//------------------------------// // The Lazy Wing // Story: Top Speed // by BloodBunny67 //------------------------------// For every different type of sporting event that took place in the city’s arena, there was a corresponding tavern where its athletes tended to gather. As the derby racers escaped the swarm of interviewers, sponsors, and fans, they inexorably made their way to the Lazy Wing pub for a cool drink and a little good natured boasting. True to its name, the establishment did its best to cater to pegasi ponies from circuit. Its owner was a retired Wonderbolt by the name of Mach Speed. Mach may not perform anymore due to his crippled wing, but he never left the life behind. He ran his pub as if it were a shrine to the sports of racing and trick flying, even wearing his old Wonderbolt officer uniform while working the bar. He even named it after his career ending injury in a fit of dark humor. Derby racers could always expect kind words and special treatment from the former speedster when they stopped by. Red Line and Spectrum glided lazily through the darkening purple sky toward the pub. Red sighed as he enjoyed the feeling of the cool evening air streaming between his outstretched feathers, soothing his aching muscles. From the corner of his eye he could see Spectrum was also holding his wings wide to the gentle wind, allowing himself to relax. They took their time, flying high above the noise of the streets below, delighting in the coming night. It was funny how quickly things had changed in the last few months, Red reflected. For as long as he could remember, the night was not something most had taken pleasure in. It had been a cold, jarring experience, when the day’s light was pulled from the world and almost instantly replaced with a cold and sheer blackness. The only ponies who had taken pleasure in the dark were academics, silently studying the stars. That had all changed when Nightmare Moon had returned to Equestria, only to be freed by a group of mysterious heroes. Who would have guessed that Nightmare Moon, the lurking parental threat to fillies and colts everywhere who didn’t eat their broccoli, not only existed but was actually the long lost Princess Luna. Official statements were pretty tight-lipped about the details, but after a week it was obvious that something fundamental had changed when the sun fell. Where before a sudden and stark darkness would flood the land, now the clear light of the sun would slip through the most dazzling pastel shades of yellow, red, mauve, and purple before settling into a beautiful inky dark. Frigid and jarring winds had been replaced with a soothing cool breeze, and the twinkling starlight illuminated the misty swirls of fog rolling along the ground. The night had changed in more than appearance as well. Dreams were no longer confusing half-remembered metaphors to be hazily recalled the day after. Dreams were now of strange and vivid landscapes, or long forgotten memories which could be experienced and enjoyed while one slept. Of course there was the odd hyper-realistic nightmare, but even in the worst ones, a full and bright moon would look down on you in support. Many were still mistrustful of the reformed princess, but as a natural night owl, Red whole-heartedly approved of the changes. Returning his attention to his flight, Red took a look around and realized they were flying almost directly above the pub. He called to his friend over the wind, “lets head in. Who knows, maybe Wild Fire has cooled down by now and beat us here.” Spectrum adopted a comical look of disbelief, but nodded as they both spiralled downward. The building itself was a low floating cloud structure, hovering a few meters off the ground. The main entrance was a large landing strip extending from the street-side wall, complete with magically enhanced reflective markings used to guide patrons arriving after sunset. Despite its main focus on pegasi, the Lazy Wing did accommodate for the other pony tribes as well. A stairway of cloudstuff covered in enchanted floorboards stretched down and connected with the street, rooting the building in place and allowing access for unicorns and earth ponies. Landing softly on the cloud surface of the runway, the friends made their way to the familiar doorway and entered into a spacious interior. The enchanted floorboards continued inside, covering the main floor and allowing for the placement of conventional furnishings. Thick wooden booths lined all four walls, above which hung Wonderbolt and derby-related images and paraphernalia. The center of the space was dominated by the heavy apple-wood oval of the bar itself. Mach, along with the usual bartender, stood in the oval’s center, serving drinks in every direction. Seeing the pair enter, a warm smile lit up Mach Speed’s features as he waved them over. The friends returned the smile as they made their way through the room, eager for a taste of the bar’s renowned hard cider after a long day. Navigating through the pony-filled floor was proving difficult as the place seemed much more crowded than usual. Eventually the stallions were able to push their way through to the bar. “Boys! Glad to see you! What can I get ya?” Mach said; walking away from the unicorn he was in the middle of serving to greet the pair. Red chuckled as he saw the bartender rush over to the miffed unicorn and continue taking his order, apologizing for his eccentric employer. Mach definitely had his favourites. The older pony had never had children, but he had doted on Red and his friends as if they were his own for as long as he could remember. “You should know by now, you old horse, or is your mind finally starting to go?” Red said, smirking at the older Pegasus. Deep laughter rumbled from Mach as he reached under the bar, “one Sweet-Apple-Acre Cider for Red, and one Everfree Grog for you Spectrum. You know you are the only one who actually drinks that swill?” The lavender stallion took a deep draught from the mug before responding, “it’s no fault of mine that the rest of you share a more delicate constitution than myself” Mach snorted at the comment. “Sure boy, delicacy is our problem,” He said as he reached over with his good wing and mussed Spectrum’s perfectly coiffed mane with a grin. Shuffling backward Spectrum flipped his mane into place and leaned toward Red Line. “Honestly, service has always been a problem at this establishment,” He mocked an indignant whisper. “I dunno Spec; I think I’m with Mach on this one,” Red paused with a grimace as he looked down at Spectrum’s mug into the black, bubbling liquid. “That stuff looks like it could knock the heads off a hydra.” His friend replied with a scoff; “humph, a bracing drink now and again is a crucial element for living a long and fulfilling life, my friends. It helps build one’s fortitude for times of crisis. Need I remind you both of the great cider shortage just last year?” “There was no cider shortage,” Mach leaned over the bar and pointed an accusatory hoof, “you went on a weeklong binge and drank us out! Do you know how hard it is to replace a cask of cider in the third month of winter?” “I’m afraid I have no idea what you’re referring to sir,” The stallion dismissed, a small smirk creeping onto his upturned face. “You had better know what he’s talking about,” Red Line jumped in, “I must have paid for half that barrel, and I’m pretty sure I haven’t seen any of that repaid like you promised.” “You wound me my friend! I have not forgotten my guarantee of repayment. As you recall, I vowed recompense upon my receiving my very next gold medal on the track. It’s hardly my fault that the prowess of my friend and creditor has made my promise difficult to fulfill, even now.” Spectrum placed his hoof to his chest solemnly as he spoke. Red eyed his friend for a moment before shaking his head. “I’m buying your drinks tonight aren’t I?” Spectrum smiled, “Well, at least until Wild Fire gets here. Speaking of which...” He slid his emptied mug across the bar toward his friend. “Ugh, another cup of swamp water for our posh friend here, Mach.” The older pegasus was already pulling the bottle from underneath the bar as he spoke, anticipating the request. He may not be the best bartender, but he knew his lads and he made sure they were well taken care of. Winking to each other, Mach and Red waited till Spectrum raised the mug to his lips before retching loudly in only half-feigned disgust, surprising their friend as he took another deep pull from his newly filled mug. The stallion cried outrage as a precious few drops escaped him and fell to the floor. “See here! What a waste of a perfectly good beverage! You know, you two should pour yourselves a glass of grog. I’ve always said that it builds character, which is something this establishment seems to be sorely lacking.” Red and Mach burst out in laughter, to which Spectrum quickly joined. Wiping a tear of mirth from his eye, Red reached back to his saddle bag for his coin bag. “Don’t even think about it son,” Mach waived him off. “After what you did today, consider the first few rounds free.” Red’s cocky grin once again plastered itself on his face. “Heard about that, did you?” He brushed his hoof off on his coat as he spoke. “I guess there aren’t many ponies that haven’t by now.” If Mach was off-put at all by the predictable smug bravado of the young pegasus, it was completely overshadowed by the pride he felt for his friend. “Sixteen wing power! I couldn’t believe it when they told me. I thought Fleet Foot’s record was going to stand forever. Back in my day, wings didn’t flap so fast.” Mach interrupted his gushing to gesture above his head, “I updated the board as soon as I heard.” Mounted above the bar was the large board listing the names of every racer in the circuit along with their current standings. Mach usually updated the board after every event as ponies drifted in, either to brag or lament of their showing to him. Red looked up and was shocked to see the entire board wiped clean. He had never seen it without the barely decipherable statistics covering it. Now the only thing it showed was his name blazoned across the chalky surface, along with his wing power record and several exclamation marks. “Wow Mach, you don’t go for subtle do you,” Red smiled at the beaming older pegasus. “Not for local heroes I don’t. And after the word gets out of Fillydelphia, I think we’re going to have to remove the word ‘local’ from that title.” Mach leaned over and wrapped his good wing around the shoulders of the crimson haired stallion as he continued speaking, putting on a fake conspiratorial tone , “I would be buying you drinks all night, but if you’re gonna be picking up his tab it would put me out of business.” Spectrum's response was to lower the mug of vile drink from his mouth and release a rather undignified belch. Mach chuckled, “Thanks for making my point. Oh and by the way, you don’t have to wait for Wild Fire. She showed up a while ago; she’s upstairs in the lounge. She’s drinking free tonight as well. Third place in the Canterlot qualifier, that’s my girl!” Mach raised an eyebrow at Spectrum, “and when are you planning to start applying yourself like your friends do?” Spectrum mumbled a distracted reply as his eye was drawn by an attractive earth pony mare that had entered the pub and was milling about the opposite side of the bar area. Catching her eye, he raised his cup in a silent salutation. “I think you lost him there, old horse,” Red chuckled, grabbing his mug off the bar. “I’m headed up Mach, keep those ciders coming, will ya? Spec, you comin?” Spectrum turned his head toward his friend, but his eyes never left the light blue mare he was staring at as he answered; “You go on ahead my friend, you know I prefer to keep company with the regular customers.” Red smiled at the expected behaviour from his friend as he took flight and made his way to the racers lounge. The lounge was a free-floating second floor of cloudstuff which hovered above the center of the room. This tier lacked the enchanted floorboards of the lower level and was adorned strictly with the softer cloud furniture preferred by pegasi. This level was always reserved for derby racers, allowing them to have a quiet and comfortable place to relax after a race, as well as space to socialize with their peers. Landing on the spongy surface, Red Line’s searching eyes landed on Wild Fire sitting alone at their usual table. Well that’s a good sign at least, Red thought encouragingly as he approached. Red nodded and accepted congratulations from some of his fellow racers and ignored the jealous and angry stares of others as he weaved through the press of pegasi toward his friend. Watching as he approached, she was nursing her drink and impatiently searching the crowd. She hasn’t noticed me yet. Guess I’ll just have to say hi, Red’s thoughts took a mischievous turn as he skirted the edge of the crowd, coming up behind the cream coloured mare. Still having not noticed the stallion creeping around behind her, Wild Fire went to take another sip from her cider. Just as the cup touched her lips, Red leapt up from behind, grabbing her by the shoulders and yelling “Heeere’s Red!” Wild Fire’s reaction was instantaneous. She sputtered and choked on her drink, dropping the mug and whipping her head backwards, crunching Red’s snout with the hard plate of her skull. “OUCH! What the buck Fi?” Red jumped backwards, wrapping a wing around his injured nose. “What was that for?” “What? You were the one who scared the dung out of me!” Wild Fire was still coughing as she waved her hoof at the wounded stallion. “You deserve what you got!” Red flinched from the mare as she brandished her hoof at him. “Whoa, easy girl, I’m sorry. I just usually see it coming when you attack me,” Red smiled behind his guard despite the painful bruise forming on his nose. “That was a pretty good shot though, I’m impressed. Where did you learn that?” Recovered from her near-drowning, Wild Fire laughed. “You should know, I get plenty of practice with you and Spec around,” she teased, taking another swing at her friend. They both laughed as he ducked under her attack and jumped forward onto the bench across from her, accidentally sweeping her cup from the table in the process. “Oh dung,” she shot a wing out attempting to catch the mug as it fell from the cloudstuff table. She succeeded only in knocking it further away, landing near the edge of the cloud floor. Lucky for her, all of the mugs in the Lazy Wing had the cloud-walking enchantment placed on them for exactly this reason. Unlucky for her, this enchantment did not extend to the liquid which poured out of the upturned cup. They both stuck their heads over the edge of the cloud floor in time to see a light-blue earth pony mare completely drenched in cider release an outraged howl as she stomped off to the fillies’ room. The lavender stallion she had been talking with looked around in confusion, mouth uncharacteristically agape. When his searching eyes found his two friends peeking over the cloud floor above him, he raised his hoof to the sky in despair. “Why...” Finishing his thought with a defeated sigh, Spectrum hung his head and walked back to the bar as his friends broke out in laughter. Red Line and Wild Fire retreated to their table, laughter falling to a soft chuckle and then dying entirely. Silence reigned for a moment or two and Red noticed his friend had begun looking conflicted and unsure, fiddling with her hooves and avoiding eye contact. He was familiar with the behaviour; it could only mean one thing. A boyish grin grew on his face as he waited for the coming apology, knowing that his insufferable attitude would only make it more difficult for his friend to admit to whatever wrongdoing was bothering her. “Something you wanted to get off your chest Fi?” He asked innocently. “You’re going to have to speak up; I have this slight ringing in my ears for some reason.” He cradled his bruised snout after he spoke. “Shut-up you, unless you want another lump to match,” she threatened, but without any real fire in her words. After a moment, she looked at him and spoke, “Listen, I’m sorry for getting so mad at you after the race. You just broke an Equestrian record, and instead of congratulating you, the first thing I did was bite your head off. It was wrong of me.” She noticed the self-righteous smile forming on her friends face and continued, “Not that you didn’t deserve it. You know, you really should go easier on Sandstorm.” “And why should I? She’s always on my case every time we see her. I know she doesn’t like coming in second, but it’s not my fault she isn’t good enough to beat me,” Red said, getting defensive from the judgmental look he was receiving. “Yeah, well it isn’t her fault either. You know where she is while the whole roster is here getting drunk on cider? I saw her heading to the training grounds while I was on my way over . Even we don’t train as much or as hard as she does, and that’s saying something. It’s difficult for someone that works as hard as she does to race in your shadow. And after the record you set today, well, she didn’t take it well,” Wild Fire attempted to reason with her head-strong friend. “Well, that sounds rough, but I can’t change who I am Fi. I’m the best of the best, that’s just the way it is. I don’t see why she can’t be happy with the way things are; it’s not like she doesn’t win a medal in almost every race. It doesn’t seem to bother you.” Red said, although his voice had lost its hard edge. Wild Fire smiled at her friend in spite of herself, “Yeah, my special talent isn’t actually racing, it’s putting up with you. Just do me the favour ok?” “Ok ok you got it. Kid gloves with Stormie from now on,” Red offered with a sigh. “Besides, this record isn’t as big a deal as everyone is making it out to be.” Wild Fire raised an eyebrow, “Don’t be stupid Red, modesty doesn’t suit you. You are officially the fastest flier in Equestria. It’s what you’ve always wanted. You beat a Wonderbolt out of top spot. That aint nothing.” “Woah now, I didn’t say I’m not a big deal. I’m awesome.” Wild Fire rolled her eyes at his words, her faith in her knowledge of the world re-affirmed. Not noticing, Red continued, “what I meant was, beating Fleet Foot’s wing speed was no big deal. Speed records are beaten all the time. Fleet Foot only held it for the last couple of years, and the guy before that for even less.” “Ok, so...” the mare prompted him to get to his point. “So, I don’t want to have the record by just one or two wing power. I’m going to show everyone that I’m the best flyer in the history of Equestria, not just the best right now. When we get to Canterlot, I’m going to set a speed record so high, not even the princesses are going to be able to touch it. That’s my talent. That’s my destiny,” Red looked past her as he spoke, his eyes unfocused and his smile touched by his unshakeable confidence and no small amount of arrogance. They were interrupted as a waiter stopped by their table and placed two fresh mugs in front of them. Leaning over the edge of the floor, Red threw a salute down to Mach, thanking him for the drinks. Wild Fire copied the gesture and they turned back toward each other. Wild Fire raised her cup as she spoke, “you know Red, if anyone else said that I wouldn’t believe them. But I think you can do it. I’d tell you to make sure it doesn’t go to your head when you do, but I don’t think your ego could get any more inflated than it is normally anyway.” Red raised his cup, chuckling at her half-jest. “I’ll drink to that,” he said as he clicked his cup against hers. They both brought their mugs to their lips and took a long tug. Red and Wild Fire’s eyes widened at the same time as they both threw their cups and spat out their drinks, showering the patrons below with a rain of black liquid. Coughing and sputtering, they turned their watering eyes downward to see Mach and Spectrum doubled over laughing, an empty bottle of Everfree Grog sitting between them.