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Organised by
RogerDodger
Word limit
400–750
Applying Herself
The office of Power Word, the hiring manager of the Diarchs’ School for Gifted Unicorns, could be summed up in a single word: Meticulous. Every file was in its place, every shelf dusted, every arcane geegaw on his desk as carefully positioned as he could manage without a T-square, and only then because his wife and secretary had conspired to keep him from bringing one to work.
A jewel-cut crystal set into the desk lit up and emitted that secretary’s voice. “Patricia Lulamoon is here for her interview, sir.”
Power sighed. This would likely be… messy. “Show her in.”
The door opened and a blue-coated mare walked in, attractive, but with a few wrinkles starting to set in. She sat in the chair opposite Power wordlessly.
“Ms. Lulamoon.” Power extended his blue-gray hoof. After the mare bumped it, he took her application in his magic, knocking the stack of papers against the desk to align it. “You’re here for the available illusion professorship, yes?”
Ms. Lulamoon nodded. “That’s correct.”
Power Word took a deep breath. “I'm afraid you presented us with a rather troublesome quandry.”
“Oh?”
“Indeed. Now, nopony can deny that you’re qualified for the position.” Power pulled her resume out of the pile. “Eight years' field experience, ten years teaching at Ponyville Academy, founding member of the Iron Will Institute for Remedial Pronoun Use…”
Ms. Lulamoon smirked. “I’m sensing a ‘but.’”
Power nodded. “I’m afraid so. There's a great deal in your favor, but...”
She sighed. “The Alicorn Amulet incident.”
“Precisely.”
Ms. Lulamoon rolled her eyes. “I've been screened for dark magic residue every year since that debacle, to say nothing of the royal pardon.”
“Yes, but you must understand,” said Power, “the Diarchs’ School for Gifted Unicorns has a certain reputation.”
“And I would sully it?”
Power sucked a breath through his teeth. “Not exactly, and therein lies the problem. You see, while we're proud to say that the best and brightest attend DSGU, we must admit, so to do the worst and darkest. For every Twilight Sparkle, there’s a Starlight Glimmer.”
Ms. Lulamoon shrugged. “It’s right in the name. Gifted unicorns go to this school, Mr. Word. During my brief time spent here, one lesson I took to heart was that while a spell may be light or dark, it is never good or evil. The burden of morality lies with the mage, not the magic.”
Power nodded. “Well said. However, the fact remains that hiring a registered dark magician could send a worrisome message to parents.”
“And that was the only concern about my application?” asked Ms. Lulamoon, crossing her forelegs.
Power narrowed his eyes. “Are you implying something, Ms. Lulamoon?”
“All I’m saying is that any negative message caused by hiring a registered dark magician would no doubt be exacerbated if you hired one who had dropped out from the school.” She gave a humorless laugh. “Not only might she corrupt the foals, she didn’t even need to attend the school to learn how to do so.”
“Really, Ms. Lulamoon,” Power huffed, “I like to think that the faculty is above such petty politics.”
“I’m not hearing a ‘No.’” Ms. Lulamoon held up a hoof against Power’s sputtering. “Please, Mr. Word, just cut to the chase. We both know this interview is little more than a formality.”
“Well…” The word hung in the air for a moment as Power tried to determine what should follow it. “It’s actually more complicated than that.”
Ms. Lulamoon tilted her head. “How so?”
“It ended up being a split decision among the committee. This interview is much more crucial than you seem to think.” Power took a deep breath. Hopefully they would be on familiar ground henceforth. “So, why do you think we should take you on board?”
Ms. Lulamoon thought about this for a fair bit of time. Finally, she said, “Well, I suppose a point in Trixie’s favor might be that I’m actually a full-sensory illusory construct. Trixie is having a nostalgic moment at the original Donut Joe’s at the moment. Honestly, she figured you’d reject her out of hoof, so she sent me to show you what you’d be passing up.” She gave an awkward grin. “She never seriously considered this possibility.”
Power blinked. Without turning his head, he telekinetically opened the the middle-right drawer of his desk, grabbed the bottle two hooves in, opened it, and extracted and swallowed one of the antacids. No, definitely not familiar ground.
A jewel-cut crystal set into the desk lit up and emitted that secretary’s voice. “Patricia Lulamoon is here for her interview, sir.”
Power sighed. This would likely be… messy. “Show her in.”
The door opened and a blue-coated mare walked in, attractive, but with a few wrinkles starting to set in. She sat in the chair opposite Power wordlessly.
“Ms. Lulamoon.” Power extended his blue-gray hoof. After the mare bumped it, he took her application in his magic, knocking the stack of papers against the desk to align it. “You’re here for the available illusion professorship, yes?”
Ms. Lulamoon nodded. “That’s correct.”
Power Word took a deep breath. “I'm afraid you presented us with a rather troublesome quandry.”
“Oh?”
“Indeed. Now, nopony can deny that you’re qualified for the position.” Power pulled her resume out of the pile. “Eight years' field experience, ten years teaching at Ponyville Academy, founding member of the Iron Will Institute for Remedial Pronoun Use…”
Ms. Lulamoon smirked. “I’m sensing a ‘but.’”
Power nodded. “I’m afraid so. There's a great deal in your favor, but...”
She sighed. “The Alicorn Amulet incident.”
“Precisely.”
Ms. Lulamoon rolled her eyes. “I've been screened for dark magic residue every year since that debacle, to say nothing of the royal pardon.”
“Yes, but you must understand,” said Power, “the Diarchs’ School for Gifted Unicorns has a certain reputation.”
“And I would sully it?”
Power sucked a breath through his teeth. “Not exactly, and therein lies the problem. You see, while we're proud to say that the best and brightest attend DSGU, we must admit, so to do the worst and darkest. For every Twilight Sparkle, there’s a Starlight Glimmer.”
Ms. Lulamoon shrugged. “It’s right in the name. Gifted unicorns go to this school, Mr. Word. During my brief time spent here, one lesson I took to heart was that while a spell may be light or dark, it is never good or evil. The burden of morality lies with the mage, not the magic.”
Power nodded. “Well said. However, the fact remains that hiring a registered dark magician could send a worrisome message to parents.”
“And that was the only concern about my application?” asked Ms. Lulamoon, crossing her forelegs.
Power narrowed his eyes. “Are you implying something, Ms. Lulamoon?”
“All I’m saying is that any negative message caused by hiring a registered dark magician would no doubt be exacerbated if you hired one who had dropped out from the school.” She gave a humorless laugh. “Not only might she corrupt the foals, she didn’t even need to attend the school to learn how to do so.”
“Really, Ms. Lulamoon,” Power huffed, “I like to think that the faculty is above such petty politics.”
“I’m not hearing a ‘No.’” Ms. Lulamoon held up a hoof against Power’s sputtering. “Please, Mr. Word, just cut to the chase. We both know this interview is little more than a formality.”
“Well…” The word hung in the air for a moment as Power tried to determine what should follow it. “It’s actually more complicated than that.”
Ms. Lulamoon tilted her head. “How so?”
“It ended up being a split decision among the committee. This interview is much more crucial than you seem to think.” Power took a deep breath. Hopefully they would be on familiar ground henceforth. “So, why do you think we should take you on board?”
Ms. Lulamoon thought about this for a fair bit of time. Finally, she said, “Well, I suppose a point in Trixie’s favor might be that I’m actually a full-sensory illusory construct. Trixie is having a nostalgic moment at the original Donut Joe’s at the moment. Honestly, she figured you’d reject her out of hoof, so she sent me to show you what you’d be passing up.” She gave an awkward grin. “She never seriously considered this possibility.”
Power blinked. Without turning his head, he telekinetically opened the the middle-right drawer of his desk, grabbed the bottle two hooves in, opened it, and extracted and swallowed one of the antacids. No, definitely not familiar ground.