//------------------------------// // Bridle Gossip // Story: Manticores, Crushes, and Alcohol // by Hidden Brony //------------------------------// Streak woke up in a good mood. He had the feeling it was going to be a good day today. He hummed as he showered, something he hadn’t done since. . . years ago. His mood unsullied by his reminiscing, he stepped out of the shower. He yelped when he came face-to-face with a white pony. “Stay inside today,” he said before walking out of the bathroom. There was a pause before Streak asked, “What?” He got no response, so he walked, soaking wet, out of the bathroom to track down the drunkard. He found him in the next room—drinking, of course—and decided to repeat his question. “What? Why?” The drunk pointed out a window, where a cloaked pony was observable. She was standing in a strangely abandoned street with no living creature visible around her. “That’s why.” The cloaked pony removed her hood, revealing her exotic appearance. She was a light grey, with darker stripes along her coat and mane, which was done up in a mohawk. She had sharper features, and eyes that were shaped much more angularly than regular pony eyes. She had bands of gold around various parts of her body. Streak was nearly struck speechless. “We’re staying inside because of. . . a zebra?” “Yes,” Change replied. “Trust me, you want to stay inside.” “Why?” the blank asked. “I’ve seen zebras before. They’re rare, and it doesn’t surprise me that Ponyville hasn’t seen one yet, but why are we avoiding her?” “Because you become a pariah if you associate with her,” the drunk replied. “Just wait for her to leave and forget about it.” “Forget about it?” Streak exclaimed. “Why would we forget about it? She’s been unjustly outcast because of what she is!” “It will work out,” Change said cryptically, taking another swig of his bottle. “Trust me. When have I been wrong?” Streak opened his mouth, expecting an easy rebuttal, but found himself struck dumb. There was not one occasion he could think of that the drunk was wrong. Not one. “Just stay inside for the next hour or so, then she’ll have left. After that, you can go along your normal day if you wish.” “My normal day is hanging out at the bar,” Streak said. “I’m just going to head out the back door and meet you there.” “I advise against it, but do whatever. I’m a drunk, not a guard,” Change said. “The first step to fixing a problem is admitting you have a problem,” Streak teased. “I said ‘drunk’, not ‘alcoholic’. Alcoholics go to meetings,” Change said in rebuttal. “Just go and hang out at the bar before opening hours, like you always do.” With the streets empty, travel was faster, even if it was eerily quiet. He pushed open the door to the bar. “Afternoon, Berry!” he called out. “Are you crazy?” the mare exclaimed, pulling him away from the door. There was a loud bang as the door slammed shut. “She might see you!” “Is there some reason we’re afraid of her besides the fact that she looks funny?” Streak asked. “Pinkie says she’s evil!” Berry said quietly. “If she catches you, she puts you under her spell, and you become her slave until she gets hungry. Then she cooks you up and eats you!” Streak deadpanned at her. “Zebras eat fruits and vegetables, same as ponies.” “Would Pinkie lie?” she asked. “She could be misinformed,” he replied. “I’ve known zebras, Berry. I went drinking with one back in the day. It frustrated my parents to no end, but I wasn’t enspelled or eaten. In fact, he held less liquor than I did and always made a fool of himself at parties. What I’m saying is that she’s just a funny-looking pony.” “I’ll believe it when I see it,” she said. “I guess you’re here for your water?” “I come here every day, and every day you ask that question,” Streak said. “Yes, I’m here for water. I’m also here for conversation and company.” “You might not get as much of the latter two as usual,” Berry cautioned. “My parents dropped of my little sister earlier today. She’s not feeling well, and they need to travel for work.” “You have a little sister?” the blank asked, shocked. “Why does that surprise you?” she asked. “Because I’ve been coming here for two months and you haven’t mentioned her,” he said. “I just didn’t expect it.” “You don’t talk about your family!” she snapped. “Neither does Change. Why is it some kind of deal that I don’t, either?” Streak held his hooves up defensively. “It’s not, it’s not!” he said quickly. “Geez, Berry, what’s gotten into you? Bite my head off, why don’t ya?” She rested her head on her hooves, leaning on the bar. “Sorry, kid. I’m just stressed. Poor Ruby is sick, and here I am setting up the bar. What kind of sister am I?” “A sister with a job,” he replied. “You can’t be there constantly, but you can try your best.” “It’s just that she’s caught some kind of stomach bug,” the barmare said. “She’s miserable, and every second I spend out here is another second she’s alone.” Streak was silent for a moment before saying, “What if I look after her for you while you work?” “I couldn’t. It wouldn’t be fair to you,” Berry said. “I insist. You say she’s miserable and alone, and this would make her feel better,” the blank said. “Applejack said something about coming to the bar for the next few days,” she said. Streak’s face clearly showed the conflict inside his brain right then. After a minute, he sighed. “It doesn’t matter,” he said, causing Berry’s jaw to drop. “She’s sick and needs somepony to be there. What kind of pony am I if I abandon her just to hang with my friends?” “With your crush, you mean,” Berry teased. “But really, you don’t have to.” “But I will anyway,” he said, slightly red. “Just show me where she is, and I’ll do my best to keep her in at least the condition you hoof her over in.” Berry gave him a thankful smile. “You have no idea how much this means to me.” “With how hard you tried to convince me not to do it, I find that hard to believe,” he teased. “It’s no problem. I’m unemployed, remember? I have literally no responsibilities right now.” “You watch after Derpy when she shows up,” she reminded him. “That’s a pretty big responsibility. “She’s a grown mare,” he said. “She can handle a few days without adult supervision.” “Thanks, kid,” she said. “No problem. Now where is the little rascal?” he asked. “She’s upstairs,” the barmare replied. “Third door to your right.” Within a minute, Streak was upstairs and opening the door he was directed to. “You aren’t Berry,” a foal groggily moaned as he walked into the room. “No, I’m not,” he said. “My name’s Streak, and I’m here to help you feel better.” “You aren’t a doctor,” the foal—Streak assumed this was Ruby—groaned. “Are you a mortician, then? Am I going to die?” “You’re going to be fine, it’s just a bug that’s going around,” he said. “I’m a friend of Berry’s. She was all torn up about not being able to be here for you, so I came in her stead.” “Better than nothing,” she groaned. “You really know how to make a stallion’s ego inflate,” he teased. “You need anything?” “A bucket,” she gasped out. “Fast.” —*~*~*— “How did it go?” Berry asked when Streak came downstairs. There were no more customers in the bar, having closed a half hour ago, and she was just finishing cleaning everything with a drunken Change, who looked like he had passed out at some point during the job. He sighed in exhaustion. “I didn’t know it was possible for such a little body to have so much in it,” he said. “She’s feeling much better. Whatever it was must have been expelled with the last few hurls.” “That’s good to hear,” she replied. “I’m keeping her home from school again, just in case, though. If she’s not feeling well tomorrow, are you okay with doing this again?” “Of course,” he said. “Anything for a friend.” “Be careful saying that,” the barmare replied. “You might end up making out with one of them while drunk.” “Berry!” he exclaimed, turning beet-red. “That was weeks ago! Why are you still bringing this up?” “Because it’s fun?” she asked. “Maybe next time, you should drink in more moderation.” “After all the teasing for not getting drunk, you now tease me for getting drunk once,” he groaned. “Can I not win?” “Nope," she teased. "Will you at least tell me who it was?" he asked. "Nope," she said. "You could try asking them, though." "Not a chance," he said. "I'd rather not know." "To each his own," she said, shrugging. "That'll be the fastest way to learn, though." "Then I shall remain in the dark," he replied. "I'll see you tomorrow at the regular time, right?" "Of course," the barmare said. "Have a good night. I'll deal with this useless drunk so you don't have to." "Thanks Berry," Streak said, heading for the door. "Are you sure you don't need me anymore right now?" "Go, before I think you're flirting," she said with an exaggerated wink. Streak chuckled and left, collapsing on the floor in a deep sleep the instant he got home. He remained there for the rest of the night, awakening only after the sun rise the next morning. He stood up and stretched, groaning in satisfaction as his back popped down its entire length. A quick shower later, he was revealed to have gotten up at eight, a full four hours earlier than was normal for him. This revealed something else to him; he had absolutely no idea what to do if he wasn't at the bar. “I guess I should get to know the girls better,” he mused to himself. “I’ve lived here for two months and I don’t even know what they all do.” With that, it was a quick jaunt to the market, where he was most likely to find somepony that knew where he could find one of his friends. “Well, Applejack’s in the big farm just outside of town. You won’t miss it,” the first mare he asked said. “Rarity owns Carousel Boutique, which is just down the street. Pinkie lives above Sugarcube Corner. I assume you know where that is. Fluttershy lives by the Everfree Forest, for whatever reason. Twilight lives in the library. Rainbow Dash lives in the giant house made of clouds.” “Of course she does,” Streak sighed. “Can’t have a normal house. No, that wouldn’t be ‘cool’ enough for Rainbow Dash.” “You really don’t like her, do you?” the mare asked. “Not one bit, and the feeling is mutual,” he said. “We avoid each other so we don’t come to blows.” “Well if you run into her on the street, try and avoid attacking each other,” she said, shaking her head. “We won’t,” he said. “It’s way before she gets up on any given day.” "I actually saw her earlier," the mare said. "She was headed into the Everfree to confront Zecora about her evil curses!" The stallion gave a long-suffering sigh. "She doesn't use curses. There are no such things as curses." "Then why were her wings switched?" she asked. "Karma?" Streak suggested. “Maybe Twilight got tired of her constant bragging?” “Twilight’s horn was coated in blue spots and all floppy,” the mare said. “She couldn’t use it.” The stallion planted his hoof firmly onto his face. “Poison joke. Of course.” “Poison joke?” she asked. “What is that?” “You’ll learn soon enough, most likely,” he said. “I’m just going to take a nap this morning.” True to his words, he returned home and laid down for an hour. After that hour, he headed back into town. Because the day had been going too well for him so far, the first pony he ran into—literally—was Rainbow Dash. “Watch it,” she growled as she picked herself up off the ground. The two glared at each other as they slowly walked apart. Streak snorted and looked forward, saying, “Braggart.” “What did you say?” she asked. He stopped walking and turned around. “I said braggart. Blowhard, boaster, gasbag, showoff, hotshot." He took a step towards the mare with every word, ending up mere inches from her at the end. "If you don’t know, that’s a noun. It means a person who boasts about achievements or possessions. I think that applies to you fairly well. I figured that even you would know basic Equestrian.” “Are you calling me stupid?” she growled, stepping towards him. “I’m insinuating a lack of basic intelligence,” he said, poking her in the nose. “If you don’t know, that means ‘yes’.” —*~*~*— “I can’t believe you got us arrested,” a bruised Streak complained from his shared cell. “Shut up,” an equally-injured Rainbow answered from her position sitting next to him. “This is all your fault.” “My fault?” he exclaimed. “Which of us decided to start a hoof-fight in the middle of the street in the broad daylight?” “You pushed me to it,” she replied, tilting her head upwards indignantly. “You have got to be kidding me,” the blank groaned. “You are seriously blaming me for this.” “I thought that was obvious when I said it was your fault,” she said, frowning. “I thought you were supposed to be smart.” “Don’t you start this with me,” Streak growled. “I am not in the mood for this.” “And I am?” she exclaimed. “Do you think I enjoy being locked up? Do you think I go out of my way to get arrested for the smallest things?” After her outburst, the two of them sat in silence for a few minutes, glaring at each other. Eventually Streak spoke up, “Why did they put us both in the same cell if we’re in jail for fighting each other?” “Easier to clean?” she suggested. “That’s beside the point, though. We’re in jail.” “Whatever,” he said in a tone implying that the conversation was over. About an hour of silence later, a guard walked up to their cell. “Alright, we’re taking you one at a time for questioning. Don’t lie, and you’ll be fine.” “I’m first,” Streak jumped in, standing up. “Excuse me?” Rainbow growled. “Alright then, colt. Come with me.” There was a clicking noise as the guard inserted a key into the lock and turned the key. As soon as Streak was out of the cell, it was closed and relocked. The blank followed the guard to a small table. After sitting, the guard indicated that he should sit down, as well. “Okay, so you know why we’re doing this, right?” “Because I attacked Rainbow Dash in the middle of a street?” Streak asked. The guard cocked an eyebrow. “All witnesses say that she attacked you first. Are you saying that they are all lying?” “Mistaken,” the blank said, “not lying. She swung first, but I purposely pushed her to it. Verbal assault.” “She’s still guilty,” the guard said, sighing. “Look, all you would get for this would be a few days in jail—a week, tops—and some hours of community service, since both of your records are spotless.” “Alright, tell me when my hours are,” Streak said. “You aren’t seriously taking the blame for this, are you?” the guard asked. “I thought there was no love lost between you two.” Streak snorted. “There isn’t. I am as close to hating her as I have ever gotten with any creature, ever. However, she has a job and makes herself useful. She does something for the community. I. . . don’t. Heck, I don’t even have a cutie mark.” “So you’re saying that you’re going to take the fall for this, leaving Rainbow’s record spotless and staining yours, all because you don’t have a job?” the guard said. “Yeah, pretty much,” the blank said. “There is also an element of angering parents in there somewhere, but the main reason is because I’m useless right now. I can afford this, she can’t.” “You are a better stallion than I am,” the guard said, shaking his head. He held out a hoof. “Name’s Star Shield. Call me Shield. If you ever call me Star, I’ll find some reason to arrest you.” “Streak,” the such-named stallion said, bumping Shield’s hoof with his own, a genuine smile on his face. “Alright, now all that’s left is informing Rainbow that all charges are dropped, and we move on, right?” Shield said, grinning. “Then we move onto getting me a cell, right?” Streak asked. “I don’t want to waste time.” “No, not just her charges,” the guard said. “I’m not charging anypony today. It was a misunderstanding, obviously. Both of you thought the other were attacking, and it was a once-in-a-lifetime double self-defense case. Have a great day.” “You’ve got to be kidding me,” Streak said, shaking his head in disbelief. “You are really doing this, aren’t you?” “Look, you’re willing to take the flack for Rainbow, a mare you claim to hate, all because it would inconvenience her more than you. This is not the kind of stallion we want behind bars,” Shield said, “so I’m letting you go.” "You are serious," Streak said. "I am," Shield said. "On a completely unrelated note, have you ever thought of joining the guard?" ". . . Don't you like to have guardsponies that can fight?" Streak asked. "You dislocated a stallion's leg and evaded another stallion's best attempts at striking you," the guard said. "Besides, I can teach you how to be a guard. That attitude you just showed? That can't be taught." "Does the lack of a cutie mark not bother you?" Streak asked. "It does everypony else looking to hire." "If you'd approached me yesterday, I would have answered yes," the guard said. "However, you just showed an attitude unheard of in even ponies, so I'll make an exception for you. Even if you are only an average fighter, you'll make an amazing guard." "Do I have to leave Ponyville?" the blank asked. "Because if so, then count me out." "I'll pull some strings," the guard said. "I used to go drinking with the captain when were were rookies. He owes me for not telling his marefriend some of the stories he told us. I'll even train you myself, just to keep you home." "Sounds like a deal, then," Streak said. "When do I start?" "Tomorrow at dawn," Shield said. "No more being lazy. Your training will last all day, every day until I say you're allowed to stop. You still up for it?" "If you could delay for a few days, I'd take it as a personal favor," Streak said. "Berry's little sister is sick and I take care of her during bar hours." Shield nodded. "This is exactly what I'm talking about, kid. Sure. The second she's better, come on by and we'll get started. I'll be waiting every day at dawn for you." "Thanks," Streak said. "Thanks, what?" Shield said, getting a wide grin on his face. "Thanks, sir?" the blank asked. "We'll work on it. Let's get your marefriend out of her cell and on her way home," Shield said. "Oh, Celestia, don't make me puke," Streak groaned. "There will never be anything between us." "So you say," the guard teased as they walked. "Mark my words, kid; you will end up with Rainbow within the next two years." "I sure hope not," Streak said, frowning. The rest of the short walk was in silence. The guardspony walked up to the cell and unlocked it. He swung it wide. "Sorry for the misunderstanding, Miss Rainbow. You're free to go." She looked at the two with wide eyes. "What?" She asked with disbelief. "I explained that it was all an accident," Streak said. "We're both free to go." She stared at him and walked out of the cell with trepidation. When nothing stopped her, she kept walking. At the door, she paused and looked back at the duo. "You should get leaving, too," Shield said, turning to the blank. "It's getting pretty close to four, and Berry will start prepping the bar soon." Streak nodded. "Have a good life. I'll talk to Berry about getting you some kind of discount." "I won't say yes, since guards cannot accept gifts, but I won't say no. Do whatever," the guard said with a smile. "Now go." Streak gave him a small salute and walked out of the building. A stunned Rainbow followed him outside. When they were under the sun, she asked, "How did you do that?" "Trade secret," Streak said, smirking. "Why did you do that?" she asked. "You hate me." "And you me," he said. "Question not why you have good fortune, just roll with it." "That was almost, almost wise," she said, rolling her eyes. "Whatever. You go do. . . whatever it is you do when you do stuff. Later." She spread her wings and took off for her floating cloud-house. " 'Whatever it is you do when you do stuff'?" he asked the air. "And she was making fun of me for my word choice." —*~*~*— “Three days, recruit,” the guardspony said when Streak finally showed up. “I expected more.” “She got better,” the blank said. “Why would I not show up?” “That’s what I like to hear!” Shield said, clapping a hoof onto Streak’s withers. “Let’s get you started. Before we start the physical training, we need to make sure you know your stuff. First, there are three types of guard.” “Earth, unicorn, and pegasus?” Streak asked. “Day, Night, and Dusk,” the guard corrected. “Day guards are Princess Celestia’s, Night guards are Princess Luna’s, and Dusk guards bridge the gap between the two. Of the three, Day guards are the most common, and Dusk are the least.” “I assume that’s because of Princess Luna’s recent reinstatement?” Streak asked. “Correct,” Shield said. “Dusk guards are there in the case of another civil war. Not something we like to talk about, especially the Princesses. They are the best and the brightest of both Day and Night, and are the only guard branch you can’t apply to. You get recruited.” “Doesn’t that cripple the other two?” Streak asked. “That’s the point,” his companion replied. “They remain neutral to the politicking of the Princesses. They may get along, but Princess Luna is more used to now-archaic and antiquated ends-justify-means methods, while Princess Celestia prefers to avoid putting anypony through any kind of pain or inconvenience unless no other option presents itself, putting them at conflict on more than one occasion.” “So who is in charge of the Dusk guards?” Streak asked. “I assume that Princess Celestia has control of the Day, and Princess Luna the night.” Shield nodded. “Correct assumptions. The captain of the Dusk guards is their leader, rather than the second in command. She tends to prefer Princess Celestia’s methods over Princess Luna’s, but she also uses the Night Princess’s methods with less provocation.” “How are the captains chosen?” the blank asked. “It seems like something important, especially for the Dusk guards.” “Day captains are chosen by Princess Celestia, and Night captains are chosen by Princess Luna,” the guard answered. “Dusk captains are chosen. . . somehow. They don’t tell us. The Princesses and the Day and Night captains head into a magically sealed room and emerge with the name they chose.” “That sounds cryptic,” Streak said. “But enough of that. What more do I need to learn?” “That you are now a private third class in the Equestrian Guard,” Shield said, slipping into a commanding tone of voice, “and that from this moment forward, you are mine. If I say jump, you do not ask ‘how high”, you jump as high as you can because you know that will be the bare minimum I require of you; if I tell you to jump off a bridge, you ask me which one; and if I tell you to stab yourself in the leg, you go ahead and stab two just in case. Do you understand?” “Yes,” Streak said. “Yes, what, private?” Shield asked. “Yes, sir,” the blank said. “Sound off like you have a pair!” the guardspony shouted. “Yes, sir!” Streak exclaimed. “We’ll work on it,” the guard said, looking at the blank with disapproval. “Now, for the baseline physical test.” —*~*~*— Streak didn’t go to the bar that night. Or the next. Or even the next week. Each day, he showed up at the guard station at dawn, and didn’t return home until past twilight. Each night, he collapsed into his bed when he made it—by the end of it all, he spent multiple days at Derpy’s, whose house was closer than his and whose couch was incredibly comfortable when you’re exhausted—and slept until his alarm woke him for another day of grueling training. He wouldn’t have even cared if he was doing anything. Every day, he was forced to run laps around Ponyville. After three or so of those, he did basic exercises for the next two hours. After that, he ran even more laps around Ponyville. Then, when that was all done, he ran through the Whitetail Forest. Not on the paths, but straight through the underbrush. It mattered not where or how he ran, as long as he kept running—off the paths, of course—until the sun came down. After sundown, he would find his way back and return to the station, be informed of everything he might have possibly have done wrong and sent home. One day, he decided to bring this up with Shield. “I’m not even doing anything. I’m just running around and doing pushups!” “So you want to skip all this and get right into the thick of it, eh?” the guard asked. Streak nodded. “Fine. Let’s get you suited up.” Streak grinned, thinking he had won. He followed the other stallion to a locked room in the station that, apparently, held all the armor allotted to Ponyville. “This is standard issue Day guard armor,” Shield said. “Forty pounds of solid steel, plated with gold leaf.” After a moment, Streak was not so confidant in his choice of moving on when the armor was placed on him. It was fairly heavy, he was forced to admit. He had a new respect for Shield, having done the first few runs alongside him in armor. “There we go. Now, time to figure out what your favored weapon is.” With a kick, another door opened, showing that there were literally dozens of swords, axes, spears, knives, maces, and anything else you could think of in an adjacent room. “We’ll start with the spears, since that’s what most ponies are proficient in.” He turned to look at Streak, who—even with his recent conditioning—was slightly winded. “Is that too heavy for you?” “No, sir,” the blank said. “Good,” the guard said. “I wouldn’t want to think that you were overconfident. That’s a trait normally associated with Rainbow Dash, isn’t it?” Oh, it was on. “Yes, sir,” Streak said gritting his teeth. He wouldn’t back out now. He couldn’t back out now. “Alright, here’s the spear. First step is to head to the training room. Try not to trip over your own hooves,” the guard then moved through the doorways with practiced ease, carrying at least half a dozen weapons on his back. Streak struggled to carry one spear while wearing his armor. “Having trouble?” Shield asked with a smirk as Streak finally made it into the room. It was a fairly large room, being twenty meters square. There were pony-shaped dummies lined one of the walls, and the center of the room was dominated by a wood-bordered sunken sand pit. “No, sir,” Streak said. “Good. Go over to the dummies, and we’ll start teaching you how to use these weapons.” —*~*~*— “Alright, we’re having a surprise inspection soon,” Shield said a few weeks later. At this point, training had been going on for two months. After the first time Streak put his armor on to train, he never practiced without it—much to the surprise of his trainer. Most recruits went through the ‘I’m done with this’ phase, but only Streak was determined enough to keep going with it. He even did his runs, when he was required to do them, wearing his armor. “Because of this, I will expect you to be in top shape. These will be your final exams. Pass, and you’re done. Fail, and repeat everything. From day one.” “Sir, yes sir!” Streak said. There was a knock at the door and a pony in full guard armor walked through. Only his training kept Streak’s jaw from dropping. “Surprise.” “I hope you’re ready,” the guardspony said.