//------------------------------// // 9+9: Cider Pressure // Story: Hold It Together // by OverUnderCookened //------------------------------// It was officially fall in Ponyville. This, as it turns out, was a lot more intentional than Lapis Print had expected - Mayor Mare had made an announcement and everything. It seemed like every gust of chilly wind and every patch of iron-gray cloud was accompanied by a pegasus wearing a hat and a badge, and while Lapis was used to coming across the occasional Earth-pony who was busy talking to plants, he could swear he’d seen a tree’s leaves start going red during such a conversation. The results of all these preparations, whether or not some of them were happening, was familiar enough. The foliage of Ponyville’s numerous trees was turning to every hue of fire (and also brown,) the morning grass was silvered with sparkling frost, and rains were frequent and cold enough that Lapis was beginning to regret leaving his rain-cloak in Twilight’s possession. He was not, however, regretful enough to reclaim the cloak - thanks to the schedule Lyra had provided, it was shockingly easy to plan for the weather. What made things less easy, however, was the roofwork. It was still the same labor as usual, no more or less frequent on average - except now, all of the roofing requests were being delivered by the same pony, the one with the messy hoofwriting. And whoever they were, they seemed to think it was fine to deliver their requests in batches, so that Lapis would wake up some mornings to find his entire request board plastered with hastily-scribbled notes. Today had been one such day, and Lapis was more than relieved to be through with the day’s labor and in his basement. This evening, though… this evening was special. Lapis had spent the time since the stampede using every spare moment he could get to perfect his latest work of artifice, and this evening was time for the first test. It looked a lot like an undersized, metal-edged pallet, thanks to the central wooden platform. There were, however, a few big differences - there was a pair of iron joysticks near one corner of the device, which were easily the most complicated part of the whole contraption. The joysticks would both extract mana from the telekinesis of any unicorn who grabbed them, and direct the flow of that mana into the eight aluminum-encased mana siphons set at regular intervals around the edges of the platform. The siphons, in turn, Lapis had salvaged from the wreckage of his mana compressor - although, after some design refinement and thrust-generation-to-mass testing, Lapis was beginning to think of the siphons as turbines, instead. Lapis finished securing the last board in place, then took a deep breath before glancing over at his workbench. “I think it’s ready to test now. You ready?” From atop Lapis’ workbench, Nikki looked up from the bowl of birdseed she’d been pecking at, then nodded. She kept a careful eye on the platform as Lapis stepped atop it, continuing to munch away at her meal as Lapis ignited his horn and took hold of the joystick. He felt the familiar draining sensation from his horn, and braced himself. For a second, nothing happened. Two seconds, then three, then five. Then, with a rattle that grew into a thrum, the turbines came to life. Warm, buttery-yellow light poured from the quartz crystals at their ends, and the platform wobbled, then began to rise off the ground. Lapis’ legs felt shaky, but he couldn’t tell whether this was from the magical exertion of running the platform, the turbines’ vibration carrying partway up into his legs, or simply from sheer astonishment at already being a foot - make that one and a half - above the basement floor. Nikki continued to peck at her birdseed atop Lapis’ workbench, looking thoroughly unimpressed by his altitude. Lapis, meanwhile, pushed one of the joysticks to the left - and the platform immediately began to move to the right at a pace somewhere between flowing molasses and pond water. Okay. Controls are backwards, movement is painfully slow, but the platform seems to be basically steady so far, and it’s going to take a lot of work to drive into anything. Time to find out if the up-and-down works. Lapis carefully began to push the other joystick forward, and the thrum of the platform’s turbines rose to a higher pitch as he began to float higher. To Lapis’ relief, he didn’t seem to be encountering any kind of deceleration curve, which meant that if the platform had a maximum altitude, it was quite a bit higher than he could test in his basement. Cool. I was worried I’d made a hovercraft instead of an actual flying platform, but it looks like I got it right on the money- A dull spike of pain shot through Lapis’ skull as his horn collided with the ceiling, point-first. Lapis yelped, pulling his head down and releasing the joysticks from his telekinetic grip as he reached up to rub his horn with a hoof. Ow… damn, that’s even worse than stubbing your toe- It was at this point that the turbines ran out of mana, and the platform dropped out from under Lapis’ hooves. Lapis barely had time to gasp as the wooden floor rushed up to meet him- Lapis landed, his legs buckling beneath him, the force of the impact pressing an oof from his body. There was a sharp crunching noise, and Lapis froze, his eyes shooting wide open. Was that bone? Did I break something? Nikki shot Lapis a concerned look as he carefully stood up and patted himself down. Lapis found no broken bones, and he took the opportunity to heave a sigh of relief, then started checking over the platform to see what had actually broken. He found the culprit shortly afterward - one of the quartz crystals he was using for a turbine had been broken, an especially rough, cloudy section crumbling away to reveal a small, clear, glassy-smooth facet beneath. Great, Lapis thought, grimacing. Now I’ve got to recalibrate the joysticks. Nikki gave a questioning coo as Lapis telekinetically gripped the joysticks, and Lapis waved a hoof in her general direction as the platform lifted off the ground a few seconds later. “I’m good, just, uh… Huh.” The broken crystal was still working, mostly - the platform was now listing to one side, but in the opposite direction to the one Lapis had expected, so that the damaged crystal was higher off the ground. And the damaged crystal… The coat of magic around Lapis’ horn was a simple, vaguely coffee-colored brown. For whatever reason, both flipping out or running his magic through quartz crystals caused the color of his magic to grow brighter and less saturated, turning it to a candlelight-colored sort of orangeish-yellow. The new facet on the quartz crystal, however, had added a new transformation - most of the magic now streaming from the crystal’s facet was coming out in trailing, Aurora-Borealis-like sheets of pure sulfur-yellow, but there were also ribbons of orange and an occasional thread of red. Lapis glanced between the broken crystal and the tilted platform, his brow furrowing in confusion. “Well, whatever’s going on here, it looks like this guy is making more thrust than the rest of these, now,” he said, glancing over at Nikki, who had gone back to pecking at her birdseed. “I knew it took bigger crystals to handle more powerful spells, but maybe the cut or the clarity of the crystal determines how well it handles them? …No, that wouldn’t explain whatever prism-stuff this guy is doing. Weird.” Nikki shrugged, then tossed the last sunflower seed from her bowl into the air, catching it in her beak as it fell back down. Lapis released the joysticks, waited for the turbines to cut off, then turned the platform upside-down and set it on the floor. A short while later, he’d popped the defective quartz crystal loose from its housing and set it on his workbench, resolving to investigate it later. Between the magical exertion of running the platform and the rest of the day’s labor, Lapis was just about ready to get some sleep. “Bedtime,” Lapis yawned, and Nikki flapped over from the workbench, perching atop Lapis’ head as he headed up the stairs. He paused halfway up to grab Luna’s book, levitating it over to his side before continuing into the closet. “So where were you, anyway?” Lapis asked, glancing up at Nikki as he stepped out of the closet and into his storefront. “I thought you might’ve flown south for the winter.” Nikki smirked, rolling her eyes, then made a kind of circling gesture with her wing. “You’ve been around?” Lapis guessed, cocking an eyebrow as Nikki nodded. “Should’ve figured you’d stay through the winter, honestly. I mean, I’ve got a whole warm house I’m letting you use, plus I provide birdseed-” There was a knock at the door, and Lapis cut himself off, turning toward the door. “Huh. You think it’s a customer?” Nikki shook her head, then took off, perching on the counter as Lapis walked over to the door and pulled it open. “Oh, hey, Bon Bon. What’s going on?” “Tomorrow’s cider day,” Bon Bon said, a sharp grin splitting her face. “Lyra and I are camping out in line, and you’re doing it with us.” Lapis shared a confused glance with Nikki, then looked back at Bon Bon, cocking an eyebrow. “I am?” “Oh, yes you are,” Bon Bon said, nodding firmly. “You’ve never had a Ponyville cider day before, it’s as much a Ponyville tradition as Hearth’s Warming Eve. -Although, Pinkie Pie does think it was all her idea, as of this year.” Lapis blinked. “Sorry, what?” “Oh, yeah,” Bon Bon said, waving her hoof. “So, I heard this from a mutual acquaintance, but apparently, it only occurred to Pinkie this afternoon that she could try getting ready for cider season a whole day in advance. The rest of town’s been doing it for as long as I’ve been here, but I guess that either nopony ever mentioned that to Pinkie, or else she never noticed.” Lapis shrugged. “Could be either. …Might be both, actually.” “Anyway, Lyra’s already getting the tent set up,” Bon Bon said. “You just grab a pillow and a spare blanket or two, and we’ll be off. …You do have spare blankets, right?” “Uh,” Lapis said. “Do the ones on my guest bed count?” Bon Bon paused, then shrugged. “Alright, I guess we’re stopping at a general store first. C’mon, grab your pillow and we’ll go.” “…Alrighty then,” Lapis said, setting Luna’s book on the counter and igniting his horn. Bon Bon glanced at the book as Lapis’ pillow levitated itself from down the hall. “Have you written to her yet?” “Well, she writes to me, mostly,” Lapis said. “Nikki, you coming with?” Nikki nodded, then took off from the counter, landing atop Lapis’ head as he pulled the door shut behind himself and started down the road with Bon Bon. To Lapis’ surprise, it seemed like he and Bon Bon weren’t the only ponies with plans to camp outside Sweet Apple Acres - it was nearly sunset, and the rosy evening light was already dim enough that most ponies weren’t out on the streets, but those who were all seemed to be bearing either bundles of cloth or large wooden poles across their backs. “So, what did you-know-who write to you about?” Bon Bon asked, looking around at the other ponies. Lapis shrugged. “Little chunks of research, mostly. Nothing about a way back home, but she was recently able to tell me a little bit about Gara Pinion. Gara was a griffon, first off, and she was kind of a busy… uh, bird. What she did over in Griffonstone, we don’t know, but she wound up handling a lot of ancient Equestria’s logistical stuff - what trade shipments went through which towns or arrived at which ports, what organizations were in charge of which goods-” “I know what logistics are,” Bon Bon quickly cut in. “Have you talked to her about your academic prospects?” Oh. “Uh, not so much, no,” Lapis said. “Really?” Bon Bon asked, shooting Lapis a flat look. “Yeah, I was kind of expecting her to bring it up at some point, but so far, she hasn’t,” Lapis said, shrugging as he walked. “Honestly, I’m not sure she knows.” “Right,” Bon Bon muttered. It was at this point that Bon Bon’s face adopted an imposing, almost official-looking half-scowl that Lapis found very familiar. It combined an unblinking stare, a very particular concentration of drooping around her lower eyelids, and a sharp downward angle at one corner of her mouth. It was the half-scowl of a pony who had stayed awake all though a night that was six hours longer than usual, helped to calm an entire panicking town through the duration, and then concluded the evening by fighting a demon from myth and legend. In other words, it was clear to Lapis that Bon Bon was very nearly done with this shit, and that the next problem to exist in her vicinity would very likely get tackled to the ground. And, somehow, Lapis had a sneaking suspicion that he was somewhere in the queue. Lapis glanced up at Nikki, then turned to look at Bon Bon. “Listen, I know that it’s a big deal. I get it, I promise.” “She offered,” Bon Bon enunciated, “to fund, your education. And pay off your loan. She did. The big one! Her! ‘Big deal’ is kind of an understatement!” “Exactly,” Lapis said, as they stopped walking. “It’s not just a big deal, it’s huge. Like, change-my-life-forever huge. Lyra walked me through the implications already. I have an idea of what I stand to gain here, and I’m really not sure what I might have to give in exchange.” Bon Bon sighed, rubbing her forehead with a hoof. “Lapis, please just think about this for a second. She collects all the taxes in Equestria. Even with the funding that goes toward infrastructure, defense, the economy, whatever else, she has more bits than she knows what to do with - You’re like a thirsty ant to her! All you need is a drop of water, and she has a whole kitchen sink. On top of that, you’re already in touch with her sister, so giving over those few thousand bits is basically common courtesy.” “Then why offer it to me as a scholarship?” Lapis asked, raising a hoof. Bon Bon sighed, then gave Lapis a flat look. “Lapis, you invent stuff in your spare time. Not only that, you write down how you did it. That makes you a more productive member of Equestrian society than… oh, just about everypony else I know. You’re about two steps away from reshaping the lives of everypony in Equestria, and all you need is a little financial push. To Her Highness, you’re an investment, and I’d say you’ve got a pretty high payoff-” “Bon Bon, what happened the last time someone saw me as an investment?” Lapis asked. Bon Bon opened her mouth - then, slowly, she closed it, the look of annoyance sliding away to reveal a wide-eyed grimace of faintly-embarrassed realization. “Oh,” Bon Bon said. “Oh, boy.” “Yeah,” Lapis said, lowering his voice. “Bon Bon, I’m trying to think about this reasonably. I’ve done the mental math, and all my reason says that there’s nothing to worry about. But I trusted my reasoning with my loan, too, and look where that got me. Plus, thanks to the whole prophecy thing, it’s not just me or my family I’m worried about! The entire future is at stake - that’s millions of ponies, maybe more, who might live in utopia or a nightmare or - hell, maybe never even be born at all, depending on what I do. I am terrified, Bon Bon. I don’t make good decisions when I’m terrified, and I really, really can’t afford to fuck up here. Can we please not have this talk until I’ve calmed down a little?” Bon Bon hesitated, then sighed, her ears cocking back. “Alright, we can do that. …You still haven’t explained what ‘fuck’ means, by the way.” Lapis blinked, then grinned, shaking his head. “Trust me, it’s not the kind of thing you explain in public. …But thanks, Bon Bon.” Bon Bon smirked, rolling her eyes. “Don’t mention it.” Around fifteen minutes later, they arrived outside Sweet Apple Acres. Lapis had followed the example of the other ponies, draping his new blanket and his pillow over his back. The line was already enormous, continuing around the Apple family property and out of sight for as far as Lapis could see. Despite the enormous size of the line of tents, spotting Lyra was easy - she was standing in front of an enormous, rumpled pile of dark green cloth, frantically trying to prop it upright against itself using her horn and hooves. “How’s the tent coming?” Bon Bon asked, as they walked over. “Need a hoof?” “Nah,” Lyra said, turning to look at them just as the tent collapsed. “I’ve totally been camping before, I know how to make a tent work- Oh, hey, Lapis, Nikki! Glad you’re here!” “Yeah, Bon Bon wouldn’t let me miss out,” Lapis said, looking at the pile of rough green fabric behind Lyra. “…Uh, aren’t the stakes supposed to go outside the tent?” “Ooh,” Lyra said, her eyes widening. “-I mean, uh, yeah! I knew that! I just… figured it might be easier to get them in once the rest of the tent was standing up already.” Lapis tried to suppress a grin. “Maybe, yeah. Alright, I’ll hold the poles up on this side, you take the other, and Bon Bon can take care of the stakes…” And, within around thirty seconds, the pile of rough green cloth had resolved itself into a large and slightly crooked tent. Bon Bon had managed to bury each stake in the ground with a single stomp each, and Lapis had been busy enough surreptitiously holding Lyra’s side upright that he’d forgotten to pay attention to his own. Still, the tent managed to appear both warm and spacious, which Lapis expected he’d appreciate very shortly - the sun had nearly set now, and the evening temperature had progressed from crisp, through bracing, and all the way to downright chilly. “Better start the fire quick,” Bon Bon noted, and Lapis turned away from the violet, darkening sunset just in time to watch her pull her head away from a tripod of firewood. “Lapis, you know how to start a fire?” “Not without equipment,” Lapis said. “Lyra?” “I’ve got it,” Lyra said, shutting her eyes and igniting her horn. A few seconds later, a small, candle-sized flame burst into existence atop one of the logs, working its way down a strip of bark for around five seconds before fading away. “Oh, huh,” Lyra said, her brow furrowing. “That’s harder than it looks. Um…” “Yeah, we’ll need some tinder and kindling first,” Lapis said. “Smaller stuff, so the fire can work its way up to catching the bigger logs,” he added, as Lyra shot him a bewildered look. “Oh,” Lyra said, nodding. “Right, yeah. Hang on, I’ll go find some smaller sticks!” “Make sure they’re dry, they won’t catch if they’re wet!” Lapis called, as Lyra trotted into the nearby woods. Bon Bon watched her go, then grinned over at Lapis. “She’s never actually camped before. We usually just show up early in the morning, I’ve been trying to get her to do this for years.” Lapis shook his head as he tore a hank of dry grass up from a nearby fence post. “Seems like a lot of trouble for cider.” “Hey,” Bon Bon said, pointing an accusing hoof at Lapis. “This isn’t just cider, this is Apple family cider. It’s worth it.” Lapis remembered Big Mac’s barrel of get-well-soon cider, and found himself nodding. “…Yeah. Honestly, it is. Hey, you think Big Mac thinks I’m mad at him?” Bon Bon shrugged. “For shoulder-checking you, for trying to set you up with Applejack at brunch? I don’t know. Are you?” “For trying to what?” Lapis asked, pausing mid-way through stuffing the dry grass beneath the firewood. “Oh,” Bon Bon said. “Yeah, Lyra thinks he was trying to set you up with Applejack.” A cold tingle of dread ran up the back of Lapis’ spine, but he forced it down before it could develop any further. “…Well, I’d prefer if he hadn’t done that, but I’m definitely not... angry about it.” Bon Bon smirked. “You like her.” The tingle of ran up Lapis’ spine again, and this time he wasn’t able to suppress a shiver of disgust. “No, I really don’t.” Bon Bon’s smirk turned to a frown, her brow furrowing. “You think she’s ugly?” “What?” Lapis said, drawing himself upright. “No! I just… it’s complicated,” he trailed off, noticing that a few of the other campers in line were looking in their direction. “Complicated,” Bon Bon said, giving Lapis a flat look. “My. What a novel word.” Lapis grimaced, looking to either side, then leaned forward. “Prophecy,” he muttered. Bon Bon’s eyes widened a little, and she nodded slowly, a smug grin spreading across her face. “Oh. Right, so you don’t want to get involved… but you do like her.” “Like who?” Lyra asked, trotting back over with a bundle of twigs floating by her side. “Ooh, is it Applejack?” “No!” Lapis said, his ears flopping back as he turned to stare at Lyra. “Yes,” Bon Bon said, smirking over Lapis’ shoulder. “But he can’t, because the entire future is at stake, and he definitely isn't nervous at all.” Lyra’s ears fell halfway back, and a wide, warm smile stretched across her face. “Aww…” Lapis groaned, facehoofing. “That’s not it, really, it’s… Can we not? Please?” “Well, I can wait until after we’ve got this fire started,” Lyra said, shrugging. “But we’re probably picking this up afterward.” “I’ll get the s’more stuff,” Bon Bon said, turning back toward the tent. “Lapis, you help her with the fire.” “Right,” Lapis sighed. If I grab the firewood and run into the orchard, I’ll… look ridiculous, and make it ten feet before Bon Bon gets me. “Okay, so we want this dry grass close to the middle, and the little sticks all around it…” Every year, on the nights of Cider Season, there were three ponies who were tied for Busiest Pony of the Day: Applejack, Big Macintosh, and Granny Smith. To an uninformed onlooker, Apple Bloom might look like a promising contender - but, to somepony a touch more informed (like Applejack), it was plain that Apple Bloom was really just good at looking busy when in reality she wasn’t even in the running. Another uninformed onlooker might notice the slow pace at which Granny Smith handled her share of the labor, how long it took her to totter her way down the rows of bushels full of glistening apples, inspecting each in turn with a rheumy eye, and think that it was a straight tie between Applejack and Big Mac - but, again, Applejack knew better. For Granny Smith, this much effort was near to a marathon for a younger pony, but she kept chugging right along anyhow. (Honestly, Applejack was near certain that Granny Smith was the winner of the tie, but the competition wasn’t really formal enough to call for any debate - and besides, Granny Smith would raise Tartarus about how it wasn’t any trouble at all.) Big Mac, as always, was busy fixing up the press, going over every last part and giving each in turn a firm knock with his hoof, just to make sure that everything that should hold still was holding still before he began pulling the whole contraption over toward the cider stand. Apple Bloom was sticking close to Granny Smith, who was generously pretending that Apple Bloom was trying to help with quality control, and so was busy explaining how to tell the difference between a good apple and a bad one. Apple Bloom, just as generously, was doing her best to listen, but the way she kept glancing in Applejack’s direction suggested that she meant more to look busy enough to sidestep any of the real labor. And as for Applejack… well, it likely wouldn’t be fair if she were to judge her own labor. She felt tired, though, what with all the trucking the obvious bad apples onto the wagon one big-ol’ bushel at a time, all the way down the length of the barn through to the door, outside of which sat the wagon that she and Big Mac would later use to haul the bad apples to the compost pit. Applejack’s shoulders and thighs felt so convinced they were burning that she half-expected to smell smoke, and she had to muffle a yawn as she approached Granny Smith for the umpteen-hundredth time that evening. “This whole bushel is kaput,” Granny Smith croaked, poking at one of the barrels with a hoof as Applejack approached. “Worms got in ‘em.” Applejack winced. “Aw, shoot. Ah thought Ah’d kept all the worms out this year.” Granny Smith snorted, then chuckled as Applejack picked up the bushel and slung it around onto her back. “Well, it’ll be a long way yet, but Ah s’pect you’ll manage it someday.” Applejack cocked an eyebrow, then chuckled herself. “Ah sure hope so. It’ll make this all a lot easier.” “E-yup,” Big Mac said, as Applejack turned and started back toward the wagon. Her hoof caught on the edge of a floorboard, and she briefly stumbled before catching herself. “Well, shoot, that could’a been bad,” she muttered, stomping the board down with a back hoof as she made the journey back to the wagon again. Applejack remembered carrying the bushels like this when she’d been a little younger than Apple Bloom - back then, Applejack had tripped a lot. More than that, she hadn’t figured out how to carry the bushels right, and they’d chafed so much would she’d thought they would wear ruts into her bones. They hadn’t, at least not yet. Maybe her hide had gotten tougher, or maybe she’d gotten big enough for the bushel’s weight to spread out a little. Or maybe Ah just learned. As always, the walk back from the wagon went by quicker than the walk toward it. Applejack arrived back beside Granny Smith after what felt like only a second or two, only to find that the elder Apple was inspecting her instead of a bushel. “You ain’t been pushin’ yerself again, have you?” Granny Smith asked, narrowing her eyes in suspicion. “It’s too busy tomorrow for you to pull that.” “No, Granny Smith,” Applejack said. “Ah just tripped on a floorboard on my way over.” “Mm. Maybe you’d better get some rest anyhow,” Granny Smith said. “We’re near done already, Ah’m sure Apple Bloom can manage the rest herself.” Applejack blinked, then looked over to Apple Bloom, who looked back with about as much doubt as Applejack was feeling. They turned back toward Granny Smith at around the same time. “Are you sure?” they asked. “Yes, Ah’m sure,” Granny Smith said, waving a hoof and speaking only to Applejack. “She ain’t got much to do tomorrow, just workin’ the tap. You’ll need yer rest, Applejack - Apple Bloom can afford to get a little tuckered out.” “If you say so, Granny Smith” Applejack said, and Apple Bloom grimaced as Applejack turned toward the barn door one more time. “Ah’ll go and make a round of the property, make sure nopony’s set up campfires too close to the fences, and then Ah suppose Ah’d best hit the hay. Good luck, Apple Bloom - and, uh, it helps if you try to keep the bushels from rocking on your back.” “Uh-huh,” Apple Bloom said, scowling. Applejack trotted out the barn door, rolling her eyes and grinning, then started down the hill toward the fences. She’d best start by the back gate, then work her way around to the front. Unfortunately for Lapis' hopes of changing the subject, most of the sticks that Lyra had grabbed were dry - or, well, not most of them, but enough of them to dry out the rest. One of the larger logs was already beginning to blacken as Bon Bon re-emerged from the tent with a picnic basket. “So, how’s the candy shop doing?” Lapis asked, looking to Bon Bon. “Cinnamon drops selling?” “Like hotcakes,” Bon Bon replied, once she’d set down the basket. “Lapis?” “Yeah?” “You’re not getting out of this.” Lapis groaned. “It’s really not that big of a deal.” Lyra winced, then shrugged. “Well… I mean, right now, your closest companion is kind of a pigeon. No offense to you, Nikki, you’re a great friend,” Lyra hastily added, upon noticing Nikki glaring at her from atop the tent. “But I really think it could do you some good if somepony were around to help take your mind off… stuff.” “That’s the exact opposite of what I need!” Lapis said, raising a hoof as Nikki rolled her eyes and flew off into the orchard, cuffing Lyra’s ear as she went. “Ignoring my problems doesn’t make them go away - honestly, it tends to make them worse!” Lyra and Bon Bon exchanged a look. Then, Bon Bon reached into the picnic basket and produced a sack of marshmallows. Lyra, meanwhile, went straight for the throat. “Okay, so. How long have you been interested?” “I never have been,” Lapis insisted. I could just tell some of the truth, here. I just really don’t know if it’ll be worth it, or if I’ll only wind up delaying the inevitable. Or sounding like a weirdo, though it’s a bit late for that. “Right, sure,” Lyra said, nodding. “…But let’s say, y’know, just hypothetically, that you were.” Okay, weirdo time it is. Lapis sighed, then leaned forward, keeping his voice low. “Alright, you know what? What if, hypothetically, I wasn’t interested in ponies at all?” Lyra blinked, then sat back in her seat and giggled for a second - then, when she opened her eyes and saw Lapis’ face, she trailed off. “Wait, you’re serious?” Bon Bon, cocked an eyebrow, and Lapis continued. “A hundred percent serious. And yeah, I know it’s not normal, or… whatever else, but it’s the way I work, and I don’t think I can change it. I just… if I ever think about getting intimate with a pony, any pony, I can’t think about it as anything but gross. The same way that you, or Bon Bon, might not be interested in getting it on with stallions. It just doesn’t click.” “Huh,” Bon Bon said, nodding. Her eyebrow remained firmly cocked. Lyra sat back, staring down into the campfire, her ears twitching atop her head. “…So, not mares, not stallions… nopony at all?” “Nope,” Lapis said, shaking his head. “For what it’s worth, I really don’t think it’s affected my life in any other way. I don’t feel broken, or hollow, or anything else because of it. I’m still me, and not being interested is just… part of me.” “Huh,” Bon Bon repeated. And then, to Lapis’ horror, an ominous smirk began to grow upon her face. “You know… I think I understand now.” “…You sure?” Lapis asked. Bon Bon nodded, her smirk now shifting out of ‘ominous’ and firmly into ‘smug.’ “Oh, I think I do. You said there weren’t many ponies in A-mare-ica?” “I did,” Lapis said, another tingle of dread beginning to build in his gut. “And you were raised by griffons. I’m guessing there’s a lot of griffons there?” “Uh, yeah,” Lapis said. …Wait. Bon Bon nodded, spearing a marshmallow and extending it confidently over the campfire. “Well, then I think I’ve wrapped my head around the whole thing…” She stared directly at Lapis, the smirk replaced by a grin that was almost perfectly polite. “Griffon colt.” “Ooooh,” Lyra said, slowly nodding, a look of comprehension spreading across her face like the morning sunrise. “Oh, so that’s why you let that Gilda griffon stay at your house!” Lapis groaned, facehoofing. “No, that’s not… Nope. No, I am done with this conversation. Next topic, moving on. Pass me a marshmallow?” “On it,” Lyra chirped, levitating the sack of marshmallows up from beside Bon Bon. She levitated one out of the bag for herself, then passed the rest to Lapis, who wasted no time spearing one on a stick and getting it over the fire. “Alright, so I should be ready for that trip into the Everfree pretty soon,” Lapis said, as he carefully lowered his marshmallow into position over the fire. …Honestly, I could probably get away with not using the stick. It just wouldn’t feel right, though. “Is that so,” Bon Bon said, cocking an eyebrow. “I’m guessing that means you’ve cooked up another gizmo.” “Uh-oh,” Lyra said, her eyes briefly widening. “…Uh, I mean, good for you!” “It’s just a floating platform this time,” Lapis said, waving a hoof. “I stand on it, I move the controls, I float myself up in front of the bookshelf. Worst-case scenario, I run out of magic, and I… take a tumble. That’s it.” “That’s, um…” Lyra hesitated, glancing back and forth between Lapis and the campfire. “That’s kind of a pretty bad worst-case scenario. How much of a tumble are we talking, here?” “I won’t be in there alone,” Lapis assured her. “I’ll have either Zecora, or… somepony else right there with me the whole time. Besides, I’ll be sure to get myself down safely long before I run out of magic.” “Okay, let’s back up a little,” Bon Bon said, raising a hoof. “Did you say ‘floating platform?’ Are we talking something like… I don’t know, a scooter, except it can fly?” “Float, not fly,” Lapis corrected. “And it’s really, really slow, not to mention a pain in the horn to steer, so don’t worry, unicorns aren’t about to replace pegasi anytime soon.” “Okay,” Bon Bon said, rubbing her forehead with a hoof. “But this platform thing. It’ll get you off the ground? Like, all the way off the ground, no wings required?” “It did in my basement,” Lapis said, shrugging. “So that’s at least six feet up, and I’m confident it should be able to go a fair bit higher. But, again, not a replacement for wings. I’m not inventing anypony out of a job with this, unless they were already invented out of a job by ladders.” “Right,” Bon Bon sighed. “Sure. Just do me a favor, okay?” “Sure thing,” Lapis said, frowning. “Great,” Bon Bon began, looking Lapis right in the eyes. “There’s a spell out there somewhere, it’s called a Bounce-Bubble Shield. It only takes a second or so to cast, and once you do, it’ll conjure a big, cushy bubble around you, so that you won’t break your neck when you hit the ground.” “…You want me to learn it?” Lapis asked, cocking an eyebrow. “Sure thing, I was honestly thinking along the same lines-” “Not just that,” Bon Bon said, shaking her head without breaking eye contact. “No, what I want you to do is promise me not to set one hoof on that platform until after you can cast that spell in less than two seconds.” “Uh, sure,” Lapis said, frowning. “I promise not to do that, until after I’ve done the other thing.” “Not good enough,” Bon Bon said, her stare tightening into a glare. “Lapis, you haven’t seen what falling does to ponies. I have. I need you to Pinkie Pr-mmf!” And suddenly, Lyra’s hooves were clamped over Bon Bon’s mouth. Bon Bon paused, scowling at Lyra for a fraction of a second, then her eyes widened, her ears flopping back as she realized what she’d ask Lapis to hang over his own head. “She didn’t mean it,” Lyra said, a vaguely frantic expression on her face as she pulled her hooves off Bon Bon’s mouth. “I didn’t,” Bon Bon said, shaking her head. “Not like that. It was habit, I’m sorry, I…” Lapis looked at the fire, and realized he’d dropped his marshmallow into it. “No,” he said, and the word felt… thick, in his mouth. Heavy. When had he stood up? “I get it,” he continued. “I do. I’ve… seen someone… I get it.” Lapis’ heart began speeding up in his chest, and he turned to Lyra. “How do you Pinkie Promise?” “…What?” Lyra asked. “Pinkie Promising,” Lapis said, continuing to ignore his heart battering itself against his ribcage. “How do I do it? Do I need to sacrifice a cookie or something? Light birthday candles, sprinkle confetti?” “No, no,” Lyra said, her eyes wide. “You- you just, um, make the gestures and say the words. ‘Cross my heart and hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye.’ But Lapis, you and Pinkie-” “This isn’t about Pinkie,” Lapis said, and he turned to face Bon Bon. “This is about two ponies. Someone I knew, someone she knew.” Lapis took a slow, deep breath, then opened his eyes and held Bon Bon’s gaze. Her eyes were wide, startled, and there was a tide of emotions behind them to mirror his own. Grief and recognition and guilt, not sorrow alone but the nagging whisper that there was some measure they could’ve taken, some decision they could’ve made, something, anything that they could’ve done to- “Bon Bon, I promise I won’t make you go through that again,” Lapis said. “Cross my heart and hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye.” He knew, in some disconnected part of his mind, that the words he was speaking and the things they meant were absurdly distant from what he was trying to say, and he could only hope he would be understood. He wondered whether that wasn’t always the case. Slowly, Bon Bon nodded. It was likely just Lapis’ imagination, but as he sat down, he thought he smelled cotton candy. He stared into the fire, watching his marshmallow curl into a charred, shriveled husk. Lyra looked on, bewildered, as Bon Bon stood up, picking up her own marshmallow stick with a hoof and walking around the perimeter of the campfire. Bon Bon offered Lapis the stick, her golden-brown marshmallow steaming atop it. “His name was Gumball,” she said, so quietly that Lapis almost didn’t hear her over the crackling of the fire. “Hers was Amanda,” Lapis replied. He reached out and took the stick. Bon Bon sat beside him, and Lyra walked over and sat between them shortly afterward. From the half-tilt of her ears, she was still a little confused, but she wrapped both of them in a hug regardless. The sun was completely gone over the horizon now, and there was only a faint violet glow to obscure the twinkling stars. It was still cold, and the leaves were still rustling in the trees, but the wind had fallen still enough that the smoke of the campfire rose straight up for once, instead of aiming itself directly for Lapis’ face as it usually would. The heat of the fire soaked into Lapis’ chest and legs, baking his face, and yet all its heat and all the autumn chill mattered so much less than the warmth of the other two ponies sitting on the edge of the firelight. A moment of silence followed. “…Well,” Lapis eventually said. “Gotta say, I was not expecting that to go the direction it did.” Bon Bon snorted before he’d finished his sentence. “Yeah, no kidding. Sorry, Cider Day doesn’t normally turn out like this.” “Well, I don’t know,” Lyra said, shrugging. “It kinda does bring out the worst in some ponies. Remember the year that Spoiled Rich only got half a mug of cider?” Bon Bon winced. “Remember? Lyra, I’m pretty sure my ears are still ringing.” “Spoiled Rich?” Lapis asked, cocking his head. “Wait, are we talking about Filthy Rich’s wife?” “That’s the one,” Bon Bon said, scowling. “Meanest mare in Ponyville, with the money to buy most of her problems away. And Celestia forbid you get between Diamond Tiara, her little filly, and something she wants.” Lapis grimaced. “Oh. Yeah, I know the type. …Actually, we’ve even got a word for folks like her, back in A-mare-ica.” “You do?” Lyra asked, raising her eyebrows. Lapis nodded. “‘Karen.’ It means ‘she who asks to see the manager.’” “She tried that on me once,” Bon Bon said, smirking. “I am the manager.” “Yeah, you are,” Lyra giggled, then she paused, turning to meet Lapis’ gaze. “…Hey, Lapis?” “What’s up?” Lapis asked, cocking a confused eyebrow. “Could you maybe tell us about the platform… lift… thing you made?” Lyra asked. “Like, talk us through the design, tell us how you’re going to make it, y’know, safe? Please?” Lapis hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I can do that.” He cleared his throat, then levitated the picnic basket over to his side, pulling out a marshmallow for Bon Bon. “Alright. So, first off, it’s a rectangle…” Even going out the back gate, it didn’t take long at all for Applejack to find the back-end of the tent line. To her dismay, next to nopony seemed to have enough healthy respect for fire safety, leaving Applejack to start working her way up the line one tent at a time, lecturing each group of ponies in turn until they’d doused their fires and stamped out the coals. By the time she’d worked her way halfway through the line, it was dark, most ponies in line were inside their tents, and Applejack was beginning to wonder if she would’ve had an easier time of things back in the barn. She’d already seen a lot of familiar faces, but one trio in particular gave her cause to pause. Lyra Heartstrings, Lapis Print, and Bon Bon, Applejack thought, as she kept trotting along the side of the fence. Their fire was already a safe enough distance from anything that might catch, but she turned toward their fire as she recognized them anyway. Glad to see that Lapis feller’s settling in a little, between that whole brunch mess and… well, earlier, Ah was half-convinced he wouldn’t be here- As Applejack approached Lapis and Bon Bon from behind, Lyra spotted her. She paused, checking to see whether the other two ponies were looking, then made eye contact with Applejack and frantically shook her head ‘no,’ waving her hooves back and forth. Applejack slowed to a stop, looking over at the other two ponies, neither of which had noticed Lyra’s behavior. “…it’s all drawn in through the joysticks,” Lapis was saying, “so all you’ve got to do to power the thing is hold on. If you let go, though, you get about three or four seconds before you just drop.” “Well, fix that, first of all,” Bon Bon said. “Yep, that’s probably smart,” Lapis agreed. “I’m thinking if I add in a secondary mana feed, one with a bigger delay, a larger capacity, and less throughput, that should translate to letting me down quite a bit slower than terminal velocity…” Not right now, Lyra mouthed, still staring at Applejack. Applejack hesitated, then nodded. Lyra shot Applejack an awkward grin, then turned back toward the other two ponies as Applejack turned and trotted off. Applejack didn’t really know Lyra too well. But, contrary to what a few more solitary ponies might say, the magic of Harmony in Equestria had quite a few mundane components, some of which occasionally called for cooperation between complete strangers. When you noticed somepony teaching their foal or filly how to cross a street, for example, it didn’t matter whether you’d usually stop and look both ways, because you made darn sure to set the example either way. Likewise, when two ponies were arguing, you either tuned them out or you didn’t make it obvious you were listening, and if somepony in a crowd suggested that now wasn’t the best time to join in, you took the hint and thanked them for the warning, later. You couldn’t always manage it, of course, and there were a few ponies who didn’t even try, but the rest of the time, the rest of Equestria made it work. Still, Ah’d nearly think that was Twilight talking back there, what with how much jargon he was jabberin’, Applejack thought. Didn’t Applebloom say somethin’ about Lapis makin’ a big metal wheel? Guess he’s got some engineering expertise- Huh. Well, you don’t see that every day. As Applejack continued trotting along the side of the fence, she paused momentarily to stare up at one of the branches that hung outside the Apple family property. Perched atop it was a brown, barrel-shaped sort of owl, and sitting beside the owl was what looked a normal pigeon. They nearly seemed to be talking to each other - or, at least, the pigeon was cooing at the owl and gesturing with its wings, and the owl was sitting still and listening. As Applejack watched, the owl turned its head all the way around backwards to look at her. “Right,” Applejack mumbled. “Ah forgot y’all could do that.” “Who?” the owl said. “Oh. Uh, you all. Y’know, owls?” Applejack said, rubbing the back of her neck with a hoof. “The whole turnin’-your-head-backwards thing.” “Who?” the owl said again. “Uh, yours,” Applejack said, cocking an eyebrow. It was at this point Applejack noticed that the pigeon was giving her a look, the kind of look that asked whether Applejack shouldn’t be someplace else right about now. “Right, well,” Applejack said. “Sorry for interruptin’ you, Ah’ll just be on my way.” “Who?” “Me,” Applejack said, then she chuckled. “Oh, never mind.” With that, she turned and trotted onward, leaving the owl and the pigeon to their apparent conversation. “…What I’m trying to ask, here,” Nikki continued, once Applejack had left, “is where in the rotten oats my warning was. I gave you one job-" “Who?” said the owl. Nikki gave him a flat look. “Don’t patronize me.” The owl didn’t smile - owls rarely did - but the rings of darker feathers around his eyes shifted into a position that implied a smirk. “My apologies, I couldn’t resist. Twilight has provided me with the night shift.” Nikki groaned. “Okay, clearly you's forgetting who employs 'who,' here. So. Who provides you with the better lodgings? Disaster Pony number three, or me?” “Twilight,” the owl said, his facial expression now even and perfectly unreadable. “You mean that,” Nikki asked. “Alright. Sure. What's she got that I don't, huh?” “A warm house she's willing to share,” the owl said. “Have you considered that might be all it takes?” Nikki sighed, rubbing the bridge of her beak with her wing. “You're killin' me, Hoots. Listen, I'm workin' on it, alright? The guy's shingles are made of fluffing metal. You ever tried to peck through metal shingles? Because Tippy Taps the woodpecker did, and he's with Fluttershy now. The owl shrugged with one wing. “Perhaps you could simply ask Fluttershy to translate for you, and request that this pony build a birdhouse into his own attic?” Nikki blinked, then huffed, leaning forward. “Look, he and the walkin' problems don't get on so good. I bring the wrong pony to his door, I could wind up outside of it. I'm not gonna, but I could.” “Ah. Well, at least you've given me the courtesy of explaining as an equal,” the owl noted, and Nikki wondered whether he was smirking. “In truth, I was asleep when it all began. Had I been awake, I would have raised the alarm right away. Have you considered assigning me a diurnal co-worker?” Nikki shook her head. “Only desperate enough guy I got is Fennel's brother-in-law, and no offense, but I ain't gonna put a rat in the same tree as an owl. 'Sides, Fennel's got a good heart, it'd look bad if I made him worry.” “Oh, of course,” the owl said. “And no offense taken. Very well. I'll continue to alert your contacts if I see anything that might end badly.” “Thanks, Hoots,” Nikki said. "I spot a new co-worker or a nice lady owl, I'll point 'em right to ya." “Many thanks. Always happy to help,” the owl said, and a few seconds later, he took flight and vanished into the starry sky. “…Who are all these ponies?!” exclaimed a scratchy, familiar voice. Nope, Lapis thought. Not awake yet. Not my problem- “Isn’t this GREAT?!” Shit! Pinkie! Lapis sucked in a gasp and sat bolt-upright inside the tent, his eyes snapping wide open as the front of his blanket fell off his body. “Whuh?” Lyra asked, blinking her eyes open from the other side of the tent as Pinkie Pie began rambling full-speed from somewhere nearby. “Oh. Uh, morning, Lapis…” “Morning,” Lapis said, taking a deep breath and laying back down. “Well, that was a rush. I thought I’d need to make a coffee run after I woke up, but yeah, not anymore.” “Yes you will,” Bon Bon mumbled, from somewhere inside the pile of blankets that also contained Lyra. “Headache. Quiet down, I’m trying to sleep.” Lapis felt his cheeks growing warm. “My bad,” he muttered, and he tried to shut his eyes and go back to sleep. Unfortunately, judging by the growl of frustration from Rainbow Dash, sleep was off the table. “Are you kidding me?! I wake up before the sunrise twice a year! I go through all the trouble of making sure it happens today, and… Ugh.” “What’s the matter, Rainbow Dash?” Pinkie asked. “Ooh! Ooh! Is it the morning grumps? Because my gramps always had the grumps in the morning, and I know just how to fix that!” “Um, well,” a third voice mumbled, and Lapis frowned as he pulled his blanket back up to his chin. Fluttershy’s here too? “Is that seriously a rock?” Rainbow Dash asked. “Mm-hm! Calcite!” Pinkie chirped. “I always gave granite to my grumpy Gramps, and that granite got Gramps’ grumps gone by breakfast! But, y’know, Gramps was a granite farmer, and you deal more with clouds, Rainbow Dash, so I thought I’d go with calcite instead, since it looks a bit like clouds!” “…Pinkie Pie, you are so weird,” Rainbow Dash said. “When weird works, weird works wonders!” Pinkie replied. “Ooh, Fluttershy! Um, are you still up for that thing with the birdies?” “Well, yes,” Fluttershy mumbled. “It’s just that, um, I don’t think you’ve told me when that is.” “Oh, right,” Pinkie said. “Let’s see… When works for you?” “Well, if you want to practice with a whole flock of songbirds,” Fluttershy began, “then, um, it’s probably best to wait until they’re not busy nesting for the winter. So, I would wait until springtime.” “Oh, alrighty then,” Pinkie said. “Let’s shoot for, mmm… mid-March-ish.” A second of silence followed. “And?” Rainbow Dash demanded. Lapis frowned again, turning to squint at the wall of the tent. What’s going on out there? “Oh, yes,” Fluttershy said. “Um, Pinkie Pie. I’m very sorry, but… I’ll need to know why you want to teach a flock of birds to blow party horns, first.” “Oh, right,” Pinkie said, giggling. “Well, I got the idea from your choir for the Princess. I realized how nice it was that the birds could sing along with the royal fanfare, and then I thought - ‘oh my gosh! What if, they did that for all the events?’” “Well, um, they only said they would do it for Princess Celestia,” Fluttershy mumbled. “I never asked them whether it was something they would want to do for everypony. And, um, I really don’t know whether they’d be alright with party horns.” “Yeah, you can only carry so much while you’re flying,” Rainbow Dash said. “And I can deal with a whole bunch, but birds are way smaller. They might not be able to handle a whole party horn apiece.” “Oh, that’s okay! I can get Twilight to enchant them or something,” Pinkie said. “The horns, I mean. Not the birds - ooh! Wait! Magic birds with party horns! That’s even better than regular birds with party horns!” There was another moment of silence. “Um,” Fluttershy said. “…Ever since Rarity tried to transmute little sapphires into that blue jay’s feathers, no animals with wings will come near me if I say ‘enchantment’ and ‘birds’ in the same sentence.” “So no magic birds?” Pinkie asked. “No,” Fluttershy said. “No magic birds.” “Atta girl, Fluttershy,” Rainbow Dash whispered, loudly. “C’mon, keep going.” “I’m not sure, Rainbow Dash. Is now really the best time?” Fluttershy asked, in a far more sensible mumble. “The best time for what?” Pinkie asked. There was another moment of silence, then somepony took a deep breath. “Pinkie Pie?” Fluttershy began. “There’s something I need to say-” “Will. You. Three. PIPE. DOWN!” Bon Bon snapped, and Lapis turned his head just in time to watch her stalking out from her pile of blankets in much the same way he imagined a dragon might stalk out of its cave. “Some ponies are trying to sleep over here!” “C'mon, Bon Bon!” Lyra said, as a solitary green hoof rose from the pile of blankets and waved vaguely in Bon Bon’s direction. “S’ okay, they’ll be done in a second. Get back inside, it’s nice and warm.” “SORRY!” Pinkie called. “I’LL QUIET DOWN RIGHT AWAY, MA’AM!”. Bon Bon huffed, then turned and pushed her way back into the blankets, head-first. “…It can wait,” Fluttershy mumbled outside, so quietly that Lapis nearly didn’t hear. He did, however, hear an exasperated groan, followed by a whoosh of flapping wings as at least one of the pegasi flew off. A few seconds later, there was the squeaking sounds of balloons rubbing against each other, then the sound of a zipper being zipped, followed by silence. Lapis rolled onto his side and pulled the blanket up to his chin. Definitely something to ask Nikki about, but for now, let’s just sleep. Sleep. Sleeeep. …Dammit. Lapis opened his eyes, then threw off his blankets and got to his hooves. “I’m going to see how early it is out there,” he said, at a deliberately normal speaking volume. “Go take a walk, see whether the Corner Cafe’s open. Can I trust you two to hold my place in line?” “Yep!” Lyra said. “Mmm,” Bon Bon grumbled. “Gotcha. I’ll bring food if anything’s open.” “…Thanks,” Bon Bon said, as Lapis pushed through the tent flaps and looked around. The sun was only just rising, a line of yellow on the horizon fading through pink and purple into the indigo sky. A few stars were still twinkling above, but they were quickly getting lost in the brightening sky, and the swirling wisps of cloud were becoming a spectacular orange. The crisp morning breeze seemed to pass right through Lapis’ coat, and his breath fogged in front of his face as he yawned, then shivered. Brr. Yep, early fall. Lapis stretched his front and back legs in turn, took a deep breath, then started toward Ponyville proper at a quick trot. It’d taken him forever, but he’d finally managed to figure out why galloping tired him out so quickly - it wasn’t that he forgot to breathe when he was galloping, it was that breathing became impossible to do sustainably. He was used to being a human, which had enabled him to break into a run and hold it for sustained periods of time, once he’d learned how to get into a rhythm. Ponies, it turned out, couldn’t do that. They could gallop for a while, a fair bit faster than a human, but they got out of breath pretty quickly - at a gallop, all four hooves needed to touch the ground in quick, successive bursts, meaning that most of the time Lapis’ torso was simply too compressed to fit enough air inside for breathing. If Lapis wanted to prioritize distance over speed, then he could trot, or maybe canter if he really wanted to push it. The center of Ponyville wasn’t too far away, but it was far enough. Slowly, carefully, Lapis shifted into a canter, trying to pay attention to how he felt as he went. His nose and throat burned in the cold air, and small shocks ran up his legs every time his hooves impacted the dirt road. As Lapis’ body began to warm up, the morning chill didn’t diminish - the bite of it just became less urgent, more tolerable. Welcome, even, as it siphoned some of the excess heat from his chest, cooling him off before he could begin to sweat. In terms of pain, his muscles were burning, and he was getting a stitch in his side - but, nothing felt like joint or tendon pain, so he kept going. The walk from Ponyville to Sweet Apple Acres took around ten minutes. At a canter, however, it only took a little more than five. When Lapis passed the first row of houses and slowed to a trot, he was grinning, even as he panted for breath. Definitely not my best pace for a morning jog, but not bad, either. Good weather for it, too. How long has it been - what, two and a half months now? Yeah, I was definitely getting out of shape. Lapis slowed from a trot to a walk, registering the familiar burning in his thighs and shins, along with the less-familiar burning in his shoulders and… Forearms? Wrists? Other shins? Whatever. So, morning gallop no, morning canter yes. Hopefully that’ll help with some of the stress, too. Lapis started looking around Ponyville, checking whatever restaurants he recognized for anything that resembled an “OPEN” sign. He knew the Corner Cafe’s hours, they wouldn’t be open for at least forty-five more minutes, so in the meantime… well, he’d take a walk, and think. And try not to obsess over either of the big conversations that had happened last night. Lapis realized he’d stopped in the middle of the street. He sighed, then started trotting again. Too late. Okay, so Lyra and Bon Bon now think I’ve only got a thing for griffons. That’s not great. But, since I don’t think griffons visit Ponyville often, and they aren’t trying to ask me about Applejack any more, I’m going to count that as a win. …Besides, I’m not really sure how I feel about pretending to be ace. And Bon Bon… and Gumball, and Amanda. It occurred to Lapis that there might’ve been a reason he was inclined to go for a canter this morning, and he grimaced. …Yeah, that one still hurts. I still can’t believe she came up. But... well, at least I know Bon Bon gets it. And I've got extra incentive to not fall off the platform. Lapis finished checking Ponyville’s market streets for signs of life, nodded, then turned and started trotting back toward his own house. Bubble-Bounce shield, Bubble-Bounce shield… nope, never heard of it. That leaves me two options: either ask Luna, or do my own research. He briefly glanced in the direction of the Golden Oak, then snorted. Luna it is. Later, though. For now, I’ve got omelets to make… actually, y’know what? Omelets are pretty easy, I can multitask. When Lapis arrived at his house, he found a scroll waiting on his doorstep. It was bound in a red ribbon, and sealed with golden wax. Stamped onto the seal was the emblem of a horseshoe, which - like much of Equestrian iconography - told Lapis absolutely nothing about who owned the icon, except that they were probably a pony. He grabbed the scroll and tucked it into his saddlebag as he headed inside, stifling a yawn as he made his way into the kitchen. Once there, he removed Luna’s book from his bag and placed it on the counter, grabbing a charcoal pencil and writing as he levitated a carton of eggs to the stove. Hey, have you ever heard of a Bubble-Bounce shield? It was a few minutes before the book buzzed, by which time Lapis had already made his own omelet, and was munching it down while he made Lyra’s. Nay, we have not, Luna replied. Though Celestia tells us we ought to know it well. For what reason dost thou inquire? A friend of mine recommended it to me, Lapis wrote. Supposedly, it’s good protection against falling. Ah, now we understand. We have always had wings, and so we did not need further protection, Luna wrote. We take it that thou meanest to find thyself in high places? Only in the literal sense. Lapis slid Lyra’s omelet out of the frying pan, then dumped the bowl of scrambled eggs that would be Bon Bon’s in its place. Luna’s response followed almost immediately, and Lapis frowned as he turned to look. Art thou quite certain? Luna had written, in lettering that was small, neat, and downright ominous. Pretty positive, Lapis wrote back. Why, is there something I should be looking out for? Nay, naught in particular. However, hast thou yet checked thine mail? A quite amusing incident recently transpired in the weather factory, and the Neighborly Neigh wrote a fine piece on the subject. “Right,” Lapis muttered, levitating the scroll out of his saddlebag and giving it a wary look. Slowly, he pried off the seal and unfurled it. A small, gleaming strip of gold fell free from the scroll, swaying back and forth through the air as it fell - and promptly landed in Bon Bon’s half-solid omelet. “Shit,” Lapis muttered, setting the scroll aside and grabbing a fork. Once he'd scraped off the egg yolk, he was able to identify the strip of gold foil. It was a ticket, one with the words 'Grand Galloping Gala' inscribed into its front. It took him five seconds to realize what those words meant, and then thirty more before he noticed that Bon Bon's breakfast was burning.