//------------------------------// // Not his best impression // Story: House of the Rising Sunflower // by kudzuhaiku //------------------------------// The cart was an excellent representation of the Equestrian military. It had everything that made it a cart, but nothing that made it special. It was utilitarian, rugged, and made to take heaps of abuse. Most of it was cast aluminium reinforced with a steel frame, and the tires appeared to be solid rubber. It was, as Radiance suggested, large enough to hold two ponies in armor. In the rear, it had a tailgate with a kick-switch up front so the flier of the cart could open it, allowing for air drops of goods. Spark lamps were mounted both front and rear so it would meet city airspace regulations. It was a miracle of modern technology that weighed just a hair under one-hundred pounds. How this was managed, Sundance had no idea, but he was no cart builder. He saw a few dents, a few dings, but he didn’t mind, because this gave the cart some character. Pleased with what he saw, Sundance was oblivious to the wide grin on his face. “This is one of the upgraded models,” the guard said while Sundance pranced in a circle around the cart. “It has twenty-inch wheels, which makes the landings a little nicer than the previous version with sixteen-inch wheels, but the landings are still rough. The sides are aluminium with a reinforced airship-grade steel frame, but the floor is heavy gage steel diamond mesh to save weight. It’ll also keep rain from pooling in the bed, which is real bad because water is heavy, as I am sure you know. The guard has a name for these carts on account of just how ugly they are. We call it a ‘rape protection wagon.’ You might haul a date home in one of these things, but you’re not getting laid, even if you somehow stick a perfect landing.” “I bet the mesh floor is also great for vomit,” Sundance remarked while he looked down at the floor itself. “Tell me, why haven’t you enlisted?” the guard responded. “You’re officer material, sir. Witty, but not too full of your own dung.” “I was drafted for something else.” Sundance ceased his circling, stopped, and had himself a good look at the guard, who was resplendent in the sun. His armor was perfect—too perfect—and for the first time Sundance noticed that it was different from the standard guard armor. This had tiny suns on it in various places and had a good deal more visual appeal. It was almost as if it was made to shine in the sun, with each angled surface just perfect for reflecting golden rays. “So I heard.” The guard smiled and let out a husky chuckle. “It’s quite a story. It’s in all the papers. You came looking for your grandmother and you also found your heritage. It really is quite heartwarming.” “Heartwarming? That’s a curious thing for a guard to say, no offense.” The guard removed his helmet and underwent a sudden, drastic change. He shrank, becoming a little smaller, though not much, became distinctly feminine, and his—her—pelt went from regulation gleaming white to a dull, drab green. The guard—this mare—appeared to be carved from solid granite and her laugh was somehow even deeper and huskier than her regulation voice. “None taken.” The armored mare snapped to attention. “I am Immortal Solar Olive of the Zero-One Canterlot Regiment. The very best of the best. It is a pleasure to meet you.” Now it was quite difficult to say anything and Sundance had trouble finding his tongue. She was stunning, beautiful chiseled perfection, complete with a husky, gravel-filled voice. Though his mind and his mouth had trouble forming a sentence, his wings had plenty to say and sprang out from his sides with a near supersonic crack. The Immortal Solar—the mare, Olive—laughed and covered her mouth with an armored hoof. “The last time this happened it was because I couldn’t stop looking at my phys-ed teacher,” Sundance muttered and he wished that the fevered throb in his wings would go away. The cold breeze that whipped about just wasn’t enough to soothe him. It was just too much to take in; one rather awesome sky truck and one stunning mare—in armor, no less. More husky chuckles could be heard from Olive, and her armor made not a single sound. Young as she was, she already had laugh lines in the corners of her eyes and her jovial, jolly nature stood out in sharp contrast to the armor that she wore. The way she laughed was attractive, big full body laughs that held nothing back. Sundance was almost certainly smitten, but he had felt this way before. Having felt it before made it no less intense now. “Canterlot has an open sky today,” Olive tried to suppress her laughter and she continued, “but you need to pay attention to what I’m about to tell you next.” She pointed with her hoof at a nearby flag and looked Sundance in the eye. “Flags today are green, which means open sky. If the flags around the city are yellow, that means experienced fliers only, and I’m pretty sure that you qualify, from what I heard. If there are red flags around the city, the skies are closed and nopony or no creature is to approach for the sake of public health and safety. Red flags mean almost certain death on approach.” “When I came in I couldn’t see much of anything, and certainly not any red flags.” Sundance frowned and thought about what Princess Celestia had said about the yardstick of stupidity. “I had no way of knowing—” “My Empress, the Immortal Princess Celestia, commanded that I teach you. She also said that on windy days, there are practical warning signs, such as seeing the smoke from chimneys blow sideways… or downwards. If you approach the city on days like that, odds are, you’re going to die a messy, agonising death.” “Look, I’ve slalomed the stacks at the Utility Muffin Research Kitchen, and I’ve done it in high winds with a faceful of epic stink. I’ve gone cafe racing up and down the avenues and boulevards of Baltimare, flying at street level.” Though he was not one for boasting, a part of Sundance wanted to impress this mare, and his barrel swelled while his chest scruffle poofed out in an inviting display. “And I made the treacherous approach to Canterlot in a blinding storm. Give me any city, in any conditions, and I can fly through it.” “Flying isn’t the problem, birdbrain, it’s that sudden stop when you splat into something solid.” Deflating a bit, Sundance blew a lip-flappy raspberry and rolled his eyes. “As if.” “Look, cleaning up those messes is a real pain. Picking brain matter out of masonry is mighty unpleasant.” Olive’s jaw firmed and her hooves braced against the cobblestones of the courtyard. “If you fly into Canterlot again when the sky is closed, there will be consequences, no matter what the reason might be. You’ve been told, so now you know better.” “I’ll keep it in mind.” Sundance tried to sound as cool and suave as possible, and he flashed his most winning smile at Olive, hoping that she too, would smile once more. In the back of his mind a teeny, tiny voice existed, warning him that Officer Mom would take offense to any infractions of the law and that by even thinking about it, he was treading on thin ice. Another voice poo-pooed this, and suggested that Olive was attractive enough to risk an ear twisting. “Look here, peacock boy, I get it. I do. You’re at that age where you want to strut your stuff and show the world what you’ve got. I’m that way myself and I’m still in hot water for a little stunt I pulled. Even after a direct order to withdraw and regroup, I engaged a parasprite infested hive hydra—” “A what what?” “Hydras regrow their heads if you cut them off. A new species of parasprites now infests the necks of hydras, breeding and spawning new parasprites, which feed on the continuously regenerating necks. The poor hydra is driven berserk by the pain and it is quite dangerous.” Sundance’s mouth fell open and his eyes went as wide as tea saucers. “Showing off won’t get you anywhere, ‘cept maybe killed. Now you be careful with that.” Olive gestured at the sky truck with her armor-plated hoof and gave Sundance a nod. “Go and be a good lord for your peasants, and not some bastard peacock kaa-niggit. Get outta here, ya mug.” She flashed him a smile again and the laugh-lines returned to the corners of her eyes. “Do come back and say hello sometime, but only when the flags are the right colour.” With that, Olive slipped her helmet back on, transformed, and sauntered off, leaving Sundance standing agape next to his slightly-used sky truck. While Sundance strutted down the hall after the nice orderly, he couldn’t help but feel foolish and stupid, because he had totally not acted like his usual well-behaved self. It preyed upon his thoughts and lingered in his mind, a nagging sense of self-correction that chided him for his foolish actions. Of course, he blamed it all upon the fact that the blood had left his brain and had gone to other places. He had been able to talk to Olive, a pleasant change from his usual tongue-tied state, but looking back on it all, he had nothing worthwhile to say. It felt as though time had been rewound, that he was somehow back in secondary school, floundering over what made him tick and what aroused his tock. Those had been the most confusing of days and he truly hated remembering them. When he thought about his porn stash locked away in his trunk, he suffered a powerful outward cringe and then ground his teeth together. “Something wrong?” the orderly asked, pausing and looking back over her shoulder. To which Sundance said the first response that came to mind, and he did so without thinking: “I uh, think I uh, pulled a groin muscle or something.” “If you want me to look at that, you’ll have to wait till I’m off work and you’ll have to buy me supper first. At least you’re handsome enough that I won’t need a drink or three.” The mare turned her head around to face forward, flicked her tail at Sundance, and then continued down the hall. “If you stay till morning and you want me to fix you breakfast, there had better be a proposal, bub, or I’ll drag your sorry hindquarters out to the curb and kick them into the trash pile.” Lips curled back in fright, Sundance sucked air through his exposed teeth, shuddered, and wondered if it was really that easy to find a wife. Some mares were desperate, and hey, who was he to judge? After a few seconds, he recovered enough to follow the mare and wondered how Earwax was doing. Earwax, as it turned out, was eating chocolate and graham crackers smeared with peanut butter. She looked a little weary and for Sundance, there was something endearing about her ernest smile adorned with crumbs as well as being smudged with chocolate. Her eyes were bright, merry, and she seemed as though she was in a remarkable mood for a pony that had just lost a leg. “Milord!” Earwax cried upon seeing him, and this sent crumbs spraying everywhere. “Earwax, can you call me Sundance?” “No.” The mare’s mouth shut and her teeth clicked together. Huffing a bit, Sundance puffed out, but said nothing because he was just too happy to see Earwax as happy as she was. “Do I get to see my sister? I’ve never, ever spent the night away from her before. It hurts inside. Yer gonna to take me home, right? Even though I’ve only got three legs?” Sundance nodded. “That’s right. I’m going to take you home to your sister. I have a cart to carry you in and I’m going to fly you home.” At this, Earwax swallowed, and it was not a good sound. She sank down in her bright red plastic chair, her ears went limp, and she shook her head from side to side. “Can’t I just walk, Milord?” “Home is hundreds of miles from here.” Sundance watched a crumb fall from Earwax’s lower lip and his heart warmed with pity for her. “Do you even know which way home is?” To which Earwax whispered in reply, “I have trouble remembering my left from my right. I’ve never been good at that stuff, but Earwig is.” “Look, I bet your sister is probably sick with worry, so we need to hurry home. Which means that you need to be brave for your sister’s sake. Right now, a few nice ponies are trying to make my cart a little nicer for you to ride in so you won’t get too banged up. If we hurry and I have a tailwind, I might be able to get you home before sundown.” “I’m scared of the dark, Milord. I don’t wanna be out in no dark.” “Which is why you can’t walk home, Earwax. It would take days—” Sundance had to stop because the look on the older mare’s face was heartbreaking. Perhaps it was the realisation of just how far away from home she was, or maybe he was being insensitive somehow, and he wondered if she felt insulted because it kind of sounded like he was saying something bad about her three-legged slowness. He didn’t know, and that made things awful. “It ain’t right for the Lord to be pulling the peasant,” Earwax said and then she licked her lips. “It’s wrong. Wrong. It goes against the natural order of things. I’m supposed to be pulling the Lord, if there’s a wagon.” “Look, I hate to do this, but there just isn’t time to talk about this and to try and reassure you. The coming dark is a real threat, because I can’t see in that. I’m not a night terror. Earwax, you’re scared, and I understand that, but I have to do right by you. Now, you’re gonna get into that cart, you’re not gonna fight me about it, I am going to take you home to your sister, and that’s final.” In response, Earwax gulped, but said nothing, and Sundance felt a terrible guilt wash over him. He didn’t like being authoritative, and while he quailed from his own actions, he thought about his earlier encounter with Princess Celestia. While Radiance disarmed ponies with a smile, his mother did the same with silliness. Princess Celestia eased off the pressure of tyranny with gentle silliness and like a stinging slap to the face, Sundance was struck by an epiphany. “If you give me any lip, if you sass me even in the slightest, if you use any of that snark that you and your sister showed to me when I met you, then everypony will be getting a ride in the cart and I’ll be pulling them, too. And it will all be your fault that everything is topsy turvy. You got me? Your fault. All the blame will be on you.” Earwax appeared truly panicked, she ceased breathing entirely, and after a few seconds, her eyes rolled back into her head. With a terrific thump, she crashed to the floor and lay sprawled in a heap upon the gleaming sanitary tiles. Sundance looked down at her, his lips pressed tight together, and realised that he had gone too far. He had blown the poor mare’s mind. Too much silly, perhaps. Still, this worked out to his advantage, and it was time to get her home. Now, it was time to find a nurse or an orderly and get out of here…