//------------------------------// // Chapter 1 // Story: A Place for Everything and Everyone // by LCranston //------------------------------// Disclaimer: My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic is the property of Hasbro and associations and are used without permission for the sole purpose of entertainment for no financial gain of any kind. Stratum, Steele, Sawdust, Upper Crust, Heavy Hoof, the athletic coach, Mister Tongs, Paper Cut, Vellum, and Cherry Anvil are my intellectual property, but Lauren Faust can make me an offer if she wishes. Background and setup: I’m more of a Chip and Dale’s Rescue Rangers fanfic author than My Little Pony, but after watches the Friendship is Magic series, I have to say I approve of the writing style. It’s very entertaining without being exclusive to any one type of audience. Besides, any show that can successfully introduce intensity to its characters is good in my view. This story assumes a map that fans have created. It also assumes that the general landscape of Equestria has not significantly changed in at least two hundred years. I think that’s a fair assumption. A Place for Everything and Everyone by Charles Johnson (Approximately nineteen years before Princess Luna’s return) A pleasant little house sat on the edge of Ponyville. Everyone knew who lived here. This was the home of Sawdust the carpenter and Upper Crust, his refined wife, with their two sons Stratum and Steele. Sawdust was a well-respected carpenter renowned for his exceptional skill at woodworking. He was a fussy master craftsman, always taking extra time to do the job right and using only the best materials available. His work was pricey, but worth every coin. The front door to his house opened as Sawdust entered after a day at the lumberyard. He called out with a smile, “I’m starved!” The stallion was short for a full-grown adult, but his muscles were visibly toned from his normal daily labors. His orange coat and red mane were full of wood shavings and sawdust from his day’s work. Even his cutie mark, a hammer crossed with a saw, was difficult to see clearly. This constant appearance had given him his knick name, ‘Dusty’, which suited him just fine. He hated being called ‘Sawdust’ properly. It never seemed to sit right with him. From the kitchen, a middle-aged mare stuck her head out to view her husband with glee in her smile. She mock-complained, “Don’t you ever greet me with undying professions of love anymore, you mad colt?” Her tall, slim figure was complimented by her yellow coat and blue mane. Her cutie mark was a tasty-looking slice of blueberry pie. Sawdust walked boldly up to his wife and stole a sweet kiss from her lips. His clear, red eyes gazed deeply into her wide, green eyes. He then whispered, “I profess my eternal…undying…love and affection…for your cooking, my sweet.” Laughing loudly, she pulled herself away from him and flicked her tail across his nose playfully. She walked back into the kitchen to attend to the meal that was cooking in the oven. She stated, “Get washed up and dinner will be ready when you’re done!” He turned to head to an adjoining room in the house to take a bath. However, his heart felt heavy. He stopped and blurted out something before he could think about it. “I lost that new project today.” Upper Crust trotted out of the kitchen to nuzzle her husband tenderly. She cooed, “Oooohh, I’m so sorry! I know you really had great plans for that house. What happened?” Sawdust gratefully nuzzled his wife back and explained, “That young couple went with the bid from that business in Hoofington. It was cheaper.” Upper Crust didn’t say anything. She knew how passionate her husband was about the quality of his work. He continued, “Don’t that young couple realize that a cheaper house will just fall apart in only a few decades? Don’t they want something that will last long enough to give to their own children?” She kissed his muzzle and said, “Well, don’t you worry about it. We’re doing just fine without that project. There are lots of ponies who are backlogged for your work from all over Equestria. Now wash up and we’ll have dinner. I made mushroom and potato pasties, your favorite.” His stomach rumbled, bringing a smile to his face. He trotted off to the bathroom to wash up. Unwisely, Upper Crust continued, “Even if this does cause a problem, we’ll be okay. There’s my family…” Sawdust spun around to face his wife sharply. Controlling himself with effort, he evenly stated, “We are NOT asking your…family for help. You may come from Canterlot, but my family are NOT parasites.” ========================= Upstairs, a young colt sat in the corner of the room he shared with his younger brother. He sat surrounded by strips and squares of leather. He had needle and thread ready to pierce the tough material. He also had created a kind of punch machine to push the needle through the leather to make stitches. It seemed as if he were making some kind of garment slowly. The colt was tall for his age, but thin like his mother. He had an orange coat, blue mane, and green eyes. The colt hummed a nameless tune that he had invented just to help him concentrate on working. He focused on the needle and thread, trying to convince the thick pieces of leather to cooperate. So far, they were not cooperating. The door to the bedroom opened. A smaller colt entered and went straight for the closet. He had a yellow coat, red mane, and red eyes. Neighbors often said that the two brothers were like two spitting images of the parents all mixed up. The statement was to be taken as a compliment, but the brothers weren’t flattered. It just seemed to suggest that they didn’t belong with other ‘normal’ ponies. The younger brother opened the closet and took out a shovel he had hidden amongst his good clothes. The older brother looked up and said, “Stratum, Dad’s home and he’s not happy.” The smaller pony took the shovel in his mouth and somehow managed to say, “Okay.” Steele also said to his brother, “You know if you keep digging around the house, Dad will be angry with you.” Stratum took the shovel in his hooves and said flippantly, “I know. That’s why I’m gonna dig across the street. It’s practically the open fields. There’s bound to be loads of buried treasure there!” The older brother sighed and said, “Dad’s started his bath. Be back here in a half-hour. You know he hates it when you’re late for dinner.” ========================= Forty-five minutes later, the family, minus Stratum, stared at their plates with hunger. Sawdust was furious. Neither Upper Crust nor Steele dared to provoke him further. Suddenly, the door to the house opened, admitting a dirty Stratum. He had a smile on his face and he carelessly trotted dirt on to the carpet. Sawdust roared, “Where do you think you’ve been, young colt?!?! We’ve been waiting for you so long, our food is cold! Now we’re all going to eat cold food because of you!” Stratum, taken off-guard by the tantrum, stammered, “B-b-ut, I f-found some neat wheel brackets in the fields. They must be…I don’t know…a hundred years old! There must have been some big carriages in Ponyville a hundred years...” Stratum’s explanation tapered off to silence upon seeing his father’s stern countenance not soften. Sawdust declared, “Well, don’t just stand there! Go wash up because nopony’s eating until you’re ready! Then, after dinner, you’re going to clean up your mother’s carpets! She works all day to keep them clean and then you track dirt in our house?!” The small yellow colt raced for the bathroom, equally eager to start washing as he was to get away from his father’s yelling. As he passed by his older brother, Steele politely asked, “Could you please hurry? I’m hungry.” After the bathroom door shut loudly, Sawdust turned to his oldest son and commented, “And you’re not much better, playing with those clothes of yours. What are you trying to make, anyway?” Shyly, Steele answered, “Well, it’s a leather jersey for playing ponyball. The others play rough and this will stop me from getting hurt.” Finally hearing something logical after he got home, Sawdust felt his anger crumble away to a lesser amount. He stated, “Getting hurt builds character. You don’t want to grow up to be a wimp, do you?” Upper Crust came to the defense of her son, “He’s not talking about bumps and bruises, Dusty. Remember last year that ruffian Heavy Hoof rammed poor Steele in the side? He broke a rib and had to sit out for nearly a whole season of ponyball at school! He’s not supposed to break bones to build character. Why, it’s against the rules.” Sawdust backed off somewhat, saying, “Well, why didn’t they kick him off the team?” The ladylike pony sniffed and said, “The coach said he’d ‘talk’ to his mother. It didn’t happen again, but still! It was no accident! Why, I don’t understand that family. It’s like they reveled in their son causing injuries just because he’s bigger and stronger than the other colts. Why, I’ve heard rumors about him bullying the fillies! Can you imagine?” Soon, Stratum came out of the bathroom squeaky clean. He silently sat down at the table. The family then began to eat their cold dinner in silence. ========================= A few days later, Stratum was digging in the fields across the street from his house. He was exhausted. The shovel bit into the earth again and again, but no gold, silver, or jewels ever presented themselves. He would constantly find things like rusty nails, pieces of old lumber, or partially-disintegrated saddles. He felt cheated. He felt duped. Why were his instincts constantly telling him to dig here? Why was his brain promising him vast rewards in this hole? He sobbed, shedding a few tears into the hole. The dirt didn’t care. It just started forming mud on his hooves. Now he was going to go home muddy and get yelled at by his father again. Blindly, his shovel stabbed one more time at the earth beneath his hooves. CLUNK! The shovel bounced off of something wooden and hard. Stratum’s eyes opened wide as he thought of the riches inside that he could bring home. His shovel dug and dug all around the object. Quickly, his sight settled upon his prize. He felt both elation and puzzlement at the object. It was a wooden box approximately six feet long, two feet wide, and one foot deep. On the top were stenciled words in a language he couldn’t quite read. The letters resembled his normal language, but they were arranged in a way that didn’t make much sense. He could make out the words ‘town’ and ‘official’, so he made his decision. He climbed out of the hole and then galloped towards city hall. ========================= Steele limped back home from school. It would be dinnertime in two hours. Just enough time to try to make some alterations to his protective suit. It kind of worked, but kind of didn’t work. Heavy Hoof and mocked him before the game even started. He even went so far as to call Steele a ‘sissy’ for wearing it. Heavy Hoof made it a point to slam into Steele often during the game just to cause him pain. Such a hit had broken Steele’s delicate ribs last year, but the leather jersey and helmet had reduced the injury to a bruise. Close to the end of the game, Heavy Hoof’s team realized it was going to lose. Their star player had spent too much time trying to hurt Steele that it had squandered time on the clock. Enraged at losing to a ‘sissy’, Heavy Hoof had intentionally violated the rules against leaping into the air to crash into Steele. Steele had fallen to the ground hard, knocking the breath out of him. Heavy Hoof sneaked a glance to make sure the ball was elsewhere, thus everypony’s attention was elsewhere. BAM! His hoof kicked Steele in the side. Breathless, Steele could only grimace in pain. Heavy Hoof just smiled cruelly at his act of supremacy. TWEEEEEEEEEEEEEET!!! The sharp tone of the whistle blared across the entire field. The coach, a huge stallion with a dark blue coat, black mane, and intense yellow eyes, roared across the field, “HEAVY HOOF!!! If you think I didn’t watch you kicking a pony when they’re down, you’ve got another thing coming, mister!” The young colt yelped in panic and galloped away, with the coach hot on his hooves. The colt’s brown coat and black mane streamed with beads of sweat as he ran. His blue eyes betrayed genuine fear at perhaps the one pony in all of Ponyville that he truly feared. “You are going up in front of the school board for severe disciplinary measures, young colt! You are going to ask them very nicely not to expel you from this school. Won’t that be fun?” The other players gathered around Steele to try to help him up. To their surprise, Steele got up quickly all on his own. It was then that he decided that he needed something stronger than leather to stop the hard impacts given by players like Heavy Hoof. On the way home from school, he passed by the bakery. The delightful smells made his mouth water. Suddenly, the sting of the fresh hoof-shaped bruise killed his appetite. He idly wondered what could be stronger than leather yet flexible. As he passed by the blacksmith, he saw old Mister Tongs throwing out scrap metal in a small pile by the front door. The old stallion was so covered in charcoal dust that his coat and mane perpetually seemed as gray as his eyes. Steele’s eyes wandered to the pile of small metal plates that lay in overlapping patterns like a fish. When the next batch of plates fell on top of them, the underlying layer flexed and buckled, but did not scatter. Suddenly, his brain exploded with thoughts and ideas. The old stallion noticed the tall colt and greeted him. “Hello, Steele. My, you look beat up. Did ponyball go rough again today?” Steele responded politely, “Sure did, Mister Tongs. Heavy Hoof tried to injure me again, but my jersey protected me a little. Say, are you throwing those plates out?” The blacksmith kicked the pile of scrap metal and said, “Yup, they’re okay for little things like covering up rough woodwork or angle brackets, but not good enough for wheel braces or house reinforcements. I thought they were higher quality metal than they really are. Shame, though. I’m sure they could be used for something.” The colt asked earnestly, “Could I have them?” ========================= The next day, the town gathered in front of the library for a presentation. The mayor of Ponyville addressed the crowd from the front door. Next to her were Sawdust, Upper Crust, Stratum, and Steele. All of the family was looking proud. Next to the mayor was the box that Stratum had found. It was unlocked and ready to have its contents displayed. The mayor declared, “Citizens of Ponyville! We are gathered here to celebrate the return of our heritage! This box beside me is a time capsule created two hundred years ago. It was buried next to the old town hall, just across the street from where Sawdust’s house now stands. It was supposed to have been opened after a hundred years of waiting. Unfortunately, the old town hall burned only a generation after the box was buried.” The crowd ponies in the crowd murmured to each other in confusion. Clearly this was news to them. The mayor continued, “I know, I know. It was new information to me, too. Most of the records from then were destroyed in the fire. After the new town hall was built, two generations passed. By the time the hundred years were up, everypony had forgotten about the time capsule. It was only now that Stratum had dug up the site of the old town hall to restore our history to us!” The assembled crowd cheered loudly for the small pony. Stratum stood up tall and proud. Even Sawdust lost all of his anger and stomped loudly for his son. The mayor opened the box and began pulling out various objects. She explained, “Once we opened the box, we found the journal of the mayor back then. That journal told us of the time capsule’s story. A little cross-referencing with what few surviving documents we still have filled in the gaps.” She pulled out an antique lantern. “This old-style oil lamp is how ponies lit their homes and streets for travel at night.” She then pulled out what looked like a fresh, massive saddle that simply needed to be oiled. She revealed, “Believe it or not, this is an average saddle for a mare. They certainly didn’t have the choices of materials we have today for style and color. Ponies back then had to be practical for survival. See how there are places to attach saddlebags on each side? Very sturdy and useful for swapping out different bags rather than wasting time emptying them one at a time.” The crowd laughed at the old-fashioned saddle. Nopony would be caught dead wearing it now. Still, the sturdy construction was very practical. It gave the crowd an appreciation for how hard their ancestors had to work. The mayor then pulled out a familiar object. “Why, what’s this? It’s a ponyball! It seems that the game Equestria takes for granted today was invented right here in Ponyville two hundred years ago!” The crowd screamed and cheered for their proud heritage. Sawdust ruffled his small son’s mane and said, “Well, I guess digging in all that dirt was good for something.” Stratum had never felt so loved and respected. He bucked up onto his hind legs and neighed loudly. Suddenly, Stratum’s hips began to shine brightly. A picture of a shovel crossed with a magnifying glass appeared on his flank. The crowd stomped loudly in appreciation for Stratum’s new mark. Upper Crust began to cry with happiness. She declared, “Oh, my baby colt has his cutie mark!” Stratum complained, “Mom! It’s not a ‘cutie mark’! Fillies have cutie marks! Colts have flank symbols!” The crowd laughed out loud at the young one’s antics. Sawdust stepped up to support his son, “That’s right! We have masculine symbols, right fellas?” The stallions and colts in the crowd cheered and stomped in agreement. The mares and fillies just rolled their eyes in exasperation. The mayor announced, “Now, let’s celebrate our heritage by watching a game of ponyball at the school field!” ========================= The game of ponyball was hastily put together, but two teams were arranged and set into motion. During the game, Heavy Hoof had tried to convince the coach to let him play. The coach refused to even look at the brutish colt, much less give him permission. Furious at the brush-off, Heavy Hoof had called his friends over just before the start of the game. During the game, Steele had worn his new and improved leather jersey. It looked thinner and neater than before, with a helmet to match. It did not seem to restrict his movements. He caught the ball and began to carry the ball in his mouth closer to the opposing net. WHAM! One of the bully’s friends tackled Steele from the side hard, knocking him to the ground with all of his might. The ball dropped from Steele’s mouth. Everypony winced at the hit. It was legal, but it may have been hard enough to injure the slim colt. Steele immediately got up and ran off after the ball. The colt who performed the tackle slowly, shakily got up, but did not run afterwards. Steele kicked the ball to a teammate who was circling for an open position to score. WHAM! Another of Heavy Hoof’s friends slammed into Steele’s side with all his might. The pair of colts fell down. The coach felt his temper rise. He raised the whistle to his lips to stop the play and assign a penalty. He had seen older and healthier colts be carried to the hospital for broken bones from hits like that. They had no place in a young colts’ game. Steele immediately got back up and raced into position. The whistle just dropped from the coach’s surprised muzzle. The teammate was surrounded by opposing players. He spied Steele and kicked the ball over to him. The tall, slender pony spun around and received the ball with a powerful hind kick. The ball sailed past the net’s defender. The crowd erupted into cheers! The coach blew the whistle loudly, declaring, “That’s five! The game is over! The score is five to three!” The losing team caught their breath, but then they were congratulated by the winning team. The crowd moved in to fill the field with cheering. A little later, the coach was addressing the crowd. “Stallions and mares, your children really demonstrated good sportsmanship today! The game was played within the rules and the best team won today. Remember, there’s another game against the travel team from Hoofington next weekend. Come cheer on your Ponyville Pride at the school!” The field fairly vibrated from all of the stomping by the citizens and parents. After the stomping subsided, the coach announced, “Also, I have a special thanks for a certain colt who took the high road when someone dealt him an unfair blow. Steele? Come up here, young colt.” The crowd parted in wonder. The tall, thin colt trotted up to the coach. The coach announced, “Steele, that contraption you’re wearing protected you from solid tackles that should have broken your ribs. You should be gasping in the hospital an hour ago, but you got right up and had enough strength to score the winning goal.” The tell colt shyly pawed the ground and said, “Thank, coach. There’s overlapping metal scales under the leather to take the hit and spread it out.” The massive stallion tousled the young colt’s mane and declared, “That’s pure genius, Steele. If we had one of these for every player, then severe injuries would be practically non-existent. Would you consider making one for each player in Ponyville and donating them to the school?” The crowd smiled widely. Many of them had children who had broken bones because of ponyball in the past. In fact, many of them remembered themselves being taken to the hospital for the same things. The tall, slender colt smiled and said, “Sure, coach. I’ll need lots of leather and metal to get started. Each suit should take about three days to make.” The stallion declared, “Excellent! I’ll talk to the mayor about getting materials and tools for you to use.” The crowd cheered for Steele. The young colt let the well-wishes fill him up with happiness. Suddenly, Steele’s hips began to shine brightly. A picture of a hammer crossed with a full metal helmet appeared on his flank. The crowd stomped loudly in appreciation for Stratum’s new mark. Sawdust leaped up and down, cheering, “Both my colts got their flank symbols on the same day! I’ve never been so proud!” Upper Crust wiped more tears from her eyes and announced, “And I’ve never been so happy in all my life!” The proper mare turned to her husband and offered, “Dusty, now that we know their special talents, maybe my family in Canterlot could be useful now.” Sawdust arched an eyebrow, asking, “How’s that, my little blueberry pie?” Upper Crust offered, “My family have contacts at the palace. We could ask around and get apprenticeships for our sons using their special talents. I’m sure we could ensure their future if they work hard.” The carpenter pony considered the idea. It actually appealed to him. They could never afford the fancy schools they really wanted to send their sons to attend. That left the traditional practice of sending their children away for apprenticeships to existing experts. Knowing the right experts could be hard for a pony who spends his life in a single town. He said reluctantly, “Well, we’ll see. It wouldn’t hurt to ask them what’s available.” Upper Crust wiped more tears from her eyes and announced, “Everyone! I’m going to bake enough pies to feed the town! Picnic in three days in the field next to our house!” The assembled crowd cheered for the proud family. Several ponies offered to help by bringing their own food to the planned party. Stratum chirped, “You mean once I fill all of the holes in!” Everypony laughed outright. Things in Ponyville were harmonious and glad…for now. THE END?