For Nightmare Night, We Are Going As Ourselves

by Estee

Rating: teen
Tags: Main 6, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Comedy
Length: 6355

Crashing the costume party seemed like such a good idea at the time.

For the Bearers, a mission can begin -- or end -- at any time. In this case, they're tired, hungry, completely out of bits, and stuck roaming the streets of an unfamiliar town until Sun-raising. So while they're waiting for their ride home, why not take advantage of that costume party? Just go in claiming to be masquerading as the Bearers, keep the circulation centered around the food trays... in Rarity's opinion, it's the best possible way to get through the night. And it's not as if they've ever had something go wrong at a high-society party before.

...except for all the times when it has.

The time to learn what everypony thinks of you is when nopony knows you're there...

(Now with author Patreon, SubscribeStar, and Ko-Fi pages.)

Dedicated to Harpo Marx.

Published 2018-10-29 01:20:01 UTC
Last updated 2018-10-29 01:20:01 UTC

Their Reputation Got There First

A mission could begin at any time: the Bearers were all too familiar with that particular piece of reality. A scroll sent from the palace had no regard for the needs of their daily lives, and held exactly the same amount of concern as to what they might be doing at the exact moment of summons. They had been pulled out of meals, swimming holes, reshelvings, bathrooms and, if you believed Rainbow, ninety percent of the missions had begun during a nap. (For those who were familiar with Rainbow's sleeping habits, the number sounded low.) But in this case, the awkwardness hadn't come from the hour of the call, or even anything which had happened during the mission itself. There had been the usual scramble to assemble, but after that...

They had been delivered to the town in question via teleporter escort relay, arriving within the destination's gatehouse: the free-standing hollow structure which served as the final stop for all emergency transportation. This had allowed them to begin working on the problem shortly after Sun had been lowered: an issue so crucial to the safety of their homeland that the palace had found it necessary to dispatch them. And it was, in fact, a problem which required their direct attention.

About five hours of it.

Or, more realistically, forty minutes plus a rather extensive cleanup.

They were in a town which none of them had ever visited before: a rather small, extremely high-income area located on an island just off the east coast. Nopony among them had a single friend living there, nor were there any business contacts or minor acquaintances in the area. They had been gathered and dispatched before the regional mayoralty had even been informed they were coming. (Twilight still wasn't sure anypony in local power knew they were there, especially as the problem hadn't involved any actual ponies and turning over a no-longer-malfunctioning spell to the custody of the police had seemed rather pointless.) They had also been sent out in so much of a hurry as to keep them from bringing some of the little things along. Like, just for suddenly-very-relevant example, money.

The six of them were deep under Moon on a mid-autumn night. They were in an unfamiliar town, hungry and cold. They had just enough bits between them to purchase a dinner for two or, in this overpriced settlement, chewing gum for one. The settlement took up the whole of the island, leaving no woods they could camp within. The public parks featured very few benches worth sleeping on and an abundance of patrolling officers trying to prevent the attempt. Nopony was due to check for them at the gatehouse until Sun was raised and since the palace hadn't seen fit to dispatch Spike, they had no way to tell Canterlot that everything was taken care of and everypony just wanted to go home.

Fluttershy had proposed sleeping in the gatehouse. Twilight had wearily reminded everypony of what could happen when somepony teleported into an occupied space. And so they were simply trotting down streets they didn't know, at an hour where nopony else had taken to hoof or wing, forcing themselves to move through the increasing chill until somepony came to get them. An event which was still --

"What time is it?"

"'bout three minutes since the last time y'asked, Rainbow."

"It's not my fault they don't have any public clocks!"

"...I think that sculpture back there was a clock."

"Y'think so, Fluttershy?"

"...well -- the mane and tail were sort of rotated towards eleven-thirty..."

-- seven hours away.

Twilight sighed. "Just keep pushing, everypony. We just have to make it to Sun-raising. We've been through worse."

"I'm hungry," Rainbow informed them.

"I know, Rainbow."

Thirty seconds passed.

"I'm still hungry."

"Look at all the mansions!" Pinkie enthused. "I've never seen so many this close together before! Well, except for the last street. And the one before that. Plus there was all the stuff around the gatehouse -- anyway, see that fountain over there? Isn't it pretty?"

They looked.

"Lights play off the water real nice," Applejack decided.

"Yeah!"

"Also shows that if we drained all the water out, there'd be jus' enough room for everypony t' tuck up an' bed down." The farmer sighed. "Ah jus' want t' go home, everypony. Tonight was mah night to pull the cart for the Acres' Haunted Hayride. Ain't much time left before the holiday an' when Ah can't keep on schedule, Mac sticks me with the bad night."

"...which one's the bad night?" Fluttershy curiously inquired.

"Whenever Truffle shows up. Tries t' get through the ride every year, poor colt. Ain't had a one which didn't end without somepony walking him all the way home. Or pullin' the wagon, 'cause he don't uncurl for a while." She sighed. "Kid's gettin' kinda heavy."

They kept trotting or, in the expected case, flapping.

"Still hungry."

Traveling with Rainbow could be somewhat like shopping with a carriage full of newborns who had exceptionally low impulse control.

"And," the pegasus added, "somepony's cooking."

They looked up at her. Sniffed the air...

"From over there," Applejack quickly decided. "The big mansion with all the lights on." She looked more closely. "An' I think Ah see --" squinted in confusion "-- a... really small manticore movin' across the lawn?"

Rarity looked. "Or rather, a pony in a rather fine costume." She sighed. "Look at all the shadows moving behind the largest windows, everypony, and how irregular their shapes are. We are looking at a Nightmare Night party."

"It's still a few days off," Twilight pointed out. "Why would somepony celebrate now?"

"Holiday creep," Pinkie told them. "It's not just having Hearth's Warming gifts for sale on the day after Nightmare Night. There's only so many parties you can host or attend during the holiday. So some of them start a little early." She sniffed the air again. "The catering's good."

They all inhaled again. It was free, if rather low-calorie.

"There's food over there," Rainbow grumbled. "Food and cushioned benches. Couches. Maybe some guest beds. And we're stuck out here. The Heroes Of Equestria, wandering the streets because we can't afford a hotel, we can't even pay for a snack..."

"The cost is expected," Rarity sighed. "I had heard of Maretha's Vineyard, of course. I have always wanted to receive an order from somepony in this area." A slight pause. "The original wish was to open a shop. But given the local rental cost, my label isn't large enough to hold the necessary pass-along price. Just about everypony is rich here, Rainbow, at least for the residents: the workers commute from the mainland."

A few of the others nodded. Those who lived in the Vineyard were known to be rather good at being rich, while those who worked there were often somewhat less adept at being fairly paid.

"On the ferry," Rainbow muttered. "The one which doesn't run at night. There's a party over there and we're not invited. There's even a prize."

"...what do you mean?" Fluttershy asked.

"There's a sign outside the door," the pony with the best eyesight replied. "You're supposed to work out who's under the costumes. Most right guesses gets a prize." Another look. "Maybe if I just swooped in and went right for the buffet table --"

"-- no." That had been accompanied by the stomp of a small purple forehoof. "We don't need any trouble --"

But Rarity's eyes had just gone wide.

"-- i-dea!"

The group looked at her, and not without trepidation.

"We don't need Rainbow to fly in as a thief," the designer smiled. "Not when we can just trot in as guests!"

The trepidation, unable to hold its place against the weight of previous experience, abandoned its post and signaled for the intense worry to move in.

"Look over there," Rarity continued, gesturing a foreleg. "Those ponies -- well, the ponies underneath the miniature hilltop which is large enough for three -- trotting up to the front gate. Fashionably late, of course. There are still guests arriving, guests who are in disguise. And they will not openly identify themselves, because to do so is to give those around them an edge in the contest. They are expected to not say who they are..." She glanced back at them, blue eyes bright and eager. "Follow my lead!" And her legs surged, sent her to the front of the herd, heading towards the gate.

"Rarity," Twilight desperately insisted, "we don't have costumes!"

"We don't need them!" the designer softly called back. "I just figured everything out! Food, company, conversation, perhaps we can even find a guest room somewhere --"

"An' we're gonna be lying!" Applejack frantically cut in. "We ain't invited --"

"-- and let me do the talking!"

It was easy to keep up. It was impossible to stop her, not without a hasty use of Twilight's corona to pull her back or a desperate four-point pressure overhead grab from Rainbow, either of which would have drawn too much attention. And so she reached the gate first, stepping into the pool of light cast by the arcing streetlamp, her trot now steady, controlled, and more than a little haughty.

"At your leave, sir," she told the gatepony, and waited for the iron bars to part before them.

He just looked at her, eyes moving with the unsteady gaze of one who relied more on Orders than Intelligence.

"...and who are you?"

"Ah," Rarity smiled, "that would be telling, and as eavesdropping spells exist, I will not be providing any of my competition with the slightest bit of advantage. If we may go in now?"

It was starting to turn into more of a stare.

"You're saying you're a guest."

"Of course."

He glanced behind her.

"That all of you are guests?"

Rarity calmly nodded.

"Guests," he said, "without disguises."

She lightly chuckled. "Oh, but you are looking at our disguises! For tonight, we are dressed up as the Bearers!"

The gatepony just kept staring.

"...the Element-Bearers," Rarity finally said. "Princess Luna's Return. The changelings. The Empire. That thing with the centaur --"

"-- Element-Bearers," the gatepony carefully repeated.

"Yes," Rarity said. "And that was no simple task. I believe you are aware of how difficult it is to even temporarily maintain the appearance of possessing a different mark?"

Twilight, who knew anything over a few seconds was impossible and so automatically wanted to tell everypony within hearing range all about it, straightened her spine into the pre-lecture pose and started to open her mouth.

Rarity glanced back. Glared.

Twilight's mouth closed.

Back to facing the gatepony. "The expense involved in that... well, I certainly hope you appreciate our efforts there! But after that, some fur dye, a little cosmetic magic, an accessory or two, and we were set! So here we are, as the Bearers. And to work out who we truly are is everypony else's challenge."

The stallion's gaze slowly moved to Applejack.

"Ah," Rarity said. "We had to do some research there. I assure you that is exactly the type of hat which that particular Bearer would wear." Brightly, "Oh, 'Applejack' -- wouldn't you completely agree that the Bearer of Honesty would wear exactly that hat?"

"Well, yeah, of course she -- hey!"

He was now looking at Twilight.

"Papier-mâché for the horn," Rarity brightly continued. "With a minor intermittent glow spell, just for effect. Of course, she has no need to simulate fully-functional wings."

"The point of Nightmare Night costumes," the gatepony eventually said, "is to hide the fact that you're a pony. To conceal yourself from the Nightmare."

"Yes," Rarity agreed. "That would be the usual intent. But rather than hide ourselves from a threat which, incidentally, no longer exists..." Her voice dropped, descending into the twinned tones of conspiracy and confidence. "...why not disguise ourselves as the only ponies in the world who have no need to fear it? Those whom it would flee from?"

He blinked.

And then his expression slowly collapsed.

"Are you quite all right?" Rarity inquired of what seemed to be a genuinely upset stallion. "You look rather as if --"

"-- eavesdropping spells," the distinctly unintelligent pony said. "I've been asking guests for their identities all night. I've even been asking them to show me their invitations. This is only my first week on the job. If anypony figures out that I'm responsible for their contest loss..."

"I assure you," Rarity hastily smiled, "we will not be the ones to reveal your shame." (He looked somewhat relieved.) "So if we may go in?"

By way of response, his hoof stomped on a panel.

"Party of six mares," he smiled. "Enjoy yourselves. Whoever you are."

Rarity magnificently trotted past him. The others, moving at the slightly lower speed of stun, followed, and so the gatepony turned back to his duties. And naturally, he made no attempt to eavesdrop on the newest arrivals (although he was now watching the air for suspicious sparkles), for that would have been wrong. It meant all of the hasty whispers completely escaped his notice, and that was a pity. Proper attention would have significantly cut down on the repair bills.

"Papier-mâché?"

"Did you expect him to believe in a spell which could temporarily conjure fully realistic wings? -- very well, having now spoken to him, we might have gotten away with it. Just do no more than the occasional flash of corona during our stay. We will hardly need spellcasting and when it comes to basic manipulation, I believe you remember how your mouth works?"

"'bout that hat stunt you jus' pulled --"

"-- it is not as if I asked you to lie."

"Ah know. That makes it worse!"

"...we're in trouble, we're going to be in so much trouble..."

"Oh, come on, Fluttershy! We just got into a party!"

"...I know, Pinkie. Am... am I the only pony who remembers how that usually --"

"-- we will merely stay long enough to refresh ourselves, dear. Just remember: we are simply in costume. We do not confess to our true natures and if challenged, we simply -- say who we are. The name attached to our appearance. Is that suitable for your purposes, Applejack?"

"...Ah am so gonna get you for this."

"You're all missing the point."

"Which would be, Rainbow?"

"Free food! Last one to the table gets stuck with my leftovers!"

It worked. (Historically, quite a few of their improvised plans worked, at least for the first thirty minutes.) Yes, they drew quite a few stares upon entrance simply for being the only ponies in attendance to show up as their own species -- but they had a story, and Rarity was rather good at sticking to it. All it took to get the lie moving through the gathering was a pair of extra repetitions and after that, everypony simply accepted that there was a new kind of disguise being tested, something nopony had tried out before and therefore, something that might just turn into a trend in time for the next party. There were mares in attendance, ones where nopony was sure who they truly were -- and that was just part of the game. Multiple guests approached them with their best guesses regarding real names and naturally, they could honestly say every last one of those guesses was wrong -- although one did so while visibly fuming under the hat's brim, added to the occasional mutter of "Ah already told you" or "Oh, when Ah get mah teeth on that purple tail..."

But it was working. They were in. The mansion was warm, the food was free, and some of the (real) disguises were rather remarkable. Those who lived on the Vineyard had money, and so spent freely on magic to enhance their own illusions: something which made the false marks concept considerably easier to sell. The group found themselves looking at fake beaks which properly chattered and zebra stripes expertly dyed into pony fur. The pony who'd decided to attend in the guise of a miniaturized ski resort came with a working chairlift.

It was true that they really couldn't introduce themselves: they were supposed to be merely disguised as the Bearers, after all. But that lack of true identity applied to everypony at the party and in a way, it was almost freeing. They didn't need to worry about acting in an appropriate manner for agents of the palace, or a Princess, or anything other than mares who were at a party. That was how they were treated and after a while, that was how they began to behave. Nopony really believed they were the Bearers, and so all their disguises truly did was inspire topics of conversation.

It could also be said that a group of falling pebbles might inspire an avalanche, but you generally shouldn't say it to whoever the boulders landed on.

"That is a lovely shade of dye, dear."

"...thank you?" Fluttershy carefully tried as all four legs automatically shifted into reverse -- which simply bumped her into one of the many columns which decorated the mansion's main hall for no apparent reason.

"And you're supposed to be the -- Kindness Bearer? I thought I heard somepony say that."

"...yes. Um... I'm sorry, but I think I hear somepony over --"

"-- but really, somepony should have said something to you about those tail extensions."

The one visible eye blinked.

"...sorry?"

"Well, no offense to you, I'm sure you did your best, but that tail is just ridiculous. Who would use extensions to make their tail that long and full? A tail like that... it shouldn't be allowed." More hastily, "And of course, yours is just a mockery, I know, I know! I'm sure you would never be caught out in public with a parody of a tail on any other night."

"...um," said Fluttershy, who had never used an extension in her life, largely for the same reason crystal ponies didn't place very many orders for imported ice.

"Certainly the actual Bearer wouldn't look like that," the mare sniffed. "Nopony with taste and class ever should. And that means the appearance of the true mare has been distorted by a rumor which you, knowing no better, followed as your model. But again, dear -- merely a disguise. I'm certain your actual tail is dignified, short, and sways no more than it should, as befits a proper lady." She smiled. "Really, can you imagine the sort of mare who would voluntarily live like that without having herself docked?"

"That," the stallion told Rainbow, "is a really cool prismatic effect on your tail! How did you manage to keep the dyes away from each other? I'm not seeing a single cross-stain on any strand!"

Oh, so that's your excuse for being caught staring at my butt. Not that she really minded: Rainbow considered herself to be well-worth staring at. "Oh, you know," she grinned. "I'm just that good. Just like the pony I'm -- disguised as. Awesome at everything, at least if it's worth being awesome at."

And now that she was thinking about it -- if the idea of ponies disguising themselves as Bearers caught on...

Ponyville filled with dozens of little mes, all going around gathering tribute.

I should try to get a percentage of that.

The tribute. Not a licensing fee or anything. Getting to pretend you're me is too awesome to put a price on.

The stallion abruptly snickered.

"Well," the pegasus (she thought it was a pegasus: the false timber wolf sides had that certain bulge) added, "it's not a perfect disguise..."

Slowly, "Come again?" Because how could she be anything less than perfect? She was disguised as Rainbow Dash, while actually being Rainbow Dash. One hundred percent authenticity seemed to be guaranteed.

Snickering again, "Where's your cast?"

"Huh?" Completely unheeding of the way her left forehoof had just scraped at the floor.

"Come on!" the stallion enthused. "You've seen the gossip columns! What was it they called her -- oh, right: Rainbow Crash. Always flying headfirst into something! I heard she took out the entire Gala that one year!"

"-- I was -- she was -- there was this statue --"

"-- and do you follow the Wonderbolts? I do. Did you know they stopped calling their 'unable to perform' list the Injured Reserve?" The hidden wings were beginning to twitch with poorly-repressed mirth. "Now it's Rainbow's Roommates."

"Look," she slowly (too slowly) said as her tail began to lash, "she gets missions. Ponies get hurt on missions. Plus there's practicing stunts, creating new stunts, and when you're trying out new stunts, things can --"

"-- oh, yeah! That Rainboom thing!"

"Yeah!" Her tail now had a private wind current. "Just like that --"

"-- everypony knows that doesn't exist! Hidden unicorns in the audience, a few coronas sent into the sky, and suddenly everypony who's stupid thinks there's a new technique out there!" He snorted. "If it was real, anypony could do it!"

"But really," the old stallion lectured Pinkie, "how is Laughter a virtue? Anypony can laugh. Watch. Ha. Ha. Ha. And behold as a necklace does not materialize about my person. And to inspire laughter? I myself managed a rather rare jest the other day. One of my gardeners accidentally stepped into a hole and broke her left hock. I pointed her out to the others at the party, and we laughed and laughed. Oh, and then I fired her, of course, because it was her job to maintain the grounds and there wasn't supposed to be a hole there. Her claim that she had been busy cleaning up after my previous night's match of lawn pool was simply too ridiculous to believe. Only ridiculous in a non-funny way, which I suppose would make her the only pony in the world who could not claim that so-called Element. Really, dear, there are so many true pony virtues which would be more qualified to be among the set. For example, there is Wealth, for money is its own virtue. And Taste, which I assure you is much less common than you might think. Now, I am trying to grant you some benefit of the doubt here, because I saw you at the baked goods table. I witnessed the instinct which not only directed you to the finest of the pastries, but sent that bad batch to the kitchen before anypony became sick -- and don't be concerned: I will know just who to fire before the end of the night. But your disguise... I want to believe that you simply went along with your companions to provide the full set of six. And certainly your true mane would be rather more controlled. Your actual fur less offensive. Your mark possessing more meaning than balloons. And of course, that padding simply makes you appear overweight -- what is that expression? Did you accidentally ingest one of the bad puffs? And here I thought your detection had been on scent alone..."

Applejack thought it was a teenager who was carefully approaching her: the height implied under the layers of fake cabin walls was about right for a teen, and the uncertain tones finally confirmed it.

"Hi," the young mare shyly said.

"Heya," Applejack replied, momentarily distracted from Fantasy #172 in the Vengeance On Rarity Series: inflict them all.

"I just wanted to tell you," the teen carefully continued, "that I'm glad you're here tonight. Even if you're not real." The outhouse-covered head shyly dipped to the right. "Because... you're disguised as my favorite Bearer."

The farmer blinked.

"Really? Ah'm your favorite?"

The teen smiled. "Staying in character, accent and all... Well, I've seen the stories, you know? Like everypony has. In the National Rumor and Examining Gossip. So I know how strong Applejack is. How much she's been through in her life, how much she's suffered." A brief pause, followed by a completely sincere, "The greatest heroines always suffer. That's what makes them great."

"Um," Applejack tried, "Ah ain't sure what you're talkin' 'bout -- "

"Her parents died."

The orange head dipped. "Yeah."

"And then her brother died."

"...beg pardon?"

"When he took that strike from the Nightmare so that she could live to claim her Element? I know a lot of the tabloids just said he went into a coma, but everypony who really follows the Bearers knows he died." A slow head shake, and the tiny outhouse sign shifted to Occupied. "It's so sad. But when you're a heroine, tragedy just follows you everywhere, and it's always those around you who suffer. You just carry the pain of the loss. The endless, unrelenting agony."

"...right," Applejack finally said. "Look, Ah'm guessing that if'fin Ah went t' your home an' checked your bookshelves, Ah'm gonna find a whole lot of stuff 'bout vamponies --"

"-- and then her sister was in that explosion that almost destroyed the town."

"Ain't so!" Applejack protested -- then reexamined the scenario. "Well, depends on how you define 'almost'. An' 'destroyed'. Plus she had help."

"And did you know," the teen tragically continued, "that everypony she sleeps with is doomed to die?"

"Really," Applejack starkly not-quite-asked.

"It was a dying curse from the Nightmare."

"Y'don't say."

"And the worst part? She hasn't figured it out."

"She hasn't?"

A miserable head shake. "Not even after waking up next to four corpses."

"You're sayin'," the farmer tried, "that she's killed four ponies."

"No. The curse has."

"Four."

"Per moon."

"...per moon."

"Well, who wouldn't want to be with her? She's so pretty!" The teen sighed. "I think the curse keeps her from realizing what's happening. Or even hearing when somepony tries to tell her."

"Ah -- wouldn't be so sure of -- "

"But she still has a chance for love!" the teenager beamed. "If she just looks at the right ponies. After all, you know who's already been repeatedly proven immune!"

Applejack blinked.

"Who?"

"So it really lights up?"

Twilight, who had internalized nearly all of the fuming by the fourth request, briefly flashed her corona.

"I didn't even know papier-mâché could be enchanted that way," the bookcase said. (Twilight had eventually decided to spend some time with the closest available approximation to a bookcase. Unfortunately, all of the volumes had been painted on.) "The unicorn who did that must have been really talented." Yellow irises focused on her, doing so from the center of the World Literature section. "And of course, you've got the hard part down already. What with having your own wings."

"The wings aren't the easy part," Twilight managed to agree. "I'm sorry, but this is my first time in this home, and I've been having a -- very long night. Ponies have been -- well, I guess when I'm -- disguised as Twilight Sparkle, I should reasonably expect ponies to tell me what they think of her. Without any of the restraint they would use in the presence of the actual..." She sighed. "Anyway, if you happen to know this place, or if you live here -- no, that's not a guess! -- is there a study I could use? Just for a few minutes of peace and quiet. Because I swear, if I have to hear one more --"

But the bookcase had ignored all of it.

"But you really should have been taller."

She'd heard that twice already.

"The Princess wouldn't be that petite. Not with being an alicorn."

The same.

"Of course, that's not your fault," the bookcase sympathetically said. "There's only so much cosmetic magic can do, especially for height. And build. And rib cage width."

She was forcing herself to stay silent. Having to deal with mere repetition helped.

"Still," the bookcase said, "it's a good disguise, at least for colors and mark. And that horn's a marvel! But if your orange friend just had the wings..." A tiny giggle emerged from somewhere in Classics. "She looks like she has the strength to have sex for four hours every night!"

That part, however, was new.

"Come again?" Twilight slowly said.

The bookcase giggled again. "That's what she says!"

A slow breath shifted the narrow rib cage. "The part about sex -- "

"-- oh, come on! You had to see it while you were researching for your costume! It's in every gossip column! She's sleeping with this Bearer. She's sleeping with that Bearer. She's bedding down with every Bearer! Sometimes all at the same time! She's insatiable!"

"I. Think," Twilight tightly began.

"Because it's not as if the papers would just make things up to make it seem as if a Princess was sleeping around!" Thoughtfully, "Do you think it's because she's an alicorn? Because there wasn't that much about her having sex with everypony in sight before she became one, and I've been reading stories about all the ponies Princess Celestia sleeps with for my whole life." The bookcase's volume dropped. "There are six ponies at this party who told me they'd been in the Solar Bedroom. I should have put out an extra prize for guessing who they are."

"You. May," Twilight forced herself to continue, biting each word as it emerged, "Have. Been. Reading. Some --"

"-- so when you become an alicorn, you get wings, or a horn, or -- both? Do you think it could ever be both? And since you're sort of three ponies in one, you wind up with three times the sex drive! Or nine. It could be exponential --" and then the bookcase stopped. "Oh, no..."

"You're not kidding, 'oh no'," Twilight just barely got out. "If I wasn't a very calm pony --"

"-- I told you I put out the prize! So now you know who I am." The false Research section sighed. "So you just need to rest for a while? I understand. Parties can really tire you out. The study is down that hall: third door on the right. You can nap on the reading couch if you want to. I won't mind." A shift of shelves indicated a shrug. "But I'd like to talk more about the Princess later. Especially if you've heard the story about what she did with Princess Luna. And Princess Cadance. At the same time -- hey, isn't that your friend over there? The white mare who's disguised as -- as... oh, it doesn't matter: the Princess is the only one who's actually important. But she looks like she's getting mad at that manticore. Really mad. Maybe I should go over there and break it up before anything --"

"She insulted my creations! She said I'd never had a worthwhile idea in my life, that she orders my catalog simply to have some extra toilet paper! That anypony who would disguise themselves as the worst fashion designer in Equestria had no more taste than I did! -- wait. I realize that statement makes very little sense at the moment, but if you would just let me explain --"

"Name," the police officer repeated for the third time.

"I told you my name! I told you who all of us are!"

"I have the master guest list," the patrolpony said. "Incidentally entitling me to a fine silverware set if I can just get into disguise before what little you all left intact breaks up." He took a long, pointed look at the fallen columns. "And assuming the silverware wasn't crushed. The current point is that nowhere on this list is a group of six mares. That makes you into party crashers. So just to review: for current charges, we have trespassing, assault, destruction of property --"

"But we're the Bearers!" Rarity desperately insisted.

"A little fur dye," the officer said. "Some brand-new illusion spells which I really want to know about, because anything which can fake a mark is a subject which law enforcement needs a full briefing on. A glow enchantment. And a hat. This supposedly makes you the Bearers."

"If you'd just take this restraint off my horn," Rarity begged, "I could show you my hue as further proof --"

"-- do you know how many unicorn mares have soft blue coronas in this town?" He briefly shifted his attention to Twilight. "And while having one of my rookies waste a restraint on papier-mâché just because they thought they saw a horn might sound bad, it at least shows they're reacting properly. Sanely. As opposed to removing the restraint from a criminal, which would just be nuts. I didn't get any notice that the Bearers would be in the area. The mayor's office doesn't know anything about this. Sure, a few ponies spotted you around town before the party, but you just had to try out your disguises in public, didn't you? So if you're not willing to give up your real names --"

"-- I am Rarity," the designer slowly said. "Rarity Belle, if you need the full appellation. I am the Bearer of Generosity. And that is the truth. For confirmation, you only need ask Applejack, who as Honesty's Bearer could not lie to you --"

"-- and that," the officer cut her off, "is your final claim on the matter?"

"Yes."

The officer's corona took up the pen again, made a few notes on the glow-coated pad.

"Trespass. Assault. Destruction of property."

He paused. Looked up at all of them. Smiled.

"Impersonation of government personnel..."

"Well," Rarity brightly said, "the good news is that when our teleport escort fails to find us at the gatehouse, this will be the first place he checks. So we shouldn't be here too much longer."

Twilight took a deep breath. (The restraint which had been strapped over her horn failed to shift.)

"Yes, Rarity," the little mare said from her position on the bunk closest to the iron bars. "I'm glad we have exactly the kind of reputation which, when we don't turn up somewhere on time, leads ponies to automatically head for the nearest holding cell. Where we just happen to actually be, as we've recently been arrested for pretending to be ourselves. Thank you very much for reminding me of that."

Rarity frowned. "Have you noticed that you become sarcastic when you're tired?"

"Oh, really?"

"Come on, everypony," Pinkie sighed. "It really shouldn't be for much longer. We can get along with each other in a confined space with literally no escape or chance for privacy, when we're all stuck with the pony whose fault this totally is and anything we try for revenge would be -- anyway, we're okay until dawn, right?"

"There is something rather worrisome about your phrasing," Rarity decided. "Pinkie, are you familiar with the term 'egregious provocation'?"

"No. What does that mean?"

"It means," Rarity firmly said, "the fake manticore had it coming."

Rainbow, who'd claimed the highest bunk, flopped over onto her back. "Pinkie, if it hadn't been Rarity kicking somepony, it would have been me. In about five more minutes or one more pony, whichever came first."

"Really?" Pinkie asked. "Why?"

"Because..." The pegasus wriggled a little, trying to find a good position and better words. "Because the disguises worked. I mean, they worked because ponies thought we were disguised. That we weren't us. So they said all the things they would say about us, but -- not in front of us." She frowned. "Does anypony understand what I mean there? They just talked about us like we weren't there, only we were."

Twilight softly sighed. "I get it, Rainbow. I was on the receiving end of it, over and over."

"It wasn't all bad," Pinkie decided. "I had some ponies tell me all about how it was time somepony dressed up as us, because -- being a hero is a pretty good disguise. I wish I could make myself look like one sometimes. But a few of them..."

A slow nod from Applejack. "Got some respect. Fifthhoof respect, since nopony thought Ah was me. But Ah also found out how much ponies don't know about us. Some of the stuff they tell themselves, or jus' want t' believe."

"...they told me that Fluttershy was very brave," said Fluttershy.

"That's good to hear," Twilight replied, and managed a smile.

"...mostly for going out in public," the caretaker finished. "...but also for that thing with the centaur."

Everypony sat (or lay, or curled up) in silence for a while.

"Well," Rarity finally declared, "mission accomplished."

"Hours ago," Rainbow huffed.

"No. The other mission. We are not wandering the streets in autumn chill. We have a roof, heat, a place to sleep, and they should serve us breakfast before we make bail. So in that, I declare the evening a success and accordingly, I?" She adjusted her position on the bunk. "Am going to sleep. Good night..."

Blue eyes closed. And within two minutes, she was out cold.

Five ponies looked at her. Thought about how a mare who was so good at talking them into trouble could also talk them out of it. Everything she'd brought to the group: both for the missions and on a personal level. Regarded a mare who was, at the end of all things, their friend.

Applejack shifted position on her bunk. Pitched her voice into a whisper.

"So who's up for talking revenge?"

And then there were plotting ponies tightly clustered around Twilight's bunk.

Three days later, a story began making the gossip column rounds about an upcoming group marriage, one where a certain tail-knotted mare was clearly on the outs. And other than the less-than-subtle requests that they reimburse the palace for at least some of the mansion's repair charges, it was all the Bearers heard about for the next two weeks.

(The holding cell guard who looked in on that plotting moment, came away with exactly the wrong impression, and followed that by immediately contacting her friend in the press swore she had nothing to do with it.)