//------------------------------// // There's bad luck... and then there's REALLY BAD LUCK. // Story: My idiot // by Marshall_Evergreen //------------------------------// Back in line, Rumble relaxed. He had secured his place as the top competitor and in the process, managed to catch the attention of one of the mares. He looked at her now, storming away to the Dizzitron, seemingly fuming and blowing hot air through her flaring nostrils. Rumble chuckled. How cute. She was evidently a head-strong little filly. His eyes continued to follow her as she stomped away, until he felt a tap on his shoulder. "Hey, Rumble, hey buddy." Came a somewhat squeaky voice from behind him. He turned his head... And rolled his eyes. "Hey Featherweight." Rumble grumbled, turning back. "Hi." Featherweight began, sounding unsure of himself. "Hey, I just wanted to say, that was awesome! I could never have done that myself. I'm not really built for speed, ya know? Hehehe..." It was awkward and humiliating. Instead of talking, he was clumsily stumbling over his words, only adding to Rumble's annoyance. "So, I...uhh, thought I'd come and say hi. So hi." "You said that already." Rumble said through gritted teeth, not really trying to be polite. At least he had the decency to not completely brush him aside. I mean, he had (somehow) managed to get into the academy programme. But everypony knew it was because of his brain power, not wing power. "Oh did I? Right! Hehehe..." Celestia, please shut up! "Hey, but it's cool to see you here, man! Remember our days as school ponies? Great days right!" 'Kill me now.' "Of course you never really noticed me much, but I always sorta looked up to you. You were so cool and everypony liked you. So yeah, um, good to see you here. Good luck with whatever you do. I'm always here with ground support if you need me." Featherweight backed up, wearing a crooked smile, before dashing back to his station, where he would monitor the next cadet on the Dizzitron. Rumble breathed a sigh of relief. Finally! Rumble had never really known Featherweight. Well, he'd known of him, but he and Featherweight had never really hung out. He'd just been another, background colt in the playground; that had been back in his school-pony days. Sure he'd been around, either in class or with the Foal Free Press, but he and Rumble had never been...close. He seemed like a good kid 'n' all but Rumble hadn't ever felt the need to be friends with him. He just...wasn't his type of bro. Featherweight had always been a bit jittery, bordering on over-excited, but he wasn't lame. Maybe... Okay, he could be really, really awkward at times. But maybe... Maybe they could've been friends. Scootaloo had never been a strong flyer. She tended to go for stability and technique over raw speed due to her weaker wing strength. She hadn't been flying as long as the other pegasi here and she knew it. What she needed to do now was strengthen her wings and her confidence in speed. Though she would've never admitted it, she was terrified. If she got cocky and went too fast, she could lose all control and stability, falling prey to strong winds and air currents that could push her way out. Over course, she'd eventually be able to regain her balance, but by then it would have been too late. She would have lost those precious seconds. Grim faced, she flew up and strapped herself into the Dizzitron. She looked back at the line of cadets, narrowing her eyes into a glare as she focused on the little braggart. She quickly took into account what she had learned about him in their few brief encounters. 1. He was confident. Really confident. 2. He was smug. He seemed to put himself on a pedestal, as if he were untouchable. All of this because he could fly fast. Oh yeah. Which leads onto... 3. He was fast. Really. Fast. Though she hated to think about it, he was good and showed incredible potential. It would take a miracle for her to top his time and she knew it. But that didn't mean she'd lost. Quite the opposite. This smarmy colt was certainly fast and gifted, but he wasn't humble. He still made rookie mistakes. His landing for example; he could have easily broken something. She would exploit this. She couldn't top his speed, she knew that much. But she she could easily best his technique and stability. Okay, so she'd a few seconds slower, but a graceful recovery and landing would certainly boost her bragging rights against the young stallion. Content with her plan, she smiled and nodded her head at Soarin, who promptly nodded back in response as he turned on the Dizzitron. Just as it had with all the previous cadets, the Dizzitron coughed and wheezed into life as it slowly built up speed with every revolution. Scootaloo felt the rushing air as it hammered into her skull, sending shivers down her spine, which was being battered and jostled mercilessly out of place. The tension was tangible for her. She steadied her breathing, hoping to ready herself for the launch when- There was a pop and a breaking sound. Scootaloo felt herself being chucked out of the Dizzitron, with no thought or care for her own safety. She was spinning around, cutting through the air like frisbee, all her limbs stretched out. She felt sick. A horrible, dark feeling that she'd only felt once before. She opened her eyes only to stare wide-eyed at the ground, swirling beneath her, the colours hypnotically merging and twisting together. At that moment, she felt a familiar emptiness in the pit of her stomach, the dark, haunting whisper from a ghost, come back to haunt her. At that moment, she relived her days as a filly. Flightless. Useless. Dead. It silently consumed her. She wrenched herself away, shaking herself from that pit of thought. No! She was in control! Quickly, she snapped into action. She strained, putting all her strength into a single, long, powerful beat of her wings, instantly bringing her into balance. She shot upwards and hung, suspended in air as she rolled onto her back. The moment seemed to hang in time, not moving anywhere. She looked up at the sky all around her. It was so blue! Peace. Bliss. This was where she belonged. Then the moment ended. She tucked in her wings and used gravity to pull her back down, so that she was now plummeting head-first towards the runway; picking up amazing speed, but still perfectly balanced. Now only metres away from a fatal face-plant, she rolled over onto her stomach and flared out her wings, slowing herself down before impact. Gravity had played its part beautifully, allowing her to be fast without having to use her wings, but now it was time to retake control of her own speed. She did this by beating her wings once more, bringing them down in one powerful stroke. Now only inches from touching down, she was gracefully elevated, where she then looped-the-loop, slowing herself perfectly, before she set herself down gently on all four hooves. She stood there in silence for a moment, before raising her head and smirked. The cadets all gawked at her dumbly, before they erupted in cheers. "YEAH!" Rainbow Dash rammed into her and hugged her tightly, "That's how you do it!" The cadets all surged forward, pushing past one stallion who stood there, still gawking. Rumble couldn't believe it! So she hadn't beaten his time, but he still felt intimidated. She was amazing! Should he feel offended? Rumble didn't quite know what to feel. He then chuckled and relaxed, reclining back into his usual smug demeanor. 'Let the filly have her moment of glory.' he thought. Honestly, she deserved that much. "Alright, Scootaloo, that was amazing!" Featherweight cried out in praise again, for the twentieth time. "Yeah," Scootaloo said with pride, "thanks!" They were currently in the mess hall, taking a break as they anxiously awaited the results of the tests. They had now been through all the tests with varying degrees of success. The skills, balance and endurance tests had been a welcome treat to her, as she got to put all those months of training with Rainbow Dash to good use. However she'd struggled with the agility and speed tests more than she would've liked to admit. So she had a long way to go, but as far as Scootaloo was concerned, she was on the right track. "No, I mean really!" Featherweight persisted, "Me and the Ground support cadets monitored everything. You pulled off stunts I've only seen Wonderbolts do!" "I know, Featherweight, you've told me that more times than I care to mention." Featherweight and Scootaloo sat together, snacking and conversing casually, as friends do. Featherweight was a nice guy. A bit bubbly and excitable but that's what made him good company. Plus, though it was a tad repetitive, she really didn't mind all the praise she was getting that much. He and a hoof-full of the other cadets had come to the academy not to fly, but to learn how to be the backbone of the flying team. They were the behind the scenes members; the ponies that gave advice on flying technique and team work. They were like what you'd a call a manager or coach; somepony who may not perform the action themselves, but still be able to coach the flyers into how to improve. Like a mentor. It was just another reason why the JWA was awesome. You didn't have to fly to be part of the team. Everypony plays a different role, and they see and promote that. In the end, Scootaloo appreciated anypony who had goals and aspirations. Featherweight and Scootaloo were here for very much the same reason: to accomplish their goals. For that, she respected him. "Hey," Featherweight said, shaking Scootaloo from her thoughts, "it's the list. They're hanging up the assigned teams." And so it was. A brawny stallion in shades and a suit, pinned a list to the far wall of the mess hall. Instantly, there was a swarm of cadets against the wall, all gazing up at the notice. Scootaloo turned back and nodded at Featherweight. They both stood and flew over to the notice. Thereon the notice it read: After analysing the results taken by Ground support, we have assembled teams which we believe to be ideal for the best development of skill and team work. We encourage all those in the group to work together to achieve maximum capacity as a team. Blah, blah, blah... Bingo! Delta squadron: Featherweight - Ground support, Scootaloo - Lead pony, Rumble - Wing pony. "Oh my Luna...Scootaloo...we're on the same team! A-a-and you're Lead pony. The. Lead. Pony!" Featherweight cried in excited disbelief. Scootaloo too was dumbfounded. Yeah, it was a nice surprise to be on the same team as Featherweight and to be Lead pony, but more than that... "Wait. Who's Rumble?" She asked. "You called." Scootaloo turned and there he was. The stallion from the laps. The stallion from the Dizzitron! "YOU!?" "Long time no see Scoots." Rumble said, a smug smirk etched across his handsome face.