Soarin's Pet Rock

by Beware The Carpenter

3 - Bluey will help us

A lot of rich ponies in Canterlot were boring jerks, but Bluey wasn’t like that. He’d been a Wonderbolt fan since he was a kid, and when Soarin made the team; Bluey was one of the first people to congratulate him, and since then the two of them had been great friends:

Bluey had introduced Soarin to his friends at the country club, Soarin had helped Bluey dodge his wacked out stalker ex-marefriend; and both of them as the other’s wingman on dates. The coolest part about him was that Bluey was one of the few people who didn’t laugh when Soarin showed him Stoner for the first time and had even made Stoner a little bungalow on a dinner cart for when Soarin came over on Mondays.

Bluey and Soarin would play high-stakes poker with the rest of the gang, and Stoner would sit back and watch, sipping the margarita Bluey’s butler would pour for him, and Soarin would always wait for him to finish before leaving. (Stoner didn’t actually drink it though, he just liked to sip the bubbles off the top, since they had all the flavor.)

Bluey was smart too; he had this thing for statistics and reading, and he was always making bets on who would win the next Wonderbolt Derby. Since becoming friends with Soarin, Bluey had been winning more than ever; both stallions agreed that some of Stoner’s good luck must be rubbing off on him.

Bluey was sitting on his balcony when they arrived, eating breakfast with that puckish smile that he always had when he was up to something interesting. When he saw Soarin and Stoner fly up, he gave a wave and pushed out another chair for Soarin, but Soarin’s worried glance chased Bluey’s smile back into the house. “What happened?”

Soarin landed heavily on the balcony opposite of Bluey and sighed, “I got jipped last night.”

“Oh yeah?” said Bluey, pulling a sip of coffee and a new smile out of his coffee mug, “From what I heard from Wave Chill things went pretty well, said you left with a fangirl who was practically begging you to have her.”

“Yeah” muttered Soarin, “And then she knocked me out and stole all my uniforms.”

Bluey choked on his coffee, wheezed a few times into a handkerchief, then gave Soarin a real hard look, “She got all your uniforms?”

“Yup.”

“You can’t compete without a uniform, can you?”

“Nope.”

“Wave Chill is still out with the sprained wing, and Firestreak’s down with food poisoning, so without you, the Wonderbolts are have lost three of their five best fliers.” Soarin nodded, and Bluey banged his head against the table. “When did this happen?”

“Last night, like, nine or something. She must have hit me pretty hard, cause I slept through the night.”

“Of course you did.” Bluey muttered, “If we can get your uniforms back, are you still fit to play.”

“Sure.”

“Alright then.” Breathed Bluey deeply, “What was her cutie-mark?”

“Don’t know.” Shrugged Soarin, “She was wearing a pink dress the whole time.”

“Well, what species was she?”

“Pegasus.”

“Colors?”

“Light gold with a greyscale mane.”

“Did she give you a name?”

“Daring Do.” Bluey raised his eyebrows, his mouth moving by itself, but Stoner couldn’t make out any of the words, “Have you heard of her?”

“… Yea man… she’s not real.”

“What do you mean?”

“She’s fiction.”

Soarin swallowed nervously, “You mean I got jipped by a ghost?”

“No. she’s a character in a book; she fights bad guys, collects cursed treasure, stuff like that.”

Stoner felt a chill run through his spine as Soarin turned pale, “You think someone cursed my uniforms, and that’s why she took them?”

Bluey looked at him for a moment, blinked hard and then shook his head; “Never mind dude. Do you have any leads at all at finding… Daring Do?”

Stoner and Soarin looked at each other, then back to Bluey and shrugged; “We got zilch.”

“Alright.” Moaned Bluey, rubbing his forehead with his hoof; “I might have an idea of who took them. It’s not sure, but these last few days there have been a lot of bets coming in for the Canterlot Cup… an LOT of bets, meaning a lot of my money is riding on you. Most of these have come through small-time brokers who couldn’t afford to lose what they’ve wagered, meaning they have a backer, someone wealthy who is very sure that the Wonderbolts are going to lose the Canterlot Cup.

Most of this backdoor backing looks like the orchestrator wanted to keep his business a secret… but was rather sloppy at it which makes me think that it was done by someone who wasn’t from around here.” Stoner and Soarin leaned forwards, as Bluey stood up and took a lap around the table, watching pure genius at work.

“There’s a crew of griffons that’s moved in from the north a few months back, led by a guy called Kravennar who was a baron or something whose made it big back home and is trying to expand. So far though, things haven’t been going too well for him since business in Canterlot works differently than in Gryffindor. I’d put it at a fifty-fifty chance that he orchestrated the bets and then hired… Daring Do to steal your uniforms as a last ditch effort to make it big here.”

“So what do we do?”

“You are not going to do anything. You’re going to sit here where you can’t get in any more trouble and eat some breakfast so you’re fit for tomorrow.”

“Well, what are you gonna do?”

“I’m going to send out some feelers to-“

“Some what?”

Blueblood paused, “I’m going to send some guys to check out whether I’m right or not, they’ll be back in a few hours.” Bluey nodded to his butler Carriage Crest who trotted off like he was on his way to do something cool, and then Blueblood poured Soarin his own cup of coffee and pushed the fruit bowl in his direction. “So how’s Fleet Foot been liking her new diet?”

Bluey really was a great guy; he always showed an interest in everyone on the team; not just as athletes but as people. If someone had gotten injured, for instance, Bluey wanted to know about it so he could send a get well soon card and was even interested in little things like who was stressing out or not sleeping well because of family issues and stuff like that. Soarin dug happily into a ripe banana, and then a tray of pancakes with maple syrup as he talked with Bluey about this and that. Stoner just nibbled on the corner of one pancake that Soarin gave him, but he really wasn’t that hungry.

Topics changed to this and that, Soarin was having such a good time that he almost forgot the whole problem with his uniforms until Carriage Crest came galloping in at some time past noon, holding a set of photos. He offered them to Bluey who looked them over briefly before passing them to Soarin, “Is this the mare who took the uniforms?”

Soarin examined at the pictures; then looked to Stoner for confirmation who gave a definite nod. “That’s her.”

“She came to Kravennar’s warehouse last night with some bulging saddlebags, and left without them.” Informed Carriage Crest, “There hasn’t been much movement since then, so it’s almost certain that they’re still there.”

“Alright!” cheered Soarin and Stoner, standing up with hooves raised high. “Now let’s go get the town guard and send them in.”

“Now hold on!” called Bluey to Soarin, who was already half-way to the door, “We need to be smart about this man, we don’t need the town guard.”

“We don’t?”

“If Kravennar gets arrested you’ll get your uniforms back, sure; and he’ll be fined, maybe even sent to jail… but all his bets are now invalid. He’s just bet a mountain of bits that you’re not going to play tomorrow if you get your uniforms without the law getting involved, we are going to be very rich ponies.”

“…So what do we do?” asked Soarin, excitedly… and nervously.

Bluey clamped his hooves together and got out another one of his puckish grins. “We wait for the cover of night, and we take them.”

Author's Note:

I did not plan to write Blueblood as a criminal mastermind; it just sort of happened.

Comments

[the other sans]

Topics changes to this and that

1. Changed.

I'm kinda wondering why Stoner never mentioned about the cutie mark she saw on the mare. Irrelevant? Can't be. Normally.