Rockets & Rainbooms

by PhycoKrusk

Rating: teen
Tags: Griffons, Slice of Life, Alternate Universe, Human, Main 6, Minotaur, Original Character, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Spike, Profanity
Length: 16160

After a 'high-speed ballistic experiment' goes awry, human-turned-pony Skitch-Sketch is finally forced to interact with the world at large.

Shortly after being forced to confront numerous personal demons, life complicates further for Skitch-Sketch when a UFO (unguided falling object) crashes at Sweet Apple Acres.

Weeks after that, it's time to return that object to its owner, the mysterious Jacoby Flynn, and decide if the world outside of Equestria is any more accommodating than Equestria is outside of Ponyville.

Another story in the Skitchverse.

Published 2013-12-11 03:00:07 UTC
Last updated 2014-01-17 06:41:24 UTC

The Day Of

“He’s late!” Pinkie Pie exclaimed, nervously pacing back and forth. “He’s late! He’s late! How long should we wait? Oh, why is he late?”

“Pinkie!”

The sound of Skitch’s voice snapped Pinkie back to reality, to the mid-morning where she and her closest friends, including Spike, were waiting in a small clearing in Sweet Apples Acres. It was the place that Skitch had determined was ideal for the meeting Pinkie was fretting over, because it was, in her own words, ‘easy to spot from the air and almost impossible to overlook.’ It was the day that they would finally meet the mysterious Jacoby Flynn, whom each of them had known only by name, since five weeks prior when an experiment of his gone awry and sent a streak of light and sound crashing into the clearing they were standing in.

“Griffondorf is over four thousand miles away from Ponyville,” Skitch continued. “It’s one thing to take the train to Canterlot, or go flying to Cloudsdale. But when you’re talking on this scale, you can’t expect to show up anywhere exactly on time. He probably had to charter an airship and everything for this trip.”

“I know, Skitchy, I know, I know,” Pinkie said back with no small amount of upset, wringing her mane like a dish towel. “But what if he’s not here today? What if it takes until tomorrow, or the day after?” Suddenly, Pinkie gasped. “What if he doesn’t see my sign and misses Ponyville completely?!"

The others all turned and looked at the sign Pinkie had made for the occasion, 'WELCOME TO PONYVILLE’ painted out in ten yard-tall block letters.

“Pinkie, ah feel pretty confident there ain’t no way, but no way that Skitch’s boyfriend is gonna miss yer sign,” Applejack said in an effort to reassure her.

"He is not my boyfriend," Skitch half-snarled. "He is a colleague who very much enjoys science and engineering, and is an actual rocket scientist to boot, which I guess is considered hot among some humans. One day, I hope to count him as a friend, but he's not yet, and he's definitely not my boyfriend. The last thing I need right now is a boy or-“ She briefly directed her glare towards Rarity- “A girlfriend." As Skitch finished, Rarity was left to quietly wonder exactly what she'd done.

"Oh, I do hope he's nicer than the last griffon, Fluttershy said before clamping a hoof over her mouth, "Oh, I'm sorry, Rainbow Dash. I forgot...."

Rainbow Dash simply waved off the remark, although a keen eye may have noted the momentary hesitation in her wing beat. "It's fine, Fluttershy. Besides, this is Skitch-Sketch we're talking about. She's got a good head on her shoulders. Totally not gonna fall head-over-hooves for some bozo."

Skitch acknowledged Rainbow Dash's remark with a glare, but otherwise decided to leave it alone. "I'm sure he'll be very nice, Flutters. Remember how polite his letters were?"

"I certainly remember how polite and well-written they were," said Rarity, adding her opinion to the pile. “Perhaps his first was a bit peculiar, though….”

Geehrte Empfänger/Dear Recipient:

Wenn sie innerhalb der Hoch Bundesvereinigung der Flügel, glückwünsche. Sie haben ausgewählt als teilnehmer in unserer “High-Speed-Ballistische Geschosses Experiment." Wir entschuldigen für alle schäden die durch unserer geschosses verursacht, und bieten unser beileid wenn es versehentlich verletzt oder getötet jemand in der bereich. Wenn gefunden, senden bitte ein mitteilung an die beiliegende adresse, und wir werden so bald wie möglich erreichen, um ihn zu entnehmen, zahlen für schäden und haben Ihr foto für die zeitungen gemacht.

If you are without the High Confederation of Wings, we apologize. Our “High-Speed Ballistic Projectile Experiment" has gone awry, and our projectile has traveled further than anticipated and intended. We apologize for any damage it may have caused, and offer our condolences if it has inadvertently injured or killed anycreature in the vicinity. If found, please send notice to the enclosed address, and we shall arrive as soon as possible to retrieve it, pay for any damages, and compensate you for your trouble.

Aufrichtig/Sincerely,

Jacoby Flynn
“Jake”

“But I suppose that’s to be expected, given its, unusual method of delivery. Oh, what do you imagine he must be like? The gentlestallion scientist, pushing the very boundaries of knowledge in pursuit of worldwide peace, but in desperate need of a companion to stave off the icy talons of a lonely heart? Oh, it's like something out of a storybook."

"That's because it is something out of a storybook," Skitch retorted. "Specifically, out of that penny dreadful you hid on top of the armoire where you were sure Sweetie wouldn't find it. Which she totally did, by the way, so thanks for that incredibly uncomfortable conversation about why a stallion would want to plow a mare's verdant prairie."

When Rarity stopped breathing and her face turned almost the same color as her mane, Skitch figured they were about even. "Besid-"

“Shhh!” said Pinkie Pie suddenly. “Shhh shhh shhh shhhhhhh! Listen!” As if to further demonstrate exactly what she meant, she leaned towards the northeast, cocked her head, and raised a hoof up to her ear, all in a very exaggerated manner. Especially since raising a hoof to the ear had not been proven to assist hearing in any fashion, by anypony, ever. But nevertheless, the others could not deny hearing something, like a distant, droning buzz that steadily grew louder.

And then like a dive-bombing pegasus, an airship zoomed through one of the cloud banks in the sky towards the earth, leveling out and swinging its nose sharply to the right to bring it in line with the stretch of clear ground that Pinkie’s welcome sign had designated as an impromptu landing zone, its agility surprising for something that didn’t look terribly agile. Halting its descent just above the tree line, the buzz from the ship silenced for a moment and then resumed, rapidly rising to a deafening roar as its drew closer and reversed its engines, coming to a near stop almost directly overhead. Four heavy anchors dropped to the ground, marking the earth with their weight, and then marking it further as pitons plowed through the ground with the loud bang of impact hammers driven by compressed air.

The gondola they dropped from resembled less the hard-lined, industrial designs common in photographs and drawings of airships, and more a naval sloop, although with a lifting envelope rather than sails, and no cannon ports. Griffish writing was proudly hammered into the darkened steel bands that were riveted around the wooden hull, and it very likely could have passed for a pleasure ship of a some noble from a far off land were it not for the fact that its beauty was entirely in its design and engineering, rather than decoration, and that it was so fast. The name painted on the front of the hull, DIE TRAUER STERN only added to its majesty.

All seven ponies (and one dragon) stood gaping at the craft floating in front of them, until Rainbow Dash broke the silence: "If Skitch really isn't going for this guy then dibs.”

Further remarks were halted when a rope and plank ladder rolled down from the airship’s deck, and with methodical, clunking steps, what was very obviously not a griffon, but a minotaur began descending to the ground below. Rainbow Dash swallowed hard. “O-on second thought….”

With some degree of trepidation, the ponies and dragon approached, stopping just before the minotaur as he stepped onto the earth and turned to face them, looking even larger than Princess Celestia at her most regal. The two-piece suit and tie he wore only made him look all the more massive: Talk that would later spread around town would describe him as ‘forty hooves tall and twelve hooves wide.’ His expression was passively guarded as he regarded the ponies before him, although he did quirk his brow when he regarded Skitch.

It took a not-insignificant amount of willpower for Skitch to keep her mouth closed. She’d known minotaurs were taller than ponies, but at that moment, she felt like a ten-year old human standing next to a linebacker. Like an elf standing next to a troll. Like a… well, like a pony standing next to a minotaur. "Mister Flynn. You're, uh...." He was what, exactly? She wracked her brain at light speed for an answer. "Markedly larger than I imagined?"

"I'm Stonehoof," the minotaur stated before raising a thumb and jerking it up towards the airship. "Flynn's still doin' post-flight."

"Oh," Skitch replied. "Uh, well, then. We'll keep waiting?"

"Yeah, sure." And then, the minotaur resumed looking passively guarded.

Several moments of awkward silence passed, and then, perhaps sensing an opportunity, Rarity stepped forward.

"Well, Mister Stonehoof, I must say that it is an absolute pleasure to make your acquaintance. My name is Rarity, and I simply must compliment you on your impeccable sense of fashion-"

A single, raised finger shoved into her face halted any further words. "Hold that thought," replied the minotaur as he turned his attention upwards. "Yo! Your Excellency!"

"Was ist los, Herr Stonehoof?" came a reply from above.

"Come down for a minute, would ya? There's a pony here who's dying to meet you.”

A few moments of relative silence passed. “Vell, if you’re certain,” came another reply, “Alzough I can’t being to imagine vhy….”

A moment later, a griffon leapt over the side of the airship and gracefully glided to the ground, landing next to the assembled group. For a moment, the ponies (and dragon) wondered if perhaps Rarity’s vision of the ‘gentlestallion scientist’ was correct as this was perhaps the most dapper-looking griffon any of them had ever seen, wearing a spread-collared white shirt that was probably made from silk, with a cranberry red cravat around his neck and held in place with a pearl pin, a charcoal grey vest atop those, and a black frock coat atop that. The talons on his feet were all covered with chased silver caps, and a white boutonniere adorned his coat. They wonder if her vision had been correct, at least, until the griffon opened his beak and removed all doubts from their minds.

“Fräulein,” he said, gesturing to Rarity. “Your mane!”

“Darling!” the unicorn replied, gesturing back to him. “Your clothes!”

And like that, they were off, both excitedly chattering with each other about fashions and styles and season this and bespoke that and this definitely wasn’t Jacoby Flynn so everyone else promptly lost interest in the conversation.

“I guess it was a good thing he came along after all.” Accompanying the newest voice from above, a second griffon touched down by the group, dressed much less ostentatiously in a sensible, dark grey three-piece suit and navy blue necktie, the latter of which he paused for a moment to straighten. Or maybe it wasn’t,” he added, when he realized that two chatterboxes weren’t about to slow down or stop. One deep breath later, the piercing shriek of an eagle silenced all voices, including those that had yet to start up with him, and pulled all attention right where he wanted it.

"Well, I believe introductions are in order," Jacoby said. "As you may have guessed, I'm Jacoby Flynn, and I see you've already met my close friend and my second, Alexios Stonehoof."

The minotaur waved in greeting, impassive as he has been. "Hey, how's it goin'?"

"And it seems you may have also met our dear friend and occasional financier, His Excellency, Count Hänsel von Vergoldetflügal the Third."

"A pleasure to meet all of you," said Hänsel with a bow.

"A Count?" said Rarity with sudden concern. "Oh my, and here I was just talking your ear off about trifles."

"Zere are no trifles ven it comes to dress, fräulein," replied Hänsel. "Excesses, certainly, but never trifles.”

“And there will be plenty of time to discuss those later, I’m sure,” said Jacoby, looking to Skitch somewhat expectantly.

It took her a moment to pick up on her cue. “Oh! Er, that is, I’m Skitch-Sketch, and am largely responsible for this particular gathering of creatures here today.” For the briefest of moments, Skitch could swear that Jacoby’s eyes narrowed after she introduced herself, but it would have been so slight and happened so quickly, it was more likely that she just imagined it. "And with me are my dearest friends. Our resident brain, Twilight Sparkle.”

“Hello!” Twilight said cheerfully.

“Daredevil extraordinaire, Rainbow Dash.”

“‘sup?” asked Rainbow Dash.

“The Sultana of Style, Rarity.”

“Absolutely charmed,” said Rarity with a curtsey.

“Ol’ Reliable herself, Applejack Apple.”

“Guten tag, und willkommen auf Sweet Apple Acres,” said Applejack.

Everycreature present froze at that and cast a very critical eye over the farm mare, he just kicked at the dirt a little sheepishly. “So ah spechren a li’l Griffish, so what?”

After another moment of silence, Skitch launched right back into things. “Applejack Apple. And the mare behind her is Fluttershy.”

Fluttershy said nothing, but peeked around Applejack to see who was where. She ducked back immediately after, and Skitch just laughed nervously before clearing her throat.

“And next, the pony responsible for the giant banner that likely gave our position away, Pinkie-“ was not where she had been a moment ago- “Pie….”

“Oh, Pinkie, don’t-“ Fluttershy started to say when she realized the pink one had separated from the herd and was having a rather heated staring contest with Alexios. Anything else Fluttershy to say, however, was silenced when Jacoby raised his talons to indicate she should stop.

“No. Don’t interrupt.”

As quickly as he could, the griffon fished out from one of the pockets of his jacket what looked to be a large, stem-wound pocket watch with two extra stems, which he promptly opened and started fiddling with. Silence fell over the whole assembly as they all intently watched the exchange between Pinkie and Alexios unfold (except for jacoby, who was intently watching the device in his talons). Seconds stretched on for a full half-minute before Pinkie suddenly said, “Good talk.”

“Word,” replied Alexios.

Unfortunately, there were exactly none of those that could adequately explain what just happened.

“And what would introductions be without introducing Spike the Dragon?” Skitch asked in the frantic hope that Pinkie hadn’t just divided by zero. She heard an irritated huff from Jacoby as he put his device away.

“Hi!” said Spike cheerily, waving his claws in greeting.

“I zink I speak for all of us ven I say zat it is an absolute joy to meet all of you,” Hänsel said.

“And I don’t want any of you to think I disagree when I say on to other business,” Jacoby added, “But there’s something that’s weighing pretty heavily on my mind right now that I’d really like to put to rest?”

Applejack chuckled. “Ah’m th’ same way when something’ ain’t sitting’ right with me,” she said before pointing a hoof towards a tarp-covered pile, not far from them, “She’s right over there.”

Jacoby was in the air almost before Applejack even finished speaking, his short flight to the tarp looking more like an exaggerated leap than anything else. Like a fledging unwrapping a gift on his birthday, he grabbed the tarp with both talons and pulled it off mightily.

Underneath was a huge, fifteen yard long ‘cigar' covered in thin plates of polished steel that were riveted together, with four large fins at one end. Runes had been hammered all up and down the body, and although they looked mundane, at one point they shined brightly with magical light. It was badly scratched and even slightly bent, but had been enough intact that Skitch had no trouble identifying what Applejack had found in the clearing one day five week prior: Jacoby Flynn had built and launched a long-ranged rocket that needed serious work on its guidance system.

“Unglaubhaft,” Jacoby said once he’d had a moment to take in the sight. He turned back to Skitch as she and the others came up to join him. “You were right. It is mostly intact. Much more than I could have ever hoped, even after your letter.” He turned to Applejack. "And, I know I’ve written it several times, but I want to apologize again for everything. Especially for any undue distress from lacking information.”

Dear Mr. Jacoby Flynn:

We have recovered the rocket used in your “High-Speed Ballistic Projectile Experiment,” and I can report that, without making a detailed observation of its plumbing and mechanisms, it appears to have survived with relatively little damage. That being said, not one of us is happy or in any way pleased that it fell to us to recover your rocket at all. Although nocreature was injured, one could have been. Furthermore, it landed in an apple orchard, and I have advised the owners that the area it fell, and a large area around it, should be closed and kept off-limits until we can determine the extent of contamination by unburned propellent or oxidizers.

Please retrieve your rocket as soon as possible. In the meantime, please advise us on steps to take to reduce the danger posed by the fuel. The reservoirs do not appear to be compromised, but we have been unwilling to risk exposure.

Sincerely,

Skitch-Sketch

“Well, Ah reckon we kin let it slide this time,” said Applejack, wearing a serious frown. “But only cuz nopony got hurt, an’ only cuz nothin’ got poisoned, an’ only cuz I know yer a decent enough griffon that ya won’t be droppin’ any more surprises on us. Ah’m dead serious, Mister Flynn. Do not do somethin’ like this again. Next time one o’ yer contraptions lands anywhere we kin see it, we’re tellin’ th’ Princesses.”

“I understand completely.” Jacoby turned back to the rocket. “It’s most important that nocreature was hurt. Especially your sister and her friends.” Again, he looked back to Applejack. "Did they really try to see if they would get their marks for rocket science?”

The orange mare nodded once.

“Huh.” Jacoby looked back to the rocket. “Well, maybe if they were supervised. With a much, much, much smaller rocket."

“Perhaps you can answer zeir questions about rocketry, show zem how it functions vonce you have it off ze ground,” Hänsel suggested.

Jacoby nodded. And then after a moment, turned about to give a rather threatening look to the other griffon. “What do you mean once I have it off the ground?”

“Herr Flynn, ve discussed zis at lengz,” Hänsel replied. “You are here for ze rocket. I am here for ze Canterlot market quarter, terms to vich you agreed readily. Alzough I must confess I now hold hope zat Frau Rarity may vish to accompany me.”

“Me, Your Excellency?” Rarity asked, momentarily shocked. She recovered quickly enough. “Why, I would be delighted to accompany you to Canterlot-“

“Now hold on a minute!”

All eyes turned to Rainbow Dash. “You can’t just go running off to Canterlot with some guy you just met!” she exclaimed. “I mean, you just met him!”

“Um, I think Rainbow’s right, Rarity? I mean, you have great judgment about everything I’ve ever known you to have a judgement about, but running off to Canterlot with some guy you just met has ‘Stranger Danger’ written all over it.” It was perhaps a wholly uncharacteristic questioning of Rarity's judgement that earned Spike a long, confused stare from the unicorn.

Again, she recovered quickly enough. “Now, just listen here. I am adult, and if I want to go running off to Canterlot with ‘some guy’ I just met, that is my prerogative!"

"Nein, nein, zey are absolutely correct," Hänsel said before Rarity could say anything else that she might regret saying later. "One of ze most important duties of any creature is to protect ze honour und virtue of zeir friends. Herr Spike? Frau Rainbow Dash?" The griffon turned to face fully and dipped into a bow. "I vould be honoured if ze two of you vould accompany myself und Frau Rarity on our visit to Canterlot."

Neither pegasus nor dragon had words for a few moments. "Well," Rainbow Dash said finally, "If you'd be honored. Which it totally makes sense that you would be. I mean, I'm Rainbow Dash, the fastest and coolest thing with two wings."

"Perhaps zen you can show me on ze vay. But for now-" the griffon made a show of turning around dramatically- "Ve go. To ze nearest bank, I mean. I have only Griffish talons, und shall need some pocket money before ve go furzer.”

“Oh, I know just the place,” Rarity replied as they started off on their way to Ponyville proper, Rainbow Dash happily keeping pace. Spike hesitated for a moment, raised a claw and opened his mouth to voice an objection, and then promptly gave up and hurried to catch up.

It was several moments after they’d left sight before Twilight realized what had just transpired. “He just left with my assistant!”

“Never mind with a unicorn whose help we could have really used!” Jacoby added. “The rocket weighs almost five tons!"

“Well, you all have fun with that,” Alexios said, adjusting his grass hat. “You ready, Pinks?”

“Sure am!” exclaimed the perpetually perky party pony, her tropical print t-shirt a perfect match for the minotaur’s. With a solid fist/hoofbump, they turned as a pair and began wandering away from Sweet Apple Acres themselves.

Jacoby stared at them for several seconds, and then opened his mouth to ask a question. No words made it out before he felt a hoof resting on her shoulder. He turned her head to look at Skitch, who shook her own in a solemn, serious manner. Recalling a certain incident just a few weeks prior, Jacoby pushed the question from his mind and tried to forget he ever thought of it.

"Reckon ah oughter be on m' way, too," said Applejack. "Trees ain't gonna buck themselves, never mind th' fence that needs mendin'. But if'n y'all need some muscle fer a quick spell, give a holler, an' I'll come a runnin’."

“I should be going too,” chimed in Fluttershy meekly, “It was very nice to meet you, Mister Flynn, but I can’t be gone too long from my animal friends. And, um, your airship was pretty loud, and that’s probably good, I don’t know much about airships, but I think it may have scared some of them. So, I should go make sure they’re alright. Um, if you don’t mind, that is.”

It was clear from her barely concealed cringing that the pegasus was expecting an extreme response, but Jacoby just smiled warmly. “Of course I don’t mind, Miss Fluttershy,” he said. “Maybe we can meet again later, if you’d like.”

“Oh, that would be lovely, I think,” she said with a smile. “It was nice meeting you again, Mister Flynn. Goodbye Twilight, goodbye Skitch. I’ll see you all later.”

Fluttershy’s departure was otherwise quiet. “A very nice pony,” Jacoby observed after a moment, “A bit too quiet, a bit too shy for such a lovely face, but a very nice pony indeed.”

“I certainly think so,” added Twilight, “And I really do want to thank you for being so gentle with her, Mister Flynn. Her last encounter with a griffon did not go positively.”

“Hey, you two have realized that now it’s just the three of us moving the rocket, right?” Skitch pointed out. Several seconds of awkward silence passed before Jacoby acknowledge that he was, in fact, aware of that particular development.

“Scheiße!"

Later…

Legal Tender was one of a long line of Ponyville bankers, ever since his grandfather had first started with little more than a shed and a safe when Ponyville was still young. He’d seen all manner of things in a bank as he grew, and had seen even more once he became president, but would have conceded on any day that there was probably plenty he hadn’t seen.

The list of things he hadn’t seen, however, grew shorter when he found himself sitting at his desk, with a warmly smiling griffon and unicorn sitting across from him, as if it were the most normal thing in the world. “I want to be certain I understand the situation, Count von Ver… goldetflügal?” he said. Foreign names always gave him trouble, but when the griffon nodded to indicate that he was correct, he continued. “You’re planning to make a day trip to Canterlot, but only have Griffish money, and so would like to exchange talons for bits, so that you can complete any purchases you might wish to make?”

“Zis is precisely vat I vish to do,” Hänsel replied.

“Yes, I see.” Legal Tender took a calming breath, and then pressed on. “As much as we do wish to encourage tourism, I’m afraid we won’t be able to help you in this instance. Currency exchanges are available only for those who hold an account with the bank.”

“Well now, Mister Tender, that hardly seems fair,” Rarity said.

“Now, now, Frau Rarity, it seems sensible to me,” Hänsel interjected before the unicorn could get any further. “Herr Tender surely knows vat is best for his bank. Und if exchanges can only be performed for zose viz an account, zen clearly ze only course of action zat is open, is to open an account!” Without flourish or further ado, he reached into his jacket and withdrew a small, leather purse and produced a small stack of non-Equestrian currency. “I trust zat zis vill satisfy any minimums?"

“Well, that, uh…” Legal Tender was put-off by the coins on the table in front of him. Even if it was non-Equestrian currency, he could see that characters stamped on these coins indicated they were worth far more than a single unit of currency. He recovered quickly enough. “That’s certainly enough to open an account. There’s still the issue of identity verification-“

A few more talons dropped onto the desk with a satisfying clink of gold.

“-Which has already been accomplished, since it’s clear that Miss Rarity is willing to vouch for you. Then, there’s the affidavit of non hostility by a foreign national-“

Clink

“-But that’s more of a formality than a strict requirement. Then, you’ll need to fill out the formal application for a checking and savings account-“

Clink

“-But I can fill that out for you!”

As the transaction progressed and the bank’s president became more excited, the tellers began moving through the own transactions with greater and greater haste. Finally, they slammed the cages of their tills shut and the security officers sprang into action, all but shoving the customers out the door, locking it, and flipping the sign from ‘open’ to ‘closed.’ In one swift motion, Legal Tender opened a drawer of his desk and, shoving his hooves and head in, produced two crystal tumblers and a bottle of brandy. In another swift motion, he’d poured Hänsel and Rarity each a short glass and replaced the bottle in its drawer.

“Your Excellency,” he began, “I would like to formally welcome you to the Community Bank of Ponyville. In addition to your new checking and savings accounts, perhaps you might be interested in contributing to our Money Market Fund?"

Meanwhile...

A coil of rope was dropped into a pile with several others, bringing the total length of available rope just north of one hundred yards. And most likely, it wasn't going to be enough.

As one, Jacoby, Skitch, and Twilight sat down on the dusty ground, a bit harder than any of them intended to. As one, they all looked from the rope, to the rocket, to the airship, and then back to the rocket. As one, they all started to reach the same conclusion: "Fffff..."

"Ficke."

"Fuck."

"Phooey."

Jacoby and Skitch looked at Twilight, who looked back at them sheepishly. As one, they all realized that one of those words was not like the others.

Also meanwhile…

Pinkie Pie counted up her bits once again. So many bits, all brought to her by asking Alexios if he was capable of any ‘strengths of feet.’ After he suggested that she may have meant ‘feats of strength,’ the game was on. She would claim he could do something that sounded absurd, ponies would wager that he couldn’t, and he would proceed to prove them wrong.

Pinkie wasn’t counting her bits because she was greedy, mind. She was counting them because negotiations over the next feat of strength had gone awry, and Alexios had taken it upon himself to handle them. But finally, she stopped counting and started listening, because it sounded like things were getting interesting as Alexios finally clarified exactly what the challenge was.

“You want me to do handstand push-ups, on one finger?” he asked the muscle-bound pegasus with comically small wings.

“YEAH!” came the reply.

Alexios stared at the stallion that had been earlier identified as Snowflake, and then shrugged his shoulders. “Sure, alright. Pinks, you get all that?”

“Yepperoni!” the party pony exclaimed. “Five handstand push-ups on one finger. Success sees twenty bits to Alexios Stonehoof and company, failure sees twenty bits to Snowflake van Liefeld.”

Snowflake glared up at Alexios. “We doin’ this?” he asked.

“Oh yeah,” Alexios replied with an almost manic grin. “We’re doin’ this.” He took several steps back, and then suddenly launched into a handspring, although he aborted the ‘spring’ part and left himself standing. Carefully, he shifted his weight to one hand, and then back to the other after curling all but one finger into a fist.

One came easily enough.

Two saw a labored grunt from Alexios.

Three took longer to complete as the toll from pushing several hundred pounds of minotaur up on a single finger started becoming apparent.

Four was hard. Very hard. Going back up was a full ten second struggle for Alexios, and it was very apparent that he had to fight the urge, however briefly, to use both hands.

Five… nearly saw the minotaur collapse, and only a quick jerk of his head kept his horns from touching the ground (which likely would’ve counted as a forfeit). But he recovered, and pushed. His biceps and triceps bulged, steam shot from his nostrils, and at least three mares and one stallion swooned at the sight. Finally, he straightened his arm completely, and quickly tumbled back to his hooves, trying vainly to rub the fire and numbness spreading through his muscles.

The crowd looked on in silence. And then, Snowflake zipped over to Alexios, grabbed his hand, and raised it high into the air.

“YEAH!”

And the crowd went wild.

More later…

“First class!” Rainbow Dash shouted as she stretched out on the bench seat she’d claimed in the large, private suite aboard the Friendship Express. “I’m calling it now. Nothing beats first class.”

“Well, there’s something to be said for coach, too!” Spike said, sitting on his own bench seat and making sure he looked like he wasn’t especially enjoying it. Prior to leaving Ponyville, he took some time to change into a suit of his own, even if it was a bit tight around the chest from not having been worn in some time. He reasoned he may as well make an effort to dress up a bit because they were going to Canterlot (and not at all because he was trying to upstage Hänsel).

“Like what?” Rainbow Dash asked.

“Uh, well…” The dragon wracked his brain. There had to be something. “Well, it’s a great opportunity for pony-watching! I mean, you never know who’s going to get on the train. And besides, as nice as first class is, what’s the up side? So you get some more space to yourself, it doesn’t get you to Canterlot any faster."

“Oh really, Spike. It may not be faster, per se, but surely you can agree the added comfort makes it seem faster,” Rarity said, enjoying a bench of her own. “Although those tickets were quite pricey. Are, you sure there’s nothing we can do to make it up to you somehow, Your Excellency?”

Lounging on the last bench, chuckling and waving off the question, was Hänsel. “Fräulein, I’m going to Canterlot, already having ze time of my life, viz a beautiful mare, anozer beautiful mare, und a dragon dressed more spectacularly zen I could have dreamed even ze vildest of dreams. How could I not get tickets in first class?”

“The Count’s right, Rarity,” chimed in Rainbow Dash again. “Kick back and enjoy the ride. This is gonna be the best. Day. Ever.”

As the others struck up conversations, Spike folded his arms across his chest and grumped. He was the only one who seemed to notice.

A tiny bit more later…

Alexios and Pinkie had elected to spend some of their hard-earned cash at Sugar Cube Corner, and just a short while after introducing the minotaur to the Cakes (who were both excited to meet a minotaur and nervous about how much one might be able to eat), were sitting at a corner table, happily slurping down soft drinks.

“Aaaah,” they said in unison when they stopped to take a break from the tough work of happily slurping down soft drinks. “Root beer."

An even tinier bit more later…

Somewhere, somehow, even more rope had joined the pile, although exactly where Applejack had found it was a mystery that would remain unsolved for some time. Not that it mattered. With almost two hundred yards of rope, there was now enough to enact some kind of plan.

“Thanks for letting us use these pulleys, Miss Apple,” Jacoby said to the earth pony with a nod. “We should be able to get it now.

“Shoot, t‘weren’t nothin’,” Applejack replied. “But are ya sure y’all don’t need any help? I can take a break an’ lend a hoof.”

“Thanks, Applejack, but I think we’ve got it. We already took enough time away from your chores with waiting earlier, never mind the, uh, ‘incident’ at the school you had to attend to.” Twilight was careful to not ask for any details about that incident. Largely for fear that it might necessitate a story that would introduce further delays for all creatures present.

“Do we?” Skitch asked. “Got it, I mean. We have a lot of rope, some pulleys, and that block and tackle that Jake brought with him. How exactly is that going to help?”

“I still say you moved to nicknames too fast,” Twilight silently grumped.

“Fear not, dear Skitch, for I have a cunning plan to lift all nearly-five-tons of this rocket up high enough to be safely attached to die Trauer Stern,” Jacoby replied. If he heard Twilight’s comment about nicknames, he didn’t acknowledge it.

“Really?” Twilight asked, suddenly standing beside Jacoby and giving him a start. “I love cunning plans! How cunning would you say this one is?”

A few moments of quiet passed until Jacoby had composed itself. “Why, it’s so, cunning, you could put ears on it and call it a fox?”

“Oh, that’s cunning.”

A few more moments of quiet passed. “Twilight,” Skitch said finally. “Maybe you want to, I dunno, give him a little space?"

Only then did Twilight realize that she was encroaching into Jacoby's space in a fashion that might be considered 'rude,' and promptly backed away. "Sorry!" she said a bit too excitedly. "Sorry. It's just, my foalsitter used to have 'cunning plans' when I was a filly and they were always great fun. I guess I got a little carried away with nostalgia. Sorry."

"Oh, it's fine. It's better than fine!" Twilight's earlier enthusiasm apparently being infectious, Jacoby was now sporting a wide smile of his own. "The last time any creature was that excited about one of my plans was...." The griffon trailed off, although the expression on his face looked less like he'd forgotten something and more like he had meant to forget something. "Well, it's been a long time. But anyway, I'm going to need your help with this cunning plan. Yours too, Skitch. Miss Apple, care to join us?"

But Applejack had already slipped away, spurred to leave by the nagging half-certainty that whatever 'cunning plan' had been dreamt up, it was not going to end with a favorable outcome.

Much more later…

For many months, a certain lone milk jug had sat undisturbed on top of a certain lone boulder on the outskirts of Ponyville. It must be noted that this was not for the lack of trying by local colts and fillies to knock it from its perch with an assortment of thrown objects (mostly rocks). Eventually, even the adults tried their luck, and none of them had succeeded. Even Lyra Heartstrings, regarded by some as the best rock thrower in Ponyville thanks to her unusual, upright stance, hadn’t succeeded. So difficult and seemingly impossible was the task of knocking that lone milk jug from that lone rock, that the jug had been christened, ‘The Untouchable.’

But no reign is perfect, or truly lasts forever; everything crumbles, given enough time. And that is why scores of local colts and fillies, and even several of the adults of Ponyville had gathered at the ‘throwing line,’ a small line of rocks on the ground ten yards away from the jug. Standing at that line was one Pinkie Pie, still wearing that red, tropical print t-shirt. She’d tried to hit the jug too, and like everypony else, had failed. But it was not Pinkie Pie they were there to see. It was her companion, the large, muscled minotaur in a matching tropical print t-shirt, wearing a loosely-bound grass hat, tossing a small stone up and catching with one hand, who was decidedly not from Ponyville. For several long moments, he looked at the jug, sizing up his competition. And then finally, he caught the stone and did not toss it up again.

“Alright,” he said darkly. “We’re doin’ this.”

With the flare of a professional baseball player, he wound up and then pitched, the stone streaking away from his hand like a comet. It flew fast and true, slamming into the side of the jug with the force of a freight train…

… and ricocheted off towards the stratosphere, leaving the jug to stand exactly where it had always stood, unblemished.

All eyes watched as the rock disappeared into the sky, moving towards Sweet Apple Acres with speed that seemed quite unreasonable.

“Yeah?” said Snowflake, who, like every other creature present, wasn’t quite sure what had just happened.

Seconds after that…

"Mister Flynn, are you sure this is safe?" Twilight asked. The target of her concern, and what had prompted her question, was the probably too-complex system of ropes, pulleys, blocks and winches that she and Skitch had helped cobble together into a lifting assembly, with tension held on the rope using their magic. This was Jacoby's 'cunning plan.' In theory, they would only need to apply a bit more force, and the rocket would be easily winched up to die Trauer Stern's belly, at which point Jacoby would tie knots and secure it in place until he was ready to release it.

Now that they had it setup and ready for the task, however....

"Twilight's right, Jake," Skitch said in agreement, "I'm not trying to doubt your skills as an engineer or anything, but this has 'Bad End' written all over it."

"Ladies, don't worry," called the griffon from the airship's deck. "I know it looks unorthodox, but this is a good plan, based on sound principles of engineering. It's completely safe."

As if reacting to his words, a small stone came streaking down from the heavens and ricocheted off one of the pulleys, causing it to slip free suddenly. The rope stretched from it struck Jacoby in the chest, somehow binding up his legs and wings (a mystery that, years later, would remain unsolved) and throwing him over the side of the airship. His fall was immediately arrested and he began slowing down. Moments later, he realized to his great concern that he was slowing down because the assembly worked; the sudden movement had begun lifting the rocket up just as he predicted, even if the unicorns had been startled into dropping their spells. In mere moments, however, the rocket would lose the fight with gravity and fall again, and that would transfer a great deal of kinetic energy into him through additional movement: At the bottom of his fall, where he stopped mere inches above the ground, he was essentially riding on a gigantic rubber band.

“This was a mistake."

The rocket fell and the lifting assembly sprung back, flinging Jacoby Flynn, still bound up in rope and unable to fly, into the air on a ballistic arc like a bullet that could scream in self-soiling terror.

Skitch and Twilight could only stare in mouth-gaping horror as Jacoby went crashing right through the roof of the barn with no small around of noise. Several seconds passed before either of them were able to collect their wits enough to streak towards the barn themselves at a full gallop.

“Jake!”

The barn doors flew opened. Skitch hadn’t even bothered using magic; a swift buck had done the job just fine. A look around didn’t reveal much more than clouds of dust and hay floating around in the dimness. “Jake, where are you?” At once, she hurried inside, her horn lighting up with magic, with Twilight immediately following her in and likewise producing light to dispel the gloom. “Jake?”

“Mister Flynn?” Twilight asked weakly. And then, she saw it. “Over there!”

Skitch turned to see her companion hurrying over to a pile of rubble that consisted mainly of wooden planks and bits of tin of the exact sort on the barn’s roof. “Jake, are you under there?” she asked as she trotted over.

“My clavin….” said the debris pile weakly.

“Well, this is great,” Skitch said with an irritated huff, “Now, we’re down one of our brightest minds, and we’ll have to fix the barn. Oooh! A pox on that Count and our supposed friends! I’ll bet they’re having the time of their lives upon Canterlot."

Milliseconds after that…

Rarity couldn’t be certain exactly when anything went down. Neither could Rainbow Dash or Spike. But something had gone down, whenever it was that it went down. One moment, a rather stallions had leapt from the shadows, intent on mugging them. The moment after that, that same stallion was unconscious on the ground, and Hänsel was gingerly rubbing his knuckles. It all happened so fast even Rainbow Dash didn’t have time to get her hits in before it was all over.

“Oh my… Your Excellency!” the unicorn shouted, rushing to the griffon. “Are you alright?”

“Ja, fräulein,” he answered, returning to a normal, casual stance. Immediately, however, he raised his right talon off the ground. “But if ve could find a cup of ice, I zink it vould be best to do zat. Zis, gentlestallion? Ja, gentlestallion, he has a very zick skull.”

“Yes, of course.” Without wasting so much as a moment, Rarity leaned into Hänsel’s side, and he happily accepted the support she offered, now that he had only three good feet. “There’s a café not far from here. Ice should be a simple order for them. Oh, I do hope nothing's broken.”

As unicorn and griffon walked away, Rainbow Dash and Spike continued to stare at the three stallions that Hänsel had so easily dispatched. After a moment, Spike shook free of his daze and gave chase. “Wait! Shouldn’t we at least call a guard or something? Or maybe an ambulance?"

Rainbow Dash, however, continued to stare, running over the encounter in her head several more times. Finally, she shook herself out of her daze and took to the air to rejoin the others. Maybe this Hänsel guy was kind of cool after all, if a bit quick to start throwing punches.

Back at the ranch…

Jacoby groaned as lavender light filled the barn, debris carefully floating off of him in Twilight’s magical grasp. While she dealt with that, Skitch busied himself checking on the griffon. “He looks pretty hurt, Twilight,” she said, “We really should get him to the hospital….”

She trailed off as additional groaning came not from Jacoby, but from the support structure of the barn. “Twilight? Any chance you could-“

And then the whole thing collapsed.

Even much more later…

Night was beginning to descend on Ponyville by the time those on the excursion to Canterlot finally returned, saddlebags and satchels filled with acquisitions of clothing (what little there was that caught their interest), but also some hard cheeses, two bottles of fine, red wine, and even a box of coarsely ground ‘black lava salt’ which Hänsel fully intended to use for cooking as soon as he was able to (that he could cook at all came as a surprise to Rarity, who was impressed that a noble would bother with it at all, as well as to Spike and Rainbow Dash, who were impressed that a noble could even grasp the core concept of cooking, although that assumption may have been unfairly biased due to past events).

As they walked further into Sweet Apple Acres, Hänsel cast an appraising glance to die Trauer Stern once they were close enough, and smile widely. “Ah, as I zought, zey vere perfectly able to raise up ze rocket. Wunderbar. Zis vill put Herr Flynn’s mind at great ease. Or, at greater ease zan it has been, at least.”

“They actually got that thing up there?” Rainbow Dash asked nocreature in particular, disbelief evident in her voice. “Wow! Flynn must be pretty smart. I’ll bet something that big took him and Twilight like, all day to figure out! Heh, hope Skitch isn’t the jealous type.”

“Now, Rainbow Dash, that is hardly fair,” Rarity said scoldingly, “If you’re going to tease the poor dear, you should at least have the sense to do it when she can hear you. Where’s the fun, otherwise?”

“Well, I think I see ‘em up on the front porch,” Rainbow Dash replied, flitting through the air and around to Rarity’s side, “So why don’t we just go on over and then tease her?”

“I still say we should’ve called an ambulance for that guys,” Spike said, trying to redirect the conversation while balancing several of Rarity’s (and one of Hänsel’s) bags on his back, “I mean, I’m sure the guards will, but he got clobbered pretty good. He could really be hurt!” After a moment, Spike realized that the other three had gone on ahead without him and probably not heard a word he’d just said. With a frustrated stomp, he hurried after them, managing to keep all the bags from falling over with a level of skill possessed only by a superb assistant or professional henchdrake.

The approach went smoothly enough. But it was when the quartet arrived that things took a turn south. All four of them did a double-take, Rainbow Dash actually having to land because her wings stopped working. Things had clearly not gone well in their absence.

Fur and feathers alike were smeared with dirt and grease. Jacoby’s chest and talons were wrapped in bandages and one hind leg was splinted. The fact that he was no longer wearing any pieces of his suit, which he was loath to do even during physical labor, seemed to suggest that all of them were far beyond saving.

Skitch had what looked like a black eye that was not content with its size or shape and had expanded to cover almost half of her face with a bruise visible even under her fur. No less than twenty bandaids scattered about her body spoke to various nicks and cuts she had somehow obtained.

Twilight almost looked OK, save from some charring on the tip of her horn. Or she did, until it became clear that somehow the colors of her coat and mane had become switched around and jumbled, and while the result was probably not painful, it did look extremely goofy.

“By Celestia’s gilded hoofshoes!” Rarity exclaimed, “What on earth happened to you all?”

“Nothing!” shouted all three at once. The urgency in their voices and manic look in their eyes indicated that they may have been lying.

Not that anycreature was about to say anything about that. “Vell, it’s good to see zat you vere able to get ze rocket attached to die Trauer Stern,” Hänsel said instead. “I zink zat ve should celebrate viz a large dinner, und perhaps some vine as vell, alzough perhaps ze zree of you should have ze vine now?”

The silent, smoldering glares that were prompted by that particular remark were more than enough to convince Hänsel, Rarity, Rainbow Dash and Spike that rather than waiting for an explanation, they should simply go inside of the Apple family house.

They did so in record time.

Author's Note

Initially planned as a single chapter one-shot, I decided to break it up into two and finally three chapters because it flowed better, and also because I wasn’t really keen on writing a single chapter of more than 20,000 words.

Not certain if a weekly updated schedule will be kept here (I managed it with The Other Jake, yes, but it kind of killed me), but I will give it my best effort.

Also, there are some changes coming to the Skitchverse group soon, so be sure to keep an eye out for those. Some of you may find it interesting.

The Same Night

After the mess with the rocket, after supper, and after the sun had set, Skitch laid down on a low hill, looking up at the stars and the infinite possibilities they carried with them. There was intelligent life across the gulfs separating dimensions; why not across the gulfs separating the stars as well? Was someone looking out towards her and thinking the same thing: 'Why not?'

The sound of footsteps and glass tapping against glass shook her out of her reverie, and she looked behind her to see Jacoby standing a short distance away, still bandaged and splinted the way he had been since the afternoon. One talon was raised off the ground, gripping a glass bottle filled with clear liquid, and two small glasses barely large enough to hold more than a sizable gulp of anything.

“Mind if I join you?” he asked.

“You show up with what I can only assume is authentic Griffish spirits and you ask if I mind?” Skitch replied with a half-laugh. “If it’s any good, you can use me as a pillow, if you really want. How’re your ribs?”

“Oh, not much different," Jacoby replied as he ambled over. “They hurt earlier, they hurt now, and they’ll probably hurt even worse in the morning.”

“The hazards of hard work, I guess.” Skitch shifted her position slightly to more fully face Jacoby as he settled on the ground beside her, first releasing the bottle, then depositing the glasses on the ground. With practiced ease, he grabbed the bottle and unstoppered it, filled both glasses with clear liquor, and then stoppered it again. Skitch took one glass in hoof while Jacoby took the other in claw. With a clink of glass against glass, they raised a silent toast and drank.

“Apples,” Skitch half-exclaimed once she finished. “It tastes like apples. If it wasn’t Griffish, I’d swear it came right from Sweet Apple Acres. Where did you get this stuff?”

“Count Vergoldetflügal, actually,” Jacoby replied, “Although I understand he gets it from a pony, one county over. Maybe an Apple did distill it, who can say? Another?"

"Yes, please. What is this, anyway? It's delicious."

"Schaps, naturally." Jacoby unstoppered the bottle again. "Traditional distilled spirit for griffons. What about for you?"

"Oh, it depends." Skitch watched as her glass was filled again. "Around here, applejack is pretty popular. The liquor, I mean. Freeze distilled apple cider. But you go another place, and who can say?"

Jacoby gave a short 'hmph' of amusement as he filled his own glass. "That's not really what I meant," he said, stoppering the bottle again.

Skitch quirked her brow at that. "I'm not really sure else you could have been asking about, then? I've lived here in Ponyville for, well, as long as I care to remember."

Jacoby looked at the unicorn evenly. "There wasn't much happening of note last week," he said. "So a fair number of Griffish newspapers, in particular a poorly formatted pulp publication called the Shrieker, has had good success reprinting stories from the Canterlot Herald about a very peculiar individual living in a place called Ponyville."

Skitch stared at Jacoby as he busied himself with sipping the schnaps in his glass. She looked away after a few moments, off towards the horizon. “So. You know,” she said with an air of finality.

“I know,” the griffon replied. He set his glass, empty of liquid, on the ground. “Are you afraid?”

“Very.”

“Never be afraid.”

It took a moment before that particular sentence registered in Skitch’s mind. She looked back to Jacoby to find him looking at her. “Be cautious,” he said, “Be wary. Be guarded. But unless you’re alone, absolutely alone, never be afraid.”

For a few moments, Skitch focused on Jacoby, but then shifted her gaze to the ground in front of her. "It's easy to be afraid," she said. "It's so easy that I think I'm always afraid, a little bit. I mean, I laugh and smile and I mean it, but I don't have any reason that I shouldn't be afraid. Wouldn't you be?" She directed the question very specifically, looking Jacoby straight in the eye when she did. "I mean, fuck, look at what they've done already! They took my house, and there was nothing I could do to stop them. Then, they took my peace, and they didn’t even have to try very hard. Just a few words, and poof! Gone."

Skitch-Sketch suddenly deflated, looking down to the ground again. "It just, it gets you thinking, Jake. Like, what else can they take away from me? Are they going after my friends next?” The break in Skitch’s words lasted only long enough for her to completely drain her glass. “When are they going to stop? Are they ever going to stop? Are they just going to keep going until I’ve got nothing left?"

"For what it's worth, they'll eventually stop," Jacoby replied. Glass clinked against glass as he refilled Skitch's drink. "There comes a point where it's not worth their time anymore. When they can't get anymore power from torturing you, and then they just, give up.”

Skitch snorted. “And what, you have personal experience?” she asked.

“Well, yes.”

The unicorn looked at Jacoby, disbelievingly. But he just calmly refilled his glass, and when she didn’t voice any objections, he continued.

"The 'military elite' keep antagonizing your Princess. Both of them now, I guess. Who can understand why?” The griffon tossed back his schanps. “And they want me to help. I’m not a noble in any sense, and while I was in the war, I’m not a soldier, either. But because of that, when mixing in recent events, it means I’m popular with the common griffon, which would make them happy if I’d just play by their rules.

“They’ll lean on me, interfere with my ability to acquire equipment, try to make my life miserable, and they’ll most probably succeed. But eventually, they’ll need to rile up the populace again, and they won’t be able to count on me changing my mind if only they apply enough pressure. They’ll give up and stop bothering me, because they need those resources tied up somewhere else. You can fight with nobles and win easily, if you know what to do. But fighting the nobility is a war of attrition, even if you do everything right. All you can do is dig in and wait it out."

"Yeah," Skitch replied. She hesitated for several moments before finding her voice. "Let's, can we talk about something else? I don't want to talk about nobles or politics."

"Alright." Jacoby took a moment to think while he refilled his glass. "Tell me about human rockets."

The unicorn looked at him for a moment, and then grinned conspiratorially before picking her own glass up and holding it out to him. "What do you want to know?"

The bottle that once proudly held high-proof apple schanps sat empty on the ground, two equally empty glasses half-discarded next to it, all of them practically forgotten by Skitch and Jacoby. Unicorn and griffon alike lay on their backs facing the stars, trying in vain to contain their drunken laughter.

“And then,” Skitch giggled out, “Peter says, ’That oughta do it!’" Her own burst of laughter was nearly drowned out by Jacoby’s. “’Thanks very much, Ray!’” It was nearly a full minute before they had collected themselves enough to continue any sort of conversation.

“I don’t think we have any films like that,” Jacoby said. “Not that I’ve seen at least.” He paused a moment as a thought occurred to him. “What about stage theatre?"

“Huge,” Skitch replied, “Broadway, Chicago, the West End. Some stage productions have budgets bigger than most small businesses. And my god, the musicals, Jake. I never really bothered with them when I had the chance, and now that I can’t… I don’t know.”

“Didn’t know the opportunities you had until they weren’t there anymore?”

“Something like that."

Silence settled over the two for a time, and they both stared up at the stars overhead. The silence was broken when a question popped into Skitch's mind: "Why me, Jake?”

“What do you mean?” the griffon asked, keeping his attention fixed on the stars above.

“I mean… listen, let’s be honest. You’re a genius. A bonafide, actual genius. I’ll bet you could use science and runes and maybe just brainpower and solve any kind of problem you wanted to. Disease, hunger, hell, you could probably fix that long night they have up in Elkenhiem. You’d get a hell of a lot more recognition for it, too. So, why me? Why are you even remotely interested in one, mostly insignificant unicorn in Equestria?"

“Does any creature really need a reason for helping another?” Jacoby suggested.

“Yes,” Skitch replied definitively. She rolled back onto her hooves, ready to spring up from the ground at a moment’s notice. “Yes, they do. Especially in this particular case, they absolutely need a reason. So what’s yours?”

Jacoby angled his head around to look at Skitch, brow quirked. Something seemed not right. “You… I, genuinely just want to help you, Skitch-Sketch."

“That’s not a reason!” Skitch stood up fully and stomped her hoof on the ground.

Bewildered, Jacoby rolled back to his feet and pushed himself up to sitting. “There’s no need to be angry,” he said.

If he’d meant to calm Skitch down, it did not work in the slightest. “There’s every reason to be angry!” she replied sharply. “So what’s the game, then, huh? You show up, a stranger I’ve never met before, and like magic, here you are with alcohol and a shoulder to lean on. Another bottle and I probably would’ve started telling you anything that came to my mind, and then you get to go flying back home to your overlords and be a hero? That would be the game, wouldn’t it?”

“Have you lost your mind?” Jacoby asked, although the tone of his voice came as much more of a demand than anything. He too rose up to stand, the tension in his wings holding them just off of his body. “Since I’ve been here, I’ve done nothing but be civil to you. I’ve been a friend to you! Is it really that shocking that I’d want to help you with something?"

“It is when that something is the whole world thinking that I want to enslave them! Ponyville knows the real story, but everywhere else? Just what the papers tell them, so why else would you be so interested in ‘helping’ me? After all, I’m just one, mostly insignificant unicorn except for the part where I want to conquer the world!"

“In what way is that relevant to anything? Newspapers lie constantly. Lies are the only things you can count of them to consistently print. What about our correspondence? Should I not shape my opinion of you based on that? Or were you lying when you wrote those letters?”

Skitch hesitated. She had written him letters, hadn’t she? And he’d written back, and seemed on the level. “You wrote those before you knew who I am,” she said. “People, creatures change when they learn things about someone they didn’t know before!”

“Sometimes, they do. And sometimes, those things they didn’t know don’t matter.”

“Which is it for you?"

For several seconds, both of them stood silent. Jacoby broke the standoff first, sucking in a deep breath to steady his nerves before he even dared speaking. “It changed what I feel I have to do. I want to help you, Skitch-Sketch. I need, to help you.”

Skitch narrowed her eyes at Jacoby. “You still haven’t answered my question,” she said, “And that’s what I need. An answer." With sharp, measured steps, she walked closer to the griffon, not stopping until her snout was almost pressed against his beak and she fixed him with the hardest stare she could. “Why do you want to help me?”

For several seconds, Jacoby met her gaze silently. “Jake, please,” she pleaded. Her voice and expression softened, and some of the tension left her body. “If you want me to trust you, you have to trust me. That’s what friends do. They trust each other."

For another moment, Jacoby was silent, and then he turned his head away with a heavy sigh. “I know what it’s like,” he finally replied. “What it’s like when you’re the outcast. The one who doesn’t fit in.” The griffon looked back to the unicorn. “My expertise goes beyond rockets, I’m sure you’ve noticed. I like to make things, things nocreature’s ever tried making before, but I like to make things better, too. Look there.”

He pointed with a talon, and Skitch followed its direction to die Trauer Stern. “You see that? That’s better. A better envelope. A better propeller drive. A better electrical system, all kinds of things that are better, and can make other things better. And what do the powers that be want me to make?” He dropped his talon back to the ground, and waited for Skitch to turn her attention back to him before continuing.

“A better gun. A better bomb. A better way to kill other creatures. Everything they want is nothing I want. You and I, we aren’t like them, and that’s why they target us. But they can’t target me all the time while they seem to have all the time in the world for you, and even though I know I can’t just make that better, I have to try because….”

Jacoby trailed off, the words he wanted suddenly sounding wrong. Because why, exactly? “I don’t know.” His head drooped and he dropped back onto his haunches. “Maybe, looking at you is a little like looking in a mirror, and I want to help you because then you won’t make all the mistakes I did.”

His thoughts halted for just a moment when he felt something warm press against him. An instant later, he realized that Skitch had stepped the rest of the way forward and wrapped him a tight hug. “You’re a nosy, meddling, know-it-all griffon, Jacoby Flynn,” she said, squeezing him just a bit tighter. “But you’re not a bad one.”

More than just a show of affection, a hug was a show of trust. For a pony, it meant exposing their belly and putting themselves in a position where they couldn’t easily defend themselves. For a griffon, it meant putting themselves in a position where they couldn’t prevent themselves from being injured. But a pony exposed themselves to serious injury by hugging a griffon, while posing very little threat themselves. In hugging Jacoby, Skitch assumed all the risks of the interaction, hypothetical though they were, and left the griffon needing a few moments to comprehend the significance of it all. But finally, he curled his talons into fists and wrapped his arms around her to return the gesture.

After several seconds, he moved his talons to her shoulders and gently broke the embrace. Both of them were smiling warmly. “Good talk,” Jacoby said.

“Word,” Skitch replied, “But the answer’s still ‘no.’”

“Kuhscheiße!” The momentary tensing in Jacoby’s wings and brief hesitation in his speech suggested he said something he didn’t intend to. Quickly, he removed his talons from Skitch’s shoulders and took a hasty step backwards. “How can it be ‘no?’ You just said you would!"

“I said you weren’t a bad griffon. I never said I’d accept your help.”

“But. You. I,” Jacoby stammered. What just happened, exactly?

“Goodness, no. I’m still a little bit mad at you, if we’re being totally honest,” Skitch said, raising one hoof and examining it critically. "No no, if you want me to accept your help, you’re going to need to convince me with more booze and a three egg omelette with cheese."

Jacoby was struck silent for a moment. “You want more alcohol, and an omelette?” he asked.

“With cheese,” said Skitch, as if that somehow explained everything. “Omelette du fromage. You get me that at this hour, and then I think I’ll accept your help.”

An omelette in the middle of the night was neither the strangest nor the most challenging task that Jacoby Flynn had been faced with, but at that particular moment, he was having difficulty thinking of exactly what he’d dealt with that had been either stranger or more challenging. Never mind how he would accomplish it; he hadn’t any idea how he might.

At least, not until he chanced to glance up towards die Trauer Stern, and raised his talons to his beak in thought. More thought than he would have given had he been sober.

He formed a plan.

The door to the cabin Hänsel was occupying eased open and then quietly shut after two figures slipped into the darkness inside. A moment later, the overhead light turned with a gentle hum. The Count, a sleeping mask covering his eyes, paid absolutely no mind to Jacoby or Skitch as they snuck over to his steamer trunk. Although it wasn’t locked, the gently glowing runes wrapped around the steel band of its lid promised a possibly nasty surprise for anycreature that tried to open it without permission.

The duo pondered it for a moment, and then Jacoby pointed a talon towards the ceiling and hurried over to the writing desk along the wall, grabbed a sheet of stationary and the pen and uncapped the ink well (secured to the desk by a pair of bolts). Quickly, he wrote down several runewords, capped the ink well and returned the pen to where he found it, and then laid his talons on the paper and focused until the runes shined with magic of their own. Returning to the trunk, he pressed the paper against the lid and lifted it up and opened. His runes did their job and prevented anything unpleasant from happening.

Stuffing one of his talons inside, he rifled through Hänsel’s things and after a few seconds, brought out a carefully stoppered bottle of amber liquid: The Count’s ‘traveling cognac.’ Skitch grabbed the bottle with her telekinesis while Jacoby carefully closed the lid of the trunk, and then removed the paper from it, laying it face-down on the desk when once more, no ill fortune befell them. They slipped out the door, turning the lights off as they did, back into the corridor below deck, dimly lit by overhead lamps, and advanced further down.

The door to the galley opened and Jacoby turned the overhead lamp on, shutting the door once Skitch had followed him in. He pointed her towards one of the cabinets, and then went to the small range in the center of the room, turning on one of the electric coils and then retrieving a large skillet from the hooks on one of the walls.

Back in the corridor, the door to the cabin shared by Alexios and Jacoby (due to Hänsel temporarily displacing the former) opened and the minotaur stuck his head out, certain he’d heard something. Stepping out fully, he walked to the ladder leading to the pilot’s cabin and climbed up to investigate.

Back in the galley, Jacoby dumped a bowl of three beaten eggs into hot oil resting in the skillet he’d selected earlier, stirring the mixture with a fork to speed up its cooking. When it began to thicken enough, he pushed the egg to one end and with careful, practiced tosses of the skillet, folded the omelette over itself and then turned off the stove coil. The omelette was deposited onto the plate held in Skitch’s telekinetic grasp, and the skillet was given a quick wipe with a damp sponge before it was hung back up with the other pans.

Back in the corridor, Alexios finished descending the ladder. The pilot’s cabin and deck were empty, but he was sure he’d heard something, and opened the door behind him to check the engine room.

Back in the galley, Jacoby held a grating stick over the omelette and quickly shredded a small block of hard cheese over it. When the fork he’d used earlier to stir the omelette came floating towards it, he snatched it out of the air and waved Skitch away, and then gave the block of cheese two more shreds for good measure, and then blew some of the excess cheese from the grater.

Back in the corridor, Alexios crept down towards the galley door, finally realizing where he’d heard noise coming from. Grasping the knob of the door, he turned in and barged in to find the galley was empty of any creatures and also in good order, although one of them (or perhaps one of the Ponyvilleans) had left the light on. Still certain he’d heard something, the minotaur shrugged inwardly, turned the light off and closed the door. Once it had closed, Skitch let herself down from hanging from Jacoby’s neck, bottle of cognac in her teeth, and Jacoby let himself down from hanging from the apron hook on the back of the door, omelette in talon.

The galley door opened and Jake and Skitch stuck their heads out into the corridor to ensure it was empty, and then slipped out and carefully shut the door behind them, the plated omelette and cognac bottle floating in the unicorn’s aura. They snuck down to the ladder that would lead them back out and stopped just long enough for Skitch to climb onto Jacoby’s back and hooking her forelimbs over his shoulders before he started climbing. After a few seconds, both of them vanished through the hatch leading to the pilot’s cabin and into the night, not to be seen again by anyone until after sunrise.

Below deck, Alexios stuck his head out of his door one final time, still certain he’d heard something.

Author's Note

This chapter likely would have been delivered a week sooner if Zalabar hadn’t ripped it up pretty good during critique. I’m glad that he did, though, because the end result is that much stronger. His services are worth money, I am telling you.

He assisted greatly with critique on the previous chapter as well. Which is also now about 1,000 times stronger than the first draft.

If you were hoping for some sort of holiday thing, sorry. You’ll just have to wait for the story to catch up to winter, and then you’ll know to be first in line for Skitch-Sketch’s HUMAN-INSPIRED NONDENOMINATIONAL WINTER HOLIDAY BLOWOUT SALE EXTRAVAGANZA™. See store for details.

The Morning After

The sun rose over Sweet Apple Acres, and just a short time after, a thin column of morning light crept across the floor of the guest room housing Skitch-Sketch belongings and struck the mare right in the eye. She groaned miserably and, quickly devising a solution, pressed herself closer to Jacoby to keep her face out of the offending sunbeam, and made extra sure it would cease to be a problem by grabbing his wing and draping it over her head before laying back down on her pillow.

An instant later, her panicked scream rang out across the farm house, and then Jacoby’s panicked scream rang out, and then both of them stopped screaming in panic and started wailing in agony.

“My head feels like there’s a Pinkie Pie Party in it.”

Skitch sat at the table just off the kitchen, her head planted firmly on the top and one leg draped over her face, covering her eyes. Jacoby sat next to her, having taken things a step further and covered his face with both his wings. Across from them sat Applejack, who couldn’t help but look at them with poorly masked amusement. Schadenfreude was the Griffish word for it; entertainment at the expense of others. To her side sat Apple Bloom, who was stifling a giggle less at the expense of Skitch and Jacoby, and more at the bizarre expression Skitch used to describe her pain.

“Oh, how sad for you,” Hänsel remarked from the kitchen. While the other four sat around the table, he had decided to busy himself washing the dishes from breakfast, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up passed his elbows. Although Granny Smith would normally tackle the dishes, the Count had insisted (much as he had insisted that, since they were such good friends now, they should be comfortable with given names rather than formal titles), and the eldest Apple had slunk off to her rocking chair on the front porch for a short nap. “It almost sounds as if you snuck inside somegriffon’s cabin und stole zeir cognac. Vich, I suppose, is not surprising, since zis is exactly vat you did! Eselhengst.”

“Ah reckon ya’ll had it comin’,” Applejack said. “In fact, Ah’d say ya’ll deserve this, after th’ way ya both went carrying on last night.”

"ZNRRRRK!” said Jacoby from behind the door to the guest room that served as Skitch’s living space. "ZNRRRRK! ZNRRRRK!”

“ZNRRRRK!” replied Skitch in turn. “ZNRRRRK! ZNRRRRK!”

“Couldn’t tell if it was th’ two o’ you, or a couple o’ lions with bronchitis!”

“I am glaring at you with simmering irritation,” came Jacoby’s voice from underneath his wings. “It’s too bright to actually glare at you. Use your imagination.” For a moment, he expected Alexios to chime in, before recalling he had slipped out with Applejack’s brother to assist with some of the morning chores. The tension in his head lessened just slightly.

And then it increased again when the safety and warmth of his wing blanket was invaded from outside. “Lemme in,” Skitch whined as she wormed her way underneath. It was easy enough, since Jacoby did little to actually stop her from doing so. “Oh, wow, this is a good idea.”

“I’m so glad to share the joy of my discovery with another creature,” Jacoby replied, not sounding at all serious.

“You mean to say you were looking forward to sharing your Fortress of Solitude with someone?” Skitch asked with equal parts humor and pain.

“I was looking to it more than I’m looking forward to getting die Trauer Stern ready for travel,” Jacoby replied.

“Don’t vorry about zat, Jacoby. You need to rest.” Hänsel finished up with the final plate and set to drying it. “I can prepare ze ship, und I zink I can manage lunch as vell."

“I couldn’t ask you to do that."

“Jacoby Flynn,” said Hänsel sternly. The dried plate went onto the counter, and the griffon turned away from the sink and approached the table. “How long have we been friends? Seven, eight years?”

“Around there,” Jacoby replied weakly from underneath the wing cocoon.

“Und in zat time, I have vatched you pilot die Trauer Stern on numerous occasions. I am novere near ze pilot zat you are, und truly, vould be very concerned if I vere left at ze helm for any lengz of time, but I am neverzeless confident zat I can perform ze necessary pre-flight preparations vhile Alexios is assisting in ze orchard. You und Miss Sketch should rest und recover, und leave everyzing else to us.”

Jacoby’s wing lifted just enough to allow Hänsel to see the slight smile gracing his face. “I appreciate that immensely, my friend,” he said, “But I’ll have to pass.” Both wings lifted and folded back to rest at his sides while he blinked rapidly to battle the sudden influx of light. Skitch, likewise without a feathery photoshield, groaned miserably. “I should do it myself. A little physical and cognitive exercise, and I’ll be feeling like one-quarter of my old self in no time.”

Hänsel offered a light shrug in response. “Passen Sie sich,” he said, “But now, I shall have nozing to do.”

“Ya wanna help me with ma homework ‘fore Ah go t’ school?” Apple Bloom asked brightly.

“Apple Bloom!” said Applejack admonishingly, in the way a mother might scold her foal. “Now that ain’t no way t’ act towards a guest."

“But Applejack!” the filly protested, “I’m s’posed t’ write ‘bout cutie marks, an’ Ah son’t have one. But Mister Hänsel don’t have one neither, an’ he still found his special talent, cuz his job is t’ count things an’ they even gave ‘im a title that says so, so Ah thought Ah could write ‘bout how griffons don’t have cutie marks, an’ how they still find their special talent without one.”

Apple Bloom’s outburst was met with silence.

“That’s,” Skitch began, still rubbing her headache away, “Actually a really good idea.”

“Oh, c’mon, Skitch,” Applejack pleaded, but the unicorn would have none of it.

“I’m serious, AJ. It’s an educational topic, covering information that probably won’t be covered by the normal curriculum, it promotes cultural awareness, and it’ll be completely unlike anything that anyone else in class is going to write. Plus, that kind of outside-the-box thinking improves abstract reasoning and problem solving, which are skills that don’t usually get developed until way later in life. I wasn’t really introduced to those things as formalized concepts until I was almost in college.”

“Well, uh, when ya put it like that….” For all her trying to agree, Applejack still didn’t sound too convinced. “But still! Ya can’t jus’ expect a guest t’ drop everythin’ t’ help with yer homework, jus’ cuz they can’t think o’ nothin’ else t’ do. Never mind yer chores.”

“Oh, I don’t mind at all,” said Hänsel as he reinserted himself into the conversation. “In fact, I vould be delighted to help in anyvay zat I can. You vill need me to review your research materials, ja? Make sure zey are accurate enough for your use?"

“Well, uh, Ah don’ actually have anythin’ like that,” Apple Bloom admitted shyly. “Ah jus’ figured Ah could ask ya ‘bout it an’ write down what ya said."

"Ah, an interview, zen. Und viz a Count at such an age, no less!" Hänsel sounded almost as excited at the prospect as Apple Bloom. "Perhaps you shall have a career in journalism. Oh, ve should get started right avay."

"C'mon!" In a flash, Apple Bloom was scurrying upstairs to her room with Hänsel in hot pursuit, leaving every other creature around the table slightly dumbstruck as the clopping and clacking of hooves and talon caps retreated.

"Fur on a catfish!" Applejack exclaimed, stomping her hoof. "That's th' second time he's got somepony outta doin' their work!”

“He’s got a knack for it, I’ve found,” Jacoby said, rubbing his forehead. “Thank you for breakfast, Miss Apple. And putting up with our snoring. And the, barn.” He was markedly more uncomfortable at the mention of the barn. “Honestly, I’m surprised you took it as well as you did. Is this not the first time it’s happened?”

“Ha! Ah wish!”

“Huh.” Jacoby was quick enough to push that thought aside. “In any case, Skitch, would you mind joining me on die Stern? The least we can do is make more than a token contribution to lunch.”

“Sure, great,” Skitch replied as she rose from her seat at the table, “As long as it gets me into some softer light."

"Skitch, y' mind if Ah borrow ya fer a second ‘fore ya go out?" Applejack asked before the unicorn had a chance to get away.

"Uh, sure?" Skitch replied with a small degree of uncertainty. "I'll catch up to you in a minute, Jake." The griffon replied with a nod before moving out the front door, and Skitch turned to follow Applejack into the living room. "What's up, AJ?"

Rather than replying, Applejack glanced out the window first, the gave a satisfied nod and turned back to The other pony. “Skitch, Ah ain’t one t’ boss nopony ‘round, less it’s fer their own good, but don’cha think maybe you ’n Flynn’re movin’ a mite quick?”

Skitch quirked her brow and peered at Applejack in confusion for a few seconds. “Oh,” she said suddenly. “Because of last night. That’s why you’re asking, right?” A single nod provided confirmation. For a moment, Skitch nibbled on her lip in thought. “And, you’re asking because you’re concerned about me, and not for any other reason, right?” Again, Applejack nodded. Again, Skitch nibbled her lip for a moment while she ran that through her mind, and then voiced her reply.

“I got this, AJ.”

Protests from the farm mare were cut off with a raised hoof. “I get that you’re concerned about me,” Skitch continued, “And to be honest, I appreciate it, because I know it means that you’re my friend and you care about me. But I got this. Nothing happened last night except a cuddle-“

For a moment, Skitched stopped and recoiled. It felt weird, saying that. “A cuddle between friends, which friends do, I might add. And I guess we were snoring, or something. But that’s it. I’m not looking for a relationship right now, and I don’t think Jake is, either. He’s already got his work, especially since he’s working for Parliament again, and it leaves him time to have friends, and go to parties, and even take ‘research expeditions’-“ Applejack did not miss the implied euphemism in those words- “To places like Equestria, but not a lot else, and he seems happy with that. He’s already got what he wants, and I have no idea what I want, so I’d say that wraps things up pretty nicely. Don’t you agree?”

Applejack was quiet for a moment, looking at the floor, and then raised her head back up. “Ah, guess so….”

After another moment passed with no further response, Skitch decided it was appropriate to fill the dead air. “But?"

Again, Applejack was quiet for a moment, working out phrasing before speaking. “Ah jus’,” she began, pausing a moment to arrange her thoughts once more. “Ah jus’ hope he don’t get th’ wrong idea, y’ know?”

Skitch puzzled at that. “No, I’m not sure that I do. But I think if you explained it to me, I might pick up on something I missed earlier?” She herself was not totally certain about the last part.

“Well, it’s like, predator an’ prey, y’ know?” Applejack said. “Like, he’s got all them pointy bits, an’ all you have is some hairs. Lettin’ ‘im cuddle up behind ya like Ah think y’ was implyin’, where he can get at yer belly with those claws o’ his any time he wants? Ah’m a pretty trustin’ pony, an Ah don’t think Ah could ever do that. What if he starts wonderin’, if ya let ‘im do that t’ ya, what else ya might let ‘im do?"

It was Skitch who was quiet for a few moments then, although the expression she wore was not the one of thought that Applejack had, but one of realization. "I, didn't even think about that," she said. But then, she shook the thought out of her head. “Doesn’t matter. I trust him, but I’ll be more careful from now on, Applejack. I promise.”

“Well, Ah guess that’ll do, fer now,” Applejack replied, finally smiling. “Long as yer careful. Now git, ‘fore yer boyfriend starts thinkin’ yer into mares.”

“He is not- aw, skip it!” With an exasperated, and exaggerated sigh, Skitch whirled around and thumped her body against Applejack’s with the same mirth that she might’ve had when playfully shoving a friend about, were she still human. She and Applejack both returned to the living room and then went out the front door, the latter chuckling all the while, parting ways as Applejack went to the barn to finish up morning chores (meaning, to take full stock of just how total its destruction was), and Skitch went towards the airship floating above the ground with a rocket strapped under its hull.

The ladder leading up to die Trauer Stern was deployed, just as Jacoby had said it would be, and also would pose no problem for hooves. Now that Skitch was able to actually look at it, she saw that the rungs were solid and fairly wide wooden planks, rather than just lengths of rope. She didn't have hands like Alexios, but if she hooked her front legs over one of the rungs, she could pull herself up while using her hind legs to push, moving upwards sort of like an inchworm might. It proved to be a surprisingly efficient means of climbing.

Skitch chanced a glance behind her when she was about halfway to the top, down towards the ground, and then jerked her head forwards, fixing her eyes firmly on the top of the ladder. Until that moment, it hadn't occurred to her that, lacking hands, she didn't really have any way to hold onto the ladder if she slipped. She decided, in the moment after that, that the arrangement Jacoby had fashioned, while certainly effective, could not possibly have been safe. After a few more seconds of extra careful climbing, she pulled herself onto the deck and resolved to make the griffon fly her back to the ground.

Jacoby, meanwhile, looked up from his instrument panel in the pilot's cabin when her heard hooves on deck, and then smiled and waved when he saw Skitch. As she approached, he moved to the door, opened it, and stuck his head out. "Step into my office," he said, which she did happily before he closed the door behind her.

Skitch hadn't been sure what to expect, but the ship's helm hardly seemed out of place. The rest of the panel was covered in steam gauges, switches and a few buttons, and it reminded her less of a sailing ship and more of an airliner cockpit. What looked like a periscope was set in the ceiling, and of course there was a table with a map of Equestria spread over it. She hadn't gotten a good look at the room the previous night, especially in the dark, but in the light, it looked like a perfectly functional pilot's cabin.

"So, what do you say now, Skitch?" Jaccoby asked. "Still prefer your 'aeroplanes?'"

"Airplanes aren't nearly this cool," replied Skitch, trotting over to the helm for a better look at everything. As she expected, every label was in Griffish, and she couldn't read any of them. "They also run on specially blended liquid fuel, so they aren't exactly convenient to keep in your backyard. How does this one get around?"

"Electric motors." Jacoby limped over to join the unicorn. "There's a power battery down in the engine room. Low voltage, high current electricity flows out into a transformer, which sends high voltage, low current electricity to the motors that spin the propellers, and off we go! There are also torque transmitters connected to the motors, which drive magnetos that send more electricity to the rectification array and then-"

"And then back to the battery," Skitch finished. "Regenerating power, right? Humans have something similar for ground transportation."

Jacoby smiled at her. "The more you talk about where you're from, the more I want to go there someday. Your technology sounds fascinating."

"Yeah..." said the unicorn with no small amount of discomfort. Jacoby noticed, but Skitch was too quick to give him a chance to ask about it. “So, what does the main generator run on?”

“What do you mean?” The expression on the griffon’s face didn’t indicate whether or not that information was secret, although it did indicate he was a bit irritated by the sudden change of subject.

“Well, the airship has a battery, you said that, and it has magnetos connected to the propellers, but there has to be something else too. Some of the rules are the same between this world and mine, and one of those is that it’s impossible to get more energy out of a system than is put into it. It can’t be done, not even with magic. So there has to be another generator in the system somewhere, otherwise the battery would go dead. Maybe that isn't a problem for commercial shipping, but you told me last night, unless I'm misremembering, that this one's main purpose was moving mercs and soldier around so they could get to the front. That means it has to be fast, and have long range, and you can't get both of those with just batteries. So what does it run on?”

Jacoby looked at her for a few moments, and then offered a lopsided grin. “You’re too clever for your own good, Skitch,” he said. “Generally, the hull of a warship, even a converted one like die Trauer Stern has several small ducts at the bow. When flying at speed, air enters a duct and spins a fan, which spins a magneto through a torque transmitter. The electricity generated then passes through the rectification array, and into the power battery. At altitude, there's almost always wind, so for long journeys, it's very reliable, and the space that would be otherwise used for coal and boilers can be used for almost anything else. In the case here, a larger power battery, larger galley, and expanded living areas.”

The unicorn nodded. “And what does your generator run on?” Jacoby replied with a smug grin and nothing more, and it only took a moment for Skitch to get the hint. “Maybe you’ll tell me if I ask some other time, eh?”

"Maybe I will," replied Jacoby. "Now, if you'll accompany me below deck, I wouldn't mind some help with pre-flight checks, and then we'll see if we can pull part of a picnic lunch together before the rest of your friends arrive to see us off. I think I know just the thing."

When lunch at Sweet Apple Acres did come around, it was quite fortunately without disaster or awkward social misunderstandings. The Apple family brought studel, fresh from Granny Smith’s over (with Hänsel assisting, although he, with hardly any baking experience, was unsure of how much he had actually been).

Pinkie Pie, to the surprise of absolutely no creature, supplied not less than two dozens cupcakes, although she had clearly experimented with new flavors, including a bitter orange that was less successful than anticipated.

Fluttershy, to the surprised of almost everycreature, brought a small smoked salmon fillet (so as to help the griffons feel more at home, although they may have been a bit distracted, wondering where a pony managed to acquire a smoked salmon fillet).

Twilight brought a small sampling of hard and semi-soft cheeses, owing to her upbringing in Canterlot (where cheese was one of the few things that never went out of fashion).

Rarity brought a generous side of Griffish spätzle and hot mustard (although there were a few questioning looks as to where she acquired an ‘old family recipe’ on short notice).

Rainbow Dash surprised all present not with her contributions, but with her arrival, trotting along the ground rather than flying through the air. The presence of a small keg of apple cider balanced on her back prevented too much concern, fortunately. Unfortunately, two attendees had little choice but to stick with water (Rainbow Dash, however, got a kick out of their explanation).

The dish brought courtesy of the out-of-towners (with Skitch assisting) was a simple ratatouille, which was surprising to those who didn’t know better (“Griffons can certainly eat properly cooked vegetables,” said Jacoby on the matter), although was perhaps a bit more surprising for Rarity than the others (“Should it matter if it is peasant food, so long as it is delicious?” was Hänsel’s take).

Commendations were doled out over the mealtime conversation. The middle Apple, Big Mac, commended Alexios on his ‘appleboxing’ (even if, in his own words, “it ain’t quite ready yet”). Rarity commended Hänsel for his gallant actions in defending her (and Rainbow Dash and Spike) the previous day in Canterlot (even though he was quick to call his actions “boorish und embarrassing,” once he’d stopped to consider them). Hänsel then commended Spike for his “truly gallant” behavior the previous day in Canterlot (and, as Spike was not present to say anything in response, further went on to call Spike a model that young colts should strive to emulate). Finally, Skitch commended Jacoby for his ability to “take a barn to the face like a champ” (to which Jacoby replied with a very unkind look).

Soon enough, lunch ended. Dishes were packed to be cleaned later. Hänsel and Rarity exchanged addresses, and then he took her hoof and touched the tip of his beak to it in an approximately of a courtly kiss, to which she tittered and blushed a bit. Alexios and Pinkie exchanged addresses, and then she seized him in a spine-crushing hug, to which he insisted he was “just fine,” even though no one believed him. Jacoby and Twilight exchanged addresses, and then she gave him a horn-written primer regarding Quartz Crystal’s Theory of Intrinsic Magical Fields, to which he became excited about the help it would give to his research. Finally, Skitch and Jacoby shared a hug, and a promise to continue writing.

Then, the visitors ascended up to the deck of die Trauer Stern and waved a final goodbye. The anchors withdrew their pitons and rose back up to the hull, the propellers spun to life, the airship changed its heading and departed north-east, and life returned to normal.

It was normal for Ponyville, at any rate.

Author's Note

This one started killing me; I scrapped the entire chapter once, and almost every section of it underwent numerous rewrites as I stripped more and more words out of it. Although it features my primary contributions to the Skitchverse, at the end of the day, this story is about Skitch-Sketch, and everything that was removed was pulled out to keep as much of the focus on her as possible. Extra thanks to GreyGuardPony for helping me keep her characterization straight, and another extra thanks to Zalabar who, although he did not proofread this chapter, nevertheless helped me to realize that this story was about Skitch. It does feel a little bit sudden to me at the end, but I had to finish this tale, because it was getting difficult to write (I have a bunch of ideas, and could use absolutely none of them here).

For those of you reading this, thanks for sticking around for the ride, and putting up with Jacoby’s and Hänsel’s occasional racism.

Also, don’t forget that the Skitchverse is an open and shared universe. If you have an idea for a story, don’t be afraid to pitch it, and then write it, and definitely don’t forget that Equestria and the High Confederation of Wings are not the only countries in the world. Never be afraid to ask questions. Even if Guardy isn’t available at a given moment, I can answer some questions too. There is a brainstorming thread in the Skitchverse group, and I invite all of you to use it.

That’s all for now. Good night, folks, and may the wind be at your back.