Fool Moon, Part 7 (Special Talent)

>You feel like you're floating.
>No wait, you ARE floating.
>On your very own cloud castle, courtesy of the douchebag wizard who sent you to horse-hell.
>You finally made enough money to practically enslave him.
>And cure yourself, of course.
>You've got it made.
>You lean back as one of your twenty concubines lowers grapes into your waiting mouth.
>The others are giving you the world's best massage.
>The fellatio could be better, but eh, can't have it all.
>Oh, wait, you can!
>You smile to yourself as you gaze at the piles and mounds of gold, diamonds, and bits made from your years of thievery and skullduggery.
>You finally had enough to retire, get everything you ever wanted.
>"Anonymous."
>You turn to the grape-holding concubine.
"Hmmm?"
>"Anonymous...."
>She leans in for a kiss, and you smile as you lift up your head...
>"ANONYMOUS!"
>Your eyes snap open as you are hurled out of your pleasant dream.
>Oh, right, you're still in magical pony-land.
>And that's not a concubine.
>That's a Rarity


>You hastily pull back from the white pony in your face, wincing as your...well your EVERYTHING tells you that moving was a stupid-ass idea.
>The white mare glares at you.
>"Having a good dream, were we?"
>You grin at her, guiltily.
"Er....yes, actually. What time is it?"
>She rolls her eyes and looks away as you slowly lever yourself upward, swinging your legs around to hang off the fancy couch.
>"It's nearly three in the afternoon! I realize we were both tired, but HONESTLY, Anonymous, that kind of sleep can't be healthy."
>You shrug, then immediately wince as your shoulders tell you SHRUGGING IS A STUPID FUCKING IDEA, WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?
"I take it when I can get it."
>She sniffs, and her horn glows.
>"Take these, make yourself decent. Then come to the kitchen, we need to talk."
>She tosses you a bundle of clothing, and you catch it reflexively, staring at it in confusion.
>It's a...it's an almost perfect fucking copy of your original clothes.
>Granted, they're a little fancier material and there's a gem or two in there, but...
>Wait, gems? For clothing? Holy fuck these clothes would sell for a goddamn fortune back home.
>Your jaw drops, and you look up to express your gratitude when you realize that Rarity is already gone.
>What could she...
>You sniff, slowly, as a smell reaches you from the kitchen.
>HOLYSHITSHECOOKEDEGGS?


>You dress yourself in seconds, the clothes seeming to float onto your body as the smell reaches you.
>Tantalizing.
>Delicious.
>The smell of cooking eggs.
>You sprint to the kitchen, following the smell and leaping over a shocked Rarity as you make it to the kitchen.
>There, they await.
>The unborn orb-children of some unfortunate fowl.
>And they were SCRAMBLED.
>Tears make their way to your eyes as you behold the golden deliciousness, set perfectly on a white plate with a green garnish.
>You had only eaten eggs once in your life, after eating a half-eaten boiled egg off the ground when you were a child.
>Never had you thought you'd get to experience them twice.
>Rarity trots into the room, eyeing you as you cry and stare at breakfast.
>You silently sit down.
>Lift up your fork, laden with eggs.
>And take a bite.
>You burst into tears.
>The taste, oh God! The taste!
>"Anonymous, are you alright!?"
>She gallops over to you, and you envelop her in a hug.
"Rarity, I fucking love you."
>She stiffens.
"You are the best fucking friend I have ever had."
>The stiffness disappears, and she awkwardly pats you on the back.
>"Yes...well, thank you, Anonymous. But we really need to tal.."
>She trails off as she noticed you inhaling the plate of eggs.


>Rarity can only stare in shock as you finish your plate of eggs and move onto hers.
>Eventually, you notice her staring and stop halfway through her plate.
"Oh...uh...you gonna eat this?"
>She silently shakes her head, and finish the plate, belching.
"You wanted to talk about something?"
>"Err, I, yes. Yes, the talk."
>She sighs and pulls up a chair. You take note of thin bandages around her scratches and wounds from last night.
>"Anon, I need to ask a favor."
>You raise an eyebrow.
"Rarity, I work for you, in case you forgot. You saved my life, didn't send me to pony-jail, made me clothes, and COOKED ME EGGS. Say it, and it's yours."
>"Anything?"
"....Who do you want dead?"
>"I'm...going to assume that's a common human joke. But no, what I need you to do..."
>She takes a deep breath.
>"I'malmostoutofbitsandwedidn'tgetanygemsyesterdaysoIcan'tmakeSapphireShore'snextoutfitsoIwo
n'tgetanymoneyandIneedtofindanewclientbutSweetieBelle'scominghometodayandIneedyoutowatchherpleaseple
aseplease!"
>You stare at her blanky from across the table as she blushes and looks at her hooves.
"What."
>"I...err, need you to watch Sweetie Belle."
"Who?"
>"My sister."
"Okay, now the bit before that."
>"I need to find a new client."
"Further back."
>"Err, I'm almost out of money?"
"Yeah, that part. How?"
>She glances around nervously.
>"Well...I havn't exactly been churning out fashion items at my usual pace since our...encounter. I used up some fabric making your clothing, made Fluttershy a new dress..."
>She goes on, but you're too busy feeling like shit to listen.


"Are you fucking insane?"
>You feel your face grow heated. You always got pissed when you felt guilty.
>Rarity pauses, mid explanation.
>"Wh-what?"
"Are you serious? You damn near beggared yourself making a dress for a friend you'd ALREADY made a dress for? You used gems and other fancy shit to make ME clothes? Out of your own pocket?"
>She looks at you calmly.
>"Why, yes. Of course. Twilight's dress was simply DREADFUL, I had to make it up to her, and you had nothing to wear. Why, I remember the outfit you wore when you were robbing m-"
"Yes, ROBBING you! I was trying to ROB you, Rarity, and you just made me a fancy outfit! You just told me you spent a huge amount of fucking money on a guy who was trying to steal from you!"
>She sniffs, delicately. You notice her cheeks are growing a little red.
>"There are more important things than money, Anonymous."
>You stare at her, disbelieving.
"No. No there fucking aren't."
>She flinches, taken aback a little at your vehemence.
>"Of course there are!"
"Name one thing."
>"Why, friendship, of course. Our friendship, for example? Does that not mean more to you than money?"
>You raise a finger, then lower it, slowly.
>Did it?
>You turn the question over in your mind for half a second before discarding it. Answering that would require serious self-searching.
>Fuck that noise.
>Instead, you calm yourself and address Rarity.
"You shouldn't waste that much money on me, Rarity. Or on any of your friends. Start thinking of yourself, of what you could do with that money, huh? Make some dreams come true."
>She smiles at you.
>"You can't bribe dreams into reality, Anonymous."


"Yes you can!"
>The anger behind your answer startles you as much as it does Rarity, but she recovers faster than you.
>"Yes...well, let's not have this argument, Anonymous. I'm going to go advertise some dresses and socialize with a few nobleponies. Finding another client shouldn't be TOO difficult. Sweetie should be here in an hour. The kitchen is open to you, make sure she has a filling dinner. I'll be back tomorrow morning."
>You glare at her as she walks out the front door, still wearing that insufferable smirk of hers.
>After she's gone, you collapse on the couch, ignoring your protesting cuts and silver burns.
>You briefly consider stealing everything that's not nailed to the ground and running, but drop it.
>Your heart's just not in it.
>Not from Rarity. She'd fucking beggared herself just so you could have what she considered a DECENT set of clothes.
>Who even does that?
>You owe her.
>You snarl and clench your fist.
>You hate owing people.
>You spend the next hour like that, looking at your hands and frowning, when you hear a few harsh knocks at the door.
>You get up and walk over, pulling the door open.
>Must be Rarity's sister. Probably just as snooty and insufferable and GENEROUS as he-
>"HEYA RAR-whoa, what the heck is that?"
>"I ain't never seen one of those things afore...."
>"Whoa. Cool."
>HNNNNNNNGH they're so tiny and adorable!
>But you're pretty sure Rarity didn't say sisters, plural.
"Who the hell are you all?"
>Their eyes light up, and your 'you dun goofed' alarm goes haywire.

Rarity's perspective
>You sigh to yourself as you trot away from the house.
>Some days, that Anonymous could fray your nerves like NOTHING else.
>He was just so...so selfish! And barbaric! And rude! And dirty, of course, but considering what he told you of his home, that's not surprising.
>You had a lot of work to do, that was for sure.
>You sigh to yourself as your thoughts inevitably fall back to your job today.
>You hadn't lied to him (except about it being ONLY Sweetie Belle) you really did need to find a new client to sell your creations to. Sapphire Shores would never take an outfit with so few gems.
>As you make your way to the outskirts of Ponyville, your horn lights up as you ruffle around in your bag.
>You had one thing more important to do than work, today. You had been turning the events of the previous day over in your head, and your course was clear.
>That thing, whatever it was, could not be allowed to roam around Equestria hurting ponies.
>Not when you had the means to stop it.
>You fish the silver spearhead out of your pack, inspecting it where it's been altered and tied to the arrowshaft.
>Archery was a common sport among nobleponies, and it was one thing you'd practiced to fit in when attending parties and other functions.
>Today might be the only day you practice for a serious reason.
>Your horn lifts your archaic white bow from your pack, and you fit the silver arrow to the bow before taking aim at a distant tree in the Whitetail Wood.
>You only hoped Anonymous could handle those three while you were out.

Thiefanon's PoV
>"WE'RE THE CUTIE MARK CRUSADERS!"
>Oh God your ears!
"Cutie...what?"
>The yellow one speaks up.
>"We're tryin' tah get our cutie marks!"
>Jesus that accent was so fucking adorabl-wait.
"Cutie marks? You mean the ass tattoos? Like Rarity's gems?"
>"HEY! My sister does NOT tattoo donkies!"
>Oh god this one's voice even cracks!
>Careful captain! We cannae handle d'aww of this magnititude!
"Okay, okay! That means you must be Sweetie Belle. How bout we start from the beginning. I'm Anonymous."
>You let them inside, where they tell you there names are Sweetie Belle, Scootaloo, and Apple Bloom.
>They also tell you a bunch of other interesting stuff.
"So wait, you have TWO rulers? And they do what now?"
>"Raise the sun and moon! Jeeze, we learned this stuff in school ages ago. How old are you mister?"
"Watch the tone, Scootaloo! I'm old enough to be your father! I..well I think I am."
>She sticks her tongue out at you and you smack her in the nose with a spoonful of spaghetti.
>It's really the only thing you can cook.
>You serve them while you grill them on "Equestria's" lore.
"So these ass tattoo-cutie marks, sorry, they tell you your special talent? What you're good at?"
>"Uh huh! Hey, mister Anonymous, do hoo-mans get cutie marks? What's yer special talent?"


>A man with better sense would have diverted the line of questioning an hour ago.
>You stole from wizards for a living. You were not a sensible man.
"I take things."
>Applebloom jumps up in surprise.
>"You're a thief!?"
"I prefer the term 'highwayman.'"
>You didn't, actually, but it sounded classy. Like something Rarity would say. Hopefully they'd-
>"Say mister Anonymous?"
"Yeah Sweetie?"
>"How hard is it to, er, take things? Do ya think we could do it?"
>You shrug.
"Hell, I started around your age. You just have to know what you're doin-"
>You stop.
>Even a man as dense as you can realize when you've made a terrible, terrible mistake.
>"CUTIE MARK CRUSADER HIGHWAYMEN, YAY!"
"No!"
>"Huh?"
"No, you can't be highwaymen."
>"Why?"
"Because, I'm the only highwayman around, and I'm not teaching you how to do it."
>"Wah nawt?"
"Because...errr, it's bed time!"
>They frown up at you, and pat yourself on the back for out-thinking them.
>Then your skin ripples.
>Oh shit.
>It actually IS bed time


>You shiver again as you look out the window.
>Yep, definitely night time.
>And there's the moon. Big, and round, and white, and...
>Fuck!
>You blink and look away, holding your arms to your sides.
>You could feel the dark half rustling around in the back of your head, called by the moon and unable to answer.
>The furry bastard was too weak to take over after getting his ass handed to him by Rarity.
>You still felt sick with that big orb hanging in the ai-
>"Mister Anonymous?"
>You look down at the CMC, who are all staring up at you, concern coloring their big, adorable eyes.
>"Are you okay?"
>You swallow back bile.
"Yeah, fine. Just a little tired. Which is why you little tykes are going to bed! In...errr....uh..."
>You glance around, when Sweetie pipes up.
>"We can all sleep in my room, girls!"
>They run up the stairs, and you follow to make sure they don't break anything or hurt themselves.
>As they go up, they start asking you questions.
>"Anonymous, you sure you can't teach us how ta get a cutie mark in bein' highwaymen?"
"Nope sure c-"
>Inspiration strikes you in one of your rare flashes. Rarity needed bits. You owed her. You had a special talent.
"Well....if you girls tell me something, I might be able to teach you tomorrow."
>Their eyes light up.
"Who's the richest pony in town?"
>"Tha's easy, Anonymous! Diamond Tiara and her daddy, Filthy Rich!"
"And where do they live?"
"The big mansion near tha' school! Now what're you gonna teach us?"
>You ruffle AB's hair.
"Tomorrow, I promise. Right now, get some sleep."
>They groan at you, but you ignore them and close Sweetie's door.
>You've got work to do.

Music: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w0g5b5E11Cs
>You put your gloves on.
>Put your hood up, tie your cloak close.
>Can't have skin showing tonight. You don't want to be seen.
>You've got a short job to do in a house you have not surveyed on targets who look nothing like you.
>If you're seen, it's over. For you and for Rarity. She'd get no money and you'd go to jail.
>You smile to yourself.
>Just like old times.
>You slip out of the door, grinning as you break into a run.
>You're across the street and in an alley before anyp0ny can legitimately say they saw anything.
>You weren't a fighter, or a killer, or a thinker.
>What you were was quick, and sneaky.
>You swing yourself over a low alley wall as you make your way toward's the mansion that can only belong to a certain "Filthy Rich."
>Apt name. You liked it.
>The mansion is well-guarded, bored-looking ponies lounging around the outside, keeping eyes on the doors and windows.
>None of them see you as you start scaling the side of the building, searching for handholds and crevices in the building's makeup.
>Eventually, you climb your way to the top, with nop0ny the wiser.
>You lick your lips as hang off the roof's edge, eyeing the nearest darkened window.
>You kick once, twice, three times, and knock the window upwards and open to the night.
>No locks.
>Your smile widens as you swing yourself out and in, dropping into the room of Diamond Tiara with nary a whisper of sound.


>Your grin stayed plastered on your face as you swung into the bedroom.
>A pink filly was stretched out, unconscious, on the bed, giving out the most ungodly snore.
>She had a cute little tiara with three diamonds set in it sitting on her bed.
>You swiped it shamelessly, rifling around in her possessions briefly for more treasures.
>Twenty more tiaras. Huh. Odd.
>You tip-toe out of the room, moving down the halls like a spectre.
>You wanted to find Filthy Rich's room.
>Or his vault, whichever came first.
>But as you moved, you didn't feel you needed to.
>Busts made of solid gold, gemstones, jewelry in glass cases were EVERYWHERE.
>Hell, the guy even had bags of DOSH laying around on the ground.
>It was a thieve's paradise.
>Your grin is practically a rictus as you make your way deeper into the house.
>Silverware, plates, a fridge, this must be the ki-
>You stop, as you hear a distant rustling in the kitchen.
>"Applebloom, sssshhh, we gotta be quiet! You watched Anonymous, right? If we're gonna grab DT's stuff we can't be eating out of her fridge!"
>"But I'm hongry!"
>Oh...shit...
>"Don't worry girls, we can do this! CUTIE MARK CRUSADER HIGHWAYMEN, YAY!"
>Oh shit.
>The lights in the kitchen come on, and you press yourself flat against a wall.
>"What are YOU losers doing here!?"
>OH. SHIT.
>"S-Silver Spoon!?"