//------------------------------// // Chapter 8 // Story: Outpost Everfree // by Melancholy //------------------------------// “Well they’re certainly......special...” Shelly’s voice carried a hint of dubiousness to it as she regarded the rail of of costumes Rarity had just spent the better part of the day creating. "Well yes of course darling." The other unicorn replied. "You asked, without much explanation I might add, for several all encompassing Mare-do-well-esque super hero suits for such a gamut of mares, stallions, pegasi and unicorns and earth ponies that I had to stick with simplicity." Simplicity was the definitely the name of the game. Twenty three skin tight suits with accompanying face masks, each with a bright diamond stitched into its centre, each one of twenty three different colours. Individually one might not really look twice at the unnatural tones and the fabric stretched taut on flesh, but put nearly two dozen out together and it looked like a meeting of the SPANX club, (not that either mare there would admit to having even heard of such a club(remember the first rule of SPANX club)). Despite being pretty much exactly what she had ordered, Shelly tore her eyes away from the assorted gimp suits and back to the establishment owner, who was currently doing her best impression of the tortured creator who, having now finished their hectic moment of creation and was now for the first time beholding the true horror their madness had wrought. "Well," Rarity began, her voice slow, and perhaps half an octave higher than usual, "Either way, they're finished now. If I could trouble you to take these....things...away?" With a deft flick and a flash the guardsmare had the rack covered and prepared to wheel out of the shop. "Many thanks Miss Rarity." She reached into her saddlebags, "Will this be enough?" Taking the offered purse of bits into her own field the designer started looking inside before beaming from ear to ear. "This is perfect Miss Stone. It's been a pleasure doing business with somepony else who understands a little about fashion, even though you were placing such a....strange order." Unbeknownst to Rarity who was looking intently through the bits, the other mare was approaching slowly upon her with her horn ablaze. "Can I ask you why you needed all these?" "I'm so sorry Miss Rarity, but I'm afraid you really can't." ------------------------- ”GET BACK HERE!” You’ve heard the Royal Canterlot Voice ™ right? Well, if you were alive before the Banishment Of Princess Luna, or indeed after the Return Of Princess Luna (she insists on the capitalisation) then you’ve definitely heard the Royal Canterlot Voice ™. Commander Cloud Storm was currently doing his best impression of his all time favourite head of state as he rounded yet another corner and barrelled down just another tight Ponyville alleyway. Ahead of him, only barely in sight, three fillies on a scooter zipped around the next bend, desperate screaming just a hint on the wind. “Commander.” One word, soft, and leaden, and the blazing comet came crashing to the ground. Have you ever seen a pegasus going flat out? Have you ever seen a pegasus going flat out try to stop suddenly? Have you ever seen a pegasus going flat out try to stand to attention, legs straight, wings flat and hoof saluting, suddenly? Well, I can try to describe the sound of wings slapping sides so fast it resembled the crack of a leather bull whip, or the earthquake-esque rumble of earth being plowed up as three hooves dig a furrow deep enough to bury his eyebrows, or the plink of stone and dirt from the various bins and containers arrayed in the alley behind the shops, but I don’t think I could do it justice. Suffice to say, Cloud Storm found himself standing a pony’s height below a pile of dirt a pony’s height high, saluting the mare who was looking down on him with an expression which could only be described as flat and unreadable as marble. “Commander.” She said again, in that same monosyllabic tone reminiscent of a tomb slamming shut. “Captain!” The reply, and accompanying snap of hooves coming together, emanated from the fresh trench. “To what do I owe the pleasure, Ma'am?” “I was visiting the area.” If Cloud was feeling daring enough to break protocol and look anywhere other than dead ahead at the rough dirt walls of his dugout he would have taken note that the alley he had remodelled was between the local bakery and quill shop. “Why were you chasing those fillies?” The first thing all guards and watch ponies were warned about during training on trench warfare was never to become engaged in trench warfare. Failing that, it was essential that you had good drainage. Trench hoof was a horrid condition gained from letting your hooves sit in dirty, cold water for far too long. At this stage, Cloud Storm was sweating so much that anyone else in the hole with him would have started looking to cut drainage channels to avoid their legs rotting. “Ah, well...Ma'am, you see…” “I’m waiting.” “See…one of those fillies had caused some…” He was stuttering now, teeth chattering in a way with nothing to do with the rapidly filling trench.”…damage...to…too…GOVERNMENT! Yes, to government property, and I needed to take their details so I could…I could…BILL! Yes, to bill them…for the…damage?” Again, were Cloud Storm to look at anything other than the wall of mud in front of him, (was that a small gem lodged in the stones? No, just a bit of flint) he would have seen the single eyebrow that had slowly climbed up the face of the mare before (and above) him. “Would that government property happen to have been a personally made one of a kind rosewood inscribed by Princess Luna herself desk?” ------------------------- “It’s looking like it’s going to be another great Ninja Night Princess!” Her Senechal beside her, Princess Luna gazed out upon Canterlot in the late afternoon. Ponies scurrying about left right and centre to put as many obstacles into the streets as they could manage. “Yes, indeed it does.” she murmured, eyes drifting over the edge of the cliffs and down into the valley below. “I’m sure for many it will be…” ------------------------- “Ah, well, Ma'am...see…” Despite its impressive length and depth the trench seemed to be filling more and more rapidly with water, practically streaming as it was off the earth’s sole occupant. “You do remember Commander, that along with all inscriptions by Her Royal Highness there is a ward against damage?” ------------------------- One of the Ponyville weather patrol, just finishing her shift, suddenly banked and twisted on her approach to Sugarcube Corner, barely dodging the cold updraught from below. “The hell!? It’s supposed to be a warm day today, who’s bringing in this Arctic chill?” ------------------------- Now all of Cloud Storm was shivering, and it was entirely unrelated to the rapidly forming layer of ice in his twentieth of an Equestria Games sized swimming pool. “It had...slipped my mind.” He gulped. “I see…” ------------------------- “Is he gone?” “Seems we lost him.” “Oh thank Celestia.” Rarity glanced up from her sewing machine at the bang from her front door to see the three Cutie Mark Crusaders collapse into the boutique panting and out of breath from their frantic chase all across the town from the outskirts. “Sweetie Belle!” She cried, rushing over to her prone and flat tired little sister, “Where on earth have you been?” Weakly, Sweetie looked up at her sister in confusion, “At Sweet Apple Acres with Applebloom and Scootaloo, I told you sis…” The older unicorn tilted her head to the side and hummed slightly, “Did you? I can’t seem to remember anything since I got up this morning.”