TerraForming: Day 6 · 6:32am Aug 15th, 2015
I went to a baseball game which lasted far longer than it had any right to, so I wasn't able to write anything today. As per my promise, I'll spend tomorrow updating a story. However, in order to appease the gods, I've dug into my plethora of unfinished stories and found one to share for those who wish to read it.
It is a Mauxie story, meant to be a one-shot similar to Music of the Night (Remember that time I broke the OTP? I'm a bad person. Also, the world needs more Octavia ships because she's a cutie). I never got past the first scene, writing about 2,000 words of what would probably be a 6,000-10,000 word one-shot.
Tentative Title: "Storm"
There is no end to a rock farmer’s work. Consider, for a moment, the amount of rocks on the average farm, one which does not necessarily specialize in the harvesting of stones. There are, to put it simply, quite a few rocks and a good amount of a farmer’s time is spent kicking away pebbles, throwing away stones, and wondering how exactly a boulder found its way into the middle of an apple orchard.
Having established this, consider the number of rocks on a rock farm, which is to say, a farm that actively works to increase the number of rocks on any given tract of land. If there are ‘quite a few’ rocks on the average farm, then there are ‘far too many’ on the average rock farm.
The Pie family’s rock farm was not the average rock farm.
Whether through some magical intervention or through natural phenomenon, the Pie family’s land had the rather peculiar property of being very, very good at growing rocks. This was a very good thing for the Pie family business as there were plenty of rocks to farm. However, it was a rather bad thing for the Pie family, as there were far more rocks than Pie family members.
Considering all of this, it is not strange to learn that Maud Pie spent a fair bit more time outside than she did inside, most of which was spent crushing rocks into smaller rocks and carting those smaller rocks into a silo. It was monotonous work, but Maud carried it out with no complaint.
Back and forth she went. Rocks to cart and back to rocks. Cart to silo, then back to rocks. Maud worked for hours, the tasks more instinct than conscious effort.
Cart number twelve.
Maud turned away from the worn cart, walking towards a boulder of middling size. The stone stood at about her height and about double her length.
Rock number fifty-four.
She surveyed the stone for a moment, walking around the boulder before finding a suitable place to begin. Maud pressed her front hooves against the rock, slowly adding pressure. Cracks began to form on the stone’s surface, slowly snaking their way away from Maud’s hooves. Then she reared back, crashing her hooves against the boulder. The stone broke along the cracks, forming smaller, if still sizable, chunks.
Maud tossed the smaller of the chunks into the cart. Those pieces too large for the cart were broken further.
Rock number sixty three. Sixty four. Sixty five.
Before long, Maud had a full cart before her. She strapped the harness onto herself, turning towards the silo.
A single drop of water fell onto Maud’s muzzle.
Maud looked upwards. The sky was an angry, dark grey, not even a patch of blue to be seen.
Another drop of rain followed the first. Then another. And another. Then the rain came down in torrents, drenching the entire farm in one fell swoop.
The door to the Pie family house, barely visible through the rain, opened. An older, ocher-colored stallion poked his head through the doorway.
"Maud!" called the stallion. "Are you okay out there?"
"It's raining," answered Maud.
"Raining too hard for work! Put away the cart and get yourself inside!"
Maud nodded, though it's doubtful that her father could see the gesture, and adjusted her path, hearing towards the barn rather than the silo.
It was a short trip, if made more difficult by mud and rain, but it was certainly a fair bit drier in the barn. Admittedly, the roof had a few leaks and the whole structure smelled of damp and mildew, but it was, for the most part,not actively raining inside of the barn.
Maud shrugged off her harness, pushing the cart into a relatively dry corner. She kicked her hooves out slightly, getting rid of the excess mud, then shook her head. Her mane flew wildly, spraying water droplets all along the floor and walls.
There was a sound in the corner of the room, something shifting from the rain. Maud ignored it, crawling out of her frock and wringing it slightly. She turned, hanging her frock on a nail protruding from the wall.
That sound again, like something brushing against the floor. Maud stood a little straighter, turning towards the source of the sound. A stack of sandbags surrounded most of a corner, obscuring a well-sized space. Maud did not remember anypony in the Pie family doing that particular task.
The sound again, coming from behind the wall of sandbags.
Maud ran a hoof through her mane, setting loose hairs into their proper place before walking over to the sandbags and peeking over the edge of the wall.
A blue unicorn sat on the other side of the sandbags, a purple wizard’s hat embroidered with blue stars floating before her and a matching cape laying on the ground.
“Stupid weather,” the mare muttered, wringing out her hat, “forcing the Great and Powerful Trixie to hide in a common barn. Trixie should be in Canterlot, not this hovel.”
The mare, Trixie, sneezed; the same sound Maud had heard multiple times since entering the barn.
“And now Trixie’s coming down with a cold! Without so much as a bed to sleep on.” Trixie grabbed her cloak, wrapping it around herself. “I miss my wagon.”
“What are you doing here?” asked Maud flatly.
Trixie jumped, her head snapping towards the mare. “Trixie—Trixie is—What are you doing here?”
“Waiting for the rain to pass.”
“Well, s-so is Trixie!” She haughtily brushed aside a lock of her mane, a condescending smirk growing on her face. “Yes, the Great and Powerful Trixie was just on her way to perform in Canterlot.”
“Okay.”
“It’s a very exclusive event. Anypony in Canterlot that actually matters will be there.”
“Okay.”
Trixie paused, throwing a flat look at Maud. “You don’t seem very impressed by Trixie.”
“Your cape has mud on it.”
“What?” Trixie whipped her cloak off, holding it in front of her. The cape was in rather a sorry state, subtly patched in some places, light stitches in others. However, that damage was overshadowed by the realization that about half of the inside was covered in mud.
“It’s a lot of mud,” noted Maud.
“You-You idiot!” Trixie shoved her hat onto her head, her magic flaring once again and scraping at the mud on her cape. “Why didn’t you tell me earlier?!”
“I thought you knew.”
“Why would I want mud on my cloak?!”
“I don’t know.”
Trixie groaned, her magic working on the mud for a while longer. Despite her best efforts, however, Trixie was incapable of completely cleaning the cloak.
Maud watched her work. “There’s a wash bucket in the corner.”
“Trixie does not need a ‘wash bucket’.” She continued to work on her cape. “Trixie’s magic is more than sufficient for such a menial task.”
“There’s still a lot of mud.”
“Let Trixie work!”
Maud seemed to consider this for a moment, then nodded, walking off to the other side of the barn and sitting down.
Trixie watched her walk away, glaring the entire time. When Maud sat down, Trixie returned to her work, her magic going over the cloak again and again. Time passed in this way, the silence in the barn broken only by the falling rain and Trixie’s occasional grumbles.
Maud coughed.
“What?!” snapped Trixie, turning around sharply.
“Nothing. I was just coughing.”
“Do you think that the Great and Powerful Trixie does not know when she is being made fun of?”
“I wasn’t making fun of you.”
Trixie scowled haughtily. “A likely story. In recompense for this affront, Trixie demands that you bring forth the ‘wash bucket’.”
Maud got back to her hooves, walking over to the corner of the barn and returning, now clutching a dented and slightly rusted tin bucket in her mouth. An equally dented but less rusted washboard stuck out of the bucket. Maud unceremoniously dropped it next to Trixie, sloshing slightly murky water onto the ground.
“Soap’s in the water,” said Maud.
Trixie’s magic flared, fishing the bar of soap out of the bucket. She lowered her cape into the bucket, soaking it thoroughly before resting it against the washboard and scrubbing at it vigorously with the bar of soap.
"You've done this before," noted Maud.
"How absurd," responded Trixie without pausing her work. "The Great and Powerful Trixie would have no reason to learn this labor."
“Where did you learn how to do it?”
Trixie dropped her cape into the bucket, throwing a fierce glare at Maud. “Clearly, the Great and Powerful Trixie is gifted enough to learn anything just by watching somepony else perform it.”
“That’s impressive.”
“Of course it is.” Trixie smiled in satisfaction, turning back towards the wash bucket. She tilted her head slightly, the better to hide the small dip in her smile. “As if Trixie could be anything but impressive.”
Maud nodded.
Silence fell on the barn once more. Trixie’s magic flared, lifting her cape out of the bucket. She shook it a few times, flicking away as much of the water as she could. It was, however, still rather drenched.
“Now if you don’t mind,” said Trixie, flinging the cape onto her back, “Trixie has spent quite enough time in this barn.”
“Your clothes are still wet,” said Maud.
“Trixie is well aware this,” replied Trixie, walking sharply across the barn and pushing the door open. The rain was coming down in sheets, obscuring the first few yards beyond the doorway. “But how dry Trixie’s clothes are will not matter in a few moments.”
Maud nodded impassively.
“Trixie is leaving now.”
“Okay.”
Trixie turned, staring out into the sheets of rain. “Okay.”
“Okay.”
Trixie turned around, letting the door shut behind her. “Are you mocking Trixie again?”
“No.”
“You better not be.”
“I’m not.”
“Good. The Great and Powerful Trixie does not tolerate any taunting. Now, if you will stop stalling Trixie.” Trixie turned sharply, her head slightly lowered as she took her first few steps through the barn door. She didn’t get very far, however, as she found that the doorway was already occupied.
Trixie let out a shriek, jumping back reflexively. A older, ochre-colored stallion stood in the doorway, a black umbrella hat perched on his head. He regarded Trixie for a moment, before shifting his gaze over to Maud.
“Who’s your friend, Maud?” asked the stallion.
“Her name’s Trixie. She was hiding in the barn.”
“Trixie was not hiding!” protested Trixie. “She was seeking temporary shelter.”
The stallion’s eyes turned back to Trixie. “It seems that you’ve found it.”
Trixie forced herself to meet the stallion’s gaze. “And Trixie was just about to leave until you blocked her path.”
“Forgive me.” The stallion stepped out of the doorway. “I did not mean to stop you, only to make sure that nothing happened to my daughter. Maud has been in here for far longer than usual.”
“I’ve been talking to Trixie.”
“I see. Well, Trixie, I do not intend to keep you from wherever it is you intend to go, but I should warn you that it’s a mighty big storm and there’s no sign of it letting up.”
Trixie gulped nervously but pulled her hat stubbornly over her eyes. “The Great and Powerful Trixie is Greater and more Powerful than a few drops of water.”
A peal of thunder shook the barn. Trixie jumped at the sound.
The stallion frowned. “You’re free to do as you like, but the Pies don’t easily turn away a stranger in need.”
“Trixie has no need for sympathy.”
“How about some time to relax and dry off your cloak until the going gets a little easier?”
Trixie’s stubborn gaze wavered slightly. “Trixie doesn’t accept charity.”
“Help with dinner, work around the farm,” the stallion replied with a shrug. “Plenty of ways to pay back a kindness.”
“That’s… that’s…” Trixie furrowed her brow, trying to find a way to rebuke the offer. She found none. “The Great and Powerful Trixie will accept your offer,” she said with an arrogant tilt to her head. “She will grace your farm with her presence for a time.”
“We’ll be glad to have you,” replied the stallion after some hesitation. “I’m Igneous Rock. You’ve already met my daughter Maud. I’ll introduce you to the rest of the family once we get back to the house.” He popped open his umbrella, handing it to Maud. “Maud, take Trixie to the house. I’ll look around for the spare umbrella and join you after a time.”
“Okay.” Maud looked towards Trixie, who carefully joined Maud under the umbrella. They stepped out of the rain and towards the Pie’s home.
I wrote this many months ago, so it doesn't count towards TerraForming, but I didn't want to leave anyone hanging.
Have a Trixie B-BUT IT'S NOT LIKE I PICKED IT OUT FOR YOU, BAKA:
