Chapter 15
Piping Hot Pie, known as Piper by her new friends, paced along the narrow floor of the bunkroom on nurse duty. Piper, a filly from Vanhoover, wanted to be a wizard more than anything else in the whole wide world. At least, up to this point in her life, that was what she wanted. Earlier this day though, she had watched a pony fly without wings. She had watched him charge at the bear, swords drawn, and he had launched himself from his spring loaded stilts. He had flown. His cloak had billowed out behind him in the most magnificent manner and he had soared through the air.
Piper had witnessed a hero, and now, she too, wanted to be a hero.
Flicker didn’t have a tragic backstory, both of his parents were still alive, he had a sister, he wasn’t the suave, sophisticated son of some millionaire, he was nothing like the heroes in the comic books she obsessed over, no, Flicker was real. He put on the mask and his suit and he gained honest-to-alicorn superpowers. Piper was very, very taken with this idea that common, salt-of-the-earth ponies could be real, living, breathing, actual superheroes.
It was a romantic notion, one that most ponies might make fun of, or put down, or maybe even ridicule, but she had watched a pony wearing a cape and a mask go flying at a rabid bear. Even more, he had won—sorta. Victory had a price, but heroes always came out on top, right? They just got really big booboos. Flicker had some very big booboos. At least half of him was a sickening purple-green at the moment.
Piper, for the first time in her life, began to believe that she lived in a world where anything was possible, and she began to dream. She would have to train, she would have to fight, she would have to suffer, sweat, and struggle, but she too, would be a hero. A wizard hero. With a sword, a loaded tool-belt, and her wits. Her wits would be important. She wasn’t so sure she could fight a bear in the same way that Flicker had fought a bear. Dynamite and brute force could only take you so far.
“How is he?” Hennessy’s voice was soft in the dim dark of the bunkroom.
“Still asleep. He hasn’t even moved since the doctor injected him with morphine.” Piper turned and focused upon Hennessy, who seemed a bit more subdued than usual. “Are you okay, Hennessy?”
“No,” Hennessy admitted.
“What’s wrong? Heat rash? Did you get galded somewhere? I know I did, but I’m not saying where…” Piper flicked her tail to allow a cooling breeze to caress her where she had been galded. Hennessy seemed hesitant to say anything.
“It’s nothing.”
“It has to be something,” Piper said as she took a step closer to Hennessy.
“I feel like this is my fault. ‘Cause of how I talk.” Hennessy’s words came out sounding like, “Cuz uv hoow Ah tawk.” The colt crawled up into an empty bunk and laid down. “Had everypony understood what I was saying, this might have gone down different.”
“Do you need some help with your diction and your enunciation?”
“My dick end is just fine, thank you very much, and it most certainly didn’t rub against my suit!” Hennessy squirmed in the bed, pulled himself into a pony-loaf position, and then gave Piper a defensive glare. “And I don’t know what else you said, but if it is what I think it is, I didn’t do that in my suit either, no matter how much my dick end was rubbing.”
Piper’s mouth fell open into a little round ‘o’ of astonishment. She took a moment to recover, then said, “Right. You and I are going to spend more time in the dictionary, Mister Walker, you are not going to feel ashamed about it, and you are not going to give me any lip, or I shall yank your ear.”
Eager to change the subject, Hennessy squirmed around in his bunk until he was comfortable, and then he poured his heart out to Piper. “I feel good about today. Maybe not about the bear part, but these ponies here, I helped them. I was an asset to Doctor Sterling. I was an earth pony, just like them, and when I had my mask off, it seemed like it was real easy for them to come up to me and talk. Doctor Sterling said it was easier for him to get information he needed, symptoms and such. The doctor said I’ll make a good public face someday. I don’t reckon I quite know what that means, but I like the sound of it.”
“Well, we certainly wouldn’t want Flicker to be a public face, not with his ‘Oh, let’s gas this,’ or, ‘Hey, let’s set this on fire,’ or, ‘Is that heavy farm equipment?’ Don’t get me wrong, he’s very good at his job, I saw that today, but he’s not the talk to the public type.” Piper turned to look at Flicker, whose barrel rose and fell with his slow but steady breathing. “What’s the doctor doing right now, Hennessy?”
“He’s helping those nice druids. They’re looking at something under a microscope. They been drawing blood from the ponies in the village.”
“Hennessy, have you thought about what you want from all of this?” Piper asked as she thought about being a hero.
“What you mean?”
“The education you’ll be getting, the chances you’ll have to become a pony of greater learning. You’ll have access to everything.” Piper’s brows crinkled just a little bit. “You’re not stupid, Hennessy. You’re uneducated, but you’re not stupid. You have a chance to become anything that you want to be.”
“I ain’t got no idea what I want to be, right now, I’m right happy where I am. I got myself to Canterlot, the great shining city, I have a roof over my head, I got a steady paycheck, I get hot meals, and I sleep in the nicest bed I’ve ever slept in. I’m the luckiest hick that’s ever crawled out of the backwoods.”
It was at that moment that Piper realised the great fundamental difference between her and Hennessy. She said nothing, but resolved to help broaden his horizons somehow, without making him feel stupid or diminished. Something, perhaps her own Pie sense, told her that there was something wrong with Hennessy, some great hurt, and she wanted to help him.
She would lead Hennessy along, with carrots if necessary, and help him be the very best pony that he could be. Exhausted, she couldn’t stand on her hooves any longer, so she crawled into an empty bunk and flopped out. Yawning, Piper realised that she could use a little rest. She grabbed a pillow, fluffed it, and placed her head upon it.
It had been a very long day.
Stepping into the bunkroom, Doctor Sterling stopped and listened to the sound of his three apprentices breathing. Piper was out cold and so was Hennessy. He moved down the narrow aisle between the bunks to Flicker’s bedside to check on the colt. The doctor stood there, silent, examining Flicker, and he noticed the colt’s eyelids fluttering a bit. After some effort, they opened.
“Flicker, can you hear me?”
With slow, almost drunken movement, the colt reached up and rubbed his ears, but he did not respond. His eyes were glassy, unfocused, his movements were sluggish and uncoordinated. He lay there, on his back, looking up at the doctor with a confused, befuddled expression upon his somewhat swollen face.
“Thankfully, your eardrums weren’t ruptured, but the blood vessels at the root of your ears were blown out and the thin skin tore open during the blast. A lot of the blood vessels just beneath the skin were ruptured. You’ve suffered quite a bit of bruising. Try not to move. You can’t hear a word I’m saying, can you?”
Flicker shook his head.
Sighing, the doctor kept the rest of his diagnosis to himself.
With a poof of glittery magic, the doctor conjured up a drinking glass, he filled it with water pulled from the air around him, and he made not one, but two ice cubes for good measure. Lifting Flicker’s head, he held the glass up to the colt’s lips, and let him drink. The wise doctor kept the glass at just the right angle to keep the colt from choking or sputtering.
Four glasses of water later, Flicker didn’t seem to be thirsty anymore. Worried, the doctor noticed that the colt kept trying get up and out of bed. There were other needs that had to be taken care of, he supposed. Using his magic, he slid Flicker out of his bunk, flipped him over, and set him down upon his hooves. The colt wobbled a bit, but remained upright.
The doctor felt a perverse sense of pride. He had helped to shape this colt. Flicker had come to the guild as a formless lump of clay and now, well, it was as Wicked said, Flicker would be the guild’s best weapon against rats and the spread of disease. Oh, he was still angry that Flicker had disobeyed him, and when the colt could hear again, the doctor intended to let the colt have it.
But that would come later. For now, the colt probably needed to relieve himself, and maybe eat. Punishment could be dealt with later, and Doctor Sterling knew that he had his own punishment coming. Wicked was going to rip him a new one no matter what sort of excuses might be offered.
Bells rang in his ears and Flicker couldn’t hear much of anything. Above him, stars twinkled and the night sky was like a shroud of purple-black velvet festooned with sequins. The night air was cool and felt good against his skin, which burned with heat from within. His back half was on fire, but the shot of morphine was helping. The worst pain was in his balls, which had swollen up to what felt like two or three times their normal size. His dock was so swollen that he couldn’t move his tail.
Worst of all, he had no cutie marks. Flicker found this quite distressing. He was bald back there, completely bald, and his skin had turned a dreadful shade of greenish purple from the bruising. The grey goop slathered over his wounds burned a bit, it stung, it did, but he didn’t dare complain about it.
Looking out over the rail, he saw smoke curling up from chimneys. The ponies here were a little safer, a little more comfortable, but more had to be done to help them. The rats would return and soon. Not too far away from where the Don’t Panic had put down anchor, the other two visitors to the village had set up camp.
They had a peculiar raised platform for their tent and Flicker understood the gist of it. The long metal poles that held up the platform had disks near the middle to keep rats and other vermin from climbing up. A simple tent sat atop the platform and he could see the glow of a lantern from within the tent. He could also see the outlines of the two ponies. One seemed to be hunched over a low table, maybe reading, and the other was laying down, perhaps also reading.
One pony was out enjoying the night, at least one pony that Flicker could see. A young mare frolicked beneath the stars, dancing with herself, pronking around the field near where the two ships had been anchored.
Flicker felt a touch, a light soft touch, and he turned to see the doctor. There was a plate of food and a bottle of ice cold Luna~Cola. The plate was set down on the wide deck rail and Flicker eyed his options. Potato salad, another salad with pickled beets, cherries, chickpeas, and mint. It was Canterlot food, but he liked it, and there was a cold cheese sandwich loaded down with what appeared to be spring greens. He began salivating at the sight of food.
The doctor’s lips were moving, but Flicker couldn’t hear anything. He shook his head to let the doctor know, and he saw a look of keen worry in the doctor’s silver-grey eyes. With a nod of thanks, he took a sip of the soda, put it down upon the rail, and then tore into his food starting with the sandwich. Canterlot ponies ate different foods than Ponyville ponies, but that was fine by him.
It wasn’t bad food, just different.
In the end, Flicker felt this had been a good day. He had purged a village, gone for a long walk, seen the countryside, blown up a rat den, gassed the survivors, and then he had saved his co-workers and himself by blowing up a bear with dynamite. This qualified as a good day, an interesting day, and Flicker was grateful that he was still drawing breath.
Beside him, the doctor stood, looking up at the stars, and Flicker hoped that the doctor wouldn’t be too angry with him. He idolised the doctor, adored him, worshipped him, and wanted so very much to be like him. Doctor Sterling was noble, self sacrificing, and Flicker had no doubt that the doctor would have sacrificed himself to the bear, had it come down to that.
More than anything, Flicker hoped that he had earned the doctor’s praise. He couldn’t wait to hear it. He felt as though he had done an act of extraordinary valour, surely that would get him the doctor’s attention and perhaps a commendation. Flicker was no longer a foal, at least, he believed this to be the case, and he desperately wanted the acceptance and approval of the adults in his life.
He would do anything to get it.
Stats
Page generated in 0.023 seconds
Total duration
990 users online
1,485,542 hits today, 2,167,270 yesterday
FIMFiction
My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic Fanfiction
Designed and coded by knighty & Xaquseg - © 2011-2024
Follow & Support Us
Support us
SubStar
Chat!
Discord
Follow us
Twitter
MLP: Friendship is Magic® - © 2024 Hasbro Inc.®
Fimfiction is in no way affiliated with or endorsed by Hasbro Inc.®
Today was a very, very, very eventful day for Flicker. I'm excited to see what happens next.
I consider a good day at work getting $10+ in tips. I got $22 yesterday which you may think made it an awesome day, but nope, that just evened things out as I didn't work on friday. And all I made today was $5 in tips. And the work is boring. I would give anything for something as exciting as a wild bear showing up or whatever reason.
7753940
Well hopefully with his backside being as badly wrecked as it is, he will be able to avoid a flogging for a while, so that might be considered a plus. This day that was eventful also likely saved his backside. I say it is was a pretty good day for him.
Hennesy is starting to remind me a bit of Tarnish, damaged egos.
What does Luna Cola taste like?
7754008
Fresh squeezed Luna.
7754020
Black currant and elderflower with a touch of hibiscus, got it.
7754020
Black currant and elderflower with a touch of hibiscus, got it.
Nana NANA Nana RATMAN!
I need more sleep, seriously!
Ratman posing with Flutters?
farm8.static.flickr.com/7430/10641398973_d33134b490.jpg
7754008 Moon Cheese? YUCK!
From urban dictionary, their 3rd definition, still applies to her... 'plumbing'.
7754059
Cheese? It's a slightly tart berry and two flowers. I'm confused.
You spoil us with this update rate.
As far as defining a good day, at least one notable has opined that a day which others did not fire AK-47s at oneself is a good day, so I believe that this qualifies on that account.
7754071 Luna >moon> made of cheese!
7754097
Wait, what? Oh, oh gods.
7754100
7754097
Cheese flavoured soda.
7754102 I did say yuck, never know what a batpony or their sovereign finds tasty. Ever watch a fruitbat feeding at the zoo, gross.
7754100
Flicker is a tough little nugget, damned if I'd be up again that quick after those injuries. Hope he gets a purple heart medal for that...or whatever the guild gives for heroic acts. A purple rat badge?
futofab.com/images/stories/grill_badges_stuff/rat-n-wrenches_badges/rat-n-wrenches_bluebird_blue_150.jpg
Hmm, I wonder if Flicker's mark will grow back differently after his wounds heal. . .
7754102
Luna is best princess, but I'm lactose intolerant.
Kudzu, why must you torment me so~!
That sounds well almost speciesist. Or maybe it's something else. I really don't have the vocabulary to describe it plus I kinda just got up like 40 min ago.
So, in one han...hoof we have Flicker waiting, expecting, almost demanding, prise from the dear Doc.
In the other hoof we have Doc thinking how many ways he can tore Flicker a new one by disobeying him and almost got killed.
Ooooooh, that will be a turning point in life, if I ever saw one before ! Grab the sodas and popcorns, gentlecolts and fillies !
7754482
Flicker is about to learn the difference between heroics and idiocies, and the incredibly thin line that exists between the two, which often has breaks in it where one slops over into the other.
7754058
The existence of that photo makes me strangely happy.
hmm, I got to eradicate some rats with farming equipment, took a lovely stroll through the countryside surrounding the village, and I even got to blow some things up. All in all, today was a good day. Flicker's thoughts about the day
I'm really curious to see how Flicker's scolding is gonna go. He's so desperate for acceptance yet he's gonna get his ass chewed by the one he's wanting to please. I don't think I'd trust anyone else to write that conversation other than Kudz.
7754465
Piper is a Pie.
She is full of wholesome goodness and a sincere desire to help others.
She doesn't want Hennessy embarrassing himself, and further hurting his own ego.
Just caught up the last 4 chapters (I take two days off! Two Days!)
Interesting to see the disconnect between Flicker and the Doctor's expectations, also curious that the Doc's expecting to get punished, although I can kind of see the logic, I would still largely blame Flicker's injuries on Flicker.
Also interesting to see more of what the druids are up to. I'm not sure whether to believe the the two doctors about Tarnish's tendency or capability to turn ponies into trees. The body spackle is an invention I can definitely see Tarnish wanting and using!
Miss Pie's theory about the 'harmony problem' is a way of thinking about it I hadn't considered, but makes a lot of sense. Slightly unnerving to hear Hennessey's take on the problems implementing a solution to it. There's a lot of work to do.
7754909
In real life, guild members were responsible for an apprentice. An apprentice was an investment of time and learning, which had a calculable financial value. Each hour of schooling, trailing, and preparation could all be measured in actual cost.
Allowing an apprentice to be hurt on the job, or to otherwise be unable to do their own job, guild members were held responsible and punished for the financial losses suffered by the guild. If Flicker suffered an injury that impacted his ability to work, Doctor Sterling could be held accountable for the financial damages suffered. He is responsible for Flicker's life and Flicker's future.
7754927 That makes an awful lot of sense, actually. I still blame Flicker for this particular incident, but I can see why the rule is what it is. I clearly have to bump researching guilds up my priority list.
7754963
Fun fact, you could beat a woman near to death in medieval times, as she was chattel, property, but harm a skilled tradesman, and you could be sued for damages, doubly so if the guild was backed by the Pope and the church.
Learned skills were highly valued and protected. Guilds gave value to human life. Entire dynasties rose and fell upon the strength that certain guilds had and the influence they generated.
Poor colt, has no idea what he's in for.
7754020
images.encyclopediadramatica.se/thumb/4/42/Princess_Molestia_-_Seal_Of_Approval.png/300px-Princess_Molestia_-_Seal_Of_Approval.png
he is so doomed and does na even knaa it