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Warm Ups2,284 words
A New Day2,528 words
Play it Safe2,579 words
Nostalgia? 2,025 words
The Big Day2,477 words
Dealing With It2,154 words
Crusader?2,120 words
Crusaders! 2,716 words

The Big Day

AN - I haven't received any complaints on the format, so I'm going to keep it. Enjoy.

The ponies in the streets still scatter, some of them duck under trees, others hiding under umbrellas and awnings. You move your hoof to take a step, moving out from under your cover, when the door opens behind you. You turn around, as does Scootaloo, to see Vinyl standing with an umbrella. She silently trades the umbrella off to you, and you eagerly open it... That's when you realize it's a one-pony umbrella. She really did intend to make this tough, and she was doing a good job at it.

"Well..." Scootaloo begins, her voice trailing off a second later.

You take a deep breath and raise the umbrella. Over Scootaloo, though you do your best to at least get your head under it. Scootaloo shoots you a certain look - an unsure, yet grateful look. You wave your hoof, and you both take a step at the same time.

The first drop of rain to hit your body hit you right in between the shoulders, and you unconsciously seized up for a moment. Whoa, that's cold, is the only thought you can process at the moment.

"Are you alright?" Scootaloo ask, staring right at you.

"Yeah..." You manage to mumble, "Let's get going."

Scootaloo gives a nod, and she starts to trot down the street. You quickly follow her, doing your best to hold the umbrella overhead, her head specifically. From the looks of it, only her hooves have gotten wet at the moment. But there were still a couple minutes for that to change.

A few minutes pass by excruciatingly slowly, as the rear half of your body is completely and thoroughly soaked. "Soaked down to the bone", as Vinyl would say. She always was big on exaggerating. You're still plenty ticked-off at her, but what can you do? She's your sister, you'd be lost without her.

Now that you think about it, all the crud she's told you over the years has been cloaked in exaggerations and riddles you've never quite figured out. A few moments later, you realize you've been walking for longer than you thought. You can see what looks like her house, just a bit away.

You mentally scold yourself, "I've got to stop zoning out". Vinyl always said the ability to ignore reality and just think was both a gift and a curse. You could just "get away from it all and contemplate", as Vinyl had put it. But, the same thing could get you into trouble because you might accidentally ignore somepony. Two sides of the coin, so Vinyl would say.

Before you know it, you're standing on her porch, under the safety of a roof. You let the umbrella hit the ground, and shake your coat out. Scootaloo does the same, save for the fact that she spreads her wings and lets them drip-dry.

Something that's always piqued your curiosity... The wings of a pegasus. They look so fragile, so soft and delicate. As if one rough touch could snap it in half. Yet, the same delicate-looking wings can lift a pegasus up into the air, keep them up there, and even lift small items. It just doesn't add up. But like the saying goes, "Don't judge a book by its cover". It's quite an old saying, but it still works to this day.

A moment later, you hear the unmistakable clack of a lock. The door opens wide, revealing a yellow-coated pegasus mare. Her mane is a dazzling electric blue, and her eyes are a warm amber. She takes a step to the side, and ushers you both inside. Despite the fact that you're both soaking wet. As you walk past, you notice the mare's cutie mark, a dark cloud and a magnifying glass.

"Scootaloo..." The mare begins, glancing at you and smiling again. "Who's your friend?"

"Mom!" Scootaloo exaggeratedly groans, "You're embarrassing me."

"Oh, don't be so melodramatic," her mother says, "I just want to know who the colt is."

You quickly introduce yourself, and before you realize it, Scootaloo's Mother had somehow managed to get both of you sitting at the nearest table - on top of towels of course - eating a tray of chocolate-chip cookies. You've got no idea, but all mares with foals seem to have some kind of magical ability to get foals to calm down. It's one of the strangest things ever.

"I really should get going," You say, chewing half of a cookie, "Vinyl's gonna come lookin' for me if I don't show up soon."

You stand up and take a step forward. Before you can take another step, you feel something tug at your hoof. When you look, you see Scootaloo holding your hoof with both of hers.

"Can't you stay a bit longer?" She asks in an almost panicked tone.

Your eyes widen, and you blink. You know you're blushing, but you can't help it. She's holding your hoof. A moment later, she lets go and brings both her hooves up to her mouth. She's blushing too, now. If it's for the same reason, you can't really tell.

"I, uh..." You stutter. "I should go..."

You immediately go out the door. It never phased you at the moment, but you forgot to grab the umbrella. You keep going down the street at a full gallop. The tug in your gut has returned, at least tenfold. Adding to that is the boiling in your stomach. It makes you feel like you're going to...

You veer off the path, and run behind a dumpster. It's the closest thing you can find to cover yourself. The moment you're out of sight, you fall to your knees and your stomach trembles. It's just a moment later you... Get ill.

You trudge along in the rain, completely alone. The streets are completely empty now, and the clouds still blot out the sky. Which is a shame, because a little pinch of sunshine could really improve your day. You still feel sick. You're hungry now, and you feel lightheaded.

The cold rain, once a painful foe, is now a welcomed ally. It washes the "grime of the day" away, leaving you clean and refreshed. For the most part, at least. It's a bracing experience, keeping you from growing too tired. But today has been a long day - your limbs grow heavy and you pick up the pace. All you want to do now is take a shower and go to sleep.

You see a welcomed sight - your house. Just down the street. You trot towards the front door, but stop just outside the door when you hear voices. You silently nod, and note, "Octavia's back". You press your ear to the door, a "nasty-habit" you picked up from Vinyl a while ago.

"I still can't believe it!" You hear Vinyl exclaim. "I'm so excited."

"I know. It seemed like it was just yesterday you were cleaning mud and applesauce from his mane, and here he is." Octavia replies.

"My little bro is in love! I don't know what to do, who to tell... Should I tell my mom?"

"Oh, no, no, no!" Octavia shoots back with a panicked tone, "She'll overreact."

You don't want the conversation to continue, so you open the door and step inside. Both Vinyl and Octavia shoot up to their hooves, and stare at you.

"What the hay happened to you, Squirt?" Vinyl asks, obviously worried.

"Nothing. Got a little wet is all." You reply meekly, marching towards the stairs.

"You look pale. What happened?" Octavia chimed, placing a hoof on your shoulder.

"I got a little sick." You answer, "I'm fine though, really."

Vinyl shakes her head at you, and ushers you towards the stairs. You take a breath of relief, before realizing that Vinyl is instead pushing you towards the bathroom.

"Wash up Squirt," Vinyl instructs, "We'll talk more tomorrow. You look tired."

The whistle is a welcomed sound. Time to go home. You pull your mask off, and trot back to the bleachers. Without a second thought, you do the same thing you've done after each practice. Put away your jersey (and mask, now), lay down on the bleachers, and cool down. Rinse and repeat.

You lay down on the bottom row of the bleachers, the cool metal soothing your weary muscles. That was, undoubtedly, the most intense day of practice to date. You look up to the sky and smile. 'Somehow, I made it through that.' The fact that the rest of the team was kicking harder than usual didn't help at all. You can recall quite a few narrow escapes when the black and white ball nearly took your head off. You swear, sooner or later, the team may rip a hole through the netting in the goal.

You perk your head up, and glance around. The rest of the team has scattered. A few remain, passing the ball back and forth, or taking shots at the goal. You see Rainbow Dash, hovering a couple feet above the ground, scanning the other fields. Like she's looking for something. Then you see the Apple Zappers running extra drills on the field farthest away.

Scootaloo was standing next to - or below - Rainbow Dash. Scootaloo glances in your general direction, and makes momentary eye-contact with you. She immediately looks away. You stare at her for another moment, and you can tell she's looking back from the corner of her eye. She turns away again, and doesn't look back this time.

You sigh, and pick up your bag. Once you have everything set, you start walking off the field. You stop, and look back one last time. Scootaloo is looking back at you. Time seems to stop, but it's cut short. Rainbow Dash taps Scootaloo on her shoulder, and Scootaloo looks away. You start walking again, and slowly make your way back home.

As you open the door, you can hear hooves coming down the stairs. Octavia is sitting on the couch, and Vinyl had just came down the stairs. They both eye you with a certain look.

"How'd practice go, Squirt?" Vinyl asks, walking over to the couch. She sits down next to Octavia.

"Fine." You reply, trotting towards the stairs.

"What happened?" Octavia asks.

"Nothing." On that note, you take off up the stairs.

You stop in the center of your room, and look around. For some reason, it seems smaller than it normally does. Sighing, you drop your bag in the closet, and pace over to the window. The streets are as lively as ever, ponies going back and forth. A certain pegasus catches your eye...

You see Scootaloo, walking alone on the streets. Scootaloo pauses for a moment, and kicks a rock. You can tell she's bored, but, after what happened, you're not sure exactly how either of you should react. All you can do is watch her disappear down the street.

You feel jittery. Like everypony is watching you. The bleachers are full, for once. Dozens of ponies are waiting for the game to start. You can see Vinyl, and Octavia in the front row. Vinyl is wearing a Ponyville Dashers hat, though you don't really know how she acquired it, and she's waving a matching flag about like there was no tomorrow. Octavia was much less enthusiastic about sitting under the sun, and was fanning herself with a cardboard fan. Among the multiple heads, you could see Scootaloo's Mother sitting in the back few rows.

Up in midfield, you see Scootaloo standing by the other offensive-players. You haven't talked to her since the day before yesterday. Not even at practice, not even during the pre-game huddle. It makes you nervous.

The referee blows the whistle. The game starts fast. Before you know it, the only way you can tell each team apart is by the quick flash of the jerseys. It seems like hours before your team has to go on the defensive, with the offensive players being stranded in the other team's half of the field. The midfield players quickly come to assist the defensive players.

The ball flies right at you, but you're ready for it. With a bit of magic, you tug the ball down, and catch it in your hooves. Easy. You send the ball hurdling back to your nearest teammate, and the game takes off again.

This process repeats three or fours times, save for few a slip-ups. Of course, these slip ups cost you three points. However, your team makes four points.

As the game neared its end, you grew tired of the same cycle. Things get a bit more interesting when the ball gets sent back into your territory. And the Cloudy Kickers seem to be trying out a new tactic. They weave the ball back and forth between their players, making it hard to keep track of the ball itself.

The Kicker nearest you has the ball now, and the filly has a fierce look in her eye. The colt opposite her, also a Cloudy Kicker, moves closer as well. The filly steps back, unhindered by your dazed teammates, and sends the ball hurdling at you. Worst of all, you can't figure out the trajectory of the ball.

You decide to act before it's too late, and lunge for the ball. Instead of catching the ball with your hooves, you catch it with your gut. Just a second after you hit the ground, the final whistle rings out. You slap the ball back to the field with your fore-hooves, and move to your knees. You take your mask off, and drop it next to you.

Out of the corner of your eye, you can see movement. You turn to look, and see the Cloudy Kicker colt winding up for a kick. Before you can react, the ball beans you in the left eye. You black out a moment later.

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