If You Can Make It There. If.
The Shy-Breeze family estate, such as it was, wasn't a place that changed very often. Fluttershy took great comfort in that, knowing that no matter how many reality-warping horrors she befriended, existential threats she thwarted, or ancient magics beyond pony ken she exposed herself to, she could always come home to the gentle, the soft, and the familiar.
"Flutter Butter! So good to see you! Feels like it's been forever!"
And her brother, who qualified as one of those. "I was here yesterday, Zephyr. So were you. It's been a week since you graduated."
"Well, I suppose you wouldn't know, settled in like you are down surfaceways," Zephyr said, draped across one of the kitchen chairs, "but the Cloudsdale real estate market is killer right now."
Fluttershy's flat look could've actually killed several delicate species of insect. "It literally costs fifty bits to get enough clouds for a one-room apartment. You could've even asked Dad for help."
Gentle Breeze—who had been in the kitchen the whole time but hadn't wanted to make a fuss—perked up. "I have been meaning to—"
"And that's just finding a place!" said Zephyr. No one present could tell if he'd deliberately interrupted his father or just hadn't heard him. Including Zephyr. "You wanna talk nightmares, finding a job in Cloudsdale? That's enough to keep a pony up at night for a lot longer than a week." He cracked what he told himself was a winning grin, one normally lucky to crack the top ten in a field of twelve. "Good thing my siesta's comin' up."
"You're Gentle Breeze's son," said Fluttershy, pointing at their waving father. "More than half of the weather factory used to work for Dad. You could literally walk in the doors and they'd beg you to start, no matter where your degree came from." Snarling like a badger (which was roughly between bear and wolverine on the snarl intensity spectrum,) Fluttershy added under her breath, "And if you applied yourself, they might not beg you to leave a week later."
Zephyr leaned in closer, which given his previous position meant that he was almost sitting up straight. "What was that last part?"
"I said, if you applied yourself, they might not beg you to leave a week later."
"Yeah, that's what I thought you said."
Fluttershy blinked. "Wait, you're actually listening to me?"
"Every word! And sure, I could just ride Dad's contrail to some cushy do-nothing desk job. But you know me, Sis!"
"Unfortunately."
Even Zephyr winced at that one. "Dang. Who wizzed in your oats this morning?"
"I left them unattended while talking to the mailpony, so I'm not sure how many creatures were involved. Definitely more than five." Fluttershy shook her head. "But that isn't the point. The point is that I'm not going to let you fall back into your old rut after you've made such amazing strides forward. So I'm going to do what I did when you decided to stay with me."
Zephyr winced. "This doesn't involve Rainbow Dash, does it? 'Cause I'm pretty sure I'm banned from Wonderbolt HQ for another couple months."
"No. I found you another job. It's in Manehattan, but it seems perfect for you."
Zephyr's eyes darted back and forth. In that same field of twelve, his smile was now somewhere around fifteenth. "D-don’t you think this is kind of fast, Flutters?"
"Well, it’s like they say: Use it or lose it. I don’t want your skills to get rusty before you ever put them to use."
"I mean, I could always help Mom perk up her ‘do."
"I have been meaning to…" Posey Shy, who had also been there the whole time, trailed off as Fluttershy shook her head.
Fluttershy took a deep breath, then used a glass of lemonade to clean out the last hints of breakfast. "Zephyr," she said, a hoof on his withers, "I understand. One life lesson isn’t going to completely change who you are. But I’ve talked with Mr. Shears and he’s been very understanding. He says a lot of ponies in your generation have a similar fear of failure."
Zephyr titled his head. "What’s this ‘my generation’ stuff? You’re, like, two years older than me."
Fluttershy just stared at him. No capital, but it was enough.
"Right. And you’re an incredibly successful ecosystem manager-slash-former supermodel-slash-savior of the world. Also, you set up that one wildlife refuge nopony ever talked about again."
"I did once." After a moment of thought, Fluttershy added, "I think."
"Still, Manehattan?" Zephyr threw up his hooves. "I’d get lost inside of a minute! That city would eat your poor little baby brother alive!”
"How do you get to the Cloudosseum from the weather factory?"
"Huh?"
Fluttershy gave the sly sort of smile that only little siblings usually see. "Humor me."
"You go onto Cumulus, take the second right, then the first up onto the cross-town express current, then you take the downward offramp at Exit 17 all the way to Layer Two, and it’s, you know, the giant stadium on your right. Can’t miss it."
"Manehattan is a lot like that, only you don’t have to worry about up or down."
After a few moments' thought, Zephyr nodded. "Oh, right, right, ground city." He looked away. "I… guess I could handle that. Maybe.”
"Just give it a shot. Please?"
"… Fine. For you, big sister."
Fluttershy swept him up in a hug. "Wonderful. Just remember, no pressure."
"There is more pressure here than you can possibly understand. You are not just some cut-rate scissor jockey who could be replaced by an electromantic trimmer. You are a soldier in an active war zone. You’re fightin’ against unprofessionalism, lost street cred, chaos consumin’ the greatest city on Equus!"
Zephyr looked around. A row of chairs along a wall, three designated spots with mirrors for customers to stand, a bunch of pictures of probably famous ponies he'd never heard of. The place didn't exactly scream "battlefield." He raised a wing. "Question."
"What, maggot?"
He turned to Mr. Shears, a heavy-set earth stallion who seemed entirely too amused by all of this. "Why does this nine-year-old filly think she’s a drill sergeant?"
"I am twelve, you overgrown pigeon!" snarled said filly, who turned to show the scissors on her flank.
Mr. Shears nodded. "Babs here is my apprentice."
"Your apprentice?"
"You ever hear about the time the Statue o’ Harmony got off its podium and trotted to the Museum o’ Natural History? That was Babs and her friends jus’ playin’ around."
Zephyr turned to Babs. “What.”
She flushed, tail flipping up to cover one flank. "That was mostly Mold Spore’s idea."
"'Mold Spore'?"
"He’s a fun guy."
Zephyr winced, then looked back at Mr. Shears. "Mr. Shears, I am feeling both mentally and emotionally abused right now. I don’t know if—"
"Can it, kid. I told you, she’s my apprentice. If I gotta choose between you and Babs, I know who I’m pickin’, and it ain’t the new hire. But Babs’s cousin put in a good word for you, and I’m willin’ to at least give you a try. So drop the attitude—and that goes for you too, Babs—"
"But—!" cried Babs, eyes wide with shock.
"Don’t wanna hear it," Mr. Shears all but growled. "Both of you get ready to trim tomorrow. Got it?"
"Got it," Zephyr and Babs chorused. They then each shot a glare at the other. A few moments into the battle of wills, Babs rolled her eyes, puffed a breath over her bangs, and walked out of the barber shop.
Zephyr watched her go for a few seconds before turning to Mr. Shears. "Wait, did I just win that?"
Mr. Shears shook his head. "Babs may be my apprentice, but she's still twelve. She only comes in on weekends an' when she can after school. Sometimes tries to when she really can't. Gotta make her bring her homework to show me she can. Kid ain't just good, she's driven.
"An' remember, when she is workin', she's your boss. She has seniority, regardless of age. You're the Mets to her Cellies, the low buffalo on the totem pole, the—"
"Okay, okay, I get it! You can stop with the metaphors."
"Point is," said Mr. Shears, "you’re what we in the business call a pity hire. I took you on as a favor to Babs’s family, and if you make me regret that, you’re out on your tail." He gave Zephyr a flat look that couldn't quite measure up to Fluttershy's, but could probably still disinfect a pair of scissors. "Her cousin told me about your work ethic."
Zephyr drew himself up with as much indignation as he could muster. "I have made great improvements."
Mr. Shears nodded. "You have. She told me that. She also told me what you improved from. So don’t go thinkin’ you can coast along. You got me?"
Zephyr sighed and nodded. "Yeah, I got you. What if the brat keeps badgering me?"
"Babs shouldn’t. If she does, ignore her. Filly’s had some rough times of her own; this is probably just insecurity."
"If you say so."
"I do."
"Yo! Bronchitis with wings! Sweep up, will ya? I'm up to my dock in mane hair here!"
Zephyr shuddered as he brought the broom out to the shop floor. "Could we please move the conversation away from the twelve-year-old's dock?"
"Aww, am I makin' you uncomfortable?" Babs snorted as she continued the trim job, using a pair of bar stools and the customer's neck to get at the right angles. "Maybe if you swept up more often, we wouldn't be talkin' about it at all."
Zephyr sighed and muttered, "I go to one of the premiere mane therapy adult education seminars in Cloudsdale and this is where I end up."
"Yeah, I'm sure your diploma's real nice, college colt. Bet ya got to featherpaint it yourself an' everything."
Zephyr thrust the broom at Babs. "That diploma is one of the crowning achievements of my life!"
She nodded. "And that is sad. Next."
As the next customer got into position and the other waiting ponies offered each other popcorn, Zephyr said, "Girl, what is your problem? If I wanted some mare insulting me with every step, I'd go find Rainbow Dash. At least she's hot when she does it."
"I make half my tips on bein' cute," said Babs. She then blew her bangs out of her eyes, which even Zephyr had to admit was heart-melting. "If I told you what I really thought about you, that'd dry up real quick. Though with this crowd, I might end up gettin' more out of it, eh?" The customers answered her with cheers and cackles of varying degrees of coarseness.
"Well, you know what I think of you?"
Babs turned back to her current customer. "No. Don't care either."
"Too bad. You, Babs Seed, are..." Zephyr trailed off and sniffed at the air.
After a few seconds, Babs perked an ear and looked up. "Well? Lay it on me. What am I?"
"Do you smell smoke?"
"The heck do you mean, 'do I smell—'?"
A line of fire burst into existence between them, a smoky, ruddy blaze the color of an old scab. It bulged out towards both of them, Babs and Zephyr both backing away from it with wide eyes. The current customer—who, Zephyr noted, still had one patch of mane about three inches longer than the rest—bolted out the door, still wearing the smock.
"We're gonna have to charge that guy for that," he said idly.
Once he ran out, the waiting customers followed suit, bolting out of the store even as the floating fire extended.
"There goes the lunch rush," mumbled Babs.
Both ponies moved to the chair-lined wall of the barber shop. From that angle, the fire took a form not unlike a giant eye of flame with a silhouetted pupil. The pupil resolved itself as something moving through the flames, and when it emerged, it proved itself impossible.
The first thing Zephyr noticed was that it was an alicorn, or at least shaped like one; the crimson coat, flaming mane and tail, draconic wings, and blackened eyes suggested some forgotten daughter of Celestia in the middle of her moody teenage phase. Then he noticed the crown, which a few moments' study showed was actually melted onto the being's scalp, drooping and uneven, though the inset crescent-moon gem still shone.
After all that, Zephyr registered one other thing: Babs clinging to his foreleg, trembling like a leaf, and muttering, "This ain't happenin'. This ain't happenin'. This ain't happenin'."
"Hey, you okay?"
She looked up at him, her eyes wide and her pupils contracted to pinpricks. "Okay? Okay? This is Manehattan, not Ponyville! This kinda crap doesn't happen here!"
The alicorn cleared her throat with a sound like a lightning generator. "Uh, I—"
Babs fled behind Zephyr entirely. Then she started pushing him forward. "Kill him first! I have somethin' to live for!"
Zephyr took a deep breath and turned to the newcomer. "Look, you got a horn, can you calm her down or something?"
The alicorn blinked. "Yes, actually." Her magic, the color of the last light of a dying star, radiated from her horn and shifted into a greenish mist that settled behind Zephyr.
Once he felt the pushing against his hind legs relax, he looked back. Babs was just staring forward vacantly. "Okay. Babs. Babs. Can you hear me?"
After a moment, she nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, I hear ya."
"Great. Now, I know it’s kind of freaky, but the alicorn probably just wants a manecut." Zephyr looked over his withers. "You do want a manecut, right, ma’am?"
She looked at the tail of flame half as long as she was, then ran a hoof over her tangled coat. After a few tugs to free it, she said, "More than you can know."
"Right, full package. Mane, tail, coat, hooves."
"You can do hooficures?" Even with a voice like gargling pitch, the question still came out bright and hopeful as a starving mare staring at a banquet.
Zephyr shook his head. "We ain’t no spa, ma’am, but we can at least file ‘em for you."
"Better than nothing."
Zephyr walked to the supplies on the mirror shelf. "Okay, just… hold on…" He tried the other two stations. "Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me." He made for the door. "Babs, you start on her coat, I gotta go take care of something."
"Oka— Wait, what!?" Babs snarled and followed him, barely spotting a green speck going higher into the sky. "Get back here, you flyin’ chicken!"
"He’s not coming back, is he?"
Babs gritted her teeth as she turned on a trimmer and started working at the alicorn's coat. "You know, I’m really not sure. Even odds."
"Are you sure? I could smell the fear wafting off of him."
Babs barked out a laugh. "Lady, I could smell the fear comin’ off him. That’s how he’s smelled ever since the cheap aftershave he wore on his first day wore off."
"Hmm. Let me get those saddlebags."
"Thanks." Babs hadn't even noticed them before they came off, the alicorn setting them down with astonishing care. "So, uh, what's your story?"
The alicorn shrugged her unfeathered wings. "Oh, you know how it is. Leave home in a huff because I think Celestia's holding me back, return triumphant with newfound power, do something stupid that ends up killing the world over a few years, leave with the last few vestiges of life and magic in the world, end up in a Manehattan barber shop, apparently. You?"
"Uh..." uhhed Babs, in near-harmony with the trimmer's hum.
The alicorn gave her as sympathetic a look as could be managed with those eyes. "Need another shot of the anti-anxiety spell?"
"You'll know when. I'll probably start screamin' again. Don't suppose you can turn off the..."
"You just gestured at all of me."
"Tryin' to find some part of you that ain't terrifyin'."
"Okay!" Both mares turned to see Zephyr trot back in through the entrance. "Took a few tries, but I'm ready for the mane and tail." In one wing, he held a pair of scissors, now with golden, glowing runes carved into the outsides of the blades.
The alicorn's eyebrows shot up. "You know how to make æther shears?"
"Last day of mane therapy training. Supposed to have some health benefits when you use them with normal manes, but they can also cut alicorn manes. Something about lightning in the metal? All I know is they work." Zephyr hummed to himself, bent down, and snipped the tip off the alicorn's fiery tail. The freed tip reduced itself to ash a moment later. Zephyr beamed. "See?"
The alicorn nodded. "Not bad."
Zephyr moved to her mane. "Babs, you wanna get her hooves started?"
Babs blinked. Sure enough, she'd made it to the rear legs without even noticing. "How the heck are you so calm in alla this?"
Zephyr shrugged his wings. "My dad was basically in charge of clouds for half of Equestria until a few years ago. My mom's the Mulia Mild of sky gardening; you know, bringin' it to the masses and all? My sister is two degrees of separation from Celestia herself."
"Not as fun as it sounds," said the alicorn.
"My point is, I'm used to being the least important pony in the room by a big margin. Plus, it's not like she started firing death lasers the moment she walked in the room."
"Not the best way to make a first impression in my experience."
"Okay, how's this look to start?"
The alicorn moved from side to side, taking in the neck-length curls that danced about her head. "It's... wow. Wow. It's exactly what I wanted. How did you know?"
Zephyr offered a grin that might just medal. "Just went with what felt right, you know?"
"Can't argue with the results. Thanks. You done back there?"
"Gimme another few..." Babs put down the file and nodded. "Yeah."
"Thanks. Both of you." The alicorn lit her horn and ignited another portal of flame, walking through without a care.
Zephyr smirked down at Babs. "So, you gonna maybe treat me with a bit more respect?"
"Maybe."
"Maybe?"
"You let her leave without payin', featherbrain."
Author's Note
So, what did we learn?
• Mane therapy actually teaches something useful.
• Even the most useless-looking or most monstrous-looking ponies can be nice people if you give them a chance.
• Never let awe get in the way of collecting a bill.
• FoME will never pass up an opportunity to get an overpowered instance of Sunset Shimmer involved.
• All of the above.
