I Left My Heart in Friendship Valley

by PresentPerfect

Rating: everyone
Tags: Random
Length: 1962

Don't publish it, stupid!

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Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2016-03-29 15:42:12 UTC

Chapter 1

Round 1: Lines (vs. Caps Lock)

It was lines that defined the modern world. Painted lines separated one arbitrary lane of asphalt concourse from the other. The sharp lines of skyscrapers, Manehattan's great forest of concrete, glass and steel, provided earth pony and unicorn alike a taste of pegasus life. Most of all, no matter where one went in a modern city, one would inevitably find oneself standing in line.

But Loosestrife's usual morning line for coffee was absent on this day. Somepony meant to repair or maintain the lines of the skyscraper rising above Java Joe's had dropped a long metal platform onto the humble coffee shop's awning. Debris was strewn up and down the sidewalk, the area cordoned off and declared unsafe for ponies lacking hardened hats. Lines creased Loosestrife's face as she stared into the carnage.

Nopony a thousand years ago had heard of coffee. The earth ponies' homeland was too far north to trade with the zebras and donkeys of more tropic climes. But of all the frivolities of this noisy, fast-paced, high-energy, ridiculous modern world, it was coffee Loosestrife had found most agreeable. It made the morning sun shine brighter. It gave her the drive to see the day through when the line-defined modern world spun too fast for her. It warmed and soothed her in the night.

But it seemed her enjoyment of coffee went beyond simple desire. The more she stared at the coffee shop, the more she realized she did not want coffee. She needed it. Now.

Glowering at Java Joe's, however, was not speeding the removal of the wreckage. Also, her back right was twitching in a most bothersome manner, not something that happened previously. The scent of freshly brewed, likely soon to be wasted coffee floated from the store, enticing her like a siren's song.

Perhaps such comparison is apt. Methinks I have been bewitched by this brew. This morning groweth more irritating than any hath right to be.

Faced with the impassable yellow line separating her from her needs and lacking alternatives, she staggered off down the sidewalk.

There were no easy methods to become un-lost in a city. Street signs helpfully showed where one was, but were meaningless when one had no idea where one wished to go. Her self-recriminations for not taking time to to learn the city's routes were broken by a perky greeting.

"Good morning, madam! Can I interest you in a technological revolution?"

If there was one thing Loosestrife did not miss alongside her morning coffee, it was the chance to stand in line with the Tartarus known as other ponies. Bad enough that pegasus and unicorn alike frequented an upstanding earth pony establishment like Java Joe's. Mustn't deny harmony, the dulcet voice of Princess Celestia remonstrated her, unbidden. That she must be expected to interact with the odd pony who actually enjoyed waiting in a line was beyond the pale. Such cheer was inexcusable at this hour. Her back right nagged at her.

Cheerful ponies standing in front of boutiques might know where to find coffee.

"Nay." She turned to see a grey horn emerging from pink-striped curls—Stars above, why do single colors not satisfy ponies of this age?—and tilted her head down. "I require only that thou directest me to the nearest establishment whereat I may purchase freshly brewed coffee."

The unicorn blinked at her for less time than ponies tended to when first meeting her. "Well, Java Joe's is just a block thattaway, miss." The unicorn pointed back the way Loosestrife had come.

She frowned. "Had I not travelled from that direction, knave, I'd not have asked thee."

The unicorn's mouth worked soundlessly for a moment, before she said, "Weeeeell, we usually have a pot brewing in the early morning. But I can't offer any unless you're interested in a technological revolutioooon!"

The singsong lilt in the unicorn's voice set Loosestrife's eye twitching in time with her leg. Typical of unicorns to be so cunning. "Then for the moment, I am."

"Great! Just follow me inside, miss..."

"Loosestrife."

"Nice to meet you, Loosestrife! I'm Caps Lock. Gosh, I love your dress. SCA fan?"

Neither offering nor asking for explanations was the best way to weather these conversations. "Aye."

"Cool!" Caps Lock hop-skipped and chuckled. "I figured, with how you talk. Totally nailing the Princess Luna, by the way. Anyhow, welcome to Personal Pony Computing!"

There were not many Manehattan boutiques Loosestrife deigned to visit, thus she had no way of knowing whether the extreme brightness of the interior was normal. The walls were flat white, the counters of polished, light wood. Everything was too neat, too straight-lined, too bright. She was squinting by the time they stopped before a high counter set to one side. Caps Lock lit her horn, placing a small paper cup beneath a tiny coffee maker. A few moments later, Loosestrife held a steaming cup whose scent made her heart soar.

"There's your coffee! Trust me, I know the feeling." She winked. "Now you just stand there and enjoy your morning caffeine kick, while I tell you all about the amazing features of the all-new PPC!"

The coffee was terrible. Nevertheless, drinking it made weathering the unicorn's animated prattle a not insurmountable task. Loosestrife did try to pay attention—it was only fair—but Caps Lock lost her both through fast talking and the innumerable list of erudite features. Also, she wondered what 'caffeine' was and what it had to do with kicking.

Still, it seemed any coffee, regardless of the taste, was adequate for making her feel like a real mare again.

"Hold," she said, draining the cup and setting it on the counter. "I'll wager thy contraption seemeth impressive, but pray tell, what doth it do?"

"Why, anything at all, really!" Caps Lock said, not missing a beat. "I'll admit, it's about as far from creative anachronisms as a pony can get, but you could always keep track of—" The unicorn glanced at something over Loosestrife's shoulder. "—your sword swings per minute! While you, ah, train, I'm sure!"

Though obviously out of her depth, Caps Lock recovered with aplomb. "Of course, its primary applications are geared towards business, finance, stock trading... You'll never miss a weather report! What do you do, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Do?"

"As a career, your job. When you're not..." The unicorn waved a hoof at her.

"'Tis of no import." Loosestrife cleared her throat. "Thy coffee, though tasting of hoof pickings after a day's march, hath invigorated me. The mare of words passeth into dotage, leaving daughter action to carry her sword." She straightened herself, watching down the end of her nose as the unicorn took a tiny step backward.

If there was any sign the unicorns had been victorious over their cousin tribes sometime in the past, it was the cold, hard bit. Dead and buried was the time of creating for the good of the tribe; colder still, the days of uneasy intertribal barter. Loosestrife had made a point to familiarize herself with the modern monetary economy and to provide her own way once she had, though the inherent worth of the bit sometimes eluded her. But she had been offered a royal stipend before settling in Manehattan and knew how much she had to pay monthly for rent, and those sufficed as bellwethers.

"Tell me, merchant, what price dost thou ask for this contraption?"

Caps Lock smiled. "Well, right now, we're having a startup special. Two-ninety-nine gets you the basic model, a year of warranty, 24 hour support through our customer service hotline, and a pack of our magifiber cleaning cloths!"

"Wait." Loosestrife's eyes flicked left and right as she sorted through the dross, cutting to the heart of the unicorn's statement. "Two hundred ninety-nine? Bits?"

"Aye." Caps Lock did a double-take. "Uh, I mean yes."

Lest I face harmony's wrath in mortal form, I shall not address thee as 'conniving needlehead'. Loosestrife turned on her heel and strode for the door, fast as her shaking legs could take her.

"Wait!" The unicorn's hooves pounded the floor behind her. "If I said something to upset you, ma'am, I apologize! Don't go!"

"Thou didst take me for but an earth pony simpleton the moment thou clapped'st eyes upon me!"

Caps Lock held the PPC in her magic as she tried to catch up. "I-I-I promise, I didn't mean any—"

"Trust unicorns to act without honor. Would that I had slain enough of thy ancestors on the field of battle to forestall this outrage!" Loosestrife reached the door, surging out into the bustle of the day, the unicorn hot on her heels.

"You're angry and confused, I understand." Caps Lock was obviously battling to keep her tone level. "I could throw in a durable carry case, no charge! An extra six months on the warranty? I'll personally clean your—"

Loosestrife's ear twitched at a sound from above. Acting without thought, she snatched the PPC from Caps Lock's magic. In the same fluid motion, she pressed the unicorn's head down with her other hoof and swung the computer in an arc over their heads. Its screen smacked into a tin pail, tipping it and spilling water across the sidewalk before them. With the clatter of metal against pavement, the modern world resumed its usual pace.

"Aah!" Caps Lock shouted into the concrete.

"Sweet Celestia, Rail!" shouted a voice above them. "You nearly killed somepony!"

A pegasus in a grey uniform appeared before them, apology in his smile and words spilling from his mouth like water over a fall.

"Sorry, ladies. New guy, y'know how it is." He scooped up the pail and rocketed back into the air, shouting, "Luna's fetlocks, Rail, that's twice already this morning, and if you can't..."

His voice trailed off, leaving only the wet sidewalk as evidence of any happenstance. Passersby gave them a wide berth, not a few eyes turning skyward.

Letting out a breath, Loosestrife turned to the unicorn beside her. Though cowering and shaking, she appeared otherwise unharmed.

"I apologize," Loosestrife said, her voice low, "if I have caused thee injury."

"N-n-no," Caps Lock said, unable to stand for her quivering knees. "I th-think you s-saved my l-l-life!"

"Aye, well." Loosestrife cleared her throat. "I shall apologize instead for my words earlier. They were spoken in a fit of pique and undeserved by thee."

"D-d-don't mention it."

Loosestrife remembered the computer, still clutched in her hoof. "I shall not, nor speak further of this morn, if thou wish'st it so." Turning it over, she noted the soft brush lines of the metal casing, which likewise appeared unscathed by the event. Her eyes lit up.

"By my grandsire's beard! Fair Cap o' the Loch, thou didst not mention this device was durable!" She held it up, knocking it with her hoof. "After so strong a blow, it yet hath nary a scratch upon the pretty side! With proper strapping, 'twould serve as a fine buckler! Hmm, or perhaps I could use it to prop open the door to my balcony..."

"Y-you can have it," Caps Lock said, a wan smile on her face. "Take it, n-no charge. I don't think I'll be..." She swallowed, her face taking a slight green hue. "Be s-selling that one. Excuse me!" She disappeared back into the boutique, slamming the door behind her.

Loosestrife peered in the window after her, but it was rather too reflective for her to see anything. She frowned at her reflection, turned, and placed her new doorstop in her saddlebag. It was quite the bargain, obtaining a thing so valuable at no charge; her good fortune, indeed. The pattern of lines across the black, shiny side would make it a suitable decoration for her home.