//------------------------------// // Suck // Story: How to Disappear Completely // by shortskirtsandexplosions //------------------------------// "Move it, ya lazy turkeys!" Spitfire hollered, circling above the edge of High Paw. The Midnight Oil hovered at a distance. Meanwhile, the Wonderbolts were busy depositing the last of the crates down along the top of the plateau where a few well-armed members of Typhoon's Crew had already landed. They opened the containers one by one while Spitfire continued her severe form of coaching: "We've wasted enough valuable time as it is! Are we ponies or are we mules?! No lazing about! Get those boxes open! On the double!" Flash stood several feet away, leaning against a rock and wiping the sweat from his brow. Collectively, he and Soarin' and a few other Wonderbolts had carried a total of three crates. It was remarkable work—given the time constraints. Now, a miniature hot air balloon was slowly descending from the Midnight Oil, no doubt carrying Blueblood, Fancy Pants, and Filthy Rich. For the moment, though, Flash was too busy trying to ignore Spitfire's obnoxious raspiness—and failing. Thankfully, it was around that time that Soarin' shuffled up and filled the air with his trademark Disney's Aladdin voice. "Think about it this way, dude." He smirked, slipping off his cowl so he could dry the sweat lining his blue forehead. "If there's one way to convince the diamond dogs that we're a bunch of tough cookies, having Spitfire on the front line helps." "Yeah, well..." Flash sighed. "Doesn't make her any cooler in my eyes." "The Captain of the Wonderbolts has precisely the kind of attitude that's needed to run a squadron like ours," Soarin' said. "Yeah... I guess so..." Flash folded his forelimbs. "Kinda explains why you're so tired of it." "It's not that I'm tired of it." Soarin' shrugged. "I'm just less ambitious." "Still, it's obvious you've been around a super long time." "I can't help it," Soarin' said with a slight smile. "Spitfire needs me." "More like she needs someone to bitch at." "If it helps." Flash exhaled, gazing across the plateau. "She doesn't know how lucky she is." He swallowed. "Very few of us do." "I know how lucky she is," Soarin' said. "And yet you're okay with all the lameness?" Soarin' shrugged. "Could be worse." Flash thought about that. He didn't have to think long. "Yeah..." His ears drooped as he gazed down at the sterile stone surface of High Paw. Like a bedroom drenched in gray. "Very true." Soarin' casually shuffled over and leaned against the same rock that Flash was propped against. All was silent—save for the gusts of wind that carried Spitfire's echoing voice. "You know that I'm alright with it," Soarin' said. "Hmmm?" Flash looked over. "Alright with what?" "Wherever you're actually from." Flash's brow furrowed. "What if I'm from a super nasty place?" "Doesn't matter." Soarin' stifled a yawn. "You're not a super nasty pony." He managed a sly wink. "'Stereotypes,' remember? Buck 'em." Flash chuckled slightly, but it didn't last long. "It's a really... really nasty place." "Is that why you're here, then?" "Hmm?" "In Equestria?" Soarin' asked. Flash bit his lip. "My bad, dude," Soarin' breathed. "I guess I shouldn't pry." "I... don't know where to begin." Flash hugged himself slightly. The wind gusts felt extra cold, suddenly. "I-I'm not sure I want to begin." "A bit too real, huh?" Flash nodded nervously. Soarin' slicked his mane back. "Y'know... I've heard countless ponies praise the Wonderbolts. 'It must be so awesome to fly so fast and to do so many awesome tricks' they all say. And... it's kind of the same for pegasi in general. I can't measure how many times—since childhood, even—that earth ponies and unicorns have trotted up to me and went 'Dude, flying must be soooo cool! I wish I could just... flap my own wings and get away from it all!' But then these ponies don't know the same sobering truth that I do... that no matter how fast you can fly or how many dazzling midair tricks you can pull off... there are some things in life you just can't outrace." Flash slowly closed his eyes. Soarin' looked over. "Wherever you're from... however nasty it may or may not be... one thing's for sure. You brought it with you." Flash grimaced into the darkness. "I'm s-sorry..." "What for?" Soarin' smiled sweetly. "From what I can tell, you brought only the good parts." To that, Flash Sentry opened his eyes. He turned to look at Soarin'. Soarin' gazed back, kind and patient. Flash swallowed a lump down his throat. "What makes you so certain you can trust me?" Soarin' scratched his chin. "Well... from the sound of things... Princess Luna did." "You only know that cuz I told you." "So maybe I'm taking a chance." "So maybe you're stupid." "I think the word we agreed on was 'ambitious.' And besides..." Soarin' chuckled. "I've put my faith in Spitfire for years. What's the harm in believing in a swell dude for a day?" He smirked. "Don't you believe in adventure." "I... guess you could say that 'adventure' brought me here." "Perhaps even 'stupidity.'" Flash laughed at that. Soarin' had a chuckle as well. Eventually, Flash exhaled, and the words that came out of his muzzle didn't entirely surprise him. "Girls totally suck, don't they?" "I can think of something that sucks even more," Soarin' said. But Flash was already nodding. "Guys who obsess with girls who suck." Soarin' cocked his head aside. "Do you feel like talking about her now?" Flash tried hard not to grimace. With pained eyes, he looked across the plateau. "The negotiations..." "They'll begin when they begin. Seems like the canines of High Paw are taking their sweet time," Soarin' said. "I've got my eyes where they need to be. Now—if you need them—you've got my ears." Flash stood still. Stiff. Cold. For the first time since he limped through the mirror, he felt as if the blurring, spinning world had finally, absolutely screeched to a halt. He was encumbered by a rush of blood to the head... and somewhat disappointed that it didn't cause him to faint. After all, that would have been too convenient.