Falsely Presented as Fictional, Which Means It's Factual
Some things would never make it into a Daring Do book. Sometimes it was because of time, or pacing, or keeping the books young-adult friendly, sometimes it was simply a matter of certain things, like walking around while repeatedly looking at a compass that didn't point north, not being particularly interesting or exciting.
Daring Do thought about that as she walked around while repeatedly looking at compass that didn't point north.
She thought about that, she thought about how studying two and a half to four and a third thousand year old texts gave one a tendency to repeat long phrases, such as "walking around while repeatedly looking at a compass that didn't point north," which would raise the hackles of one's editors like nothing else, she thought about whether coming here chasing what might turn out to be an undomesticated goose would turn out to be a mistake, and above all else, she thought about what the compass might be pointing at.
As for what she did . . . well, the signal was strong, so she followed it. Part of her worried that her compass had started to pick up electronics again (why were those so frequently false positives for magic detection?), and she'd end up in an arcade, but at the same time she felt reasonably sure that the signal was moving, which should be a good sign.
She caught up with the source just in time to see a young woman enter an elevator. If the magic in the area really were connected to a high school, finding someone of her age made perfect sense. Daring joined her in the elevator.
The teen had kept her eyes on the ground --looking up no more than absolutely necessary to hit the button for the next floor-- but, just as the doors closed she glanced at Daring. Her eyes opened wide. This could be a good thing, but it could also--
“Oh my God, you're AK Yearling!” the teen shouted.
Bad thing.
“I'm--” the teen stopped. “Sorry,” she said. Then took a step back and returned looking at the elevator doors. “Sorry. You're trapped in a metal box with me, and I shouldn't take advantage of that situation.”
Could you please teach that lesson to the rest of my fans?
“I appreciate that,” Daring said. “I seem to be at a disadvantage. You know my name, but . . .”
“Sunset Shimmer,” the teen said. She tried to offer her hand, dropped what she'd been holding, dropped into a squat, picked it up, immediately shot back into standing upright, and finally actually offered her hand to Daring.
Daring cautiously shook it. “So you're a fan?”
“I'm like your-- yes, I'm a fan,” the teen --whom Daring tentatively dubbed, "Sunset," instead of, "Shimmer," or, "Do I really have to say both names every time?"-- said.
“I didn't see you at the reading,” Daring said. But I did pick up readings that might have come from you.
Ok, that had made the girl uncomfortable. Good going.
“I'm sorry,” Daring said, “it's not as though you have to--”
“You don't have to be sorry,” Sunset said. “It's nothing to do with you. I wanted to come, but . . .”
“You don't have to tell me anything,” Daring said. Please tell me things. Even if this is the slowest elevator in the world, it'll let us out soon.
“One of my former friends is also a huge fan,” Sunset said, “and that's exactly the kind of drama I don't need in my life right now.”
“I apologize for bringing it up.”
“I did actually almost go anyway, made it,” the elevator stopped, “right to the bookstore's doors,” bingo, “but--”
The elevator dinged and Sunset stopped talking.
The doors opened and Sunset said, “Um, nice meeting you,” Sunset said. “I should stop bothering you.”
“Sunset Shimmer,” Daring said.
“Yes, Ms Yearling?”
“If you want to finish what you were saying,” Daring pushed the 'door close' button, “I don't have anywhere I need to be.”
Sunset just looked at Daring in shock.
Daring gave an encouraging gesture.
“I was just going to say that I went there hoping I'd find a way to hear without being seen, but in the end, especially with the way the crowd would restrict movement, I couldn't see any reliable way to avoid her.”
“That's unfortunate,” Daring said.
“So, now that I've finished my tale of woe,” Sunset said, “what's going on?”
Daring raised an eyebrow.
“You don't interact with the public,” Sunset said. “When the first book became a bestseller you used the money to buy a house in The Middle of Nowhere, which happens to be located outside Vanhoover, just so you wouldn't have to deal with people.
“You never do public appearances, yet you showed up to do a book reading here. You avoid fans like the plague, and you're encouraging me to keep talking to me after my introduction was incoherent fangirl squeeing.”
Have you met my other fans? Daring thought. That was not what incoherent squeeing sounded like.
“I suppose it does look quite odd,” Daring said.
Sunset raised one of her eyebrows.
“I'm here doing research.”
“There aren't any ancient ruins around here,” Sunset said.
True, but you might be surprised by some of the places that do have them.
“Before the aquifer was tapped,” Sunset continued, “this area couldn't support permanent settlements.”
Or not.
“That's what makes it so interesting,” Daring said. “Usually reports of large scale magical events,” Sunset's eyes widened ever so slightly; Daring continued as if she hadn't noticed, “come from places with a certain atmosphere. Places steeped in folklore and tradition. Old places.
“Claims of magic in modern industrialized cities usually have a different flavor to them. Secrets and shadows and hidden things.
“Yet, here in Canterlot, there have been stories of two major magical happenings,” Daring said. “That piqued my curiosity. Would you happen to know anything about that?”
“Are you asking me if I know anything about magic?” Sunset asked. It was smooth and easy and with a natural feel. If not for the barest hints of guilt in her eyes and her posture, Daring might really believe that Sunset didn't know anything.
It was clear that Sunset was a practiced liar, but it seemed she didn't want to lie. That was something Daring could work with.
The question had been asked in a way that indicated the only reasonable answer was 'no'. Daring said, “Yes.”
Sunset looked a little bit too surprised by that. She wasn't taken aback; she was trying to look taken aback and overshooting.
Trying too hard, kid.
Sunset said, “I know there's no such thing as magic.”
It was too practiced, and the twinges of guilt were still there. Still, if Daring hadn't been specifically looking for the signs, Sunset's oblivious act would have fooled her.
Daring glanced at her compass. It was definitely pointing at Sunset.
“Sunset Shimmer,” she asked, “may I share a secret with you?”
This time Sunset's surprise was genuine.
“I . . . I guess.”
“It's something I'd have to show you,” Daring said. “And I'd prefer a place where it takes more than the push of a button for someone else to open the doors.”
Daring pushed the door open button.
Should have done that when I said, 'push of a button'.
“We're in a mall,” Sunset said, “there aren’t a lot of private rooms.”
Daring walked out.
“That's where you're wrong,” she said. “There are plenty of private rooms, if you're willing to be a bit dishonest.”
“Dishonest how?” Sunset asked.
“As but one example,” Daring said, “dressing rooms are intended to be places where potential customers try on clothes, not private meeting rooms for people with no intention of changing.”
~ * ⁂ * ~
Sunset followed A.K. Yearling into the changing room, holding clothes that would almost certainly fit if not for the fact that neither of them intended to actually try anything on.
By the time Sunset had deposited the clothes on the room's bench, Yearling had closed the latch.
“So . . .” Yearling said. Obviously Sunset didn't have a lot to base the assessment on, but the way Yearling said that sounded uncharacteristically awkward.
Yearling blinked, then said, “I suppose the first thing you should know is that I don't need glasses.” Yearling set her glasses on the bench. She took off her hat, let loose her hair, and shook her head. When her hair stopped moving, the result looked uncomfortably like Rainbow Dash to Sunset. It was all shades of gray, but it had the same style and pattern as Rainbow's hair.
At the back of her mind, though, was the niggling feeling that Sunset should recognize the hair from somewhere else.
Yearling shed her shawl, and Sunset's mind shut down.
Sunset was looking at Daring Do. Daring Do was a fictional character. There was no way that Daring Do could be standing in front of Sunset. Sunset could not be looking at Daring Do. Sunset was looking at Daring do.
She wasn't in her trademark outfit, but the fact that she was wearing a short sleeved shirt meant that Sunset could see some notable scars. Very definitely real scars. The remains of long healed wounds.
Daring-- Yearling-- whoever, looked the slightest bit uncomfortable Sunset's attention, but Sunset couldn't help appraising each, soaking in every detail. She recognized some of them. For example the arrow that hit Daring in chapter four of--
“That can't be . . .” Sunset said.
Daring smiled.
“That's not . . . That's not possible,” Sunset said.
“Kid, you'd be surprised at how much is possible,” Daring said. She smiled. Then she said, “And thanks for skipping the part where you accuse me of cosplaying as my author insert.”
Sunset still wasn't at a point where she could really process new input in any detail, so she said the first thing that came to mind:
“You're not in costume.”
“True,” Daring said. She picked up a shirt Sunset had brought in, took it off its hanger, and shook it, and dropped it. It landed back on the bench in a crumpled heap. “Now, I've just revealed my greatest secret to you,” she repeated the process with another shirt, then turned to Sunset, “are you still going to tell me that there's no such thing as magic?”
“I . . . um,” Sunset said.
Daring picked up a skirt this time and repeated the crumplification process.
“We should . . .” Sunset said.
Daring crumpled a pair of pants.
“. . . go to my apartment and talk there?” Sunset finished, the sentence having somehow turned into a question.
Daring nodded.
“That sounds good,” she said while fiddling with her hair.
Sunset just stared.
Something seemed to occur to Daring and she said, “. . . unless you're propositioning me, because then the answer is definitely, 'No.'”
Sunset shook her head.
Daring looked Sunset over, picked up one of the shirts from the store, and held it in front of her so that it would give Sunset some idea of what Daring would look like in it.
“What do you think?” she asked.
Sunset looked on blankly for a couple of seconds. Then she realized that she had, in fact, been asked a question. She said, “Oh, uh . . . great.” A moment later she added, “You'd look good in anything.”
“In anything, huh?” Daring asked. She dropped the shirt and put on her hat, “I must not be dressing frumpy enough.”
Sunset laughed.
“So you are still capable of experiencing human emotion,” Daring said playfully. “That's good.” Daring put on her glasses, then looked at the bench. “You think we've tried on enough clothes to be realistic?” she asked.
“I think the people who work here would probably prefer it if you just put the rest back,” Sunset said, “since, you know, none of them have been worn.”
Daring put on her shawl, and she was A.K. Yearling again. Then they left.