The Dressmaker's Punishment
Rejected Pony Fic Idea #74
In which Rarity is the Punisher for some reason.
The Dressmaker’s Punishment
By Supermunchor
Sweetie Belle dove for cover behind a heavy wooden table. The entire room had fallen victim to a massive, deadly tornado of fabric, needles, and mannequins. Several sharp pins thudded into the table, some just managing to poke through. Sweetie Belle’s eyes widened as she realized that one of the pins was barely an inch from her ear. She curled up against the floor, praying to Celestia that the swirling terror would soon be over.
“It’s... marvelous!”
Sweetie Belle cracked one eye and perked up an ear. The screaming winds had fallen silent, and colored cloth no longer flew past her vision. Was it safe? There was only one way to find out.
“Sis?” she asked, slowly poking her head over the table, bracing herself for the visual onslaught of chaos.
But it never came. Instead of a war-torn boutique, Sweetie Belle laid eyes on the most beautiful dress ever to grace the wardrobe of even the richest of ponies. It flowed across the mannequin like a crystal stream flows serenely down the grassy mountainside, perfectly complementing the soft green grass, the homely brown earth, and the vivid red wildflowers at its borders. The wooden statue upon which the dress resided looked nearly as radiant at the Princess of the Sun herself.
Starry-eyed, Sweetie Belle tore her gaze away from the paradigm of splendor in front of her and looked towards her sister.
“Rarity... It’s beautiful!” she exclaimed.
Rarity turned towards Sweetie Belle and, wrapping them in magic, carefully set her red glasses on the head of an unused mannequin.
“Beautiful...” Rarity mused. “Beautiful scarcely begins to describe it, Sweetie Belle.”
Sweetie Belle could easily forgive Rarity’s arrogance for one reason: her sister spoke the truth.
“We’re going to make a fortune, Sweetie Belle,” Rarity intoned softly. “When Sapphire Shores lays her eyes on this...”
Sweetie Belle was silent, awestruck still by the elegance of Rarity’s creation, and by the prospect of imminent wealth. She’d dreamed of being rich, and buying her own toys, her own games, her own penthouse suites. It seemed as though her sister’s infatuation with the high life was rubbing off on her.
“This calls for a celebration.”
__________________________________________________________________________
Pinkie Pie had really outdone herself this time. Streamers, balloons, cakes of every color, flavor, and shape, literal mountains of cupcakes, swimming pools of punch, and bags full of party favors covered almost all of Ponyville. The town had never before seen such a party, and thanks to Rarity fully funding the entire thing, Pinkie Pie was able to break dozens of Equestrian Party Records, including Biggest Party in a Small Town, Most Punch, and Highest Cupcake Tower. Ponies had travelled from Appleloosa, Manehattan, Fillydelphia, and even Canterlot to attend this celebration of the pony who was, without a doubt, the greatest dressmaker Equestria had ever known.
Rarity was at the center of both the party and the attention. She took it all in stride, conversing with numerous ponies at once about her plans for taking the dressmaking industry into a new age.
“Congratulations, Rarity!” Twilight Sparkle greeted her with a smile as she held a glass of punch in the grasp of her magic. “You really are an amazing dressmaker.”
“Thank you, darling!” Rarity gave her friend a quick hug.
“Boy, howdy, sugarcube!” Applejack’s rustic accent sounded in her left ear. “That there’s a dress even Ah would wear, no questions asked!”
“Why, thank you, Applejack!” Rarity smiled.
“Great job, Rarity! Always knew ya were born fer success!”
Rarity recognized her father’s voice instantly. She turned to embrace him and her mother, who stood at his side.
“Mom! Dad! You made it!” she exclaimed excitedly.
Her father chuckled. “Wouldn’t’a missed it fer the world, Rarity!”
As Rarity released her father, she felt a cold shiver run down her spine.
__________________________________________________________________________
Down in the pleasant valley, the entire population of the small country town partied to their hearts’ content, unaware of the fact that they were being watched. Just outside Ponyville, fifteen mares, dressed in skin-tight black fabric, stood atop the highest vantage point they could find. Their black-masked faces surveyed the town with hardened eyes as they shifted their saddlebags in preparation for the task at hand. The targets were down there, blissfully ignorant of their imminent doom. That would be simple. Infiltrating the town, however, would be significantly more difficult.
“Gracious! Just look at all of you!” a cultured voice shouted from behind.
The mares turned to see a pure-white unicorn with a flowing purple mane and tail standing in front of them. Target No.1.
“When I felt my fashion sense tingle, I knew something was wrong, but I had no idea it was this bad!” the unicorn said, half to herself. “I simply must get you all back to my shop immediately!”
The mares looked at each other. Perhaps this would be easier than they first thought.
__________________________________________________________________________
“Make a path, ponies!” Rarity yelled as she led the group of mares to her boutique. “We have a fashion emergency on our hands!”
The ponies hastily cantered out of Rarity’s way, a bit of panic spurring them on. Once they had taken a moment to decipher the situation, however, they broke out into raucous cheers. Rarity truly was the Element of Generosity.
The fifteen mares were paraded into Carousel Boutique, each wearing a rather dumbfounded look on her face. They stood still as Rarity measured them in more ways than they knew ponies could be measured. Once the dressmaker had finished writing down all the numbers, she turned to the mares.
“Now, normally I wouldn’t allow a customer to be in public wearing such dreadful clothing, but I can’t possibly ask you to miss Pinkie’s party,” Rarity smiled kindly. “Run along, dearies, your dresses will be done in the blink of an eye!” She shooed them hurriedly out of the boutique, excited to get to work.
Once outside the shop, the mare in charge motioned to her comrades. Phase One was complete. Phase Two was about to begin.
__________________________________________________________________________
“Finished!” Rarity exclaimed, placing her needle and thread down on her work desk. She surveyed the room. Fifteen mannequins stood scattered about, each sporting a different, vibrantly-colored creation. None of these dresses were of quite the same caliber as her most recent work, but they were wondrous nonetheless.
Rarity strode over to her favorite couch and threw herself onto it. Fifteen dresses was no small feat for a single mare, and she had accomplished it in a mere hour. She deserved at least a minute of rest.
Her minute, however, was short-lived in light of the horrid predicament she must have left those poor mares in. If she were in their position, she couldn’t bear to spend one more minute in those dreadful clothes! There was no time to waste.
As she approached the front door, Rarity noticed that the sounds of the once-raucous party had faded. It must’ve died down after she left. Hopefully, the mares would be waiting outside the door.
Rarity threw open the door, smiling broadly as she proclaimed to anypony listening, “Live no longer in fear, everypony! The fashion crisis has been…”
She trailed off as her eyes took in the scene before her. Fires burned in the streets, consuming the humble homes of the denizens of Ponyville. The dirt of the road was mingled with an ominous, dark liquid. Several smashed cupcakes littered the ground, surrounded by the splintered remnants of the table that had once held them. Rarity felt her heart skip several beats.
“… Averted?” She took a step back in fear. “Oh, no, no, no, NO!”
Fear for the safety of her friends overpowered her terror of the scene, and Rarity flew through the streets at a full gallop, looking left and right for any sign of Twilight, or Fluttershy, or Applejack, or any of her friends, praying to Celestia that they might, against all odds, still be safe.
Bloodied lumps lay strewn along her path. Rarity glanced just long enough to be sure that her friends were not among them, quickly cringing away in disgust when their colors were unfamiliar. She had to blink away the tears that filled her eyes, forcing back the revulsion she felt towards the bodies, and the guilt she felt at denying them help. But she knew there was no hope for them. They were unnaturally still, and Rarity was no medical pony.
“Twilight!” she called as she raced through the town. “Pinkie Pie! Anypony! Where are you?!”
The main square was, if at all possible, much worse than the rest of Ponyville. Deep ruts had been dug into the earth by violent explosions, hurling shredded limbs and organs across the plaza. The demolished fountain somehow continued to spurt bursts of red-tainted water into the sky.
Rarity’s gait faltered as she came upon the scene. Who could do such a thing?
Two bodies, lying in a crumpled heap beside the fountain, caught her gaze. She knew what she would find, but she didn’t want to believe it.
“Rainbow Dash?” Rarity asked softly. “Applejack?”
There was no answer. She reached out gently to nudge them awake, praying that they might just be sleeping, or knocked out, or…
Rarity gasped as the bodies rolled over, exposing two gaping, red slashes across their chests. Dried blood crusted the edges of numerous smaller cuts, and their hooves, though unmarked, were stained dark red. They’d gone down fighting. Together.
She felt a surge of pride as she noticed the mangled bodies of eight mares clothed in black splayed on the ground around them. There was no doubt in Rarity’s mind; it was these mares who had attacked Ponyville. To see them lying dead gave her a sadistic feeling of rapture. They deserved nothing more than this.
“Celestia grant you peace, my friends. Wherever you are,” Rarity prayed softly, turning her friends’ bodies to hide their wounds.
Rarity set off to find the rest of her friends. She could not hope that they were alive, but this lack of hope drove off all fear, replacing it only with an overbearing sense of duty.
After a few minutes, it became clear that her friends were not in the square. Rarity began to make her way towards the Library. Twilight would’ve stepped in as leader once the attack began, and naturally, she would have led everypony to the Library, the place she was most comfortable.
Along her way, Rarity caught sight of a trail of blood leading away from the path. She followed it into a dark alleyway, where she found a pale yellow body tinged with red. It was curled in a fetal position, and a deep cut traced its way across its throat. Rarity felt her anger rise. They had killed Fluttershy in cold blood.
But her rage could wait. She held it back for now, once again heading to the Library. Rarity observed that a deathly hush hung over the town; the hustle and bustle of life was gone, the birds were silent, even the wind forbore to whistle between the close-knit houses as it once had done. It was as if the entire earth sat in silent vigil for the lives that had been lost.
The Library loomed ahead of her, looking oddly foreboding in the fading light. The sunset washed over the tree, flooding the leaves with a hint of red that perfectly matched the bloodied streets. Rarity silently cursed her dressmaker’s mind for coming to such a conclusion.
With a loud creak, the door to the Library opened. If she hadn’t become so desensitized by the gruesome scenes she had already witnessed, Rarity would have gasped at the state of the main room of the Library. Torn, bloodstained books coated the floor, bookshelves had been toppled, and the windows were smeared with red. Once again, she scanned the crumpled bodies, searching for her remaining friends.
Rarity noticed with a shudder a patch of bright pink, barely visible beneath the dark stains that blotted out nearly all of its natural color. She took a step towards it before recoiling in sheer disgust. There was no body connected to the patch of pink. Whatever had happened to Pinkie Pie, Rarity no longer desired to find out.
“uhhng...” Rarity heard a faint moan coming from the stairwell. She raced towards it, desperate to find somepony, anypony who was still alive.
“Who’s there?” called Rarity as she came near to the source of the voice. “Oh, please still be alive...”
“R-Rarity?” asked the voice softly. “Rarity, you’re alive!” it exclaimed, before breaking into a fit of coughing.
“Twilight?” Rarity could scarcely believe her eyes. Twilight Sparkle lay before her, soaking in a pool of her own blood. Wounded, but alive.
“Oh, thank Celestia, Rarity!” Twilight smiled bitter-sweetly at her friend. “I... I thought they had killed everypony. I’m so glad you’re alive!”
“Now, Twilight, don’t overexert yourself. We need to get you to a hospital!” Rarity began to lift Twilight with her magic.
“No, Rarity,” Twilight sighed. “It’s too late for me. Besides, there’s no hospital for miles.”
Rarity could feel panic pressing on her. She shook it off; now was the time for action, not fear.
“Don’t be silly, dear, you’re going to be just fine,” she said, still holding Twilight aloft. Something, however, kept her from heading towards a hospital. Perhaps the thick stream of blood that began to pour from Twilight’s flank.
“Oh, Rarity,” Twilight laughed quietly. “You never were one to give up on your friends. But don’t worry about me.”
“Twi, this is--”
“I can see it, Rarity.”
“See what, darling?” Rarity was taken aback by the abruptness of the statement.
“Celestia’s great Pasture in the sky,” Twilight stared off into the distance. “It’s wonderful, Rarity. There’s green grass as far as I can see. And fresh daisies, and buttercups--”
“No, Twi, don’t!” Rarity felt a tear roll down her cheek.
“It’s more beautiful than I ever imagined. Oh, and look! There’s my grandparents!”
“Twilight, no!” Rarity cried. “You... You can’t leave me like this!”
“You’ll be alright, Rarity,” Twilight assured her. “All of our friends are there. They’re waiting for me.”
“Twilight, please!”
“We’ll always be watching over you, Rarity. We love you so very much. And wouldn’t you know it? There’s a library up there, Rarity,” Twilight sounded almost ecstatic. “It’s so much bigger than mine, and I bet there are loads of books that I haven’t read yet!”
Rarity began to sob quietly into Twilight’s mane.
“Don’t cry, Rarity. We’ll see you soon enough.”
“Twilight...” whispered Rarity. “Please... Stay here with me for just a while longer...”
But the mare had fallen silent. Rarity lowered her body slowly to the ground and stood up, tears falling from her eyes into Twilight’s coat. She wiped the streams from her face. There was nothing she could do for Twilight, and she had another pony to find. Oh, Celestia, if she lost her...
A trail of blood led up the stairs and into Twilight’s bedroom. Rarity followed the trail up and opened the door, steeling herself to face what she would find.
Rarity took one glance at the room and nearly wretched. More bodies were piled here, nearly reaching the ceiling. But these... these were foals! Dead, mutilated bodies of foals, some of whom could not have been old enough to attend school! How could anypony do such a terrible thing?
Forcing herself against all better judgement, Rarity stepped slowly towards the mound of dead foals. As gruesome a sight it was, she had to know. She had to find out. Wrapping the bodies in her magic, Rarity began to sort through them, fearful of what she might find. It made her sick to disrespect the memory of these poor foals, to treat them as nothing more than a disheveled mess beneath which lay the fabric she sought. But she had no choice.
Soon, a splash of purest white amongst the blood caught her eye. At first, Rarity denied the possibility, though she knew full well it was there. She just couldn’t believe it…
Until her search uncovered the head attached to the white. A unicorn filly, with a beautiful, two-toned, curling mane…
Sweetie Belle.
Her sister.
Rarity felt as though her heart would wither up and die. Sweetie Belle… Rarity had watched her grow from a tiny foal, just learning how to stand, into the excitable, if a little ditzy, filly she had been in life. She remembered her sister’s first words, her first day of school, her first magic. Those had been Rarity’s happiest days, when the two of them could rejoice with the purest love of sisters in the little filly’s accomplishments. Tears began to well up in her eyes as the memories came flying past.
Then came the thoughts of Sweetie Belle’s future. She was so young… She hadn’t even discovered her special talent, though everypony else knew what it was. Rarity had spent many late nights awake, planning Sweetie Belle’s cute-ceñeara. She had even stitched her sister a simple, yet elegant dress just for the occasion. It had never occurred to her that the day would never arrive…
Rarity would never get to see her sister fulfill her calling, taking her perfect voice across Equestria to thousands of her adoring fans, come to hear their favorite song by the young artist. She would have been famous…
But now…
Rarity let her tears flow as she held her sister’s body close, wishing she had done so more often in life. She wished there was more time…
Night had fallen before Rarity put a stop to her mourning. She could do nothing for these ponies but lay them to rest. With a heavy sigh, she got to her feet and began her miserable task.
__________________________________________________________________________
Brilliant flames from the Library pierced the black of the night, casting an eerie glow over the bloodied streets of Ponyville. Rarity held back tears as she walked back to Carousel Boutique. After everything that had been lost today, it was only fitting that she turn the Library into a massive funeral pyre. When it finished burning, she would have to set up a tombstone to make sure the ponies who had died would never be forgotten.
BOOM!!
Rarity jumped in shock. When she searched the area, she saw that a gaping hole had been blown in the roof of Carousel Boutique, and grim flames swarmed around the still-standing walls. She galloped towards her shop with every ounce of speed she had, bursting through the doors and leaping over the flaming debris that had once been her roof. The destroyed ceiling showcased a full moon, the light of which was invisible in comparison with the gleam of fire.
Rarity raced to the other side of the room. She entered the doorway to her bedroom, scanning the burning walls. It had to be okay. Oh, Celestia, it had to...
Sweetie Belle’s drawing. It hung on Rarity’s wall right beside her bed, allowing her to look at it every night. It always reminded her to treat Sweetie Belle right, even though she could be annoying at times. She remembered scorning the picture at first, angry because her sister had glued her entire stock of baby blue sapphires. Now, it had become her most treasured possession.
And the flames had already reached the bottom edge.
“No!” cried Rarity, watching in horror as the fire licked at the paper, turning it steadily to ash. Several sapphires clattered to the floor, the only remnants of Rarity’s one item to remember her sister by.
She felt something inside her mind snap. Every emotion was gone, replaced with a blank calm. She had, in a few hours, lost her town, her home, her friends, her family, and her mind. And yet, no sadness. No pain. Rarity could not remember what suffering felt like. Despair was as a wisp of cloud, unable to be caught by her hooves. But she knew that she had suffered. She knew that ponies had been murdered. And such a deed could not go unpunished.
Rarity walked serenely into her main dressmaking room, the full moon still glowing above. It was only fitting that her last creation be forged in these flames, and used to instill terror into the very ponies responsible. Most of her fabric had been destroyed in the fire, but there was enough left for this.
__________________________________________________________________________
“Welcome to the Manehattan Inn and Suites, Madam,” the old stallion at the front desk asked as Rarity entered the lobby. “Would you like a room? Breakfast is complimentary.”
Rarity admired the way the stallion kept his professional demeanor in this situation. She had garnered several horrified looks from ponies in the streets. She knew that they, like this well-mannered stallion, were eyeing her newly made garment. It was a simple piece, just a tight-fitting tee. Black, with a narrow, white skull sewn onto the front. While skulls had become fashionable among misunderstood griffon teens, the style had never made it to Equestria, mostly because of the love of peace that ponies held dear.
Rarity looked deep into the old stallion’s eyes. “Yes, darling, a room would be simply divine.”
The stallion grabbed a key in his mouth and motioned for Rarity to follow him. He led her down a dark, unwelcoming hall, stopping at a particularly unsightly door. Room 106. He unlocked the room and allowed Rarity inside.
“I believe you’ll find everything to be suitable. You have a bed, a washroom, and all the basic necessities,” he stated. “If you require anything else, please, don’t hesitate to ask. Good day, Madam.”
Rarity thanked him and promptly flopped onto the bed. It was a long walk from Ponyville to Manehattan, and there was nothing else to do at the moment. She had formulated what little of her plan that she could on the journey, and she would prefer to get a good sleep before putting it into motion.
Rarity awoke just before dawn the next morning. She enjoyed the room’s hot shower and would have spent hours under the steaming flow, but the water turned ice cold after half an hour. She quickly turned the faucet off, dried herself, and ventured out to the lobby for breakfast.
The lobby was empty. Most ponies were still asleep, so Rarity got first pick of the hot breakfast. It seemed that the food and reception stallion were the only classy things this rundown old hotel had. Filling a platter with oatmeal pancakes and daisy syrup, Rarity found herself a seat near the back, away from the flow of ponies that would undoubtedly arrive soon.
“Ain’t seen you ‘round these parts,” said a voice.
Rarity looked up to see a teenage unicorn stallion, his long, unkempt green mane covering the numerous piercings and gauges that covered his jet black face and body.
“Where you from?”
Dark images rushed through her head. Her eyes glazed over as she relived her walk through the streets, death and blood surrounding her...
Rarity shook her head to clear her mind. “Ponyville,” she replied calmly.
“Ponyville?” the stallion repeated. “Been there a few times. Nice place.”
“Yes, I suppose it is.” If news hadn’t spread yet, she wasn’t going to be the one to start it.
“Name’s Body Pierce,” the stallion held out a hoof. Rarity shook it and introduced herself.
“Body Pierce?” she asked. “Any relation to Pokey Pierce?”
“Yeah, he’s muh cousin,” answered Body. “How’s he doin’?”
“Not well, I’m afraid,” replied Rarity. “I hate to be the one to tell you, but he’s dead.”
Body Pierce was silent for a moment. “Shame. He was a good guy.”
“Indeed, he was,” Rarity said softly.
The pair was quiet for a minute. Rarity took the time to eat her pancakes, while Body sat in a thoughtful daze. Finally, he spoke.
“Well, since you’re new ‘round here, I could show you ‘round town.”
Rarity looked at the stallion. She did not normally socialize with these types, and she did not desire to begin now.
“Unless you can tell me where I can gain access to firearms, explosives, or other weaponry, I shall have to regretfully pass on that offer,” Rarity doubted that the stallion was the type to run to the police.
His reaction was somewhat atypical. Rarity would have expected a normal pony to widen their eyes in fear, or gallop off. Then again, Body Pierce didn’t seem to mind her shirt. He looked around nervously, then stood up.
“‘Fraid I can’t help you with that,” he said. “Gotta go serve breakfast. See you ‘round.”
Rarity finished her pancakes and returned to the breakfast buffet. Cursing herself for such blatant disregard of her figure, she grabbed a bowl and filled it with oats, lettuce, carrots, apples, and bananas, and made herself a nice salad. Having nothing better to do, she returned to her seat and watched the other ponies eat their breakfasts, and occasionally, shoot her nasty looks.
Soon enough, the rest of the patrons had vacated the lobby, on to bigger and better things in the sprawling city. Rarity, however, remained seated. She considered returning to her room, but she couldn’t help thinking that she would accomplish so much more walking through dark alleys in search of shady characters.
“This the one?” a female voice wrested Rarity from her thoughts.
“Yup. That’s her,” Body Pierce replied.
“Doesn’t look the type,” commented the female voice.
“Not the type to snitch, though,” said Body Pierce.
Rarity looked up at the pair, eyeing the new pony with a veiled curiosity. She was a pure white unicorn, with a long, scarlet mane and tail, accented by a bright green stripe down the middle.
“May I help you?” Rarity asked the mare.
“My friend here tells me you need weapons,” the mare stated.
Rarity was suspicious. “Maybe. Who’s asking?”
The white mare held out her hoof. “Venom. Nice to meet you. Now, are you looking for weapons or no?”
Rarity shook Venom’s hoof, still a little wary. “Rarity. Charmed. And yes, I am.”
“Well, you’re in luck,” replied Venom. “Body Pierce here told me about you, and I believe I can help you out.”
“How so?”
“Come with us; I’ll take you to see the best in the business.”
Rarity followed her two new acquaintances out into the streets of Manehattan. They led her through the crowds of ponies, around the traffic, and down several back roads. None of them spoke, treading their paths in silence.
They passed an enormous billboard with a picture of a fancy, haughty-looking stallion bearing an advertisement. “New Line of Hoity Toity Dresses to Hit Stores This Week!” Beside the stallion was a group of unrealistically proportioned mares wearing an assortment of poorly fashioned dresses. Rarity looked at them in utter disgust. The stitching on the dresses seemed oddly familiar…
“We’re here,” said Venom abruptly. “Wait out here; Body and I will prepare him for you.”
Rarity nodded. The pair of vagrants pushed open a large steel door and stepped into the dark room. As Rarity stood outside, she thought about how best to approach this mysterious arms dealer. She didn’t have any bits on her. This could prove a significant problem, but perhaps she could work out a deal with him.
The door reopened, revealing Venom’s face. “Come in.”
Rarity stepped through the door into the darkness. As the door swung shut, a single light bulb hanging from a fraying wire buzzed to life, revealing a large, brown stallion with a short, black mane and piercing blue eyes. He looked at Rarity, gathering whatever information her appearance had to tell him.
“Miss Rarity,” he spoke with a deep, rustic voice. “Ah’ve been told yer lookin’ fer weaponry of any kind.”
“Yes, that’s right, Mr…?” Rarity broke off, not knowing the stallion’s name.
“Buck Shot. Now, Ah got a few things here ‘n’ there. Whatcha get depends on how much yer willin’ t’pay,” the stallion said. “Whaddya need this stuff fer? Ah don’ sell t’jess anypony. Somepony owe ya money? Vengeance? Are ya on some kinda ‘mission from Celestia?’”
“Vengeance, I suppose,” answered Rarity softly.
“What fer? Somepony steal yer stallion? Rob yer business? Beat ya in chess?”
“They ruined my livelihood, burned my hometown, and murdered every citizen, including my entire family and every friend I’ve ever had.”
Buck Shot’s eyes opened wide in surprise, while Venom and Body Pierce gasped audibly. “Well… Ah’ll tell yer what. Whatever ya need, Ah’ll give it to ya free o’charge. Ah may be an arms dealer, but ole Buck Shot’s got a heart o’gold. Story like yers don’ come ‘round too often. ‘Ere, lemme show ya what Ah got in th’ back.”
He led Rarity through a maze of hallways, passing chained doors and empty rooms. She knew she would stand no chance of making it back on her own; the passageway was far too confusing. A suspicious stain on the wall grabbed her attention for a brief spell, until the pair had passed it completely.
“Come on in, lemme show ya what I got,” Buck Shot said, unlocking a heavy door protected by steel rods. The door opened with a creak, revealing a massive room filled with weapons of every variety. Rarity raised an eyebrow at the vast collection. How did this pony keep all of these things hidden?
Buck Shot directed Rarity’s gaze towards a table of guns. Pointing at one, he began to tell her about it.
“Now, this ‘ere is a Luna-grade assault rifle. Made from th’ finest o’metals, guaranteed t’hold up under most any circumstances,” he looked at the shining weapon with respect. “Ah can’t tell ya how long Ah been usin’ a gun like this, and it ain’t never got jammed or misfired or nothin’. Eeyup, Luna-grade guns are th’best in Equestria. Outclass them old Pegasus-grade rifles by a long shot, pun intended.”
“Luna-grade, you say?” asked Rarity. “What about Celestia-grade? I expect that would be much more powerful.”
Buck Shot laughed heartily. “Naw, only Canterlot’s nuclear warheads are Celestia-grade. Not even Ah’d touch one o’them: s’too dangerous. Fetch a fortune, Ah reckon, but what good is money if’n ya get blown t’bits th’ next day, eh?”
Rarity laughed along with him, albeit a bit nervously, once she realized her mistake.
“You bein’ a unicorn an’ all, firin’ these things’ll be no problem fer ya,” Buck Shot continued his discourse. “But Ah wouldn’ recommend ya take more’n one. Ain’ exactly th’ lightest things in th’ world, an’ yer travellin’ on foot an’ all.”
“Yes, of course,” replied Rarity. “Just one would be quite enough.”
“Well then, ain’t nothin’ better’n this ‘ere Luna-grade,” Buck Shot passed her the weapon, which she slung across her back using her magic. “Ah take it ya need more’n jess’ a gun, right?”
Rarity pondered the thought for a moment. “What do you have in the way of explosives?”
Buck Shot smiled. “Ah like yer taste, Miss Rarity. Right this way, if’n ya don’ mind.”
The explosives table was on the far side of the room. Rarity could make neither heads nor tails of any of the devices here. She eyed the various explosives with great interest.
“Ah, ya like these, eh?” observed Buck Shot. “Thought ya might. Stable plastic explosives. Bes’ range o’ explodey things yer ever gonna find. Never goes off without yer say-so, and th’ trigger c’n activate from o’er three miles away.”
“Are they powerful, then?”
“By Celestia’s mane, they are!” Buck Shot looked rather incredulously at Rarity. “Jess’ one o’these c’n take out a room this size! Or, if’n ya don’ wan’ such a big blast, ya c’n cut it up with a knife an’ have a ton o’li’l blasts! Ah tell ya, ain’ no tool more useful’n a block o’this stuff.”
“It would seem so,” Rarity could feel her plans coming together in her head. “How does the trigger work?”
Buck Shot’s eyes lit up. “Well, Ah like to consider this ‘ere trigger t’be mah greates’ creation. She’s got a standard trigger button, o’course, but Ah took th’ liberty o’addin’ a couple other types. There’s a timed trigger, a distance-activated trigger, some fer light, sound, ‘n’ motion, a dead pony switch fer them sticky situations, an’ a time-released disolve trigger. If’n ya can think of a way ya wanna blow stuff up, Ah got a trigger fer it.”
“A disolve trigger?” asked Rarity. “What does that do, exactly?”
“It’s a liquid-sensitive trigger with a disolve-able cover over it,” explained Buck. “Jess’ put ‘er under water, an’ th’ bomb’ll go off in ‘round half an hour. No fiddlin’ with timers, no tickin’ sound, jess’ big ole explosions. Course, ya could put it in a diff’ernt liquid than water, like acid. Sets it off a lot faster. Also, this’n don’ need t’be attached t’the main trigger. Comes right off, see? Easier t’hide that way.”
“Well, I daresay that would be useful,” Rarity eyed the device enviously.
“’Ere,” Buck Shot tossed Rarity a pair of plain saddlebags. “Take as much o’ th’ stuff as ya want. Yer gonna need these detonators, too,” he gestured to a pile of small, round devices on sticks, presumably used to anchor it to the explosive. “Make sure ya set th’channel proper, else they’ll go off when ya don’ wannem to, or they won’ go off when ya hit th’ trigger.”
Rarity’s eyes sparkled as she placed the saddlebags on her back beneath the assault rifle and proceeded to fill one with explosives, and the other with detonators. She placed the complex trigger device in the latter.
“Are y’all gonna be wantin’ a blade o’ some sort?” her knowledgeable guide asked. “They ain’t near as deadly as a gun, but it’s always nice t’have one on hoof.”
“I suppose I could use one, yes,” replied Rarity. “Nothing too fancy, mind you, just a simple knife will do.”
“O’ course, Miss Rarity,” Buck Shot walked across the room to another table, quickly returning with a long, thin knife encased in a leather sheath. “’Ere ya go. This’ll do ya in a pinch.”
“Thanks,” Rarity smiled graciously. “This should be all I’ll need.”
Buck Shot laughed. “Thank Celestia, eh? Wouldn’ wan’ ya t’ruin mah business! An’ by th’ way,” he narrowed his eyes and leaned in close to Rarity’s face. “If’n Ah find out that y’all been lyin’ t’me ‘bout yer home, ain’t no weapon in th’ world that could save ya.”
He laughed again and removed himself from Rarity’s personal space. “But that shouldn’ be too hard t’check, an’ yer smarter’n to make some’n like that up. G’luck, mah friend.”
“I only have one question,” began Rarity. “How am I expected to make it back to my hotel with all of these things?”
“Well, yer gonna wan’ t’wait ‘til night,” explained Buck Shot. “Not a lot o’ ponies are out at night. An’ y’all should wear one o’ them cloaks over yer gun an’ knife,” he pointed at the opposite wall, where several thick, brown cloths were hung. “Won’ hide ‘em perfect, but it’s better’n nothin’. Now, les’ get back t’th’ entrance. Yer friends are prob’ly getting’ lonely.”
He stopped. “Or maybe they ain’t really that lonely. Sure hope they don’ stain mah floors.”
__________________________________________________________________________
Rarity sat at the desk in her hotel room, a complicated, hoof-drawn map in front of her. Various markings littered the paper, a nearly indiscernible mess of letters and pictures.
“So, this is your plan, is it?” Venom, who stood behind Rarity with Body Pierce, looked over Rarity’s shoulder at the map. “I don’t see a part where we get to help.”
A flash of surprise crossed Rarity’s face. She hadn’t expected these two to want to help. She had only met them this morning.
“You’re not helping,” Rarity said flatly. “This is my fight, not yours.”
“But-“
“No,” Rarity would not change her mind on this issue. “If you want to help, go get Buck Shot after I leave. We’ll all go out to a fancy restaurant,”
Body Pierce looked at her strangely. “Weird idea, you know. We barely know the guy, and dinner won’t help you at all.”
“Well, I’d like to get to know you all better. You two, and Buck, are the only ponies I’ve got now.”
Venom nodded. “I suppose dinner would be nice. We’ll make sure he comes. In the meantime, we’ll let you get some sleep. You’ve got a long day ahead of you.”
But even after the pair had left, Rarity remained in her seat, still contemplating her plan. There was nothing more to do now but put it into action, yet she couldn’t pull herself away just yet.
Just go to bed, Rarity, she thought to herself. There’s no way you’ll be able to pull this off if you’re falling asleep on your hooves. She sighed as she clicked off the desk lamp illuminating her workspace. Venom was right. Tomorrow would be a long day.
__________________________________________________________________________
A dark figure sat regally in an ornate swivel throne. He clopped his hooves together. “Yes… Everything is going according to plan.”
“Sir!”
The figure sighed. He did not appreciate his private moments being so rudely interrupted. “Come in, guard.”
The door entered and two burly unicorn stallions entered, carrying a large, wriggling bag between them.
“Sir, we found this,” the guard said as he and his partner threw the package onto the office floor. “Wandering around the delivery trucks.”
The chair turned slowly as the guards opened the bag, revealing a white mare, bound and gagged, with a look of purest hatred in her eyes.
“Ah, Rarity,” sighed the pony, giving her a pitying glance. He looked back at the guards. “Was she determined to be a threat?”
“Yes, sir. She was carrying these,” the guard raised a powerful, shining rifle in his magic, while the other held a knife. “As well as these saddlebags filled with explosives.”
The guard sat the saddlebags on the pony’s desk. He opened them, eyes widening at the sight of the explosives. “Did your men search the area?”
“Yes, sir. They found no traces of explosives on any of the trucks, or anywhere else.”
The pony nodded. “It would appear that she was planning some sort of sabotage. Obviously, though, she was caught before she could plant them. The trigger’s still in the bag. Good work, guards.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Ungag her, guards. I wish to speak with her.”
“Yes, sir.”
The two stallions removed the gag from Rarity’s mouth. She did her best to spit out the revolting taste. The thing hadn’t been washed in absolute ages!
“So, Rarity,” the pony spoke conversationally. “It seems that you’ve figured it all out. You know now that it was I who was behind the attack upon your miserable town. It was I who destroyed everything you hold dear. I took your most shining moment and transformed it into a horrific bloodbath. It was I, the one and only, Hoity Toity!”
Rarity didn’t dare try anything. She could still use her magic, yes, but the unicorns behind her were far more accomplished. She would scarce have caused her horn to glow when the full brunt of their wrathful duty would come down on her head. She had no choice but to sit complacently and listen as this sadistic madpony reminded her of what he had done.
“Tell me, Rarity. How did you know?” asked Hoity Toity. “Surely, none of my assassins gave it away. And my hoofprints were quite absent from any evidence you may have discovered. There was, in truth, no obvious way that you found me out. So please, enlighten me.”
Rarity looked into his eyes, behind which shone a light of success. “You have a billboard in town featuring some of your, ah, designer dresses.” She was careful not to insult Hoity Toity’s awful work in front of his guards. “The stitching patterns perfectly matched those of the suits your assassins wore. I simply put two and two together.”
“Oh, but of course!” exclaimed the pompous stallion. “You are the famous Rarity, after all. Your eye for tailoring is unmatched.” He chucked to himself. “Although, I don’t see it helping you much at the moment.”
“Why?” Rarity asked.
“Well, I hardly think your skill with fabrics will--”
“Not that,” her voice began to break. “Why Ponyville? What had any of those innocent ponies done to you, to deserve that sort of fate?”
“Come now, Rarity. You mustn’t mistake my actions as a grudge against an entire town,” Hoity Toity laughed. “No, my true intent was far more focused. You.”
“Me?” asked Rarity, confused. “Why?”
“Why, because my new line of dresses is shipping out this very day! But if I had allowed your new dress to reach Sapphire Shores, ponies from all across Equestria would flock to you, and not me, for new dresses!” Hoity Toity said, as though the very thought was incredulous at best. “I simply could not allow this to happen, so I had to get rid of the dress, and the dressmaker to boot.”
Rarity was dumbfounded. For a few moments, she could do nothing but stare open mouthed at the psychotic stallion. “All this? You burned a town and killed dozens of innocent civilians, foals, even, and for this? You wanted more business!?” She wanted to scream, to break free of her bonds and rip his murderous heart out with her bare hooves. “Why not just kill me!?”
“Kill you?” Hoity Toity laughed maniacally. “If I had killed you, dear Rarity, Celestia’s Royal Guard would’ve been at my doorstep within the hour! I was the only pony who stood to gain anything from your death. If I attacked the entire town, nopony would’ve thought that you were the actual target! Although, I did expect you to die in the fires. The fact that you are here is quite curious.”
“So you failed, then,” stated Rarity. “Your master plan failed. Because, as you can see, I am still alive. And some friends of mine know where I am. If I don’t come back alive, they’ll alert the authorities.”
“But here’s the genius of it!” exclaimed Hoity Toity. “The plan hasn’t failed at all! It did precisely what it was meant to do: prevent you from making dresses that far outshine my own! And tonight, each and every one of my delivery trucks will take those dresses to department stores all over Equestria, and there shall be no competition to show them up!” He fell in a fit of crazed guffaws.
Rarity only smiled. “I wouldn’t be so sure of that, if I were you.”
Hoity Toity stopped his laughter immediately. “What do you--”
BOOM!!!
An earsplitting explosion echoed throughout the office. The guards were thrown to the ground, and Hoity Toity very nearly fell from his ridiculous throne.
“What was that!?” he cried.
Rarity took full advantage of the distraction. In a flash, she wrested her assault rifle from the guard’s magic. Holding it aloft in her own magic, she spun it and fired two shots into each of their skulls. They fell with a thud as she snatched up her knife and pulled it from its sheath. With the finesse only a dressmaker could have, Rarity sliced the ropes binding her and turned both weapons on Hoity Toity, the knife at his neck, and the rifle aimed directly at his heart. His eyes shot wide with terror as he began to splutter incoherently.
“But, I don’t, what just--” he swallowed. “How? Your saddlebags were half-filled with explosives!”
Rarity smiled again. “Yes, they were. But when I first arrived, they were filled to the brim. A small explosive in the gas tank, where none of your guards would think to look. It does the trick quite nicely, don’t you think?”
“But--” Hoity Toity began. “But, the trigger! It’s right here, in this bag! It wasn’t even armed!”
“Time-released disolve trigger,” stated Rarity. “All I had to do was swallow it just before your guards caught me, and then it was just a matter of time.”
The crazed stallion began to sweat. “Heh, well, you really got me,” he laughed nervously. “Fair trade, right? Your career for mine? No hard feelings, eh?”
Rarity butted him across the face with her rifle. “I don’t think so,” she said threateningly. “You took so much more than just my career.
“This is for Ponyville,” she fired a round into Hoity Toity’s knee. He screamed in pain.
“And for my parents.”
Another knee. Another scream.
“And my friends.”
Another knee. Another scream.
“And the foals.”
She fired two shots into this knee. Another scream.
“And this,” Rarity raised the knife high into the air. “This is for Sweetie Belle.”
Hoity Toity’s screams rose in volume and pitch as the knife plunged down from the sky.
__________________________________________________________________________
Rarity walked away from the building, her saddlebags and weaponry safely slung across her back. Grasping the trigger with her magic, she pushed the button, ignoring the incredible blast that rose up behind her as Hoity Toity’s office building was destroyed. From the ground, the destruction was chaotic, but from above, the true art was revealed. A burning diamond, exactly like the cutie mark on her flank, cut through the building, with Hoity Toity’s private office directly in the center.
__________________________________________________________________________
“If ever there is injustice, call upon me, and I shall be there. If ever wars, I shall be the harbinger of peace. If ever wanton killing curses your streets, takes your friends, your family, your life, I shall be the light shining in the darkness, bearing swift retribution to those who dare oppose the forces of good. I am a vigilante. I am love to those who are unloved. I am the best friend of truth, and the worst enemy of hate. I am the one who stands silently outside your gates, always watching, always protecting, always caring. I am recompense. I am karma. I am law. I am justice.”
I
Am
Rarity.
