‘Almost…almost…’ It took a nearly unnatural amount of concentration for what was once a simple, enjoyable task. Blythe’s last few attempts at designs (if you could even call them that) had ended up as squiggly, horribly deformed shadows of the clean, crisp, fashion-forward masterpieces that she once created with ease and grace.
Now however…
*Crack!*
The tip of the pencil wedged between her teeth snapped off, prompting a new round of groans from the ex-human pegasus. Never before had she realized what a blessing having hands were; having the ability to grasp and manipulate objects without any need for magic or special equipment. For the last few hours, she had desperately tried to figure out how to hold a pencil with only her mouth, and only now was she discovering that her new foe, pressure sensitivity, would not be so easily conquered.
She was saved from any further agonizing battles against artistic technique by the ringing of the Carousel Boutique’s front bell, meaning either Rarity had returned from picking up Sweetie Belle, or there was a customer in the shop. Either way, Blythe abandoned her (admittedly doomed) attempts to create and went to play shopkeeper.
She was relieved when Rarity’s curly purple mane was the first thing to catch her eye walking into the storefront. Sweetie Belle was trotting happily behind her elder unicorn sibling, speaking animatedly with two fillies that Blythe didn’t recognize.
“Oh, good evening darling,” Rarity greeting warmly. “How goes your…um…adaptation to new design processes?” If there was one thing about Rarity Blythe was grateful for, it was the fact that she had the ability to remain subtle when dealing with sensitive topics. Her first few attempts to design a simple dress using only her mouth had been…less than pleasant for all parties involved. It still brought a blush to her face when she thought about it.
“It goes,” Blythe responded somewhat morosely. “I still wish I had asked to be a unicorn if I had known that it would be this hard to do something so simple without magic.”
“Well, earth ponies have been using tools with only their jaws for years, so it isn’t impossible if that’s of any comfort. It’ll just take some time to get used to, that’s all.”
“Still, though. I wish I had my old hands back. ‘You never know what you’ve got until it’s gone’, I suppose.” A saying Blythe was sympathizing with more and more with the longer she remained a pegasus.
“Hands,” Rarity inquired curiously, “And what exactly are those, dear?”
“Uhm…well…” Blythe faltered. How do you explain what hands are to somebody who had never seen them before? “They’re kind of like hooves…but… well…” This was tougher than she thought.
“Imagine a hoof, okay?” Rarity nodded in understanding. “Then kind of imagine…like…five more little hooves coming out from the edge of that one hoof…” Rarity grimaced a bit, reminded of another certain…incident in which she had actually witnessed that exact thing. “…only there’s two joints in the little hooves, so they can bend and flex.”
Rarity’s scrunched-up face betrayed her attempts to appear as though she understood exactly what was being described to her. After a moment though, her eyes lit up in comprehension. “Ooh! Like Spike’s claws?”
“Uh, yeah...,” She said, remembering Twilight’s little assistant and his long, wickedly sharp-looking digits. “Yeah! Kind of like Spike’s claws, but longer and more blunt at the ends.”
“Well, if your ‘hands’ were anything like Spike’s little claws, then I can see how it would be difficult to…”
“Did you have hands when you were human, Blythe?” an innocent little voice piped up from behind the two mares.
Blythe and Rarity jumped a bit at Sweetie Belle’s unexpected intrusion into their conversation. Blythe sighed in relief, while Rarity grew flustered from the sudden scare. Before either knew what was happening, all three fillies began pelting Blythe with questions such as “What’s a whoo-man?” “Is it some kind of monster?” “What did you do to get turned into a pony?”.
“STOP!!” Blythe shouted, overwhelmed by the inquisitive blitz of three young ponies. She shook her head to clear it and focus on one question at a time. “Okay, first of all…”
“That wasn’t your secret to share, Sweetie Belle,” Rarity interjected crossly. “Or didn’t you learn anything from the whole ‘Gabby Gums’ incident?” All three young fillies looked down at the floor, but only Sweetie Belle blushed in shame at that memory. Blythe made a mental note to ask about it later, for now she had to quell the suspicions that Rarity had confirmed.
“And yes, I was a human when I came here. But…”
“See? I told you! Twilight turned her into a pony so she wouldn’t scare anypony with her big freaky human body!” Sweetie Bell seemed to swell with pride when her friends realized that what they had assumed was a brief bout of comic-book induced sci-fi fever was, in fact, the truth.
“I don’t know about big and freaky,” Blythe said with a touch of annoyance, “But yeah, Twilight made me a Pegasus so nobody...” ‘Ergh! Gotta watch that…’ “I mean nopony would get scared and cause a panic.”
“So…y’all are really an alien?” the red-maned cream-coated filly asked, eyes wide.
“Um…yeah. Yeah, I guess I am.” Blythe certainly wasn’t ignorant of her foreigner status in Equestria, but when it was put like that, it was a bit…discomforting. “I’m sorry, and you are…?”
“My name’s Apple Bloom, and that there’s…” Blythe jumped yet again as Apple Bloom was cut off by a sudden shriek of indignation from behind her.
“Scootaloo, what’s wrong?!” Sweetie Belle asked, suddenly alert for anything.
“That’s totally not fair!” The orange filly sat staring with an angry gaze at Blythe’s hindquarters. Blythe found it rather odd for anyone to stare at another’s butt, that much was certain; but she certainly wasn’t going to comment on it. For all she knew, it was normal for talking ponies to stare at each other’s backsides.
“What, what is it? Did I do something wrong?”
“No! But you’re not even a real pony and you get one? How is that supposed to work?!”
“Get one what? Rarity, what is she talking about?” Blythe was even more confused now than she was moments earlier.
“Oh, dear. She means your cutie mark, darling,” Rarity added, exasperated by Scootaloo’s obtuse comment.
“What the what?” Blythe turned around to where Scootaloo was pointing a hoof and pouting. There, marked on her flank was a spool of purple thread and a pencil leaning across it.
Blythe stared at the emblem for a moment before asking, "How did I not notice that before? Where did it even come from? What the heck is it?!"
Recognizing the telltale signs of a panic attack, Rarity stepped in to assuage Blythe's fears. "Blythe, it’s okay! It’s just your cutie mark. Everypony has one; it’s nothing to be worried about.”
Blythe cocked an eyebrow in confusion. “Cutie mark? What, is that like some sort of tattoo?”
“Tatt...? Oh, no, no! Nothing quite so...barbaric. Yeuk!” Rarity’s face scrunched up for a moment in disgust at the thought of some hulking stallion shaving his own coat just to have some ink-mark perforated into his skin for the sake of being intimidating or ‘cool’.
“Let me explain it for you. It’s so hard to remember that you’re not really a pony sometimes. A cutie mark represents a pony’s special talent; their passion in life, what they were born to excel at above all others. Everypony has a cutie mark that is unique to him or herself, and no two are ever exactly alike.”
Scootaloo grumbled a bit, seemingly offended by Rarity’s choice of words. “But for some little ponies, it can take longer than others for them to discover what their special talents are,” she added, giving a quick apologetic nuzzle to the upset filly.
Blythe turned back around to examine her own cutie mark once again. Now that she really looked at it...she found that she rather liked it quite a bit. She could see how the spool of thread represented her ability to craft clothes and outfits, and the pencil exemplified her artistic ability to put those outfits on paper long before she even begun to create them. If she were to choose an emblem or insignia for herself, she would be quite happy with the odd phenomenon called a ‘cutie mark’.
After admiring her own for a few moments, a thought occurred to her. “But wait, so...what does your cutie mark mean, Rarity?”
“Moi? Oh, well my cutie mark represents my own personal ability to add glamor and elegance to any ensemble or outfit with rare and beautiful jewels and gems!” Rarity explained, boasting a bit to her new friend.
“Really? But...I haven’t seen any gems in the outfits you’ve designed so far...” In fact, she hadn’t seen any gems at all since she walked into the boutique.
“Well, perhaps not any of my normal outfits, no. But for something like...this,” here she pulled a ponykin, garbed in an elaborate dress from behind one of the boutique’s draping curtains. “I believe it adds that extra little bit of ‘pop’! Don’t you agree?”
Rarity smiled knowingly as Blythe starred in slack-jawed awe. There, studded in the red and white fabric of the dress, were a multitude of diamonds and rubies gleaming in the boutiques’ perfectly arranged dramatic lighting. Being a dressmaker and designer, Blythe could see the minute details that few others could, and what she saw astounded her.
The little gems were seamlessly integrated with the fabric, as though they were melded together, almost naturally fused with each other. Never before in her whole life had she seen anything like it, even the most talented and exquisite fabric designers on earth could not imitate what she saw here. “Rarity...I...that’s...that’s incredible! How did you make that?!”
Rarity giggled at Blythe’s astonishment, “Well, if you must know...It’s magic,” She said, winking slyly at her.
“Wow...” Blythe glanced again at the triple-diamond cutie mark on her friend’s flanks, only slightly embarrassed by that fact that she was staring at a friend’s backside. After another moment of thought though, she realized something. “So, what about Sweetie Belle and her friends? You said everypony has a cutie mark, why not them?” She desperately hoped that she hadn’t touched on some sort of disability or disease amongst ponies, the last thing she needed was to appear insensitive on top of being ignorant.
“Well, nopony is simply born with a cutie mark, darling. As soon as a filly or colt experiences what their special talent is, their cutie mark appears on their flanks, and remains there forever.”
“That’s why we made the Cutie Mark Crusaders,” Sweetie Belle explained, only to be interrupted by Scootaloo. “To find all of our special talents,” “And earn our cutie marks!” Apple Bloom finished excitedly.
“Do you want to help us, Blythe?” Blythe looked into Sweetie Belle’s eyes, anticipation in her gaze, and very nearly agreed; before she saw Rarity shaking her head and waving her hooves in a ‘don’t do it’ manner.
“Uh, sorry Sweetie...I’d better go take care of Zoe and Opal for a little bit. Maybe some other time, okay?” It broke her heart to see the sad look on the little filly's face, but Rarity hadn’t steered her wrong yet, and she was Sweetie’s sister...she had to know more about what ‘crusading’ exactly meant than anybody else did.
Besides, she really did need to check on Zoe and Opalescence to make sure that they didn’t kill each other. The white feline reminded her of a certain pair back on earth that could irritate even the most kind, peaceful, pacifist monks...
She cantered into the back room of the boutique which conveniently doubled as the kitchen, and immediately balked at going any further. There, next to the sink on one side of the room was Zoe, fully decked out in military green outfit (where she managed to get her paws on it was a mystery) and a camouflaged kevlar helmet, complete with a few branches attached in random spots. The violet canine was glaring across the room at Opal who was dressed in nothing, but sat upon the dining room table with bits of what appeared to be egg dripping from her face, ears, and fur.
~How...how dare you, you...you...miserable flea-bitten canine! You shall pay for that!!~ Opal did not seem to be very happy, and Blythe could hazard a guess that it was Zoe who threw the egg at the infuriating feline.
“Bring it on, sister! I’m not afraid of any prissy little kitty cat! This is WAR!” Zoe shouted back, eager to bring the battle to the enemy. Blythe paled as she noticed foodstuffs piled high behind both pets, and quickly decided that kitchen warfare was not anything she wished to be a part of.
Blythe decided that perhaps she could give ‘crusading’ a try as the sounds of edible ammunition finding their targets faded into the background. It certainly couldn’t be worse than getting caught up in the impromptu Pet Combat League, right?
Rarity couldn’t help but stare as Blythe and the Cutie Mark Crusaders walked through the boutique, dripping what appeared to be water and some viscous slime everywhere. The crusaders celebrated their latest disasterpiece by talking animatedly about how ‘awesome’ it was, while Blythe stalked her way to the bathroom, presumably to clean herself up.
As she passed, the unicorn parted her lips to inquire about her venture, only to be cut off by the Pegasus’ curt tone, “Don’t. Ask.”
Rarity shut her mouth with a snap, and simply smiled knowingly at the retreating pony’s irate form.
‘Looks like Blythe learned that some little ponies take earning their cutie marks very seriously,’ she thought to herself as she went to assist with cleaning up Sweetie Belle and her friends.
THE END
Author's Note
Takes place during the events of "Chapter 10: History Lesson".
