PROJECT HIVE
Clunk
Clunk.
The Overmare's ear twitched at the tell-tale sound of a full mug of tea being set onto her desk. With a weary, muttered thanks, she pulled it over and all but shoved her muzzle into the cloud of fragrant steam rising from it. The pony leader took a long, slow breath, letting the scent clear away some of the lingering fog, glad for the break from the veritable mountain of paperwork, forms and reports littering the office.
Looking equally as tired, the Regent sipped at her own mug, eyeing the assorted piles of paper almost burying the two desks. Seperate from all the other paperwork, both desks had a single, identical stack of reports on them, though neither really needed to read them at this point, as both the reports themselves and the relevant information from the Science division were all but burned into their minds... much like the Science reports were burning themselves into the terminal screens.
With a sigh, the changeling leader flicked off both terminals, the letters and numbers fading slowly from sight. Even as the heads of the Hive, neither Regent nor Overmare were immune to being scolded by Maintenance for wearing out equipment.
"I think," the Regent began after several long, quiet minutes filled only with the sounds of slurping, "that there's only one real conclusion here."
"Mmmphm..." The Overmare nodded her agreement as she nursed a slightly scalded tongue, the life-giving tea hotter than she'd expected, but quite necessary at this point.
The Regent paused for another sip, trying to keep her sleep-deprived thoughts on track. A glance at the top-most report helped things move along. "We must heal the poison, as the Queen directed." She paused again, staring into the distance and idly sipping at the precious source of caffeine in her mug.
For her part, the Overmare nodded again, sleep-deprived mind slow to reach any kind of conclusion, but getting there eventually. "But not the radiation." The statement was made with as much confidence as the barely-awake mare could muster, bolstered by a glance at the notes they'd taken earlier that night... or was it day?
After a few moments, and a glance at the notes to refresh her own memory, the Regent gave her own nod. "Exactly." She nodded again, and so did the Overmare. "Not the radiation. We need to heal..." The changeling paused in what might have been an attempt to build dramatic tension, but was probably an attempt not to fall asleep facedown in her mug. Which was now empty. "We need to heal the real poison..." Why was her mug empty?
"Hate!" The Overmare unsteadily raised her own mug to emphasise the word, and was a little confused by how there was no sloshing of tea in it. Tea was meant to slosh. "We need to heal the hate..."
"Exactly!" The Regent proclaimed proudly, if rather unsteadily. "The Queen Herself told us that hate is a poison! She told us to heal the poison! We will... we will..."
Clunk. Clunk.
Two equines slumped over, empty mugs rolling away as their owners started to snore.
The door hissed open.
Two near-identical equine faces popped around into the opening, followed by near-identical bodies, each carrying enough bedding to cocoon their respective leaders into cosy bundles of restfulness. Then, their work done, the pair trotted proudly, but quietly, from the office, leaving behind two snug-as-a-bug leaders and a plate of their namesake treats.
They might have felt a little guilt at slipping sleeping aids into the tea, but having the Overmare and Regent working for two days straight was bad for Morale, and for the pair of young saboteurs, Morale was no laughing matter.
Clunk.
Merry May's ear twitched, tracking two sets of hoofsteps around the room. Her head would have made for a better tracker, but it was currently buried under a mess of warm, happy-smelling blankets. One set of steps, heavy, solid, reassuring, but definitely slow and in need of coffee. The other, quicker and lighter, but punctuated by a heavier, more dull-sounding thud. More of a clunk, really. A low murmur of conversation between the two. They were good sounds. Familiar sounds. Happy sounds. Reassuring sounds that tickled the primitive pegasus parts of her hindbrain and said 'The Nest is Safe'.
Merry found her body growing warm, the scents and sounds of her herd's quarters, her Nest, stirring her instincts and sending Protective Pegasus Plans scurrying through her sleepy, happy brain.
Warm, strong and fuzzy was first, muzzle questing into the nest of blankets and pillows, searching for something soft to kiss and being rewarded for the effort.
Cool, tough and sharp was next, fierce fangs finding a messy mane to groom, part of the morning ritual they'd all developed.
The first was captured by a set of forelegs and pulled to a pillowy fate, the second found itself ensnared by a pair of fluffy wings and drawn in for a well-deserved, and very filling, breakfast.
As freshly-donned barding was pulled away and discarded by the insistently affectionate pegasus, Ironside and Damsel had a quite a few similar thoughts running through their heads. The one thing neither thought of, or even particuarly cared about at that moment, was that they were going to be very late for their morning patrol.
Holly took a deep breath and, slowly, opened her eyes. It wasn't that bad. Honest. The outcropping on the wall surrounding the surface town was the highest she'd ever been, sure, and maybe the sunlight that made it through clouds stung her eyes a bit, but she was completely fine. Honest!
She absolutely, positively, wasn't freaking out. Nope. Not at all.
The young pegasus looked over the edge of the smooth perching ledge, down at the town below, fully aware of her partner beside her. Lorikeet kept one hoof on Holly's back as she looked straight down, reassuring her while doing his best not to look down. Or up. He fully admitted that, like many of the ponies raised in the Stable, he suffered from vertigo on the surface, even after his long journey into the outside world. Or maybe because of it. The doctors weren't entirely sure which, but they assured him he was getting better.
The horizon wasn't so bad. If he focused on something, he could pretend it was just a really funny looking, out-of-focus wall.
Up and down gave him trouble, though. Mostly up.
Not like Holly, who took another deep breath, her barrel swelling under her partner's hoof, and looked up, straight at the sky. Down was fine, honest. It was just a bit higher than the top level of the Atrium. Even up was okay! It was just a really high ceiling! Really, really, high. With no rock above it. Just nothing up there. At all.
Lorikeet rubbed his partner as she started to poof up, soothing the not-panicking pegasus as she took another deep breath and closed her eyes. Down was done. Up was done. Next was... out.
Holly braced herself and opened her eyes again, looking out over the wall and into the endless void of the horizon that had no walls or stalls it just went on and on and on and-
The pretty pegasus realised she wan't as fine as she'd thought. She also realised she wasn't atop the wall anymore, instead having been moved to a lower platform. She gave Lorikeet a sheepish grin, suddenly glad he'd thought ahead... even if the same thing had happened every time they'd gone topside.
Still, Holly felt much better with reassuring stone at her back, and the wall on all sides blocking her eyes from seeing the Forever. It was almost like being in the Atrium... just bigger. She closed her eyes again, taking slow, deep, calming breaths, just like the doctors had taught her, Lorikeet, and all the other young ponies, both flutter and fluffy.
The town was safe. She couldn't fall into the sky. The walls weren't as far away as they looked. Nothing was going to try to eat her. Everything was perfectly safe.
Holly was startled from her thoughts by something being set down beside her. Opening her eyes, she saw that Lorikeet had pulled out a picnic basket and was filling a battered tin mug with what smelled like applejuice. Her nose told her that he'd already poured her one, and that's what had been put beside her. Giving her partner a sincere and thankful smile, and getting a reassuring one in return, she moved to grab the mug.
...
Only for her hoof to knock it over, the mug rolling towards the edge of the platform as they both watched, oddly fascinated as it teetered on the brink before vanishing.
Blushing, Holly ruffled her feathers and gave Lorikeet a sheepish grin. "Oops." From far below, there was the sounds of cursing as somepony was treated to a sudden shower of juice.
As Holly's blush deepened, Lorikeet rolled his eyes and passed her his mug instead, a long-suffering smile crossing his face.
Their hooves met and Lorikeet felt his own face grow warm as they lingered there, momentarily forgetting both the mug they were holding and the one they'd just lost. Two sets of wings twitched, one iridescent and sparkly, the other soft and fluffy, trying to cool their owners bodies as the weak sunlight did its best to warm them.
Clunk.
From far below, the sounds of cursing, renewed by the dropped mug rejoining its lost contents, set them both giggling, the odd momentary awkwardness all-but forgotten as they continued their picnic in the soft warmth of the spring sunlight.