//------------------------------// // Social Ungraces // Story: House that Heartbreak Rebuilt // by Jet_Black1980 //------------------------------// Chapter 26 Social Ungraces I feel like we haven’t even spent even a full five minutes in the Hoofington Hotel before we are on the move again. I asked that Spike help me with my saddlebags and Rarity said that we wouldn’t need them and that they were perfectly safe in the hotel. I told her that I was hesitant in just leaving the only real possessions that I had in the whole of Equestria in a hotel room. She rolled her eyes and realized that we didn’t have time to argue. So, victory goes to me. Well, this little ‘victory’ thing goes to me... I guess. As we walk, Rarity is yapping away about something I couldn’t care less about: The histories of the Twin Cities and how they were founded. Most all of it I already know due to the fact that it is nearly identical to that of the real Twin Cities. Even this, ‘Steel Pole,’ character that Rarity says that, St. Pole is named after sounds like whoever the fuck it was that founded St. Paul. Then she touches briefly on the technological boom they experienced when the Crystal Empire came back. Wait, that part does sound interesting. I idly wonder what exactly can be done with crystals as far as tech goes. Can they work like basic electronics? I know that they can store magical charges and images... Could it be possible to create a simple transistor with them? Can you actually grow circuits? Hmmm... I look left and right down the line. “Sooo, where’s the train?” Off in the distance I see an odd thing that I’m not sure how to describe. It looks like a pulsating circle of rainbows that is growing bigger and bigger as it draws ever closer. Then suddenly, the whole thing seems to stop like a ship coming out of warp speed, with the rainbow effect wearing off. “Gah!” I jump back in surprise and a bit of shock. Good fucking Gaia! I can feel my heart practically pounding in my chest now. Thank you very much strange rainbow coloured train! I didn’t expect that! Then again? This is Equestria. Land where everything is made of rainbows, pony farts and glitter. “Oh, there it is.” “Do mind the curb, darling,” Rarity said, raising an eyebrow. “So, before we arrive at the party, I do think that it might behoove you to know some of the important names that are going to be-” “Yeah, thanks for asking if I’m ok, Rarity. I’m sure that this thing is an everyday occurrence for you, but I’m pretty sure that you forgot that I come from a world without magic. Then again? You might be attempting to maintain the illusion. If that’s the case... I’m a fucking bitch... NO! Stop it! Stop monologuing and talking down to yourself already!” Looking up, the train looks pretty much like the lightrail train back home, save for the fact that it came warping in looking like a rainbow coloured comet. The wide windows show a good number of ponies and other creatures leaving their seats and heading out the doors. As we sit down, Rarity continues to talk. Really, I might be seeming like a sourpuss about this, but I have a serious lack of care for those ponies that I am not going to be interacting with a lot! And when I don’t care? I tend to forget names. “Then again, I might remember them better due to the fact that I’ll have a name, cutie mark and some colours. Almost no two ponies are alike after all...” Everything seems so fucking forced here. This party, the talk with M, Rarity’s insistent want to have me prettied up, even getting this house feels a bit wrong on some level. Sitting down I mull over the serious of events that has led up to this. Each one seeming to have either taken too long or been ultimately pointless. Especially that conversation with the bellhop. Ugh, it felt like the only reason we had that conversation was to highlight the fact that the ponies here in Whinneapolis sound like they are from Minnesota. With the, ‘Oh yeahs,’ and ‘You bet’chas’ and the ‘Minnesota Nice.’ That, ‘Minnesota Nice,’ was one of the reasons that I kind of stayed in Minnesota even after my attempted romance with, 'The Queen.' Fuck, I’m just going to call her, ‘She-who-shall-not-be-named’ fell through- The Train suddenly lights up and takes off with a jarring start and we are on our way. “-and that’s just the minor guests. Now for the important names-” Oh, Fffffffffet. Rarity is still talking... I turn and look at Spike. “Spike, how soon is it going to be before we get to the IDS Tower?” Spike opens a schedule and looks back at me. “It says that it takes about ten minutes.” “That’s not soon enough,” I reply. ============================================================== The room was decked out with the normal decorations that every party like this had. Streamers and ribbons tacked high to the walls with balloons thrown into the mix to make everything seem just a little more friendly and inviting. A table was decked out with various local delicacies and orderves. A punch bowl with a sparkling pink drink was on the far end and a large chocolate cake decorated with small chocolate pony figurines placed upon each teer. Each of the ponies in this party had gathered into their small cliques. There where the entrepreneurs and the tycoons who were talking about the up and coming rising stars and who they thought was going to be the, ‘Newest best thing.’ While most seemed to only be here only because it was a place to be seen, others were talking about the things that were going to be at the auction. Various objects, possessions, or babbles that had been reprocessed by the government as payment for fines or fees, when ponies couldn’t pay their taxes, or things that they just didn’t want anymore. But for four stallions, who had gathered near the middle of the east wall of the room, none of these objects held any interest. While the other ponies here had their eyes keenly set on various prizes up for auction, these four stallions had their eyes on a far different sort of prize. “If you ask me, these parties are just an outright bore, Manifest. Why do you continue to come, let alone invite me?” Prince Blueblood asked, swirling his drink in front of him. “They might be a bore, Blueblood, but at least some of the eye candy is appealing,” a white stallion with a black mane replied, peering at the flank of a passing mare. His head tilted down to peer up her skirt. “Darn, overwear...” “I think the better question is why we allow Smooth Talker in our little club. His overt perversions scare off any chance of having a proper conversation with any potential tags,” a pony with a green shirt and white sweater draped over his shoulder replied. “Why, Jet Set, I was under the impression that you were a married stallion!” Prince Blueblood chuckled, taking a sip off of his glass in the most regal manner possible. “That doesn’t mean that I can’t look at greener pastures upon which I would graze,” Jet Set replied with a wink. “After all, if Upper Crust chatters away with her click about which stallions she would romp with, then why can’t I?” “Just as long as there is a, ‘look but don’t touch’ policy, there Jet?” Smooth Talker said, brushing his black slicked mane back. “You could say that... Though I would rather that none of you make mention of our various tags and marks to my wife’s friends. The last time I didn’t hear the end of it,” Jet replied taking a bite out of a sandwich. “A little trouble in paradise old chap?” Blueblood asked, smirking. Jet Set glared at the Prince and pretended that the comment didn’t bother him. “Go ahead, laugh it up, ‘Old chap,’ the only thing that protects you is your sweet Auntie Celestia.” Just then, three individuals caught his eye as they walked through the door. Well, one individual in particular. Jet Set grinned. “I dare say, Blueblood, is that Lady Rarity?” Blueblood coughed on his drink and turned just in time to see that Rarity indeed had entered the room. He straightened himself out as she passed by, nose in the air. Manifest laughed at the Prince's discomfort. “I see that you’re just as eager to cross paths with her as always, Blueblood.” He took another drink as he watched a small dragon and the most rough looking mare tagging along with Rarity. He did a double take before looking at his drink. The mare’s mane and tail barely looked attended to, her coat only seemed to have the barest of brushings, and not even her fetlocks were trimmed! All of which was a stark contrast compared to the almost regal looking white unicorn that had just walked by. Her only redeeming quality seemed to be her eyes. They almost looked like sparkling blue sapphires. "What ever do you mean? I always look forward to... Lady Rarity's presence..." Blueblood’s nose cringed. “Though perhaps with the company she is keeping these days? I do believe my reaction was acceptable...” Manifest looked at the mare’s flank. “A black broken heart? Whatever does that mean?” ============================================================== Rarity takes almost no time in waltzing into the room like the drama queen that she is. Fuck, I bet all the fetting ponies are looking at us. What I really hope is that they are looking more at her and not me. Looking around the room, I try to play a wonderful little game that I came up with a while back called, 'Spot-the-background-pony.' And you’ve guessed it! The rules are simple enough to follow! First, scan the room! Then see how many background ponies you can recognize! For each one you recognize, you get a point. Extra points for more obscure background characters! Even more points if you can remember their names! Oh hey! I’m able to score twenty points right off the bat! Prince Blueblood and ...uhm... what was his name...Upper Crust? No, that was the wife’s name. Uhm... Jet Set! Yeah! Score! They’re huddled in a small group with two other stallions I don’t recognize. But the moment that Rarity spots them? I can practically hear her snort and humph before raising her nose to the air and moving a bit faster. I don’t blame her. Prince Blueblood was an over all pompous jerk and Jet Set was a shallow kiss-ass. And the way that the other two stallions in the group are looking at us? Yeah. Creepy. Rarity wastes no time in leading us to a small table with a gaggle of mares happily chatting away. She smiles at them and one of them greets her with open arms. “Ooh Raaaarity!” I take note of that harsh Minnesota accent. Seriously, am I going to be hearing that everywhere I go while I’m here? I get it! Ha. Ha. Minnesota! HA-Fucking-HA. Rarity starts to engage in the standard greetings and the two of them kiss at the air on either side of their faces, while I stand awkwardly behind. Hot Dish? Ugh! That name! Great for casserole, terrible for a pony! Kinda reminds me of a flash game I saw on the internet once called, “Stripper or Pony?” Though, it actually kind of fits what she looks like. She has a pasty complexion for a pony, her fur kind of the colour of a cooked cheese based casserole, that, ‘not-quite-yellow-white-ish,’ colour. Her mane looks like curly pasta noodles and is of more, ‘charred-yellow,’ yellow. She’s wearing a blue dress with a blue sun hat. I'm not really paying attention to the two of them as they exchange pleasantries. It's just the whole of that midwestern accent just soaked into my brain. Ugh... I’m just waiting for them to start talking about hockey and pickled herring and anything else linked with Minnesota. I might be harping on this whole thing but fuck! Where they ever this heavy with letting you know something about a region in the show?! No! Stop it! “Well, now, is this here a friend of yours, Rarity?” The question is enough to trigger my senses and wake me from my dazing. Fuck, that means I’ve been spotted. Rarity bites her lip as she looks over me before sitting down. “Well, she’s more of an acquaintance who’s tagged along with me for the auction!,” Gee, thanks marshmallow butt. “H.B. would you like to introduce yourself?” “Hhhhach Bee?” Hot Dish asks, murdering the English language. Fuck, I really don’t want to have a conversation with these random ponies that I don’t know jack about. But. I don’t want to be impolite. Otherwise we’re going to have another, ‘Runaway-Train,’ incidence. “Heartbreak,” I grimace and then force a smile. “But I’d rather be called, ‘H.B.’” “Ooooh! What a sad name there deary,” she says almost tsking. Right, sympathy coming from a pony with the name, ‘Hot Dish.’ That wouldn’t get made fun of back home. Oh, nooooo. Never in a thousand years would it ever get made fun of. Cripes, I feel more sorry for her imagining what it would be like growing up with a name like that. “Ya want’a sit a spell and chew the grass with us? Take a load off yer hooves then, there, now?” “Aaa-actually, I was thinking that I could peruse the food table and sample some of the edibles. So, maybe later,” I reply, pointing my hoof over my shoulder. “Oh...” Hot Dish replies blankly. “Well, do sample the tater tot casserole! I helped the cook make it!” “I’ll be sure to do that!” I reply, fixing in a fake smile as I slowly back away. “It’s got peas and potatoes and carrots in it! All sorts of good things! And tuna, don’tcha know!” She shouts out. “Sounds... delicious!” Ugh! Must. Get. Away. From. Long. Goodbyes! “I’ll be back... don’t worry!” “Put some fluff in your fur!” She calls out as I get even closer to the table. ACK! “I’ll be sure to try it! I swear!” ============================================================== Rarity sighed and shook her head as she watched as Heartbreak slip away. Hot Dish shuddered. “Oh my, the last time I got a shoulder that cold is when Window Frost bumped into me after pushing her carriage from St. Pole back in December, don’tcha know!” She picked up her mug that smelled of hot coco. “Mmm, what’s her story then, there, now Rarity?” “Oh,” Rarity paused. “Well, she’s... foreign.” “Foreign? Really? I swear that she sounded like she was from around here. Or at least lived here long enough. Where about is she from?” “A place called, Minneighsota, she’s an exchange student really! Much like a diplomat of sorts!” Rarity explained. “Oh my!” One of the other mares exclaimed. “She’s a foreign diplomat?” “Where is this, ‘Minneighsota,’ Rarity? I’ve never heard of such a place!” Another inquired. “Well, Uhm, I don’t quite know. She doesn’t like to talk a lot about where she’s from and is something of an...” Rarity began. Hot Dish watched as Heartbreak started to poke at the paper plates on the table. As if she was having trouble with picking them up. It didn’t take her long to grow frustrated and finally grab one with her mouth before glaring at the stack with a heated fury. “An eccentric?” “Yes!” Rarity said nodding. “She’s somewhat of an eccentric artist who’s trying to find her muse as it were.” “Oh my...” Hot Dish looked at Rarity with a bit of sympathy in her eyes. “I am so sorry, Rarity.” Rarity looked confused. “Sorry, whatever do you mean? She’s a bit of a hassle sometimes but nothing I can’t handle!” “That’s not what I mean, there now. What I mean is that when you two first walked in together, I thought that she was just some homeless pony that had followed you in off the street! I mean with the way she looks and a cutie mark like that....” Hot Dish peered over at Heartbreak’s flank. Rarity giggled a bit. “Oh darling, it’s quite alright. H.B. is... special. Though we are actually here to see if we can find her a home in Ponyville. Her arrival and staying with us was something of a surprise you see. It’s almost like she just fell out of the sky!” She looked over to see H.B. attempting to pick a pear off one of the platters with her teeth while it kept falling back down. “Yes, our little Heartbreak is very special. Spike, could you be a dear and help her? After all, you know about her condition.” Spike smiled at Rarity. “But of course!” “Condition?” Hot Dish asked. “Oh yes. You see she has a condition known as, ‘shaky hoof.’ It’s rather difficult to explain, but to summarize it,” Rarity took a drink from a passing waiter, and sipped it down. “She can’t pick things up with her hooves as other ponies do. She tries so hard sometimes to overcome her disability, but...” “Oh, my.” Hot Dish said, covering her mouth. She placed a hoof on Rarity’s shoulder. “Rarity, you have truly changed my view of you. Not only are you an exquisite dress maker with a wonderful sense of fashion, but you are just such a compassionate pony. It really warms my heart to see you helping others like that.” Rarity smiled while biting her lip. “That’s so nice of you to say, Hot Dish...” ============================================================== I glare at the fare on the table as it mocks me. Daring me to attempt to put it on a plater that I can’t hold. I could attempt to pick it up with my lips, but now I am getting funny looks from the thin looking gryphon chef. Plus there’s the point of hygiene. I’m sure that other ponies or creatures here don’t want my mouth germs all over the place. “Would madam care for some assistance?” he says with a nearly forced french accent. He waggles his taloned fingers in preparation to load my plate. I know he’s just doing his job, and he most likely doesn’t mean any offense, but that, ‘madam,’ is just a bit more- “That will not be necessary, my good chef!” Spike says as he swoops in to save the day by snatching my plate. I sigh a little. I rely on him way too much. The griffon quirks an eye and nods before sniffing the air. “Oh mon dieu! Ze petites saucisses smell likes zhey are done!” He walks over to the other side of the table where a small roster of sorts is cooking... sausages? Alright, that has my attention. Almost instantly when he lifts the lid covering them I can feel my mouth start to water and my stomach growls at me. The chef wafts the aroma to his nose and takes a deep breath. It doesn’t take long for that same smell to come my way. I sniff it. It almost smells like actual sausages... The smell is right, but would they actually serve real meat at a party with ponies? Fuck, if that smell gets any stronger? We're going to have an, 'Applefarm,' moment again. Just then I feel Spike’s claw tap on my shoulder. He tilts his head back towards the gossiping gaggle that Rarity has nested in. “Care to explain what that was all about?” I turn and start walking in the direction of the chef. How to answer that question... “I’m just hungry, Spike. Plus, like I’ve explained before: I don’t like parties. Let alone being forced to interact with others that I am sure I don’t have anything in common with...” Spike smacks his face. “And you know that you don’t share anything in common with them after a brief conversation with them.” “I know enough to know that I would be constantly judged and picked apart. Not only that, but they seem to be the type of ponies that like to gossip. And you know how I feel about that.” Spike just rolls his eyes. “So you’re going to give them the cold shoulder just so that you don’t have to interact with them?” I bite my lip. “You’re not going to get on me about, ‘making fffriends,’ too, are you? ‘Cause I’m not Twilight you know. And most likely? I’ll never see any of these p-p-ponies again, Spike.” “That’s no reason to be rude...” Son of a bitch. How the fuck am I going to get out of this conversation? Just then the Chef pops what looks like a little smokey sausage in his mouth. He chews it up and looks thoughtful. “Mmmmm! Magnifique!” He says kissing his fingers. Alright, he sorta kisses them. In the show? Griffons had flexible beaks and teeth. Upon close inspection? That’s sorta true. Sorta. He looks like he has teeth and his beak looks like it flexes a little. But either way it looks weird. “I take it they taste really good-” I ask pausing to look at his name tag. “-Gavril?” “Wei, zhey almost taste like zee real thing. Almost,” he replies. “Almost?” I inquire. “Well... Zey lack a certain... zomesing that real me-” He suddenly quirks and looks at me. The expression on his face is, and I hate to put it like this, but it’s priceless. “Well... it iz... There iz... a certain zavor that ponies cannot truly appreciate...” I quirk a brow. “Would it be something that you’d feed your own fledglings?” He looks back and forth in a confused manner and then back at me. “Something wrong?” “Uhm, non. Iz just zat thiz iz zee longest conversation about ze quality about a-” He coughs. “Meat like product?” I ask looking up at him. Fuck, I don’t even want to know what emotion or expression I’m giving him right now. I just want his... I am not going to finish that thought. Nope! “Not that I would compare a...” Fuck, I hope I don’t sound like a kiss-ass here. “Fine chef’s fares to common street food, but they do have hot dogs right? I would hope that they would at least try to taste something like the real thing.” He’s still looking at me with a confused expression. A confused and worried expression actually. “Well, common hot-dogs do not have ze same flavor as what I have cooked, despite being made of soy beans.” “Do they have the same... texture?” He blinks and now looks even more frightened. Seriously? I would have thought one of these ponies would have had a conversation like this with him! “Like I asked. Would it be something you’d feed your fledglings?” “If Ah had any fledglings to speak of? Maybe?” he replies. “I would like some then, five if you don’t mind,” I reply. Both Spike and Gavril look at me with a strange look. Then I elbow Spike and he holds out his platter. Gavril pokes five of them with a long wooden skewer before setting on my plate. “Oh, and if you don’t mind, I’d like some of that hot-uhm...casserole.” ============================================================== Spike took the platter of food over to an empty table that was a bit closer to the entry way. He set it down and looked at Heartbreak. She greedily eyed everything from the casserole, to the sausages and the celery sticks that had ranch dressing on them. “Are you sure you want to eat here, alone?” Spike asked, sighing a bit. Heartbreak rolled her eyes. “I’m a big... p-pony Spike, I’m sure that I can take on the challenges of eating.” “No, what I mean is that wouldn’t you like to eat with the others?” He asked pointing at the table Rarity was at. Heartbreak looked apprehensive. “Yes, Spike. I’m sure that Rarity and them would be appalled at my eating habits and lack of proper party etiquette. After all,” she licked her lips and bit into one of the mini-sausages on the plate. “I wouldn’t want Rarity to lose some deal because she had brought me along.” “She really does care about you, H.B.,” Spike replied looked a bit sad. Heartbreak chewed and swallowed the substitute meat. She blinked a little, smiled wide, and licked her lips before turning to Spike. “Oh, hey! Did Gavril bring out the desserts?” She asked pointing at the table. Spike gave Heartbreak a look. “Do you think I’m going to fall for that- Oh hey...he did! Ooo! Fiery cinnamon crisps!” “You’re going to be ok, right? Cause I’m going to-” Spike said as he started walking back. Heartbreak smirked “I’ll be fine. Just save me a few. And Spike?” The little dragon paused. “Thank you.” Spike chuckled. “Anytime, H.B.!” He said while giving Heartbreak a fake salute and scampering to the dessert trays.