Chapter Text
Comely Material Morning? Eh, there's a few things I could say about her. She's the softer one of the group, for sure. Not exactly confident in herself, but then again, who am I to criticize that? I do admire her closet though, I suppose it comes with her job. Her eyes mimic that of empty outer space, and it contrasts well with her hair and clothes. You could get lost in them if you're not careful. Speaking of hair, I think it's rather cute the way her hair sweeps over her left eye, actually. It makes her more mysterious... until you talk to her, I guess. Oh, what if she's secretly a black horse, and she just dyed her hair pink? Wouldn't that be crazy? A-anyway, Comely carries herself unlike anyone else. She has this weird stance where she always looks like she has something to say, but she doesn't want to say it for fear of offending you. Open book, different language is possibly the best way I could put it. Overall, I feel like she just needs to open up a little more. It's not like anybody's gonna bite her or anything.
The blizzard only grows more violent. It gets to a point where Door Knob can't see a thing about Realism, save for her eyes. A trek up a mountain seems less dangerous at the moment, but there's nothing else for them to do. Wispy pillars of snow continue to layer on them. The march continues. The march continues. The endless template stretches much further beyond the naked eye. The relentless downpour causes Door Knob to lose track of where her counterpart is. Before long, Realism collapses into the snow and Door Knob stops to pick her up. Her breath is shallow and her skin is freezing. The older mare cradles her like one would a child, wraps her in her own coat, and then lifts her into a more bridal style. Door Knob can tell that Realism's consciousness is fading and it forces her to sigh. She tilts her hat downward to keep the cold wind from blasting her face any further, and she carries Realism into a rather nice food place, away from the tundra. It's one of the few places actually open, and Door Knob will take what she can get. A quick conversation with the hostess allows her to find a place for her niece to sit down and rest. She's led to her seat in a booth, and carefully places Realism on the inside so she could protect her if need be. A few people send over suspicious glances and Door Knob covers her face, avoiding any eye contact. She knew how it looked, and it prompted her to shake Realism awake. The gentle rocking of the younger woman's shoulder didn't stir her at all, nor the slight shove after that. It eventually grew to a full on trashing before Realism showed any signs of life again.
She rubs her eyes and grabs hold of Door Knob's arms. "Stop shaking me so hard... My head hurts. And why are we here?"
Door Knob realized that her partner was back in commission and released her grip on her. "Yer dumbass collapsed in the snow and I had to carry ya all the way here. What were ya thinking, wandering so far off like that? I could've lost ya fer real. Be more careful, 'kay?"
Realism looks into Door Knob's pale eyes, noticing some real worry in them. Almost immediately, she regrets her actions. It was awfully stupid to wander alone with the way she looked. There's not much color to her outfit, either. She's adorned in a white, knitted turtleneck and a cardigan with no buttons. The upper body is barely contrasted by a pair of dark gold corduroy pants and bulky white shoes. She has a locket around her neck. A Pegasus dipped in fine jewels and highlights. The russet hat speaks again. "Hey, look at me. We're done. Yer still real cold from out there. We can ask around, maybe get some other folks to give us some answers. I just refuse to let ya kill yerself over her right now."
The Pegasus eyed Door Knob. She had a million things to say in a single sentence, but all that came out was, "Who do we ask first?"
The question racked the older woman, and she peered into the abyss for a moment or two. When she returned from her voyage, a light bulb went off and she slammed her hands on the table. "Good ol' morning."
Realism looks at Door Knob, confused. "What?"
Door Knob nods and chuckles to herself. "Sorry, good ol' Morning. "
It clicks.
"They simply won't make it. I refuse to believe that with this snow, they could find that damned girl."
"You never know. These stubborn fillies know no concept of giving up. Why do you think we let all of them live so long? Even the losers kept coming back for more."
"If this is how they choose to die, then let them. If things start getting serious, the heat will get them."
The pink haired mare stands in the mirror, shoulder turned inward due to tension. Her manager has insisted that this is her biggest job yet. She can't mess this up. She doesn't want to be berated like last time, does she? She looks awfully pretty today. Her swept hair is straightened out and falls down past her shoulders, a pastel pink shirt with white highlights to match her hair is paired with a tie as dark as her eyes and her knee length skirt matches by inverting the palette of the shirt. She's adorable. Her friends tell her that. Her fans tell her that. Hell, even her manager was impressed today. So why doesn't she believe it? Why is it so hard for her to believe in her true image? Her thoughts begin to swirl and a dark cloud forms around her. An alarm goes off behind her in her dressing room, startling her. Like clockwork, her manager storms in with a scowl bigger than Door Knob could muster. The young woman's pupils constrict at the sight of him. She begins to sweat and her breathing is heavy. What could she have done this time? "Comely, you do understand that you're late to the stage, right? Get out there. Now."
Comely nods quietly and runs off onto the stage. Just as that happens, Door Knob and Realism come backstage looking for her. Door Knob stands off to the side, kind of blanketing over the whole area while Realism goes over to each person, asking if they'd seen her. She eventually lands on Comely's manager, and she waves him down. "Hello, sir, can I speak to you for a second?" She smiles at him.
The man turns around to face the Pegasus and he frowns like he's being bothered. "What do you want? I'm quite busy right now, so if you'd make it quick-" He's cut off.
"I'm looking for Comely Material Morning. Would you happen to know where she is? Her and I are close friends of hers." Realism gestures towards Door Knob who glares at the manager.
The man is not intimidated and he grimaces at the both of them. He pushes Realism away physically and grumbles. "She's busy. If you're wanting autographs, you'll have to wait in line like everyone else."
During the slight commotion, Comely notices both Realism and Door Knob behind the curtains. She fully turns to look at them, curious as to why they're here, and her manager shouts at her to keep doing what she was doing. Any wind was knocked out of her sails and she quietly continued onto the stage. Door Knob grabs hold of Comely's manager by the hand, removing his grip from Realism and scowling. "Let's maybe treat a young lady with more respect and care, alright?"
The manager sucks his teeth and scoffs. "With all due respect, old timer, I think I know how to handle a young woman. I'm quite the busy man, as I've said before, so if you'd take your cowgirl ass back to where you came fr-"
The man stands stunned. Realism just smacked the sense out of him. His head snaps back up with hunger rivaling a pack of wolves, but the anger dissipates as soon as he realizes that Door Knob still has quite a strong grip on him. The Pegasus growls at him. "Don't ever speak to her that way again. What you're gonna do is bring Comely to us so we can talk to her. Like I just told you, we are close friends of hers. Ask her yourself."
Comely's Manager mumbles something about after the show, and Door Knob shakes him. "What'd ya say?"
"I said I'll get her after the show ends, alright?" The man stares off into the distance, not really talking directly to either one of them.
Realism looks back at Door Knob and she seems satisfied with the result. Realism smiles and nods. "Good boy. We'll be waiting right over there." She points over to Comely's dressing room.
Not too long after their conversation wraps up, Comely's performance comes to a close and she slinks into backstage. The anxiety from the show is evident on her face and it looks like she's two seconds away from tears. During the whole debacle with Realism and Door Knob, Comely's manager kept a eye on her, and he was disappointed with her performance. Whether it was the embarrassment from the scuffle, or his plain mean attitude, he begins venting his frustrations at the only person who would take them lying down, the pink haired mare. Her lip quivers as she she's berated. She hasn't eaten all day, but to her manager, that's no excuse. All she can do is let the tears roll and hope it prompts him to soften the vitriol, even a little. The commotion makes Realism and Door Knob exchange a glance between each other, and the russet hat comes over, placing a hand on the man's shoulder. He stops instantly. He cranks his head back to look at the woman behind him and slowly peels away from her and Comely. The sight of her old friend makes Comely's dark eyes light up. "Hey, Mom- I-I mean, Miss Door Knob!"
The older mare smiled back at her. "How're ya doin' sweet pea?"
Comely meshes into Door Knob, hugging her tightly and laying her head on the taller woman's chest. "I'm doing real good now that you're here! But, I haven't seen any of the other girls in a few weeks. Surely you two aren't here just to see me perform. I'm not that great, y'know."
Door Knob chuckles, patting Comely on the head. "As much as I'd like to say that me and Realism are here to see you, we do need to ask you for a favor. Of course, it's completely fine if you say no." The russet hat speaks with a softness towards her pastel counterpart.
Comely thinks about it for a second, then nods her head. "Anything for you guys. What do you need?"
Around this time Realism comes over to talk to the both of them, and Door Knob allows her to explain the situation. "We haven't seen ████ in over a month. I'm seriously worried about her. We know you have at least a few connections and I was really hoping you could maybe contact a few people to keep an eye out if they see her?" Realism clasps her hands together and awkwardly smiles.
Comely nods excitedly. She fishes her phone out of her pocket and begins texting a few people. "O-of course I can help with that! I'd love to, even! I'll let everyone know who to look for. If we find something, they'll tell me, and I'll shoot you call!"
Realism breathes a shaky sigh of relief. For once, the adrenaline and stress in her muscle seems to relax. "How long do you think it'll take? I mean, there's no rush, but... I'm a little anxious, y'know?"
Comely nods. "You'll be the first to know. It shouldn't take longer than a week."
Door Knob seems satisfied, bidding her temporary goodbyes with Comely, and Realism is prompted to do so as well. They return to Realism's home in the snow, And with that, the Pegasus waits. She waits. She waits. Waiting. It's not horrible. She understands she's waiting for something, but... waiting. During the newfound free time that both of them have, Realism and Door Knob spend some quality time together. They're both awfully lonely, so having company around doesn't hurt. The weather has been getting a little nicer recently. A lot less snow, the area has actually become walkable again. The blizzard subsides. For once, people may walk the streets again without risking their lives. Unfortunately, having free time means they're still Waiting. Waiting. Until she waits no more. Realism's phone rings, but she's still asleep. It goes to voicemail. Then, downstairs, Door Knob's phone rings. She picks up at the first ring. "Mhm? What is it, sweet pea?"
Quiet mumbling comes from the other side of the phone. "I think we found her. Somewhere near that bar you were in sometime last week?"
Door Knob is excited about the news, but she's suspicious about her supposedly tracked whereabouts. "And tell me, how'd ya know I was down there last week?"
There was audible worry in the pink mare's voice over the phone. "O-Oh, right! Don't worry, I wasn't like... tracking you or anything. It's just, I know the owner, and one of his employees mentioned you being there, and it's kinda this weird game of telephone..." She trails off.
"I'm rambling again, aren't I?" The shame in her voice was evident.
Door Knob grinned and sighed. "Ya are, but don't worry about it, sweet pea. Yer fine. I'll make sure to wake up sleeping beauty and we can meet you over there. See you around noon?"
Comely shakes off the embarrassment and speaks more happily. "Just like our races?"
Door Knob sighs again. This girl. "Just like our races."
The flip phone in Door Knob's hand folded in half.
"Are you concerned at all?"
"Not exactly. If they get too close, I have a surefire way to deter them. I'm not sure they'll want to pursue her after the pop goes off."
"Urgh... You're always so violent about these things, you know that?"
"Of course I am. My methods work."
Noon arrives quicker than anticipated. Realism, Door Knob and Comely meet up together in front of The Horseshoe in the same clothes from last week. "So, what exactly are we looking for here?" Door Knob sighs.
Comely stumbles over her words. "W-well, one of my buddies said that uhm... We should look around the area. They were pretty insistent about this area. M-maybe... Maybe she is here."
Realism cuts the conversation with her voice. "Whether or not she's here, it's worth a quick look around, at the very least."
The trio come to a mutual agreement and begin their arduous search. No stone goes unturned and not a single surface is skipped over. No luck. For any of them. Door Knob is exhausted and Comely's prepared to give up too. Just as Realism is about to pack it up and go home, a flash... rather, a hallucination startles her into a frightened lucidity. She cautiously follows where the wisp had gone. She sees it again. A strand of hair laid alone on the ground. Realism couldn't mistake it. It was her. She continued the path that her target did. Her soul pursued faster than her legs could carry her. The scent of her partner lingered in the air, still fresh. Her lungs screamed. She was never this fast, why couldn't she catch up to her? Huffing and puffing, her determination won out and it led her into an alleyway. She fell to a knee, and tried desperately to gain her breath back. Upon looking up, she met the gaze of her sought after counterpart. Her heart smiled for her and tears began to roll down her cheek. "████, is that you? Please tell me it's you. Please..."
The ████ mare stared at her confused. The unfamiliar look implanted a deep fear in Realism's stomach. "I'm sorry, who are you? I don't go by that name."
Realism stands back up and frowns. "That's ridiculous. You're ████. I know you are. You have to be. You at least remember me, right? My name? Superstitional Realism?"
The impostor stares at trembling Pegasus with hollow eyes and a neutral expression. "I've never heard of you. Are you... some sort of racehorse? I know White... and Jovial Merryment. I can't remember any more though."
Realism begins to hyperventilate, this isn't her loving companion. This is... someone else entirely. She was wrong. But she wasn't. There's no way she could be. She knew her. How she acted, the way she moved. This mare. She was damn near a clone of her. Upon closer inspection, Realism notices a single difference. Her mane is ever so slightly darker. Only by a shade, maybe two. Realism sighs. Maybe it was time to rest. She breaks eye contact with the doppelganger for only a moment. "If you're not ████, who are you?"
"Who am I? That's an abstract question, y'know? Are you-" Realism cuts her off.
"Cut the shit if you aren't her, what is your name? Who do you identify as?" A tinge of anger clouds her voice.
A vacant smile replaces the once blank face. "I'm Garbage Bin. A winner, unlike who you're looking for."
The statement instantly sets Realism off. "Don't call her that, you cheap imitation!" She does a full 180, turning and kicking at the girl in front of her, but her foot phases through her. The revelation shocks Realism. Garbage Bin laughs. "You look crazy, talking to a wall like that. If you don't mind me, There's someone else I should be tormenting right about now."
She fades into the shadows, her misty form clearing as both Comely and Door Knob find Realism standing in the alleyway alone. The older mare calls out to her. "Hey, Realism. Why're ya standing there? Found somethin'?"
Realism's head snaps back to her senior. "I... uh... I don't..."
Comely comes closer to Realism, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Maybe we should take a break? You seem really tired. We can come up with a new idea, regroup maybe?"
The thought doesn't seem so bad to Realism, but the previous interaction has her shaken. How could she explain to them what just happened? It's not like they'll believe she followed a ghost who mocked her. Realistically, she wouldn't believe herself if she said that. She didn't believe it when it was in front of her eyes. Her awkward silence leads Comely to speak again, hoping to break the trance. "Hey Realism? Are you in there? I-I said that maybe we should-"
"I heard you the first time. And... Yeah, we can go back to my place if you're both okay with that."
Comely looks back at Door Knob, who nods in approval. Comely places Realism's hand in hers and guides her out of the alley, the both of them following the russet hat and her footsteps. It doesn't take too long for the group to reach Realism's home. The quartz house on the end of the street looked much brighter without the snow camouflaging it. As they unwind inside, Door Knob leaves the living room to go upstairs for a moment. In the moment, Realism decides to try her best to explain what happened in the alley. "Hey, Comely? Can you promise not to laugh when I tell you this?"
Comely looks over in the direction of Realism and smiles softly, inviting the chat. "O-Of course. I wouldn't laugh at you for anything... What's on your mind?"
The Pegasus stared at the floor as she recounted her brief tale. She was careful to detail each feeling and event in order, missing nothing. Comely listens intently, sincerely caring about her cousin. Once Realism wraps up, Comely speaks quietly. "I believe you. A-and I understand why you think Door Knob wouldn't. She's more Realism, and I'm Superstitional."
The name based joke forces a laugh out of Realism. "That one sucked and you know it."
Comely chuckles. She gets up from the rocking chair across from her cousin to sit next to her on the couch and she gives her a tight hug. "I know, but I hate to see you upset. It's like watching light itself cry."
Realism sighs. This girl knew how to push her buttons. "I'm not that great y'know."
"You are to me." Comely responds, grinning ear to ear.
Unbeknownst to the two girls sitting downstairs, Door Knob was listening in on their conversation. She had closed her eyes, focusing all her energy into eavesdropping. Comely was right. Door Knob didn't believe the story. But she also knew that Realism wasn't a liar. Sitting on the dark staircase out of view from her younger racers, she quietly muttered to herself. "We have to keep trying. We have to keep trying."