Sour Grapes poured through her closet looking for things to wear. In addition to what Rarity was making it was best to be prepared… travel on an airship really sounded… breezy. She remembered what it was like flying on a pegasus-pulled chariot and hoped that airships had lots of passenger space down below. True, she was fine, as long as she didn’t look down, but she didn’t relish the thought of tossing her cookies, or having a panic attack en route.
She picked up a clipboard and made a note for stomach-settling remedies from the apothecary. No sense in courting disaster needlessly. If she had it she would probably not need it. If she didn’t have it, then she WOULD need it. A soft cough turned her attention to the door where the town’s resident librarian stood with an absolutely adorkable awkward smile on her face.
“Sorry. I knocked but the door was open and nopony answered so…” She shrugged helplessly before holding up a small booklet that looked homemade. “I heard you were heading to the Griffon Kingdom and thought that maybe… you might want some cheat-sheets to smooth things a little?”
Grapes raised an eyebrow. “Griffon Kingdom?” Grapes asked, tilting her head, taking the book, curiously. “You made this yourself, huh? Might come in handy, even so, thanks, Twilight.”
“Weeeeell, after Gilda's visit I got really curious about her homeland and got Bygone Griffons of Greatness. There was a LOT of amazing history in there… although it’s not what we would call current reading. Kinda ends abruptly but I’m sure a lot of this will still be relevant. Just a warning though. Equestria doesn’t have an embassy in griffon lands, so you’ll be pretty much a the mercy of the local courts and laws.” Twilight looked at the clipboard safely in the crook of Grapes’ elbow and smiled. “Nice to know you’re taking this so seriously. Being sent on a mission by the Vizier can’t always be… what it seems.”
“Originally I was going to totally wing it, but then I realized I wasn’t a pegasus, and figured I’d fail, horribly,” Grapes deadpanned.
“Oh, that’s a good one. Very nice wordplay. I can totally appreciate good wordplay... “ Twilight said before glancing slightly towards the door. “Even if it’s by Sirocco. I know she doesn’t mean it but some of the things that come out of her mouth are… they make me think she does them on purpose.”
“Why, because some of them make more sense than the original saying?” Grapes asked with a raised eyebrow.
“Uh… sometimes. Look, be prepared, have fun and take lots of pictures, okay? ...Ooh socks. I didn’t know you wore socks.”
“Why not? They’re practical for colder climates, and fit well inside of overlarge boots,” Grapes observed, as she packed the socks. “You act like they’re fetish gear or something.”
“You start hanging around Rainbow Dash and you learn things you never wanted to,” she said quietly.
“So some pervert has sullied the perfectly innocent and practical sock into something not so innocent? Shame on them. Sure a pony can seem more… well… alluring clothed, when one goes about in just one’s coat all the time, but that’s no reason to make a perfectly practical tube of knitted wool into something completely naughty,” Grapes said, with a roll of her eyes.
“I KNOW!” Twilight said with a tone of astonished agreement. “And basic farm tack is also in all of that too. I never knew so many ordinary things could be fetishised.”
“Ponies are weird,” Grapes said, nodding.
“I think Rarity is just ‘into’ multiple layers of clothing. She seems to get a lot of… enjoyment out of putting more and more layers on ponies. It’s like reverse-nudity.”
“Well when actual nudity is pretty much every-day wear…” Grapes uttered with an eyeroll. “Yet again reaffirming the weirdness quotient of ponies. Makes a pony wonder why they even leave the house, some days don’t it? But then… life was much more empty when all one had was books.” Grapes casually poked Twilight in the side with a smirk. “Oh, I’m not talking about you. Well. Not just you. I’m including myself in there too.”
“I guess it’s true. We, meaning you, other bookish ponies, and I, are rather sheltered. Books can only tell us so much. It’s why I want you to tell me what it’s like there. I know you aren’t going anywhere near the original city but please write me some details to expand my database upon.”
“I’ll do my best, Twilight,” Grapes said with a smile. “I’ll make sure to bring plenty of film for the camera, too. I think that’s somewhere on this checklist… that or the checklist with whoever it is I sent to town for supplies.”
“Who’d you send? Hopefully not Earshot. He might buy the fanciest and most expensive cameras and film because he thought they were the best,” she chuckled and shook her head. “Wonderful colt but he buys things like a colt would… which is appropriate I suppose.”
“I sent Queenie,” Grapes said with a nod. “She’s as frugal and practical as I am.”
“Good to know. Um… do you need any help packing?”
“I think I’ve just about got it. Something quasi formal, warm clothes should we need them in the mountains, plenty of bits for expenses, current passport, identification as the Royal Winemaker to Princess Celestia,” Grapes said as she ticked off entries on her list.
“Did Guaranty give you an expense account? From what I read, Griffins like individuals who aren’t afraid to spread the wealth.”
“Hm… I should have asked about that,” Grapes said looking thoughtful.
“Well if I know Guaranty he’s probably thought of that.” Twilight shuddered as she remembered her personal experiences with the royal vizier. “Do you know he was the one who taught me my illusionary magics… or at least the basics?”
“Really? Why do I get the feeling you haven’t had the best experience?” Grapes asked, raising an eyebrow.
“My first lesson involved a burning library. You know how I feel about books, and when the Royal Canterlot Library was engulfed in flames with no way out for me… it was terrifying on multiple levels.” She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly to steady herself. “Next thing I knew, there he was. Next to me asking why I was so frightened. When I told him he said *Cough* ‘I guess you’re not as bright as Celestia claims you are.’”
“Good imitation. However… He wasn’t making allowances for panic, even though it could possibly be obvious that the fire wasn’t exactly real. No heat, or smoke, for example,” Grapes observed.
“That was actually the point of the exercise. Once he told me to stop, slow down, and listen to my OTHER senses did I begin to realise that other than the sight of smoke and flame, and the crackling sound of fire consuming paper and wood… My lungs were clear, my eyes were not watering, and I was feeling very… uncooked. It was my first lesson in using all my senses in objective observation rather than going with the obvious.” She stopped and narrowed her eyes in quiet hatred of her unwanted mentor. “When he told me Celestia had sent him to teach me about ‘deceptive magics’ I thought I had angered her somehow.”
“And had you?” Grapes asked with a slight grin.
“I think… I think that Celestia let him loose at me because I was getting a little big for my britches. Reading too far ahead in the books, trying spells way above my ability…That sort of thing. There are few ponies who can MAKE you know just how small you are like Guaranty. He always had a subtle cutting remark, or a backhanded compliment at the right moment to knock me on my flank. I DESPISE admitting it but I learned most of my observational skills from him. If you weren’t observant around Guaranty you were asking for trouble.”
“You describe him like he’s some kind of mad dog that Princess Celestia keeps on a leash, and lets loose to cut down ponies she thinks are getting out of hoof,” Grapes observed wryly. “You really need more literature in your life. Either that or a book on tropes.”
“Your description of him actually makes a little sense. It does explain why Celestia would keep him around. If you run a nation sometimes you need someone who has that particular ‘nasty’ streak, even if to handle other ponies who also have a nasty streak. I mean It can’t ALL be sunshine and rainbows. Right?”
“Right,” Grapes said with a sigh. “Look up ‘lampshading’. You know, one day Twilight, when you become a princess, you'll probably want a Vizier all your own.”
"Me? A Princess? That’s just ridiculous, I mean can you imagine? Princess Twilight Sparkle… Equestria’s Princess of… of... of what? Princess of Books? Princess of Friendship?”
“Better than being the Princess of Uranus. I hear that celestial body is still unclaimed,” Grapes said with a smirk.
“Oooh. Yeah. that would be bad, wouldn’t it? I have yet to hear back from the Royal Equestrian Association of Astronomers on my petition to rename that planet... so that we don’t have to listen to that dumb joke any more.”
“Poor Uranus. The butt of everypony’s jokes,” Grapes quipped, casually.
“Et tu, Sour Grapes?”
“Here I am, bemoaning a poor planet’s fate, and you think I’m joking,” Grapes said with an eyeroll, as she marehandled her suitcase into the floor.
“So it’s all of you… well not ALL of all of you. Just you and the Storm-Riders. I hope Griffonia is still standing when you’re done.”
“You act like we’re a wrecking crew, Twilight Sparkle. You should know, by now, that’s you and your friends’ schtick,” Grapes said with a smirk. “I’m sure they’re still talking about your appearance at the Gala.”
Twilight rolled her eyes “Please don’t remind me. I was so CERTAIN I would be offered the once in a lifetime chance to study lunar minerals up close and personal. I’m just glad Princess Celestia actually WANTED us to liven things up.”
“Well… Considering the nobility has sucked all the fun out of everything they touch,” Grapes quipped, as she carried her bag downstairs. “Fun-vampires, the lot of ‘em.”
“It’ll be interesting to see what the next big function will be like. Provided the nobles don’t succeed in some kind of petition to keep us out,” Twilight giggled. “Then again considering the last Gala, we’ll probably be better behaved this time.”
“You do tend to being Pinkie, and Rainbow Dash…” Grapes said with a slight smirk. “I trust Rarity and Applejack to behave themselves, as well as you, and Fluttershy would would be too timid to cause a scene.”
“You’d be surprised about Fluttershy. When she chased those animals into the ballroom she looked like a scorned nature goddess, and you know what they say about mares and being scorned.”
“I know about that. She was trying to make friends with the animals in the garden, but she neglected to think that the animals wouldn’t trust her, because she wasn’t local,” Grapes explained. “Cutie mark failure syndrome on her part.”
“Yeah. It happens to the best of us at some point.” Twilight said rather soberly. “You sorta expect it to happen when you’re old though.”
“Yeah. Anyway… Thanks for the notes. Anything else I can do for you while you’re here?”
“Not really. I’m just… a little envious that’s all. The Griffon Homeland sounds like an amazing place.”
“I’ll be sure to take lots of pictures for you, Twilight,” Grapes said with a grin.
“Thanks. I’ll be looking forward to them.”
Grapes and Twilight finished up and then headed across to the Bunkhouse, expecting a flurry of packing but instead finding the Storm-Riders all sitting at the dinner table looking over a series of forms and little books. all six of them were scrutinising the forms and cross referencing with the little books so intensely that they seemed unaware of the two ponies who just came in.
“I need the yellow circular Four Seven B,” Queenie muttered, peering at her booklet through a pair of horn-rimmed reading glasses so perfectly suited for her that if Dusty were there he would have keeled over from the hotness. “Does anypony have the yellow circular four seven B?”
“What’s this? Go Fish in triplicate?” Grapes asked, raising an eyebrow. “Or does it really take so much paperwork for you guys to head over the border?”
“Something like that,” Squall said as he slid a yellow form over to Queenie’s side of the table. “As a squadron with the ‘royal’ title attached to us, we get a wee bit more paperwork for cross-border work than the usual suspects.”
“Mostly a formality Miss Grapes, but the Bureau Rats do enjoy crossing their eyes and being dotty during tea,” Sirocco expanded for Grapes’ sake.
“But you’re not exactly going as the ‘Royal Equestrian Rogue Storm Emergency Response Team’. You’re going as the retinue of the Royal Winemaker to the Their Majesties the Princesses of Equestria. And it’s ‘crossing their teas and dotting their eyes, Sirocco. A reference to checking for proper letter formation when scribing a lot of official documents,” Grapes explained. “Also, ‘bureaucrats’. Not bureau rats. I’m sure the hard working ponies of the Equestrian Immigration and Naturalization Bureau wouldn’t appreciate being called rats one finds in one’s dresser.”
“Done.” Earshot chirped, putting his small pile of paper into an envelope and closing the small booklet in front of him. It was then that Grapes noticed that it was gray with a purple border and his cutie mark on the front. It’s odd appearance made it take a few moments for her to come to the realisation that this was his passport. It was then she glanced around the table looking at the little booklets each of the other ponies had and coming to the conclusion that despite each was VERY different and bore both their personal colors and cutie marks, each one was a passport. She thought about the standard-issue black one in her travel bag that bore the golden icon of the Equestrian government, the new one, updated shortly after Princess Luna’s return. She guessed that being a member of any Royal Equestrian “Yaddah-Yaddah-Yaddah” meant you got to have a personalised passport.
“Kid gets the short-form,” Firestormer explained before closing his own Orange and Yellow Passport before putting his paperwork into his own manilla envelope. “And it’s mainly that we’re considered a quasi-military group that we try to let the paper-pushers know when we all go as a group to a location that’s not involving an emergency. Lady Weathervain’s options as to what to classify us were somewhat limited when she applied to the government for status as an actual body. The Royal Vizier said he’ll see what he can do about ‘rectifying’ that.”
“The weather ponies aren’t considered a quasi-military group,” Grapes observed. “Oddly enough I thought you’d be affiliated with them, rather than, like, the Royal Guard.”
“Well the Weather Ponies proper are an independant organisation, and as such are not directly funded by your tax dollars.” Sirocco elaborated in a surprisingly direct and flub-free manner. “Individual ponies or more often entire regions pay this privatised association an honorarium to manage the airspace above their land. We storm-riders are more like the postal department, in which our salaries come from the tax dollars of the whole country, and therefore we fall into a very narrow classification of how we fit into it. The Royal Vizier says that the system is just begging for an overhaul.”
“Strange… One would think there would be governmental oversight over such an important commodity as the weather…” Grapes observed. “Especially when some weather ponies can charge you a pair of legs for the right weather you need. Maybe that’s why Guaranty said the system was begging for an overhaul, when the individual weather offices could easily be bribed, or coerced into doing things by wealth or intimidation...”
“Yes. Even under wise Celestia’s rule various forms of corruption may seep in. It is good she has such an expert in the wicked deed at her command to keep such villains under her hoof. Ah! Done!” Sirocco said, putting her paperwork away and examining the small sand-colored book in front of her. “I finally have a passport of my own. When I first came to Equestria I was an alien… and somewhat illegal as well, but thanks to the patience of Lady Weathervain I became a citizen, and thanks to mister Royal Vizier Guaranty I am now permitted to come and go across our border.”
“And I’m honestly happy to have you here, Sirocco,” Grapes said with a nod. “I suppose you’ve all already packed?”
“We’re usually always ready with a go-to bag there, Lass. Sometimes it takes extra-long to deal with a rogue storm so it’s best to be prepared,” said Squall as he carefully closed his rather thick and old-looking passport, putting rubber-bands on it to hold it together.
“I am aware of that, yes. But I’m sure you’d want to take more than the bare-bones traveling basics, this being a full-on planned-out trip rather than an emergency call to action,” Grapes observed. “The little comforts you leave behind for the sake of portability, and weight restriction can actually be packed this time,” Grapes replied. “Nevermind actually taking your go-bags along, in case of weather emergency.”
“AND we’ll be FLYING in a BOAT!” Earshot shouted before quickly calming down. “Sorry. But it’s true. Because we won’t have to carry our stuff all that way we can take a larger amount of clothing and stuff. Because we’ll be on a big flying boat!”
“Don’t remind me,” Grapes uttered, flatly.
Firestormer scooped Earshot into a one-hoofed hug and applied a brotherly noogie.
“The squirt’s got a lot to be excited about though. I checked it up and we’ll be flying on a Grey Goose class airship. Good and sturdy for long-distance travel. You’ll hardly be aware of any distance between us and the world, Sour Grapes.”
“Which is why I’ll be staying away from any windows that have a view of ‘down’,” Grapes said with a sigh.
“That just about covers the whole ship.”
“The whole ship has floor to ceiling windows?” Grapes asked. “Those kinds of windows you can’t help but look down. Not just out at the horizon, but DOWN.”
“That’s pretty unlikely, Sour Grapes,” Twilight observed as she looked over Queenie’s shoulder to her paperwork. “An airship with nothing but glass windows for a hull would be structurally unsound and without a plethora of cost-prohibitive anti-breakage spells, would never be approved for lift-off. By the way, you have REALLY nice cursive, Queenie.”
“Thank you, Twilight. From a scholar of your fussiness I take that as a compliment.”
“Hm… I should check my passport,” Grapes said, trotting out of the bunkhouse.
“That… would be a good idea.” Twilight said turning her attention to Grapes, causing her to pause. “Now that you’re getting a position with the government you may have a few more little boxes to tick off on the travel forms. Town Hall should have what you need. Just head down Corridor B and third door on the left is where Dotted Line’s office is. He should be able to set you up.”
“Thanks, Twilight,” Grapes said with a nod, before heading to her house to look for her paperwork.
It took time to head into town and back, but thanks to Twilight’s advice she was able to get in and out of town hall in what she considered record time. She had enough time to get all her “detail shopping” done before the shops closed for the day. By the time Sour Grapes got back to her property she was feeling downright productive, considering she had spent a day without dealing with any farm-related work.
She opened her mailbox to check to see if anything had arrived when she heard a soft cough from behind her. She turned to see an ash-gray pegasus with hair so yellow it could have been used as a signal flare. Completing his ensemble, he wore a black travel harness, black saddlebags and a black pillbox hat with a small visor. He smiled awkwardly and nodded.
“Sorry to interrupt, but are you Sour Grapes?”
“Yes, I am,” Grapes said cautiously. “How can I help you?”
“Special delivery for Sour Grapes of Grapevine Hills.” He turned away for a moment and rummaged through his black saddlebags and pulled out a small package, bound in a shiny-black paper with a silver string and a big yellow wax seal. Immediately he gave it to her and then moved a pitch black and silver clipboard in front of her; its payload a very short stack of black paper covered in silver script.
“Would you kindly sign here, here, here, here, initial here, sign here, and here?"
Grapes did so, grumbling about bureaucracy, while marveling at the rather nifty pen.
“Everything to order?” Grapes asked.
“Yes. This seems to be completely in order.” the pegasus said, checking over where her gold-colored ink shone upon the ebon stationary. “Between you and me, the ‘Starless Courier’ runs always creep me out but at least it pays well.”
“‘Starless Courier’?” Grapes asked raising an eyebrow. “Is the Grand Vizier somehow involved in that?”
“The rules expressly say that I can neither confirm nor deny the hoof of any specific high-level member of the Royal Court is involved in this delivery. However I will say that when you have to sign black paper for a black package then you know that it came from up on high and positively, absolutely HAD to be in your care by yesterday.”
“I’ll take that as a ‘yes’. The whole thing is so very dramatic, it just screams ‘Guaranty’,” Grapes observed drolly. “Good day to you, kind sir, and thank you for your prompt service.”
“You're very welcome,” he replied before pushing a small gem on his harness and instantly vanishing in a surprisingly muted flash of teleportation.
“Twilight probably hates that enchantment,” Grapes observed, and trotted back to the bunkhouse. “Hello, ponies, I got my papers updated, and a nifty package. Apparently it needed to be in my hooves yesterday, because it was sent to me via a very dramatic courier service with a stealthy teleportation gem.”
“Ooooh.” Queenie cooed, looking at the package. “That’s a Starless Courier package. You get one of those you KNOW it can only be ignored at your own peril.”
“Yeah, yeah. Very dramatic,” Grapes said looking at the seal, then prying it open with hoof and magic to see what the package contained. “Don’t know what makes me so special to get such a package.”
“Be thankful you are special. If anypony else tried opening one of those…” Queenie trailed off and then made a short huff of air. “One of our guest rooms has been permanently designated a smoking suite because we never got the smell of charr from the air.”
Grapes raised an eyebrow at that, then eyed the package again, and finished opening the package. Inside was a small box that contained a letter, several scrolls made from a silvery gray paper, a necklace with a large ring attached, a number of curious metallic discs she had never seen before and a new passport, this one bearing her colors, cutie mark and the marks of the two royal sisters.
“Dear Sour Grapes. I have been informed by our royal vizier that you now bear the title of Royal Winemaker to the Thrones and need proof to present to the Griffon Empire. Therefore it falls to me to drop every - important - thing I was doing beforehand and deal with the finalities of paperwork and all else attached to your new titles.
So, on behalf of Princess Celestia the Undimmed and Princess Luna the Enshrouded, it is my pleasure to send into your capable hooves the following:
One Royal passport, complete with all your previous travel records pre-transferred over. Thank you for simplifying my task here by not really going anywhere before this point.
One Royal seal, wearable either upon your horn or about your neck with the necklace provided. Either way, bearing this gives you the authority to speak as the voice of either Princess Celestia or Princess Luna on matters within your field of expertise.
Ten Combustionite Scrolls, that will allow you to, almost instantly, send a message from anyplace you may be, directly to my desk by simply setting them ablaze. I trust you will not abuse such a medium that is costly in both money and magic, for anything but the most important of missives.
Seven of the very rare ‘Two-Sister coins’ that date back to the last great change in the government in our nation. These will allow you to cover many ‘big’ costs that may occur, however please keep in mind that I will be confirming such ‘official’ purchases. Remember to save all your receipts.
It also falls to me to remind you that Griffonia has no Equestrian embassy. Once there the government may regard you as a very important guest, but still under their laws. I recommend you and your entourage not abuse their hospitality.
Sincerely: Impertanance.”
“Say, Twilight, can I borrow Spike for this trip?” Grapes asked with a smirk.
Twilight exited the kitchen where she had been busy and spoke, “Sour Grapes, Spike is not a personal possession that I can just ‘loan out’ in the same manner I can loan a book or a... a... a different book. He’s got a life of his own.”
“I know that, you’re his caretaker, and guardian. And you CAN loan other things than books, Twilight. Pens, pencils, quills, sweaters, saddlebags, boots…” Grapes said casually listing alternatives. “But I was wanting to bug Purty, but she sent me super expensive stationary that’s only used for emergencies. Anyway, I think he’d love annoying her, cause she’s such a stick-in-the-mud. I should send her a letter to confirm that I got the package at least.” Grapes went to a nearby desk, and pulled out some letterhead with which she kept the bunkhouse supplied, just in case.
“Okay… ‘Dear Purty, Why hello! It's nice to see you haven't managed to dislodge that stick from your rectum. You simply wouldn't be you without it. You, of course, have my deepest sympathies. I’m sure the ponies sitting in the waiting room were simply devastated that you weren’t there to intimidate them into proper behavior. Never mind all those missives that simply had to be sent with your special touch to put the fear of your ever so scary disapproval into the recipient. How ever would the nobles fall in line without your iron hoof?
I do have to ask, however, where you got your flair for drama? Sending the accoutrements of my new position via Starless Courier was oh, so very dramatic. I was both suitably impressed, and surprised to be hearing from you, because the Starless Courier service just screams Guaranty.
I shall be sure to send you plenty of reports via regular mail to keep you up to date on things that are going on while I’m there. We’ll be pen-pals. Doesn’t that sound fun?
Have fun intimidating the plebs! And do, please, give my regards to your lovely Royal Vizier for me.
Sincerely,
Sour Grapes’.”
Grapes giggled when she finished her letter. “Now I know why Guaranty loves to tweak her nose. It’s FUN.”
Twilight just gawked at Grapes for a moment before giggling. “Oh. Oh, you’re not gonna actually… OH! Oh, this is gonna be… Just a moment… SPIKE! Please come in here a moment!”
“I’m coming. I’m coming.” The little dragon entered the room and looked up at Twilight before his eyes moved to the black ‘Starless Courier’ packaging sitting on the table. “Oh. One of THOSE.”
“This is going to be fun,” Grapes said as she rolled up the letter, using her new signant to seal it, then as an afterthought added on a tag saying: “To Impertinence: Royal Secretary to Their Royal Highnesses, Princess Celestia and Luna”
“Good thing you remembered that. These go straight to Princess Celestia herself. Give or take three feet,” Spike said accepting the letter from Grapes. “At least she won’t read somepony else’s mail by accident.”
He took a shallow breath, then gently exhaled his green flame on the paper, transforming it to a swirling mass of green and purple magic that found it’s way up the chimney and towards Canterlot.
“Dear Impertinence does need to get that stick out of her rump. I think I may be the only ordinary pony who refuses to be intimidated by her,” Grapes said with a giggle, putting the necklace around her neck. She became aware of a large presence next to her, she glanced up and there was Stormfront looking down at her with a smirk.
“It looks good on you.”
“Heh. Thanks, Stormy,” Grapes said with a chuckle. She closed her box of paraphernalia, and put it into her saddlebags.
“So…” he said with a little touch of the dramatic. “I guess this means you are now the boss of us on a federal level.”
“Riiiight,” Grapes snerked. “Of course I am. Not sure how ‘Royal Winemaker’ may outrank ‘Royal Equestrian Rogue Storm Emergency Response Team’.”
“Hey. YOU’RE the one with the royal seal of approval. Not us. We just have a mere title.” Stormy chuckled. “I’ve met Impertanance… you’re pretty brave to give her nose a tweak.”
“I’ve met her, too. My opinion of her needing to get the stick out of her colon still stands,” Grapes replied with a grin.
“Same here… although I won’t say it out loud. I’m scared she might find out.” confessed Twilight.
“Considering I just said as much, kind of, to her face, it’s obvious I don’t care. She doesn’t intimidate me. She’s just a secretary with an overhigh opinion of herself,” Grapes replied.
“She once stared at me so hard I thought my head was gonna turtle into my spines,” Spike admitted. “She’s just got this… LOOK that makes you feel so small.”
“No matter HOW big you start off as,” Stormy added.
“Don’t be so intimidated. She’s just got a big head from having all that power,” Grapes said with a roll of her eyes. “Anyway, I’ve got updated papers, identification, emergency cash, emergency correspondence, a nifty new necklace with a signet ring, and my luggage. Hm. Grab the spare daytimer from the desk, over there, would you, Stormy? I want something to keep receipts in. Also, I’ll need one of those new refillable pens so I don’t risk spilling ink everywhere when I write stuff on the airship, and maybe a stationary set. I’ll be buying those, because they’re not an emergency.”
“Oooh! I can recommend a good travel stationery set. It’s the latest version available from Quills and Sofas. It uses something they call a ‘Fountain Pen’.” Twilight gushed at the opportunity to add her two bits worth.
“That was the ‘refillable pen’ I was talking about,” Grapes observed with a wry smile. “But the stationary set should come in handy for my reports to Purty.”
“You’re really going to go through with that? You weren’t just making her think she would have to surrender time from her schedule to dedicate to keeping tabs on your journey?” Twilight asked, sounding surprised.
“I wasn’t just kidding. I figure I may as well try to be as professional as I possibly can. Though I will try and make them enjoyable to read. Just because it’s a report doesn’t mean it has to be boring,” Grapes replied with a nod.
“Just so long as you don’t use those combustionite scrolls for them.” The purple unicorn nodded. “Those are too expensive to use for just casual correspondence. Probably best to keep them on hand in case… I dunno… Mister Squall picks a fight with their emperor or something.”
“Impertinence said that those were for emergencies only, so they’re for emergencies only. That’s why I’m getting the stationary set,” Grapes explained.
“I can only wonder what she thought when she read your opening line.” Twilight mused before giggling. “I do NOT wanna be the ponies who are sitting in that room with her.”
“Neither do I, honestly,” Grapes said with a giggle. “Alright, fillies and gentlecolts, you all need to get your packing done, and be sure to bring your go-bags in case of weather emergency. Be sure to pack a very light jacket, because I believe the capital is in a mountainous region, and the nights may be cool. Additionally, everypony needs to prepare snack bags for the train trip. Any and all insectoids should be either deceased, already processed into other food items or left behind. Earshot.”
“That’s ok, Miss Grapes.” Earshot said. “I think I’m just going to take lunch box of my special cookies along… and maybe a box of honeyed crickets.”
“Somepony help him bring healthy snacks along, too, would you? Just so he’s not rotting his teeth with all the sweets?” Grapes pleaded.
Sirocco gave a smirk as she leaned down and spoke softly into Earshot’s ear. “I will make certain he has a nice jar of Smooze to take on his journey. No doubt his mother would want him to have a regular dose each day while in a stranger strange land.”
“Ewwww! Sirocco!”
“I’m sure she would, but I don’t think it would be popular with the customs ponies,” Grapes observed with a smirk.
“It is a good thing he does not mind compressed bran bars or other such treats. If there is one thing we can say about our little nocturnal brother is that he is not a picky eater,” Sirocco nuzzled him a moment before giggling. “If Sweetie Belle gave him a mud-pie he would no doubt give it a try.”
“Are they good? ...Oh wait. You mean it would be really made of mud. Right?”
“Yes Earshot. That is exactly what I meant,” Sirocco said with a nod.
“I’m not that bad about eating things… am I?” Earshot asked.
“You can be, sometimes,” Grapes said. “All right. Keep all snacks non perishable, and all drinks non-carbonated. It is summer, after all, and carbonated drinks do not travel well in hot weather. The last thing we need on the train are nasty smells, sticky stains, or exploding bottles.”
“Don’t forget to pack money. According to my research, Griffons like those who don’t hesitate to spread the wealth around,” Twilight added.
“...Oh celestial bodies… Sirocco, you are in charge of Earshot’s souvenir spending to keep him from spending all his bits on tchotkes,” Grapes said pointing to the mare in question. “Queenie, you’re to help.”
“That we can do,” Queenie said with a nod. “No doubt if left to his own devices he would have a layer of ablative armor made up of trinkets, gewgaws and knicknacks.”
“Now you know why I gave you two that assignment,” Grapes said with a nod. “I am sure everypony here will be frugal and prudent in their spending. Any items you get that may have ‘official’ connotations to our particular trip, save the receipt. I have some VERY special coins for emergencies, or for large purchases, again, having to do with our trip. If there is an emergency or a large expense, we will need to keep the receipt and/or invoice.”
“If you wish, I will be the bearer of such slips, Miss Grapes.” Sirocco volunteered. “You have commented to me that I am very much the part of my sums.”
Grapes blinked, chuckled, and nodded. “I will appreciate it, Sirocco. Keep up with the expenses, keep up with the receipts, and if there is anything that actually pertains to the object of our trip, keep it separate and we’ll remit it to Impertinence. The other ones we may be able to deduct on the tax forms. All right, ponies, you have your assignments, you have your directives. You have packing to do. Chop chop.”
It did her proud to see everypony jump to action. No doubt it was inspiring for them to see her taking the travel so seriously. After all this was a group of travelers, each with a long list of locations they had visited under their saddles, but they had always packed light and traveled with only the purpose of rescue in mind… well except for maybe Squall. Now, they were going to a place where they would be tourists and she was the one with a definite goal.
“Don’t forget something quasi-formal!” Grapes yelled upstairs. “We are going to be visiting the Royal Court, after all. We don’t want to look like a crowd of hooligans at any function we get coer-uh-persuaded to attend! And the vests don’t count!”
--------------------------------
Grapes came back from the Train station window with the new tickets. The plan was that they were going to travel from Ponyville to Stormfront’s hometown of Maneland and catch their airship from there. She checked the train routes and found that some did indeed enter Griffonian territory but for some reason Guaranty had made certain that they were going by airship. Probably fewer stops along the way or, knowing the royal vizier, them traveling by airship was mainly meant as a way of adding to their prestige.
Either way it was good to finally get moving. She didn’t want to start regretting things now and stop the momentum of her enthusiasm. She went to the platform where the others were waiting for her and saw Brass Horn, Stonewall, and Skyhook saying their goodbyes to Earshot.
“Don’t get yourself killed, okay, bait-breath?” Stonewall said, pulling Earshot into a friendly-ish noogie that you really had to be an earth pony to appreciate (or at least be wearing a helmet).
“Ack! I won’t, brick-brain.”
“That’s the spirit!”
“Now, you will remember to come back to us, won’t you, Earshot?” Brass Horn inquired. “You do know that Skyhook just won’t be the same tribalist jerk without you to complete our team diversity.”
“Stuff it, Brass Horn,” muttered Skyhook.
“See? She either hates you or may harbor a burgeoning crush. We’re not certain which yet but once again, not the same without you.”
“Okay, Brass Horn. I’ll try to come back in one piece,” Earshot said giving her a hug before glancing over at Skyhook with a smirk, “For Skyhook’s sake. Celestia knows I wouldn’t want her life to get boring.”
“Aw shaddap, Earshot.” the pegasus filly muttered, with just a little redness in her cheeks.
“So there is a sweet mare in there… Somewhere… Buried very deep down,” Grapes quipped with a grin.
She let the young ponies get their goodbyes in and then proceeded to hand out the tickets just as the train entered the station. Of course they still wound up waiting a bit while the train’s passengers disembarked, collected their luggage and headed off. Then a little longer as their own luggage was put on board by the porters and they filed on to find their compartments.
Grapes settled into her seat, sure that some of the Riders would join her. She liked train travel, well enough, but it could get tedious if she was by herself. Fortunately she didn’t have to wait long. The door slid open and in came Summer Squall. He tipped his hat to her and tossed his carry on up into the luggage rack before sitting across from her.
“Ahoy, lass. All settled for the next few hours I see.”
“So it would seem. Kind of interesting having you sitting here,” Grapes observed.
“Aye. I may be used to traveling freight but I do enjoy a window seat on a train,” Squall chuckled before giving a stage whisper. “Oh and we have Sirocco watching Queenie so she don’t ‘tipple’ the tavern car dry this trip.”
“ONE TIME!” came Queenie’s voice from the other side of the wall. “It was JUST one time!”
“Just ONE time is all it takes, Queenie,” Grapes retorted, smirking.
“Earshot is with Firestormer taking a look at the engine and Stormfront is taking a little time in the observation car to watch the world go past without having to flap.” The old mariner continued. “Any plans for yerself? I brought a book. One hundred and one new cuss words. Being away from other sailors I feel I have to catch up now and again.”
“You have to catch up in swearwords, huh?” Grapes asked sounding amused.
“Oh aye.. You know how embarrassing it can be to use outdated cusses when you let’r rip? Then again I suppose not. You’ve never had a need for more than some basic ones, but let me tell you it’s a little like trying to act cool when your slang is out of date.”
“I never cared about acting cool. Seemed like a foolish pursuit to me,” Grapes said with a shrug. “Fads are foolish.”
“Maybe, but when you get into them you tend to go all the way.” He opened the book and blinked. “Oh this is a good one. ‘Grack’. Best used when you have something gritty in between your leg and groin slowly grinding the skin raw.”
Grapes blinked and taking the book into her ponykinetic grasp, looked over the contents.
“Wow. Itemised, classified by intensity and recommended situational usage. This is surprisingly comprehensive for a book of swears.” A thought then crossed Grapes’ mind. “Let’s never let this fall into Twilight Sparkle’s hooves. Shall we?”
“Agreed.” Squall said watching Grapes flip through the pages. “Last thing we need is to enhance the town librarian’s vocabulary in that sort of respect.”
“Well. I admit it’s quite fascinating,” Grapes said with a nod. “I never knew swears went beyond the basics. I always thought they were the resort of the less imaginative. And in a way I was right, because the less imaginative won’t expand their vocabulary.”
“Ah but I’ve found that while some words are absent or overabundant in various tongues… I mean look at the Pon-guins. A hundred and two words for snow but nary a single one for cactus. Ah… where was I… oh yes. While some are absent or overabundant, the one thing we can count on to be universal is that every culture has words that demand to be said in anger, frustration and pain.” Squall explained with a smirk. “In fact you can learn more about a culture from their cuss words than polite conversation. Then again most cuss words are invented by ordinary ponies like you and me. Bet you’ve invented one or two out in the rows.”
“One or two, probably,” Grapes said with a chuckle.
“So. Looking forward to the trip, Lass?”
“A bit. I’m nervous, of course but I am looking forward to it. It’s someplace I’ve never been to, so it’s kind of an adventure,” Grapes said with a shrug. “Should have at least one, in one’s lifetime.”
“This from the pony who lives in adventure central,” he chuckled. “Since I started living in Ponyville I noticed that we seem to get some kind of adventure going on at least once a week, and that’s right in the streets.”
“Yeah, but they’re happening to other ponies. Usually Ponyville’s undersung heroes,” Grapes quipped in response.
“Fair enough. Still you and everypony else tend to get dragged into them quite a lot. I actually have come to enjoy it. Keeps me from getting bored.”
“Dragged into them, or made into collateral damage?” Grapes retorted with an eyeroll.
“Depends on the pony. Still, stepping outside yer stompin’ grounds tends to broaden yer horizons. I remember how it felt the first time me father took me out to sea with him,” Squall said with a smirk. “That was when I started realising just how big the world really was.”
“Yeah, I hear you. And taking that first step is kind of scary,” Grapes observed.
“I had the advantage of being an angry youth. I wasn’t about to let something like the world stop me from going out there. You got the advantage of that big brain of yers… well that and yer clever tongue. Snarkiness has it’s way of adding a protective layer.”
“I know. Can be a prickly layer, sometimes,” Grapes observed with a chuckle. “I’m still pleasantly surprised that Stormy was able to get past the prickles.”
“He’s got a good heart that one,” Squall agreed. “He really has takin’ a shine to you, prickles and all. Maybe he likes them prickles.”
“I like him, a great deal, too,” Grapes said, a seldom-seen tender smile on her face. “You probably know how much I like him, too, considering, but… This whole relationship thing is as much an adventure for me as this trip.”
“He really has been wantin’ to spend some of his ‘personal time’ with you. ‘Course things being what they are he hasn’t had too big of a chance to do that as much as he wanted,” Squall nodded. “When the paperwork on this trip is done, maybe I’ll find some way to keep the others busy while you and Stormy find somethin’ to do.”
“Well we might find something to do, together. I’m sure there are some nice cultural things that are better experienced as a couple,” Grapes observed thoughtfully. “Maybe after all the important stuff I probably need to do. Not quite sure what I need to do, per se, but I’m sure to find out when I get there.”
“Ye never got instructions? That don’t sound like Guaranty, and it really doesn’t sound like Impertanence.”
“I’ll check the package, again, when I get to my stateroom on the airship,” Grapes said with a nod. “Just to make sure, and check what I need to do.”
“Good plan. Nothin’ attracts attention quite like black wrapping paper.”
“No kidding,” Grapes said with a chuckle. “I swear that Starless Courier was created by Guaranty. It fits with his sense of drama.”
“Maybe. It’s been around long before that, though. When I was young, some old Naval Officers mentioned dreading seeing THEIR captains getting a Starless Courier message or package,” Squall recollected. “You never knew what that was about other than it was very important and should be ignored at yer peril. Although, come to think of it, they never mentioned the black paper wrapper. That might well have been Guaranty.”
Grapes nodded, chuckling. “Any changes to make it more dramatic, and give it more panache, that would be Guaranty’s thing.”
“I guess it does make sense. ‘Starless’ is another way of saying ‘black’, so he would have such messages wrapped up in black paper.”
“So I was surprised to hear from Impertinence. I did pick up a stationary set, so I will be doing up reports for her. She may find it annoying, or she may enjoy them, and appreciate my being so professional. We won’t know until we get back,” Grapes said with a shrug.
“Hard to say with that one. She doesn’t seem the type to want anypony to get close. Maybe she… nah.”
“Maybe she what?” Grapes asked, tilting her head.
“Well,” Squall continued, rubbing the stubble on his chin. “I’m wondering if she had been hurt long ago and is just having some difficulty letting others get too close.”
“So she’s like me, kind of? I was hurt at the Grand Galloping Gala that one time,” Grapes said. “But it does kind of make sense about her attitude.”
“She might be. Than again I could be really wrong and she just always was like that. Not every pony has a deep tragic backstory.”
At that Grapes laughed. “Could be how she was raised for all we know. Like Coldhoof being raised to be coldly logical.”
“Ah, you’ve met his family too then? Bright bunch, but like polished steel they’re a wee bit on the chilly side.”
“Well… I haven’t met his family, but he said he suppressing his emotions was a family tradition,” Grapes said nodding. “And he seems to be a completely honest and candid pony. His only problem seems to be relating to his goddaughter.”
“Oh, aye, Skyhook. She’s gotten better since she nearly went too far. Good on her for that.”
“Want to hear something scary? Coldhoof said that I’ve become a role model for her,” Grapes said, looking apprehensive. “Me. A role model. I’m the last pony anyone would consider a role model, but Skyhook has chosen me, apparently.”
“And what’s so scary about that? Yer a good solid member of the community, you have a strong business, you get to boss others around. To be honest with ya lass, there’s a lot worse role models than you to be found. Would you stick that poor filly with the likes of yer grandmother?”
“Oh, STARS, no! My grandmother would put the poor filly in military school. But then the way I treated her when she revealed she was responsible for Earshot’s illness… I tried to be like I usually am, tough but fair. I tried to show her the consequences of her actions, so she can learn from her mistake,” Grapes said with a nod. “So… That may be why she looks up to me.”
“Sounds about right to me. Often in life we idolise the wrong souls. Athletes and actors get praised when we should give more to teachers, doctors and rescue workers.” The semiaquatic pegasus looked at her and gave a smirk. “Even the good-old-fashioned hard working sorts really need to have their time in the sun.”
“Well. I saw that she could be salvaged, and brought around. And yes, I kept you guys from shaving off her feathers, putting her into torture devices, and tanning her hide, because all that would be doing is taking revenge. Vengeance is never the way to turn a pony around. All it does is perpetuates a vicious cycle. I didn’t want that, because I saw potential for good in that little frightened pegasus,” Grapes said.
“I don’t think I would have hurt her. It’s one thing to put the lash to a full-grown stallion or mare, but not a foal. True, I once saw a cabin colt take six of the best when he was caught stealing from the coffers but that was because he wanted to show he wasn’t afraid of takin’ his licks when he did wrong. If I had’ve started with a cat o’nine tails on that filly…” he paused a moment to shake his head. “Never pick up the lash when yer mad, lass. You ferget the difference between punishment and abuse.”
Grapes nodded, a wry smile on her face. “Now you know why I took charge of her, while you were all still very angry. Anger can cause a pony to lose sight of when to stop, when one has gone too far.”
“I did get a wee bit more enjoyment than I should’ve punching a hole in that bag in front of her, though.” He said with a wicked smile.
“Better the bag than her skull, Squall,” Grapes said with a nod.
“True that, Lass. True that. Not to mention that it was funny to see how big her eyes got when I did that. Made me feel a little better about how I was so powerless to help Earshot.”
“Nothing like a little schadenfreude,” Grapes observed.
--------------------------------------------------------------------
A little later, anypony wandering the train would have come upon an interesting scene.
"I bet... Two Licorice Buttons."
"I'll see your Licorice Buttons and raise you a peppermint stick."
"I'll see your peppermint stick and raise you a chocolate bon bon,” Grapes said, tossing the candy on the pile, as she looked over her cards. The ponies all matched the bon bon but none went higher.
"This is nice. We ought to do this more often," Squall admitted before he dropped two cards and replaced them with fresh ones.
"Indeed." Agreed Queenie with a chuckle. "Although the REAL winner would be Bon-Bon."
"We could have used the chocolate poker chips,” Grapes observed casually.
"We could've," Firestormer observed before putting his cards face-down on the table. "I mean they're just a novelty to Bon-Bon but they could be a fun thing, but there's something to variety. Isn't there?"
"I suppose. I didn't know we'd end up in a poker match, en route."
"Maybe, Miss Grapes, but you were the one smart enough to bring a pack of cards." Sirocco pointed out as she rearranged her cards in a manner that suited her. "Although Squall has a set, it has circled the rock a few times."
"... 'Circled the rock'?"
Squall chuckled "She may mean either that it's traveled with me as I sailed around this world's land masses OR... she messed up 'Around the block'."
"I dunno. I kinda like 'Circled the Rock'," Earshot admitted, eyeing the candy pile with the look any ten year old would. "Sounds kinda neat. I'm also good with this hand if anyone else wants to play theirs."
Grapes looked thoughtful, as she examined her cards.
"Okay..." Grapes said with a mild smirk. "Anybody calling?"
"I'll call." Queenie said with a smirk. "Ice may be my element but these cards are sizzling."
"All right. You go first." Grapes expression was rather impassive.
Queenie fanned her cards out on the table before her, glittering hooves displaying a combination of the Nine and Five of Clovers, the Six of Gems, and the Seven and Eight of Hearts. "I have a Straight."
“Two pairs, and three of a kind," Grapes said fanning out her cards. "What is that? A full house?"
"Oh, drat." Queenie giggled.
Firestormer tossed his on the table showing three princesses. "That beats my Three of a Kind here. Anypony else?"
"I am merely feeling flushed." Sirocco admitted showing her hand made of various Horseshoe cards.
"Ah. I've been bluffin' with just a pair." Squall admitted, showing his deuces of clovers and gems.
All eyes turned to Earshot who sheepishly put his cards on the table. "I only got four ones."
"Ffffffff...." Grapes uttered facehoofing. "Fudge."
Sirocco smirked and pushed the winnings to Earshot's side of the table. "A fine hand, Earshot. You collected four of a kind. Even if they are ones, that is still a win."
"Of course he'd get Four of a Kind," Grapes grumbled. "Earshot, they're aces."
Firestormer scooped up the cards and began some impressive shuffling for a pony without magic. "I wonder if he cheated. Probably can hear what each card sounds like," the orange pony teased.
"Like how much ink each card has?" Grapes asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Or just the tone each has scraping against one another," Sirocco giggled before Firestormer began flipping out the cards again. "No, I think that even a blind squirrel can find a few butts, and Earshot just got a lucky hand."
"Sirocco, I think you mean 'a blind squirrel can find a few nuts'," Grapes corrected.
The group chuckled and got two more games in before they opted for heading to catch a few hours of sleep before they got to Maneland. Grapes had to admire any pony who could sleep just about any place you stuck them. As she stretched out on the little padded couch that was on the one side of the compartment she smirked at the already slumbering form across from her where Queenie was gently snoring. She then glanced up at the luggage rack where a dangling, dark purple tail was the only clue that a certain Night Pony had found a place ideal for his breed. Grapes sighed, chuckling at how easily he can find a place to sleep, and tried to make herself comfortable to get a few winks in.
The trip up to the city of Maneland resulted in her ears popping several times. When Stormy had told her it was halfway up the side of a mountain she never realised how far ‘up’ that ‘halfway’ was. On the plus side she was still very much on the ground, it was only that the ground was higher up that the ground she was normally on.
Grapes took her turn in the observation car to check out the town of Maneland, as they pulled into the station. She had been curious about Stormfront’s home town. The place seemed quite homey, and rather similar to Ponyville, but it had a bit more of an “alpine” air to it, with steeper roofs and cobbled streets. She remembered what Stormy said about it and she had to agree. Ponies from the “upper set” would no doubt think they were ‘roughing it’ even though there were enough modern amenities such as shops and hotels that they were in no way actually doing so.
“And that’s the hotel where Mom works,” Stormfront pointed out. It was a very beautiful-looking location, with rather wealthy clientele coming and going. “She’s finally worked her way up to head housekeeper. I’m really proud of her.”
“‘Housekeeper’, huh? Hope those folks are good-hearted and understanding about her taking a year off because she won the lottery,” Grapes observed, thoughtfully. “Though if she’s frugal with the rather generous food and entertainment budget they give as part of the lottery, she MAY be able to retire.”
“Oh, if there’s one thing Mom can do it’s stretch out a bit,” Stormfront said with quite a bit of pride. “She’s had to raise me by herself ever since Dad… uhm… well.. flapped out on us.”
“Oh… I’m… sorry to have reopened old wounds… Sometimes I forget that I’m fortunate, in the family department,” Grapes murmured, her ears going back, as she looked up at Stormfront. “And I didn’t know, because I didn’t want to invade your privacy… Though, strangely enough our parents have already met us, and each other…”
“Yeah, they have, and it’s okay about you ‘invading’ my privacy. He was gone long before I ever had a chance to meet him. Pretty much it’s an old story. Hotel guest shows a housemaid a good time, the share a few laughs, whirlwind romance and he leaves her with something more than fond memories to remember him by.”
“So do you think you’ll ever meet him?” Grapes asked, tilting her head.
“I dunno. Never really thought of it too much,” he admitted to Grapes. “I don’t even know what would happen if I DID meet him. Knocking him on his backside doesn’t seem like my style, maybe just… let him know he missed out on a good life. Only thing I’d have wanted to do with a dad is play some baseball.”
“Baseball? You mean, like, catch?” Grapes asked. “I’ve done that with my Dad. Usually during, like, fall, or winter… Yeah, farming life doesn’t lend a lot of time for recreation.”
“Mom did her best to raise me by herself, bless her. She was limited in the time she could spend with me, so we made that time count.”
“Nice to know that she thinks I’m a ‘keeper’,” Grapes commented with a smile.
The larger pony smiled and gently nuzzled her while the train finally came to a stop.
“Mother always did know best. I’m certainly not gonna let you just slip through my pin feathers.”
Grapes sighed, blushing a bit. “I’m not going to let you slip away, either… But it’s time to transfer to the airship. Let’s get everybody motivated.”
“You know,” he said, getting his luggage from the overhead. “This seemed weird at first but I’m actually looking forward to this.”
“Me too. I’m going on an adventure, and you and the other Riders are getting the chance to play tourist-slash-entourage,” Grapes observed with a smile, as she carefully maneuvered her luggage from its place in the overhead. “I’m sure the sheer novelty of traveling without having to worry about a disaster at the end of the trip is something you and the others will enjoy.”
“Well, yes. there is that. Mainly I’m talking about the air travel part. I’m used to flying by wing. This is going to be a rare pleasure letting something bigger than even MY wings do all the work, leaving me to just sit back… or stand back, and enjoy the ride.”
“And me, I’ll be fighting air sickness… Joy…” Grapes grumped. “I’m fine as long as I don’t look directly down. But even so, I may still have some slight vertigo. So… have a bucket handy.”
“Pinkie Pie offered her ‘Lucky Bucket’ from the Baked Bads incident but I figured we should have something more portable. Picked up a watertight bag from the travel store for similar issues.”
“It pays to be prepared,” Grapes said with a nod. “Now let’s get the herd moving.”
The Storm Riders were ready to go the moment Grapes gathered them. Their bug-out bags were over their barrels and each had a baggage claim ticket for their own “vacation” luggage.
“Okay, ponies, let’s do our transition from pleb to patrician in a neat, and orderly fashion so we will have plenty of time to be processed, and our luggage stowed,” Grapes said nodding to everypony. “Stormy, should we take some manner of conveyance in order to make the transition easier, so we won’t be carrying large bags through the town?”
“Oh yeah. The snap-trolleys are always good. Nice little powered wagons on rails that go through the city. As regular a schedule as you can please. We could also just take a few cabs if you wanna look even more posh.”
“We may be envoys to the crowns, but we’re still on a budget. Let’s find a snap-trolley, so we can all go in one trip, and trolley,” Grapes asserted. She then looked back at Stormy, her brow furrowed. "So... what IS a snap-trolley anyways?"
A few minutes later her questions were answered, and she wished she had brought a hat. Not because a snap-trolley was by any means FAST. Oh no. It was because it was a large open cage cart with an electrical engine on the back powered by a great glass “bottle” filled with what she found out were “twittermites”. She had seen models of electrical engines in Ponyville, mostly a curiosity at the toy shops. Nopony ever took them that seriously at all, after all once you got past a certain size the idea of a chemical battery big enough to push one around seemed ludicrous. However it seemed somepony had skipped a step by providing a self-renewing power source in the form of a dangerous pest. She had never actually seen a twittermite before, photographs of them usually came out overexposed from their energy output but now she was getting a really good look at them… and they were making everypony’s hair stand up on end as the trolley made it’s way down main street with a snapping and popping sound (hence their catchy nickname).
She glanced over to where Earshot sat next to her. He had donned that weird old jacket that, in passing, had a resemblance to the Wonderbolt outfits. He had put it on over his wings, then donned a tasteful yet large straw hat and slipped his goggles on over his eyes. To anypony else he looked like an eccentric little colt of indistinguishable tribe out on vacation. He seemed comfortable like this and watched the twittermites flitting about in their glass cage with the keen interest any ten-year-old colt would have. (Although Grapes felt it was an educated guess that he was wondering what they would taste like.)
“I wouldn’t recommend it, Earshot,” Grapes said quietly. “Considering that those things are powering a cart, I imagine eating one would cause all your fur and hair to stand on end, and quite possibly overload your nervous system.”
“Yeah. In the first week of my time out in the sun I was hit by lightning… might have died if it weren’t for the kindness of strangers. Maybe this is one thing I should resist tasting.”
“Yeah. Not a good idea to eat a literal lightning bug,” Grapes said nodding. “So… You seem to have gone under cover.”
“Sometimes I do that, yes. Mister Dusty mentioned seeing me once when we did some stuff at a beach resort where he was,” Earshot explained. “It’s not that I’m… ashamed of who I am but sometimes it’s just easier this way. I get more freedom when ponies aren’t gawking at me, staring and pointing and crowding. I won’t hesitate to lose the disguise when I’m needed but… sometimes it’s easier to look… normal. you know?”
“Well… I think you look normal, but I’m used to you being you,” Grapes said with a sigh. “But yeah, this will go quicker with nopony gawking at the ‘weird-looking’ pony,” she added with air quotes.
“Thank you Miss Grapes,” he glanced back at the twittermites again before giggling. “A cart that runs on bugs. I can hardly wait to write my kin at home about this.”
“Well they may as well be put to some use,” Grapes said as they reached their destination, and were soon met with porters seeking to take their luggage. “Oh, wow. Looks like we’re expected. Purty’s been busy, hasn’t she? Alright, everypony, let’s find the queue.”
“I love those Trolleys.” Stormfront admitted. There’s just something neat about them, of course we didn’t always have them. They only came into use a year or two back.”
“... A year or two back?” Grapes asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Yeah. The old Trolley system had a series of bicycle pedals below each seat. Passengers could add to the speed of the trolley with their own steam but mostly it was just four guys all day long. These bright shiny Snap-Trolleys came in pretty quickly. Everypony is really proud of them even if it’s weird to see a conveyance powered by insects.”
“... Who came up with this, I wonder?” Grapes mused thoughtfully.
“I dunno. Excuse me? Sir?” Stormfront caught the attention of the driver. A skinny beige earth pony in a green jacket with a green pillbox hat with a visor. “Do you know who came up with the Snap-Trolley?”
“Can’t really say that I do.” He said thinking about it before going to the motor and searching around. “I do recall seeing a little plate back here with writing on it. Think it’s a manufacturer’s label. Ahha! There it is.”
Grapes and Stromfront took a look and the four-inch long brass plate that was bolted to the motor. Grapes suddenly felt a little less safe than she had five minutes ago. On the plate was written simply “Pat. Pending Redline Innovations.:.
“... I should have known… A bug powered trolley is SO Redline,” Grapes grumbled. “And this was invented BEFORE he came off that bloody tea, too. But it must have come before he got it as strong as it was, before the Caffeinated Calamity.”
“We’re going to have to ask him about these when we get back. I mean… he must have sold these to Maneland. What did he do with the money? I don’t see him at bars or the liquor stores, or tobacconists and I don’t hear about him going gamboling or making use of… mares of the evening. He doesn’t have a lot of vices, does he?”
“Inventing. His vice is inventing, and making sure his sister has a good life,” Grapes said with a nod.
“Taking care of family is about the best kind of habit I can think of,” Stormfront said while he and Grapes entered the big Airship terminal where the others were queued up at the ticket counter. “He mentioned to me once he was like Twilight growing up, only more popular. A big stallion on campus at Unicorn U.”
“It’s a long story. And I shouldn’t tell you, really,” Grapes said, with a sigh. “Because that’s HIS story, not mine.”
“Remind me to ask him, I’d like to know how he wound up going from magical prodgedy to surrogate father when his parents are very much alive. Must be a doozy of a story.”
“It is,” Grape said sadly, as they got their tickets and boarded the ship.