skin – never got along with the cows back in Stalliongrad… jerks – but I need some padding for what I’m about to do.” Rarity looked confused. “I think you’re one of the last girls who needs any padding, dear.” Sunset let out a single chuckle. “Not that kind of padding. Safety equipment. Where I need to go is too far to walk in this weather, so I’m going to drive.” “You mean…?” Sunset nodded. “Taking a little adventure through Downtown on Sassy.” “Sassy?” “My motor-scooter. She can be a bit cantankerous, since I don’t really get to use her all that often. Also she’s purple,” Sunset explained. “What does being purple have to do with anything?” Rarity asked pointedly, flipping her hair as ostentatiously as possible, giving Sunset a ‘you seriously said that?’ glare as three more hairpins flew out. “Oops,” said Sunset. “In my defense, I’ve had Sassy since long before I met you. Still… sorry.” “I accept your apology,” Rarity replied formally. “Anyway, I’d better get going,” said Sunset as she slipped on her boots and made her way to the door. “I… suppose I had better as well,” Rarity said, her head dipped slightly, drooping further when she saw Sunset had not heard her. Then Sunset turned back to her. “You want to come with?” she asked. Rarity attempted with all her might to keep her expression from lighting up like a Fresnel lantern. Had she been with anyone other than ever-oblivious Sunset, she would never have had to try; with Sunset, she failed utterly. “Uh, sure!” Sunset’s walking speed felt to Rarity much faster than usual. She stopped at the elevator and nearly pressed the button before thinking better of it. “Quicker to walk down,” she said. The stairs of Sunset’s apartment building wrapped around the elevator on three sides. A dark wood railing on the inner side suggested correctly that everything had originally been open-air, but walls were built around the old lift car – or a replacement – later on to fit some sort of random building code. The wood underneath the worn-down-to-nothing carpet of the stairs creaked briefly as Sunset’s boots thumped along them. Rarity, not one for quick ascents or descents, tried her best to keep up. They stopped at the second floor, or rather the first floor above street level, which was how the building’s apartments were numbered. Instead of continuing the clockwise spiral around the elevator as they both had done so many times before, Sunset turned left and walked down the hall a few yards. “What are— Where are you going?” Rarity asked, thoroughly confused. Sunset stopped in front of a door that did not match the others in look or placement – it had a panic bar, for one – next to which hung a flickering red ‘EXIT’ sign. Opening the door, she gestured for Rarity to join her in descent. Rarity found herself traversing the darkest, most cramped-feeling stairwell she had ever been in, accentuated by the wrapped pipes running along the walls. What few lightbulbs existed were absurdly low wattage, no doubt to minimize how often they would need to be changed. Clearly the entire thing had been an afterthought, certainly added in later, although she felt it was still old, just not as old as the main stairs. The stairway twisted back on itself twice before finally arriving at a landing with a metal door, also with panic bar. Upon opening it, the girls found themselves on a small concrete platform raised just a few inches above the alleyway, underneath a tacky green and white awning off of which water dripped. “Easy way out to the parking deck,” Sunset said as she gestured across the alley to the multilevel parking garage some feet beyond. Holding up a brass coloured key she continued, “Exit only if you don’t have one of these.” Rarity stared at the awning like she was about to vomit, prompting Sunset to reply with a small bit of irritation. “Do you know how much complaining it took to get them to put this thing up at all? It’s better than walking straight out into a storm. Although… looks like the rain has let up. Just mist now. Come on.” Crossing the dingy alley, avoiding puddles if at all possible, the girls entered the parking deck. Next to the door, in a cross-hatched corner clearly meant to not be used for parking, sat Sunset’s purple motor-scooter, Sassy. Like most scooters of its class, its single padded seat was long enough to fit a second person. It also had a large cubic plastic thing on the back for storage. Sunset used a small steel key to unlock it and pulled out a helmet and riding goggles. Pursing her lip, she eventually said, “I don’t think I’ll need these,” intending to put the goggles back in their space, but Rarity took them and put them on. “Fashionable, yes?” she asked hopefully. “Fashionable, no,” replied Sunset with a smirk. “But it’ll keep the mist from further ruining your eye makeup. Now hop on behind me,” she said as she mounted Sassy. Hesitantly, Rarity did so. It was not the first time she had sat on the thing, but it was very much the first time she joined Sunset and knew it would be moving. “All right, Sassy. Let’s get you going,” Sunset said to her scooter as she turned the ignition, put it in neutral, and slowly backed out of her spot until she could switch gears and be on her way out of the garage. Once she did, with a satisfying vroom, Rarity was nearly thrown off by the sudden acceleration. With a quick yelp, she grabbed Sunset around the stomach. “Eh… Sorry. I just… new experience,” Rarity said over the motor. “I wasn’t even going five miles per hour,” replied Sunset. “But it really is a different feeling being fully exposed versus being in a car – you feel the speed even if it’s not fast at all in the grand scheme of things. It’s probably best if you hold onto me just in case, because I’m about to get out into traffic.” Rarity smiled, blushing slightly, but Sunset, concentrated on her driving, did not see her. Once Sunset turned right onto Harmony Street, heading north, Rarity felt what Sunset meant immediately – the wind whipped her hair into a horizontal oriented mess and she felt herself quickly becoming damp in the mist. With the goggles, she could barely see through water droplets the buildings and oncoming traffic whipping by. Acutely aware she had no seatbelt to protect her, she gripped Sunset tighter, leaning against her back. She closed her eyes and allowed her mind to wander – a clear moonlit night on the beach during Summer Break, herself and Sunset both in bikinis (Rarity having ditched her wide-brim hat as sunburn was no longer a concern) finishing off the remnants of a melon as they gazed out over the ocean together, the waves quietly rippling over their toes, hair blowing in the gentle breeze. They would look deeply into each other’s eyes, into each other’s souls, place hands on each other’s shoulders and… A sudden stop shocked Rarity out of her bubble. Grumbling under her breath as her brain was just getting to the good part, she looked around her and found she was in a part of Downtown she was not used to, a block or two closer to the River Ferrus than her own place of work which faced away from the water. In front of her stood an aged two-storey brick building with a sign next to its front door reading ‘ERGOT MUNICIPAL CREDIT UNION’. Sunset slowly manoeuvred her scooter to park in a gravel alleyway alongside the place. “It’s just good manners to leave what legal parking exists for actual cars, right?” Sunset said. “They’ll never tow me.” Rarity nodded, forcing a smile as Sunset parked and dismounted. Rarity followed, but found herself walking a bit bowlegged. Sunset looked at her and chuckled. “First time on a scooter can do that, especially when you tense up your muscles. When I made that big turn, it felt like you were trying to give me the Heimlich. Anyway, we’re here.” “I saw the sign, but what is this place?” Rarity asked. “It’s a credit union. Like a bank but not. You’ll see what I mean when we’re inside,” Sunset said as she walked toward the front door. A prerecorded chime sounded when Sunset and Rarity crossed the threshold. Rarity, after lifting the goggles, noticed immediately the decor left a lot to be desired – it felt as sparse as the city revenue office where she had gone to get her ID card and hoped to soon get her proper driver’s license: everything in white and beige and laughably out of date. A few plastic chairs were strewn about the lobby next to cheap tables on which sat that day’s edition of the Canterville Courier along with old magazines delicate from months or years of repeated reading. Sunset approached the teller window farthest from the door. To Rarity’s surprise – though she realized in retrospect she should not have been – the young man behind the counter recognized Sunset immediately. “Good morning, Miss Shimmer,” said the man, tall and thin with charcoal hair and a soul patch, in a perhaps overly friendly voice, enough so that Rarity felt something fiery well up inside of her. “What can we do for you today?” “Looks like you’re out of coffee, Farthing,” Sunset said flatly as she gestured over to an empty wooden table along the wall. “Could have used some in this weather.” “Sorry,” Farthing said, his tone genuine. “Our old machine broke last week. It’s going to take time to replace; we don’t have capital to spare like a bank.” “I know,” said Sunset gently. “It’s fine. So, is Bean-Counter here today? I need to access it.” Farthing suddenly sported a look of shock mixed with some concern. “It?!” Sunset nodded. “Yeah. I was hoping I wouldn’t have to, but Cream-Puff melted.” “Why do you name all your personal items?” asked Farthing. “Every rock, every tree, and every creature has a life, has a spirit, has a name,” Sunset said in a mock-wistful tone as her wry grin proved she was trying her best not to laugh. “Also, personalizing my stuff makes me feel like I have a connection to something. I don’t exactly have too many of those here. Except her,” she gestured to Rarity. “Girlfriend?” Farthing asked with absolute sincerity, to which Sunset forced back a laugh as she shook her head. “No,” said Sunset as Rarity, out of view, looked dejected. “Best friend in the whole wide worlds, absolutely. But, even after ten years in this city, I’m still not sure where I fall on that front, if anywhere. How is Shirtwaist?” “My wife is doing fine,” Farthing said. “Haypenny is going to start preschool next year, so Shirts can finally get more work hours in at the textile mill. We want to save up to try and get her into Crystal Prep.” “Well, it’s a good school. I guess. Never been there myself, although I did tutor a couple kids who attended. Legacy entries. Pompous idiots thought they were better than me. I schooled them. Literally. If you want to try and get your daughter in there, more power to you, but it’s only worth it if she’s interested in STEM. If she takes after her mother, then you might be better off keeping her in the public system and use that cash you sock away to pay for Caballus College, or Triple-C to learn a trade, or just to give her a good start to adult life down the line. When she gets older, if she ever has trouble in a subject, contact me. If I’m still around, I’ll give you a discount,” said Sunset with a smirk. “I appreciate it,” Farthing said. He turned toward a door. “I’ll go and get Mister Counter for you. You and your friend can take a seat in the meantime.” “Thanks,” Sunset replied as Farthing exited the behind-the-counter area and ascended a flight of stairs. As Rarity joined Sunset in sitting in the uncomfortable plastic chairs, a hundred questions swirled through her mind. Despite having known Sunset for over three years, and being her closest friend for the past several months, Rarity realized how little she knew about her, how much she still needed and wanted to learn. Meanwhile, Sunset picked up the newspaper and, after reading something on the front page, facepalmed with a quiet groan. A few minutes passed before a tall, rotund, severe-looking bald man came trumping down the stairs and approached Sunset, who was still in facepalm mode. Once he got to within three feet of her and cleared his throat, Sunset looked up and, after doing a double-take, threw the newspaper on the floor as she stood out of respect. Rarity quietly slinked over to pick up the paper, placing it back on its table before standing to attention as well. “Good morning, Old Bean,” Sunset said in a respectful tone Rarity was not sure she had ever heard come out of the girl’s mouth. Sunset’s expression reminded Rarity of how she had had to deal with the madame in charge of cotillion: a dirty combination of required respect, fear, and hate. “Miss Shimmer,” Bean-Counter replied in gruff response, his expression grave. He towered over Sunset, but the two stared each other down for interminable seconds before both simultaneously broke into laughter. Rarity, for her part, cocked her head in confusion. “What?!” was all Rarity could verbalize in that instant. “You’re looking well today, Miss Shimmer,” Bean-Counter said, his tone much more pleasant and welcoming. “I am well, weather aside,” replied Sunset. “I parked in the alley again. Hope you don’t have any armoured trucks scheduled.” Bean-Counter shook his head. “Not today.” “Anyway, you seem well too. Extra shiny,” Sunset said in her more familiar cutting tone with smirk, her eyes briefly tilting up to the fluorescent bulb whose light reflected off Bean-Counter’s bare head. “You know, normally I’d complain about going through this whole stare-down rigmarole every time I show up—” “Aw, that’s no fun,” interrupted Bean-Counter. “But,” Sunset continued, “you’ve utterly confused my friend here,” she pointed at Rarity, “and that’s gotta be worth something.” Bean-Counter looked surprised. “You have a friend. That’s unusual for you.” “I’ve been through a lot this past year, Old Bean,” Sunset said, a tinge of weariness in her voice. “Anyway, I may as well introduce you two. Rarity, this is Mister Bean-Counter, the man who runs this MCU and has helped me out of more than one jam over the past decade. As you might have noticed, we’re close enough I get to call him Old Bean. Old Bean, this is my best friend Rarity. I’d advise against kissing her hand, chivalric though that may be; she’s a minor.” Bean-Counter bowed slightly. “Enchanté, mademoiselle,” he said, extending his right hand. Rarity took his hand and briefly shook it. “C’est un plaisir de vous rencontrer aussi, Monsieur,” she said. At this, Bean-Counter smiled broadly. “Vous connaissez la langue de la vraie haute culture. Agréable.” “Culture et couture,” Rarity said as she sported a broad grin. Bean-Counter let out a belly-laugh as he turned to Sunset. “Je l’aime bie— uh… I mean, I like this one, Miss Shimmer. You should keep her.” “Locked up in my vault, perhaps?” Sunset asked jokingly. “I don’t think she’ll fit. And that brings us to why I’m here. I need some of it.” With that, Bean-Counter’s face turned serious. “It’s been a long time since you asked for it. I was hoping with your jobs, we wouldn’t need to touch it again.” “My laptop melted and I have a deadline for the Underground Weekly tomorrow. Would you rather I lose my gig and spend my summer at a food truck in Riverside Park hawking sushi?” He shrugged. “You would look adorable in a sushi-girl’s robe. But I see your point. Fine. You’re the Union member; I’m just an adviser. If you really need it, then I can’t legally stop you.” “Just two should be more than enough, I think, going by the last time I checked the commodity prices,” said Sunset. Bean-Counter nodded as he led the girls down some stairs into the basement. All there was at the bottom was a vault full of safe deposit boxes, like one would find at any bank (although this place was not technically a bank) except it had what appeared to be a second vault door at the back of the room, a backlit keypad to its right. Once they were all inside, he shut the massive metal door behind them. When Rarity heard the clang, she turned to look at Sunset with more than a small bit of trepidation. “This is just standard procedure for me,” Sunset said. “You’ll see why. We’ll be able to get out whenever I’m through with my business.” “Th-that’s good to know,” said Rarity, not entirely convinced. She looked around at the chrome-coloured boxes, wondering which one might be Sunset’s. Would she have one of the little ones, barely larger at the front than an index card? Or one of the file-cabinet sized ones near the bottom? As she pondered, Bean-Counter waddled over to the other vault door and punched in five numbers on its keypad. A pleasant sounding series of beeps floated through Rarity’s consciousness just as a loud click shocked her back into reality. It was a powerful lock disengaging. Silently, slowly, the second vault door swung open, revealing naught but darkness. “After you, young ladies,” Bean-Counter said pleasantly. Upon seeing Rarity’s extremely pensive expression, Sunset put her hand on Rarity’s shoulder – that short-circuited her concern – and said, “Don’t worry. There’s a keypad on the other side and I know its sequence. Besides, Old Bean won’t lock us in; he has to join us, and he’s not the type to try and pull a fast one on me. Besides, every employee in the building knows we’re in here.” With that, Sunset walked into the unknown. Rarity followed. Finally, Bean-Counter brought up the rear, leaving the keypad door open. It felt like they walked forever, though realistically it could not have been more than ten or twelve feet, just enough to envelop one in gloom. As soon as Sunset reached the middle of the room, an overhead fixture clicked on, bathing the room in a soft yellow light. This room was definitely a vault, but it felt completely different – it was smaller than the main vault, vaguely oblong save for the cramped walkway they had just gone through, and it was obviously much older with its decor that looked from the same time period as The Crowned Arms, albeit less decrepit. Embedded into the walls were a dozen mini-safes with circular doors, each denoted by a single letter. Rarity could not help but be reminded of something she had seen in some movie somewhere, though she failed to remember which. “This is our ‘Treasure Room’,” Bean-Counter said, although Rarity could not tell how much, if at all, he was joking. “Do you really have to give it such a silly name?” Sunset asked him before turning to her friend. “Rarity, this room is where many of the city’s most valuable items are kept – priceless artifacts the museum doesn’t have room for, the League Cups for just about every sport, the jewellery collection of cola heiress Madame De-Phizz, and so on. My box is also here.” Sunset and Bean-Counter walked over to Vault “G”. Standing on either side, they each placed a key in one of its twin keyholes, faced each other, nodded, and simultaneously turned the tumbler locks. Slowly and with but a soft creak, the door swung open. Rarity’s jaw dropped at what she saw inside — gold. Multiple mounds of gold bullion coins, easily over two hundred in total, glinting faintly under the modest light. Sunset reached in and took two coins, inspecting them, moving them around her hand a bit. Once satisfied, she nodded to Bean-Counter, who shut the door and removed his key. After Sunset followed suit, Rarity turned to her. “Why do you have gold?!” Sunset shrugged. “In Equestria, bullion is the standard legal tender; we call them ‘Bits’. When I decided to escape to this world, I cleaned out the account She had set up for me. How was I supposed to know this world considered gold so valuable? And it doesn’t count as actual currency; that was annoying. The first time I tried to spend one, the shopkeeper thought I was insane – lucky for me he thought it was fake and didn’t try to swindle me. I tried to use a normal bank to hold them but, with no ID, they wouldn’t let me. But this credit union was more than willing to take me in and let me use their facilities. My cache of Bits is their insurance to keep a hostile government from shutting them down or letting them fail for lack of capital. Well, me and the crazy old lady’s jewels.” “Wait,” said Rarity. “Since your coins aren’t legal tender, how can you use them?” “Next door to here is Facet’s Jewellery Shop, an—” “Oh I’ve heard of them,” Rarity interrupted. “Their commercials play on the radio sometimes. And I think my father may have bought wedding rings there.” “And,” Sunset continued, “They’re above-board. They know I keep up with the market, so they’re not going to play me when I sell my Bits.” Suddenly, Bean-Counter cleared his throat. “Miss Sunset, now that you have your gold, can we get out of here? To be honest, this vault has always creeped me out.” “Glad to know I’m not alone,” Rarity muttered. Once the three were safely out of the secret vault, which Bean-Counter locked, and then out of the main vault and back in the lobby, he cleared his throat as a few beads of sweat beaded from his bald head. “I don’t want my employees getting the wrong idea. You know how rumours can spread,” he said. Sunset smiled. “Don’t worry, Old Bean. I’ll put in a good word for you with Miss Facet when I see her. Okay? One of these days she’s bound to say yes. When she does, why not take her to the Burrito Barn on 3rd?” “Isn’t that where Orangeglow died?” he asked, a skeptical look in his eyes. “Meh,” Sunset shrugged. “Doesn’t mean the food isn’t good. Anyway, thanks for your help today, as always.” “Anytime, Miss Sunset.” “It was a pleasure to meet you,” Rarity said with a bow. Bean-Counter smiled, his moustache ruffling. “Et vous aussi, mademoiselle.” With that, the girls left the credit union. Unfortunately, the weather outside was still misty. “No big deal. We only need to walk one building over,” Sunset explained. “Oh, quit worrying about the damp. Your hair would curl even if you hadn’t left your umbrella.” “I almost wish it was pouring so I could try the ‘waterfall’ look. But then, the, uh…” “Uh?” Sunset asked. Rarity looked down at her chest, alabaster like the rest of her skin, covered by her standard light periwinkle shirt. Then she blushed. “I see what you mean,” said Sunset. “Unintentional Wet T-Shirt Contest. I’d bet a Bit on you to win, but I know such – how would you put it? – vulgarity isn’t really your scene, is it?” “No,” Rarity replied bluntly. “But… I might not mind… if… you… Where did you go?” Rarity looked around. No Sunset. She turned to the jewellery shop and peeked in its reinforced windows. All manner of stones glittered in fancy display cases, along with silver, gold, and platinum knickknacks. Rarity forcibly held herself back from entering because she knew she would have to spend time admiring everything, basking in their shiny sparkly glory. But, Sunset had places to go, and the last thing Rarity wanted was to give Sunset any reason to be upset with her. Several minutes passed as Rarity danced in place, her lips pursed as she valiantly fought the attempt to enter the store. When at last she could take no more and prepared to give into temptation, Sunset came out holding a large stack of banknotes. “Old Bean owes me for this one,” Sunset said, nonchalant. “I got her to agree to meet him for a coffee at the Red-Eye Café on Justice Street after work.” Rarity ignored Sunset’s words, focused instead on the bills. “That is a lot of money.” “Yeah. Maybe selling two bits was overkill, but better to be safe than sorry. Besides, it gives me more leeway to spend on things that aren’t necessities for once. Like, say, paying you back for that dinner you bought me at the Burrito Barn.” “No, no!” Rarity babbled, waving her hands. “It’s perfectly fine! I really didn’t mind paying for you and I would gladly do it again and again as long as you felt like I’m not being crazy but everything’s okay and it wasn’t too much out of my pocket I mean it’s not like we went to a proper place like Bella Arte although I have kind of dreamed of going there but that’s not really important right now and I just th—” As Rarity spoke, Sunset looked at her askance. Once it became clear Rarity’s mouth was running on autopilot, Sunset shrugged with a smile and fast-walked back to the credit union building to deposit her money. She came back out a few minutes later, holding up a debit card and giving it a quick kiss. The sound shook Rarity back to reality. “What was that?” she asked, her voice betraying a little hurt. Sunset held up the card. “I don’t like carrying around a lot of cash if I don’t have to, so I’ll be using this. I’m sure you’re more than familiar with these.” “Yes,” Rarity replied glumly. “My parents keep me on a strict budget ever since that time I bought over two hundred Bux worth of random clothes and costume jewellery from the thrift store at Fourth and Empathy. I don’t know what I was thinking. But they don’t get mad at Sweetie for microtransactions in her silly penguin game.” “Oh, Penguindrome,” Sunset said, stifling a laugh. “I used to like going on there with Flash and see who could get banned the fastest. I did enjoy corrupting that little boy.” “Little? He’s much taller than you.” Sunset narrowed her eyes. “Let’s get back on Sassy. We still have one more errand to run. Unless you’d prefer to be left behind, lost in your private headspace.” “Of course. Sorry, darling,” Rarity said as she followed Sunset to the alleyway on the other side of the credit union building where, much to her surprise, the purple scooter sat unmolested. She dutifully hopped onto the seat behind Sunset, lowering the goggles back over her eyes. Rarity wanted to say something else, terrified she had made her friend angry. But, with Sunset donning her helmet and starting her vehicle, all Rarity could do was wrap her arms around Sunset’s torso and hug her. She thought she could feel Sunset’s back relax as they re-entered the irritation of downtown traffic as the mist grew more substantial and everything began to look slick. As Rarity glanced down at the ephemeral tire tracks running through the millimeter of standing water, she realized just how vulnerable she was to being splashed by oncoming traffic, which would further ruin her hairstyle. In a probably vain effort to protect herself, she sidled up to Sunset as closely as she could, hoping Sunset’s body could somehow shield her from any mess. Luckily for her, oncoming traffic was moving much slower than usual, as mist is extremely irritating for visibility. Soon, they reached a block of parkland fronted on all four sides by grand buildings – the public library, the courthouse, City Hall, and the main Post Office. Sunset slowed her scooter down. “Why are we at Connemara Square?” Rarity asked loudly enough that Sunset could hear over the engine. “We’re not,” replied Sunset just as loudly. “I’m just passing by today.” She turned right, heading south on Justice Street for a couple of blocks, passing the side of the Post Office with its fenced-in backlot housing its fleet of delivery vehicles. Suddenly, she turned left, passing behind the lot. Rarity could see the northern edge of the city’s old brown brick train station some blocks distant, lights dimly shining out of its gigantic windows, rail elevated behind it. “Are we going to the train station?” Rarity openly wondered. “No,” replied Sunset, “But where we’re headed is pretty close to it.” Half a block before reaching the front of the station, Sunset turned on to a narrow side alley. Rarity turned her head rapidly in as many directions as she could. “What are you doing? Why are we leaving the main road?” asked Rarity, worry rising in her voice. “You’ll see,” Sunset said as she slowed her scooter to a crawl. Just a few yards in, a banner hung across the alley from the third floors of two of the buildings read, in white lettering on a blue background: “Welcome to Greenwich Alley and Radio Row!” On both sides of the alley, which ran some three blocks north-south, awnings by every door covered stacks of boxes filled with every possible type of screw, nut, cord, or electronic thing one could imagine, all of which had signs advertising prices or sales. Rarity looked around in awe at the sight, barely noticing the few dozen people – seemingly of lower means – milling about amongst the stalls. Before reaching a crowded area, Sunset pulled off to the side and parked her scooter in a random alcove by a couple of metal trash cans. As she attempted to hop off, she finally realized Rarity still had her arms wrapped around her torso. A quick tap on the forearm shocked Rarity into letting go. Sunset knelt down and opened a panel on her scooter, removing a small green thing which she slipped into her jacket pocket. Rarity, for her part, slowly dismounted, needing a moment to regain her land legs. Once she did, she had all the questions for Sunset, but decided to start with the most obvious. “What did you take out of Sassy?” Sunset grinned. “Fuses. A little bit of insurance if anyone tries to steal her. Of course, you can easily buy fuses at at least one stall here – I have – but stealing a scooter is a crime of opportunity; if it won’t start right up, there’s no point, especially with so many people around who’ll know something’s not right.” “Makes sense,” Rarity admitted. “So, what is this place? It looks like an open-air hardware store.” “That’s pretty much exactly what it is,” Sunset said with a smile. “These buildings, fronted along Veritas and Welcome Streets, were divided in half with the front halves expected to hold small businesses and the back halves leading to residences on the upper floors. Sort of an older, smaller version of my apartment building. Over time, the residences were taken up by geeks, gearheads, and other sundry tradesfolk who know their way around electronics and classic hardware and the alley became an impromptu shopping arcade. This is where people who can’t afford the nicer shops on your side of the city go. I come here from time to time to find good deals.” “So… it’s poor,” said Rarity. “What in the world makes you think you can find a computer here?” “Well, I know a guy,” Sunset replied cryptically as she laid her hand on Rarity’s shoulder before walking off into the bustle of commerce. Rarity tried her best to ignore everything going on around her, out of her element as she was not only with the products but also the people, many of whom spoke in the characteristic thick accent from the other side of the tracks. Eventually Sunset entered a random brick building on the Welcome (east) side of the alley. Rarity followed and slipped in the door to escape the din, lifting the goggles to better see. The interior of the building was dark and a tad dingy despite the lights being on. Sunset walked up to a counter behind which stood a skinny, absurdly nerdy looking boy with light pimply skin, a brown bowl-cut, and thick-rim glasses, wearing a button-up shirt and pocket protector. Rarity stared at the boy, knowing she had seen him somewhere before. Was he a fellow CHS student? At first, Rarity thought he was backing away because two girls of above-average looks approaching him was too much for his underdeveloped sense of self-worth to handle, but then she saw he was not even looking at her, only Sunset. “S-S-Sunset Shimmer!” the boy said in a weedy little voice twinged with terror. Sunset sighed. “Do you really have to act like this every time you see me, Poindexter?” “After all you’ve done to me over the last three years? Yes,” he said frankly. “Also your helmet looks dumb.” “I barely did anything to you,” Sunset protested. Poindexter harrumphed. “You cheated in the Science Bowl and lost me a scholarship to Caballus!” Rarity looked over to Sunset, who for the first time that day looked genuinely angry. “Look,” Sunset said. “I may have called you a geek, a loser, had my hangers-on stuff you in a locker, but I did not cheat CSB! I don’t have to! You’re just upset a girl beat you. Are you really that shallow? STEM isn’t a boys’ world anymore and you’re gonna have to get used to it. I am a tutor! I helped Trixie pass any number of classes. I wasn’t happy with how she tried to pay me – crazy nymphomaniac – but if I can help that dim bulb get even halfway to our level, I think I know what I’m doing without needing to fake it.” Rarity made a mental note to consider roughing up Trixie the next time they met. “You also turned me into a newt!” Poindexter yelled. Sunset scratched her chin. “I’m… pretty sure I didn’t. I turned Snips and Snails into demons for all of five minutes, but everyone else just got a big dose of mind control. In my weak defense, I was sort of out of my own head at the time. I’ve tried for the past eight months to prove I’m not that girl anymore.” Poindexter sighed. “Well, it’s true I didn’t get swirlied or shoved into my locker during Spring term, at least not by any of your minions. Fine, I guess we both got better. So, what do you need help with?” “I heard through the grapevine you have a factory refurb recent-model Pearsoft® somewhere in this building. I want to buy it.” Poindexter looked at Sunset with shock. “W-who told you that?” “You did. Just now,” said Sunset with a grin. “I figured if any of these shops would have a refurb on-hand, it would be Solder’s. By your reaction, it looks like I was right. Would you please go and get it for me?” “Fine,” Poindexter groused as he headed for the steep, dark, narrow stairs, before muttering, “Probably just gonna use it for social junk. Girls, tch.” Rarity turned to Sunset. “Is he…?” Sunset shrugged. “He has a no-win record with girls and it’s left him pretty twisted. One of the reasons he lost the Science Bowl was he kept getting distracted. Couldn’t keep his eyes off my chest, or my rear when I was facing away from him.” “I know that feeling,” Rarity mumbled so quietly Sunset could not hear. “Our bodies are what they are. When I first crossed over, there’s no way I could have known I’d end up looking like this,” Sunset said as she nonchalantly grabbed her own chest, which looked fit to burst out of her zipped-up jacket, causing Rarity to blush. “Of course I took advantage of it, but I have to work at keeping in shape, and I’m not sure how much longer it’ll work. Being a vegetarian helps, I guess, as do my constitutionals,” she concluded. “Indeed…” was all Rarity could say in response before going quiet. Eventually, Poindexter returned carrying a medium-sized flattish cardboard box. He set it on the table and presented it to Sunset, who opened it to take a look at its contents – one aluminum-clad laptop computer with a thirteen-inch screen, backlit keyboard, two USB ports and a camera card port, but no optical drive. She turned it on. It booted up quickly with a decent sound, but stopped as the operating system began to request it be registered. She turned it off, nodding. “I’ll take it,” Sunset said. “How much?” Poindexter frowned. “I won’t give it up for less than a thousand Bux.” Sunset rolled her eyes, then suddenly leaned forward until she was nearly nose to nose with Poindexter, her hands on the counter to steady herself. “Don’t play me, little boy,” she said in an all-too-familiar tone that made both Rarity and Poindexter flash back to Sunset’s alpha-bully days. “You and I both know that’s nearly the price I’d pay for this model new. This is a refurb and no doubt priced like it. Did you really think I hadn’t done my research? What would you use that extra money for? Try to bribe some unsuspecting pretty young thing into taking you on a pity-date? Listen: If you want girls to like you, maybe you should stop treating us like we’re inferior and/or scum. We can and do treat each other that way, regrettably, but you don’t get that privilege. Now, let’s try this again, shall we? How much… do I owe you?” Poindexter slumped his shoulders in defeat. “Seven hundred Bux after tax.” “That still seems like a lot,” Rarity said. “I mean, I don’t know a lot about computers, but I know the Hypermart has laptops for less than three hundred Bux.” “True,” Sunset agreed. “But how long do you think those last? I buy Pearsoft® because they last over twice the time those cheaper models do. Sometimes you get what you pay for. Surely you know that from your own job, right?” Rarity went wide-eyed. “I… cannot disagree with you on that.” “Then it’s settled,” Sunset said, a satisfied look on her face. “Seven hundred. Here’s my card.” She handed her debit card to Poindexter for him to run. “You can imagine I didn’t want to carry so much cash in this area of town.” “Yeah,” Poindexter said sullenly as he ran the card through the reader. “It can be sort of scary at night.” “Wait. You live here?” Rarity asked him. Poindexter’s eyes went wide as he finally noticed the purple-haired girl who had been there the entire time. Despite himself, his eyes drifted down to Rarity’s chest. Rarity rolled her eyes. After a couple of seconds, he made eye contact again. “Yes. Someone has to man the place at night, right? (sigh, not as full as Sunset’s)” Sunset placed her hand on Rarity’s shoulder. “Don’t,” she whispered. “That’s just how he is. Besides, my transaction isn’t finished yet. If you slap him, I won’t get my computer, i.e. the reason we drove all over downtown to begin with.” “Fine, fine,” Rarity whispered. “But I never knew someone outside of the jock clique could be such a pig.” “Stereotypes are unbecoming of a Lady, yes?” Sunset said in Rarity’s faux-posh speaking style. The card reader beeped as it printed out a receipt. Poindexter slid it across the counter to Sunset. “Sign this,” he said in as polite a tone as he could, which wasn’t very. Sunset did so while keeping an eye on Rarity to keep her from chastising him for not saying ‘please’. Once finished, she slid the receipt back to him. “Thank you for your business,” said Poindexter in a robotic tone. Rarity beelined for the door. Sunset took some extra time to make sure the laptop’s box was shut tight. Picking it up, she slowly sauntered out the door, intentionally waggling her hips as ostentatiously as she could. As she reached the threshold, she turned to Poindexter, noticed he was indeed staring, and with a wry grin raised her left arm to give a quick wave goodbye. “You’ll never change. See ya,” she said as she left. Outside, Sunset and Rarity looked up to the sky, or rather what of it they could see hemmed into that narrow alley by buildings. The clouds were rapidly clearing and steam began to rise off the streets as the temperature quickly rose. “Looks like we’ll have nice weather going back to your apartment,” Rarity said. Sunset nodded, an expression of relief plastered on her face. “By the way,” asked Rarity gently, “What do you plan to name this one?” Sunset chuckled. “Isn’t it obvious?” “Not at all. I guess my brain doesn’t work quite like yours.” “Well,” Sunset said, “In memory of Cream-Puff and her inglorious death, I shall dub this new machine…” Rarity looked askance at Sunset. “Why did you do a dramatic pause? That’s more my style.” Sunset nodded. “Yeah, you’ve got a point. I should just get on with it.” “So what shall you *ahem* dub this machine?” “…Sparky.” Rarity buried her face in her hands. “Let’s just go back to your home please.”