Ripped Pants, Apple Pie, and a Broken Spoon
Chapter 7: Ripped Pants, Apple Pie, and a Broken Spoon
“Well, would you look at that! Hey, Wishes, come into the living room! Rarity’s come for a visit!” Magnum called out, entirely unaware of the proverbial axe poised over his head. Poised with all the dignity an outraged mare of class could conjure, Rarity strode over to the couch where her father was loafing, as per usual, and attempted to garner the simple stallion’s attention with a warning glare. “Are you feeling alright? Dear, take a look. I think she must be feeling ill,” Magnum quipped, oblivious to the storm brewing under the surface. Rarity’s mother didn’t help matters in the slightest by trotting over and cupping the mare’s cheek in a hoof.
“Oh dear, how long have you been ill? Have you been to the doctor? Oh, hello there, Spike! Do come in!” Garden Wishes called out. Spike, however, couldn’t believe the self-control Rarity was putting out, but as he saw the eye twitch begin, he shut the door and exerted his willpower to keep himself from instantly hiding under the table.
“Spike, dear, you may wish to cover your ears...” At Rarity’s “suggestion,” he did exactly that, and for good measure, closed his eyes. What he heard was clear as day, as he was confident it was for the rest of Ponyville. “There are no words fit for my vocabulary with which to adequately describe the deep level of excrement you both have dug yourselves into, but Celestia help me, I will find a way!”
“See? I told you she wasn’t feeling well,” Magnum chuckled, patting a spot on the couch next to him. “C’mon, Rarity, come off your high horse and sit with your pa.”
“It seems I did not succeed in capturing your attention,” Rarity muttered, her volume level restrained to a deathly hush and making Spike fear incontinence would soon be a very real problem.
“Capturing my...”
“If I hear one more word out of either of you before I’ve said my piece, I will personally guarantee your swift eviction, humiliation, and ruination in every conceivable manner! And take off that dreadful straw hat! It makes you look like a hobo and it pains my eyes!” she howled, not waiting for a response and yanking it from her father’s head via magic, only to unleash a single fraction of her frustration as she promptly stomped it into the ground and tore it to pieces. Magnum opened his mouth to protest when he found himself face to face with the very incarnation of feminine wrath.
“What part of ‘one more word’ did I not make abundantly clear, father? Do you wish to join your hat, hmmm?” His jaw snapped shut, and Rarity slowly drew her head back, snorting. “Well, it’s certainly pleasant to see that some level of intelligence still remains; let us hope it is enough to save you. Now then, clear out your ears, because I do not wish to repeat myself. If I catch wind, rumor, message, signs in the stars, or any other method of communication contrived by pony or beast alike pertaining to you two placing any kind of restriction over who Sweetie Belle is or is not allowed to give her heart to, I assure you, there will... be... consequences!”
“Uh...”
“You are quite lucky, as I am a giving mare and shall not count such an uncouth, guttural noise as a word. Be thankful, and do not try my patience further, mother. I am far from through,” Rarity cautioned, her smooth, dulcet tones hiding the icy claws of terror in a satin blanket. Her eyes carried much the same chill, the calm, limpid pools of blue sending a shiver down one dragon’s spines as he found himself transfixed by a meaningful stare. “Spike, what are you doing under the table? That is no place for a gentlecolt,” she cooed, offering a hoof and almost sounding lucid. Swallowing hard and wishing he could have had the chance to empty his bladder beforehoof, Spike adhered to the beckoning hoof of the wroth goddess and gave a shudder as the hoof draped around his chest, squeezing just tightly enough to indicate that he likely shouldn’t move in the foreseeable future.
“Now then,” Rarity continued, her voice starting a normal level but growing in volume with each passing word. “While I am deeply opposed to the idea of needlessly getting my hooves dirty, I shall attempt to reach in further and dredge you both from the squalor in which you both seem to be residing, judging by the barbaric filth you both seem to be generously heaping on my dear sister’s head! If you would dare... try to control her life’s path as you did mine, so help me Celestia, I will personally see you both sent to the moon! One thousand years and a blast of magic did wonders for Luna’s attitude, and I shouldn’t wonder it could do the same to two ponies who can’t take a few moments to realize their neanderpony methods have no place, portion, or value in a society where a mare with talent can be free to find her own path!”
“We just wanted...” Garden Wishes started before being yanked into the air and levitated face to face with a livid mare who had made herself abundantly clear that she was not to be interrupted under any circumstance.
“You wanted! Exactly my point, you’re only thinking about yourselves! And you know what else, mother? I’ve had just about enough of those hideous relics of a bygone era you refer to as pants!” With a few deft movements, Rarity induced invertigo, flipped her mother upside down, yanked the offending garments off, and split them down the center, then down the legs, then down, well, everywhere else until Spike had some fabric confetti to play with. He stared at the white strips for a moment before risking punishment himself, coughing nervously and almost feeling sorry for the two.
“You never, ever interrupt a lady’s rant. Ever.”
“Quite right, Spikey-wikey,” Rarity quipped, patting him on the head. “See? I’m really not so hard to please.” Magnum and Garden Wishes both stared at their accessories, quite beyond repair, and then back at their daughter, speechless. Rarity paid this no head, her regal poise undeniable and her laudable intentions unalterable. “Now then... I think it’s abundantly clear that I am a reasonable mare... Mother, stop that infernal groaning, it is most unbecoming of a grown mare!” Rarity barked, culling her pantless mother into silence. “It’s really quite simple. You are to let Sweetie Belle pursue her own career and her own special somepony on her own terms. That’s really not so much to ask, is it?” Silence followed, and Rarity lamented her parents’ lacking intelligence with a sigh. “Generally, when a pony asks a question, it is rude not to answer. I don’t approve of rude. It makes me quite... flustered, shall we say? No, no, don’t worry,” she soothed, raising a hoof as they both opened their mouth to speak, “I shall defer this one to my assistant here. Spike, am I asking too much?”
“No, Miss Rarity... ma’am!” Spike replied instantaneously, standing to attention and hoping to Celestia he had answered properly.
“Oh, I hope my stallion is half as bright as you, Spike!” Rarity swooned, clapping her hooves and tittering before turning back to her parents, by now frightened witless and convinced their daughter had developed some kind of sociopathic disorder. “Now then, I recognize that Sweetie Belle is young, not quite ready to tackle all the facets of marehood, and thus you two should have some manner of influence. Thus, I am willing to compromise. Repeat after me: Sweetie Belle is free to be interested in whoever she chooses so long as she continues to pursue the continuance of her talents and adhere to standards befitting a proper mare.”
“But, what if...” Magnum started, clapping his hooves over his mouth as his daughter’s eyes narrowed, piercing into his soul before brightening, though it was on no account of him.
“What’s this I hear? Spike, correct me if I’m wrong, but that sounded nothing like what I said,” Rarity interjected, turning to Spike with a look of confusion stamped on her muzzle.
“No, you’re right, Rarity. That wasn’t even close.”
“I thought so. Let’s try this again. All together, now: Sweetie Bell is free...”
“S-Sweetie B-Belle...”
“Mother, father, I know for a fact that neither of you are known to have a stutter, so please, speak clearly. Again, from the beginning. ‘Sweetie Belle is free...’”
“Sweetie Belle is free!”
“Please, do keep your volume down! You could hurt somepony’s hearing, shouting like that,” Rarity chided them gently, trotting closer. “Still, that was very much better than your last attempt, so let’s try the whole thing. ‘Sweetie Belle is free to be interested in whoever she chooses so long as she continues to pursue the continuance of her talents and adhere to standards befitting a proper mare.’”
“Sweetie Belle is free to be interested in whoever she chooses so long as she continues to pursue the continuance of her talents and adhere to standards befitting a proper mare!”
“What did I just say about shouting? No wonder Sweetie Belle didn’t have any luck getting through to you two...” Rarity said, heaving a sigh. “Still, you have come to see reason, and for this, I am thankful. Mother, father, I do love you both ever so much,” Rarity murmured sweetly, leaning in and wrapping a hoof around each, pulling the stunned couple into a light embrace. “Spike, I am feeling much better. Thank you for your support. Run along, now.”
“Aren’t you coming?” Spike replied, bracing himself as Rarity wandered back over.
“Coming? Why, it’s almost tea time! And I have much, much more I’d like to speak with my dear mother and father about,” Rarity said with a chuckle, giving the hesitating dragon a reassuring wink.
Translation: I’m sparing your ears, mind, and possibly soul by sending you away before gaining my second wind and starting a brand new bonafide rage. “You got it. Rarity? Thank you.” Spike couldn’t help but smile a little as the mare swept him from the ground and into an affectionate embrace, but they both knew his heart was elsewhere, and Spike stepped out into the early autumn afternoon refreshed, spirited, and without the faintest hint of blush. He glanced back at the door, then to the skies, taking a deep draft of air and letting it out in a contented sigh. “Well, that went about as well as I could have hoped. I wonder if...”
“...and furthermore! If I so much as...” The murmur of the crowds going about their business hit a lull as nearly every head turned towards a house much like any other, and Spike chuckled nervously as one of his age old hypotheses was finally answered beyond a shadow of a doubt.
“Huh, look at that. You can explode twice!”
“Please excuse me, Crusaders, I’m off to the library. It seems I can’t find the right word to describe how totally horrible today was. Longest... day... ever!” Scootaloo exclaimed as soon as they were free from the seemingly dungeon-like confines of the schoolhouse. Humiliating was barely scratching the surface when describing the concentrated embarrassment at her overly enthusiastic recounting of the morning and all it contained before the class, garnering laughter both polite and otherwise while continuing her newest trend of sporting blush without the aid make up. Scootaloo thought for sure that her cheeks would never turn back to normal, though she did feel a little bit better in one regard; her friends chose to remain quiet after she stole the spotlight, and as she had found out during recess, they had good cause for keeping mum.
“Can ah come with you?” Applebloom replied, heaving a sigh. “I need t’ find a good word t’ describe ‘ow terrible ah feel ‘bout today. Ah mean, ah whacked mah newest friend with mah mallet, fer cryin’ out loud! Ah ain’t ever knocked a pony out until today... An’ what about Miss Cheerilee?” she continued, sitting down at one of the tables in the now deserted schoolyard, everypony else having fled to go find themselves something more fun than Equestrian history. “Ah dunno ‘bout y’all, but ah had the hardest time payin’ attention today...”
“No, I’m pretty sure it wasn’t just you, Applebloom,” Sweetie Belle assured her, heaving a wistful sigh. “I’m not even going to try and deny what I was thinking about... What about you two?”
“Awesome adventures with the captain, what else?” Scootaloo replied easily.
“Holdin’ hooves does that to a filly,” Applebloom chuckled, grinning at the expected half-lidded glare. “Ah’ll admit ah was thinkin’ ‘bout Rumble a lot, but ‘ow could ah not? You ain’t seen a bruise till ya see ‘is head...”
“Interesting. I was thinking about my parents, but since we’re on the topic of colts...”
“But you said...” Scootaloo started before Sweetie Belle’s snickers brought the exact words back to Scootaloo’s mind. “Applebloom, I think we’re gonna have to watch out for this one. She’s so drenched in lovey dovey mushy stuff that it’s leaking out. Be careful, you might end up kissing somepony if you get too close!” Applebloom shifted a little further away on the bench, meeting Sweetie Belle’s eye roll with mock horror before all three devolved into giggles. “She’s gonna infect you with love fever!”
“What’re you talking about, Scootaloo? Applebloom is the only pony who has to worry, since you’ve clearly already caught it,” Sweetie Belle quipped. “Actually, she probably already has it too, so don’t worry. You can’t infect the infected... right?”
“Well, it’s true you can’t turn a zombie into a... re-zombie?” Scootaloo offered, unsure of herself. “Geez, that’s a deep question, Sweetie Belle. I’m gonna have to check with the captain, but first, I need to head home,” she remarked, standing upright. “I think a good dose of boring lady stuff will work wonders to clear my mind.”
“Ah think she just said she’s gonna go try on her dresses fer Pipsqueak. Did ah hear that right?”
“No! That’s most definitely, never in a million years what I meant, Applebloom!” Scootaloo cried, railing against the scarily accurate assessment of her plans, leading her to wonder just how much longer her facade would hold water.
“Yeah, I think you hit the nail on the head, Applebloom,” Sweetie Belle said cheerfully, leaning across the table and high hoofing. Clearly, Scootaloo realized, the answer was not much longer, but she wasn’t about to go down without a fight. Or, in this case, be discovered in a dress, of all things.
“Wasn’t the only thing she hit in the head...” Scootaloo muttered, grinning slightly as Applebloom’s amiable countenance took a slight hit.
“Come on, Scootaloo, that ain’t fair.”
“It’s perfectly fair,” Scootaloo asserted, ending the ensuing argument before it began by adopting a regal countenance and trotting off with her head held high.
“It kind of is,” Sweetie Belle added in, leaving Applebloom feeling somewhat betrayed.
“Ah know that, but that don’t mean ah want t’ hear it. It’s not like ah’m proud of it...”
“Applebloom, Rumble saved you from falling from the barn after you whacked him. Either he’s ridiculously nice, or there’s something a little stronger than dedication there.”
“Careful, Sweetie Belle. We don’t make good matchmakers,” Applebloom shot back half-heartedly, her smile revealing her gratitude for the reassurance. “Ah’m gonna head back t’ the fort and try to whip up somethin’ t’ apologize to Rumble properly. He’s been a right gentlecolt, an’ it just don’t sit right leavin’ ‘im with only mah words to hold on to.”
“Going to offer him your hooves instead, huh?”
“...maybe,” Applebloom said slyly, adopting a ponderous expression. “Well, what about you? Gonna find another back alley to grab some alone time with yer special somepony?”
“...maybe.”
“Ain’t even tryin’ t’ hide it, are ya?” Applebloom asked rhetorically, standing upright. “Don’t be too loud, or somepony will hear the kissin’.” Sweetie Belle allowed herself a moment of contemplation on the wondrous occasion that was sure to be far off, though it did make her an easy target as Ruby walked over, the last pony to leave the schoolhouse. She said nothing at first, having something fairly serious on her mind, but if Sweetie Belle’s rosen cheeks were any indicator, Ruby had to guess she was thinking of Spike.
“Still the sweetest non-pony around, huh?” Sweetie Belle straightened up and blinked a few times, caught completely off guard. Admittance of having feelings hadn’t changed the fact that thinking of anything beyond walking side by side made Sweetie Belle slightly bashful, and while her banter with Applebloom had been light and playful, allowing her to respond easily, serious contemplation of a blissful first kiss left her slightly embarrassed and uncharacteristically soft spoken.
“Yeah... still sweet, still clueless,” she murmured, smiling shyly and thankful that Ruby wasn’t in one of her more teasing moods, responding cheerfully with a grin as she took a seat across from her friend.
“I’m sure he’d be flattered to hear it,” Ruby replied, laughing softly at her friend’s romance addled state. “Listen, I know you and the other two were distracted today, but did you notice how sad Silver Spoon looked?” Sweetie Belle dug deep, trying to sift through her myriad daydreams and fanciful romantic excursions, mostly involving lunch by a lake or other stereotypical dating scenarios, and while she didn’t remember anything about her mood specifically, there was one detail that stood out to her, something even she couldn’t ignore.
“Now that you mention it, she didn’t laugh at all when Diamond Tiara was mocking Scootaloo, and they didn’t hang out together at recess, either,” Sweetie Belle recalled, tilting her head to the side. “Why do you ask?”
“That’s just it... I don’t know, really. Normally, those two are inseparable, but today, Silver Spoon just... I don’t know,” she muttered, shaking her head. “I’d say I’m just reading too much into it, and maybe she was just tired or something, but I can’t shake this feeling that something is off. Do you think... maybe you could help me look around town for her?”
“Sure!” Ruby stared dumbly for a few moments before shaking her head and trying again, sure she had misheard.
“Really? Just like that? You do realize that I’m asking you for help with Silver Spoon, right?” the filly cautioned, knowing that the Sweetie Belle and the others, and basically everypony in class had been on the receiving end of generous helpings of humiliation from the Silver Spoon and Diamond Tiara on multiple occasions.
“The pony who, when paired with her other half, is about as pleasant as curdled milk? Yeah, I know,” Sweetie Belle replied with a grin. “If it’s important to you, then it’s important to me, and honestly, I could probably use a distraction to get my head out of the clouds for a while. Any idea where to start looking?”
“No idea. Feel like going for a stroll?” Having no other pressing concerns for the afternoon and knowing nothing of Spike’s availability, Sweetie Belle willingly agreed on spending a little time wandering around, and they meandered through town, making idle chatter and gossiping about this, that, and Scootaloo’s wings. After nearly half an hour of searching, they stumbled upon Diamond Tiara sitting by herself in Sugarcube corner, her foul temperament on full display. She didn’t even bother looking up from her milkshake as the two approached, and both Ruby and Sweetie Belle were more than slightly hesitant to disturb the raincloud lest it yield thunder.
“...what do you want?” Diamond snapped, staring disdainfully at the two fillies. “You had better have a good reason for bothering me and wasting my time.”
“And a very nice day to you too, Diamond Tiara,” Ruby said with a sigh. You know, I really enjoy helping other ponies, but you make me really want to... no, Ruby, come on. Don’t think like that, she’s clearly upset. Even jerks n... “not so nice ponies” need care too. “Is something bothering you? Maybe I can...”
“You can what, huh? What could you possibly have to offer me?” the filly who fancied herself a queen snapped back, adopting a condescending sneer.
A hoof to the face, a buck to the gut... perhaps a bath with that milkshake? Sweetie Belle was truly impressed with Ruby as she kept her calm and temporarily caused even Diamond Tiara pause with her gentle words. “Well, friendship, for starters. Maybe we could...”
“Friendship?” Diamond Tiara interjected, cutting off a well-meaning invitation with shrill, pointed laughter. “What makes you think I want your friendship? Next time I need my windows washed or some other menial task more suited for somepony of your class, I’ll let you know. Until then, go back to cleaning up your mother’s vomit.” Ruby had been patient, had tried to be understanding of the filly’s brutal onslaught, one she knew wasn’t derived from any particular loathing of her personally, but her last comment had crossed a line.
“What gives you the right to...” Sweetie Belle started, angrily taking a step forward before yielding to her friend’s restraining hoof. Sweetie’s eyes grew wide as Ruby experienced a complete personality shift, her scathing words causing a temporary lull in the clamor of the building as everypony turned and stared directly at Diamond Tiara.
"There's more worth in my mother's vomit than any word I've ever heard come out of your mouth, and love, while it's something you clearly undervalue, has more value than your father's wealth increased a hundredfold, you prissy, ungrateful snob." Her voice was cold, calm, and devastating, and Diamond Tiara had no comeback. “Clearly, it was stupid for me to try and be nice. Just tell us where we can find Silver Spoon, and we’ll gladly leave you alone.” There were a few seconds of painful silence while Diamond scrambled to save her image, before cutting her losses and caving to their more than reasonable request.
“...try the park.”
“Thank you kindly,” Ruby muttered, stalking out the door with Sweetie Belle in tow. A glance was all it took for Ruby to see she had shaken her friend, and with a sigh she attempted to salvage her image, though it was entirely unnecessary. “Sorry, Sweetie Belle. I kind of lost it back there.”
“Are you kidding? That was great!” Sweetie Belle chortled, rearing in excitement and flashing Ruby a supportive smile. “Couldn’t have said it better myself, and after all, she... kinda deserved it. I’m just a little shocked you delivered, is all.”
“I wasn’t joking when I said family is first. I’m used to hearing things being whispered around town, but from her? After trying to be nice?” Sweetie Belle offered a sheepish smile, slowly spreading it to Ruby who caved with an exasperated sigh. “Ok, ok, I’ll calm down.”
“Please do. You’re a lot more fun to be around when you don’t look like, well... this,” she said, distorting her face into as nasty a sneer as she could manage, sending Ruby into a fit of giggles. They veered to the right as the path diverged towards the park, and Sweetie Bell gave Ruby a wink as they continued on. “Let’s hope Silver Spoon is a little more receptive to your kindness - for everypony’s sake.”
Away from the prying eyes and ears of a few choice friends and safely sandwiched amongst a throng of ponies going about their afternoon business, Scootaloo found some measure of solace amongst the hustle and bustle of the Ponyville market. It was true she had spent a good majority of her time in class spacing, dispatching fictional foes and engaging in feats of daring do that the mare herself would deem laudably crazy, but for those other moments, the ones that led to a quiet, demure Scootaloo peering out at the skies, her mind had turned to somewhat more serious matters. Without Applebloom or Sweetie Belle around to point at any rosiness that may or may not arise, she let a small smile tickle the corners of her muzzle as thoughts of the captain came in not with a battle cry, but something else she was determined to understand and, should it be mushy, squelch.
“Heh, right...” she muttered, dropping her gaze to the ground and immediately bumping into somepony. Aside from a slightly reproving look, they said nothing and quickly melted into the crowd, and Scootaloo continued her journey after a stammered apology, keeping her eyes open but quickly receding deep into thought. I know I can be excitable, but I’ve never had this kind of trouble keeping focus. Is it really just that much fun hanging out with Pipsqueak? “What, am I crazy? Of course it is! Why would I even ask that? Huh, I must be losing it...” she chuckled, heaving a sigh as she discovered that the answer was slightly more elusive. I’ve had lots of fun times that I know I’ll never forget. Being taught to fly when Storm came back, getting to help with Rainbow Dash’s wedding... totally botching that play for school. Kinda wish I could forget that one...
The crowds thinned, but the filly didn’t even notice, her steps guided more by muscle memory than her sight. Ok, I don’t even want to think about this as a possibility, ‘cause it’s totally ridiculous that I’d have something as girly as liking somepony in my brain, but just so I can cover all my bases and deny any claims otherwise, let’s look at the facts. Let’s see... I can’t get him out of my head, but that doesn’t mean anything conclusively, nope. Pipsqueak is absolutely nuts, and I can’t seem to spend enough time around him, and the times I’m not I’m thinking about what we’ll do next when we are. But that’s just fun-having and planning stuff, so that can’t count, either. Then there are those times where he starts acting sweet, looking at me like I’m the only pony in the world... My heart starts beating really fast, and every word is like... like magic, or something! And the heat that floods my body, it’s like it’s almost too much, but I... kinda like it. Like being on fire without burning up! So, I guess that means, I’m... I’m...
“...I must be part phoenix! Yes, that’s so cool!” Stoked with her newfound birthright, she immediately broke into a gallop to head home and test the stovetop, but she soon tripped on nothing at all and tumbled in the dust, landing in a heap staring up at the sky after being blindsided with one more memory to tip the scales. A phoenix doesn’t even have hooves! My snout is rounded, with no sign of a beak, and what... what about when he held my hoof this morning? I felt... more than just fire... In fact, as she looked back, she realized that he had caused her myriad of emotions even beyond the one she couldn’t, or wouldn’t, identify. When he toppled my brother, I felt really proud of him... And when he stops and says “thank you,” it means... so much more... Does this mean I’m... I’m...
“Well, isn’t this a breeze o’ good fortune! What’re you lubbin’ around the land for, deckhoof?” A familiar, roguish, infuriatingly mood-brightening face appeared in Scootaloos vision, obscuring her view of the sky and sending her reeling in her current state.
I just spent the last who knows how long in deep thought trying to figure out what’s going on only to realize that I might sort of possibly have an unbearable inkling of semi-romantic feeling for somepony, only to have said pony suddenly show up when I’m unprepared and totally defenseless? Unfair, Lady Luck! C’mon, brain, think! Reply! Respond! Say something, darn it! Her eyes shifted frantically from face to frame, seeking an out. No bandana, no eye patch, no sword, just that stupid smile that’s awesome and soft, deep, earthy brown eyes... No, stoppit! What else, Scootaloo? Ah ha! Perfect! “How do you do?”
“...huh?” Well, that wasn’t what I was expecting at all? No, “hey, who are you callin’ a landlubber” or “ready and waiting for orders, captain?” Maybe she’s not feeling well? “Are ye ill, mate? Ye look a little...”
“Boots! No boots!” Scootaloo exclaimed, staring straight ahead and being blinded by the sun as Pipsqueak heaved a sigh and plopped down beside her.
“Ye can be a cruel lass at times, deckhoof,” he lamented with a lovelorn sigh. “Aye, this sorry excuse for a captain has yet t’ find himself a proper pair o’ boots, and it’s not for lack of searchin’, either. Sea t’ hill, forest an’ vale alike, I searched high an’ low after buryin’ my treasure, but the only thing ye can say I accomplished is weatherin’ my hooves and walkin’ away with an empty coffer.” To punctuate his point, his stomach gave a soft gurgle as he rubbed it with a rueful smile. Scootaloo took some time to recover a little during his oration, and slowly sat up, brushing dust from her wings and forcing eye contact, for to avert her gaze would be to admit defeat. “Don’t ye worry, deckhoof. Aye, I ain’t perfect, not by a long shot, but I’m always trainin’, and someday, I’ll prove me mettle to ye. Hopefully when I have a blasted pair o’ boots!” he concluded, pounding the ground lightly with a hoof and grinning.
“You, uh... you already kinda have, to me...” Bad Scootaloo! Don’t talk if it’s gonna come out mushy! “If you... if you want, I can help you look. You know, after school and stuff...”
“Well now, look at that. My little deckhoof thinks she can plan, eh? I’m a reasonable brigand, so we’ll give yer scheme a shot. Train well, deckhoof! Be prepared fer adventure when the cuckoo cries four!” Knowing he’d be late for school, a recurrent problem that seemed to nab him a yearly lecture from the Lunar Princess, Pipsqueak took off at into the crowds, dodging around ponies and sometimes diving under them, making even a simple trip something more. Scootaloo watched with a mixture of amusement, adoration, and bewilderment, continuing to stare long after he had disappeared.
“...’How do you do?’ Stupid! Ugh, I can’t wait to get home...” Hoisting herself upright, she started at a canter, slowly building speed until she was zipping through town at near scooter speeds, propelling herself with her wings and generally trying to pump enough adrenaline in her system to stave off further introspection. Elation at an afternoon spent doing something mind-numbing like styling her mane for the heck of it or practicing her dancing in the safety of the one place she could get away from it all, she barged in the door, muttered a barely audible greeting to Storm and Rainbow Dash, currently playing with Tank and Hope, didn’t quite catch their response which she could only assume was some kind of jibe, and promptly barged into her room on the first floor, shut the door, and launched herself gleefully into her admittedly lavish bed. Digging into the luxurious fabric and heaving a gratified sigh, she stilled herself and let her mind, body, and heart slow, relax, and be at peace.
Her room was her sanctuary, a place untainted by the world’s expectation and a safe haven where she could, for a time, be anything she wanted to be without reproach, from herself or from others. Whether it was a time spent honing her poise with fluid, graceful motions or seeing how soft she could get her mane after applying an exorbitant amount of product, as long as intruders first knocked, she could let go of everything and explore, little by little, what lay underneath her well-structure tomcolt personality. She spread her hooves wide and cracked an eye open, feeling something that, while soft, was assuredly not her bed. Curiosity soon grew to horror as she sat bolt upright and looked around. Somepony had completely sacked her room, and her secrets were all exposed, laid bare and out in the open.
The fabric held in her hoof was none other than one of her favorite dresses, one she had worn only a few times due to its special nature. It had been custom made by Rarity for a night when she performed alongside Sweetie Belle at the tavern, a rare moment when she had made exception to let her feminine side flare, and a treasured memory she kept locked away in the deepest parts of her heart. If it were just the dress, she might have been fine, but no, somepony had all but emptied her closet, with something far worse than dresses laying on the floor - striped socks. Speechless, she ran to lock herself in the bathroom only to find curlers and ten of her seventeen conditioners laying around, one or two open and appearing to have been recently used. Her voice came back in a hurry, making up for lost time and resounding throughout the house.
“When I find whoever did this, they are so dead, they’re gonna re-dead! I don’t care if it’s impossible, I’ll make a way!” Storm glanced over at Rainbow Dash and bumped hooves, their little mission a total success as a little way of getting back at her for Scootaloo’s callous disregard of Pipsqueak’s inappropriate behavior with Storm and, to a lesser extent, Rainbow Dash. Scootaloo, however, had a slightly different interpretation of the events, her mind frantically looking for a link and stunning her as it found a possible culprit. “Pipsqueak! I hope you’re freaking ready to walk the plank, because you’re sleeping with the fishes the moment I get my hooves on you!”
“Uh, Dash? I think Scootaloo might be a little more upset than we anticipated...” Storm murmured, watching the hallway with slight concern and dwindling amusement. “I just wanted to mess with her a little, not scar her for life.”
“You can always blame it on me. After all, I’m the one who went through her stuff,” Dash replied, slugging him lightly and chuckling. “We’ll just tell her when she...” Dash began before an orange streak shot out the door and into the sky, leaving an afterimage on the mare’s vision in an astounding bout of agility. “...when she comes out. Uh...” Dash faltered, staring at the open door. “I wouldn’t want to be Pipsqueak when she finds him. What do you think, Tank?” Before she had even finished speaking, the wise tortoise had safely retreated inside his shell. “Yeah, I thought so too...”
Whispering leaves welcomed a meditative farm filly home, the serenity of Sweet Apple Acre’s serving as the perfect backdrop for a simple mind to reach simple conclusions. While Applebloom didn’t have the same harrowing fear of all things girly, she did find the field of romance to be unfamiliar, and as prone as Rumble had proven himself to be clumsy, breaking anything and everything including himself, she was more afraid of herself at that moment than anything else. Most ponies her age had barely even held hooves, if that, and yet she had ended up in Rumble’s sweet, exhilarating, terrifying embrace twice in one morning, though the fall from the barn was less than romantic. All these things she could excuse if it weren’t for the fact that she found it strikingly enjoyable. Why? She hadn’t the faintest idea, and as she trotted up the ramp, preparing to shed her introspection and set her mind to a more constructive task, she ground to a halt as she found Applejack standing inside, the mare’s gaze dropping from the “fixed” room back down to her sister as a wry grin spread across the pregnant mare’s muzzle.
“Sis? What’re you doin’ here?”
“Just checkin’ out yer fort, an’ ah gotta say, Applebloom; either you’ve been bitten by the love bug an’ didn’t notice, or you were straight delusional when you told me the roof was fixed.” Applebloom immediately opened her mouth to protest her senseless defacing of Rumble’s work, but instead, her jaw dropped open farther as she actually took the time to look at it. “Yeah, that was mah first reaction, too,” Applejack chuckled, taking a seat and waiting for the filly to recover from the shock. There were so many flaws in the job Rumble had done that, in the face of the colt’s kindness, she had failed to notice, but were now glaringly obvious to her well honed senses. Clearly, the roof was at fault, and regardless of her living audience of one, it was going to hear about it.
“You lyin’ hunk o’ shingles! Ah thought you said you were doin’ fine! You... but... ‘ow ‘n tarnation can ya say you’re fine when ya look like... like... ah can’t say any o’ the words comin’ t’ mind, that’s ‘ow bad it is! Just look at you!” she ranted, jabbing a hoof towards the ceiling. “Them nails are way too big; see ‘ow they’re pokin’ through? What if one of us gets real excited? It’ll be a lob... lobo... a nasty, painful hole in the noggin’, that’s what! And... and dear Celestia, Luna, an’ every constellation known to pony an’ beast alike... If these boards were any more askew, they’d be a work o’ that ‘orrible mess known as ‘modern art!’ This is... ah just...”
“Whoa nelly, looks like we both got a little Granny Smith in us...” Applejack muttered under her breath, recounting her overly affectionate mannerisms with the non-living that were most prominently displayed with Bloomberg. As Applebloom struggled to find the words to fuel further fiery oration, she instead fell silent, her memory of the morning casting the scene in a new light, as if lit by the morning rays once more.
Ah wonder how much longer ah’ll be able t’ tell mahself ah ain’t fallen fer you, Rumble. It’s only been a day, but you’ve done somethin’ special fer me ah can’t remember anypony else doin’. Ah’m always so dead set on doin’ everythin’ mahself that nopony ever even tries t’ fix somethin’ o’ mine. It’s a ‘orrible job, but it’s... beautiful in its own way.
“Applebloom, ah don’t mean t’ sound like a crotchety ol’ crone, but that smile is tellin’ tales ah don’t much like the sound of.” Applebloom simply grinned wider, feeling that same strange warmth she experienced when the colt held her as she remembered just how much the colt had been through in the last twenty-four hours alone.
“Well, o’ course ah’m smilin’! Why wouldn’t ah be? So, Rumble didn’t do the greatest job ever...” Her ears fell flat as Applejack gave her the infamous “you’d best be honest” stares. “Ok, fine, ah’ll admit it’s the worst mess ah’ve seen since that slop the Flim Flam brother’s called cider, but darn it, sis, can’t you at least see he tried?” Applejack raised her eyes, nodded once, and brought her gaze level with the adamant filly’s once more.
“Nope, not really.”
“Well, maybe you just don’t want to see it!” Applebloom defended, holding her head high and trotting towards the second exit to grab her art supplies from the second story, but her sister’s soft, serious tone bid her turn in the doorway, soothing the filly’s indignation and garnering her attention.
“Maybe you’re right, Bloom,” Applejack conceded with a shrug, lifting her eyes once more to the dismal patchwork. “Ah didn’t dabble in courtin’ anypony until Silver came along, an’ even though ah was an adult with plenty o’ lessons under mah stetson, may it rest in peace, it was one o’ the scariest things ah ever had t’ face. Ah’ll say it again, Applebloom, this ain’t about Rumble or how nice he is or isn’t, though if he’s mean, he’ll get what’s comin’ to him,” Applejack asserted, backing it with a rueful smile and light laughter. “Ah guess ah’m havin’ a little trouble lettin’ ya dabble in somethin’ ah think is dangerous. As it is, comin’ home t’ find me here probably makes me seem like a shameful snoop.”
“Apple pie, sis...” Applejack barely had time to drop her eyes from the roof before two filly hooves wrapped around her waist. “Family is always gonna be first. An’ since you ain’t lyin’, ah won’t either; ah’m... ah’m a little scared mahself...”
“Phew! That’s a load off mah shoulders...” Applejack laughed, wiping fictional sweat from her brow. “Can’t say why that brings me so much comfort, hearin’ ya say that, but it sure did me well all the same. Applebloom?” she stopped, releasing her hold as her sister pulled back and gave her full attention to the mare. “Ah want you t’ feel like you can talk t’ me ‘bout anythin’ at all. Ah know ah’ve been kinda stubborn ‘bout this whole subject...”
“Only kinda?”
“Ok, ah’ve been a right pain in the flank on a few points!” Applejack exclaimed dramatically, throwing her hooves up in mock despair. “Big Macintosh was always there fer me when ah needed him. Never got upset with me unless ah really deserved it, an’ you’ve helped me too. Ah’ve been given a lot, and taken a lot, so now, ah’d like t’ give back to you. Apple pie?” she concluded, raising a hoof.
“Apple pie, ferever!” Applebloom cheered, pounding her sister’s hoof with her own and giving the mare one more squeeze before shifting gears and moving to her forepony attitude. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, ah have some pressin’ business to attend to. Rumble’s been right kind t’ me, an’ ah need t’ make him somethin’ t’ show it.”
“Wait, yer not gonna fix the roof?” Applejack asked, slightly bewildered and convinced that would be the at the top of her sister’s to do list, but as the filly shook her head, Applejack realized that her sister may have found something that could rival even her compulsive need for structural perfection.
“Sis, ah think the noggin’ ah done nearly turned t’ jelly is a bit more important. An’ besides, ah kinda like it. It’s, uh... rustic?”
“It’s ‘modern’ art.”
“Oh, now, you just had t’ say that!” Applebloom whined, covering her eyes and desperately trying to focus on the venerable efforts behind the shoddy work rather than the atrocity itself. “You know ah can’t stand that... that... oh, just thinkin’ ‘bout it makes me crazy! ‘Modern art’ is Discord’s way o’ gettin’ back at everypony with a shred o’ artistic integrity!”
“An’ with that lovely thought, this flaky pastry is going to save herself before the filling boils over,” Applejack teased, tapping her sister on the shoulder and starting on her way back to the farm. Applebloom chanced a peak at the room, hoping it was safe, but instantly covered her eyes again, muttering under her breath for a couple of seconds before calling out after Applejack.
“Wait, sis! Ah still need permission t’ go see Rumble!”
“Huh? Oh, right,” Applejack replied dismissively, continuing on her way out the door. “Just don’t be home too late, an’ try not t’ land ‘im in the hospital, ya hear?” Not bothering to dignify her sister with a response, Applebloom shook off the mantle of distraction and pointedly ignored the roof, made straight to the second level and began pulling out all of the art supplies she could find so she could set about drafting a mental blueprint of how to best make her apology. As designs, flashy and elegant, shifted through her mind, she let slip a sigh that she was again thinking about things all the wrong way.
Rumble doesn’t seem the type t’ get all excited over somethin’ just ‘cause it shines like the sun. Besides, this ain’t some art project, this is an apology. So... what do ah really want t’ show him? Teased to the surface by her willingness to open her mind, that wonderfully frightening sensation rose slowly within her chest, and the path became clear.
“Heh, ah really do make things too complicated, don’t ah...” she murmured, chuckling softly as she selected a clean sheet of white construction paper and got to work. Even before any of the glitter or lace that was to come, she pondered for just a moment and drafted her message to a colt that she already counted amongst her closest of friends. With just enough decoration to show she cared, she sat back and felt sorrow recede in the face of the excitement welling within at the thought of delivering her gift. However, there was yet one thing missing, and if she had been listening with her mind, she never would have caught it. “Well... ah guess a little bit o’ glitter glue wouldn’t hurt...”
Her last minute alteration was, perhaps, a bit more revealing and forward than she meant it to be, but she couldn’t deny it accented the simplicity perfectly, and beaming with confidence, she looked out over the orchard while the fast setting glue dried quickly in the sunlight. Ah can hardly wait t’ see the look on ‘is face! He’s gonna love it, ah just know it! A quick test revealed that the gift was ready to be delivered, and after a glance at the clock revealed that the afternoon class was already in session, she snatched up the card and galloped straight towards the school, protecting her gift and weaving through the crowds. Actually, the crowds more made way for her, the determination and anticipation shining her in eyes undeniable and making it clear nopony could alter her course. Arriving at the schoolyard well after the bell had rung to signal the start of classes, she took a minute or two to catch her breath, held her head high, and knocked open the doors.
“Applebloom?” Miss Cheerilee asked, tilting her head to the side and wondering why one of her better students was causing no small disturbance. “Is everything all right?”
“Uh...” she began, dropping the note to her hoof. Well, this suddenly ain’t so easy anymore, with everypony lookin’ at me... It’s that thing ah added at the end, isn’t it? Focus, darn it! “Ah’m sorry t’ interrupt an’ everythin’, but could ya show me where Rumble sits? He must be runnin’ real late, ‘cause ah don’t see ‘im, an’ ah had somethin’ ah... ah kinda wanted t’ give to ‘im...” she trailed off, blushing lightly.
“I’m very sorry, Applebloom, but Rumble isn’t coming to class today.”
“Huh? Why not?”
“Well, you see, Thunderlane came by earlier to tell me that Rumble couldn’t make it to class today. He seems to have had a number of accidents this morning, and Thunderlane thought it best that he stay in bed for the day.”
“Accid...” Applebloom began, unable to finish. He ain’t... even well enough t’ come t’ school? All those accidents were ‘cause of me... Rumble, ah’m so sorry... What had once been a source of pride and excitement melted away into a flashy reminder of her shame. It ain’t enough, not even close t’ cover what’s happened, but... but it’s all ah’ve got. Blinking back the moisture rising to her eyes, Applebloom clamped the card in her muzzle and bolted from the class, resolute that, regardless of how inadequate it may be, she would show Rumble she was sorry in any way she could.
The aura of gloom surrounding a single filly, sitting alone in the center swing of an all but abandoned park, was almost palpable; merely passing by would surely have sapped the mirth from any foals daring enough to approach. Silver Spoon slowly lifted her head as Sweetie Belle and Ruby approached, the broken earth pony’s red rimmed eyes conveying an intense apathy, the kind that can only be found when one’s tears have run completely dry. It struck Ruby as odd that at that moment, when she needed to be giving an encouraging word the most, none came, and neither did any jibes or snobby attitude from the filly with an empty gaze; Silver Spoon said not a word, and slowly dropped her eyes once more to the ground as Sweetie Belle tugged gently on Ruby’s shoulder, leading her a short distance away.
“Ruby, that’s... I don’t even know what could have happened, but she doesn’t even look like the same pony. What should we do?” Ruby had no real answer, not having any idea herself. Whatever had happened was serious, enough to completely restructure her personality, at least for a time, and given how delicate her condition probably was, she doubted simply trotting over and asking was the greatest idea.
“If... she’s really hurting that much,” Ruby started, swallowing hard and turning away, “then having both of us here is probably a bad idea. I mean, would you really want to spread something that painful around to more ponies than you needed to?”
“You’ve got a point,” Sweetie Belle conceded, staring a moment before nodding sagely. “So... would you like me to leave?”
“Honestly? No, not really,” Ruby replied with a half-hearted smile that quickly faded. “But... that’s probably what’s best. I’ll see what I can do and meet up with you later if I can. If you don’t see me... well, I’d like to help her as much as I can, so if she decides to put up with me for more than five seconds, I may not see you until tomorrow.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Sweetie Belle quipped, shooting her an encouraging grin and trotting a few steps away before turning back. “Oh, and Ruby? If you think it’d help her out, you can always offer to let her hang out with us. Even if she... acts like normal, she could clearly use a few good friends.” Ruby closed the distance between them quickly and pulled her into a tight embrace, indebted to her friend for her understanding.
“Thank you, Sweetie Belle. I know you’re just doing this for me, but... I really appreciate it anyways.”
“Come on, I have a heart too, you know,” Sweetie replied, pulling away and chuckling lightly despite the seriousness of the setting. “Nopony... could look at that and not feel bad... except for that rotten, stuck up... gah, I’m gonna go write a song about her... Let’s see, what rhymes with ‘prissy snob?’” Ruby stifled a laugh as she waved Sweetie Belle off, slowly dropping her hoof and preparing herself mentally for what was to come. The unicorn took a deep breath and turned back to Silver Spoon, who still hadn’t budged an inch nor made a sound, and after a few minutes of contemplation, slowly approached and sat down on the swing next to her.
If she wants to talk, I’m here, and if she wants to leave, she’s free. Silver Spoon, I’m extending my hoof, but... will you take it? One minute passed without the slightest change, two without a word. Ruby shifted slightly, the clinking of the chain links sounding like a hammer to a flagpole so quiet was the park, and a quick look around revealed that what few ponies were present had left, leaving the two of them completely alone. After ten long minutes had passed, Ruby began to wonder how long the silence could last, but she was resolute, and reaffirmed within herself that she would not move until the filly either left, or said her piece.
I wish I knew more about you, Silver Spoon. It’s hard to know how to help when I have no idea what you like, how you live... All I’ve ever seen you do is follow Diamond Tiara, but now that you’re away from her, is... is this really who you are? You... look so...
“Have...” Cracked, hollow, and hushed, the single word commanded all of Ruby’s attention, the filly snapping her head up and turning to face Silver Spoon whose gaze remained locked on the ground. “Have you... ever felt betrayed?” Devoid of attitude, the heavy question was asked with the frightening honesty of a filly who couldn’t reach the knife plunged into her back, and Silver Spoon’s pain became Ruby’s as her empathy was set from generous to overflowing.
“...I’ve never even seen my birth father, and my mother was considered for a long time by many to be a slothful drunk who makes little contribution to society. I’d... be lying if I said I’ve never felt betrayed by that...” Silver Spoon, for the first time since her arrival, showed some signs of life, her muzzle slowly turning as she stared at Ruby for just a few fleeting seconds before hanging her head once more. While it was an assumption, albeit a well-founded one, that Diamond Tiara was behind Silver Spoon’s condition, Ruby exerted all her strength not to let the fury overcome her; if Diamond Tiara was still acting normal, or even worse than normal, while her best friend was sitting alone, then clearly Silver Spoon was the victim.
“Do...” Ruby started, catching herself and shaking her head. I can’t... I can’t just ask, not yet. I barely know her, and she’s... putting a lot of trust in me just by staying. But, I can’t just do nothing... Even before she turned, Ruby could feel the intensity in the filly’s eyes burning into her, but she refused to let her discomfort taint her with weakness, nor would turn away. As Silver Spoon asked one, simple question of untold importance, Ruby met her gaze with gentleness, kindness, and acceptance for whatever the filly was keeping hidden.
“Have you... ever kept a secret?”
Prudence, lonely and neglected, raised a feeble voice to dissuade an orange pegasus filly from her course, raising the notion that perhaps apprehending Pipsqueak in the middle of class while surrounded by his peers and yet again giving Cheerilee cause to sigh would be a bad idea, but no, Scootaloo caught sight of the school, expertly swooped down to the ground, and barged in the door with all the grace of, well, Rumble on a bad day. Cheerilee nearly swallowed her chalk as the reverberating slam of the doors echoed through the class, and while she discretely spat the offending ill-tasting snack from her mouth, all eyes fixed on Scootaloo who, at that moment, couldn’t care less. Tact joined it’s good friend prudence, gingerly climbing down into the dank, dark hole it had taken shelter in, offering a comforting hoof and a shoulder to cry on while Scootaloo made things very interesting for the afternoon class.
“What the hay were you thinking, Pipsqueak?!?” Scootaloo cried, dashing over to where the colt sat obediently at his desk which suddenly made room not just for his paper, but also four little filly hooves. He didn’t respond at first, as contrary to what one might think, he was quite a well-behaved student in class after having sat through a gentle lecture by both Luna and Cheerilee, though Scootaloo’s sudden presence and obvious disregard for manners left the hapless colt bewildered.
“...ahoy?” he offered hesitantly, simultaneously stoked Scootaloo was so hyped and rueful that it just had to be during class of all times. Sadly, his perception of her mood soon shifted as she bellowed about things neither he nor the rest of the class knew anything about, but in her frantic state, she could only react to the seeming betrayal of a close friend.
“Ok, so maybe it’s true that I use a lot of conditioner on my mane, but so what? I happen to like my mane, and I take care of it for me, ok? Me! Nopony else! And yes, I know it’s totally lame that I think carnations are beautiful, and it’s terribly girly that I bathe twice a day sometimes, but what the hay, Pipsqueak? How could you go through my room while I was gone?” Oh, tell me he’s not going to deny it... Don’t even try giving me that look, Pipsqueak.
“Uh...” he started, glancing at her hooves, which had made quite a bit of noise during her rant, and then up to the filly to whom they belonged, her face flushed crimson as she strained to make her point. Ok, so she seems kind of upset, and I should probably say something nice, even though I have no idea what she’s talking about. Come on, what would Gale say? Oh, I’ve got it! “Ye sure can dance a merry jig on me table, lass.” Why does her eye keep trying to close and then opening again? Did it get confused? “Are ye sure you're feelin’ alright? Ye look even more green in the gills than ye did earlier, mate.”
“Al... alright? Are you kidding me?” Scootaloo sputtered, her newly acquired eye twitch taking a break while she attempted to stave off the unfortunate colt’s untimely demise with a few deep breaths, though it only gave her fuel to rant. “No, I’m not all right! How could I be, after you broke into my room, went through my stuff, and discovered all my secrets? If I wanted ponies to know about my dresses, or my striped socks, or... or everything else, I’d tell them, but I don’t!”
“Well then why’re you hollerin’ so everypony can hear them, deckswab?” Pipsqueak frantically fired back, unsure of how to respond to her misdirected animosity. “I’m all fer a good adventure, lass, but even I know some places are forbidden territory. I don’t know where you got the crazy notion that this captain explored yer cabin, but I haven’t, an’ it’s darn close t’ mutiny, all these things you’re spoutin’.” Scootaloo’s frustration slowly turned to a gut-churning fear as she realized that, even if Pipsqueak were lying, she’d just blurted out far more than what could have been gleaned from her ravaged room. Everypony knew.
“But... so... you didn’t... go in my room while I was at school?” A filly’s heart fell to the pit of her stomach as Pipsqueak shook his head, his honesty undeniable, his innocence clear, and his quiet voice, devoid of his usual dialect, carrying all the force of a sledgehammer. She wasn’t the one who had been betrayed, but the colt she had just railed against, publicly and without restraint, and his words threatened to shatter what remained of her fragmented facade of strength.
“No. I’m hurt, Scootaloo. I’m used to being accused of all sorts of things, but coming from you, it’s worse.” Her eyes dropped to the desk, then to the floor as she turned away, convinced that life as she knew it had just come to an end.
My image is gone, my secrets are now known by everypony in class, and I’ve just blown up at somepony who doesn’t even deserve it, but dang it, I’m NOT going to cry in front of him! I’d... have nothing left if I did that... He’d never see me as cool or tough again, and probably stop hanging out with me, and... Such thoughts did little to help her cause, and agitation with herself and everything else pumped life into her wings. “Fine, whatever, I’m sorry, ok?” Pipsqueak blinked once as his desk was kicked over by a filly jumping into flight and swooping out the door, leaving nought but an uneasy silence and a few orange feathers resting in the colt’s lap. Cheerilee was used to dealing with many different situations, but that had to be the first time a student had caused that big of an uproar in class, and thus she had remained quiet until Pipsqueak spoke up.
“Pardon me, Miss Cheerilee?”
“Y-yes, Pipsqueak, what is it?” she replied, trotting around the front desk and over towards the colt who was acting the very model of a proper student.
“Can I have permission to go try and find out why Scootaloo just exploded?” Spoken with unabashed seriousness in a manner-of-fact tone that would leave Twilight nodding her agreement, the room erupted into laughter while Pipsqueak diligently waited for an answer from his teacher who he couldn’t help but notice was sighing a fair bit more than normal.
“Yes, Pipsqueak, that’s fine...”
“Thank you very much, Miss Cheerilee. Now then...” Snatching up the orange feathers and stuffing it into his mane, he dashed to the door and shed the weighty mantle of manners he dutifully wore in class at Luna’s behest. “Scootaloo! Ye best make yerself scarce, ‘cause when this captain finds ye, there’ll be consequences! On me honor, I’m gonna hunt ye down!” If anything, the young colt was honorable, and with all haste he tore out the door, searching the skies and having little success due to the large patches of cloud dotting the sky, each one a potential hiding spot where the filly would be effectively beyond his reach.
Curses, the weather be against me! Pausing in the center road to catch his breath, he slowly panned a circle, his eyes darting from place to place. Lady Luck, ye be a fickle lass, but this captain would be much obliged if ye’d show a little kindness an’ let me ‘elp me damsel in distress. On me honor, I’ll never call ‘er a deckswab again. So... have a heart, will ye? Riding on the winds of good favor, he saw an orange speck drop from the skies, and with a roguish grin, he again returned to his pursuit of the best treasure he’d found yet, even if it did run a fair bit more than gold.
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‘Modern art’ is Discord’s way o’ gettin’ back at everypony with a shred o’ artistic integrity!”
Nicely put, AJ.
I want to say something, but i don't really know what, except that i liked it... dl.dropbox.com/u/31471793/FiMFiction/emoticons/misc_Twilight_crazy.png dl.dropbox.com/u/31471793/FiMFiction/emoticons/misc_Twilight_crazy.png dl.dropbox.com/u/31471793/FiMFiction/emoticons/misc_Twilight_crazy.png dl.dropbox.com/u/31471793/FiMFiction/emoticons/misc_Twilight_crazy.png dl.dropbox.com/u/31471793/FiMFiction/emoticons/misc_Twilight_crazy.png dl.dropbox.com/u/31471793/FiMFiction/emoticons/misc_Twilight_crazy_invert.png dl.dropbox.com/u/31471793/FiMFiction/emoticons/misc_Twilight_crazy_invert.png dl.dropbox.com/u/31471793/FiMFiction/emoticons/misc_Twilight_crazy_invert.png dl.dropbox.com/u/31471793/FiMFiction/emoticons/misc_Twilight_crazy_invert.png dl.dropbox.com/u/31471793/FiMFiction/emoticons/misc_Twilight_crazy_invert.png
Dear sweet mother of Luna.
Hee....pff....pffbwahahahaa!!!
Heee, awww why you make the foals suffers? Poor AB feeling guilty about Rumble being clumsy, Silver Spoon is miserable *gives her a hug* and Scootaloo's privacy has been violated, she exposed her own deepest secrets in front of the class, and is feeling horrible and now Pip feels bad! Why you make us suffer so much in sympathy? Whhhhy?
Darnit! This had all better be resolved happily or so help me---!!!
Great story! Cannot wait for more!
Scootaloo why?!
Hey Dash, Storm? You do realize you're playing with a very nasty orange and fuscia fire, right?
Storm and Rainbow Dash are EEEEEVIIIILLLLL. Please give us more SpitDas---Wait... Wrong author/fic (primalcorn). What's the Queen of Spooning's secret? And also, PONIES!
Zat was great. I need more.
So many great lines in this!
So, Sweetie Belle is comfortable with her feelings, Applebloom is getting used to them, aaaand
Scootaloo is still in denial? Sounds about right.
Oh, and I think Rarity needs to see a shrink, because she is a bit of a psycho!!!
1080489
Nopony messes with her little Sweetie. Not even their parents.
...dayum. this is one convoluted plotline. i effcking love it! want more!
Woah, kinda concerned about Spoony, there's any number of secrets a little girl could be keeping that are fairly bad news.
Yet another fantastic chapter. I can't wait to find out what Silver Spoon's secret is. She's one of my favorite canon background ponies so I'm interested to see what you do with her.
And I notice that AB is still oh so conveniently forgetting to mention Thunderlane and his situation. That's gonna be all kinds of drama and I can't wait for it
.
apple pie mah brother, apple pie.
you promised, you delivered. love this new chapter and honestly for all the stuff you built up in the last one I feel like we've sturred up even more here.
keep em coming.
Really good chapter can't wait for the next and storm and dash are in for it
Everyone has already said it though, but still...
Another great chapter.
Great read.
Can't wait for the next one.
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What parental/older sibling figure would not want a picture as adorable as that?
I'm scared of Rarity now
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We all are my friend. We all are.
Did somepony mention...re-dead?
images4.wikia.nocookie.net/__cb58377/zelda/images/f/f1/ReDead_(Ocarina_of_Time).png
A picture is worth a thousand words so I will describe raritys out burst with a thousand words AHEM...static.fjcdn.com/pictures/Fucking+awesome+katana_db25a6_4100787.jpg
(reads first paragraph)
t2.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcTe3tJZA7Y6YNkBvu2eTwre81SxpDsuadAuv9OtnglsA8Vc8UMh
Well, most clever way of denying affection I've ever heard.
Let's see: Applebloom feels really bad about Rumble, Scootaloo falls from one trap into another...
and who is really the 'girliest' filly of the CMC here? After that display in class
And Pipsqueak is steadily rising in the ranks of ponies until he maybe reaches 'best pony'tm status
I'm anticipating Sweetie Belle's reaction to her parents after Raritys 'session' with them, too.
fc02.deviantart.net/fs70/f/2011/309/5/7/rarity__s_mom_in_pants_by_flavinbagel-d4f828r.png
that is all
1079944 I would have worded it otherwise. I do agree with the general sentiment. I mean, seriously, any talentless hack can have a completely black or white, or even paint splattered canvass. I mean, there are 4 year olds that can draw better than some of those 'modern art' artists. Modern art is society's way of compensating for the drop in artistic quality due to the time that is spent engaged in electronic media and entertainment, rather than the time which is necessary to hone and develop the artistic skills.
4989652 Speaking of which, there's a drawing I really should be finishing right about now...
Something that can be said for multiple ponies here: you done goofed!