Ponyville:
The Next Generations
Chapter Two
"Riddle me this: what is more powerful than the Princesses...more evil and twisted than Discord...smarter than me…the poor have it...the rich need it...and if you eat it you will die?"
"I don't know, Brainy. What?"
"You have to figure it out for yourself. That's the whole point."
Twilight was standing on the same spot, in the same dirty greyish green corridor she always stood on the fourth floor of Barking Asylum, a relatively modern psychiatric hospital in north-west Ponyville. It was set up ten years ago by the cured Barking Mad, heir to the Barking fortune, to create a facility in the town specifically for the mentally ill outside Ponyville General. Its patients ranged from those having breakdowns to some of the most tragic cases to offer, and became a begrudging town landmark because of this. Right now, Twilight was meeting up with one of the institution's not so dangerous, but certainly frustrating patients.
The bleach white on the walls of Brainy's cell were lost in a jungle of pinned up and Blu-Tacked puzzle books, crosswords, word searches, newspaper clippings, photographs, graphs and a lot of his own writings, and the floor was completely swamped with whatever he could not pinup, including a few thick books and all kinds of handheld mechanical puzzles from a couple of jigsaws to a handful of key puzzles to at least two dozen Rubik's cubes of varying forms and styles. Anypony else might take a look at this and think this was more of a private study than a mental institution cell, but for Twilight Sparkle, it made sense, at least in context.
Sitting on his rock hard bed with his hind legs dangling off the edge and his sticklike forelegs rested in his lap, Brainy was in the middle of finishing another crossword puzzle with a long white quill (which her repeatedly dipped in an ink pot near the bed), solving his fourth Rubik of the day and scribbling his own thoughts on an old piece of parchment with a shorter black quill. It was for multitasking where being a unicorn and having an eyesore protruding out of your head really came in useful. All the while he was working, his dull, almost lifeless sunken in eyes remained fix on Twilight through the glass and bar door that made the fourth wall of his cell and was the physical barrier between them.
Brainy himself was a gangly colt of an odd colour – a darkish blend of grey and blue and his mess of a bright blue mane with the few remaining moderate sapphire streaks could not help but remind Twilight of that time traveling incident from her youth. Over this poorly built body, he wore a loose-fitting grey jumpsuit with a number imprinted on the top left (his point of view) – 24601.
"The doctors say you've been making excellent progress the last few weeks," Twilight smiled, trying to move off the subject and establish a more positive mood to the conversation.
"What progress?"
She took a quick glance around the clutter that filled his cell. "Well…you're adjusting well to the new programme."
A good point, but nevertheless, he shrugged the remark off and motioned his hoof around the room. "Not exactly like I was given a choice, now was I?"
"And you're overall behaviour's really improved…save for today," she frowned and stared somewhat uncomfortably at the ground. "They said you made one of the nurses cry."
"I just told her that her grating Bucklyn accent sounded almost like she was an eight-year-old being strangled, and if she ever wanted to get in bed with one of the married doctor she'd have to stop slavering herself in cheap makeup and selling herself like a Trutskovite prostitute. I was being blunt. That's how I am." Brainy closed his eyes in thought as the levitating Rubik's to his right finished twisting and turning. It was complete. He opened them again and declared flatly, "28.455 seconds. Not one of my best times. I must be losing my edge."
"Okay, seriously, how could you possibly know how long that took? You were hardly even paying attention to it. I know you're clever, Brainy, but nopony's that accurate."
"I am," he replied, saying it as if it were an everyday fact even a five-year-old foal would know and tapped the side of his head. "I just counted the time in my head. Anypony can do that, even you…mother." Something made it hard for him to say that last word, but Twilight, being the closest one to him throughout his entire young life, knew his character enough to understand why. The unimpressed look in his eyes and curling of his lips told it all to her. She was actually a lot smarter than her son wanted to give her credit for.
She bit her lip, trying to think of what to say next. "I really want you to come home, Brainy." Twilight knew the request was futile, but she wanted to get it off her chest. "I-I've still got your room just the way you like it. All the books, equipment and everything! I…we all miss you."
The young Unicorn appeared to be thinking it over, but his answer was as expected. "Not yet, thank you," he smiled and dropped the Rubik's cube to the pile on the cell floor. "And as much as I appreciate the sap and sentiment, I sincerely doubt those buffoons you call friends are that concerned for me." He held up his finished crossword to her before using his horn magic to levitate it over to a rare bare space on the cell wall and a pin from a small plastic pot to keep it in place. "No, I'll remain here for a while, until I'm in tiptop form again. I'm sure you'll respect my decision. It's for my own good. After all, I'm sure any mother would want what's best for her son."
"Of course…" Twilight said quietly. She found herself stuck in the same awkward position of not knowing what to say again. After fifteen seconds of near silence, save for the scratching of Brainy' black quill on the piece of parchment, and she was about to say something else, Brainy beat her to the punch.
"No, mom, there's nothing you can get for me," he assured her with tedium. It was like the colt could predict everything that his mother could and was going to say, as if he had read it on a script and memorized it. He motioned to several of the items in his cell. "I have plenty of ink, I can simply re-muddle again my cubes and I've plenty of puzzles to keep me going. Thank you though."
An idea came to the mare's mind and she asked with a grin, "Wh-what about a pair of those glasses you like, the purple ones? I…I can try and get them for you." The mare sounded almost desperate to do something for son, be it even the most minor thing like a glass of water or a fashionable pair of specs.
Purple tinted glasses. Now those were a luxury Brainy had been without now for these last three months straight. His eyes flickering for a second, the black quill rested down on the parchment and he said, "Okay. If you can, get me those glasses. These contacts are becoming really irritating."
"I'll do it!" She responded enthusiastically, but was interrupted by a chime. She twisted her head up at the clock on the wall. The time and the preceding chime told the visit was over. "Oh…well, I guess that's my cue to leave. I'll do what I can about the glasses. I…" her lips pursed before finishing, sounding somewhat uncertain if it was the appropriate thing to say, "I love you, son."
"Yeah," Brainy unenthusiastically said, his attention returning to the parchment he was still writing on. "Same here, mom." He suddenly perked up a tad, and asked his mother before she made a move to leave, "Why didn't you bring her with you?"
"…Brainy, I can't. Sh-she's too young. Besides, I was too far away from the library. I wouldn't have had the time, anyway."
Brainy was not impressed by this excuse, nor apparently did he buy it. He just returned to his parchment, muttering only audibly, "Of course."
Dejected, Twilight turned around with her head lowered, and walked off in the direction she came in, down the corridor towards the double doors. She kept her eyes forward, trying her best to cast her gaze on the other patients that could see her through the glass and bar doors. The noise coming from one cell particularly made her pick up her pace.
"Cutting, cutting, cutting, cutting, cutting, cutting…"
When she was inches from touching reaching the doors, a voice rang loudly and firmly, stopping her in place.
"Wait!"
Recognising it as her son's voice and the level of urgency in it, the Unicorn mare immediately turned back and rushed down the corridor, back to Brainy's cell, as fast as she could. When she got there, screeching to a stop, her heart was racing and her cheeks were flushed a bit. It would seem she was more out of shape than she realized.
"What…is it…?" she panted.
Brainy had risen from his bedside and was slowly moving towards her on what any average pony would consider biology improbable: his hind legs. He was bent over forwards and appeared to be struggling, but he successfully shuffled himself over to his mother as much as the revealed cuff and chain attached to his leg allowed him to.
"You didn't answer my riddle."
"Brainy, I already told you, I don't know."
Not good enough. "No, you just don't want to figure it out, because your mind is distracted by pointless priorities!" Sharpness had overtaken the tone of his voice and his brows furrowed. He was starting to have another one of his little mood swings. "You're smart enough to get it, mother! You didn't spend all those years studying under the princess to become some simple-minded feeb, did you?"
"All right, just calm down," Twilight put her hoof up in an effort to calm the suddenly agitated Brainy.
It was to no avail. Brainy was no raging, stomping his hooves in a fit and he repeated his riddle from earlier, putting a loud emphasis on certain words. "Ruh-ruh-riddle me THIS: What is more POWERFUL than the Princesses and more EVIL and TWISTED than Discord? The poor HAVE it...the rich NEED it...if you EAT it you will DIE, and – and this is important, listen – it is SMARTER than ME!"
The only way to stop his ravings bringing in the guards to physically restrain him was for Twilight to co-operate, and she did.
"The universe?" she offered, only half thinking about the riddle itself and just throwing something from off the top of her head.
"Wrong!"
"Uh, uhh…"
A group of three guards and a doctor appeared next to Twilight, walking up to her and the doctor holding a syringe and each of the guards having a taser in hoof.
"Is everything all right here, ma'am?" The doctor asked, concerned and glaring at Brainy from the corner of his eye.
"No, no. It's fine. He's just a little worked up, that's all," Twilight assured them with a nervous smile. She then returned her attention to Brainy, telling him, "Look, Brainy, I honestly don't know right now, but how about this? I'll go home and sleep on it and I'll tell you the answer the next time I come and visit, okay?"
Despite how clearly this solution visibly displeased Brainy, he trekked backwards towards his bedside and sat down, holding and rubbing his hoofs together.
"Fine," he muttered with dissatisfaction, staring down at his hooves dangling over the bedside. "Give me an answer and I just might talk to you again."
"Okay. I'll see you later."
The tense situation had been diffused. Twilight nodded to the doctor and the guards before she walked passed them and headed off towards the exit. Looking at each other for a moment, they shrugged and followed after her, leaving Brainy all alone again in his little cell. It was just him, his puzzles, his books and his writings.
He sat still for a few fleeting moments, taking in the fact that he was completely alone once more with no one to talk to, or rather talk down to. Even though it pained him to admit it, even a pony like him did not particularly enjoy being so isolated from others for so long. The colt noticed an unsolved Rubik's cube lying on the floor, begging to be solved, and he accepted the challenge. His horn glowed and the cube rose into the air. Its sides twisted and turned, until each side was left with only one colour.
"20.714 seconds," he smirked confidently and tossed it aside. "That's much better."
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…Crash! The sound of the bowling ball rolling down the lane and scattering the pins, followed by the boisterous cheers of the bowlers was music to Apple Bloom's ears. She did not know what it was exactly, but something was certainly rhythmic about the continuous echoing sound when she leaned back in the circular bench in her lane and closed her eyes. It coincided well with the song 'The stallion in me' by Buck Dylan that was currently being played throughout the bowling alley/arcade/bar – something else she enjoyed listening to over and over.
"Whooo! Hot nelly, I'm tossing rocks tonight!" Sweetie Belle chirped at the sight of her third strike in a row and turned to walk back to the bench. It taken a long time, years even, but the now grown up Unicorn had now trained herself to become quite the bowler. To get three strikes in a row in one night was not some dumb luck. "Mark it, girls."
Sitting down next to Apple Bloom as the latter took the bowling ball from out of her bag, getting ready to go up for her turn was Scootaloo, who was hunched over, nursing a large plastic cup of cider. The two had been talking for a while now during their tri-weekly excursion to the Ponyville bowling alley, discussing the plight that currently upon Apple Bloom's household.
"So, uh…these were valued chickens, huh?"
"Yeah, they really completed the whole farm."
"Yeah, they were valued, uh…"
Sweetie Belle sat down on the chair behind the score chart and picked up a pen and marked her strike, knowing full well that they were not.
"Wait, what really completed the farm, AB?" she asked, peering over her shoulder at them.
Scootaloo raised her eyebrow at the Unicorn, frowning unimpressed. "Were you listening to Apple Bloom's story, Sweetie Belle?"
"What? No, I was bowling-"
"Oh, okay, then you have no frame of reference here, Sweetie Belle," she continued irately, ranting on. "You're just like Dinky; you wonder in in the middle of a conversation and you want to know-"
The only Earth pony of the trio grunted frustratingly, having to tie her shoes together and listening to one of Scootaloo's rants. "What the hay is yer point, Scoot?"
"Yeah, Scoot, what's your point?" Sweetie Belle chipped in for the sake of joining in on the conversation.
"Huh?" she asked, thrown off by the two questions and looked like she was going to lay into Sweetie Belle again. "What?"
"What's the point of-Gah!" Applebloom now threw her head back, having screwed up her laces and let out a loud groan of frustration. "We all know mah nephew's at fault, so what the buck are ya talkin' 'bout?"
"Wha-No! What the buck are you talking-Ugh!" Scootaloo closed her eyes and grinded her teeth before saying, "We're talking about unchecked stupidity and this stupid thing called collective responsibility here!"
"The chickens?" Sweetie Belle scratched her head.
Apple Bloom corrected her, taking out her bowling gloves and slipping them on, "No, she's talkin' 'bout mah nephew."
"Forget it, Sweetie Bell!" The gamboge-furred Pegaus barked at the Unicorn. "I appreciate you're trying, but face it, you're out of your element!" She turned back to her other friend. "No, your dipsh*t nephew is not the issue. I'm talking about you taking a stand for yourself, about drawing a line in the sand-"
"What the buck are ya talkin' 'bout, "he's not the issue", Scootaloo?" Apple Bloom stared at her as if she were talking more rubbish than usual. "He lost all mah family's prized chickens!" She got up from her seat with her bowling ball and cider and trotted over to the lane. "So who..."
"You and your sister are the issue!" Scootaloo explained, watching her go up. "Your sister is making you and Big Macintosh search up and down all of Ponyville with a microscope for a bunch of stupid chickens your stupid nephew was supposed to be taking care of!" Her voice became a little harsher when she got onto the main reason behind her indignation.
Slurping down her cider, she shrugged and got into bowling position. "In case y'all haven't noticed, he's out helpin' my sister find 'em, right now."
Scootaloo smacked her forehead and ran it down her face. "Not-the-bucking-ISSUE! You shouldn't be made to suffer for his screw up as well, especially when we've got the tournament starting in just two days! Now am I wrong?"
"No, but-"
"Am I wrong, Apple Bloom!?"
Dropping her bowling position, Apple Bloom's face contorted into a defeated expression, saying, "No…you're not wrong."
Scootaloo nodded in satisfaction and lifted her cup of cider and spoke now calmly, "Thank you…now your cousin's lost your family a main source of income and Applejack's gonna be on your back for Celestia knows how long. Now that is going to screw up your game, is it not?"
The more she thought about it, the more Apple Bloom considered how right her friend was. She and her friends had been training for weeks for this tournament and now Appletini had done gone bucked things up for them. How was she supposed to focus on training or the contest itself with Applejack ringing her up every five minutes to ask her if she found the chickens or to tell her to search somewhere else in the town? She had needs too!
"Ya'll know what? Buckin' A!" She decided after a moment, any thoughts of tossing her ball and smashing those pins almost a distant memory in her head.
"Wait…doesn't that mean you should be looking for them, right now?" Sweetie queried slowly, being slow on the uptake as always, to which Scootaloo swatted her across the head.
"Eeyup."
All three of their heads spun in shock at that deep, familiar voice to their left. Big Macintosh stood there in the lane next to theirs, that typical bored expression on his face and a large bowling ball under his giant hoof.
"B-Big Mac, wh-what're you doin' here?" Apple Bloom stuttered, taking on the role of eight-year-old sister her older brother. No matter how many years passed, Big Macintosh would always be the big brother, both in age and size, so recognizing his authority was mostly instinctive.
The red stallion simply replied in his also typical deep, monotone voice, "Ah could ask you the same thing." His large hoof tapped against the bowling ball.
"Ohhh," Apple Bloom realized, looking up and down and her and her friends' demeanours relaxing more. "Sorry, it's just that ah thought Applejack sent you to check on me or somethin'."
"Nnope."
"So…you here to bowl as well, huh?"
Big Macintosh lowered his brows and tapped his bowling ball once again but harder.
"Oh yeah."
'Briiiiiiiing!' 'Briiiiiiiing!' 'Briiiiiiiing!'
Closing her eyes and cringing, Apple Bloom located that infuriating sound and the blinking light coming as always from her bag and groaned loudly, pounding her hoof against her head and set her ball down. She trudged over to the bag and whipped out her mobile phone and before answering it, motioned to her brother and friends to keep hushed.
"Hello, Applejack?"
"Apple Bloom, where are ya?"
"Ah'm, uh…Ah'm right by the Everfree forest, searchin' fer those chickens, jus' like ya said." She fibbed, rather badly, tightening her lips and lookin' at the others and indicated them to do something, they just did know what, at first. "Ah'm goin' through the bushes, right now. Why, Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle are with me, right guys?" Apple Bloom held the phone in their direction and Scootaloo, catching on, immediately began making rustling noises and even a few clucking noises. Sweetie Belle just sat there with a co*cked eyebrow and said, "Uhh…" and Big Macintosh just shook his head.
Crash! The loud sound of a strike and subsequent scattering of pins ruined whatever chance they had. Apple Bloom cringed once more and awaited the response over the phone.
"...ya'll bowlin'. Ain't ya?"
"Applejack, ah'm-we're-tunnel-can't talk-gr-he-" she hung up and shoved the phone back in her bag, sighing painfully. Now she was in deep trouble when she got home. Apple Bloom turned on Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle and called them out, "What the hay was that? "Cluck, cluck"? An' Sweetie, what, ya jus' sit there? C'mon!"
Meanwhile, the red stallion had entirely blocked out the trio's arguments and was in bowling position. He set his bowling ball down inches before the line and faced the other way from it. Taking a deep breath, he imagined the ball was an apple tree and summoning his might strength, concentrated it into his lifted hind leg and BAM!
Everypony, and literally everypony watched the ball rocket down the lane, not even touching the very lane itself and obliterated the pins. It did not stop there; the force of the collision was so great even the pins in the surrounding pins either shook or collapsed, Apple Bloom's included. The trio of friends were left speechless and the cider in Scootaloo's hoof fell from her grip and splashed on the floor, making possibly the only sound in the silent alley other than the replacement of 'The stallion in me' with some poppy trash that only the younger generations would enjoy.
Not saying another word and picking up his ball after it rolled back, Big Macintosh turned to leave the awestruck bowling alley, telling Apple Bloom and company and most likely everypony else in the building, "Ah'll be seein' ya'll at the tournament."
Apple Bloom watched him go, her jaw dangling open to the point where it could have easily dropped off. Scootaloo got up from her seat, carrying her bowling ball with her and walked past the stunned Earth pony, saying, referring to the new set of pins being set up, "My turn, AB."
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"Anythin'?"
Outside Sweet Apple Acres, the older Applejack was hanging a pair of binoculars around her neck, which she occasionally peered through to scan the scenery. Thick bags had formed underneath her eyes from a serious lack of sleep and stress. She took off her now older and worn-out cowboy hat and wiped her brow with the back of her hoof, and she grunted when the pain in her back resurfaced and steadily placed her hoof back on the ground next to a medium sized medicine bottle of liniment.
Out of the bushes popped a small colt, who shook the sticks and leaves off his person and trotted up to Applejack, waiting until he was right next to her to answer with a cheery smile, "Nope."
Applejack swatted her forehead and shook her head. "Okay…Appletini, honey, let's try this one last time; where was the last time ya saw 'em? Think hard!" she added the last part sternly, nudging him a bit.
Appletini tugged on the yellow and white diamond patterned handkerchief, as was his mannerism when remembering. The colt shared a lot of his appearance with his mother. His coat was orange like hers, but a much darker, rustic even, shade of orange, and his straw mess of a mane was a sandy colour with a few long bright green strains here and there. Over it he was wearing a grey patching sort of hat you would more likely see on a scarecrow than a pony, though it matched well with the straw-like quality his mane had.
"Hmmm," he seemed to find it difficult to pinpoint where in his polka dotted memory he last caught glimpse of the fowls. "Well, ah can remember that ah took all the chickens outta their hen house so I could clean it up and then-"
"Ah know what you were doin', Appletini."
"Ah know that. It's jus' that ah have ta go through it all ta remember," Appletini rubbed his temples to remember more and continued, "But when ah was takin' 'em out, ah had a great idea; what about a 'chicken derby'? We could sell tickets, set up a big ol' racing track, it'd be so great!" His face dropped. "But when ah next came out, they was all gone!" Appletini became rather bashful and added, "Ah think it may have somethin' ta do with me leavin' the cage door open, though, heh heh heh."
The mare sighed long and hard and lectured her son crossly, "It's not funny, 'tini. We get a lotta money outta those chickens and if we don't get 'em back, how're we gonna fix the upstairs toilet…which you also broke!"
"But ah'm tellin' ya, ma, ah saw a diamond ring get lost down there! Ah figured it'd be worth somethin', so…yeah, maybe the jackhammer wasn't a good idea, but if it was diamond then…yeah." He finished his sentenced lamely, having lost whatever argument he was trying to make.
"The point is that we can't rely on apples alone, Appletini! Not these days." Applejack knew it would be futile to try and explain economics to her son, but she could at least try. "Losin' those chickens means we lose a foothold in the market and somepony else could easily replace us. That's why we need to get 'em back as soon as possible. Do you understand what ah'm tellin' ya?"
Not a difficult question to answer, but Appletini stared at his mother blankly, blinking a couple of times, before asking and pointing his hoof over his shoulder, "Can ah go back to searchin' in the bushes now?"
She sighed again exasperatedly, "Sure."
"Yipeee!" Full of cheer and excitement, the colt spun around and galloped and dove into another of the many bushes in search of the lost chickens.
Applejack sighed a second time but her back pain, which had dulled whilst she was talking to her son, returned with a vengeance. She had to bite her tongue to prevent her from yelling out and cursing in pain. The mare sat down on her flank and picked up the bottle of liniment in one hoof and used the other to rub its contents into her spine. Now and then she poured a few more drops of the liniment into her open hoof and reached behind her back to rub again. Every time she did, a shiver ran up and down her spine, replacing the pain and she gave off a shuddering moan.
"That's better…ohhh yeah…that's much better."
Well, for the Element of Honesty, she was not being entirely honest here, at least to herself. Drinking down cider or better, whisky made her feel much better than any liniment that had to reapplied every few moments or so. But at the moment, alcohol was absolutely off-limits for her. After all, for the second time in her still relatively young life, she was with child.
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Jack N Box's room was a small, cramped living arrangement to say the least. Located at the very top of Sugarcube Corner, above his mother's room, it once served as the Cake family's attic, but upon Jack's arrival into the world, it was cleared up to become his bedroom. The walls were mostly muted colours – green and brown, mostly. On the left, next to the grey wardrobe and radiator was a roundish black cabinet in which the key was still in the lock. Smack-dab in the centre and obviously taking up more of the already confined room than needed was a large table, capable of seating eight ponies and draped in a muted black and white chequered tablecloth. Lastly, shoved into the right corner was a small, ramshackle bed for him to curl up and nestle in like an insect at nights when his energy was spent, for all around the room were evidence of his handiwork. There were little toys and contraptions tucked up in the corners, including his namesake, chattering teeth, googly eyes and so on and so on, but these were little compared to all the hats.
Hats, hats, they were everywhere. They were on the several shelves, on the floors, and even on the large table in the centre of the room, ranging from bowler hats, to beanie hats, to wizards' hats, to hats from faraway lands. His card included 'hat enthusiast' and that was the 100% truth. Jack was not entirely sure how this particular collecting hobby truly originated, nor were a lot of ponies, but it may have had something to do with his first and most favourite hat…
The small door to the room opened, and Jack N Box stumbled slowly inside. Without a word and humming a low, sombre tune, he took off his pinstripe jacket first and hung it up on the rack and slowly and with much more care set his feathered cap up on the shelf, in between a Manehattan fedora and a sombrero.
Jack N Box looked, quite frankly, nothing like his mother. Whilst she was a bubbly, well-fed and all-around pink pony, his was a sickly green with a matted black mane and was much scrawnier in frame. The black bangs fell into his face, covering his left eye from sight, leaving the other, gentle blue one free. He figured that instead he must have taken on more from his father, though he could not be too sure, being that his father was not around for him to compare…
"That could've gone better," he said to himself, referring to the clash earlier that day and readjusted some of the hats on the shelf. A worried frown was growing on his little face. "I didn't mean to get them mad. I thought they would've laughed with me. I-It was funny…wasn't it?" The remorseful colt began ringing his hands and walking up and down the small room. "I-I-I mean, it was supposed to be funny. Pies are funny, they always have been funny, so why are they not funny now? I don't understand..."
A series of fuzzy felt thoughts processed through the young colt's head. What was supposed to happen? He sat up on that tree, check. Wait until the time was right and throw a pie at her, check. We all laugh together and drink tea…uncheck.
'I just don't know what went wrong,' he thought now miserably, dropping his head. 'We were all going to have a tea party together…' Jack N Box suddenly livened up and he ran over to his orange jacket on the rack and rummaged through the pockets, searching frantically for something. He soon found it: a pocket watch, one bigger than his hoof and made of polished silver.
"Ooooo, what time is it…I can't be late!" Jack fumbled with the device, nearly dropping it, but opened the lid cover and saw the time. It was exactly six o'clock, as always, and that meant only one thing for him.
"Tea time!"
Faster than a speeding bullet and with more grace than a Canterlot trained ballerina, Jack N Box glided over to the roundish cabinet, turned the key and flung the doors open. Inside were crammed assortments of beakers, bottles and flasks filled with multi-coloured potions and other chemicals, tins of powders, small stacks of papers and documents, warn pencils and other bits and bobs. Oddly amongst the set was a large silver kettle with several funnels and narrow pipes leading down to its open lid along with a tap. First, he turned the tap on high power and filled the kettle three quarters the way up, but at the following stage his mood swung to a far more restrained self and acted with a lot of reprehension when he steadily moved to turn on the Bunsen burners below the flasks and the kettle. It took about four minutes but he soon got them all on and the kettle and the flasks' contents began simmering.
Next, he summersaulted over to his bed, where at the bottom was placed a large brown trunk with the key in the lock like the cabinet. Jack N Box turned the key and tossed the lid open and began tossing out a whole table set consisting of a white and blue ceramic teapot, tea cups, spoons and plates. Each one he tossed miraculously landed on their designated place in front of the chairs with precision. Strangely, there were even tins labelled 'tea bags' and 'sugar' and plates holding cupcakes with different coloured icing stored in his trunk that he also set on the table. He took out a metronome and placed it at the far end and set it off, creating the sound of a continuous 'tick' in the room, and after that, a very old book that had a brown leather cover and a red bound bookmark, which he set down reverently at what most likely was going to his seat at the far end nearest to the door. He pulled out and donned a trench coat so full of patches and stitches that it seemed to hold every shade of green on the spectrum, from a dark pine to a pale jade, allowing his sickly green coat to be camouflaged within the amalgamation and he slid his pocket watch into the left pocket. Along with this he put around his neck a large yellow and red polka dotted bowtie that not only clashed with the green colour coordination but, judging by its size, one could judge as a novelty type. Lastly, Jack took out something and handled it with greater reverence than he did with the book or anything else.
What Jack N Box held in his hooves was a hat, but not just any hat. It was his favourite hat. A tall, oversized, fantastic top hat of a dark green colour with a black leather hatband, in which was stuck a card reading, in cursive writing, 'In This Style, 10/6'. Oddly enough, a part of the hat, the left, appeared darker, almost a black patch where the fabric was rougher or quite possibly charred.
Placing it upon his head, Jack skipped down to the cabinet, where the kettle had reached a boil and the potions were leaking down and dripping into the kettle. Steam was wafting out the open kettle, one of a strong, overwhelming aroma. He grabbed a tin of powder, which he sprinkled into the kettle, creating a series of loud violent sparks. Then turned off all the burners, picked up the kettle and brought it over to the table, where he sat it and himself down at the far end near the door.
"Now, my friends," Jack N Box beamed, opening the lid of tea pot and the tin reading 'tea bags' and popped one inside, before holding the kettle high over his head and pouring the contents down into the pot. "Would any of you care for a cup of tea?"
"Yes, yes, the tea, the tea!" the March Hare cheered in his thick, burly Scottish accent, holding up his cup. "We all must have a cup of tea!"
"Quite right."
Jack N Box inhaled the steam and shuddered and placed the lid back on and poured the tea into both their cups, keeping the teapot as high in the air as he could. He set the teapot back down and they started drinking their tea, and started a conversation. As they talked, both picked up their teaspoons and dumped large lumps of sugar from several tins all labelled 'sugar' into their tea and stirred. The Dormouse was there too, sitting between them, fast asleep, and the other two were using it as a cushion, resting their elbows on it, and talking over its head.
"What day of the month is it?" Jack asked, turning to an empty seat at the opposite far end of the table. He had taken his pocket watch from out of his pocket, and was looking at it uneasily, shaking it a few times, and holding it to his ear.
Nopony answered, especially not from the empty seat, a large armchair, the kind a stallion would traditionally rest on after a hard day's work.
"Two days wrong…" the colt sighed, although it was hard to tell whether it was because of this or the absence of somepony who was presumably supposed to sitting in that armchair. He added, looking quite angrily at the March Hare, "I told you butter wouldn't suit the works!'
"It was the best butter," the March Hare meekly replied.
Jack N Box was about to go on something about crumbs and a bread-knife and he was mentally considering dipping his watch into his cup of tea, but stopped himself doing all these things and rested the side of his face in his hoof and took another long drought of his tea. There was a long silence that followed, broken only the sipping of tea and the mournful beats of the metronome.
"Suppose we change the subject," the March Hare stated, yawning and stretching his arm. "I'm getting tired of this. I vote the young filly tells us a story."
"The young filly is not here," the colt reminded his companion, having now lost his cheerful attitude, replaced with a growing sadness. "She is never here. Not anymore. Ever."
"Did you not invite her?"
"I…I tried to, but I made a pig's ear out of it," Jack bit hard on his lip and the tea cup and plate both jittered in his hooves. "She…she didn't find the pie funny. She was actually very angry with me! I-I don't think she wants to speak to me at all, for a while."
But the March Hare was not entirely sympathetic. "Well, I did tell you, tossing pies would not be a wise idea, did I not?"
He had to give credit where credit was due. "Yes. Yes, you did," he conceded glumly.
"Perhaps it is best we discontinue our quest for the girl?" The March Hare suggested, his whiskers twitching as he eyed and sniffed feverishly the cakes set out on the table.
Ridiculous. The only word to describe such a suggestion was 'ridiculous', that and 'stupid' and 'idiotic'. Drinking more of his tea, Jack N Box shook his head. "No…no, no, no, no, she will come. One day soon, my Alice will come to tea again. I'll make sure of it."
"If you say so, dear boy," the March Hare replied indifferently and they all drunk their tea again. "Ah, but until that distant day, perhaps you might once again perform your song for us? A little bit of entertainment. We certainly enjoyed it, last time."
The Dormouse suddenly came alive and added, drearily, "Yes…please sing it for us. It will soothe my sore head."
Jack N Box did not need a second invite. He proudly sat up from his chair, took a hold of his trench coat's lapels and giggled, "Heh heh, well, I am well known for having quite the singing voice, eh, lads? Let's see, I think it goes something like this…" Jack cleared his throat elaborately and proceeded to sing in a clear, reedy voice:
"Twinkle, twinkle, little bat!
How I wonder what you're at!"
"Up above the world you fly,
Like a tea-tray in the sky.
Twinkle, twinkle-"'
"Jack, what're you doing?"
He stopped his singing, and spun on his heel to face the door. Pound Cake was standing there in the doorway, his eyebrow co*cked up sceptically and he stared up and down the colt and the room itself. Silence, save for the beating metronome, dominated the little room. Jack mentally berated himself. He forgot to keep the door fully closed and locked!
"O-OH, Pound Cake! I-I-I-I was only, uh…practicing my singing," Jack excused himself incredibly nervously, taking off his hat and holding it to his chest, clenching the rim tightly. "I like to go over nursery rhymes when I practiced."
Pound Cake at least seemed to buy that fish, but took a couple more steps into the room. "Okay then, that's cool, but…I could've sworn I heard you speaking to somepony else. I-Is anypony in here, besides you, I mean?" he took notice of the tea set on the table, the two piping cups in particular. "And it looks like you were having a…tea party, too. Sorry if I interrupted anything."
The younger colt waved his hooves to dispel such a notion. "What? Oh, no, that's crazy talk! I was just, just thinking out loud, and the tea, well…you know I really like my tea." He laughed half-heartedly. "Silly filly!"
It was unclear whether Pound Cake truly believed him or not, nevertheless he shrugged and turned to leave, saying, "Well, all right, sorry to disturb ya. Just...make sure ya keep the door shut next time, 'kay? And, oh yeah…nice hat."
When he closed the door and left him alone, Jack N Box felt the cold sweat running down his face and wiped it off with a tissue stored in his other pocket and set his top hot back on. He let out a sigh of relief and sat back down at the table and unsteadily took another big gulp of his tea, resuming the tea party that had been disturbed by his friend.
The March Hare was not pleased in the slightest. "Well, I do say! Friends, I think I speak for all of us when I say it was not at all civil of that youth to waltz into our tea party without being invited!"
"True, true," murmured the fading in and out Dormouse, "Very rude, indeed."
"Yes, you will have to forgive my friend," Jack put his hooves together and shook his head slowly. "He simply does not understand the first thing about tea party etiquette. Unfortunate, really."
"Quite."
And thus, the tea party continued, though not where it left off as any notion of singing had been forgotten. Tea continued to sipped with the manners fitting the utmost gentlecolt and the group even helped themselves to a cupcake or two, until the hatted colt made himself heard.
"I want a clean cup," declared Jack, after inspecting the tea stained porcelain inside of his now empty cup. "Let's all move one place on." They did just that and Jack N Box chucked down another cup of his special tea. It went on like this until the tea pot was bone dry, and Jack just put the kettle on again.
His tea parties often lasted a long time.
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"Ow! Mom! Be careful, you're pulling on my follicles!" Drizzilla complained, perched upon a red cushioned stool in front of her vanity mirror. She was wearing a thick fluffy white robe that concealed her little body and had only recently finished a two hour long shower and bath. With those nightly rituals finished, she was now getting ready for early bed.
Rainbow Dash moaned and let her shoulders slump, brushing her daughter's mane at a slower pace than she did before. All the purple goo and crumbs had been successfully washed and shampooed out of Drizzilla's mane, so they were just left with the task of tidying the mane to the point where every single fibre was symmetrically strait.
"For the love of-"follicles"! Quit your whining," Rainbow Dash scolded, giving the red and blue mane a tug and running the brush through it. "You know, you oughta count yourself lucky I'm doing this for you, tonight, especially after the way you acted earlier!"
"Mom, I already told you, it wasn't my fault!" she retorted, crossing her forelegs grumpily, the left one of which was now covered in a fashionable leg warmer. "It was all Precious, Jellybean and that idiot Jack's fault! I didn't do anything!"
The mare roughly readjusted her child's head, searching for more of her mane that remained unbrushed and rolling her pink eyes irritably. "Fine, whatever, you were all at fault then! The fact is you kids can't keep starting World War Three every time we meet up together! I mean, I hardly get enough time to spend time with Twilight and the others as it is. The grownups and I have lives too, ya know."
"Pfft. If you wanted lives, why'd you all have kids, huh?"
Rainbow Dash dragged her hoof down her cheek hard enough it pulled the bottom half of her eye socket. 'Damn it, she's got you there, kid!' She mentally chastised herself.
"I thought so. Now hurry up! I need my cutie sleep," the filly gazed lovingly into her reflection, batting her pretty lashes. "As much as I enjoy admiring myself, I don't have a lot of time to lose." She then picked up some pancake makeup and started applying it around her muzzle, covering up a pale white colour that stood out from the rest of her face. She pretty much wore makeup at all times, even going to bed.
"Sure, no problem," Rainbow Dash responded through gritted teeth. As she finished off her brushing, the Pegasus could not help herself dwelling on her daughter's remark: "If you wanted lives, why'd you all have kids, huh?" The truth was, though she dared not say it straight to her daughter in fear of her using it against her in the future, she never really planned on having foals. It just was not at the top of her priorities list, in fact, it was probably somewhere near the bottom next to 'get a full hooficure'. But as fate would have it, she was landed with her own foal to bring up, at least she initially hoped, in her image and she had to adjust to it, especially considering the girl's...special conditions. Hay, a pony could well argue she still had not. Do not take that to automatically mean she rejected or did not love her offspring, but if you took one look at Rainbow Dash, 'motherly' or 'maternal' would certainly not be words that would jump to your mind. There is actually a lot that needs to be accounted for if you are to successfully evaluate Rainbow Dash as a mother, which we, at the moment, do not have the time for.
"There, done," she sighed, setting the brush down and co*cking her eyebrow. "Satisfied?"
Drizzilla dryly examined herself over in the mirror and when she finished, tutted in a tone that pretty much screamed 'what an amateur', "It'll do," she then reached for her sleeping eye mask and hopped off the stool and pranced over to her beautiful white four-poster bed. The whole room was colour coordinated a dazzling baby blue and pearly white, from the tapestries to the sheets on her bed. The white columns were a fine touch as well, a throwback to ancient Pegasi culture.
She climbed up and snuggled herself into the white mattress and baby blue pillows, hoisting the same coloured blankets up to her neck and leaving her covered-up foreleg on top of the blanket. She slipped on the eye mask and sighed long, letting the comfort of her bed take her. Rainbow Dash watched this and felt her heart melt a little. She could not deny it – her baby was more damn cute than other filly in Equestria when she was going to bed...at least in the way she conducted herself. The mare was going to tiptoe out of the room, but the younger of the two would have none of that.
"Eh-hem!" Drizzilla's shrill voice rang from behind her, making her stop. "My humidifiers!"
"Oh you've gotta be…" Rainbow Dash mumbled and did as her daughter said and switched on all the tall lavender humidifiers stationed around the room. She recoiled in disgust at all the different aromas being given off - vanilla, coconut, lavender and jasmine. "Yuck! How do you stand breathing this stuff? I'm out of here!"
"Wait!"
Rainbow Dash felt like she was going to blow up. "Drizzilla, I swear to-what?"
The filly raised her foreleg out from under the blankets and tapped herself on the cheek. Her mother immediately understood and, her anger and frustration subsided, she made her way back to the bed, leaned in and kissed and nuzzled Drizzilla against her cheek, focusing on a soft spot amidst the rough and raggedness of the rest. Drizzilla yearned for more affection, so she pulled her bare arm out from the covers and reached and wrapped it around her mother's neck and hugged her back.
"When's Dad coming home, Mom?" she mumbled into her, speaking in a more pacified tone.
"I already told you: tonight. He might bring you something back from Cantlerot, if you're lucky, although I doubt you'll be awake to see 'em when first gets back."
"Doesn't matter. Besides, I need my cutie sleep," the filly insisted, her angry and impatient tone resurfacing.
Rainbow Dash nuzzled her again. "Sure ya do, honey. I'm going downstairs now, so ya need anything before I go?"
All the little girl managed to murmur (for she was drifting fast to sleep) was something about turning the humidifiers up a bit. Holding her breath, her mother did so, though at this point they were creating a faint haze in the room that distorted her vision slightly. She reached the ajar door and left the room, looking back one last time.
"'night, Drizzilla."
Closing the door, Rainbow Dash sighed and trotted down the hall near silently. Before she descended the staircase, she checked her leg watch; it would be hours before any other filly (as far she was aware of) would be heading off to bed. If there was one benefit to having Drizzilla around, Rainbow Dash would definitely have to pick how the kid had damn good sleeping patterns, though the benefit specifically for the former was all the extra hours she had. Actually, it was not that much of a benefit in practice as she had not much to do all by herself. The main thing she really wanted to do was hang out with her friends, but as she said, time to do that was limited and their kids already loused that up. Soarin' still was not going to home for a while, so any hanky-panky would not be happening for a while, not like she anticipated with much enthusiasm. When ponies, in their endless admiration and devotion to the Wonderbolt, remarked how he was "faster than a speeding bullet", they were right. Still, she took what she could get.
No, she would just do what she normally did on most nights. She took a large tub of chocolate chip ice-cream, parked her flank on the sofa in front of the television, and watched her soaps in between shovelling spoons of the good stuff in her trap.
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Spike had made sure to lock up the library for the approaching nighttime. Princess Luna was in the process of raising the moon, yet few ponies were going to sleep just yet, as was the recent and growing trend. You could easily thank that all to the famous swanky Ponyville nightlife, with the bar, casino and restaurant districts (and more discretely, the red-light district) coming to full life as per usual. Unfortunately, some ponies tended to enjoy themselves a tad too much and wound up wandering throughout the rest of the town and causing a ruckus, leaving the police with their hooves full on a nightly basis. These were yet more gifts, depending on your point of view, from the Great Gallop Forward. All this was why the maturing dragon was uneasy about leaving the front door unlocked for Twilight. What if some drunken lout staggered in, thinking it was home or with more…sinister intentions? He acknowledged that these were exaggerations, but they already had more than bottle smashed against the outside wall or a scuffle broke out on their doorstep.
Where was she? She should have been home hours ago from her 'business', but so far, nothing. Not even a phone call. He fed the foal and sent her to bed, playing the musical mobile for her before leaving the nursery. All the lights had been switched off and Twilight's campaign papers, posters and other paraphernalia left as they were. He really wished she could have left them at her campaign headquarters with all the other stuff, but there was no budging Twilight.
Spike decided to go to bed himself, albeit uneasily due not knowing where his friend was or if something had happened or the possibility of somepony breaking in. It was with little surprise that he immediately leaped out of bed at hearing the sound of hoofsteps downstairs and with precaution or likely in some foolish attempt at being a hero, grabbed a large bat and crept down the stairs. But luckily, what he found downstairs on the sofa with a glass and bottle of wine in hooves made him breathe a sigh of relief.
"Twilight? Sorry, I…I didn't hear you come in."
The Unicorn glanced at him through the corner of her eye, little of a reaction to his presence on her face. She was sombre in appearance, emphasised well by how she was drinking wine in the dark.
"Hi, Spike. Sorry I wasn't here, earlier," Twilight apologised in a low, clearly exhausted voice. That and her dithering heavy eyelids indicated how the alcohol was taking affect. "I went to go have dinner at a restaurant – wasn't really that hungry, though. Then I decided to go have a drink, and I wanted another. I then came back here…eventually."
Spike knew his lifelong friend was a responsible drinker and even when she did drink a lot, she did it slowly, so he knew he had little to worry about here. If she had a meal beforehand as well, that was reassuring too. He slithered over the couch next to her and asked with concern, "I haven't seen you since you went off today to see the others. You couldn't have been eating and drinking all that time…were you?"
"No, actually, I…I went to go see Brainy."
"…Oh Celestia…and…?"
"Still as off it as ever…despite what all the doctor's say. I mean, they're deducting it as a severe case of OCD, possibly even Asperger's."
"But…what do you think?"
Twilight lifted her head and stared up at the ceiling contemplatively, waiting a moment or two before answering, "Y-you know, it's funny…even I'm finding it hard to decide what I think about it all anymore, Spike. He gave me one of his riddles, like he always does."
"What was that?"
She pressed her hoof against her sinuses. "Umm…I'll remember it in the morning. I'm too tired, right now."
"C'mon, let's go to bed."
With his assistance and after setting the glass and wine down (Spike would deal with it in the morning), Twilight ascended the stairs.
"Not sure if you want to hear this, right now, but…he called earlier," he told her quietly, with fear of waking the foal, but loud enough to emphasise the 'he' part. "He wants to know a good time for you and him to meet up and discuss…finalizing the papers. I told him to call back, tomorrow."
Twilight scowled at hearing this. "Good. I don't have time for him, right now." A thought occurred to her and she stopped him. "Spike, I wanna kiss her good night."
Spike was reprehensive at first, but nodded, adding, "Okay, but quiet. It took me forever to get her to sleep, tonight."
"Sure."
Entering the nursery as quietly as she could, Twilight approached her daughter's crib and peered affectionately down at the adorable blot of brilliant rose amongst the sea of thick white cotton blankets. Twilight felt her heart melt entirely like butter and leaned down and planted a long delicate kiss on her cheek. The darling thing mewed and, still deep in dreamland, she tilted her head towards her mommy.
Twilight Sparkle felt that feeling of dread gnawing at her insides. It was that she knew if she won the election that drawing closer and closer, how much time would she have to spend with her? Her schedule was already fairly tight as it was. She could imagine how it felt like for her mother, when she spent the majority of her filly years studying under Princess Celestia. All that time she never got to spend with her mother, getting to know her more and simply being with her. The last thing Twilight wanted was to be too busy to not spend enough time with her only daughter, too. With Brainy, the circ*mstances were different, but she visited him whenever she could and prayed for him to leave that place soon. But with her little girl, she did not have as good an excuse.
She shoved those feelings aside and kept the side of her face gently, lightly pressed against her foal's. She wished in vein this moment would last forever and found herself humming the bars of that lullaby Fluttershy taught them all before the first of the next generation, Brainy, came to be.
"Hush now, quiet now
It's time to lay your sleepy head
Hush now, quiet now
It's time to go to bed."
