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Princess Diaries (MLP/Dresden Files AU)

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MMKII said:
(though, it was sort of unlikely that they were all entirely coincidence)
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If Dresden Files has taught me anything, it's that this is definitely a coincidence because several weird events all happening in quick succession near the start of the story are always a coincidence, at least going by the protagonist's PoV and logic. On the other hand, if Dresden files has taught me anything it's that this is not a coincidence because nothing is ever as simple as it seems and everything turns out to be interconnected.

Also, Unsong taught me that this is not a coincidence because nothing is ever not a whale pun.

Sorry, I know this joke is underwhaleming.

MMKII said:
She was beautiful.

I don't mean she was pretty, or attractive, or that she had floof in all the right places. No, this mare was beautiful, like she had a team of professionals spend hours doing her mane (which was also a dark shade of lavender) and her makeup every morning.

"Hello there," the mare said. She had a white coat, a very blank eggshell white, white in the "Oreo filling" sense. It had an almost visible sheen to it. Her eyes were the exact color of one of those rare blue diamonds that you only see in a museum or in a royal treasury. "Are you heading to Sweet Apple Acres, by any chance?"
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Nyx Edelstein said:
I'm sorry but this is just unrealistic. You didn't spend 3 paragraphs describing this female's alluring, sensual physical characteristics in great detail. As such, this fic can no longer be considered a proper crossover
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Objection recinded.
 
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Job One 1.9
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    • Job One 1.9​



    So, Ms. Twilight Sparkle, tell me: what's interesting about you?

    I struggled to think of a response. We rode in silence for a while longer.

    "Um," I said. "Well, I just moved here, actually. I'm the new head librarian for the Golden Oak…"

    Rarity shook her head and made a sort of so-so gesture with her hoof.

    "Yes, I know that." She looked at me with those eyes again. They were twinkling. "But is that really something interesting about you? Do you find the work you do there interesting?"

    I fidgeted.

    "Well," I said, "I don't… I don't really see why it wouldn't be? Books are pretty useful, they can tell you all sorts of things that you'd never know otherwise, facts about places you wouldn't be able to go, information that someone else has discovered, etcetera. If you find a good story, you can sink your teeth into it and really experience it, and that can be a really valuable experience."

    Rarity seemed to consider those words.

    "Hmm," she said. "In a more general sense then, it's mostly about the acquisition of knowledge and experience? I can agree that that's interesting at times, but it's hardly something interesting about you."

    She waved at the carriage as if to demonstrate a point.

    "I suppose I shall lead by example," Rarity said with a slight huff. "Here is something interesting about me: I am the pony who is ultimately in charge of all of the organized crime that goes on from the borders of Appleloosa to the suburbs of Manehattan."

    "I— what?"

    Rarity just looked back at me expectantly, as if… as if she had asked me to pass her a salt shaker at dinner, or made a passing comment about the weather.

    I just sort of stared.

    This is a very strange and uncomfortable social interaction, my nerves told me. They told me this by making my heart rate shoot up into the sky.

    Yeah, we probably shouldn't have gotten in this carriage, in retrospect, my brain told me. At the moment I couldn't help but agree.

    Okay, but can you give me something useful to say in this conversation, brain? Can you calm down, nerves?

    I didn't get a response.

    Figures.

    "Let me repeat myself a bit more clearly," Rarity said, with a bit of a smile. "My organization is in charge of various illicit activities such as smuggling, racketeering, drug distribution, and prostitution. That's not an exhaustive list, of course. But that is an interesting fact to know about Rarity, this pony whose carriage you are currently riding in. Wouldn't you say?"

    This pony is having me on, right?

    "Haha," I said with a forced smile. "Now can you pull the other one?"

    Rarity's smile vanished. "I'm being completely serious."

    Huh?

    I bit my lip to try to dispel some of the sleep deprivation induced haze that was currently clouding my thoughts. It worked somewhat.

    "Okay," I said. Some amount of exhaustion and frustration crept into my voice despite my best efforts. "Look… yes, that's an interesting ...fact... but, like… why are you telling me any of that? Do you just… pick ponies off of the road and start launching into explanations of your criminal organization? Suppose I disagree with an organization that does any of the things you just said, on principle. How do you benefit from giving me that information in such a blunt fashion? You could just be some rich pony spinning me a story for kicks. Are you just some sort of weird pathological liar?"

    I left out the "And what is wrong with you???" but I had a feeling that it got communicated anyway.

    Rarity smirked a bit.

    "Assuming I'm telling you the truth," Rarity said. "Well, it's not exactly some sort of secret, I'm fairly certain every pony in Ponyville knows. The politicians in the state know, as do local law enforcement. I'm just doing you a courtesy here by letting you into the loop— you do value gaining some new knowledge, don't you?"

    Something about the way that was phrased or the matter-of-fact tone in which it was said really ticked me off. It might've been the flippant way it was stated, or the familiarity with how she said it — yeah, that was it actually. She acted like she knew me already.

    But she didn't know me.

    "To answer another question of yours, suppose you do disagree with my professional life as a matter of principle. What is a little pony like you possibly going to do about it?"

    My temper flared.

    When I replied, my voice sounded much more calm than I actually felt inside. "Well, I could pick you, your dogs, and your whole carriage up and toss you halfway back to town."

    I was being hyperbolic— the best I'd be able to manage is to knock the carriage into a tumble, and in my current state that would definitely leave me gasping and wishing for a cold glass of lemonade. It would be a while yet until I could be casually tossing things that large around. My mentor, Ebegeezer McColt, could pull off such feats of evocation with relative ease, but he's been around the block for a couple hundred years. Magically speaking, I was definitely more of a generalist at the moment. That had some drawbacks— I couldn't be throwing out lightning bolts and tossing giant boulders around willy-nilly, or slapping up ultra-impenetrable defensive wards at the drop of a hat— but it definitely had some advantages. I was pretty decent at everything.

    The diamond dogs across the carriage seemed to actually register my statement as the threat that it was intended to be (maybe they picked up on my body language or something, I don't know) instead of parsing it as some insane claim— or maybe they were just reacting to my intent, yeah, that made more sense. They both growled threateningly at me, and I reminded myself that I didn't really want to start a fight in close quarters with these two behemoths around.

    Rarity stilled, eyes darting to her bodyguards (minions? flunkies? lackeys?) before looking back at me. She seemed to consider her next words just a bit more carefully.

    "I see," she said, after some thought. "And you would actually do that? In this purely hypothetical scenario, of course."

    Probably not.

    "At this rate? I might," I said, a bit testily. "Or I might not. In this purely hypothetical scenario, of course."

    "Quite," Rarity said. "Well, I'm happy to inform you that I was, in fact, lying to you just to have some fun at my own expense. It's an unfortunate vice of mine that I indulge now and then. My apologies."

    Oh, of course. That makes much more sense.

    She's just a complete bitch.

    "Alright, so you really are just — "

    "I only do white-collar crime. Tax evasion, money laundering, that sort of thing. I look down on the more unsavoury aspects of the criminal underworld quite heavily.

    "Now, the fascinating subject that I actually wanted to speak to you about: I've heard rumors on the grapevine that you claim to be a 'wizard', or at least that's what the signage on your front door is telling everypony. I find that claim incredibly interesting. I also find the specifics of your little household pet to be quite intriguing, since it doesn't appear to be any animal that I'm aware of. But to sidestep an awkward conversational segue, I'll skip to requesting a breakdown of your rates for various… let's say 'consultations', for now."

    She leveled a measuring look at me, as if I was a piece of fruit at the market that she was sizing up and deciding whether or not it was pretty enough to buy.

    "My organization has a sizable benefits package, and I can provide you access to a large variety of resources, should you choose to sign on for the little odd favor here and there."

    Bitch, I might be tired, but I know bait when I see it. I gave her a side glance and prepared myself to begin deploying the snark.

    "So, you're watching my home, or something?"

    "Well, naturally. You're new in town, and there are enough quirky little details about your appearance here that you've caught my attention. I make it my business to follow up on things that catch my attention, sooner or later. It's fortunate that we picked you up on the road, really. Saved me quite a lot of effort arranging a meeting."

    "Uh huh." I tapped my hoof against my chin. "So… do you go through my trash too?"

    Rarity blinked.

    "I wouldn't figure you to be the type. I can leave some fancier food in the compost bin if the current selection is a little lackluster. You do look like you could use a few more pounds."

    It was a cheap shot. Not my best, but sometimes the cheap shot is the one that gets underneath a pony's coat.

    Rarity huffed indignantly at that. She actually looked offended for a moment, before letting out another laugh. It sounded very practiced and very-polished, like it was tailor-made to fit some sort of high-society ball.

    It got on my nerves.

    "You aren't very polite, are you Twilight?" Rarity said. "Well, I can see that I've been overstepping my conversational bounds a bit—my sincere apologies for that. Now that I think on it, you do appear to be quite tired, and I wouldn't want to be inconsiderate in light of that. Here, let's enjoy some refreshments for the remainder of the ride. Would you like some wine? Something to snack on?"

    I felt my eyes narrow down to slits. My mind went through about a thousand retorts before I slammed my mouth shut. I decided to wait for the carriage to stop, and to not say anything further. I didn't touch any food or drink. My stomach grumbled slightly in protest, but I decided that it didn't get a say in the matter.

    Luckily the rest of the trip only lasted a couple minutes, because there was a solid chance that the next words out of my mouth would've been a spell to give this pony the wedgie of the century with her overpriced designed clothes.




    Hope the weekends been good to everypony.
     
  • Threadmarks
    • Wow Rarity really pushed Twilight buttons. That was quite dangerous, even if this Twilight is less powerful that the Canon one, is not like magic is exactly unknown, so Rarity can't be as ignorant as Marcone was.
     
    Do it, Twilight!

    Show her the power of a Wizard of the Sun!

    Channel your long lost cousin, Harry and burn the carriage!
     
    Job One 1.10
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    • Job One 1.10​



    I stepped out of the carriage.

    The vehicle was stopped at the main house of Sweet Apple Acres. The house was a large ranch style house that looked like it had enough to fit a large family and about half of their extended family. There was a big red stallion on the porch that was eyeing us with some amount of apprehension. The stallion had a close cropped mane and tail, and he was wearing a work collar around his neck. His muscles had muscles.

    "Good morning, Big Mac," Rarity said politely. "We're here to see Applejack, is she around?"

    The stallion, Big Mac presumably, nodded at us, but didn't make any move to invite us in. Rarity made some sort of motion at the minions that were undoubtedly glowering behind us and I heard a round of thumps and bangs as they re-entered the carriage.

    "It's nice to see you outside of the tavern," Rarity continued. Plainly, as if she didn't just absentmindedly order two massive brutes around with a twitch of her hoof. "I'd like to talk to Applejack, if that's possible. I know that she's probably not going to want to see me, but I'd like to talk to her all the same."

    Big Mac squinted at the two of us for a moment.

    "Ayup," he finally said. He beckoned us over and entered the building through the large open doorway. Rarity began following him inside, and I was a step or two behind. I could feel the house's threshold part around me as I walked into the property. It was almost tangible, like walking through a set of heavy stage curtains. That wasn't something I saw everyday. This was an old home, and this family had lived in it for many generations.

    We walked down a main hallway, passing a few closed doors and the occasional open room on the way. Eventually we were brought to an incredibly cramped kitchen. There was a large old fashioned oven at the far end of the room, complete with a stovetop and a set of recently used pots and pans cluttered on top. The fridge jutted out near the doorway we were entering, and the massive Big Mac had to squeeze somewhat to get through. There were stacks of various culinary odds and ends piled all around the kitchen counters, and a pile of dishes soaking in the sink. The room smelled of fried eggs and the faint scent of apple pie. In the middle of the kitchen was a small wooden table covered in a checkered red and white tablecloth. It looked large enough to seat four comfortably (maybe three, if one of those ponies was as large as Big Mac) and had an array of rickety wooden chairs circling it.

    Applejack was flomped down in one of the chairs, bent over with her forehead resting on the table. The table was bare save for a newspaper and a crumb-covered plate. Big Mac cleared his throat pointedly and Applejack looked up. She noticed Rarity and pursed her lips.

    "What do you want, Rarity?" Applejack said hotly. "If you've read the paper this mornin', which I bet dollars to doughnuts that ya have, then you'd know that I'm not havin' a great start to my day."

    Big Mac turned around and left the way we came. Rarity stepped up to the table, her mouth opening as if she was about to speak, but then she stopped short and her mouth closed.

    "Hello," I said. "Twilight Sparkle, we met yesterday at Fluttershy's, um…"

    Wow, talking to ponies about problems they were having was awkward when you knew them. I barely even knew these people. Where in the world did I start?

    "I came here to talk to you about that pony we met, since you seemed to know her. I'm not sure this is really the time for that— you said you were having some major problems, y'know, but if those are ones that I could help with I'd gladly…"

    I trailed off. Applejack's annoyed gaze turned from Rarity to me. She looked back and forth between us, frowning. Finally she turned back to me.

    "You some sort of lackey of hers?" she asked me. "I got no patience for games today, so answer me plainly."

    Lackey!?

    I made a face. "Please. Why would I want to work with this pony? She just spent an entire carriage ride playing some sort of mind game with me. No thanks."

    Applejack nodded at that, but Rarity rolled her eyes at my response. Applejack shook her head and turned to glare at Rarity.

    "None of that now, ya hear me? You're a guest in my house and you won't be actin' impolite to folks underneath my roof, if you don't want to get shown the door."

    Rarity's laissez-faire demeanor wilted ever-so-slightly at that. "Quite."

    Applejack stuck a hoof out at me. "And that goes fer you as well, though I reckon she probably did start in on you on the ride here."

    I nodded.

    It's not like I was the rude one, anyway.

    "Anyways," Applejack said. She held up the newspaper. "More cases of food poisoning been goin' around, at a lot of places linked to the farm, and it's not just pets and animals this time. Some of 'em were bad enough to get some ponies hospitalized. Paper says it might be some bug goin' around, or some chemicals in the food, yadda yadda, but they got our name here down in the speculation, clear as day."

    Rarity raised a hoof. Applejack looked at her sourly, before nodding.

    "That is precisely why I'm here," Rarity said. "I was hoping to help you sort that out. Simply put, I suspect foul play on the part of some of your competitors."

    Applejack raised an eyebrow. "Go on."

    "Competitors?" I said. "Plural? Are there a lot of large farms around here?"

    "Two others," Applejack replied with a wave of her hoof.

    "There's Cabbage Patch Farms over on the south side of Ponyville," Rarity explained. "They produce roughly a third of the local food that Ponyville consumes. They mostly deal in vegetables. Second, we have Ruby Red Ranch, which is located several miles out of town, and owned and operated by a corporate entity known as the Wokefoal Corporation, who are in turn a shell company for — "

    "Yeah, yeah," Applejack said. "I don't need to hear their life stories. What about them has got yer interest?"

    "They've both been hiring more employees the last couple months. Quite a large amount."

    Applejack gave a weary sigh. "Okay, let's suppose that has somethin' to do with the price of hay at the market— and it don't, because the Cabbage Patch folk've been talkin' about gettin' new help since I was a little filly, and those Wokefoal schmucks churn through workers like Big Mac churns a load of butter. What else ya got?"

    "I know a pony who knows a pony at the tax department in city hall," Rarity said matter-of-factly, "and suffice to say that the individuals at Cabbage Patch are sorely in need of a financial planner. On the other hoof, the financial strategy of Ruby Red Ranch's parent organization seems to indicate that they're already trying to undercut everypony else. There's been a suspicious amount of rumors regarding mistreatment at all of their companies in addition to that."

    "Alright," Applejack said. "So?"

    I wasn't really following. I badly needed a nap. Ugh.

    "So," Rarity said. "Where there's smoke, there's undoubtedly fire of some sort. Both groups seem like they're positioning themselves to run everypony else out of business— and believe me when I say I know exactly what that looks like."

    "Gosh dangit, Rarity," Applejack quietly swore. She laughed, but her heart didn't seem to be in it. "You know that farmers don't do this criminal chessmaster thing? These people put plants in the ground for a living."

    Alright, so that's confirmation that Rarity is actually some sort of weird crime boss. That's some information that actually meant something.

    I was tuning some of this conversation out, because to me it was as obvious as a ninth-grade calculus problem. I knew that one of these organizations was associated with a vampony— a vampony sorceress, no less— which meant that "Wokefoal" was probably just a mask for "Evil Vampire Business Incorporated", so if there was any funny business going on, it was probably them.

    Sock'em's Razor: the simplest explanation is often the correct one.

    But it's not like I could outright explain any of that to Rarity and Applejack. If somepony starts going on about vamponies and black magic and wizards and so on, the best case scenario is that I'll get laughed out of the room. I suppose I could try to use some magic in front of them as supporting evidence, but my tired brain was telling me that wasn't the best option to open up with.

    Plus, I was the new pony in town. It's a thin chain of logic from "wizard moves to town" to "horrible things soon start happening" to "this is somehow Twilight's fault". It wasn't guaranteed that they would see things that way, but I wasn't confident.

    "Okay, I don't mean to interrupt," I said, trying to steer the conversation a bit. "So, there was a very weird social interaction yesterday at Fluttershy's with this Wokefoal corporate pony, and I wanted to ask you, Applejack, what was up with that, since you seem like a straight shooter and she gave me some bad vibes."

    That seemed to get their attention.

    "Plus," I continued on, "I have a pet beetle over at Fluttershy's that's being treated for whatever this bug going around is. I'm sort of invested in fixing this situation as well— and from what the both of you are saying, it seems like there's something to get to the bottom of. Would you mind helping me do that? It might help if I inform you that I am, in fact, a licensed private investigator."

    That last statement was factually true, in the same sense that the statement "I have a bachelor's degree in library science" was true. I had a very real diploma from a very real university saying so. Similarly, I had a private investigator's license.

    When applying for the job in Ponyville, I neglected to mention that I had gotten the degree through Wizard Connections, and that it was in part a fictional credential designed to explain what I was doing with most of my adult life while I was learning magic. Only in part, since I had taken a few classes on the subject.

    Similarly, I neglected to mention that I received my PI license after completing a correspondence course.

    It just didn't seem that important of a detail at the time, you know?
     
  • Threadmarks
    • Being Twilight Sparkle she did more that the "correspondence course." and take a few classes, she studied so much she is overqualified.

    So this is an example of Twilight putting herself down.

    Also being Twillight Sparkle she could get a university degree on something with how much she has read. Most likely history or ancient languages.
     
    This is one of the key areas where this diverges from the usual Dresden plot: Twilight is a genius polymath. Sure, her credentials were gotten from slightly dubious sources, but she has all of the knowledge to back them up. Fieldcraft for PI work maybe not so much?
     
    Updoots pushed back to tomorrow. Pic related.

     
    GBscientist said:
    This is one of the key areas where this diverges from the usual Dresden plot: Twilight is a genius polymath. Sure, her credentials were gotten from slightly dubious sources, but she has all of the knowledge to back them up. Fieldcraft for PI work maybe not so much?
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...

    She lacks practical experience but she has all the books knowledge, actually took more classes that needed and probably has a few someones she could consult if she wasn't in a hurry.
     
    Job One 1.11
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    • Job One 1.11​


    Applejack and Rarity seemed to take my statements in stride. Rarity raised her eyebrows and gave me a look.

    "Well," Rarity said, "that's certainly intriguing." She raised her hoof. "Do go on then, dear detective."

    Rarity put a strange emphasis on the word detective, as if she was amused, or maybe just surprised. I cringed mentally at the appellation. Hopefully she wouldn't keep calling me that constantly, or something.

    (It was also technically incorrect. A detective was generally employed by a law enforcement agency of some kind. A private investigator is merely licensed to investigate things as an independent contractor (or as part of an agency).)

    "Well," I said. "I'm new in town, right? But I figure that Applejack seems pretty convinced that the smaller farm— the privately owned one— is probably not at fault here? Like, Applejack, you don't think they're trying to actively sabotage Sweet Apple Acres or anything, right?"

    "If they were," Applejack said, "It'd sure be news to me. Those folk tend to keep to themselves, sure, but they're pleasant enough. Can't fault a pony for enjoying their privacy."

    "Alright, then," I said. "I figure your instincts are better than mine here, and that's that."

    Rarity squinted at me for an instant. It didn't last long, but it was definitely noticeable. I might've been a bit too obvious with how I was biasing the conclusion there.

    "It appears," Rarity said,"that the two of you are in agreement that this family is probably not at fault?"

    "Yep."

    "Yeah." I nodded at Rarity's question. "I don't really think that makes sense. Sure, there's a motive there, but I doubt that they have the resources? These other ponies sound very… uh, evil, for lack of a better phrase."

    I was maybe laying it on a little thick, but it's not like I could break out the monster manual and give them a three hour lecture on supernatural creatures. It would have to do.

    "Yeah," Applejack muttered darkly. "Those Wokefoal fellas are real pieces of work. They've been goin' around Ponyville the last couple months tryin' to buy out small food businesses and family owned farms. That Nectarine gal has been here at Sweet Apple Acres near a dozen times now, try'n to convince me and Granny Smith to sell the place."

    Rarity considered that. "That seems very persistent. Unusually so."

    "Ayup," Applejack said. "Last offer came close to about fifteen million. We told 'em to get lost, but I'm sure she'll be back with more charts and higher numbers and some extra dollar signs soon enough." Applejack sighed and slumped back into her chair. "Those ponies just don't get it, the farms been in the family for generations. We just ain't for sale, doesn't matter how much cash they try to pile on."

    Fifteen MILLION??

    I started running some numbers in my head. Supermarkets and farms were decently profitable, but they weren't that profitable. Not if you were undercutting your competitors at such a ridiculous percentage. You still had to pay for transport of goods — a squad of earth ponies to pull a large cart or food to feed a pack animal weren't cheap by any means— and even if you were mystically good at figuring out appropriate amounts of inventory to order at exactly the right time, it would be inevitable that a lot of that would be wasted. The economics just didn't work out at scale for that sort of strategy to work.

    Did I mention I do my own taxes too?

    "That sounds a bit fishy," I said. Applejack quirked an eyebrow at me, and I could see the gears spinning in Rarity's head— she was probably coming to the same conclusions I was.

    "I don't really know," Applejack said. "The land might fetch a pretty penny all on its lonesome, and the existin' infrastructure we got here comes out to a fair dollar. They're offerin' a fair bit more than what I think it would go fer, but it doesn't seem strange if they just want to buy us out and be done with it, right? Am I missing something?"

    I nodded.

    "The margins for a business that operates like that — specifically deliberately undercutting everypony else by such a ridiculous degree— would be so thin that you could fit them in between the wall and the wallpaper," I explained. "With some room to spare. Buying your farm for millions of dollars? I don't see how they'd make money on that sort of investment, no offense. Not anytime soon."

    Rarity chimed in. "It's a bit ridiculous, yes."

    "Well, why on earth are they tryin'?" Applejack replied. She put her hooves up to her eyes and shook her head. "I'm plum tired of dealin' with all this! I just want to run my dang farm!"

    We sat for a while without speaking, the silence broken only by the distant sounds of farm work and noises from the barn animals. I decided to wait for somepony else to pipe up first, since I was the least familiar with everypony here, and it seemed like Applejack was having a moment.

    "It would seem that — given Twilight's excellent observations," Rarity continued, nodding politely to me. "That it must not be about the money."

    "Okay then," Applejack took her hooves from her face. "You pairs of smartyhooves explain to me, what's this business all about? Doesn't make sense to me, that's fer sure."

    "I can think of one explanation," Rarity said.

    "Go on then."

    "Territory," Rarity stated. "There's likely some sort of criminal aspect to this."

    Applejack froze for a bit, mouth slightly ajar, before her eyes narrowed and she slammed a hoof on the table.

    I don't know what the particulars of her relationship with Rarity were, but it seemed like the two had a pretty rocky friendship at the moment. I had the distinct feeling that Rarity had just brushed up against a major sore spot.

    "Look here, Rarity, I've told you time in and time out: I don't want nothin' to do with any sort of shady business that you're mucked up in."

    "Applejack, believe me: it isn't anything I'm involved in. Let's just calm down — "

    "No, you calm down!" Applejack yelled. "I'm mad for plenty a good reason. Farm's gonna get all sorts of trouble from the animals at Fluttershy's getting sick, just this mornin' we been getting a few calls today about ponies coming down with a nasty stomach bug and having to go to the hospital, and now you're telling me that that could all be some sort of criminal funny business? We got a livelihood to protect here! Our reputation, even. Don't be comin' here out of the blue after years and be sittin' down in my kitchen and get the nerve to tell me to calm down. After all the cockamamey horsehockey we been through together growing up, you owe me that much."

    My jaw dropped a bit, since that seemed to come out of left field.

    Wow. She was furious.

    Rarity's eyes were glued to the floor, as if she didn't know what to say. It was pretty clear by now that Applejack and Rarity had a history. I kept quiet for the most part, since I didn't see any point in butting in while they were going at it.

    I was also busy tying myself in knots.

    My conundrum was as follows: I could actually, probably, solve some of the problems Applejack was having, at least in part. This would require me to use my wondrous wizardly wisdom to figure out a way to locate all the maliciously enchanted food on her property — that probably wasn't going to be so complicated, and it might just boil down to an afternoon of hard work. That would ensure that nopony else would be getting sick off her family's crops at least. If I really put my mind to it, I might figure out some way to get rid of the food poison spell altogether, which might save her a lot of money to boot. That would be the right thing to do.

    The downside was that there were two major issues with running around willy-nilly and just showing people how to use magic. First and foremost, was that the White Council frowned very heavily about that sort of thing. It was much easier to exist as a wizard in Equestrian society if nopony went around burning the metaphorical commons and letting the secret out the door. If I started doing that beyond the level of wizard-themed advertising for my side job (which is what I could inevitably explain it away as, and nopony would really look too closely) there might be some Consequences with a capital 'C' coming my way down the line. I had already done the responsible thing and contacted the local warden, which guaranteed that somepony would be around in a few days at most to be checking things over with a fine-tooth comb.

    The second issue was way less complicated: I was partly involved with this mess because Queen Celestia called in a favor that I owed her, and it struck me as a good idea to step incredibly carefully because of that. I didn't want Celestia angry with me. That's a good way to have my entire apartment glassed from orbit, or get turned into a statue for ten thousand years, or whatever absurd sorts of shenanigans Faerie queens can do.

    Come to think of it, I should probably try to sort most of this out before the White Council warden gets here.

    Hmmm. Maybe that one was more of a reason to be a little more open with these two ponies than not.

    Rarity and Applejack were also operating under some false assumptions: that the organization behind this was operating with some sort of funky criminal interests. That might be true at some level, but I knew that a Red Court vampony was heavily involved in this mess— which meant that the motives could range from 'some obscure plot to weaken the populace so we can eat them more easily' to 'because sowing suffering and despair among ponykind is what we do every Tuesday'. They might run into some very real danger as a result of that lack of info. They could get hurt.

    And it would be on my head if they did.

    A few of the lessons that I was taught over the last few years weren't related to magical theory at all. Some of the hardest to learn were about why you should use it. The philosophical questions pertaining to that were difficult to arrive at an answer to, mostly because your answer to that question had to be your answer to that question. Mine turned out to be surprisingly simple, mostly.

    I believed in using magic to make the world a better place.

    Which made my decision simple, if not easy.

    I cleared my throat.
     
  • Threadmarks
    • Honesty this is the weakest part of the crossover since as far as most ponies know unicorns already use some sort of magic. For a wizard it may be very limited but for most ponies? Is still magic. Even more so for non ponies that cannot do it.
     
    Job One 1.12
  • Threadmarks
    • Job One 1.12​



    "I would like to demonstrate something that I think might be helpful," I said. I said it with a lot more confidence than I actually felt. "Can we go outside and head over to the orchard? It's one of those things that I think would be easier to show than to explain."

    I turned to leave the room. Applejack and Rarity looked at each other, then they both shrugged and followed along.

    I would have to demonstrate something to the two of them that really stood out. It would have to be something that they couldn't explain away, so I needed to do something that produced a real, tangible effect. Illusions were right out, as was anything minor like telekinesis, card tricks, or some minor divination, thaumaturgy, or evocation. Most evocation was probably off the list as well, since the real flashy stuff wasn't something that I could necessarily reproduce consistently. The spectacular acts of tossing around a lightning bolt or conjuring up a miniature tornado could just be explained away as a freak coincidence unless I did it repeatedly, and I didn't have the energy, efficiency, or the requisite control to do that and have it remain safe (for any bystanders or for myself). Whatever bit of magic I would be demonstrating to convince them would preferably be more fantastical than the average stuff they were used to from unicorns, earth ponies, or pegasi. That limited my options significantly.

    Luckily, we were on a farm. I had spent several years of my apprenticeship on a farm, and my mentor had insisted that I help out with the farm work one way or another. I hated physical labor, so that meant that to fill my daily chores quota over the course of those years, I had to get creative.

    I left the way we came in — it wouldn't do for me to try to go out the back and look all silly, that wouldn't be very impressive and wizard-like — nodding to Big Mac as we passed him on the way out. I strode down the length of the old wooden porch and went down the side stairs.

    The farm itself was split into a few large areas, with a series of fields and barns dotting one side of the main household, and a massive apple orchard flanking the house on the opposite side. The trees in the orchard were arranged in long rows, only broken up by a small pond that cut into the northernmost rows. Bushels of apples were stockpiled here and there.

    I was walking towards the pond.

    "Ya mind fillin' us in?" Applejack piped up. She still sounded slightly ornery, and her accent got a tad thicker as her mood worsened. "What exactly are we doin' out here?"

    Rarity sniffed. "Quite."

    "Simple," I said. "I'm going to cast a big magic spell and do something straight out of a foal's bedtime story. After that, I'm going to explain to you that I'm a wizard, and that one of the ponies we are dealing with is a bloodsucking vampony, and that there's probably a warlock — dark magic user — up to no good in town as well. I will try to fix the issue with the food so long as I can get your assistance with that, and hopefully figure this whole steaming pile of confusing fudge out."

    I noticed that Rarity and Applejack had stopped, so I looked back with a raised eyebrow.

    "Coming?" I asked. Silence.

    "Hah," Applejack said. Her tone was dry as straw. "That's a laugh. If yer gonna' pull my legs any more than you can git."

    Rarity was giving me an odd look. "A magic spell, you say?"

    "Ayup," I said, echoing Big Mac's matter of fact tone. I looked at the other ponies expectantly. "Are you coming, or not?"

    "Listen here — "

    "Applejack," Rarity said. She said it.. not sharply per se, but she said it in a way that commanded attention. Applejack paused before she could really put any steam into her tirade — which I'm sure would aptly describe what she was about to say — and shot Rarity an impatient look.

    But she didn't say anything.

    Rarity and Applejack locked eyes. "Maybe we should give the mare the benefit of the doubt."

    Applejack continued to not say anything. She broke eye contact a few moments later and shrugged.

    "Eh, fine by me," Applejack said. She was clearly still displeased, but seemed to reign her emotions in a bit. "I can spare a few minutes for politeness's sake, I s'pose."

    We continued walking down towards the pond. I stopped a few yards short of the pond edge.

    "Teleo," I muttered. I ripped a ripe looking green apple from a nearby tree and floated it over. I turned to Applejack with the green apple in hoof. "Can you carve out a good piece of ground to plant one of these? It doesn't have to be perfect, it just has to have a decent amount of nutrients and moisture. Maybe by the pond over there?"

    I received some questioning looks in return — Applejack's was particularly sour — but Applejack seemed to go along with it without any verbal objections. Rarity seemed to be convinced that I wasn't completely wasting their time, so that was a plus. I guess it helped that I was pretty confident that I could actually do the thing I was about to try.

    It was important to follow up on your own hype.

    "I don't really see where this is going," Applejack said, "but sure thing."

    Applejack tore open a small hole in the earth with a few powerful and well-placed kicks. I handed her the apple, and she placed it gingerly down in the divot before shuffling a few hooffuls worth of dirt on top of it and packing it down gingerly with some well placed stomps.

    I inspected the mound of freshly upturned soil. The dirt looked pretty moist, so I was probably good to go.

    "Out of curiosity," I said, "How long does it take for one of these to grow into a full tree?"

    Applejack bobbed her head in thought. "Depends on what you mean by that, but 'bout seven to ten years from the seed, if the tree manages to grow without issue." She shook her head. "Usually we grow the saplings separate with some supports and plant them down in the orchard when they're partly grown. Takes a long while and we get around to expandin' every year or so. What you askin' for?"

    Well, I want to prime you with that question so you really think about how impressive the thing I'm about to do is.

    "Oh, just curious," I said. "Now, stand back a bit and watch."

    The two of them looked at me like I was completely out of my mind.

    "Hortus," I muttered. "hortus, horti equestris."

    I gathered power to my horn and channeled it, continuing the repetitive chant in a low monotone. This spell was just a high powered version of the gardening spell I'd invented years ago. Theoretically speaking, there was no reason it wouldn't work to produce an apple tree. I just had to be more careful.

    Plants weren't really the most well understood things on the planet. They were just one of the more understood things. I had no idea what sort of strange biological processes were going on in them constantly, beyond the basics that you could check if you spent several days in your master's library researching all manner of things.

    I stumbled on a few interesting studies. One in particular was done by a pony a few centuries ago, where he set out to discover how his plants grew. He grew the plants in isolation on his workbench, and measured the mass of the soil carefully after they were fully grown. He discovered that the mass of the soil changed very little from beginning to end, so he hypothesized that the ferns mostly got their substance from the water that he added in. Some time later, another botanist did a different series of experiments (the same idea actually, except measuring the water poured in and the starting and ending masses of both the soil and the tree) and discovered something that this couldn't be the whole picture: plants must be getting some of their mass from something else while they're growing.

    The conclusion of all this was that they had to be getting something out of the air, as well.

    "Hortus, hortus, horti equestris."

    I kept up the chant. A small seedling began to sprout quickly in the dirt, as I worked. I could feel the little thing pushing roots down through the soil, snaking through the ground and soaking up water and nutrients. I progressed to the second stage of the chant.

    "Hortus, ventus, horti equestris."

    A draft picked up through the clearing and whisps of wind whirled around the little sapling as my spell slowly did its worth. Exhaustion hit me like a runaway train car, but I ignored it. Moving around large volumes of air was difficult, even if I was doing it very carefully and slowly. But I needed to keep a fresh supply of air present for the plant to leech whatever it needed from it. Ditto for lending the young apple sapling energy to execute the metabolic whatsits that it needed to do to kick its growth into high gear.

    "What in tarnation?" Applejack said, breathlessly.

    Even so, I had to stop once it grew a few feet further and a couple more leafy branches. A whole adult tree would take a bit more time than I felt like, and a great deal more energy than I could provide without some serious ritual preparation.

    For now, at least. I'd been told my general skills would improve over time.

    Rarity and Applejack were staring at me, slackjawed and wide-eyed.

    See, growing a plant from seed to sapling in a matter of minutes isn't something that any earth pony could do, nor any old unicorn, or any old pegasus, or any normal creature as far as the general public were concerned. At the end of the day, it took honest to goodness magic to do something like that.

    It took a wizard.

    I gave the two of them my best cocky grin. I was mostly posturing for the sake of it at this point. I was absolutely, positively spent. I needed to sleep.

    I wobbled slightly and blinked a couple times.

    "Yeah," I whispered. "I'm going to get around to explaining the rest soon. Talk more after my nap."

    "A nap? What the sam hill— "

    My body hit the grass with a soft thud. There was a lot of shouting, but I couldn't parse any of the words. I think I felt somepony try to physically check over me as I drifted off into blissful unconsciousness.
     
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    • Yeah definitely a lot weaker that canon Unicorn Twilight Sparkle.

    Again AJ farm is next to the Everfree Forest. What the heck does she think Timberwolves are?
     
    Pinklestia said:
    The Everfree Forest is a really important part of the pony part of this cross so at best it can be AJ doesn't believe Granny Smith most warnings about it. Then again Zap Apple Jam...
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...
    It's pretty clear that the pony half of the crossover is very AU, seeing as Celestia is analagous to one of the queens of the fae instead of a political leader who also happens to have considerable magical power.
     
    DrVillainous said:
    It's pretty clear that the pony half of the crossover is very AU, seeing as Celestia is analagous to one of the queens of the fae instead of a political leader who also happens to have considerable magical power.
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...

    Even so pegasi ponies still control the weather, earth ponies are still good at growing plant life and Ponyville being next to the Everfree is an important part of the FiM side.

    Besides it would be hilarious if Granny Smith actually does magic.
     
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