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The Meaning of a Mark
Sweetie Belle woke slowly to the sound of distant hooves on wood, bird-song and Scootaloo rattling the treehouse with her snoring. The little filly grumbled, rolling over under the shared blanket and jabbed Scootaloo in the kidneys. It made no particular difference to the volume but it made her feel better. A moment later a wing caught her across the nose and Scootaloo grumbled in her sleep and Sweetie let out a surprised squeak, leaping up onto her hooves.
“Scootaloo!” she squeaked, shaking herself. “Urgh... we need to get another blanket.”
With dainty steps she picked herself out of the pony pile, over a still slumbering Applebloom then one of Winona's squeaky toys and finally a model train before making it to the Clubhouse window. Celestia’s sun was just creeping over the mountaintops, bathing Sweet Apple Acres in golden light and heralding the start of another new day. Judging by the approaching crack of Applejack’s hooves the trio were due a wake-up call any second. Applejack wouldn't give allowances for a late night, no matter how well earned their celebration.
Sweetie’s ears snapped ramrod straight as the reason for the impromptu sleepover came rushing back. A snatched look back at her flank confirmed that it hadn’t just been some wonderful dream—again—and that there really was a shiny, brand new cutie-mark on her hip.
“Eeee...” she stuffed a hoof in her mouth as her squee threatened to go ultrasonic. She pranced in place, struggling not to just jump around in joy “Yes, yes, yes, yes! It happened, it really, really happened. I have a cutie-mark, I have a cutie-mark and this one won’t wash off!” she sung to herself.
It was perfect. Oh sure, the Crusaders had always hoped that they’d get a mark for the same thing, or at least at the same time, or for tallents that would at least let them stay together. Actually, there had been some rumblings that maybe, just maybe that it was the hunt for something shared that had been holding them back, but now she had undeniable proof that Scootaloo had been wrong. Their collective cutie-marks exceeded Sweetie Belle’s wildest dream. They had the same shield, the same blend of colours and the same pink and purple colours on their own symbols.
Sweetie snuck back over to her friends, just to make sure neither of them had been humouring her with a fake mark or anything crazy like that. Well, not that crazy, Applebloom had tried to cheat before. Luckily, this time everything was just as she remembered it and Sweetie Belle had to bite down another squee.
Their marks were perfect! Scootaloo had a lightning bolt laid over a wing, not that she’d let anypony forget about the bolt and its similarity the Rainbow Dash’s. Enthusiasm aside, it fit her to a T. Speed, flight, awesomeness, radicalness and coolness—Sweetie maintained those were the same thing but apparently Rainbow Dash knew better—the cutie-mark represented all the best parts of her fiercest friend.
Applebloom’s was the same, a pink heart laid over a purple apple. Well the apple was always going to be on her mark. Even if their deep sea diving escapade had worked properly Sweetie Belle had expected Applebloom to have an apple somewhere on her flank. The heart was equally obvious, a perfect fit for the most passionate filly Sweetie Belle knew.
And on her own flank there was... Well...
Sweetie Belle sat down heavily, twisting her shoulders to get a proper look at the mark on her flank. A musical note on top of a star.
What the hay was that supposed to mean?
“Come on little fillies, time’s awastin’!” Applejack called over her shoulder as she led the procession into town.
“Uff, it's too early to be that happy,” Scootaloo groused, rubbing her eye with a fetlock. She was not a morning pony by any definition of the word.
“Hey, we’re not fillies any more!” Apple Bloom protested, trotting to catch up with her sister. “We’re big ponies now.” She craned her neck to try and gain some height, but still only came up to Applejack’s chin.
“Sure you are, sugarcube.” Applejack tussled her hair. “Though Ah hope you’ve got a bit of growing still to come. Still, get along little ponies school don’t end just because you got your cutie-marks. Ah’m sure your friends will want to hear all about ‘em.”
“Most of them were there for it,” Scootaloo muttered.
Applejack just smirked. “Like that’ll stop them. No pony’s ever been shy about listening to a cutie-mark story and whoo-wee have you girls got one to tell. You fillies are going to be the talk of the schoolyard, Ah guarantee it.”
Scootaloo brightened. “Oh yeah! And we get to rub our butts in Diamond Tiara’s face.”
Applejack shot her a dirty look and opened her mouth but Apple Bloom interrupted first.
“Scoots, Diamond Tiara is our friend now. You’re not rubbing anything against her face.”
“Come on,” Scootaloo whinned. “It's been my dream for like, a year and a half. I reckon we’ve got at least some payback saved up even if she is good now.”
“That’s not how it works!”
Applejack facehooved behind the pair. “And here was Ah thinking they’d calm down,” she muttered to herself. “Shucks, just goes to show there’s some things cutie-marks can’t change.”
“There are?”
Applejack startled, suddenly finding Sweetie Belle stood right next to her. “Huh? Oh, Sweetie Belle, you’ve got quiet hooves this morning.”
“What do you mean things won't change?” Sweetie pressed. “I thought having a cutie-mark was supposed to be super important.”
“Oh, shoot, sugar. Ah didn’t mean that nothing will change...” Applejack drummed her hooves for a moment. “Hay, a pony’ll remember getting their cutie-mark for the rest of their lives. Aint every day you figure out your purpose. It's just... well, you’re still Sweetie Belle, ain’t you? A cutie-mark’s like a tree’s first apple, it don’t mean that it's a whole new tree.”
Sweetie Belle cast a look at her flank and frowned. That was the problem. What was a star and music note even supposed to mean anyway. She glanced at Applejack’s cutie-mark, a familiar trio of three bright red apples.
“Applejack, what does your cutie-mark mean?”
The question seemed to take Applejack back for a moment. “Pardon? Oh come on now, Sweetie Belle, Ah’ve told you that story before. Went to Manehattan to find myself, saw a rainboom and realised it my place was home all along.”
Sweetie pursed her lips. “Yeah, I remember. What does it mean, though? Like, are you really good a picking red apples? Or, do you get three times more apples from a tree than Big Mac? Oh, is it something simple like your favorite colour, or–”
“Whoa there Sweetie, don’t go running ahead.” Applejack put a hoof on her mouth to still the babble. “It just means that Ah’m an Apple, see.” She pointed at the trio of apples. “One, two, three apples all in a row. Big Mac, Apple Bloom and me all together as we should be. It means my place is on Sweet Apple Acres working the farm like my mammy and pappy.”
“That’s it?” Sweetie blinked, staring at her. “That seems... simple.”
Applejack snorted. “Oh Sweetie, don’t worry about it. Twilight would probably have some long lecture about the magic of marks for you, but Ah promise you that when it comes to cutie-marks you just have to follow your heart. You wouldn’t have got it if you didn’t know what it was for, after all. Now let's get moving, last time Ah let Scootaloo and my sister get out of sight on the way to school they wound up stuck in a rain barrel.”
She set off at a trot, hurrying to catch up with the still bickering pair. Sweetie Belle spared another glance at her flank before rushing after her. Maybe she was just overthinking it. The coloured parts of the shield were clearly there to represent her friends, just like Applejack’s apples represented her family. Although, Applejack’s wasn’t exactly that blatant and didn’t have anything like a shield.
Come to think of it, why did the apples have to represent Applejack’s family? Maybe she was a tree whisperer, like Fluttershy with her animals. Wouldn’t that make more sense than three apples when Applejack was from a family of four ponies last Sweetie Belle checked?
Biting her lip, Sweetie looked up at Applejack turning over another battery of question in her head. The farm-pony looked so sure of herself, though, and the jumble of words died on her lips. Before she work up the nerve the familiar sight of the schoolhouse was looming large ahead of them and already she could hear the fillies and colts cooing over Apple Bloom and Scootaloo.
“Applejack, what if a pony didn’t really understand their mark?” she asked, in a very small voice.
“Oh don’t worry Sweetie Belle. Ah know how you feel, you’ve got a new path out in front of you and that’s a scary thing. You don’t have to worry your pretty little head about a thing. There ain’t never been a pony alive who didn’t understand their cutie-mark.” She smiled and nudged Sweetie towards the schoolyard. “Now, get along or you’re going to be late.”
Sweetie swallowed the lump in her throat and broke into an anxious canter. There was already a large crowd of fillies clustered around her fellow Crusaders who seemed to be fielding questions from all comers. Perhaps, if she was particularly quiet, she could dodge the whole ‘cutie-mark’ question until lunchtime by making it into class before anypony saw her.
Hanging a sudden left Sweetie aimed for a section of collapsed fencing—there was an ongoing argument as to whether Applejack or Rarity were going to pay for the damages, although Sweetie insisted it had actually been Scootaloo's fault—and leapt. She cleared the low bar and failed the landing, plowing face first into the long grass.
“There she is!” Scootaloo exclaimed, and there was a small stampede as the small herd of children rushed over to her.
Sweetie winced, stumbling to her hooves as the crowd swallowed her.
“Finally, I thought you’d gotten lost,” Apple Bloom exclaimed, grabbing Sweetie by the shoulders and dragging her into the very centre where Scootaloo was still preening under the antention. “See, this is what I was telling y'all about. A matched set of cutie-marks!”
She and Scootaloo beamed, proudly displaying their hips for all to see. Forcing a smile, Sweetie followed suit, her eyes darting nervously around the crowd.
“Yeah, aren’t these just the most awesome things you’ve ever seen! It means we’re going to be friends forever,” Scootaloo continued in a rush. “And look, I’ve got wings on these babies. That means I’m finally going to be a flyer!”
The gathered children ‘ooo’ed on cue.
“Well mine’s an apple,” Apple Bloom cut back in. “Means I’m both part of my family and your friend. See, it’s even got a heart on it because I’ve got a big enough heart for all y'all.” She smiled even wider, grabbing Sweetie and Scootaloo and dragging them into a group hug.
“Belgh!” Scootaloo gagged. “Stop getting all mushy on me. These marks are radical and awesome and you’re not taking that away from me.”
Sweetie slipped out of the hug, trying her best to fold in on herself and disappear.
“What’s yours for, Sweetie Belle?” Twist cut in, suddenly. In an instant a hundred eyes zeroed in on Sweetie Belle and the little filly shuddered.
“Oh, well. I was... I mean it– If you think about it...”
“Oh come on, Twist,” Scootaloo cut off Sweetie Belle’s nervous babble and put a hoof on her whitters. “Its obvious, it means she’s going to be a singer. Well, probably, I still say that I did pretty well at the talent show.”
Apple Bloom smirked. “Nopony else does.”
“I don’t really like singing in front of crowds,” Sweetie murmured, cocking her tail over her flanks.
“Ooo! Ooo!” Snips exclaimed. “She’s going to be a Bridleway Star, that’s what it means!”
“Well... I guess I do like musicals.” Sweetie shuddered. “But, um, there’d be a lot of ponies–”
“Don’t be stupid,” Scootaloo shot back. “If she went all the way to Manehattan then she wouldn’t be with us.”
Sweetie gulped. “Oh yeah...”
“I want to know about the shield,” another filly cut in, Sweetie didn’t see who. “Does that mean you’re all joining the guards?”
“Guards?” Sweetie Belle echoed, a sudden horrifying image of herself crushed under a thousand pounds of golden armour flashed through her head.
“What?” Apple Bloom exclaimed. “No, we’re not guards. It's the Cutie Mark Crusader shield!”
Sweetie Belle breathed a sigh of relief. If there was one thing she was absolutely sure of, she was never becoming a guard.
“Wait, wait, wait.” Scootaloo reared up. “What if we are? Twilight’s gonna’ have a Friendship Guard at some point, we could do that! I can totally feel my cutie calling me that way.”
“No way!” Sweetie Belle squeaked. “We can’t be guards—” She glanced back at the extremely prominent shield on her flank. “—Can we?” She looked around desperately for somepony to object, but if anything the fillies and colts just seemed even more enthused by the idea. Over by the school house she saw Cheerilee looking on and turned her best pleading eyes onto the teacher.
“Hmm, maybe...” Apple Bloom began, rubbing her chin. “What we need is–”
“Okay now, my little ponies!” Cheerilee called out suddenly, ringing the school bell. “You’ll have plenty of time to play after class. Come on, it's time for school.”
There was a chorus of groans but, as a single mass the herd of ponies made their way into the school house and Sweetie Belle breathed a deep sigh of relief.
“Today we’ll be having an lesson on matched cutie-marks throughout history.”
Sweetie Belle facehooved.
Class passed slower than usual, and not just because the Pinwhistle twins and their matched marks in musical theory. Cheerilee never clamped down too hard on ponies gossiping in class, as long as they kept their notes up to date and their minds on the lesson. Under normal circumstances Sweetie found that a mixed blessing, tending to bad depending on the Diamond Tiara’s mood of the day. With every iota of attention the class possessed focused on the Crusaders, however, the clock seemed to tick slower and slower with every passing comment.
From a small sample it seemed like the class were expecting everything from the Crusaders forming a cutie-mark support group to setting up a space programme. She war fairly sure that last one had drifted across the class form Snails, so probably nopony was taking the suggestion seriously, but it that didn’t make it any less scary. Sweetie’s eyes drifted back to her flank for the umpteenth time and she shuddered, biting her lip and tried to force herself to focus on the chalkboard.
The worse part was, despite terrible, terrible ideas—Why would moster hunting even be an option?—Sweetie Belle found it hard to deny any of them. Sure, being a guard would be a nightmare, but if Scootaloo was really feeling a pull towards it maybe it was for the best. It would be better than having to sing at least, and if there was one part of her cutie-mark she was absolutely sure she understood it was that the musical note was emphatically not for singing solo.
The clanging of the lunch bell startled her out of her whirling thoughts. With a sinking feeling Sweetie noticed the sudden explosion of new notes on the board and began to scribble them down furiously as the rest of her classmates made a break for the door. Her horn sparks as she tried to keep her pencil under control.
“Oh, Sweetie Belle,” Cheerilee interrupted, in her usual sing-gong lilt. “Aren’t you going out for a bite to eat.”
Sweetie felt her ears fold flat and cursed the treacherous appendages. “Just a minute,” she murmured, scrawling another line.
“Sweetie, you’ve been lost in your head all day,” Cheerilee continued. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Just... tired. It was a long day yesterday.”
Cheerilee pursed her lips, but didn’t say anything. Sweetie finished writing and set down her quill. Nervously tapping her hoof on the desk she looked up at her teacher.
“Miss Cheerilee,” she began after a long moment. “What does your cutie-mark mean?”
“Oh? Well I’m sure I’ve told you that before, Sweetie Belle.” Cheerilee smiled, shuffling to expose her flank. “The flowers symbolise hope for my students to bloom and the smiles–”
“But how do you know if that’s right? Like, what if those flowers are actually sunflowers, would you know?”
Cheerilee's smile went glassy in an instant. “Oh, um, well that’s an interesting question there Sweetie Belle. Most ponies... well they find it easy to understand their cutie-mark.”
“Did you?” Sweetie pressed, a plaintive lilt creeping into her void.
“I, ah, yes well I–” Cheerilee rubbed her head with a fetlock.
“Am I interrupting?”
Cheerilee whirled, saw the pair of fillies in the doorway and breathed a deep sigh of relief. “Oh, Diamond Tiara! What can I do for you?”
Diamond Tiara raised an eyebrow but seemed to decide it wasn’t worth digging into. “Silver Spoon and I were wondering if Sweetie’s coming outside, her friends are all waiting for her.”
Sweetie swallowed, maybe if she volunteered to clean the blackboard or something Cheerilee would let her stay inside for lunch.
“That sounds wonderful, Diamond Tiara,” Cheerilee said, beaming. “Come along, Sweetie Belle, this is no day to spend inside. Get out there and enjoy yourself, and just remember that there’s nothing to worry about. A cutie-mark will always lead you true.”
A long sigh escaped Sweetie Belle. “Okay...” She dragged herself to her hooves as she made her way over to the door.
“Yeash dork, what’s wrong with you today?” Diamond Tiara shook her head, and half dragged Sweetie Belle out of the schoolhouse.
“Diamond, you asked me to remind you when you were being mean again,” Silver Spoon sighed, shooting the filly a pointed look.
“Dork is mean?” she exclaimed, as she lead the trio across the playground. “Oh come on! Well what do I call her then?”
Sweetie Belle pouted. “You could call me by my name,” she muttered.
“Come on, I was jerking you around,” Diamond groused. “I’m good now, remember?” A pair a sceptical looks greeted her. “Really, girls? I stood up to my mother for you ponies. Do you have any idea how many years I’m ground for for making her look bad in public?”
Silver Spoon snorted. “You’ll have your dad let you off the hook in a week tops.”
“True, true.” Diamond Tiara smirked. “Still, I’m super grounded now so I get to milk it. You know what that’s like, eh Sweetie Belle?” She elbowed her in the ribs and Sweetie let out an incoherent grunt.
“Nothing?” Diamond paused, grabbing Sweetie Belle by the foreleg and spinning her around. She squinted at her for a long moment, and Sweetie tried to duck out of her gaze. “Yeash, what’s eating you today? Its the day after the best day of your life, you’re supposed to be happy. Look at the other Blank—”
“Ahem.” Silver Spoon frowned at her.
“—I mean Crusaders, they’re having the time of their lives.”
A lead weight seemed to settle in Sweetie Belle’s stomach as she looked over to the other Crusaders. The pair had acquired a Pinkie Pie somewhere and were laughing up a storm, occasionally stopping to show off their cutie-marks as if to demonstrate a point. Sweetie felt her tail hitch up to cover her flank.
“Um, Diamond Tiara,” she began. “What do your cutie-mark mean?”
Diamond froze. “What?” She cocked her head, staring at Sweetie Belle as if she was checking for a changeling. “Sweetie Belle, the whole reason you got yours, was because you helped me understand mine. How can you not know?!”
Sweetie Belle shrank in on herself, tears prickling in the corner of her eyes. “I...”
“Diamond Tiara,” Silver Spoon snapped, putting a hoof on the fillies withers. “Mean.”
Diamond Tiara brushed her off. “Its called tough love, Silver Spoon.” She let out a frustrated huff. “But fine, if you want to know it means... Well, I tells me that I’m supposed to be in charge. It’s a royal tiara as well as this thing.” She tapped her eponymous tiara. “It means I’m a good leader. Hard as diamond, a brilliant leader and, of course, beautiful and beneficent to boot.”
Both Sweetie and Silver Spoon stared at her for a beat.
“Beneficent?” Silver Spoon sighed, shaking her head.
“Brilliant leader?” Frowning.
Diamond scowled at them. “Okay, fine. I haven’t always led ponies in the right direction, but you can’t deny I know how to lead. I took a school paper national, got a playground built in an afternoon and to top it off made you Crusaders the most popular fillies in school over a weekend.”
Sweetie and Silver shared a look. It made sense at the very least. More so than Applejack’s, miles more than Sweetie Belle’s perplexing cutie-mark. Still, Sweetie two weeks ago Sweetie Belle would have bet every bit to her name (six... seven if Opal ever spat up the coin she’d swallowed) that Diamond’s mark was for acting like a spoiled little princess.
“What about you, Silver Spoon?” Sweetie continued, turning to the grey filly.
“Me?” she said, startled. “Oh, well isn’t not very interesting really.” She shuffled her hooves as she looked back at her spoon shaped mark. “It's my name and, well, my family have been silversmiths for generations. It means that I’m going to follow in the family hoofsteps, like everypony has before me forever and ever and ever.” She let out a long sigh.
Sweetie frowned at her. Could a cutie-mark really be that simple? She opened her mouth for another question but Diamond got there first.
“Okay, that’s more than enough of that!” Diamond snapped, putting a foreleg over her friend. “What is the matter with you today?”
“Hey, Sweetie!” Apple Bloom hollered from the fence. “Are you coming or not, our sisters are meeting us at Sugarcube Corner for lunch!”
“Coming!” Sweetie shot back. “I guess...” She shook herself. “See you later girls.”
Diamond Tiara let out a huff. “Just stop being so broody, if you can’t say something happy, don’t say anything at all.”
“Diamond, mean,” Silver Spoon said with a long suffering sigh.
“What? No way, that’s basic decency!”
As the pair descended into a row Sweetie beat a hasty retreat, more confused than ever before.
“Oh, and extra rainbow sprinkles!” Scootaloo concluded with a flourish.
“Okie dokies,” Pinkie Pie cheered, bouncing in place even as she scrawled down the order. “That’s two apple milkshakes. A rainbow swirl. A rainbow swirl with extra sprinkles. A latteee for Rarity and a vanilla milkshake. I’ll be back in two shakes of a fillies tail.” Leaving behind a faint pink blur she whizzed away into Sugarcube Corner’s kitchen.
Scootaloo frowned and twitched her tail twice. She seemed somewhat surprised when it didn’t summon Pinkie Pie back with their order.
“Thanks for lunch, Sis,” Apple Bloom chirped, pressing up against Applejack who just smiled and tousled her hair.
“Yeah, thanks,” Scootaloo mirrored her with Rainbow Dash. “If I’d know getting a cutie mark would get us free food I would have tried ten times harder.
Rarity, Applejack and Dash shared a mutual look of horror.
“I’m not sure Equestria would have survived that, darling.”
“Oh come on, we’re not that bad,” Scootaloo protested. There was whoosh and suddenly their drinks arrived. “Although, if we get free food every time maybe we could look into getting another–”
“No!” the girls yelled, along with Pinkie Pie behind the counter, Lyra and Bon Bon a table over and pretty much every other pony in the restaurant.
Scootaloo looked around confused. “What?”
“Just, stick to one cutie-mark, Squirt,” Rainbow Dash said with a sigh, pressing a hoof to her head. “You’ve got more than enough awesome for one pony.”
“I for one vote for never speaking Fancy again,” Apple Bloom added.
“Oh well, guess I’ll just have to settle,” Scootaloo began with a smirk. “For being a totally awesome stunt pony, Wonderbolt, scooter racing Cutie-mark Crusader!”
Sweetie blanched. “All of those things?” she exclaimed, then clapped her hooves over her mouth. “I mean, sorry.”
“Oh yeah, totally,” Scootaloo said, leaning back in her seat with her hooves behind her head. “Now we’ve got our cutie-marks its going to be smooth sailing. I’ll be flying, Apple Bloom will be bucking apples and Sweetie will be singing for the whole town.”
“I really don’t like singing in public!” Sweetie squeaked, trying to fold herself as small as possible in her seat.
Scootaloo chuffed. “Come on, Sweetie Belle. You’ve got a music note on your flank and you’re a singer. It's not complicated.”
“But what if I don’t what to be a singer?” Sweetie continued in a rush, her breath coming in sudden frantic bursts. “Music notes mean a lot of things. How do you know your wing means you’re going to be a flyer? Rainbow Dash is the fastest pony alive and she doesn’t have a wing on her flank.”
Hey! We’ve both got bolts,” Scootaloo shot back, spreading her wings defensively. “That makes us both totally awesome. I can feel it.”
Sweetie blanched, trying and failing to swallow the lump in her throat. Her eyes snapped back to her cutie-mark which sat silent on her flank, mocking her with its very presence. There were tears pooling at the corners of her eyes again, even as she tried to blink them away.
“Sweetie Belle, what is wrong?” Apple Bloom interrupted, frowning at her. “You’ve been jumpy all day.”
“Nothing is wrong!” she protested, desperately. “I just don’t understand why. Like, why’s Rainbow Dash’s cutie-mark about speed? Why doesn’t it mean that she’s really good with lightning bolts and rainbows?”
“For the record, I am totally awesome with those,” Rainbow Dash said, with a smug grin. There was a thunk as Applejack kicked her under the table. “Hey!”
Rarity pulled Sweetie into a hug. “Oh Sweetie Belle, don’t worry yourself. Cutie-marks aren’t something a pony is supposed to take literally.”
Sweetie blinked. “But... but... but that makes even less sense!” she exclaimed. “How’s anypony supposed to know what their cutie-mark means if it doesn’t even have to be obvious? What about Pinkie Pie?” She pointed at the mare who was still darting between tables, taking orders. “Her cutie-mark is balloons, but balloons don’t have to have anything to do with parties. What if it means she’s got a really high pitched voice or bursts if you prick her with a pin?”
“I’m gonna’ what?” Pinkie Pie yelled, shuddering to a stop right behind Sweetie Belle. “Argh! Rarity help, I don’t want to burst!” She made a flying leap into Rarity’s forelegs. The pair teetered on their chair for a moment and then, with an alarming crack of splintering wood went crashing to the floor.
Rarity shrieked. “Pinkie Pie, she was being allegorical!”
“I don’t wanna’ allegorically explode either!”
Sweetie leapt away from the pair as Rarity struggled to disentangle herself and Pinkie tried desperately to cling onto her.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”
“Sweetie Belle, what’s wrong?” Apple Bloom demanded again, leaping out of her chair. “What are you so worried about?”
“I’m not worried about anything! I just don’t understand how you all know everything already.” Sweetie shook her head to try and clear her blurring vision.
“Wait, know everything?” Scootaloo slipped off her own chair and advanced on Sweetie Belle. Sweetie began to backpedal. “Sweetie Belle, you know what your cutie mark means, right?”
“I... Well its a... And there’s the shield that...” Sweetie’s voice died in an ugly croak.
“Sweetie–” Apple Bloom stepped forwards, and Sweetie found herself backing into a wall.
“I... I,” she stammered, tears streaming down her face. “I don’t know, okay! We went through all of that work to get our cutie-marks and I still don’t know what mine means!”
Apple Bloom went for a hug, but with speed fueled by desperation Sweetie slipped past her, weaved through a sea of table legs and escaped out of the door.
On the streets of Ponyville she ran blindly, only trying to get away and caring little for her destination let alone her direction. Ponies, young and old but all with infuriating, incomprehensible cutie-marks on their flanks tried to stop her but, though not as athletic as her friends, Sweetie was well practiced at running form adults.
Still, for all her speed, there was no beating magic.
Sweetie felt the ground vanish beneath her hooves as the ticklish grip of somepony’s magic lifted her off the ground. Her horn sparked and she kicked wildly, trying to pull free but in vain.
“Sweetie Belle!” Rarity yelled, haring towards Sweetie, her horn glowing brighter than the filly had ever seen. “What is the matter with you?”
“Let me go, let me go!” she screamed and squirmed but Rarity’s grip was like trying to escape from taffy.
“Not until you tell me what is wrong, young lady.” Rarity dropped her onto her hooves. Sweetie made a half hearted bid for freedom, but was blocked by another surge of magic. “Now please, tell me what that was all about?”
Sweetie sniffed, rubbing her tear stained eyes with a fetlock. “It's just not fair. It’s not fair. Everypony else gets a cutie-mark they understand, but mine’s broken.” She gave her mark a forlorn look. “I worked so hard to get it and it doesn’t even do anything. I don’t know what it means. I’m broken.”
A silence stretched between the sisters. Rarity broke it will a long sigh.
“Oh Sweetie, what ever could have convinced you that you’re the problem?” she asked, plaintively.
Sweetie hung her head. “Applejack said everypony knows what their cutie-mark means. But I don’t. I’m broken.”
Rarity let out an annoyed huff. “I’m going to kill her,” she muttered under her breath. “Sweetie Belle, though she has many fine qualities Applejack isn’t exactly a mare known for self doubt. It can be... well, a great deal more complicated than that.” She pursed her lips and let out another sigh. “Actually, if you’ll come along Sweetie Belle. I’ve got a photograph to show you that’ll fix everything.”
Sweetie Belle frowned. It didn’t make much sense that a pony could fix a cutie-mark with just a photograph. “Really?”
“I promise.”
Sweetie Belle rarely went into the attic of the Carousel Boutique. Not just because it was off limits to little fillies but also because it freaked her out just how clean Rarity kept the place. Apple Bloom had a proper dusty attic filled with ancient secrets and moldering furniture. Rarity mopped hers weekly, it wasn’t natural.
“Now them,” Rarity murmured to herself, digging through a pile of old books. “I do hope it's not at our parents place. Ah, here we go.” She lifted the stack with her magic before pulling out a slim album. “Now, Sweetie Belle. What do you think your cutie-mark means?”
Sweetie folded her ears flat and hung her head. “I don’t know,” she murmured, sniffling. “Its got a shield... Scootaloo thought that it might mean we’d be guards.”
“I didn’t ask what Scootaloo thought, I wanted to know what you thought.”
“I don’t know what it means,” Sweetie admitted, staring at her hooves.
Rarity huffed. “Okay then, what do you think my cutie-mark means?”
Sweetie blinked, staring at the three familiar diamonds. “It means you make things beautiful,” she said, echoing some half remembered explanation. “You can make anything shine.”
“Ah, yes I did say that, didn’t I?” Rarity shook her head. “What would you say if I told you that it actually meant that I was an extremely good miner?”
“Srnk!” Sweetie Belle laughed despite herself. “I wouldn’t believe you.
“No, no it's true,” Rarity continued. She opened the album and pulled out a faded photo. It showed a young Rarity, lanky and still struggling to leave her fillyhood behind her. She had her hair tied up in an elegant braid, a hard hat perched on her head and she was wearing dungarees with her name embroidered on her chest in pink thread. Much to Sweetie Belle’s amazement, Rarity was beaming. “This is me on my first day of work experience at Diamond Buff mines, a little family owned affair about two days south of ponyville.”
“You actually went down a mine?” Sweetie Belle shook her head in disbelief. “Willingly?”
Rarity huffed. “I’m not that bad with dirt, darling.” Sweetie cast a sceptical glance around the gleaming atic. “Still, you do have a point. This was me, after my first day of work experience.”
She raised a second photograph. It showed the same outfit, but Rarity was a changed mare. She scowled at the camera, her dungarees and coat caked with dirt and grime. Her hair framed her helmet in a ragged mess of purple curls and split end.
“Okay, that’s more how I pictured it.” Sweetie paused. “But doesn’t that just mean you’re wrong about your cutie-mark too?”
“Oh no, I was a natural miner,” Rarity said, with a nostalgic smile. “Mr Diggums almost fell over backwards trying to keep on the team. I, however, loathed scrabbling around in the dirt, and resolved there and then never to set hoof in a mine again as long as I lived. I was going quite a good job until those beastly diamond dogs ponynapped me, but that’s another story.”
Sweetie grabbed the pair of photos out of the air. “But, what about the dresses?” she protested. “What does that have to do with mining?”
“Everything, and nothing at the same time.” Rarity smiled at Sweetie Belle’s befuddled expression. “Sweetie, if my talent was dressmaking I would have a needle and thread, or a ponykin or something to do with the noble art of sewing. Being a dressmaker isn’t my talent, it's my dream. My talent is manipulating gems and dirt, but with a little bit of hard work and ingenuity all of those skills cross over into my art.”
“But... doesn’t that mean that your cutie-mark is still for mining?” Sweetie frowned. “That it doesn’t mean what everypony things it means?”
Rarity shook her head. “No no, Sweetie. Look at my cutie-mark again.” She shuffled to bare her flank. “What is it?”
“A mining mark?”
Rarity rolled her eyes. “No. What is it?”
Sweetie stared for a long moment, her thoughts swirling as she tried to figure out the hidden message. It took her a good minute but then she finally realised that the answer. “Oh... It just a picture of three diamonds.”
“Exactly. The meaning of a mark isn’t on a pony’s flank, it's up here.” She tapped her head. “Or in here.” She tapped Sweetie Belle’s forehead. “You get your cutie-mark in your first moment of understanding, but understanding the world is not a single step. It's a journey that continues for the rest of your life.”
“So, your cutie-mark does mean that you make dresses?” Sweetie said, haltingly. Rarity nodded. “And that you’re good with gems, and make things beautiful, and all of those things?”
“Exactly.” Rarity beamed. “But it could also mean that I have a sparkling personality. Or have a cutting wit. Or horde gems like some kind of feral dragon. None of these are meaning that I give it, so they aren’t true.”
“What about bearing the Element of Generosity?” Sweetie cut in.
Rarity winced. “Yes, that one is an odd one. Still, I don’t think many ponies have to worry about finding their cutie-mark on a thousand year old artifact. The point is that in the end a pony writes her own story.”
“So, when Applejack said that her apples represent her family, she was right? ”
Rarity nodded. “It's a little trite, but it's as true as any other way of looking at them.”
“And Cheerilee’s flowers representing her student's blooming?”
A snort of mirth escaped Rarity. “That’s what she’s going with now?” she exclaimed, then shook herself. “I mean, yes, yes that’s true too. Now, take a good look at your own mark, Sweetie Belle. Tell me what you see.”
Sweetie frowned and, reluctantly cast her eyes back. “It's a shield,” she said after a long moment. “A shield with all my friends on in. And I’ve got a star and a musical note... I don’t that mean I’m going to be a singer.”
“Then don’t. From now on the note can represent the song you have in your heart. The star is how you’re a guiding light to all the ponies around you.”
“Snrk.” Sweetie Belle was unable to stop the snigger. “That might be a bit cheesy.”
Rarity chuckled. “Just something to get you started. Now how about–”
The was a sudden thunk from the window. The unicorns whipped around to see Scootaloo plastered against the glass as if she’d just flown into it. With a ‘pop’ she pulled herself off and perched on the narrow windowsill.
“They’re up here Apple Bloom!” she yelled down at the ground.
“Okay, just give me a moment to rewind the catapult!” Apple Bloom’s voice echoed from far below.
“Catapult!” Rarity shriked. She charged towards the window, throwing it open, grabbing Scootaloo and yanking her inside in one smooth burst of magic. “No! No catapults!” Rarity stuck her head out of the window. “Apple Bloom, don’t you dare move a muscle! What were you two even thinking?”
“You wouldn’t answer the door,” Scootaloo said as she dangled in Rarity’s magical grip, as if the answer had been obvious.
Rarity shot her a flat look. “Apple Bloom, we’ll be right down.”
A few moments later, and after Apple Bloom had been let in through the front door, the trio of fillies gathered in the main studio.
“Honestly, I don’t know what you were thinking,” Rarity muttered, fussing over Scootaloo. “We agreed no more catapults.”
“No more catapults while—Hey! Easy with the hair—Crusading,” Scootaloo protested. “The Crusade is over.”
Rarity, never one for technicalities, frowned at her.
“We’re sorry Rarity,” Apple Bloom cut in, turning her best pleading eyes on the mare. “We just really, really needed to find Sweetie Belle, to apologize.”
“Oh, very well,” Rarity sighed, and shook her head. “I suppose I can’t fault you for your enthusiasm. I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me.” She trotted away, grumbling to herself.
“Told you we wouldn’t get in trouble,” Scootaloo murmured, shooting Apple Bloom a smug grin.
Apple Bloom ignored her. “Anyway, we wanted to say sorry, Sweetie Belle.”
“Apple Bloom wanted to say we were sorry,” Scootaloo amended. Apple Bloom elbowed her in the ribs. “Ack! I mean, yeah, we wanted to say sorry for making you feel bad about your cutie-mark. That was like a totally Diamond Tiara thing to do.”
“It's okay.” Sweetie gave a weak smile.
“No, no it really isn’t,” Scootaloo continued, sighing. Her shoulders and wings slumping. “I’m sorry I pushed you about your cutie-mark. I guess we spent so much time trying to figure out what it meant, we never really asked what you thought it meant.”
“I wasn’t too sure myself,” Sweetie said, slowly. She looked back at her cutie-mark and for the first time smiled. I think I’ve got a good idea now though.”
A beat passed. “Well go on then.” Apple Bloom poked her shoulder. “Don’t keep us in suspense.”
Sweetie Belle grinned. “It means I’m a Cutie-Mark Crusader.” And with those words it seemed all the weight of the world was lifted from her shoulders.
Slowly, she exhaled, casting another fond look at her mark.
Scootaloo frowned. “That’s it?”
“That’s all it need to be for now.”
Sweetie Belle reached forward and dragged the pair into a three way hug. Perhaps in the future she would find the courage to sign solo. Perhaps she’d be that star. Maybe they’d all stay in ponyville or go off on grand adventure together, but just then all she needed was her friends by her side.
“Urgh mushy stuff,” Scootaloo groused. “Alright, but when you become a Bridleway star we still want tick–Ack! Sweetie Belle, too tight, too tight!”
No matter how irritating said friends could be.
“Scootaloo!” she squeaked, shaking herself. “Urgh... we need to get another blanket.”
With dainty steps she picked herself out of the pony pile, over a still slumbering Applebloom then one of Winona's squeaky toys and finally a model train before making it to the Clubhouse window. Celestia’s sun was just creeping over the mountaintops, bathing Sweet Apple Acres in golden light and heralding the start of another new day. Judging by the approaching crack of Applejack’s hooves the trio were due a wake-up call any second. Applejack wouldn't give allowances for a late night, no matter how well earned their celebration.
Sweetie’s ears snapped ramrod straight as the reason for the impromptu sleepover came rushing back. A snatched look back at her flank confirmed that it hadn’t just been some wonderful dream—again—and that there really was a shiny, brand new cutie-mark on her hip.
“Eeee...” she stuffed a hoof in her mouth as her squee threatened to go ultrasonic. She pranced in place, struggling not to just jump around in joy “Yes, yes, yes, yes! It happened, it really, really happened. I have a cutie-mark, I have a cutie-mark and this one won’t wash off!” she sung to herself.
It was perfect. Oh sure, the Crusaders had always hoped that they’d get a mark for the same thing, or at least at the same time, or for tallents that would at least let them stay together. Actually, there had been some rumblings that maybe, just maybe that it was the hunt for something shared that had been holding them back, but now she had undeniable proof that Scootaloo had been wrong. Their collective cutie-marks exceeded Sweetie Belle’s wildest dream. They had the same shield, the same blend of colours and the same pink and purple colours on their own symbols.
Sweetie snuck back over to her friends, just to make sure neither of them had been humouring her with a fake mark or anything crazy like that. Well, not that crazy, Applebloom had tried to cheat before. Luckily, this time everything was just as she remembered it and Sweetie Belle had to bite down another squee.
Their marks were perfect! Scootaloo had a lightning bolt laid over a wing, not that she’d let anypony forget about the bolt and its similarity the Rainbow Dash’s. Enthusiasm aside, it fit her to a T. Speed, flight, awesomeness, radicalness and coolness—Sweetie maintained those were the same thing but apparently Rainbow Dash knew better—the cutie-mark represented all the best parts of her fiercest friend.
Applebloom’s was the same, a pink heart laid over a purple apple. Well the apple was always going to be on her mark. Even if their deep sea diving escapade had worked properly Sweetie Belle had expected Applebloom to have an apple somewhere on her flank. The heart was equally obvious, a perfect fit for the most passionate filly Sweetie Belle knew.
And on her own flank there was... Well...
Sweetie Belle sat down heavily, twisting her shoulders to get a proper look at the mark on her flank. A musical note on top of a star.
What the hay was that supposed to mean?
“Come on little fillies, time’s awastin’!” Applejack called over her shoulder as she led the procession into town.
“Uff, it's too early to be that happy,” Scootaloo groused, rubbing her eye with a fetlock. She was not a morning pony by any definition of the word.
“Hey, we’re not fillies any more!” Apple Bloom protested, trotting to catch up with her sister. “We’re big ponies now.” She craned her neck to try and gain some height, but still only came up to Applejack’s chin.
“Sure you are, sugarcube.” Applejack tussled her hair. “Though Ah hope you’ve got a bit of growing still to come. Still, get along little ponies school don’t end just because you got your cutie-marks. Ah’m sure your friends will want to hear all about ‘em.”
“Most of them were there for it,” Scootaloo muttered.
Applejack just smirked. “Like that’ll stop them. No pony’s ever been shy about listening to a cutie-mark story and whoo-wee have you girls got one to tell. You fillies are going to be the talk of the schoolyard, Ah guarantee it.”
Scootaloo brightened. “Oh yeah! And we get to rub our butts in Diamond Tiara’s face.”
Applejack shot her a dirty look and opened her mouth but Apple Bloom interrupted first.
“Scoots, Diamond Tiara is our friend now. You’re not rubbing anything against her face.”
“Come on,” Scootaloo whinned. “It's been my dream for like, a year and a half. I reckon we’ve got at least some payback saved up even if she is good now.”
“That’s not how it works!”
Applejack facehooved behind the pair. “And here was Ah thinking they’d calm down,” she muttered to herself. “Shucks, just goes to show there’s some things cutie-marks can’t change.”
“There are?”
Applejack startled, suddenly finding Sweetie Belle stood right next to her. “Huh? Oh, Sweetie Belle, you’ve got quiet hooves this morning.”
“What do you mean things won't change?” Sweetie pressed. “I thought having a cutie-mark was supposed to be super important.”
“Oh, shoot, sugar. Ah didn’t mean that nothing will change...” Applejack drummed her hooves for a moment. “Hay, a pony’ll remember getting their cutie-mark for the rest of their lives. Aint every day you figure out your purpose. It's just... well, you’re still Sweetie Belle, ain’t you? A cutie-mark’s like a tree’s first apple, it don’t mean that it's a whole new tree.”
Sweetie Belle cast a look at her flank and frowned. That was the problem. What was a star and music note even supposed to mean anyway. She glanced at Applejack’s cutie-mark, a familiar trio of three bright red apples.
“Applejack, what does your cutie-mark mean?”
The question seemed to take Applejack back for a moment. “Pardon? Oh come on now, Sweetie Belle, Ah’ve told you that story before. Went to Manehattan to find myself, saw a rainboom and realised it my place was home all along.”
Sweetie pursed her lips. “Yeah, I remember. What does it mean, though? Like, are you really good a picking red apples? Or, do you get three times more apples from a tree than Big Mac? Oh, is it something simple like your favorite colour, or–”
“Whoa there Sweetie, don’t go running ahead.” Applejack put a hoof on her mouth to still the babble. “It just means that Ah’m an Apple, see.” She pointed at the trio of apples. “One, two, three apples all in a row. Big Mac, Apple Bloom and me all together as we should be. It means my place is on Sweet Apple Acres working the farm like my mammy and pappy.”
“That’s it?” Sweetie blinked, staring at her. “That seems... simple.”
Applejack snorted. “Oh Sweetie, don’t worry about it. Twilight would probably have some long lecture about the magic of marks for you, but Ah promise you that when it comes to cutie-marks you just have to follow your heart. You wouldn’t have got it if you didn’t know what it was for, after all. Now let's get moving, last time Ah let Scootaloo and my sister get out of sight on the way to school they wound up stuck in a rain barrel.”
She set off at a trot, hurrying to catch up with the still bickering pair. Sweetie Belle spared another glance at her flank before rushing after her. Maybe she was just overthinking it. The coloured parts of the shield were clearly there to represent her friends, just like Applejack’s apples represented her family. Although, Applejack’s wasn’t exactly that blatant and didn’t have anything like a shield.
Come to think of it, why did the apples have to represent Applejack’s family? Maybe she was a tree whisperer, like Fluttershy with her animals. Wouldn’t that make more sense than three apples when Applejack was from a family of four ponies last Sweetie Belle checked?
Biting her lip, Sweetie looked up at Applejack turning over another battery of question in her head. The farm-pony looked so sure of herself, though, and the jumble of words died on her lips. Before she work up the nerve the familiar sight of the schoolhouse was looming large ahead of them and already she could hear the fillies and colts cooing over Apple Bloom and Scootaloo.
“Applejack, what if a pony didn’t really understand their mark?” she asked, in a very small voice.
“Oh don’t worry Sweetie Belle. Ah know how you feel, you’ve got a new path out in front of you and that’s a scary thing. You don’t have to worry your pretty little head about a thing. There ain’t never been a pony alive who didn’t understand their cutie-mark.” She smiled and nudged Sweetie towards the schoolyard. “Now, get along or you’re going to be late.”
Sweetie swallowed the lump in her throat and broke into an anxious canter. There was already a large crowd of fillies clustered around her fellow Crusaders who seemed to be fielding questions from all comers. Perhaps, if she was particularly quiet, she could dodge the whole ‘cutie-mark’ question until lunchtime by making it into class before anypony saw her.
Hanging a sudden left Sweetie aimed for a section of collapsed fencing—there was an ongoing argument as to whether Applejack or Rarity were going to pay for the damages, although Sweetie insisted it had actually been Scootaloo's fault—and leapt. She cleared the low bar and failed the landing, plowing face first into the long grass.
“There she is!” Scootaloo exclaimed, and there was a small stampede as the small herd of children rushed over to her.
Sweetie winced, stumbling to her hooves as the crowd swallowed her.
“Finally, I thought you’d gotten lost,” Apple Bloom exclaimed, grabbing Sweetie by the shoulders and dragging her into the very centre where Scootaloo was still preening under the antention. “See, this is what I was telling y'all about. A matched set of cutie-marks!”
She and Scootaloo beamed, proudly displaying their hips for all to see. Forcing a smile, Sweetie followed suit, her eyes darting nervously around the crowd.
“Yeah, aren’t these just the most awesome things you’ve ever seen! It means we’re going to be friends forever,” Scootaloo continued in a rush. “And look, I’ve got wings on these babies. That means I’m finally going to be a flyer!”
The gathered children ‘ooo’ed on cue.
“Well mine’s an apple,” Apple Bloom cut back in. “Means I’m both part of my family and your friend. See, it’s even got a heart on it because I’ve got a big enough heart for all y'all.” She smiled even wider, grabbing Sweetie and Scootaloo and dragging them into a group hug.
“Belgh!” Scootaloo gagged. “Stop getting all mushy on me. These marks are radical and awesome and you’re not taking that away from me.”
Sweetie slipped out of the hug, trying her best to fold in on herself and disappear.
“What’s yours for, Sweetie Belle?” Twist cut in, suddenly. In an instant a hundred eyes zeroed in on Sweetie Belle and the little filly shuddered.
“Oh, well. I was... I mean it– If you think about it...”
“Oh come on, Twist,” Scootaloo cut off Sweetie Belle’s nervous babble and put a hoof on her whitters. “Its obvious, it means she’s going to be a singer. Well, probably, I still say that I did pretty well at the talent show.”
Apple Bloom smirked. “Nopony else does.”
“I don’t really like singing in front of crowds,” Sweetie murmured, cocking her tail over her flanks.
“Ooo! Ooo!” Snips exclaimed. “She’s going to be a Bridleway Star, that’s what it means!”
“Well... I guess I do like musicals.” Sweetie shuddered. “But, um, there’d be a lot of ponies–”
“Don’t be stupid,” Scootaloo shot back. “If she went all the way to Manehattan then she wouldn’t be with us.”
Sweetie gulped. “Oh yeah...”
“I want to know about the shield,” another filly cut in, Sweetie didn’t see who. “Does that mean you’re all joining the guards?”
“Guards?” Sweetie Belle echoed, a sudden horrifying image of herself crushed under a thousand pounds of golden armour flashed through her head.
“What?” Apple Bloom exclaimed. “No, we’re not guards. It's the Cutie Mark Crusader shield!”
Sweetie Belle breathed a sigh of relief. If there was one thing she was absolutely sure of, she was never becoming a guard.
“Wait, wait, wait.” Scootaloo reared up. “What if we are? Twilight’s gonna’ have a Friendship Guard at some point, we could do that! I can totally feel my cutie calling me that way.”
“No way!” Sweetie Belle squeaked. “We can’t be guards—” She glanced back at the extremely prominent shield on her flank. “—Can we?” She looked around desperately for somepony to object, but if anything the fillies and colts just seemed even more enthused by the idea. Over by the school house she saw Cheerilee looking on and turned her best pleading eyes onto the teacher.
“Hmm, maybe...” Apple Bloom began, rubbing her chin. “What we need is–”
“Okay now, my little ponies!” Cheerilee called out suddenly, ringing the school bell. “You’ll have plenty of time to play after class. Come on, it's time for school.”
There was a chorus of groans but, as a single mass the herd of ponies made their way into the school house and Sweetie Belle breathed a deep sigh of relief.
“Today we’ll be having an lesson on matched cutie-marks throughout history.”
Sweetie Belle facehooved.
Class passed slower than usual, and not just because the Pinwhistle twins and their matched marks in musical theory. Cheerilee never clamped down too hard on ponies gossiping in class, as long as they kept their notes up to date and their minds on the lesson. Under normal circumstances Sweetie found that a mixed blessing, tending to bad depending on the Diamond Tiara’s mood of the day. With every iota of attention the class possessed focused on the Crusaders, however, the clock seemed to tick slower and slower with every passing comment.
From a small sample it seemed like the class were expecting everything from the Crusaders forming a cutie-mark support group to setting up a space programme. She war fairly sure that last one had drifted across the class form Snails, so probably nopony was taking the suggestion seriously, but it that didn’t make it any less scary. Sweetie’s eyes drifted back to her flank for the umpteenth time and she shuddered, biting her lip and tried to force herself to focus on the chalkboard.
The worse part was, despite terrible, terrible ideas—Why would moster hunting even be an option?—Sweetie Belle found it hard to deny any of them. Sure, being a guard would be a nightmare, but if Scootaloo was really feeling a pull towards it maybe it was for the best. It would be better than having to sing at least, and if there was one part of her cutie-mark she was absolutely sure she understood it was that the musical note was emphatically not for singing solo.
The clanging of the lunch bell startled her out of her whirling thoughts. With a sinking feeling Sweetie noticed the sudden explosion of new notes on the board and began to scribble them down furiously as the rest of her classmates made a break for the door. Her horn sparks as she tried to keep her pencil under control.
“Oh, Sweetie Belle,” Cheerilee interrupted, in her usual sing-gong lilt. “Aren’t you going out for a bite to eat.”
Sweetie felt her ears fold flat and cursed the treacherous appendages. “Just a minute,” she murmured, scrawling another line.
“Sweetie, you’ve been lost in your head all day,” Cheerilee continued. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Just... tired. It was a long day yesterday.”
Cheerilee pursed her lips, but didn’t say anything. Sweetie finished writing and set down her quill. Nervously tapping her hoof on the desk she looked up at her teacher.
“Miss Cheerilee,” she began after a long moment. “What does your cutie-mark mean?”
“Oh? Well I’m sure I’ve told you that before, Sweetie Belle.” Cheerilee smiled, shuffling to expose her flank. “The flowers symbolise hope for my students to bloom and the smiles–”
“But how do you know if that’s right? Like, what if those flowers are actually sunflowers, would you know?”
Cheerilee's smile went glassy in an instant. “Oh, um, well that’s an interesting question there Sweetie Belle. Most ponies... well they find it easy to understand their cutie-mark.”
“Did you?” Sweetie pressed, a plaintive lilt creeping into her void.
“I, ah, yes well I–” Cheerilee rubbed her head with a fetlock.
“Am I interrupting?”
Cheerilee whirled, saw the pair of fillies in the doorway and breathed a deep sigh of relief. “Oh, Diamond Tiara! What can I do for you?”
Diamond Tiara raised an eyebrow but seemed to decide it wasn’t worth digging into. “Silver Spoon and I were wondering if Sweetie’s coming outside, her friends are all waiting for her.”
Sweetie swallowed, maybe if she volunteered to clean the blackboard or something Cheerilee would let her stay inside for lunch.
“That sounds wonderful, Diamond Tiara,” Cheerilee said, beaming. “Come along, Sweetie Belle, this is no day to spend inside. Get out there and enjoy yourself, and just remember that there’s nothing to worry about. A cutie-mark will always lead you true.”
A long sigh escaped Sweetie Belle. “Okay...” She dragged herself to her hooves as she made her way over to the door.
“Yeash dork, what’s wrong with you today?” Diamond Tiara shook her head, and half dragged Sweetie Belle out of the schoolhouse.
“Diamond, you asked me to remind you when you were being mean again,” Silver Spoon sighed, shooting the filly a pointed look.
“Dork is mean?” she exclaimed, as she lead the trio across the playground. “Oh come on! Well what do I call her then?”
Sweetie Belle pouted. “You could call me by my name,” she muttered.
“Come on, I was jerking you around,” Diamond groused. “I’m good now, remember?” A pair a sceptical looks greeted her. “Really, girls? I stood up to my mother for you ponies. Do you have any idea how many years I’m ground for for making her look bad in public?”
Silver Spoon snorted. “You’ll have your dad let you off the hook in a week tops.”
“True, true.” Diamond Tiara smirked. “Still, I’m super grounded now so I get to milk it. You know what that’s like, eh Sweetie Belle?” She elbowed her in the ribs and Sweetie let out an incoherent grunt.
“Nothing?” Diamond paused, grabbing Sweetie Belle by the foreleg and spinning her around. She squinted at her for a long moment, and Sweetie tried to duck out of her gaze. “Yeash, what’s eating you today? Its the day after the best day of your life, you’re supposed to be happy. Look at the other Blank—”
“Ahem.” Silver Spoon frowned at her.
“—I mean Crusaders, they’re having the time of their lives.”
A lead weight seemed to settle in Sweetie Belle’s stomach as she looked over to the other Crusaders. The pair had acquired a Pinkie Pie somewhere and were laughing up a storm, occasionally stopping to show off their cutie-marks as if to demonstrate a point. Sweetie felt her tail hitch up to cover her flank.
“Um, Diamond Tiara,” she began. “What do your cutie-mark mean?”
Diamond froze. “What?” She cocked her head, staring at Sweetie Belle as if she was checking for a changeling. “Sweetie Belle, the whole reason you got yours, was because you helped me understand mine. How can you not know?!”
Sweetie Belle shrank in on herself, tears prickling in the corner of her eyes. “I...”
“Diamond Tiara,” Silver Spoon snapped, putting a hoof on the fillies withers. “Mean.”
Diamond Tiara brushed her off. “Its called tough love, Silver Spoon.” She let out a frustrated huff. “But fine, if you want to know it means... Well, I tells me that I’m supposed to be in charge. It’s a royal tiara as well as this thing.” She tapped her eponymous tiara. “It means I’m a good leader. Hard as diamond, a brilliant leader and, of course, beautiful and beneficent to boot.”
Both Sweetie and Silver Spoon stared at her for a beat.
“Beneficent?” Silver Spoon sighed, shaking her head.
“Brilliant leader?” Frowning.
Diamond scowled at them. “Okay, fine. I haven’t always led ponies in the right direction, but you can’t deny I know how to lead. I took a school paper national, got a playground built in an afternoon and to top it off made you Crusaders the most popular fillies in school over a weekend.”
Sweetie and Silver shared a look. It made sense at the very least. More so than Applejack’s, miles more than Sweetie Belle’s perplexing cutie-mark. Still, Sweetie two weeks ago Sweetie Belle would have bet every bit to her name (six... seven if Opal ever spat up the coin she’d swallowed) that Diamond’s mark was for acting like a spoiled little princess.
“What about you, Silver Spoon?” Sweetie continued, turning to the grey filly.
“Me?” she said, startled. “Oh, well isn’t not very interesting really.” She shuffled her hooves as she looked back at her spoon shaped mark. “It's my name and, well, my family have been silversmiths for generations. It means that I’m going to follow in the family hoofsteps, like everypony has before me forever and ever and ever.” She let out a long sigh.
Sweetie frowned at her. Could a cutie-mark really be that simple? She opened her mouth for another question but Diamond got there first.
“Okay, that’s more than enough of that!” Diamond snapped, putting a foreleg over her friend. “What is the matter with you today?”
“Hey, Sweetie!” Apple Bloom hollered from the fence. “Are you coming or not, our sisters are meeting us at Sugarcube Corner for lunch!”
“Coming!” Sweetie shot back. “I guess...” She shook herself. “See you later girls.”
Diamond Tiara let out a huff. “Just stop being so broody, if you can’t say something happy, don’t say anything at all.”
“Diamond, mean,” Silver Spoon said with a long suffering sigh.
“What? No way, that’s basic decency!”
As the pair descended into a row Sweetie beat a hasty retreat, more confused than ever before.
“Oh, and extra rainbow sprinkles!” Scootaloo concluded with a flourish.
“Okie dokies,” Pinkie Pie cheered, bouncing in place even as she scrawled down the order. “That’s two apple milkshakes. A rainbow swirl. A rainbow swirl with extra sprinkles. A latteee for Rarity and a vanilla milkshake. I’ll be back in two shakes of a fillies tail.” Leaving behind a faint pink blur she whizzed away into Sugarcube Corner’s kitchen.
Scootaloo frowned and twitched her tail twice. She seemed somewhat surprised when it didn’t summon Pinkie Pie back with their order.
“Thanks for lunch, Sis,” Apple Bloom chirped, pressing up against Applejack who just smiled and tousled her hair.
“Yeah, thanks,” Scootaloo mirrored her with Rainbow Dash. “If I’d know getting a cutie mark would get us free food I would have tried ten times harder.
Rarity, Applejack and Dash shared a mutual look of horror.
“I’m not sure Equestria would have survived that, darling.”
“Oh come on, we’re not that bad,” Scootaloo protested. There was whoosh and suddenly their drinks arrived. “Although, if we get free food every time maybe we could look into getting another–”
“No!” the girls yelled, along with Pinkie Pie behind the counter, Lyra and Bon Bon a table over and pretty much every other pony in the restaurant.
Scootaloo looked around confused. “What?”
“Just, stick to one cutie-mark, Squirt,” Rainbow Dash said with a sigh, pressing a hoof to her head. “You’ve got more than enough awesome for one pony.”
“I for one vote for never speaking Fancy again,” Apple Bloom added.
“Oh well, guess I’ll just have to settle,” Scootaloo began with a smirk. “For being a totally awesome stunt pony, Wonderbolt, scooter racing Cutie-mark Crusader!”
Sweetie blanched. “All of those things?” she exclaimed, then clapped her hooves over her mouth. “I mean, sorry.”
“Oh yeah, totally,” Scootaloo said, leaning back in her seat with her hooves behind her head. “Now we’ve got our cutie-marks its going to be smooth sailing. I’ll be flying, Apple Bloom will be bucking apples and Sweetie will be singing for the whole town.”
“I really don’t like singing in public!” Sweetie squeaked, trying to fold herself as small as possible in her seat.
Scootaloo chuffed. “Come on, Sweetie Belle. You’ve got a music note on your flank and you’re a singer. It's not complicated.”
“But what if I don’t what to be a singer?” Sweetie continued in a rush, her breath coming in sudden frantic bursts. “Music notes mean a lot of things. How do you know your wing means you’re going to be a flyer? Rainbow Dash is the fastest pony alive and she doesn’t have a wing on her flank.”
Hey! We’ve both got bolts,” Scootaloo shot back, spreading her wings defensively. “That makes us both totally awesome. I can feel it.”
Sweetie blanched, trying and failing to swallow the lump in her throat. Her eyes snapped back to her cutie-mark which sat silent on her flank, mocking her with its very presence. There were tears pooling at the corners of her eyes again, even as she tried to blink them away.
“Sweetie Belle, what is wrong?” Apple Bloom interrupted, frowning at her. “You’ve been jumpy all day.”
“Nothing is wrong!” she protested, desperately. “I just don’t understand why. Like, why’s Rainbow Dash’s cutie-mark about speed? Why doesn’t it mean that she’s really good with lightning bolts and rainbows?”
“For the record, I am totally awesome with those,” Rainbow Dash said, with a smug grin. There was a thunk as Applejack kicked her under the table. “Hey!”
Rarity pulled Sweetie into a hug. “Oh Sweetie Belle, don’t worry yourself. Cutie-marks aren’t something a pony is supposed to take literally.”
Sweetie blinked. “But... but... but that makes even less sense!” she exclaimed. “How’s anypony supposed to know what their cutie-mark means if it doesn’t even have to be obvious? What about Pinkie Pie?” She pointed at the mare who was still darting between tables, taking orders. “Her cutie-mark is balloons, but balloons don’t have to have anything to do with parties. What if it means she’s got a really high pitched voice or bursts if you prick her with a pin?”
“I’m gonna’ what?” Pinkie Pie yelled, shuddering to a stop right behind Sweetie Belle. “Argh! Rarity help, I don’t want to burst!” She made a flying leap into Rarity’s forelegs. The pair teetered on their chair for a moment and then, with an alarming crack of splintering wood went crashing to the floor.
Rarity shrieked. “Pinkie Pie, she was being allegorical!”
“I don’t wanna’ allegorically explode either!”
Sweetie leapt away from the pair as Rarity struggled to disentangle herself and Pinkie tried desperately to cling onto her.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”
“Sweetie Belle, what’s wrong?” Apple Bloom demanded again, leaping out of her chair. “What are you so worried about?”
“I’m not worried about anything! I just don’t understand how you all know everything already.” Sweetie shook her head to try and clear her blurring vision.
“Wait, know everything?” Scootaloo slipped off her own chair and advanced on Sweetie Belle. Sweetie began to backpedal. “Sweetie Belle, you know what your cutie mark means, right?”
“I... Well its a... And there’s the shield that...” Sweetie’s voice died in an ugly croak.
“Sweetie–” Apple Bloom stepped forwards, and Sweetie found herself backing into a wall.
“I... I,” she stammered, tears streaming down her face. “I don’t know, okay! We went through all of that work to get our cutie-marks and I still don’t know what mine means!”
Apple Bloom went for a hug, but with speed fueled by desperation Sweetie slipped past her, weaved through a sea of table legs and escaped out of the door.
On the streets of Ponyville she ran blindly, only trying to get away and caring little for her destination let alone her direction. Ponies, young and old but all with infuriating, incomprehensible cutie-marks on their flanks tried to stop her but, though not as athletic as her friends, Sweetie was well practiced at running form adults.
Still, for all her speed, there was no beating magic.
Sweetie felt the ground vanish beneath her hooves as the ticklish grip of somepony’s magic lifted her off the ground. Her horn sparked and she kicked wildly, trying to pull free but in vain.
“Sweetie Belle!” Rarity yelled, haring towards Sweetie, her horn glowing brighter than the filly had ever seen. “What is the matter with you?”
“Let me go, let me go!” she screamed and squirmed but Rarity’s grip was like trying to escape from taffy.
“Not until you tell me what is wrong, young lady.” Rarity dropped her onto her hooves. Sweetie made a half hearted bid for freedom, but was blocked by another surge of magic. “Now please, tell me what that was all about?”
Sweetie sniffed, rubbing her tear stained eyes with a fetlock. “It's just not fair. It’s not fair. Everypony else gets a cutie-mark they understand, but mine’s broken.” She gave her mark a forlorn look. “I worked so hard to get it and it doesn’t even do anything. I don’t know what it means. I’m broken.”
A silence stretched between the sisters. Rarity broke it will a long sigh.
“Oh Sweetie, what ever could have convinced you that you’re the problem?” she asked, plaintively.
Sweetie hung her head. “Applejack said everypony knows what their cutie-mark means. But I don’t. I’m broken.”
Rarity let out an annoyed huff. “I’m going to kill her,” she muttered under her breath. “Sweetie Belle, though she has many fine qualities Applejack isn’t exactly a mare known for self doubt. It can be... well, a great deal more complicated than that.” She pursed her lips and let out another sigh. “Actually, if you’ll come along Sweetie Belle. I’ve got a photograph to show you that’ll fix everything.”
Sweetie Belle frowned. It didn’t make much sense that a pony could fix a cutie-mark with just a photograph. “Really?”
“I promise.”
Sweetie Belle rarely went into the attic of the Carousel Boutique. Not just because it was off limits to little fillies but also because it freaked her out just how clean Rarity kept the place. Apple Bloom had a proper dusty attic filled with ancient secrets and moldering furniture. Rarity mopped hers weekly, it wasn’t natural.
“Now them,” Rarity murmured to herself, digging through a pile of old books. “I do hope it's not at our parents place. Ah, here we go.” She lifted the stack with her magic before pulling out a slim album. “Now, Sweetie Belle. What do you think your cutie-mark means?”
Sweetie folded her ears flat and hung her head. “I don’t know,” she murmured, sniffling. “Its got a shield... Scootaloo thought that it might mean we’d be guards.”
“I didn’t ask what Scootaloo thought, I wanted to know what you thought.”
“I don’t know what it means,” Sweetie admitted, staring at her hooves.
Rarity huffed. “Okay then, what do you think my cutie-mark means?”
Sweetie blinked, staring at the three familiar diamonds. “It means you make things beautiful,” she said, echoing some half remembered explanation. “You can make anything shine.”
“Ah, yes I did say that, didn’t I?” Rarity shook her head. “What would you say if I told you that it actually meant that I was an extremely good miner?”
“Srnk!” Sweetie Belle laughed despite herself. “I wouldn’t believe you.
“No, no it's true,” Rarity continued. She opened the album and pulled out a faded photo. It showed a young Rarity, lanky and still struggling to leave her fillyhood behind her. She had her hair tied up in an elegant braid, a hard hat perched on her head and she was wearing dungarees with her name embroidered on her chest in pink thread. Much to Sweetie Belle’s amazement, Rarity was beaming. “This is me on my first day of work experience at Diamond Buff mines, a little family owned affair about two days south of ponyville.”
“You actually went down a mine?” Sweetie Belle shook her head in disbelief. “Willingly?”
Rarity huffed. “I’m not that bad with dirt, darling.” Sweetie cast a sceptical glance around the gleaming atic. “Still, you do have a point. This was me, after my first day of work experience.”
She raised a second photograph. It showed the same outfit, but Rarity was a changed mare. She scowled at the camera, her dungarees and coat caked with dirt and grime. Her hair framed her helmet in a ragged mess of purple curls and split end.
“Okay, that’s more how I pictured it.” Sweetie paused. “But doesn’t that just mean you’re wrong about your cutie-mark too?”
“Oh no, I was a natural miner,” Rarity said, with a nostalgic smile. “Mr Diggums almost fell over backwards trying to keep on the team. I, however, loathed scrabbling around in the dirt, and resolved there and then never to set hoof in a mine again as long as I lived. I was going quite a good job until those beastly diamond dogs ponynapped me, but that’s another story.”
Sweetie grabbed the pair of photos out of the air. “But, what about the dresses?” she protested. “What does that have to do with mining?”
“Everything, and nothing at the same time.” Rarity smiled at Sweetie Belle’s befuddled expression. “Sweetie, if my talent was dressmaking I would have a needle and thread, or a ponykin or something to do with the noble art of sewing. Being a dressmaker isn’t my talent, it's my dream. My talent is manipulating gems and dirt, but with a little bit of hard work and ingenuity all of those skills cross over into my art.”
“But... doesn’t that mean that your cutie-mark is still for mining?” Sweetie frowned. “That it doesn’t mean what everypony things it means?”
Rarity shook her head. “No no, Sweetie. Look at my cutie-mark again.” She shuffled to bare her flank. “What is it?”
“A mining mark?”
Rarity rolled her eyes. “No. What is it?”
Sweetie stared for a long moment, her thoughts swirling as she tried to figure out the hidden message. It took her a good minute but then she finally realised that the answer. “Oh... It just a picture of three diamonds.”
“Exactly. The meaning of a mark isn’t on a pony’s flank, it's up here.” She tapped her head. “Or in here.” She tapped Sweetie Belle’s forehead. “You get your cutie-mark in your first moment of understanding, but understanding the world is not a single step. It's a journey that continues for the rest of your life.”
“So, your cutie-mark does mean that you make dresses?” Sweetie said, haltingly. Rarity nodded. “And that you’re good with gems, and make things beautiful, and all of those things?”
“Exactly.” Rarity beamed. “But it could also mean that I have a sparkling personality. Or have a cutting wit. Or horde gems like some kind of feral dragon. None of these are meaning that I give it, so they aren’t true.”
“What about bearing the Element of Generosity?” Sweetie cut in.
Rarity winced. “Yes, that one is an odd one. Still, I don’t think many ponies have to worry about finding their cutie-mark on a thousand year old artifact. The point is that in the end a pony writes her own story.”
“So, when Applejack said that her apples represent her family, she was right? ”
Rarity nodded. “It's a little trite, but it's as true as any other way of looking at them.”
“And Cheerilee’s flowers representing her student's blooming?”
A snort of mirth escaped Rarity. “That’s what she’s going with now?” she exclaimed, then shook herself. “I mean, yes, yes that’s true too. Now, take a good look at your own mark, Sweetie Belle. Tell me what you see.”
Sweetie frowned and, reluctantly cast her eyes back. “It's a shield,” she said after a long moment. “A shield with all my friends on in. And I’ve got a star and a musical note... I don’t that mean I’m going to be a singer.”
“Then don’t. From now on the note can represent the song you have in your heart. The star is how you’re a guiding light to all the ponies around you.”
“Snrk.” Sweetie Belle was unable to stop the snigger. “That might be a bit cheesy.”
Rarity chuckled. “Just something to get you started. Now how about–”
The was a sudden thunk from the window. The unicorns whipped around to see Scootaloo plastered against the glass as if she’d just flown into it. With a ‘pop’ she pulled herself off and perched on the narrow windowsill.
“They’re up here Apple Bloom!” she yelled down at the ground.
“Okay, just give me a moment to rewind the catapult!” Apple Bloom’s voice echoed from far below.
“Catapult!” Rarity shriked. She charged towards the window, throwing it open, grabbing Scootaloo and yanking her inside in one smooth burst of magic. “No! No catapults!” Rarity stuck her head out of the window. “Apple Bloom, don’t you dare move a muscle! What were you two even thinking?”
“You wouldn’t answer the door,” Scootaloo said as she dangled in Rarity’s magical grip, as if the answer had been obvious.
Rarity shot her a flat look. “Apple Bloom, we’ll be right down.”
A few moments later, and after Apple Bloom had been let in through the front door, the trio of fillies gathered in the main studio.
“Honestly, I don’t know what you were thinking,” Rarity muttered, fussing over Scootaloo. “We agreed no more catapults.”
“No more catapults while—Hey! Easy with the hair—Crusading,” Scootaloo protested. “The Crusade is over.”
Rarity, never one for technicalities, frowned at her.
“We’re sorry Rarity,” Apple Bloom cut in, turning her best pleading eyes on the mare. “We just really, really needed to find Sweetie Belle, to apologize.”
“Oh, very well,” Rarity sighed, and shook her head. “I suppose I can’t fault you for your enthusiasm. I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me.” She trotted away, grumbling to herself.
“Told you we wouldn’t get in trouble,” Scootaloo murmured, shooting Apple Bloom a smug grin.
Apple Bloom ignored her. “Anyway, we wanted to say sorry, Sweetie Belle.”
“Apple Bloom wanted to say we were sorry,” Scootaloo amended. Apple Bloom elbowed her in the ribs. “Ack! I mean, yeah, we wanted to say sorry for making you feel bad about your cutie-mark. That was like a totally Diamond Tiara thing to do.”
“It's okay.” Sweetie gave a weak smile.
“No, no it really isn’t,” Scootaloo continued, sighing. Her shoulders and wings slumping. “I’m sorry I pushed you about your cutie-mark. I guess we spent so much time trying to figure out what it meant, we never really asked what you thought it meant.”
“I wasn’t too sure myself,” Sweetie said, slowly. She looked back at her cutie-mark and for the first time smiled. I think I’ve got a good idea now though.”
A beat passed. “Well go on then.” Apple Bloom poked her shoulder. “Don’t keep us in suspense.”
Sweetie Belle grinned. “It means I’m a Cutie-Mark Crusader.” And with those words it seemed all the weight of the world was lifted from her shoulders.
Slowly, she exhaled, casting another fond look at her mark.
Scootaloo frowned. “That’s it?”
“That’s all it need to be for now.”
Sweetie Belle reached forward and dragged the pair into a three way hug. Perhaps in the future she would find the courage to sign solo. Perhaps she’d be that star. Maybe they’d all stay in ponyville or go off on grand adventure together, but just then all she needed was her friends by her side.
“Urgh mushy stuff,” Scootaloo groused. “Alright, but when you become a Bridleway star we still want tick–Ack! Sweetie Belle, too tight, too tight!”
No matter how irritating said friends could be.
Exploration of 'Marks are open to interpretation' is done passably well here. The biggest weakness throughout story is a few spots of weak spelling/grammar/punctuation that are wrong or awkward like so::
This sentence doesn't feel like natural language, it scans to me more like trying to approximate the Apple-Accent, but hitting an uncanny valley. The basics are there, but I think punctuation is what's working against you here. For example, I'd have it as:
The words are almost the same (I changed a tiny bit), but you can compare them and at least to me option #2 flows much better - I can hear AJ 'speaking' it in my head much more easily than the original form.
Small typo spotted - 'Moster' instead of 'Monster hunting'.
The last few lines? Those were the strongest, which leaves the story going out on a high note, kudos there.
“Oh don’t worry Sweetie Belle. Ah know how you feel, you’ve got a new path out in front of you and that’s a scary thing. You don’t have to worry your pretty little head about a thing. There ain’t never been a pony alive who didn’t understand their cutie-mark.”
This sentence doesn't feel like natural language, it scans to me more like trying to approximate the Apple-Accent, but hitting an uncanny valley. The basics are there, but I think punctuation is what's working against you here. For example, I'd have it as:
"Oh, don't worry, Sweetie Belle! Ah know how you feel. You've got a new path out in front of you, and that's a scary thing, ain't it? Well, you don't have to worry your pretty little head, ain't never been a pony alive who didn't understand their cutie-mark."
The words are almost the same (I changed a tiny bit), but you can compare them and at least to me option #2 flows much better - I can hear AJ 'speaking' it in my head much more easily than the original form.
Small typo spotted - 'Moster' instead of 'Monster hunting'.
The last few lines? Those were the strongest, which leaves the story going out on a high note, kudos there.
Author, you've got a remarkably endearing tale and I'll go into detail right now. However, for the time being, I'm still giggling like a fool at the thought of Applejack, Apple Whisperer.
With that out of the way, I'll echo Morning's comments about the typos. Some were really noticeable, but it's nothing that a careful examination won't fix.
Regarding the positives, I really liked the whole analysis about the nature of cutie marks. Then again, I've a positive bias in favour of overthinking small details. I also really liked how at her core Diamond Tiara still is the same pony even after her reformation. I also enjoyed the core message about continuous self-discovery and improvement and I feel that's something everyone should learn. Rarity leading by example was also a nice way to bring the story to a close.
Overall, the good outweighs the bad, and this is a heart-warming tale about self-examination. I really liked it.
Also, Sweetie Belle could always be a studio artist. It worked for the Beatles.
With that out of the way, I'll echo Morning's comments about the typos. Some were really noticeable, but it's nothing that a careful examination won't fix.
Regarding the positives, I really liked the whole analysis about the nature of cutie marks. Then again, I've a positive bias in favour of overthinking small details. I also really liked how at her core Diamond Tiara still is the same pony even after her reformation. I also enjoyed the core message about continuous self-discovery and improvement and I feel that's something everyone should learn. Rarity leading by example was also a nice way to bring the story to a close.
Overall, the good outweighs the bad, and this is a heart-warming tale about self-examination. I really liked it.
Also, Sweetie Belle could always be a studio artist. It worked for the Beatles.
Sweetie Belle's "problem" is a bit hard to empathize with; I had the feeling that she was overreacting over something minor. Of course, that's quite in-character for the CMC, but it comes across as a little exasperating.
In fact, I got the vibe that Sweetie Belle knows what her cutie mark probably means (I mean, duh, it's a musical note, not exactly hermetic symbology there), but she refuses to accept the most obvious interpretation (anything but singing on stage!) and thus spends the story mired in denial. That's why she keeps insisting how she has no idea what her mark means; she knows, but she wants to convince herself she doesn't.
I'm not sure if this was deliberate, and if any other readers got the same feeling.
I really liked the little bits of humor spread throughout the story, though. And even though Sweetie Belle's overblown worries made me want to roll my eyes, the entire rest of the story - Diamond Tiara striving to be nice, Scootaloo and Apple Bloom's antics, the adult ponies talking about their marks - was genuinely sweet and a pleasure to read.
In fact, I got the vibe that Sweetie Belle knows what her cutie mark probably means (I mean, duh, it's a musical note, not exactly hermetic symbology there), but she refuses to accept the most obvious interpretation (anything but singing on stage!) and thus spends the story mired in denial. That's why she keeps insisting how she has no idea what her mark means; she knows, but she wants to convince herself she doesn't.
I'm not sure if this was deliberate, and if any other readers got the same feeling.
I really liked the little bits of humor spread throughout the story, though. And even though Sweetie Belle's overblown worries made me want to roll my eyes, the entire rest of the story - Diamond Tiara striving to be nice, Scootaloo and Apple Bloom's antics, the adult ponies talking about their marks - was genuinely sweet and a pleasure to read.
The opening scene takes way too long to make its point; I think it’s safe to assume the average reader has seen Crusaders of the Lost Mark. Get to plot rolling (ie present Sweetie’s doubt) more quickly.
This whole thing needs a solid editing pass to catch missing or misused words and to make the dialogue a little more natural. I don’t hold that against you, though. This is a writeoff, not a thesis defense. What you meant to say was always clear enough.
I’m worried that you’ve run afoul of Rarity’s canon cutie mark story, but I can’t be sure without rewatching the episode. If so, that’s a pity because I like the spin you put on it. You could probably reword Rarity’s explanation slightly to make it clearer that Rarity is telling a more complete version of the cutie mark story she gave on the show (maybe Sweetie Belle even calls her out for ‘embellishing’ the whole thing the first time she told it).
This is a nice story, and adds a pleasant bit of abstraction to cutie marks. It edges on making them a little too abstract, though. Rarity’s quip about Cheerilee for example makes it sound like cutie marks (or at least some cutie marks) don’t really mean much of anything. Rarity’s story is an excellent version of how a mark can mean something important but not everything; if that feeling was infused in the other examples (for the adults anyway) it would help.
This whole thing needs a solid editing pass to catch missing or misused words and to make the dialogue a little more natural. I don’t hold that against you, though. This is a writeoff, not a thesis defense. What you meant to say was always clear enough.
I’m worried that you’ve run afoul of Rarity’s canon cutie mark story, but I can’t be sure without rewatching the episode. If so, that’s a pity because I like the spin you put on it. You could probably reword Rarity’s explanation slightly to make it clearer that Rarity is telling a more complete version of the cutie mark story she gave on the show (maybe Sweetie Belle even calls her out for ‘embellishing’ the whole thing the first time she told it).
This is a nice story, and adds a pleasant bit of abstraction to cutie marks. It edges on making them a little too abstract, though. Rarity’s quip about Cheerilee for example makes it sound like cutie marks (or at least some cutie marks) don’t really mean much of anything. Rarity’s story is an excellent version of how a mark can mean something important but not everything; if that feeling was infused in the other examples (for the adults anyway) it would help.
Genre: Deconstruction
Thoughts: I had difficulty buying the premise here, in part because the Troubleshoes episode is one of my favorites in MLP, and its whole point was to explore how ponies can end up misunderstanding and feeling bad about their cutie marks. And the CMCs were the ones who helped him see things differently. So, yeah.
I struggle to see why Sweetie would be so depressed and think she was broken, when she literally helped a pony out of the same predicament half a season before. The parts where she was wallowing in that seemed draggy.
The parts where Sweetie was reaching out to others, and particularly the discussion with Rarity toward the end, were much stronger. I actually really liked Rarity's story, and I thought it did more to address the central questions the story considered than everything that had come before. >>BlazzingInferno, I *think* it even holds up with canon; I never understood how finding gems in a big-arse rock translated into dressmaking. And then there's the Diamond Dog stuff, and the scene in Gauntlet of Fire where she's mining with Spike. It's maybe a small leap but the story persuaded me to go with it.
So there are both diamonds and rough here. The diamonds are quite good, though.
Tier: Needs Work
Thoughts: I had difficulty buying the premise here, in part because the Troubleshoes episode is one of my favorites in MLP, and its whole point was to explore how ponies can end up misunderstanding and feeling bad about their cutie marks. And the CMCs were the ones who helped him see things differently. So, yeah.
I struggle to see why Sweetie would be so depressed and think she was broken, when she literally helped a pony out of the same predicament half a season before. The parts where she was wallowing in that seemed draggy.
The parts where Sweetie was reaching out to others, and particularly the discussion with Rarity toward the end, were much stronger. I actually really liked Rarity's story, and I thought it did more to address the central questions the story considered than everything that had come before. >>BlazzingInferno, I *think* it even holds up with canon; I never understood how finding gems in a big-arse rock translated into dressmaking. And then there's the Diamond Dog stuff, and the scene in Gauntlet of Fire where she's mining with Spike. It's maybe a small leap but the story persuaded me to go with it.
So there are both diamonds and rough here. The diamonds are quite good, though.
Tier: Needs Work
I don't have much to say here, because one flaw stands out beyond everything else.
This story drags on for too long to make its premise believable. It's already a bit of a stretch that Sweetie Belle wouldn't talk to her friends about her cutie mark from the outset, and her interactions with the other characters seem to take a long time relative to what she learns from them.
Less relevant but still noteworthy: Sweetie Belle not wanting to be a monster hunter is out of character. She's the only Crusader who literally tried to get her mark in monster hunting.
This story drags on for too long to make its premise believable. It's already a bit of a stretch that Sweetie Belle wouldn't talk to her friends about her cutie mark from the outset, and her interactions with the other characters seem to take a long time relative to what she learns from them.
Less relevant but still noteworthy: Sweetie Belle not wanting to be a monster hunter is out of character. She's the only Crusader who literally tried to get her mark in monster hunting.
Two things I found annoying when reading this.
1. The cast is very unsympathetic to Sweetie Belle's plight, and the only one who takes the trouble to sit down and hear her out is Rarity. Not saying she wouldn't, but the fact that she's the only one who took Sweetie Belle's concerns seriously enough to address them sticks in my craw.
Especially Cheerilee. Surely this isn't the first time a foal has asked her a question like that.
2. Sweetie Belle and the others got their cutie marks in helping other people figure out what their cutie marks meant. Or how to find their cutie marks. This is completely lost on both her and the rest of the cast.
Beyond those issues, this was a cute story with some fine dialogue and banter. I think DT hews a little too closely to old!DT for my taste, but her dialogue's at least some of the better stuff in the story.
8/10.
1. The cast is very unsympathetic to Sweetie Belle's plight, and the only one who takes the trouble to sit down and hear her out is Rarity. Not saying she wouldn't, but the fact that she's the only one who took Sweetie Belle's concerns seriously enough to address them sticks in my craw.
Especially Cheerilee. Surely this isn't the first time a foal has asked her a question like that.
2. Sweetie Belle and the others got their cutie marks in helping other people figure out what their cutie marks meant. Or how to find their cutie marks. This is completely lost on both her and the rest of the cast.
Beyond those issues, this was a cute story with some fine dialogue and banter. I think DT hews a little too closely to old!DT for my taste, but her dialogue's at least some of the better stuff in the story.
8/10.