Soarin's Cavalier Carriage
If there was one thing Soarin was not in short supply of it was money. There was no need for him to ever spend his money when he was a Wonderbolt; housing was provided for him, and when he wasn't having his meals for free in the academy's mess hall, he would be wined and dined at charity banquets and fundraisers for the modest price of simply making an appearance. The day of the Poneyville celebration was the first time he could remember splurging so much. He wasn't one to flaunt his wealth, but his first date with Applejack needed to be perfect, and he would spare no expense to make it so.
He looked himself over in the mirror. His black shirt was custom tailored to cuff perfectly just above his hooves. The sleeves fit snug to compliment the shapely sinew of his long forefronts. It was buttoned all the way up to the collar, from which hung a silk purple tie. To match his tie, he had purchased a pair of shades with purple transparent lenses fashioned from thinly honed amethysts. The frames themselves were made of silver, which matched the new silver chain that jingled loosely around his wrist. Soarin was beginning to find silver to his liking. It was a metal that was aesthetically pleasing, yet, subtle. "A little something modern," Soarin said. He then donned his custom made western styled waist coat over his long sleeved shirt. It was adorned with golden buttons dyed a deep purple to go with his shades and his tie. "A little something country," he added, wondering what Applejack would think of his ensemble when she saw him.
"I've never seen you so fantastic, mi amore!" critiqued the flamboyant stallion who owned the boutique. His name was Fernando Fabuloso, a suave and elegant stallion of middling age who was a well known savant in the fashion world. His shop was closed on the day Soarin had come to him, but a tap on the apartment window above his Canterlot shop, and an amiable 'hello' was all Soarin needed to get him to open it. "Soarin, mi amore!" he had squealed out from his window with an eagerness that was startling. "My shop is closed to the public today, but my doors are always open for you! Come, meet me downstairs, and we shall make you fabulous!" The boutique owner was a long time friend who Soarin had modeled for on several occasions. For a time, when one would travel through the streets of Canterlot, it wouldn't be uncommon to see Soarin on a billboard wearing one of the boutique owner's signature suits. He scrutinized the former Wonderbolt through his decadent pink shades and said, "But it's missing something, no?" He stroked his oiled goatee in a thoughtful manner.
"What's it missing?" Soarin smiled at the boutique owner in the mirror. "You've already outdone yourself." He traced his hoof along the edge of his collar. It felt smooth as silk, though it was made from cotton that was imported from a country who's name he couldn't pronounce. "I don't think I'll be needing anything else. This is perfect."
"Soarin, mi amore, there is no such thing as perfection. Only improvement." Fabuloso moved to his sewing machine with a dancing stride that was half a skip and half a saunter. He drew a purple ribbon from a drawer in his sewing station, then levitated a plane black fedora hanging on a nearby peg over to him. A few snips here, a few pumps on the pedal of his sewing machine there, then he turned and presented to Soarin a black velvet fedora sashed with a purple band to go with his outfit. "Magnifico, no?"
"What's wrong with my other hat?" Soarin gestured to his treasured cowboy hat that he had left laying on the shop's front counter.
Fabuloso looked at it in reserved revulsion. "Oh, amore, you can't wear that old thing; it would clash with your outfit. This hat, however..." He levitated the fedora over to Soarin and set it gingerly atop his head. "Ah," he said gleefully, "now, you are complete! Look, Amore. Behold, for the only stallion who could ever compete or compare with your marvelousness is the one who stands before you in the mirror!"
And so it was true. Soarin had never been one to gloat, but he liked the way he looked. The fedora seemed a bit excessive when it was presented to him, but, looking at his reflection in the mirror, he realized that it suited him. He titled it to the side, smiling. "Fabuloso," he said, "you've done it again. How much do I owe you?"
"You just pay me whatever you feel is necessary."
"But," Soarin objected, "the gold buttons on the coat. The Silver chain. The glasses. This outfit could easily go for a couple grand if you patented it."
"Amore, your handsome face and gorgeously masculine physique has brought me more business than I could ever hope for. I'd still be sewing stitches out of the back of my old shop in Manehattan if you hadn't made the decision to sport my suits at all the formal events you attended."
"Formal events were the bulk of my duties. It wasn't like Spitfire would let me race in any of the derbies." Soarin frowned as he could feel an old wound reopening. "All I was allowed to do at derbies was stand there, smile for the cameras, and sign autographs." Deep down, Soarin knew he shouldn't complain about past grievances. He had decided to leave his past in the past, but old habits died hard, and the harder he tried to forget something, the harder it was to stop thinking about it.
"Ah, yes, but you looked magnificent while doing so!" Fabuloso insisted. "You wield an autograph pen as gracefully as a swashbuckler with a rapier while dancing upon the surface of water!"
Soarin cracked a smile at that. "You're a silly bastard."
"And you are a handsome one, amore." Fernando winked behind those pink and gold shades, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "If the time should ever come that you'd prefer to play for the other team, just make an appointment and Fernando will pencil you in."
"I'll hold you to that," Soarin said with an assured smirk that said 'not in a million years.' "Seriously though, how much do I owe you?"
"I told you, pay me whatever you like."
Soarin drew his brand new checkbook from his saddle bag. A quick trip to the First National Bank of Canterlot was among the many errands he had ran that day, to run a quick inquiry of his bank account, register his change of address, withdraw a few bits should he need cash, and obtain a new checkbook. He got the pink checks with the cute puppies on them, because why the hell not? Soarin filled out the check, folded it, then placed it on the counter top where his hat had been laying. "I'll just leave your payment right here, Fernando."
"Leaving so soon?" Fernando asked, eyeing the folded check suspiciously. "How much are you paying?"
Soarin turned his head just before pushing on through the glass door that lead through to the smoothly paved brick and mortar street outside. "I think the price is fair. I still have a lot of things to do today, and not a lot of time to do them in. Till next time, amigo."
"But what about--
Soarin exited the shop before Fernando could see the figures scrawled out on the check and object to it. He was already half a block away when he heard the words "Ay Celestia Mio!" coming from fernando's shop.
Smiling, Soarin unfolded his wings and he was off to seize the rest of his day.
"What's the surprise, already!" Scootaloo insisted, her wide, adorable eyes glistening like two purple droplets of morning dew. "The anticipation is going to kill me!"
"I hope not," Soarin goaded, his antique mirror conveying to her his teasing grin. "You'll never know what the surprise is if you die."
"Can't you give us just a little hint?" Sweetie Belle pleaded. Sweetie had the biggest doe eyes of the group, and that little filly knew it. She could have weaponized that pitiful look of hers, and it would have been outlawed by the EUP mandated Poneva Convention the following day.
"Nope," Soarin smirked at her reflection in the mirror as he stroked a dollop of pomade through his slick blue mane. "And quit looking at me like that, before you give us all The Beetus."
The two fillies, clad in the ensembles they'd be showcasing for Rarity's fashion show, persisted with their vain pleas until Apple Bloom's sudden dynamic entry presented a deflection from the topic. "Ah'm here, y'all," she announced enthusiastically after bucking the doors of Soarin's barn in. She entered the hovel with a bounding leap and struck a pose, placing one hoof behind her head and winking. "How do Ah look, ladies?"
"Not as good as me," Sweetie Belle snickered.
"Should be good enough to get Rumble to notice you," Soarin put in as he adjusted his tie in the mirror, secretly grateful for the opportunity he had just been provided. He hated using Apple Bloom's crush as a distraction, but he wasn't sure how much longer he could take Scoot's and Sweet's doe-eyed pleading.
Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo's little heads perked at that. "Rumble?" they repeated inquisitively.
Apple Bloom's face turned beat red, the little molten ambers that were her eyes suggesting threats of mutilation should Soarin pursue the path that he was on. He turned and zeroed a devilishly charming smile on the filly through the thinnely shaved stones of his glasses. "You know, you're cute when you're angry," he said, donning his fedora, then tilting it to the side. "Maybe I should take you as my date instead of your sister."
Apple Bloom was not amused. The flustered filly looked as if she was being crushed under the weight of her friends' probing stares. "Hey!" she managed with a sudden hint of evasive delight. "That surprise Soarin promised us should be arriving soon!"
Scootaloo rolled her eyes. "Oh, way to dodge the subject, AB."
"What's this about Rumble?" Sweetie Belle wanted to know, hiding an impish smirk behind her hoof.
Soarin had to restrain a chuckle. It never ceased to amuse him how taboo it was for children of Apple Bloom's age to have a crush. "Actually," he said, deciding to intervene, "she's right. It'll be here any minute now." Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle suddenly looked at him as Wave Chill once would at the mention of groupies outside of his hotel room. "Head over to the main entrance of Sweet Apple Acres, where the main road connects to the path that leads to Ponyville. I'm gonna go ahead and fetch Applejack, and we'll meet you all there."
"C'mon Soarin, what's the surprise, already?" Scootaloo whined.
"You'll see it when it gets here," Soarin repeated for what must have been the hundredth time now. "If you're not there in time though, you might miss out on it." Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo looked at each other in urgency. The next thing Soarin knew, they were tripping over their dresses in their haste to the rendezvous point that had just been divulged to them.
Apple Bloom conducted herself with a little more dignity than them, walking to the exit in a defined, albeit quick manner. "Soarin," she tossed over her shoulder with a smile that was every bit as cold and sweet as winter molasses, "you ever tell anypony from mah school that Ah like Rumble, Ah'll draw you with a peeling knife and quarter you with granny's wood axe."
"Noted," Soarin replied apathetically, only half listening as he polished his glasses on his lapel. "I can't promise you anything though, so I'll just have to make sure your college fund is in my will before said gutting and dismemberment should occur."
"Ya dang well better," Apple Bloom shot back before chasing after her friends.
Soarin gave the sharp-dressed stallion in the mirror one more glance: new shirt, silk tie, purple shades, cool hat, and he hadn't a reason to feel anxiety about the circumstances due to the fact that his wallet was corpulent. He unfurled his wings and took flight through the hole in his roof. He hovered above his barn for a moment to watch Apple Bloom scurry along the grassy pasture with Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo. Rumble better watch out, he thought, crossing his arms over his chest. That one is going to be a little firecracker when she grows up. His eyes transitioned to the Apple family house across the field. Just like her sister.
Soarin had only time for one deep breath and a few last minute thoughts as he approached the house. He had a new life, a new family, a new job, and possibly a girlfriend, if he played his cards right tonight. Everything needed to be perfect. He needed to be smooth, he needed to be cool, he needed to be witty, he had to be everything that Applejack thought he was on that fateful night she fell for him. 'Wild, dangerous, exciting and fearless' were the words she used to describe him. Could he be cool while he was consciously trying to..? No, cool wasn't good enough. Not for Applejack; he needed to be alpha status; he couldn't just be 'cool.' He had to be as cool as his grandfather was. That's right, he had to be Squall Sweller cool. He had to be 'mother bucking-jumping-sharks-and-starting-up-jukeboxes-with-a-bump-from-his-hoof-cool.' He was dressed for it. He had the money. He had the moves. He had the connections. He had the plans. The planets were aligning in his favor, he could feel it. Soarin decided that, tonight, he was going to be awesome, and damn any negative notion in his mind that told him he'd be otherwise.
Granny Smith was sipping tea when he arrived. Her eyes met with his from her antique rocking chair which creaked to a halt the moment he walked in. "Whoa, who's that sharp-dressed stallion?"
Soarin smiled, lowered his glasses to reveal the jade of his eyes, winked. "I believe it's AJ's date."
Granny Smith cocked an eyebrow. "What's with that shit eating grin? Ah'm gonna be attending the festivities as well, hotshot. That makes me yer date, too."
It was as Soarin expected: the old mare didn't trust him alone with her granddaughter. Not yet. She'll likely disguise her reasons for wanting to tag along with them, but the crux of her objective was most likely centered around ensuring that Soarin's motives were nothing less than pure. He considered this momentarily and decided that it didn't bother him. "Works for me," he finally replied, and without so much as missing a beat he added, "Ponies might see the three of us together and think I'm dating a pair of hot twins."
"Oh?" Granny Smith cackled in amusement as she rocked her chair back. "Ah think Ah'm startin' to see why mah granddaughter likes ya; yer sweet. Full of crap, but, sweet." Granny and Soarin both shared a laugh at that.
Soarin espied the grandfather clock standing like an ancient, oaken monolith against the wall, ticking its loud rhythmic ticks."So, where's AJ?" he wondered. "I kinda figured she'd be ready to go by the time I was here. I have a surprise waiting for her."
"Cool yer jets, Romeo." Granny took a sip of her tea. "Girls take forever getting ready for anything - especially dates. You don't know the first thing about girls, do ya?"
"Granny," Soarin replied, "the only thing I can honestly claim to know about your sex is that I don't know a damn thing."
Granny chuckled. "A common limitation with your sex, Ah suppose. 'Least yer honest about it though. Good boy."
Granny and Soarin conversed as they waited for Applejack to come down stairs. The old mare shared a few heartwarming gems about her when she was a child, but then the discussion seemed to take a more serious turn when she started going into details about her granddaughter's love life. "Seems that the kinda stallions Applejack has always attracted were the type who were only interested in one thing. It's darn near impossible for a pretty girl like her to avoid those types. Applejack was havin' none o' them, though. Call her closed minded if you want, but mah sweet granddaughter has her morals and her priorities in tact. Anyone who has ever tried to pressure her into doing something she wasn't ready to do, or had no intention of doing, she wouldn't hesitate to show em the door."
Granny's teacup clanged atop the porcelain saucer when she set it down. "So now you know a little more about mah granddaughter. She prizes her farm and her family above all else, so if you ever want to leave this place, Ah'm sorry to say, you'll be hittin' the road on yer own. Ah don't know how far yer plannin' on takin' this relationship with mah granddaughter, or if it's even gone far enough to call it that yet, so just know this: You hurt her, you cross any line that she draws with you, yer out of here. Ah ain't tryin' to be mean, Soarin. Ah'm simply letting you know that Ah trust you, and so does AJ, and Big Mac, and Apple Bloom. Don't ever do anything to betray that trust, son."
It had seemed that Granny had drawn the line in the metaphorical sand. Soarin's long history of blunders had made him a natural pessimist, but this one thing, this 'trial' of courting Applejack was one thing he wasn't going to fail. "Braeburn once told me that he could ask me a million questions and he still wouldn't know a thing about me at the end of the day. I could shower you in all the promises you want, but I doubt cheap words would sway you into thinking differently of me. "
Granny smiled a sweet, trusting smile. "It's good to see that you're learning. It's true, simple words don't mean much around here, but this was a talk we needed to have. Ah just need to make sure we understand each other."
Soarin nodded, then his ears twitched when a sudden sound coming from upstairs caught his attention. The most graceful mare he had ever seen descended the stairs, her golden hair and bronzed fur freshly bathed and perfumed filling the room with an intoxicating aroma that conjured images of a rustling apple orchard on a cool autumn night. That shy smile of hers only seemed to intensify her allure. "How do Ah look, sugarcube?" she asked in a timid manner, stepping off from the last stair with an almost feline grace that she must have practiced in a mirror until it was honed to fluid perfection.
Soarin's heart fluttered. You're supposed to be cool tonight, he had to remind himself. "Hot enough to melt butter," he said in a tone that was as smooth as velvet.
Applejack smiled, flushed, averted her eyes. She had to clear her throat to distract herself. "Ah'm sorry Ah took so long to get ready."
She feels awkward all dolled up like that, Soarin figured. It was either that or she was well aware of how cute she was when she played at being coy. Let her play any angle she wants. She's beautiful no matter what she does. "Like the grand finale at a fireworks show, you were worth the wait."
AJ looked at him and said, "Well, yer one to talk, Ah can't believe how good you look. You look like you could be a model, or a movie star."
"And yet, I doubt anyone will notice me when I'm standing next to you." Soarin couldn't believe it. He was on a roll. He was actually being smooth, and so far his awkward idiosyncrasies hadn't subjected him to the mouth raping his hoof would habitually inflict upon him when he tried to be witty. "And don't worry about how long it took you to get ready, I doubt you've made us late." Soarin looked at the clock one more time. "In fact, I have a surprise waiting for us. It should get us to the festival in no time."
"Surprise?" Applejack tilted her head.
"Oh, that's right." Granny Smith climbed down from her chair and dusted herself off. "You was sayin' something about a surprise earlier, weren't ya?"
"That's right," Soarin announced. He strode to the front door, pushed it open, and with a chivalrous gesture of his hoof, beckoned Granny and Applejack exit. "It's right this way, ladies."
The dwindling afternoon sun was rippling, orange and yellow, like a giant sphere of molten gold above the mountains as Soarin, Applejack, and Granny Smith sauntered along the grassy pasture. The distant crags seemed to be enveloped in a shroud of purple. It was about that time of day, the brief moment when the light from the waning sun set the mottled clouds before the horizon ablaze with purples and pinks. Not truly day, nor truly night. It was dusk in its infancy. The rolling hills and rustling trees of Sweet Apple Acres have yet to fail at making this time of day anything less than picturesque.
"Pretty, ain't it?" Applejack commented, knowing exactly what Soain was looking at.
"You sure are," he replied. "Those mountains out there aren't bad either."
Applejack chuckled. "You planing on being this smooth the whole night, cowboy?"
"I plan on getting progressively worse through the evening," Soarin admitted. "I'm at my peak right now, but I'll start running out of gas soon. Then I'll have to result to corny one-liners I may have stolen from a couple of movies."
"Like what?" Applejack said, genuinely curious.
"Like this." Soarin adjusted his glasses and said, "I could be all, like, 'give me some sugar, baby.'"
Applejack guffawed. "Where'd ya learn that one?"
"Some shitty B flick," Soarin replied. "Though I fear I'll never be as cool as the guy who actually said it."
"Speaking of sugar, though." Applejack fell in closer beside Soarin until their sides were touching. She batted her eyelashes at him prettily when he looked down at her. "Ah just might have a little somethin' sweet for ya at the end of the night," she purred.
"Y-yeah?"
"Maybe." Applejack teased him with a sly smile before slipping in some distance between them again. "Maybe not."
"You've gone from shy to flirt in thirty seconds flat."
"A personnel best," Applejack proclaimed.
"And how long does it usually take for you to..." Soarin suddenly realized that Granny wasn't at his other side. He looked back and noticed that she was falling behind. Soarin looked at AJ and gestured back to Granny, feeling chagrined that he was too busy flirting with his date to notice her struggling.
They slowed to match her speed and asked her what was wrong, but when they did she just shrugged and said, "don't worry about me. Just givin' you kids yer space....... Ah may be...... Tagin' along on this date o' yers, but...... That don't mean Ah'm gonna be a.... Third wheel."
A lie, Soarin knew. The old mare was having trouble keeping up with them. The hitch in her stride and her exerted breaths between sentences were impossible for her to hide. A brisk walk across this pasture might as well be ten miles for her... Soarin offered her his arm.
"Ah don't need no help," Granny asserted, though not unkindly.
"Granny," Applejack insisted, "let him help you."
"It's as you said, Grandma," Soarin put in, "you're my date as well. Come on, let me score some points with you here. I'm still trying to decide on which one of you I'm going to be kissing by the end of the night."
Granny had to stop to laugh. "Oh, son, as weak as mah knees get whenever yer around, this ol' girl's kissin' days are over." She wiped a tear of mirth from her eye. "Alright, you win, hotshot. Give me that limp-wristed noodle you call an arm."
It appeared that the surprise that Soarin had promised Applejack and Granny Smith had arrived on time. Soarin's own personal stretch carriage was waiting them. It was decadent and long, shining black and chrome in all its ostentatious glory. Applejack and Granny Smith's eyes widened at the site of the thing as they approached. Thumping music could be heard resonating from inside of it, powerful sub-woofers rhythmic with concussive blasts of heavy bass that shook the very leaves from the encompassing trees.
"Whoa Nelly..." Applejack gawked at it in astonishment. "What is that thing, some kinda trailer home?"
"It's my carriage." Soarin had to smile at Applejack's incredulity. "It's a custom job, complete with enough seating for a twenty pony entourage, heated seats, air conditioning, state of the art sound system, mini bar, and, my personal favorite, a crystal disco ball. I used it whenever I wanted to make a flashy entrance at parties. It's been collecting dust in a Canterlot storage unit for the past couple of years though. Figured this would be the perfect excuse to take it for a little spin." Soarin waited for Applejack to say something, but she only gaped at the carriage in silent awe. "Bit for your thoughts?"
"An' to think," She finally said, "Ah was impressed with that carriage Twilight whipped up to take us all to the grand galloping galla that one night."
"I just hope you like it," Soarin said. "My dates deserve the best. Right, Granny?"
"Ah don't know about this." Wincing, cringing, Granny Smith tried to fold her ears down. "That music's awful loud... An'.... Just plain awful!"
"Yeah, I think that's your grand daughter and her friends playing with the sound system. No doubt they're having themselves a little party in there. Let's join them, shall we?"
The drivers that Soarin had hired were leisurely laughing and congregating around the carriage. A few of them were smoking from strange looking metallic pipes that lit up every time a pull was taken from them. One of the drivers, a strapping stallion who looked to be in his late twenties or early thirties, noticed Soarin and his date approaching. He cocked his head back and blew a torrent of white smoke that coiled itself into a voluminous, sweet smelling cloud before dispersing lazily into the air. "Oi, look alive, gents," he announced to the rest of his team in an accent that was thickly flavored with the rustic, deep southern regions of Trottingham, "our client has arrived. It's time for some worky-work!"
"You guys ready to make some money?" Soarin called out to him as he lead Granny and Applejack on toward the carriage.
"Aye," the stallion laughed, "I'm also ready ta take a first class trip to the Chrystal Empire and shag the princess, but your plan seems a bit more realistic, eh?" The stallion's bawdy jape scored a chorus of cackling laughter from his subordinates. "What're you bloody lot laughin' at?" He snapped at them. "Get ta' hitchin'!" The younger stallions promptly fell into two queues before the carriage and hitched the yokes around their necks to their harnesses.
Soarin decided at that instant that he liked their boss. He was casual enough to crack jokes, but he could be tough as well. "You have your drivers trained well," Soarin commented.
The head driver took his place front and center of the two lines and replied, "Aye, a cohesive team is important in this line o' work. Lazy pullers means a bad reputation. A bad reputation means no work. An' if we ain't workin, we ain't earnin'... Which is bad." The cockney stallion took one more pull from his pipe before depositing it into a velvety bag which hung around his neck.
Granny watched him apprehensively and inquired under her breath, "what's that funny-lookin' cigar that boy's smokin'? Ah ain't gettin' in no carriage driven by a crazy limey all hopped up on some kinda wacky tobacky."
Soarin laughed. "We'll be fine, grandma, it's just a vape pipe."
"What's that?" Applejack wondered.
"A thing that the cool kids do, I guess." Soarin offered as he approached the door to the carriage. A simple bump to the side panel with his hoof prompted a chorus of hydraulics to whine and whir as a mechanical door slid open. The music inside was thumping with the dulcet electronica of an underground rave DJ Soarin had met in his travels. The seating was a spacious, thickly padded ring-shaped bench that extended to each corner of the carriage - velvety, black, and very comfortable, made from the finest synthetic materials designed to simulate the soft, sinking comfort of a cloud. The inside of the decadent transport was dimly lit, though everything glowed under the black light emitted from the clear disco ball hanging from the ceiling. The ivory-toned Sweetie Belle glowed under it like the full moon on a cloudless night. Scootaloo was laying back against the soft cushions, sipping from a straw that extended from a tall, frosty glass soda bottle she had pilfered from Soarin's mini bar. Apple Bloom was in the process of chewing a copious mouth full of sweets as she happily bobbed her head to the music."Glad to see you're enjoying the hospitality!" Soarin had to yell over the music to get their attention. Their eyes suddenly snapped up to him, six little orbs shimmering under the cast of the black light.
Scootaloo reached for the console controls that extended like a podium from the center of the carriage's floor and gave the volume knob a twist. The music faded until the sub-woofers throbbed with dull, rhythmic vibrations. "Soarin, dude," Scootaloo exclaimed, "this carriage is bumpin'! I had no idea you rolled like this."
Apple Bloom mumbled her concurrence through a mouth that was stuffed with gourmet jelly beans. Her bulging cheeks looked as if they were set to bursting if she were to cram anymore.
"These seats are, as my sister would say, fabulous!" Sweetie Belle threw herself back into the soft black cushions, sighing pleasurably as she let them swallow her. "What's this material called? I want a bed made of this stuff!"
Soarin smiled at Apple Bloom, then he smiled at Scootaloo, then he said, "it's stuffed with the entrails of naughty fillies who help themselves to my refreshments without asking."
Apple Bloom stopped chewing. Scootaloo stopped sipping. Sweetie Belle threw a victorious hoof in the air. "Woot! I live."
"Just kidding, girls," Soarin laughed. "Help yourselves to whatever your little hearts' desire."
Scootaloo took another sip from her rootbeer. "You had me going there for a second." She then reached for the container of Jelly Beans Apple Bloom had been quaffing down.
"See, Ah told you he was cool," Apple Bloom managed between mouth fulls. "An' these jelly beans are amazing!"
"I want some, too," said Sweetie Belle, reaching out for her share.
They seem content enough. Soarin looked back at Granny and Applejack. "Ladies?" He held a hoof out for Granny to take. She accepted his help, though she did it warily, stepping slowly, looking all about her surroundings as she entered the carriage, not knowing what to make of anything within. The technological feat of state-of-the-art engineering that was Soarin's transport seemed to overwhelm her with an expression of what he could only deduce was culture shock. The old mare took her seat at the opposite end of the carriage from where the three fillies had been sitting.
"Ah appreciate how sweet yer being to Granny."
Soarin looked back at Applejack and extended a hoof to her. "You were expecting me to be hostile to her?"
Applejack took his hoof, but she lingered there for a moment, as if to hang on to the moment. "Ah wasn't sure what to think. When she insisted that she was going with us, Ah got a tad bit fearful that you'd get upset or object." She blinked. "Can't tell you how glad Ah am to finally go out and have some fun with you. That's what this night's gonna be about, having fun, and getting to know each other."
"We'll be doing plenty of both." Soarin smiled at her confidently. "I promise."
Applejack's grip became a little firmer. A light gust of wind blew between them as she drew his hoof up just below her chin. "Soarin, Ah just need to know one thing. Ah might not get another chance to ask you this in private tonight."
Soarin remained silent and attentive.
"This might sound strange, but, who are you? Ah mean, really? Ah've seen so many sides of you now, ah don't know which one is the real you. You always seem to be so quite and sullen all the time. But the night of Rainbow Dash's party - and, well, tonight, the way yer acting right now. It's like yer a completely different stallion. Which one is the real you?"
"You're going to get to know the real me tonight," Soarin promised her. "That's not a question that can be answered with words. I was mopey because I was miserable, but I'm ready to let go of all that. I'm ready to start enjoying life, to start looking on my future with a smile instead of dwelling on my past with a frown. Now, come on, it's time I showed you the real me."
That unsure look of Applejack's warmed into a smile. "Ah'm lookin' forward to gettin' to know this 'real' you."
"Your carriage, mah lady?" Soarin tried to say without laughing.
Applejack rolled her eyes. "You call me that one more time an' the date's off," she said with a jocular grin as she let Soarin lead her into the carriage.
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7250873 Ah, you're on the East Coast, aren't you? Sorry about that
It's funny, I was just thinking of this story today and here I have a chapter waiting for me. =3
Granny is best pony
Soarin better keep that smooth cheesiness going all night.
Awesome chapter. I'm now late for work but awesome chapter. MacDash?
He's gonna all her M'lady again
You might want to go over this again and switch out every time you use 'arm' with foreleg since ponies don't have 'arms' Minotaurs have arms but pretty much everything else in the show doesn't. Also did you say that Apple Bloom had a crush on Rumble before this chapter? I honestly don't remember that or when/how he found out about something like that, did I forget that or did you forget to put that in? Still I do wonder how the rest of the date will go.
"Ehhhhhhhhhhhh"
*swoon*
Lmfao. Why can I just picture ^that^ happening? I can only dream to be one-tenth as smooth as Soarin' is being. I may be bookmarking this chapter for my own personal use.
found these for you.
compliment the shapely sinew of his long forefronts Perhaps [ forelegs or front legs ] ?
Fernando Fabuloso, a swath and elegant stallion think you might have meant [ suave ] ?
, then levitated a plane black fedora [ plain ]
I think you mean "peers".
Very good chapter, though the CMC seem slightly out of character, sounding more like whiggers than ponies.
Still, quite enjoyable. I'm looking forward to seeing how the night goes... I really hope the title isn't a callback to the First Season finale, because then it won't be a very good night at all. And that makes Applebloom sad.
Never change, Sweetie Belle.
This was a great chapter. I love it. Great job.
:fangirl squeal: Thus is so cute and funny.
I didn't think this story was humanized/anthropomorphized, but your constant use of 'arms' has me wondering.
>Fedora
Ya lost me, bruv. Sorry.
I can deal with the angst because of the quite beautiful narration, but the fedora. THE FEDORA. THE 'MAH LADY'
7253387 So you're saying you're not in favor of me changing the name of the story to "Fedoras and Mah Ladies?"
YES!
i wonder how much longer till they make babies!
Hilariously OOC thing for Apple Bloom to say. Like seriously, wtf.
Good chapter otherwise tho.
I like where this story is going so far. The interactions between Soarin and Applejack are adorable, and I really think that Spitfire needs some character development. Holding on to huge amounts of hate for an individual can really damage you. It's not healthy to harbor grudges. It's bad for you mentally and emotionally. Soarin is making the attempt to move on, and I feel that Spitfire should do the same. Now I'm not saying that she has to be his best buddy, but she needs to let go of large amounts of hate and loathing she has for Soarin.
Overall, this story is really good, and I intend to stick around till the end. So until the next update, see ya later!
~ Super-Brony12
7256904 A little ooc... Metal as fuck tho'
38.media.tumblr.com/486f1999dd27e5bced906d113ddc35f2/tumblr_n82wekingb1sjzzz3o3_400.gif
No.
Hm. That was a good chapter. Still I somehow found myself wishing for Soaring having more troubles rather then a smooth going evening with ladies. For me it is way more engaging to see how the main hero is struggling with his fears and insecurities rather to observe him being happy and lucky.
I'm wondering when will Soaring tell AJ about his talk with Spitfire as well as what will she may answer him.
7279865 Yes
7308278 Negative
7308905 Given I have three close friends that quit smoking thanks to vaping, yes.... affirmative.... positive.... etc.
7309093 That's really good, and for that reason vaping has huge benefits.
Too bad that's not the case for many people.
I'm trying to catch up without too much commenting to slow me down, but I can't take the arm complaints in the comments anymore.
7251415 7252413
Contrary to what you might expect, horses have arms. Take a look at just about any of the images that come up from a google search for horse anatomy. For example:
upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/8/85/Points_of_a_horse.jpg
And given how much ponies in the show use their forelegs for arm-like tasks, calling them arms seems reasonable.
Gimme Some Sugar, Baby....: https://youtu.be/YwCSmVHzhqM
Careful Soarin, you're overdoing it a little
Dead as this story may be, this has been a joy thus far. It's been a while since I read a SoarinJack fic, but this is just the ticket. A shame for its status, but I'm content to enjoy what is to come while it lasts.
And thusly, you've earned the 1000 like for this fic.