The Wingless Weatherpony
Crackle! Fizz! Zapp!
The night sky lit up with flashes of white and yellow. Gasses and liquid cloud bubbled and steamed from every crack in the weather factory's pipes, escaping with long, painful whistles and screeches. The factory was a cacophony of metal on metal, punctuated with sounds like nails on old, dry blackboard.
Professor Weathersmith adjusted his hardhat. Debris tumbled from the ceiling, and all the pressure gauges were in the red. Warning lights flashed, hurting his eyes and turning the insides of the factory crimson.
"Horseapples!" he swore, rushing to examine the many switches and dials. Everything was out of control, spiralling into a mess of chaos that could only end one, grisly way: Cloudsdale's destruction. The lightning would tear apart the cumulonimbus carrying the city afloat. The heat changes would conjure up rogue winds and tornadoes, tearing the houses from the streets and tossing them away like a foal throwing toys. Hail would shred the gardens, ice would snap-freeze what remained of the factories, and tremors spreading through the city would bring the gargantuan cloud crashing down to earth.
Weathersmith wrapped his hoof around one of the intimidating levers by the control panel. They were usually handled by stallions far stronger and younger than he, but desperate situations called for desperate measures. His old muscles strained and stretched, and slowly but surely, the lever began to move…
Cloudsdale was in danger, and making sure his factory didn’t rain ice down upon his city was the least he could do…
Hiss! Clunk!
The lever jammed. Weathersmith's bones rattled under the impact. His breath left his lungs. He pulled and pulled, but the stubborn thing refused to budge.
His surroundings shook. He grit his teeth, resting his head against the iron shaft. So close to relieving the pressure on the tanks... so close, but so dreadfully far…
At least there was nopony else left in the facility to get hurt, but the city below...
"I'm sorry..." he muttered as his forelegs went slack, his energy spent. “I can't..."
He felt the pressure on the lever lessen. His eyes went wide, and focussed on a pair of slender, feminine hooves just above his.
"This for the snow-tanks?" came a mare's voice. Weathersmith looked up, craning his neck to see who else was stuck in the factory with him.
"Y-yes... but it's jammed. We can't—"
Plink!
"Doesn't look jammed to me," the mare commented, her unnatural strength forcing the lever back into motion. It jolted, twitched... then shot straight down.
Weathersmith let go out of sheer surprise, a yelp escaping his lips. The mare released the lever as soon as the hissing around her began to die down. She stepped back and wiped her hooves on her fur.
Professor Weathersmith, as awed to be alive as he was that the situation had been (at least temporarily) improved, sat up and finally got a good look at his saviour. His jaw dropped.
"What?" the mare asked.
"You’re a—"
"Weatherpony," she said, cutting him off. Her head span to the left, her ears flicking around her head and sucking in as much information as she could. "This place is gonna blow. But hey, at least there won’t be an ice shower on district eight, huh?"
"Blow?" Weathersmith exclaimed. "Weatherpony?"
"Uh-huh, mister. Can you fly?"
The older stallion looked over at his bent and twisted wing. "N-no... I got injured in the initial—"
"Right," the mare replied, and without warning wrapped her hooves around the stallion before backing towards the window. "You ever go skydiving?"
"What?"
"Hold onto your flank. The name is Windy Weathertop, by the way."
The mare let herself fall backwards, trapping the older stallion in her grip as she fell straight down, out of the factory and into the open skies below. Lightning, hail, wind and tornadoes littered the horizon as far as the eye could see, but the only thing Weathersmith noticed right now was the ground.
Pegasi weren’t used to feeling faint in the face of gravity. Weathersmith didn’t like it.
The mare extended her left foreleg, nearly letting go of Weathersmith, and a leathery wing attached to her leg and body with a series of tough straps caught the wind. In an instant, they flew, and the factory erupted into fire above them, raining glass and cloud around them.
“Don’t worry!” Windy shouted. “I got the hang of flying years ago. It’s just falling upwards.”
Weathersmith couldn't stop himself from screaming as he realized the only thing standing between him and being smashed to bits was a pony he had never met.
***
"Jeez, what the hay happened here?" Rainbow Dash asked as she shot across the sky, easily keeping pace with Spitfire and Fleetfoot. She eyed the scene of catastrophe on the horizon. "Looks like the time I messed with the factory, but worse."
Spitfire rolled to get a better view of the talented Wonderbolt reserve as they flew at breakneck speed. "Freak accident, we think. The weather factory above district eight had a critical failure. Then, the weather all over Cloudsdale began to act up."
Rumble-grumble-boom…
The sounds of danger emanated from the city before them. Rainbow shuddered despite herself. Thinking about the weather going out of control in a city built of weather would make anypony uneasy, awesome or otherwise.
"It was all manageable until the lightning got out of control,” Fleetfoot said. “It started a chain-reaction across the whole city."
Rainbow's eyes widened. "The whole city?" She shot in front of the pair, her voice becoming frantic. "What about Cloud Nine? My dad lives..."
"Cloud Nine too," Spitfire replied. "The whole city's in trouble, Dash. There’s been no loss of life yet, but a whole lot of injuries and damaged buildings."
Rainbow slowed down, letting the two Wonderbolts catch up with her. "Well, at least that’s something..."
"It’ll get worse if we don't fix the situation on the double," Spitfire replied. "We've got no plan for something this big. No plan worth two bits, at least. We've ordered weatherponies from all over Equestria to get their flanks over here to organize." Spitfire's brow furrowed. "For now, that's all we can do..."
Rainbow's eyes narrowed. "That's not good enough," she said.
***
"Help!"
The ear-piercing cry echoed throughout the entire street. Struggling to get to her hooves, what with the violent shifting of the clouds she stood on, a young pegasus filly named Darter Distress was close to tears. Everything was scary and loud. All the pictures had fallen off the walls and the windows had all broken, and the broken glass cut her hooves when she moved.
Worse still, she didn't know where her dad was. He had been at work, but that had blown up into factory parts and steam. Darter Distress stifled a sniffle. She didn't know what to do or where to go, and the houses looked like they were going to fall apart any minute now…
She crawled under the kitchen table, hoping it would, at least, keep anything heavy from crushing her flat. Another quake shook the house. One last vase that had managed to remain undamaged toppled over, shattering across the floor. She covered her eyes with her hooves.
"Help!"
C-cr-crash!
The ceiling caved in, covering the table in bits of cloud and furniture from upstairs. One of the table legs snapped, and the makeshift shelter became a trap.
Outside, she could see a tornado close in. This was it, she thought. She'd never see her dad again…
"Hoo, boy. That's one nasty twister, huh, mister?"
Voices crept in through the rubble. Her eyes snapped open, and she struggled to peer outside her wrecked house.
"Please, Miss Windy, I need to find my daughter. She might be in danger..."
Darter turned her gaze to a mare with an alien set of cloth wings strapped on her back. And next to her…
"Daddy!" she screamed, unable escape the collapsed table.
"Hey, you hear that, mister professor, sir?" Windy asked. Weathersmith turned and saw the filly, his eyes widening with fright.
"Darter!" he exclaimed, clambering through the rubble to get to her. Behind him, the tornado drew ever closer, making a beeline straight for them. It was as if it held a grudge against Darter.
"Watch out!" Darter shouted, gesturing behind him. Weathersmith didn't look back, but by the look in his eyes, Darter knew he was fully aware of what was coming for him.
"Oh, don't you worry about that old thing," the mare said, and with a deep breath, squared her stance and stared down the rogue weather. Even from this distance, Darter could see her eyes track seemingly invisible particles in the tornado. The mare’s eyes narrowed, and her makeshift wing spread open like a large, cumbersome fan.
Fwish!
The powerful winds plucked her from the cloud streets effortlessly. Darter let out a panicked shout at seeing her body get tossed around like a rag doll.
As if by magic, Windy sliced her ‘wing’ through the tornado in just the right place, crippling the flow of air within.
Darter’s eyes widened. That wasn’t normal, she thought. Tornadoes were fearsome and powerful, and they shouldn’t be abolished with one swipe of an artificial wing.
In the meantime, Weathersmith excavated his daughter.
"Oh, Darter!" he exclaimed, pulling the young filly from the wreckage of their house. "You're okay!"
Windy trotted up behind them. "Weather sure did a number on this place, huh? Good thing I arrived when I did."
Weathersmith turned back towards the mare, tears in his eyes. "You're... an Earth pony," he said.
"That's one weird way to say thanks," Windy replied. She looked back up at the horizon. "So, uh, looks like this place is a little compromised. You'll want to not stay here. At all. At a glance, I'd say Cloud Nine is safe for the time being."
"C-Cloud Nine?"
"Yeah. I saw it on the way here." Windy shrugged. "Am I getting the names mixed up? I'm from Fillydelphia, you see, and over there cities only have two dimensions, not three, y'know."
"You're from...?"
"Yup. Top weatherpony in my squad, at your service. The rest of my unit are over by district ten." Windy frowned, examining Weathersmith’s twisted wing. "You said you can't fly, right?"
Weathersmith shook his head. "N-no. We'll have to wait for rescue..."
"Pfft, nah. Why risk it?" The Earth pony mare removed her makeshift wings, unbuckling each clasp and undoing every button. "Put this on. You can use it to glide over to Cloud Nine." She began to strap the unwieldy device onto Weathersmith's back. "You get the little filly out of here, 'kay, and I'll come fetch it later."
Weathersmith's jaw dropped. "But... how'll you get around?! The streets are falling apart! How are you even standing on cloud?"
Windy shrugged, showing off her horseshoes. "There’s enough magic in these letting me walk on clouds, and I’ve had more practice at avoiding gravity than you guys." She finished her handiwork and pulled out a grappling hook from her saddlebags. "I always find a way." She turned to leave. "I'm off to find the source of this mess. Don't break my wings."
Windy turned to leave, adjusting her grappling hook as she trotted away. Weathersmith stood, holding his daughter with a bewildered look on his face.
"But... you're an Earth pony..."
Windy rolled her eyes as she dropped off the edge of the cloud.
“I’m a weatherpony.”
***
"Looks like Cloud Nine is secure!" Spitfire shouted over the din of the wind, spreading her wings like a shield to block out and slow down the gales tearing district ten apart.
Rainbow shot in the opposite direction as the wind, disrupting the air currents like a catapult-shot disrupted a picket fence. Her wings were on fire, every nerve burning from the effort she put into every move. She eyed the group of weatherponies down below.
"What are you slackers doing?!" she shouted. "Fly faster!"
"Hot wind coming in from below! Nothing we can do!" one of them replied, straining against the wind. "Only one pony can stop this district from getting torn to tiny pieces!"
Rainbow snorted and snarled. "Yeah, well it sure isn't you!" she snapped back. "We've got to try!"
***
Whoosh!
Fast as a blur and quiet as a whisper, Windy, the only Earth pony in Fillydelphia's weather team swung through the sky, her forelegs wrapped tightly around a tough, sturdy rope she carried with her at all times. Sweat was building between her hooves, and she tightened her grip.
Her grappling hook slid from the surface of the cloud it had been caught on, and just like that, she was free-falling once again.
Quick as a flash, she roped her grapple-hook back into her hoof and began spinning it around like a lasso, taking careful aim. One slip-up and she'd be falling for a very long time.
Things were easier when she had her team to catch her when she made a mistake. But no, this time she insisted on heading to district eight all on her own. Save the civilians, she said. It was like she had a death-wish. Gravity had a grudge against Earth ponies.
She took a deep breath and threw the grapple-hook. The sharp piece of metal caught on just the cloud she aimed for. Her muscles tightened and she swung.
She rose, catapulted by momentum, and she yanked the hook back towards her as she flew. Her eyes surveyed her surroundings. She saw a flash of colour. There, below, was her team.
Lazy buggers were barely keeping up. She rolled her eyes.
"If you wanna clear the weather, you gotta do it yourself," she muttered, landing heavily on a nearby cloud. She wrapped her grapple-hook and rope around her barrel, securing it in place for later use. "Time to work for a living."
Let's see... warm air rising from below. Probably caused by trapped pockets of steam from the power-plant. The hot wind was funnelled up through the streets and was going to cut through the city like a knife. The only thing holding it back was a flash of colour cutting the wind off at every turn. Whoever it was was one heck of a flyer.
Not as smart a weatherpony, though. Windy scanned the sky, and located just the tool she needed. A snowcloud.
"Time for you to cool off!" she exclaimed, and leaned to the side. "Just need a shot..."
***
Rainbow's wings strained against the force of the wind. Here, at the front lines, the fight versus the gale was the thickest. Behind her, district ten. In front of her, the unstoppable weather. Weather that refused to die down.
"C'mon... gotta slow down sometime..."
From below, she heard the Fillydelphia weatherponies cry out.
"There she is! We're saved, boys!"
Rainbow, distracted, fell a foot in the air whist trying to find who it was they were talking about. All she saw was the storm.
***
No good, Windy thought. She'd need to jump off the cloud to get a good shot.
She peered over the edge of her cloud, and tilted her head. She could hear her team cheer. She knew they had seen her. She ignored them. She needed to figure out whether she had time to jump, turn, fire, and then catch herself and escape before the inevitable collapse…
The wind broke off another portion of district ten. No more time to think. She'd apologize to her mother later, if she got a chance.
Windy took a few steps back, and removed a short, compact bow from her saddlebags, as well as a crystalline, almost transparent arrow. Clasping them both in her teeth, she took a deep breath. This part always made her shudder.
She sprinted towards the edge and gained speed, accelerating like a bullet. She cantered, galloped, and then jumped, straight into the void.
The emptiness clawed at her coat, and gravity pulled at her mane. Small pieces of debris and water bounced off her goggles. She spat out her bow and arrow, her stomach muscles contorting as she twisted around to face the snowcloud she spotted above her.
She clasped the handle of the bow in her hooves, knocked the arrow, and then pulled the string back using only her teeth. Who said only unicorns could use a bow and arrow, after all? She closed her left eye, taking aim. Account for wind. Air density. Time the shot…
Windy's keen weather-oriented mind accounted for every single change in pressure, every splatter of rain. The arrow soared up, straight up into the sky... and sank into the snowcloud.
Thunk!
Before the cloud even began to freeze solid, before the water frosted over due to the effects of the magic arrow, Windy was already untying her grappling hook. The cloud began to fall towards the source of the hot air... and her. Her team wouldn't have time to catch her. It’d just be her and an unwanted date with gravitational acceleration.
The grapple-hook flew from her hooves. She prayed to anypony that'd listen that it caught onto something.
Ka-chunk!
Bullseye. Gravity would have to reschedule.
***
"What the hay was that?!" Rainbow shouted as she ducked away from the giant frozen snow-cloud crashing into thousands of tiny, ice-cold pieces. The temperature dropped rapidly, and the wind along with it. She zoomed up towards Spitfire. "That came out of nowhere!"
“News from district eight!” came the voice of another pegasus. “The factory blew up, but the rest of the district only suffered superficial damage and all the civilians evacuated.”
"That's our boss," said one of the Fillydelphians. "She got that arrow trick from the Equestria Games."
Spitfire stroked her chin. "Windy Weathertop, right? I read her file. She took out the great hurricane of East Filly, right?"
"Yeah, with a hair-dryer and a hoof-ful of toothpicks," a weatherpony replied. "And she still made it back to HQ before dinner." He peered down into the mess of broken ice and cloud. "She's the best weatherpony in the world."
"Think she escaped?" Rainbow asked.
Spitfire shook her head. "I don’t know. Windy doesn't have wings.”
Rainbow tilted her head to the side, flying face to face with the Wonderbolt captain. "Uh, excuse me? What kind of weatherpony doesn't have wings?"
Spitfire's frown deepened. "The determined kind," she said. She looked up at the sky. "Think she’s all right?"
"She's alive," said another weatherpony. "She always survives."
Spitfire set her jaw, demanding attention. "Two of you search for her, and if anypony finds her, drop everything and help her." Her every feather bristled. "If she really is a genius, she might be Cloudsdale's only hope, but we can't waste horsepower when we need to evacuate more civilians to Cloud Nine." She turned to leave. "Rainbow, you head east. There are a trio of twisters tearing up Wonderbolts headquarters, and it needs to stop.”
Rainbow saluted. "Uh, yes ma'am."
***
The cloud hovered a foot or two above the young filly's hooves. No amount of stretching got her any closer. Windy grit her teeth. Just climb a little higher, she thought...
"Come down!" shouted one of the foals watching from below. "If you fall, you'll just hurt yourself!"
Windy scrambled higher still. The branches were as thin as pencils now, and the leaves were getting in her eyes. It was those stupid leaves that had caught the cloud in the first place. The filly climbed up some more, but the branches began to snap under her weight. There wasn't getting any higher.
There had to be a way, she thought.
"Give up! It's too high for you!"
Windy's eyes widened as an idea struck her.
She began shaking the branches with her forelegs, rustling them together violently. A few of the twigs snapped. Bit by bit, the cloud began to shake itself free of the upper branches.
"It's working!" she grunted to herself.
With a decisive snap, the cloud popped out of the tree canopy. The wind caught it and it floated back into the sky, back where it belonged. Windy beamed.
"Woohoo! I did it!" she shouted.
The branches below her bent and snapped. Windy's eyes widened. Gravity paused for dramatic effect.
"Uh-oh."
From the tallest tops of the tree she fell, tumbling from branch to branch, the leaves whipping past her face. She let out a scream of fright. Then she landed.
"Are you o—" began one of her friends, trotting over to see if she was okay. He squinted. "Oh, jeez...!"
Windy lifted her head and looked at her flank. There, where there used to be blank fur, was a cutie-mark representing a series of stormclouds. A grin broke across her face, despite the pain in her legs.
"My cutie-mark!"
"Well, you've gone and done it now," her friend said. "That's a weatherpony cutie-mark." He looked at Windy. "Your parents'll have a fit."
“Never mind that,” Windy said. “I think I broke something…”
Windy's eyes snapped open, and she groaned. Still alive, apparently. That'd be another close call for the diary. The wind whipped at her mane like so many tree-leaves. She craned her neck to look down at her flank. Yup. Still a weatherpony cutie-mark. Not even almost being crushed changed that.
She sat herself up. She must have knocked herself unconscious after using her grapple-hook to escape the falling snow-cloud. She rubbed her head. It felt like the morning after a regular Friday back home.
She got to her hooves and surveyed her surroundings. Her team was gone. Probably fixing some problems elsewhere. That wasn't what interested Windy. What interested her was the wind. Without the distracting hot air muddying her vision, her experienced weatherpony eye could read the sky like a manual. She readied her hook and rope, and planned out her trajectory. Any thoughts of her near-death experience were pushed to the back of her mind, like they always were. She needed to get to the power-plant at the heart of Cloudsdale as fast as possible.
Cr-cr-cra-a-ack!
Lightning flashed across the sky as Windy swung on her grapple-hook from cloud to cloud. Her body arched with every swing around floating pieces of cloud and falling debris. She shifted her weight in such unnatural motions to an Earth pony most of her kind wouldn’t have known what muscles she used.
"Not a job for an Earth pony..." she muttered to herself. "Tell that to my cutie-mark, Mom..."
A sudden gust of wind dislodged her hook from its cloud, and she began tumbling straight down. The wind rushed past her, pieces of hail bouncing off her goggles. The cold at this altitude was unbearable to most Earth ponies. Windy had trained herself to ignore it.
She flipped and strung her bow as she fell, aiming for a distant cloud. She fired, letting loose an arrow and rope. The arrow sank into the cloud, and Windy swung on the rope, grunting and panting. There, she hung for a moment. Her muscles burned. Not even the cold could do anything about that. The wind swung her left and right. Not far away, a large cloud shaped to form a supermarket fell to pieces, spilling produce across the landscape below.
She shouldn’t have given her artificial wings up, she realized. She began to pull herself up the rope, grunting with each inch she rose. But if she hadn’t, that old stallion might still be in trouble…
The plant wasn't far away, she realized. She grit her teeth, forcing some additional strength into her already powerful forelegs.
Ponies back home said she had no rival in the weather business, but that wasn’t true at all. Windy’s rival followed her wherever she went, like a bad smell. It tempted her from the sky, slowed her down, made her life miserable. Her rival was gravity, and the only thing that would stave it off, day after day, was grit. She pulled herself up to the cloud and scrambled onto the top, lying on her back for a minute to catch her breath.
Just a minute’s rest, she thought. That’d be all she needed.
After her strength returned to her, her grappling hook was in her hoof again, and she returned to her journey more exhausted than ever. She launched herself towards the power-plant, and landed, spinning and rolling over herself as she bounced across the landing-platform at the entrance.
How much longer did she have? She remembered the way the wind currents broke the clouds apart, and by her estimate, they’d only get worse. Let’s see… maybe fifteen minutes before the plant tore Cloudsdale apart? Not long, that was for sure. Then the only ponies with a chance of survival were the ones with wings. The winds were getting out of control. Clearing the weather around the city was like emptying a bathtub of water with a teaspoon whilst the tap was still running.
The tap had to be turned off. Then, even teaspoons would be able to make a difference.
She panted and trotted towards the door to the power plant. Thoughts and schemes raced through her head. If the power-plant couldn't shut itself off, there was no way she'd be able to stop this on her own…
"Captain Spitfire says there's only one Earth pony up here right now," came an unfamiliar, youthful voice, "So I'm gonna guess you're Windy Weathertop, from Filly."
The flightless weatherpony quickly recognizing the multi-coloured pony she had glimpsed earlier. "That's right. Hey, are you a weatherpony?"
"Wonderbolt reserve. The name's Rainbow Dash."
Windy nodded. "Great. Listen, there's a lot to do and not a lot of time to explain. If we can't shut the power-plant off or get it away from here ASAP, Cloudsdale is doomed." She ran her hoof across her neck. "Gone. Obliterated. History. As passé as wearing baseball caps backwards. Ya get me?"
The pair made their way into the plant, Rainbow's wings flapping erratically. "How obliterated? Even Cloud Nine?"
"Even Cloud Nine," Windy said. "The plant will pump lightning into the clouds and at this altitude it can’t jump to the ground. That means more bad weather. That means less Cloudsdale. We need to shut this place down."
Rainbow bit her lip. "You don't know how power-plants work, do you?"
Windy shook her head as they rounded one last corner. "Nope. I’m just a beat weatherpony. I never bothered learning the factory side of things..." she said, and stared at the centre of a large, hangar-like room, her jaw dropping to the floor.
Rainbow sucked in her breath through her teeth. "Yeah, uh... See, there's a reason they call it a power-plant."
The large, gargantuan, monstrous mass of vines and flowers twisted and turned inside the building. Wires were clamped to little leaves and sparked with electricity. Nearing the top of the larger-than-life plant was a huge flower, so big you could build a house on top.
"It's an actual plant?" Windy asked, her jaw dropping. "A four-storey flora?"
"It's a voltvine," Rainbow said. "They only grow in the sky and they power our lightning." She folded her forelegs. "Every pegasus knows this."
"I'm not a pegasus," Windy said. "I'm guessing this thing doesn't have an off-switch?"
"Nuh-uh."
Windy began to sweat. "Then we need to get this thing near the ground so that the lightning can connect with the earth instead of the city." She spun towards Rainbow. "I'm gonna need two-dozen hydrogen rockets, four hundred metres of duct tape, some deodorant, and matches."
Rainbow landed heavily. "That's insane! Where do you expect to find deodorant in a factory? There's got to be another way."
"Not unless you can fly past the speed of sound and are strong enough to push this power-plant out of the sky," Windy replied.
Rainbow smirked. Windy broke into a smile.
"You, I like. Listen closely, I have a plan..."
***
Rainbow soared out by the landing platform. Windy moved to the larger-than-life buttons and switches controlling the titanic, out of control electric currents. She looked up at the voltvine, narrowing her eyes as she followed the faint disturbances in the cloud factory’s structure, following the phantom traces of lightning.
Her hoof moved towards one of the heavy switches, and she stroked the surface of the handle whilst her gaze observed the ceiling and walls.
“If I release the lightning here…” she muttered to herself, and turned the switch on.
Lightning crackled across the roof, and she felt the room shift. She saw the cloud begin to break up as the electric currents reacted with the building in ways it was never supposed to.
The factory workers would have been too caught up in thinking how the factory was supposed to work to exercise this kind of control. Windy never knew how it worked in the first place, so all she saw was the weather.
Pegasi spent their entire lives in the sky. They lived it, breathed it. They were born on clouds, and from that day forth, they’d always be up there, looking down on the Earth ponies and unicorns below, blessed with a gift Windy would never truly understand.
Windy had been born on the ground. She had spent her life looking up. She had seen clouds every day, had listened to the wind every cold night, had watched the snow fall from high above. Where pegasi were blinded by the snow around them, Windy could see every shift in wind current, every cirrus cloud, every blizzard.
Who else would be the best weatherpony in the world, if not an Earth pony?
She began flicking switches, studying the lightning discharge overhead. She grit her teeth. Any minute now, the electricity would reach critical levels and likely run through her to the ground. She’d have to adjust for that.
She pulled a set of four thick, rubber boots from her saddlebags, and put them on in a businesslike manner whilst still adjusting the switches.
Crack!
The lightning flashed past her. If not for her goggles, she’d have been blinded. If not for her wellies, she’d have been burned to a crisp. Her blood pumping in her ears, Windy kept working.
If she could just use the lightning discharge to separate the voltvine from the rest of the factory, and then a strong pegasus could...
She paused. Wait. No, no, no, it wouldn’t work. The excess power she wielded at this control panel wasn’t enough to break the whole cloud. She looked up at the voltvine. She needed more.
She closed her eyes. Rainbow was on a tight schedule. If Windy waited, she’d hit the factory and it wouldn’t budge. Rainbow would be splattered across the building like an egg dropped from the top of Canterlot Castle. Windy would fall to her doom as the factory broke apart in the worst way imaginable: right in the center of Cloudsdale, where the lightning would rip the city apart.
Pretty grim either way. Windy squared her jaw.
"Time to die for a living," she muttered, and grabbed a large cable and began dragging it across the floor. She grunted, clambering up the side of the voltvine. Sparks flew up around her boots and into her eyes. She felt the heat of burning rubber around her hooves, and then again when the magic in her horseshoes got fried. She let out a sharp cry of pain.
Just climb a little higher...
She reached the oversized flower at the top. From here, she could see dozens, hundreds of small buds glow with the intensity of little stars. She shielded her eyes.
“Hey there,” she said. “Got some spare energy for me?” she asked, and then dropped the cable onto the center of the flower. Instantly, electricity arced around her, singing her fur and catapulting her down the voltvine.
The lightning burned through the cable and into the cloud, cutting a circle around the voltvine, separating it from the cloud that housed it. All it needed was Rainbow’s push…
BOOM!
Windy bounced off a voltvine root, and her muscles clenched and spasmed as she got electrocuted. She saw the clouds break apart. She heard the sound of the huge flying plant crumble down. She felt gravity finally catch up with her, after all these years.
The magic in her horseshoes gone, she fell through the floor.
She couldn’t get a grip on her grapple-hook due to the shock. She couldn’t orient herself in time to see where to throw it. She only felt the claws of her last fall awaited her wrap around her and squeeze.
“Hello gravity, my old friend…”
She closed her eyes. Even for the greatest weatherpony, there was a price for playing where only those with wings could go.
She felt gravity loosen its grip.
She opened her eyes again.
"Heh, you look like you gave up for a second there," Rainbow said. "Didn't anypony tell you that weatherponies stick together?"
***
The light of the moon poured in through Windy's window as she slid across her apartment floor, her muscles still aching from hours earlier.
She trudged to her calendar, dropping her saddlebags and the artificial wings she had retrieved from Weathersmith. She pulled out a pen from a nearby drawer and scratched off that day's date. Another day survived. Hurrah for the flightless bird.
Ring-ring! Ring-ring!
Windy trotted to her phone and picked it up, pinching it between her ear and neck. "Yeah, hello?" she asked. She sighed. "Yeah, hi, Mom."
She pulled the phone with her as she made her way to the kitchen for food. In all the excitement, she had forgotten she had run out of proper ingredients. Oh well. Cereal it was.
"Yeah, I'm fine. Had a few close calls, but I still kicked butt."
She poured cereal into a bowl, followed with a healthy dose of milk.
"I know it's dangerous, but what else am I supposed to do?" Windy replied, rolling her eyes. "It's my job, and hey, I saved lives today."
She went quiet for a moment, listening carefully.
"No, I... Mom, I know. You think I don't know? Every time gravity comes calling... and believe me, it calls a lot... I remember. But it's what I'm good at."
She sat down into her couch, bowl of cereal in hoof.
"No, it's okay. I kinda like having somepony worry about me." She smiled. "Nopony else gets it. They just see what I can do, not what I’m risking."
She sunk her spoon into the bowl.
"Thanks, Mom. I'll be careful. One day at a time." She ran her hoof through her mane and threw her goggles next to her. "I gotta eat. Call you later? Bye."
She let herself sink into her couch. She’d see gravity again tomorrow. Hopefully she’d be blowing it a raspberry as she escaped its clutches yet again.
***
The End
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So as a meteorologist and phd student in atmospheric science I had to comment that seeing this in the latest stories got my attention. So I'm going to read it now and see what happens.
I may comment on the weather aspects
6999799 You uh... Might have issues with the weather.
I didn't exactly aim for scientific accuracy.
Good story, few Grammer errors I saw but otherwise a really interesting take on a weatherpony. I think this is the first time I heard of a earth pony in cloudsdale. Keep writing her she's unique.
6999821 Could you point to the errors you found? I'd love to correct them if possible.
I'm glad you liked it though!
Will this story get a sequel?
7000037 I doubt it'll get a direct sequel, but I am rather fond of Windy Weathertop, so it's entirely possible I might feature her in other stories, like some of her adventures in Fillydelphia or how she came to learn many of her tricks. I'm not sure at present.
Okay, this was a fun ride. I thought that Windy's ability to "see" the weather was a rather creative touch.
Windy almost looks kinda like White Lightning in the coverart.
Thanks for writing!
7000202 She does look similar, doesn't she?
The artist would never have caught onto that, though, especially if I didn't. He doesn't actually watch mlp. In fact, the only reason he knows about as much as the average brony is because I yammer on about fanfiction to him constantly. Honestly, the guy must have a limitless supply of patience for obnoxious bronies.
Oh, wait, he doesn't. I just buy him drinks now and then to make up for it.
Windy is a nicely crafted character and done in only six thousand some words?
Impressive.
7002885 I had a word limit to work with. Actually, GDocs (the program I use to write and edit the story) said I was around 500 words less than my current count, which is a tad over. I think it's 5817, but I'm not sure.
Long story short, there are a few less words than the story says there is, too.
I'm glad you like her. I've become a bit fond of her myself.
Kudos.
7004753 Cheers! I hope you enjoyed it.
7005044 No probs. I was really fond of that line! Would you believe Z actually wasn't too keen on it?
Glad you enjoyed it. Means a lot!
7005072 Thanks! Sorry you didn't have time to participate yourself.
7005047 I just wasn't keen of where it was.
7005075 Ha! Nah, I get that. I figured we resolved it after our skype call, though.
Very neat story. I don't typically see you write many OC-centric stories, but this one was cool. I have an affinity for ponies playing against their given race too, so that helps.
I did notice one minor error:
I think you meant:
Or at least I think that makes more sense. Just a suggestion.
In any case, it was a fun, action movie-style tale.
7005106 I guess I'll go and fix that! To be honest, it's the sort of thing that goes completely over my head. Would you believe I've not actually had a formal English class since I was around nine?
Although, I'm not sure if it needs the 'in' or not. I don't suppose you could elaborate? My grammar skills are failing me.
7005119 The "in" may or may not be strictly necessary, but it makes the meaning clearer. Typically one is "caught up in" something or "caught up with" something to mean they are preoccupied with or focused on the details (as opposed to the big picture). When you say you're "caught up doing something" that means you're either up to speed or delayed in doing it.
Thus "caught up thinking" might imply that they were delayed by thinking about it. But "caught up in thinking" means they were wrapped up in the details. Both sort of work in this context, but I think you meant the second one a little more.
7005186 Fair play, I can get behind that.
Fixed!
Glad you liked the story! Thanks for the grammar assist.
7005190 I certainly did, and you are welcome!
7005214 I always try and respond to grammar comments. To be honest, I'm one of those annoying people who can get by really easily grammatically by just plain writing things the way they should sound without understanding any of the rules behind them.
I also try to never change things blindly, so that's why I sometimes ask for clarification.
I'll have to get to yours sooner or later. I'm in the middle of reading this story about a pony named Deepthroat Cockslut (ah, thank you, fandom) for The Goodfic Bin, then I have this one that's been recommended to be endlessly by other blokes. I actually had the intention of getting to the Iron Horse as soon as I returned to looking at self-submissions. You'll probably see me do the odd review of Everfree stories, since I really like going out of my way to read some good ole contest entries, especially since they're often so much shorter than others (I have a really lethargic reading speed of around 160 words per minute).
7005225 No problem, my friend. You've got a lot on your plate, and it'd be selfish of me to ask you to set all that aside. Whenever you have the time or will to tackle that beast, I appreciate it and hope you like it.
And I find that a lot of people who are good at grammar are much the same way. I know it because of my profession, but before I had to learn it, I had decent grammar by sheer convention. I wonder if ponies have grammar-themed cutie marks?
7005283 Pfft, please. I respect selfish behaviour. Makes the world go round, and if anything can get a mass that big rolling, I'm all for it.
After all, if you're not selfish, you're shellfish. I made that up.
Yeah, I did a whole lot of reading when I was younger (mostly Terry Pratchett with some Angie Sage here and there, with a soupcon of Chris Riddel) but never had a proper English class that went further than 'Brian is in the kitchen'. It's why most of the classic authors I'm familiar with are French: they're just what I learned off in la belle France.
What profession do you have, again? I think you told me once, but I can't seem to recall.
7005298 English as a Second Language teacher, mostly focused on English for Academic Purposes (basically I help kids learn to speak and write English well enough to enter a university).
And I absolutely love Terry Pratchett. I literally cried when I found out he'd passed away.
But as for literature, and education in general, I'm a firm believer in the idea of education being a more fluid thing with lots of room for individual paths of learning. If that's all the English class you had and you're as involved in writing as you are now, I'd say it was enough.
7005320 Terry Pratchett was brilliant. The biggest praise I think I ever got was a few commenter saying I wrote a bit like him, and it's something I'm supremely proud of. In fact, one of the only comments the russian translation of one of my stories got was that it felt like a Pratchett story. I personally don't think I deserved it, but I still loved the compliment.
I think the main reason I'm as involved in writing as I am is a bit out of three reasons.
The first is it's therapeutic, because ponies are cool. This is something I didn't think I'd need but I spend a massive amount of time very stressed because of university, likely because I nearly failed my first year. I've since become awesome, of course, but writing is a great way to get a load off.
The second is ego. I started because I got a bit bored by a lot of very same-y AppleDash stories, so naturally my first thought was that I could do better. I couldn't at first, but wanting to be the best kind of got me stuck here. Essentially, I won't be able to leave until I win. Which will likely never happen, since being the best at writing is like trying to be the best orange at a pineapple convention.
The third is that I became fascinated by the similarities between writing and engineering. It's really quite amazing. As soon as you start writing with a set purpose in mind, for me it stopped being pure art and started being something you could design, which is both weird and amazing. The words are the nuts and bolts, and the rest of the story, concept, and method of storytelling relates to pure engineering method, which I've come to really love. It's very difficult to express with words.
7005348 My story isn't too different. I write fanfiction because it helps me unwind and because the creative process is itself invigorating. And way back in the day, in another fandom, I took a look at the state of fanfics that were being written and I thought, "My god, most of these are absolute crap. I could write a much better story than this!" And I think I did, for the time, though those early pieces kind of embarrass me now.
I tend to think that the MLP fandom tends to have a lot more in the way of good stories than the olden days, but I still find little niches I can fill. Like robot stories that aren't about Sweetie Bot, for example.
7005495 I attribute that to the fact that there's just so bloody many of the little buggers now that you kinda need to be pretty competitive to actually get noticed, not to mention damn persistent. It's not really an environment where you can pop out a fanfic without much effort and expect it to get noticed. It needs to fight to the death with all these other fanfics written by some blokes who have been writing since they were twelve.
Which ain't easy. I'm actually rather glad for this, since writing, despite the fact that it isn't easy, is very simply to just try. All you need is an internet connection and a keyboard, and it's not like, say, animation where you have to spend an ungodly amount of effort to learn how to make a cat lift its paw. That means that a lot of people who don't know how it works can give it a go without learning how it works (which is what I did!).
Naturally, I find that kind of atmosphere relaxing.
MLP is actually the first thing I ever wrote for. Believe it or not the first story I ever wrote and published is the first story I have on my FimFic profile, meaning I've only been writing for about a year and three quarters.
Brilliant and as with all good stories, too short for me.
7010044 The word count for Scribblefest might think otherwise!
Glad you enjoyed the story.
7010196 Sorry I'm in Oz, I don't know what scribblefest is but I guess it's a competition in the U.S. at some sort of Bronycon?
7010269 Pretty much, although it's not for Bronycon, but for Everfree Northwest.
Last year, one of my stories got an honourable mention, so I'm pretty excited about this year. The story in question was about Celestia taking a cab to Earth. I also often do small recommendations on my blog for stories that entered that I read and liked, so if you're interested, keep an eye out for those!
7010293 OK will do, hope you used a London cab, seems fitting somehow.
7010332 I don't think I specified what kind of cab she used!
The idea was to poke fun at Pony on Earth stories where the pony's arrival is made into such a big deal. By comparison, the inhabitants of the little town she visited didn't really mind. Maybe not 100% realistic, but bloody fun to write.
7010425 It was just an odd thought, must be the Pie family rubbing off on me a little.
The cover art and main character gives me a slight steampunk vibe... maybe I just need to lay off the steampunk stuff, who knows?
vintage.ponychan.net/chan/files/src/131941432089.jpg
7012987 The artist is actually a big steampunk fan. It was part of the reason I was able to wrangle him into producing a pony picture.
Howdy, Hap! So, just so you know, I did a review of this story. You can find it here. I think you'll be happy to know it's a positive one.
Since you honored my story with both reading it and giving a review, I figured it's only right that I return the favor.
Having followed your blog posts about the contest entries, I can see that your focus was on pointing out the flaws in stories rather than fawning over everything they did right. Not that I disapprove, I myself prefer to focus on giving feedback on negatives than just handing out pats on the back, and I'd be happy to do the same here as well now.
Just to not come across as a negative douchebag, I'll list off what I did like: the story has a nice arc to it, squeezes itself into the word limit without either being too short, too long, or being shameless sequel-bait. The premise and the action are nicely executed, it does come close to the vibe of the show in that sense, and the humor is decent as well. And above all, it's not Slice of Life, as almost everyone wrote SoL for this contest.
Now let's move onto not so nice things. Right off the bat, the names aren't very appealing. I was never a fan of extremely telling names, the only possible exception being a blatant parody fic (but even then it feels forced), and names like "Weathersmith", "Darter Distress" (geddit because she's in distress ololol), and "Windy Weathertop" are just... come on. It's like naming a blacksmith pony "Black Smith" or something. Even worse, the story clearly tries to tell us that Windy's mom doesn't approve of her career choice. Even so, she decided to call her kid something that fits a weatherpony? I guess Fate came along and told her to do so...
Speaking of Windy, she's a borderline Mary Sue. I get that this was kinda the point, the part where we learn she's a ponified MacGyver was a dead giveaway that this story places emphasis on being bombastic rather than realistic. I enjoy that, but at the same time I enjoy having tension in the story as well, and tension rarely came up in this case. Windy is said multiple times to be the best of the best, so why should I at all feel worried when she has to give up on her wings and use a grappling hook? She jumps around, shoots at clouds, and disables a power plant without breaking a sweat, so what's the point? And yes, we get it. Gravity is her enemy. You point it out like a hundred times. Gravity stopped being an interesting enemy when it stopped ever being a threat in the first place, as Windy never manages to slip up.
If the story were about the factory exploding, and a bunch of average joe weatherponies scrambling to fix it, with one of them being an average earth pony joe, that would be intense. We would see someone who is both at the mercy of the elements and handicapped by not having real wings.
This also makes the "competition" between her and RD fall flat, by the way. It's one thing to see RD taken down a peg by showing someone who's better at being a weatherpony than her, but another to basically make RD look bad in comparison (she feels outright bitchy and bossy in some parts).
Also, the "Power Plant". It was moderately funny and taking it a bit too far at the same time. I'd let it slide, but it drew attention to just how little sense the premise makes. So Cloudsdale has been making weather for all of Equestria for centuries, yet its weather factory can turn into a giant timebomb in less than an afternoon? It's fine if you give a clear reason for it, but currently it feels like the whole place is held together by rotting string and cardboard walls.
The sound effects are not very appealing. They let you cut down on words needed to describe what's going on, but seeing it every 2-3 paragraphs is a bit of an eyesore. It works in a comic book, but not so well in prose.
Overall, I give this a 7/10. Fun story, but doesn't balance tension and flashiness quite as well as it could.
Good luck in the contest!
7041595 I think that's pretty decent, actually. After all, if one of the, what, three not-nice-things you found were simply name choices, I think that says something pretty nice about the story.
I'm actually well aware of my tendency to focus on the negative, which is one of the reasons I tried to summarize my thoughts into the 'recommended to:' bit, to sort of reiterate the draw of the story. I suspect it's easier to talk about things you found negative. One of the funny things I noticed in my degree was that looking at a machine that worked was very dull, but as soon as something breaks everyone is ooh-ing and ah-ing over it for hours.
Obviously, that's not so great when you're at least trying to recommend stories to people.
I just realized something. Windy is quite similar to Gordon Freeman in Half Life. She's an earth pony leading a rescue mission in the sky, he's a scientist leading a flippin' war (with a crowbar, of all things!). Yet somehow, Windy irks me. Not really Windy, though. More the other characters who seem to be there to a) get rescued b) fawn over how awesome she is (whilst doing nothing) or c) provide occasional assistance. It feels like, while Freeman is a hero who inspires the citizens of City 17 to action, Windy is a hero who merely inspires awe. Freeman is a flag to rally to, the one who will lead us to freedom. Windy is a protecting demigod, who will save us. And probably the worst part is, Windy seems to be the only one who realizes she can die. I'm probably being over-critical, though. Other than her high pedestal, I really enjoyed this.
7049474 I don't know enough about Gordon Freemen to comment on that aspect, but you're not far off a rather subtle thing I was aiming for. Windy was always supposed to have a high pedestal (since she's supposed to be the 'best' weatherpony') but the fact she's very good at what she does kinda makes people forget her limitations at the same time.
In the end, she's not meant to inspire anyone else: she's there to be a weatherpony. It's her job. That's pretty much all she's good at. The thing is, because she's so adept at it due to her being able to creatively adapt to her situations, I wanted to play with the idea that everypony else forgot she had to adapt to her situation, and forgets how difficult it'd be for someone with her 'handicap', no matter how efficient she otherwise is.
It's something I wanted to approach for a while, and reminded me a fair bit of my martial arts instructor. He was super-badass. So badass, in fact, that every now and then when he reminded people he was in his sixties and more or less falling apart, it tended to take people by surprise, because all we saw was just a guy who moved too quickly for us to follow.
I reviewed this story as part of Read It Later #45.
You can find my review here.
this brings to mind.....
7125072 Uh, what's that from? I can't seem to remember what quote that is...
This story was pretty damn awesome!
it had all the right elements, and it`s a one-shot wonder that i can easily see ,yself recommending to others.
10\10 on the
itude meter!!!
7125101 Why thank you! I'm pretty fond of this one too. I'm very glad you enjoyed it. A lot of work went into this one.
And by all means, go forth! Recommend away! Don't let little old me stop you!
This story was amazing. Have a like.
7125400 Thank you! Glad you enjoyed it.
7125107 that, i have done (on facebook)!