Apples and Oranges

by Cloudbrush

Rating: teen
Tags: Dark, Alternate Universe, Granny Smith, Other, Big Macintosh, Babs Seed, Sad, Applejack, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Length: 1107

Applejack goes on her monthly trip to Manehattan to visit her aunt and uncle.

Applejack goes on her monthly trip to Manehattan to visit her aunt and uncle. However, after witnessing a mob hit, Applejack is in for quite the adventure.

Published 2013-02-15 09:50:01 UTC
Last updated 2013-02-15 09:50:01 UTC

A Monthly Commute

Applejack sighed. It was autumn, sometime around November. The sun was shining brightly through the orange and yellow leaves. Applejack let out a grin as she inhaled the crisp, cool autumn air. She was walking to Manehattan, on her monthly commute to see Aunt and Uncle Orange. As tiresome as the walks were, she enjoyed the time spent with her relatives, and believed that the walk was worth every step. She slowly walked along the dirt road, watching the sleek black chariots go by. The Apples weren't rich enough to afford one, so Applejack walked. After a few silent minutes, she could see the bustling city of Manehattan rise up over the hilltop. She smiled. It was an incredible sight, seeing the massive metropolis seemingly rise up behind the rolling hills. She was almost there. After about ten minutes, she entered the city. The transition from the green countryside to urban Manehattan was drastic yet seamless.

Every time she made the journey, she was always amazed at how she had never noticed the transition between city and county. There were a lot more of the black chariots now. Zipping to and fro like busy bees. They were all the same. Pulled by one horse, black, with a sleek look to it. The jobs in major cities increased tenfold upon the invention of this newer, faster model of chariots. The only thing Applejack could remember about the chariots, was that their creator, Mr.Hoover, had said, "You can have it any color you like, as long as it's black". She chuckled upon remembering the quote. It was getting dark, around 5 o'clock. Slowly, the individual lights in the towering office buildings lit up like fireflies, until the city was like a giant lantern. After about an hour of walking, she then saw the various mares and stallions walk back home, from their jobs. Sewage workers and businessmen alike, all slowly trudged home. It was as if the city had turned off. The streets were mostly empty, and the apartment buildings were lighting up one by one. One particular colt caught her eye. He was young, 17 about. His cutie mark was a newspaper, immediately bringing Applejack to the conclusion that he was a reporter or journalist of some sort. He was an earth pony with beige skin, a chocolate mane, and brown eyes. He was carrying a briefcase, probably stuffed with newspapers and documents. He was so ordinary, yet he stood out so much. She was wondering why he had captivated her attention.

It was over in a second. All black chariot pulled up, the horse pulling it running at breakneck speed. The window was already down, and a black metal rod was pointing out of it. The journalist didn't even notice. Bang! Bang! Bang! Three red crimson splotches of color appeared on his otherwise brown body. As soon as he hit the ground, the car was already pulling away.

Applejack was stunned. As much as the murder stunned her, it was the crowd's reaction more so. They were all whispering, murmuring. "Did you see that?". "A mob hit I bet". "Poor sucker probably couldn't keep his mouth shut". Applejack stood there, paralyzed. The guard appeared at the scene of the crime after a minute or two. "Mob hit", the first one called out. He was your average guard, white skin, a blue mane, all topped off with the iconic Canterlot Royal Guard uniform. "I just don't get how they do it", the second one replied. He was virtually a carbon copy of the first. Applejack watched as they interviewed a few of the witnesses, wrote something down on a notepad, and left. Applejack, who was very disturbed after seeing the murder and the guard's lack of care for the victim, left hurriedly. Before she left however, she took a look at the street name for future reference, 32nd Avenue. With that, she left.

She wanted to be with her aunt and uncle as soon as possible, and wanted to tell them what she saw, and she wanted to feel safe. She jogged the rest of the way to the Oranges' apartment, not wanting to be shot in the cold dark streets of Manehattan. She entered the apartment building. "Howdy Silver Wing", Applejack said nonchalantly. Silver Wing was the doorman, and he always anticipated Applejack's monthly visits. He gave her a nod of acknowledgement, and sent her on her way. As nervous as Applejack was, she tried not to show it, because she didn't want to be questioned on what she saw take place just a few minutes prior. She walked up a few flights of stairs, and was now on the third floor. She took a few steps down the hall, and found herself facing Aunt and Uncle Orange's room. Apartment 312. There were three oranges on the door. A decoration put up there when the Oranges first moved to Manehattan. About 17 years ago or something like that. Applejack could never remember. She walked up to the door. Knock knock knock.

"Who's there?", asked Aunt Orange, with her ever so slightly pompous voice. She had a barely noticeable Manehattan accent to it. "It's me Auntie", replied Applejack. "Oh Applejack, goodness gracious, do come in!". As she stepped through the door, Applejack took a big whiff, and inhaled the sweet smell of oranges. She smiled to herself, knowing that all was not wicked in the world. Still, she had to tell her aunt and uncle what she saw. She stepped into the room and closed the door behind her. She looked at her aunt and uncle idly chatting in the dining room, as she put her bags away. She was amazed at how blissfully unaware they were that someone was murdered in cold blood in their own town. She walked up to the fancy mahogany table, and sat down, They had already set up a seat for her. Complete with a fancy white lace place-mat, a cup of orange juice, and a slice of orange cake. The sweet, orangery smell of the cake was absolutely intoxicating. Sweet smells aside, she quickly remembered she had to tell them what she saw. "Auntie, Uncle", she sighed, "Ah saw something happen on 32nd Avenue...

Author's Note

This is set in 1920's era Manehattan. The black chariots represent early automobiles. I just wanted to clarify that. This is my first story, so constructive criticism will be appreciated. Enjoy! On a side note, if there are any editors willing to help me with this, please let me know, I could really use the help. Thanks!