The Sour Grapes Chronicle Side Story: The Avalanche

by The Incredible Werekitty

The. Worst. Possible. THING!

Of all the worst things that could possibly happen, this competition had to be the. Worst. Possible. THING! True, Ice Storm should not really be going into mental histrionics, but a whole MANSE full of the kind of powder trash that made her life miserable? How could it NOT be the worst possible thing? She was only supposed to be here for a couple of weeks, then the Hay-Bale Energy Bar Winter X-Treeme Sports Spectacular; co-sponsored by Ponythirst (You’re going to be unCOMfortably energetic), Red Minotaur (Give you wiiiiings), and Manticore Energy Drink (The drink with the STING!); just had to be held HERE! Also, it is quite possible that she may be hanging out with Rarity a bit too much. The mental histrionics sound rather like Rarity more so than herself, but still... Queenie could not allow those poor interns to face the ravening masses alone, without somepony with experience to back them up. She had to admit, however, that when this was over, and she returned to Ponyville for the rest of the winter, she was really going to enjoy her vacation. Yes the whole thing was just one spectacle after another, with not only wall-to-wall powder-trash ponies and their fans... but half the time they had prematurely downed one or more of the various “energy” products and were finding new and unusual ways to burn off their newfound pep.

One of the late arrivals, just in time for the snowboarding competition, was wearing a look of disgust on his rather coltishly handsome face, as he watched his teammate twitch and scoot about. The purple Earth stallion reminded Queenie of Pinkie Pie, but without the her good nature, and ability to make a pony smile. She then got a rather horrible picture of Pinkie Pie on one of those energy drinks, then shuddered at the very thought. The unicorn, who was wearing a blue snowsuit with black snow boots and was carrying a snowboard , was not looking happy at all.

“Dude,” he said, his voice straight from the sun-kissed coast of southern Coltifornia, “how can you stand that stuff?” The rest of him suggested he was from that area of Equestria, too, with the tan coat, artfully messy blonde hair, and a goatee, that gave his face a scruffy sort of charm. Queenie shook her head again. Why did that unicorn have to be so good-looking?

"But it's got the invigorating taste of Hay, fortified with Locoweed,” his purple earth pony companion uttered, looking very jittery.

"I think he's pointing out the fact you're eating it like cereal with the Ponythirst on top," uttered the blue pegasus mare trotting along with them.

"Snap Crackle and Burp, buddy!” The blonde unicorn who initiated the conversation very nearly facehoofed, before realizing that his boot would probably hurt. He just slowly put his hoof down, and sighed gustily.

"I am, like, so going to fire my manager," the unicorn said in a low enough voice that his cohorts couldn't hear him, but well within earshot of Queenie who was mopping up the tracked in snow. Icestorm didn’t think too much of the utterance, as she continued her duties. The Powder Trash clumped their way out into the snow, probably going to practice before the actual start of their events. The blond unicorn, though, did not seem too happy to be stuck with his team. Almost as if they had never worked together, before. Would be interesting, if she cared.

Queenie kept at her duties, supervising the interns, and taking a page or two from Sour Grapes’ book on management. She was firm, but not tyrannical in her order-giving. She made sure the interns got their breaks, when it looked like their energy was flagging. Lastly she made sure they kept hydrated, and warm. Nopony thinks about hydration in winter, but it is just as vital as it is in summer. All in all, the interns were doing better than she was expecting, but she wasn’t going to leave until after the week-long competition had ended. It was the least she could do. And she’d be back in Ponyville well in time for Hearth’s Warming, and able to celebrate it with her second family. Not that Hearth’s Warming, here, was not fun, it was just overshadowed by selfish ponies giving their families a vacation for the holiday… at the expense of the service ponies. She was back to sweeping and mopping the entry hall, when she felt a cold muzzle poking her side, snapping her out of her cleaning zone. She heard a tired-clumsy shuffle of hooves, and a murmur of “sorry”. She then heard a quiet gasp. Queenie looked up to see the blond unicorn from before standing there, staring at her, is if he had been stunned.

“May I help you, sir?” Queenie asked, politely.

“Huh? Oh! Sorry, sorry,” he said, in that laid-back accent of his, ducking his head with embarrassment. “I totally didn’t mean to stare at you like I’m some kinda idiot or somethin’. Aw, geez… brilliant, Dusty…”

“Hey, is that Dusty?” asked a feminine voice, from behind the snow-suited unicorn. He looked behind himself, panic becoming evident on his face.

“Nice seeing you, gotta go,” he said, before scrambling up the stairs. Queenie was a bit confused at that particular course of action. It went against how most of the Powder Trash she had encountered usually acted. She shrugged, and finished up in the foyer. Since it was about time for dinner, she went to the kitchen to help her mother with the rush.

The kitchen was fairly large, no doubt because it’s original designer had imagined grand banquets on a regular basis. Entering the room was like being hit with sauna-intense heat and humidity, and the activity… while at Grapevine Hills Queenie had been invited by the her employer to join her in visiting the local Apiary where she had the chance to see the inside of an active beehive. That was what this reminded her of, one macro-scale hive of activity. Concoctions boiled away, chefs chopped, cooks sauteed and seared, apprentices went back and forth between the stations… and in the middle of it all, there was the Queen Bee, in the form of her mother, Snowen Ice.

Even with her mane hidden under netting and a chef’s hat, and the vegetable-juice staining white fabric of her uniform, there was no denying the beauty and grace of the Glacial-blue mare as she organised the chaos while working on a massive vat of her specialty. She was tasting the crimson contents as Queenie came up along side of her.

“Mmm… perhaps a little more salt. What do you think, child?” she said musingly, offering Queenie a taste of her famous gazpacho.

“Just a little bit, Mother. Not too much,” Queenie advised.

Her mother deftly reached up to a shelf with a wingtip and brought a grinder down within reach where she spun the handle vigorously to add the needed spice. She then stirred the soup again and tasted once more before smiling and filling a series of bowls.

“Funny to think a cold soup is enjoyable at a winter resort, but all that activity in their heavy winter coats…” she tittered with polite laughter. “Ah, but we know better don’t we? Would you be a dear and take these and some bread to table Six, Ice Storm… Ah, sorry. I mean ‘Queenie’.”

She said the correction with a touch of amusement. Her daughter’s nickname had been welcomed easily by the citizens of the valley as a way to separate her duties from her status. Her parents were aware of the joke behind it but appreciated it as a sign that she had grown out of her once infamous “snobbery”.

Queenie nodded, using her wings to pick up the trays accepting some bread from Wholegrain the manse baker, and trotted out of the kitchen taking what was once a servant’s entrance to the dining hall, heading right to the table. A very familiar blonde head was sitting there with three others. One of them being the purple earth pony from before, his magenta mane apparently wet from being washed. The blue pegasus from before was there, too, along with another mare: A golden brown earth pony wearing a black cowpony hat.

The good-looking blonde unicorn looked at her, his eyes widening with recognition. “Oh. Hey. Let me get that for you,” he said, his blue-white magical field engulfing the bread and bowls, setting them in the table. This action caused his three cohorts to look at each other, and roll their eyes.

“So I’m thinkin’ that this time I can use my new trick for the big finale. I call it ‘Blaze of Glory’.” said the purple stallion as he snapped the largest loaf in half and immediately dunked it in the Gazpacho “I got these custom fireworks from this unicorn pyrotechnists I know and this special harness you hook them up to. Y’see first I keep them under my jacket until the final stretch, doing all the routine stuff, then as we reach the bottom I fling it off and blow their minds by doing the last stretch in full rocket-propelled technicolor.”

Queenie couldn’t help but flinch at the thought of this snowboarder with his body surrounded by incendiary devices… somewhere out there, the Storm-Riders’ fire and safety specialist Firestormer was no doubt itching all over from the stupidity radiating off of this foal.

“Dude, you are aware this this place is called Avalanche Valley, right?” the unicorn who called himself ‘Dusty’ asked with a very pained expression on his face. “Those fireworks are noisy, and would probably trigger one… never mind what they would do to you, dude.”

“Aw, it’s perfectly safe. I had some unicorn eggheads go over the math. They say that I got a ten percent margin of error. A whole ten percent! That’s better than what we normally face going down a fresh run at Ponybones Peak.”

“Bunny slope, or triple diamond run?” Dusty asked, eating the soup, properly, using a soup spoon. “‘Cause I think your eggheads don’t know what the hay they’re talkin’ about.”

“Aw come on. they were SeeEssGeeEffYou students, buddy. You gotta be smart to get into that Al-ma May-Ter.”

“Sheoot, Dusty, let the guy take his own life in his hooves. Ifin’ he gets hisself in tha hospital, ‘least he looked good doin’ it,” said the other earth pony, in the hat. Dusty just sighed.

“Students?” Dusty asked. “You got students from Celestia’s School For Gifted Unicorns… Mind you they’re smarter than your average unicorns, but still they’re still students… Roman, you’re going to get yourself burnt to a crisp.”

“Hey, you know the X-Treem Sports motto…” He picked up his drink and stood on his chair, raising his voice to the room. “Live fast… die young… and leave a beautiful corpse!”

The competitors of the room all stood and raised their own glasses in a laughing cheer before quaffing their contents and sitting down again. Dusty simply rolled his eyes.

“Tough time doing the last, if you’re burnt to a crisp,” Dusty muttered. He obviously did not agree with the X-Treeme Sports motto, this Dusty. He didn’t stand up, for one thing. He just sat there, rubbing his head, as if a headache was coming on. The gesture looked quite familiar, actually. Queenie had seen Grapes doing the same thing, when overdosed on Pinkie Pie.

In the meantime, Queenie had been busy, bussing empty tables, while she was out there, gathering up dirty dishes, and putting them in the dish cart that was out in the dining hall. The rush was over, and it was slowly emptying, as the Powder Trash moved to the lounges or to their rooms to watch the replays on the news reels or the footage captured by their team’s personal camera ponies.

The mare in the hat tossed her a five bit piece ‘for her trouble’ and slapped her upside her buttocks. Something that nearly made Queenie drop her tray. Sure at least once a year this happened to her but this was the first time by a female.

“Rodeo, that was… Seriously! Let the poor mare do her job,” Dusty said sounding annoyed.

“C’mon, that outfit she’s a wearin’? Begs fer a little…” Rodeo started with a sneer.

“Dude, no. Sure, it’s nice to look at, but seriously, that’s all it’s meant for. Do you go to a museum and tilt all the paintings?” Dusty uttered.

“Nope. But I jus’ might, now that ya mention it.” Dusty just facehoofed in response.

“C’mon, Rodeo, let’s leave mister stick-in-the-mud to his soup,” the pegasus said, getting up.

“Sure, Lip Trick. Room’s more fun, anyhow,” Rodeo said smirking at the blue pegasus with a very obviously dyed multi-color mane. Roman smirked and got up.

“Knight in shining armor ploy,” the purple earth pony said, winking at Dusty. “Nice.” He then left, grinning. Dusty, as soon as they were gone face-planted into the table. Thankfully the old sturdy wood deflected his horn, but he ended up leaving a scratch. Dusty lifted his face from the table, looked around, then quickly used his magic to… repair the scratch. He proceeded to enjoy his soup, and carried the dishes, himself, to the dish cart by the kitchen.

She normally wouldn’t have noticed this but… but for some reason she seemed to want to keep an eye on him. It was strange. She never had this urge before, at least not with a pony who WASN’T a troublemaker. There was just something about him. Something different. His willingness to stand up for her, his consideration. He taking the time to fix the gouge he left in the table, and actually taking the dishes, himself, to the cart… He was not the usual resort guest.

The dining room was done, so she took the back stairway to sweep up the upstairs balcony. Those two… harridans were already upstairs, hanging out, watching Dusty come trudging up the stairs. The behatted mare, Rodeo Flip casually sidled up to a sideboard, a smirk on her face. They waited until both Queenie and Dusty were close enough, then Rodeo casually bumped the sideboard, sending an antique vase to the floor, shattering it. Dusty just glared at Rodeo.

“Whoop! Pardon mah hips,” she drawled with a smirk. “Guess ah’m not as graceful on stairs as ah am on snow.”

“You totally did that on purpose,” Dusty said with a frown. “Never mind that was a vase from the era of Prince Nebula . Thing’s priceless.” The words “vase” and “era of Prince Nebula”' set off alarms in Queenie’s head and she carefully approached the scene of the accident. She steeled herself for what she might see... but the reality was worse than the mental picture. It wasn't that it was an antique worth an obscene amount of bits to the right collector, nor that it had been in the family for close to two-thousand years... It was that her Grandmother had personally given it to her. It was perhaps the one thing that the two of them appreciated in tandem. It was common ground for them to start their relationship with. Most others found it on the tacky side but to her and her grandmother... it was beautiful. And now... now it was just a pile of shards and chunks.

“Oh come on, Dusty. If’n it was THAT old then they shoulda replaced it long ago. Get themselves a brand-new antique,” Rodeo Flip said trotting on, a smirk on her face. Lip Trick leaned close, and whispered.

“Good luck,” she whispered, before trotting off with Rodeo. Dusty turned away from the retreating rumps of his teammates to see Queenie kneeling next to the fragments of the vase, carefully gathering them into a single pile. The way she did so betrayed a personal and very deep emotional attachment to the ruined item. The way she was careful with the pieces, trying to not damage them any further nor lose a single shard in her effort of cleaning up. While she didn’t say a word, her expression was one of deep sorrow, tempered with a very controlled resignation to the situation. She wasn’t wailing or screaming but he could tell that while calm on the outside, on the inside she was no doubt crying.

Dusty bit his lip he finished climbing the stairs, then knelt down, with a grunt, and concentrated on the pieces, sticking his tongue out a bit, as he concentrated on the shards, carefully reconstructing them. Every shard, every speck, was carefully put back into the whole that was once the vase, every piece glowing with Dusty’s distinctive blue-white glow.

Queenie’s eyes widened to the point she had to force herself to shut them or else her eyes might fall out. She stared at the Vase, reconstructed and with barely the faintest sign it had been broken on it’s surface. She started to reach out for it then stopped and pulled her hooves away for fear of somehow breaking the spell.

“How…how did you…?”

“Fix-It spell. Should be… well not good as new, but at least it isn’t in pieces,” Dusty said getting up, and scuffing a hoof humbly. “It seemed important to you, so…”

“It was… is. It is important to me,” she said as she gingerly scooped it into her grasp. “Very important. Thank.. *cough* Thank you very much.”

“You’re welcome,” Dusty said with a smile, then, scuffed his hoof again. “Ah… er… I don’t suppose you’d… you know, like to go out, sometime? You know, on a date? A real, honest-to-Celestia date? Have somepony waiting on you, for a change, instead of you having to wait on ponies? I mean… I’ll understand if you say no. I mean, c’mon, considering the company I’m forced to keep, I wouldn’t blame you…”

Queenie blinked then giggled nervously.

“A date? I.. Well I don’t know… I’ve never… I mean this is all so sudden.”

“I know… I guess I shoulda waited, but… you… you kinda caught my eye when I ran into you, this afternoon,” Dusty said, sheepishly. “And, yeah, I was starin’ like an idiot, but… you’re just so… gorgeous. Never mind you workin’ so hard, and puttin’ up with flankholes, like the ones on this team my manager put together. Kinda admire that, too. The putting up with flank-holes work-ethic, I mean. I swear, he went out of his way to find the most egotistical jerks he could find. Teammates are sure I’m tryin’ to get into your uniform, but… I’m not like that. Which makes me weird in the sports world.”

“Into my uniform?” she asked as she was about to set the vase back on the sideboard where it had originally stood, then changing her mind opened a drawer and placed it on top of some soft linen. “But you would look positively dreadful in my uniform. First off the blue would clash with your eyes.” Dusty laughed, quietly, trying not to wake anypony up.

“Not quite what I meant. They think I’m tryin’ to seduce you,” he clarified. “But I’m not that kinda guy.”

She placed a hoof on his shoulder and smiled.

“I know what you meant. I was teasing you. May I take a day to think about this? It is a rather sudden request, I’m just used to quietly shrugging off lewd commentary and trying not to dignify inappropriate touching with a response rather than being given a.. a DECENT proposal.”

“As opposed to indecent ones, huh?” Dusty asked with a smile. “I understand. And, hey, it’s kind of a maybe. I like maybe. Maybe’s good.”

“Maybe is good.” She smiled at him. Good heavens, was she smiling? She touched a cheek reflexively and was surprised. She couldn’t help but feel a little astonished at the thought a young stallion had made her smile without telling a joke.

“Everypony calls me ‘Dusty’,” he said with a slight bow.

“Everyone just calls me Queenie.”

“Nice to meet you, Queenie,” Dusty said with sincerity, taking her hoof, and kissing it in a gentlecoltly fashion. “It’s late, and I’ve got a freestyle, tomorrow. See you around. Don’t work too hard, kay?”

“Ok… Um… is it good to say good luck or is it like the theatre where you have to say break a leg?” Queenie asked.

“Not with downhill ‘boarding,” Dusty said with a chuckle. “You’ve probably noticed it’s an all-too-often occurrence. Broken legs, I mean. It’s way too easy to fall just… wrong, and snap…” He shuddered. “I’ve been really fortunate, so far.”

“Good luck then… and good luck dealing with your… teammates.”

“Thank you. I’ll need it,” Dusty said, as he carefully walked off, trying to keep as quiet as possible.

Author's Note:

Hope you all liked the Energy Drink names.

Comments

[i_am_the_jam]

I know I did

[SageBrony07]

That was nice. I'm glad Queenie is finding love, but a unicorn. I thought she would go for a pegasusu. Oh well. This will be great to see how it continues.