XI - The Longest Road
The Longest Road
Scootaloo tore through the open air, racing over the treetops of the nearby forest and violently shaking branches in her wake. Her heart beat an intense rhythm. Her wings sliced through the air. Her lungs fueled the never-ending fire burning within.
It had been two days since Rainbow Dash’s party, and her fateful condemnation. Scootaloo was on a mission, and she wasn’t going to slow down anytime soon.
The sun played a reflection off the grass below. A glance discerned a deep score in the earth, the lingering evidence of a tornado’s destruction forgotten in the passing of summer. With a mischievous smile, Scootaloo tilted her wings and shot into the sky. Hooves forward, she broke through a cloud, scattering its vapors. The dispersing puffs shrank below as she continued her ascent. The air around her thinned and cooled.
Letting gravity take its course, she relaxed her wings and gently pulled back into an inverted dive.
She powered downward, beating her wings furiously. The resistance in the atmosphere formed and bent around her. She rolled into a propeller-like spin, eyeing the ground with resolve as it spiraled closer.
Scootaloo spread her wings and landed upon the soft grass, leaving the trademark ring of her hooves. The wind lashed at her backside, but she barely felt it. Determination numbed the pain.
She looked up and grinned wide. Nothing short of vicious could describe the cyclone that whirled a path of destruction through the meadow. Without hesitation, she took flight, following her monstrous creation as it was carried off by the wind.
“Hah! Who’s not good enough now?” she yelled. The tornado let loose with cannonball-sized chunks of dirt, which she dodged effortlessly. A particularly close-flying hunk held her eyes captive as it sailed overhead, but lost its power when she noticed Ponyville sitting directly ahead. Her smile faded. “Uh oh...”
She raced further head of the tornado and spun to face it. “Turn around!” she yelled. “Go that way!” she added, pointing behind the tornado at the Everfree Forest. It didn’t listen. Ponyville steadily grew out the corner of her eye. She looked back at the cyclone with uncertainty before tensing in alarm.
A massive clod of earth struck her square in the face. She fell to the ground in a heap of grass and dirt. Rising to her hooves, she shook her head, spitting away the taste in her mouth. Her vision refocused, and she glared at the cyclone. “Oh no you don’t!” She launched back into the air and charged straight into it.
The world went black. An ear-shattering noise deafened her to thought. The storm lashed dirt in her face, clawing at her eyes. She shielded them with her hooves, but something struck her in the gut, knocking the wind out of her. A gasp for air choked her lungs with dust, and the tornado swept her up in its fury.
It spat her out across the meadow, where she crashed through the branches of the lone elm and fell to the grass. She staggered to her hooves, hacking up what felt like fire in her lungs. The tornado continued its course toward town as she looked on in fear.
Get a hold of yourself! You made it! You can stop it! The tornado passed over a tree, uprooting it and flinging it aside to become nothing more than a speck in the distance. A shiver ran through her like ice water down her back. But how? A moment’s hesitation returned her courage. She sped after her creation.
Dirt rained from above, and the air thickened with a screen of dust, graying the sky. Think think think! Scootaloo rapped her hoof against her forehead. The tornado grew as it sucked passing clouds down into its rotation to add them to its deadly spin. She gasped. That’s it!
With newfound determination, she shot above and ahead of the tornado before looking down. Her heart rate spiked, and her breathing became choppy. Oh, Celestia, please make this work. With a gulp and a deep breath, she plunged toward the earth.
The cone formed quickly in her desperation, and she spun like a drill as the tornado passed underneath.
Perfect.
The blackness of the tornado’s gaping mouth swallowed her. A sudden pain stabbed at the insides of her ears, muffling the tornado’s rage, and there was no air to breathe. Not yet! The walls of the tornado closed in around her. Almost! Her ears popped, and the roar of the tornado rushed upon her. A swirl of dirt whipped up from below, catching her in the face and stinging her eyes. She panicked.
Scootaloo spread her wings to land, but was snatched by an updraft in the bowels of the beast. It twisted and contorted her like a ragdoll before spitting her out into an ungraceful roll across the grass. The world spun sideways as her head tried to figure which way was up. Her legs were no more coordinated as she tried to stand, but she smiled nonetheless at the warped sight of her second tornado.
The cyclone was met with the counter-spin of the second and broke apart. From the top down, the fury of the storm dissipated, leaving the dirt it contained to gravity’s design. Slowly waning away, the once mighty terror shrank to a miniature replica of its former self. The feeble swirl collided with Scootaloo’s chest and broke upon her, like waves upon the bow of a ship, and was no more.
It worked? “Hah! It worked!” she shouted. With a back flip and another shout, she took off toward the forest. There was much to be done, and very little time in which to do it.
≈≈≈×≈≈≈
The next day brought with it wonderful flying weather. A cool, gentle breeze swept through the clouds above the meadow and across Scootaloo’s face as she looked down from her perch in the sky. It carried the sweet aroma of dough and sugar from Ponyville. She breathed deeply of the saccharine fragrance before releasing it with a contented sigh. Moments like this made life worth living. Another glance at the dancing grass below brought her back to reality. With a grin, she leapt.
The friendly wind grew to a roaring thunder in her ears. It compressed about her, forming the familiar cone around her body. She clenched her teeth. Come on! The earth grew rapidly. Too rapidly. An irritable grunt escaped her, and she pulled out of the dive. With its momentum, she soared upward for another attempt, but something caught her eye.
Two miniature figures stood by an elm that sat alone in the meadow, peering up at her and waving emphatically. She could hear their faint voices calling for her. Interested in what her friends were up to, she decided to investigate.
“Hey guys, what are you doing out here?” she asked before her hooves even touched the ground.
“We came to cheer you on!” Applebloom replied with a similar expression. “We thought if you were still workin’ on your cutie mark, then we’d have to help somehow.”
“Yea, what she said!” Sweetie Belle chimed in.
“Heh, thanks,” Scootaloo replied, directing her gaze to her hooves, slightly embarrassed. She looked up to see them beaming at her expectantly and leaned back, puzzled. “Uh, what?”
“Well?” Applebloom asked.
“Well what?” she fired back, still thoroughly confused.
“What are you workin’ on? You were flyin’ awfully fast.”
“Oh,” she answered smugly, “I’m just working on doing a sonic rainboom.”
“Cooool!” they both replied in unison.
Their enthusiasm brought a grin to her face, and she launched skyward for another bout with the sound barrier. Her friends’ hoops and hollers faded below. She circled around, far above the clouds. With another dive, the cone appeared and shrank to fit her stature. Closer. Closer. She could sense it, just beyond her grasp.
Without warning, she came to an unexpected halt and hung motionless for an instant, caught by the resistant force of the cone. Much to her surprise, it shot her head over hooves into the air.
The world spun. Shock overpowering thought, Scootaloo flailed her legs about as she tumbled through the air, the blue and green of earth and sky smearing together. Not good. She flapped her wings frantically in hopes of regaining control. Fear rose in her stomach as the town continued to enlarge with every nauseating somersault. Calm down! Focus!
Scootaloo spread her wings wide and held them rigid. She concentrated on the air caught within them, feeling its chaotic pattern. Carefully, she began to twist and angle her wings, slowly neutralizing her tumble.
The earth and sky stopped their wild dance, and she righted herself into a glide just above the rooftops of Ponyville with enough speed to bank around town hall and back out to the meadow in a single, graceful motion.
Confidence welled within her after the mishap, and she rode the momentum into her succeeding attempts, each coming closer than the last.
≈≈≈×≈≈≈
Autumn followed on the heels of summer, seeing the trio off to their much undesired academic studies. The slow but steady drop in temperature was a welcome change for Scootaloo. She always liked autumn—the cool nights, the early sunsets, the changing colors of the trees, the annual Running of the Leaves—it was a good season.
She continued her morning exercises into the academic year, rising with the sun and setting out for the meadow to become one with the air. School bridged the gap between morning and afternoon training, where Applebloom and Sweetie Belle spent their evenings out in the meadow, eager to cheer her on.
Mid-September brought with it the blustery winds and the cool rains of the season. It was a damp month, wet from the constant rain storms the pegasi of Ponyville had scheduled. Though many complained of the dreary atmosphere, it was in the spirit of the season—a spirit that Scootaloo took in stride.
A light drizzle fell about the meadow one morning, stirred only by an inconsistent wind. Morale was high, and so, too, was Scootaloo before she descended toward the earth in her struggle against the confines of subsonic flight.
The ground swelled in her sights, blurred by speed and the ghostly white about her. She felt the cone sharpen like an arrowhead, giving her a sliver of hope. No such luck. Scootaloo pulled out of her dive, narrowly missing the ground, and returned to the skies for another attempt.
She threw herself at the forest below, but was met with the stern rejection of the sound barrier. It launched her back into the sky where she righted herself and assailed its boundaries a third time. Then a fourth. Then a fifth.
Above the rolling cumulus, Scootaloo readied herself for more but heard the school bell toll out the half hour. If she didn’t hurry, she would be late for class. She took off for home to wash up and gather her things before heading to school.
≈≈≈×≈≈≈
“Good morning, class,” came a cheerful voice.
“Good morning, Ms. Blackboard,” the class chimed back with much less enthusiasm.
“Now, everypony open your history books to page twenty-four,” Ms. Blackboard said. The collective sound of opening books filled the room. Scootaloo let out a sigh and planted her face firmly between the open pages.
Ugh... bored already...
She was tired of listening to teachers drill information into her skull. All she wanted to do was fly; sitting in a classroom and learning stuff she didn’t care to know wasn’t her game. She didn’t care about how to multiply or divide, or where to find Trottingham on a map. Science didn’t appeal to her, nor did reading. She despised writing most of all, with particular loathing for the paper that was due... She shot upright.
Oh, crap...
Due next period. She had already forgotten two assignments in Mr. Inkwell’s class this week, and he wasn’t lenient on late submissions. This wasn’t going to go over well with her father at all.
A sinking feeling engulfed her. She couldn’t afford another zero, let alone even a seventy percent if she were to get a decent grade. How was she going to write a paper about the greatest lesson she’d ever learned before class?
A sudden thought struck her, and she looked up at the clock above the chalkboard with a resolute glare. Three pages in forty minutes?
Challenge accepted.
Scootaloo put pencil to paper with desperate fervor, channelling her thoughts into the loose leaf. She wrote about her relationship with Rainbow Dash—learning to fly, the audition, her fateful last words—disclosing everything up through that day. Her father’s wisdom found its way into her paper—how he went through the same as she—as did her time spent with the other Crusaders.
She didn’t know when it happened, but comfort in her words slowly replaced the fear of their deadline. It was as if writing out her experiences renewed her determination.
Success!
Scootaloo laid her pencil on her desk and glanced up at the clock just as the bell rang. She gave her chicken scratch a leery glance, disapproving of her hasty messiness, but dismissed her worries. Screw it, he got paid to read it this kind of stuff.
Scootaloo packed her things and headed for the door, grinning.
≈≈≈×≈≈≈
The following weeks were trying times for Scootaloo. She worked tirelessly to gain headway against the sound barrier, but saw no real progress since her first week. It left her feeling discouraged and inefficient.
Every night, she eyed her calendar, watching the days fly away as her deadline neared. The days grew shorter. The nights grew colder. And the weather grew crummier.
She had the will of a mountain, but even the mightiest of stones is eroded by time and an adverse climate. Day in and day out. Hundreds of dives. Thousands of backlashes. Zero sonic rainbooms.
A bell rang out through Ponyville, and the Crusaders exited the schoolyard to the usual sounds of cheering schoolmates. Applebloom and Sweetie Belle conversed excitedly, though Scootaloo refrained, distracted by her thoughts.
“What’s wrong, Scoot?” Sweetie Belle asked, noticing her friend’s dampened spirits. Scootaloo continued to stare off into space for a second before coming to.
“Huh?”
“I asked, what’s wrong?”
“Oh, nothing... It’s just, I’ve been working on this for months now, but I haven’t gotten any closer to making a sonic rainboom.”
“Sure ya have,” Applebloom joined in, “You get closer and closer every time, not to mention how quickly you come back after it shoots you out like that.” She shot a hoof into the air to a complementary “woosh!”
It was true. She had become quite adept at regaining control after every backlash of the mach cone. Sometimes, just to take her mind off the stress or to release any pent up frustration, she purposefully made it happen to remind herself that she was still in control. But right now, that thought did little to raise her head from its slouch.
The cold, hard fact that she had not yet broken the sound barrier within the last two months weighed heavily upon her shoulders, and her body language showed it.
“Let’s just go,” Scootaloo said submissively. She continued along the road, but stopped and turned upon noticing the absence of complying hoofsteps. Applebloom and Sweetie Belle gave her concerned looks after exchanging their own.
“Um, sorry, Scoot, but shouldn’t we go do that homework Ms. Blackboard gave us first?” Sweetie Belle asked.
Scootaloo looked down at her saddlebags with lopsided ambivalence. It was a lot of homework, and was due tomorrow. She shook her head. There was no time.
“I can’t. Not now,” Scootaloo said, “I’ll work on it tonight. I have to keep practicing.”
Applebloom and Sweetie Belle shared another look before apologizing and heading for Carousel Boutique. The clouds rolling in from the forest threatened rain, and the two didn’t want to leave the well-being of their homework to chance. A moment of silence passed, leaving Scootaloo to march onward alone.
Wait, why was she walking? Now without a grounded escort, she took wing and arrived within minutes, beginning her regimen without delay.
The evening wore on as Scootaloo rose and fell above the meadow. A sketch of her training would have put a seismograph to shame.
The sun quickly set, and the school bell chimed seven times far off in the distance. Scootaloo looked up in disbelief at the sun’s absence. Seven already? What the hay! She growled at the evening twilight before launching skyward.
≈≈≈×≈≈≈
The bell tolled away the hours as the moon arced across the sky. Scootaloo sat up from her most recent attempt and chiseled away the plaster of sweat and dirt that covered her. Closing her eyes, she fell onto her back to rest her wings.
A minute passed in silence. It occurred then that she had forgotten to check-in with dad again. He would have a hay-day about that for sure. She blew a raspberry in resignation to the coming scolding, and opened her eyes. A million stars twinkled in the darkened heavens. Their light blanketed the meadow in a ghostly candescence. She looked down at the mud caking her underside and picked at it subconsciously, revealing the subdued orange of her coat. With a sigh, she returned her gaze to the sky.
Why does this have to be so hard? How did Rainbow Dash make this look so easy? The stars returned her questions with silence. She turned her head and saw the numerous lights of Ponyville flickering in the distance. Sighing again, she gathered her saddlebags and took flight toward the warm, inviting glow.
Scootaloo opened the front door of her home and stumbled to her room, carelessly dumping her saddlebags on the floor. Languidly, she crawled into bed, but started.
With a weary face, she looked at the bags. Dread nipped at her heart, but she shrugged it off. She snuggled beneath the blankets and slipped into nothingness, leaving the contents of the cotton satchels untouched.
≈≈≈×≈≈≈
Scootaloo shuffled into class late. She crossed the classroom, eyes downcast in annoyance.
“Good morning, Scootaloo,” Ms. Blackboard said as she passed out graded papers to the class. Scootaloo didn’t return the mare’s greeting, nor her friends’ as she threw her belongings beneath her seat and plopped down. She was tired of it; she didn’t want to be here. It was almost December. She didn’t have time to sit still. The chill of late fall called out to her from the window. Every minute she wasted in here was another not allocated to flight, to not surpassing Rainbow Dash. Scootaloo laid her head on her desk and sighed.
“Hey, Scoot, what’s wrong?” Applebloom asked.
Scootaloo turned to look at her. She could see the concern her friend’s face. “Nothin’,” she replied with a weak smile, “just tired is all.” She laid her head on the desk again and stared absent-mindedly into the back of the colt’s head in front of her.
A piece of paper landed on her desk. It took a moment to register, but when Scootaloo noticed it, she looked up. Ms. Blackboard stood beside her, frowning. With a shake of her head and a sigh, the mare continued down the row of desks.
Scootaloo looked back at the graded worksheet. Twenty-six. She gave a shrug of indifference and rested her head on the desk again, unceremoniously sweeping the paper to the floor.
Class resumed when Ms. Blackboard returned to her desk to begin her lecture, but Scootaloo tuned her out. Why do I have to be here? This is stupid. She looked out the window at the dark grey overcast. The trees shook in the wind. Great... She folded her hooves on her desk and buried her face in them.
“Are you sure you’re alright?” Applebloom asked. “You’ve been acting like this for weeks.”
“Mmm,” Scootaloo groaned, not bothering to lift her head. A hoof poked her in the side, and she groaned again, waving a hoof in the general direction of the culprit. Applebloom huffed, but left her friend alone for the remainder of class.
≈≈≈×≈≈≈
Rain poured that evening. The sky hung low in a dark, thick mass, as if weighed down by the cold river it futilely tried to retain.
Scootaloo plowed through the blackened clouds, rushing headlong at the marsh below. Her eyesight was blurred by both her speed and the thousands of raindrops she outpaced in her descent. The cold November gusts whipped about, adding to the sharp liquid needles that assaulted her.
No dice.
She veered upward for another attempt, beating her wings hard to maintain the momentum that the driving rain stole from her. Dive after dive. Pullout after backlash. Which one was she on? Scootaloo lost count.
She positioned herself for yet another dive. Through the clouds she fell. The cone formed around her, deflecting some of the rain that would have torn at her face like the claws of mischievous demons. She felt the cone narrow slightly, but was too dazed from innumerable repetitions to see how close she was to the earth.
She plunged headlong into a deep quagmire that had formed in submission to the unrelenting downpour. Disoriented and unable to breathe, she squirmed about like an earthworm to try breaking free of the sucking mud. Her head swam, and her lungs burned.
With one last heave, she managed to pry her head free, and her gasp resounded throughout the immediate area. She coughed and sputtered as she pried her forehooves from the muddy vacuum.
Scootaloo fell to her haunches and looked to the distant, glistening lights of Ponyville. Wings limp, she sat motionless for a while, staring off into space, deaf to the heavy percussion about her. Time passed in mental stillness. It didn’t matter. She looked up, straight into the nothingness above. Eyes unblinking, she remained so for untold minutes. Then, she looked down at the thick mud beneath her and sighed.
[Special thanks to Filler, Cassius, Cold in Gardez, Drakmire and Secondaryspine for their input and reviews of the original write, and Belligerent Sock for his of the rewrite.]
Stats
Page generated in 0.025 seconds
Total duration
943 users online
112,188 hits today, 2,280,440 yesterday
FIMFiction
My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic Fanfiction
Designed and coded by knighty & Xaquseg - © 2011-2024
Follow & Support Us
Support us
SubStar
Chat!
Discord
Follow us
Twitter
MLP: Friendship is Magic® - © 2024 Hasbro Inc.®
Fimfiction is in no way affiliated with or endorsed by Hasbro Inc.®
Three pages in forty minutes?\
Been there....
Loving this rewrite. The way you show scoots progression and development in this version compared to the last is so much better.
I have a feeling that RD is doing a bit of reverse psychology on Scoots like what some of my teachers used to do. They would say I had no chance of succeeding because they knew I would push to prove them wrong and when I rubbed the success in their face the response was "I knew you could do it"
I have a feeling that RD is pulling a similar trick.
RD "nice one kiddo. I knew you could do it."
Scoot: "but you said that I wasn't good enough and that you don't train losers. Why did you say that when you knew I could do it?"
RD: "I did it because I didn't want you to be like me but become a better me. You needed to find your own way and you couldn't do that with me there. I'm proud of you Scoots. I always have been. You earned this!"
Or something like that anyway.
Or she is being a complete bitch!!
Poor Scoots
2571469
Scoots: "So, let me get this straight: did you turn your back on me and break my heart, as a ruse to make me hate you and encourage myself to improve to the point I would finally surpass you, instead of... you know, inspire me with that Loyalty of yours to be worthy of your praise?"
"Well, congratulations. Your plan was a great success. And now that I´m better than you, I think it is fair I become the new captain of the Wonderbolts. So... GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY ACADEMY, BITCH!"
2571469
I hope not. That would be horribly cliche and unsatisfying.
encrypted-tbn2.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcSlD7PoMCAY3zhn2cU_6cHYuwLWsXohU4XUohisK-ohQZoGnJUjfw
Don't give up Scoots!
That should say, "...at her face."
I'm really loving reading through this story again. Keep up the great work.
ok physics time.... technically the speed of sound changes along with air pressure and temperature, at room temperature, its 340 m per s.
if the temperature of the air goes down by 5 degrees then the speed of sound goes significantly down as well.
being a Pegasus and able to control the weather, she could be able to lower the air temperature around her wings just as the sonic cone forms.
furthermore, she could decrease the aie pressure in front of her and increase it behind her... thus lowering the sound barrier even more and giving her extra velocity all in one move
Analysis time! (WITH SPOILERS!)
* Will Prya end up competing with Scootaloo for Dash's sake, or will she sympathize with Scootaloo and help rectify what happened? Considering all the time Prya has spent with Dash, will she already aware of her mean-spirited nature? Or will Dash hide it enough to keep her satiated with her (potentially fake) encouragement?
* Scootaloo having to write three pages in 40 minutes gave me horrible flashbacks.
* (I apologize in advance for this heated comment. It's my biggest complaint for this wonderful fic) There's an intensely sour atmosphere that's been hanging around since the beginning of Act 2, and though that's not indicative of a bad story, I'm still not sure if I like it. I don't think it's so much due to Dash going into Bitch Mode, nor is it Scootaloo training almost purely out of spite and tireless pain, but either we're not getting enough of Dash's perspective to understand her own backlash or the entire universe just feigned the fact that she acted like an inexcusable douche bag towards the person who looked up to and treated her as a best friend since she was very small child. I am seriously more concerned about how her own friends will react, or even worse, why would the Wonderbolts keep into service a pony that is more than willing to repeatedly do the one thing a Wonderbolt should NEVER do in the first place? She succeeded so well at breaking Scootaloo's heart it's a wonder she didn't preemptively practice and plan it out, so with that in context, why don't we see Dash's friends or the 'Bolts getting onto her for what she did?
If this is intentional, I can tell you it's working. I have never read a piece of fan fiction that made me hate Rainbow Dash the way I have here, to the extent of avoiding stories including her for two days. Dash is possibly the most versatile character in the show because you can write her as likable or extremely unlikable without having to do anything physically or mentally drastic. I still prefer a likable dash(like the one in Flying High, Falling Hard) because then I know she displays compassion and acts more grown up but still has a relatively inflated ego, but then there's this version which shows me just how flexibly she can transition between the two.
* Their relationship felt so genuine, just like it is in the show, so I can't help but wonder if there's something possibly ailing Dash? If you can pull a fast one like that, I'm sure you can pull another, but like everyone else has said she will have to pay up for this. If she doesn't, I will have to break the fourth wall, go into your story, jam my leg into Dash's ass until my foot sticks out of her mouth and cook her over a campfire.
* It ails me, myself, to see Scoots training so hard just out of spite for Dash. It's the pain of being betrayed and wronged at the same time, which later manifests into devilish urge to exact revenge. In the end, I hope this is something Scoots learns from instead of repeating what Dash did.
* It's a bit far back, but Tyco's rant with Scoot's teacher made me rethink his character. It's already kind of awkward how it's the only part of the entire story with intense swearing, let alone any at all, but it didn't make me connect with Tyco's perspective. Sure, the teacher was unusually cruel and deserves a job more akin to a janitor, but Tyco only heard a 'softened' version of her ethics and couldn't retroactively get mad over something he never heard, right? Looks like he was more angry about getting pulled from work early, showing me he has a very short temper and a lot of self-entitlement(you made ME leave WORK for THIS?!?) which isn't such a surprising trait, but the point is it was over something that probably wasn't a big deal. THEN he gets angry with the teacher keeping Scoots back from the contest, taking his anger out more on the school system, bad teachers in general and his own life situations rather than the teacher, herself. In the end, Tyco's weird little rant never settled right with me.
* I wonder why Dash was so tired whenever she worked with Scoots. It could be just as likely that she got poor sleep, but what if this relates to her big betrayal? I'm starting to wonder if she's just possessed or something.
Remember, this is far from negative criticism. Your story is very interesting! Especially Dash's motives which is enough for me to read until the very end! Your prose is also very sophisticated and flows well, and it's good enough for somebody like me to take notes from. I hope you keep up the great work!
And I'd like to find the original version somewhere...
I'd love to see Scootaloo make the Sonic Rainboom her own. Perhaps, add rotations or something of the sort, like she does with her tornadoes. It's really nice to see her progression, or lack thereof with her training.
I feel that while she has gained her independence from her reliance on Dash, her pursuit of "surpassing" her is to simply out-perform her at her own game. In this way, Scoots is still lacking some independence. I hope to see her grow even more as a character and show us something even more epic than the Sonic Rainboom!
Awesome job so far! :D
I think this was where you stopped writing before the rewrite, but I'm not sure.
Scootaloo please, I've done three double-sided pages of paper in 50.
2572005 What?
Feels weird when you write a really personal paper in school, but usually they turn out interesting. This story is just so relatable. Are you me, Corejo? Or am I Scootaloo?
This one must have slipped under the radar. It's the only blemish I've picked out since beginning. Well, that and your unfortunate use of "Applebloom".
Boy, she's pushing herself to the absolute limit, isn't she? A tornado, attempting the sonic rainboom, maintaining her regime consistently... I think she shouldn't be trying to do the sonic rainboom, though. Even if she pulled it off, Rainbow would just be like "Yeah, that's getting old now, been there, done that."
Still cheering. Sirenia, ReVamp, Epica and Mayan are certainly helping with my reading atmosphere.
2584790 sonic rainboom immediately followed by rainbow tornado, now that would be something to see.
Yep yep. It's all starting to come back.
Sonic Rainboom needs to be capped.