//------------------------------// // Roommate Rumination // Story: The Wonderbolts // by Captain Dash //------------------------------// Spitfire couldn’t help but feel a little small as she walked through campus. The place was bigger than she would have ever imagined. Spitfire passed by building after building, briefly trying to file all the new information. Paths crisscrossed every which way in the cloud terrain, with many posts containing lights or speakers atop of them. Spitfire reached a rather large clearing, centered between many buildings. There were other pegasi flying and walking in groups everywhere. Some were playing catch, others showing off their various flying moves. The first thing she noticed was that every pegasi was with another. She was alone, and didn’t know anyone. “Well at least I’ll have my roommate,” thought Spitfire to herself. The thought brought a slight nervous feeling to her stomach. “Come on Spits, get it together. You’re usually confident and outgoing, so why do you feel so nervous about this? Well, what if she doesn’t like me,” Spitfire argued with herself. Spitfire’s line of thought was cut off as she stopped in front of her destination. Reaching into her bag, she pulled out a map and some papers to make sure she was at the right place. Glancing up, she noticed that “Willow Hall” was inscribed in large letters on the side of the building. “Oh, right,” she grinned sheepishly, tucking the papers back in her bag. “I guess I’m here.” Slowly opening the front door, she headed inside to find an array of ponies everywhere in the foyer. Spotting the front desk across the room, she maneuvered her way through the crowd. “Name and papers please,” a voice from behind the desk called out, as Spitfire approached the desk. A light green stallion starred back at her, with one hoof supporting his head, and another stretched out motioning for her papers. “Spitfire,” she replied as she shuffled through her bag for her authorization notes. The light green stallion took her papers, and stamped something onto it. Picking up a highlighter in his mouth, he shuffled through the papers before picking up his own and crossing her name off the list. “You’ll be in the east side of the hall,” he explained as he turned around. “Further down this main corridor, the hall splits into two separate sides, east and west. You’re room number is 107,” he continued, grabbing a key off a giant key rack. “If you need anything, you can get it here at the front desk,” he said, handing Spitfire the key. “Thanks!” she said cheerfully, putting the key on her lanyard. “And don’t forget to be at the Cloudiseum by noon!” he called after her, as she began to walk away. Spitfire wasn’t even thinking that far ahead. As she approached the fork in the hallway, the nervous tension began to creep up on her again. Turning the corner, she was met with a long hallway full of doors. The tension only rose as she neared her room. She sat down on her haunches in front of the door labeled “107” and let out a nervous sigh. Biting her lip, she gently reached for the doorknob. It gave a slow twist open. “Well, whoever my roommate is, she’s in there,” Spitfire observed excitedly. Taking a deep breath, she pushed the door the rest of the way open. Spitfire took a moment to observe her new living space. It was small and pretty cramped. The walls and ceiling were obviously old, completed with some seeable cracks. There was a large window on the opposite side of the room. Spitfire stood next to a small entryway, with a mirror on her right and cabinets to her left. It also seemed uncomfortably hot, making the tension in the room seem even thicker. Spitfire immediately noticed that half of the dorm room had been well covered with pictures. The room was complete with two dressers and two desks, tucked neatly under two bunk beds, each separated on split sides of the room. Atop the other bed, another pony lay there, reading a magazine. From what Spitfire could tell, her fur was a cloudy white color. Slowly, she peered over the magazine before closing it and setting it aside. Gently, she jumped off the bunk and floated down. “’Sup,” she said chirpily, with a tilt of her head. “I’m Aerial.” Her white coat was barely contrasted by her wispy light blue mane and tail. Her tail had a light, seafoam green stripe running through it. Spitfire traced it up to her flank, where a cutie mark of three gray lined swirls depicting wind stood out. She was smaller like Spitfire, but had rather large wings with transitioning white to light blue feathers around the edge. For some unknown reason, there was something about her that Spitfire couldn’t quite place. She seemed…light. When she had leaped down from her bunk, Aerial seemed to just….float, like a feather. Sapphire eyes gazed back at Spitfire, as Aerial stuck out her leg, awaiting a hoof bump. “I assume you’re Spitfire?” “Yeah, that’s me,” Spitfire forcefully laughed, bumping her hoof against Aerial’s. “Cool,” she stated, turning back to our side of the room. “I don’t bite, so you can stop being nervous and come in. You should really get yourself unpacked; we only have an hour before we have to head off to the Cloudiseum.” “Oh, right,” Spitfire said, putting her bags down in front of the dresser. Her nervousness from before was slowly wearing off. Aerial’s lofty spirits had quickly given her a peace of mind. “So,” Spitfire began, unpacking her clothes, “Tell me about yourself Aerial.” “I’m from Las Pegasus. I lived on the edge of the unforgiving desert with the ocean close too. I know EVERYTHING about the weather,” she stressed. “It can get bad out there, with sandstorms, twisters, even the occasional hurricane. If you couldn’t tell from my many posters, I love music. There’s really not too much else you need to know.” Ducking behind her magazine so that only her eyes could peer over, Aerial smirked and continued. “Oh! I should also probably mention that I’m into mares.” Spitfire slammed the drawer closed slightly harder than intended. A blush began to appear on her face as she turned around. “Oh….that’s cool,” Spitfire stated very slowly, avoiding eye contact, not really sure what to say. Aerial burst out into a fit of laughter, unable to keep up the façade. “Your face….right now,” Aerial cried, giggling uncontrollably as she peered over the edge of the bed. “It’s so…RED!” Spitfire turned away trying to get her blush under control. “Relax Spits, I’m joking. I just wanted to see how you’d react,” Aerial managed through, wiping away tears. “Ohh that’s how it is, is it?” Spitfire thought deviously. “Two can play that game.” “It’s rather unfortunate you feel that way…” Spitfire said as she turned around and looked Aerial right in the eye. “…because I thought that we…” Spitfire continued, flying up to Aerial’s bed. “…were about to get off to a better start than I had ever imagined,” Spitfire purred, trying to give Aerial her best bedroom eyes. It was Aerial’s turn to blush. “Spitfire…I….I….” she stammered. Aerial seemed to be trying to make herself small, pushing herself back up against the wall. Spitfire continued hovering there for another dramatic seconds, hoofs folded behind her back. “Gotcha!” Spitfire exclaimed, punching Aerial in the shoulder before dropping back to the floor. “Not funny, Spits!” Aerial shouted from above. “You were almost too convincing!” “Whatever lovebird,” Spitfire shot back with a smile. “I’m all settled in, so we should probably head over to the Cloudiseum.” Aerial leaped off her bunk and floated down in front of Spitfire’s path to the door. “You know, I was a little tense about this whole roommate thing earlier, but you’re pretty cool Spitty.” “Oh stop it,” Spitfire said with a wave of the hoof. “You’re gunna make me blush again.” “Ughhh…” Aerial groaned, smacking a hoof to her face. “Is this what it’s going to be like all summer?” “Oh don’t be so dramatic,” Spitfire gagged, flying over top of her and opening the door. “I’m a delight!” Aerial dragged the door closed with her wing on the way out. A swift turn of the key locked the door, as Spitfire began to walk down the hallway. Hearing no hoofsteps behind her, she turned around to find Aerial checking the locked door. “Have you always been this fascinated with doors?” Spitfire joked curiously. “Ha-ha,” Aerial mockingly laughed back. “I’m methodical okay? I want to make sure it’s closed.” “Are you like this with everything?” Spitfire enquired, half serious as they made their way to the fork in the hall. “Usually. I do everything in a systematic fashion. I like to be thorough.” After a short walk, the two made their way outside into the bright sunlight. “Celestia, it sure is hot out today!” Spitfire sighed. “I hope it’s not always like this up here.” “Well your hair is on fire,” Aerial grinned. “What?!” Spitfire panicked. “Calm down Spits, it isn’t. Your mane does have a really fiery look though. Does this mean you’re a hothead?” Aerial laughed at her pun. “Real funny,” Spitfire drawled. No sooner had the words left her lips when the speakers at the top of poles came to life. “INTRODUCTORY MEETING IN FIFTEEN MINUTES!” the speaker shouted. Spitfire and Aerial quickened their pace. They had been trotting in silence for a few minutes, when a Pegasus zipped in front of them. From out of nowhere, a satchel dropped from the blazing blur. “Huh,” Spitfire mused, picking up the dropped item. “Poor thing must be running late. I guess I’ll hold on to it and return it later.” Aerial gave her a shrug as she threw it on. “He’s never going to make it,” Aerial stated with a joking laugh, as they made their way to the Cloudiseum. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ “I’m never going to make it,” Soarin’ groaned as he flew up to the Welcome Center. A bell chimed as he pushed his way through the front door. “I need to know how to get to Willow Hall,” he said hurriedly. “Go straight on the path once you exit the other side of this building, then take a right on the large intersecting path once you near the Cloudiseum,” came a nagging voice behind the counter. The mare had clearly had a long day, and wasn’t even glancing in Soarin’s direction. “And for the love of Celestia, please take a map on the way out. I don’t think I can handle another confused, lost pony today,” she sighed. She looked up to see a blue trail lingering behind the closing door. Soarin’ bolted down the path. In his frenzy of scrambling out the door, he had forgotten to throw his satchel back over his neck, struggling to keep ahold of it in one hoof with his suitcase. “INTRODUCTORY MEETING IN FIFTEEN MINUTES!” a speaker barked nearby. Startled by the sudden voice, Soarin’ began to slightly lose hold of his luggage. Nearing the Cloudiseum, he spotted the next path and made a sharp turn right. The force of the turn made his satchel slip out of his grip. “I don’t have time for this!” Soarin’ inwardly cursed. Figuring that he would receive it back eventually, he flew on. He was so distracted by his lost luggage that he nearly had time to fan his wings, stopping him near inches from the words “Willow Hall”. Soarin’ swooped down through the front door and up to the front desk, throwing his suitcases down on the floor. “Well I thought I had seen the last of them,” a light green stallion moaned. “Name and papers please.” “Uhhh…” Soarin’ hesitated, remembering his dropped satchel. “I dropped them along the way.” Soarin’ gave a small pout to the tired stallion. “Oh whatever,” he said with a roll of his eyes. “By the look of your eye I’d guess that you’ve had a pretty bad day. Just tell me your name.” “Soarin’” “Alright Soarin’,” he said through a mouth full of highlighter. “You’re in room 260 on the west side.” He tossed him a key from the key rack behind him. “Take a left at the fork in the corridor, and you should probably step on it.” Soarin’ didn’t need telling twice. Grabbing the heavy suitcases, he snatched the key with his teeth and rocketed out of sight. Sweat was gently forming under his wind swept mane as he rounded the corner. He forced himself to slow down and read the room numbers. “258…259…260!” Soarin’ didn’t even give a second thought to what he might find on the other side of the door as he slid the key in and shoved it open. He burst through the door to find…..nothing. The room was pretty empty, completely devoid of another pony. Two sets of dressers and desks sat respectively on opposite sides underneath bunk beads. All that sat in the room was a single, closed and unpacked suitcase by the desk on the right side of the room. Soarin’ gave a quick thought to inspect it, but remembered his time constraint. Tossing the suitcases up onto his bunk, he rushed to the window. “I guess I’ll have to meet my roommate later,” he thought to himself. Wasting no time, he unlatched it and jumped out, flying as fast as he could to the Cloudiseum. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Soarin’ could hear hundreds of voices swirl into a deafening wave as he floated down in front of one of the Cloudiseum’s many entrances. The doors were still open, leading to a stairway. “Looks like I made it,” Soarin’ sighed, relaxing a little. He quickly climbed his way to the top of the glassy cloud stairs, eyes growing wide at the sight. The place was ginormous, with thousands of seats around the circular arena. He quickly scanned for an open spot, settling on the second to last on the end of the row near the stair exit. He had enough excitement for one day, and wasn’t quite ready to be social. The chair choice had empty seats to either side. He allowed himself a moment to take everything in. The sun was beating down feverously, causing intense glares off the glassy structure. Every part of the building had been made with a material unfamiliar to Soarin’. He thought it looked most similar to the ice he had seen at the cloud factories, but it had a rough, warm texture. Oddly shaped creatures patterned the top ring of the arena, spewing rainbow liquid from their sculpted mouths into rivulets that ran down to the ground between seats, pooling into a ring at the bottom. The bottom part below the seats, which Soarin’ observed as the stage of the arena, looked like the cloud walking paths he had been on early. However, in the dead center of it all was a wide open hole of nothing but air. Soarin’ shifted up in his seat, and truly saw the ground from a bird’s eye view. Still overwhelmed at the complexity of the Cloudiseum, Soarin’ sunk back down in his seat. He was about to stretch out his tired wings over the empty seat, when a gold streak flew from the stairwell and plopped down in the seat next to him. “Woah there partner,” the stallion said, removing Soarin’s wing from around the back of the seat. “You have to at least ask my name before you try to pull a move on me.” “For the love of….alright, what’s your name?” Soarin’ said, giving up. “The name’s Blaze,” he replied, polishing his hoof on his chest. “And it looks like I got here too early.” “The ceremony is going to start any second,” Soarin’ stated. “Weren’t you worried about being late?” “Psssh, whatever. I wasn’t even going to go to this stupid thing anyways,” Blaze responded noncommittally. Soarin’ smacked his forehead. This last thing he needed was a dingus like this during the ceremony. Soarin’s eyes darted to the right. Blaze was a lot smaller than he was. His orange, sunburst hair shined fiercely with his golden coat. His ruby red eyes gazed out at nothing in particular, as he continued to look bored. A ruffle of his wings revealed intense muscles, bulging out in complement to his toned body. Soarin’s eyes veered south to find a cutie mark that looked a lot like a lightning bolt on fire. Blaze turned his head and caught Soarin’ looking at his flank. “Couldn’t wait for me to get up to stare at my….woah, dude, did you already get into a fight?” Blaze questioned, reeling half way through his joke. Soarin’ realized that his bruised black eye was opposite to where Blaze was sitting. An embarrassed look fell upon Soarin’s face as he quickly turned away. “Not exactly…” he said slowly. Blaze didn’t hear him. “A fight before the first day of training? That’s badass!” Blaze turned and smirked, “I think I can get past you ogling over my awesomeness if you tell me the story!” Soarin’ raised a hoof to the back of his head, still avoiding eye contact. “Well…I kind of had a disagreement with a doorknob.” Blaze’s face scrunched up in confusion. “Well you see….I kind of….” Soarin’ staggered, unsure of how to explain his own misfortune. Sighing loudly, he decided to just say it. “I slipped on my towel on my way out of the shower and fell face first into the doorknob.” There was an awkward pause. Struggling to keep a straight face, Blaze burst out laughing. “You….shower….towel….doorknob….” he sputtered out between laughing fits. “That is the most priceless thing I think I have ever heard! Wait till everyone finds out…” Blaze cut himself off, realizing he didn’t know Soarin’s name. “Uh so, awkward question, but what’s your name?” “Ohhh no, I’m not telling you,” Soarin’ grinned. “I’ll leave you alone if you tell me.” Soarin’ mulled over the proposal. “Fine, it’s Soarin’.” “Alright,” Blaze answered quickly. There was a long pause. Soarin’ had figured he was actually keeping his promise, when he spoke up again. “Yeah…..I’m not gunna leave you alone.” “Ughh….Celestia help me,” Soarin’ cried, covering his face with his hooves and sinking lower into his chair. “Would ya quit your whining?” Blaze giggled, amused. “This stupid ceremony is about to start.”