Inkwell

Ah, here it was, Arrow thought. The motive. The whole reason they'd emigrated to Appleloosa in the first place. It was inevitable that somepony would ask the duo where they'd come from, and he doubted that they'd like the full answer. No matter. He'd played out in his head how he'd answer them on the way over, when he wasn't too distracted with thirst and dehydration. "Well now," he told Max, "Boxer'n I come from Beakbreak Ci'y. Dreadful place, 'orrible livin' conditions, an' we jus' couldn' take it 'nymore. So we wen' south an' tried 'a find work in Bareback Gulch, bu' we 'eard sumfin big was 'appenin' down 'ere in Appleloosa. Mus' be yer railroad, eh? Well, we-" Arrow grunted when a little purple filly bumped into him, nearly knocking him over. He gave her the briefest of glares before he heard her apologize. Normally, he wasn't too fond of spoiled, sass-mouthed brats, but this one was contrite enough for him to give a pass to. "Eh, don' you worry none, poppet," he said. "Jus' watch where yeh scamper off to nex' time." He gave her a pat on the head and turned back to Max. "'Dorable tyke, huh? Bet she's an oof-full." Arrow smiled as hard as he could. "Anyway, we jes' wanna nicer livin' 'an b'fore, 's all. Boxer there kin pull an' lift fings, 'n I kin 'elp wit all the doodads an' wizmos 'at need fixin'. Assumin' there ent been a swarm a' prospective employees a'ready." Boxer blushed and folded his ears back at the kindness that Madame Bistro showed him. She was so nice to him and he hadn't done anything that warranted it. It gave him a more pleasant feeling than he'd ever had in a long time. At that moment, he wanted to hug her, but he knew that wouldn't be right. Even if he didn't crush her, ponies didn't just hug ponies they barely knew whenever they felt like it. "I-I kin carry loads," he mumbled, responding to her job offer. "I guess I kin learn t' build, too, but Arrow's better at it then I am."

"Oh, you don't need-" Rose said as Cross Stitch moved the mirror to get just the right angle for her to see herself in her new hat. He was really going the extra mile for her.It wasn't often Rose saw that level of professionalism in a shopkeeper. But then another customer opened the door and got Cross Stitch's attention, making him set the mirror down. Rose used her magic to make it float in front of her face, giving her a good view of the hat. It was beautiful and comfortable, everything she could have wanted out of it. Hopefully it wouldn't be too expensive, but for Cross Stitch, she felt like she could pay any price. That would have to wait until Cross Stitch was done with this gentleman here, though. Rose just stood to the side and watched them talk. Well, mostly she was watching Cross Stitch.

As the other ponies in the room talked among themselves, Inkwell kept alternating between drawing and filling the plates he brought along. One for himself, one for Rose, and one for Cross Stitch. The telekinetic load felt like he was trying to balance a trio of independently spinning plates on his horn, and soon he noticed how sloppy his drawing was getting as a result and gave up. It hadn't even occurred to him to join in with the conversation until he stopped, not that he considered himself capable of it in his current state. So he just focused on loading up the plates with a decent array of food so that he could deliver them already. It wouldn't do to be late, especially not at a formal event like this. "Sorry," he finally said to Douglas when he finished with the plates. "I don't think I will be finishing that drawing. It's far from my best work. But I will show you all the drawings of the models when they're done!" He smiled from ear to ear, anticipating how gorgeous those paintings would end up looking after he was done with them. "I'll see you later, then!" He walked out of the dining area and levitated the plates in front of him. As he left, he thought it might be against the rules to take food out of this area, and stopped to look back. But then he thought of Rose, who wouldn't think twice about bending the rules and would insist on him doing the same. That made him take a breath and resume his walk to the Tiki Bar.

Boxer looked away from Madame Bistro when she acted impressed and perhaps intimidated at his size. It was a reaction he was used to, really. Even in the rough and tumble slums of Beakbreak, he was a giant and a freak of nature. Once he learned to fight and fake a tough guy attitude, few wanted to mess with him at all. Not that he really wanted to be an object of fear or a big stick or anything like that. And here, well, it seemed like the ponies had no reason to fear him at all. "Evenin'," he mumbled, forcing himself to look into her eyes. "Yeh, we're new. Got 'ere yes'erday." He folded his ears back. "Fenks fer th' food." He looks over at the table and gingerly takes one of the pastries from it. His eyes light up when he tastes it, and he gets a bit of a smile on his face. "Mmm!"

Rose kept smiling and looking into Cross-Stitch's eyes until he looked away from her. She could tell that her comment had indeed gotten through to him, and embarrassed him as well. Maybe she did come on too strong, but at least he knew she was interested now. That was enough. For now she'd just stay friendly with him and get the hat she wanted from him. She saw him looking at one hat, momentarily freezing as he did when looking at her. This time, though, he seemed to look... sad? Regretful? Longing? Despite Rose's curiosity about the story behind that hat, she kept silent, letting him clear his head and present it to her. She had to admit, it looked pretty swanky, and the ribbon even matched her coat. With her magic, she took it and placed it on her head, turning it left and right a couple inches to secure it onto her head. It was nice and snug on her head. "I'm loving it so far," she said, looking up to the brim. Now all she needed was to see how it looked. "Do you have a mirror I can use?"

"Oh yeah," Inkwell said to Cross-Stitch when the earth pony asked what Rose said. "She said you were talented and polite and very friendly." Inkwell didn't tell him that she intended for him to be her eighth attempt at a stable relationship. That little tidbit he figured out for himself. He knew his sister well enough by now. "Oh, and, um it's not technically a hobby," he said, correcting Cross-Stitch. "I actually make a living off of commissions. I've done paintings, murals, and I'm especially good at inked illustrations for books. You can probably see a lot of my work in Bantamwing's books. He can't get enough of me for some reason." He let out a nervous chuckle before Cross-Stitch's stomach growled and his followed suit. "I'd love to, Cross-Stitch!" Rose said, looking pleased as punch to be spending more time with the designer. "But I think maybe we could all use something to eat, too. Maybe we could stop by the banquet hall?" "Actually," Inkwell said, "I think maybe I'll just go on to the banquet hall and bring you two some food from there. You two can go on to the Tiki Bar." "Alright," Rose said, stepping a bit closer to Cross-Stitch. Maybe too close. "Thanks for the consideration, Inky!" "Oh, no problem!" he replied. "I know how you get around buffets, and I don't think anypony wants to see you burst out of your outfit onstage!" Rose's expression instantly changed from cheer to horror. Her pupils shrank and her jaw dropped as she stared at Inkwell in complete disbelief. Did he... did he just call her fat in front of Cross-Stitch? He gave her an enormous grin. She'd embarrassed him enough times in front of friends and strangers before. It was only fair that he get to do the same once in a while. "Well, I'd better get that food! Bye!" He took off for the banquet hall before Rose could say anything to him. Instead, she settled for nervous laughter. "Wow, he's quite the kidder, isn't he?" she asked Cross-Stitch.

As a matter of fact, there was another bibliophile in the library, though she didn't feel the need to gather nearly so many books around her at the moment. Rose Madder just wanted to browse the fiction section and look for any gems that had escaped her notice, both actual gems and ironically-named gems, novels that were so incompetently put together that they served as a guide for what to avoid. She found a few books, mostly ones she expected to be in the former category, and carried them on her back to a table. An afternoon of quiet reading was ahead of her. But as she read the first chapter of a page-turning adventure romp, her eyes kept getting drawn to the stallion who'd practically buried himself in books. So when she finished the chapter, she shrugged and marked her place with a bookmark, then got up and peeked at all the open books. The thought didn't occur to her to talk to him about what he was reading. It was a library, after all.

Rose smiled right back at him. "Oh, thank you for saying so," she said, giving him a little flutter of her eyelashes. "I think so too, though I have to admit, it was a bit exasperating for me growing up. I lived in a neighborhood with a dozen other fillies named Rose, and I tell you, when ponies called our names, it was a headache." She laughed, downplaying her past irritation at being confused with her peers. It was a prime reason why she moved out of Trottingham and got a pen name. "You must have spent a lot of time designing this shop layout, too," she said, looking around the shop. "I bet you'll attract a lot of customers with all this eye candy." Right after she said it, Rose wondered if she was perhaps being too on the nose with that remark. After all, she was looking right at Cross-Stitch when she said it. At least she was looking him in the eye. "As for hats, well, I was hoping for something with a brim, but other than that I'm pretty open, as long as it looks good on me!"

Rose smiled and shrugged at the mention of her dress. Cross-Stitch still looked irresistible, and she found herself getting the familiar feeling of sugary, energetic attraction again. "Well, that's mostly because of the dress, I think," she said, waving him off like it was no big deal. "The dress and the genius who designed it!" She walked up to Cross-Stitch and looked him over. "You've dolled yourself up for this event too, I see! You look absolutely adorable!" "Hello!" Inkwell said, peeping out from behind Rose. "You must be Cross-Stitch! Rose told me all about you." Her ears folded back thanks to his sudden interruption. "Oh yes, I did, and I should probably introduce you two. Cross-Stitch, this is my brother, Inkwell." She gave Cross-Stitch a smile and nuzzled her head up against Inkwell's. "He's dolled up too, but not as a model. He'll be drawing all of the ponies onstage in all of their glorious new dresses and suits! You're not jealous, are you Inky?" She grinned and nudged him in the ribs. "Noooo," he said with a roll of his eyes. "I've got the perfect vantage point right where I am, thank you."

"Rose," she said. "Rose Madder." She moved her eyes back and forth from Cross-Stitch to a random piece of clothing on display and back again. "Yeah, this is already looking like one of the best clothes shops in the district." It was a rare occasion when Rose had to struggle with words, but here she was, looking at the floor, dragging her hoof, and blushing. Thankfully the hue on her cheeks was already red. She had to concentrate on hiding whatever feelings for him that she might be developing deep down, and possibly avoid commenting on how adorable he looked. True, he had a pretty mare-ish figure, but after Rose's last meathead boyfriend, she felt like a rather drastic change was in order. "So," she finally said. "I don't suppose you're a haberdasher as well? I've been feeling like wearing a hat to go along with a new haircut."

Inkwell didn't realize how hungry he'd gotten on the flight over to the Gallopocous Islands until he spotted the banquet for himself. From the doorway he looked over the spread, taking note about what sorts of dishes there were on the tables and looking for something that would suit him. He also needed to find something for Rose, too. She was hungry too, but thankfully she was considerate enough to agree to part ways with Inkwell. She would go to the bar for some liquid courage and he'd get food for the two of them. Given that Rose had a bottomless pit of a stomach, Inkwell didn't entirely trust her to maintain her figure for the whole tour. Thankfully there didn't appear to be very many fattening foods here. They were mostly based on fruit; Inkwell had yet to spot any cheese-based products in the room. After levitating a plate and putting a few pieces of fruit and canapes on it, he took another look at the table, then at a conversing mare and stallion next to it. Now that he thought about it, he hadn't done a still life in a while. He walked up next to the pair and got out his sketchbook. "Don't mind me!" he said, beginning his sketch.

Well, that was a suggestion Rose didn't see coming. Inkwell and Rainbow Dash, huh? She pondered it for a whopping five seconds before she found herself agreeing with Cat on the ridiculousness of the whole premise. Even if the confident, take-charge athlete did end up with the timid, sensitive artist, she couldn't imagine Inkwell enjoying the relationship for long. Though she pretended otherwise, Rose knew how much she tended to rub her brother the wrong way, and Rainbow Dash would most likely push exactly the same buttons with him. "Pfft. Good one, Cat. But you're right, I think I ought to be looking in a completely different direction. And probably leaving the two of you alone, too." She smiled and turned away, eager to leave the two lovebirds with the details of their new relationship, when that unpleasant, one-eyed mare spoke up and asked her about those dark magics from that earlier joke. Rose stared at her for a moment. Of all the ponies to take her claims of being an evil mastermind seriously, it had to be an actual evil mastermind? What could she say to that? "Well, actually..." An idea turned over in Rose's head, and she started to get a wicked grin on her face. "Actually, I don't share prime information with just anyone. For all I know you could be looking for a weakness in my plans, an opportunity to eliminate the competition. Buuut I suppose there is one lead I can share with the likes of you." Her eyes darted back and forth as she leaned in to whisper her 'secret' to Malediction. Why she felt so giddy, she didn't know. After all, Mal might seriously hurt her if she found out she was being taken for a fool. But wasn't that what she did with her work anyway? The only difference was that Mal was not yet in on the joke. "It concerns an artifact rumored to be hidden within the expanse of the Everfree Forest," she said. "It's an artifact dating back from before the reign of Celestia and Luna, before even Discord." Oh, this was so much fun! "Back then, there were cults dedicated to the worship of the dark god B'Zor, an unfathomable entity from beyond the fabric of reality. The slightest glimpse of its true form, a body that's at once exceedingly vast and impossibly small, everywhere and nowhere at once, is enough to warp a pony's mind forever. "Its followers almost destroyed the planet by summoning it to our plane of existence, but somepony stopped them at the eleventh hour. Somehow they killed B'Zor, and then they scoured the world for signs that it ever existed, for fear that if knowledge of its existence spread wide enough, it would rise again. I only managed to find out what I know through diligent scrying of the astral plane." With each sentence Rose spoke, she thought of what her next one would be, spinning them completely from scratch. "They were very, very thorough. But apparently they missed a spot. One of B'Zor's eyes landed in what would later become the Everfree Forest. Perhaps it was the catalyst for the forest's growth. Who knows? It's buried deep beneath the soil, sleeping, waiting for an enterprising practitioner of the black arts to find it. It offers knowledge beyond your wildest dreams... and the promise of oblivion." Rose tilted her head and gave Mal a little shrug. "Or so the legend goes, anyhow. I'm used to playing with fire, but honestly, that whole business is too big of a gamble for me. I'll stick to the black masses at midnight, personally."

Now, Rose wasn't normally sensitive to chatter in the library. She'd read a lot in bookstore cafes, and ponies were never really that careful about keeping their voices down when other ponies were reading their books around them. Rose was adept at blocking out white noise. At least, most of the time she was. But today it seemed that she couldn't focus on anything else. All she wanted to do was concentrate on the out-of-print collection of neofantasy short stories she was lucky enough to find here, and for some reason her thoughts kept drifting to the trio of ponies that walked in not half an hour ago. They weren't shouting down the halls or anything annoying like that, but in the stark silence of the library Rose's ears automatically focused on them, much to her chagrin. There were a pair of pegasus stallions and a unicorn mare, the latter of which was doing all of the browsing and research and library stuff. The guys just waited for her and shot the breeze, mostly consisting of one teasing the other about his attraction to the mare. That got a chuckle out of Rose, but since she was reading a tragic, heart-rending scene at the time, it served as one of the worst mood-killers she'd experienced that week. She slammed the book shut and levitated it into the air. If the library wasn't going to cooperate, she decided, then she was going to go elsewhere. Not that she needed to bother, as by the time she'd finished checking it out, the trio who'd disrupted her concentration was already set to leave, heading straight for the Wonderbolt Racetrack. Rose's hoof rubbed against her forehead. That's what she almost forgot to do today! If it weren't for these three, she wouldn't have remembered at all. And so Rose decided she might as well travel with them. "Wonderbolt Racetrack, you say?" she asked the other unicorn, walking up to her as if they were already well-acquainted. "Small world, I'm heading there too! I gotta get a first-hand account down for my friend Stormy. She's absolutely nuts about the track and never misses a showing, or at least not without coming down with the flu. So she practically begs me to see it by proxy." Rose rolled her eyes and smiled at her friend's rather persuasive arguments. "Who am I to say no to her?"

Near the rear of the carriage procession, a pair of unicorn siblings sat in backseat, taking in the sights of the ocean from hundreds of feet in the air. In all honestly, however, only one of them was truly paying attention. Inkwell found himself getting immersed in the glittering malachite sea, doing his best to capture every reflection of sunlight off the surface of the water. He didn't want to get too immersed, though, for fear of leaning out the window and losing some of his precious art materials to the ocean, or worse yet, himself! Rose Madder, on the other hand, barely looked out the window, since she was too busy fidgeting in her seat. She sported a huge, beaming grin that hurt the muscles in her mouth to maintain, but she was just too excited to care. "Inky!" she said, poking him on the shoulder. "Inky Inky Inky! We're almost there! Can you believe it?" She practically squealed as she saw the Gallopocous Islands coming up ahead. "Whoa, calm down, Rose!" he said, turning back and giving her a bemused look. It was hard for him to remember the last time he saw his cool and collected sister like this, losing her head over the chance to shine. "I didn't know this meant so much to you. What happened to that pen name business you were so invested in?" She blinked and tilted her head, adjusting the brim of her brand new straw hat. It was expertly crafted, with a few fabricated tropical flowers sewn right behind the brim. "Oh, that's for writing, silly," she said, brushing him off with a wave of her hoof. "Physical appearance shouldn't matter when it comes to the vibrancy of my imagination! But this is different! How can I possibly hide my appearance from the world with anonymity? That would defeat the whole purpose of modeling!" Inkwell shrugged. "Yeah, but-" "Uh uh!" Rose said, putting a hoof to Inkwell's mouth. "Not another word! They picked me for this! Me! Out of all the ponies out there, I was the best new mare they could find!" Her eyes widened as she looked up at the ceiling of the carriage, and Inkwell swore she could find stars in them. He'd have to remind himself to draw that expression later. "Just don't lose sight of what's important, okay? You're a writer above all else." Rose rolled her eyes as she felt the carriage starting to touch down. "Oh pih-shaw! This'll give me a lot of material! I haven't gotten a lot of practice describing clothes yet. Now hold on, we're about to touch down!" Their carriage landed, and Rose made her entrance, throwing the door open and striking what she imagined was an elegant pose, sporting a sundress with a dazzling tropical pattern. The thread of the fabric was expertly dyed with many more flowers and green leaves that popped against her red coat. She got that darling dress in a shop in Canterlot, newly opened and owned by an adorable earth pony named- "Cross-Stitch!" she said, spotting the dress's maker getting out of another carriage. "You made it!"

Arrow immediately lowered his muzzle into the bowl, fully intending to slurp up the soup as he had when he ate gruel back in Beakbreak, but a bop on the shoulder from Boxer knocked him off balance before he could even taste the stew. "Oy, wotchit!" Arrow said. He glared at Boxer as he pulled himself back up, and Boxer glared right back. The mighty stallion leaned down and delicately picked up the rim of the bowl with his teeth, pouring a small mouthful onto his tongue, then set it back down and smiled, one eye on Arrow the whole time. "Fine, fine, I getcha," Arrow said. He mimicked Boxer's movements and slurped a bit of the soup, immediately seeing why it was a good idea to eat the polite way. This was easily some of the best food he'd had in recent memory. It wasn't the best in his life, since he'd had the pleasure of sampling the wares of well-to-do ponies and griffons he'd stolen from. Now that was some amazing cooking, though sometimes it was just too complex and rich for his palate to take. Not to mention that after the first time he tried it when he was a wee colt, he avoided meat like the plague, and griffons loved to sneak meat and meat by-products into their meals whenever possible. That didn't keep him from stealing those meals anyway, as it helped to defer suspicion onto other griffons. This meal, on the other hand, tasted great, with just the right amount of salt, and none of those fancy herbs that made him retch. It was a simple, filling meal that tasted better than anything that was available on the Beakbreak streets. The two of them busied themselves with their food until Agate came back with bread. Boxer put his half-empty bowl down and gingerly reached for a slice. The sight of the butter and knife confused him a bit, though. He tilted his head and looked to Arrow for help. "Ah, right, see, Boxer ent used to vis 'ole butterin' fing. I be'er 'elp 'im out." He flapped his wings and flew above the table, tilting his head down to pick up the butter knife and spread butter on a pair of bread slices. It was a fairly mundane feat of dexterity by his standards, but he still put a lot of care into it, hovering silently over the table and spreading butter without so much as touching anything he didn't intend to. Once he got the bread sufficiently saturated, he took his seat again, as well as a small breather. "That we cer'ainly do, ma'am," Arrow said, looking Agate in the eyes and gave her his most charming smile. Well, his least repulsive smile, at any rate. Arrow had to admit it felt great to have a clean coat, though who knew how long it would stay that way. "An' it's right foughtful a' you t' assist us in settlin' in. Don' suppose you know anyone wit' a need fer mechanical aptitude?" The more Arrow thought about it, the more he was certain that this was the best bet he had for finding a new career path. He'd jerry-rigged a variety of little gizmos to help with his thievery, and he wasn't bad at legal gadgetry either. Still, that wasn't what the picture on his rump was about. Would he ever get to experience thrills like it again?

Arrow looked down at Max's hoof. It looked like it was only recently starting to undergo the wear and tear that he'd seen most ponies in his line of work punish their hooves with. No doubt he had plenty of coin to toss around wherever he pleased, with a herd of specialists looking after every single scratch or out-of-place hair. But that just raised the question of why he didn't have them sent down to Appleloosa with him so that he could maintain his appearance. Was he concerned about what the townsfolk would think of the act? Did he not want to pay the expenses? No, clearly this huckster was up to something, not that it was any of Arrow's business. He had to make a good impression on this bloke, so he took Max's hoof and gave a vigorous shake. "Pleasure ta meet yeh, Max!" he said, grinning like a fool and exposing yellowed teeth. "So I s'pose that makes yeh a new arrival like th' two've us, does it? I mean, ye ent got the 'ats or the accent, an' neiver do Boxer 'n I!" He pointed a hoof up at his pageboy hat and smirked. Boxer, meanwhile, figured that Arrow had got Maximilian well in hoof, so he decided to wander over to the main festivities, which was already in full swing. Some kind of band was playing unfamiliar music and many of the ponies danced unfamiliar steps. Where was he supposed to start with all of them? What could he talk about? How would he get to know them? He started to panic and hyperventilate, but he caught himself just in time, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. He could do this. He could make friends. With a glance, he picked out one mare who was looking at him and Arrow, the one with a visually pleasing, brown coat and a blanket across her hindquarters. The expression on her face didn't give Boxer much confidence, but she wasn't exactly terrified of them, either. That was promising! So he walked over to the little mare, only realizing how much taller he was when he was close enough to talk. "Uh..." He swallowed and took another deep breath. What would be the best thing to say to her? What did she want to hear? Perhaps a greeting and an introduction? Yes, that was what ponies normally did, wasn't it? "Hello," he said in a stilted and awkward monotone, staring straight at her with far too much intensity. "My name is Shadow Boxer. What is yours?"

After five years of living in the grand old city of Canterlot, Rose Madder started to get very, very familiar with a select few districts, especially the shopping zone nearest her house. It was a form of exploration to her, visiting each shop, chatting up the customers and shopkeepers and sometimes buying a souvenir or two. But once she started to run out of shops, she had to be content with repeat visits until new shops went up. She'd known of the Perfect Fit only a day before it actually opened, and since she wanted to get her writing for the day out of the way, she didn't scope it out at all until the actual opening day. But now she just had to come and see what it had to offer, and if it could convince her to buy any new clothing. Before she opened the door, she peeked inside the window, looking inside with one eye. Immediately she knew her time wasn't wasted when she saw the adorable proprietor. His expertly groomed coat, his dandy mane, his bright blue eyes, all of it made her grin like a little schoolfilly! If she'd known how handsome the storekeeper was, she would have brought a gift basket to welcome him to the neighborhood! As it was, the only thing she could do was sigh, fogging up the window and forcing her to move her head. She knew she couldn't stare at him forever, though. He'd notice and be put off by it. Since he appeared to be wrapping up with this customer, Rose decided she might as well make her entrance. She pushed the door open and sidled into the shop, doing her best to look like she could light up the place with a smile. "Hellooo!" she said to Cross Stitch. "I heard there was a new shop opening, so I thought I'd drop by and say hello!" Her eyes moved to the various items kept on display, including the odd hat or two. She could certainly use a hat, now that she thought about it. "Looks like you're making a great start so far!"

As embarrassing as it was to bathe with Arrow, Boxer had to admit that his friend was right, and that the bathing took less time when they worked together. When they left the bathtub, shaking themselves dry, they may not have been the nicest-smelling stallions around, but at least they were free of the slippery coat of sweat and its unpleasant funk. Boxer sniffed the air, smelling a delicious soup, and smiled, trotting down the hall and sitting himself at the dinner table. He grinned from ear to ear, looking so eager for a decent meal that he almost looked like a little colt. Of course, neither of them had seen many little colts back in Beakbreak act this polite or precocious in reaction to a good dinner. Arrow just sauntered in after Boxer, standing next to him at the table. He nodded at Agate and took a look at her cauldron. "Laws, miss, that ent a scent we e'er met afore, but I fink I speak fer both ovvus when I say I wish we 'ad. Wot're yeh brewin' there?"

The first pony to greet the pair of them was a polished and suave-looking unicorn with a gleaming white coat and flowing blonde mane. Arrow immediately identified him as a member of the upper crust, and old memories resurfaced. There were wealthy people in Beakbreak City, though they seldom looked quite as picturesque as this particular pony. All of them blended together in Arrow's mind, as he didn't so much get to know them as he got to know their homes, their private writings, and especially the hidey-holes where they kept all of their priceless valuables. He turned away from Max, but saw Boxer with his legs locked in place, eyes darting from face to unfamiliar face. Boxer wanted a new start here, and he was trying his best to get it. Arrow knew that Boxer would want the same from him, so he sighed and turned back to Max with a wide smile on his face. "As a matter o' fack, we stumbled inna town jus' yes'erday, mate," Arrow told Max, acting like he and the posh unicorn were already getting to be good buddies. "I'm Straight Arrow, an' mister strong an' silent o'er dere is Shadow Boxer." Arrow turned his head to Boxer, waiting for some sign of life. Boxer pursed his lips and nodded at Max. "'ello, guv," he said to Max, as quickly as he could. "That'll 'ave to do," Arrow said. He turned back to Max and smiled again. "I can tell you ent from round 'ere eever. You 'ere on business, or a personal 'oliday?" He repressed a snicker at the idea that anyone would visit a dry desert town like this for a vacation.

Agate continued to be friendly with Straight Arrow, and the pegasus could slowly feel himself relaxing. She meant every word, even though it was clear that he and Shadow Boxer made her ill at ease. "Yer a kind an' gen'rous soul, luv," he said, bowing his head to her a little. "We'd be 'appy t' share the guest room if'n the bed's big enough fer the both ovvus." He carefully finished drinking his lemonade and looked down at himself. Good grief, if he didn't still stink to high heaven! For reasons he didn't entirely understand, he didn't want any of his dirt and sweat staining Agate's home. "Oy, Boxer!" he called out in the direction of the bathroom. "En'cha done washin' yet? Iddun gotta be perfec', yeh know!" He heard the sounds of water sloshing in the bathroom, but after a few seconds it was clear that this wasn't a result of Boxer getting out of the tub. Arrow sighed. "'old on, looks like we two'll be sharin' a tub's well," he said, flapping his wings and hovering into the bathroom. When Boxer saw Arrow barge in, he folded his ears back and scooted back to the edge of the tub. "Arrow, what're yeh doin?" "Budge over, mate. This's takin' too long," Arrow replied, squeezing as much of himself into the tub as he could. This turned out to be not much at all. The two of them had to sit up to fit in, and the complete lack of personal space between the two of them made Boxer cringe. "'sides, we kin scrub each others' back vis way." Arrow grunted and scooted around, exposing his back to Boxer. "Yeh know the drill, Boxer. Git th' brush."

"Hmph, kent b'lieve yeh din't tell me 'bout this fing," Straight Arrow muttered. He glided through the air, his constant companion walking on the ground below him. "I tol' yeh, Arrow," Shadow Boxer replied, looking down the main street of Appleloosa for the building where this hoedown was supposed to take place. He didn't really remember the details of where it was going to happen, as the prospect of attending sounded scary and unappealing to him. So he forgot the details until he accidentally let it slip to Arrow later that evening. "I don' wanna be wiv crowds. There's gon' be crowds there!" "Ugh, this again?" Arrow asked, rolling his eyes and flapping his wings to regain altitude. "Yeh ent bein' very consisten', Boxer. Firs' yeh wanna introduce the two ovvus ta civilized pony socie'y 'n now yer all 'oh no, Arrow, don' make me do vis fing, dere's oodles a' funny-talkin' ponies wiv silly 'ats there, dey'll larf at meee!'" Both ponies wore gray pageboy hats, neither of them noticing the irony of the comment spoken in a broad riff on Boxer's deep voice. Boxer just grimaced and flattened his ears. "I'm tryin', right?" he snapped, "I know it's daft, but I kent 'elp it, mate, I jes' freeze up 'n panic!" His eye started to twitch with the stress. "Oy, calm down, mate," Arrow said, landing next to Boxer. "I'll be 'ere for yeh, jes' you wai'n see," he told Boxer, his voice softening to what he hoped was a soothing tone. "Deep breafs, mate. Deep breafs." The two of them walked together until they finally came across the center of the town, where the ponies of Appleloosa appeared to be dancing, playing music, and laughing it up. Neither of the two recognized any member of the crowd. The one pony that they'd met before, Agate Pie, appeared conspicuous in her absence, though perhaps she was just blending in. It didn't matter much to Arrow. He smiled, moved stray hair out of his face, and walked up to the hoedown. Boxer took a deep breath, like Arrow had suggested, and followed him in. "'ello!" Arrow called out to the nearest merrymaker. "You lot got room fer two more?"

Boxer was on the way to the washroom when Agate poured her glasses of lemonade. He turned back to look at her and nodded, reversing his course and going into the living room again. Blimey, the furniture in here was small. If he wasn't careful, he'd knock it over or break it. He and Arrow both took the edge of their glasses into their mouths and tilted the drink back. Boxer didn't realize until he had the lemonade just how stale and full of minerals the water they drank on their trip to Appleloosa was. Could normal ponies even stand water like that? Boxer could, but only because he didn't know there were better alternatives. Not until now. The kick of the sweet and sour lemonade made his eyes light up. He drained the glass in a few quick gulps and smiled wider than he had in weeks, exposing a mouthful of crooked, pitted teeth. He gave Agate a quick salute, then walked back into the washroom, no longer walking as if he feared tripping on his own hooves. Arrow took his lemonade at a much more leisurely pace, sipping it and enjoying the flavor. "Oi'd say 'e's roight fond of it," he commented to Agate. "Kent say Oi blame 'im." He looked at the ice Boxer had left in his glass. Not that he'd make a big fuss of it, but a nice cold drink was just what he could have used. He wanted one in Bareback Gulch, but Boxer had put his hoof down and insisted they save their meager holdings for more productive things. Thankfully they ended up getting a free one here, non-alcoholic though it might have been. Arrow set his half-full drink down and poured Boxer's ice into it. "Oi 'eard business was boomin 'ere," he said. "Well 'nough fer new employment opportuni'ies. Did Oi 'ear roight?"

Normally Arrow would have just barged past the door without much of a second thought, but something was very different about this mare. She clearly didn't find the thought of letting the two of them into her house pleasant, and yet that's exactly what she did. What was in it for her? What was her angle? Arrow couldn't think of a reason for it, but there had to be one. For now, though, he wouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth. "Well, Oi guess we c'd partake of somefink ovver den hardtack fer once," he said. "Dough ye moight wanna show us to de loo first, roight?" Despite those words of caution, Arrow took a step inside Agate's doorway, then another. Soon he found himself in her house, and very nearly wiped himself off whatever he could find. But then some words of Boxer's popped into his head. His friend had told him that they needed to start anew, make good bonds with the ponies they found outside, and not get in trouble with the law. As much as Arrow didn't like having to to that, he hated disappointing Boxer even more. So he had to stop himself from casing her living room. He forced his eyes on hers instead of any potential valuables she had sitting around. A part of him balked at the notion of restraint and urged him to stop humiliating himself, but then he remembered Boxer, and saw that Boxer hadn't come in yet. "She ent gonna 'urt us, mate," Arrow called out to him. "Don' jus' stan' dere, swelterin' in the sun loik dat!" Boxer blinked and nodded, taking a breath and walking inside the friendly mare's house. Once he made it inside, he mouthed his thanks to the generous stranger, unable to voice his appreciation for her hospitality.

Perhaps it would have been wise for Arrow to consider his appearance before knocking on the door of a civilized pony. He couldn't do very much about his ugly face, but he could have done something about the sand in his pelt, which was already slick with sweat from the desert. The mare who answered the door looked shocked to see the both of them standing at her door. Arrow stared at her, then thought he ought to defuse the tension before it turned into fear. "Roight. Er, 'ello, luv," he said, looking awkward. He had a hard time looking this mare in the eye, but at least he could do it. Boxer had chosen to stand directly behind Arrow, as if he believed that Arrow's skeletal frame could hide him. "I'm Straight Arrow, and this 'ere lump's Shadow Boxer," he said, glancing behind him. "'lo," Boxer mumbled. "We jus' walked 'ere all t'way from Bareback Gulch, an' as y'kin see, we're roight knackered." Arrow brushed some sweat of his foreleg. "If ye'd be so kind as ta show us where we moight rest up, we'd be well 'n truly grateful."

A hulking figure trod steadily across the Painted Pinto Desert, ignoring the ache in his muscles. He paused to brush his mane out of his head and the sweat out of his eyes. The newly renamed Shadow Boxer had walked for what seemed to be an eternity, and truth be told, he was getting sick of it. When he first started, he welcomed the endless hike, because the alternative was living in a decrepit hellhole of a city, having to sleep with one eye open if he wanted to see the sun again. Trudging through the open terrain of Roughrider Ridge, where there was no place for any assassin to hide, was a welcome relief for him. Not even the grumbling and bad attitude of his companion, Straight Arrow, could dampen his resolve. Straight Arrow wasn't grumbling now, though. He was laying on Boxer's back, his limbs hanging limply around Boxer's sides. As it turned out, Arrow was far less capable of enduring the elements, and so he would spend half the journey on Boxer's back. Boxer had to carry him as well as a ragged pair of saddlebags laden with food, water, and bits. The burly earth pony somehow managed that task, though he would probably lose muscle weight as a result. "Uuuugh," the passenger on his back moaned, The unflinching heat of Celestia's sun had made it impossible for him to nap any longer. Boxer turned to look at Arrow, showing great concern on his face. "You awroight, mate?" he asked. Arrow smiled and lifted his head to look at Boxer, giving it the slightest little nod. "Yeah, roight," he said. "Jus' gimme a... just gimme it." He lowered his head back down, resting it against Boxer's thick flank. Boxer sighed and stopped, nudging Arrow in the back again. "Want some wa'er?" he asked. He got a raspy laugh from Arrow in return. "Nah, yer keep it, right. I en' so bad." Boxer frowned and nudged Arrow again, harder than before. "Yer a black liar, mate. Yeh could blow away inna chuffin' wind roight now, yeh could!" "Eh, stow it, yeh stubborn git," Arrow muttered. "Yeh need it more'n Oi do." That wouldn't do at all. Boxer stopped in his tracks and leaned left, sliding Arrow off onto the sand. The pegasus grunted and groaned when he hit, then slowly got to his hooves. He grimaced and winced, stretching out the wing he landed on. "Wha's the big oidea, yeh bloody idjit!" he shouted, now fully awake. Breathing in the dry air made him cough furiously, interrupting what might have been a full-blown tirade. Boxer simply frowned and took off his saddlebags, pulling a full canteen out of one of the side pockets. It was still a little cold, thankfully. "We got an 'oole canteen lef'," he said, tossing it at Arrow. "Plen'y for boff of us." Arrow caught the bottle in his teeth, glowering at Boxer, and took a few swigs of the water. After a few seconds, he held it out for Boxer to drink from. "Yer turn," he said. The canteen was drained to half its initial capacity and replaced. After a few more minutes, Boxer got his bags back on. "Need anovver roid, mate? Or kin yeh take off an' carry yehself this toim?" Instead of answering, Arrow spread his wings and flew high into the air, approaching the level where clouds might have been were he not in a desert. He looked around and spotted a wooden building or two in the distance. No, wait, it was far more than two. "Ey! Oi fink oi see it!" he cried out. Boxer looked up, squinting and shielding his eyes with a hoof. "Where?" "There!" Arrow pointed slightly to the left of where Boxer was going before. Boxer peered into the distance, but he could barely see anything, just a speck or two. "Yeh sure it's Appleloosa?" he asked. "Iss a bloody town, sure as Oi'm flyin' 'ere!" Arrow shouted. "Le's get a move on, mate!" Without a word Arrow sped off to the town as fast as his overheated body could take him. Before Arrow could vanish over the horizon, Boxer groaned and galloped after him. His muscles strained and ached, protesting their owner's last push before the end of his journey. Soon enough, he could see that Arrow had been right. They had indeed reached the frontier town of Appleloosa. He'd been right after all. It was a much bigger and more reputable-looking place than Bareback Gulch had been. No matter what Arrow said, they made the right decision to press on for a better home. "Foinally made it," Boxer said as he panted to recover from the sudden sprint. "Roight you are mate, roight you are," Arrow said, touching down next to him. "Now what?" Good question. It was an unseasonably hot day, and not many ponies wanted to spend their time outdoors in this weather. Likely they were all cooped up in their houses and doing whatever work they could do outside. Boxer didn't feel like searching outside for one of the few who could stand the heat, so he looked around for a suitable house to solicit. Arrow caught on rather quickly and walked over to the nearest house, knocking on the door himself. He knew that Boxer wouldn't be able to talk to any of these strange new ponies. As per usual, it would be up to Arrow to be the public face of the duo. He rapped his hoof against the door. "Oi!" A few more knocks, just to be sure. "Oi! Anybody home?" ((This is open to any Appleloosa characters who want to interact with these two. Let's just say the first pony to enter the thread is the owner of the house they knocked on the door of!))