//------------------------------// // Chapter 3 // Story: Flying // by Terrasora //------------------------------// Rainbow Dash was rather uncomfortable in her new room. This is not to say that it was a particularly uncomfortable room, because it certainly wasn’t and it was a far cry better than the room she had held at the Wonderbolt Academy, but it wasn’t home. And that single thought bothered Rainbow to no end. This was a Regular Home, built for the rare Wonderbolt that did not own a home in Cloudsdale. There was no telling how many of Rainbow Dash’s idols had stayed in this same house and slept in the bed that she currently sat upon. If anything, it was a source of pride, proof that she had really been given a shot at being a Wonderbolt. But why am I in the Regular House if I’m not a regular? The thought made Rainbow frown. PR had said that the recruit housing was getting a bit full; that they needed time to prepare a room for Rainbow Dash. It had been five days since then and PR had not brought the issue up again. Just another discomforting thought. There was a knock at the door. Dash let out a sigh, rolling off of the bed and walking out to the entrance. PR stood on the other side, smiling brightly, as she tended to do whenever Dash was in the immediate vicinity. “Good afternoon, Rainbow Dash!” PR greeted happily. “I was hoping to find you here. How’s your day off going?” “It’s definitely going. There’s practice again tomorrow, right?” “Getting restless?” “I guess,” replied Dash with a shrug. “I got in a bit of practice in the morning, but—” “It’s not enough,” PR finished with a sweet smile. “Yes, that’s a problem faced by many of the Wonderbolts. In fact, I’ve had similar conversations with many of them in this very spot.” Rainbow Dash’s chest puffed out the slightest bit. “Really?” “Really.” PR paused for a calculated moment before letting out a sigh. “Though I suppose that the press conferences are as much a part of being a Wonderbolt as flying is.” “Press conference?” Rainbow Dash knit her brow in confusion. “I didn’t know there was a press conference today.” PR placed a hoof over her own mouth. “Oh my. I wasn’t supposed to mention that. It’s a very private event, not open to the general public.” Another pause. “Though I suppose that you aren’t part of the general public anymore. Actually, have you ever been to a Wonderbolts press conference?” “Just once, when I was still living with my dad.” “Then it’s been quite a while, hasn’t it?! Would you care to go? Get a glimpse into the life of a Wonderbolt outside of the field?” Rainbow Dash glanced back towards the Regular House, then at PR. “When?” “Right now!” replied PR excitedly. “I was just on my way over there.” “Right now?” PR nodded, her smile never faltering. Dash rubbed at the back of her head. “I don’t know, I was kinda in the middle of something.” “Oh.” PR seemed genuinely disappointed. “Well, I understand. The next press conference won’t be for another few months, so I thought… But if you’re in the middle of something, then it can’t be helped, can it?” “A few months?” “Well, there won’t really be time when the tour swings into full force.” PR glanced past Rainbow Dash, looking at a clock hanging from the wall behind her. “Is that the time? I have to leave now before I’m late. It’s really a shame that you couldn’t join us, Rainbow Dash. Maybe in a few months?” Rainbow bit at her bottom lip, glancing into the Regular House once more. “How long is the conference?” “Two, three hours at the most.” PR tilted her head slightly. “Why do you ask?” *** “Well, that’s a very interesting question.” Spitfire tapped her chin a few times, eyes cast downward in thought. “I can’t really imagine what my life would be like if I weren’t a Wonderbolt. I expect that I’d be working in a weather division somewhere, probably watching for forest fires or something.” Rainbow Dash let out a yawn, only covering her mouth as an afterthought. Somehow, press conferences were more exciting when you didn’t have to sit in place for two hours. Admittedly, there was quite a bit of press present and there was certainly a lot of conferencing, but it was all so boring! Dash had long since decided that she preferred seeing the Wonderbolts in the sky rather than behind a table. PR smiled from her place behind the table, leaning forward slightly as that question was answered. “Are there any other questions?” The reporters had run out of questions as the press conference went on. At the beginning, nearly every hoof in the room had gone up when PR had asked. Now there were only a few, the most enthusiastic belonging to a dark blue pegasus in the very middle of the room. PR glanced in that direction. Rainbow Dash caught something very similar to hesitation flash across her eyes. “Yes,” said PR. “The gentlecolt with the camera around his neck in the center of the room.” The reporter glanced around with the slightest hint of a smile on his face. Seeing no other raised hooves in his immediate area, the pegasus stood up. “Good afternoon,” he began. “I’m Snap Shot, a freelance photographer doubling as a writer since my partner couldn’t be here. I’d like to ask a few questions regarding the Equestria Games preliminaries.” PR leaned forward slightly. “By all means.” Snap Shot smiled, flipping open a notebook. “There have been rumors of an injury. Soarin, I believe strained one of his wings or something to that effect.” Soarin spread a wing, and gave it a few flaps. He did the same to the other. “I was out for a bit,” he said with a grin, “but it wasn’t anything big. I’m still fit to fly, if that’s what you wanted to ask.” “Glad to hear it,” replied Snap Shot as he scribbled something into his notebook. “Spitfire, Fleetfoot, did Soarin’s injury impede practice in any way?” “Well,” began Fleetfoot, “it’s hard to fly trio practice with only two flyers.” The reporters tittered lightly at that. Snap Shot laughed as well. “However, there are reports of the two of you flying with a third. As far as I know, the Wonderbolts did not register an alternate flyer for the preliminaries. Who was this third flyer?” Spitfire adjusted herself slightly, about to give a reply. Rainbow Dash sat up a little straighter in her chair. “I’m afraid,” PR cut in with a smile, “that we are not prepared to disclose that information to the public.” “Really?” asked Snap Shot. “What a shame. Any particular reason for this secrecy?” “None that we can disclose to the press at this time.” “Fascinating.” Snap Shot took a few more notes, then looked around the hall. Rainbow Dash strained her neck, trying to catch his eye without leaving her seat. “Will that be all, Mr. Snap Shot?” asked PR. Snap Shot turned back towards the table, his gaze passing directly over Dash. Then he nodded and took his seat once more. *** The conference drew to a close soon after Snap Shot’s questions. The reporters filed out of the room, a few of them comparing notes, most of them eyeing others with suspicion while holding their notebooks against their chests. Before long, the room was empty save for the Wonderbolts.. “You didn’t tell them about me!” PR turned around, a pleasant smile melting onto her face when she saw Rainbow Dash approach. “There you are! Did you enjoy the press conference?” Rainbow paused slightly, thrown off by the reception. “Yeah, I guess, but—” “Wonderful!” interrupted the other mare. “Fair warning, they’re not all as exciting as this one was; in fact, some of them are dreadfully boring. But I suppose you’ll learn that for yourself in due time.” Rainbow Dash knit her brow. “I thought that—” “Spitfire!” called PR, waving the Wonderbolt over from the other end of the room. Spitfire quickly trotted over. “What’s up, boss?” “I have some business to attend to.” PR levitated her saddlebags and put them into place. “I’ll have to ask you and Soarin to escort Miss Dash back to the Regular House. Make sure she gets there safely.” Spitfire flashed a smile at Rainbow Dash. “Sure, no problem. We can handle that.” “Wait,” Rainbow began, “I wanted to—” But Public Relations had already turned around, her hooves quickly taking her out of the room. Rainbow Dash stared at the exit. “And she’s gone.” Spitfire let out a laugh. “Yeah, she does that sometimes. It’s a bit annoying, but you’ll get used to it soon enough.” “Annoying is right. I don’t know about the get used to it part.” Dash scowled. Another laugh from Spitfire. “Hey, nopony’s killed her yet so it can’t be all that bad.” She turned away, glancing around the room. “Soarin!” she called once she’d found him. “Come over here! We’ve got a mission!” “What kind of mission?” asked Soarin, joining the mares. “Escort. We’re taking Rainbow Dash back to the Regular House.” Soaring let out a groan. “I hate escort missions.” A pause. “Wait, the Regular House?” “That’s what PR said.” “Wow.” Soarin turned towards Rainbow Dash, smiling lightly. “Guess she really likes you, huh?” “Could’ve fooled me,” muttered Dash, glancing at the door. “Hey,” Soarin began, “I didn’t even get to look into the Regular House until two years after I became a Wonderbolt. Looks like you’re a favorite. How’d you do it?” Spitfire stepped forward, nudging Soarin aside, using perhaps a bit more force than necessary. “She’s just that good.” Rainbow stood a bit straighter at the compliment. “Anyway,” continued Spitfire as Soarin rubbed at his ribs, “the Regular House isn’t that far from here. Hey, are you hungry?” “I could go for some food,” chimed in Soarin. Spitfire rolled her eyes. “Not you, you’re always hungry.” She turned back towards Rainbow Dash. “There’s a pretty good place not too far from here. My treat?” Dash shook her head. “No thanks, I’m pretty good right n—” Her stomach let out a low growl. Spitfire smirked, not quite able to hold back her amusement. “Long conference, wasn’t it?” “Yeah.” Dash looked down at the floor, blushing slightly. “How far did you say that restaurant is?” *** The restaurant, as it turned out, was a leisurely ten minute flight from the conference hall and had a rather unique structure to it. The restaurant was a rather squat, rectangular building, as if some giant had dropped a cardboard box in the middle of the airy, pillared structures of Cloudsdale. The restaurant’s walls were made of light-grey clouds, the kind that gathered in the mornings just before a storm. Indeed, the only adornment on the restaurant was a small, white sign just above the entrance. “Storms,” read Rainbow Dash. Spitfire nodded. “Cool place, right? Best food in Cloudsdale.” “I still think it looks like a prison.” Soarin shifted his weight from hoof to hoof. “I don’t think I’d do well in prison.” “It’s probably the look Storm was going for,” said Spitfire with a shrug. She walked forward, holding the door open until Soarin and Rainbow Dash passed through. It was dark inside Storms, as if someone had managed to lift a cave up to Cloudsdale. The cloud walls blocked out light as perfectly as stone did and the few windows along the surface of the building were covered by thick blinds. The only real source of light came from small lamps that hung down from the ceiling. Even that light was muted, yellowed by a thin covering placed around the flame. Storms, it seemed to Rainbow Dash, would fit better in a Daring Do novel than in Cloudsdale. Dash took a few tentative steps forward, getting out of the doorway so that the other two could enter. Her eyes not quite adjusted to the darkness, Rainbow Dash failed to notice the step just inside the restaurant. Dash flailed, letting out a cry, her wings flaring instinctively as she fell. A hoof shot out from behind Rainbow Dash, wrapping around her slightly and slowing her descent. Dash got all four of her hooves under her. “You alright?” asked Soarin, withdrawing his hoof. Dash let out a breath, the darkness of the restaurant just barely hiding the pink that had crept into her cheeks. “Yeah. Nopony saw that, right?” Soarin shook his head. “Naaaah.” A pause. “Well, maybe. But hey, it’s no big deal; everypony trips on that step.” “Really?” Spitfire joined them, hooves deftly dancing over the step. “C’mon, let’s go find Storm, she’ll probably ha—” She paused, noticing the stares from both Rainbow Dash and Soarin. “What?” “Alright, almost everypony,” admitted Soarin, “but Spitfire doesn’t count, she lives here.” Rainbow Dash blinked. “Not literally, right?” “It might as well be,” answered a voice from somewhere behind Dash. A light grey pegasus with a baby blue colored mane melted out of the shadows of the restaurant. “Though she’s been skipping out on me for a few days now.” “There you are, Storm!” Spitfire trotted forward, throwing the other mare into a quick hug. “How’s business?” Storm returned the hug. “Same as always. Can’t complain.” Her eyes shifted to the other two guests. “Afternoon, Soarin.” “Hey, Storm.” Soarin scratched at the back of his head, not quite making eye contact with the mare. “And I don’t think that I’ve met your third. New recruit?” Spitfire smiled. “Storm, this is Rainbow Dash, currently a Wonderbolt recruit on the fast track to regular. Dash, this is Thunder Storm, owner of this fine restaurant and a personal friend.” “Hey there,” greeted Rainbow. Storm nodded in return. “Is she your recruit, Spits?” Spitfire put a hoof to her lips, shushing Storm into silence. “We’re not supposed to talk about that right now. Is the usual table open?” “Always,” replied Storm flatly. “Do you need any menus?” “Just the one for Dash.” Storm nodded, reaching into her saddlebags and producing a menu. She offered it to Rainbow Dash, then turned back to Spitfire. “You can find your own way?” “Sure.” The smallest smile crossed Spitfire’s face and she glanced at Dash. “That is, if somepony’s gotten used to the dark.” “I’m fine,” muttered Rainbow. Spitfire laughed lightly. “Nice seeing you again, Storm. I’ll come find you before we leave.” “If you want,” said Storm with a shrug. She nodded her goodbyes, then trotted away. “She’s nice,” said Dash. “She gets better once you actually know her,” said Spitfire. “Storm’s a shy pony… just don’t tell her that I told you that. Anyway, we should get to our table. Storm will be sending a waiter over in a bit.” She turned around, heading deeper into the restaurant. Soarin made to follow, but Rainbow Dash stopped him. “Hey, Soarin.” The Wonderbolt turned, a slightly confused expression on his face. “Just, uh, thanks. For the save back there.” Dash rubbed at the back of her head. “That would’ve looked really lame.” “No worries. It’s a stupid step anyway.” “But still, thanks.” Soarin paused slightly. Then he smiled. “You’re welcome. C’mon, let’s catch up to Spitfire.”