> Hell's Belles > by Silent Whisper > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > Unwelcome Guest > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- A strangled yelp was my only warning before a jolt of magic threw me bodily out of Carousel Boutique.  "For Celestia's sake, Sweetie Belle!" shrieked Rarity, hastily stepping forward to block the empty street’s view of Twilight, who was trying to regain her composure. "Knock first!" "It's my home too, you know," I yelled back as the door slammed shut. "I should be able to go into the kitchen without walking… into… ugh, you can't even hear me now, can you?" I glared at the door to our home for a few seconds, but no response came forth, so I sighed and headed towards Ponyville. This wasn't how I planned to start my morning, but whatever. It was clear that the shop wouldn't be open for a good long while, and once it did I doubted my sister would be willing to face me. It was a quiet morning in Ponyville. The birds were singing the songs of spring, the marketplace was just getting set up, and the last strawberry glints of sunrise were fading from the wisps of clouds above. Altogether it was the sort of morning I would have wholeheartedly relished if I hadn't been forced into it.  I sighed again, with more feeling than the first time, clinging to the vain hope that somepony would notice my mood and ask what was wrong. Nopony did, of course. They were all too busy, and I supposed it was for the best. I wouldn't have been able to tell them much anyway. Princess Twilight Sparkle, Sole Ruler of Equestria, Element of Magic, etc., was supposed to be our little secret. Rarity certainly wasn't the Element of Honesty, and it was times like these that I understood why.  Grumbling to myself, I meandered towards the Apple family farm. Rarity could've at least tossed my saddlebags out with me, but nooo, that sort of convenience couldn't be spared for little sisters, could it? So instead of being one of Sugarcube Corner's first customers of the day, I got to see if either of my friends had an extra spot at their breakfast table.  Of course, Pinkie probably would've tossed me a muffin if I explained what happened, but Pinkie was the sort of pony Rarity hoped to keep her whole princess-sized secret from the most. It figured that the ponies most likely to spread the news were also the ones with free food. On that note, I really hoped that it wasn't Applejack who would greet me at the door. The whole honesty thing was something Rarity was trying to keep at a minimum, which was strange, since it was Rarity who insisted that communication was the key to a healthy relationship, immediately followed by a similar understanding of what "acceptable formal attire" was. I’d once asked if that was from previous experience, and her lack of verbal answer was answer enough.  I perked up as I walked up the lane towards the farmhouse. Something smelled good. Something smelled pancake levels of good. Maybe Granny Smith was making her famous four-flavored flapjacks! Or maybe Apple Bloom was experimenting with "the chemistry of baking" again. I hadn't understood nearly a quarter of the words in Apple Bloom's explanation of the science behind it all, but Celestia above, that apple bread had been delicious. I took a deep breath and knocked on the door before looking around. The morning sun glinted off of the dew-dampened leaves. A few bluebirds trilled to each other. Maybe the day wouldn't be so bad, I decided, if I could spend it with a friend. Of course, I could be wrong, since nopony had answered the door. Was nopony home? I cocked an ear against the hoof-worn wood. Not a sound, not even a pancake sizzle. I pulled back and frowned at the door. It certainly smelled like somepony was awake, and it wasn't like the Apple family to keep somepony waiting.  I tried the doorknob, and was relieved to feel it turn without resistance. Maybe they'd just had to run and get something, and would be right back. At the very least, if everypony was asleep, I could grab a bit of cereal and leave them a note. Apple Bloom had always insisted I was like one of the family anyway.  Moving quietly, I stepped inside. The kitchen was warm, heavenly apple-and-cinnamon vapors wafting around my head. I glanced at the stove. The burner was off, but a plate was piled high with… oh heavens, those were pancakes! I moved to take a step closer when a brilliant flare of pale pink light filled my vision. And for the second time that day, I found myself wrapped in magic and flying backwards out of a house. > Interrupted Pancakes, who? > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- "I really am sorry," said Sugar Belle for what had to have been the fifth time as I shoveled another forkful of cinnamon-apple pancake into my mouth.  Sugar Belle paced anxiously around the table, picking up shreds of paper that'd been scattered from her magic blast. "I thought you were somepony else, I really did, I would have never-" "Whobyewbibkahwab?" I coughed in response around the half a pancake stuffed in my face.  Sugar Belle paused in her careful tidying and stared owlishly at her. "Come again?" "Sobby," I replied, before taking a swig of juice and trying again. "Ah, sorry. Who'd you think I was, anyway?" "Uhh…" Sugar Belle's brow creased in deep thought, the sort that I recognized from when Rarity tries to formulate the best possible answer to make herself look good. It’s a special sort of facial expression, or at least this was similar enough to that to make me feel like I was in familiar territory. "Because it couldn't have been Big Mac, right?" I continued, loading as much pancake onto my fork as I could. "I don't think that's the sort of surprise you'd give to a lover. Unless this is one of those things that Rarity said I'd understand when I'm older? I kinda doubt it though. I mean, it's not like I don't know how two ponies have-" "No, it's not that," Sugar Belle said hastily. "It's, well…" she sighed, and stared forlorn at the strips of parchment in her magic. "Can you keep a secret?"  "Sure," I said, before stuffing another few bites worth of delicious breakfast into my muzzle.  "Great," chirped Sugar Belle, clearing the table with a magical flourish. "Because I've been dying to tell somepony, and Big Mac and the rest of the Apples are off setting up for the Grand Galloping Gala in Canterlot." "My pancakes!" I whined, hooves outstretched as my plate clattered to the floor just out of reach.  One by one, the shreds of paper drifted to the table, assembling together to form a whole. Sugar Belle sighed in relief. I pouted at her breakfast, before slowly hovering my fork towards the overturned floor pancakes.  "This is a map I've been given by - nevermind who, actually, just a friend here in Ponyville - of the Canterlot vaults," Sugar Belle explained, leaning down to point at the ruined diagram. A few pieces fluttered underneath her breath.  "Underneath here," she gestured at a sketch torn in half. "Is a vent leading towards a particular storeroom with a bunch of worthless treasure." One of my ears perked, but the rest of my body remained dramatically flopped on the table. "Worthless treasure?" "Mmhm," said Sugar Belle absently, waving a hoof. "Sacred gemstones a dragon wouldn't bother with, the final testament of King Sombra, a few relics of alternate realities, that sort of thing. A treasure to the Princess and the few who care, and worthless to everypony lacking context and a few degrees in obscure alicorn history. Most of it isn't important, but here… ah, hm. How should I… hey, you aren't using this anymore, right?" "That's my fork!" "Technically it's Big Mac's, which makes it mostly mine by in-law rights. Anyway, pretend this fork is the one thing in there that we care about." "I care about breakfast." "I know!" Sugar Belle huffed, before burying her face in her hooves. "Look, I shouldn't be telling you anything at all, but you and your friends helped me once before, and I know I should keep it secret but if I don't tell somepony about this I will simply burst and that will ruin much more than your meal. Just… listen, okay?" I nodded hesitantly. "Okay, okay, I will. Yeesh, are you, you know, alright?" "No," said Sugar Belle matter-of-factly. "In fact, none of us will be, if we don't do something. Somepony is going to try to steal this one less-worthless treasure, and if they do, Equestria as we know it will fall." > why am I calling these chapters they're so f***ing short > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- “Okay, slow down,” I said, propping my head up with a hoof. “That sounds a little dramatic. What exactly do you mean by ‘Equestria will fall?’ Doesn’t it almost fall on a semi-monthly basis?”  “Well, yes,” Sugar Belle sputtered, rearranging a few of the pieces of parchment. “But this is different. This is permanent. And there’s nothing the Princesses - former or current - or any of those close to her can do about it. It’d put them in danger.”  “Danger how? Is it changelings? Comic book villains? Thousand-year-old ghosts slighted by some ancient by-law of nature? Be more specific.” I watched as the fork wobbled in her magic as she tried to get control of herself, and stealthily scanned the kitchen for more pancakes.  “It’s like this,” she finally said. “Remember how Twilight Sparkle and Starlight Glimmer went back in time to fight or whatever, and Starlight Glimmer created all those alternate realities?” “Yeah,” I said. I didn’t, but whatever. “Well, it turns out that all of those universes had Twilight Sparkles of their own in them, and when our dear Princess returned to Equestria and broke the paradox and time spell forever… they came with her. It’s basic quantum entanglement.” I nodded. Not because I understood what she was talking about, but because this felt like a point in the conversation where one is supposed to nod. “I’m pretty sure she had the strings of time and fate wrapped around her very soul at one point,” Sugar Belle rambled, setting down the fork and tracing lines on the torn paper. “Anyway, some… friends and I have been dealing with most of the alternate Twilights, who, I might mention, were all too thrilled that this world happened to be the one where everything went right, but were much less thrilled that this world already had a Twilight as the head of all things.” A thought occurred to me. “When you say you’ve been ‘dealing with’ the other Twilight Sparkles, do you mean-” “More or less exactly what you think that means.” She shrugged and pried a splinter loose from the table.  Huh. That was probably problematic. “Isn’t that, you know, murder?” I asked, pressing my hooves together.  “Is it really murder if there’s already a Twilight here? I mean, remember when there were a million Pinkie Pies and you killed all the alternate ones?” No. “Yes.” “It’s no worse than that, when you think about it. And all these Twilights wanted to be the Twilight. They had a rough upbringing, with all the various end-of-the-world stuff going on, and Swee- I mean, one of my friends said that they’d probably had their very beings warped by the time paradox thing, so…” “Evil Twilights?” “Evil Twilights.” Sugar Belle picked up the fork again and spun it in the air. “Now, this one worthless treasure is supposed to be a failsafe, right? It’s a little piece of enchantment that’ll help whoever is next in line for the throne raise the sun and moon in Princess Twilight’s stead if something happens to her.” I hummed as I felt the pieces fall into place. They might’ve been from different puzzles, but they were fitting together enough at the moment. “And one of the Twilights that you didn’t murder - I mean, take care of -  wants that magic so they can rule Equestria? And probably kill the real Princess Twilight?” Her horn glowed as the fork began to glow red-hot. Was she baking it with her magic? I wasn’t sure if it’d be rude to ask. “That’s about it, yeah.”  “So…” I bit my lip. “What you’re saying is that Twilight is trying to kill Twilight with Twilight’s magic.” “Yup.” The fork started to melt in her mana field. “Huh.” I leaned back in the chair and watched the molten fork-metal as she shaped it into a tiny pie shape. A pie with a frowny-face. Its glow dimmed as it slowly rotated in her magic, and she set it back down on the parchment, which immediately caught on fire.  I snuffed it out with my own magic - I’d had to clean up after a few of Apple Bloom’s experiments went Apple Boom - and looked up to find Sugar Belle watching me intently. “Well?” She finally said, a concerned motherly look in her eyes. “Do you have anything else to say to that?” A sigh escaped my lips as I scooted back my chair, away from the smoldering table. “It’s too early for this. I’m making some coffee, and when I get back, I expect there to be pancakes on the table and some answers to whatever questions I come up with along the way.” > Twilight's Angels > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- There were, in fact, pancakes on the table after my escapade of making coffee, running to the bathroom, banging my head on the wall because this was not how I thought the day would go, accepting my inevitable part in whatever crazy mess would come as a part of this, denying my acceptance, and returning to the kitchen with two steaming mugs of coffee balanced carefully in my magic. “Where’d you learn to cook like this?” I asked, reaching for the cinnamon syrup.  Sugar Belle gave me a strange look before taking a measured sip from her mug. “I’m a baker. I’m married to Big Mac. Bit of A, bit of B.” “Right, right,” I replied, taking a bite and remembering to follow it with a swig of black coffee before continuing to speak. “You housesitting?” “That’s right, or, well… kind of. It started like that, but a few friends called in a few favors, and now I’ve got my very first mi- big favor to do.” She took a big drink from her mug, her gaze darting everywhere but at me. “Cool,” I said, minding my own pancakes. “So, you’re saving Twilight from using herself against herself. What’s the plan?” “Well,” began Sugar Belle, carefully setting her mug down. “The plan was to… commandeer the artifact before the imposter Twilight Sparkle attempts to take it for herself.” “Commandeering is for pirates.” I dunked a pancake in coffee. “The word you’re looking for is ‘steal.’ You’re going to steal Twilight’s magic.” She sighed. “Yes. I’m going to steal Twilight’s magic.” “Quick question,” I asked, deciding that coffee-dunked pancakes was a great way to ruin both pancakes and coffee in one easy motion. “Are you Tirek disguised as a changeling disguised as Tirek or something?” Sugar Belle didn’t even blink. “Not that I know of.” “Alright, good to know. How are you going to steal the sole ruler of Equestria’s special magic trinket full of alicorn juice?” Her horn flickered to life as she laid out a much less-precise sketch of the chart she’d originally had. It looked as though it’d been drawn in multiple different pens that had run out of ink. I snuck a glance at the waste bin. A few writing utensils were smoking suspiciously.  “This is a much rougher map of the Canterlot Castle vault that we’re concerned with. Here’s where I’ll enter the vaults, and here-” She added the frowny-face tin pie that was once a fork. “Is where we think the artifact is.”  I peered at the vent. One of the lines on the side was curvy, and the other was almost nonexistent. “So… how are you going to get out again?” Her muzzle scrunched in a way that I imagined Big Mac found quite endearing. “I’m not entirely sure. It depends, you see, on what happens on the way. If the alarms are already tripped, we’ll go through the main doors, but if they aren’t, we’d want to be stealthier, so as not to alert the fake Twilight to our plans.” “Alright,” I said. It was about as good of a plan as I could reasonably expect from anything that happened in the vicinity of an Element bearer. “What about the real Twilight? Isn’t her life in danger, and all that?” Sugar Belle shrugged. “Only as much danger as she always is. We’ve got age- er, friends already protecting her and making sure she isn’t in more harm’s way than she is just by existing.”  I took a sip of pancake-flavored coffee. “Fair enough. So, when are you going to do all this?” She bit her lip and looked distinctly nervous. “Er, during the Grand Galloping Gala was the plan. There’d be so many ponies wandering around at the time, it’d be the ideal moment for fake Twilight to strike without anypony noticing.”  I settled back in the chair, nodding at nothing in particular. “That makes sense, I suppose. So, need any help with, uh,” I looked at the pens in the trash can. They were still smoking. “Any sort of set-up or something? I’ve got the rest of the day.” I doubted that Rarity would miss me, and the Grand Galloping Gala was in a few days anyway so she’d be busy enough to not really notice I was gone. “Not unless you have Gala tickets,” she said, slumping at the table. “I mean, my fellow a- friends, friends, said that they’d help me break in, but I’d really rather not. There’s so many different things that could go wrong with that part alone, and I’d rather save my luck for the, er, heist itself.” Frowning, I pushed my plate and mug to the side. “Didn’t Big Mac invite you? I’m sure he got some invites, working at the Gala and all.” “I, ah, might have said that I wasn’t going,” she said hesitantly. “I wasn’t planning to attend before learning about all this, and it wouldn’t make sense for me to ask to go now anyway, because he’d want to spend time with me. Of course, I want to spend time with him, but…”  “Not when the fate of Equestria hangs in the balance?” I finished, getting up to stretch. “I get it, I get it. Hey, my sister probably has tickets. I bet I could blackma- er, ask for a couple. She’s a friend of Twilight, she can get more.” Sugar Belle sighed. “Sure, go ahead. It’s definitely worth a shot. Just… don’t mention the whole secret alternate Twilight thing or anything, okay? If Twilight finds out about this, it could put her in even more danger than she already always is.” I chuckled as I made my pancake-stuffed way out the door. “Leave that to me. I’m great at keeping secrets!” > Monochromatic is gonna BAN me from her server for making this a B plot > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- It took all of the guts I had to return to the shop before opening hours. Most of my guts were currently distracted with pancake-related shenanigans, but the few that weren’t busy were roiling in trepidation as I approached Carousel Boutique. Sis might still be previously occupied, after all.  Well, if she was, I couldn’t hear it from outside the Boutique, so I took a deep breath and concentrated on unlocking one of the windows. One of my ears flicked towards the street as I jiggled the latch. Nopony was around, so it wasn’t as though I could be accused of letting other ponies witness two Elements of Harmony hanging out in the same space together. Ponies would talk, after all, and some of their rumors might be accurate. Celestia forbid. A satisfying click announced my success as I awkwardly inched my way through the window, neatly landing in something wet. I looked down, dreading the worst. A few soapy-and-soaking dishes stared back up at me, leaving neat little rings of suds around my hooves. It was my turn to do them. Right.  Well, wasn’t the fate of Equestria more important than dish duty? I’d covered for Rarity when she’d gone off to the four corners of the known world (and a few additional corners I’m sure she made up) for Magical Element Stuff That Is No Concern Of Yours, Sweetie Belle. She could handle them this once, right?  I gently closed the window behind me, only remembering to yank my tail inside at the last moment. Nopony was in the kitchen, which was good, because that meant nopony witnessed me overbalance and topple head-over-hooves onto the floor with a damp splat. All in all, not my worst attempt to sneak in unnoticed. I wiped my hooves on a dish towel before pressing against the wall, flicking one ear upstairs. There was a tense silence, broken by a relieving lack of sounds no sister should hear. It sounded like a quiet conversation, coming from the top of the stairs.  I sighed and shuffled my way across the carpet, pausing only to scoop up my saddlebags from their spot in the middle of the floor. The good news was that it was just a conversation, but the bad news was that, unless Rarity had befriended a ghost or something similarly ridiculous, Twilight Sparkle was probably still there.  It would make blackmailing Rarity that much more difficult if I had to risk getting a friendship lesson on the way. Friendship lessons usually meant an extra half hour, potentially a song, and way more attention than I could afford.  I paused mid-step, one hoof hovering over the first stair as a thought hit me. Blackmailing one pony or the other was too risky, because it’d mean the other would spring to their rescue, but what if I tried to blackmail both of them at once?  As far as plans went, it made about as much sense as everything else in Ponyville: absolutely none but still somehow worth a shot. I reached the landing and paraded into my sister’s room with all the confidence of somepony who hadn’t seen her sister dressing up the ruler of Equestria in things she’d consider “too unladylike to sell in her shop.”  “I have a request to make,” I announced, averting my eyes from anywhere they could potentially be cuddling a bit too close for comfort. Considering one had wings, both had horns, and Rarity had creativity down to a science that Twilight would be happy to lecture my ears off about, there wasn’t any area I could rule out, but after some frantic darting about my gaze landed on the two mares curled up on Rarity’s bed. Thankfully, they just seemed to be reading a book together.  “Oh, Sweetie Belle,” began Rarity, but then paused, a puzzled frown slowly overtaking her expression. Apparently, even her extensive etiquette training hadn’t quite prepared her for dealing with this exact level of familial awkwardness.  “It’s... good to see you?” Tried Twilight, stretching a wing stiffly. “Sorry about earlier, we’re just a bit worried about ponies seeing us together, and you gave us a bit of a startle and-” “You don’t need to apologize, dearest!” Rarity admonished gently, before turning to fix me with a glare I knew all too well. “Sweetie Belle, you know we’d prefer if you don’t bother us while we’re spending time together.” She gave a weak laugh. “Just like I know you prefer that I don’t bother you when the other Crusaders are visiting.”  Guilt redirection was not what I needed. I tried again. “I live here too, you know. It’s not my fault I walked in on you two… doing… uck, I don’t want to think about it. I was actually hoping that I might be able to get a few Grand Galloping Gala tickets. Is it too late to, ah…”  “Really, Sweetie Belle? The tickets have been sold out for over a year! Ever since Photo Finish announced that chaotic disruption was in and calm, orderly events were out of style, we’ve been falling over ourselves to coordinate enough room for all the ponies already attending the Gala!” Rarity took a breath and fanned herself with a bookmark. “Why, Twilight and I have had to open up most of the castle itself just to have enough room for the guests!”  Twilight shrugged and turned a page absentmindedly, leaning against my sister’s withers. “It’s true. This has been about the only time we’ve gotten to relax in between getting everything ready and Rarity’s Get-It-Before-The-Gala lineup. It is good to see you, of course, but as it stands we’ve only got a couple of hours left before I need to be back in Canterlot and Rarity’s got to get the last of her last-minute orders sent to each of her businesses.”  I scowled and scuffed my hoof against the plush carpet, which, predictably, had far less effect than my dramatic moment required. “You threw me out of the house. Nopony would’ve noticed if you’d just told me to go to my room, but you tossed me into the street! A whole bunch of ponies probably saw me leave. I’m just asking for a favor in return for not making a scene then.”  Twilight blinked. Rarity’s jaw dropped slightly, but I wasn’t done. I turned to the curled-up Princess as the reality of the situation slowly dawned on my sister. “I’m sure you’ve got two measly extra tickets somewhere, right? You’re the Princess of Friendship! I’d be out of both of your manes if you’d just let me go, and you wouldn’t have to worry about me complaining to Spike or anypony else about how you let my sister chuck me out the door like a day-old bag of turnips!”  “Sweetie Belle,” sputtered Rarity. “You can’t-” I decided to use the ace up my sleeve. “I can. If you don’t, I’ll tell Mom that you threw me out the front door because you’re spending time with your secret marefriend. And I’m sure she’d have plenty of questions about that.” If she could’ve, I bet Rarity would’ve paled at the thought. Our mother was well-meaning, but had a fantastic habit of getting into our personal business the moment anypony’d so much as hint something interesting was going on.  Twilight, however, still looked on the fence about it, so I decided to sweeten the deal. “I’ll even make sure Rarity’s orders get delivered before the Gala, so she can spend a bit more time with you, and I’ll stay over at a friend’s house so you two can do whatever you want without having to worry that I’ll walk in!”  Rarity looked at Twilight. Twilight looked at Rarity. A wordless conversation passed between the two, the sort that only lovers and siblings on the brink of murder could have. After a couple of tense moments passed, the Princess of Friendship let out a defeated sigh. Her horn sparked, and for a second I thought she’d banish me to Tartarus for daring to blackmail the ruler of Equestria, but just as I was wondering if my saddlebags would come with me, a scroll appeared in front of my hooves. “Did you need a personalized invitation, or will just the tickets work?” Twilight as Rarity brushed a hoof against her mane consolingly.  “That’s perfect, thanks!” I chirped, tucking the scroll into my bag as I started to back out of the room.  “Oh, and Sweetie Belle?” Called Rarity, a tired crease to her brow as she tucked herself against her marefriend. “The boxes are downstairs. Do make sure they go to the correct boutique, alright? I’ll be up here, and if you have any questions, I’d appreciate it if you bother literally anypony else, alright darling?”  I rolled my eyes. Mission accomplished. “Anything you say, sis. Enjoy your break!” My good mood lasted all the way until I reached the bottom of the stairs. > Taking things as they come, then dumping them on somepony else’s doorstep for them to deal with! > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- “Sure, I’ll deliver your few remaining orders, Rarity! Me and my big mouth. What do I look like, a postal worker? I’m not even a pegasus!” I scrunched up my muzzle as I marched in circles around the latest problem I’d given myself. Why was nothing ever easy? “But hey, whatever. I’ve only got to prepare for the Gala last-minute and go on some ridiculous heist for a best-friend’s-sister-in-law. It’s not like I mind a detour to…” The boxes were stacked nearly to the ceiling of the Boutique, but the labels were easy enough to read. Twilight must’ve written them. “What? Canterlot and… Manehatten? I don’t have time for that! Nopony has time for that!” Well, technically, I sort of did. The Gala was in three days. I could theoretically get to Manehatten and then from Manehatten to Canterlot in that amount of time if I took the train and if there were no delays… so that meant that there’d be some stupid delay, because nothing could ever be that easy for me, could it? The post office would take too long. I’d never been to Manehatten before, let alone by myself. The thought didn’t frighten me so much as it vaguely concerned me in a way that would look like panic to the casual observer.  Oh, duh! Who said I had to do the thing I said I’d do??? Clearly, I’d need backup. Fast backup. Strong backup. Backup who wouldn’t question why I’d gotten myself into this mess in the first place, or question my self-preservation instinct. Most importantly, I’d need somepony willing to go to ridiculous lengths to get something done. There was no question in my mind, though a few doubts gave muffled protests from where I’d locked them away. I’d need the best backup anypony could ever ask for.  I’d need Scootaloo. Leaving the packages in their inconveniently-tall tower (Seriously, Rarity. Why? Did she just like the drama of the giant stack?), I trotted out the door, silencing the pleasant bell as I did so. If Rarity knew I’d left already, she and Twilight might start doing things again, and that was the last thing I wanted to walk back in on.  Everypony seemed to have decided that today was a fantastic day for a picnic. I vaguely wondered what they all did for a living, if they could spend all this time outside instead of stuck inside doing boring stuff, but then I remembered. Right. I’d gotten a mark in what amounted to cutie mark therapy. I didn’t really have room to judge. I trotted towards Scootaloo’s house, grateful as I usually was that she couldn’t fly enough to live in a pegasus cloud house, and subsequently slightly guilty that I was happy about it. Traditions, you know? The windows were dark, but that didn’t mean anything in particular. Her parents travelled an awful lot, and she kept a lot of the lights off when she wasn’t using them. Something about an “electricity bill?”  When I’d asked why she couldn’t just make more lightning to power the house, she’d said lightbulbs didn’t work like that. I’d asked how cloud houses worked, then, since there were no wires up in the sky. She said I was “being difficult” and that that “wasn’t even the point.” Ah, good times. “Scoooooooootaloooooooo,” I called out as I smacked against the door. Huh. It wasn’t usually locked. Had she not left the house yet? I pulled back a corner of the faded doormat - it said “Wipe your Wings!”, which always disturbed me for some reason - and snagged the spare house key. Opening the door, I resumed my friendly yelling.  “Scoots? It’s me! Where are you?” I frowned into the dark house. “Did you oversleep or something?”  Probably in her room, then. I stumbled against the stairs as I climbed my way towards her bedroom. “Come on, I need your help with something! It’ll only take a few days, I promise!”  Her door creaked open, and I peered inside. Wonderbolt memorabilia was plastered against every wall, layered over itself until it sagged a little. Assorted plushies and pillows, mostly Rainbow-Dash-themed and many hoof-stitched, lined her bookshelves and the edge of her desk. Even her bed had Wonderbolt-branded sheets! Some things, she’d never grown out of.  The sheets were rumpled into a heap against the wall, but I didn’t see a Scootaloo-shaped outline beneath them. I tackled them to make sure, of course, but nope, no sleepy pegasus. My nose twitched as I picked myself up off the bed and re-made the sheets into the disaster pile they’d been. “Fine,” I grumped. “Where are you, then? It’s before noon!” Brushing a thin layer of dust off the desk, I slouched into her uncomfortable pegasus-built chair. Stupid wing-holes.  I sneezed, then reconsidered both the sneeze and my last few thoughts. Dust? Uh oh. Dust never had time to settle in her room! She must’ve been gone for a couple of days at least for all the stuff her wings kept blowing up into the air to drift back down! I looked at the clean line my hoof had traced on her desk, then at the sheet of paper next to it. Ah, a note! I picked it up, snorting at the small cloud of dust that billowed once again into the air, and began to read. Sweetie Belle- Sorry for not telling ya, but I’m helping Apple Bloom with the Gala stuff. She said she really needed it, and for some reason she thought I’d be the best pony to help her. No clue why she didn’t ask you. Maybe she wanted a pegasus? She knows I can’t fly, right? She was real weird flustered happy when I said yes, though. Will probably keep you updated. No secrets between besties, right? Not going to be back for a while. Keep helping ponies if they ask. I’ll cover for you later if you need a break or something. And I swear, if you clean my room again when I’m gone, I’ll start a tornado in yours. I’m serious! It’s my mess! Go make your own! Also, my parents said to stop breaking into our house. They told me to move the spare key, but they didn’t say not to hide a second one where I usually keep it! They say you’re “a good influence with some problum problimat prob weird quirks,” though, so I don’t think they’re really THAT mad about it.  Probably. -Scootaloo I grimaced as I set down the note. Great. She’d be of absolutely no help whatsoever. It was a pity, really. She was so clueless sometimes, which was ideal when we had dumb ideas that needed ponies to not question anything. That… happened a disturbing amount, actually, even after we’d gotten our cutie marks.  So she wasn’t an option. That was fine! There was plenty of time left to figure out how to deliver everything and then pull off a heist. I had, what, 42 hours left before the Gala? That’d be more than enough, so long as I didn’t have to do it all myself. I’d need a plan, I’d need somepony else, I’d need- “WHO THE BUCK ARE YOU? I’M CALLIN’ THE COPS!” … whatever I needed, being arrested wasn’t quite it.