Mist found a post-it note on her hat when she woke up that morning, the message written in the sharp letters of Right's penmanship.
Reg's taking a day off, he's your responsibility.
-RHM
Mist pulled the note off her hat and placed it on the shelf on top of the pile of post-it notes from her hazing and began her morning routine. With her fur brushed, mane tied up, and glasses perched on her muzzle, the mare gave her wings a quick look. Seeing, and feeling a few feathers out of place, Mist sat down on her bed, looking over her glasses to better see the telltale signs of loose and crooked plumage. What she couldn't see, she felt with the tip of her nose, the sensitive cartilage able to detect the differences between each individual feather. She pried loose ones out, and corrected others with the feathered fingers of her other wing.
It was a slow, yet calming task, and the mare didn't notice Right entering her room until she heard footsteps approach the bed. She looked up, trailing behind the second-in-command was Reginald, but the Toppat Chief was without his necklace or signature hats and looking like he didn't quite know what to do with himself.
"You're in charge of 'im for the day. Do what you like, jus' keep 'im out of trouble." Right instructed and left the room.
Mist looked at her temporarily dethroned boss and scooted over to one side of the bed. "Take a seat, I'll be done in a bit."
She resumed preening and felt the matress dip as Reginald sat down.
"I apologize if I'm interrupting something," Reginald said. "I can wait out in the hall if you like."
"I'm just preening, no different than brushing my mane or tail," she replied absentmindedly as she switched wings. "I'm nearly done."
"What's on the agenda for today?" Reginald asked.
Mist nosed over her wing, pulling out a loose feather and letting it fall to the floor as she answered. "Was gonna do a bit of flying, stop by the ice skating rink in Manehatten, hobbies where I could use my talent discretely."
"Ice skating?"
Mist paused and nodded, fond memories rising to the forefront. "I used to train by subtly sensing wind, and carefully nudging it to act as an invisible stabilizer while I skate. Helped me overcome my terrible balance too," she resumed preening. "It was fun, freeing like flying was, and I didn't get in trouble for it."
She glanced over at Reginald to see his brow furrow in confusion. "You weren't allowed to fly?"
"Nope, grandparents were unicorns and made me walk everywhere," she replied casually. "So skating was the next best thing."
A lull in the conversation allowed the pegasus to focus entirely on preening, in a few minutes she folded her wings closed, got off her bed, and walked around to rumage through the drawers at the foot of the bed. She retrieved an old, yet well cared for faux leather jacket and put it on, slipping her wings through almost invisible gaps in the back.
"Now, I know I've got it here somewhere..." she thought aloud, digging through the contents of the jacket's pockets and dumping a plethora of items onto the end of the bed.
She didn't pay it any mind until Reginald spoke up.
"Is that a solid gold screwdriver?" he asked, grabbing the item in question.
"Gold is a magic conductor," she explained, walking over, grabbing the screwdriver in a wing and channeling her magic through it. It hummed and gave off a gray, mist-like magical aura that faded as she handed it back to him to inspect. "Never know when you need to put up a cabinet, or resonate concrete."
She grinned as she found what she was looking for, a small gold badge with a strange rune on it. She tossed it to Reginald. "Here, that's a Change Form Badge, wear it, want it to work, and poof, you're a whole nother species. That one's keyed to turn the wearer into a Grimalkin, a cat person from the kingdom of Ding Dong Dell," she explained. "I use it whenever I need to do business in areas that aren't welcoming to ponies."
"I see, can you get more of these?" Reginald asked.
"They're illegal goods since they're made by faeries, but yeah. I can get more," Mist said casually. "Put it on when we leave the ship, you'll be able to walk around without issue once you activate it."
Her temporarily-not-her-boss pinned the badge to his vest, awed by the trinket. "Fascinating..."
Mist rolled her wings, various aches and pains making themselves known in her neck, shoulder, and wings as she moved about. "I'm gonna go have breakfast." she announced and Reginald followed her to the ship cafeteria.
As she got her medication out from a cabinet in the kitchen, she heard Reginald walk up beside her.
"What is all this exactly?" he asked and she looked over him. He appeared to be genuinely curious.
As she explained, she pointeted to each box. "Painkillers, something to lower stomach acid, something to help with bowel movement, and a couple of things to manage sinus headaches," she set the boxes on a counter, walked over to the fridge and pulled out a water bottle with her name on it. "Headaches aren't much of a problem, it's mostly the wing and back pain I have to deal with, and the reflux medication is mostly precautionary at this point but minor bouts do happen."
"Has your chest pain improved?" Reginald asked. "I've noticed you have more energy these days."
"Yeah, turns out my old painkillers had a side effect of chest pain, these ones are better for me." Mist said.
The two of them fell into a comfortable silence as Mist took her morning medication and wrote down the time in a small notebook she kept in her jacket pocket. With a plate of carrot cake held in her wings, she joined Reginald at a table.
"Anything you wanna do today?" she asked as they ate.
Her fellow Toppat hummed in thought, putting down a piece of toast. "...I don't know, I haven't had a day off in quite some time..."
"You got any hobbies?" she asked, her fork sticking out of her slice of cake.
"A few, nothing out of the ordinary," Reginald admitted. "I'd draw, play piano or violin, do a bit of tinkering..."
"That's impressive!" Mist replied earnestly.
He looked surprised. "You really think so?"
"Are you kidding? That's really neat, I can't do any of that, so it's amazing seeing what other people can do," she said. "If I'm not flying or skating, I'm usually listening to the radio, or doing little tricks and stuff with my magic. Used to sneak into places for fun too."
"Well there's an idea, why don't we go on a heist? Just the two of us?" Reginald suggested. "I haven't done anything out in the field in months."
"...Are you sure that's a good idea?" she asked after a moment.
"It won't be anything major, we pick a target somewhere in the city, scope it out and take whatever we want from it back to the ship, should be a fine way to pass the time." Reginald reasoned.
Mist took a second to think about it.
"No."
"But-"
"No, I wanna spend the next seven days trying to relax, I've got the ball coming up and I'm trying not to worry about it." she stated and Reginald looked at her sympathetically.
"High society events are certainly stressful, I remember the dinners my parents forced me to attend as a child, the empty platitudes and brownnosing can get to you after a while," Reginald said. "It's why I don't host such functions myself, a room of rich, lying narcissists are not people I like to associate with."
Mist mad a noise in agreement. "I'd be dragged to parties and dinners all the time by my grandmother, the mare was a social butterfly, and I'd be bored out of my mind if there wasn't an orchestra I could listen to," she smirked. "Course, Lord Sombra seems to be under the impression that there's a difference between Mist Veil and Lillian Meadows, there's not. I plan on rocking up in a set of gold horseshoes, wing bracelets and this jacket, Lillian doesn't do dresses."
Reginald snickered. "I'm not sure that's a wise idea."
"Well if I can't be myself, then what's the point of it all? I told him all I wanted to do was live my life free of my condition!" she argued.
"You know..." Reginald began with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "If you really want to make a statement, why don't we surpass their expectations?"
She blinked, metaphorical gears turning. "...I know proper etiquette for the various royals and nobles that will be there, the issue would be attire and presentation as both take after international customs, ugh, I'd need a "date" for the damn thing too..." she sighed. "Breakfast first, noblemare nonsense after."
Sometime later they finished eating, Mist downing a glass of apple juice and chewing on a tablet after demolishing her cake. Their plates were pushed off to the side as Reginald withdrew a notebook and pen from the inside of his vest.
"You mentioned needing a date?" he asked and Mist nodded.
"Bit of a global custom, public or highly anticipated gatherings are often used by guests to scope out potential partners or flings, a female attending alone is fair game," she explained. "I can't really recognize flirting and that sort of interest for what it is, it goes over my head. So, I'd prefer to avoid those sorts of situations and have someone be there to act as a deterrent."
"Is it really that much of an issue?" Reginald asked curiously.
She shrugged. "For all I know, I could just be paranoid, I really don't want to screw this up."
"A fair point," he conceded. "What about attire?"
"I don't feel comfortable with more feminine clothing, it's basically an admission of weakness from a certain standpoint..." Mist admitted and gestured to her jacket. "Wearing this is the only time I feel confident in my appearance, the only time I can rightfully say I feel pretty."
She could practically see the gears turning in his head after the revelation. "Not to worry, we can work with that..." Reginald paused. "What about your intolerance? Will you be alright?"
"Ponyfeathers, I completely forgot about that..." Mist groaned. "Bringing my own food would be a social death sentence..."
The duo were kicked out of the airship by am exasperated Right Hand Man not half an hour later, with strict orders to avoid work for the rest of the day.
Thus, Reginald was wandering around the streets of Manehatten as a cat person, following Mist as she walked with a level of self-assurance he'd never seen from her before. The heightened senses and differences in body language, as natural as breathing, was a novel experience. Though it paled in comparison to his ever fascinating observations about the pegasus before him. Reginald was a people person, he knew every member of the Toppat Clan by name, knew where they worked best, who they got along with, and it was that careful balance of authority and approachability that he took pride in as leader.
With said balance thrown out the window, he was just another clan member, and Mist, technically, was his superior. There was a calm air about her as she walked, mindful of his own longer stride. He realized bitterly that this would only last until tomorrow. He wondered if she was like this around Right or the crew? So full of quiet appreciation for something as simple as a day out that it was as if the rundown, doll-like mare he'd first seen her as was another person entirely.
Mist had apparently decided against her plans for the day and instead was content simply showing him around the city. It was at a slow, meandering pace as one thing or another caught their attention, or they had to find a bench because both of them really were out of shape and definitely not used to this level of physical activity. It was during one of their breaks that the conversation turned to the differences between ponies and humans.
It devolved into Mist ranting and Reginald was highly amused by it. Mist was adorable when fired up.
"All I'm saying is, I suck arse at being a normal pony," Mist said animatedly, gesturing at passersby. "You grow up having it beaten into your head that you should be expressive, emotive! My normal tone of voice has been called rude!"
She sighed, leaning against the back of the bench. "All because most of the time, I don't put much emotion into my words, and I'm worried that is what's going to screw me over at the ball, that people will take offense and then I'll be up shit creek without a paddle."
Reginald made a noise in sympathy, he could see the way talking both caused her stressed and lifted a weight off her shoulders. It was insightful for him, he could extrapolate how pony society worked based off of how Mist didn't fit into it. Even if the information was heavily biased, it was... Nice, touching even, to know she trusted him enough to share even these grievances with him.
"It's why I like being in the clan," Mist said, looking over at him. "Aside from the obvious stuff like don't treat me like an animal or pet, I can get away with not expressing myself the way pony society demands me to, I can have my bad days in peace and quiet, everyone knows I'd never be intentionally rude. I can swear and the crew pick up on why I do and how I go about it. No one expects me to be social... It's nice that I can live on my own terms."
"Humans are social creatures," Reginald commented. "Not quite to the extent ponies are, but everyone in the clan has at least one person they get along with... I'm grateful you've been able to form such a strong friendship with my Right Hand Man, it's just been the two of us for as long as I can remember..."
Mist shrugged. "We talk if we feel like it, stay quiet if we don't. There's no need to fill the silence when hanging out and we have a few things in common that talking is just easy. Doesn't matter if I'm a complete dumbarse making mountains out of molehills or if he's worried you'll work yourself to death, we support each other."
Reginald blinked in surprise, sitting a bit straighter. "He's that concerned about me?"
Mist looked sheepish. "...You kinda scared both of us a few days ago, constantly nodding off in the middle of doing paperwork..."
Goodness, they were that concerned? Reginald thought. It wasn't the first time he'd worked throughout the night. "A lack of sleep is something I'm more than used to."
Mist appeared to be frustrated, and more than a fair bit worried as she sighed. "I'm worried you'll fall over or something one day and hurt yourself... I can't help but worry when you get that tired!"
Well, at least he knew why Right had put Mist in charge of him for the day, she wouldn't have voiced her opinion otherwise. He briefly wondered if his second-in-command had coaxed her to be this open with him. Given how Right could get when it came to Reginald's well-being, he wouldn't put it past Right to have this whole day set up to get him to actually look after himself.
It pained him to learm he was making his best friend and his newest friend worry about him so much. "I had no idea! Why didn't either of you tell me?"
Mist looked at him like the answer was obvious. "Right's been telling you. You just brush him off! And I'm a rutting coward with a less than healthy fear of disappointing authority figures! Of course I'd keep my mouth shut."
Reginald was stunned. "You're afraid of disappointing me?" he asked incredulously. "After everything you've done for the clan?"
"It's just how I am, I can't help it," Mist tried to explain. "I just... don't want to be a bother, don't want to get in trouble," she ran a wing through her mane, irritated with herself. "I'm a grown arse mare and I sound like a filly, Stars I suck..."
He was at a loss for what to say, she sounded so absolutely done, her explanation more a tired reminder as opposed to an attempt to communicate. And yet, he was restless, the need to say something was driving him mad. He fidgeted with his gloves, already missing the weight of his necklace, the feel of the gold chain in his hands. Instead, he picked at and adjusted his gloves. "I-It's alright, I don't mind at all. Everyone is different."
"I know..." she grumbled. "Still don't like it..."
"Anything I can do to help?" Reginald asked. "I thought you wanted to relax?"
Mist huffed. "I'm no better at this than you Sir, I can't stop worrying without something else to focus on, something to do."
Reginald thought for a moment, an idea popped into his head, and he sprung up from his seat. "Well, if you want something to do, I have an idea!"
Right had been informed that Reginald was up to something in the cargo bay, and the man had dragged a few of the clan into his scheme. He walked into the bay, intent on scolding his friend. He paused as he took in the sight before him.
From his elevated position by the door, Right could see over two dozen Toppats had formed a ring around Reginald and Mist Veil. The mare sported a leather jacket and both of them wielded weapons. Reginald used his sword with the elegance of a king as Mist stepped around his swing as light as feather, parrying the blow with the polearm held in her wings.
Right watched the sparring match with a critical eye, it had a long time since he'd seen Reginald use a weapon other than a firearm, the two of were a bit rusty, their movements a bit stilted, but their skill was on full display as they grew more confident, more at ease with the low stakes match. The gathered crowd was watching silently, just as captivated by it as he was as the awkward exchange of blows evolved into a dance of precision strikes, blocks, and near misses.
The duel ended suddenly, weapons clashing a final time as both participants stepped back, breathing heavily from exertion. They handed their weapons off to the crew and lazily strolled off.
Right followed them. "You two done messin' 'bout?" he drawled as he met them in a hallway.
Reginald rolled his eyes. "Yes, we're going to have lunch and spend the afternoon in the archives."
"No workin', either of you." Right stressed.
"It's not work if we enjoy it, right Mist?" Reginald replied and the mare nodded.
Right sighed.