• Published 8th Nov 2012
  • 13,313 Views, 467 Comments

Of Apples and Roses and Thick Purple Proses - RavensDagger



Roseluck falls for Big Mac, they both fall for poetry.

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The Gavel

It was the light of the breaking dawn that roused her.

A sliver of the sun peeked through a crack in her lacey, flower-patterned curtains and splashed across the mare’s face, illuminating her vibrant mane. She sighed as she hid her face from the light, some part of her mind wishing it would simply disappear and leave her to the soft feel of her little bed.

Roseluck breathed a contented sigh, stretching her limbs in every direction until each and every muscle pulled taut and the sleepiness drifted out of her. That accomplished, she relaxed, letting out a much deeper sigh, one that emptied her lungs.

It was only then that she allowed her eyes to open and blankly stare at her stucco ceiling. I’m in love with Big Macintosh, she thought, allowing both a blush and a smile to cross her sleepy features.

Twisting herself, the mare glanced at her alarm clock. More importantly, her eyes settled upon the crumpled note beside it, trying to recall just when she had deposited the precious object on her nightstand.

Ahh. He loves me too. Her smile widened, and the mare flashed a toothy grin at the world around her as she rolled out of bed. Plenty of time to get there; it’s a big day and I should be as ready as I can!

Stretching once more, the mare allowed her gaze to freely wander around her small apartment. Ahead of her was the antique stand and mirror where she kept the few bottles and jars of makeup she owned. She could see her own disheveled form in the reflective surface. Her mane was plastered against her head by the night’s sleep.

She giggled at herself, and then trotted forwards. Everything felt like it deserved a giggle. Everything was suddenly so much... happier.

I’m in love with Mac...

She lazily wove among the tall stacks of books, avoiding the piles that adorned the otherwise spotless floor of the room as she made her way through the wide-open door to the living room beyond.

The couches were covered in open textbooks with highlights and scribbled notes on the margins. The bookshelves lining every wall were missing half of their contents, most of which resided in columns haphazardly placed around the room. At the far end, her favourite rocking chair stood still, a cup of now-cold coffee staining a ring on its wooden arm.

She partook of the aroma, reveling in both the scent of knowledge emanating from the open books and the faint smell of orchids and lilies. With gleeful prancing, the mare excitedly made her way across the living room into the open kitchen, tossing two pieces of bread into her toaster and pressing down the tab with her tail. Roseluck waited patiently, her mind travelling over the mental checklist of things to do.

The smell of baking bread assaulted her before the toaster popped. Humming to herself in verses, the mare took the toast and began spreading jam across the warm surface. Her soft humming continued as she took her breakfast in her mouth, turned...

… and came face to face with a smiling Raindrops.

“Hiya, Rosey!” the pegasus called.

Pieces of the jam-covered toast went flying everywhere as Roseluck flopped to the ground.

From the floor, Roseluck gently lifted her head, staring into Raindrops’ sparkling eyes. “Hi, Rosey!” the mare repeated. “How’re you doing?”

What’s she—? But the door’s loc—but how? Roseluck shook her head, eliminating the wild thoughts running through her mind as she scowled and stood.

“What’re you doing here, Drippy?”

Raindrops hopped up and down in place, her wings fluttering hard enough to bend the frail leaves of the bonzai on the window sill, the tree losing yet another of its bent leaves to the breeze.

“I just wanted to see you! It’s the big day, after all!”

Roseluck’s frown refused to fade. “Uh-huh. You know, I was having the perfect morning before you arrived. It was great. I got up on the right side of the bed, made my favourite toast, and was just running through the list of poems I memorized for the occasion when, bam, here you are!”

“Here I am!” the pegasus repeated joyously. “So, are you excited?”

Roseluck picked up her toast from the ground, glaring at the long spidery lines of jam connecting it to the floor. That’ll go for another day, she thought as she tossed the thing into the trash.

“Yes, Raindrops, I’m excited. Now, how’d you get in here?”

“The window,” Raindrops replied, extending a wing towards the nearby window. The very tip of her feather brushed against the potted bonzai, pushing it the millimeter it needed to slide out of the window to the world beyond. One-hundredth of a second later, Raindrops and Roseluck both cringed at the sound of ceramic crashing.

“Ooops?”

Great, and I was having such a good morning...

“All right,” Roseluck sighed. “Go outside, get the bonsai, and bring it back, but take your time!” she said, emphasizing the latter. “Meanwhile, I’ll finish preparing myself to go.”

Raindrops saluted, forehoof slapping at her forehead as she executed the crisp maneuver. “Yes, ma’am!” With that, the mare spun around and took a few steps, then hopped into the air to slip through the window.

Roseluck reared up and slammed the windows shut, shoving a nearby book into the frame to keep it closed.

That should win me a few minutes. Now, what to do first? I’ve lost my appetite; I took a bath to relax last night...

Her eyes wandered across the room, landing on a particular set of notepads on the door’s edge. Her secret weapons. Every poem ever recited by her utmost rival, including all her favourites and the ones used to win the competition the preceding year.

Roseluck shook out her hair and tried to get it to settle before crossing the room and picking up the pad. Beside each poem was a counter, one she knew was its equivalent or better.

Ah, I have it in the bag this year. I have to win, and I shall!

With a happy heart and plenty of self-confidence, Roseluck picked up the notes and tossed them into her saddle bags.

“What’d you put in the bag?” Raindrops asked, not an inch behind Roseluck’s head.

The beige mare climbed into the air in fright before crashing to the ground once more. Blinking, Roseluck’s gaze went from her puffy-faced and smiling friend, to the still-closed door of her house. “How in the name of Luna’s dark behind did you get there?!”

Raindrops looked away, ears tilting down in shame. “Well, I used the other window...”

What?

“What other window?” Roseluck asked.

“The one in your bathroom. I’m real familiar with it.”

“I-I... No, I don’t want to know. Should we get going, already?” The earth pony mare spared a few seconds to peek at a wall-mounted clock and almost cringed as she noticed the time. Time waited for nopony, not even those seeking love. “We’re going to be late.”

“Yup! Let’s go!” Raindrops said as she took to the air and headed to the back of the house.

Where’s she going? Raindrops wondered. “The door is this way,” she said, pointing towards the exit.

“Oh, hehe, I was going out the window again,” Raindrops tittered and giggled aimlessly.

Rolling her eyes, Roseluck turned and trotted to the front door, adjusting her saddlebag as she went.

Backs straight and heads held high in confidence, both mares left the house. They shut and locked the door behind them, leaving the home devoid of life, but for a lonely bonsai in a corner. One she had forgotten to water.


The streets were packed.

Or, at least to the nervous mare, it felt as though they were packed.

In reality, a mere dozen ponies were trotting in the same direction, leisurely taking their time as they headed to the great stage set on the town’s edge, some purposefully, most out of an innate curiosity.

Celestia’s sun beamed down at them, the rays just hot enough to warm their coats without burning them or causing an undue amount of sweat. That did little to help Roseluck.

“Don’t worry!” Raindrops said as she batted a hoof through the air dismissively. “I’m sure she won’t even be that good. Remember how she totalled you last year? It looked like she was leagues ahead of you. But honestly, you worked your fanny off; I’m sure you grew a ton!” The mare fluttered behind her, eyeing her friend’s backside. “So did your fanny.”

“Um, thanks?” Roseluck said, her voice soft and threatening to crack. As she got closer and closer to the location of the event, her back curved and all of her confidence slowly ebbed out.

Raindrops was spurred on by the quiet as they crossed the town’s busy business district and into residential area. At the end of the road were groups of ponies staring over the picket fence that marked the performance area’s limits. “I mean, she had plenty of time to practice, too. In fact, I heard a rumour from Fanny—the clerk at the post office, not your behind—not that it doesn’t speak very fluently.”

“Anywho, she told me your little rival actually spent last year’s winnings, or some of it, to pay herself a month off. One she used to study. Can you imagine? A whole month of becoming better!”

“Raindrops?”

The pegasus fluttered a little higher, seemingly happy just to be addressed. “Yup, Rosey?”

“Would you kindly change the subject?” Roseluck asked, undisguised menace lurking within her voice.

“Oh, okay,” she replied, discouraged for only a second before her good cheer took over. “So, are you going to snog Big Mac if he wins?”

Roseluck sputtered, whatever saliva she had spraying out in an arc before her, creating a tiny rainbow as the day’s light flowed through it. “What?!”

“I mean, if he wins, then you have to give him a victory kiss. And if you win, he’ll probably think that you’re pretty darn cool... for a geek.” Raindrops flew ahead, spun around, and let herself glide backwards, ignoring the approaching crowd. “Did you forget he’d be there? The love of your life? Really? If he’s participating, then he gets to judge you too, and his hooves sure make some noise. So, it'll be easy to see if he likes you.”

“I-I guess.” Roseluck blushed.

Will he like me? I’d like him to.

“And what will you do if you’re set against each other? It’s a competition, after all. Will you let yourself lose? The Apples love winning. Or will you try to beat him? Show him that you’re the mare?”

“I don’t know...” Roseluck replied, her voice sliding into an uncertain quietness as her mane slowly deflated.

Will I be good enough for him? Oh no, what should I do? she wondered as she bit her lower lip.

They kept walking in relative silence, only the sounds of the milling crowd and Raindrop’s spontaneous and off-key humming filling the air. “Did you wear any makeup?” Raindrops suddenly asked.

Roseluck blinked. “Um, no?”

“Huh, I can tell.”

Roseluck slowed to a halt and touched her face. Do I look bad? What if I look silly, or messy? I should have taken a shower, and dressed up. She’ll be dressed; I know it. Oh, Celestia, I’m going to fail so horrendously!

They both carried on, Raindrops clapping her hooves together excitedly as she raced ahead. “Look, Rosey! It’s so awesome!” she called over her shoulder.

The stage before them was clearly meant to rival the preceding year’s, and then blow it away. And then set it on fire. And then write nasty things about it in the local newspapers. Thick wooden beams criss-crossed together as they rose from the ground to hold up a wooden platform. Behind which, a three-sided wall drew the attention of the viewer to the centre. There, two stands were set, both of them topped with a muffler-covered microphone.

At the base of the stage, behind an oaken desk covered in blank sheets, score systems, and forms, was the head judge and scorekeeper: Mister Inky Scribeswell. The blue unicorn huffed in derision at a young foal that approached for a signature.

Roseluck’s eyes were drawn to a board placed to the side of the seating area. On it were dozens of names at the bottom, as well as a skeleton of connecting lines ending in two meeting at the very top.

Oh, Celestia... the scoring brackets, she thought as she unconsciously walked towards them.

Raindrops thumped to her side and followed her friend, smiling dumbly at any passerby. “Where’re you going?”

“If you sign up early,” Roseluck explained, “you get a designated spot on the board. Then, you can see who you’re going to go up against. There are only four rounds. Entering, Semi, Semi-final, and Final. It’s what all the professionals do.”

“Is that what you did?” she asked as they neared a desk tucked beneath the board.

“Of course,” Roseluck said as she stepped up to the table.

“Hello,” said a secretary sitting beyond the wooden surface. “Registration, ticketing, or joining?”

“Joining. My name is Roseluck.” Roseluck reached out and grabbed the ticket hoofed to her by the secretary, then looked up. “And one guest, please.” She received another.

“I’ll register, too!” Raindrops shouted as she pushed her friend aside.

The secretary blinked at her, then shrugged. She muttered something about ‘cannon fodder’ as Raindrops signed the sheet.

“Raindrops!” Roseluck protested. “You don’t know anything about poetry! How can you...”

“Oh shush. I can try, can’t I?” the mare said as she grabbed onto the form. “And I think I’ll do all right!” she huffed before walking by Roseluck and heading to the nearby benches. There, she melded into the single file line of ponies slowly funneling through the gate guarded by a suit-wearing bouncer.

Roseluck shrugged. At least she’ll make for easy competition, she thought as she caught up to her friend. As they slowly coasted into the winding column, she closed her eyes tightly. I need to win. If I lose, it’s not only my love life; it’s my home, my job, my everything. So much counting on this one event. The mare swallowed hard, then let out a shuddering breath, one Raindrops picked up on.

“Are you okay?” the pegasus asked, leaning in towards her friend. “You don’t seem so hot.”

Roseluck shot a glare at her. “Thanks. That’s all I needed to know right about now. That I’m not pretty to boot. I’m already going to fail at this, make myself look like a fool, and fight against crazy odds.”

“Rosey, you’re so stupid!” Raindrops said aloud, drawing the attention of the others in the line. “You’re the single best mare I know! Every time I’m in trouble, you save my sorry flank. Every time somepony’s plants get sick, you’re right there helping them, sometimes for free. You’re always giving away the things you work hard for, you do your best to help everypony, and you study like mad for the things you love and are passionate for!” The mare stomped a hoof into the ground while her eyes filled with passionate tears. “I love you, you stupid mare!”

Raindrops slammed her side onto Roseluck while the beige mare blinked dumbly, wrapping a wing around her tightly. “And don’t you ever think you’re not good enough for anything, ever!”

The crowd was staring, dozens of eyes fixated on Roseluck as she gently pried her friend away from her. She might be crazy, but she’s a real friend, she thought, an unwilling smile making its way to her lips. “Thanks, Drippy... now, let go of me, will you? We have a competition to win!”

I can do this. I might not be the best or the greatest, but I’m the one with the most on the line. I can take pride in that. She puffed out her chest, confidence building in her as she stomped past the gate, her ticket fluttering in the air in her wake until the bouncer caught it.

Raindrops pranced at her side, smiling dumbly at the ponies that lifted eyebrows at her. “Yup, we’re going to win, because we’re the bestest at poems.”

Not the most eloquent delivery, but I can appreciate the sentiment.

Six rows of chairs were laid out on the lawn in front of the stage. All of them leaned at just the right angle for comfort and allow their occupants to tap their hooves onto the wooden knockers below.

Maneuvering forwards through the dense crowd of ponies, Roseluck tried to find a pair of free seats. Her green eyes were focused for any spot that seemed to not have half a dozen ponies questing for it. But, instead of finding the elusive seat, her eyes alighted on a combed-over blond mane belonging to a familiar stallion, one that happened to be sporting the tackiest of bow ties as his little sister wiped a kerchief across his face.

The mare’s heart fluttered madly, bouncing from side to side within her chest as she watched the stallion of her dreams gently bow under his sister ministrations. The sudden feeling of two warm hooves on her back sent a shock down her spine, one that made her jump in fright.

Raindrops head inched into her line of sight. “I’mma go find us some seats. You go talk to him.”

“No, I coul—”

“Yes, you could, and you will.” Raindrops nodded as sagely as she could.

“But, what if he... and... but... I couldn't... ” she yelped, face as red as her mane as she lost all dignity and clutched onto her friend. “Don’t leave me!”

Raindrops’ eyes rolled, and she threatened to leave as the crowd thickened around them. “Look, go there, say hello, wish him the best of luck. That’s it. I’ll be around here somewhere to swoop in and save your pretty plot if anything goes horribly wrong.” The mare shoved Roseluck forwards, almost sending her reeling into an old stallion. “Now go!”

Right, it’s no biggie. I’m acting like a foal. I am a mare with dignity; there’s no reason for me to fear that hot, sweaty piece of stallion. Again, she swallowed hard and walked stiff-legged through the assembly of prose-loving ponies.

Big Macintosh didn’t see her. Instead, his gaze was scanning through the seats, going from the face of one mare to the other. At his side, Applejack spat onto her hoof and rubbed the viscous liquid on a stray strand of mane on her brother’s head.

Roseluck took a deep soothing breath, one that calmed her nerves as she settled at his side, saddlebags shifting into place. “Hello, Mister Macintosh,” she said over the hubbub of the ponies.

The stallion immediately gave her his undivided attention, much to the ire of his sister who rolled her eyes. Applejack sat back and looked upon the two of them judgmentally as she used her hat as a fan. “Hello, Miss Roseluck,” he said before giving her a court bow of his head. “How’re you doin’?”

“I-I...” Roseluck shook her head, mane sliding in front of her eyes. I can do it; stop acting like a school-filly! she abused herself within her mind. Her blush deepened. “I’m doing fine, thank you. I just wanted to wish you the best of luck.”

She extended a hoof.

“Ah don’t mind you two sharin’ well-wishes and all,” Applejack said as she looked quite firmly at Roseluck. “But keep it at that. Wishes.”

Big Macintosh ignored his sister and shook her hoof, his strong limb only gently caressing her own. “Eeyup. Ah’m sure you’ll beat me by a landslide. Ah just hope to keep up long enough to say what I ought to say.”

The possibilities of just what it was the big stallion wanted to tell her raced through her mind before being banished to a far and dark corner.

It’s probably nothing.

“I’m not that good.”

“Nnope,” the stallion denied, shaking his head. “Ah’m sure you’ll be the best,” he continued.

Roseluck blushed and took a few moments to examine her hooves. “Thank you—”

A hush spread out as the last of the ponies found themselves seats and Inky Scribeswell climbed onto the stage. The blue-grey unicorn licked his lips, sat down in front of one of the microphones, then reached into his coat pocket to pull out both thick reading glasses and a large wad of papers.

“I guess I should go,” Roseluck whispered before starting to turn. “I’ll see you soon?”

“Eeyup.” Big Macintosh nodded as he watched her go. His sister gave his shoulder a swift jab before huffing and dragging him to their seats.

Roseluck glared at the orange mare before closing her eyes and finishing her turn. It doesn’t concern me. Now, where’s Drippy? she wondered.

Behind her, nearly every seat in sight was filled and hundreds of ponies flocked beyond the picket fence, quiet despite their quantity. Mares and stallions peeked over each other’s head, only looking back to glare or shush any that made so much as a peep. The air began to feel hot and thick to Roseluck as she made her way to the back, the knowledge that she would soon be performing in front of that entire crowd weighing on her.

I can do it. I have to... Now where’s Raindrops!

“Rosey!” the pegasus shouted as she stood near the far row, a hoof on an unfortunate pony’s head as she climbed onto a chair.

A hundred glares shot out, all of them deflected by the mare’s inattention. “I found us a chairs!”

Roseluck looked elsewhere. Maybe there’s a free spot? Somewhere far, far away from her? she thought while boldly attempting to deny any foreknowledge that she knew the prancing mare.

“Ladies and Gentlecolts,” the old buck said, his voice reedy and thin. He coughed onto the sleeves of his tweed jacket. Some of the uninformed in the crowd bent forwards, perked their ears, or even dared to giggle at him.

“Laaadiiieeees and Gentlecoolllts!” The stallion’s voice blasted out across the assembly, disheveling manes and knocking over fillies.

“Welcome to the two-hundredth and third annual Cross-Equestrian Poetry Com-pe-ti-tion!” The old stallion leaned forwards, tipping the microphone stand and winking at a few pretty mares. “Are you fillies and colts ready? We’re about to reveal our contestants and the who’s who of this wonderful event!”

Roseluck skipped forward, head low as she made her way to Raindrops’ side with profuse apologies to those she disturbed. Come on, I need to see the tables! she thought before sitting at Raindrops side. To her immediate left, a seat was left empty.

Hundreds of sparklers and fireworks went off around the billboard near the entrance, grabbing and keeping the attention of all as the tarp on it waved and fell, cascading to the ground in a massive woosh.

In the front row, a first-time attendee slapped her forehooves rapidly onto the wooden plaque in front of her seat. Inky made his way to the stage’s edge and glared down at her until the claps subsided into nothingness. The mare bowed her head in shame.

Hungrily, every pony in the crowd stared at the billboard on which the names of every contestant were listed, as well as who they were to compete against. The right-hoof part of the chart was blank where the winners would be marked.

Roseluck sighed in relief. I’m not against Big Macintosh. Her eyes then scanned down the list, fixating on the name of her worst enemy, the one who had consistently defeated her.

“Are you okay, Rosey?” Raindrops asked in a whisper, earning herself a few more glares. “You’re shivering all over. Ya’ know, kinda like that time I realllly had to go, and your flower bed was just there...”

“I’m fine, just a little, tiny bit nervous.” She waved in dismissal. “I’ll be better once it starts.”

As long as the competition isn’t too hard, I should be able to do well.

Inky coughed into his microphone, voice amplified by the two magical speakers at either end of the stage. “Competitors and audience, you can now see who is going to fight with whom in this battle of words. May the words be always in your favour.” Every veteran nodded as one, including Roseluck who gave the tiniest of smiles upon seeing Big Macintosh's confused look.

“Now! For the prize for our victors!” With a flourish, the bow-tied old stallion twirled his hoof and pointed to the centre stage where an explosion of smoke and glitter appeared before dissipating in the light wind. As the cloud faded, a thick sack appeared, one with the iconic symbol of the bit emblazoned on its side. “Our lucky winner shall receive a grandiose award of five hundred bits!”

Swallowing hard, Roseluck tallied the large sum in her mind. That’s... that’s more than I make in peak season, if it lasted six months! I need to win.

With another puff and putter of smoke, the bag disappeared. “We have one last thing to ask for: your absolute quiet. Silence is golden, as is this competition, so please, be as discreet as possible at all times unless prompted to vote. The voting shall be carried out with your hooves.” He pointed to the desk where he had been sitting earlier, located near the stairs to the stage. On it was a tall device with gilded decorations and a huge gauge. “I present to thee, our Clopometer: a device that measures the level and enthusiasm of any crowd. That is all.”

The stallion spun and walked off the stage towards his desk where he adjusted a black stick ending in a net-covered bulb. Scribeswell pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “I shall call upon our first competitors: One Madam Rarity, and one Sir Snowflakes. Please step onto the stage.”

Two rows in front of Roseluck, a white-coated mare stood, her gleaming purple mane catching onto the sun’s rays and sparkling as it settled perfectly around her neck. Rarity pranced forwards, muzzle in the air as she stepped upon the stage, oozing confidence the entire time. She looks like trouble, Roseluck thought as her eyes narrowed at the mare.

From the opposite end of the crowd, a full grown pegasus stood, his tiny white wings fluttering as he hobbled towards the stage. With massive muscles bulging at every step, he visibly held back a scream.

“The usual rule of ladies first shall apply,” Inky said, pushing up his glasses as he spoke. “Madam Rarity, who would you like to start?”

“Hmm,” the mare hummed, tapping a manicured hoof to her chin. “I believe it only fair to begin myself,” she spoke into her microphone, voice perfectly pitched to sound both educated, fair, and condescending. Lightly, she coughed, before beginning.

“Dreams fancied her another time

And in those times she'd work and rhyme

Dancing, humming, singing of love

She longed to be adored above all else around

Her chance did come, oh at long last!

To leave her prince fully aghast

Lost in her eyes, his heart would fly

And together the two would lie under the stars

When he saw her, he turned away

No, it was not to be this way!

She took flight after him with haste

But the mare was not of his taste, the poorest dear

The prince was cold as his namesake

His heart was stone, his smile fake

Desperately clinging to her dream

She knew her fight had turned upstream, her fancy died

She left the Gala in a trance

She had not even had a chance

To show the land her noble heart

Nor her business did she impart, not that they'd hear

For her the night had come to close

Over nobles, her friends she chose

The night was a wash, oh no doubt

But her heart escaped pending drought of broken dreams”

Throughout the crowd, dozen of ponies clapped their hooves against their wooden bars, including a reluctant Roseluck. She’s pretty good, she thought as she eyed the clopometer. The red bar within the machine ticked up to the six mark.

“I believe it’s your turn, Mister... Snowflakes?” she said, raising an eyebrow at the stallion. “Try your best.” With a sly smile, the mare spun around and walked a few steps from her microphone.

“Yeah,” the stallion said under his breath, flexing every muscle in his massive body as he stepped up to the microphone.

“If you can LIFT when all others around you are flailing their weak little hooves,

Looking like a bunch of sissies;

If you can look yourself in the mirror every morning and go,

YEEEAAAAAHHH, take a look at this fine speciman!

If you can can make mares swoon with just a manly glance,

Or, being glared at, glare back and break a window,

Or tell haters: ‘Deal with it son.’

If you can dream of being strong,

Yet not only dream but be strong

Then son,

You'll be a stallion.

YEEEEEEEEEEEEEE--”

The massive pony took in an equally massive gulp of air before screaming, his entire face contorting as his jowls flapped around and a deluge of spittle assaulting the ponies in the foremost rows.

“--EEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAH!

The clapping was as deafening as it was sporadic; nopony seemed to know whether they should clap or blink dumbly at the prose. That was... impressive. Roseluck’s eyes narrowed as they looked at the Clopometer.

The red needle twitched forwards before finally freezing on the mark of seven point one.

“Yeeeaaahhh!” Snowflakes shouted as he reared onto his hind legs and flexed. Throughout the crowd, a murmur of surprise and elation at the first victory spread around unabated, until Inky slapped a gavel onto his desk, the loud tap cutting off any conversations.

“Sir Snowflake has won.” The old pony coughed, then flipped a tiny hourglass over, allowing a steady pour of sand to dribble to the bottom. “We will take a two minute pause. Noise is allowed, but please keep it at a respectable low.”

Raindrops placed a wingtip on her friend’s shoulder. “That was so cool! Way better than last year’s! Didn’t you love it?” she asked, eyes sparkling even as her entire body shivered with excitement.

“Yeah, much better.”

It was hard enough to scratch by last year...

Her gaze wandered to the scoreboard as a pegasus moved Snowflake’s plaque forwards, turning his victory into an absolute. Roseluck gulped. “I don’t know if I can do it,” she suddenly admitted aloud.

“Aw, don’t say that. I’m sure the rest of them are all shaking in their boots. Except for Her. She doesn’t wear boots.”

“Yeah...” Roseluck sighed. On stage, Rarity was walking away, escorted by a young gentlecolt as the mare bawled her eyes out, long runs of makeup running down her cheeks. “But what if I end up like her?” she wondered aloud.

Raindrops hummed. “Well, you could live with me?” The mare’s eyes suddenly widened and she gasped. “It could be like a slumber party... but foreveeeeer.”

“No, I can’t afford to lose.” Roseluck stomped a hoof down, clacking it against her clopping device.

“Rosey, you don’t get it, do you?” Raindrops shook her head. “This isn’t about being the best; it’s about pushing yourself, becoming better. It’s not for others, or to entertain, or to make somepony happy. It’s about making something out of yourself.” She smiled conspiratorially and leaned towards Roseluck, eyebrows wagging the entire time. “And making sure Big Mac knows you’re hot with the vernacular. If you know what I mean.”

Roseluck stifled a giggle, one that shot saliva up her nose and sent her into a fit of coughing.

“Feeling better?” Raindrops asked, voice soft and kind. “I don’t like seeing you beat yourself up like that. Cheer up, will you? You have me, a great friend if I do say so myself, and Big Mac, a tender stallion that is really, really into you.”

A tiny blush spread across Roseluck’s cheeks. She is a good friend. “We don’t really know that...”

“Whether or not he loves you? Please, I read that poem...”

“I guess—” Roseluck froze as a nagging tingle travelled through her mind. “Wait just one moment. When did you read that poem, exactly?” she asked, glaring suspiciously at the pegasus.

Raindrops pointed at Inky as he levitated his gavel. “Look, it’s about to begin; no chit-chat timey now!”

Scribeswell climbed back onto the stage, his old back creaking in time with the wooden steps as another eerie silence spread across the assembled ponies. In the nearby forest, Roseluck could see a timid yellow pegasus gently encouraging the birds and critters to quell their noise.

Right, we’ll talk about that later.

The old stallion tapped a hoof against one of the microphones, as if to ascertain his role as orator. “We are about to begin the second round of this event! Are yooooouuu reaadyy?”

Nopony cheered. All was good.

“Our next contestants are Madam Twilight Sparkle and Mister Big Macintosh!” As he uttered the name of her beloved, Roseluck simultaneously slid to the edge of her seat and bit her lower lip, eyes narrowing onto Big Macintosh as he stood. The stallion looked over and right at her, his green eyes reflecting the midday sun with a calm twinkle as they locked into hers. He nodded, a tiny smile crossing his lips.

Roseluck swallowed hard as she watched him leave, joining Twilight Sparkle’s side as they made their way to the stage. Like the gentlecolt he was, Big Macintosh stood aside and aided the lavender mare up the steps before trotting to his position on the stage.

“Madam Twilight, do you wish to begin, or will the honours go to Mister Macintosh?” Inky asked as he sat at his desk.

“Statistically, those that go first have a twelve percent increase in viewer attention. I shall go first,” Twilight said as she adjusted the height of the microphone. Her horn glowing, the mare made a pair of thin glasses and a scroll appear out of midair, both levitating in front of her before she placed the purple glasses over her nose and unfurled the scroll. “And I quote:

What is in a name?

What about a summer’s day?

Simple. Lots of quarks.

They surround us all.

They make us all. Yay science!

They create us all.

The ravens above.

The cacti in the deserts.

The world we stand on.

All are made of quarks.

The Prench Astrophysicist

As he watches stars.

He is not concerned

Over the most noble quark

For he fears the mobs.

The mobs stalk the streets

Seeking to learn of the quark

But he hides in fear.

The quark is noble.

We must embrace its friendship.

For it makes us strong.”


“What’s a quark?” Raindrops asked as the sound of a hundred hooves slamming down on their wooden cloppers drowned out her question.

Worry and fear shot through Roseluck’s mind, but almost immediately they were drowned out by the sound. Still, one thought persisted: Poor Big Macintosh.

The Clopometer hit a solid seven point nine before freezing. Twilight blinked at the result. “Hmm, my math was off...” she murmured unknowingly into the microphone before trotting back to her place.

With a solid slap of Inky’s gavel, the crowd subsided, impatiently fretting in their seats as Big Macintosh walked to the microphone. Taking his time, the stallion bent down and grabbed the stand's adjustments, fixing them until the microphone was high enough to reach his chin. “Ah wrote this for somepony Ah really care about... Eeyup.

Words cannot do justice to the beauty of this mare,

My humble offering will surely fall short,

For she sets my heart off like a frightened hare,

Making my words impossible to sort.

Time and again I have tried to express

My deepest feelings for this angel,

But my attempts could only be labeled as tragic.

I can no longer, my love for her, suppress,

And have resolved that as long as I am able,

To confess to her just how she makes me feel fantastic.

Her radiant red mane can catch every ray of sunlight,

Amplifying its elegance a thousandfold.

But even in the dreary darkness of night,

She sets the world aglow with fairness untold.

The crimson she bears in both mane and tail

Match her perfectly to her namesake flower,

Streaking idly by, as she, her plants take care,

Leaving no doubt in my mind that she could never fail,

For a cure for her plants she would the world scour,

Time that I would give my hind legs to share.

So once more I attempt to speak from my heart,

Letting the dice fall where they may,

Yet I found it hard to make myself start,

Worried my speech might lose its way.

Then I thought about the object of my affections,

And how her presence makes me feel like I’m floating,

And I realized there was only one thing to do.

Ignoring any lingering objections,

I found the greatest thing worth noting:

The simple fact that I love you.


Roseluck was the first to react, madly stabbing at her clopboard even as most mares -and some stallions- wiped their hooves across their eyes and finished their d’awwing.

He-he does like me.

Slowly but surely, every pony that had half a heart began pounding at their boards, the noise rising to a crescendo above them all. The red bar of the Clopometer gently and steadily rose until it shivered right below the eight point five mark.

Roseluck’s eyes went wide, sparkling in the midday sun as the sound of the thundering hooves hovered around the edge of the forest before dissipating into the clear blue sky.

Author's Note:

Rarity: Esteem_punk
Snowflakes: Cynewulf (Yeah)
Twilight Sparkle: Frederick The Saiyan
Big Macintosh: Cpl Hooves


Edited by:
-Staple Cactus
-The Descendant

Preread by:
-Frederick the Saiyan
-Cpl Hooves
-Fluttersyke
-AnotherTimeLord


Rush written.