//------------------------------// // Wake up and smell the Roses. // Story: Cutie Mark Camp Blues // by Moonbeam Thought Writes //------------------------------// To: High Soprano of The Royal Court, and Co-Founder of The Crusader Magazine Re: Site 001: Everfree Sweetie Belle, Thanks for all your concern. I agree that we should set up a meeting between the three of us, and, taking your suggestion, I’ve tried to get back in contact with Gabby. I still see Babs on the regular, and she wants you to know that she loves The Crusader. Anyways, when do you want to meet and discuss things? If you can get Scootaloo to come, that would be great. I won’t put any details into this letter, in case this is somehow being monitored. Thanks, Applebloom Three weeks before Bright Steam stood in the middle of his bedroom, contemplating. It was technically the ‘Staff Bedroom Of The Oak Cabin’ but to him, it was his bedroom. Yes, it was only for two weeks, but he’d never liked how temporary and estranged ‘Staff Bedroom Of The Oak Cabin’ sounded. Everycreature else called their bedrooms that. He didn’t get why. It wasn’t forever, yes, but for now, it was his room. His master bedroom with an ensuite bathroom! Even if it was a small, cheaply furnished bedroom, and a tiny, boring bathroom. The sun came piercing through the thick curtains, warm yellow rays pouring out of the gap where the two heavy yellow drapes met over the window. Dawn already? Twilight’s spectacular orb rising steadily over the horizon was something Bright woke up early for. Each and every day. Pushing open one curtain with his left wing, he still recalled a time when it wasn’t Twilight’s sun, but Celestia’s. That had been what… fifteen years ago now? Time moved so slowly sometimes. Like everyone and everything was underwater. A beautiful, picturesque scene awaited him from beyond the window. The snow covering the ground was pristine and powdery, the sun providing a glowing line of gold just along the horizon. The horizon Bright could see from beyond the Everfree, anyway. A glorious sky of eggshell blues, golden yellows, and rosy pinks dotted with white cotton-candy clouds. It was just asking for an early-morning soar through the atmosphere. And the sun! That shining disc of blazing gold slipping sublimely above the edge of Equus was truly Celestia’s gift to all the creatures that walked across the world. The moon, though a silvery out-of-this-reality spectacle, it paled in juxtaposition to the dazzlement of the sun. Speaking of the moon, it would be the Winter Moon Festival next week. Foggy Bramble usually took that week off. All the Group Leaders knew exactly why. Crimson Thorn hated Foggy, and hated that she wasn’t going to be away next week, like usual. Granted, Crimson Thorn hated Foggy Bramble no matter what she did. On another note, the activities Bright Stream had planned for today would be great! He’d always enjoyed kayaking, and poetry had it’s roots in earning a great number of cutie marks over the years. Not to mention the bushwalking and spelunking for after lunch! The first day was always the most fun. Breathing in the slightly dusty air of the room around him, he smiled. Every day with nocreature hurt or sick, or any other incidents was more than a good day for him. I rose groggily out of sleep and into the world of the waking. The sun was scintillating and warm. Low murmurs spilled out throughout the dorm, reminders of the others whom I shared this space with. Other cutie mark-less, destiny-less beings, same as me, waking up in the morning and going about their day, just like me. Vig was probably in the Mahogany Cabin, waking up just the same as me, to the same dawn, and the same sun. My friends back at Seaward Shoals were probably doing the same. A hoofful of pegasi, earth ponies, unicorns, a kirin, a changeling, and a hippogriff all connected to their one friend, thousands of kilometres away, by the same rising sun. It was a comforting thought. Of the kind that only occur when your mind is still asleep, and yet awake; alive from the world of slumber. For a time, the world was perfectly, glowingly simple. It was nice. And then a bell ripped the enamouring silence wide open. It was time for breakfast. I groaned and rolled over onto my side. The sunlight was too bright, the bell too loud. Waking up was hard when you weren’t drowsy enough to enjoy it. And so I opened my eyes wide open, and sat straight up. Camp called, and who was I to deny it. I slowly dragged myself out of bed, setting my two front hooves down on the chilly floorboards, and immediately regretting it, yanking them back into the warm covers. The bell rang again, a reminder to get up and out into the world. Steeling myself, I tried again, clenching my jaw as I placed my hooves back down on the bitterly cold birch wood. I stepped forward, pulling my back half along with me, and out into the frosty dorm. I took a few minutes to stretch, before sliding one of my suitcases out from under the bed, zipping it open and rooting around for a bit, before finding the pair of fluffy winter boots I had packed. I carefully slipped them on, strapping on the Velcro with my teeth. There. Now the floor wasn’t so cold. The air still bit at my skin, though, and I quickly wrapped a scarf around my neck. It was dark blue with navy and gloomy purple accents, matching my eyes. I zipped the suitcase shut again, and pushed it back under the bed. The bell tore out through the cabin again. Last call for breakfast. At this point, only a few stragglers remained. I pitied the poor soul who missed the most important meal of the day. I quickly made my way out the door, hooves sinking into the icy snow. Soft snowflakes drifted down onto my coat, melting into crisp drops of cool water the moment they hit me. I inhaled, the clear air was icy-cold, and my breath came out in puffs of vapour. I trudged through the snow to the lunch hall, a long building made of mismatched wood and resembling a log cabin, though only if you looked from a distance. And squinted. Stepping into the hall, it was a chaotic space filled with laughter, loud chatter and a general cloud of that contented feeling you get from a long night of sleep blanketing the hall. “Hey! Moonbeam! Over here!” I looked to the breakfast line, where Vig stood, waving to me. I trotted up to her, hoping she’d let me jump in the line with her. It was getting pretty long, and she was nice and close to the front. Vig was wearing a dusty-peach coloured cardigan, and a set of black leg warmers. It was kinda retro. It looked good on her. As I moved closer, she paced to the side a little, making room for me. “Morning, stranger” I muttered, stepping in next to her. “Morning yourself.” “Sleep well?” I asked. “Yeah, no. I think my Group Leader’s a Vampony” she replied. I looked sideways at Vig. Her eyes were wide and she wasn’t smiling. She must have been serious. We moved up a space in line. “Well… does she have pointy teeth?” I inquired. “Yes. At least I think so.” I nearly laughed. Everypony knew that Vamponies existed, the Supernatural Being Equality Act made that clear. But nopony really thinks they’ll ever meet one. It’s like alicorns. You know they exist. Everypony knows they exist. But you’ll probably go your whole life without ever even glimpsing one. “Ok. Then Crimson Thorn’s a Vampony. What about it?” The two of us moved up another space in line. “What? You aren’t going to protest this bold accusation?” It sounded like she was trying to be funny, but came off as incredulous. “Well. For the record, I’ve always believed in the supernatural. The paranormal. The extraterrestrial. Even before the Supernatural Being Equality Act.” I answered. We moved up another space in line. The serving counter was only a few metres away. Poached egg and buttered toast. It smelled delectable. “Wait, so you actually believed all that stuff? Before the SBEA? What about before the RFSB?” “What, the Registry For Supernatural Beings? I didn’t even know about that until the SBEA went public.” I countered. Granted, almost nopony knew about, or believed that Vamponies, Werewolves, Ghouls, Batponies, Accursed Bloodlines or any of them even existed before Twilight legislated the SBEA five years ago. Rumour said she did it for a friend. But then again, rumours also said that the real Twilight died during the Storm King’s takeover of Canterlot, and that the current one was just Celestia in a costume. “And you believed even before that? Let me guess, Lichs are real too. And all those nasty monsters from Ogres and Oubliettes” “Hold up- you play O&O too?” “Nope. I just know what it’s about. Nerd.” We shuffled still forward in the line. We were just a space away from breakfast. “Hey! I’m not a nerd” I riposted. “Heh. You totally are.” “Ugh you’re no fun. And how do you know what a Lich is if you’ve never played?” “I had a friend that played. A lot.” Her voice sounded flat. Sad, even. “Had?” I asked. “We… uhhhh… well- my mother- I- we’re not friends anymore, him and me. I don’t want to talk about it” she stuttered. “Ok. If you don’t want to talk, I won’t make you.” We stepped forward in the line again. I grabbed a plate in my teeth. Steaming hot poached eggs, beautifully melted butter on warm toast, topped with a sprig of alfalfa. I inhaled deeply, it was heavenly. We walked away from the serving counter. Cobblestone was sitting at one of the benches in the middle of the room. He waved to us. I waved back with one wing, and started heading in his direction. Vig paused for a second, before walking after me. I looked back at her for that split second she hesitated, before she smiled and treaded on. “What took you so long? I’ve been waiting here since the first bell!” I raised my eyebrows at him. “Fiiiiiiiine. Since the third bell.” he laughed. I took a seat on the bench across from him, Vig grabbing one next to me. His plate had evidently sat long empty, only the sprig of alfalfa and the dregs of orange juice in his cup remaining. Between bites of food, the three of us chatted; about the weather, the Winter Moon Festival, the activities we wanted to do, and the night we had had. Vig was quieter than usual, but still joined in where she could. It was nice. Like an ordinary school camp, with ponies I hadn’t met before then, but just like an ordinary school camp nonetheless. Sauvignon Glamour sat in the lunch hall. It was some time after breakfast, but sometime before lunch. Moonbeam Thought sat across from her, fiddling with a pencil and some paper. Poetry. That was what the two of them were trying to accomplish, sitting in the hall, watching snowflakes drift lazily past outside, and generally feeling very… unpoetic. Vig’s own paper was empty, the pencil lying lifelessly on the bench beside it. Bright Stream was walking around the hall, checking on the progress of the other poor souls who had volunteered to do poetry. Cobblestone wasn’t there, having chosen to try for a mark in fire magic, out in the snow with Crimson Thorn and the other horned beings. He was certain would be able to gain a cutie mark at this camp, despite Vig’s quiet musings on whether he even could, being a half-dragon and all. She looked over at Moonbeam’s paper, which actually had words on it. More than Vig could say for her own. Poetry was definitely not going to be in her future. And from the looks of the words on their paper, it probably wasn’t going to be in Moonbeam’s either. She had rhymed bread with meet, for Twilight’s sake! “Hello campers! What dazzling poetry have we written so far?” Oh dear. Bright Stream. “Good, good. Moonbeam Thought, this is…lovely poetry. Sauvignon Glamour, let’s see what you’ve… ah. I see. Maybe give it a try? I’m sure you’ll be great at it!” He commented. She slumped forward onto the table with a huff. “No. I’m not even going to try.” “Aww, come on… for me?” “I can feel that this isn’t the one for me. So don’t mind if I rest my eyes for a bit” she grumbled. She could hear Bright Stream sigh and walk off. It would be better without him there, anyway. “Hey Vig?” She cracked open one eye. Just Moonbeam. “Yeah?” “So you know how you think Group Leader Crimson’s a Vampony?” “Mm.” “I think Foggy Bramble’s one too.” “Why? Whose blood did she suck?” She joked. “Well… nopony that I know of. But she’s got these little tiny fangs. And she told me not to go out at night. Super creepy.” “Ok, so she’s got these weird teeth. Maybe her dentist stuffed up. The creepiest. I don’t think she’s a Vampony, Moonbeam.” She countered. “Hey, you got to tell me about your spooky Group Leader, why don’t I get to fly my theory?” “Because I’m sleeeeeeeeping, silly.” She shut her eye again, and made fake snoring sounds. “Well. When you wake up, I’ll be waiting right here to tell you all about my spooky Group Leader.” “Ugh, fine, I give up” she groused. “Sweet Twilight this is just too easy!” Vig muttered darkly, before pushing herself up off the bench. Somepony was reciting their poem at the front of the hall. It was good, but evidently not good enough to earn a mark, as seen by the empty space on their flank. When they were finished, Bright Stream clapped, and a few others half heartedly joined in. Somepony was asleep on the bench in the far left, and two others were bickering quietly in a corner. No cutie marks, no brilliant flashes of light, no magical force lifting anypony into the air. There were no complaints when Bright Stream declared it was time to move on to the next activity. Poetry was a bust. Lunch. The delicious meal that divided the day in half. It was at least half an hour til then. Sage Mercy wished it was less. But even then, she probably wouldn’t get a lunch break. Not while she was tending to the poor colt who had fallen in the lake. Thank Twilight he hadn’t caught hypothermia, and thank her doubly that Bright Stream had been quick to dive in after him. But, unfortunately, he had fallen in the specific part of the lake sectioned off for everypony’s benefit. And the leeches. That was definitely why it was sectioned off. And so, while the poor soul had the fortune of not catching hypothermia, he had had the misfortune of leeches. Lots of them. And so Sage, being the camp nurse, was going to miss her lunch break getting the leeches off him. “So, what’d you say your name was again?” And he was talkative. Sweet Twilight was he talkative. “I’m Sage Mercy, sugar. And I don’t think you gave me yours?” “Oh yeah. I am the especially and mightily powerful Cobblestone!” “… I see. Did you at least get your cutie mark?” He sighed, a tad melodramatically if Sage was being honest, and flung a hoof to his forehead. “Tragically, no. It was terrible!” “Oh, I’m sorry sugar. Maybe when you’re all healed up you’ll get a nice one, like mine!” She grinned and turned to show off her cutie mark, a golden staff with wings and two snakes twined around it, silhouetted against a black flame-shaped shadow. The story behind it wasn’t the prettiest. “Nice. How’d you earn it?” She sighed. It was going to be a while before lunch. Three weeks after Applebloom walked into the room, she wasn’t expecting anything fancy, maybe a few trophies, pink curtains maybe. This was Sweetie Belle after all. The first thing she noticed was the scent. It hit her like a tidal wave. Roses, violets, marigold, and probably every other flower under the sun. And was that a hint of frankincense? Then it was the room. It was just a lounge room, but it was decadent. Sparkly gold curtains, a miniature chandelier, a sweeping set of princess staircases leading to the next room and plush cherry-blossom coloured carpet blanketing the floor. “Welcome to my abode, Applebloom!” “Wow. It’s been a while since I’ve been to your house but, wow. Ya sure do know how to decorate!” “Actually, most of this was done by Diamond. She’s really got an eye for design!” She gestured at the room, grinning “Yeah, how is your marriage, like, so far? Didn’t ya honeymoon in prance?” Sweetie smiled, a blush quickly spreading across her cheeks. “It’s- it’s nice, yeah. Prance was beautiful” she squeaked Applebloom laughed. “Ok, quit it! Let’s sit down and discuss your little incident. Sorry I couldn’t get Scootaloo to come. You know how Honey Tongue is.” Applebloom chuckled dryly. “Do I ever!”