*Alternate POV* Doings Elsewhere
As she approached the apartment door she knew so well, Octavia couldn’t hold back an anxious sigh. She had done the unthinkable: she had come to Ponyville without telling Vinyl in advance. She had a perfectly good reason for it, of course, but she was still in a state of mild trepidation.
“Celestia only knows what state her home’s in now,” she muttered to herself. “She only puts in the effort to clean when she knows I’m coming. Well, this is partially why I didn’t let her know. I have to see for myself just how bad she lets it get.”
Taking a deep breath, she knocked on the door. Ten seconds passed. No response.
“Tch,” muttered Octavia. “Probably napping until her next show. How anypony can just sleep the day away like that is beyond me.”
She chose to willfully ignore the times she’d drunk herself to sleep on Jura on a stressful day, and knocked again, louder than before. Finally, she heard something: a loud thud, the metallic sound of soda cans clanging together, then a set of hoofsteps approaching the door, followed by a groan.
“Come on, some of us are trying to sleep,” came a voice Octavia recognized only too well. “Have a heart, will ya?”
“I do have a heart,” said Octavia, raising her voice. “That’s why I’m here, you mare-child.”
There was a pause. Then, the door opened. Vinyl stood there, horn aglow, her eyes wide, and her mane even more disheveled than usual.
“Octy?”
Octavia gave her a small, but genuine, smile.
“Hello, Vinyl.”
With a delighted laugh, all tiredness forgotten, Vinyl launched herself at Octavia, flinging her forelegs around her. While the latter would normally have been glad to receive such affection from her dear friend, she was not overly fond of the smell of stale sweat coming from her.
“Good heavens, Vinyl!” she choked. “When’s the last time you showered?”
“Eh, just never got around to it today,” said Vinyl, dismissively, letting her go. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming, Octy? I would’ve gotten things ready for ya!”
“Slight change of pace,” said Octavia, her nose still wrinkled from Vinyl’s odor. “There’s something I’d like to discuss with you.”
“Well, come on in, then!” said Vinyl, eagerly.
Octavia stepped inside, and one second later, she came to a halt, wincing at both the sight and smell of Vinyl’s apartment, in its natural, undisturbed state.
Empty food containers, boxes, and cans littered the floor. Any laundry she had gone through was piled untidily in one corner, giving off a powerful, used aroma. The kitchen was visible from her vantage, and dishes were stacked high in the sink, still crusted with whatever Vinyl had been eating out of them. The couch had a very deep, pony-shaped impression in its ragged cushions, and the television was still on. An odor of sweat, stale food, and unwashed clothes hung like a presence over the whole scene, and this, Octavia grimly reflected, was only the living room.
“Make yourself at home,” said Vinyl, proudly, seemingly oblivious to her friend’s reaction.
“Er, right,” said Octavia. “Thank you.”
(Sweet Celestia, how has she survived!?)
She stepped gingerly through the detritus littering the floor and made her way to the couch. Smoothing one of the cushions as best she could, she settled herself upon it, upright. Vinyl, meanwhile, paused on the way to the kitchen.
“You want anything?” she asked.
“No, thank you,” said Octavia, politely.
Vinyl shrugged, disappeared into the kitchen, then came back with a bottle of orange soda held in her magic. She plopped herself unceremoniously next to Octavia, making the prim Earth pony start, flipped off the cap of her bottle, then took a generous swig. She gave a wipe at her mouth, licked her lips, and let off a rich belch. Octavia crinkled her nose in disgust as Vinyl patted her stomach in satisfaction.
“Scuze me,” she said, cracking a grin, making Octavia roll her eyes. “So, Octy, what’s on your mind? How come you’re not with your ensemble?”
“We’re currently not engaged at the moment,” said Octavia. “We’re on a bit of a break, as it were.”
“Sweet!” said Vinyl. “I mean, I’m not sayin’ you’re not doin’ somethin’ important with your music and all, but even ponies like you need time off.”
“And ponies like you could do with a little less leisure time,” said Octavia, with an slight bite in her voice. “Or, at the very least, put it to more constructive use.”
“Whoa, what’s that supposed to mean?” asked Vinyl, cocking an eyebrow.
“What’s it supposed to mean?” echoed Octavia, her voice rising, putting her hooves on her hips. “Vinyl, I know you enjoy wearing those sunglasses of yours at all hours, regardless of whether or not it’s sensible-”
Vinyl made a dismissive noise at this.
“-but are you actually blind? Have you looked at this place?”
She gestured around at the disorder surrounding them. Vinyl glanced around at it, nonplussed.
“So it’s a little messy, big deal,” she said, carelessly.
“A little messy?” Octavia repeated. “Vinyl, I never pictured you as the epitome of cleanliness, but this...How can you live this way?”
Vinyl merely shrugged.
“I just do, I guess. You know me, Octy: I don’t fuss about the details.”
Octavia took a deep breath, and sighed. Yes, Vinyl’s ability to stay cool as a cucumber, even in the most trying circumstances, was admirable, but this was just ridiculous!
“Vinyl,” she said, after a long pause, “the reason I came here, one of the reasons, anyway, is because I’ve made an important decision.”
“Yeah?” asked Vinyl, sounding mildly interested. “What’s that?”
“I’ve decided...to move to Ponyville.”
Whatever Vinyl had been expecting her to say, it was clear that this wasn’t it. Her eyes went as wide as dinner plates, her jaw dropping. She stared at Octavia, dumbstruck.
“Are you serious?” she asked, finally.
“I am,” said Octavia, nodding.
Vinyl’s expression of disbelief gave way to one of unmitigated joy. She had the look of one who had just been told Hearth’s Warming was coming early that year.
“Octy, that’s fantastic news!” she said, then asked, with a hint of smugness. “Ponyville’s really grown on you, hasn’t it? It’s not like Canterlot, is it?”
“It has an undeniable charm, yes,” Octavia conceded. “It certainly has a calmer atmosphere than the hustle and bustle of Canterlot. However, I’m not just moving here.”
Vinyl cocked a curious eyebrow again, waiting for Octavia to continue. After a pause, the prim Earth pony said,
“I would like for you to move in with me.”
Now, if the news that Octavia was leaving Canterlot to move to Ponyville was unexpected, it was nothing compared to this. Vinyl’s expression became blank, as though she was certain she hadn’t heard correctly.
“...Scuze me?” she asked, finally.
“If you’re willing,” said Octavia, “I would very much like it if you were to move in with me. I’ve already found a nice house just outside of Ponyville. With a little TLC, we can make it work to accommodate both of our work-lives. At all events, you won’t be getting noise complaints from neighbors anymore.”
Vinyl simply stared. Then, she snickered.
“Octy,” she said, “you’re pulling my leg.”
“I assure you, I’m not.”
Vinyl’s smile faded.
“Why?” she asked. “I can totally get behind you moving to Ponyville, but why do you want me to live with you? I figured you wouldn’t want to be around me 24/7.”
Octavia sighed. How was she supposed to help Vinyl understand?
“Vinyl,” she said, speaking slowly and deliberately, “the other reason I came to see you, without telling you in advance, was because I needed to see for myself what your living conditions were truly like. I had a feeling they were, well, rather poor, but I hadn’t realized they would be as bad as this. Let me finish,” she added, sharply, as Vinyl seemed about to interrupt.
“You only ever clean this place up when you know I’m coming to visit. You freely admit it yourself. Now I see that without me, you let this place, and yourself, go to pot. You can’t really be as happy about it as you’re letting on. I can’t help but feel that my absence is somehow responsible for this lack of attention to your own health. That worries me,” she added, her voice taking on a much gentler tone. “You can scoff and mock me all you want for being ‘sappy’, but I really, truly care about your well-being, Vinyl. I want to help you.”
Vinyl’s mouth was hanging slightly open. She seemed to be trying to find the right words, but couldn’t.
“I also can’t deny,” Octavia continued, with a wry smile, “that despite how much you get under my skin, I miss being around you. You, Vinyl Scratch, are a crass, obnoxious, loud, immature, overly-boisterous mare...but you’re also my best friend. I know the real you underneath all the wubs and partying, and it’s the real you that I want to save from living a second longer under these appalling conditions.”
She looked Vinyl straight in the eye, and the unicorn DJ was startled to see a sparkle of tears in those mulberry eyes of hers. She was serious. Words continued to fail her, something normally unthinkable for a pony like her.
“Octy,” she said, “this is some heavy stuff you’re laying down. I mean, I dunno what to say.”
Octavia placed a hoof on Vinyl’s shoulder.
“It’s all right, Vinyl,” she said. “You don’t have to choose right away. I’ve already decided on that house, whether or not you say yes. Please, just give it some thought, all right?”
Vinyl gazed into Octavia’s eyes for a long while. There wasn’t much of anything that could reduce her to such a state of serious silence, and yet, if ever there was, it was sure to be because of the pony sitting next to her right now. At last, she nodded.
“I’ll definitely think about it, Octy,” she said.
“Thank you,” said Octavia, in a quiet yet grateful tone. “Now, I hate to cut this short, but I’ve got to get down to city hall to finalize the paperwork.”
“Oh, right,” said Vinyl. “Well, don’t let me keep ya.”
Octavia smiled, and was about to sit up again, but before she did, she pulled Vinyl into a firm but gentle embrace. Vinyl was taken aback at first, but she soon hugged Octavia in return.
“In all seriousness,” said Octavia, a slight laugh in her voice, “you really could do with a good shower, Vinyl.”
“Oh, shut up,” said Vinyl, laughing herself.
***
“Hold the bottle tight, my dear, don’t let it slip. Remember what I told you: a dash, a drop, a drip.”
Apple Bloom was seated on the floor of Zecora’s hut, a potted seedling sitting in front of her. Zecora stood by her, watching, as the little filly, her tongue poking out in concentration, held a bottle of purplish-blue liquid in her hooves. She was holding the mouth of it over the seedling, the contents nearly close enough to the lip to start pouring out.
Unfortunately, Apple Bloom had been holding the bottle in that attitude for too long, it seemed. Her hooves trembled from trying to hold it steady, and in doing so, a large dollop of the liquid splashed onto the seedling. There was a puff of thick, blue smoke, and she started coughing as Zecora immediately grabbed a nearby palm fan and wafted the fumes away. Once they were gone, they saw that the seedling had become shriveled and dead-looking. Apple Bloom set the bottle down, looking glum.
“Ah’m never gonna get it right,” she said, sadly.
“Now, Apple Bloom, don’t you fret,” said Zecora, putting her hoof under Apple Bloom’s chin to tilt her head up. “You will do it the right way yet.”
“But Ah figured I’d already have learned somethin’ from helpin’ you out so much,” said Apple Bloom. “Ah mean, you’re really good at it.”
Zecora smiled gently.
“We all start from the beginning with whatever we do,” she said. “Why, even I failed the first time I tried to brew.”
Apple Bloom stared in disbelief.
“You? You messed up a potion?” she asked. “Ah don’t believe that!”
“I am not telling fibs, my little filly. It truly happened, and it was rather silly.”
“What happened?” asked Apple Bloom, eagerly.
Zecora went to one of her shelves and took down a small, drawstring bag. She then sat down beside Apple Bloom, gently shooing aside the shriveled seedling and the bottle of potion in the process. She took a hooful of the powder and blew it into the air, where it twisted and swirled into shapes, following Zecora as she narrated. Prominent was the image of a tiny little zebra, Zecora as a foal.
“I was about your age, give or take a year or two, when I decided it was time to try my first brew. My mother had been teaching me, you see, and on that day, I could not contain my glee. She wished to start me with something easy, but I found her warnings to be quite cheesy. I wanted to make a most amazing brew. I felt it was only fitting for my debut.”
“Wow,” said Apple Bloom, intrigued. “What kind of potion were you tryin’ to make?”
Zecora gave her a meek smile.
“To be honest, my dear, I don’t really know. I just grabbed what was handy and gave that a go. I was not picky, and there was much to pick at. I threw in a pinch of this, I dropped in a dash of that. My mother tried to warn me, but I was too eager to listen. I watched as my ingredients made the cauldron’s contents glisten. The potion was bubbling, frothing like mad, but I thought that was good. It made me feel glad.”
“So what happened?” asked Apple Bloom, eyes wide.
“My self-made concoction, my reckless recipe, blew up in the cauldron, splashed my mother and me.”
Apple Bloom gasped.
“W-Were you all right?” she spluttered. “What did it do to you?”
“Oh, we weren’t injured. We were quite all right,” said Zecora, with a rather grim smile. “Only, it turned green and blue what was once black and white.”
At first, Apple Bloom simply frowned, not quite understanding what Zecora meant. Then, as she looked at Zecora’s striped coat, her jaw fell open.
“Ya mean...it changed yer coat colors?” she asked.
Zecora nodded, chuckling. Apple Bloom started giggling, too.
“It could have been worse, you can be sure,” Zecora went on, “and it was not hard to find the cure. My mother was angry that I ignored her warning, but we soon came to laugh about it by next morning. She said, on the whole, it was not a bad start, and since then, I have taken her teachings to heart. I measure each ingredient, exact and precise, and by the end, the results are always very nice.”
The smoke imagery, which had twisted into a beaming little Zecora, faded away. Apple Bloom smiled up at it, then looked up at Zecora, who laid a hoof on her shoulder.
“We all start at the bottom, Apple Bloom, you see? It holds true for everypony out there. Even me. The important thing to remember is to never stop trying. In the end, the results will be quite satisfying.”
She smiled down at the little filly, who smiled back up at her and nuzzled her side. Zecora draped her foreleg tenderly around her.
“Thanks, Zecora,” said Apple Bloom. “That makes me feel a lot better. Yer right: Ah can only get better if I keep tryin’. ‘Course, I wonder if I’ll turn myself all sorts of colors, too, before Ah get there.”
Zecora burst into a hearty laugh at this, and Apple Bloom wasn’t long in joining in.
***
“...‘And they lived happily ever after. The End.’”
Nurse Redheart looked up from the book in her hooves. The little filly she had been reading to, Lily Longsocks, had been brought in with a bad cough and an alarming fever. It was the latest in a spate she and the rest of Ponyville’s medical staff had been dealing with since last week. The fever had died down somewhat, but Lily was still coughing in harsh fits, fits that looked painful to her, moreover. Redheart had decided to try and take her mind off her illness by reading her a story. Though it didn’t stop the coughing altogether, it seemed to lessen it as the Lily listened. Now, she lay snuggled up beneath her sheets, smiling up at her nurse with her blue eyes, her face framed by a pair of purple pigtails.
“Thanks, Nurse Redheart,” she said, her voice soft and a little hoarse. “I really like that story.”
Redheart smiled and patted the filly’s hoof.
“So do I, Lily. I could tell your favorite parts were with the princess’s animal friends.”
Lily giggled, though it broke off with a single cough.
“Now, then, it’s time for your medicine,” Nurse Redheart continued.
Lily groaned and pouted.
“Now, now,” said Redheart, in a gently reprimanding voice, “you have to take it, Lily. I know you’re quite strong for a filly your age, astonishingly so, in fact, but it’s not going to stop the flu. How else are you going to get better?”
“It’s so gross, though,” said Lily. “If it’s supposed to make me feel better, why can’t it taste good?”
Redheart laughed softly.
“You know, Lily, when I was your age, I’d often wonder the same thing. I didn’t like taking my medicine anymore than you did. However, my mother always gave me the same answer: ‘if it tastes bad for you, it’s even worse for what’s making you sick’. Well, I didn’t want to stay sick, so I took it. I always felt like spitting it back out, of course, but I took it all the same. I suppose if medicine tasted too good, the germs making you sick wouldn’t want to go away.”
“I do want the germs to go away,” said Lily, quietly, though she still didn’t sound too happy.
Smiling, Redheart reached over to her bedside cabinet, upon which was sitting a bottle and medicine cup, and poured out a measure of brownish liquid. Lily wrinkled her nose at the strong smell that came off of it. As Redheart held out the cup for her, she hesitated at her first, her muzzle scrunched up, but at last, she opened her lips, and Redheart gently poured the contents into her mouth. Lily’s face screwed up worse than ever, and for a second, it looked like she would spit the medicine right back out, but she swallowed, pulled a face, and said ‘Blegh’.
“Good girl,” said Redheart, setting the cup down. “Now, try and get some sleep, all right?”
Lily nodded, then settled back on her pillow, closing her eyes. With a soft smile, Redheart stroked her mane in a fond sort of way, then stood up and softly left the ward. She didn’t hear a single cough come from Lily as she closed the door behind her. The sound of hooves made her look up. Nurse Snowheart was coming down the hallway.
“Hello, Redheart,” she said, lowering her voice. “How’s Lily doing?”
“Much better,” said Redheart. “I sat up with her and read her her favorite story, then gave her her medicine. Her fever’s almost gone, and she’s coughing less.”
“That’s good,” said Snowheart, smiling. “I’ve just been to visit Screw Loose. It’s the darndest thing, but she’s really been improving lately. She still won’t speak, but she hasn’t been doing anything…’doggish’ the last few days. With any luck, we’ll finally be able to let her go out again.”
“Oh, wonderful!” said Redheart, happily. “Dr. Stable will be really pleased to hear that.”
“So will Screwball,” said Snowheart. “In fact, it’s almost time for her visit. Should I go meet her, or should you?”
“I’ll do it,” said Redheart.
“Thanks. I’ll go report to Dr. Stable, then.”
With that, the two nurses separated, Redheart heading for the main lobby. She couldn’t quite remember now just how long Screw Loose had been a patient here. She could, however, still vaguely recall her first being brought in, barking and howling like a caged dog. It hadn’t been easy figuring out what to do for her, as she was in no state to speak intelligibly. However, Redheart had noticed, as Snowheart had, that recently, she was much tamer than she had been before, less inclined to act like the dog she must’ve thought she was. Seeing patients overcoming their ailments and becoming happy again was what Redheart loved most about her job. The smiles on their faces, knowing that the worst was over, was her favorite thing to see.
(Just like Pinkie Pie), she thought to herself, with a smile.
As she came out into the lobby, there, sure enough, was Screwball. She must’ve just walked in. Upon catching sight of Nurse Redheart, the quirky pony’s face broke into a big smile, and she slid across the floor to stand in front of her, as though she had been pushed across a bed of ice. Redheart had become far too used to Screwball’s ‘peculiarities’ to pay much mind to them these days.
“Hello, Screwball,” she said, kindly. “I hope you’re doing well today.”
Screwball nodded, her head jangling as though full of keys. She then pointed at Redheart, raising one eyebrow inquisitively.
“Why, I’m doing wonderfully, thank you,” said Redheart, “and somepony you know very well is feeling just the same, I hear.”
Screwball’s smile became, if possible, even broader. They even glinted in the glare of the lobby’s ceiling lights, though it was a whole rainbow of colors rather than a simple flash of white.
“Come on, then,” said Redheart. “She’ll be really happy to see you.”
The two started off down the hallway, Screwball keeping very close to Redheart’s side, so close that they were cheek to cheek. Redheart said nothing. She merely smiled. It wasn’t just the happiness of her patients that she loved to see; the joy of their friends and loved ones was equally warming to her already warm heart.
***
The rain was coming down in buckets, hammering against the curtain-covered windows of Daring Do’s cottage. Daring herself was sitting before the fire, cozily drinking in the atmosphere. She was warm, dry, and comfortable, and had no intention of getting up anytime soon. After the busy month she’d had, which involved giving one of Caballeron’s goons, who had been tailing her, the slip (a rather hard task, as he was as persistent as he was dim), and tricking another one out of the map he’d been carrying by way of a clever disguise, she felt she rightfully earned a little siesta.
“I’ll look into that map tomorrow,” she muttered, drowsily. “It’s not going anywhere anytime soon. Besides, this is no weather to go adventuring in.”
All of a sudden, there came a knock at the front door. Daring sat up, her ears perked, her eyes narrowed. Had Caballeron and his goons found her after all? If so, she had to admire their tenacity in braving this downpour.
With a rapidity that only constant practice had turned into a near-reflex, she launched herself from her favorite armchair, opened a nearby wardrobe, and whipped out her ‘A.K. Yearling’ ensemble. As she started dressing herself, she couldn’t help grinning. Velvet had advised her to come up with a disguise to go along with her alias, and the look of a middle-aged and mild mare was the perfect cover; it gave ponies the proper impression of an author when they saw her photograph in the backs of her books. Some had even joked, in letters, that she looked like she could be ‘Daring Do’s mother’. She took that as a compliment; it meant it worked perfectly.
Ensuring that she was still unrecognizable as her true self, she hurried to the door as another knock came. It sounded urgent.
“Who is it?” she called.
“Somepony in desperate need of shelter,” came a voice.
It was muffled, but it sounded like a colt’s. Daring hesitated. Should she let him in? What if he was in league with Caballeron or Ahuizotl? She wouldn’t put it past them to lure her into a false sense of security, especially after what happened with-
She winced. She hated being reminded of that moment…
“Please,” came the voice, imploringly.
Daring bit her lip.
“All right, come in,” she said, finally, opening the door.
Somepony slightly taller than she was hurried inside, a thick, hooded raincoat enveloping him and keeping his face hidden. As she shut the door against the pounding rain, the stranger stood there, shivering slightly, his coat dripping onto the floor.
“Some weather the pegasi have cooked up, huh?” asked Daring.
“And how,” said the stranger. “I’m sorry for the intrusion. The rain caught me unawares while I was walking, and your home was the only shelter in sight.”
“Oh, don’t worry about it,” said Daring, waving an airy hoof. “I couldn’t just turn you away like that, not in this weather. I wouldn’t wish this on my worst enemies. Now, why don’t you take that coat off and go warm yourself by the fire?”
“Gladly.”
There was a flare of earth-brown light from beneath the coat’s hood, and the whole thing was whisked off to be set on the rack by the door. Bereft of his outer covering, the stranger was now revealed to be a unicorn colt in his early teens. His coat was a sandy yellow, his short, boyish mane and tail chocolate brown, like his eyes. There were a few freckles at the bridge of his nose, and his cutie mark resembled a wooden stick shaped like an elongated letter Y.
Daring stared at him, her eyes searching him up and down, frowning slightly. There was something about this colt, something...familiar, but what-
Then, as her gaze took in his cutie mark, her mouth fell open. She stared up into the mild, placid face of the colt before her.
“You...it can’t be,” she murmured.
Slowly, she took off her glasses, still staring.
“Dowser?”
The colt smiled broadly.
“It’s good to see you again, Daring,” he said. “Even after this long, I still remember where your house is, like the back of my hoof. And even if that disguise does work really well, I’d know your voice anywhere.”
Daring continued to stare, her rose-colored eyes wide and goggling.
“B-But, I mean, what are you doing here?” she finally spluttered. “I thought-”
Dowser raised an amused eyebrow.
“What, no ‘hello’? No ‘how are you’? Wow, Daring, has it really been that long? You’ve gotten cold.”
This seemed to shake Daring out of her stupor, as she smiled and gave a slight giggle.
“You know I didn’t mean it like that,” she said.
She trotted over, leaned up, and threw her foreleg around his neck in a warm hug. Beaming, Dowser draped a foreleg around her in turn.
“It’s good to see you, too, kiddo,” she said, pulling away from him. “I still can’t believe it! This can’t be the little Dowser who tagged along with me so many times! It’s only been, what, a year or two?”
Dowser chuckled.
“Hard to believe, isn’t it?” he asked. “I was afraid you wouldn’t recognize me at all. I’m glad you did.”
Daring smiled, then clapped a hoof to her forehead, as though reminded of something.
“Ah, look at me,” she said, “leaving you standing here after you just came in from the rain! Please, make yourself comfortable!”
“Thanks,” said Dowser.
He set himself on a second armchair set before the fire, while Daring bustled off to the kitchen. She returned with a tea tray balanced across her back, held in place by her wings. She had dispensed with her disguise as well. She set the tray down on a coffee table set between the chairs, poured out tea for both of them, then sat down in the one she had vacated only minutes before, holding her own cup.
“How’ve you been doing?” she asked. “I know the last time we saw each other wasn’t…”
She paused, trying to find a proper word while looking guiltily at Dowser. However, he gave her a kind smile.
“I’ve been doing great,” said Dowser. “I may not have been traveling the world with you, but my own adventures are what bring me here.”
Daring’s face relaxed into a smile of its own.
“I picked up your series, and looked through the last bit on my airship ride over here,” said Dowser. “Reading your books is like a trip down memory lane, though since the last one was the last time we saw each other, I’m hoping you haven’t been idle all that time.”
Daring giggled.
“Not by a long shot,” she said. “I’ve got plenty of material ready to send to my friend and editor. I just don’t want to give my readers too much at once. I didn’t think you’d actually read them, though.”
“Of course I would,” said Dowser. “Although,” he added, wryly, “you write how things happened a lot better than I ever could, and you don’t mind details, either. Heh, remember when you got stuck in that hole in the wall, trying to grab the key to the Staff of Star Swirl’s chamber?”
Daring frowned slightly.
“I remember you taking your time coming to pull me out,” she said.
“I know, I know,” said Dowser, still grinning, “but it was hilarious: your rump and hind legs just sticking out of the wall, kicking like you were throwing a tantrum. You even wrote ‘the hole was obviously not made for a pony of Daring’s mareish figure’.”
“Tch,” said Daring. “If the key hadn’t been in so deep, I wouldn’t have gotten stuck.”
“I did offer to just magic it out,” said Dowser, “but nooo, you said they’d have planned for that. So, in your eyes, unicorn magic is less safe than just grabbing something with your bare hooves or wings.”
Daring rolled her eyes.
“Ok, ok, so I don’t always make the right decisions,” she conceded. “I’m only a pony at the end of the day.”
“I know,” said Dowser. “I was only teasing you.”
Daring’s face eventually relaxed back into a smile.
“You’re definitely still the same Dowser I remember,” she quipped. “Cheeky and cheerful.”
Dowser smirked.
“But enough about me,” said Daring. “I want to hear about what’s been going on with you. You never told me why you left the Pygmy Ponies.”
“Ahh, right,” said Dowser. “Well, they were very accommodating, especially after what we did to save them from Ahuizotl, and I stayed with them for several months after we parted. One day, though, I was browsing through some of their old texts when I read something that caught my interest.”
“Oh?” asked Daring. “What’s that?”
“Figuring that out,” said Dowser, his expression becoming more serious, “and going to see for myself, is why I’m here now.”
Daring raised an eyebrow.
“I’d only just come back to Equestria when I heard the news,” Dowser continued. “You know about the Brimstone Lounge opening up?”
“Of course,” said Daring. “Couldn’t believe it when I read about it, but it sounds fascinating. Plus, it’s about time ponies and dragons agreed on something for once.”
“I agree,” said Dowser. “But that’s not what caught my attention. Have you also heard about the human living in Ponyville?”
“Oh, sure,” said Daring, “but I didn’t need the papers to tell me that. He’s friends with my editor’s daughter. She told me about it in her last letter. Says he’s a nice guy and a member of Celestia’s council.”
“Really?” asked Dowser, intrigued. “Boy, times have changed since I was last in Equestria.”
“So, what’s he got to do with what you’ve been up to?” asked Daring.
Almost instinctively, Dowser looked this way and that, to make sure no one was listening. Then, he leaned in close. Daring leaned over as well, to catch what he was going to say.
“I’ve been across the sea,” he whispered. “I found it.”
Daring frowned slightly.
“Found what?” she asked.
Then, gradually, her eyes widened, her mouth falling open. She stared at Dowser, who gazed right back at her. There was no jest in his expression.
“You don’t mean-?”
He nodded.
“You saw-?”
He nodded again.
“Then are they-?”
“I’m not sure,” said Dowser. “I was only able to get so far. I have a few clues, but nothing more. Some of Ahuizotl’s furball minions were already prowling around, trying to find a key to move on, but they were wasting their time. The place is too well-protected to give up its secrets so easily.
“That’s why I came to find you. I’m not the explorer you are, Daring. This is something that only a pony like you could do. If Ahuizotl got his paws on something like this, it would mean disaster, even worse than his bid to control the Tenochtitlan Basin! Imagine him, controlling the likes of…”
He broke off, and laid his hoof on Daring’s.
“So, what do you say? Will you help me?”
He gazed earnestly and imploringly into her eyes. It was the same look he’d always worn when asking her to let him accompany her on another dangerous adventure. Slowly, the dumbstruck look on Daring’s face melted away into one of grim determination, a light dancing in her eyes.
The light of adventure.
“Of course. If adventure has a name, it’s surely Daring Do.”
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Excellent chapter
So, across the sea.... I assume they're talking about the other humans If I remember correctly?
Also, its alive!
HOLY COW! I'm impressed just by the sheer number of chapters and the amount of words! I have GOT to read this!
What can it possibly be?
Amulet of CMC immunity?
Leash of Cerberus training?
Lollipop of Pinkie Pie?
Could it be?
No, it can't be.
Is Ahuizotl going to find and control...
This story will end, right? I like the sound of it, but I'm really not interested in reading a story that goes on forever.
7562397 I do have an end in sight. It just won't happen anytime soon. I've gone too far in to just end it with loose ends that need tying. XD
Blazewing, you have delivered yet another interesting, multi-faced entry into this currently 121-chapter story, and it's fantastic!
From a funny and tender moment between Octavia and Vinyl to a serious meeting between Daring Doo and Dowser, which concerns the happenings of a certain resident now living in Ponyville. . . . Meanwhile, Applebloom is learning lessons in potions by learning from an old lesson in potions, and dear Screwball makes her return to visit her pal, Screw Loose. There was so much going on and you can't help but wonder if it's all going to come together for some grander purpose. As of right now, I don't know what will happen, but that only makes me more excited for what lies ahead.
Anyway, good chapter. Tender moments between friends, potions, Screwball and her eccentric behavior, and, of course, that ominous discussion. A bit mixed, but otherwise good. What awaits us next on Dave's life in Equestria? And how will he freak-out when he learns that Daring Doo is real?
Great work on Zacora's lines. Proper punctuation, No reaching to far for rhymes, and proper syllable spacing. So many disappointing Zacora writes on this site. It's refreshing.
Lookin' good, can't wait to read more.
It's going to be interesting to see how he reacts to Octavia moving in. Possibly with mixed feelings, since she's still going to be away for most engagements,,, and if "outside of Ponyville" is where I think it is, Dave might be getting a dose of the Wubmeister from closer range.
With the help of fellow commenters, now I'm wondering if this new potion will come into play at some point... but I shall be content to wait and see.
Daring Do in an HiE is interesting because it's sort of analogous to My Little Pony. A series thought to be fictional (though, in this case, the H doesn't remember it being so at the moment) is suddenly revealed to be more-or-less a record of actual events.
I love your story, but two things about this chapter really bothered me.
1) You wrote that Vinyl had a television. Nowhere has it been established that Equestria has radio (much less TV) technology.
2) Dowser used the word 'man' in this sentence.
I don't think the equestrian culture could ever have that word. Only humans would develop that word as a show of exasperation.
7565723 Actually, in the Q&A chapter, television and similar technology was said, by Twilight, to exist, but it's uncommon. So, as an uncommon type of pony with DJ tech at her disposal, I thought it fitted for Vinyl. I'm sorry if you don't agree, that's just how I viewed it.
So, it seems Daring, Downer and Ahuizotl have found something related to humans? I can't tell if it's good or ominous, but definitely the latter for the dog-like, wannabe-ruler.
7578490 Well, she's just trying to help Dave show proper respect for somepony of Celestia's court, especially in so high a position as Ironmane. Also, I was semi-inspired by the running gag in Harry Potter of Professor Dumbledore having to correct Harry every time he calls Snape 'Snape' rather than 'Professor Snape'.
7571075
At least it wasn't that one time where he found the princesses old playtower
Cryptic pony is...downright mysterious actually.