The Sour Grapes Chronicles

by The Incredible Werekitty

Discord Datcord

Sour Grapes had gone into town for some errands, and decided to stop by the local tea shop to pick up some lunch. She just wasn’t in the mood deal with Pinkie Pie, today, so she chose to visit To A Tea. However, when she entered, her ears were bombarded by the sound of Doctor Crabapple’s ire.

“Now listen here you pointy-headed unicorn. This is a foal’s well-being we’re talking about!”

Grapes quietly glanced around the room to the expressions of the other patrons and found none had reacted to Crabapple’s comment. In a way she was glad, to anypony who didn’t know Crabapple his statement might have sounded tribalist, but in fact it showed the familiarity between himself and his less emotional contemporary. True to form, Coldhoof wasn’t even shaken by the mild insult and spoke in his usual even tone.

“This is true, however I was merely pointing out that samples of Earshot’s tissue, bone and marrow would prove most advantageous to learning more about his breed. You are the one who is acting as if I would take such painfully procured samples by force.”

“Ah Sour Grapes, hello and good morning to you. Come join us, our conversation is not yet through.” Zecora called out to Sour Grapes, diverting everypony from the topic at hoof.

“And what are you intellectual giants wrangling about this time, hm? I’m hardly the pony to put in a word about medical matters,” Grapes uttered, trotting over.

“Oh. This,” Crabapple said, pulling a letter with the remains of a dark purple wax seal on it. “This is an official consultation of my peers. I got an invitation from Earshot’s ‘Dark Council’ to go and get their health in order… you know, just in case. So I gathered a group of some of the smartest ponies I know to help me get ready to treat a batch of Night Ponies… only ONE of us can’t get it through his pointy head that we can’t just take core samples from Earshot like he’s a tree.”

“An exaggerated but not wholly inaccurate summary,” Coldhoof said sipping his tea calmly. “I was merely ‘putting it on the table’ as it were, that the more we know about Earshot the less Dr. Crabapple will have to guess at later.”

“He is going to the Night Ponies? To offer vaccinations, and generally put their health in order? Do you, honestly, think they would object to his taking samples from willing volunteers, once he is there? I imagine if you wrote to Princess Luna, specifically, about the health and well being of her particular subjects, Crabby, you would find yourself kitted out with the very best in portable laboratory equipment the crown could buy.”

“Well… yes. I suppose she would… That is to say…” Crabapple began before muttering under his breath “Dangit. Why didn’t I think of that?”

“Because it’s obvious?” Grapes observed snarkily.

“FINE!” He agreed before pulling the notepad in the middle of the table over to his side and scribbled hastily on it. “Write letter to Princess Luna. Heck it’s worth a shot.”

“She IS the princess of the Night, and the Night Ponies do revere her,” Grapes observed. “Couldn’t hurt, and it would save Earshot a lot of prodding and poking. I’m sure Rarity’s generosity for comfort items would only extend so far… I’d say about as far as her patience with you, Doctor Coldhoof. I take it Doctor Goodall is here because of his bat-like qualities? I also note a distinct absence of the town pediatrician. Guess it is that time of year for little foals’ mishaps. He has his hooves full with a certain trio of mischief-makers...”

“Oh yes. Dr Top is busy with some kind of ‘Sap-related incident’ but promises to give us a list of his recommendations,” Goodall said with smile. “Truth is he’s a little jealous that he never had a chance to be the first to look this ‘new’ breed of pony foal over but he said he’d get over it. But yeah. You’re right, Sour Grapes. I was called in because in the same way that various kinds of pegasi have commonalities to different kinds of birds, Coldhoof, Crabapple and Zecora figured Earshot might have biological analogues with bats.”

“Considering the bat-like features, I’m not all that surprised by the supposition,” Grapes observed.

“Actually I found it amazing to get a good look at him. Sure, bring me a dog, I got it diagnosed in seconds. A snake even faster, but to be honest, never seen a real live Night Pony before. I hardly knew where to begin.” The silver-haired Earth Pony chuckled and shrugged. “Fortunately he didn’t put up a fuss when I wound up going with the tried and true methods of veterinary medicine. And he liked the dog treats I keep on hand. At first I thought because of his quasi-carnivorous diet he might be related to more protein-hungry bats like Myotis vivesi or Vampire Bats. Then I did a little research. You wanna know what I found?”

“I’m all a-flutter,” Grapes uttered, deadpan.

The mare pulled a large book out from her bag and put on the table, flipping to a marked page which bore a rather frightening-looking image of a bat, with it’s wings outstretched and sharp teeth bared in a ferocious manner.

“Say hello to the common Vampire Fruit Bat. Don’t be fooled by the photo, they just caught this cute fellow in mid-yawn.” Goodall chortled and flipped to the next few pages that went into detail on organs and habits. “They can be a pest to fruit farmers but they’re mostly harmless, and perhaps most importantly… vegetarians. Earshot’s kin may have adapted to a wider diet but my professional opinion is, a thousand years ago, natural Night-Ponies were never anywhere near the threat that popular culture thinks they have.”

“History is written by the victors, Doctor Goodall, or at least those what were left behind to write it. And those who were left behind to write the history, and later folklore, had just been through the Nightmare Moon Insurrection,” Grapes said with a sad smile. “So it would only natural to turn perfectly harmless ponies who just happened to look a bit scary, and be quite different into monsters.”

“It is true that history is seldom fair. Some call me witch-doctor instead of Medicine Mare.” Zecora added with a slight smirk. “We fear what we do not understand, it seems to be the rule of any land.”

“If not a rule, an all too common practice that can be nipped in the bud with education, and understanding along with the much vaunted love and tolerance,” Grapes uttered. “Love and tolerance, though, only comes after it’s been pounded, forcibly, into hard heads that ‘the other’ are often not so different from ourselves. Even then some heads are just too darned hard.”

“Pity we can’t just have Twilight and her friends rainbow-blast the ‘stupid’ out of everypony in Equestria.” Crabapple chuckled. “Bet that’d take way too long.”

“Assuming that the Elements of Harmony can only affect one pony at a time, and have unlimited uses then by my calculations that would take so long that by the time you finish one generation, you would have a new one at adult levels.” Coldhoof said scribbling out some figures on the sheet and showing them to the others. “In the end it’s a noble, yet futile and possibly unethical endeavor to ‘blast the stupid’ out of others.”

“And we don’t even know if they could ‘blast the stupid’ out of ponies. Ignorance is bliss, and bliss can be a fine source of harmony,” Grapes uttered, obviously in a fine cynical mood.

“You know, this is getting kinda dark. Let’s focus on our original problem here,” Goodall pointed out. “Now I know you’re a general practitioner, Crabapple, so I’ll give you some of my veterinary journals to take with you. Be on the watchout for rabies and fungal infections. Bat colonies can be very susceptible to them.”

“Hm… Good to know,” Grapes observed. “But remember these are ponies. They’re bound to practice basic hygiene…”

Coldhoof nodded and flipped the page over on the notebook. “Perhaps my best contribution will be creating a list of equipment that you will need to be efficient in your task. “

“Well the more you know, the better, and easier the trip will be,” Grapes said. “About what to pack, not about trying to take core samples of a ten-year-old colt. Just saying.”

“Your advice is noted and appreciated.” Coldhoof said, scribbling away. His writing looking oddly “blocky” and precise rather than the usual illegible “Medical Scrawl” the average pony would expect from a doctor. “One can only hope that your high expectations of the Moon Princess is duly placed. While limited resources would no doubt produce a challenge, they also can hinder such an operation as this.”

“I wish I could go with you. The plants there, I would wish to view. They would have properties I had never seen, and would make my potions extra keen,” Zecora said, then eyed Crabapple. “Now when you visit, you are sure to find ponies who are similar in kind to a zebra mare on which you took a chance. Be sure to give their ways a glance. ”

The green earth pony blinked then smiled at Zecora.

“Of course. Thanks for reminding me to do more than just try to ‘civilise’ them, Zecora. If Earshot is any kind of indication, I’m probably gonna learn as much from them as they will from me.”

“Oh, look, he is learning,” Grapes snarked with a grin.

Everypony at the table laughed, even Coldhoof gave a slight turn of corner of his mouth in response to the joke. Grapes however noticed a raised newspaper at a corner table shake before being brought down abruptly. She instantly recognised Nurse Dearheart, even out of uniform. The unicorn mare seemed to glare at the table of healers for a moment before she calmed down, stood up, tossed a few bits on the table before heading out the door.

“You know she’s got a crush on you, right?” Grapes said, nodding to the exiting form of Nurse Dearheart.

“What? Who?” Coldhoof said turning his head to see the last of Dearheart leaving. “Oh. You are mistaken. Nurse Dearheart and I only share a professional relationship.”

“Right. Like she’s not totally jealous of Zecora,” Grapes observed. “And I wasn’t talking to YOU, Coldhoof....”

“Ah. Well, my statement still stands. And besides, it is obvious that she’s infatuated with Dr. Crabapple.”

“WHAT!” Crabapple said, instantly on his feet, staring at Coldhoof.

“Who was the pony I was actually addressing,” Grapes said with a roll of her eyes.

“But… but… but…” Crabapple stammered trying to get his mind around the new information. “She... LIKES me?”

”This appears to be universally true, that the female notices attraction well before the males do,” Zecora observed.

“But she’s… she’s… DEARHEART! She’s never… I mean she’s so…” he took a deep breath and spoke in an almost pleading tone. “Just look at me. Why me?”

Grapes very visibly facehoofed. “I would presume she’s gotten to know you, and more than just the grouchy mask you wear. She knows you’ve got a good heart, and are very dedicated to your craft and your patients. What nurse would NOT be attracted to that?”

Crabapple looked at Grapes a moment before looking at his peers around the table. He then slowly lowered himself back into his chair looking confused and a little sad, as if he had just thrown away something he probably would have really wanted. The group was quiet a moment before Zecora stood up and sighed.

“Come with me, Sour Grapes. We have moments before she escapes.”

“Oh… Kay…” Grapes said following the zebra out the door.

The two mares exited the shop and found the usual crowd of Ponyville traffic.

“Our quarry cannot have gone far,” Zecora said scanning the immediate area. “There! Dearheart! Stop where you are!”

“Oh. You.” The nurse said with a touch of venom. “What do you want?”

“Spare me your ire, spare me your woe, there are just some things we need to know,” Zecora replied.

“Like what?”

“First off, Dearheart, I wish you to speak true. In your own words tell me, what’s gotten into you?”

“Nothing! Nothing’s gotten into me! THAT’S the problem!” Nurse Dearheart’s hooves went up in a heartbeat to cover her mouth as a fierce blush rose up to colour her cheeks.

Grapes blinked, then started laughing hard. “I presume you’re wanting the good Doctor Crabapple to… probe you deeply?”

Poor Dearheart seemed too mortified at her own words to do much more than give a tiny nod worthy of Fluttershy herself. Zecora smiled and gave an amused shake of her head.

“You wish the good doctor was your mate, so why am I the target of your hate?”

“He… he likes you so much, Zecora. He spends so much time with you. You two are so alike, that you get along so well and both want to help others and, and… and I don’t have a chance with him.” Dearheart managed to get out.

“He appreciates my company, and my art, but I do not hold his heart,” Zecora replied. “I am a friend, and a professional peer, and it was on a medical matter he wished to bend my ear. You’ve got a chance with him, any old day. I.. uh… well I do not swing that way. And also, any other doubts this should solve, I am already happily involved.”

“Honestly, Crabby was positively shocked at the thought that anypony would find him romantically desirable,” Grapes chimed in.

“He…? Oh, Crabby. You poor, dedicated doofus.” Dearheart said shaking her head with a chuckle. “I thought I was being so obvious.”

“Dearheart, he’s a stallion. You practically have to hit him over the head to get him to notice anything romantic,” Grapes said with a roll of her eyes. “So c’mon, let’s go bash you a stallion-noggin.”

They trotted back to the teashop to find all of the patrons in the middle of a rather enthusiastic performance.

"...On the Mooooooooooon!"

"... What?"

Everyone in the Teashop turned to stare at Sour Grapes, then quickly sat back down as if nothing happened.

"Am I missing something?" Grapes asked.

"Uhhhhh..." Goodall began, looking a little uncomfortable. "We just...were trying to cheer up Crabapple and were quoting… some lines. Just from some silly show we like. That's all."

"Really. Okay."

"Yes. Amusing but frivolous and of no true concern." Coldhoof said, suddenly sounding out-of-characteristically evasive

Grapes pursed her lips, thoughtfully. "'The Tyrant Celestia Variety Show'?"

Everyone in the teashop uncomfortably shifted in their seats. Coldhoof nodded to Grapes and took a breath. "It feels like treason to pay and watch it in it's entirety, and yet... you cannot help but be pulled into the performance."

"I'll reserve judgment until I actually see it."

"I have seen this play as well. It is quite good, from what I tell." Zecora said, guiding Dearheart into the seat next to Crabapple. "Dr. Crabapple should risk a dare, and take miss Dearheart to a performance there."

"What? Me? I... I mean..." he stopped and looked into Dearheart's eyes and smiled weakly. "I'd be delighted to."

"So would I, Crabapple."

"Uh... there's a performance tomorrow."

"What time?"

"Around eight."

"I'll meet you at Sugarcube Corner at seven. How should I dress?"

"Uh... casual. They're pretty low-key."

"Right."

Grapes smirked. "I'll be sure to check it out. A relative of one of my farmhooves is part of the troupe. Might be a good second date with Stormfront, too. He chose last time."

-----------------------------------------------------------------

Some days later, Sour Grapes had followed her crew into town for the Summer Sun Celebration. It was strange to say it but staying home tonight without anypony else on the property would have felt...lonely.

Also she knew if she didn’t come out of her own volition, Applejack probably would have wrangled her to Ponyville anyways. Besides, it was that time of year again to put up a posting for farmshooves for the Vineyard. Might as well deal with two chores at once, right?

What did surprise her though was when the sun set and the moon rose, the streets of Ponyville lit up like a beacon in the night. Everywhere there was all manner of lanterns and lights. Their combined golden glow becoming an amazingly beautiful incandescence that highlighted the countless ponies that trotted happily though the streets. She was transfixed by the sight for a moment, long enough for a purple presence to appear beside her.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Twilight Sparkle shared with Grapes, a small notebook floated in front of her as she wrote down notes. “Everywhere else in Equestria, the night before the Summer Sun Festival has always been a little more of an... afterthought for the whole beginning of summer. Apparently this is a new tradition unique to Ponyville.”

“Lanterns? Why lanterns?” Grapes asked, raising an eyebrow. “So yeah, we had a nightmare abomination hold the sun hostage, and try to shroud Equestria in Eternal Night… However, like another holiday I’m only fond of due to chocolate being half price the day after, that’s no reason to create a holiday.”

“Well it’s not really a NEW holiday but rather an extension of an existing one. I mean everypony was already staying up all night long to see the sunrise… now they have another reason… The Night of a Thousand Lanterns. The mayor said that last year when we had… Nightmare Moon’s return, somepony suggested that to keep ponies from panicking they should light every light in town and bring them into the streets.” The purple unicorn checked her notes as if verifying what she said before continuing. “Now a year later some of the city council members suggested that the city should make it a regular part of the Summer Sun Festival… although the cynical part of me wants to say it’s an excuse to sell lanterns, it really is a neat and fun event.”

“Well this cynical pony agrees with your cynical side,” Grapes observed with a smirk. “It’s a gimmick to sell lanterns, and oil. Though, you’ve got to admit, this is a neat way to do the whole ‘stay up until the sunrise’ thing.”

“Oh definitely! You know, it’s actually so FASCINATING to see this… sociological mutation on the Celebration as it happens. May be worth a note in some of the papers written on the topic. Oooh. Caramels in the shape of the sun and moon interlocked. How clever,” Twilight said, suddenly distracted by a candy hawker’s wares.

Grapes shook her head, amused, and looked around

There was laughter and a lot of chatter going on. Not quite what one would call outright “frivolity”, but definitely there was a lot of fun happening, and anticipation of the dawn. She caught a fleeting glimpse of the Cutiemark Crusaders dashing past, wearing capes and… the darndest headpieces.

“The hay are those things?” Grapes asked, raising an eyebrow.

“What things?” Twilight asked, her mouth full of freshly purchased caramel. Her eyes then fell on the hats in question. “OH! You haven’t seen the deely bobbers yet?”

“The what?” Grapes asked, looking straight at Twilight. “Look, I don’t get out, much, and you live right in the middle of the town, so…”

“Well I don’t know if they’re REALLY called Deely bobbers but that’s what a lot of ponies are calling them. They’re so neat.” She pulled one out of her saddlebags and held it out for her to examine. It was a simple headband with a long springie bit that extended from the forehead with a brightly glowing ball that bobbed about in the most distracting manner. It reminded her of some deep-sea fish that Summer Squall had described to her at one point. “The ball has a simple light-storage spell in it, like a sun-crystal but it’s cheaper. A synthetic material that only stores it for a few hours at a time. Not sure who invented it but it’s really quite clever.”

“But they look so silly,” Grapes said tilting her head, as she examined it.

“I know!” Twilight laughed, watching Pinkie Pie bounce past, her deely bobber bouncing wildly about as she did so. “Sometimes you need something silly in your life. Lets other ponies know there’s some life in you somewhere….” she then lowered her voice to a bit of a growl, “That reminds me… Thank you OH so much for sending that Twilight-shaped balloon to Princess Celestia. She still teases me about it.”

“You’re welcome,” Grapes said with a happy smile. “I thought it would make her day. Turned out I was right.”

“It’s still floating there, tied to the coatrack in her observatory… staring at me.“

Grapes blinked, and giggled. “It’s a balloon, Twilight. It’s not staring at you, despite what you may think,” she said, patting the learned unicorn on the back, gently. “It’s just an optical illusion. I don’t think Redline would put that kind of enchantment on a balloon that’s intended to go to the Princess. That would get him locked up quicker than you can say deely bobber.”

“I know. But it’s so… embarrassing. I keep getting flashbacks to floating about like that… and this strange memory of being a child’s plaything.” she trailed off a moment before chuckling “I’m not really mad at you just… embarrassed.”

“Ah. Right. Moondust,” Grapes said making a face. “Sorry about that. Moondust thought you floating around like a balloon was amusing.”

“Well. I guess that’s ok. I mean I can’t stay mad at Moondust for something like that, right?”

“Exactly. She’s just a kid. She thought it was funny,” Grapes said with a sigh. “So, aside from a way for the local vendors to sell kvetchy knickknacks… There’s no real purpose to this holiday aside from making staying up for the sunrise a little more of an event?”

“Well, they were going to stay up anyways. Might as well make it more fun.” Twilight looked over at the winemaker and smirked impishly. “Try it on.”

“What?” Grapes asked gazing at Twilight flatly.

“Oh come on. You know you wanna see what it’s like.” Twilight teased. “It’s goofy, it’s dumb but at the same time it’s clever. Admit it. You wanna try the deely bobber on.”

Grapes issued a long-suffering sigh. “Fi-i-i-i-i-i-ne,” she uttered, putting the ridiculous thing on. The headband slipped snugly around her forehead and she felt a slight tingle as the magic took effect. The rubber-like bobble glowed softly at the tip, forming a moving bright spot in her field of vision. Every time she made even the slightest head motion, it bobbed about in the silliest way. It WAS silly, she FELT silly… so silly she wanted to giggle. So she did, a bit, then cleared her throat, then looked at Twilight.

“I’m wearing it. It looks positively silly.”

“You’re having fun. Aren’t you, Sour Grapes?”

“You couldn’t make me admit that with Tinhorn’s Truth Telling Cantrip.”

“Thought so.”

“Oh, shut up, Sparkle,” Grapes groused good-naturedly.

“You know,” Twilight giggled. “Rainbow Dash said the same thing to me when I got her to wear one.”

“Oh shut up, Twilight,” Rainbow Dash said, walking past with a multi-coloured deely bobber on her head.

“And yet, Dash is STILL wearing hers,” Twilight giggled.

“Probably because she thinks she can make it ‘cool’, somehow,” Grapes observed, not bothering to take her’s off.

“Yeah. I’m going to send one to Princess Celestia. Most ponies underestimate her sense of humor. I can only imagine her wearing one at the next civic council meeting.”

“I didn’t,” Grapes said with a smirk. “And I like the fact that she has one. Makes her more pony and less plaster saint.”

“Plaster saint,” the purple unicorn said with a smile. “It’s nice to talk to you. My other friends are great but sometimes it’s wonderful to hear a pony talking at the same level as me.”

“That’s what I’m here for. Intelligent conversation, and weapons grade snark,” Grapes quipped.

“I’m going to go and get some more of those caramels before they run out. Wanna meet up later and swap notes?”

“I wasn’t intending to taking notes, but I guess I could…” Grapes observed.

“Well in your case it would probably be more like ‘snarky observations’.”

“You’ll get those. Trust me,” Grapes said with a smirk.

As Grapes wandered around she noticed a familiar face with another familiar face in tow. The brightly hued Spitfire of the Wonderbolts walked over with the equally brightly coloured Firestormer right beside her.

“Didn’t expect to see you at our little shindig, Spitfire. Taking a break from your busy holiday schedule?” Grapes asked.

“Yeah. Thought I’d visit mister hottie, here, and ended up sending the day with him,” she replied. “He’s SUCH a good listener.”

“You do realise that’s mainly because his jaw is wired shut, right?” Grapes quipped with a smirk.

“Let me have my delusions.”

Firestormer managed a smile and despite the braces-like setup inside of his mouth he seemed to be conveying he was having a decent time.

“Of course his hardware there means he’s limited to what he can and can’t eat. Mostly smoothies, boy he’s gonna lose weight,” Spitfire observed. “We’ve had more than one Wonderbolt have to have the same thing done after a severe faceplant. Hope this isn’t gonna hurt his job any.”

“Well he’s a conflagratory weather pattern expert, not a stunt flier. Though I’ll be sure to have plenty of nice, solid, filling food waiting for his jaw to be unwired, so he can get back up to a good flying weight,” Grapes said with a smirk. “Never mind him celebrating being off the smoothie diet.”

“That’s good. While most girls I know like a guy lean and mean, it’s usually sad when they start getting ribsey on you.”

“Emaciation is never a good look,” Grapes agreed, with a nod, her deely bobber… well… bobbing.

Firestormer’s eyes bounced along with the little bobbing light and he snickered behind his metal-laced grin. It was hard to say where Spitfire’s eyes were behind those aviator’s glasses but she seemed unphased by the obvious distraction.

“Tell me about it. Still, I notice he’s got an apprentice right now.” Spitfire’s voice dropped low and quiet as she leaned in closer to Grapes. “Be very careful with Friendly Fire. He’s a good kid but… things happen around him.”

“I’ve been warned,” Grapes deadpanned.

“Yeah. The damage to the Dizzitron… and the damage it caused when it came loose from it’s moorings, was really… it wasn’t his fault and yet it was. Do you know what I’m saying?” She stopped, pressed her hoof to the bridge of her nose and sighed. “Sorry. I’m not saying he’s a walking disaster but for some reason when he’s around, his own side suffers.”

“I appreciate the warning, Spitfire. I’ll be sure to keep an eye on him,” Grapes said with a sigh.

“Thanks. I do mean it when I say he’s a good kid. Strong military upbringing, level head on his shoulders most of the time. Maybe this is his big shot to make his old mare proud.”

“We’ll see. Hopefully we won’t have any eldritch abominations at the morning festivities, this year,” Grapes said, as she trotted off to find the others. “Seriously we could do with some relative normalicy for a while.”

----------------------------

The balmy days of spring had given over to the more sultry days of summer, and with the change of season came the plumping of the grapes, and the harvesting of the Sun’s Spring Glory. Even though the Storm Riders were fantastic workers, there was quite a lot of work, even for them. So Grapes put up the notice, and hired on some extra hooves.

She noticed one very different change this time. Instead of strictly earth pony prospects showing up on her doorstep this time she was seeing a wider variety of ponies. Yes, most were earth ponies but there were some pegasi and even a few unicorns in the mix. No doubt the presence of the Storm Riders had caused stories of her being an equal-opportunity employer to spread. Not that she was going to complain. She saw some ponies who were probably doing this out of curiosity, some because they did serious work, some who were doing summer jobs because they were TOLD to and then… there were an obviously married unicorn couple who looked like life had very recently forced them to take whatever work they could.

She shook off the wave of sympathy she felt looking at those two and forced herself to do her “Welcome to MY vineyard” speech. She did notice that when she hadn’t been looking, her “permanent” residents had quietly slipped into the lineup. No doubt they didn’t want it to look like there was any favoritism, clever ponies they were. Even Dusty and Thistledown were in there.

Grapes paced in front of them, for a moment, then spotted Redline standing off to the side, looking at the unicorn couple. She looked from the inventor to the couple, and back, then turned to him.

“Redline, do you know these ponies?” she asked, curiously.

The look on his face was unusually stern and focused. She could see his gaze met by each of the two unicorns in turn. The colonial blue stallion with a white mane, and the white mare with a shockingly red mane each stared at him as if desperate to say something, anything in that moment. Redline however spoke first in a clear voice with a definite edge to it.

“I thought I knew those two, Miss Grapes. I honestly did, but it seems I was mistaken,” he turned his back on them and began to walk away. “It turns out I don’t know them at all.”

Sour Grapes heard a soft muffled sob from the mare as the stallion hugged her close. She wasn’t certain who it was but one of the ponies present muttered “Woah… harsh.” Grapes had to agree, but it was something she had to deal with later.

“Alright, everypony, some of you may have to share. Our obvious couple would make things easier, of course, but anypony who doesn’t mind having a bunkmate find somepony tolerable,” Grapes said. “Most of you will be starting on those fully ripe rows, there. The bright red grapes already have a work detail assigned. You are being paid by the weight, not by the hour, unless you’re on latrine duty, because I don’t put fertilizer on the scales. I will be supervising, and making sure you do not overwork, or get overheated. Any questions?”

Nopony seemed to have any additional questions. Grapes set them to work, assigning the Storm Riders to the Sun’s Spring Glory. Well most of them. Queenie got back to her usual job of deseeding and destemming.

“Say, Queenie? I hope you don’t mind being saddled with a helper,” Grapes said, casually pushing Dusty in on the cart he’d been using to get around the fields. Dusty was shaking his head, and waving his good right forehoof in an effort to try and dissuade her, but was quite unsuccessful.

“What? Oh. Him,” she said flatly before sighing. “Well, beggars cannot be choosers, and those who wish to be employed cannot argue with their employer’s wishes. Am I correct?”

“Well he’s done a lot of other things, honestly. He’s already got all the bottles labeled, for the next ten batches of wine… I ran out of bottles, and I won’t need any more until those are used. Then he’s taken care of the pruning for all the rows, and even my garden plants, planted the watermelon for the Summer Sunrise wine, harvested some lighter things around the vineyard. But if you wouldn’t feel comfortable with him in here, he could just be hanging out,” Grapes explained.

“But if I don’t work I don’t get paid, and I can’t send any bits to those nice ponies that helped me out,” Dusty said quietly.

“Have you been saving anything?” Grapes asked exasperated.

“A little,” Dusty said looking meek.

“But you’ve been sending most of… Dusty,” Grapes groaned.

“Just trying to do the right thing,” Dusty uttered, looking mullish.

“Please. I beg you. Try to stand him, so I don’t wring his neck,” Grapes uttered, leaving him there, and stalking out begging Celestia to save her from the stupidly generous.

“Well… That would be one way to get rid of me, but I don’t think the courts would see it as justifiable equicide,” Dusty joked weakly.

“Fine,” Queenie said, getting behind the cart and pushing Dusty towards the deseeding shed. “This way to the Emerald City, Scarecrow. Let’s hope we can get you a brain soon.”

“I know, right? Brainless antics only amuse for the first five minutes. Then they get grating,” Dusty observed with a chuckle. He then sat up, and looked at the work surface intently. “All right. Teach me, o mistress of the deseeding shed. I await your wisdom and guidance.”

“It’s simple enough. With the added advantage of a horn you should be able to pick it up rather quickly,” Queenie admitted.

“I shall watch and learn, so I may do a good job,” Dusty said, watching as she plucked a bunch of grapes, and deftly destemmed them, and efficiently deseeded them. He blinked, then looked at her then looked at the finished product. “Whoa. You’re good.”

"I have a great deal of practice in wielding a blade. You remember meeting my mother back at the manse? She would be mortified if I couldn't prepare foodstuffs in any capacity."

"Your... The cook is your Mom?" Dusty asked, remembering the last good night he had at Avalanche Valley.

“Well don’t sound too surprised. My family has a long tradition of… public service. And in the valley, everypony pulls their weight.”

“‘The greatest of distinctions is service to others’,” Dusty quoted, smiling in reminiscence.

"Well... yes. Yes it certainly is." Queenie said with a slight blush. "So where did you learn that?"

"Oh, I met this rather smart mare at a winter sports event. I found her to be as wise as she was beautiful," Dusty said with a half-smile.

"Funny... All I met at one of those was a charming young stallion with a good heart."

"That's a combo that can be hard to find, nowadays," Dusty observed picking up a bunch of grapes, and carefully copied Queenie’s destemming and deseeding technique somewhat slower than she did it. "A lot of the charming ones either have dark hearts, or at least moderately naughty."

"I can live with naughty, if it were playfully so... It's the dark hearts that would frighten me. Far too many selfish, cruel souls in the world today. "

“I know,” Dusty said quietly. "I've always tried not to be one.”

Queenie was silent a moment before coughing awkwardly.

“Yes. Well, let’s see how you do with the deseeding process. I find it rather relaxing to do a repetitive and fairly easy task such as this. It lets one have time to think of other things.”

“Not a bad thing,” Dusty said as he moved on to the next bunch. “I’m sure it’ll take me a while to attain to your level of flair, but I’ll work at it.”

“Good. Oh.. One more thing,” she said moving to the back of the shed and pulling a drop cloth off of a gramophone. “I hope you don’t mind but I enjoy a little music while working. Helps build a rhythm.”

Dusty grinned and nodded. “I think I’d work better to music, anyway,” he said chuckling. “After all music is a big part of what I do on the slopes.”

“Oh yes, silly me to forget. Now let me see,” she muttered flipping through an assortment of vinyl records before selecting one and setting it on the turntable. She gave the handle a crank and a moment later some surprisingly lively swing began to play. “Ah, there we go. Keeps the mood refreshingly light.”

“Nice,” Dusty observed, then began to work, his knife in rhythm with the music.

“There you go. Let the music guide your pace, If you feel rushed then don’t go by every beat but rather every other beat,” Queenie instructed.

“I think I can handle it,” Dusty said, distractedly, as he worked, seeming to go into a meditative state, his work speeding up slightly.

It was easy to get into the swing of things. the shed was small but cozy and cut out outside distractions. The music had a decent pace to it and the company… once she was in the groove, as it were, her body subtly bounced to the beat of the record. Funny, he had never thought what sort of music she might be into before but now that he saw her like this, swing actually seemed to suit her. He smiled a bit, deciding to check the local music store. There may be some things he liked that she may, too. One never could tell. He often lamented the lack of a truly portable music system. That would be one way to while away the hours spent traveling. Or at least block out all the bloody distractions of ponies chattering away while he tried to read. Dusty then paused. Something was starting to feel wrong, somehow.

Dusty looked over at Queenie, looking at her, with some concern. “Queenie? Do you feel like something’s… off?”

The blonde mare glanced over at him, then opened a cupboard and pulled out a large glass jug filled with ice water. She gave it a swirl and frowned at the way the ice sank to the bottom of the jug.

“You… you feel it too?”

“Yeah. Kind of like that feeling I get when I just know a run is going to go bad,” Dusty said shaking his head. “You feel something similar?”

“Yes. Summer Squall says that when you specialise with a certain… element of nature as we do in the Storm Riders, it gets under your skin. You begin to get attuned to it in a way most other ponies never bother to achieve,” She put the jug down and looked out the window. “I can feel something going… wrong in mine.”

“This is kind of distracting…” Dusty murmured. “Look, I know I may not be the sharpest tool in the shed, but isn’t ice supposed to float in water?”

“It’s supposed to. Something is truly wrong, and it seems to be affecting the world on the level of it’s natural laws.”

“This does not bode well,” Dusty said quietly. “So… What should we do to be ready for this storm?” The blonde stallion, eased himself off the cart, standing up with a small wince of pain, and a lot of clicking of gears and gyros. He turned to her, a determined expression on his face, ready to receive instructions.

“Well… we need to get everypony together on this,” she said taking her mane-net off followed by the smock. She then glanced down at the new clockwork brace that ran up and down his leg. “Are you comfortable enough with your new leg-brace to do this?”

“I’m fine. It’s not as bad as the other brace,” Dusty asserted.

“Ah yes. Getting all those pins removed must have been excruciating. Especially with Dr. Coldhoof doing it… efficient yes but the comfort he provides is the cold variety.” She coughed into her hoof and opened the door to the shed. “After you. Gather as many of the others as you can and we’ll rendezvous at the bunkhouse and prepare as best we can.”

“Will do,” Dusty said, limping out. He turned back to her, giving her a rather soulful look. “Be careful, and… watch what you say. There’s something about this… Feels like what you say could go horribly wrong, if you let it.”

A confused look flickered across her face before she nodded to him and took flight towards the fields where the farmhooves were. Soon they were all gathered by the bunkhouse, Grapes at the head of the group, she looking as disquieted as the rest.

“All right. We’re all getting a feeling of foreboding, I take it?” Grapes asked, looking at everypony there. “A feeling that something isn’t ‘right’ in the world, and we’re about to be smacked in the face with it?”

“Aye, lass,” Summer Squall said from his rocking chair. “There’s something wrong with the tides. I can feel it in me blood.”

The other ponies around the room, even the ones who didn’t know Squall that well at least recognised a pony who knew what he was talking about. Sirocco held up an hourglass and tapped the side.

“Something has awoken, Sour Grapes. Something strange. Never before have I seen sand in an hourglass flow both ways at the same time.”

“There are black flames in the fireplace.” Firestormer stated, sounding almost angry. “Even with chemicals or magic I’ve never seen THAT before.”

Stormfront rose up and held up a large pink fluffy glob for all to see.

“I felt something wrong in the wind so I went up to take a look…” He took a bite out of it and chewed thoughtfully. “Clouds should REMIND us of cotton candy… not actually be MADE of it.”

“Okay then… Things are chaotic… Chaotic? Wait…” Grapes said frowning, scuffing a hoof on the floor, and feeling something there, as well. “Chaotic… I remember reading something about chaos. Before the Nightmare Moon Insurrection, but after the founding of Equestria. Brace yourselves, everypony, it’s only going to get…”

There was a faint whimper off by the front door. All heads turned to see Earshot staring out the open door at the landscape beyond, his ears lowered into the “I am SO freaked out right now” position.

“Earshot? What’s going on, what do you hear?” Grapes asked, concerned.

“I just heard somepony… someONE laughing…” he said quietly. “And they had an ‘under-tone’.”

Grapes was immediately on guard. She had heard Earshot speak of ‘Under-tones’ before. Where when inherently magical beings like Princess Celestia spoke, to him they sounded like they had a strange “background noise”. (in her case he described it as sounding like picnics on the beach, and dancing through tall grass on a hot summer day ) If this pony… no, he didn’t even use the word pony. He referred to this laugh as coming from a someONE. That was a big-old warning bell right there.

“What does this being sound like?” Grapes asked, frowning.

“It… He sounds like… like…” Everypony in the room was silent when Earshot turned his head back to look up at Sour Grapes. His golden eyes wide in fear and astonishment. “...EVERYTHING.”

There was a low rumble outside as if to punctuate Earshot’s statement with a little drama. Rain began to fall and everyone seemed to relax a little until Dusty noticed a little detail about the rain hitting the windows.

Dusty frowned, then limped closer. “Brown? Why is the rain brown?” he asked, curiously, stocking his head out from under the porch. He ducked back under, drenched in what-ever the clouds were raining, and licked his lips. “Chocolate. Hey, Storm Rider dudes? Have you ever had chocolate rain, before?”

The group all looked at one another before all eyes turned to Summer Squall, the pony who probably had the “Been there done that” T-Shirt somewhere in his closet. He tasted the rain, then thought about it a moment before shaking his head.

“Never. I’ve seen weather patterns pick up strange things before including the flaming-manure storm of ‘75, lad, but never honest to goodness chocolate milk before.”

“Suggestions, Storm Riders?” Grapes asked, looking around at everypony there.

They all looked at one another a moment before Sirocco spoke in an almost apologetic manner.

“We tell Twilight Sparkle? I am sorry, but she has direct contact with Princess Celestia. If anypony should be informed, it should be her.”

“If they’ve noticed everything we have, I’m sure that she’s already been made aware of the situation, and has been in contact with Princess Celestia,” Grapes said with a slight smile. “The suggestions I was looking for was how to ‘batten down the hatches’ so to speak, so we can weather this fairly intact.”

“Uh… Be careful what you may say?” Dusty suggested. “I told this to Queenie, but… something in the air feels like it’s just waiting for us to say the wrong thing so it can be twisted to its own ends.”

“This from all the times you’ve dealt with agents, Dusty?” Grapes asked with a smirk.

“What can I say? Good agents are like… like humans. Mythical beings that you only hear about but have never seen for yourself,” he replied with a sheepish grin.

“Best I can suggest is… try to somehow minimize the damage as best you can. This can be written off as a bad year, and I do have some bits saved up in chase of a stormy season, so to speak, and hopefully… Well… we’ll see if the wine in the aging caves makes it through this catastrophe,” Grapes said with authority. “If you new folks would rather go home, and help your families deal with this latest threat as best as you can, I won’t stand in your way. And no, staying on won’t earn you double pay.”

This of course earned some sour looks from the ones that were being forced into the summer work, but Grapes was quick to return the sour looks.

“Look, I’m not made of money, and you very obviously don’t want to be here. So go home, and be with your families,” Grapes said sternly. “And hope our undersung heroes can save the day.” Some of the temps nodded, and left. The older unicorn couple just looked at each other sadly, and stayed on, along with some others. Grapes sighed. “Honestly, I think it’d be safer if you guys went into the ‘Friendship Shelter’, I’ll explain why we call it that later. The Storm Riders are trained professionals. You guys, to be frank, aren’t. There’s food and drink down there. So just hang out, down there, until Twilight and her pals can fix this mess.”

The temps who stayed all nodded, and went downstairs, murmuring quietly as they went.

Dusty turned and looked at Queenie, since she seemed to be the “boss” of the department in which he was currently working. She stared back at him for a moment before sighing.

“Right, right. Ah... Sour Grapes is right about ‘Battening down the Hatches’.” She said with as much authority as she could muster. “We must do a quick run around the property to be certain everything has been tied down, covered over or locked up. The standard twister drill.”

“Right… Maybe I should just… go into the shelter too,” Dusty said with a heavy sigh, after taking a long look at his braced leg, obviously hating the feel of being useless. “Not exactly going to ‘run around’ the vineyard, like this.”

“Oh you won’t get off that easily, Dusty.” Queeny chided giving him a push from behind. “You will go from room to room in the Bunkhouse and main house to be certain every window is shut and every shutter barred. You’re limited, not infirm.”

“GUH! As you wish, ma’am,” Dusty uttered, after being pushed, and quickly keeping himself from falling on his face. He glared at her retreating back, briefly, before going upstairs to take care of his assignment.

Queenie stepped outside and almost felt bad for giving Dusty such a good shove like that. But then again he was getting into a self-pitying mood and that wasn’t about to help anypony. Truth be told she hated when others did that in a crisis. She suspected she could get fairly self-pitying at times but she at least TRIED to have some dignity when doing it. At least making Dusty know he could still contribute would let him feel less… less like a disaster.

She sighed and headed over to the eastern field. She KNEW he wasn’t that bad of a guy, but she wanted to stay mad at him for contributing to what was now known as the “Ponythirst Fiasco”. It would make it easier for her to go through with “Plan B”, AKA: marrying into money. The last thing she needed was to be reminded how a troublesome bundle of powder trash was one of the kindest, nicest, handsomest most gentleponyish stallions she had ever met.

But… she had a kingdom to think of… or actually a duchy, but that was just semantics. They desperately needed money and she might be their only way of getting enough of it to get out from under their cloud of debt. Queenie deliberately *BONKED* her head against the side of one of the frames in frustration.

“Why isn’t there ever an easy way out of these things?”

“Why indeed?” said a voice from the ether. It was masculine, but not particularly deep. “Though, your solution is close at hoof, but you keep the poor boy at leg’s length.”

Queenie turned around scanning the area for some manner of source.

“Pardon me? Is somepony there?”

“Well… some PONY isn’t here… I’m afraid you’ll have to settle for little old me,” came that rather urbane voice, again, its accent sounding rather cultured, yet mischievous.

“Would you… kindly show yourself?” she asked cautiously, a little wary at making any sort of demand to voices in the air. “I’m a little at a loss to speak to voices without faces.”

“Can’t have anypony thinking you mad, now can we,” chuckled the voice, and before her floated a small… something. It had a long, snake-like body, with an eagle’s claw and a lion’s paw as forelimbs, the head of… she guessed a pony, but with one large fang, and a mismatched horns: One from a deer, and one she thought possibly from a goat. “Now, my dear, you seem to be in a conundrum. I’m not normally known for helping those in need, quite the opposite, actually, but… well, it can’t be said I don’t relish a challenge.”

“Oh my,” she murmured, looking the being, that was before her, over. Fortunately, years of good manners guided her tongue without her thinking of it. “You’re perhaps the most… unique individual I’ve had the pleasure of meeting. And yes… yes I am in somewhat of a… as you put it… a conundrum.”

“And you were wanting an easy way out of it?” he asked, giving her a sly look.

“Don’t we all? One simply cannot ‘wish’ such things as a region-wide debt away. Such things take planning, effort, hard work… and even suffering.” She giggled nervously before becoming more serious. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be burdening a completely strange… uh… TOTAL STRANGER with my problems.”

“Planning, effort, hard work, and suffering. Eugh… Such egregious self-sacrifice, and practicality. What if you could, perhaps, wish away your debt? Well, it couldn’t be wished away completely. There would need to be hard work and suffering, but not on the part of your poor countryponies...”

“An interesting thought. However I’ve looked it over and short of my meeting somepony who had, if you’ll pardon the vulgarity, ‘Money coming out the wazoo’ then my citizens would be continuing with a long slow crawl out of our debit.”

“Oh, you don’t have to meet somepony who has money coming out the wazoo, my dear,” the being said, with a malicious smirk, and a snap of his fingers. “Because that pony is now you. Ta ta!” And with that the creature disappeared.

The blonde pegasus stood there staring at the spot where the creature had been just a moment ago. Something about this left her with a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach, or maybe it was the bran muffin she had with her breakfast. She blinked and shook it off, returning to her duties around the farm, hoping whatever just transpired wasn’t about to come back and bite her in the butt. As she went on trying to do her part her stomach gave a lurch, and gave off an ominous gurgle...

Dusty had finished latching the storm shutters, and closing the windows of both the bunkhouse the main farmhouse. The activity had been rather a lot after being practically an invalid, but so far the new brace was helping him move much better than the other one that was there merely to keep his leg from slipping out of alignment. Even so, it was quite heavy to lug around. Once it was off, he was going to have work to get his muscles balanced again… Or would he? Doctor Coldhoof said that the clockwork brace was designed to help him regain the strength in his formerly broken leg.

The blonde unicorn stood on the porch, looking around at the vineyard, wondering what could be causing all the problems. None of this made any sense. Cotton candy clouds that rained chocolate, woodland critters sprouting legs like deer and running around like crazy. Ballet dancing buffalo. That last one caused Dusty to pause and do a double-take. Yup. It was a ballet dancing buffalo. Pink tutu and everything.

“Now I’ve seen everything,” Dusty uttered.

“Have you really?” asked a mischievous voice, causing Dusty to turn toward it with a start. Before him was a creature that could be described as a mish-mash of different animals, because calling such a thing a chimera would confuse ponies who were talking about the actual animal. Yes, there are chimeras. yes they are made up of the unholy merging of feline, caprinæ, and serpent.

“Okay. NOW I’ve seen everything. So you’re behind all this… chaos?” Dusty asked.

“Indeed I am! Some of my finest work, if I do say so myself,” the creature laughed, leaning on Dusty in an almost debonair pose. “Your friends, here, have proven to be almost as amusing as Princess Celestia’s precious champions. Who knew listening to a pony’s deepest desires could be the cause of so much chaos in and of itself?”

“You won’t get any such amusement out of me. I’m good. Thanks,” Dusty said, his voice losing his Coltifornia drawl, and taking on an almost Canterlotian air.

“Oh COME now, there has to be desires lurking in that passionate heart of yours,” the creature said dramatically, then reached into Dusty’s ear. “I know your list of mere wants is at least three miles long.” With that, the amalgam pulled a list right out of Dusty’s ear.

“Wanting something is just that. Wanting something. It doesn’t mean I want it to be granted to me by some… stranger,” Dusty said, keeping his voice neutral.

“Oh come now, where’s the fun in that? Now let’s see… Stay out of the hooves of overbearing grandmother. Achieve success, despite overbearing grandmother. Oh, and here’s a doozy! To have the forgiveness of that wonderful filly you met at the Extreme Winter Sports Extravaganza!”

“The first two, I would rather do for myself,” Dusty said, still in that stern, almost Canterlotian tone. “The last is not up to me. If she forgives me or not, that is Queenie’s decision to make, not mine. I make no wishes, I beg no boons, I ask no favors. Especially from one such as you.”

“Fine then. This was getting dull, anyway,” the creature huffed, and disappeared in a flash of light...

With a great heave, Summer Squall forced the doors to the barn shut and slid the heavy bolt into place. He took a moment to recover his breath. It bothered him that he was starting to feel his age now. Every day he felt some old injury complaining to him, or some new ache that he never felt before. As spry as he was for a fellow his age, he had trouble facing the truth that he wasn’t getting any younger.

Mopping his brow with his hooferchief he turned and found himself eye-to-eye with a face that was both unknown and yet strangely familiar at the same time. Something he and a crew faced once on a dark isle with fiercely tribal ponies that worshipped a strange figure.

“What’s the matter, Captain Squall? Feeling your age, my little pony? I think I can… help with that. And what delightful chaos it will cause, too.”

“You…. I know you. On the island of Bedlam they worshipped that face in their temples,” Squall drew himself up as best he could, puffing his chest out in challenge. “They called you the spirit of anarchy, the god of chaos… Discord given form.”

“Oh my my, you’ve guessed my moniker! And worshippers? Really? How droll. Perhaps I’ll visit them to see just how they handle the real thing, as opposed to idle idols. And as a reward, my dear captain… Something about that just sounds… deliciously familiar when I say that… Hmmm… Well my dear captain, your youth was MISspent, let us see how well you manage it a second time,” Discord declared, snapping his fingers with a malicious grin.

Squall felt his heart lurch in his chest, along with more than half of his other bodily organs. Fear struck him in the moment he realised that he had no idea what was happening to him. He only knew one thing, that he had to warn the others. No matter what happened next he had to somehow give Sour Grapes and his teammates the information as to what was causing all of this chaos…

Sour Grapes was trotting around, trying to contain the situation as best she could. This… this was not going to be a good year at all. She hated when things became chaotic. It just irked her to no end. She wasn’t as great a fanatic about organization as Twilight could be, but farm life demanded enough order to offset the chaos that often came from working with natural elements.

The landscape was changing in ways that went far past the visual. As much as checkerboard fields and floating islands of real estate disturbed her she could feel this “imbalance” penetrating deep into the world itself.

The pungent stink of burning vegetation caught her attention. Rushing to it’s source she found what looked like a long trail of smoldering ash starting from near her frames . What possibly could have caused such intense heat that it incinerated everything to the point there was almost nothing left to sustain the fire? Her hoof then struck something metallic, and she looked down. At first it looked like just a piece of half-melted metal laying in the ash. She then nudged it with her hoof and in the twisted alloy structure she saw a familiar shape. It looked a lot like the metal headwear that helped Firestormer with his cosmetic surgery.

“Oh bother… I have a bad feeling about this.. But then what else is new? I’ve been having a bad feeling about everything, today,” Grapes uttered, as she continued to follow the trail.

As she grew closer to the end of the trail she could now hear a terrible screaming. Not one of agony but of a deep-seated terror. Cresting the hill overlooking the pond she looked down and saw Firestormer. At least she was mostly certain it was him. A pony of heat, flame and light staggered unsteadily across the landscape. Each step causing soil to melt beneath his hooves as he seemed to be trying to find his way to the lake. What was probably his head turned to look up at her a pair of holes in the flickering mass indicating where his eyes must be.

“GRAPES!” He called out, his voice sounding as if he were speaking through a fan. “Keep back! I can’t stop it… I can’t stop burning!”

“That’s because you’ve been turned into a being of living flame, Firestormer. If you dunk yourself in the pond you’ll… Let’s just say your fire will go out in the most permanent way possible,” Grapes uttered. “Now, I know you usually keep a cool head when there’s a conflagration, so show me what you’ve got, Storm Rider! Use that brain of yours!”

It… He looked back at the pond then at the swath of destruction he had already caused. Even though there wasn’t much of a face to read she could tell he was doing the mental calculations of whether snuffing himself out was a better option than being a living threat to all life around him.

“Don’t take the expedient way out, either,” Grapes ordered. “You can, and will, get through this with the help of your friends, just like always. Assume that this condition is only temporary. I imagine actually dying will be much more permanent, even if everything else reverts to normal.”

“Yes… yes.. of course. You’re right as always….” he groaned. “I need… containment… somewhere to be where I won’t… won’t hurt anypony else. Somewhere without anything flammable.”

“I can’t believe you forgot about the barbeque,” Grapes uttered. “Considering you were roasting potatoes and marshmallows on it, Long Dark. Goes to show you that panicking is never a good way to solve any problems, hm?”

“You don’t know… how much this scares me,” he said starting to head in the direction of the barbecue. “All my life, ever since that day, I’ve been trying to beat my fears. You helped me past my fear of failing my friends, my guilt for what I did to my family… but fire… fire always has that special place in my head. When he asked if I would do anything to overcome it , is it any wonder I said yes?”

“Oh… great… something’s going around granting wishes? Wonderful… FRIENDLY!” she yelled. “FRIENDLY FIRE, where are you?! Argh.. Something just waiting on us to say the wrong thing and twist it to their whim. You remember that being said, right? Geeze, WHY can’t ponies read stories about wish-granters properly?!”

“Coming, Ma’am! On my way!” came the earnest voice of Friendly Fire, she saw his blue form rise above the treeline before he stopped and hovered over the area, watching Firestormer. “Oh… my… land. What is… wait… Firestormer?”

“Would you be a sweetheart, and take the metal grate off the barbeque, and make sure nothing flammable is inside it, please? Firestormer, here, ran afoul a wish-granter,” Grapes explained.

“Yes Ma’am! Right away!” he said with a smart salute and a flap of his wings that sent him in in the right direction.

“Come on, Firestormer. Don’t mind the plants. Plants are replaceable. Ponies are not,” Grapes said, as she escorted him to the barbeque. She could understand why he had considered self-snuffing, even at the “safe” distance she was keeping she swore she could feel her hair curling from the sheer heat rolling off of him. “Here we are. Hop in, and you should be nicely contained.”

“Thank… thank you Grapes.” Firestormer said, entering the brick and steel structure. The ceramic walls were built well-enough to take the heat of using it as a makeshift forge at times, and the ground around it had been cleared of all flammable items long-ago, and covered with a thick layer of sand and gravel. She suspected he may reduce some of it to a layer of molten glass but at least any further damage would be curtailed.

“Well, Friendly, you appear to have escaped unscathed. Have you met the instigator of this little fiasco?” Grapes inquired.

“Hard to say, Ma’am.” The blue pegasus said as he stomped out the still burning bits of Firestormer’s trail. “I was trying to get this morning’s harvest into the deseeding shed where I thought it’d be safe when a little bird began talking to me… in a big voice.”

“Uh huh. I take it you didn’t quite trust what the little bird with the big voice said?” Grapes asked

“Well… uh. It suggested that maybe my life hadn’t turned out as I planned, Ma’am. That I had wanted so bad to be in the military like my Mom and Dad, and all their moms and dads before them, and somehow things just never… worked out for me.. The way he said it, I felt like he was offering something.”

“But, somehow, you knew that accepting it could turn out to be a monkey’s paw, I take it?” Grapes asked.

“Yes, Ma’am. I’ll be honest, I probably could have gotten what I wanted any number of easy ways. My family has enough money I could have slipped the right ponies a bribe, or bought a few spells to make me better. Maybe I could have banked on just on my family name alone, but I wanted to be recognised for my own merits instead of being a ring-knocker.”

“Could somepony explain the whole ‘monkey’s paw’ thing?” Firestormer asked.

Grapes cleared her throat and took a deep breath:

“Look, there are two types of stories about wishes coming true. Wish fulfillment stories, and stories about wishes being granted. Wish fulfillment stories are puerile little fantasies where one's every desire is achieved with little to no effort. A wish-granter story is a story where a powerful magic being or object grants a pony's wishes. These are usually parables about trying to find a way out of the hard work one needs to achieve one's goals, the evils of greed for greed's sake, or trying to hammer home the lesson that everything comes at a price,” Grapes explained.

“The wishes are granted one of four ways. First is idiot interpreter. The pony gets exactly what they wished for to the letter. This is usually done by either a wish-granter who is ignorant of the language or idioms being used or when the wish-maker is using slang. The second is malicious literalism. Kind of like the first but the granter knows exactly what the maker wants, and decides to be literal anyway, because it is of a malicious nature. Next is malicious figurativism, the opposite of malicious literalism. The wish-granter is deliberately twisting the wish-maker's words to the most malevolent way possible. The last is ‘give the wish-maker what they want but at the great cost to somebody the wish-maker cares about, or knows’. This one is usually used with the wish-granting artifact. The most famous story about such a thing involving a monkey's paw,” Grapes finished explaining, displaying her rather dangerous amount of genre savvy.

“And here I thought the offer was just not sitting well in my stomach,” Friendly added, rubbing his belly. “My Mom always told me to pay attention to my instincts when they were trying to tell me something.”

“You knew that being granted your wish would mean somepony would probably have to suffer, usually the pony in the position you were wanting,” Grapes said with a smile. “Most times, the wish, as offered by the wish-granter, is a booby trap and only offered in limited quantity. Once the wishes have run out, then wish-maker has to deal with the consequences of their actions. All right. You good for now, Firestormer? I’d offer you reading material, but you’d burn or melt anything I give you.”

“I’ll… keep.” he sighed, the dark pits that were his eyes turning to the increasingly bizarre horizon. “Besides, things look like they’re getting more interesting by the moment.”

“Yeah. And ‘may you live in interesting times’ is an old Chineighs curse,” Grapes uttered, heading back toward the farm. “C’mon, Friendly, let’s assess damages, and try and find the others.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” Friendly said, then

“I’ve been thinking, Ma’am. We need to establish a perimeter. A clear area that we can easily confirm any changes at a moment’s notice,” Friendly advised. “I know this isn’t a fort or a military base but the more we know about our surroundings, the less we’ll have to worry about.”

“It’s called a property line, Friendly,” Grapes said, simply. “There’s already a perimeter. It’s called a fence. Honestly, it’s been my home ever since I was born. So I should know what’s been changed.”

“Yes, Ma’am. But I was just meaning we should confirm that’s the distance we all agree on as being what we watch the most for trouble. I’m getting the feeling that the way things are hitting the fan today that it could pop up at any time and any place.” Friendly stepped past the barn’s corner and with a resounding *POW!* was sent sprawling to the ground.

A sea-green pony stepped out, forehooves raised in challenge and a face bearing a wild expression that said he was more interested in fighting than talking. His eyes turned on Sour Grapes and he took a step forwards, his intent very clear.

“Now now, none of that,” Grapes uttered, throwing a shield around the pugilistic pegasus, and getting a close look at him. “Wait… you look just like, oh. Just wonderful… they got you too, Squall.” she uttered sounding less than pleased.

“I’ll beat you both apart!” The young stallion said, hammering against the shield. “I’ll take you both together!”

Grapes effortlessly lifted the now young Summer Squall, and slowly brought the walls in around him to stop his antics. “You will note how… effortlessly I’m lifting you, and now holding you in place. I suggest you calm down, before I start to squeeze some civility into you.”

“Who are you? Are we enemies? Why am I in the air? Where’s the Buttercup?”

Sour Grapes blinked looking him over, she had to admit one thing about Summer Squall’s younger self… he was bloody handsome back then. Not that she was feeling all a-flutter about him or anything, but he had that rugged, good-looking Rebel Without A Cause thing going on that would have no doubt drawn mares in by the cartload.

“I am Sour Grapes. That depends on you. I’m exceptionally strong. And I don’t know,” Grapes replied. “Let me explain… no, there is too much. Let me sum up. Apparently some being is going around causing chaos, and being a malicious wish-granter. You are a victim of said wish-granter.”

He grinned a cocky smile and pressed his face against the magical field’s surface. “The name’s ‘Swordless’ Squall, scourge of the seas, and… proud member of the pirate ship Buttercup. Long story there but it’s unimportant. What’s really important is that moments ago my crewmates and I were in the middle of a fight with Princess Sunbutt’s navy and I need to get back. There’s a lot of ‘uniforms’ there that need a good hoof-pressin’.”

“So this is you when you were a pirate, hm? Not quite as ‘proud’ as you say. Your shipmates do some truly scurvy things, and they leave you a tad uneasy?” Grapes asked with a smirk. “You really turned yourself around from this rebel without a clue, didn’t you?”

“Turned meself around? What are you gettin’ at? And sure I’m proud… very… proud. We’re all wanted by the authorities of twelve coasts. Nearly any ship that sees us either runs or gives up. Me own bounty is over Five THOUSAND bits. I’m worth that much.” he trailed off a moment, eyes looking somewhat uncertain of his own words. “I’m worth something, blast it.”

“I notice things, Summer Squall,” Grapes said with a smirk. “Your morality is beginning to kick in, again, isn’t it? The novelty of being a burly bruiser losing its shine. The thought of being wanted by the authorities beginning to weigh upon you, because someday you may want to actually settle down, and you’ll need someplace that will welcome you openly.”

“How… how did you know me name?” He stammered, his face suddenly ashen. “What witchcraft is transpirin’ here?”

“You told me,” Grapes said, poking the shield. “You, Summer Squall, are in the future. And the Squall I know is a vast improvement over you, my fine young scaliwag. Your older self apparently wished for his youth back, and that was exactly what he got. He got taken back to his younger days, when he was still immature and idiotic. Yet another example of how wishes and the creatures who grant them, need to be treated like con artists.”

“Wait. Wait a moment… I… I’m ALIVE long enough to wish I was young again?”

“Oh. Of course. You think you’re going to live fast and die young,and leave a pretty corpse don’t you? Luckily, or unluckily you may think, you do live long enough to be the most experienced pony that I know. Your life is at a crossroads, sailor, and you can choose to be something better than you are, and become the great stallion I’ve come to know… Or you can continue to be a thug, and end up strung up on a gallows,” Grapes said with a shrug. “Your choice.”

“I become… great?” he asked, all the sturm and bluster draining from him.

“Oh yes. You’re given the opportunity to turn your life around. My advice is to grab that opportunity with your jaw, wings, and all four hooves. The pony who gives you the opportunity saw the makings of greatness in you. Now, young Squall, why don’t you show me that you’ve got that spark of greatness. I need a helper with a steady eye, nerves of steel, and gonads of brass to handle this. Think you're up for it, sailor?” Grapes asked with a grin.

He took a moment to take it all in, weighing his options before a slow smile spread across his muzzle.

“Aye. Aye. I’m sure I can be up to it.”

“Good lad,” she said, letting him go. “Now see about rounding up the wildlife, and herding them where they’ll do the least damage. We’re going to find more casualties, and see what we can do to help them out.”

“Yes, ma’am!” the young Squall uttered, saluting… enthusiastically at least.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Stormfront calmly looked up at the patchwork creature before him. The ozone-like smell around him suggested to the pegasus that he was the eye of this particular storm. That and the large throne he sat casually upon as things flickered in and out of existence around him… like the amazingly lifelike rendering of Equestria that he made appear between them with a snap of his fingers.

“So what exactly is it that you’re trying to tell me mister Discord, was it?” Stormfront asked, playing it cool. “I’m not used to working with magic of this scale often.”

“It’s simple really, Stormfront. As you can see from my simiraculum here more is happening than just the local change of scenery. Some of which are Storm-Rider business. Which brings us to a little problem only you can handle.” Discord gestured to the mini-equestria model that showed a green tornado approaching Trottingham. "You have a choice to make Stormfront. You can stay here and rescue your fillyfriend Sour Grapes or..."

"Trottingham."

"Wha... uh. Yes. That is..."

"No. I mean there's no contest. I choose Trottingham."

"Woah. Wait. Are you sure? I mean you only JUST got past the drama around you two dancing around your feelings. Shouldn't you at least take a moment to think about it?"

"You obviously don't know Sour Grapes, Discord. If she needs saving, she'll tell me so. And if there's one thing about her, she'll never be the damsel in distress. Heck... she'll probably fold you up in her Bit-bag and spend you on cheap labour."

"Well... that was completely unexpected." Discord said to himself as he watched Stormfront fly off to Trottingham. "And because of that, YOU get a pass MISTER Stormfront."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was all Grapes could do not to panic when she was finally confronted by the spirit that had been tormenting Equestria, and turning the landscape topsy-turvy. Panicking would do her no good, and she had to keep her wits about her, if this was the creature waiting eagerly to twist her very words. Strangely enough, he just floated beside her as she trotted along. He was, apparently, looking at something off in the distance.

"Well, Miss Sour Grapes, your coltfriend has flown the coop,” he said, finally, in that mischievously cultured voice of his

"Probably a weather emergency perpetrated by you," Grapes observed casually, keeping as calm as she could, having a mix-and-match creature suddenly materialize as she was checking the damage.

"Oh Sour Grapes, such distrust! I'd feel offended if I didn't work hard to earn such a reputation."

"Well, considering you've been perpetrating everything else that's been going wrong, today, why not attribute one more?"

"Hmm. You know you remind me of somepony I knew a long time ago. She didn't have much of a sense of humor either, although her sunny disposition often made up for it."

"I remind you of Princess Celestia?"

"Does that surprise you? Warm to her friends but so absolutely focused on her work. She never fully appreciated my attempts to loosen her up."

"Yes, actually it does. Never expected you to be one to give compliments."

"I give credit where it's due. Sometimes a little TOO freely. Oh that Twilight Sparkle. I'd have thought she would have worked out my riddle by now. It's always the same, sprinkle a few obstacles in the path of your opponents and they forget to keep their eyes on the prize."

"Twilight's problem is that she overthinks things, and will latch onto the most obvious clue before she will get the actual meaning."

"That's the problem with obsessive compulsive types. You ought to see what her friends became because of their own obsessions."

"So instead of twisting their desires, you twisted their personalities? Oh... Of course you did. You had to, so the Elements of Harmony would not work."

"My my my... I wonder how many even suspect that inside that humble agrarian lies a rather substantial piece of gray matter," Discord chortled holding up a brain in one claw to make his point. "Who knows? If things had've been a little different for you might have set the academic world on fire, instead of making sure the nobles finish their broccoli."

"True. But things aren't a little different. And they aren't going to be a little different," Grapes asserted. "I ask you no favors, I beg you no boons, and I make no wishes."

"Spoilsport... You know I COULD just forcibly 'discord' you. Transfigure your essence in reverse. See what Sour Grapes is on the other side of the coin..." he made a gesture with a single digit of his paw implying he could do so with a mere touch. "...But I've already done that trick once today. I try not to make a habit of touching stubborn ponies. "

"And doing the same thing twice would be boring."

“Well it takes all the FUN out of it, you know what I'm saying? While I got impatient once today I'd rather give ponies... well... ANYONE all the rope they want, just to see how much it takes for them to hang themselves."

"Seems like you've been doing quite the good job. If you were an Element of Harmony, you'd be the Element of Surprise."

Discord opened his mouth as if to say something, and yet nothing quite came out. The pose was held for a few seconds before he relaxed and chuckled. "Well played. Stormfront really did have a point when he spoke of you."

"If he said I’m not a damsel in distress, he was right. I can never find one to fit me..."

"Hmm... Tell you what. I've already tossed enough Chaos into the pot, I think it will be interesting just to see how you try to bring a little order while it stews in it's own juices."

"Have fun storming the castle," Grapes deadpanned.

"I just want you to feel you’re doing well. I hate for people to die embarrassed."

“You seem a decent fellow,” Grapes replied, affecting a Trottingham accent. “I hate to die.”

“Oh. Really. I didn’t come here just to be insulted.”

“Where do you normally GO to be insulted?” Grapes asked raising an eyebrow. “Must be absolutely fascinating, if they can do it with style and panache.”

“Ugh. Inconceivable!” Discord huffed, before winking elsewhere.

"He keeps using that word. I don’t think it means what he thinks it means… How in the hay did he know those quotes, though… I saw a statue that looked an awful lot like him in the castle gardens, and… Hm… I’ll have to ask Princess Celestia if they’ve ever had a performance of The Princess Bride in the gardens… This just gets even more confusing. All right. Let's see what we can do... wait..." Grapes uttered, diverting her path to the porch of the bunkhouse where that older unicorn couple sat, holding Moondust close, as they wept.

"Sour Grapes... Thank Celestia you're here," Streamline said upon noticing her. "It's... it's horrible."

"Something happened to Redline, didn't it?"

He nodded and his wife Cherry Red spoke past her sobs. "We saw it all. We were worried about him and Moondust and when we went to check on him we saw it. That beastly fiend was standing over him and he was shielding Moondust from him. Redline knew him by name, pleading for Moondust's life, swearing to do as he wanted if only she were spared..."

Grapes sighed. "Dedicated... So. You're Redline's parents, I take it?"

They nodded and Streamline answered "We're not proud of what we did... but what Redline just did made us realise what we lost in running. He's a better parent to Moondust than we ever were."

"Not sure how you two are going to make it up to him, either. That's between you and Redline... So... Let me guess... He's over there, building something out of a bunch of junk, and was ignoring Moondust?"

"Discord put a funnel in his mouth and poured something from a teapot down his throat." Cherry Red groaned. "He turned gray and he just started building like he was possessed. Then that thing picked up Moondust and handed her over to us and said that 'a bargain’s a bargain’.”

"She would not be harmed... But Redline was... altered."

"It was as if his gift turned inwards." Streamline explained. "His special talent, you probably think it's his creativity, his ability with devices both magical and mundane... but it's not. His ability is to push things to their very limits, often to the breaking point. I think he's being 'redlined' as we speak."

Grapes sighed. "I hope he comes through this, okay..."

The frantic sound of flapping filled the air, as if a pegasus were trying to fly faster than their body would permit. She turned to the sound and saw the sandy brown form of Sirrocco urgently heading her way.

“Miss Grapes! Miss Sour Grapes! We are upon the harms of a dilemma!”

“Should hurt less than the horns,” Grapes uttered, with a small smile.

“You do not understand. There is a sinister force is in Equestria.” Despite being short of breath, she landed gracefully next to Grapes. “There is a D’jinn on the loose.”

“Were you needing a tonic to take care of it?” Grapes asked. “No wait… Sorry… I’m making bad puns as a coping mechanism. I think he’s more of an embodiment of chaos than a genie, Sirocco.”

“It was only my upbringing that gave me any kind of warning to his nature, Sour Grapes. I was raised upon stories of all manner of terrible creatures of myth. The water stealing Dust-Devils, the terrible fiends of the night the Shadow-Raiders and of course the treacherous wish granting D’Jinn.” Sirocco glanced nervously to the left and right as if worried that just mentioning them they may appear. “I tried to wash my tongue around him when he appeared before me.”

“You tried to watch your tongue. Because I doubt you’d want to wash your tongue when chatting with this guy, no matter how much he makes you want to curse,” Grapes said.

“Yes, yes. One should never trust anything any D’jinn say they can grant you.. Whatever they may offer you is all a complete lack of pies.”

“... I think you transposed the letters on that one, Sirocco. It’s supposed to be ‘pack of lies’,” Grapes said.

“I know. I know… when I am upset my language suffers, and this… creature of discord disturbs me greatly. With such creatures, nothing is more dangerous than a half-warmed fish.”

“‘Half-formed wish’, and I know all about that. I’ve read a lot of stories about wish-granting creatures, and objects.”

“You know,” Friendly fire interjected, holding a hoof over his muzzle. “I know I should be taking his seriously but I want to laugh SO badly right now I can taste it.”

“And I imagine you’d be just as linguistically clumsy if you attempted to speak in Siroccos’s native tongue,” Grapes chided.

“That bowel feast came to me and started offering me things, or rather suggesting I should ask for them.”

“Foul beast,” Grapes corrected, casually, getting into the swing of it. “And it’s a good thing you didn’t. I think he enjoys malicious literalism.”

“That would seem to be the case. I should have addressed him in Saddle Arabian instead of Equish. As it was it seemed to be… throwing… him… off?” Sirroco said, slowing down to try to be more accurate in her speech.

“That one you got right,” Grapes said with a nod. “And maybe it’s a good thing you spooning in speenerisms, I means speaking in spoonerisms… Good gravy you’re contagious...”

“That… may be so,” she said sounding surprised by the revelation. “He seemed confused and checked a list. He said something very much like ‘have I already been here?’ before telling me that I was amusing enough to not bother with. I may be picnicking here but should I feel relieved or offended at this?”

“Relieved. Definitely relieved. Firestormer’s in the barbeque, a pony of living flame, Squall’s been… taken back to his misspent youth, Stormy is off saving someplace or another, and Redline’s been redlined. I haven’t seen Dusty, Queenie, or Earshot, and that worries me,” Grapes summarized. “And Friendly Fire seems about as genre savvy as we are.”

“My life’s a mess… but it’s my mess. I’m not letting this ’Discord’ take that away from me.” Friendly stated firmly. “So what do we do, Ma’am? Curse the tomatoes and full speed ahead?”

Grapes could appreciate the obscure reference to the great vegetable riots of ‘21 and gave him a wry smile.

“Indeed, Friendly. And hope that our local heroes can do what they do best,” Grapes replied with a nod.

Author's Note:

Will the Vineyard ever get back to normal? Will everypony recover from the trauma inflicted upon them by the wily lord of Chaos? Will I stop making references to cartoons that most of my readers are probably too young to have even seen?

Tune in next time for "Mirrorballs and Roller Rinks: The second coming of Disco(rd)" or "Everything is gonna turn out O-Chaos."

Comments

[Fresnor]

Oh boy all the references in this chapter. It would probably take a stories worth of typing just to list them all. Favorites are the Q reference and Zilch the Torysteller(or whatever you local spoonerism person is)

[Mal Masque]

Poor Queenie. I can only imagine the sheer... misfortunate pain of it all.
And bonus points for the casual Princess Bride references AGAIN! Bravo, Grapes, bravo.

[SageBrony07]

This was funny. To be honest I wasn't expecting that to happen to Squall. I wonder what he did to the others. I wonder if he discorded Queenie into liking Dusty and Dusty into a stupid noble. Great chapter. Thanks for the update. I hope the next chapter comes up soon.

[Snowfyre]

i think you misspelled dustys name a couple times, i found 3 starting with

“Just trying to do the right thing,” Duty uttered, looking mullish.

the other two were shortly after that

i will say that this chapter is rather amusing, looking forward to the next chapter

[The Incredible Werekitty]

5119868 Thanks for the head's up. Those have been corrected. And nobody's gotten the reference in the Author's note.

[The Incredible Werekitty]

5119314 You didn't read it close enough, Sage. *evil grin* I'll be more overt next chapter.

[moguera]

...my dear captain… Something about that just sounds… deliciously familiar when I say that…

i177.photobucket.com/albums/w220/Davis_Andrews/what-you-did-there-i-see-it.jpg

[SageBrony07]

5120251 Overt??? Really??? We will see, just don't keep us waiting to long. I do admit I love the added romance at the beginning. Great job.

[i_am_the_jam]

Heh, The Princess Bride

[The Incredible Werekitty]

5120278 Good for you! Did you find the other references? There's even one in the Author Note.

[Jasmine Tea]

5121022 dear Ms. Kitty, I don't want to be rude or anything but, your main character is starting to feel like a Mary Sue. Granted, she also reminds me of my best friend so that's a plus in my book. But it might hurt your story.

[The Incredible Werekitty]

5125330 Miss Tea, could you please explain how Grapes is beginning to feel like a Mary Sue?

[Jasmine Tea]

5125495 well, to start off this conversation; In fan fiction, a Mary Sue is an idealized character, often but not necessarily an author insert. of course you can go to Wikipedia and get a hold bunch of things that pertains to that. But back to the main issue. I feel like your characters is always right, always knowing the correct answer for certain things that seems obscure. It's a bit too convenient, don't you think.
and I shouldn't blame you for making your character morally right, but I feel like she's overbearing. I mean, she came from a loving family ( minus her grandparents) and have friends (albeit that took her a while to find them). But here's where the problem starts. She just made friends, so where are all the blunder? You can't expect a person whose antisocial to be all-knowing with friendship. there's going to be mistakes made, but that's part of the friendship. Because we learn from them and we grow as a person. That's what makes a character interesting. Not how she's always right but, how she's wrong.
I would've like to see her actually struggle with her feelings with stormfront. I would've rather had her talk about this with her other friends.
It's okay to have smart characters but, they also need to be flawed too. It makes them more relatable to the readers. as it stands right now, your character is two dimensional.
and if you want more information just click here
I hope your not dishearten on what I said, it can also help if you listen to this.[youtube=I hope your not dishearten on what I said, it can also help if you listen to this]

[Jasmine Tea]

5125495 yeah, sorry about that.

it just goes to show that's what makes me human, or interest case pony.
PS. I bet you a cookie that Queenie and Dusty had a bodies swap.

[The Incredible Werekitty]

5125728 Sorry no cookies for you. No body swap. What happened to Queenie was hinted at, and Dusty was a a bit too genre savvy. And I'll work on that. But I have said, a lot, that Grapes reads, a lot. And her mother was from Canterlot, who had a rather large book collection she brought with her.

Even so... I may have overdone it a bit. But there's still a part two to this, and Grapes' facade of strength can still crumble. Because you know she's probably putting on a strong face for everypony's sake.

[Jasmine Tea]

5125839 yes, but all the time? it's okay to show weakness once in a while, especially when you're all alone. like I said in the last message, you can have a smart character but you got to also have some flaws too. Hack, I like your characters morality but, if she is in challenge on that at times or if something's hindering her, then your character is going to be flat.
so I'm basically telling you to give your character a challenge that she needs to overcome. Something that she really needs to struggle with that she needs her friends help. because the last thing she struggle with was barely brushed on ( I'm talking about her feelings with stormy). like seriously, I saw that coming a mile away and the road trip to that was boring.

[The Incredible Werekitty]

5126436 Thank you for the input. I'll definitely work on it.

[SageBrony07]

After I reread I am even more impressed. Great job with this chapter again. I hope Queenie and RedLine comes out okay. I am also scared for Earshot. Good luck with the next chapter. I think it will be a doosy.

[SageBrony07]

5129407 I do agree with her on that statement. She really challenge to grow during season 2.

[Da Fennec]

Simple answer to last question in the post script NO.

[The Incredible Werekitty]

6452330 You're probably right on all counts. :D

[Whisper Spirit]

Will I stop making references to cartoons that most of my readers are probably too young to have even seen?

I know that's right, but I still feel mildly insulted lol