• Published 5th May 2016
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Sensation (SFW Version) - Vivid Syntax



Soarin' should be happy, but even as co-captain of the Wonderbolts, he always feels like he's flying solo. Something's missing, and he'll need to learn what's truly important to find it.

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Chapter 30 - Logistics

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We sit on a bench in that same park. It's mid-afternoon, and the soft breeze tickles our skin. I allow myself a sigh and a resigned smile. "Sounds like you had everything you wanted."

Soarin' smiles back. "I did." He's looking off into the distance, and the brim of Braeburn's hat is just barely keeping the sun out of his eyes. "That night really was perfect." He shakes his head, his teeth still visible. "Heh. Braeburn must have been so nervous about telling me he was leaving. I get it, though. He knew how hard I'd take it, and I think he wanted to keep me from suffering too much. He'd been planning on letting me down easy, when he knew he'd be there to catch me. I don't think I ever told him how much I appreciated it."

I nod. "It can't have been easy on him. He obviously cared a lot about your well-being, but that made it all the harder to tell the truth."

Soarin' is quiet for a moment. His ear flicks, and he closes his eyes to take in a deep breath of the cold, late-autumn air. His eyes open slowly, and he doesn't look my way. "Tell me about the book," he says in a very direct tone.

I wasn't expecting that, and I fight the urge to squint my eyes and cock my head to the side. I remain stoic.

Don't assume he's warming up to the idea, Syn. Just take what he's saying at face value and address his concerns. "Of course. What would you like to know?"

His lip curls, and his nose wrinkles, and his tone is harsh. "I don't know, just…" He flicks a hoof at nothing. "Walk me through it. What happens if I say it's okay?" He still won't look at me.

I look out at the park. Far off on the opposite end, about a dozen older pegasi have gathered for some kind of group exercise program, led by a young instructor with a giant smile plastered on his face. He moves fluidly, and the elderly ponies try their best to keep up. There's a strong correlation between how much they smile and how easily they can mimic the instructor's movements. I picture Soarin' trying to follow along. How much would he be smiling? How much does it hurt him to see what other ponies are still capable of, things that he, by all rights, should still be doing?

I silently wonder if he sneaks into the Wonderbolts shows.

Clearing my throat, I review the process in my head before speaking. "There'd be paperwork. Lots of it. I'll be honest, I've never published a memoir before, so I'd have to hire some legal counsel."

"Not that part," Soarin' interrupts. "With the story. What happens with it?"

"Apologies," I say. "There'd be more interviews, certainly. I'd take my, uh…" I glance at his bag. "…my notes from today and review them, then work on putting together the full narrative."

Soarin' raises an eyebrow at me. "Wait… I'm already doing that part, aren't I?"

"Yes," I say gently, "but I'll need to put it all together and figure out where the holes are. See where we need more detail. That sort of thing."

Soarin' smirks. "What, you don't think I can tell my own story the right way?" I can't tell if he's testing the waters or looking for an excuse to fire me.

Deep breath. "It's not that," I say. "But you might want to change a few things. Names of ponies or places at the Academy, for instance, in case you're concerned about legal ramifications." My fur bristles. "Or… how it might affect others."

Soarin' nods and looks at the other pegasi. "You mean how it would affect Braeburn." His body is still.

I nod. "Yes." I look at Soarin's profile.

He's staring at something I can't see, but actively so. His expression is mostly blank except for the furrowed eyebrows and the intermittent smiles. "Yeah," he says in a breathy tone. His features soften, and he breathes easily.

I clear my head and tell myself to listen closely. "You still love him, don't you?"

"Always," he says quietly and without hesitation. He smiles at that. Cautiously, he glances my way. "Did you look for him? Braeburn, I mean."

I roll my tongue around my mouth. Might as well be honest. "Yes and no. I checked with a few of my sources, and he's reportedly been in Appleloosa on and off for months. It sounds like he travels a lot, usually to visit Canterlot every month or so on official business, but he doesn't go out in public much." Soarin' looks relaxed. "It seems like he's finding success, though. Everypony I talk to says Appleloosa's doing well for itself. The tourism industry did well over the summer, and they're finally constructing a railroad that goes further south. As far as I can tell, none of those tycoons Braeburn was worried about have moved in on the place, or maybe he's kept them back if they've tried. At the very least, he's been pretty successful."

Soarin' chuckles. "Eh, I'm not surprised."

"But I figured he wouldn't want to see any more media ponies. Besides, I wanted to get your story."

Soarin' cocks his head back. "Why do you think that is? Why not his story? Doesn't his matter just as much as mine?"

I pause. Those… are good questions. I roll my head from side to side. "Instinct, I guess. You're the big story. You're the one the public knows the most about, and you're the one that had the accident. Sexier to sell the tragic hero, I guess."

Soarin' purses his lips. "Braeburn's story is more important. After all the shit he went through? He's a bigger hero than I've ever been."

"Maybe." I shake my head. It's unsurprising that Soarin' would think so, given their history. "I'm not going to pursue him, though. From everything you've said, it sounds like he's had enough. I won't try to force more out of him."

Soarin' smiles at me. "Thank you."

I smile back. "You're welcome."

The park is serene for a few minutes longer, but a few foals have been let out from school. They swarm the field and start a rules-free game of airball. If any of them recognize Soarin', they don't show it.

Soarin' clears his throat. "You were planning on a book the whole time, weren't you?" His voice is calm. Non-threatening.

I sigh. "Yeah. I was. And I'll be honest: I'd still like to publish one if you're up for it." I feel an itch on my back. "Are you up for it?"

Soarin' shakes his head slightly. "I dunno… I wouldn't… I wouldn't want anything to come out that would hurt Braeburn or make him miserable."

I tentatively offer, "Well, that's what the extra interviews would be for."

Soarin' looks right at me. "I'd get to read everything first, right?"

My mane stands on end. I bite my tongue and think, 'Would you even be able to?' But I answer, "Absolutely. You'd also probably want a second opinion or two." Nice. Very neutral. It's a touchy subject, but maybe I should just tell him I've figured him out.

Soarin' nods. "Yeah. Yeah, okay." His braces creak as he reaches back into his saddlebags and… huh. My notepad looks so foreign when he holds it like that, but the more I stare, the more my heart flutters. I feel a longing for it in my blood, and my head fills with visualizations of me putting pen to paper. These fantasies are both relieving and terribly unsatisfying at the same time. Soarin' holds it close to his chest and looks at me sternly. "This isn't a 'yes.' Iiiiiiit's… just more practical, I think."

I gulp. "You sure you're okay with it?" I want it. Badly. Desperately. But… at the same time, it might just be a distraction. I want to hear the rest of the story.

Soarin' smiles. "Yeah, I think so. Just don't be a jerk about it." He passes my notepad back to me.

I feel the weight on my hoof. It feels familiar and comfortable, like how I imagine wings or a horn must feel. I feel safer with it, and part of me wants to tear into it and scramble to remember every detail, jot it all down, but somehow, that doesn't seem so important right now. I sigh and put it back into my saddlebag.

"Huh," Soarin' mumbles.

I look up from my bag and cock an eyebrow. "Hm?"

He shakes his head. "I thought you'd, like, dramatically stand up and drop it through the clouds or something."

"Ha!" Felt that one in my belly. I've also thrown my head back. "No, no. I'm not some hack. Besides, the story's not about me. I don't need to draw that kind of attention."

He smirks and whines, "Aw, I was gonna throw myself onto the clouds and yell 'Don't do it!' too."

We share a short laugh, and I add, "Not this time. I'd hate for it to land on somepony."

"Yeah. Just my luck, some asshole writer would steal it."

I nod. "Better to leave it with the asshole that can't run away, right?"

"Right." He smiles. "You're going to put yourself in the story, though, right?"

I crinkle my face. "I don't know why I would. Everypony's going to want to read about you. You're the celebrity."

With a cringe, he says, "I don't want to be that guy, though. People get so wrapped up in the celebrities that they forget how many other ponies are affected by this stuff, too. That's why the media latches onto us. I mean, yeah, the media are assholes, but it's not just their fault, right? The readers are in on it, too. And I don't want my story to overshadow anypony else." He slumps a little. "It wouldn't be the first time. Just ask Fire Streak."

"I'll make a point to do that." Mental note: see if Fire Streak wants to do an interview after all this is over. "But why?"

Soarin' takes a moment. "Because it's not all about me. It's not just about what I went through and what I needed. Braeburn taught me that."

"Back in Appleloosa?"

Soarin' sits up straighter and nods. "Yeah, exactly. I'd realized he was a pony, too, that he needed and deserved more than to just be my own personal sex therapy. But I mean, look at everything else in my life." He gestures in a wide arc. "It wasn't just about realizing how important he was to me. I still hadn't learned to… you know, move on when…" He pauses. "…when things didn't turn out the way I wanted." He shakes his head and momentarily covers his face with a hoof. "I mean, Luna, I basically guilted him into staying with me." He sets his hoof down and looks at me with those tired eyes. "No, I still had a long way to go. There was still a lot I had to face."

My tail flicks behind me. "Well, talking about Skywise was a good first step."

At his father's name, Soarin' half-lids his eyes and smiles. "Yeah," he says in an airy tone. Slowly, he turns to me. "Talking helps."

I smirk. It's a nice opening, and I don't like seeing him depressed. I can't really tell if moving on with the story's going to help with that at all, but there's no point in delaying. "Should we… keep talking, then?"

"Sure," he says, standing up. "Let's go grab a snack though. There's a great falafel vendor a few blocks down. You hungry?"

I stand and shake out my mane. "A little." My back aches, so I stretch that out, too. "Do you want to come back here afterwards?"

"Nah. If I sit down much longer, I'll need a nap, especially if I'm full of falafel." His eyes open wide, and he laughs. "Heh heh. Full of falafel. Full of falafel!" he shouts. "Full-of-falafel-full-of-falafel-FULL-OF-FALAFEL-FULLA-LUH-LUH-LUH-LUH!!! AHAHA!!!" He laughs out loud, and I can't help but join him.

When we finish, he sighs and looks back to me. "Wait, what were you saying? Oh! Yeah. Right. Nah, I don't wanna come back here. Let's coast around the neighborhoods for a while. My therapist says I should get some flying in every day, anyway. Wouldn't want my wings to turn into these." He holds out an atrophied leg, and my hunger fades a touch.

Don't stare at his legs. "You got it."

We start walking. A colder wind has picked up, and my fur bristles. It'll be fine once we're walking. The park and the sounds of the foals fade behind us, and the open space gives way to suburbia as houses flank us on either side. They aren't as nice as the ones in the Estates, but none of them look to be in a state of disrepair. Then again, would I even know what a worn-out cloud building looks like? The streets are mostly empty except for a few more foals and the odd pony that flies high overhead, and the cloud crunches under my hooves while we walk and fly with each other in near silence.

I think about Soarin'. I wonder if he's happy. I hope so.

Soarin', flapping gently next to me asks, "So… Should I keep going? There's still some big things left."

I snap back to the moment. "Hm? Oh! Yes, please."

He smiles, says, "Okay," and turns back to the street. "We stayed at Honeycrisp's over the weekend. Life was easy, and Braeburn and I spent most of our time doing chores and cooking and telling each other we loved each other. We never got sick of hearing it. And it happened again, that same thing that had happened when I'd met Big Mac. I thought about moving to a farm with Braeburn, someplace far away from everything, where we could be happy together. It was a nice daydream, and knowing he really loved me made it seem so much closer."

Soarin' flaps his wings a little harder, and I pick up my pace a bit.

He continues. "Honeycrisp arranged a carriage for us to the Manehattan Hot Air Balloon Launch, and on Monday morning, we left for Cloudsdale."

I look up and to the left, away from Soarin'. Getting used to these magic horseshoes was difficult enough for me, and Braeburn doesn't strike me as the worldliest pony. "Did Braeburn transition smoothly?"

"Heh heh." Soarin' casts a sidelong glance at me, accompanied by a smirk. "Weeeeell, not exactly."

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