//------------------------------// // Sunshines // Story: Lovely Days // by WritingSpirit //------------------------------// "There is something curiously boring about somebody else's happiness." from A Brave New World by Aldous Huxley . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . "Sunshines to Equestria! Lovely day, isn't it, Flim?" "A wonderfully lovely day, Flam! Sunshines to Equestria!" "Hear ye, for we, the Flim Flam brothers, are here to make sure that our lovely ladies and gracious gentlecolts listening right now are in the know!" "Certainly! Today's headlines: the Sweet Apples Corporation celebrates the fifth anniversary since it's inception. Chief executive Applejack will make announcements regarding future endeavors and will also hold a session to receive feedback from both buyers and staff. So if you have any concerns, please head down to the Twilight District right now! Also, the Fillydelphia city council has finally opened their railway stations after several months of renovations! Heard it was quite the sight, Flim!" "Indeed it was, Flam! Now, onto the weather! Today is, once again, an entire day of warm sunshine! Go outside! Have a morning jog! Feel the warmth of our Highness's brilliant sun! In fact, I could sure use a jog myself! How about you, Flam?" "No better way to start the day, I would say! Even better news, do you, Flim, know the results of the Happiness Index?" "Oh, what I would give to know it! What is it, Flam?" "Well, Flim, I'm proud to say that Equestria has, once again, continued the streak of an astounding hundred percent!!" "Astounding, Flam! Hundred percent on the Index yet again! Good to know that our listeners out there are having a jolly good time!!" "And we, the Flim Flam brothers, are having a jolly good time as well! Stay tuned next time on the Flim Flam Rodeo Breakfast Show, right here on Equestria National Radio! Once again, Sunshines to Equestria, to all our listeners as well! Have a lovely day!" . . . . . . . . . . Lyra Heartstrings was not a morning pony. That is not to say that she loathed mornings. In fact, she absolutely adored everything about mornings! The creeping warmth of the sunshine, the ethereal expanse of the blue sky, the sweet calls of birds, the freshness of the air enveloping the room she slept in; all of it were just a few of her favorite things about mornings. Even if she actually hated mornings, she could find little room to complain. After all, it's in the nature of the sun to rise and announce its arrival to the waking world. Still, Lyra Heartstrings was not a morning pony. The millionth groan of the day was a healthy sign of that. One hoof slumping off the side of her bed, she tried to reach for the bottom of the abyss, though she found it faster than she believed she would. Groggily, she heaved herself off the bed, yawning as she stretched her rear hooves, then her front. It was sensational, feeling every tissue, tendon and muscle tingling wonderfully in her, satisfaction washing out from her mouth in a deep, relaxed sigh. Sated she was, definitely, though not quite enough to wipe the frown off her face. Another yawn and a shower fared better for her. Strutting out of her bathroom, she found herself humming the jingle for Jubilee's Cherry Gum. She can't quite make out the words — something something sweet and chewy, something Cherry Jubilee — but it was definitely an earworm of a song to be reckoned with. Wiping herself dry with a towel, she took a glance at the mirror, smiling at her now-neater self. "Sunshines, you cutie," she cooed to her reflection, stifling a giggle. "Why, sunshines to you as well, me!" A snort escaped the clutches of her throat as Lyra tossed her towel aside and fell back onto the bed. With a hum of delight, she snuggled in her soft pillows and warm covers, her tail swinging side to side. She sighed, glancing dreamily up at the ceiling, which lazily fell to the waiting day outside her window. "If only the day could wait a little longer," she murmured to herself. "Sunshines, Lyra. Had a good rest, I presume?" Sitting up and turning around towards the energetic voice, Lyra smiled as she saw her FERRA floating towards her. FERRA (abbreviated from Friendly and Engaging Roaming Robot Attendee) was the latest domestic robot to be manufactured by Starswirl Incorporated. It was spherical, about the size of an average pony's head and plated in the finest brass, with an indent that held it's singular eye in the center, two flexible triple-pincer claws for arms at its sides and a circular gap at the bottom revealing a rough, purple crystal it was holding within amid its gears, coils, wires and pistons. Being magic crystallized into a rigid form, it emitted a diverging beam of violet that allowed it to float in mid-air, roaming around a given home as it does the endless things the company proclaims it can do: greeting its owners, making coffee, cleaning the house, even tuning in to the radio. With all those promises bundled into one, it's no wonder that every stallion and mare waited in lines just to get their itchy hooves on these robots, Lyra being no exception. "Sunshines, FERRA," she greeted her trusty robot in return, wearing a wide grin. "Well, lookie here! Somepony already prepared my dose of coffee!" Sure enough, in its right hand, the robot held a warm mug of her morning beverage, the smell of freshly roasted beans wafting through the room. Carefully, Lyra held it with her magic, warmth flowing through her as she took in the smell, her nerves already jolting awake. "Flat white, double shot with a teaspoon of sugar," FERRA said just as Lyra took a sip. "Hope you like it. I have carefully brewed it to your liking, if you must know." "It is. The tastiest. Carefully-brewed coffee. I had ever drank." Lyra then broke into a fistful of giggles, hugging her ever-loyal robot tightly. "Thanks FERRA. You always know how to make me happy." "It is part of my duty, Miss Lyra. I was designed to see to it that my owners are happy." "Hey, what did I say about the M word?" Lyra nudged, putting up a frown. "Remember, I'm not your owner, FERRA. I'm your friend first." "Of course, Lyra," FERRA continued sheepishly, picking up the towel the mare had tossed. "I must admit, it is a terrible habit of mine." "Welp, we're not all perfect. I mean, look at me!" Lyra gestured to herself, the lack of a response prompting her to continue. "Yeah, yeah, I know you have a lot of compliments for me, FERRA—" "I still have a lot reserved, if you need to hear some more." "You might— really? There's more? Huh! I thought you'd," — Lyra swallowed a lump — "Um, w-well, em, let's see, is it about my mane or my table manners or... wait, what am I—! AHEM!! A-Anyways, as I was saying, you might have a lot of good things to say, but me being perfect? Never gonna happen. If I'm perfect, I wouldn't be needing you to make my coffee, or spend time taking long showers, or—" The loud ringing of her alarm clock cut Lyra short, her face paling when she took a glance at the time. "Horsefeathers, I'm late!!" she exclaimed, rushing out of her bedroom with her robot following closely behind. "See what I said about not being perfect? Best example, right here, right now. Shoot, what's the excuse, what's the excuse—! Ummm... Quick! Any ideas, FERRA?" "A busted shower head?" "Brilliant! Don't know what I'll do without you, bud!" Without a moment to spare, Lyra gobbled up her toast and chugged down her coffee, smiling with puffed cheeks as she found her scarf snaking around her neck, attended once again by FERRA. Giving it one more hug of appreciation, she hurried towards the door, eager to begin her new day. Turning back to jovially wave her robot goodbye, Lyra marched out of her house, excited to face what the day has in store for her. One thing's for sure: it was going to be a lovely day. . . . . . . "Miss Heartstrings! Sunshines!" "Sunshines, Mister Jollyforth! Where you off to this fine morning?" "Headin' back for our second batch of milk! Carve me in the eye if I didn't say we finished our first batch in this avenue alone! Ya hear me, lass! Fifty bottles down our first lane!" "Well, you have to remember where we are, Mister Jollyforth," Lyra said with a wink, skipping down the pavement. "This is the Twilight District, after all." The Twilight District: perhaps the busiest of all of the southern districts of Canterlot with names of the reputable and the respected mingling among the common folk in the rusticated, timber-gabled brick houses and apartments along the pavement. Ponies of all shapes and sizes cantered down the roads, light conversations and chatters swarming through the air. There were shouts among the buzz, mostly from the many vendor on the streets craving for an ear at their stalls and a few more bits in their pockets. Some of them traipsed along the streets, hanging baskets around their necks while greeting many a pony that picked their wares along their merry way. "Sunshines, Lyra!" one of the mares greeted from her stall. "Care for some lilies today? They're fresh from the field!" "No thanks, Daisy!" Lyra said with a grin. "Besides, I still have that bouquet from last week. Still fresh as ever!" "Good to know my flowers are in great hooves! Remember, if you need another flower or two, you know where to find me!" "Of course I do! See you around!" Lyra had called this place home for as long as she could remember. In fact, she was there ever since its inception. It used to be a small town, the name of which had wandered off into the distance of her memory, until one day came all the contractors and workers that paved their way through the land, turning it into the huddling apartment blocks it is today. Being here since day one, she had already been acquainted with most who live on these streets as well as the regular passing faces she often spotted around here. She was even familiar with the vendors on the street, already recognizing some of them as she trotted onward. There was the ever enigmatic Time Turner boasting his clockwork machines and brass oddities, luring those of a curious eye with his promises of mystery and wonder. Right on his left was Mr. Breezy and his collection of steel fans, displayed with the assurance to cool off the sweltering heat on any fine day. On the street opposite of those two were Cherry Fizzy, his offers including bottles of his homemade cherry soda and cans of fresh raspberry jam, while on his right stood Florina Tart and her scrumptious blueberry delights, the sames ones that Lyra reminded to savor upon after coming back from work. "Miss Heartstrings!" "GAH!! Oh, f-for the love of Celestia," Lyra gasped, trying to snatch her breath back. "Don't come up behind me like that, Mister Riff!" "Ah, apologies!" replied the stallion that jolted her nerves, known to many as Royal Riff. He was one of the many vendors that she had familiarized with, always trotting up and down the street with the intention to sell from the basket he had hung around his neck. Today was no different from the other days. "Before I forget, Sunshines, Miss Heartstrings. Really sorry about that little scare of mine. I did want to see you though, you know that. Was seeing if you'd change your mind on what we have to offer." Lyra scrunched up her snout, staring down at the contents of the basket. Unlike most vendors, who had worked for their own gain, Royal Riff was one of the few who was working for one of the larger companies such as the Sweet Apples Corporation, Davenport Inks or Rich & Sons. For Royal Riff, however, he was evidently an employee of Fruit Of The Bloom, a joint venture between Sweet Apples and Starswirl Incorporated, recognized for selling serums, potions and the like. This time, however, it seems they have something new in store. Their products were laid neatly in the basket; tall pentagon-shaped bottles containing a reddish, slightly viscous liquid. The labels on the bottles proudly declared it to be the sprightly beverage that is known to many as Alma (or Almae, in its plural form), the latest in the series of Cytosols to be manufactured by Fruit Of The Bloom. The booklets perched on the rim of the basket go on even further; alongside the image of a bottle came its bold declaration: . . . . . . . . "A single sip, huh?" Lyra read out, raising a brow. Frankly, Lyra never did care about these Cytosols, despite hearing great things about them. Apparently, they supposedly grant the drinker some form of enhancement and boosts their lives, thus the tagline: Cytosol, a bottle for your soul! She had heard great things from the previous addition, a sky-blue liquid labeled as Connie, which grants ponies a little speed in their lives, enabling them to do a multitude of tasks in mere minutes. Her boss had recommended her to try a bottle or two, though she remained a skeptic; with all the quirky quacking of false promises and unrealistic fulfillment, it's not hard to see why. "Well, I'd love to give it a try, but I'm kinda in a hurry," she said sheepishly, beginning to step away. "Maybe next time, Mister Riff." "Alright then. Have a lovely day, Miss Heartstrings!" "You too!" It was ten minutes of cantering and trotting throughout the various streets and avenues, sometimes cutting through the lesser-ventured alleys. Along the way, Lyra met so many faces, both new and familiar, all busy to strive in this glorious city. Everypony was smiling brightly, much like Celestia's sun hanging in the distance, echoed by stitched replicas from the purple banners hanging from the golden, gilded poles all around. Their greetings were even more exuberant, the mares giving curtsies and the gentlecolts their exquisite bows, to which she returned with the same. Happiness was in the air and she loved it. Another turn later, Lyra finally made it to her workplace: a three-story apartment building conjoined to a sizable metal warehouse. The broad sliding door of said warehouse was open, its exterior riddled with posters showering praise to Princess Celestia. Lyra couldn't help but chuckle at the sight, knowing how her boss loathed such a sight on her establishment. "You're late, Lye." From within the warehouse emerged Vinyl Scratch in a shoddy, black-stained apron, her magic grasping upon a drill, an assortment of gears and a rusted oil canister. A good friend as well as her manager, Lyra had known Vinyl long enough to know her secrets and fantasies, having stood by her friend's side at every moment, especially on the grand opening of Vinyl's little business venture and her office, Crescendo Restorations, assuring any customer to see their broken gizmos and gadgets see the light of another day. "Sunshines, Vinyl," Lyra attempted to speak nonchalantly, taking a meek gander at her friend. "Lovely day we're having, huh? From the looks of it, you guys were busy in the morning already. Early bird catches the worm, as they always say, right Vinyl? Vinyl?" "Let me guess. A busted shower head?" "Dammit." "You're not fooling anybody, Lye. I've been tinkering with FERRAs for a living now. You know, they always come up with the funniest excuses: burnt breakfast, jammed washing machine, overturned carriage blocking the front door..." "Hey, that carriage one was a great excuse," Lyra protested, though the knit brows of her friend already gave the reply. "Ugh... fine, fine, I'll take on poster duty." "Good choice, Lye! Scrapers in the toolbox!" With a small sigh, Lyra dragged herself into her workplace. For a maintenance store, it was quite spacious, one side blockaded with shelves of various trinkets, accessories, machine parts and the like, the other bestowing their tables and walls taped with various blueprints and instructions. Large coned lamps hung at the ceiling, bringing to light some of the larger robots and contraptions that were strewn around the floor mid-repair, as well as some of their bigger tools in their arsenal. The only other exit was a single door at her right, leading into the adjacent building: the apartment where Vinyl, along with a few others, call their home. As she marched over to her desk, a flurry of blue sparks came into view, coming from a mare welding one of the FERRA's three metal pincers back to its detached arm on the floor. Upon spotting Lyra, the mare stopped in her tracks, stood up and lifted her visor, revealing the smug grin she was wearing underneath. "Seems like somepony's early today," the mare remarked. Lyra tried her best not to grit her teeth. "Sunshines, Lightning Dust," she acknowledged the greeting, inspecting the various contraptions scattered around. "Wow... you guys did a lot of work when I'm not around." "Bet your flank we did, Heartstrings, but there's lots more. Two FERRAs, a jukebox, three gramophones, four engines from the trams, around six or so radios, in fact— oh, and we got the biggest catch of them all." "You don't mean..." "Yep. One order from the guard to fix a CASS." "No way!" Lyra giggled, dragging Lightning Dust into a tight hug, the athletic mare gasping out a single breath. "Did Vinyl know about it?" "Course I did," Vinyl's voice made them turned their heads, watching their boss step back in. Their eyes lit up when she brought in, within a whisk of her magenta-hued magic, the broken CASS (Canterlot Airborne Security Scout), a complex robot that bore the gallant and benevolent figure of an eagle. Along with it was an assortment of cogs, wires and springs which, Lyra presumed, spilled from the gaping, soot-rimmed hole on the side. "That," she began, noticing her friends staring, "came from an arcane power surge. Gave some ponies quite a scare in the morning, I bet," Vinyl chuckled, placing it carefully on the table. "It's the largest job offer we had in, I'd say, a while. Would pay off the bills for the next few weeks." "Makes you wonder why we don't have more of these orders in the first place." "Well, the guard would usually try their best to fix it themselves or get some 'experienced' engineers from Starswirl Inc. to do it. The fellow that came to us probably found the time to grow the other half of his brain," Vinyl answered Lightning's question, letting out a snort. "Anyways, I'll be dealing with CASS here. You girls handle the other orders. When the rest come back, I'll ask them to help out." With that said, Vinyl Scratch headed to her work station, leaving Lyra and Lightning to their own devices. Remembering her poster duty, Lyra grabbed her scraper and trotted outside, once more taking down the posters showing the revered Princess Celestia standing gallantly with her bright sun shining its glory behind her, with whatever text engraved into them finding a million or so ways to praise her. "Witness the Glory of the Day," Lyra muttered out one of them softly. "Heh... witness this!" Scrape after scrape, poster after poster fell to the simple maneuvers of Lyra Heartstrings. It wasn't as extravagant as playing the lyre — a hobby turned profession that couldn't afford to spread its wings in the little time she had — but it certainly did the job. She often wondered how many posters do the princess have underneath her wings; with the warehouse being a hot spot, she probably removed the entire district's worth of posters on this door alone. By the time Lyra had finished removing the posters, it was already noon. The next few hours only promised the multitude of orders she was supposed to settle alongside Lightning Dust. She had used every tool imaginable: hammers, saws, drills wrenches, screwdrivers, wire cutters, pliers, even some tweezers for the more minuscule bits. Order after order was completed, fulfilling every customer's needs with their contraptions serviced and functioning as it should be. "Alright!" Lightning Dust exclaimed, her wings taut and spread out with hooves stretched up into the air. "Couple more radios, one engine and a jukebox left." "Why not we deal with the jukebox first?" Lyra suggested, looking over her shoulder. "Get the heavy duty work out of the way, huh Lightning?" "Sure, though Vinyl haven't gotten down to teaching me about the inner workings yet. With all the orders coming in, it's hard to find the time to even breathe anymore." "Well, we're all busy ponies, aren't we? Still, you've been here with us for seven months—" "Eight." "—eight months already," Lyra quickly corrected herself, ignoring Lightning's patronizing stare. "Last I checked, I'm pretty sure eight months is long enough for a mare to know her stuff." "Well, I'm sorry I'm not as mechanically inclined as the both of you are." "But you're a fast learner, Lightning. In fact, you were the one who said that when Vinyl interviewed you." "Not fast enough, I guess," Lightning Dust disavowed, flopping backwards onto the floor. Not one to leave a friend looking glum and hapless, Lyra simply marched over to her friend, the two exchanging stares. One inquisitive, the other shimmering with mischief. Before Lightning could scramble away, a loud, strained grunt burst from her mouth, done so by the weight of Lyra Heartstrings plopped onto her chest, the unicorn going limp with a relaxed sigh. "Lyra, what are you doing?" Lightning spoke up after a while, wide-eyed. "Glad you asked!" the other mare beamed. "Do you know about the domestic cat?" "Gee, I don't know," she scorned with mock bewilderment. "Do tell me about this exotic animal you call the domestic cat." "A recent study from the Celestial University of Canterlot says that your happiness is more likely to increase with a cat lying on your belly," Lyra stated proudly. "So I was thinking, you know, instead of a cat..." "You volunteered instead! Great! Don't know what I'll do without you!" "Yeah, I have my moments," she declared proudly. For a while, Lightning couldn't tell if Lyra got the hint of sarcasm or not. "So, how are you feeling now?" "Better than ever, can you get off me now?" With a huff, Lightning felt the air rushing back into her lungs, wheezing slightly as she rolled over and picked herself up. She dusted her coat and brushed her mane back, the temptation of throwing a fit within reach, though she couldn't help but chuckle at the random predicament she had just went through. By the time she deemed herself presentable, she was surprised to see that Lyra had already trotted towards the jukebox, humming a jingle along the way with tools ever ready. "You know how to fix one?" she asked. "Not as good as Vinyl does, but yeah, I can handle a jukebox," Lyra said, before unscrewing the panels. "You think you're up for it?" "Not like me to back out, Heartstrings." Sharing a friendly hoofbump, their job has begun. Lyra Heartstrings and Lightning Dust worked furiously on the jukebox, both mares respectively fixing up the broken parts and replacing all the old ones. It was slow at first, starting with Lyra explaining the mechanisms and whatnot, but Lightning was, as she claimed, a fast learner. Soon, they were already screwing back the panels and giving it a little polish, just as the sky flushed itself into tangerine, the final rays of the sun saying its daily goodbye in it's retreat into the distance. "Phew!" Lyra sighed, tossing the cloth aside as she dropped herself onto the floor, watching the sunset. "One jukebox, done!" "You've said it," Lightning echoed, wiping a brow of sweat with a flex of her wings, though she stopped midway. "Euch. Think I've got a little grease in my feathers." "You deal with the grease first. I'm no pegasus, but I'm pretty sure getting some hardened goop off your wings can be a little painful." "Boy, you have no idea," she grimaced, making Lyra chuckle. "Thanks for the cover. Will be back in five, 'kay?" "Counting on it." That said, Lightning Dust sped off, rushing past the door leading into her apartment. With Vinyl too busy on the CASS, Lyra was left to her own devices, this time fixing a radio. She still found it a little surprising that she was the only one working here that didn't live in the adjacent building, despite efforts made by Vinyl and the others to do so. It makes sense, living next to your workplace, yet she couldn't picture herself moving out of her current home. It just felt wrong. "There you go again, Lyra," she mumbled to herself, snickering with a shake of her head. "It's just moving out of a house. Really, what's the worst that could happen?" "LYRA!!" The loud announcement made both Lyra's and Vinyl's heads turn, their smiles growing when the remainder of the apartment's residents and the store's part-time workers returned from their daily duties. Before she could prepare herself, Lyra was tackled down, falling right onto her back and giggling as she felt the familiar pair of cheeks nuzzling into her own. "Hello there!" she exclaimed, the pair of foals laughing ecstatically as she wrapped them into her signature hugs. "How's school today?" "Boring, duh! Miss Cheerilee taught us about some history about Canterlot and Princess Celestia and how she defeated Nightmare Moon and something, something, whatever." "It's not boring! You know what's boring, Pound? The hoofball game that you said it would be fun, but it's not!" "It was fun, Pumpkin!" Pound Cake snorted, giving his sister, Pumpkin Cake, the stink-eye with a buzz of his growing wings. "You just don't know how to have fun! What kind of pony enjoys history class?" "Hey, at least it was interesting!" Pumpkin retaliated, her horn lighting up a tint of blue. "Didn't you hear that part where Princess Celestia fought some dragons to protect a little town? That one was super, super exciting, if you were actually listening!" "I was, but it was still boring! Since you like it, you're a boring pony, Pumpkin!" "I'm your sister, so that makes you a boring pony too, Pound!" "I'm not a boring pony!" "Are too!" "Am not!" "Are too!" "AM NOT!!" "ARE TOO!!" "Okay, okay, calm down!" Lyra intervened, pushing them apart before they could bite each other's manes out, though she had to admit they had done worse to each other when she was not around, from what the others have told her. "You know, from what I hear, you both had a great time at school. Why don't you little kids take a shower, get yourself nice and clean?" "We're not little!" the siblings cried out in unison. "Alright! Big! Huge! Jumbo-sized! Got that!" Lyra hastily corrected herself. That's one thing they could agree on, she thought to herself. "Come on! You won't wanna miss dinner!" As soon as the twins hurried up to their apartments, their constant squabbling fading into the distance, Lyra closed her eyes and let out a long sigh, though a short, deep chuckle snapped them open again. It came from the final resident of the apartment: a bipedal dragon, standing upright on his purple, scaly clawed feet and giving his toothed grin. "Glad that's finally over," he said with a whistle of delight. "They've been arguing nonstop about school the whole time we were coming back." "Must be a great experience, huh Spike?" Lyra teased the adolescent dragon. "By the way, since I've asked them, how was your day?" "So-so. Just typical guard duty, you know. Standing there, doing nothing special and letting the day pass." "Forget guard duty," Vinyl spoke up briefly from her work. "How's things going on with Scoots?" "Oh yeah! How's Scootaloo doing?" "Sc-Scootaloo? Heh, yeah! Scootaloo! Well... u-um, well..." Lyra and Vinyl did their best to hold back their snickers. They both knew how flustered Spike can be when he talks about Scootaloo, his foalhood friend turned marefriend of two years which he lived with on the highest floor of the apartment. Being a recent addition in the Wonderbolts, however, made her appearances less frequent; just last week, she headed off to some sort of annual military exercise in Manehatten, with only written letters to Spike highlighting her experiences. "Well... she's doing great in the military exercise, from what she wrote," the dragon said. "Had a blast — and I quote — kicking some gryphon butt to the moon. Those birdbrains didn't know what hit 'em." "Wasn't it suppose to be a friendly exercise?" Vinyl asked. "Like, Equestria and Griffonstone are friends, which was why we're having our drills together, sort of thing? Scootaloo might start a war, for all we know." "Nah. Probably just her being the great dork she is," Spike said dismissively, all three of them laughing. "She made some new friends there as well, pony and griffon. She also said she heard from the superiors that they might be sent to the north, which might mean they wouldn't be back for a while." "Aw, really?" Lyra groaned. "Bummer," Vinyl remarked, glancing up at the dragon. "And? Did she say anything after that?" "Small apology, some stuff about how she misses me and a promise to keep in touch," Spike continued, sighing. "Honestly, I kinda miss her as well." "Hey, look on the bright side!" Lyra may not be a veteran in the relationship department — she was a greenhorn, both figuratively and literally, if her past attempts of dating were of any indication — but she knew he needed a little cheering up somehow. With Vinyl busy with the CASS and Lightning still taking her long shower, there was only her left. "Scootaloo said she would keep in touch, didn't she?" she asked, to which Spike nodded. "Then let's wait until the next letter. Who knows? They might finally decide to call it a day, pack their things and come back home!" "Yeah, you'll never know," the dragon said, scratching his head. "Anyways, gotta need a shower as well. From what I hear, dinner is afoot." "Keep up with that lingo and you'll be half the dork Scootaloo is." Laughing out loud at Vinyl's joke, Spike quickly headed out the door, leaving Lyra with Vinyl and the CASS. From the looks of it, Vinyl was nearly done; just a few more tweaks and a polish would do the trick. It fascinates her sometimes, seeing her old friend work her magic on all these machines. Lyra knew how hard it really was, having tried and failed a couple of times before, yet Vinyl always makes it seem so menial, seamlessly patching and cleaning up the wreck that it was. "So, Lye," said mare spoke suddenly, hauling her out from her thoughts. "I take it you're joining us for dinner tonight?" "Me? Well, I'm not so sure." "What's keeping ya?" "Oh, nothing important, really!" Lyra said haughtily. "Just that I'm afraid FERRA might have prepared dinner in advance." "You did tell him that you'll be with us tonight, did you?" "Ummmm...... probably?" "And... you forgot," Vinyl finished with a sigh, hoof meeting her forehead. "Ehh... the FERRA's programmed for this sort of things anyway. He'll figure it out eventually." "I hope so," Lyra mumbled, concerned. "Really not looking forward to having a two-course meal tonight." "Don't worry! If the folks at Starswirl Inc. really kept their word, then FERRA has everything covered! Then again, you know Starswirl." "Not helping, Vinyl," she bemoaned, making her friend laugh. "I'll deal with it later if I have to." "Do what you gotta do, Lye," Vinyl said with a pat on her back. "So, Miss Heartstrings, where do you presume we should have our dinner?" Lyra couldn't help but chuckle at her friend's pretentious tone, reciprocating it as she put up the facade of an impressionable art critic, her hoof doing it's best performance of a mustache while her head cocked higher, chin facing the roof of the warehouse. She gallantly stepped forward towards the exit and dramatically looked over her shoulder — an effort that came not without a snicker from Vinyl — as she spoke: "Well, Miss Scratch, there is this junction I'm certain you may fancy..." . . . . . . "I'm back~!" "Welcome home, Lyra," greeted the enigmatic digital voice of her loyal FERRA as Lyra pranced in, whistling with delight. "How was your dinner?" "Oh, it was wonderful! I had a great time!" Seems like Vinyl was right, she mused, the dining table free of the usual dishes the robot would serve. Speaking of which, her dinner was a lovely one. The conversations were exciting, the music soothing and the food— oh, she couldn't even begin to describe how fine-dining-y it was. Rarely had Vinyl take up her suggestions of the more refined restaurants, but the CASS sealed the deal. "You should've seen Pound and Pumpkin, FERRA," Lyra giggled, traipsing into her bedroom. "They're growing up so fast. Seems like it was just yesterday Vinyl and I found them at the doorstep! Still arguing about all the little things, though. Spike shared some of his guard stuff with us. By the way FERRA, did you know that each district has its own independent group of guards patrolling it? I didn't know that until Spike told me!" "What of Lightning Dust?" "Lightning Dust? She, well... she was being Lightning Dust. You know how she is, don't you?" "I do recall you mentioning her being obnoxious." "Not as bad as last time, but she still is," she huffed, rolling her eyes. "Who else am I missing, who else am I— ah! V's doing fine, from what I could tell. I just hope with the money from the CASS that she can finally quit her night job." "You want her to quit her job?" FERRA inquired. "It's not like that," Lyra said defensively, frowning. "I get it, she's doing it for some extra bits, but it's not... healthy, you know? Her, staying up so late at such a place... you'll never know what might happen to you when you're down there. One day, something serious might've happened to her and we might not even know it. Even so, what are we gonna do? What about the shop and the apartment? What about Pumpkin and Pound's school fees? What then?" "I believe you are overly concerned." "I am not overly concerned!" she gasped at FERRA's accusation. "In fact, I think I have just the right amount of concern!" FERRA gave no response, which was enough for Lyra to sigh, her glance rolling up to the ceiling and Luna's night sky beyond it. "Okay, maybe I'm a little too concerned," she professed, slumping onto her bed. "But I have every right to be, FERRA." "Of course, Lyra. You are a friend to Vinyl, after all. A true friend, if I may add." "Aw, thank you," the mare chirped, turning to her robot. "You always know what to say to cheer me up." "It is my duty after all, Miss Heartstrings." "Ah, ah, ah!" Lyra censured her robot like a strict Canterlotian mother to a child. "What did I say about the M word?" "Of course, Lyra. Apologies." "No worries, bud. Phew, I'm gonna take a long shower! Speaking of showers, you should see what happened to Lightning Dust just now. She had, like, this much grease in her wings, let me tell you..." . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Carefully now. Her making it hard isn't my concern. Really, if I'm in such a state, I'd file my crassest complaints as well. Divines above were kind enough not to place me at such a precarious position. Even with me at the helm, things go wrong. Terribly wrong. I still wonder why, as I wonder then: why must such a daunting responsibility be entrusted on me? I bear no hope to question it, should it be my push over the cliff's edge and into the murky waters below. I either wake up a bumbling fool or live the rest of my days as a mad one. I prefer where I am now, thank you very much. Now, let's see, let's see... ah, yes! What a lovely name. I would wish for such a name. Alas, it is but mother's blessing that I hold mine today, engraved and embossed in the tight confines of a brass name tag. Flaunt it around, she once said. Be proud of such a name. That toxic mare. Oh, forgive my ramblings. We'll get on to it. . . . Sunshines, Miss Heartstrings.