> Life of Stylo > by jimmythedragon64 > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > ACT I - Part I: Knock Knock > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- -- Act I -- A good walk’s way to the east, up in the windswept hills above the outskirts of Ponyville, a pegasus named Stylo stares intently at a sheet of paper. His mind is turning and his eyes are calmly closed. “Mmm…hmm. That sounds right,” he softly mumbled to himself. He opened his eyes and scanned the paper before him, reading the lines over once more. The imaginary smiles And the make-believe trees Carry desperate dreams On a humbling breeze For behind those eyes True feelings are found But denial is safe Quill in mouth, he pens one final line below the others. While honesty lies bound Stylo gently placed the quill pen down and breathed a sigh of satisfaction. “Yes. Poetry is the ro-“ His musings are cut short by a harsh knock on his door. Stylo’s smile fades to an unpleasant grimace as he shuffles across the scarcely-furnished room to greet his uninvited guest. He flings the door open to find a brightly colored Pegasus staring back at him. He knew her. Every pegasus knew her. It was Rainbow Dash. She proudly stuck out her chest and began to greet him. “Hello, Mr. Stylo! I am Rainbow Dash, Captain of the We-“ Stylo waved a hoof and cut her off. “Yes yes, I know, I know.” Rainbow continued without missing a beat. “It’s my job to inform you that you have been selected to put in mandatory Weather Team hours as part of the Cloudsdale Weather Team Progress Initiative.” Stylo’s eyes widened. “I’ve been… you… what?” Rainbow dropped her professionalism. “We need you to help us… you know… kick some clouds around. There’s been some really weird weather pattern stuff going on, and the Weather Team needs all the help it can get!” “Oh no. Nononononono. I can’t go up there,” Stylo retorted, retreating inside and casting a wary eye up towards Cloudsdale. “Come on, it’s no big deal. Just get up there, kick some clouds for a day or two, and get it over with.” “No. Mm-mmm. Absolutely not.” Stylo feverishly shook his head as he spoke. Rainbow leaned in and squinted, examining the shivering pegasus before her. “No offense, but it looks like some sunshine could do you a whole lot of good. I mean… why are you wearing a coat? It’s July! How long have you been cooped up in here?” Rainbow trotted inside and examined the house. Not a single light was on. Thin streams of light came in from curtained windows, dimly illuminating some dusty cardboard boxes and a table. She tapped a hoof on one of the boxes. “Ohhhh, did you just move? Do you want to finish unpacking before you head up?” Stylo shook his head. “I’ve been living here for three years. I just… never got settled.” “I’ll say.” She walked over and examined Stylo again. “Look. I know not everybody’s cut out for the Team. But if we don’t get this weather mess sorted out, Ponyville could be in some real danger. So stand up straight…” Rainbow pressed her hooves to Stylo’s spine and straightened him out. “Put your chin up…” She gave him a quick uppercut. “And spread those wings!” She jumped up and spread her wings wide. Stylo opened up his flutter-flappers with the silky-smoothness of a rusted machine. You could almost hear them creak. Rainbow’s expression faltered. “Wow. What have you been doing these past three years?” Stylo closed his wings and slouched once more, his tattered mop of a mane covering his indigo eyes. Suddenly, his helplessness turned to anger. “You listen here, missy!” he spat as he stomped over to the Weather Team captain, “it’s none of your business how I spend my time, and it’s none of your business to come here and demand that I do your job for you, so you might as well turn around and march out of here right now, because…” Stylo stood up straight and crossed his forelegs. “I’m! Not! Going!” Stylo stood, triumphant, waiting for a response. Rainbow simply stared at him with wide eyes as silence flooded the room. Stylo was about to speak again when Rainbow abruptly dashed toward him and cocked a hoof. “AAH!” Stylo cried and shielded his face. “Okay, I’ll go!” She lowered her hoof and grinned. “Great!” Stylo sighed as she strode past him. “It’s only a minute’s fly from here, but I can give you five to help break those dusty old wings in.” Stylo looked up at her with eyes full of spite. “I’m taking a balloon.” “Whaaaaat?” Rainbow looked back over her shoulder. “We don’t have time for that! We’ve already wasted enough!” “Well…” Stylo began, a smile spreading across his face, “we could reach Cloudsdale much more quickly if you let me ride you there.” He cheekily nudged her. “Ugh.” Rainbow breathed an exasperated sigh and clapped a hoof to her face. “Fine.” She stepped out on to the front sidewalk, spread her wings wide, and bent down. Stylo simply watched, grinning. Rainbow cocked her head at him. “Well?” Stylo began to chuckle as he trotted over and mounted his trusty steed. Rainbow and her passenger took off for Cloudsdale. --- High up in the air at a comfortable cruising altitude, Rainbow Dash and Stylo have almost reached their destination. Some pegasi began to pass by them, causing Stylo to sit up straight and assert his superiority over these brutes. “Yah!” he barked, smacking his steed on back of the head. “Straight ahead! Yah!” Rainbow’s eyes widened. “Are you serious?” Passing pegasi watched in confusion as Stylo commanded his horse. “Mush! Mush! Faster, you!” “If you insist…” Rainbow muttered, narrowing her eyes and adopting a smirk. “Yah, I said! Yah…wait. What are you doi-AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHhhhhhhhhhhhh…!” Stylo could only hold on for dear life as Rainbow shot forward towards Cloudsdale at the speed of sound. > ACT I - Part II: Pleasantries > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Quivering and wide-eyed, Stylo falls off of Rainbow’s back and lands on one of the many clouds comprising Cloudsdale. Rainbow trots over to his fetal figure. “Ta-daa! We’re here! See, that wasn’t so bad.” She bent down and offered him a hoof, which he clutched tightly with both forelegs. “Nice mane,” she added as she pulled him up. Stylo reached up and felt his new hairdo. The intense speed had slicked it back more smoothly than any hair gel ever could. “I need to shower more often…” he grumbled. “Come on!” Rainbow called a few strides ahead, “Let’s get you started!” She led Stylo on through the soft, pillowy city. The pair finally came to a clearing in which many pegasi ambled about on a large flat cloud, talking amongst themselves. The sheer magnitude of the social interaction taking place left Stylo repulsed. Rainbow led him through the crowd by the hoof, scanning the pegasi that comprised it. “No… no… let’s see…hmm?” She stopped abruptly. Stylo saw that a light-blue unicorn with a fancy purple cape had captured her attention. “Trixie?” she asked the mysterious unicorn, “What are you doing here?” “The Great and Generous Trixie has come to aid your cloud-clearing efforts!” she said with her chest puffed out and her head high. Rainbow smiled. “Thanks, Trixie, but you didn’t have to come all this-“ “Um, question?” Stylo interrupted. The two blue ponies whirled to face him. “How are you not falling through the clouds?” Trixie grinned. “Oh hoh hoh, it’s quite simple! I just cast a “walk-on-clouds” spell on myself while taking the balloon up here!” “Wow. That makes us pegasi seem pretty useless, huh?” Stylo replied, chuckling. Trixie’s eyes widened with excitement. “Of course! Unicorns can quite easily do all of the things pegasi do, but we make these flying brutes do all of the manual labor so we may concern ourselves with more important things like magic and educa-…” Trixie trailed off as Rainbow’s icy stare cut into her. “I-I mean… we all have our talents!” Trixie finished, grinning widely. Rainbow frowned. “…Yeah. Trixie, since you’re so eager to help, why don’t you go clear up the thunderheads out west? They could really use your ‘talents’.” Trixie gave a halfhearted salute. “Yes sir, Rainbow sir.” As she trotted past Stylo, he leaned over and whispered to her. “She’s just jealous.” Trixie silently laughed and gave him a wink. --- “Wild Fire!” Rainbow called out, hopping up and down. A cream-colored mare seemed to respond to this a few yards away. She dashed over in an instant and promptly saluted her captain. “Yes sir, Rainbow sir!” “This is Stylo,” Rainbow began, motioning to the unenthused figure next to her, “He’s one of our emergency WTPI recruits. I need you to show him the ropes. Get him going and stuff.” A bright smile spread across Wild Fire’s face. She swept her coffee-brown mane out of her eyes and saluted again. “O-Of course!” Rainbow gave her a playful head rub. “That’s what I like to hear! You’re doing great out there, Fiery. And Stylo?” “Mmm?” Stylo murmured, looking up from staring at his hooves. Rainbow breathed a sigh. “Just do your best, alright?” “Hmph.” “Good enough.” Rainbow gave the two of them a wave and took off, flying away to some faraway destination. --- “Thank you so much for coming out here, Sh…what was your name, again?” “Stylo. And I didn’t have much of a choice,” he grumbled, absentmindedly tossing his little black notebook up and catching it. “We’re here to play a very important part!” Wild Fire replied, snatching the notebook away from him, “If we don’t sort out this crazy weather-“ “GAH! Give it back!” Stylo cried, flailing his hooves at his adversary. “Okay, okay! Sorry.” She handed him the notebook. Stylo held it to his nose and breathed deeply. “My poems… are my children,” he began. His head suddenly shot up as he gave Wild Fire an emotional glare. “You just kidnapped my children!” “I’m sorry!” She repeated, “I just-… I didn’t know. I won’t do it again.” She plodded over and hugged him. Stylo breathed a sigh and clutched his precious book. “…Alright.” He opened his eyes and looked down. “…Don’t hug me.” “You know you need it.” “Ugh. Come on, let’s go… clear out these troublesome clouds, or whatever.” “Okay!” Wild Fire abruptly let go and took off toward the west, flying with great speed. After a few seconds, she came back down. “Aren’t you coming?” she asked Stylo, confused. Stylo eyed his wings nervously. “I haven’t flown in three years. I think I forgot how.” Wild Fire let out a hearty laugh. “What? Come on, you can’t fool me!” Stylo simply stood there helplessly. Wild Fire’s smile faltered. “…You’re serious?” He grinned weakly. “Could I hitch a ride?” “Could you… ugh! Sure, whatever!” A toothy grin spread across Stylo’s face as he skipped over to his noble steed. > ACT I - Part III: Trial by Fire > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- “Mush! Mush!” “Will you cut that out?!” Off to the west, amongst towering thunderheads and unsettled rainclouds, Wild Fire and her passenger touch down. Much to Stylo’s relief, this ride was much more enjoyable than the last one. He hopped off Wild Fire’s back and took a look around. They weren’t alone – many other pegasi darted this way and that, clearing away the stormy vapor. He spied colts and mares of all different colors – there was an orange one, and a pink one, and a gray one, and… a rainbow one. “Oh hey, there’s Rainbow,” Wild Fire commented, waving to her captain. “Mmm. Could we… relocate, perhaps?” Stylo asked, anxiously. “What’s up? These thunderheads scaring you?” “No no, it’s just that working so close to Cap’n Rainbow over there is going to make it hard to slack off,” he replied, apathetically poking at a nearby cloud lump. “Dagh!” Wild Fire groaned, “You just made me fly you all the way here!” “Yes, but now my plan is ruined. Now we-… you know what? Let’s just go get some coffee or something and wait until this all blows over. Ponyville’s not so far, right?” Wild Fire simply stared, dumbfounded as Stylo reached into his coat pocket. “I’ve got couponnnnnsssss…!” Wild Fire tromped over to her lazy colleague. “WHAT are you TALKING about?! Do you not see these clouds? These are some of the biggest, most out-of-control storms we have EVER. SEEN. And you just want to ignore it and… and slurp coffee like some kind of idiot?!” “…Yes?” Stylo replied, shrugging. “And WHY are you wearing a coat? It’s July!” she spat, her fiery gaze burning a hole in Stylo’s fancy jacket. Stylo tilted his head up and crossed his forelegs. “My soul knows no seasons!” Wild Fire’s eyelids drooped. After a few seconds she bellowed out, “RAINBOW! I CAN’T WORK UNDER THESE CONDITIONS!” “Shhh-shh-shhhh! Come on, let’s leave these ponies to their silly clouds!” Stylo leaned in and coaxed. Wild Fire took a deep breath. “No. If I’m going to teach you anything, it’ll be how to get motivated.” Stylo’s smile fell for miles before reaching a desperate frown. “Nnnyuuuuuggghhhh…!” “Here, take this. Treasure it like your little black book.” Wild Fire poked her head around in her saddlebag and came out with a hand mirror clutched in her teeth. She held it out to her confused companion. “A mirror?” he mused, taking the aforementioned object and eyeballing his reflection. “It’s the most powerful motivational tool of all. Whenever I’m feeling down, or useless, or… like you, I look myself straight in the eye and say…” The proud pegasus looked up to the heavens and put a hoof on her heart. “I can DO it!” Stylo was unimpressed. Wild Fire motioned to his mirror. “Go on… say it!” “You can do it.” “No no no, I can do it!” “Be my guest.” “Blagh!” she grunted, throwing up her hooves. “And why should I get motivated about this work, anyhow?” Stylo began, stuffing the mirror in his pocket, “Who are we to decide what nature does? Who are we to dictate the weather? If the natural order calls for these monstrous storm clouds, I say, so be it! Mother Nature knows best!” Stylo looked over at Wild Fire, who sat with her forelegs crossed and her eyes narrowed. “Do you understand what I’m saying? Let’s just leave the weather alone!” Stylo eyed the moody pegasus, eagerly awaiting a response. Without warning, she jumped up in Stylo’s face and raised a hoof. “AAH! Okay, I’ll help you clear the clouds!” She sat back down, smirking. Stylo buried his face in his hooves. “Ohhhh… I’m surrounded by brutes…” --- “No no, you don’t understand, Trixie’s plan was to simply make an appearance! That way, the pegasi would spread stories about my volunteering and admire my great generosity! Rainbow Dash scratched her head. “Trixie, pretending to be generous and being generous aren’t the same thing.” Trixie looked up in desperation. “I know, but it’s so harrrrrd…! Small steps are better than none, right?” “…I guess, but come on…being nice isn’t that hard. I do it all the time!” Trixie collapsed into a bow. “Teach me, Kind and Generous One!” Rainbow picked her up off the fluffy ground. “It’s easy! Just think for a second… if you were a nice person, what nice things would you be doing right now?” Trixie thought for a second, then clapped a hoof to her head. “Ouch!” Rainbow was taken aback. “Did thinking nice thoughts just give you a headache?” “No no, it’s this blasted spell! Even the Great and Pow…heh, even Trixie has trouble walking on clouds for long periods.” “Oh! Here.” Rainbow flew over and scooped Trixie up. “Now you can do all the thinking you want!” Trixie beamed and clapped her hooves together. “My hero! So this is what it’s like to be nice…! “Ooh ooh! Can you carry me next?!” Rainbow and Trixie looked over to see a happy pink pony bouncing up and down. “Hey! What’s up, Pinkie?” Rainbow replied, gliding over to her friend. “Are you here to help clean up the clouds, too?” “Oh gee, that sounds like a lot of fun, but I’m here on important business! Have you seen a pony that looks like this?” Pinkie quickly put on a long black coat and screwed her face into a moody scowl. “Oh! That would be Stylo,” Rainbow answered, “He’s probably in the cafeteria having dinner with the others.” “Thank you thank you thank you!” Pinkie cried and bounced off toward the cafeteria. --- Stylo sat in a corner, far away from the hustle and bustle of the rest of the cafeteria, gently penning lines in his notebook. The pony and the cloud The piper and the pit Do battle once more In a hasty fit But this great machine Makes a rattle and hum Captain Rainbow forgets Stylo smirked before writing the final line. Pegasi are dumb “Hello!” An ear-shattering voice tore Stylo from his thoughts. He looked up in surprise to see a pink mare standing not two inches from his nose. “Hello.” Looking past her smiling face he noticed she was an earth pony. “How was the balloon ride?” “Oh, it was great! But some nasty birds popped a few of them on the way up. I should stop bringing so much food!” Stylo simply stared back blankly. “Hey, are you Stylo?!” she asked abruptly. “Afraid so.” “I’m Pinkie Pie!” She grabbed his left hoof and gave it a hardy shake. “I’m here on important business!” “Oh, are you…?” Stylo asked halfheartedly, looking back at his book. “Yes sir-oonie! My staff tells me that you haven’t been to a single Pinkie Pie party since, well… ever! I’m recruiting you for mandatory party hours for Pinkie Pie’s Party Progress Pinitiative! Or… Puh-puh-puh-puh-puh!” “Party Prog-… No! Uh-uh! I’m not doing any more of this nonsense!” “Sorry, Pinkie, but he’s gonna be busy for a while.” Pinkie whirled around to see Rainbow Dash behind her. “Stylo here is doing Weather Team time. He’ll have to put in his hours for me before he goes to any parties.” Stylo jumped up and ran over to Rainbow. “Yep, mm-hmm! That’s right!” “Ohhh… darn it!” Pinkie groaned, snapping her… fingers? “Take it easy, okay?” Rainbow gave the two of them a wink and trotted away. “Well, since I’m here, let’s get to know each other better!” Pinkie piped up, staring at Stylo with big ol’ eyes. “Uhhhmmm-“ “I really like your mane!” Pinkie commented, running her hoof over Stylo’s icy locks. “Oh, well… you can thank Cap’n Rainbow for that.” “How long have you two been friends?” Stylo’s expression faltered. “Mmm? We, uh… we aren’t… friends.” “Whaaaaaaaat?!” Pinkie bellowed, “Who are you friends with?!” Stylo strode back over to the table and scooped up his little black book. “My only friends are my pen and paper.” Pinkie looked horrified. “WHAAAAAAAAT?!?!” Stylo covered his ears. “Agh!” “WE NEED TO GET YOU SOME FRIENDS RIGHT NOWWWWW!!! WE NEED TO…we need to…” Ding! A 50-watt bulb suddenly appeared over Pinkie’s head. “We need to get you to Cloudchaser!” “…Who?” Stylo asked, cautiously swatting at the light bulb above Pinkie’s head. “She should be in here, somewhere!” Pinkie jumped up on the table and scanned the bustling cafeteria. “Ah-HAH!” She called, pointing a hoof over at the far south end of the building. She jumped down off the table and clutched Stylo’s face. “She’s perfect! You’re both pegasi… you’re almost the same color… I like both of your manes… it’s like you’re twins!” Stylo slowly removed Pinkie’ s hooves from his face. “…Yeeeahhh…” Pinkie looked up at the now-dark lightbulb above her head. “Oh!” She grabbed it and held it out to Stylo. “You can keep that!” He nervously took the bulb and slid it into his pocket. “Come on! This way!” Pinkie sang, bouncing off toward the front entrance. Hypnotized, Stylo followed. Maybe Pinkie was right… maybe he could use a friend. Silence was wonderful, sure, but the emptiness of that old Ponyville house drove him mad some nights. And if Cloudchaser was half as endearing as Pinkie made her out to be, perhaps he could finally find a pegasus whose company he could stand. If he was lucky, he could experience the mythical and oft-mentioned “pleasant conversation”. And it’s… not like he had anything better to do. --END OF ACT I-- > ACT II - Part I: Beauty Beheld > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- --Act II-- Led on through the humble cafeteria filled with the chaotic drone of ongoing conversations, Stylo shuffled along in a daze behind his shepherd, Pinkie Pie. Her smooth, carefree bouncing came to an abrupt halt, startling Stylo out of his trance. “There! Cloudchaser and Flitter are talking by the door!” she loudly whispered to him, stretching a hoof in their general direction. Stylo squinted at the small group of ponies chatting nearby. “How will I know which one she is?” he asked. “She’s the one with the really cool mane!” Pinkie responded, grinning and throwing up her hooves. “Now get over there and fulfill your destiny!” Stylo took a deep breath. Pinkie had made something as mundane as a meet-and-greet seem like a momentous occasion. He feebly stepped over to the door, eyes darting this way and that. There were quite a few ponies here. How was “really cool mane” supposed to help him? That’s entirely subjective! He shuddered at the thought of Pinkie issuing a statement to local police. Stylo swallowed a lump in his throat and, against his better judgment, spoke up. “Uhhmm… Cloudchaser and Flitter?” There was some shuffling in the nearby group as two pegasi emerged and called out, “Yes?” simultaneously. At that moment, time seemed to grind to a halt. The air thickened as a pleasant warmth began to grow at the base of Stylo’s very soul. His eyes widened as he beheld majesty he had never even dreamed could exist – a beauty outshining every other wick in this dusty old candlebox. A pale blue pegasus with radiant lavender eyes and a windswept icy mane had emerged in front of him, her “Yes?” still ringing in his ears like a warm bell. Stylo almost choked on his own saliva. Still entranced, he managed to squeak out a sentence. “You… must be Cloudchaser…” Time returned to its normal speed. The two pegasi trotted over to him, Cloudchaser speaking up. “That’s right. Nice to meet you,” she replied with a smile. “Did you need us for something?” “I just… wanted to… to… talk,” Stylo choked out. His brain was scarcely functioning, and he seemed to have forgotten 90 percent of his vocabulary. “I was told you two were here.” Stylo turned to Cloudchaser and smiled weakly. “I was told you were the one with the cool mane.” Cloudchaser softly giggled. Flitter, self-consciously examining her own mane, was not amused. “Well tell them I said thank you,” Cloudchaser replied. “So… what’s your name?” Stylo froze. “Hmm? Uhhhmmm… uhhhh… Sh… St-… STYLO! It’s Stylo!” Cloudchaser softly giggled again. The sound made Stylo’s heart flutter. “Hello, Stylo,” Cloudchaser replied, stepping over and shaking his hoof, “This is my good friend Flitter, as I’m sure you know.” Flitter halfheartedly raised a hoof at him. Stylo did the same. “What’s that?” Cloudchaser inquired, poking at Stylo’s little black notebook. He hadn’t even realized it, but in his anxiety he had apparently pulled it out and been compulsively rubbing his hooves on its smooth cover. “Oh! These are my… my poems!” “Ooh, you’re a poet! I love poetry…it’s so beautiful.” Stylo almost rocketed through the ceiling. “What do you like to write about?” “I-I…uhhh…I…I…” Stylo stammered, scarcely able to hear himself over his heart. Concern fell over Cloudchaser’s beautiful eyes. “Are you alright?” Flitter stepped over and examined the flustered pegasus. “…Why are you wearing a coat? It’s July.” “M-my… uhhhh…” Suddenly, a voice came on over the intercom. “Ladies and gentlecolts, the cafeteria will now be closing. Thank you for your patronage!” “Oops! We’ve got to get going, then. Let’s continue this tomorrow,” Cloudchaser said, giving Stylo another smile. “Tomorrow…? When is…Yeah! Yeah, sure!” Stylo hastily replied. He grinned and waved as Cloudchaser and Flitter trotted through the door and smoothly glided away into the evening sky. Cloudchaser waved back from up above. As soon as they left his sight Stylo collapsed on the cloud floor. That beautiful creature had released her grip on his heart… for now. He was shocked, anxious, confused, and embarrassed beyond measure, but also immeasurably excited. His life had new meaning. “Hey, are you okay?” Stylo opened his eyes to see a light-gold mare above him, offering a hoof. “I am perfectly okay,” he replied, taking it and getting up. “I am absolutely okay.” Deep down, Stylo was happy that Cloudchaser had left. Sure, he wished he could’ve gotten to know her better, but now that he knew of her existence he had time to plan his next method of attack. His advances could wait until tomorrow. Tonight… he would see her in his dreams. --- Still buzzing with a melting pot of emotions, Stylo shuffled through the cloud streets to the WTPI housing area. Rows upon rows of tiny cloud buildings had been built to accommodate the impromptu recruits; Stylo couldn’t help but think of infantry housed in endless army barracks. His way lighted only by the moon, he strode over to the porch and pushed the door open. He wasn’t expecting much, and he got what he expected. His temporary home was a scarcely-furnished little hovel – complete with a bed (sheet included!), a desk, and a lovely wastebin. No “walls” had been put up, meaning that the raw cloud framing served as the walls and floor – dimly lit with streaks of grey and blue as the moonlight lazily wafted in from the lone window. Stylo didn’t care about the furnishing or the atmosphere, however. It had a door, silence, and nobody else inside. It was beautiful. Stylo slid out of his coat and collapsed on the bed with his notebook and pen, breathing in the silence. He had scarcely been able to hear himself think since Cap’n Rainbow had showed up at his doorstep in Ponyville. Finally alone, Stylo opened his book to a blank page and began to write. Overcome with “…Mmm…” Stylo hummed to himself, impatiently tapping his pen on the two words. Overcome with… what? Overcome with emoti “No no, that’s too easy…” he mused, scratching out the sentence and starting again. Overcome with happ “Happiness? No, no!” He angrily scratched out the line again. Overcome with butt He groaned and chucked the little book across the room, flipping over and burying his face in the pillow. Before he had come here his mind was bursting with creativity, but writing a poem about Cloudchaser was proving to be an insurmountable task. “Ohhhh… she has broken me,” he muttered to himself. “Who has broken you?!” “AAHH!” Stylo shot up, clutching his pillow. Pinkie Pie grinned at him. “Did you get into a wrestling match with somepony? Did you break your back? Are you okay?!” Pinkie got closer and closer to his face with each question. “It’s nothing, it’s nothing! It-… it means nothing!” Stylo hastily replied, still clutching his pillow. “Oh, oh! How was Cloudchaser?!” she asked eagerly. Stylo’s eyes softened. “Beautiful…LY ADEQUATE!” Pinkie eyed him curiously. Stylo sat, petrified, fighting the urge to dive out the window. “…I think we’re becoming friends.” “HOORAY!” Pinkie cried, hugging her protégé. “I knew it! I told you her mane was really cool!” “We-e-ell, you were-re’nt kidd-i-inngg!” Stylo got out as Pinkie shook him back and forth. “I’m so glad you made a friend,” Pinkie continued, “We should have a party and celebrate!” “Th-… thanks, Pinkie,” Stylo replied, both touched and amused, “…but it’s getting late. We should probably get to bed.” “Okie dokie lo-oh my gosh!” she exclaimed, nervously eyeing her hooves, “Twilight’s “walk on clouds” spell’s almost worn off!” Pinkie jumped up and dashed out of the little cloud building. She poked her head back through the door. “Good night!” “Mm-hmm,” Stylo replied, raising a hoof. Then, not quite as suddenly as she arrived, she was gone. Stylo breathed a sigh as he got up to retrieve his little black book. It had bounced off the wall and landed on the desk across the room. As he picked it up, he noticed it had knocked over a small desk lamp. He carefully turned it back upright, noticing it had no lightbulb to call its own. “Huh,” Stylo muttered, studying the lamp. Suddenly an idea came to him. He strode across the room, rummaged through his coat pocket, and strode back with Pinkie Pie’s mysterious “idea bulb” in hoof. He screwed it in and turned on the lamp. The bulb stayed dark. Stylo scoffed at himself. “I don’t know why I thought that would work.” > ACT II - Part II: Broken > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Stylo slept quite soundly that night, waking up bright and early as the soft light of early sunrise began drifting in through the window (whether or not he dreamt of Cloudchaser he couldn’t remember). He sat comfortably on his bed, once again writing in his little black book. He wasn’t frustrated or upset at his lack of creativity, anymore – in fact, he was quite amused by Cloudchaser’s ability to leave his inner monologue speechless. He simply wrote what came to mind, careless of its eloquence or coherence. A grey Pegasus Yes, that’s true Quite familiar, actually As the Pink one would say Beauty She beholds in the book In which I attempt to mold Some hardened clay into That fa His stream of consciousness was once again broken by a harsh knock on his door. Once again he shuffled over to answer it, and once again it was Rainbow Dash. Stylo gave a weak smile and a halfhearted salute. “Good morning, Cap’n.” “You’re in trouble, Stylo,” Rainbow began, “…and I really don’t want to do this.” Stylo’s smile faded to a frown of concern. Trouble? What could he possibly have done? “Wild Fire told me all about your work yesterday. She said you spent your whole shift lazing around, trying to convince her to stop working, and writing in your little book. She said you were unmotivated, lazy, and crazy rude.” Stylo nodded. “Those would be accurate observations.” “Ugh, Stylo! When I came to your house and dragged you up here, I wasn’t messing around. We need everybody on the ball if we’re going to get this mess sorted out. “ Stylo rolled his eyes. “I don’t think one pony is going to make a whole lot of difference, here.” Rainbow leaned in and glared at him. “If everypony had THAT mindset, we might as well quit right now!” His mouth spread into a toothy grin. “Alright! Let’s all go home, then!” “Ugh…” she grunted, rubbing her temples, “I thought we could get along, Stylo, but I guess that’s not happening. Looks like you need a little incentive to get you working.” Quick as a flash, Rainbow snatched Stylo’s notebook and pen from his hooves. “Whaaaa-aaaa-AAAAAAHH?!” Stylo was absolutely horrified. “You’ll get these back when I see that you’ve at least TRIED to help us.” “M-my… my life! Rainbow, you can’t-!” “What’s the matter? Where’s all that sarcasm and wit you were dishing out, earlier?” Rainbow mocked with a smirk. “IN THERE!” Stylo cried, pointing a hoof at his precious book. “Come on, chop-chop! Go eat some breakfast. Wild Fire should be waiting for you out west by the time you’re through.” And with that, she took off to who-knows-where with blinding speed, clutching Stylo’s most prized possessions. Stylo stood in silence for a few moments. He was having such a good morning. Now he was watching his purpose in life fly away. After a few minutes he shuffled out, heading west. He didn’t eat breakfast. --- Stylo managed to reach his co-workers after walking like a zombie for what seemed like an eternity. The Weather Team was hard at work kicking at the mighty thunderheads – their fearsome size and bassy rumble much reduced from the day before. Wild Fire was talking with Trixie when he arrived. “There you are, Stylo!” Wild Fire called, standing up, “Rainbow assigned Trixie to our troop because she said you two seemed to get along.” “With the Great and Powerful Trixie and the Wild and Fiery Wild Fire on your side, our cloud-clearing might will increase tenfold!” Trixie proclaimed. “You think you-… Stylo… you look awful…” Wild Fire remarked, stepping over and examining her partner. During his west-bound walk, a crumpled up piece of paper had blown across his path. He was nervously clutching it and muttering to himself. His windswept mane had lost much of its shape, and his eyes looked strained and unhinged. “I… found this paper. That’s one. One down. Now… now all I need is a… pen. Ink. A substance. A runny, runny substance…” Wild Fire looked confused. “Where’s your little book?” “She… took it.” “Oooooh, ouch!” Wild Fire teased, eyes screwed shut, “Looks like you’ll actually have to help me today, huh?” Stylo said nothing. Trixie trotted over. “Oh Stylo, I’ve been meaning to ask you, do you think we could- AH! Are you… drooling?” He was. “Yes, yes!” Stylo perked up, “Drool! Of course! It’s just like ink… it has the same properties…” Stylo held the crumpled paper below his mouth and began to drool on it. The two mares were repulsed. “AGH! Ohhh, don-… Okay. Maybe you should sit this one out,” Wild Fire suggested. “NO!” Stylo stopped “writing” and dashed over to a frightened Wild Fire, “IF I DO, SHE’LL NEVER LET ME HAVE THEM!” “Okay, okay!” she cried, “Let’s… get to work…I guess!” Stylo’s work ethic was a lost cause. Rainbow had hoped to motivate Stylo with her book napping, but all she had done was destroy him. He feebly poked at nearby clouds while Wild Fire and Trixie gave it their all. He was simply unable to function while his life’s work lay in some unknown location – dropped on the floor, or torn up, or thrown away, or set on fire… good heavens! The thought was too much to bear. Occasionally he tried to give a nearby cloud a nudge or push, but more often than not he opted to rest his head on them or bury it in their fluffy wetness, emerging damp and even more pathetic looking. “Stylo…” Wild Fire called with a sigh as he plunged his head into another cloud, “It’s not that bad. I’m sure Rainbow will-Stylo, look out!” Stylo had unfortunately plunged his face into a thunderhead. With a mighty rumble, a jolt of electricity found Stylo to be a wonderful conductor. “AAAAAAAGH!” he bellowed, shaking and smoking. Wild Fire hurriedly rushed over and pulled his head out to find him singed and soot-covered. “Maybe if I do that enough… I’ll forget!” he hopelessly remarked. Wild Fire breathed a worry-filled sigh. “…Okay. Trixie?” Trixie was attempting to shave off a chunk of a nearby thunderhead. “Oof! Agh! Clearing out these clouds while maintaining my walk-on-clouds spell is not easy. How does Twilight give Pinkie one jolt that lasts her the…whole… day?!” She managed to sever a large chunk while finishing her sentence, flying down to Wild Fire and Stylo afterward. “Did you say something?” “Yeah… I think Stylo’s had enough. Let’s wrap this up.” “…No!” Stylo cried, still smoking, “We have to keep going!” “Look at yourself, man!” Wild Fire yelled back, “You were drooling on paper and sticking your head in storm clouds!” “I AM A BROKEN HORSE!!!” “Didn’t somepony break you last night?” Stylo and Wild Fire whirled around to see Pinkie Pie. “Remember? You said somepony broke you, and I came in and was like, ‘Who broke you?’ and you were like ‘AHH!’ because I broke into your hut, and then I asked you about Cloudcha-“ “Cloudchaser…” Stylo whispered to himself. He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out the hand mirror Wild Fire had given to him. His face was a disaster. His eyes were bloodshot, his mane was blackened and charged with electricity, his hair matted, his cheeks stained with rain and tears… what if Cloudchaser saw him like this? Babbling and crying over a little book like some kind of spoiled child? No… he was better than this. He would do his time and get his book back! Stylo wiped his face and stared intently at his reflection. Wild Fire looked over his shoulder at the mirror. “Stylo…” she said, putting a hoof on his shoulder. He puffed out his chest and held his mirror high. “I can DO it!” Wild Fire was stunned. Stylo was motivating himself… and taking her advice, no less! “YEAH!” she cried, pumping a hoof, “YOU CAN DO IT!” “I CAN DO IT!” he cried back. “YOU CAN DO IT!” “LET’S DO IT!” “YEAH!” “YEAH!” “Woah!” Stylo and Wild Fire were practically nose to nose when Rainbow Dash showed up. Stylo turned to Rainbow and saw someone standing behind her. That beautiful creature Cloudchaser had come, too. “Stylo! You look both terrible and amazing!” Rainbow yelled, throwing up her hooves. “I feel alive! Then again, that may be the electricity talking!” he replied, wiping some of the soot from his mane. He was speaking to Rainbow, but couldn’t keep his gaze from Cloudchaser’s stunning presence. “Cloudchaser came by my office – she’s been watching you all day. She said you looked miserable, so I… came to give you your things back.” She held his book and pen in outstretched hooves. Stylo couldn’t believe his eyes. He carefully reached out and scooped them up, holding them close to his chest and consoling them. He looked up at Cloudchaser – his hero. She had made his life whole again. He was immeasurably grateful. “…Thank you…” he choked out, eyes tearing up. “No problem!” Rainbow and Cloudchaser said simultaneously. “Does this mean you’re not broken, anymore?!” Pinkie asked eagerly. Stylo took a deep breath. “I think so.” “Yay, yay, yay! Nopony is broken! That HAS to deserve a party, right?” she asked, beaming up at Rainbow and batting her eyelashes. Rainbow grinned and scratched her head. “Well… cleanup progress was a lot better today than we thought it would be. I think we’ve got a handle on these clouds. I guess we could spare some time for a party.” Pinkie promptly took off into the air like a rocket, leaving a bright jetstream behind her. Stylo wasn’t so happy. He hated parties. > ACT II - Part III: Over the Wall > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- The bright noon sun began slipping away as evening crept in. Stylo, renewed with motivation and his little black book, worked diligently alongside his comrade, Wild Fire. Trixie was nowhere to be seen after lunch – assigned to a less cloud-infested region that better suited her abilities. “Do not think any less of Trixie’s generosity!” she called to Stylo, who felt no ill will, “…or of Trixie’s power!” The shift was now over, and Stylo was once again in his little cloud hut, letting his consciousness flow through his pen and into his leather-bound book. As he wrote, he mused about his actions thus far in Cloudsdale. He had learned quite a lot about himself since setting hoof here. He’d made a complete fool of himself in front of both Cloudchaser and Wild Fire – it was a startling indication of his fragile nature. Stylo wanted everything in his life to be uneventful… to be “right”, or as it always was. He had spent his three years in Ponyville following a simple pattern: eat, think, write, and sleep. He was always at home (except for the occasional stops he made to the Ponyville market street) and he was always alone, except for his book and pens. It was quiet, it was safe, and it was “right”. All these pegasi had done was make his world “wrong” – even Cloudchaser, while absolutely magnificent, was unknown; a stranger. Stylo had seen it all before… infatuation was dangerous. He had to be sure to remind himself not to get too close to her, lest he lose his way. There was only room in his universe for one pony, and that pony was Stylo. Stylo closed his eyes and smiled, satisfied with his internal order. This only lasted a few seconds, however, as new, frightening thoughts crept into his mind. Right? What about this was “right”? Stylo was miserable – that blasted house filled with cardboard boxes containing so many memories… he had thrown away his past and imprisoned himself in routine! All he had done was become a bitter, futureless recluse! He set down his book and held his hooves to his head, rocking back and forth. This was all Cloudchaser’s fault. “Ohhh… what are you doing to me?” he groaned. “What are who… is… who… doing to you?” “The door was locked for a reason, Pinkie.” “What are you talking about?” Pinkie replied with a screwdriver clutched in her teeth. She promptly spat it out, sending it sailing across the room. It knocked over the wastebin. “You didn’t break my door, did you?” “I just came to ask when you were coming to tonight’s party!” she quipped, hopping up and sitting on the bed next to Stylo. “Oh… sorry, Pinkie, but I’m not going,” he replied, exhausted from his mental turmoil. “Of course you are!” she replied, “We’re celebrating your fixing!” Stylo closed his eyes. He was far from fixed. Also, he hated parties. “I hate parties,” he muttered. “What was that?” Pinkie replied, leaning closer. “I hate parties,” he said again, louder. “Say it one more time?” she asked, cupping a hoof behind her ear. Stylo turned to face her and leaned forward. “I! Hate! Parties!” “Ugh, I still can’t understand you!” she complained, scratching her ear, “It sounds like you’re saying ‘I hate parties’!” “That is what I’m saying!” “…Hee hee hah haaaaaahhhh!!!” she laughed wildly, “That’s a good one, Stylo!” “Pinkie…” he began, “I’m not going to your party because I hate parties and I hate myself.” Pinkie’s smile slowly faded away. “Bu-… wh… no! Oh, no! No no no no no, this is all wrong! I have to have a party with every new friend I make!” “Ugh… Pinkie, we’re not fr-…” Pinkie’s eyes widened and she began to tear up and sniffle. A wave of guilt washed over Stylo as he trailed off. Pinkie wasn’t his friend? Why wouldn’t she be? All she had done since meeting him was be nice to him and show him the pony of his dreams. Sure, she came on a little strong, but not every pony could be exactly like him… He closed his eyes again as he churned with emotions. Without warning, he shot forward and hugged Pinkie tightly. They hugged and hugged as the soft light of the sunset drifted in through the window. A few silent moments passed as they clutched each other tightly. Pinkie eventually spoke up. “You have to go… everypony will be there… Rainbow… and Wild Fire… and Cloudchaser…” Stylo perked up. Of course! Cloudchaser would be there! He had seen her today, but never had a chance to continue their conversation. The party would be the perfect chance to really get to know her… or to simply bask in her glow… Suddenly the lightbulb in the desk lamp came on, brightening the room. Pinkie gave one last sniffle and turned around, noticing the new source of light. “…Ooooooooooooohhh! Somepony just had a really good idea!” “Wh-…what? You mean that? That’s just the… the faulty wiring in this cheap old-“ “Hah! Nice try! I’d recognize a Pinkie-brand lightbulb anywhere!” Stylo smiled nervously. “So what is it? What’s your idea?!” Pinkie asked, scooting closer. “Mmm? Oh, it’s just… it’s… ummm…” Stylo looked down at his hooves, anxiously tapping them together. “…you mentioned Cloudchaser, and I just…” Pinkie was staring at him with eager eyes. Stylo let out a heavy sigh. “…Have you ever been in love?” Pinkie’s mouth grew into an immeasurably large smile. “Ooooooooooohhh!!!” “Wait-! I was just-… I didn’t…!” Pinkie’s eyes grew wider. “I was just-!” And wider. “Pinkie!” And wider. “PINKIE!!!” Stylo groaned and collapsed back on to his pillow. “…I’ll be at your party in an hour.” “Yay!” Pinkie cried, hugging Stylo, “It’ll be great! You won’t regret it!” She dashed out the door, but stuck her head back in… narrowing her eyes and wearing a cheeky grin. “…I’ll make sure Cloudchaser is there, too-ooooo…” “PINKIE!” --- The hour passed by in the blink of an eye. Stylo dusted off his coat, neatly reshaped his mane (and cleared the remaining soot from it), and set out to find Pinkie’s party pad. With the help of some friendly pegasi, she had commissioned the construction of a “rec center” a little ways north of the WTPI housing. A few ponies were putting the finishing touches on the cloud roof when he arrived. Stylo clapped a hoof to his head and scoffed to himself. The building looked like a giant cloud cupcake. Stylo waved to the working pegasi above him and stepped through the door. The inside was covered in streamers, balloons, and all kinds of decorations – quite a far cry from his Ponyville home. No one was inside except for Trixie, who was busy stirring a punch bowl. “Hey, Trixie!” Stylo called, winking and pointing his hooves at her, “What have you been up to?” “Hello, Stylo,” she replied, proudly holding her head up, “Ms. Pie has assigned me to punch duty – no doubt because of wonderful abilities…” With a flick of her horn, she levitated a cup, filled it with punch, and moved it over to Stylo. He grabbed it and took a sip. “That’s impressive.” “OF COURSE IT’S-… thank you…!” Stylo gave her an uneasy smile. “Sorry!” she sang, “Force of habit.” She ceased her stirring and trotted past Stylo to the door. “Well, I’d better head back and make sure I look my best for the party. Appearances, and all that…” Stylo raised a hoof as she slipped out. He was about to turn around and examine the building some more when an upside-down Pinkie greeted him face to face. “You made it!” “Yeeee-aghh!” Stylo jumped back and raised his hooves. Pinkie dropped down from the ceiling. “Look, Stylo! I’m a real pegasus, just like you!” Pinkie had fashioned herself some cardboard “wings” with marker details and tied them to her back with too much string. She also had antlers on, for some reason. She jumped up and down with glee. “Quack quack!” “...Pinkie, pegasi don’t-…” Stylo trailed off – he could only laugh as Pinkie pranced about before him. “…Hey, Pinkie, where are all the party guests?” “Oh, they’re not here. The party doesn’t start until nine, silly!” “Nine? But… I told you I’d come in an hour! Why didn’t you correct me?” Pinkie stopped her bouncing. “…I don’t know!” Stylo could only make some strange sigh/groan combination as that pink ball of perpetual energy resumed her bouncing. Applying logic to Pinkie’s actions was hard. “…You might as well be a pegasus,” he mused as he watched her jump over the punch bowl, “I’m telling you, unicorn magic makes us totally obsolete. Most unicorns I’ve seen can levitate or teleport, and that walk-on-clouds spell they cast is just icing on the cake.” “Ooh, you’re gonna love the cake!” she cried tangentially. Stylo clapped a hoof to his face. “I’m serious! I mean, how long have you been walking on these clouds?” She stopped and thought for a moment, adjusting her antlers. “Well, last night I went back to Ponyville… and I woke up Twilight and said, ‘Twilight! Your spell is wearing off and I need to get back to Cloudsdale to complete my master plan!’ And she said, ‘Pinkie, it’s one in the morning! And how did you get in my house?’ And I said, ‘No time! Clouds! Walking! Now!’ And I made a face like this!” She stretched out her face and bugged out her eyes. Stylo had moved closer and was listening intently. Watching Pinkie try and answer a serious question was like watching a spectacular train crash. “So she got up and said, ‘Fine, okay. But be careful! This spell will only get you through to the end of the DAAAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaayyyyyyyyyy…!” Stylo could only watch in horror as Pinkie abruptly fell through the cloud floor and plunged to the city below. --END OF ACT II-- > ACT III - Part I: The Plunge > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- --Act III-- Pinkie is plummeting to her death. “Oh! Oh no, oh what, oh-…” Stylo feverishly looked around for help, involuntarily hopping up and down. He was alone in Pinkie’s new rec center. Suddenly, not giving himself time to think twice, Stylo shot downward through the hole she had left. Careening down through the night air toward the soft light of the city below, he tried his hardest to keep his eyes open and scan the air for his falling friend. He quickly found her – a bright pink oblong sticking out amongst the black and blue. “I SEE YOU, PINKIE!!!” he yelled over the roar of the wind in his ears. He could see from up above that her wings and antlers had fallen off (‘I guess she wasn’t a real pegasus’, a little voice in the back of his mind quipped). He rotated his body and took aim, pointing his hooves out in front of him and frantically flapping his wings. He had kept them closed for so long that a great ache shot through them with each flap. He scarcely felt it. Slowly but surely, Stylo began to approach his target. Somewhere in the back of his mind he considered his current situation: pointed down, stretched out, flapping his wings harder than he had since he was a little colt. Water streaming out of his eyes, his coat fluttering madly behind him… this was exactly the kind of situation he had been trying to avoid all his life. And yet here he was. These thoughts were easily pushed aside. Stylo was now close enough to hear Pinkie’s terrified screaming as she twisted and turned through the air. “PINKIE!!!” he bellowed, this time eliciting a response. Pinkie ceased her yelling and turned her head, squinting in the direction the sound came from. She made out Stylo’s silhouette against the full moon. “HELLLLPPPP!!!” she cried out to the shadow, desperately stretching her hooves toward him. Urged on by Pinkie’s response, Stylo kicked his wings into overdrive. With a few mighty flaps he managed to reach her, tightly throwing his forelegs around her. “GOT YOU! I’VE GOT YOU!!!” he cried to her. “HAH HAAAHHH!!!” “STYLO!!!” she bellowed back, “YOU MADE IT! MY HERO!!!” The sound of the wind was still deafening in their ears. Stylo had never felt this alive. He could barely see, he could barely hear, and he was plummeting to the ground with frightening speed. He sensed some primal desire deep within him – perhaps some gene ingrained in all pegasi. This pony had wings, so this pony had to fly. He could just make out Pinkie’s big blue eyes in the moonlight. She wore an awe-filled grin on her face – perhaps stunned that Stylo had made such a daring rescue. Stylo had dived down through the hole without sparing a thought. Now, however, he had time to think. “PONYVILLE IS RIGHT BELOW US!” she called to him, “JUST SET ME DOWN ANYWHERE!” A creeping dread washed over Stylo. As he looked around at the night air rushing past him, Cloudsdale high above and Ponyville below, his exhilaration and excitement began giving way to fear. Stylo wasn’t a flyer. He never had been, not since he was very young. He tried to flap his wings again, but a searing pain surged through them. The muscles had practically atrophied after all these years. “AGH!” he cried out in desperation as he tried to slow their descent. “I CAN’T DO IT!!!” “WHAT?! WHAT DO YOU MEAN?!” “IT HURTS! I CAN’T!” Pinkie stared at him for a moment with curious eyes as she processed his words. “YOU CAN’T FLY?!” Stylo shook his head feverishly. “…AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!” Stylo pulled her close and joined in her bellowing. Together they would plummet to Ponyville. Together they would die. Stylo screwed his eyes shut and resigned to fate. He had tried his hardest to save Pinkie from the unforgiving gravity, but he was not cut out for this. If it had been Wild Fire or Rainbow Dash in that rec center, this rescue would have been boring. Pinkie wouldn’t even have time to scream before they scooped her up – probably having a casual chat with her as they drifted down to Ponyville. Stylo’s cramped wings taunted him as he fell. He hated them. He hated himself for never using them. He had sealed his own fate. His despairing thoughts were broken by the mare he clutched. “STYLOOOO!!! YOU HAVE TO FLY!!!” Stylo tried flapping his wings again. He was falling so fast that the slightest movement of his wings was greeted with unimaginable pain. “AAAAAHAHAAGH!!!” he bellowed, angry and desperate. “THINK!!! WHAT WOULD WILD FIRE SAY?!?!” Stylo opened his eyes, confused. “STOP LAYING AROUND AND HELP ME, YOU GOOD-FOR-NOTHING SACK OF-?“ “NO, NO! THAT THING WITH THE MIRROR!!!” His eyes widened. He clutched Pinkie more tightly than ever and looked up towards Cloudsdale – now a distant puffy shape in the night sky. He screwed his eyes shut and cried out. “I CAN DO ITTTTTTTTTTT-AGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!” Against his instincts and every cowardly thought in his head, Stylo began flapping his wings madly. The pain was unimaginable, but Stylo let it flow through his wings and back and out through his gaping mouth with cries of agony. He couldn’t even feel the wind, anymore. All he knew now was pain and his own shrieking. Time was grinding to a halt. Stylo knew he couldn’t take much more. He wasn’t sure if his wings would fall off or his head would explode. Just as he was about to give up, he felt something bump up against his lower hooves. He stopped screaming. Silence rushed into his ears and deafened him. He stopped flapping his wings, his back growing warm with a deep, hot ache. Taking a deep breath, he opened his eyes. He was standing in a small field just outside Ponyville. He suddenly realized how tightly he was clutching Pinkie. He pried his aching forelegs from her and stepped back, disoriented and buzzing with emotions. “YOU DID IT!!!” he heard a distant voice cry out. Pinkie was jumping up and down in celebration, but Stylo could hardly hear her. He collapsed on the ground, panting. “Oh, Stylo!” she bent down and tilted his head up off the grass. “I knew you could do it!” He couldn’t reply, opting instead to breathe. “Just let me go see Twilight and then we can get a ride back up to Cloudsdale, okay?” Stylo raised a hoof. “I’m sure she’s awake-AH! Oh no!” Pinkie looked in horror at a watch she was suddenly wearing. “It’s nine o’ clock! The party should be starting!” She looked down at the broken pegasus before her. “You have to go be with Cloudchaser!” Stylo groaned and tried to respond, but couldn’t get any words to form. “Think, Pinkie, think! What to do…” A Pinkie-brand lightbulb popped up above her head. “I’ve got it!” From out of who-knows-where, Pinkie produced a cannon. Without a moment to spare, she scooped up a withered Stylo and stuffed him in. He was too groggy to protest. “Don’t worry, Stylo!” Pinkie called down the barrel, “I’ll get you up there in a jiffy!” Stylo’s ears were abruptly filled with a deafening sound. He screwed his eyes shut as his body was flung upwards, back through the unforgiving air he had previously accepted death in. “GYAAAAAAAAAAGHHHH!!!” he cried out. He was so tired of flying. --- “Has anybody seen Pinkie?” Wild Fire was standing by the punch bowl as Trixie levitated a cup to her. “I’m sure she’ll be here soon,” Trixie replied, “She’s probably off preparing some silly party game somewhere.” “Mmm,” Wild Fire affirmed as she drank her punch. She stood in contemplation for a moment. What was Pinkie planning? Her thoughts came to a halt as something burst through the cloud wall next to her. “Gah!” she cried, almost spilling her punch. A familiar head was poking through the wall. It slowly tilted up and opened its eyes. “Stylo, you made it!” Wild Fire called to him. He turned to look at her and smiled weakly. “I can do it…!” he croaked. Wild Fire grinned. “Get out of that wall, silly! You’ve got to try the cake!” > ACT III - Part II: Science! > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- “I’ve been working on the Weather Team as long as I can remember. I normally work the night shift, but I started putting in more hours to help the Initiative. And you?” Cloudchaser asked. “Mm-hmm…” Stylo murmured. Stylo was resting his head on his hoof, gazing longingly into the pair of lavender eyes across from him. He wasn’t bothered by the noisy drone of the party, nor his terribly aching back. He currently had everything he needed. “…Stylo?” Cloudchaser called, her expression faltering. “Mmm… hmm? Oh! I, uh... what was the question?” Cloudchaser softly giggled. He loved it when she did that. --- Even after Stylo and Pinkie’s terrifying plunge to Ponyville, the party still managed to kick off without a hitch. Pinkie visited Twilight to have her spell renewed and promptly launched herself out of her own party cannon, breaking through the rec center wall roughly fifteen minutes after Stylo did. He requested they not raise a huge hubbub over his “daring rescue” – he didn’t want Pinkie blathering to all the pegasi that he almost got her - and himself - killed. She happily obliged, but only on the grounds that Stylo go hang out with Cloudchaser. She didn’t need to ask him twice. Pinkie was standing over by Trixie’s Mighty Punch Bowl, eagerly watching her party guests and having a chat. “Come now, Pinkie, why would you want to be a pegasus? Wouldn’t you rather be a unicorn?” Trixie began, filling Pinkie’s cup, “The magic, the culture, the power… I mean, Coat Guy over there said it himself, unicorn magic makes pegasi useless! Come to think of it… why is he wearing that coat, anyway? Isn’t it July?” Trixie looked across the room at Stylo while levitating the cup over to Pinkie, causing her to miss Pinkie’s hoof and pop the cup straight into her mouth. “He seems quite enamored with that pony across from him…” Trixie mused, “…Anyway, I won’t be staying for long. This party gives me a great chance to-“ “Bleugh flaagh!” Pinkie replied through the cup in her maw. “Whoops!” Trixie sang and pulled the cup out. “What did you say?” “Quack quack!” “Oh. Right.” She stuffed the cup back in. --- “So I nodded and said, ‘Those would be accurate observations.” “Hah haaaaahh!” Cloudchaser clapped a hoof to her mouth, “You didn’t!” “So then Rainbow got upset and she told me all the pegasi had to be ‘on the ball’ and all that. I told her we should all just go home, and she was like, ‘I guess you need some incentive to get you working,’ and bwoosh! She snatches my book away in the blink of an eye.” Cloudchaser was listening intently, eyes wide with anticipation. “And I just lost it,” Stylo continued, throwing up his hooves and leaning back. “Hah hah haaaah!” Cloudchaser choked. “I was flailing my hooves around like ‘No! What are you doing! That’s my life you’re running away with!’ I was being really silly, though… if I had just apologized to her and told her I’d work harder, none of this would’ve happened. But… live and learn, you know…” Stylo trailed off. He looked down at his hooves and nervously tapped them together. Cloudchaser looked away, watching the party guests. She giggled and shook her head. “…You’re funny,” she said softly, still looking away, “...I like you, Stylo.” Stylo’s ears perked up. “Heh…you… what…?” Suddenly a loud voice came through the speaker system. Pinkie had hopped up on the stage at the back of the room and was “speaking” into the microphone. “Alghfright, elfghrypoghdy!” she cried through the cup in her mouth. Hired DJ Vinyl Scratch quickly stepped over and magically pulled the cup out. “It’s time for a little Karaoke-lokie!” Cloudchaser stood up. “Oh! Let’s do it!” Stylo followed suit. “Okay!” He was fighting every brain cell he had with this decision. He hated parties. He hated singing. He hated getting up in front of other ponies. But he was willing to do anything if he could do it with Cloudchaser. He desperately hoped she never asked him rob a bank. Cloudchaser led him by the hoof through the hustle and bustle of the party. Ponies they passed quipped and cried out as they made their way to the stage. “Woohoo!” “Go Cloudchaser, yeah!” “Knock ‘em dead, man!” Stylo was reminded of his time in the cafeteria with Pinkie Pie. Entranced, he was shuffling along behind his shepherd as strangers flew by, headed to some unknown social destination. Except this time his back hurt and adrenaline was coursing through his veins. As they waded through the crowd and approached the stage, Stylo noticed that Flitter was already there. “Get out of here, Flitter!” Stylo thought angrily, “I have to fulfill my destiny!” Cloudchaser stepped up and spoke with Flitter. “Oh, did you want to sing?” Flitter’s eyes widened. “Are you kidding? I haven’t sung any karaoke in weeks! I’m way overdue!” Cloudchaser turned to her faithful sheep, “Sorry, Stylo, I don’t want to be a burden. Looks like you’re singing with Flitter!” Stylo’s anxious eyes grew dim with despair. Oh no. Oh no no no no no. He did not just narrowly escape death to sing karaoke with Flitter. Cloudchaser gave him a pat on the back (sending jolts of pain through him that he scarcely felt) and trotted back to her seat. Stylo tried to turn around and head back with her, but Flitter noticed his presence. “Oh… you’re singing too?” Flitter’s enthusiasm drained as she imagined singing with this coat-wearing creep. She stepped over to him and stuffed the microphone in his hooves. “All yours, pal,” she told him, giving him a quick shove up the steps and on to the stage. Stylo was mortified. Flitter walked back into the crowd of ponies, who began cheering and shouting at his presence. “WOO!” “Come on, let’s hear it!” “I like your mane!” He tried to force a weak smile, but couldn’t. His legs were trembling. Sweat poured down his face. His brain was screaming at his body to simply run off the stage, but the judgmental eyes of the pony crowd kept his hooves glued in place. A little voice in the back of his head mused that he seemed more frightened of embarrassment than death. He turned to his left and tried to signal to the DJ that he was unwilling. Vinyl raised a hoof, started the record, turned on the little lyrics monitor. The ponies cheered again as the music began playing. Stylo thought he might recognize the song, but was too terror-stricken to be sure. A catchy little melody played, followed by a bouncy beat. The song was rapidly approaching the first verse – far too quickly for Stylo’s liking. He swallowed hard, examining his throat. He was in no condition to sing. As the words appeared on screen and his time to shine began, he screwed his eyes shut and clenched his teeth, bracing for the livid booing that would soon fill the building. “Be gentle…” his whimpered in his head. He should’ve stayed in Ponyville. The verse began. “It’s poetry in motion!” Stylo opened his eyes. He didn’t sing that. The crowd erupted in another cheer. He turned his head in surprise and confusion. Cloudchaser was standing right next to him, singing into the microphone he clutched so desperately. Her eyes were closed and she was bent forward, her mane gently swaying as she bounced to the beat. Stylo was almost convinced she was an angel. “She turned her tender eyes to me!” Her voice was like honey – dark, but smooth. She turned to him with eager eyes, as if to say, “Your turn!” Stylo almost laughed at the parallel between the lyrics and the situation. Stylo recognized the song. He leaned forward and fearlessly sung the next line. “As deep as any ocean!” The crowd cheered again. Stylo continued. “As sweet as any harmony…!” He turned to Cloudchaser, who was grinning brightly. Stylo couldn’t help but smile, too. They sang the next line together. “But she blinded me with Science!” Stylo hunched over, adopting his best “scientist” voice. “She BLINDED me… with SCIENCE!” He heard laughter and cheers, but he might as well have been on another planet. For all he was concerned, he and Cloudchaser were the only ponies in existence. “…And failed me in Biology, yeah!” The remainder of the song passed by in a blur, over much too soon. Ponies would tell him afterward that he was practically glowing up there, and seemed to be floating a few inches off the stage. Whether or not he flew involuntarily, he couldn’t say. The hug Cloudchaser gave him after the song, however, was forever burned in his memory cells. > ACT III - Part III: Light and Shadow > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- “Okay, everypony… looks like the party’s over…” Pinkie seemed to be on the verge of tears as she spoke into the microphone. Rainbow didn’t want her workers staying up all night, so Pinkie’s party had met its end at the stroke of midnight. She suddenly brightened up. “But I’m sure we’ll have another one real soon!” She was probably right. All the ponies shuffled toward the exit, past countless strewn cups, decorations, and unfinished food. Stylo was there amidst the crowd, walking beside Cloudchaser. He felt happier than he had ever been in his life. He casually turned to his left and noticed that he was also walking next to Flitter. She noticed his presence and hesitantly turned to him. “That was… pretty cool, what you did up there…” she half-whispered to him, “You did that song justice.” Stylo grinned. “Pshhh, that was all Cloudchaser. I just said ‘Science’ a bunch.” Cloudchaser gave him a friendly punch on the arm. He giggled, shamelessly. Flitter couldn’t help but laugh a bit, as well. “Seriously, though,” she replied, “Good job.” Stylo was in heaven. He loved everyone. He loved Cloudchaser. He loved Flitter. He loved Pinkie for throwing this party. He loved Wild Fire for teaching him how to be motivated. He loved Rainbow Dash for dragging him up here. He loved all these ponies for making him have fun. He hated to admit it, but having friends was pretty exhilarating. Sure, his book and pen would always be his best friends, but their company was very subdued, and they were often dreadful conversation starters. Stylo had to do most of the work when he- “Wow, it’s freezing out here!” a voice from up ahead cried out, breaking Stylo out of his thoughts. “Yeah… yeah, it is!” “You’re not kidding!” “What’s going on?!” Stylo smugly buttoned up his heavy coat. As the pony crowd made it out of the rec center, it gradually dawned on everyone that it was, in fact, cold – much too cold for July. Stylo tentatively poked a hoof down into the cloud they all stood on; it was icy to the touch. “Rainbow! Come look at this!” a gold-haired pegasus was jumping up and down near the edge of the cloud. Rainbow quickly zipped over to her. “What is it, Raindrops?” “This cloud we’re standing on! It’s a… a snow cloud!” “WHAT?!” “Look!” Rainbow dashed over the edge and hovered beside the cloud. Sure enough, white, airy flakes were pouring from it like no tomorrow. “This is bad.” She looked down toward Ponyville. Small clusters of bright lights caught her eye. She squinted, trying to make out their source. Horrified, she realized what they were. “Oh no. We’re in trouble.” “What is it?” Raindrops flew down to see. “You see those lights? Those are torches. The ponies are protesting.” “Oh no…” “We’d better clear this up before they get angry enough to come up here!” Rainbow flew up to address her workers. “Alright, everypony! This is like a million times worse than we thought! Ponyville is protesting. We need to sort this mess out NOW.” Stylo watched her in awe. Rainbow was in the zone, commanding her helpless troops from up above, her lilac eyes burning brightly in the moonlight. Just that morning he would’ve dismissed her requests without a second thought. Now, however, he found himself absolutely captivated by her presence and willing to do whatever she asked. “Split up into four groups!” The ponies instantly did as they were told. “You! North! You! South! East! West! Go, go go!!!” The groups took off in a flash, motivated by Rainbow’s urgency and fueled by their own fear. Stylo found himself in the south-bound group, heading around behind the giant cupcake he had emerged from. His comrades dispersed in every direction, kicking and flapping at the cloud they stood on and any other clouds they could find. Stylo realized that Pinkie’s rec center wouldn’t survive this shift. “…stylo…!” His ears perked up at a distant voice. “YES?!” he called back. “…Stylo!” Wild Fire flew towards him, eyes wide with urgency. “I saw something! A-… a-a bright flash of light! Something really weird… over there!” she explained, trying to sort out her frantic thoughts. “Over there?” Stylo asked, stretching out a hoof. “Yeah! I think I saw some weird shadow floating around, too!” Stylo squinted off into the darkness. He couldn’t make anything out in the moonlight but clouds and frantic pegasi, but he took her word for it. “Okay. I’ll go take a look; you find Rainbow and tell her!” Stylo commanded. “Okay!” Wild Fire saluted and took off to the North. Stylo dashed away into the dark to investigate her findings. --- Stylo was alone, running as fast as he could through the eerily quiet night air. No other pegasi had ventured this far South, leaving Stylo on a renegade mission to find Wild Fire’s mysterious light and shadow. Wild Fire considered recruiting other ponies to help Stylo on his journey, but the prospect of making good workers waste valuable time on a potentially pointless mission kept her from doing so. So Stylo ran. And ran. And ran. He wasn’t an incredible runner by any means, but Wild Fire’s urgency had provided him with a steady supply of adrenaline for his journey, propelling him forward with great speed. He ran bipedally – pumping his forelegs back and forth by his chest as his back legs carried him on. Little fillies and colts had always giggled at his strange posture throughout his childhood, but Stylo insisted that life on two legs was better than life on four. He felt it made him look more sophisticated; more cultured. He felt superior as he towered over his schoolmates at recess. As he sprinted off to his unknown destination, he couldn’t help but wonder if he should have stayed on all fours. He was always slower than his schoolmates, but he wasn’t sure whether to blame that on his posture or his apathy. The thought that he might be letting his fellow pegasi down over a silly life choice worried him, however. Stylo’s breathing became quite heavy. He began worrying that his journey was for naught, and that he was wasting time out here in the middle of nowhere. Fortunately, these thoughts didn’t last long. “…There!” Stylo stopped running and crouched down, panting. He saw it. A bright flash of light, just on the other side of the cloud mound in front of him. He kept low, waiting to see it again. “Where are you…” he breathed, waiting patiently. A few seconds passed. Flash! Again, in the same spot. It wasn’t lightning. Spurred on by nervous curiosity, he peeked over the cloud. Down below, he saw a shadowy figure darting this way and that, examining the clouds. His mouth fell open as he watched the figure channel some strange energy into the clouds, punctuated by a bright blue flash. No doubt about it – that was powerful magic. This thing was the cause of all these unexplainable weather patterns. Urged on by his momentous discovery, Stylo flung himself over the cloud and slid down to confront the figure. “YOU!” he cried, sliding right to the culprit and angrily pointing a hoof. “Me?” The figure turned to him, face obscured by the shadow of a dark hooded cloak. It was clearly female, and possessed a low, brooding voice. “You’re the one causing all this!” Stylo spat. “Yes, it seems you’ve caught me,” the mysterious mare replied, “But do you not see that by convicting me… you have forsaken your element of surprise?” “Yes! But… oops.” Stylo analyzed the situation. He had just carelessly confronted what was obviously a powerful unicorn with no weapons whatsoever to defend himself. Not one of his brighter moments. “HAH!” the figure cackled, suddenly firing a bright red bolt of energy out of her horn. Stylo only had time to blink before taking the bolt in the face, sending him backflipping through the air. He finally met the cloud ground after a few flips, crashing down on his aching back and wings. “Haa-AAAGHH!” he cried out. The cloud was soft, but his battered wings sent stabbing pains at the slightest touch. He cradled his head in his forelegs – his face felt like it was melting off. The hooded mare mercilessly continued her assault. She levitated his broken body off the ground and pulled him towards her outstretched hoof with a flick of her horn. His face met it with tremendous speed, sending saliva flying out of his mouth and his body crashing back down to the ground. Stylo cracked his eyes open in a daze, making out the blurry outline of his assailant above him. She stood over him and pointed her horn down at his chest, unleashing a burning stream of energy into him. “AAAAHHHH-HAAAAHH!!!” He couldn’t help but cry out again as his insides coursed with heat and pain. He felt like he was being cooked alive. The mare stopped shooting magic into him, opting instead for a much more physical approach. She scooped him off the ground and braced his head with her hoof, giving him three swift punches in the face. She then whirled around and delivered a mighty kick with her back legs, catching Stylo square in the stomach and sending him flying backward. Stylo couldn’t breathe. He coughed and wheezed as hard as he could, desperately trying to fill his lungs. Dread began creeping in through the pain. She was going to beat him to death right here. He had narrowly avoided death’s icy grip just a few hours earlier, but now she was back and ready for round two. And he wasn’t. The mare walked over and scooped up Stylo’s battered body again, cocking a hoof for another round of vicious punches. “Mmm-hmm-hah-hah-hah…” she cackled, staring into his punch-drunk eyes. Without sparing a thought, he shot a hoof forward and threw her hood back. A familiar face stared back at him. > ACT III - Part IV: The End > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- “…Trixie?!” Stylo choked. She brushed her mane out of eyes and grinned devilishly back at him. “But… you could… you could hardly clear the clouds away…” Trixie leaned forward, filling his field of vision. “Hah! I was faking, you fool! Walk-on-clouds spells are for AMATEURS! I simply put on a helpless act so nobody would suspect me of foul play!” Stylo closed his eyes. Was this really happening? “Well… I can’t say I’m not impressed, Stylo. You caught me in the act! But now you know too much about our plan.” Stylo cracked his eyes open. “…Our… plan?” Trixie’s expression faltered. “Shoot. Now you know WAY too much about our plan! No matter! I just have to knock you out with something good and strong. Don’t worry, I won’t kill you. You’ll just wake up in your little home with no memory of what happened. You and all the other pegasi on this silly cloud will bear witness to the Ponyville Revolution!” Trixie threw Stylo’s mangled body away and crouched down, charging an immense magic in her horn. Stylo tilted his head up and squinted through his swollen eyelids. A bright light was growing in front of her, blinding him with a red glow. “Prepare for Trixie’s Ultimate Laser Beam Attack of Destruction!” Stylo’s pupils shrank to the size of pinheads. “YAAAHHH!!!” Trixie let her laser beam loose with tremendous force. Bright red ripples of energy shot in all directions as the blinding light careened toward Stylo. As a desperate last-ditch effort, Stylo yanked his mirror out of his pocket and hid his face behind it. The magic laser reflected off the mirror and shot back toward Trixie. “Wha-?!” was all she had time to say. The Laser Beam Attack of Destruction hit her square in the face, exploding in a bright flash of light and sending her flying to the edge of the cloud pit. Her body came to rest at the far end, slowly sliding to a stop. She was smoking like a chimney. Stylo simply lied there for a few moments, trying to process what just happened. He could barely see or think. He soon heard a commotion taking place above him. He heard… hooves and voices. “Do you see anything?” “He can’t have gone too far…” “I don’t-… LOOK! Down there!!!” “Oh, dear Celestia!” Stylo heard them slide down into the pit and felt hooves on his chest. He squeezed his eyes open to see Wild Fire above him. “Oh, Stylo…! Can you hear me? I-… I’m so sorry…” Wild Fire bent down and hugged him tightly. Stylo was still reeling, but knew just what to say. “It was Trixie…” he croaked, “Trixie caused all this… weather…” Stylo closed his eyes again. He heard Wild Fire call out. “RAINBOW! STYLO SAYS THAT TRIXIE WAS THE ONE MESSING WITH THE WEATHER!” “What?! Really?!” Rainbow zipped over to Trixie and smacked her in the face. “WAKE UP!” Trixie moaned. She sat up, pointing a hoof in Stylo’s general direction. “…Hah! Nice try... St-... Stylo! It’s gonna… take more than that… to put… Trixie down…!” “Shut up. Is it true, Trixie? Did you cause all this?” “I had… good intentions…!” “DAGH!!!” Rainbow smacked her in the face again, livid. Pinkie, who had been standing nervously over by Wild Fire, rushed over to her. Rainbow was shaking Trixie furiously. “Why, Trixie?! Why did you do it?! What were you thinking?!” “You’re gonna scramble her brains!” Pinkie shouted, desperately trying to restrain her furious friend. Rainbow finally ceased her shaking. Trixie sat up and rubbed her temples as she regained her bearings. “Ohhhh…” Trixie took a deep breath before explaining herself. “I… I did it to sabotage the pegasi. Once the ponies rose up in anger at the Weather Team, I was going to expose the poor work ethic of the pegasi and lead the revolution to overthrow them. All the townsfolk would hail me as a hero and remember me for my good deeds!” Rainbow pressed her hooves against her forehead. “Trixie, I TOLD you… pretending to be good and being good aren’t the same thing!” Trixie put on a weak grin. “Small steps?” Rainbow felt sick. This stupid betrayal had come from nowhere and made no sense. “I still don’t understand…” Rainbow replied, eyeing Trixie curiously, “…why now? What made you do this?” “An excellent question,” Trixie began, standing up and cradling her aching face, “…why don’t you ask her?” She pointed an accusing hoof in Pinkie’s direction. Pinkie gasped in horror. “Hey! That wasn’t part of our plan! I didn’t say anything about a revolution, I swear!” Rainbow slowly turned to her friend with wide eyes, shocked at her confession. Stylo sat up, wondering if the conversation he was hearing was a dream. Pinkie looked over at Rainbow and sighed. “Okay, you caught me. I told Trixie to mess with the clouds. It’s just… you’re always so tired from flying back and forth between Cloudsdale and Ponyville all day that I don’t get to hang out with you very much. I tried to come up with a plan to keep you in Ponyville, but I couldn’t find enough piano wire. So I asked Trixie to go stir up some storm clouds and keep you in Cloudsdale. If you and the Weather Team had to stay in Cloudsdale, you’d have no choice but to come to my parties and have a good time with me!” “She promised me notoriety!” Trixie interjected, “She said that if I used my magic on the clouds for her, she would spread nice stories about me back in Ponyville.” Pinkie nodded. “Trixie really wants to be nice! But I DIDN’T SAY ANYTHING ABOUT A REVOLUTION!!!” She lunged over and eyed Trixie accusingly, who smiled back weakly. “Okay…” Trixie explained, “I guess I got a little carried away. Old habits, blah blah blah.” “A LITTLE?!” Wild Fire called to her, “LOOK WHAT YOU DID TO STYLO!!!” Stylo, with Wild Fire’s help, struggled to a standing position. The two of them shuffled over to Rainbow. “I’m okay…” Stylo groaned. “Just a little…” He waved his hooves around in an extravagant gesture, motioning to various parts of his body. “…yeah.” Trixie waved a hoof at him. “Sorry!” Rainbow closed her eyes and breathed a heavy sigh. “You just… wanted to hang out with me?” Pinkie nodded and smiled anxiously. “Pinkie… you’re my friend. If you really wanted to spend more time with me, you could’ve just told me. I would’ve made the time.” Pinkie sniffled. “Really?” “Of course! I mean, yeah, I take a lot of naps, but it’s not easy maintaining this level of awesome. It wouldn’t kill me to thin out my schedule, though.” “YAY!” Pinkie lunged forward and hugged Rainbow tightly. Wild Fire, Trixie, and Stylo couldn’t help but smile. Stylo suddenly felt enlightened as he watched the friendly embrace unfold before him. These two had an incredible friendship – so incredible that Pinkie formed evil plots focused solely on spending more time with her friend. Ever since graduating from Elementary school, Stylo had assumed superiority over his brutish colleagues and neighbors. Here in a pit of clouds, however, as he watched Pinkie and Rainbow hug in the darkness, he found himself taken aback by the compassion and understanding on display. There was so much more to these ponies than he had ever anticipated. He turned to Wild Fire, who gave him a look of concern. He nodded to her and held out a hoof. She grinned and bumped it with her own. “Let’s get out of here,” he requested. “My face hurts.” She motioned Stylo on to her back. He hopped up and collapsed onto her as she gently flew him back to civilization. “Well, I’m glad everything worked out!” Trixie quipped, clapping her hooves together. Rainbow and Pinkie broke their hug. “Yeah, about that…” Rainbow replied, stepping away from Pinkie, “You two caused my team an awful lot of trouble.” The two troublemakers began sweating nervously. Rainbow whirled around and jabbed a hoof into Trixie’s chest. “And YOU assaulted one of my workers!” “Yeah! What’s up with that?!” Pinkie bellowed. “I didn’t want to… he was compromising our… he was…!” Trixie was nervously hopping up and down. “Come on,” Rainbow commanded, cutting her off and grabbing her hoof, “Let’s get this mess straightened out.” “Ohhhhhhhhhhhhh…” Trixie groaned as they headed back. --- Stylo slept very soundly at the Cloudsdale Hospital. Fortunately, he didn’t sustain any serious injuries from Trixie’s assault, but according to the doctor he looked “chewed up and spit out” – especially his wings. He prescribed him various painkillers, and suggested he “rest up for a while”. Those words were music to Stylo’s ears. The next morning, Captain Rainbow Dash gathered all of her workers in front of the WTPI housing for a debriefing. “My fellow pegasi! These past few days have been confusing and chaotic for us, but our weather problem has been solved. After resolving a little… miscommunication… Pinkie Pie and the Great and Powerful Trixie have come forward and confessed to tampering with the clouds. As such, they will be assigned to SUPERVISED cloud-clearing duty for the next week to help sort out the mess they made. Now that we’ve got this straightened out, however… I am releasing all impromptu Progress Initiative recruits from duty.” Whoops and cheers went up from the crowd. Stylo grinned, squinting through his black eyes. “So get out of here, you freeloaders!” Rainbow teased, flying back down to cloud level. The crowd dispersed as the pegasi went to fetch their things. Stylo had already gathered all of his possessions – his book, his pen, his coat, his mirror, and his lightbulb. He wasn’t passing up any souvenirs he could take from this debacle. As he waded through the crowd he stumbled into Pinkie. “Stylo!” she cried out, resisting the urge to hug him tightly, “How… how are you feeling? Are you broken again?” Stylo let out a healthy yawn. “I’m alright.” “Oh, thank goodness!” she replied. “I’m so sorry I got you hurt. I never told Trixie to-!” “It’s fine, it’s fine, no harm done,” Stylo interrupted, waving his hoof, “You’ve taught me more than you could ever imagine.” Pinkie grinned brightly. Wild Fire suddenly darted over from behind her, waving to them. “Stylo! I was going to come pick you up!” “It looked nice outside…” he explained, rubbing his head, “I… thought I might go for a walk.” She chuckled. “You must be feeling better.” She stepped over to him and put a hoof on his shoulder. “You’re a brave guy, Stylo. It was an honor serving with you.” She gave him a salute, which Stylo triumphantly returned. “…I can’t wait to get back to Ponyville,” he groaned, lowering his aching foreleg. “Whelp, now that you Initiative recruits aren’t working anymore, I’ve got to work overtime cleaning up the mess this one caused!” Wild Fire announced, smirking at Pinkie. Pinkie raised a hoof. “M-my bad!” Wild Fire looked Stylo in the eye. “Will we ever get to hang out again?” He thought for a moment. “…I hope so.” She smiled and readied for takeoff. “Well if you ever need a good pep talk, you know who to call!” She gave one final salute and flew away. Stylo somehow felt sure that they would meet again, soon. “Hey, Stylo!” A heavenly sound was caressing his ears. He turned around to see Cloudchaser standing next to him. “Cloudchaser!” he replied, shamelessly excited. “Ooh, ooh! Stylo and Cloudchaser, my karaoke singers! You guys need to stick around for my party, tonight! We’re celebrating me and Trixie’s conviction!” Pinkie squealed. Stylo and Cloudchaser giggled. “Sorry, Pinkie, but I think I’ve done enough partying for a while,” Stylo replied, “My head is… ouch.” Last night’s beating seemed to have stripped him of his poetic prose. “I really wanted to visit you at the hospital last night,” Cloudchaser explained, “but Rainbow Dash insisted that we leave you alone. She said you needed some quiet time.” Stylo smiled. Thanks, cap’n. “I think it was incredibly brave of you to confront Trixie like that. If it weren’t for you, we might’ve been clearing these clouds for years to come!” Pinkie raised a hoof. “My bad!… again!” Stylo smiled even wider, blushing at Cloudchaser’s kind words. “I’ve been meaning to ask you something,” Cloudchaser began, looking up to meet Stylo’s dreamy gaze, “Would you be willing to move in with me?” Stylo froze, his smile disappearing. He must have misheard. “Wh-wh-but…” he stammered as he desperately tried to form a coherent thought, “…what about Flitter?” “Oh, she wouldn’t want to live with me,” she replied, scratching the back of her head, “I’d be dragging her down. She’s the type who likes to have people over, and throw house parties, and be sociable… you seem like you appreciate the quiet side of life. I hate living alone, but I just need some quiet company. You’d be cool with that, right?” Stylo couldn’t feel his legs. He was going to melt into a puddle right in front of her. Cloudchaser noticed his frozen stare. “I-if it’s too much of a commitment, I understand. It-it… it was a dumb idea. You don’t have to-“ “No! No! Yes! Yes! I’ll do it! I’ll move in with you!!!” Stylo cried out. His eyes were wide as dinner plates. “Yessssss!” Cloudchaser cried, pumping a hoof, “Thank you so much! The emptiness of that house was driving me crazy.” “I can go right now! Let’s go home!” Stylo requested. “Oh, wouldn’t you like to get the things from your old house?” Cloudchaser asked. “Mmm? Oh, there’s… there’s nothing-…” “I can move your things for you!” Wild Fire called into his ear, cutting him off. He whipped around in surprise. “Go see your new house! You’re stuff’s all in boxes, right? That’ll be no problem!” Wild Fire looked surprisingly eager. “How did-… you know?” Stylo was stunned. “Rainbow told me everything! I was going to come visit you after you left, so I asked her for your address. If you’re living with Cloudchaser, though, then you’ll be living right next to me!” She scooped him up and hugged him in the air. Stylo was sore, but seeing her so happy made him happy, too. “We’ll be starting a wing workout routine first thing next month! We’re gonna get you in shape!” she cried, squeezing him even harder. “Ohhhhhhhhh-… hoo-RAY…!” he choked out. “Go on, you two!” She set him down and took off for Ponyville, leaving him and Cloudchaser to start heading home. Stylo turned to Pinkie. She wore that familiar look on her face – that impossibly large grin of jubilee. Panic suddenly washed over him. Pinkie knew that he was in love with Cloudchaser. She could spill the beans right now and ruin everything. What if Cloudchaser was repulsed and never wanted to see him again? Oh, Pinkie! Keep that trap shut! Pinkie looked ready to burst. Stylo covered his ears. “What are you waiting for?! Go see your new house!” she cried. Cloudchaser laughed. “Come on, Stylo! Everybody wants us to go home! Let’s fulfill our destiny!” A pleasant warmth grew in Stylo’s chest as he began trotting away with the love of his life. Making friends, motivating himself, battling the villain, leaving with an angel… he had at least three poems to write about all this. As they left the dingy little rows of cloud huts behind and walked off into the sunrise, Stylo couldn’t help but admire Pinkie’s self-restraint. He thought for sure she wouldn’t have been able to contain herself. Maybe there was more to that bouncy mare than met the eye. She had been the mastermind behind the entire evil operation, after all. Maybe underneath the layers of sugar and perpetual motion a massive intelligence was growing, just waiting to be- “Please don’t break him!!!” Pinkie called after them. Cloudchaser turned to Stylo, amused. “Don’t what?” Stylo nervously smiled. “It-… it’s nothing.” --THE END-- Born from dust in a quiet chamber Lit by words and phrases Light and color swept him up Sans pleasantry or praises Scrape his heart against the wall As fire tests his mettle A burning Sun will light the way Before he tries to settle The glowing Moon will soon emerge With gravity most pleasant Burn the book – smash the pen And pull him to the present Cast him in, blind him with Science Deafen him with love Don’t look down – the life of Stylo Fell from up above "Eh, that'll do for now," Stylo remarked, putting down his little black book and stretching out on the couch. Sleep began to take hold of him. "That'll do... for now..."