Vanhoover was one of Equestria’s great cities, even if most of the things it was known for were usually followed by ‘second only to such and such’.
Even then, it gave those ‘such and suchs’ a run for their money and boasted its own wonders. It wasn’t possible anywhere else in Equestria to go golfing and skiing in the same day while the city was second only to Los Pegasus in the number of films and TV shows filmed in the area.
That, however, was over thirty miles away. The Vanhoover Challenge Circuit itself was well outside the city in the great country side Vanhoover was nestled in. Being so outdoor friendly, there were a number of rural hotels dotted around, the biggest of which was practically overlooking the circuit.
Concorde looked around the homey looking lobby of the hotel, waiting with his team and their huge pile of bags while Fleetfoot checked them in. It’s white and varnished wood decoration and red carpet looked almost identical to the hotel they’d stayed at in Baltimare. He wouldn’t have been surprised at all if he closely inspected one of the sofas the buttock marks from ponies who had previously sat on it would be the same as well, if he was compelled to do so. What seemed stranger to him was the fact it wasn’t even a franchised hotel chain.
Still, at least they’d get a slightly more appealing view then the building opposite. Living in a city wasn’t for him and he felt much more comfortable away from the mass of tall concrete structures.
“That’s us booked in.” Fleet informed them as she walked over. “Who’s got the straws?”
“Can’t we just call dibs?” Dash asked.
“Dibs not with Maffett.” Concorde, Ratchett and Spanner quickly said, drawing an irked look from her.
“No, as I said, everyone gets to share a room with the snorer at least once.” Fleet grinned.
“I don’t snore!” Maffett protested. She did snore, almost loud enough to wake the dead, but she always denied the fact.
Fleet quickly arranged the near traditional coloured straws for her team to take and choose their room mates for the weekend. Ratchett and Spanner randomly drew a red and a green straw, Dust then got a blue one. Concorde took the closest straw, which was blue as well.
“Looks like it’s you and me, Dusty.” He remarked, though Dust didn’t react as she picked up her bags.
Dash drew next and got a green straw, putting her with Spanner. Pinkie and Maffett drew one after the other, both getting orange straws, leaving Fleet with the remaining red straw.
As the team gathered their bags after Fleetfoot gave out the room keys, Concorde thought it was a decent opportunity to try and get to know Dust better, hopefully minus a pointless argument. Being in the same room, she had nowhere to escape to if she wanted to continue training in her usual way. What exactly he could convince her to talk about evaded him, though he couldn’t help but notice Ratchett and Spanner swapping keys for some reason.
Their rooms were fairly spread out across the hotel, Concorde and Dust heading to the far end of the second floor before finding their room. Concorde opened the door to be greeted by the familiar layout and dull decorations of a twin bed hotel room.
He internally sighed as he walked over to the furthest bed and threw his bag on it before propping his guitar up in the corner. His thoughts of getting back out of the dull room were interrupted by loud clunks and clangs of Dust’s bag as it was dumped at the foot of her bed, causing Concorde to pause for a moment. He looked up from his bag to see Dust pulling a pair of fairly large dumb bells from the bag.
“Wait, how many flipping weights did you bring? That looks like an entire gym’s worth.”
“Enough.” Dust replied simply, not looking up as she lay down on the floor and started lifting them. Concorde watched her do a few reps before he found himself asking:
“Don’t you do anything to relax?”
Dust paused, leaning up to look at him. “What’s that meant to mean?”
“I mean, you always vanish into your room the moment we’re done training. Don’t you do anything other than train when we’re not practicing?”
Dust just scowled at him for a moment before lying back down and lifting the weights, doing quite a few reps fairly quickly.
“Come on, don’t you read any books or watch TV or ‘owt?” He tried as he unpacked his bag, placing his helmet on the desk and laying his suit over the chair, Dust not answering as she carried on.
“Listen to some music?” He offered again as he put a toiletries bag in the small en-suite shower room, again not getting an answer.
“I love my comedy.” Concorde started, to see if talking about a subject would get her to react. “Me and Maffett have seen loads of great comedians. Bill Hayley, Capall Ollmhór, Michael McIntrotter, Billy Clopperly, Jo Bridle, loads of them!”
Dust still didn’t answer. Concorde decided to lay across what he assumed would be her bed and looked down at her as she continued.
“Capall Ollmhór makes a habit of asking audiences odd questions. When he was in Whitbay on his last tour, he asked if anyone had saved a life and one of the answers was bloody brilliant. Someone shouted ‘I was walking along the beach when I found two pairs of hooves sticking out of the sand.’ It was the nonchalant way he said it, as if it was an everyday occurrence.”
Once again, Dust didn’t respond, seemingly focusing intently on a patch of ceiling directly above her.
“Come on Dust, surely you do something besides this? Do you listen to Music? Go walking or hiking? How about f***ing listening?” He tried, his patience wearing thin. Again, Dust ignored him and carried on.
Concorde got off the bed and stood directly in front of her, making sure she could see him as she carried on. Eventually, he sighed and headed for the door.
“I’m going to get a drink, do you want anything?” He offered as he reached the door. When no answer came, he left the room.
“Sweet Celestia.” Concorde hissed to himself as he walked down the hall. He didn’t go out of his way to socialise, but he felt extremely aggravated having been fobbed off like that.
Looking to calm down a bit, he headed off down the corridor towards the stairs to find Maffett and Pinkie’s room. He bounded down the stairs to their floor out of habit and pushed the door into the corridor open with somewhat more force than he intended.
“Vorsichtig!” Someone behind the door exclaimed in German before suddenly stopping it. Concorde paused in surprise and embarrassment for a moment before slowly peering around to see who he’d nearly hit in the face.
His old sandy coloured rival Wolke looked back at him, slightly rattled by a door being flung open in his face.
“Sorry, Wolke.” Concorde offered, trying not to look quite so embarrassed as he stepped into the corridor and Wolke let the door close itself. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”
“Well, doorways aren’t my natural habitat so it’s understandable.”
“Well, that and I would have thought you’d be in a hotel in Vanhoover.” Concorde shrugged as he said the first thing that came to mind.
“Not this time. I convinced Fancypants that a hotel closer to the track was a better idea, even though Aperto didn’t agree.”
“This must be a step down for you guys.” Concorde remarked, Wolke not looking overly fussed.
“There is less choice on room service, so I suppose. Fancypants always pays for the best available accommodation, which is why he’s in Vanhoover while myself and Aperto are here with our teams. I would much rather be closer to the circuit. Were you in a rush somewhere?”
“Not really,” Concorde answered, not really sure what to do. “just meandering, not sure if I should go to the bar or not.”
“I was actually headed there myself for a break from my strategist. Would you like to come with me?”
“Erm, sure.” Concorde answered automatically, slightly surprised. It felt bizarre to him as he’d known Wolke for several years, but they’d rarely spoken to each other besides announcing their grievances regarding something the other had done on track. And now it seemed they were off for a friendly drink as they walked down the corridor. It was remarkable what accidently throwing a door open in someone’s face could do.
As the pair entered the simple, unspectacular bar with white and varnished wood decoration walls, red carpet and wood panelled bar that matched the rest of the hotel, Concorde felt he may as well ask a question.
“So what’s it like in Fancypants Racing?” He asked. Wolke looked a bit uncertain if he should answer the question, knowing Concorde had been in the running for the very position he was in.
“It’s interesting to say the least.” Wolke answered with a shrug as he looked around the tables, most of which were full of either teams or journalists.
“Being in the best funded team must be good though, surely?”
“Not as good as you may think.” Wolke answered, looking a bit weary. “Fancypants has myself and Aperto accompany him to a lot of events and they’re not much fun, to tell the truth.”
“How so?”
“Have you ever been to a function where a lot of wealthy ponies simply stand around talking about the most boring things possible?”
“Unfortunately yes. My mum tried to set me up with almost all of their daughters.”
“Any cute ones?”
“Aye, some of them were pretty good looking, but I’d be on the verge of braining myself to death on the nearest solid object within moments of them opening their mouths. They were the most insufferable ponies I’ve ever met. I feel for you if you’re getting dragged into those sorts of parties because I tried talking to one of the adults and I think I died for a few minutes.”
“If that is the case, perhaps I should be planning my funerals before each party.” Wolke replied dryly, before pointing towards an underpopulated table. “Is that Lotus Stream sat on her own?”
“Aye, it is.”
“I think we should go and say hello. Rookies should stick together, after all.” He added with a wink.
“Oh, you’re giving me the rook treatment now, boyo.” Concorde laughed.
“Yah. Little rookies need looking after.” Wolke mocked as the pair made their way through the tables.
The green and yellow Lotus Stream was indeed sat alone, seemingly intently looking at a cup of coffee. She looked every bit as nervous as Concorde felt with the race looming, so perhaps she could use some company.
“You’re looking a bit lonely there, lass.” Concorde said, making her jump. “Sorry.” He quickly added with a chuckle.
“Mr Schwade, Mr Cayley, what are you doing here?” She asked nervously.
“Seemingly doing what you are also doing; relaxing.” Wolke answered. “Do you mind if we join you?”
“Erm, no, but I don’t know why you’d want to.” She added, almost with a squeak as if she didn’t intend to ask.
“Well, we don’t know ‘owt about you.” Concorde said as the pair sat down. “Come on, where you from?”
“Well, erm.” Lotus thought, her eyes darting around. “I come from Richmane, where my dad builds motor karts for haulage.”
“Sounds like my old stal with his gliders, if slightly more practically minded.”
“Hardly.” She said with a small smile. “He’s been trying to build racing karts for years, but most of them fall apart after a lap or two.”
“He does sound like my dad, could even be a long lost brother. Please tell me he’s an earth pony.”
“No, he’s a Pegasus.”
“Ah well. Mind you, sounds like they’d probably get on like a house on fire and probably cause it as well.”
“I get the impression my foalhood was dull in comparison to you two.” Wolke injected.
“You’d be surprised how mind numbingly dull mine actually was half the time.”
“Well, I had a fairly simple upbringing in Oldenburg, a simple gothic market town. Judging from what you said of the events your mother took you to as a foal, it would almost seem like we have swapped places in a sense.”
“And I don’t envy you in the slightest there, mate.” Concorde chuckled. “Best thing to do is get a drink and find somewhere quiet.”
“You were drinking as a foal?” Lotus asked, looking surprised.
“I’m half French, I was actively encouraged.”
“Is this the hip, young, cool table, is it?” Someone asked behind Concorde and Lotus. They looked around to see Riggwelter and his blue Fluffy Pony wife Concorde couldn’t remember the name of, as well as Mercedes and a grey unicorn he recognised as a journalist.
“Oh most definitely.” Concorde smiled.
“Room for a few old codgers and McCantage?”
“Well, let’s see.” Wolke started, looking around at the empty seats. “I think we could squeeze you in somewhere.”
“How very generous of you.” Mercedes replied sarcastically.
“Have to love these young colts and their manners.” McCantage said in a middle Equestria accent, though Concorde couldn’t place it.
“By the way,” Mercedes injected “seeing as you three don’t know; this is McCantage. My fiancée.”
“Didn’t know you were engaged.” Concorde stated, surprised.
“Well now you do.” Mercedes smiled at his awkwardness. “I wanted to introduce him to ponies at Riggwelter’s party, but he was busy.”
“How was it?” Lotus asked.
“About as frustrating as you’d think when-”
“I meant the party.” Lotus quickly added as Mercedes seemingly had the wrong idea.
“It was messy and a heck of a lot of fun watching the others make fools of themselves.” Concorde chuckled. “Rainbow Dash challenged Skyline to a drinking contest and we ended up transporting her around in a cart, she was so bad the next morning and even the day after that.”
“Sounds like the typical Oktoberfest.” Wolke commented. “The day after is always entertaining in Oldenburg as ponies try to get back to work with big hang overs.”
“Considering Bavarian beer is much stronger than my stuff, you probably would have gotten a kick out of seeing us struggle after a few.” Rigg added.
“There’s nothing funnier than watching a light weight drink.” Wolke smiled.
“That sounds like a challenge, boyo.”
“It could be if you want.”
“I think we’re the only sensible ones here, Concorde.” Mercedes grinned to the young stallion, who just laughed.
“Shows you the level of madness we’re dealing with.”