> Violet's Scrap Folder. > by Violet Rose in The Rain > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > A Hearthwarming's Eve Play > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- The sky up far above the brick-red train was now a mish-mash patchwork of coal-coloured clouds, almost as if it was a gigantic sieve that allowed the occasional snowflake to fall through down to the earth. The only thing that prevented the winter’s chill from fully penetrating the train carriages was the decent amount of heat that came from the train’s engines and the friction from the train’s multitude of wheels gliding on the steel tracks. “Hey, Button Mash. Mind passing me another blanket? I’m freezing over here.” Emphasis on the “not fully penetrating part”. Button only grunted as he passed a scarlet blanket towards Babs’ outstretched hand, his eyes poring over a battered, emerald book with all of its dog-eared, scribbled-in pages. “Ya ain’t going to sleep yet, Bee-Mash? It’s almost night time, y’know. That, and you haven’t even touched your dinner.” A cheek nudge indicated the open plate of food that laid before Button’s distracted face and the book he held in his hands. Button Mash shrugged. “Hnngh.” Babs sighed. Her eyes traveled over to the snow-laden, barren landscape that lay outside the warm safety of the speeding train. A distant call from the car journey she had made from Canterlot, all those years ago. Unbidden, images of a sun-lit, tree-filled field flew to the forefront of her mind. Her eyes went back to Button Mash, still poring over the book as if it were some sort of precious jewel to be studied, understood and refined. Perhaps it was one, to him. “So,” she began. “Which part are you on?” “The part where the protagonists sets foot in Epicentre city for the very first time.” Mash mumbled. “The physical and emotional reactions to the things they see and hear about the city is important as it hints towards some aspects of the protagonists’ personalities.” Babs exhaled through her nose. “Well, when you’re done, Shake Spear, you better eat your dinner. It’s probably as cold as the air-conditioning air.” Button grunted again. Of course, the chances of him putting the book aside to eat his dinner are as likely as the chances of the train they were traveling on to suddenly lift off the tracks and fly the rest of its way to Canterlot Station. Canterlot… Babs sighed. Her eyes moved over to the other side of the carriage, where an azure-haired girl sat nervously beside a purple-haired adolescent that towered over Babs by a head, skittishly sketching away at a rough design of a suit. Babs pouted. Poor Coco Pommel. Button Mash was studying and calmly observing the book with slow, deliberate movements with little to no distraction. Coco, on the other hand, fidgeted around as she drew dress designs with trembling fingers, every now and then stealing sideway glances at Suri Polomare who was staring outside at the bleak scenery with a finger and a thumb on her chin, like a nervous child searching for the rare, twisted approval of a feared mentor. Babs’ nose wrinkled at the sight. With Coco Pommel slaving away at the dress designs at Suri’s mad whims, Suri herself watching over the three of them like a bird of prey, and Button Mash ignoring the world (and the tension between members the Manehattenite team) itself to focus on the play, Babs wondered, not for the first time, if this was what she considered stuck-up, lonely intellectuals talked about when they referred to when they were, for lack of effort to think up a more eloquent phrase, “surrounded by idiots”. This had better be a good Hearth Warming’s play. Babs tugged at her collar. Cheerilee studied the relatively fresh troupe of actors and actresses that stood and mingled before her. Tension was at a high, now that they had been selected to act in the school’s second biggest play of the year, and the stress from being pressured to act well manifested itself with several signs; most of which were subtle, like the unnatural pull at the edges of the lips that Rumble had, the lisp that Twist had grew more pronounced with every passing minute, or the way Pipsqueak conversed more politely than usual to the rest of the troupe with a tightened jaw.  “Hey, watch where you’re going, chicken!” And some were more straightforward, like the occasional outburst. “Well, if it isn’t the pink, snotty brat with her toy crown!” Scootaloo massaged the back of her right shoulder as she glared at her sworn enemy. “Maybe you should watch your surroundings instead of standing around like some entitled, spoiled princess, Dickhead Tiara!” “Hmph, I guess you’re right, Scootaloo. I should shift aside when you fall, because apparently chickens can’t control how they move!” Tiara smirked. Time to step in and stop this madness. “Quit it!” Scootaloo screamed. “Okay, children. Stop it!” Cheerilee strode in between Diamond Tiara and swung her arms outward until both her open palms were facing opposite directions, giving the both of them hard glares. “I know that all of you are a little bit stressed out by the fact that your class has been selected for the second biggest play of the year, and that it’s no easy task, but that’s no reason to go around picking fights with your classmates! You should be ashamed of yourself, breaking up and fighting when all of you should be working together!” Diamond Tiara snorted. “A little, Miss Cheerilee?” Cheerilee tossed her an even nastier glare. But given the simmering tension, she wasn’t surprised by the way Diamond Tiara returned the gesture. Better defuse the tension fast. “All right, class. Since everyone is tired from attending the awards ceremony and the collaboration briefing, I guess we better go through this fast. Tomorrow, at one in the afternoon sharp, we meet back here in our homeroom and decide who gets what role for the upcoming play. Right now, I’m going to hand out the scripts,” Cheerilee tiredly shambled to her table and grabbed a stack of papers. “And all of you are to go home tonight and read the story.” The classroom was a temporary flurry of activity as every student ached to get their hands on a copy and the whole debriefing over with. Flip! Flip! Went the sound of paper being grasped. “Alright, class dismissed!” Cheerilee announced, the words a sickly-sweet string that hung out from her tongue. For the first time in living memory, the two bullies and the Cutie Mark Crusaders agreed on one thing: the ending of an all-day activity was really sweet and awesome. “Whoo!” Scootaloo fist-pumped. “Feels good to be free! Look out, Video-Game city!” Sweetie frowned. “But we’re not totally free. I mean, we still have that reading assignment Miss Cheerilee gave us. And not to mention the fact that we have to decide what character personas we have to take up by tomorrow afternoon!” Applebloom sighed. “Not to mention the fact that we’re tired.” Scootaloo waved an errant hand. “Who cares, Sweetie Belle? We can read the script all we want once we start acting. And we should go for minor, supporting roles; I think we’ve earned ourselves a break!” Applebloom shook her head. “Ah don’t know, Scootaloo. What if Miss Cheerilee asks us what characters we want to be without specifying which character is a major character and which character is a minor character? You could end up as the main character, and Miss Cheerilee doesn’t allow take-backsies on important stuff like this!” Scootaloo made a snorting sound. “I’ll just ask some other classmate, I guess. I can’t even think properly! C’mon, an acting competition, the awards ceremony, and a briefing on a theatre collaboration with some dumb school from Manehattan? I’m surprised Snips and Snails didn’t faint from sheer mental exhaustion halfway through!” she extended her arms out fully. Sweetie Belle frowned. “Hey, that wasn’t very nice. I’m sure the both of them tried their best in the acting competition.” Scootaloo rolled her eyes. “Yeah, because the accidental stumblings and out-of-character stupidity of the scientist’s assistants were totally in accordance with the script. C’mon, if they have the energy for boring stuff like observing boring bugs for several hours, they should totally be able to act out their minor roles for a play at the very least.” “But I don’t care about that now,” she continued. “I’ll go off first, okay?” Scootaloo waved an arm at them as she ran off to her scooter at the school wall. “See ya!” Sweetie and Applebloom could only stare as they watch Scootaloo slowly wheel off into the distance. One can only go so fast on a foot-propelled scooter. “Hmm-mmph.” Applebloom cleared her throat. “Well, I guess ah better go first. See ya tomorrow then, Sweetie Belle.” Sweetie nodded. With a twist of her heels, she strolled off in the direction of her own house. > Thunder Among The Clouds. > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Thunder among the clouds [Draft] “Aww, it’s okay, Thunder.” Cloudchaser gently stroked his head. “I’m sure we’ll get a good present for Blossomforth in no time.” Thunderlane lowered his head as he loosened his fists, allowing them to relax. “We could buy the book ‘Taking care of flower buds’ that Blossomforth always borrow from the library.” Cloudchaser suggested. “I’m sure she’ll like it.” Thunderlane’s lips quivered as it parted to reveal his teeth, nervously straining itself into a thin crescent of a smile. “Or we could buy some pumpkin seeds.” Flitter suggested.