Ponies in a Place, Until a Timeby HiddenBronyChaptersApplejack and the Manger of the SistersUncle Clockwork Orange and Inkimeena Elizabeth PieA Voice in the BelfryApplejack and the Manger of the Sisters“This is really too much,” the lanky unicorn swooned in the desert heat, her magic levitating a dainty fan full of priceless Wonderbolt pegasus down. “Is it always this way with you?” Her back was against the solid wooden door of an old warehouse, far outside Dodge Junction. To her left stood a solid orange Earth Pony, decked out in a billowing brown duster that hugged her muscled flank just a little too unfairly. The entire ensemble was capped off with a tanned cowboy hat resting on a blonde mane tied up in a ponytail. “I thought I had my fill of this adventuring business at the Airship depot.” Applejack smirked, her eyes glancing over the scene before them. Roughly a dozen armed unicorns in black uniforms stood in a semicircle around them, each with their horns glowing a sickly green color that stung the eyes. “Sorry there, miss Fleur De Lis. Can’t say Ah’m entirely as down ta Earth as my heritage would lead you to believe.” The unicorn snorted her disapproval. “Now don’t be like that, Ah got this under control.” “I would hardly call a Marexican firing squad under control, Applejack,” Fleur hissed, her priceless fan wavering as she pressed up against the mare, much to her own displeasure. “How do we even get out of this?” “Past experience? Dumb luck.” Fleur sighed, her head drooping low. “I should have never let Fancy Pants talk me into this. I could have been enjoying caviar in Canterlot right now!” Applejack’s steely eyes unfocused a moment as she turned to her companion. “Caviar? Ain’t that raw fish eggs or something?” Fleur’s face twisted into something between disgust and confustion, “I-i-i-It is not!” “No, it totally is,” one of the unicorns said, before he was quickly shushed by the others. Applejack grinned. “Ya see there? Fish eggs.” Fleur made as if to argue, but all her mouth could do was come up with some unintelligible garble as her tongue reeled in disgust against her will. As she struggled to keep her revolting appendage from absconding from her mouth, and the contents of her lunch from reflexively following suit, Kicks McGee was stealthily checking the door behind them for weak points. Bucks McGilligan was performing a song and dance, expertly flowing the duster around Applejack’s legs to hide his brother’s good work. “Hoo wee, I didn’t know you types could talk!” Applejack ragged, a smirk playing on her face. “Who knows, y’all might have some use after all!” “Silence, prisoner!” The only unicorn with the good sense to wear a helmet shouted, obviously playing the leader of his squad. “You are to remain still until the Qu-” “Yeah, sorry, but I got other things to do. Fleur, please duck if’n you please.” Applejack hadn’t needed to give the order, it seemed, as the lanky unicorn soon doubled over as she wretched out her lunch in front of her. As the assembled squadron of unicorns reeled in disgust at the display, Applejack got her boys to work. In a flash of strength and cunning, the farmer’s hindlegs rendered the door behind her off it’s hinges. Instead of flying back, however, the door instead kicked out from underneath, the top of the door lurching forward toward Applejack, Fleur, and the group of unicorns. In a mess of screams and scrambles, the unicorns began to shoot wild magical energy every which way but helpful. However, Applejack sprung into action, grabbing the tail of her accomplice with practised gusto and dove under and to the side of the collapsing doorframe. Fleur could only yelp and gargle as she was suddenly and unceremoniously ripped from the spot she had just come to terms with dying at. Applejack took only a moment to look back as the heavy door slammed into the ground with a thud, effectively taking out a number of the unicorns with it. However, as the dust settled, the unicorns in black gear that had been dispatched soon turned a glossy black, revealing changeling exoskeletons to be sticking out from under the wood. “Just as I suspected!” Applejack grunted with a satisfied smirk. As the undamaged changelings started to make sense of their situation, Applejack turned with a smirk on her face. At least, right up until she was faced with the intense glare from a very posh and very real and very angry unicorn. Fleur’s breath smelled not unlike some forgotten sand pit as a piece of broccoli refused to be removed from her teeth. “What was that!?” With an infallible smile, Applejack kicked her legs into gear. “Quick thinkin’! Now it’s time ta be quick movin’, if ya like! I doubt them changelings are gonna be mighty pleased with you standin’ over them like that!” With no immediate words in her mouth, Fleur only hissed at Applejack as the mare dove into the full warehouse. She was about give the mare what for, until a very real bolt of green energy blasted past her snout, the excess magic off the changeling’s burst causing a small amount of hair to grow across her nose. Now wearing a very convincing lip warmer, Fleur whinnied and took off running, faster that Applejack would ever give a pony credit for. “Applejack! You horrid, ungrateful, wretch of a pony! If I get my hooves on you—” “Gotta catch me first, sugarcube!” Applejack yeehaw’d her way through the old wooden boxes, her eyes scanning for further danger from the changelings. It made sense that her old foe would be after her, even now. It was just something that screamed of adventure, to have some easily evil foe with faceless armies come after you. Sure was absolutely certain that Rainbow Dash would have killed to be in her position. “Quick, over here!” “Oh sure, like anywhere is safe in this dusty old building!” Fleur cried out behind Applejack, her graceful frame doggedly attempting to keep pursuit behind the farmer. “They’re so many more of them than us, and my magic isn’t used to shoot bolts! It’s to... It’s to–” Fleur cut herself off, skidding to a halt and looking about wildly. “Oh no! I’ve lost it!” she screamed, her eyes looking worriedly back from where she had come. “I have to get it back!” However, as she was about to turn about, a revoltingly familiar sensation came from her flank as she felt her tail get a hefty yank from behind. “You!” Fleur cried, her eyes glaring hard at Applejack. “How many times must I tell you never to grab me there!” “Well, keep a move on, then! It’s much more polite than grabbing the mess that comes out the back of your head. ‘Could cause injury,” Applejack stated simply, adding a small smile to the remark for free. “Not that there’s much to harm up there.” “Excuse me!?” “Changelings, sugarcube.” Fleur gritted her teeth as the pony in the duster took off running, and followed suit quickly. “How are we even going to find this Manger of the Sisters, anyway? This place is gigantic!” Applejack laughed, her tail being the only thing Fluer could see as she rounded bend after bend. “Guess it’ll come down to dumb luck. Y’all alright back there, girl? Yer lip warmer’s looking a bit depressed.” “Oh yes, quite fine. Nothing gets a girl revved up for some archeology like looking down the barrel of a horn and running clueless inside a warehouse where you’re being gunned down by mustache growing freaks.” “Whatever floats your boat, missy!” Fleur’s face twisted, a single cheek blowing up with air as she attempted to chew her tongue. “Sarcasm, you uncultured swine!” “Ah’ll have you know Ah got plenty o’ pigs at home more cultured than any of you Canterlot Elite back home on the farm,” No matter the insult, no matter the whine, that insufferable earth pony had a quip to go with it, and it was wearing thin on the model’s patience. Applejack’s attention went skyward as she noticed some of the changelings had dropped all pretense of a unicorn special operations team, or USOT, and had gone airborne on their chitinous wings. Fleur was about to open her mouth to protest something like her hooves starting to hurt when the lights went out. “Aaaah!” “Whoa there!” A crash. A buck. “That doesn’t go there!” “What doesn’t what now?” A flip and a latch. “Ugh, really, can’t a girl get kidnapped without sexual innuendo?” “Wait, what?” The lights flickered back on as Applejack found her charge in the middle of a group of changelings attempting to tie Fleur up. However, what the they hadn’t seem to expected was the six or so unconscious changelings surrounding Applejack. “Y’all wanna try running that by me again?” Unfortunately, the lights flicked off again. And by the time they were on again, Applejack was at the center of about ten more unconscious changelings, and standing across from a mirror image of herself. “Yer serious?” A quick buck quickly dispatched the remaining changeling. “Fleur?” she asked aloud, looking around her. Luckily, the lanky model was no worse for wear, just a few ropes tied around her legs and muzzle. Approaching her, Applejack smirked. “Well then, as much as I like the peace and quiet for a change...” Quickly setting to work, Applejack released the bounded unicorn with experienced hooves, dejectedly removing the muzzle with a show of great disheartenment. “Oh ha ha, very funny, Applejack,” Fluer chuckled hoarsely. “You should be a comedian.” Magic flaring, the unicorn brought her fan up to her face, fanning it mercilessly. “And now what do we do? Wait for more changelings?” Tipping her hat, Applejack looked around the warehouse for any immediate threats. “Naw, shouldn’t be much of a problem now. Ah think Ah handled them fairly well.” “Really?” Fleur asked, her eyes sharpening. “This whole warehouse, and you think you got them all.” Applejack turned her back to the unicorn, her eyes peeled across the floor. “Ah reckon not all of ‘em, but I handled quite a few of them. It’d be foolhardy to try ‘n charge me now.” Fleur’s eyes flashed a malicious green as she approached Applejack silently from behind. “Yes, I guess you’re right, Applejack.” “Ah know Ah’m right,” Applejack smirked. Bucks McGilligan had a bet with Kicks McGee on who could knock out Chrysalis first. A bet he happily won as Applejack’s hind legs connected against the lanky unicorn’s face with a satisfying crack. With a spin, Applejack looked down at the prone form of the changeling Queen with a smirk. “Ah’ve been waiting a long time to do that.” Galloping over to a displaced crate, she pushed the lid aside and looked in. Muzzled and tied up, the real Fleur grunted as Applejack quickly took the muzzle off. “Applejack, you horrid... why’d you let them put me in a box!” “‘Cause it made me smile,” Applejack smirked. “Plus I got their leader good. Ah think it’s safe now.” “So now we have to find the Manger of the Sisters in a giant warehouse.” “Ah reckon not.” Fleur’s face fell. “You’re kidding. All this work and danger and you’re not going to look?” Applejack chuckled. “Nah, don’t need to. Look what you’re lying in, Fleur.” Looking down, the mare quickly realized she had been placed, rather gently, on top of a rather old looking manger meant for two. “Oh you have got to be kidding me.” Applejack grinned, tipping her hat. “Dumb luck.” Author's Note The characters of Applejack and Fleur-De-Lis were suggested by Saddlesoap Opera. The location a busy warehouse was suggested by Aurora Dawn. Applejack in a duster and cowboy hat, a flighty broad for a companion, and stuck in a warehouse? Let's get some Appleoosa Jack up in here! Uncle Clockwork Orange and Inkimeena Elizabeth Pie“I really must rule in favor of the defendant. The Pie Rock Farm remains in the hands of the Pie family, and in light of the surprising evidence brought forth by the youngest Pie member, I am also order that all court charges will be paid in full. Court adjourned.” Shouts of joy and more than a few celebratory party cannons fired off as the Pie family heaved a collective sigh of relief. Six months, six whole months of bickering over land ownership when the rich Orange family approached the farm with a deed claiming ownership of the farm. Scare after scare, the Pie’s fought to protect their home, but it wasn’t until Inkie Pie, the littlest Pie, came to court with a substantial piece of evidence– the Oranges had thrown some substantial influence around and had managed to smudge some records, much to the surprise of everypony in attendance. Granny Smith had been quick to blacklist the Oranges from the family, citing their kind was much too different from the wholesome Apples, and would no longer tolerate their acidic influence. However, the matron of the Orange family denounced her husband, claiming ignorance, and took back her old Apple name. Clockwork Orange was alone now, as the courtroom emptied of everypony. The Pies and the Apples had left together to discuss the win, and perhaps even talk business, if the spark in the eyes of Applejack and Blinkie were any indication. As the chatter of ponies died down all around the courthouse, Clockwork could only stare numbly forward. It wasn’t right. No, it simply wasn’t. He was a self-made stallion. He earned the love of that wonderful Apple mare and he made a fortune on the stocks. He was a captain of industry, revolutionizing orange-powered timekeepers. And here he was. Made a mockery of. A fool. Because those stone-spitting Pies’ dumb luck. It wasn't his fault. He had ordered the original documents ripped apart. Taken care of. Disposed. Clockwork's eye twitched. It was all supposed to be gone. This would wreck his social image. His stocks would fall. His mind reeled as he realized that every underhanded trick he used to get to the top would be unearthed now. They would find his dirty laundry. His skeletons in the closet. And they would laugh. Laugh like that stupid pink pony did when her little sister presented the original documents. The testimony of that little rat that hadn't shredded the documents. He couldn't stand her laughter. His eyes forgot how to blink. His face started to stretch back. It was funny, in its own way. Tragically funny. It was all a bit tragic. They farmed rocks. Rocks for Celestia's sake– and they turned a profit! He started to smile. It didn't make sense. Perhaps it never did. Maybe if never would, either. No, to win in this world meant that you had to create your own sense of real. He had tried to do in as best he could within reason, but maybe that was his problem. Reason had no place here, with the rock farms and the little fillies who could take down an entire family with a piece of paper. He chuckled, the statue of a pony with a blindfold over her eyes taking up his entire vision. His eyes dried, forcing tears to fall uselessly down his face. That was true sense. Everything was blind. Who was to say that somepony couldn't just walk up to her and upset the balance. His chuckles turned hoarse. He started to laugh. “I don't feel right about this, Mr. Orange.” Clockwork spun on his hooves, chuckling under his breath. “Two hundred bits says that doesn't matter, and come tomorrow morning, my ancestry is shown to own the rights to that stupid patch of land.” Blue Book looked down at the papers his employer had put down in front of him. The fudged documents could hardly be even called that– they looked so official, and properly aged. Wherever Clockwork had gotten this, they were professionals, and as Blue Book knew, that meant they were not to be trifled with. Not by a single pony with a desk job. “T-two hundred bits. But, sir, doesn't a family live on that land?” “That's really no concern of mine. Or of yours.” “But—“ Clockwork gave him a smile. Blue Book said no more. You never, ever argued with a smiling Orange. “Y-yes sir. I mean no sir! No concerns. Whatsoever.” “Good. See to it nopony sees you, or I'll have to find someone better suited for something like this. And maybe less disposable.” Orange closed the door behind him as he left, but he could still hear the pony on the other side gulp loudly. Clockwork smiled even wider. “I swear! I swear I didn't do anything!” Blue Book screamed, his world had turned upside down in moments, his hooves still clutching the documents to his chest. “I'm just moving these to storage!” “Storage?” A deep voice grumbled. Without hesitation, a dark hoof raked the papers from Blue Book's grasp. The deskpony whimpered as his mind raced for excuses. If this pony knew anything about what they were holding, then he was done for. Caught in the act. Red hoofed. Which really clashed with his blue color scheme. “These are land rights. Made out to the Pie Family. That's the case currently being argued in Ponyville.” Silence. Blue Book was certainly happy he had relieved himself prior to being accosted, less he had wet his bonds by now. “I-I-I-I—“ “The Oranges claim to own that land through ancestral claims. But this says different. Why would somepony like you have access to something like this.” “I don't know! I don't!” “I don't believe you. Do you know what happens to ponies who lie to me?” Blue Book wanted to cry. So he did. “OooohhhhooooooCelestia whhhy, I swear I didn't mean for this to happen!” “For what, speak slowly. You might walk out of this unharmed...” He sniffled loudly, then looked at the ground for inspiration. Or more for the fact the blood that was rushing to his head had become too heavy to try and hold up anymore. “Well, it all started when Clockwork Orange came into my work near closing hours...” Inkie Pie stared up at the large blue stallion before her. Despite his height, he was really quite gangly, a rare sight for an Earth Pony. “Sir?” “Look, I don't have a lot to say, but, um.” Blue Book coughed. This investigative little filly stared up at him with big, amethyst eyes and bored into him. There was no way he could hold back on this now. Besides, if he didn't then... then that masked vigilante might come back. “I have these papers...” “And then Inkie came in with these papers and saved the day! It was stupendously awesome!” Pinkie shouted, her smile breaking the normal limits of what a pony's face could stretch. Inkie blushed, trying to hide her face behind her hair. “I, I didn't do much, Pinkie. I just got lucky, is all.” Applejack patted the youngest Pie on the back heartily, giving her a celebratory whoop for effect. “Aw, lookit her, she's so modest. Y'all really did save your family, so why not take a little credit for it.” “Yeah sis, if it weren't for you and that Blue Book guy, we'd be homeless!” Blinkie said, taking a long drag of cider. Her face twitched a little from the taste, somewhere in-between extreme ecstasy and thoughtful deliberation. “Take some pride in it! And some Cider. Hey AJ, can I get another glass?” “Sure thing, sugarcube.” Inkie smiled as the gathered ponies laughed and celebrated, allowing herself a small smile as the ponies continued to play. Clockwork Orange stood over the toppled statue, the stone knife the mare had held clamped firmly in his jaws. He was still laughing. The dust and dirt from the crumbled statue stung his eyes, but he refused to blink. He looked toward the door. Covered in white dust from the broken statue, he cantered towards the setting sun, burning his retinas as he passed through the door. As night fell, Inkie looked over to where her sisters were sleeping. Blinkie had her muzzle stuck in her pillow, muffling any snores she might have been making, but Pinkie had her mouth open wide, her snores shaking the cookie jars on the nearby shelf. But Inkie wasn't in bed. Behind her mask, the protector of the night gave her sisters one last parting look, before bounding off into the inky blackness. A Voice in the BelfryPonyville at night was a much different beast than the Ponyville during the day. Where ponies would laugh and frolic under the sun, the night was quiet, betraying the energy that it relished in when the foals would play. That wasn’t to say that Ponyville was dead. No, the dark made it easier to hide its secrets. Atop a building on the edge of town sat a belfry with no easy access. Many ponies chalked it up to have been built by Pegasi, but those in the know around Ponyville knew not only how to access it, but the reason for its existence. They knew how to use the bell. It was on a late summer’s eve that one such pony appeared on the roof of the abandoned building. She wore no markings, sans her candy wrapped cutie-mark, and carried nothing with her. Reaching the belfry, she looked towards the ground below to see if any pony had happened upon her sneaking this night. It had taken everything she had to sneak out with alerting her flatmate tonight. Slipping into the belfry, BonBon snaked across the floor until she stood next to the bell itself. She watched the night pass with as an unwavering sentry. She gave the bell a quick tap with her hoof, producing a low knell. She wondered if that was loud enough, and with enough waiting, she tapped the bell again, this time a bit more forcefully. When nothing happened again, BonBon got on her feet and bucked the clumsy thing, producing a loud broooooonnnnngggg to echo out into the night. BonBon herself had difficulty stopping herself from shaking from the reverberations, her body tense from the loud noise. She wondered if her contact had heard that. Or rather, if anypony hadn’t heard. However, she hadn’t waited long. Hearing the heavy beat of wings, her muscles relaxed. She turned to face the north. “It’s about time, Thun—” she stopped. A pale colt stood on the edge of the belfry, his grey-blue streaked hair nearly black in the moonlight. Strapped across his neck was an impossibly large duffel bag. “Free Candy.” BonBon froze, “Wha-what?” The pegasus rose an eyebrow. “Free Candy, right? Brother said there would be Free Candy here.” There was a long silence. The small pegasus colt’s eyebrows started to raise higher. “Oh! My alias! Yes! I’m Free Candy,” BonBon breathed, rolling her eyes in relief. “Um, what should I be calling you?” The small colt perked up. “Oh, Big Bro says I’m too young to have a codename yet. Just Rumble’s fine.” BonBon’s face fell. How open was Thunderlane with his brother about their business that he would send him out on runs with his real name. Maybe– Maybe Thunderlane trusted her enough to use real names? However, as she considered this, she quickly realized that she already knew everypony’s real names, making the codenames a moot point. “Ponyfeathers.” “Bro says I can’t say that word yet,” Rumble chimed in, breaking BonBon’s concentration. Her eyes trailed to the bag around the young colt’s neck, her eyes bulging. “Oh! Is... is that it?” she asked. Rumble nodded. “O-Oh! Did your brother... he told you what was in the bag?” Rumble shook his head. BonBon looked relieved for a moment, but furrowed her brow. “Well if you didn’t look, how do you know if you have it?” Rumble shrugged. “Bro said it was in here, and I trust him with that.” Her eyes never left the duffel bag. If Rumble knew what lay inside, it would kill her. The scandal! If some foal– “But I looked anyway. It’s weird looking.” BonBon lost all color in her face. “It-It is not!” “Yeah it is. Actually, it looks a lot like my—” “Where is your brother!?” BonBon nearly screamed, not wishing to have this conversation with a colt. “What would he think if you were looking at things like this!?” Rumble shrugged nonchalantly. “He has a room full of these things. I think he collects them.” BonBon’s mouth unhinged and just hung loosely. A room? That was her dream if she could have something like that... and it would explain why he always had them at the ready. “S-s-So you see these things all the time?” She still did not want to have this conversation with Rumble. He perked up and nodded with gusto, his wings spreading out. “Oh yeah! I think they’re weird, but kinda fun to play with!” BonBon nearly heaved, and only stopped herself by putting her hoof over her mouth. “I can’t... believe Thunderlane would let you play with something like this!” Saying nothing for how it would affect him later in life! “It could hurt your development!” Rumble waved off the accusation with a lazy hoof. “Nah, it’s mostly harmless. Thunderlane likes playing with ‘em too, and he said he started collecting these when he was my age. He said he showed them off to all the mares around time, and they played with ‘em too! Sometimes he has parties around them! It’s really cool because sometimes I see colts and fillies my age there with their older brothers and sisters and we go into the other room and play with some by ourselves!” As he was talking, Rumble took off the duffel bag and laid it down at BonBon’s feet with a smile. “But Thunderlane told me no one’s played with this one yet! Something about germs or something? I make sure to wash when I’m done.” “I...” BonBon just stared. It was all she could do. This was supposed to be a quick and quiet transaction, but now she knew far more about the dark side of Ponyville than she ever wished to know. And Rumble...! So young to be playing with such things. Still, a deal was a deal, and she soon fished out a large number of bits. “I guess... these are for your brother.” Collecting the bag, Rumble put threw a string around it and hung it from his neck. “Thanks, Miss BonBon! My bro says he always has more so don’t hesitate to ring the bell if you want more!” “Y-yes, sure,” BonBon mumbled, watching the small colt take to the air. She had enough willpower to watch him go without staring. Turning her attention to the bag, she quickly gathered it up close to her. “It’s okay now, babies, momma’s gonna teach you right!” Looking over the edges of the belfry, BonBon made doubly sure that nopony had happened upon her during the meeting. Once she was satisfied, there was a light zipping sound as she undid the bag. “Come to momma, a little test run won’t hurt anypony~!” It was a curved little thing, cast in a sleek plastic shell. She adored it– it was a little bigger than the others, so it’d be more difficult to fit, but as she played with it, it seemed to bend just a little bit where it counted. Yes, this was of high quality. Beaming, BonBon raised the device into the moonlight. And promptly shoved it in her mouth. The change was immediate. “Hello, my precious student,” called the voice of Princess Celestia, coming out of BonBon’s mouth. “I am the leader of Equestria and I like to eat cakes! Cakes cakes cakes I love cake!” The device nestled neatly behind the first row of teeth on the bottom, bending just right alongside the natural curve of her mouth. “Especially that wonderful baker down in Ponyville, BonBon!” she went on, her hooves waving around like she had something super serious to say. “Yes, from this day forth,” said Princess Celestia’s voice, “All ponies must shop exclusively at BonBon’s Sweets and Treats in Ponyville for all their snacking needs! Your Princess demands it!” Collapsing into a bundle of legs and giggles, BonBon removed the voice modulator from her mouth and placed it back into the duffel bag. The transaction had been a bit rocky, but she had a newfound appreciation for Rumble. “I can’t wait to add this with the others!” she cheered to herself. Perhaps having a legion of voice modulators made her weird. But to her, any hobby was better than whatever it was Lyra was up to! Author's Note Characters suggested by Patchwork Poltergeist Location suggested by Saddlesoap Opera... I think.
Applejack and the Manger of the Sisters“This is really too much,” the lanky unicorn swooned in the desert heat, her magic levitating a dainty fan full of priceless Wonderbolt pegasus down. “Is it always this way with you?” Her back was against the solid wooden door of an old warehouse, far outside Dodge Junction. To her left stood a solid orange Earth Pony, decked out in a billowing brown duster that hugged her muscled flank just a little too unfairly. The entire ensemble was capped off with a tanned cowboy hat resting on a blonde mane tied up in a ponytail. “I thought I had my fill of this adventuring business at the Airship depot.” Applejack smirked, her eyes glancing over the scene before them. Roughly a dozen armed unicorns in black uniforms stood in a semicircle around them, each with their horns glowing a sickly green color that stung the eyes. “Sorry there, miss Fleur De Lis. Can’t say Ah’m entirely as down ta Earth as my heritage would lead you to believe.” The unicorn snorted her disapproval. “Now don’t be like that, Ah got this under control.” “I would hardly call a Marexican firing squad under control, Applejack,” Fleur hissed, her priceless fan wavering as she pressed up against the mare, much to her own displeasure. “How do we even get out of this?” “Past experience? Dumb luck.” Fleur sighed, her head drooping low. “I should have never let Fancy Pants talk me into this. I could have been enjoying caviar in Canterlot right now!” Applejack’s steely eyes unfocused a moment as she turned to her companion. “Caviar? Ain’t that raw fish eggs or something?” Fleur’s face twisted into something between disgust and confustion, “I-i-i-It is not!” “No, it totally is,” one of the unicorns said, before he was quickly shushed by the others. Applejack grinned. “Ya see there? Fish eggs.” Fleur made as if to argue, but all her mouth could do was come up with some unintelligible garble as her tongue reeled in disgust against her will. As she struggled to keep her revolting appendage from absconding from her mouth, and the contents of her lunch from reflexively following suit, Kicks McGee was stealthily checking the door behind them for weak points. Bucks McGilligan was performing a song and dance, expertly flowing the duster around Applejack’s legs to hide his brother’s good work. “Hoo wee, I didn’t know you types could talk!” Applejack ragged, a smirk playing on her face. “Who knows, y’all might have some use after all!” “Silence, prisoner!” The only unicorn with the good sense to wear a helmet shouted, obviously playing the leader of his squad. “You are to remain still until the Qu-” “Yeah, sorry, but I got other things to do. Fleur, please duck if’n you please.” Applejack hadn’t needed to give the order, it seemed, as the lanky unicorn soon doubled over as she wretched out her lunch in front of her. As the assembled squadron of unicorns reeled in disgust at the display, Applejack got her boys to work. In a flash of strength and cunning, the farmer’s hindlegs rendered the door behind her off it’s hinges. Instead of flying back, however, the door instead kicked out from underneath, the top of the door lurching forward toward Applejack, Fleur, and the group of unicorns. In a mess of screams and scrambles, the unicorns began to shoot wild magical energy every which way but helpful. However, Applejack sprung into action, grabbing the tail of her accomplice with practised gusto and dove under and to the side of the collapsing doorframe. Fleur could only yelp and gargle as she was suddenly and unceremoniously ripped from the spot she had just come to terms with dying at. Applejack took only a moment to look back as the heavy door slammed into the ground with a thud, effectively taking out a number of the unicorns with it. However, as the dust settled, the unicorns in black gear that had been dispatched soon turned a glossy black, revealing changeling exoskeletons to be sticking out from under the wood. “Just as I suspected!” Applejack grunted with a satisfied smirk. As the undamaged changelings started to make sense of their situation, Applejack turned with a smirk on her face. At least, right up until she was faced with the intense glare from a very posh and very real and very angry unicorn. Fleur’s breath smelled not unlike some forgotten sand pit as a piece of broccoli refused to be removed from her teeth. “What was that!?” With an infallible smile, Applejack kicked her legs into gear. “Quick thinkin’! Now it’s time ta be quick movin’, if ya like! I doubt them changelings are gonna be mighty pleased with you standin’ over them like that!” With no immediate words in her mouth, Fleur only hissed at Applejack as the mare dove into the full warehouse. She was about give the mare what for, until a very real bolt of green energy blasted past her snout, the excess magic off the changeling’s burst causing a small amount of hair to grow across her nose. Now wearing a very convincing lip warmer, Fleur whinnied and took off running, faster that Applejack would ever give a pony credit for. “Applejack! You horrid, ungrateful, wretch of a pony! If I get my hooves on you—” “Gotta catch me first, sugarcube!” Applejack yeehaw’d her way through the old wooden boxes, her eyes scanning for further danger from the changelings. It made sense that her old foe would be after her, even now. It was just something that screamed of adventure, to have some easily evil foe with faceless armies come after you. Sure was absolutely certain that Rainbow Dash would have killed to be in her position. “Quick, over here!” “Oh sure, like anywhere is safe in this dusty old building!” Fleur cried out behind Applejack, her graceful frame doggedly attempting to keep pursuit behind the farmer. “They’re so many more of them than us, and my magic isn’t used to shoot bolts! It’s to... It’s to–” Fleur cut herself off, skidding to a halt and looking about wildly. “Oh no! I’ve lost it!” she screamed, her eyes looking worriedly back from where she had come. “I have to get it back!” However, as she was about to turn about, a revoltingly familiar sensation came from her flank as she felt her tail get a hefty yank from behind. “You!” Fleur cried, her eyes glaring hard at Applejack. “How many times must I tell you never to grab me there!” “Well, keep a move on, then! It’s much more polite than grabbing the mess that comes out the back of your head. ‘Could cause injury,” Applejack stated simply, adding a small smile to the remark for free. “Not that there’s much to harm up there.” “Excuse me!?” “Changelings, sugarcube.” Fleur gritted her teeth as the pony in the duster took off running, and followed suit quickly. “How are we even going to find this Manger of the Sisters, anyway? This place is gigantic!” Applejack laughed, her tail being the only thing Fluer could see as she rounded bend after bend. “Guess it’ll come down to dumb luck. Y’all alright back there, girl? Yer lip warmer’s looking a bit depressed.” “Oh yes, quite fine. Nothing gets a girl revved up for some archeology like looking down the barrel of a horn and running clueless inside a warehouse where you’re being gunned down by mustache growing freaks.” “Whatever floats your boat, missy!” Fleur’s face twisted, a single cheek blowing up with air as she attempted to chew her tongue. “Sarcasm, you uncultured swine!” “Ah’ll have you know Ah got plenty o’ pigs at home more cultured than any of you Canterlot Elite back home on the farm,” No matter the insult, no matter the whine, that insufferable earth pony had a quip to go with it, and it was wearing thin on the model’s patience. Applejack’s attention went skyward as she noticed some of the changelings had dropped all pretense of a unicorn special operations team, or USOT, and had gone airborne on their chitinous wings. Fleur was about to open her mouth to protest something like her hooves starting to hurt when the lights went out. “Aaaah!” “Whoa there!” A crash. A buck. “That doesn’t go there!” “What doesn’t what now?” A flip and a latch. “Ugh, really, can’t a girl get kidnapped without sexual innuendo?” “Wait, what?” The lights flickered back on as Applejack found her charge in the middle of a group of changelings attempting to tie Fleur up. However, what the they hadn’t seem to expected was the six or so unconscious changelings surrounding Applejack. “Y’all wanna try running that by me again?” Unfortunately, the lights flicked off again. And by the time they were on again, Applejack was at the center of about ten more unconscious changelings, and standing across from a mirror image of herself. “Yer serious?” A quick buck quickly dispatched the remaining changeling. “Fleur?” she asked aloud, looking around her. Luckily, the lanky model was no worse for wear, just a few ropes tied around her legs and muzzle. Approaching her, Applejack smirked. “Well then, as much as I like the peace and quiet for a change...” Quickly setting to work, Applejack released the bounded unicorn with experienced hooves, dejectedly removing the muzzle with a show of great disheartenment. “Oh ha ha, very funny, Applejack,” Fluer chuckled hoarsely. “You should be a comedian.” Magic flaring, the unicorn brought her fan up to her face, fanning it mercilessly. “And now what do we do? Wait for more changelings?” Tipping her hat, Applejack looked around the warehouse for any immediate threats. “Naw, shouldn’t be much of a problem now. Ah think Ah handled them fairly well.” “Really?” Fleur asked, her eyes sharpening. “This whole warehouse, and you think you got them all.” Applejack turned her back to the unicorn, her eyes peeled across the floor. “Ah reckon not all of ‘em, but I handled quite a few of them. It’d be foolhardy to try ‘n charge me now.” Fleur’s eyes flashed a malicious green as she approached Applejack silently from behind. “Yes, I guess you’re right, Applejack.” “Ah know Ah’m right,” Applejack smirked. Bucks McGilligan had a bet with Kicks McGee on who could knock out Chrysalis first. A bet he happily won as Applejack’s hind legs connected against the lanky unicorn’s face with a satisfying crack. With a spin, Applejack looked down at the prone form of the changeling Queen with a smirk. “Ah’ve been waiting a long time to do that.” Galloping over to a displaced crate, she pushed the lid aside and looked in. Muzzled and tied up, the real Fleur grunted as Applejack quickly took the muzzle off. “Applejack, you horrid... why’d you let them put me in a box!” “‘Cause it made me smile,” Applejack smirked. “Plus I got their leader good. Ah think it’s safe now.” “So now we have to find the Manger of the Sisters in a giant warehouse.” “Ah reckon not.” Fleur’s face fell. “You’re kidding. All this work and danger and you’re not going to look?” Applejack chuckled. “Nah, don’t need to. Look what you’re lying in, Fleur.” Looking down, the mare quickly realized she had been placed, rather gently, on top of a rather old looking manger meant for two. “Oh you have got to be kidding me.” Applejack grinned, tipping her hat. “Dumb luck.” Author's Note The characters of Applejack and Fleur-De-Lis were suggested by Saddlesoap Opera. The location a busy warehouse was suggested by Aurora Dawn. Applejack in a duster and cowboy hat, a flighty broad for a companion, and stuck in a warehouse? Let's get some Appleoosa Jack up in here!
Uncle Clockwork Orange and Inkimeena Elizabeth Pie“I really must rule in favor of the defendant. The Pie Rock Farm remains in the hands of the Pie family, and in light of the surprising evidence brought forth by the youngest Pie member, I am also order that all court charges will be paid in full. Court adjourned.” Shouts of joy and more than a few celebratory party cannons fired off as the Pie family heaved a collective sigh of relief. Six months, six whole months of bickering over land ownership when the rich Orange family approached the farm with a deed claiming ownership of the farm. Scare after scare, the Pie’s fought to protect their home, but it wasn’t until Inkie Pie, the littlest Pie, came to court with a substantial piece of evidence– the Oranges had thrown some substantial influence around and had managed to smudge some records, much to the surprise of everypony in attendance. Granny Smith had been quick to blacklist the Oranges from the family, citing their kind was much too different from the wholesome Apples, and would no longer tolerate their acidic influence. However, the matron of the Orange family denounced her husband, claiming ignorance, and took back her old Apple name. Clockwork Orange was alone now, as the courtroom emptied of everypony. The Pies and the Apples had left together to discuss the win, and perhaps even talk business, if the spark in the eyes of Applejack and Blinkie were any indication. As the chatter of ponies died down all around the courthouse, Clockwork could only stare numbly forward. It wasn’t right. No, it simply wasn’t. He was a self-made stallion. He earned the love of that wonderful Apple mare and he made a fortune on the stocks. He was a captain of industry, revolutionizing orange-powered timekeepers. And here he was. Made a mockery of. A fool. Because those stone-spitting Pies’ dumb luck. It wasn't his fault. He had ordered the original documents ripped apart. Taken care of. Disposed. Clockwork's eye twitched. It was all supposed to be gone. This would wreck his social image. His stocks would fall. His mind reeled as he realized that every underhanded trick he used to get to the top would be unearthed now. They would find his dirty laundry. His skeletons in the closet. And they would laugh. Laugh like that stupid pink pony did when her little sister presented the original documents. The testimony of that little rat that hadn't shredded the documents. He couldn't stand her laughter. His eyes forgot how to blink. His face started to stretch back. It was funny, in its own way. Tragically funny. It was all a bit tragic. They farmed rocks. Rocks for Celestia's sake– and they turned a profit! He started to smile. It didn't make sense. Perhaps it never did. Maybe if never would, either. No, to win in this world meant that you had to create your own sense of real. He had tried to do in as best he could within reason, but maybe that was his problem. Reason had no place here, with the rock farms and the little fillies who could take down an entire family with a piece of paper. He chuckled, the statue of a pony with a blindfold over her eyes taking up his entire vision. His eyes dried, forcing tears to fall uselessly down his face. That was true sense. Everything was blind. Who was to say that somepony couldn't just walk up to her and upset the balance. His chuckles turned hoarse. He started to laugh. “I don't feel right about this, Mr. Orange.” Clockwork spun on his hooves, chuckling under his breath. “Two hundred bits says that doesn't matter, and come tomorrow morning, my ancestry is shown to own the rights to that stupid patch of land.” Blue Book looked down at the papers his employer had put down in front of him. The fudged documents could hardly be even called that– they looked so official, and properly aged. Wherever Clockwork had gotten this, they were professionals, and as Blue Book knew, that meant they were not to be trifled with. Not by a single pony with a desk job. “T-two hundred bits. But, sir, doesn't a family live on that land?” “That's really no concern of mine. Or of yours.” “But—“ Clockwork gave him a smile. Blue Book said no more. You never, ever argued with a smiling Orange. “Y-yes sir. I mean no sir! No concerns. Whatsoever.” “Good. See to it nopony sees you, or I'll have to find someone better suited for something like this. And maybe less disposable.” Orange closed the door behind him as he left, but he could still hear the pony on the other side gulp loudly. Clockwork smiled even wider. “I swear! I swear I didn't do anything!” Blue Book screamed, his world had turned upside down in moments, his hooves still clutching the documents to his chest. “I'm just moving these to storage!” “Storage?” A deep voice grumbled. Without hesitation, a dark hoof raked the papers from Blue Book's grasp. The deskpony whimpered as his mind raced for excuses. If this pony knew anything about what they were holding, then he was done for. Caught in the act. Red hoofed. Which really clashed with his blue color scheme. “These are land rights. Made out to the Pie Family. That's the case currently being argued in Ponyville.” Silence. Blue Book was certainly happy he had relieved himself prior to being accosted, less he had wet his bonds by now. “I-I-I-I—“ “The Oranges claim to own that land through ancestral claims. But this says different. Why would somepony like you have access to something like this.” “I don't know! I don't!” “I don't believe you. Do you know what happens to ponies who lie to me?” Blue Book wanted to cry. So he did. “OooohhhhooooooCelestia whhhy, I swear I didn't mean for this to happen!” “For what, speak slowly. You might walk out of this unharmed...” He sniffled loudly, then looked at the ground for inspiration. Or more for the fact the blood that was rushing to his head had become too heavy to try and hold up anymore. “Well, it all started when Clockwork Orange came into my work near closing hours...” Inkie Pie stared up at the large blue stallion before her. Despite his height, he was really quite gangly, a rare sight for an Earth Pony. “Sir?” “Look, I don't have a lot to say, but, um.” Blue Book coughed. This investigative little filly stared up at him with big, amethyst eyes and bored into him. There was no way he could hold back on this now. Besides, if he didn't then... then that masked vigilante might come back. “I have these papers...” “And then Inkie came in with these papers and saved the day! It was stupendously awesome!” Pinkie shouted, her smile breaking the normal limits of what a pony's face could stretch. Inkie blushed, trying to hide her face behind her hair. “I, I didn't do much, Pinkie. I just got lucky, is all.” Applejack patted the youngest Pie on the back heartily, giving her a celebratory whoop for effect. “Aw, lookit her, she's so modest. Y'all really did save your family, so why not take a little credit for it.” “Yeah sis, if it weren't for you and that Blue Book guy, we'd be homeless!” Blinkie said, taking a long drag of cider. Her face twitched a little from the taste, somewhere in-between extreme ecstasy and thoughtful deliberation. “Take some pride in it! And some Cider. Hey AJ, can I get another glass?” “Sure thing, sugarcube.” Inkie smiled as the gathered ponies laughed and celebrated, allowing herself a small smile as the ponies continued to play. Clockwork Orange stood over the toppled statue, the stone knife the mare had held clamped firmly in his jaws. He was still laughing. The dust and dirt from the crumbled statue stung his eyes, but he refused to blink. He looked toward the door. Covered in white dust from the broken statue, he cantered towards the setting sun, burning his retinas as he passed through the door. As night fell, Inkie looked over to where her sisters were sleeping. Blinkie had her muzzle stuck in her pillow, muffling any snores she might have been making, but Pinkie had her mouth open wide, her snores shaking the cookie jars on the nearby shelf. But Inkie wasn't in bed. Behind her mask, the protector of the night gave her sisters one last parting look, before bounding off into the inky blackness.
A Voice in the BelfryPonyville at night was a much different beast than the Ponyville during the day. Where ponies would laugh and frolic under the sun, the night was quiet, betraying the energy that it relished in when the foals would play. That wasn’t to say that Ponyville was dead. No, the dark made it easier to hide its secrets. Atop a building on the edge of town sat a belfry with no easy access. Many ponies chalked it up to have been built by Pegasi, but those in the know around Ponyville knew not only how to access it, but the reason for its existence. They knew how to use the bell. It was on a late summer’s eve that one such pony appeared on the roof of the abandoned building. She wore no markings, sans her candy wrapped cutie-mark, and carried nothing with her. Reaching the belfry, she looked towards the ground below to see if any pony had happened upon her sneaking this night. It had taken everything she had to sneak out with alerting her flatmate tonight. Slipping into the belfry, BonBon snaked across the floor until she stood next to the bell itself. She watched the night pass with as an unwavering sentry. She gave the bell a quick tap with her hoof, producing a low knell. She wondered if that was loud enough, and with enough waiting, she tapped the bell again, this time a bit more forcefully. When nothing happened again, BonBon got on her feet and bucked the clumsy thing, producing a loud broooooonnnnngggg to echo out into the night. BonBon herself had difficulty stopping herself from shaking from the reverberations, her body tense from the loud noise. She wondered if her contact had heard that. Or rather, if anypony hadn’t heard. However, she hadn’t waited long. Hearing the heavy beat of wings, her muscles relaxed. She turned to face the north. “It’s about time, Thun—” she stopped. A pale colt stood on the edge of the belfry, his grey-blue streaked hair nearly black in the moonlight. Strapped across his neck was an impossibly large duffel bag. “Free Candy.” BonBon froze, “Wha-what?” The pegasus rose an eyebrow. “Free Candy, right? Brother said there would be Free Candy here.” There was a long silence. The small pegasus colt’s eyebrows started to raise higher. “Oh! My alias! Yes! I’m Free Candy,” BonBon breathed, rolling her eyes in relief. “Um, what should I be calling you?” The small colt perked up. “Oh, Big Bro says I’m too young to have a codename yet. Just Rumble’s fine.” BonBon’s face fell. How open was Thunderlane with his brother about their business that he would send him out on runs with his real name. Maybe– Maybe Thunderlane trusted her enough to use real names? However, as she considered this, she quickly realized that she already knew everypony’s real names, making the codenames a moot point. “Ponyfeathers.” “Bro says I can’t say that word yet,” Rumble chimed in, breaking BonBon’s concentration. Her eyes trailed to the bag around the young colt’s neck, her eyes bulging. “Oh! Is... is that it?” she asked. Rumble nodded. “O-Oh! Did your brother... he told you what was in the bag?” Rumble shook his head. BonBon looked relieved for a moment, but furrowed her brow. “Well if you didn’t look, how do you know if you have it?” Rumble shrugged. “Bro said it was in here, and I trust him with that.” Her eyes never left the duffel bag. If Rumble knew what lay inside, it would kill her. The scandal! If some foal– “But I looked anyway. It’s weird looking.” BonBon lost all color in her face. “It-It is not!” “Yeah it is. Actually, it looks a lot like my—” “Where is your brother!?” BonBon nearly screamed, not wishing to have this conversation with a colt. “What would he think if you were looking at things like this!?” Rumble shrugged nonchalantly. “He has a room full of these things. I think he collects them.” BonBon’s mouth unhinged and just hung loosely. A room? That was her dream if she could have something like that... and it would explain why he always had them at the ready. “S-s-So you see these things all the time?” She still did not want to have this conversation with Rumble. He perked up and nodded with gusto, his wings spreading out. “Oh yeah! I think they’re weird, but kinda fun to play with!” BonBon nearly heaved, and only stopped herself by putting her hoof over her mouth. “I can’t... believe Thunderlane would let you play with something like this!” Saying nothing for how it would affect him later in life! “It could hurt your development!” Rumble waved off the accusation with a lazy hoof. “Nah, it’s mostly harmless. Thunderlane likes playing with ‘em too, and he said he started collecting these when he was my age. He said he showed them off to all the mares around time, and they played with ‘em too! Sometimes he has parties around them! It’s really cool because sometimes I see colts and fillies my age there with their older brothers and sisters and we go into the other room and play with some by ourselves!” As he was talking, Rumble took off the duffel bag and laid it down at BonBon’s feet with a smile. “But Thunderlane told me no one’s played with this one yet! Something about germs or something? I make sure to wash when I’m done.” “I...” BonBon just stared. It was all she could do. This was supposed to be a quick and quiet transaction, but now she knew far more about the dark side of Ponyville than she ever wished to know. And Rumble...! So young to be playing with such things. Still, a deal was a deal, and she soon fished out a large number of bits. “I guess... these are for your brother.” Collecting the bag, Rumble put threw a string around it and hung it from his neck. “Thanks, Miss BonBon! My bro says he always has more so don’t hesitate to ring the bell if you want more!” “Y-yes, sure,” BonBon mumbled, watching the small colt take to the air. She had enough willpower to watch him go without staring. Turning her attention to the bag, she quickly gathered it up close to her. “It’s okay now, babies, momma’s gonna teach you right!” Looking over the edges of the belfry, BonBon made doubly sure that nopony had happened upon her during the meeting. Once she was satisfied, there was a light zipping sound as she undid the bag. “Come to momma, a little test run won’t hurt anypony~!” It was a curved little thing, cast in a sleek plastic shell. She adored it– it was a little bigger than the others, so it’d be more difficult to fit, but as she played with it, it seemed to bend just a little bit where it counted. Yes, this was of high quality. Beaming, BonBon raised the device into the moonlight. And promptly shoved it in her mouth. The change was immediate. “Hello, my precious student,” called the voice of Princess Celestia, coming out of BonBon’s mouth. “I am the leader of Equestria and I like to eat cakes! Cakes cakes cakes I love cake!” The device nestled neatly behind the first row of teeth on the bottom, bending just right alongside the natural curve of her mouth. “Especially that wonderful baker down in Ponyville, BonBon!” she went on, her hooves waving around like she had something super serious to say. “Yes, from this day forth,” said Princess Celestia’s voice, “All ponies must shop exclusively at BonBon’s Sweets and Treats in Ponyville for all their snacking needs! Your Princess demands it!” Collapsing into a bundle of legs and giggles, BonBon removed the voice modulator from her mouth and placed it back into the duffel bag. The transaction had been a bit rocky, but she had a newfound appreciation for Rumble. “I can’t wait to add this with the others!” she cheered to herself. Perhaps having a legion of voice modulators made her weird. But to her, any hobby was better than whatever it was Lyra was up to! Author's Note Characters suggested by Patchwork Poltergeist Location suggested by Saddlesoap Opera... I think.
