>The only thing you remember is deep, deep water extending endlessly above you.
>And then you stumble onto a dirt pathway, into some sort of town.
>The pale moon hangs bright in the night sky, and on the streets below, lamps crackle with a soft white light.
>You walk and stare at the only living things you see.
>Small horses, all sorts of colors, some with wings, some with horns, others so bundled up in clothes that you can't see any part of their body.
>For their part, they seem to be staring at you too, murmuring to each other.
>Looking more carefully, you can see some... ponies?
>Ponies with dull coats just slumped against walls, staring blankly with eyes as dull as their coat.
>Sometimes a passerby will look at them and sigh, shaking their head.
>"Welcome to Ponyville! I'm Pinkie Pie, who are you?"
>You take a startled step back at the pink pony grinning at you, inches away from your face.
>You swallow your surprised yelp
"I'm, uh..."
>You know this.
>You should know this, right?
"I'm not sure…."
>Pinkie Pie gives you a comforting smile.
>"Don't worry about it! That's how it is sometimes, just let me know when you figure out what you want your name to be. Until then, how about I show you around town?"
>Grateful for the distraction, you nod.
"That'd be great."
>She beams at you and starts hopping.
>"Come on, I have so much to show you and so little time to do it!"
>You jog to keep up with her as she leads you on.
>You hear a rising murmur, and not just from the ponies glancing at you.
>Pinkie Pie gestures grandly to the right, indicating the bustling center of activity.
>"Here's the central market! You can get most anything here, for a price. Do you have anything to trade?"
>You blink and pat your pockets.
"Uh, a couple of pens, some pennies..."
>And your phone, but you absolutely will not be trading that.
>She frowns, then beckons you over to a wooden crate by a brick wall.
>And then she… twists without moving and suddenly has a small canvas pouch in her hoof.
>Pinkie unties the drawstring, reaches in, and pulls out a gold coin.
>"This is a bit. Pretty much everypony already has a bunch, but you're new in town, so you might get some pity trades with it."
>You nod, wondering how common gold has to be for that to be the case.
>She drops the coin back in the pouch, then upends it over the crate.
>A handful of coins clatter onto the wood.
>"Try counting them."
>You raise an eyebrow, but do as she says.
"Twelve bits."
>Pinkie Pie scoops up the bits and puts them in the pouch again.
>She holds it out to you.
>"Start taking bits out of the bag one at a time and count out loud."
"One."
>The coin is cool and pleasantly weighty.
"Two."
"Three."
"Four."
>This is getting tedious.
"Five."
"Six."
>And, in time,
"Eleven."
"Twelve. Now what-"
>"Keep going!"
>What.
>You shrug and reach your hand into the pouch, expecting to touch canvas, but no.
"Thirteen. Is this magic?"
>"Maybe! Look inside!"
>You look into the pouch.
>Somehow there are still plenty of gold coins in there.
>You look up at Pinkie Pie.
"Is the pouch magic or is it the bits?"
>She grins.
>"Neither! You can do this with pretty much anything that isn't alive, it's called Pulling."
>You furrow your brow.
"How does it work?"
>Pinkie shrugs.
>"Dunno! But anytime you have enough of something that taking one out doesn't really change the pile that much, you get Pulling. But there's a limit, you shouldn't try to get more than one and a half of what you had. See?"
>She dumps out the pouch once more onto the crate, letting go of the pouch.
>Immediately, the pouch crumples, then folds in on itself over and over and over until it vanishes with a tearing sound that makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up straight.
>You stare at Pinkie Pie, wide eyed.
"What was that? That's..."
>You shiver.
>She nods.
>"It's the Doctor, snipping away an Overpulled area. So I wouldn't recommend Pulling from anywhere you want to keep, like your pockets, your favorite bag, or the outside world!"
>Your blood runs cold.
"What happens when you Overpull from the outside?"
>She looks at you, her expression deadly serious.
>"Then you get snipped along with everything around you, and you don't come back as yourself, if you do at all."
>You swallow thickly.
"I'll remember that."
>She beams at you.
>"Good! I don't want to lose anypony else! Let's keep going!"
>She scoops up the bits she dumped and shakes her head when you try to give the ones in your hand back to her.
>Pinkie Pie leads you through the bustling market, trading three deflated balloons for two pouches, one for you and one for her.
>Still feeling uneasy from the demonstration, you nevertheless dump the bits into the pouch and tie it to a belt loop.
>The next stop is a market stall guarded by two normal mares, each armed with a shovel.
>The one on the right has piercing green eyes that almost seem to glow.
>The yellow filly with the red mane smiles brightly.
>"Well, if it ain't Pinkie Pie! Good to see you again, giving the tour?"
>Pinkie Pie grins back.
>"Yupper puppers! Applebloom, meet Mister To Be Determined, he's new in town!"
>You smile hesitantly.
"Nice to meet you."
>She looks you up and down and grins.
>"Likewise. What can I do you for?"
>You glance at Pinkie Pie, who rolls her eyes and shakes her head.
>"Take it easy on him, no flirting until he's settled."
>The filly huffs.
>"Ah'm forty years old, Ah can do what Ah like."
>You blink.
"Really?"
>She scowls at you.
>"You doubting my word?"
>You raise your hands in surrender.
"You just look... young."
>Applebloom sighs.
>"That's just how it is, since the sun set. At any rate, come by anytime you like, we got free grape juice if you're thirsty, corn, carrots, and apples if you ever go exploring."
>You nod.
"I'll keep that in mind."
>Free grape juice?
>You wonder how that is even profitable.
>Pinkie frowns as she leads you on.
>"She doesn't usually snap at customers or stallions, I wonder if she's alright..."
>You shrug.
"Maybe we caught her on a bad day."
>She sighs.
>"Maybe."
>As the two of you leave the market, the relative quiet is relaxing.
>But you start noticing something.
"Why are there apples everywhere?"
>On ledges, roof corners, window sills, never more than one or two per building, but it's still weird.
>Pinkie looks up.
>"Oh those? Apples anchor the area, making it less Drifty. That's why we call them anchor apples."
>You feel like Solid Snake.
"Drifty?"
>Pinkie gestures vaguely.
>"The mists outside of town, and the twisty ways they conceal. Don't worry, you won't have to worry about that any time soon!"
>That doesn't make you feel any better.
"I'm just surprised no one eats them."
>Pinkie Pie gives you another serious look, though perhaps not quite as severe as before.
>"You don't want to eat them, then you'd be clannap and part blind!"
>You wish you could take notes.
"Clannap?"
>She nods.
>"Part of the Apple Clan, by adoption. They take in anypony who gets apple-eyed."
>You frown.
"Then, the green-eyed pony at the apple stall..."
>"Uh huh! They gave her a job as part of the apple core now!"
>You're just... not even going to ask.
>This is all a little much.
>Pinkie Pie stops by what looks like a bar.
>"And here's the Dulce de Lethe, for when you want to forget something!"
>You raise your eyebrows.
"Is that more literal than drinking alcohol to drown your sorrows?"
>She grins.
"Catching on, good. Yep, don't drink the water, it makes you forgetful. That's why grape juice is free."
"I... see."
>The next stop of the tour is a glittering carousel of horse mannequins in various poses and states of dress.
>It spins lazily while the central column extends four stories high, glimmering and glittering strands radiating from ornate windows to the surrounding buildings and ground.
>You see something move in your peripheral vision and turn to look at it.
>A spindly spider, almost completely transparent with a quartz crystal for an abdomen, crawls up a nearby strand.
>Now that you look closer, the strand itself is transparent and faceted, reflecting the white light of the street lamps.
"Pinkie, what is that?"
>She looks where you are pointing.
>"Oh! That's one of Rarity's spinners. She needs a lot of thread to keep up with the latest trends in fashion!"
>You glance at the other ponies on the street, maybe half of whom are clothed head to hoof.
>And now that you know what you are seeing, what you thought were brooches and lockets are actually more crystal spiders!
"Wait, are all these clothed ponies just spider golems or something?"
>Pinkie laughs.
>"So you heard that rumor too! No, I'm pretty sure most of them just really like veils and scarves and being comfy-cozy fashionable! Speaking of which, you like clothes, right?"
>You eye her warily.
"In moderation."
>She giggles.
>"It's fine, you don't have to follow that trend. But if you want more clothes, you'll definitely want to see Rarity. She'll be thrilled to see new designs. I'd introduce you, but that would take way too long! Come on, one last stop on the tour."
>As pink mare leads you on, you notice more and more of the dull ponies slumped in the alleys.
>You frown.
"What's with those ponies?"
>Pinkie sighs.
>"I wish I knew. They just got... worn down by the Drifts or something. It happens a lot with ponies who go hunting and exploring. I try to help them see the fun in life, but..."
>She shrugs.
>"There's only so much you can do."
>Ahead, you see a great crowd of them gathered around a wide, circular mirror in the ground, wait-
>One by one, they dip their snouts in, and the mirror ripples, but does nothing else.
>The dull ponies lift their muzzles placidly, not even wet or shiny from whatever that is.
>Pinkie follows your gaze.
>"Yeah, you don't need to worry about that. I'm doing what I can for them."
>Before you can ask, she stops in the street.
>"Here we are! Sugarcube Corner, my old workplace! Mr. and Mrs. Cake will take care of you until you get the hang of living here."
>You look at the gingerbread-roofed building that smells enticingly of cinnamon rolls.
"I'm not going to get eaten, right?"
>She rolls her eyes.
>"They're married. It's the perfect place for a lone stallion to live. Now, before I forget, here's your invitation!"
>She hands you a heavily embossed card that simply reads, "Soon."
>"Normally, I'd give you a welcoming party, but I have to go! Give her a headpat when I'm gone, alright?"
>You stare at her in confusion.
"Who?"
>Pinkie merely winks.
>Then she shimmers like a mirage and fades away.
>In her place is a mare with a dull purple coat and red mane.
>Hesitantly, you pat her head.
>The pony closes her eyes and gives you a faint smile, then turns and shuffles over to join the crowd around the mirror in the ground.
>What…?
>Just….
>Okay.
>You take a deep breath and head towards the bakery.
>You're clearly in some sort of Alice in Wonderland sort of weirdness, but there is a distinct lack of beheading, so you're probably safe for now.
>Walking inside, you are greeted by even more delicious scents and a chubby blue mare with a pink, swirly mane.
>"Welcome to Sugarcube Corner! New in town?"
>You rub your neck.
"Yeah, Pinkie just gave me the tour."
>The mare smiles.
>"She's such a sweetie. Well, I'm Mrs. Cake, and a friend of Pinkie is a friend of mine."
>You get the hint.
"I'm..."
>What do you even say? 
>You know this.
>You should know this.
>You say the first thing that comes to mind.
"I'm Anonymous, or Anon for short."
>It's not your name, you know that much.
>But it's not not your name, in some sense.
>It's good enough for now.
>Mrs. Cake beams.
>"Nice to meet you Anon, let me show you to Pinkie's old room, you can stay there as long as you like."
>She walks out from behind the counter and you follow her upstairs.
>Taking a left at the top, she opens a door to reveal a veritable wall of balloons.
>She turns and smiles at you.
>"Just keep going straight, dear, and you'll find a bed soon enough. If you need any help, just yell and me or my husband will be by before you can say gingersnap."
>You eye the balloons.
"Thanks, I'll keep that in mind."
>With nothing else to do, you brace yourself and start wading through the balloons.
>There is a great deal of squeaking and rubbing, but sure enough, you make it to a bed.
>You gingerly lay down and are pleasantly surprised at how soft the mattress is.
>Your mind whirls with all that you have seen today.
>It's all so unsettling, doubly so since you can't recall anything else.
>How would you know what is weird if this is all you have seen?
>You stare up at the balloons, but they give no answer.
>What feels like hours pass, but you don't feel the slightest bit tired.
>Come to think of it, you aren't hungry either, nor thirsty, even after all that walking.
>Something odd is going on here, and you intend to find out what it is.

>Like a gen whatever, the first thing you do is check your phone.
>You aren't exactly surprised it doesn't turn on, but you had gotten better after drowning, so….
>Oh well.
>You put it back in your pocket.
>You push the balloons around a bit and are rewarded with a nightstand to the side of the bed.
>You open the drawer to find it filled to the brim with confetti.
>Huh.
>You wonder if there is anything under the confetti, but you really don't want to risk Overpulling the drawer.
>...
>You untie your pouch and dump it onto the nightstand.
>Then you scoop the coins back into it and dump it again.
>To your relief, your pouch isn't Snipped, and you don't seem to have more bits than before.
>You reach into your pocket and make sure to grab all three pens and five pennies.
>You set the pens aside; you doubt that's enough to start Pulling even if they did fit in the pouch.
>You look at the pennies in your hand dubiously.
>Only one way to find out.
>You drop them into the pouch and start taking them out, one at a time.
>And the pouch is empty after five.
>Which sucks, you're reasonably sure no one else has pennies, it would have been a good bartering item.
> With a sigh, you put your stuff back in your pocket and the bits into the pouch and head downstairs.
>Mrs. Cake is still at the counter, while a handful of ponies sit at the tables and munch on various desserts.
>When she sees you, she giggles.
>"Dear, touch a bit to the register before you shock yourself."
>You blink.
"Oh yeah, from all the balloons."
>You fish out a bit and sure enough, there is a blue spark as you touch it to the register.
>You slip the bit in the pouch and self-consciously pat your hair back down.
"Thanks. So, I have a few questions..."
>Mrs. Cake nods kindly.
>"I'd be more surprised if you didn't."
>You rub your neck nervously.
"I don't feel hungry, thirsty, or tired, even though I normally would."
>She smiles.
>"Convenient, isn't it? Nopony is sure why, but that's how it's been since the sun set."
>You tilt your head.
"Is that... normal? And when will the sun rise?"
>The baker shakes her head.
>"We used to have proper days and nights, but then Celestia disappeared and the Mare in the Moon took over. As for when the next dawn is..."
>She glances around the room.
>"Best not to talk about that, you never know when the black company is listening."
>You raise your eyebrows.
"What is-"
>Mrs. Cake shakes her head.
>"Nopony knows, and the ones that try to find out don't end well. Do you have -any- other questions dear?"
>You resist the urge to look behind you.
"Um... Oh, what's the point of making food and drinks and so on if you can't get hungry?"
>She chuckles.
>"You might not get hungry, but you can still taste good food. In fact, that makes it easier to make food that tastes good, since you don't need to digest it. Here, try a cinnamon roll."
>You hesitantly take the plated pastry and a fork.
>It smells absolutely delicious.
>You raise an eyebrow at her.
"The first taste is free?"
>She laughs.
>"Hardly! That will be one bit, young colt."
>You hand her the bit and dig in.
>You moan as the first bite nearly melts on your tongue.
>Buttery and rich without being overwhelmingly so, that low spice of cinnamon offset by creamy frosting and brown sugar, grounded by a soft and almost chewy roll.
>Mrs. Cake blushes and looks away.
>"It sounds like you like it."
>You reluctantly swallow.
"It's the best I've ever had!"
>You laugh incredulously.
"I can see why you are doing so well despite everything."
>She nods with a proud look on her face.
>"My husband and I have had a long time to hone our craft."
>Mrs. Cake busies herself with wiping the counter while you finish off the cinnamon roll.
>You really take your time, savoring every bite, shaking your head in wonder at the stomach ache that never comes.
>It occurs to you that this is merely baking.
>What other things have been honed to the same degree?
>You set your fork down at last.
"Is the price for this really one bit?"
>Mrs. Cake shakes her head with a smile.
>"We don't really do prices anymore. I got a bit and the pleasure of seeing your reaction. Don't expect that sort of trade again, married mares shouldn't be buying that sort of thing from stallions."
>Your face heats up.
"I made some odd noises, I guess."
>She averts her eyes.
>"Don't worry about it, dear. First tastes can be...intense."
>You try not to think about the implications of that.
"So! Uh, I don't actually have enough of anything to Pull from. Aside from the bits. Are there jobs or something I can do to change that?"
>Mrs. Cake nods.
>"Of course. Ponies barter for favors, secrets, anything they are too lazy to do for themselves, all sorts. For instance, I would be interested in any dessert recipes you would know..."
>You smile sheepishly.
"I mostly used mixes and premade desserts."
>She shrugs.
>"You never know, especially with stallions. Something to get you started is going to Rarity to get your clothes rendered and remade. That will get you plenty of scraps that you can Pull."
>You look down at your shirt.
"Huh. That does sound like a good start. Thanks, Mrs. Cake."
>She nods pleasantly.
>"Anytime, dear. Anything else?"
>You run a hand through your hair, then pause.
"Yes, one more thing. How would I go about finding a more permanent place to stay?"
>Mrs. Cake smirks.
>"What, the balloons aren't good enough for you? Well, typically, you find something you want to do, and either buy a lease from somepony involved or hire ponies to build something for you."
>You frown.
>Given the barter economy, you have no idea how close or far you are from that.
>You fish a penny from your pocket and show it to her.
"Would this be valuable?"
>She gives it a quick glance and a shrug.
>"Depends on who you ask. A coin collector, a historian, or a smith, they would all give you different values and items or services to trade for. Best keep it until you find something you actually want to do."
>You nod and slip it back in your pocket.
"Thanks again. I'll see you later."
>She smiles.
>"Stay safe, dear. You're always welcome here."
>With that, you set out.
>The moon is just as high as it was when you first arrived.
>Seeing all the dull ponies around reminds you of the more unsettling parts of your talk with the baker and Pinkie Pie.
>It doesn't sit right with you, but you really need more information before you start sticking your nose into hornets nests.
>As you walk down the street, you see one of the lamps flicker out and dim into sporadic flashes of blue.
>You glance around, but none of the ponies seem to pay it any attention.
>You approach and stand on your tiptoes to look through the pane of cloudy glass.
>There is some sort of round thing at the bottom, sparking and arcing with blue bolts of electricity.
>Some sort of broken filament?
>You settle back on your heels and look around again.
>Ponies are glancing at you, but none are angling towards you.
>You'll just have to keep an eye on the lamp when you pass through here next time.
>You look around and see an empty lot nearby with owl statues along the perimeter.
>You think you can remember it for next time.

>The carrousel is as unsettlingly dazzling as ever.
>You walk along the path that leads up to the revolving display.
>Past the horse mannequins you see rows and islands of shelves and racks of clothes under dim white lights in the ceiling.
>Past that is a circle of counters where ponies in black vests and white body stockings deal with customers.
>The whole area is interspersed with the completely covered ponies browsing or waiting in line.
>You step up onto the carrousel and weave your way through the racks.
>You are intercepted by a vested stallion, his youthful face with butter yellow fur at odds with his short trimmed gray mane.
>He smiles the smile of customer service.
>"Welcome to Carrousel Boutique, can I help you put together a new you?"
>Oh yeah, that's not creepy at all.
"I was actually hoping to get my clothes, uh, rendered? I'm new in town so..."
>He claps his hooves excitedly.
>"Wonderful! I'll take you to Lady Rarity right away!"
>As he leads you past the counters and through a dark-polished wooden door, he starts chattering.
>"Tell me, have you decided your politics?"
>You pass by a room with mirrors and a stool.
"Uh, not really. Like I said, I'm new here."
>He grins as he pulls out a key ring and unlocks the door to an inner spiral staircase.
>"Perfect! As you will know, the Gray Mayor promises to push an initiative to quell the rising Sundance problem, unlike her opponent!"
>You follow him up the stairs.
"Oh. That's good?"
>He snorts .
>"Of course it's good, nopony likes being scorched sick. Did you know the Pink Mayor lets stallions in her Lamp Auditors carry lanterns too? They always get so wrinkly and worn out and it's their own fault, but I still feel sorry for them."
>You blink.
"Do they have anything to do with fixing the street lamps? I saw one go out earlier."
>He waves a hoof dismissively.
>"Of course, that is their stated job, but you don't have to use a lantern to do it!"
>You pass a landing and glance through the window in the door.
>In the room beyond, you can see stacks upon stacks of squares of cloth, bundled up with glistening string and filling entire walls of shelves.
>You turn to see your guide has gotten a bit ahead of you.
>You step quickly to catch up.
"So, there are two mayors?"
>He nods.
>"The Gray Mayor was here first, of course, but some time after the Setting, the Pink Mayor appeared and set up the lamps. Ever since, they have been maneuvering around each other. It's honestly a disgrace."
>You pass another landing, an immense opaque purple crystal where the door would be.
>Your guide glances at it longingly then moves on.
>You feel like you should be out of breath after climbing two staircases, but you feel fine.
>You could get used to this.
"Seems like an election would solve the problem, whatever it is."
>The stallion sighs.
>"We have elections every two years, but things are too close to be decisive. And when one wins, they allow the other to reside in mayoral office space, and they each have their own secret operatives. It's such a mess, that's why we need new blood like you to shake things up, tip the scales towards justice!"
>You blink.
"I doubt one vote will make a difference if things have been so close for this long."
>He reaches the last landing and turns to look at you with determination.
>"Every vote counts! Especially with the Sundance troubles on the rise!"
>You hold your hands up in surrender.
"I get it, I get it. I'll vote in the next election. When is it?"
>Your guide becomes noticeably less agitated.
>"In nine months and a few nights. The date is posted at the city hall, if you ever need a reminder."
>You glance significantly at the door.
>The stallion blinks, then blushes.
>"Sorry, I got caught up in- let's just do this."
>He opens the door and calls out, "Lady Rarity, a newcomer is here for a rendering."
>Your guide gives you an apologetic smile and trots back down the stairs.
>You step cautiously into the room.
>It's almost blindingly bright after dealing with the night and the dim lights of the store front.
>As your eyes adjust, you see horse mannequins strewn about with half-finished clothing pieces hanging off of them.
>There are plenty of transparent crystals lying about, in bins, in pieces, in clothing, in motion and crawling along glowing strands running parallel with the ceiling.
>There is a veritable hive of the weird spiders swarming around up there.
>It makes your skin crawl.
>In fact, if it weren't for Pinkie and Mrs. Cake's recommendation, you would be out the door and searching for the strongest flamethrower you could find.
>Instead, you wait only a little longer before a white pony in a shimmering sky blue dress walks out from around the curve of the room.
>Her mane is a rich purple, tied up in an elegant bun studded with gems, while two short curtains of ringlets frame her face.
>She is wearing glasses with six stacked wheels of lenses by each eye piece, the whole thing held up by a thick white strap wrapping around her head.
>Her horn lights up with the same sky blue as her dress, and the glasses float to a nearby table
>She gives you a warm smile.
>"I am ever so sorry to make you wait. My name is Rarity, Lady Rarity if you must. And who might you be?"
>You incline your head.
"I'm Anonymous, Anon for short. Ah, Mrs. Cake recommended you to me?"
>Rarity's smile broadens.
>"And how is she? It's been far too long since I dropped by for a treat."
>You shrug.
"She seemed pretty happy and content to me. Did a good cinnamon roll."
>The unicorn clears a table, the assorted clutter floating up and raining into various bins.
>"That's good to hear, she has always been a sweet mare. Now, if you would take off your clothes, we can get started."
> You blush, somewhat turned on by her refined accent giving such commands.
"Uh, could I get a changing screen?"
>She blinks.
>"Oh, of course. Pardon me, it has been some time since I last rendered for a stallion."
>She levitates a three-panel white screen between you and you start taking off your t-shirt.
>As soon as you drape it over the top, she snatches it away.
>"Hmm, similar to minotaur designs, and hasn't it been some time since I've last had one of those around?"
>You take off your shorts next, which also disappear in short order.
>Even with the screen in place, you feel rather exposed just standing in your boxers, socks and- oh yeah.
>You take off a sock and drape it over the screen.
>There is a pause.
>"And your ball-bra too, darling. I shan't be able to make you a full wardrobe without it. I assure you, my interest in such things is purely professional after all these years."
>You cough.
"I don't have a ball bra, but there is this."
>You hesitantly slip off your boxers and offer them up to the other side of the screen.
>The momentary silence is broken by an audible sniff.
"Did you really just sniff my underwear?"
>You can't tell if you are amused or aroused.
>You glance up at the ceiling spiders and aroused no longer becomes an option.
>"I assure you, I was merely gathering information on what kind of fabric this is. Yes, that and nothing else. Now, while you wait, why don't you try on these ball bras until you find one you like?"
>You are immediately inundated with...
>Jockstraps, apparently, of every color in the rainbow.
>Not to mention all sorts of patterns and lace embroidery.
>Nevertheless, you feel a little better after putting on a pragmatic black one to cover your junk.
>Still feels weird to have your butt hanging out though.
>As you sift through the offerings, you hear slithering and ripping sounds from the other side of the screen.
>You don't really pay any attention to it, until you hear the unmistakable sound of something being Snipped.
>And then it happens again and again and you start reconsidering not running out the door.
>Finally, it stops and you no longer feel existential dread.
>As much.
>It's hard to describe your relief when your clothes appear over top the screen once more.
>You quickly put on your boxers, then more leisurely the rest.
>As you pull your shirt back on, you grunt in surprise.
"No seams?"
>"Did you want seams? I always find them to be slightly uncomfortable."
>You step out from behind the screen to find Rarity tying off the last of eight gallon-sized bags on the table.
"Uh no, I feel the same way."
>Four spiders are each gnawing on a different sample from your clothes.
>You can see thread of the same color begin to spool in their abdomens.
>Rarity follows your gaze and smiles in pride.
>"Ingenious, aren't they? With them, I can turn anything into thread, and that has opened vast horizons of possibilities. Would you like one?"
>You glance between her and the swarm above warily.
"Will I end up as..."
>You gesture vaguely up and down your body.
>She rolls her eyes.
>"They call themselves the 'Threadbare' as if that's clever. I'd be most disappointed if you did become like them, they have lost sight of the fact that it's the outfit that suits the pony, not vice versa."
>You feel a little better about her obvious disdain for them.
"So, what would I use a spider for?"
>Rarity perks up at your neutral tone.
>"Oh, all sorts of things. Obviously, if you come across a material you would like to wear, a spinner can chew it up and make thread for weaving. Plenty of ponies do that for Pulling material. They also follow most commands, so you can have it fetch things for you, or go for help if you are trapped somewhere, and so on."
>You raise your eyebrows.
"Do ponies get trapped often?"
>She shrugs.
>"Explorers more than others."
>You rub your chin.
"That does sound pretty handy. And you're just giving them away?"
>Rarity nods.
>"It's not entirely charity, you must understand. For instance, many of the Threadbare bring in thread made from materials I would never risk myself for, just for the novelty of wearing it."
>Ah, that makes sense.
"In that case, sure, I'll take one."
>At that, a spinner drops onto the table and salutes you with one leg.
>You glance at Rarity.
"How smart are these things, anyhow?"
>She shrugs.
>"I'm not entirely sure, but they seem to understand most things I say to them. Alas, they do not seem to understand romance, perhaps because they do not breed."
>You approach the table and hold out a hand.
>The spinner crawls onto your palm, hunched a little to keep all of its legs on your hand.
>You raise it to eye level.
"I think I shall name you Charlotte."
>It (she?) does a spidery bow, and you coax it onto your shirt sleeve.
>Rarity smirks a little at that and pushes four of the bags forward.
>"Your scraps, sir. And did you find any ball bras you liked?"
>You pause as you reach for the bags.
"Oh, yeah, uh, I forgot I was wearing one, I'll-"
>"Keep it. A gentlemare such as myself cannot countenance leaving a stallion in indecency, after all."
>Okay, that is a weird thing to say in a pattern you are starting to recognize.
>But you have more important things to ask about.
"And if I wanted to trade for more clothes, what sorts of things should I bring?"
>Rarity gestures around her.
>"Anything like what you see here. Thread, gems, cloth, lenses, jewelry... As a matter of fact, I have an errand I would ask of you in return for a set in your choice of reasonable fabrics."
>You tilt your head inquisitively .
"What would that be?"
>The white mare looks down at the table with a rueful expression.
>"As you might guess, I spend perhaps too much time sequestered up here. And yet I can feel myself on the verge of some realization, some epiphany that shall surely sweep the fashion world once I realize it! But I do hear rumors filtering up about trouble around Sweet Apple Acres. I would ask that you convey my concern to my good friend Applejack, and find out what is the matter."
>You glance at Charlotte.
"Is there anything I should know before I meet her?"
>Rarity tilts her head, considering.
>"Don't bring up apple dishes? And certainly do not eat the apples."
>You nod.
"Should be easy enough to remember. I'll do it."
>Rarity beams at you.
>"Wonderful! Here, take my calling card and give it to her."
>You accept what looks like a business card with three diamonds on one side and "Hope you are well" written in cursive on the other side.
>You pocket it.
"And where is Sweet Apple Acres?"
>Rarity levitates a scrap of white cloth from a small stack and stitches a quick map in black thread.
>You are silently impressed by the speed and straightness of the lines, even as you take the map from her profering magic.
>She moves a mote of light along the map.
>"Head west until you come across a high stone fence, then follow it until you encounter an Apple Core member, and they can guide you the rest of the way."
>You nod.
"Seems fairly straightforward. I'll get started right away."
>Rarity smiles.
>"Thank you, darling. It is so hard to concentrate properly when I am distracted by such rumors."
>You grab your bags of scraps, cradling two of them along your left arm.
"Glad to help. See you later, Rarity."
>"Au revoir, Anonymous."


>You didn't go there straight away, though.
>You went back to Sugarcube Corner to drop off your bags and exchange greetings with a lanky stallion that turned out to be Mr. Cake.
>He seemed nice enough, if a bit higher strung than his wife.
>Following the map leads you through increasingly sparsely settled neighborhoods.
>Fewer Threadbare, more dull ponies, and you start to see ponies with makeshift armor, some with spears, the pegasi festooned with pouches.
>Sure enough, you reach a high cobblestone wall and barely follow it for a few minutes before you come across two ponies in red vests with shovels.
>The amber mare comes to a stop, her violet partner with piercing green eyes soon after.
>You raise a hand in greeting.
"Hi, I'm Anon. Lady Rarity wanted me to check on Applejack for her."
>The amber mare raises an eyebrow.
>"Do you have any proof?"
>You draw the calling card out of your pocket.
"Will this do?"
>The violet mare takes a few steps forward and sniffs.
>She turns and nods to her partner.
>The amber mare relaxes.
>"Alright, come along. I'm Poached Pear and this is Dye Hard."
>Dye nods towards you.
>"Pleasure."
>You smile politely.
"Likewise."
>You follow them a short way along the wall and to an iron gate.
>A second pair of ponies take one look at Dye Hard, lift the crossbeam, and pull the gate open.
>As you proceed through and down a dirt road, you ask,
"So, what does the Apple Core do, exactly?"
>Poached looks over her shoulder at you.
>"I take it you're new? Ah, well, mostly it's guarding and harvesting apple trees, as well as making sure the ways between stay stable. As the saying goes, an apple on the way keeps the Doctor at bay."
>That's not ominous at all.
"Yeah, just got here earlier to...day? Tonight?"
>Dye grunts out, "Night."
>Poached rolls her eyes.
>"Just in case you didn't get the warning, don't eat the apples or else you'll end up like Dye here, trying to pretend to be a strong and silent mare to match her eerie eyes."
>"Hey! I'm strong and silent! ...Most of the time...."
>You make sure to keep a straight face.
"For what it's worth, you seemed very mysterious and reliable."
>Dye smiles at you.
>"Thanks! I keep trying to work out some hoof signs with Poached, but she keeps on saying it's a waste of time."
>Poached Pear snorts.
>"That's because it is."
>You chuckle.
"I dunno, what if you're sneaking up on an apple thief or something, and you don't want to alert them while you plan your attack?"
>Poached frowns.
>"It's not the apple thieves we're worried about...."
>You look at her inquisitively.
"Oh? What are you worried about?"
>She sighs.
>"It's the drifts-damned wood raiders. We're losing too many trees, just because applewood is the only thing Sundance doesn't burn right through."
>You tilt your head.
"What is Sundance? And shouldn't wood burn?"
>Poached shrugs.
>"Sundance is when balls of light come boiling out of the Drifts or even town, sometimes. Burn right through anything but applewood, not sure how or why, that's just how it is. Even being near it wears on you."
>You aren't sure what to make of that.
"Huh. Well, I can see why you would want applewood to protect you. I'm just not sure why someone would steal it, a new construction project would be pretty obvious."
>Dye turns and trots backwards facing vaguely in your direction with a grin.
>"I bet it's the black company, for wherever they take ponies! Or, or somepony is trying to make a sun to eclipse the moon! That's what I would do."
>Poached shakes her head good naturedly.
>"It's probably just some hunters trying to make a lasting Drift camp. And when the anchoring apples get eaten while they are away, they have to start over."
>The conversation brings you to a plantation house.
>The oldest mare you've seen sits in a rocking chair on the veranda, staring blankly forward.
>She isn't one of the dull ponies, but she doesn't react to your arrival and your guides merely nod to her.
>They open the front door and lead you through a plainly decorated foyer, the wall lamps glowing that same soft white as the street lamps.
>Poached slips through a set of double doors at the far end of the foyer.
>You don't have to wait long before she reappears and beckons you in.
>The next room is spacious, but cluttered with tables covered in papers, while two ponies stand by a dining table covered with a large map.
>The mare has an orange coat, a cowboy hat, wooden front legs attached to her barrel with a harness, and those piercing green eyes.
>The stallion is about as tall as you, his coat a deep red from where his wooden plate armor doesn't cover it.
>The mare turns her head in your general direction.
>"Ah'm sorry you had to come all this way, but go ahead and tell Rarity Ah ain't going to whatever frou frou tea party or whatever she has in mind."
>You raise your hands in surrender.
"It's not about that. She just wants to check on you, and find out what's wrong. I assume it's the wood raiders?"
>Applejack scrunches.
>"Pretty much. Only there's been a lot more of them lately, and there's only so many in the Apple Core to watch over them. If Ah pull back the way patrols, then we might just lose our path to Canterlot. If Ah don't, we'll lose an entire orchard's worth of trees every couple months, and we only have five to begin with."
>You frown.
"That's pretty serious. Is there anyone you can call on for reinforcements?"
>She snorts.
>"Any as could have motive to be a raider. Ah ain't putting a fox to guard this here henhouse."
>You feel something move near your pocket and look down to see Charlotte pulling out Rarity's business card.
>You take it from the spider, and-
>You look up at Applejack.
"What if Rarity has her spiders spin webs over your orchards? Even if they can't catch the raiders, they could at least alert the core, and they could catch the trespasser."
>She rocks back on her hind legs, considering it.
>She looks at Charlotte.
>"Can your kind do that? Make enough webs to cover acres of trees?"
>Charlotte crawls up onto your shoulder and raises her leg in a salute.
>Applejack makes a rueful chuckle.
>"If this works out, Ah may have to go to a frou frou whatever after all. Alright, Mr. uh..."
"Anon."
>"Mr. Anon, you've got the longest legs here, get to Rarity as fast as you can and tell her your idea. Sooner we get started, the more trees we save. We can talk compensation after, you have my word."
>You nod and head back the way you came at a jog.
>Once you get out of the house, you start running, and what an odd feeling that is.
>You know you should be panting, but it doesn't feel like you are exerting yourself at all.
>The gate comes up before you know it, and you slow down to a walk.
"Uh, hi, can you let me through?"
>The apple guards glance at each other.
>"Where are-"
>Dye comes skidding to a halt, just barely missing you.
>"It's fine, the boss gave him a priority mission."
>The guards raise their eyebrows at you, but pull the gate open nevertheless.
>You take off again, yelling "Thanks!" to Dye as she falls further behind you.
>The streets aren't particularly crowded, but you do have to weave around some ponies and jump over a particularly short mare.
>Okay, you didn't have to jump over her, but you are enjoying the feeling of sprinting without tiring entirely too much.
>You also get more than a few wolf whistles your way, which is...nice?
>If somewhat confusing.
>Of course, you have to slow down when you get to the carrousel.
>This time, a cream mare with a light blue mane in store uniform meets you as you emerge from the aisles.
>"Right this way, sir."
>She trots ahead and unlocks the stairwell door for you.
>You climb the stairs quickly, and find Rarity waiting expectantly in her workshop.
>"You were in such a hurry, Darling. What seems to be the matter?"
>You take a breath, more out of habit than need.
"Wood raiders are cutting down a lot of Applejack's trees. She wants your spiders to web over the orchard to catch them."
>She raises her eyebrows.
>"Truly? Then I shan't waste anymore time. Lovelies, to Sweet Apple Acres!"
>The swarm of spiders reacts instantly, surging out of the windows and along the glimmering strands into town.
>Rarity looks to the mare beside you.
>"Coco, while I'm gone, show him around the scrap repository. Happy shopping, Anonymous!"
>And then she pops out of existence.
"What."
>Coco bumps her shoulder against your leg.
>"If you'll follow me, sir?"
>You shrug.
"Might as well."
>She leads you to the second floor landing and unlocks the door.
>You had seen the shelves of cloth before, but stepping into the room, it stretches much further than you thought was possible.
>You shake your head in wonder.
"That's a lot of cloth."
>Coco smiles with pride.
>"It is the product of over 40 years of dedication to fashion. There is no wider selection in Equestria."
>You scratch your cheek.
"That's good, but it's kind of overwhelming when I want to narrow it down to one or two for an outfit."
>She nods.
>"Then I shall assist you. What sort of outfit would you like made? Something daring, or modest? Practical or elaborate? Protective, nondescript, or flamboyant?"
>You look down at your t-shirt and shorts.
>They're pretty comfortable, but that's about it.
>The question is, are you going to need armor or formal clothes more in the near future?
>Or do you even have to make a choice?
"Can I get armor-plated formalwear?"
>Coco raises her eyebrows.
>"Are you in danger?"
>You smile sheepishly.
"I don't think so? It's just, you know, better safe than sorry."
>She gives you a dubious look, then starts trotting along the shelves.
>"In that case, you'll want diamond cloth with silk lining. Ah, here."
>She grabs a bundle of white cloth and holds it up for you.
>You take it and give it a squeeze.
>It bends about as easily as a paperclip, if you had to guess.
"Uh, isn't diamond incredibly valuable?"
>Coco nods.
>"Especially since the only gems we can find in the ground are quiescent quartz."
>You frown.
"Then wouldn't I just get mugged for my clothes pretty quickly?"
>She smiles.
>"There's no need to worry. We enchant all our clothing to return to their rightful owners if it is removed against their will."
>You look down at the diamond bundle in your hand.
"Then I think I will go with this. And you said something about silk?"
>Coco nods.
>"Right this way. Do you have a preference for the color?"
>You don't even have to think about it .
"Green."

>It turns out, there is a trap door behind the first floor staircase.
>A handful of unicorns sit at their work tables, lined with baskets of scraps with what you guess is an order form on top.
>They levitate clothing in front of themselves, adding square after square of scraps and trimming the piece down to spec.
>Coco leads you to a chartreuse mare with a long, straight teal mane.
>She's slumped at her table, idly paging through the order forms.
>Coco clears her throat.
>"Fasten, I have a custom job for you."
>The unicorn mare sighs and starts to sit up straight.
>"If this is another veil, Stars help me, I-"
>Fasten perks up as she sees you.
>"Well, hello hello hello, what do we have here?"
>The cream mare is unimpressed.
>"Fasten Furious, let me introduce to you Mr. Anonymous, who has done at least one personal favor to Lady Rarity herself today. Mr. Anonymous, this is Fasten Furious, who would have been fired long ago if she wasn't actually good at tailoring."
>You nod in greeting.
"Nice to meet you."
>She eyes you up and down.
>"You too, handsome. I'm going to enjoy taking your... measurements."
>Coco grabs the bundle of diamond cloth and chucks it at Fasten's face with a good 'thwap'.
>"Behave or else I'll have you on scarf and veil detail until the sun rises!"
>The unicorn shudders.
>"I'll be good, I'll be good! Please, no more rectangles!"
>You set the bundle of meme-arrow green silk in front of her.
"Technically, squares are rectangles."
>Fasten scowls at you.
>"I'm going to pretend you never said that. Now,"
>She focuses on you with a peculiar intensity.
>"What are we making?"

>The results are far more impressive that you anticipated.
>The white suit practically glows, with subtle variations in the diamond cloth to give a pinstriped effect to the pants.
"It's like a wonderful ice cream suit!"
>Except, you know, with a green silk tie.
>Fasten barks out a laugh.
>"Tried that once. Not even spinners kept it from melting."
>You grab the hangers and look around.
"Is there somewhere I can change?"
>Coco nods towards a door.
>"The supply room there."
>You waste no time in putting on your new threads.
>When you come back out, the rest of the tailors have joined Coco and Fasten.
>You grin and swagger up to them, doing a quick 360 and spreading your arms.
"What do you think?"
>"I love my job!"
>"It's like an arrow pointing straight at his-"
>"I know!"
>"Mmm, strut for mama."
>Coco gives the rest of the mares a weak glare, then turns back to you.
>"You look quite handsome in it, Mr. Anonymous."
>You feel your face warm at all the praise.
"Thank you, I love it. And thank you too, Fasten, it fits perfectly."
>Fasten bites her lip.
>"You bet your sweet tush it does."
>Coco just sighs.
>A spider drops down from the ceiling carrying a note.
>Coco gives it a quick read, then nods her thanks.
>She turns to you as the spider crawls back up.
>"Lady Rarity wishes to speak with you."
>You smooth your tie down.
"Sounds good. Let's go."

>It turns out not to be just Rarity waiting for you.
>Applejack tips her hat to you.
>"The Apple clan owes you a debt of gratitude, Anon. If ever you need help or a place to stay, do not hesitate to call on us."
>You nod with a serious expression.
"I'll keep that in mind."
>Rarity gives you a smug smile.
>"I am quite grateful to you too, Anon. It's been far too long since I got Applejack into a dress."
>The orange mare makes an unamused grunt.
>You try for a diplomatic smile.
"Glad to help. Especially since I got this really nice suit out of the bargain."
>Rarity nods in approval.
>"It is quite nice, Fasten does good work. Speaking of which, do you have any idea of what you want to do?"
>You scratch your cheek.
"Well, I do like running, so-"
>The mares smirk at that.
>Whatever.
"I was thinking maybe I could be a courier?"
>Applejack looks at you dubiously.
>"No offense, but you ain't blending in at all by yourself, let alone in that fancy getup."
>You raise an eyebrow, but Rarity jumps in before you can say anything.
>"He might not be a good fit for clandestine courier work, but I am quite sure there are high society mares who would love to have a remarkable messenger to let everypony know to whom they are sending a letter."
>You raise an eyebrow.
"Would I still be able to run for that? Seems like it would violate decorum or something."
>Rarity smirks.
>"Trust me, Darling. Having you run their letter would be a perk they would pay dearly for."
>You raise your eyebrows.
"Really. Well, then that sounds great. When can I start?"
>The white mare holds up a hoof.
>"It will take some time to advertise your services to my contacts. In the meantime, I'll be teaching you the little etiquette to be expected of you, and you should take the opportunity to explore the town and get an idea of what it's like."
>You nod.
"Sounds sensible. I'll be in your care."
>You had thought regular courier work would get you around town and give you insight into the more secret goings on.
>This promises to be even more fruitful on that front.
>You can hardly wait.
--
>As it turns out, Rarity needs some time to prepare teaching materials.
>Applejack gives you a pitying look before Rarity teleports her back to Sweet Apple Acres.
>In the meantime, Rarity marks Time Turner's Clockworks on your map.
>On the way back to Sugarcube Corner for your scraps, you pause at the flickering street lamp.
>It's just as you left it, but the lot with the owl statues is no longer empty.
>A white marble tower stretches up into the sky, something jutting out from the edge.
>A movement draws your eye, and a door opens at the base of the tower.
>A lilac mare with a purple and teal mane approaches you with a broad smile.
>"You seek knowledge, don't you?"
>You lean back.
"Ye-es?"
>She turns and beckons you towards the tower.
>"Come, come, enter the Reflectory Refectory! We have good answers and better questions!"
>You take a few cautious steps into the lot and she retreats into the doorway.
>As she leaves the light of the street, you see pinpricks of light swirling and... convulsing in her eyes.
>You swallow as your gut twists in nameless dread.
"Maybe some other time."
>She sits down, her smile never fading.
>"Our doors are always open to seekers of knowledge. Know that you may always enter and be welcomed wherever you find us."
>You take careful steps back until you feel the cobblestones of the street under your shoes.
>She's still watching you.
>You stand frozen, unwilling to turn your back on the mare, unwilling to risk tripping and breaking line of sight.
>After what feels like forever, a mare sighs from behind you.
>She enters your view, her bushy red mane contrasting against her cream coat.
>A spar of wood juts out from her saddle.
>From that spar hangs a curious wooden contraption, like a miniature phone booth, only-
>The mare pulls a handle on it and the front panel flips up.
>Warm, yellow light spills out.
>Until you saw it, you hadn't realized how tired you were, nor how much you missed sunlight.
>But that's not all.
>The tower fades from view, mare and all.
>You eye the once again empty lot with distrust.
"Is it... gone?"
>The mare grunts and releases the handle, the panel falling closed.
>"For now. There's a reason we leave these places alone."
>You feel your fatigue disappear in an instant that makes you at once relieved and wistful.
>The mare looks up at you through purple rimmed glasses.
>"Peppermint Twist, Lamp Auditor."
>You blink.
"Oh, uh, Anonymous, prospective courier?"
>She looks you up and down, then shrugs.
>"Whatever you want to do, if you really are interested in finding out the truth, becoming a Lamp Auditor is a good way to do it."
>She walks over to the flickering lamp.
>You follow.
"And how would I do that?"
>Peppermint pulls an extending ladder out of her saddlebag and props it up against the street lamp.
>"Easy enough. Go to the Pink Mayor and ask about it. Pass the initiation, and you'll get the job."
>She grabs a waterskin from her other saddlebag and holds it in her teeth as she climbs.
>You wait until she... fills up the lamp, apparently.
"So what's the deal with these lamps? Electricity and what?"
>Twist puts the empty waterskin back.
>"Unripe zap apple and water. Not sure about the thaumics behind it, Pink Mayor says it's some kind of resonance that makes the light."
>You frown.
"That tells me almost nothing."
>She chuckles.
>"If you want to know more, ask her. In the meantime, I have my beat to patrol."
>She sets off at a trot.
>You could follow her, but you have your own errand.
>As you continue on your way, you reflect on the yellow light from her lamp? Lantern?
>Her wooden lantern.
>That was definitely Sundance inside, which is odd.
>You were expecting some sort of radiation sickness or something, not... comforting normalcy?
>Maybe it gets worse on longer exposures, but you bet not.
>You nod to Mr. Cake as you head up the stairs to Pinkie's room.
>How many scraps should you take? 
>You opt for two of each, which makes a sizeable lump in your pocket.
>...How much for a pile of pouches?
>You grab the bag of your shirt scraps.
>You make your way back outside just in time to see a blue octopus jet out of the air and fall flat on its face a few yards away.
>You blink.
>You look around, but no pony seems to be bothered by sudden cephalopods.
>One of the dull ponies dips his snout in the mirror pool, and fades into Pinkie Pie.
>She catches your eye, gives a cheery wave and bounces over to the octopus.
>By the time you reach them, Pinkie has helped it float in the air and is chatting happily with it.
>"Hey Anon! This is Kh'tk'cl'toc!"
>You wave at the octopus that stares at you blankly.
"Nice to meet you?"
>It just clicks its beak a few times.
>Pinkie nods.
>"Yeah, there's all sorts here. Anon, you settling in alright?"
>You nod with a smile.
"Sure am, thanks for showing me around. As a matter of fact, I landed a potential gig with Rarity."
>She beams at you.
>"Great! I had a feeling she could help you out! Anyways, gotta go give Toccy the tour, see ya!"
"See you around."
>You wonder where she would take an octopus, or how it even floats...
>At any rate, you make it to Time Turner's Clockworks without any other incident.
>The clock store is nestled between two buildings, the polished wood, brass, and glass of the exterior putting you in the mind of an antique shop.
>The windows show two displays.
> One has ornate clocks with rather more hands and dials than is standard, only slightly simpler pocket watches between their larger cousins.
>The other has a variety of toys and contraptions: a wind-up pony, some sort of crossbow with two strings and crossbars, and a music box plinking out some faint tune.
>You open the door to find the shop is much deeper than you thought it would be, nearly 50 feet from the door to the counter.
>The walls are covered in shelves, hourglasses and locks closest to the door, then gradually increasing in complexity and no doubt value closer to the counter.
>But what steals your attention is the immense clock face upright in the center of the shop.
>It is warped oddly at the edges, almost like you are seeing it through a fisheye lens.
>You take a few steps to the side and it smoothly shifts to face you.
>"Magnificent, isn't it? One of my finest works!"
>You startle and look to your side where a brown stallion in a red suitcoat grins at you.
>A long patchwork scarf trails behind him on the ground, leading back to the counter.
>You glance once more at the weird clock.
"Uh, yeah. Crazy how it follows you around, some kind of optical illusion?"
>The stallion shakes his head with a chuckle.
>"Just mirrors and lenses. But I'm getting ahead of myself, I'm Time Turner, welcome to my clockworks."
>You shake his proffered hoof.
"Anonymous, prospective courier. I was told to look for a pocket watch?"
>Turner nods.
>"I have plenty of those. Will you be crossing the drifts? Any good at channeling your personal magic?"
>You blink.
"Uh, maybe, and I'm not sure I have personal magic."
>He frowns.
>"Everypony, excuse me, everybeing has some magic. Let's see...."
>He takes a tuning fork from inside his coat and taps it against your shoe.
>It doesn't seem to be making a sound, oddly enough.
>Time Turner runs it up your body
>Finally, the fork thrums when it passes over your fingers.
"Huh."
>The stallion is a little surprised himself.
>"Not sure what you can do with your fingers as a thaumic focus, so let's go with the basics. I think a standard wayfarer's compass would fit your needs."
>He leads you to a shelf and hoofs you a smooth pocket watch with a braided rope and steel clip.
>You press the button and it pops open.
>Instead of the usual clock face, the circle is divided into 24 ticks, every other one labelled with a number.
>You do see the expected hour and minute hands, but there is also a compass inlaid below them.
"So this points north?"
>Turner shakes his head.
>"No, those stopped working at the setting. This compass merely points towards the closest apple."
>You raise your eyebrows, but that does sound useful.
"That'll do. Would you be willing to trade for some scraps?"
>He grins.
>"I had a feeling that might be what you had. Please tell me it's that diamond cloth!"
>You shake your head.
"Sorry, no can do. Here's what I have."
>You pull out your selection of scraps from your pocket.
>Time Turner tilts his head and runs his hoof over the 2 inches square cloth.
>"What is this fabric? It doesn't feel like silk or cotton..."
>You shrug.
"Probably polyester, or a polyester-cotton blend."
>He starts reeling in his scarf, running his hoof over the patches.
>This takes more than a few minutes, the resulting pile coming up to his chest.
>He finally reaches the end, and trots in place.
>"It's new! Polyester, you said? I trust you've had Rarity render it for you?"
>You nod.
>He grins.
>"Oh, I can't wait to see what she can make out of it! But first, the bartering, yes..."
>He smiles at you.
>"One wayfarer's compass for that assortment of scraps, agreed?"
>You blink.
"Sure?"
>Time Turner stares at you, then shakes his head.
>"This won't do at all, Anonymous. You have to haggle, and you most definitely have to know the worth of what you have. Most ponies who have been around for a while have piles, Pullable piles of everything they are trading. New things, things almost nopony else has, come at a premium. New materials come at an even higher premium."
>You feel kinda dumb.
"That makes sense. So, what would a fair trade have been?"
>The stallion trots over to a pistol-sized crossbow and shows it to you.
>"This is a stone-needler. Get your spinner to make stone threads of a gauge to match the channel there, and  you can drive off most creatures you encounter in the shallow Drifts. The mechanisms are fairly robust and easy to repair. Because this and the compass take skill and knowledge to put together, they are rather valuable, worth about two of your new scraps."
>You look at your assortment of scraps.
"That does sound handy. So, one of each of my scraps for the compass and crossbow?"
>Turner smiles.
>"Much better."
>You make the exchange, pocketing the compass and putting the crossbow in your scrap bag.
"Say, what would be a fair trade for a pile of bags?"
>The stallion looks you in the eye.
>"Anytime you trade for a pile, you are chipping away at their livelihood. Some ponies will refuse entirely, but otherwise, it's always a pile for a pile. When it comes to Deep Pockets, a pile of your scraps will be fine."
>You nod.
"That's more or less what I expected, but it's good to know. Thanks, Time Turner."
>He smiles and shakes your hand.
>"You're welcome. We stallions have to stick together, right?"
>You nod back.
"Right. See you around."
>As you leave, you see him get out a needle and thread, his spinner dragging the end of his scarf up to the counter.
>You wonder if you'll develop a hobby like that, if you live here long enough.
>You shrug, and head towards the market.
--
>You ended up getting a large bag of bags for about one third of your supply of shirt scraps
>When you get back to Pinkie's room, you Pull the rest, hackles still rising as the bag gets Snipped
>You Pull two bags from the large bag and split the shirt scraps between the two
>You feel a little more secure, now that your supply won't disappear if one bag gets Snipped somehow
>You take one and set out once more to explore the city
>It's almost labyrinthine, often with the second and/or third stories of the housing buildings being in a markedly different style and even square footage than the story below
>As you wander the streets, you are surprised at the great abundance of restaurants
>Though, perhaps you shouldn't be surprised
>It's not like cooking is all that rare of a skill, and they have had plenty of time to hone it.
>You get more than a few cat calls in your wanderings
>It's honestly quite flattering, for all that they are coming from small horses
>It's still female voices, and that's all your brain needs to start pumping the good stuff
>You pass by city hall, a wide building with two silos, one behind each wing
>That strikes you as odd, silos should be around farms, not in the middle of downtown
>But maybe there's some need for large stockpiles in case of an emergency?
>You shake your head and move on
>Eventually, you make your way back to the boutique a good ten minutes before Rarity said she would be ready
>Coco wastes no time in escorting you up the stairs
>Rarity's workshop is split in two, a mansion's entrance replicated before you in white marble and silver accents
>The lady herself has changed into a black skirt that clings to her thighs and a navy short-sleeved blouse, unbuttoned a little to let her chest fluff breathe
>Her mane is pulled back into a long and high ponytail, one strand free to fall and curve down to her chin from the side
>She smirks as you adjust to her change in appearance
>"Good, attention to detail will be key to a more lucrative side of the business. More to the point, welcome back, Anonymous. Are you ready to begin your lessons?"
>You nod 
"Ready as I'll ever be."
>Rarity gestures to a nearby table with a platter of cookies and two plates and napkins set at opposite sides
>Coco pulls a chair out for you and you accept with a murmured thanks
>Rarity begins after you have settled
>"Before anything else, I am afraid I must ask you a rather indelicate question."
>She pauses, frowning 
>You nod encouragingly
"Ask away."
>Rarity continues,
>"One of the ways a stallion of low standing advances in society is by, shall I say, discreetly filling positions for mares of influence in return for favors. Are you interested in such a path?"
>You blink, turning the sentence over in your mind
"Sleeping my way to the top? Or not sleeping, since that's impossible or something, but... Yeah, not what I'm interested in."
>She smiles approvingly
>"Good. It is a quick path to prominence, but dreadfully precarious. I would like not to bring it up, but enough play the game of silk to color the view of any lower socialite."
>You nibble on a square of buttery shortbread, not entirely happy you'll be dealing with those suspicions, but it's not exactly surprising
>However, you have something else on your mind
"On my way here, I encountered a weird mare from a spooky tower. She wanted me to join a reflective collective or something."
>Rarity frowns
>"Please tell me you didn't follow her."
>You shake your head
"Nah, I could tell something was off. A lamp auditor came by and shone some Sundance on her and the tower. I get the feeling I'm going to have to deal with them later, and I would like to have some Sundance of my own to defend myself with. Is that going to be a problem with my courier work?"
>The mare chews her lip thoughtfully
>"Not precisely, if you are discreet about your lantern. Perhaps a locket, or a hollowed cane would keep it close, but not conspicuous. But I must warn you, that regular Sundance use is detrimental to your health."
>You frown
"It just feels like before I came here, when things were normal. How is that detrimental to my health?"
>She raises her eyebrows at you
>"I would have thought- well, you certainly aren't quite like other stallions. You are right, after a fashion, Sundance is a return to the Rule of Days. Age, hunger, exertion... if you want to live to your sixties looking like a twenty-year old, you ought to avoid Sundance as much as possible."
>You consider it
>Living longer while younger makes a lot of sense
>But...
"I think the spooky ponies taking an interest in me is more detrimental to my health."
>Rarity nods grimly
>"That's why I agree that you should get your own lantern. But you should also remember to be careful with using it. Exposing somepony else to Sundance outside of emergencies is not quite a crime, but you will lose friends fast if you do."
>As you dust the crumbs on your hands onto a napkin, Rarity continues
>"A word of warning, when you go to the mayoral offices. Do not try to investigate either silo without permission. No matter how it looks, there is always security that is, shall we say, killed their fair share of cats."
>You swallow
"Right, I'll steer clear."
>She nods
>"Just so."
>Rarity stands up and stretches, making noises that activate your neurons
>You discretely glance at the spinner spiders above to get your reaction under control
>She turns to you with a demure smile
>"Now that we have that unpleasant topic behind us, shall we get on with your etiquette lessons?"
>You straighten your back
"Yes, let's."
--
>Fortunately, posture is not a big deal.
>You get a pass as a biped, which is even more generous since you are obviously not a minotaur either.
>But then she walks you through the hierarchy of titles and their associated forms of address
>Most of the peerage is easy enough, you won't likely be dealing with the remaining Princess, and duchesses are "your grace".
>The problem you have is keeping track of courtesy titles and titles in their own right, especially for lower nobility
>Some are addressed as "Madame" despite mares of higher and lower rank being called "lady"
>And then there is what to call the kids of nobility
>First off, never call them kids, because goats don't have a great reputation
>Rarity pauses after your last frustrated guess 
>"I think this is enough for now. Tell me darling, do you have something to do to ease your mind?"
>You frown
"Like reading a book?"
>She wiggles a hoof
>"Not quite. As you have no doubt discovered, there is no sleeping in the eternal night. Yet our minds are not made for constant activity, it helps to take a few hours every once in a while to meditate, or simply stare at something without making plans or working on a problem."
>You tilt your head
"I can see the appeal. What do you do, if you don't mind me asking?"
>Rarity smiles and nods upward
>"My dear spinners make a fine distraction, endlessly shining and dancing."
>You shudder
>She looks at you in concern
>"Is something the matter?"
>You try to laugh, letting out a few dry chuckles
"Too many spiders for my taste."
>She blinks, then blushes
>"Oh, of course, I am ever so sorry for trying your sensibilities so, I should have remembered that stallions new to the night are not as inured to my little creations."
>With a wave of her hoof, the spinners steam out of the windows
>You breathe a sigh of relief
"Thanks, I appreciate it."
>Rarity smiles
>"If there is anything else I can do to help you get comfortable, do let me know."

>The two of you talk some more about meditation and calming rituals, and you try a few out
>You settle on stroking the silk inside of your suit jacket, the smooth texture doing something nice for your monkey brain
>Eventually, Rarity has to go back to work, and you decide to see a mayor about a lantern.
--
>You make your way up the steps to the city hall
>White-gray marble walls, oak doors, brass accents, it looks like any other government building.
>Inside, you find cork boards covering the walls of the entryway, notices, advertisements and trade requests pinned to them with tacks
>Sure enough, the election notice is given place of prominence and lamination
>You walk into the lobby where two desks are set side by side
>Behind the one on the left is a bored zebra stallion, flipping through the pages of a magazine
>Behind the desk on the right is a lean, gray diamond dog 
>He brightens up at your approach
>"Welcome to city hall, how can we help you?"
>You open your mouth to reply, but the zebra cuts you off
>"Be warned, one of us always tells the truth and the other always lies."
>The diamond dog growls
>"I do not! It's called tact, not that a striped ass like you would know anything about that!"
>The zebra scoffs
>"At least I'm not shamelessly sniffing under Corporal Carrot's tail like a randy dog!"
>You clear your throat loudly
"Which way to the pink mayor?"
>The zebra snorts and goes back to reading his magazine
>The diamond dog smiles smugly and gestures to the hall to your right
>"You'll find her at the end of this hall. Let me know if you need help with anything else."
>You give him a nod and a wave and walk away
>The walls of the hallway are intermittently decorated with oil paintings of landscapes, all set during sunrise
>Subtle
>But interesting, considering the furtiveness of ponies when they talk about the black company and sunrise.
>Ahead you find a number of open doors, ponies trotting from place to place, each noticeably wearing an apple wood lantern in a harness. 
>A yellow mare with a gray-streaked curly orange mane notices you and approaches
>She offers you her hoof
>"Corporal Carrot Top, nice to meet you."
>You shake her hoof
"I'm Anon, likewise. I'm here to see if I can get a lantern for personal protection."
>She gives you a sympathetic look
>"Oh, I'm sorry to hear you got tangled up in things. What was it?"
>You shrug
"A starry-eyed mare from the weird tower."
>Corporal Carrot shakes her head
>"Not as bad as some, but that is about as bad as it gets in town. Come on, I'll escort you to the mayor."
>You follow her down the hall, peeking into doorways as you pass
>You glimpse a room with a map, another full of filing cabinets
>Yet another looks like every employee break room you've ever been in, save for the occupants
>It's a mix of ponies, but just as you pass a mottled green and brown octopus floats out and over Carrot's head
>You shake your head
"I'll never get used to that."
>Carrot glances over her shoulder
>"What, Kicky? Yeah, I don't think I saw an ahtapot since before the night fell. Some folks say they're explorers that get twisted by the whorls of the deep drifts until they can't even recognize themselves, but folks say all sorts of things."
>You blink
"Uh, no, that was an octopus. Though the ones back home couldn't levitate. At least, I don't think they could."
>The mare looks at you with raised eyebrows
>"Huh, really? Where are you from?"
>You shrug
"A different world, maybe dimension. Didn't have magic though, that we knew about."
>Corporal Carrot nods in understanding
>"Oh, you probably drifted along the starlines. I guess that answers where ahtapot come from too, you might want to mention it to the University of Canterlot. I'm sure they would appreciate it."
>You raise your eyebrows at her
"You're taking this rather well."
>She gives you a wry smile
>"After a few years with the auditors, well, the drifts can still surprise you, but they have to try harder. I'm sure you can find anything you can think of out there, and plenty more that you would rather not. Somepony from another star is almost normal in comparison."
>You rub your face
"Huh. Sounds crazy."
>She nods 
>"Often is."
>With that, she knocks on a double door and slips inside, closing the door behind her
>You wait, listening to the faint murmuring of their conversation
>It's not that long of a wait, Carrot opens the door and ushers you inside
>You find yourself in a stately office, polished mahogany furniture almost buried under admittedly neatly stacked paper
>A tan mare with wavy bubblegum pink hair sits behind a desk and gives you a kindly smile
>"Please, have a seat."
>As you sit down, Corporal Carrot leaves, closing the door behind her
>You turn back as the mare continues
>"Carrot tells me you had an encounter with a starry-eyed mare, could you describe her for me?"
>You blink
"Sure, she was a light purple unicorn. Mane had a teal streak in it. Sorry I can't tell you more, I was kinda distracted at the time.
>The Pink Mayor nods
>"That's alright, dear, memory can be unreliable even in the best of times. I was just asking to see if they had captured somepony new, which it seems they haven't."
>You frown
"What's the deal with them, anyways? I know they feel... wrong, but..."
>She leans back in her chair
>"Just before the last sunset, a mare came to search the town library for knowledge. I'm still not sure what she found, but she hurried back to Canterlot to use the observatory there, just as night fell. Months later, the town library disappeared, leaving the observatory tower in its place. Nopony that entered ever left, though they did try to tempt their friends and family inside from the courtyard."
>You frown
"They can't leave the courtyard?"
>The Pink Mayor shrugs
>"They haven't, though I wouldn't trust them enough to say they can't if they want to. We're just lucky Sundance inconveniences them enough that lamp auditor patrols keep them inside their tower most of the time."
>You lean forward, resting your elbows on your knees
"That's actually what I wanted to talk to you about. I'd like to have a lantern so I can deal with them if they approach me."
>She nods
>"A sensible choice. I'll need you to do two things: Fall asleep in the Sundance silo, and complete a lantern safety course."
>You blink
"Uh, sure?"
>The mayor beams at you
>"Wonderful! Stallions usually balk at that. Whenever you are ready, have one of my auditors bring you there for your nap."
>She stands up and opens the door for you
>You pause before leaving the office
"Say, why are there two mayors anyhow?"
>The Pink Mayor winks at you
>"Trade secret."
>You give her a nonplussed look
>She shrugs
>"I'll tell you once you earn enough of my trust."
>You shake your head
"Fair enough."
>You exit the office to find Corporal Carrot waiting for you
>She gives you an earnest smile
>"How'd it go?"
>You shrug
"Alright. I'm supposed to take a nap in the silo?"
>She beams
>"Ah, won't that be nice. Almost makes me want to have a run in with the black company."
>You tilt your head as you follow her through the back door
"Why is that?"
>Corporal Carrot sighs longingly
>"There's a wakefulness that can only be achieved on the other side of a dream."
>You nod a little impatiently
"I can understand that, but what does that have to do with the black company?"
>She chuckles at your frustration
>"I'll stop teasing you, I promise. The black company can mess with your mind, give false memories, suppress true ones, make it feel like they are an old friend, all sorts of things. A good nap under the sun undoes it all."
>You raise your eyebrows
"No wonder people are so scared of them."
>Corporal Carrot shrugs
>"It's not so bad once you notice something's wrong."
>The two of you walk out into the rear courtyard where a silo rises high into the night sky
>Carrot takes out a key and unlocks the door
>As it opens, warm afternoon sunlight spills out
>You hesitate at the threshold, looking inside
>There are maybe ten bunk beds strewn about under a ceiling of rippling, incandescent gold
>You glance at Carrot out of the side of your eye
"This won't give me skin cancer, right?"
>She looks up at the accumulated Sundance
>"Uh, probably not? Never heard of that being a problem."
>You let out a long breath, then walk towards the nearest bunk
>You feel that same warmth, the slight tiredness that feels more real than a lot of what you have been through this last while
>Looking around, there are actually a couple mares around, snugly wrapped up in blankets with sleeping masks over their eyes
>You pull back the covers of the bunk, but you don't see a sleeping mask
>You find it under the pillow
>You take your shoes off and slip under the soft blanket, already starting to feel drowsy
>With the sleeping mask on, all you can feel is softness and warmth, and the faint snores of the other ponies
>You can see why Carrot misses this
>You settle in and wait for sleep to come
--
You still resent your dad naming you after a clownfish, but even if the joke did get old, it netted you a fair few friends. They are back on the boat, you wanted to scuba dive a little longer. The reefs near Australia are beautiful, full of all sorts of fish and crustaceans. Oh, look at that octopus, pretending to be coral. You coast towards it, barely kicking your legs. Finally you poke its rubbery flesh. Its eyes open wide and it flails its tentacles, one wrapping around your arm. Its skin flashes through a spectrum of colors, literally flashing with light. You yelp into your mask as everything goes dark except for you and the octopus that seems to have settled on blue. Reality ripples, and you find yourself in your usual outfit, standing in Ponyville.
--
>You lurch out of your bunk and rip the sleeping mask off of your face. 
"Toccy you rubbery bastard!"
--
>Talking with corporal Carrot, it turns out accidental interdimensional abduction isn't within their jurisdiction
>And, according to corporal Kicky, the ahtapot are just as stuck here as anyone else
>She spends most of her patrol fishing newcomers of her kind out of ponds and lakes before they drink too much water and lose all their memories
>Which... yeah, that's not great
>You are very glad you are not a fish
>Lantern safety training is pretty unexciting, a lot of "this is a tool, not a toy" and when it is or isn't appropriate to use it
>Mostly it's okay when drift monsters and the like show up, since it weakens them or outright banishes the starry-eyed
>Then you sign a registry and get an applewood clam pendant with a dollop of Sundance inside
>You wander back to Sugar Cube Corner without paying much attention to your surroundings
>You would have thought remembering how you got here would help, but you're back where you started
>You open the door and give Mrs. Cake a polite smile
>Up the stairs, and facing the wall of balloons, you growl in frustration
>You don't feel like dealing with that right now
>You sit down on the wooden floor and lean against the wall
>The silk lining of your jacket is smooth, almost slick, and slides pleasantly against your fingers
>You close your eyes and focus on the sensation, breathing slowly
>You're fine, you can figure this out
>Well, honestly, you aren't sure you can, but this Narnia type place probably has an exit clause somewhere or how
>That's how these things work, right?
>You feel something hard bump into your hand
>You look down and see Charlotte on your thigh, bumping her head into your hand again
>Then she looks up at you 
>You tilt your head, not sure what she wants
>Experimentally, you stroke her thorax
>She leans into your touch and taps her legs in a little happy dance, at least you assume it's a happy dance
>You start to pull back your hand, but Charlotte grabs your finger with two of her legs and gently tugs it towards her
>You can't help but smile a little and return to stroking the spider
>You wonder if this is something Rarity programmed in, if programming is even possible
>Being made of glass certainly removes some of the creep factor, but this little petting routine does make Charlotte seem friendlier, more like a pet
>Maybe you should ask Rarity the next time you see her
--
>"Oh no, that's just how all spiders are, darling. At least, when they aren't afraid of being squished."
>You have no words
>Rarity smirks slightly
>"Don't worry, Darling, most stallions are similarly squeamish about natural spiders. But enough about that, you have your first client!"
>You sit up straight
"That was quick."
>She shrugs
>"She's rather low on the social ladder, and she simply wants you to deliver a letter to her friend near the college district."
>You blink
"Is that far from where she lives? Is there no postal system?"
>Rarity shakes her head with a smile
>"It's not that it's far, but what she's paying for. To be quite frank, you are something of a spectacle in that suit, and there is value in flaunting that sort of ostentation."
>You raise your eyebrows then shrug
"So what is the pay?"
>She levitates over a small wooden case with black velvet lining
>On that velvet, there are three... green buttons?
>You give Rarity a questioning glance.
>She smiles
>"Don't look so disappointed, Darling. These are actually somewhat valuable."
>She sets the case down on the table
>"In the early years after the last sunset, a certain countess figured out the secret to Pulling. However, her hedonist heir was... incautious, and sold a great many of these imperial jade buttons for frivolous things. The countess reined her in in short order, but the damage was done. A few enterprising viscountesses went around and gathered up enough to Pull the buttons themselves."
>You tilt your head
"That's... interesting?"
>Rarity chuckles
>"What matters is, they are now a badge of favor from the peerage. They are rewards for special favors, but never for actual trades, or so the nobles pretend. Once you have a Pullable amount, you will be ready to make your debut in higher society."
>You raise your eyebrows
"Okay, now that does sound useful. Actually, in that case, isn't three buttons kind of a lot?"
>The mare nods
>"It certainly would be, if two of them were not my fee."
>You frown
"I can't imagine you haven't made your debut already, what's the point of taking something you can already Pull?"
>Rarity floats the case back to one of her work tables
>"It's a small courtesy from the baronetess to me, two pulls that I no longer have to do. Most of the value of this transaction is in the doing of it, for you most of all."
>You let out a wry chuckle
"Working for exposure, is it?"
>She nods
>"Just so. I'll sew the directions on your map."
>You rifle through your pouch a bit and hand it over
>A few seconds of thread later she floats over the map and a heavily embossed envelope
>You give her a salute and head out
>You glance at the name on the letter as you descend the stairs
>[Baronettess Scope]
>That means, right, you should call her Dame Scope
>Outside of the carousel, you glance at the map, then break into a run
>You weave your way through the foot traffic, not even seeing the individual ponies, just shapes and velocities to dodge around
>"Yeah colt! Chase that foal!"
>You absently wave your hand at the catcall, as bewildering as the content is
>As you get closer to your destination, you notice more buildings are recognizably apartment complexes
>Three story mansionettes with balconies and patios spaced evenly around the outside
>You get more than a few admiring glances as you lope on by
>Which you can sort of understand, a tailored suit is pretty fancy for what looks like student housing
>Closer to campus, you find the address on the envelope
>The building itself is all black, speckled marble with copper accent that remind you of a higher class hotel
>A stoic blue unicorn mare in a black vest stands by the door to the lobby
>She gives you a blank look as you approach
>"What is your business, sir?"
>You take the letter out of your pocket and show it to her
"Courier to deliver a missive to Dame Scope."
>Her horn flashes a deep green, then she nods
>"Proceed up the stairs to suite 208."
>The door beside her opens
>You give her a quick smile and a nod and walk on by
>As you pass through the opulent lobby and up the stairs, you wonder what kind of nobility live in glorified apartments
>Though admittedly, a baronettess is a minor noble at best
>You knock on the door labeled 208, and a pale gray stallion in black...is that pants for all four legs? 
>The...waist? Goes lengthwise along his torso, around his chest and pulled tight halfway up his flank
>The stallion ignores you moment of distraction and gestures for you to follow him
>He leads you to a small room, a chandelier almost filling the entire ceiling with elaborate glasswork and a soft glow that seems to emanate from every facet
>The butler brings you to a table set for two, a vase of flowers in the middle, two slices of toast on each plate
>A portly lime mare with long wavy white hair approaches you with a wide smile
>"Why hello, colt, what brings you to me?"
>You bow to her
"Dame Scope, a pleasure to meet you. I'm Anonymous, with a message from Dame Tumbler."
>You hand her letter  
>She raises an eyebrow and opens it with a flick of her magic
>She barely glances at the contents then snorts
>"Ah, I'll have to do something for her, such a good friend. But please, sit down, have some toast and flowers."
>You give a shallow bow and sit down 
>This is the part you are half-dreading, half-looking forward to
>It's a chance to start making Dame Scope into a contact in your social network, but aren't exactly a social butterfly yourself
>Luckily, mares are expected to take the lead in these matters
>You nibble on a piece of toast as Scope settles across from you
>She gestures upward
>"What do you think?"
>You glance up at the chandelier again
"It's...quite complicated. The glow has a subtle effect.'
>The mare laughs heartily
>"No need to be so guarded, my dear colt. I know it's a gaudy show piece. It's for demonstrating all our techniques, at least those we sell."
>She points towards a concave wobble held in brass wire
>"For instance, if you dealt in illusions, you would notice that lens, and we could talk about custom work."
>You raise your eyebrows
"Forgive me, but you don't look like a glassblower, or a lens grinder."
>Scope lets out a belly laugh
>"Well spotted, colt. No, I focus on the big picture. Managing all my many relatives and contacts who do most of the work, that sort of thing. Though I do dabble in jewelry and frames. I don't suppose you need or want glasses?"
>You shake your head with a smile
"No, I'm good without. I take it the wirework up there is yours?"
>She nods proudly
>"Mine and a few artisans I patronize. Speaking of..."
>She clears her throat
>"Is ol' Tumbler your patron, then?"
>You shake your head
"Rarity is, actually."
>The mare nods and sighs
>"Ah, I should have guessed. I might have been able to tempt you into my employ if it was Tumbler, but I know better than to get between a colt and his outfitter."
>You smile politely, letting the mistaken assumption stand
>Scope leans back in her chair
>"So, what drove you to choose courier work? Stallion like you, if you're any good in the kitchen, there are plenty of mares that would trade for a warm meal."
>That's how it is? 
>Maybe you could make mac and cheese or something on the side...
"Well, I like running and not getting tired, and this way I get to meet all sorts of folks."
>She chuckles
>"Ah, fresh in the night and already following your instincts. Tell me, would you like-"
>The mare pauses, and you brace yourself for the question
>Rarity likely knows who she's dealing with, but you aren't sure how Scope would take being declined
>You know how nobility was back on Earth
>Scope tilts her head
>"Actually, I have a niece I haven't heard from in over a year. Poor filly probably hasn't talked to a colt for longer, could I ask you to check on her? Draw her out of her shell a bit? I'll give you another jade button for the detour."
>You raise your eyebrows
"I...sure, I can do that."
>She grins and teleports a jade button to the table in front of you
>"Great, the last time I sent her an escort and she, well, didn't talk to me for a year. But I'm sure you'll do fine."
>You give her a wry smile
"I should be fine, I'm not in the silk trade, as it happens."
>Scope blinks at you then laughs sheepishly
>"All the better! Ahem, yes, thank you for accepting my request, here, let me write down her address, it's not too far..."
>You are out the door in short order after that
>She even stuffs some sunflowers into your pouch "for the road", not letting you get a word of your protest in edgewise
>The address on the scrap of envelope leads you to a building that has seen better days
>The walls are cement that has been scorched, patched over, and cratered
>The windows are translucent, and when you walk up to touch one, you find it is made of wax paper
>The door is untreated plywood, attached to the frame by some flexible green gel lining
>It looks like a bunker that has seen many years of magical warfare
>The sign out front declares it to be the Department of Applied Thaumaturgy
>The lobby is deserted, but in marginally better condition
>Room 104, your destination, has a plaque on the door reading, "Moon Runes. Please secure all Sundance sources prior to entering."
>Moon...runes?
>No, it can't be, can it?
>You make sure your locket is still clasped, then open the door
>There are two long tables against opposite walls, each with a large rectangular fish tank of fog at the ends. 
>At the end of the room is a wall of bookcases filled with more scrolls than books
>A gray-green unicorn mare with a short cropped orange hair looks up from one of the far fish tanks
>"Uh, hi? Can I help you?"
>You smile politely
"Lens Befriends, I presume? Your aunt sent me to check on you."
>Lens scowls
>"Another escort? I told her last time, I don't need this kind of distraction from my research! Especially from some used up, juice-stained, two-Pull whore! Tell her that!"
>You raise your eyebrows
"For the record, I'm not an escort."
>The color drains from her face
>"Buck."
>She turns to stare at the swirls of fog in the fish tank and coughs
>"Sorry about that, I just... tell her I'm fine."
>You let out an awkward chuckle
"Will do. Say, I'm new to the night, what are moon runes?"
>Lens Befriends looks up at you in surprise
>"You are?"
>You nod
"Only been here about a week, haven't even gotten close to the drifts yet."
>She nods
>"Understandable, it's not something most ponies have to worry about. Moon runes are symbols that show up in the drifts, especially around Canterlot. They warp reality around them, according to their particular properties. Here, take a look."
>She scoots to make room for you by the fish tank
>You walk over and look down 
>Objectively, you know that you are looking at the end of the tank, but you see the symbol drawn in black sand, a rectangle with a like struck through the middle, and it's dead center of a perfect circle of fog and glass walls
>You look away and once again the tank is rectangular
>Lens grins at you
>"Trippy, right?"
>You frown
"Yeah...that was a moon rune? Can I see another?"
>Lens' grin grows wider
>"Sure thing! Here, this one is my favorite."
>She turns and stands beside the tank on the other table, which you now notice has fog with a slight orange glow
>You look inside and see another symbol on black sand, a long curved line to the left, a branch halfway down, and a dash on either side pointing diagonally towards the middle
>It's easy to see, because a candleflame with no candle is burning directly above it
>Lens says, "This is one of the ones we know. It's called 'hee'."
>As she pronounces the symbol, the flame flares up to nearly twice its size, then dwindles back down
>Your heart sinks
"I think I know the other one."
>The gray-green mare stares at you
>"You do? How?"
>You answer absently as you step towards the other tank
"It's from a language I dabbled in, back home. This one is 'naka'."
>Abruptly, the tank rings like struck glass and becomes perfectly circular, the grain of the wood of the table top groaning and warping around it. 
>Lens looks from you, to the tank, and back to you again
>"No way! You have to tell me everything! How much did you learn? Do you have any dictionaries? Do you want gems, clothes, delicacies?"
>You hold up your hands to ward off the eager mare
>"I don't know much, it's been a while since I actually studied. I don't have any dictionaries on me, the best I can do is give you the syllables they generally use."
>Lens Befriends eyes you hungrily in a way mostly dissimilar to the mares you pass on the street
>At least you'll escape with your virtue intact...
--
>You're glad your hand doesn't get sore after all you've written down
>Lens looks up from the scroll you made, matching the syllables to hiragana and katakana they already assembled, as well as the few kanji you remember
>"Thank you, you have no idea how many years of research this saves! Is there anything you want? The department's stores and budget are rather generous, not to mention training from experts in a variety of magical fields."
>You think about it
"I've been told I have thaumic foci in my fingers, but I don't know what I can even do with that."
>Lens frowns
>"Fingers? Are you sure the mare wasn't flirting with you?"
>You smirk
"He was a stallion, and he used a scanner of some sort."
>She blushes
>"Oh, uh, right. Maybe something similar to earth ponies? I'll have to ask around, that is weird."
>You nod
"I'd appreciate it."
>Lens nods back
>An awkward silence descends
>You clear your throat
"Well, I better get going, gotta tell your aunt that you're fine and all."
>The mare bites her lip
>"Um speaking of, did she ask you about silk?"
>You raise an eyebrow
"Uh, no."
>Lens visibly gathers her courage, her tuft puffing up slightly
>"W-would you like to see my collection? There are two bolts that would, um, complement you well."
>You blink, recognizing the code phrase
>You smile apologetically
"I must decline, I don't have an interest in the silk trade."
>She deflates 
>"Oh, right. You said. Sorry, I just..."
>You wave your hand dismissively
"Don't worry about it. It's a common question. Oh, and when you do find someone to teach me, send a message to Rarity, she's my patron."
>Lens blinks
>"Ah, will do. Thanks again for coming and helping with my research."
"No problem. See you around, Lens."
>It's only as you jog down the streets that you let it sink in
>Someone is a weeb, and you have no idea how high up they are, to make it actually reality warping
>You honestly have no idea how to handle this information, so you put it out of your mind and focus on running
>...
>Maybe you should try Naruto running, when there are no witnesses
--