Fool Moon, Part 8 (Blue-Blooded.)

>Shit shit shit shit shit goddamnit why couldn't you midgets have stayed back at Rarity's house?
>"I can't believe you freaks! I come to have a sleepover with DT and you BREAK INTO HER HOUSE? And steal her food? I'm gonna call Mr. Rich's bodyguards and get you thrown in jail!"
>The fillies adopt looks of matching horror, and you curse to yourself.
>If this little gray bitch calls attention to those fillies and you can kiss the rest of your robbing spree goodbye.
>What to do, what to do, what to do...
>You can't be seen. If you are, Rarity's in deep shit, and so are you. As far as you know, you're the only human around.
>If they get a glimpse of you, even in your clothing, and it's game over.
>Your mind starts racing while the fillies continue to shout at each other.
>If they see you, you're screwed. If the fillies keep fighting, you're screwed.
>Solution: shut both groups the hell up without being seen.
>You peer around the corner to get a better look into the kitchen.
>Some kinda light in the ceiling. You reach in your pockets, wishing you had a kni-
>Your fingers close around one of those gaudy fucking tiaras you swiped from the pink filly's room.
>"That's it, I'm going to get Mr. Ri-"
>You hurl the tiara like a throwing knife.
>There is a quiet shattering sound as the light breaks under the awkwardly hurled tiara.
>All four fillies shriek, and you tighten your hood around your face and sweep into the room as the light goes out, running up to the grey filly.
>She turns and looks up at you, terrified, unable to see you fully in the dark.
>"What....what are you?"
>Answer her smoothly, Anon, smooth and scary...
"I'M THE GOD DAMN BAT HORSE."


>Filly shriek status: achieved.
>That's not what you wanted at all!
>"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"
>This filly is quite loud.
>Why couldn't she just faint!
>"I DON'T WANNA GET EATEN BY A BAT-HORSE! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH-"
>Alright, enough of this shit.
>You rear back and punch her in the face.
>You hear a snapping sound as her glasses break in half.
>You're pretty sure you broke her nose too. You shake your hand slightly as Silver Spoon drops like a gray brick.
>The CMC are still screaming, great.
>You step over Silver Spoon and fumble your way over to them, cursing your lack of night vision.
>"HE KILLED SILVER SPOON! WE'RE NE-"
>You lean down into their wide-eyed faces.
"Shut up."
>"Ano-"
>You hold a single finger to your lips and ssshh them as angrily as you can.
"Shut. The fuck. Up."
>You see tears in their eyes, but you're too angry to care. They have seriously screwed your night up.
>Now with one member of the household injured, unconscious, and aware of intruders, counting the noise factor, you've got maybe seven minutes of stealing before it's time to run.
>That is a significant impact on your DOSH intake.
>That makes you a very unhappy man.
>The CMC are still sniffling at you.
>"A...Anon...we're sorry...we just wanted to help..."
"I'm sure you did, but you could have landed all of us in some serious, SERIOUS trouble. I need to grab a few things and then get out. Follow me. And stay QUIET."
>They all nod their heads sorrowfully.
>You glare at them one more time before turning around and padding out of the room.
>You had one last goal in mind before fleeing.
>You were going to rob the shit out of Filthy Rich's personal vault.


>Right, okay, this is still workable.
>You've got minutes left.
>You pad through the hallway quietly as the fillies tip toe behind you.
>Their constant sniffling and comparably loud hoofsteps are going to give you away, you just know it.
>You decide to whisper to them to cheer them up and pass the time.
"Listen, girls."
>"Huh?"
>TOO LOUD.
"I'm sorry I yelled at you earlier. This is just..this is serious, important, difficult stuff. Any one thing goes wrong, and you could get seriously hurt."
>They remain silent for a bit, before Sweetie Belle speaks up.
>"Anon, we're really, really sorry."
"It's okay. Just...don't do this again. And...don't tell Rarity."
>Sweetie snorts.
>"No worries about either of those. I can't believe we tried this."
>Scootaloo sighs.
>"It's my fault guys. I came up with the idea."
"No reason to play the blame game, let's just get out of he-"
>You stop speaking suddenly.
>You don't know how, or why, but you know you've found it.
>Without a word of explanation, you press an ear to the hallway wall.
>A sharp rap of your knuckle tells you something's...wrong.
>It's there. The vault! You're going to get rich after all! Hallelujah, here comes the mo-
>You freeze as a bright circle of light washes over your outstretched fingers.
>"STOP RIGHT THERE CRIMINAL SCUM!"
>You jump, and the fillies shriek.
>"NOBODY BREAKS THE LAW ON MY WA.....what the hell is that!?"
>You move, immediately, rolling to keep their eyes from getting a clear focus on you.
>It's time to get the hell out.
"EVERYP0NY SCATTER!"

Music: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n6jCJZEFIto
"Get out the way you came!"
>The fillies, to their credit, sprint away, running down the hall in a scrabble of tiny hooves.
>The ponies, you assume Rich's guards or retainers, immediately snap their flashlights around to follow your voice.
>You keep rolling, keeping just out of sight, giving them only glimpses of your fingers, or the edge of your cloak.
>"Sweet Celestia, what the hell is it, Ace?"
>"I don't know man, I don't know! It's some kinda monstah!"
>That's right, you dumb bastards, keep chasing me. All eyes on me while I scare you shitless.
>You roll and bounce down the hallway, staying out of the lights, keeping busts and potted plants and desks between you and their inquisitive spotlight.
>The pony guards keep up the chase, doggedly pursuing you through the halls.
>"The boss is gonna want this thing caught, whatever it is!"
>Fuck you and fuck your boss, horse-man.
>You pause and upend a bust on your crazy sprint down the hall.
>You hear the ponies curse and stumble as they cross it, their eyes and lights too busy trying to catch you to pay attention.
>You keep running, pushing yourself to the limit as you hurl down the corridor.
>You see the target, one window, God knows how many floors up.
>"STOP, THIEF!"
>You ignore them and hurl yourself through the window, the glass bursting around you in glittering shards as you leap free.
>Into the open air.



>This....
>Was not your best idea ever.
>You hold in a shriek as you fall through the air and crunch into the ground below.
>Pain shoots through you as you feel glass slice into your skin and a bone in your leg snap.
>You hiss and roll on your elbows, holding your back flat against the wall, out of view of the above window.
>You wait for what feels like an eternity as the guards scan the ground with their flashlights before turning and running deeper into the house.
>You take a deep breath and leverage yourself upwards.
>The bone in your leg's nearly finished knitting itself back together. Great thing about your 'sickness,' that. As long as it wasn't silver, you could recover eventually.
>God damn if it wasn't a bitch while healing, though.
>You get to your feet and hop-limp away from the crash sight, into the safety of Ponyville's startlingly clean alleyway.
>The fillies are waiting for you, and Scootaloo's staring at you in a vaguely creepy way.
>"Anonymous! That. Was. Awesome!"
>The other two start blabbering their support, but then Scootaloo speaks up again.
>"Almost as awesome as Rainbow Dash!"
>Sweetie Belle and AB fall into a terrified silence, and stare at Scootaloo as if she's grown an extra head.
"Who the hell is Rainbow Dash?"
>Sweetie and AB give you expressions of shocked terror, and Scootaloo's face grows very grave.
>"Anonymous. I have much to teach you."
>You let out an agonized sigh as you limp home, an orange filly filling your ear with tales of flying and rainbows while the other two fillies glare at you with undisguised hatred.

Rarity's perspective (Canterlot)

>The garden party was, as always, the very picture of perfection.
>Ponies played croquet, chatted, sampled snack sandwiches, and discussed important subjects like politics or the latest fashion.
>It was, Rarity reflected as she sipped on a glass of wine, tremendously boring.
>There was no Fancypants to keep the party alive, and her friends weren't there to bring any fun to the party. There wasn't even an Anonymous to challenge her in his contrary fashion.
>She hid her smile behind another sip of wine as she imaged him at one of these parties.
>He would probably spend the night going between bemoaning the pompousness of the nobleponies and trying to rob them blind.
>She missed him.
>It didn't help that her attempts at gaining a new client were all dismal failures.
>She'd used her last bits to get a round trip ticket to Canterlot, and it seemed like it wasn't worth anything.
>She'd engage noble, rich ponies in polite conversation, offer a sample of her dresses and other fashion work, they'd show polite interest, and then decline.
>It just didn't make any sense.
>After that first garden party debacle, her dresses had all been spectacular hits!
>What had changed?
>And why was everyp0ny avoiding her.
>She angrily downed her drink as she watched the ponies around her.
>Did they think her work was not good enough? Had she not given enough samples of qual-
>"Well, well, well. Who do we have here?"
>Oh. HIM.
>As if this night couldn't get any worse.


>Never in her life had Rarity wished for a stronger drink as she did right then.
>Instead, she forced a smile onto her face and turned around to address...
>HIM.
"Hello, Blueblood."
>"PRINCE Blueblood, miss Rarity. Please, I realize the minds of common ponies are a bit...slow, but try to get it right."
>Rarity's smile slowly crystallizes into an icy grimace.
"Oh, how clever. What do you want?"
>Blueblood tuts.
>"So rude! Where's that cultured tongue I remember so well from the Gala? At least, cultured before you screamed at me like a foal and dumped cake on me."
>Rarity's eyes flash.
"I'll repeat my question. What is it you want, other than to whine to me about past slights, oh noble Prince?"
>He smiles, ignoring the barb.
>"That's better. With time, we might even teach you to say my title with the proper respect. As for what I want, I've heard that a certain common mare is in a bit of financial trouble."
>Rarity freezes. How could he possibly....
>"Being the magnanimous gentlecolt that I am, I want to help."
>He smiles, slowly and coldly.
>"I'd like to make a deal."


"Yes, I'm sure you do. Let me guess, you'll toss a few bits my way if I apologize publicly for making you cry like a baby over a little cake?"
>She smiles at the flash of irritation on his perfect white features.
>"No, nothing so crude. There's only one place I'd be tossing bits at a mare like you, and I don't think you're that destitute."
>Rarity's face colors, and Blueblood smiles.
>"...or are you?"
>The slap rings out across the quiet garden party grounds.
>The nobleponies know better than to take notice.
>Blueblood chuckles.
>"As barbaric as I remember."
>Rarity glares at the Prince, offering neither apology nor explanation.
"You said something about a deal in that arrogant rambling of yours."
>"Yes, I did, didn't I? Well, through means that you will remain ignorant of, I have come to understand that you, my dear common fashionista, have run low on funds and clients. I'm here to make you an offer. I've always had a bit of passion for the arts, especially the way they once played out among the nobleponies. I wish to be your patron, in the old way."
"How, exactly, does that work?"
>He smiles again.
>"I would select and provide you with clients, approve or deny any artistic projects of yours, and receive a slight majority of your pay."
>Rarity forces herself to remain calm.
"And in return?"
>"You would be treated to the Canterlot high life under the system of patronage. You'd have a steady stream of clients. No more phases of high income marked with phases of none."
>Rarity stirs her refilled drink.
"So, you're offering to provide me with less pay and more work, in return for owning my business?"
>His smile widens.
>"No, Rarity. In return for owning YOU."


"And if I do the obvious, and refuse?"
>His grin remains fixed.
>"Then I'll crush you."
>She raises an eyebrow.
"Really, now? And how would you go about doing that?"
>"Rarity, Rarity, Rarity, I'm a Prince. Surely you've wondered at why your business is drying up, lately? About why only Sapphire Shores was willing to approach you about making an outfit? I'm royalty, Rarity."
>His smile grows venomous.
>"All I had to do was drop a few rumors about how you were keeping an exotic wild animal in the same living space where you made dresses."
>Rarity's glass falls from her magical grip, only to be caught by Blueblood.
"How could you possibly...."
>"Royalty, my dear fashionista. Royal blood and a nearly unlimited fortune can work wonders. My eyes and ears are everywhere. I'm not sure WHAT exactly you're keeping, but it isn't a pony. All I had to do was comment on Ponyville's recent animal attacks..."
>He sips Rarity's wine.
>"And voila. Nop0ny in Canterlot will do business with you, for fear of hospitilization."
>Rarity stays silent, and his grin widens.
>"All that was just to arrange this little meeting. I want to make something clear to you."
>"If you refuse me, I will tear your reputation to shreds. You will never work in Canterlot again. Your work will be compared to common rags. You'll spend the rest of your life bit-less, dancing away in those same establishments I referenced earlier."
"Why would you do this?"
>"I simply feel you must be taught your proper place."
>He smiles again.
>"Under my hoof."


>Rarity stays silent for a moment.
>Then she coughs, daintily into one hoof.
"I believe...I believe I'll have to answer this the way a dear friend of mine would answer it."
>She clears her throat.
"Blueblood. Fuck you. Fuck your money. Fuck your spies. Fuck your royal lineage. And so help me Celestia if I catch you or your cronies spying on me I'll report you directly to the Princesses. Then it will be a race to see whether they imprison you or I choke you to death first."
>The garden party is deathly silent, with only the sound of popping monocles upsetting the silence.
"In summation, good night, Blueblood. You are a big fish in a small pond. Your pathetic attempts at control are only matched by your pathetic...well, everything else."
>Rarity lifts her head, sniffs once, and makes her way to the exit.
>Blueblood's voice stops her.
>"That kind of fire is the most fun to watch burn itself out. You will, of course, be back. You have no money. The rumor mill will hit Ponyville soon, and then you'll be out of clients even in your bumpkin home."
>He smiles, and finishes off her wine glass.
>"Before the year is out, you will change your mind. Good night, Miss Rarity. I truly hope you enjoyed the party as much as I did."
>She turns, opens her mouth to say something, and then shuts it before marching away.
>Blueblood smiles to himself again, and then turns to calm his noble guests.

>Rarity makes it as far as the train station before she starts shivering.
>Fear fills her heart.
>She'd known Blueblood as a cruel, self-obsessed stallion, but this side of him was...
>He was watching her HOME!
>Sweet Celestia, he'd blamed Anonymous for the animal attacks!
>And Sweetie Belle...
>She took the first train back to Ponyville.

Music: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ufU1u2R0WuU
>Rarity hits the Ponyville streets running.
>Her hooves set up a short, sharp rapport of repeating thunder as she races back toward's home.
>If Blueblood had ponies WATCHING her home, Celestia knows what else they would do.
>Especially with her sister there.
>And Anonymous...
>Rarity throws the front door of the boutique open, and is treated to a strange sight.
>Anonymous, sprawled on his back, fully clothed, on her couch, snoring.
>With three sleeping fillies cuddled up on his chest.
>Against her will, Rarity feels a smile forming on her face.
>The smile drops into a concerned frown when she notes bags around the bottom of the couch.
>And a little white note on the first bag.
>She magics the note up to her face and carefully opens it, reading.
"Morning, Marshmellow. If you're reading this, I'm asleep or on a walk and you got home while I was gone. I'm sorry about the argument we had, and I wanted to make it up to you with a gift."
>Rarity puts the note down and magics the first bag over, confused.
>A swift flick of her horn lays the bag open, releasing a golden tide of sparkling bits.
>Rarity gasps, her mind doing swift calculations of the value of the money in front of her.
>She takes another glance at the note.
"P.S. You were right. You mean more to me than money. Our friendship's something I don't think I could buy."
>A warm, foreign glow fills Rarity's chest, and in the face of that glow, her fear of Blueblood and his ultimatum vanishes like morning mist.
>She looks at Anonymous, looks at the bag of bits, and looks back at him.
>Then she leans over and, very carefully, places a small kiss on his forehead.