Masks, and Those Who Wear Them

Metal crunched into newspaper.

Newspaper slid into cardboard.

Cardboard stacked atop more cardboard atop wood.

“I just don’t get it,” one mare said. She brought a light teal hoof up to brush back her dark sienna mane, and her wings ruffled. Her crow’s feet looked somehow deeper now than they had just minutes before. “I just don’t get it.”

The other mare grumbled, her own wings flicking their orange feathers outward. She kept her eyes on her shelf and her desk, shoving the next trophy – bronze – into the next scrap of paper, into the next box, onto the next open patch of the cart by the door.

From her spot on the now otherwise bare single size bed, the older mare said, “Where did I go wrong?”

The younger mare slammed the next box down.

The older mare’s blue eyes snapped over. “Oh, what?” she said, her tone a challenge. “What?”

“Stop,” the younger one said in her scratchy voice. She turned, staring hard back. “This sucks enough.”

The other huffed, brows knitting. “Did I raise you to use words like that?”

“Oh,” the younger uttered coldly, “we’re saying you raised me, now?” She leaned against the desk. “I don’t remember seeing you around much.”

“How—” The older shot up from the bed, her wings rigid. “How dare you!” She stomped up to the younger mare – every inch her equal in height – and stared her down, saying, “All I did to keep us together after—”

“Big freaking martyr!” scoffed the younger, gesticulating a hoof at the other mare. “Worked so long and hard so her poor, ungrateful little daughter could grow up spending every freaking day completely freaking alone.”

“Whether you admit it or not,” the older mare said, jabbing a hoof at the younger’s chest, “you know everything was for your sake. So you could grow up in a real home.” She swept the hoof around the dorm room, at its empty closet and empty drawers and empty walls. “So you could take this five thousand–bit vacation.”

Wings spread fully and face going red, the younger mare spat, “Get out.”

The older stood a moment, and her knitted brows softened to utter neutrality. She started towards the hall.

“Hey,” said the younger mare as the other passed. Her wings tucked back to her sides.

The other kept moving. She passed the threshold.

“Hey!” the younger tried again. She stuck her head out into the hall. “You know I can’t fly all this junk back!”

“Well, Scootaloo,” the older mare called over her shoulder, “I guess that means you’re walking home.”

Masks
and Those Who Wear Them

by BigMacShrugs

“Welcome back!” they all yelled – them and the banner.

Sugarcube Corner was everything it had always been. Any time Scootaloo had visited Ponyville over the past three years, there either hadn’t been time or hadn’t been a good reason for partying, but now the confetti’d been busted out – there wasn’t a mane or punch bowl free of it in the house. At the thought of punch, Scootaloo raised her glass to her lips.

…Yep, just punch. It was childish, everywhere she looked – pinkness and party games, sweets and singing. But that didn’t stop it from feeling realer than any party she had gone to in all that time away.

Cutting through the chatter at the edges of Scootaloo’s attention, a warm body pressed against her side, and a leg wrapped around her shoulders. She turned her head just as Apple Bloom said, “Welcome home, Scoots.”

“Thanks, Bloom.” Scootaloo smiled, taking in the sight of the earth pony – the ponytail was new, tied up with the same old bow. She set the punch down and wrapped her own hoof around her friend. “How you been?”

“Fine,” Apple Bloom said, shaking her head. “Busier than ah’ve ever been before.”

“Farm?” Scootaloo let go, grabbing another sip of her drink.

Stepping back herself and nodding, Apple Bloom said, “Lookin’ after a whole third ’a the orchard now.” She chuckled. “Applejack doesn’t want me messin’ with the rest of the place’s mojo just yet, but that third’s all mine ta try stuff out on.”

“Grats,” Scootaloo said, her smile going plastic. That was as good an opening as she’d get. “Hey, d’you think you could use a spare h—”

Apple Bloom bumped her flank against Scootaloo’s. Grin in her voice, she said, “Had a feelin’ you’d ask. ‘A course there’s work on the farm for ya, Scoots. Till yer back on yer hooves, anyway.”

Scootaloo let out a breath. “That means a ton, Bloom.”

“Aw,” Apple Bloom said, waving a hoof, “don’t even think ’a thankin’ me. After all…” Her eyes all but glinted. “Ya start tomorrow at dawn.”

Apple Bloom’s predatory smile held for moment, but then the pair snickered helplessly, holding each other again.

Coming out of it, Apple Bloom said, “Nah, ah’ll be nice an’ give ya the weekend first.” Her eyes moved off, and she patted Scootaloo on the back before starting away. “Have a good party, Scoots.”

“Yep!” Scootaloo called. She looked off in the direction her friend had and saw an approaching Twilight Sparkle.

It might’ve been her imagination, but the princess looked a little taller than when Scootaloo had seen her last – no less a goober, though, with that sweet, cheesy smile.

Twilight stopped a polite distance off. “Hi, Scootaloo,” she said. Her eyes shifted away for an instant, and Scootaloo almost missed it. “So, um, how are you doing?”

Ugh. So the mare thought she had to walk on eggshells. Did Scootaloo look broken, or something?

“I’m good,” Scootaloo said.

“Great!” Twilight said, but she was frowning. “It’s just, um, if I was dr—” Her eyes widened, and she gave a poor excuse for a cough. “If I was leaving school, well…”

“I know,” Scootaloo said, forcing a smirk. “You’d be a freaking wreck.”

Twilight gave a much realer cough. “Yes,” she managed after.

Stepping forward, Scootaloo put a hoof on the older mare’s shoulder. “I’m not you,” she said, like a promise. “I’ll get by.”

Twilight nodded, still frowning, and walked off.

The party was a small one, on the whole. No family and all friends. Still, as Scootaloo leaned up against the punch table and took stock, there were some big absences.

She wanted to see Sweetie Belle most out of anypony in the world, right then. Apple Bloom was the best consolation prize she could ask for, but Sweetie could make any crappy situation look like it was just the start of something better. Scootaloo wouldn’t even have to ask – Sweetie would start making her feel better, no motivation needed past it just being how she is.

But there were other things she was than Scootaloo’s best friend, and those other things had her off on tour. Scootaloo could be happy that of the two them, at least Sweetie had managed to become a success.

She shook her head. It wasn’t the time to be getting all sad, not with just about everypony she was close with hanging around.

And hey, there was a bright side. Of all the ponies that could’ve missed the party—

The shop’s doorbell rang. Scootaloo turned.

She cursed under her breath.

The second Rainbow Dash walked through the door, she locked eyes with Scootaloo. “Heya, squirt! Welcome back,” she said, gliding easily over. “Sorry I’m late – overslept.”

As her old idol came in for a landing, Scootaloo said, “Um, hey, Rainbow Dash!” She rubbed a hoof through her mane. “Nopony said you were in town. I figured you’d have to be in Cloudsdale or something.”

Rainbow shook her head. “We can train wherever we want in the off season.” She looked around, Scootaloo following her gaze to all the little co-mingling pockets of happy friends, and she added, “You can guess what place I always pick.”

Scootaloo smiled and nodded.

And… what now? The decorations were nice. Could they talk about the decorations? Scootaloo started to open her mouth.

“So,” Rainbow Dash said, “um.” Her legs were twitching, Scootaloo saw. Like she didn’t want to be standing – or like she didn’t want to be standing there. Rainbow went on, “Gettin’ some weird vibes here.”

Scootaloo bit her cheek, then said, “Sorry. Guess it’s…” Come on, come on. Guess it’s what? “Guess it’s just been a while?”

Rainbow smiled, and Scootaloo nearly let out a relieved breath.

“Yeah,” Rainbow said. She perked up, eyes shifting about, and leaned in. “By the way…”

Scootaloo leaned in as well, until her ear was inches from Rainbow’s mouth.

Speaking low, Rainbow continued, “Me, Pinkie, and Apple Bloom wanted us four to go have, like, an afterparty once this is done.”

Scootaloo’s ear twitched. “Um,” she whispered back, “I’m not sure if—”

“C’mon,” said Rainbow, voice one skin-deep layer above a whine. “We all missed your twenty-first, and we wanna make up for it!”

Suddenly, Scootaloo’s throat felt very dry. On top of everything, getting flat drunk – or whatever way ponies got at an afterparty – was probably the worst thing she could do right then.

But… Well, if Bloom would be there…

Four tinks and a heavy thunk rang out over the conversation and distant music.

The waitress said cheerfully, “Enjoy!” She set the empty tray on her back before disappearing into The Red Clover’s dim atmosphere.

In the booth, Pinkie Pie leaned bodily past Rainbow Dash to take hold of her highball. At a glance, the layered thing inside it looked more like part of an ice cream cake than a drink – the ‘Pinkie Special’, she’d actually called it when they’d ordered, and it came with a spoon. Back in place and smiling broadly, she grabbed a salt shaker from beside the wall and tossed it to the side.

Rainbow caught it expertly in her wing. Before Scootaloo could blink, Rainbow had licked and salted up an ankle. Her free wing grasped the lime slice balanced on one of a pair of shot glasses set out before her, and another blink later, she’d licked the ankle again, downed the shot, and stuffed the lime in her mouth. Scootaloo could see her shiver from across the table.

Chuckling, Apple Bloom passed over Scootaloo’s glass, keeping for herself a wood tankard of what had sounded like the hardest hard cider possible. She didn’t seem to hesitate to start gulping it down.

Scootaloo just had a pint of heather ale. That had sounded nice on paper – and she liked how it sort of looked and smelled like honey – but now that it was in front of her… Kinda boring, really. Fact that it was apparently a Ponyville-brewed thing didn’t help. At least it was cheap.

Licking her puckered lips, Rainbow Dash set her shot glass forcefully down, crumpled lime slice set inside. “Hey,” she said, looking at Apple Bloom. “I love cider as much as the next mare – unless the next mare’s you or your sister, I mean – but why do you always get it?”

Apple Bloom, muzzle deep in her tankard, held up a hoof.

Scootaloo eyed all three of her friends. “Do you guys go out like this a lot?”

“Yep!” Pinkie Pie said, coming up from her drink with a frothy moustache. Like, an actual, full-bodied handlebar moustache of cream or foam or something. She licked her face clean and went on, “At least once a week, when Dashie’s in town.”

Apple Bloom set down her tankard – it sloshed like there was less than a third left – and wiped her mouth on a hoof. “There ain’t a better drink in town, Rainbow,” she said firmly. “’Scuse me fer havin’ taste buds.”

Rainbow sniggered.

“So,” Scootaloo asked, “not with Rarity or Applejack or anyone?” She took a sip of her ale. Little sweet, little sharp. Not awful.

Pinkie shook her head. “Twi and ’Shy don’t drink, like, ever,” she said, sighing a little. “Rarity doesn’t like the kinda places we go. Applejack—”

Rainbow Dash cut in, “Screw drinking with AJ.”

“Hey!” Bloom said, but her only half-scolding tone and her neutral face made it seem like she wasn’t actually disagreeing.

A little more ale downed, Scootaloo asked, “Why?”

Rainbow rolled her eyes. “She used to be good for a drinking contest, but the more I drank with her, the more I realized…” She shut her eyes, cleared her throat, and in a freakishly perfect voice, continued, “‘Rainbow, if ya keep – hic – drinkin’ like – hic – like that, then come mornin’, y’all’re gonna be findin’ yerself deader than the – hic – than the stench ya call yer breath.’”

Pinkie Pie and Apple Bloom went into fits of giggles. Scootaloo just went back to her drink.

“It’s crazy,” Rainbow said as she salted her ankle up again. “The mare can be completely freaking blasted and still come off straight edge. That gets un-fun pretty quick.”

With the other shot, Rainbow took the lime slice in wing and tossed it into the air before licking her hoof and downing the glass. She angled her head up… and the lime landed squarely on the table.

Pinkie and Bloom giggled that much more.

Rainbow coughed hard, and said in a weak voice, “Five second.” She leaned in and grabbed the lime slice between her teeth.

“Having fun, huh?” the voice of the waitress sounded, just as the mare herself reappeared beneath the light of the booth’s overhanging lamp. “You girls want another round?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Apple Bloom said as her laughter died back. She pushed her empty-sounding tankard off to the side. “Same fer me.”

“Ooh!” Pinkie grabbed hold of her spoon and set about shoveling the… syrup? Whatever it was that remained of her ‘drink’ down her throat. She held the glass out for the waitress to take, and singsonged, “Not sure! Something real big and re~eal fruity…”

Rainbow spat her drained lime into the empty shot glass and slid both glasses over. “Get me…” She licked her lips, eyes far away. Then she brought her forehooves up like she was grasping the air, and said, “Get me a luscious, honkin’ pair of Angel’s Teats.”

Pinkie picked her giggling back up where she’d left off.

Rainbow’s eyes came back into focus. “Vodka and Tabascaballo sauce kind, I mean,” she said as she turned to the waitress. “Not the pansy kind.”

“Double ooh!” Pinkie Pie said through the snorts. “Pinkie wants the pansy kind, please.”

Scootaloo looked down to her half-full pint, and back up to the waitress’s expectant smile. “I’m set for now, thanks.”

Empties secure on her back, the waitress walked off again, saying, “Back in a tic.”

Scootaloo took another few sips.

The others were just sitting – or, Rainbow was kind of lying back, hooves behind her head, and the other others were just sitting.

“So hey,” Pinkie said, eyes on Scootaloo. She had that arched brow, wet-eyed look on her face that she gets sometimes, when she’s clearly trying hard to come off more caring or serious than normal. “We didn’t drag you out tonight or anything, right, Scootaloo?”

Wow, um. Scootaloo said quickly, “Nah, no way. I’m just, um…” She bit her tongue. “I mean, what makes you ask that?”

Pinkie shrugged. “Just doesn’t seem like you wanna be here that much.” She frowned. “Didn’t seem like you wanted to be at your party much, either, actually…”

Scootaloo stared down at her drink.

“C’mon, Pinkie,” Rainbow said. “You know your parties aren’t for everypony.”

Shaking her head, Scootaloo said, “That’s not it.” She looked back up to Pinkie. “The party was really nice. Thank you.”

Pinkie gave half a smile.

Scootaloo rubbed her forehooves together. “I’m just not feeling my best right now, is all,” she said, almost cringing at how down she sounded. Forcing her voice firm, she added, “I’ll be fine.” She felt a sudden warmth as Apple Bloom leaned in and put a hoof around her shoulder.

Bloom said, “Any time you wanna talk…”

Scootaloo smiled, touching her hoof to Bloom’s. “Yeah.”

“Aww,” Pinkie Pie practically crooned, letting out a toothy grin.

Apple Bloom gave Scootaloo a squeeze and let go.

A moment of pretty comfortable silence later – minus the music still thumping away in the other room – and the waitress showed back up. “Here you go, girls.” She started laying out the drinks, the first in a small fishbowl glass which was still pretty freaking big, and she said, “Ah… I hope that one’s not too much.”

It made its way over to Pinkie Pie. The thing was filled with a cloudy red-pink liquor (‘liqueur’?), covered with a thick layer of what looked like straight cream, and a mound of whipped cream floating in the middle. A bright red preserved cherry sat atop it all, completing the picture of… a very angry nipple on a supremely fluffy breast.

Drool already dripping down her chin, Pinkie gasped out, “It’s perfect.”

Apple Bloom didn’t wait for her next tankard of cider to hit the table before grabbing hold of it, instead just taking it right off the waitress’s hoof with a nod.

“Yiss,” Rainbow said as her pair of shots came down. Vodka and Tabascaballo sauce alright – just clear liquor with a thin red film overtop.

Scootaloo… went back to her beer, still not empty.

The waitress gave the table a wink, and she said, “I guess I better check back soon, huh?” She trotted off to a chorus of subdued chuckles.

Apple Bloom let her already half-finished cider meet the tabletop, and she eyed Rainbow’s shots. She smirked.

“What?” Rainbow Dash asked, apparently catching the look.

“Nothin’,” Bloom said lightly. “Just, yer really arguin’ mah taste point for me, ain’tcha?”

Rainbow sat up straighter, saying, “Hey now.” One hoof reached for a shot glass. “This here is a refined, sensuals— Er, what’s the word?” Her face scrunched up. “It’s hot.”

A snerk left Apple Bloom’s snout. “It’s hot sauce.”

“Nah, nah.” Rainbow softly swirled the glass, and the sauce flowed up and caught in streaks against the rim. “It’s hot hot, passion-y.” She brought her head down as the vodka settled, and added just above a whisper, “Gotta treat your angel right, don’tcha?”

Rainbow snaked her tongue out and danced it along the inner rim, wicking the sauce away without so much as rippling the drink. She leaned in closer now, and delicately closed her teeth around the glass. The mare brought her head straight up, taking the vodka in one gulp that slid visibly down her throat.

Dropping the glass back to the table, Rainbow gave a soft hiss. “Do it well and she’ll bite you back good.”

…Scootaloo felt her wings twitch.

Pinkie Pie came up from her fishbowl, her lips ringed white, and bumped shoulders with Rainbow. “Tease,” she said, rolling her eyes.

Leaning back in, Rainbow kissed the mouth of the other glass, and Scootaloo saw the mare’s tongue reach in and lap the shot out. She broke the ‘kiss’ with an exaggerated, “Mwah.”

“Ah stand corrected,” Apple Bloom said, hefting her tankard up like she was toasting. “It ain’t just taste buds. There ain’t an ounce ’a taste in ya, period.”

Rainbow Dash brought a shot glass up and tapped it to the tankard, and she called, “Hear, hear!”

Even Scootaloo let out a laugh at that – she drowned it in the last of her beer.

Apple Bloom had just swigged the rest of her cider when familiar hoofsteps sounded once again.

“Another?” the waitress said.

Pinkie Pie, with her pinkened cream goatee sliding slowly down her face, gazed down at her not even half-empty glass. She smacked her forehooves to her cheeks, shook her head hard, and said, “Watch my drink, guys. I’m gonna go dancing.”

With that, she flopped her way over Rainbow’s lap and out of the booth. Past the waitress, who’d had to scramble out of the way.

As the wide-eyed waitress turned back to the table, Apple Bloom said, “’Nother for me, sure.”

A moment slipped by. Why wasn’t Rainbow order— Oh. The mare had moved over to be just across from Scootaloo, and was staring right at her.

“Um.” Scootaloo’s eyes moved between Rainbow and the waitress, and down to her empty pint. None too sure, she said, “Uh, I think I’ll just go for a soda? Like a birch beer, if you’ve got that?”

But Rainbow shook her head. “C’mon, Scoots,” she said, sounding almost disappointed past the giddiness. “Pinks’s right – you’re kinda uptight right now. Trust me, you’re gonna feel a lot better if ya relax.”

Scootaloo frowned, saying, “I really don’t think it’s what I need right—”

“C’mon,” Rainbow said, half forceful and half a whine. “It’s just your friends here. You’re gonna be fine.”

Bloom leaned in, brow low. “Rainbow, if she says she don’t want to…”

Hooves raised, Rainbow backed up. “Hey,” she said, “I just think she’ll have a good time if she lets herself.”

Scootaloo grit her teeth. Rainbow wasn’t wrong. There was a lot to be said for just letting go of the reins sometimes. It would definitely be easier.

Other hoof… thinking like that was probably half of why she was back home now. Not in terms of drinking, really, but habits are habits.

Her friends were there, though – Bloom would keep an eye out at the very least. If there was a safe place to give up some control, then this…

Yeah, screw it.

“Gimme whatever Rainbow’s getting.”

Scootaloo could hear her skull.

Hear it… It buzzed like blinding fog, and it made a dull thumping sound over and over, her eyelids pinching tighter closed each time.

“Nnf,” she forced out through her teeth.

She cracked her eyes open, and the buzzing got worse. Moved to her throat.

It was daytime – the light was definitely sunlight. Too… blazing. Too scalding freaking bright to be anything else. A room came into focus in blues and whites.

Scootaloo’s room was green and brown. And… not clouds.

Something moved on her legs – her breath caught in her throat as she turned. Draped over her back hooves, and dangling half off the other side of the bed, was Rainbow Dash.