Remedy

The pony nodded in response to Rockefilly's orders and found a clear spot on the mahogany desk to place the salt lick box, basket of cactus needles, and the apple pies-- also in boxes. He stacked the two pies and put the smaller salt lick box on top. Next to it, he left the basket of needles. “I shall return momentarily,” he grinned and left the office, heading a few doors over to the rich pony's bedroom. He left the blazer, vest and cowpony hat st the foot of the bed where it would be easiest to spot. Satisfied with his work, he left the bedroom and returned to his own quarters on the opposite end of the hall. All he could think about was getting cleaned up. Thoughts of Rockefilly's 'reward' didn't cross his mind one bit. He made sure the door to his room was closed before stepping into the small washroom that was connected to it. The stallion ran the water and removed his dirty clothing, dumping it into a basket next to the tub. “Glad to be out of those filthy things. What a day.” He sighed and made himself presentable once more. Twelve or so minutes later, he was all clean and had half a leg in his coat tails. He'd never actually worn the jacket before. His mother and father bought it for him weeks before his graduation at the academy. Bastion smiled as he examined his flank in the tall oval mirror next to his bed. He told his parents that he didn't like how old fashioned this style of coat was... But they told him that he held a certain elegance in it, that a modern suit didn't do his charm any justice. 'Your new outfit should be just as unique and special as you are,' was written on a small card that stuck out of his left breast pocket. The pony chuckled and was suddenly reminded of the letter on the bed. Bastion walked up to it slowly and retrieved the envelope. He detached the wax seal from the back with a silver rose letter opener that he always kept at the ready, and spread out its contents across the quilt. Money, a note, and a train ticket. He blinked. Having more interest in the note, he unfolded it and brought it up to his nose. It was from his mother. As he read it tears began to collect in his eyes, though he refused to let them fall. He looked to the train ticket briefly, but shook his head. No. This was were he belonged. His duty would begin here at Maximillian Rockefilly's side. Bastion scooped everything, including the money, back into the envelope and tucked them into a slide out tray within a nightstand by the bed. “There.” He wiped his eyes in the fold of his wing and trotted back to Rockefilly's office. Two knocks later, he was inside once more, alert and awaiting orders. “Witticus Bastion at your service.” He lifted his muzzle confidently and smiled.

Bastion understood Rockefilly's gesture and excused himself from the office. As much as he wanted to change into his coat tails, he decided to wait until he finished the second part of his first assignment. His beret would have to do for now. With the list in his pocket, he set out into the small settlement of Appleloosa that he would come to know in the following days, weeks, months? The dirt beneath his hooves wasn't new, but the color was. It had a slight orange tint to it that stood out against his white fur. Something told him.. things would end up messy if he wasn't careful. Although the dry cleaners was first on the list, Bastion figured it would be better if he got the other items first. After all, where was he going to get cactus needles? Surely he wouldn't want to bring along a recently washed and pressed blazer. Since the needles were the most ridiculous item on the list, the pony sought to get them first. He stopped by the general store and asked the shop keep if they held cactus needles. The pony just looked at him funny, then replied, "If you want strange things like that, try going across the road to the doctor. I hear that pony grinds up all kinds of things. Maybe he'll have these cactus needles you want so bad." Taking the general store pony's advice, he trotted over to the shop right across. The medicine pony didn't store cactus needles either. "What would he need cactus needles for anyway?" He thought to himself as he walked out of the doctor's shop. Left with no reasonable option, he set out into the prairie with a basket on his flank to collect them. His worked quickly since he still had many things to do. The needles would pinch his nose as he plucked them out of the cactus by his teeth. But he was diligent, and counted them one at a time. Bastion's white fur was stained with the red clay of the desert, but you bet he got those damned needles. That took him way too long. He only had thirty minutes left to complete his other tasks. The pony gasped and galloped back to town. Once there, he walked into a store that had clothes showcased in the window. He found what he needed in there-- one vest and one cowpony hat-- and paid for it out of his pocket. Next was the bakery. They had the salt lick order wrapped in a box. When Bastion asked for the apple pies, they offered them free of charge. He refused the first time, then the second time. The third time he was supposed to accept right? He had no choice but to take those apple pies for free. Bastion never liked getting things for free. He put his pride aside and let the pony have her way. Fifteen minutes left. Finally Bastion made his was to the cleaners. He was surprised that Appleloosa even had one of those. Suppose with all the dirt, you'd need something like that. All of the buildings looked very similar though, so finding it was going to be a bit of a task. Or so he thought. Upon asking for directions from a nearby pony, he trotted to the building that was sure to be the one he was looking for. And it was, to his relief. Inside, he stepped up to the counter and rang the bell. A pony emerged from the back room and greeted his customer with a smile, "Gooday, Sir. What can I do ya for?" "Good evening to you too. I'm here to pick up a--" The cleaner pony leaned his head over the counter and got a good look at the white stallion. "Ah! I haven't seen you 'round here before! So yer new, eh? Where ya from?" "Oh, uh. I am from Manehattan. I have a feeling we'll be seeing a lot of each other.. Now if you don't mind, I'm in a bit of a hurry..." "That vest and tie suit up reminds me of that Rockerfillay fellow that settled here a while back. You know em?" Bastion smiled and nodded his head slowly. "I'm here to pick up his blazer, actually." "Well, why didn't ya say so! I have it right here..." he reached behind the counter and withdrew the garment hung on a hanger. But then he realized Bastion's disheveled appears. "Golly. You're all covered in dirt. Aren't you just going to get this jacket dirty if you carry it looking like that?" He put the blazer in a bag and then placed it across Bastion's back," There. That should hold steady. Be careful with that." The white stallion frowned and blinked up at the pony. "Do I owe you anything?" "Nah! Was all payed fer. Go on and return it quick 'fore it gets a mess!" Bastion nodded at him and left back for the mansion. Those two hours couldn't have been longer. He was an ungraceful mess. His mane and tail had collected dirt and cactus needles. His beret had met oblivion. It had fallen off so many times on his needle-hunting expedition that he constantly trampled it without realizing. He just didn't even want to think about his physical appearance right now. Scarlet was there to open the door to the mansion for him, and that was all he could have asked for. "Thank you, Scarlet." He lowered his head to her and ascended the staircase. There was no time left to spare... and he didn't want to be late. Bastion had no choice but to let Rockefilly see him in his current state. Pride. He could push it aside one more time today, couldn't he? The pony knocked twice as he did earlier on Rockefilly's door, and entered. "Mister Rockefilly. I have everything else you asked for." He put on his best face, trying not to look exhausted. "Where would you like me to put everything?"

Bastion wasted no time in getting started. The moment his employer went out the door, the pony got to work. He took to the wooden seat behind his new desk, propping his rear onto it, and then began sorting through Rockefilly's mail. It was a mindless task, but he made it a test of his own vigilance to see how fast he could be done with it. Sorting the mail took up less of his time than he expected. The initial pile looked big, though the majority of the letters weren't important according to his judgement. The stallion looked around the room and eyed for anything similar to a serving tray. He found one over in the corner on a small table. There were a few things on top of it, but nothing that couldn't be moved to the side. He placed a few stacks of letters on top that he loosely tied together with a thin string he found in one of the drawers. Under the string on top of each stack was a small slip of paper. The stacks read: 'Priority', 'Invitations', 'Expired Invitations', and 'Secondary'. Bastion would see how the rich pony responded to his style of sorting. This was something he came up with himself. The Academy would teach him one thing, but he would innovate and go about it in a less efficient manner, though it would be more aesthetically pleasing. After he was done preparing the tray with letter stacks, he folded the shopping list neatly into a vest pocket, and then hoisted the tray onto his nose. The stallion headed out of his office and walked across the hallway to Rockefilly's. He knocked twice, as he was told, and then pushed the door open. “I have finished sorting your mail, Mr Rockefilly.” That last part tasted odd as it rolled off of his tongue... Bastion was all too familiar with using the word 'Sir'. He entered the office with the tray still balancing on his nose, and approached the other pony's desk. Was he even in here? That would be embarrassing. He turned his head and eyed the large mahogany desk in the middle of the pony's office, expecting to see him sitting behind it.

Bastion turned the page in his mental notebook and began jotting down the new information Rockefilly was giving him. There was Scarlet, the other pony who also lived here. If that was the case, he would be seeing a lot more of her. The stallion dropped his suitcase onto a table when they entered the room he would be staying in. He resumed his mental note-taking. There would be time to look at the room later. Rockefilly's quarters were at the opposite end of the hall. To record messages. Take care of appointments. Call him 'Sir' when in public and to refer to him informally when at home. Ask questions. Knock twice. No drinking on non-holidays. Speak. That was most of it, right? Bastion focused on Rockefilly the entire time. When he asked if Bastion had any questions, the stallion rose his head. “I do have a question... Would it be all right if I went about doing things here as I have learned to during my study at the Academy? And if you disapprove of something in particular to let me know? Unless there are any other specifications you would like to make, I think this would be the wiser option, so we can avoid my asking you if I'm doing things 'correctly'-- or rather, the way you have certain chores usually done.” The pony trotted over to his new bed and examined the plush pillows. His eyes caught the letter nested on top of one of them. He turned his head. “What is this over here?”

Bastion was attentive during the tour of the small town. He tightly clutched his belongings under his wing as he kept up with Rockefilly's trot. Everything the rich unicorn pointed out to him was recorded mentally for later use. A good memory was one of the many important skills any servant should have. The other stallion spoke up and gave him his first bough of orders. It made sense what the pony said. It didn't seem like a very formal town. In fact, it was nothing like Manehattan, so it didn't come as a surprise that he would be asked to act otherwise. The only odd factor was the rule about receiving gifts. He merely nodded. As he had gotten most of his bearings, Bastion was relieved to see that they had arrived at Rockefilly's home with little trouble. The outside didn't look spectacular, but the inside was magnificent. The white stallion nodded at the servant pony who had opened the door-- he figured he would be seeing more of her (him?) later. Since he entered the building, the pony appeared to be more relaxed. So much so that the grip on his suitcase was lost and it slipped to the floor below with a thud. He apologized for the noise and looked at Rockefilly to answer his question. "This is a wonderful home you have, sir. It will be a pleasure to work here for you." Formal as his upbringing was, every word was filled with genuine emotion. This was the one moment he waited for ever since he discovered his desire to serve. Bastion took the suitcase under his wing once more and stepped beyond into the foyer. He examined the structure of the staircases, and the choice of carpet on the floor. The pony also admired the waxed marble that accented the room. "A very lavish domain to be found in Appleloosa, for sure." He smiled and looked to the small pony who had opened the door for them. "Sir Rockefilly, how many other servants do you have here? And if you don't mind my asking, what position do you plan on putting me in?"

Bastion never covered so much distance by train before. It was as bumpy as he remembered from his previous experience as a colt. Regardless of the ride, he was fine. Since he boarded, the stallion had changed into another set of clothing. With his suitcase tucked under his wing like before, he carefully stepped off of the train. A charcoal beret nestled between his stark white ears, on top of that silver mane. Upon his chest was a lavender pinstripe vest over a white collared shirt. Wrapped beneath the collar and tucked under the vest was a silky black tie. A part of him considered that he might have been overdressed for stepping out of a dusty train onto a dusty wooden platform in the middle of a desert, but upon seeing the fabulous pony in a tux standing a few steps away, the concern vanished. It was the pony that he was here to meet, and to serve. Bastion approached his employer in confident stride and bowed before him respectfully. "Good evening, sir," the white stallion offered Rockefilly gentle smile, "It's a pleasure to see you again, especially under these circumstances." The stallion stepped to the side as to not get in the way of the other ponies getting off the train. The graduate put on a spectacular appearance of remaining calm in the unfamiliar terrain... or at least he did for a few minutes. Then his eyes began to betrayed him, then his ears. Those steely gray hues darted around the small town. He took note of every building he could see from where he stood; their color, their shape. His ears swiveled, taking in every foreign noise. Bastion shook his head lightly and focused his attention once again on the other pony. "Sorry about that. This place is a bit..." He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "It's a bit of a culture shock for me, but I will just have to come to peace with it." The smile reappeared on his muzzle.

A candle's flame sparkled in Bastion's eyes as he read over Rockefilly's letter. As much as he had prepared himself for the day he would actually go out and work at somepony's residence, he couldn't help but feel an uncontrollable joy. The resounding cheer echoed through his room. His mother knocked on the door moments later to make sure he was okay. "I'm fine, mother!" He laughed and opened the door for her. "Good news. Sir Rockefilly said he would be glad to have me at his estate." As excited as he was, he contained himself. Acting out of hand wouldn't be appropriate for a steward. Bastion's mother smiled up at him. There were also tears in her eyes and a pout on her lip. "I'm so happy for you. This also means you're leaving me. Again!" She wailed in the doorway, but her son was more than happy to put a hoof around her. "Don't grieve, mother. You will see me again." He hugged her tightly. When he attempted to break their embrace, she wouldn't let go. "I love you!" The white stallion smiled at her and back away. "Now, I have to get ready. I want to catch today's one o'clock train. Got to make an impression by arriving early." Mrs. Bastion wiped her drippy eyes in her handkerchief and nodded at him. "I think you'll make an impression just by showing up. You're quite the stunning young stallion. <sniffle> But I understand, sweetums. Let me contact your father. I'll get my things and then I will walk you to the station." --- The trip to the station was a quiet one. They both exchanged silent, yet weary glances, wondering if the other was going to be alright. "I'll be fine," they both said in unison. Bastion chuckled. "I'd better get my ticket then." It was waiting for him like Rockefilly said it would. -- Right on time, the train pulled into the station. Not only that, but Bastion's father was galloping towards them. The old stallion huffed as he came to a stop before them. "I got here as quickly.. <wheeze>.. as I could." He panted some more before straightening himself up. "I needed to send you off or I wouldn't be able to forgive myself." Bastion smiled at him. "I'll be back in Manehattan eventually. It's not like you're never going to see me again." His parents gave him one final hug. "See you mother, father." He waved a hoof and tucked his suitcase under his wing. The proud stallion bowed before them and turned to the train. He boarded swifty and found his seat. It was going to be a long couple of hours.

[ PONY ] Remedy Female // Mare // Profile // Threads \\ - An Evening in the Shop - + [ PEGASUS ] Witticus Bastion Male // Stallion // Profile // Threads \\ - Of Candles and Bits [Private RP] -

-- Name: Witticus "Wick" Bastion Sex: Male Age: Stallion Species: Pegasus Pelt Color: White Mane/Tail Markings Color & Style: Light gray mane/tail kept long, usually worn down unless otherwise instructed to do otherwise. Eye Color: Gray Cutie Mark: An unlit candle in a candle holder. Wick got his nickname as a young colt. He would help his parents make candles. More specifically, he would cut the wicks. From where they emerged from the wax-- to the tip of the string-- they would all be the exact same length, right down to the millimeter. Even when he grew out of this wick-cutting phase, the name stuck. It was a form of endearment that he would not take away from them. What he didn't know was that even if candle-making wasn't going to be his special talent, it would be closely related. One frigid night at the candle factory, his parents were working extra hours as demanded of their employer. Worried that something had happened, Wick came to the factory looking for them. There were hundreds of candles lit all over the place. Sure, it was cold, but was it necessary to create a fire hazard? The owner of the facility didn't think so, and accidentally knocked over one of the candles. You can only imagine what happened then. A building of stone and wood engulfed in flames... or that's what would have happened if Wick wasn't there. There was a peculiar twitch in his wings... and somehow, this pegasus knew what he was supposed to do. A cute mark appeared on his flank as he flew into the air. A strong gust of air manifested with the flap of his wings, and the wind wrapped around the room, capturing the renegade flames in its funnel. As the gust crackled into non-existence, so did the fires and the fears of everyone still inside. That night, he was brought home to a delicious dinner and praise from his family. Since then he has been working on his candle-extinguishing techniques, on smaller and massive scales. It's a fascination that he believes only he can understand. You will often see him blowing out candles, relighting them, and blowing them out again. Rinse and repeat. Physique: Stocky Origin: Manehattan Roleplay Type: Mane RP Occupation: Unemployed (plans to be hired as a Steward) Motivation: To provide reliable and spectacular service to ponies everywhere. Likes: Polished silver, pressed fabrics, freshly printed newspapers, waxed marble, and the overlooked things in life. Dislikes: Dirt, all kinds of dirt, all forms and species of dirt. Cannot love or tolerate dirt. Character Summary: Born and raised among lower-class candle-makers in Manehattan, this pegasus has been the apple of his parents’ eyes since he was a young colt. He is often referred to as 'Wick'-- a nickname only used by his friends and family. Although raised alongside an older brother and sister, Wick was always the unspoken ‘favorite’. He would do his daily chores without question-- perfectly-- even going as far as to take on the responsibilities of his siblings so that they wouldn’t have to stress over them. His siblings took advantage of this compulsive behavior, as siblings do, however unbeknownst to their younger brother: he was glad to do things for his family that made them happy. This persistent behavior inspired his parents to save up and send him to a prestigious Butler Academy in Manehattan. They told him that perhaps he would get the chance to live extravagantly among the rich ponies, even if as a steward. The young colt didn’t understand what his parents meant-- because to him being among his family was living extravagantly. He soon discovered why they chose the Butler Academy like they did. It was a compulsive paradise. The Academy was gorgeous, polished, and it smelled of lavender always. His humble upbringing made him an outcast in this pompous society, but Wick quickly adapted and began going by his first name full-time. He learned to be condescending with his cunning, and his wit became more fine-tuned with each interaction. A combination of his silver tongue and natural talent brought him to the top of his class fairly quickly. This more or less dismissed the concerns that Wick had grown his mane and tail long: an inappropriate appearance for a servant, who traditionally had trimmed manes. In only a few days time, he will graduate as top butler of his year. A few rich ponies already have their eyes on hiring him right after he is handed his degree. Who the lucky pony is remains a mystery among them, but so far he has met with several of these potential employers. Only one of them stood out from the rest. A stubborn and confident stallion named Maximillian Rockefilly Jr. stole the spotlight in Wick’s mind, so to speak. He was taken by the manner in which the pony spoke; he was honest and precise-- a tune that Wick knew very well. A careful deduction of his options led Wick to determine that he would approach Mr. Rockefilly and accept his invitation. Since his admission into the Academy, he has seen very little of has family, but they write to each other constantly. Leaving the Academy after the many years he lived there is frightening to the pegasus, and this fear is written of often in his letters. He knew that very soon it would be “his chance to swim in an ocean that his family had merely dipped their hooves into.”

The knock on the door jarred the mare slightly, but it excited her all the same. A trot the door confirmed her assumption- it was Quicklime. "Come on in!" She held the door open with her hoof and gave the filly time to get through. "I swear. Every time I see you, you come carrying more and more. Must be quite a hike, Quicklime," she sneezed. "Either way, I'm glad you're here now." The door shut behind them. "Bring your things to the back and we'll get started," she headed to the back of the small store, pulling aside the vail for Quicklime. "We shouldn't have too many visitors, but if we do I will handle them."

Location: A Remedy to Cure (A medicinal/ointment shop.) A certain mare was running about her shop in a panic. Twenty minutes of searching hadn't yielded the herb she had been looking for all this time. "Quicklime is going to be here any minute! I have to find it!" Her hooves stopped in front of a tall shelved wall that spanned the entirety of one section of her shop. It was like a library... of herbs and spices. The yellow-pelted pony rolled over a ladder and climbed up to the sixth shelf up and examined the basket labeled "Wizard's Folly" She pulled it out of its cubby with her hoof and was relieved to see the herb there. Then she asked herself why she didn't look there sooner... Her mindlessness aside, Remedy grabbed a mouthful of the herb and returned to her section at the back of the store, just behind a thin green vail of a curtain that hung in the doorway. She set the Folly aside on a long table that had a bunch of alchemist items aligned in a row: mortar & pestles, calcinators, alembie, retorts, beakers, flasks, and crucibles. You know, the works. A pony could never be too prepared for an experiment. Now all she had to do was wait for her talented apprentice to arrive. Remedy made her way to the front of the shop, pulling aside the vail with her ear as she passed through. Perhaps she would make sure everything was neatly organize, that all of the containers and bottles were placed where they were supposed to. Things got a bit hectic during the day, and it was in the evening when things slowed down that she had the chance to clean up before going home for the night. Her thoughts wandered back to Quicklime as she rearranged a certain shelf. She looked at the corked bottles in front of her and smiled. 'Plum Shandy' was the first concoction the two herbalist ponies created together. It was a bit of a fluke in the lab, but their creation did what it was supposed to do: act as an pain-number for aching backs. "How often is it that two ponies born in two different places that share the same talent meet up and live their dream together?"

Profile revised.

I think my app's pefect until someone like you comes along. Thank you for giving me other cities to consider. I'm thinking about Bareback Gutch. It would make sense since there would be a reliable source of metals to make crafts out of. I have her parents being clock/watch/pocketwatch smiths. Naturally, they would make these (at least pocket watches) out of gold/silver. Unless it's a gemstone mining town? Metals would be somewhere in those mountains too, don't you think? I'll change the app so it has her living in Appleloosa for a while before moving on to Canterlot.

Hey, house-mate! I love your avatar! A lot of people have a variation of that gif for their own pony. I was wondering how you did that, or where you went to do that.