OC SlamJam - The Battle to be Best Pony

by Vivid Syntax

Rating: everyone
Tags: Slice of Life
Length: 13687

Best OC gonna slice-of-life some fools all up in this business.

What do you get when you give a contest entry a pithy description? Ease of use for Obs!

Vivid's contest entry for the OC SlamJam, using his OC Ace Artisan (Bracket 2).

Chapter titles give the round number, pairing, and opponent.

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2015-07-20 01:03:58 UTC

Round 2, Pairing AO, Title: "Priorities"

"A corpse!?"

Loam winced from the bottom of the deep hole. Peeking up at the stallion along the rim, she mumbled, "It's, uh, more of a… box of bones."

Ace Artisan stopped breathing. He jerked his head around, surveying the dusty, flat construction site adjacent to Canterlot General Hospital. It was dusk, and fortunately, the lot was dead quiet. Backhoes and earthmovers littered the area, and besides a couple inattentive guards starting their shift, the only ponies around were the grey architect and the brown foundation-digger.

Loam called back up from the hole, "Should I bring it out?"

Ace's head whipped back to her. "No!" He dove into the large hole, landing with a soft thud and a puff of dirt. When he saw Loam shrink away a little, he cleared his throat and regained his composure. "No, please. We shouldn't move…" He flicked a hoof at the small wooden casket with the collapsed sides. "…it until we know what we're going to do." He pranced in place and looked all around. "This is bad. This is very bad."

"Yeah." Loam frowned and looked back at the open box. Inside was a skull sitting atop the pile of bones. "Poor mare. She wasn't even buried with any belongings."

"What? No!" Ace stared wide-eyed at the brown mare. "Loam, focus! If somepony finds this thing, they'll shut down construction until they can do another archeological survey. The first one already took two months longer than anticipated, and we're behind schedule enough as it is."

Loam sat and cocked her head to the side. "But… Don't you feel bad for her at all?"

Ace sat down and stared at the earth below him. He knocked a hoof repeatedly against his head while a cold sweat dripped down his face. "Think. We can fix this. We can fix this." His breathing picked up, and his thoughts raced in circles. 'What if there's an official investigation? Dammit! Construction could be delayed for a year, and Canterlot *needs** the extra hospital space! Ugh, couldn't she have died someplace else? And what if–*'

"Ace!"

His head snapped up, and he sucked in a quick breath. "Yes?"

Loam's eyes flickered between the ground and her friend's face. "You… don't think it's kinda sad? She was left all alone here. I dug around, and there isn't anypony else with her. Not even a stone slab or anything."

Ace sighed. "Loam, we have to worry about the living right now. That thing is going to put a lot in jeopardy: my firm's work, your job here, and especially the hospital staff and patients."

"She's not a thing, Ace," Loam said flatly. She looked at the skull and rested a hoof on its forehead. "She's a mare. Looks like an Earth Pony, too. She deserves better than this."

Ace cocked an eyebrow. "How do you know it's a mare?"

Loam narrowed her gaze. "I work in a graveyard. You pick up on the details."

Ace blushed. "Oh, sorry." He looked up and out of the hole. "We still need to do something with… her, though. She can't stay here. Could you, I don't know…" Forcing himself to make eye contact, he gnawed on his lower lip. "Could you rebury her, maybe?"

Loam crossed her forelegs and scowled. "Ace, I'm pretty sure that's illegal."

Ace's stomach knotted, but he pictured everypony's work going up in flames. "Please? Just this once?"

Loam kept quiet.

Ace let out a frustrated sighed. His hackles raised a little, and he thought, 'She's being so short-sighted. Doesn't she care about what a delay would do to all those patients?'

Taking a deep breath, he looked back up to her. "Loam, it's just random chance that we found her here. Don't think of it as disturbing her. Think of it as giving her a proper burial."

Loam stuck her lower lip out and raised an eyebrow. "Hm…" She looked back down at the broken casket. Ace could see the gears turning, and she rocked her head back and forth for a few moments before replying. "Okay, but only because she deserves better. And you have to carry her."

Ace's chest tightened up, but he nodded and kept himself from making a face at the box. "That's fair. Thanks, Loam."

"And you need to dig me a grave or two tonight. With all the foundation work this place needs, I've fallen behind."

"Hey, you're the one that wanted the extra work. But yes, it's a deal." Ace turned and, with some frantic scurrying, climbed out of the hole. "Let's not waste any more time. It's already going to be a long night."

When he didn't hear a response, he looked back over his shoulder. "Loam?"

She hadn't budged. "Won't… Nocturne be worried about you?"

"Oh, no. She'll be fine. She knows how important this project is to me."

Loam dug a hoof into the dirt. "Uh… Yeah, but you've been working late and coming by the site all week. Don't you think she misses you?"

Ace shook his head and waved a hoof. "I'll get her flowers and bring her to a violin stunt show or something. Right now, work comes first."

Loam paused. "I mean, I can understand that, but, uh…"

Ace turned around. "Yes?"

Loam locked eyes with Ace. It took her several seconds to say, "Never mind."

"Alright, then." He looked up and around the lot until he saw a wooden cart about fifty yards away. "I'll be right back."

Shaking the dust out of his mane, Ace trotted toward the cart and narrated to himself. 'Don't panic. Stand up straight. Walk like you own the place, and nopony will mess with you.' He tripped over his own hooves. 'And stop shaking so much!'

Ace made it all the way to the cart before a pudgy, cream-colored Unicorn guard bounced up to him. "Oh, evenin', Ace! Whatcha doin' 'round dese here parts so late, eh?"

Ace's blood ran cold. He grimaced and spoke through gritted teeth. "Hi, Night Light." His legs became stiff. 'It's okay. Just get him out of here.'

"Lockjaw still givin' ya' issues, eh? Ya' should really see a doc 'bout dat."

Ace cocked his head to the side, and forced his mouth to move. "Uh… Will do, Night Light! Hey, could you do me a favor?"

"Oh, sure ting, buddy! Whatcha need? Loam havin' trouble in da hole o'er yonder?"

Ace gulped. 'Think fast.' He quickly scanned around and caught just a glimpse of a grey unicorn skulking around the edge of the construction site. 'Perfect.'

Ace cleared his throat and pointed. "Some weirdo's been hanging around here all day. Could you make sure he's not up to anything?"

Night Light beamed. "Oh, o' course! Love ta do some real work now 'n then! Harhar!" He spun around with the energy of a pony half his size and blew his whistle. "Stop! Tief!" With a snort, he bounced away after the other pony.

Ace looked around. A second guard headed that direction, too, so he quickly took the cart and a nearby tarp. He hurried back over to Loam.

She was still in the hole, but she'd managed to seal the box back up. "What took you so long?"

"There was a minor complication, but it's been taken care of. We should hurry."

"Yeah. It's getting dark." She gently picked up the box and, despite her small size, lifted it above her head and over to Ace.

With a shudder and a reminder to himself that it was just calcium inside, Ace grabbed the box and gingerly set it in the cart. A quick flip of the tarp later, and their grisly package was ready for delivery.

Loam climbed out of the hole and hitched up the cart to Ace's back, then threw both their saddlebags onto the tarp to keep the wind from blowing it away. After it was secured, she trotted toward the street. "I'll take us the back way. It's a bit longer, but there isn't much light. Should be safer."

"Yes. Good idea." Ace nodded at Loam, then looked back at the cart, which sent a shiver up his spine.

They cantered off of the lot and through the cool summer night, staying close together. Ace took slow steps so Loam could keep up. The wheels of the wooden cart creaked, and each bump in the road jostled the harness, reminding him of what he was doing. Ace pictured the mare's remains jumping out of their box and landing on his back, and he struggled to keep from vomiting.

A few ponies passed them by, each giving them an asymmetric look. Some stared at the ragged cart, while others gaped at the size difference between the two ponies that accompanied it. Fortunately, none stopped to say anything.

After a particularly snooty Unicorn turned his nose up at them and crossed the street, Ace let out a nervous chuckle. "Heh. Nice thing about Canterlot. Nopony has any time or care to question what you're up to."

Loam didn't respond. She only kept staring forward, occasionally motioning with a hoof when they needed to make a turn.

A fresh breeze rolled through the deserted streets. The trees rustled, and Ace found himself jerking his head toward every little noise that seemed out of the ordinary.

He cleared his throat. "I haven't been this far from the city center at night in a long time. It's a little spooky how–"

"What do you think her name was?"

Ace looked back to Loam, who was staring back at the cart. "Pardon?"

Loam looked up at Ace. "She must have had a name. What do you think it was?"

Ace turned away and looked up the road. "I don't know," he muttered. He felt a nudge at his side, and he sighed. "I'm sorry, but I really don't want to think about it right now. Whoever she was, she's a burden to both of us right now, and neither of us can afford to lose this job, so we should focus on what's important."

Loam spat, "Well, she was important to somepony. I bet she had a husband or a coltfriend or something, too."

Ace rolled his eyes. "What's gotten into you tonight? You're usually right there with me when somepony's slacking. What's up?"

"Just… the bones look so young." Even in the darkness, he could see a fire in her eyes that made her seem larger than life. "Ace, you know I try not to get too morose, even though it kinda comes with the territory, but she probably died suddenly. Her loved ones must have been devastated."

Ace straightened his shoulders and looked forward. "Don't think about it. We're almost to the cemetery, right?"

"Yeah…"

Their hooves clicked against the stone road. Ace tried to focus on the sweet smell of flowers and the cool air that brushed against his fur and carried the hot day away. He turned his ears to the owls hooting in the distance, but something tingled in the back of his mind.

He could almost feel the nameless pony in that box, lying in a heap. It reminded him of a friend on the verge of tears, how sitting in their presence gave a pony simultaneous feelings of pain and love mixed together. His heart felt heavy all of a sudden. It reminded him of…

Ace felt a hoof at his side.

"We're here," Loam calmly said. "There's a spot by that big tree over there. The roots might be a little annoying, but they won't miss the space. She'll be safe there."

Blinking his eyes a few times, Ace looked out across the large field of upended stones. Mist curled hauntingly around the grave markers, and a large tree stuck out of an otherwise flat patch of earth. The moon was out in full, lending the scene a calming blue glow.

Ace took a step into the graveyard, the wheels of the cart creaking behind him. "It's as good a place as any. Do you have a shovel?"

He thought her heard her whisper, "Psh, amateur."

He definitely heard her say, "Sure. Get her set up, and I'll get some things from the shed."

They split apart, and Ace trotted to the base of the large oak tree, where he unhitched the cart and waited for Loam to return.

After several minutes, she hadn't come back. Ace peeked around the tree, but he didn't see any movement. 'Probably for the best,' he thought. 'I'm jumpy enough as it is.'

He tried to keep himself occupied, but his eyes kept wandering to the cart. The heaviness in his chest came back, and he rapidly tapped a hoof against the root of the tree. His voice felt like it was collecting in his throat. He hummed a slow song to try an ease the tension, but it didn't help, and he stared again at the box.

"You're causing a lot of trouble, you know," he said, half-heartedly. "I… suppose you aren't really to blame for that, though."

He looked down at the dirt, then back up to the box. His brain tingled again, and for a moment, he considered that it was rude to talk through a tarp. Before he knew what he was doing, he had removed the saddlebags and the tarp from the cart, leaving only the broken box.

Ace's mouth opened again. "Did… I know you can't hear me, but did you have a special somepony? Of course you did, right?"

The box didn't answer.

"I… hope you two weren't fighting when it happened." It felt like he'd swallowed a rock. "And I hope he made time for you. I mean, he was probably busy a lot, right? There are always important things to do and… ugh, fine. Here."

Ace reached over and easily removed the lid. A musty smell permeated the air, and he saw that the bones had settled on the near side of the box. The skull sat on top of the pile, and its eye sockets felt like they were looking right at him.

"Is that better? Take a deep breath. You might… not know when it's your last."

Ace felt the pang of guilt in his chest, and he sighed. "Aw, dammit."

He sat, and his gaze fell to the ground. "Look, the hospital is important. Very important. The sooner we can get the new wing built, the sooner it can start helping ponies." He looked up at the skull. "And Nocturne knows how big this could be for me. The proposal was a huge risk, but it might just pay off. She'll understand. It's better this way… right?"

The skull remained still.

Ace hung his head again. "I'm sorry. I really am. She's important, too, but it's so easy to get all…" He made a twirling motion with his forehooves. "…wrapped up in everything that's happening, and I'm… I'm sorry that I'm not doing better for her. I hope your stallion was better to you."

A small, familiar voice spoke up. "Heh. I thought I was the only one that did that. Guess we're both crazy."

Ace smiled and turned towards Loam. "Nah, you're not–" He noticed the extra piece of equipment she was carrying. "W-why do you have an axe?"

Loam narrowed her eyes and glowered at the tree. Her voice got low and raspy. "Because I have seen the true face of evil. It is gnarly and wooden, and it must be destroyed."

Ace's eyes went wide, and his pupils dilated. Rather than further question the axe-wielding pony that spent all her time in a graveyard, he decided to steer the conversation towards something productive. He squeaked, "Let's get this over with."

The two of them worked quickly, their sweat mixing with the dirt. Ace dug with a shovel and Loam with her hooves. Despite working his fastest, Ace noticed that by the time they were finished, Loam had done three times as much work and still found time to cackle as she hacked apart a cluster of tree roots.

Ace tossed the shovel out of the freshly-dug grave. He whistled as he looked around the sides of the hole – perfectly square, just like always – and said, "Still can't believe you can make something so structurally sound out of dirt. It can't be easy."

Mentally, he added, 'Especially for such a small pony,' but he'd learned long ago how much those words stung his friend, and he held his tongue.

Loam climbed out of the grave and resealed the box. She pushed it over to the edge, where Ace grabbed it. With some awkward movement, he nestled it into the fresh hole and climb out without any damage. Then, with a strategic push a dirt pile and a few extra hooffuls, the hole was filled.

The small brown mare and the large grey stallion sat down next to the new grave in silence for several minutes. The only sounds were the soft wind and the call of the night birds. The silence stretched on for many long minutes.

Loam was the first to speak up, though her eyes stayed glued to the grave. "We should get her a headstone."

Ace sighed. "Agreed. I'll take care of it."

"You sure?"

"Yes. I'll bring some bits tomorrow. Flowers, too, I think. Can you think of something pretty to carve onto it?"

She nodded. "No problem."

"And…" He turned back to Loam. "I know I said I'd help with the graves tonight, but I need to give Nocturne a big hug and let her know I love her." Quietly, he added, "While she's still here."

"Ha!" Loam's head whipped towards Ace. "You're just figuring that out now? Sweet Luna, I thought you had to be smart to be an architect."

Ace grinned and playfully cuffed Loam's shoulder. "Yeah, well, I got there, didn't I?"

Loam nodded and smiled. "Yeah." She stood up and stretched her back. "I'm gonna dig one or two more before bed, but I'll walk you out. And don't worry about the cart. I'll bring it back tomorrow."

"Thanks, Loam."

"You, too, hoof-for-brains. Let's go."

Ace put on his saddlebag, and as they walked back toward the cemetery entrance, he stole one more glance at the new grave. For just a moment, he could swear he saw a white, translucent mare smiling warmly at him, but perhaps it was just the mist.

Round 3, Pairing AZ, Title: "Foundations"

The stairwell seemed so much larger at night. Loud Mouth was halfway down – only four floors left – but it still felt daunting. Her hooves landed heavily on the steps, and she walked slowly, promising herself that no, really, tomorrow she'd tell Whammy Bar the truth: that she'd let that grey unicorn stallion steal Whammy's necklace without so much as a fight.

But that was for tomorrow – it was already two in the morning. Loud Mouth had run out of ways to distract herself, so she continued the trudge back home to another sleepless night spent fighting the pillow.

She was deep in thought, pondering her the advice from one of her workshops (It's never too late to make things right!), so she didn't notice another set of hooves clacking against the steps a few floors below. However, as soon as Loud Mouth set hoof on the landing for the third floor, she spotted a large stallion with a grey coat at the bottom of the next flight.

"EEK!" Loud Mouth jumped back against the wall and froze, her thoughts racing. It's him! He's back!

The stallion barely reacted. He slowly lifted his head toward Loud Mouth.

As she stared, the icy terror in her stomach was replaced by a warm blush of her cheeks. This stallion's mane was dark blue, not brown, and he didn't have a horn. It wasn't the same pony.

Loud Mouth took a tentative step forward. "I-I'm sorry. You… You startled me."

The stallion was an earth pony, and a large one at that. He wore a light blue collared shirt, but it was a complete mess. It was wrinkled and smeared with dirt, and his coat looked no better. His deep blue mane wasn't combed, either. In fact, he looked like he'd just woken up. He frowned. His eyelids drooped, and the color had drained from his face. The eyes seemed hollow and dull with nothing behind them. Looking into them, Loud Mouth felt a wave of sadness wash over her heart – they were just like her own eyes these days.

"I apologize," he said in a low, raspy baritone, devoid of energy.

"It's…" Loud Mouth took a deep breath (It reduces stress!). "It's alright. I-I just thought you were somepony else."

The stallion didn't respond. Instead, he climbed to the third floor and fished some keys out of his pocket. "Excuse me." Loud Mouth stepped aside, and the stallion sluggishly unlocked the door and trudged in, letting it close lazily behind him.

Loud Mouth stood paralyzed for several minutes. His eyes had bothered her. Nopony should look that way, she thought. Maybe he needs somepony to talk to? Oh, but of *course** I didn't speak up when I had the chance. You could have finally done some good, Loud, and you blew it. You're such a–*

She glanced to her side and saw that the door had caught on the latch.

For just a moment, her heart fluttered. She looked down the stairs and thought about the futility of pretending to sleep. Yes, he certainly needs somepony to talk to. She knew it was an empty gesture, an excuse to distract herself just a little longer, but it was enough. She slipped through the door.

Inside, she found herself in a dimly-lit reception area that smelled of stale air and too much cleaner. A large logo of a building with the words "Build It Higher!" was fastened to the wall. Her eyes adjusted to the dark, and she peeked around a corner to see a soul-crushingly grey cubicle farm. Only one cubicle had its lights on, and from it, she heard a sound like rattling wood.

Loud Mouth walked slowly into the maze of grey offices and called out weakly. "Hello? Sir, are you all right?"

The clacking wood stopped for a moment, then continued.

"You looked a little rough. Is everything all right?" She stepped around the corner of the cubicle and looked inside.

Blueprints littered the floor. The stallion sat hunched over a low table, and on it was a large wooden crate. Inside were colorful wooden blocks in many sizes and shapes, their paint showing wear from years of use. The stallion was examining the edge of a red rectangle in his hooves, slowly turning it over right in front of his face.

"Sir?"

He set the block down in a neat little row with a few others. His voice was shaky, tired. "Please excuse me, ma'am. I'm… I'm very busy."

Loud Mouth took half a step forward and cocked an eyebrow. She said flatly, "You're… playing with blocks."

The stallion stopped and sat motionless, fixated on the blocks. He stared at the crate for a long time, then looked at Loud Mouth. After a beat, he looked back at the crate, then back to her. He examined her up and down.

"Would–" He cleared his throat. Even with his low baritone voice, he still sounded like a foal when he asked, "Would you like to play?"

Loud Mouth paused. He's clearly unstable.

However, something inside her took pity. She nodded. "Sure." Stepping over the blueprints, she walked to the opposite side of the little table and sat down.

The stallion didn't say anything. He just continued taking individual pieces out of the box, looking them over and separating them, though Loud Mouth couldn't discern what made each row distinct. They seemed to be sorted randomly.

Loud Mouth fidgeted in the silence. "So… what brings you to the office so late, mister…" She glanced around the cubicle, spying a nameplate hanging on the wall. "Mister Artisan?"

He didn't look up. "Call me Ace."

"Sure thing, Ace," she said with some artificial bounce in her voice (Everypony loves positivity!). "You look like you've had a rough day, but maybe I can help. What happened?"

The stallion didn't acknowledge her. He reached into the box and grabbed another rectangle, testing its weight.

"You can talk to me, Ace. Strangers make the best confidants."

Ace's eyes flickered up at Loud Mouth, almost like he was glaring at her. However, he quickly resumed his work.

Her heart skipped a beat at that look – far too much like a certain security guard for comfort – but she maintained her composure. Handle emotional situations delicately. Oh, and remember that proper posture shows respect!

Loud Mouth sat up straight. "It's a very nice block set. I must admit, though, it's a bit strange to see it in such a professional setting. Not many–"

"My little brother gave them to me after graduation. I'm an architect." He nudged a block slightly to bring it perfectly in line with the others. "They help me think."

"Oh? About what?"

Ace paused, then slowly pushed a few blocks to the center of the table.

Loud Mouth tried to keep eye contact, but the coldness in Ace's expression kept her turned away. Instead, she ignored the tightness in her chest and focused on the blocks.

It seemed foalish to her at first, a grown stallion playing with toys, but the more she watched, the harder it was to look away. Ace's hooves moved slowly, but with great purpose. He set two blocks side-by-side very precisely. They appeared flush, but Ace gave a few quick taps to the block on the right, moving it almost imperceptibly closer to its mate. He then tapped the opposite side twice, and the blocks somehow seemed closer than they had been a moment ago. Loud Mouth blinked a few times – they were perfectly aligned.

She watched as Ace made a large square of red, blue, and yellow blocks with seemingly no gaps between them. His dexterity stunned her, hypnotized her, and she felt herself leaning in more and more as Ace stacked blocks along the outside edge, interlocking like bricks. He chose each block carefully, and soon, he'd made a cube, complete with long blocks to enclose the top.

Loud Mouth nearly complimented his craftsponyship, but Ace quickly reached for more. He methodically built a second cube on top of the first. His structure was two stories tall, and he carefully lined the top with triangular blocks, setting them in place and nudging them with only the slightest disturbance to the base.

She saw it now: a picture-perfect house. He'd used every block that he'd set aside.

Loud Mouth leaned back. The lamp on Ace's desk shone down on a perfect little wooden home, square in its design and as solid-looking as the building they sat in.

Ace let out a slow breath, leaning back from his hunched position. He cleared his throat again. "I should have added another layer of bricks to the first floor. It would have opened up the entryway. There's some space at the southwest corner as well, too, and that won't do if disaster strikes."

Loud Mouth blinked and shook her head. She craned her neck and examined each of the corners. "What are you talking about? It looks perfect!"

Ace frowned. "It's not good enough."

Cocking her head to the side, Loud Mouth asked, "Why not?"

Ace blinked away a tear. "Because it's not perfect. It's never going to be perfect, and I promised…" He slumped. "I promised Nocturne I'd build her the perfect house."

Oh, dear. I know that look. She spoke softly. "I'm sorry. Is she… all right?"

Ace shrugged. "I suppose. She's… angry, though."

Loud Mouth thought back to the relationship seminar, a well-attended talk she'd given about three weeks prior. What was the advice? 'Relationships take time, and that means time together!' Yes, that's it. Now, make sure he knows you empathize.  She nodded and put on a showy, plastic frown. "Ah, I've seen this before. Too much time at the office, maybe?"

Ace looked up for a moment, the hint of scowl on his face. "I was out late tonight." Under his breath, he mumbled "again" before continuing. "Something important came up at work, and I had to help a friend. Or… she had to help me, rather." He brushed some of the dried mud off of his shirt. "Loam helped me straighten out my priorities, and I felt terrible, so I rushed home to tell Nocturne how much I appreciate her, but when I got there…" He trailed off.

He's opening up. Well done, Loud. "It's okay. Go on."

"She was… sobbing." Ace's lip quivered, and his voice cracked. "I-I never wanted to make her sad. And then I tried to tell her, but she said I was making excuses again, and I told her I'd fix it, but she just kept crying." His words came out faster and faster. "And then everything gets hazy and she's shouting and I'm shouting and telling her that I love her and she's shouting that she loves me but she doesn't feel like she's worth anything to me and she says–" Ace swallowed and blinked rapidly. He said, more slowly, "She says she wants to take a break, and she leaves with a small bag of her things." He looked down at the house of blocks. "And it's because I'm not good enough."

Loud Mouth felt a swelling in her chest and only a small pang of guilt at her internal glee. Finally, she'd be able to help somepony. She could make a positive difference.

She took a deep breath. First, mirror his feelings. "It sounds like you really care about her, and you're afraid that this little break might turn into something bigger." Don't forget to ask questions. "Is that right?"

Ace's expression twisted into something like a weak snarl. "Yeah."

Open-ended questions. Keep him talking. "What would you like to happen?"

Ace sighed, still looking at his creation. "I want to be with her, and I want her to be happy with me." He half-chuckled. "And I want to keep my promise and build her the perfect house. Home. The perfect home."

Loud Mouth put on her warmest smile and nodded slowly. "That would be very nice." Now, connect it back to what's important. "And what do you think Nocturne wants?"

Ace pursed his lips, and his tone got a touch sharper. "She wants to feel supported. Nocturne has a career to think about, too – she's a singer at the Conservatory, and I've only ever missed one of her shows."

Ah, now we're getting to the root of it. "And why did you miss it?"

"Work." Ace glared, and Loud Mouth felt a chill in her heart. She shrunk back, and something ate at her insides. Ace was giving off some kind of vibe, something she didn't like.

Never get angry when you're listening. "Well, then I can understand her frustration, but you know, everypony makes mistakes. In time, I'm sure she'll understand that."

"That's the thing, though." His voice had gotten softer, and he traced little circles on the table with his hoof. "I'm not entirely convinced it was a mistake." His shoulders sank. "At least, I didn't think so at the time. We both know how important this project is for me, for us." He moved his hoof to a corner of the house. "But I let that get in the way of what was important. I don't deserve her."

With a flick of his hoof, he knocked away a corner block.  It slid over to Loud Mouth's side of the table with a hollow scratching noise. Loud Mouth snapped her attention to the block house, but it remained solid.

She frowned. Don't think like that, Ace. It only makes your life miserable. I would know. She forced herself to smile and look up at him. "Ace, we both know that isn't true." She didn't, but her training and experience told her that this was what ponies needed to hear. "You sound very devoted, both to your work and your marefriend. You just need to prioritize." She fished around in her mind for something to lighten the mood. "Unless you really want to marry your work!"

Ace rolled his eyes.

Everypony loves a good laugh! She giggled with a little, "Hm-hm!"

Ace ignored her. "There's more. Her friends…" His hoof moved toward the northeast corner of the house.

Loud Mouth started to reach out a hoof to stop him, but she hesitated.

"Nocturne's got so many friends. She says they like me, but I'm… They always seem uncomfortable when I'm around, like I'm a pariah. Like I'm…" His eyes flickered up to his forehead, then back to the table. His body sagged. "Like I'm not really one of them." He flicked away another block, which tipped off the edge of the table and knocked against the floor.

The house had shifted slightly. Loud Mouth could see a few spaces between the blocks.

She cleared her throat, and nodded. "I know what you mean. It can be tough to fit in. I'm certainly not the prettiest mare around, and I'm too gangly, and things haven't always gone my way, but it doesn't get me down."

Liar. She shook off that thought and tried to replace it. Remember, relate your advice to something they can–

"Oh!"

Ace's head snapped up, and his drooping eyes shot open. "What?"

Loud Mouth smiled wide. "It's like your house!" She pointed down to it. "You've built a strong foundation, and look! It's survived some pretty big blunders. You just need to repair it, and it will be good as new."

Perfect! Loud Mouth smiled from ear to ear.

Ace's eyes narrowed, and he spoke with hardly any inflexion. "Yes, I am aware that it's a metaphor. Why do you think I'm finding it so cathartic to take apart?"

Loud Mouth felt a lump in her throat that made it difficult to speak, and her smile quickly faded. "Uh, well… still…"

Ace's voice was even, if a little rough. "I'm not an idiot, and I would thank you not to talk down to me so much."

He doesn't understand. These techniques really work! She leaned forward with a hoof on the table. "Ace, I'm sorry if I've offended, but you really should listen to what I'm saying. I've got lots of experience helping ponies."

Well, *trying** to help.*

When Loud Mouth didn't get a response, she said, "Let's start over. I don't think I've even introduced myself. My name is–"

"Loud Mouth."

She sat bolt upright, eyes wide. "O-oh! I'm sorry, I guess I must have forgotten that I'd… already told you?" The conversation replayed in her head, but she couldn't remember doing so.

"You didn't."

"Silly me, then." Loud Mouth looked down at her body. "Did I leave my nametag on myself again or–"

Ace spoke in rapid, clipped words. "You're a public speaker. You give talks in the auditorium downstairs. Three weeks ago, you spoke about mending relationships."

His tone didn't register, or perhaps it did and she refused to acknowledge it. In either case, she allowed herself a glimmer of joy as she imagined Ace and Nocturne leaving her seminar hoof in hoof. "Oh! Did it help?"

Maintaining eye contact, Ace reached over to his left, and knocked away the third cornerstone.

It took a moment to sink in, but when it did, Loud Mouth felt herself collapse. Her muscles went slack, and her head hung low.

"Heh-heh," Ace chuckled bitterly. "See? Cathartic."

The office was quiet, save for the buzz of the desk lamp and Loud Mouth's increasingly heavy breathing.

She tried to recall some piece of advice that could save the day, but her thoughts kept looping over and over. This was foolish. I'm a failure, and I've never really helped anypony. I just take up space and make things worse. I'm a failure.

Loud Mouth tried to speak, but only a squeak came out.

Ace mumbled something.

Loud Mouth managed to look up for a moment to see Ace blushing, his head turned away. "I said I apologize. That was unnecessarily cruel."

There was a long, uncomfortable beat, one that Loud Mouth felt she had to break. "It's all right," she whispered. I deserved it.

She waited. She wanted him to say that it was okay, that he was wrong and that she'd really been able to help him. She held her breath.

Ace didn't respond.

Loud Mouth, with creased brows and desperation in her voice, leaned forward. "But… it was at least a little helpful, right?"

Ace flicked his tail. "I'm sorry, but no."

"N-not even a little?"

Ace chewed on his tongue for a moment. "I know you mean well, and I can't imagine your work is easy, but we spent a lot of bits to hear rehashed platitudes and clichés. It was clear to me, at least, that your heart wasn't in it, like you were just parroting advice you'd rehearsed a thousand times."

Loud Mouth tried to will herself out of existence. She went rapidly over her most recent speeches: the relationship seminar, the time management course, and even this very conversation. Her eyes stung. "I'm… I'm sorry."

Ace continued, a slight edge to his voice. "I told Nocturne I didn't think it had been worth it, and she got angry. She thought I didn't care enough about our relationship to at least try to fix it, but everything you told us was, frankly, tired advice."

In any relationship, both parties need to talk *and** listen.* Her thoughts were automatic, but she felt grateful that she couldn't bring herself to vocalize them. Grateful, and sad.

Ace snorted, looking like a guard on his third consecutive shift. "Look, you've clearly had a bad day as well, and I'm sorry, but I'm no therapist." He roughly ran a hoof through his mane. "Trust me, there are ti–"

As he set his hoof down, he knocked the table. The house wobbled for a moment, then clattered down into a multicolored pile with very little ceremony.

A moment later, Ace's forehead met the tabletop with a thud, and after a groan, he mumbled into his chest, "Yeah, it's always the little things."

With Ace's eyes off of her, Loud Mouth felt safe enough to wipe a tear from her eye. "I'm… I'm sorry that my seminar was no good."

Ace brought his head away from his chest and rested his chin on the table. He looked at the pile of blocks, but his eyes didn't focus. They still looked cold and lifeless.

"I-I wish there were something I could do to help, but I…"

Ace stared at her with his dead eyes. He grumbled, "I said I'm not your therapist."

Loud Mouth felt cold. "No," she said mechanically. "No, I suppose not. I'm…" She stood up and looked around, quickly mumbling, "I'm sorry for wasting your time."

Ace sighed. "It's alright. Sorry for being such an ass. It's… been a bad day."

Loud Mouth took one last look at the blueprints scattered around her. She felt empty. This was the time that the advice she'd memorized was supposed to matter most, but try as she might, she couldn't recall anything. What do you say when your words don't mean anything?

She settled on, "I hope things get better." It would have to do.

"Thank you."

As she turned to leave, her eyes fell on a blueprint on the floor. Much like the block house, it was elegantly designed and looked very solid.

She didn't know why – maybe she didn't care, maybe she still wanted to make it right, or maybe she was just being honest – but the words fell out of her mouth. "I'm sure you don't want to hear anything else from me – heck, I wouldn't – but for what it's worth, I think you're a great architect."

With his chin still on the table, Ace raised an eyebrow.

"It's sad to see one of your structures collapse, yes, but… well, you can always rebuild it."

Ace sat up, though his head still hung low. "Maybe, but… It wouldn't be the same."

Loud Mouth blinked a few times, then shrugged. "No, no it wouldn't, but maybe you can make it better this time." She looked over to a picture on his desk: Ace in a tuxedo, smiling next to a purple unicorn mare in a lovely black dress. "Maybe you can make it perfect."

Ace's eyes opened a little wider, and just for a moment, she saw a small glimmer within.

It was enough. Loud Mouth, stepping over the papers on the floor, said a quiet, "Good night, Ace, and good luck."

Loud Mouth walked out of the cubicle. She made her way to the reception area, and she yawned. No, she didn't know if she'd sleep that night or be able to tell Whammy Bar the truth in the morning, but for a moment, she didn't feel quite as bad.

As she lifted a hoof to the exit, she paused. A small, tired smile spread across her face as she heard the faraway sound of wooden building blocks gently knocking together.

Round 4, Pairing BF, Title: "Limits"

'Aaaaand, of course, that one's choppin' wood with the wrong side of the hatchet.'

Evergreen sighed as she surveyed the campsite. "Hoof-dah." She straightened her campaign hat, which nicely complimented her red jacket and the green hues of her coat and mane. When she spotted a pudgy unicorn chewing on a pinecone, she thought to herself, 'I swear, these Canterlot groups get greener every time.'

Two dozen ponies milled about the large, rustic campsite. Nearly all of them were unicorns that looked like they'd never been outside the city. Several wore designer clothing that had unraveled on the hike in, and most of the stallions tried – and failed – to show their outdoorsponyship by starting a fire, though none had gotten past rubbing two wets stick together.

Evergreen shook her head. 'At least they'll learn something.' She didn't mind these weekend trips that Central organized. After all, they brought a lot of money into the national park system and exposed more ponies to the natural beauty of the forest. She just hated that sinking feeling in her gut, the one that told her she'd be the center of attention whenever there was an issue. At least she had three other Royal Equestrian Rangers to assist her this time around, and with a glance upward, she remembered why she loved this job.

Pine trees towered above, filling the air with sweet scents and occasionally dropping needles onto the campers below. They shielded the campsite from the oppressive sun, and a cool breeze wound around them, comforting the aching campers. Squirrels chittered on the branches, and birds called to each other, looking for friends. Even with all the activity in the campsite (most of it loud complaining), there was a serenity about the forest that made the headaches worthwhile.

'All right, enough day-dreaming. These camper's aren't going to organize themselves.' Evergreen looked over at Corporal Periwinkle. She wished he could give the big speeches, but as Sergeant, it was her duty to lead, and she would do it with a smile on her face. Taking a deep breath, she shouted to the campers, "All right, everypony! Camp's about set up, and it's time for our first hike! It's gonna be a barrel o' fun, so who's with me?"

Most of the Canterlot denizens turned their attention her way, but she found herself looking at an earth pony who was deep into a conversation with a unicorn mare.

"Really?" Ace's ears drooped. "But… we said we were going to spend the whole weekend together."

Nocturne gracefully cocked her head to the side, her bangs gently brushing against her face in that way Ace always found stunning. She spoke with a rich, velvety voice that was perfect for a second soprano like her. "I know, Hunk, but I'm exhausted, and I'd rather just rest and catch up with Minuette."

"You're sure? The guide says it's a pretty easy hike, and…" Ace kicked at the dirt. "I don't want you to feel like I'm abandoning you or… avoiding you or anything." He looked up and made eye contact, and his voice became very heavy. "Not ever again."

Nocturne's eyes softened. "Ace, you're not abandoning me." She narrowed her eyes and gave him a smirk, and her voice dropped a few tones. "It's not like you're sneaking off to go check on the hospital, right? Because I'm pretty sure the construction site's closed for the weekend."

Ace snapped to attention. "Oh, no! Of course not, Babe! No work this weekend." He reached around her neck and pulled her in for a hug. He held her there for a moment, then spoke softly into her ear. "I'm trying to get better. I promise."

She gently nuzzled his cheek with her own. Her voice was soft and smooth. "I know, Hunk. And you're doing great."

"Thanks, Babe." Ace breathed in her scent. Even after the hike, she smelled fresh and delicate and lovely, and his head swam as warmth spread through his body. "Love you so much."

"Love you, too." She rested her chin on his shoulder for a moment before pulling away. "Now go enjoy the hike, and don't worry about me. I'll have my hooves full helping with dinner."

With a cocky smirk and a raised eyebrow, Ace chuckled. "Heh-heh. Since when can you cook?"

Nocturne pouted her lips, but Ace saw a smile creeping up the sides as she half-whined, "Well, I figure there's already going to be a fire, so I can't make things much worse, right?"

Ace smiled. "Ha! All right, all right. Have fun, but let's go stargazing tonight, just the two of us. Deal?"

"Deal." She looked behind him and pointed with a hoof. "Your group's about to leave."

Ace turned his head to see a group of ten ponies gathering by a worn trail. He looked back to Nocturne. "Okay. Have a good time!"

"You, too." As Ace turned and trotted away, she shouted, "And maybe bring back something nice!"

"Sure!" Ace trotted up to the group, though his expression soured when he noticed he was the only earth pony.

Evergreen looked up at him. "Well, wouldja look here. Got ourselves a straggler, eh? So much for that earth pony endurance. Har-har!" When she saw Ace roll his eyes, she tipped her hat to him. "Oh, I'm just teasin'. I'm sure you'll be the leadin' the pack. Now, everypony, my name's Sergeant Evergreen, and I'm pleased as punch to answer any questions ya' got." She gestured to a pale blue unicorn wearing the same clothing, albeit with fewer accoutrements. "This here's Corporal Periwinkle, and he'll be takin' up the rear."

A silver unicorn with a stylishly coiffed mane and thick Canterlot accent raised a hoof. "I say, are you quite sure this excursion is completely safe?"

Evergreen chuckled. "Har-har! Well, now, I could tell ya' some horror stories, but I guarantee you'll be safe with me." She leaned in and, with a wink, pseudo-whispered, "It's Perry ya' gotta watch out for. He tends to lose a few each trip."

Several of the gathered campers gave small but sincere laughs.

Evergreen straightened up. "Okay, then! Sounds like everypony's ready, so let's march!"

Ace slowed down. The rest of the group was falling behind again, so he stopped by a large, fallen tree to appreciate the scenery. A lush valley lie at the bottom of a crevasse, with deeply green grasses and a shallow river, and a large cliff face dominated the skyline, jutting out into the blue. It was steep but not utterly sheer – a pony could traverse it if he was careful enough – and there were plenty of small rocks and hoof-holds that looked strong enough to support a full-grown pony. In the middle of the cliff face, catching the afternoon sunlight, was a patch of green bushes with full, purple bulbs. Ace fixated on them: the color, so similar to Nocturne's, struck him, accentuated by the orange cliff walls in the afternoon sun. They swayed gently in the breeze, hypnotizing in their movements.

Ace stared at the bulbs even as the rest of the hiking party, most of them out of breath, trudged behind him.

Evergreen stopped nearby. "Scopin' the Songblooms, eh?"

Ace looked over his shoulder and cocked an eyebrow. "The what?"

"Those purple flowers o'er yonder." Evergreen pointed to them. "Quite the sight if you can manage to grow 'em."

Ace turned back to them. "They're nice."

"Oh ya! Pretty special too. See, they're called Songblooms because, supposedly, they only bloom when they hear beautiful music." She giggled. "Funny little folk tale, eh?"

Ace's eyes widened, and his brain tingled. "Is it true?"

"Well, it's hard to say. We used to sell the seeds at the interpretive center, but most ponies don't buy 'em. Hard to grow a cliff-side flower on a windowsill. Har-har!"

Ace stared at them for a long moment.

'Bring back something nice.'

He cleared his throat. "Uh… Can we pick them?"

"Well, I'm afraid you're a little limited in that department," Evergreen said, flaring out her wings. She didn't notice Ace's sudden scowl. "They're pretty inaccessible to earth ponies. Probably just better to leave 'em be." She folded her wings back down. "Now, we might wanna mosey, uh, Ace, was it?"

Ace was quiet for a moment. "Yes, it is."

"Well, Ace, the group's gettin' ahead, and I'd hate to leave somepony behind. Let's get a move on!" With a flap of her wings, Evergreen launched herself toward the front of the group.

Ace followed at a slow pace for several minutes, slow enough that Corporal Periwinkle had to encourage him to hurry. The two of them lingered at the back, hardly talking until Ace leaned in and said, "Pardon me, Corporal, but I forgot to mention: Evergreen said she had something important to tell you."

With a sharp whisper, Evergreen sniped, "Again, Perry!?" Her eyes were narrow, and she loomed over a cowering Periwinkle.

Periwinkle's pupils constricted, and he glanced over at the huddled mass of unicorns, all with wide eyes pointed directly at him. Periwinkle gulped and turned back to Evergreen. "I-I'm sorry, Sergeant! He said you had asked for me, which seemed plausible, a-and–"

Evergreen sighed and regained her composure. "Yer lucky I can't demote you any further, Corporal. Central's gonna hear about this."

Straightening up, Evergreen flipped her expression back to a cheery smile and turned to the group of hikers, which was missing its earth pony. "Wouldn't ya' know it? We got ourselves a wandering vine shaped like a stallion! Sorry everypony, but it looks like we gotta cut the hike a little short."

The sweaty hikers let out sighs of relief as goofy grins spread across their faces.

Evergreen pointed a hoof to Periwinkle, which made him flinch. "The Corporal here'll take ya' back to base camp. Everypony find a buddy and stick together, ya' hear?"

Periwinkle organized the remaining ponies into four pairs, and Evergreen, with a terrifyingly friendly smile at Periwinkle, spread her wings and took off up through the canopy.

Evergreen dashed through the sky, doubling back over the trail and scanning for hints of grey or dark blue. 'Ya' haven't lost one yet, Green. You'll find him.'

She recounted the Royal Equestrian Rangers' procedures for lost campers – she knew them all by heart – and mentally prepared for several different scenarios. 'If he's a poacher, fly to base for backup. If he's hurt, I've got my flare. If he's hysterical, stick 'im with a sedative and wait until help arrives. If there's timberwolf trouble…'

She smirked. 'Well, it won't be trouble for long.'

A spot of grey and dark blue caught her eye. "There!" The hint of a smile started to creep across her face until the rest of the picture filled in. "Oh, for Pete's…"

Ace was shakily climbing across the cliff face, high above the river and a bed of jagged rocks. He'd made decent progress, sticking to a narrow path that jutted from the cliff.

Evergreen stared down at the chasm below Ace, and her pulse quickened. A fall might be survivable, but she couldn't be sure. 'Hold on, Ace. Yer not gonna be the first.'

Evergreen tilted her wings and spiraled downward on a warm wind. She chewed her lip, and her mind buzzed with possible scenarios. 'Talk him down. Catch him. Use your authority. Get another Ranger. Grab him and guide him back.' She patted the small saddlebag on her back. 'Shoot a flare. Stick him with a tranquilizer. Bribe him.'

Appealing to authority seemed like a good place to start. She hovered several yards behind Ace and said loudly, "Ace, this is Sergeant Evergreen of the Royal Equestrian Rangers! I hereby order you to turn back around this instant!"

Ace looked over his shoulder at Evergreen, then back to the cliff. His hooves slowly found purchase, and Ace tested every hoof-hold before he put any weight on it. He didn't slow down.

'Direct approach doesn't seem to be working,' she thought. 'Talk him down. Catch him. Get another Ranger. Grab him and guide him back. Shoot a flare. Stick him with a tranquilizer. Bribe him.'

Evergreen dropped the harshness in her voice and tried to sound friendlier. "Ace, what're ya' doin'? You could get hurt up here, and I know a pretty little mare that would be awful upset if her coltfriend came back in pieces."

Ace sighed and turned his head. His voice was calm, like he didn't know he was rock-climbing with no equipment. "I'll be fine. I just need to do one thing, and I promise I'll head back." He continued shimmying across the rock.

At each little flinch, Evergreen's heart skipped a beat, but she remained calm. "Well, Ace, you leave me no choice, then. I'm gonna shoot a flare, and before you know it, a buncha Rangers will be on you like moss on a rock, and then you'll be in real trouble."

Ace paused.

Evergreen relaxed. "There we go. Let's–"

"You do that." Ace moved faster than before, no longer checking his grip so carefully.

Evergreen's eyes widened, and she cursed under her breath. With a quick hoof, she retrieved a flare from her pack. 'Don't scare him.' "Ace, I'm firing in three, two, one..."

FWOOSH!

A pink flare streaked into the sky, leaving a smoking contrail behind it.

As soon as she turned around, she found that Ace had redoubled his efforts.

'Catch him. Grab him and guide him back. Stick him with a tranquilizer. Bribe him. '

Evergreen felt a chill run up her spine.

'Grab him and guide him back.'

She moved closer to Ace and reached out a hoof. "Now, Ace, I'm going to–"

Ace kicked a hoof out, batting her away. "Stay back! I don't– GAH!" The rock beneath Ace's left hind hoof crumbled, and he scrambled to another part of the rock.

Reflexively, Evergreen swooped down to catch him, or at least slow him down. When Ace held fast, she flew up behind him again.

'Catch him. Stick him with a tranquilizer. Bribe him.'

Her options kept playing through her mind, and so did all the ways they could go wrong. 'Tranq him, and he might fall, and I don't have the strength to carry such a big guy. Talk to him, and he'll just ignore me again. That leaves…'

She looked around at the cliff-side and spotted the Songbloom bush. Her hoof met her face with a loud slap. "Ace, ya' hoser! Yer doin' this for a flower?"

Ace sighed. "Yes, and I'm almost there, so…" He looked down. "I can do this." His voice was shaky. "I-I can do this."

'Bribe him.'

"Ace, I'll get ya' yer flowers, as many as you want, okay? Just head back to the trail. Ya' gotta know yer limits."

Ace shuddered and snapped at Evergreen, "My only limit is a high-and-mighty pegasus that doesn't know when to buzz off. I'll be fine!"

Evergreen's wings ached for a rest, and her cheeks flushed with anger, but she quickly got her emotions under control. She looked again at the Songbloom bush. 'If those flowers are the problem…'

Evergreen dashed over to the bush. They flowers were even more beautiful up close. Each bulb, plump and soft, looked like it had been hoof-painted a mix of deep purple hues, streaked with a single white line on each of the petals. They looked like plump fruit, full to bursting with life and so perfect that you wouldn't dare eat them.

She shook her head. 'Focus!' With quick hooves, she yanked a hoofful of flowers from their roots. It almost hurt to destroy something so delicate. There were nearly a hundred, yes, but if she could get them all, then–

"I-I'll jump!"

Evergreen's whole body tensed, and she dropped a few feet before her wings had stabilized her position. She cranked her head to the side to see Ace leaning away from the edge. His eyes were narrowed, but his chest heaved with heavy breaths. "D-Don't think I won't!"

Evergreen's legs went slack, and her jaw hung wide open.

'Uh…'

She drifted backwards from the cliff, letting the leaves and blossoms fall from her hooves and blow away. She kept her eyes trained on Ace and tried to think.

'Uh…'

She knew he was bluffing. Knew it.

..But what if he wasn't?

'…'

Her throat felt dry. Her eyes refused to blink. Her brain felt like it had short-circuited, and her limbs felt heavy. The feeling in her body was foreign, wrong. She didn't like it, but she couldn't make it stop.

For the first time since she'd joined the Rangers, Evergreen didn't know what to do.

Ace looked back at the bush. His heart pounded, and sweat dripped down his brow and into his eyes. His muscles ached, but he was so, so close. He could see it: nearby, there was a small landing where he could get his balance, and then, with a leap, he could climb up to an outcrop where he could pick the flowers.

Without thinking, he looked down again, and his stomach jumped to his chest. The rocks below him seemed to spin, both close and far away at the same time. His jaw quivered, and a strong gust of wind nearly knocked him down.

He glanced toward Evergreen. His bluff had shut her up, if only for a moment. He could tell she was getting tired from the raggedness of her voice, but as soon as the other Rangers arrived, they'd be more than enough to overpower him.

His heart sank. His efforts wouldn't be enough. He was an earth pony, and that meant he was limited.

A stupid, limited earth pony.

Ace hesitated…

…until he imagined giving the flower to Nocturne, showing her how committed he was, and proving that she'd never have to doubt again.

Ace grit his teeth and blinked away a tear. 'I'm *not** limited. I can be better. Nocturne deserves better.*'

More dust blew into his face, and his eyes watered as he desperately tried not to sneeze. His body shook.

"Ace, please! I-I… I…" Evergreen was stammering. He hadn't heard her stammer before. "Just let me help!"

Ace took a deep breath and, tensing his forelegs, pulled himself to the nearby landing. Shaking out his limbs, he looked up. It was right there. Just one more–

He felt a sharp sting on his flank.

And then, nothing. He felt nothing in his flank, then his leg, then his tail. The nothing spread throughout his body, and he whipped his head around to see a needle jammed into him.

Though her hooves shook, Evergreen spoke calmly and evenly. "Ace, I've stuck you with a tranquilizer. You're going to get sleepy now, but i-it will be okay."

Ace tried to say something, but his lips felt funny.

"Just lie down now."

Ace turned to the flowers. He was so close. He just needed to…

"Ace!"

With the last of his strength, Ace pushed himself into the air. He shot forward and reached out a hoof. It was there. He grit his teeth harder and fought to keep his vision from failing. Just a little more. The flowers were getting closer. And closer. And closer.

And further. Ace's eyes felt heavy, and his foreleg went slack. His vision blurred, and the only feeling left was an odd tickling in his stomach. His neck twisted, forced to the side by a hard smack that be barely felt. Something white was sticking out of his hind leg, which was bent in a way that it shouldn't have been.

And the river was getting closer. And closer. And closer.

"You know, if I find out you did this just so you could check in at work, I'm breaking your other hind leg."

Lying on his back, Ace could see the crusty light fixtures and decades-old artwork of the oldest wing of Canterlot General Hospital, an affront to the good work the ponies did there. The walls were painted a sickening yellow-orange, and the curtain on the window had a rainbow spiral design that clashed with everything.

He also saw his right hind leg propped up and in a cast.

But even with the painkillers making things hazy, he could always pick out Nocturne. Her beauty was one in a million, and her voice was the only one like it in the world.

His head rolled to the side. "I'm sorry, Babe. I… I was…" Ace shook his head to clear the fog, but his words were still slurred. "I wanted to..."

"Shh..." Nocturne rubbed his chest with a gentle hoof. "It's okay. Evergreen told me what happened."

"I… ruined the trip." Ace frowned. "Sorry we didn't go stargazing. Or try any of your… of your food."

Nocturne chuckled. "Hm-hm! Well, we're together now, at least. And don't worry about the food. I…" Her face scrunched up, and she glanced away. "…sort of burned the soup."

Despite the heaviness in his chest, Ace managed to laugh. "Heh. How do you burn soup?"

"Ugh!" Nocturne flipped her mane and griped, "So there were all these potatoes and carrots, and somepony said they were easy, so that I could, like, leave them there for twenty minutes or something." She gestured to her chest and went wide-eyed. "I mean, how was I supposed to know you need to keep stirring so the ones at the bottom don't get burned?" She furrowed her eyebrows at him. "Did you know that?"

Ace smiled. "Yeah, I did."

She was complaining, yes, but she was talking to him like any other day, like she always would after a rehearsal went poorly or when a concert was going to be out of town and they couldn't see each other for a week. For a moment, he felt normal.

"Well, I didn't." She sighed and looked at Ace. Her eyes were soft and sparkly. "So, yeah, don't worry about the food."

The room was still, and Ace enjoyed just listening to her breathing. As nice as it was, however, his guilt prodded at his chest. "I wanted to bring… bring you something nice. So you know I… I care."

Nocturne leaned in and hugged him. "I already know that, Hunk. You don't have to do something stupid for me like that. I love you, Ace."

Ace's foreleg felt weak, though he didn't know if it was from the painkillers or the rock-climbing. Regardless, he wrapped a leg around her. Her warmth soothed him. It chased away all the nothing in his body and left a feeling that he only got from her. "Love you, too, Nocturne."

After several moments, Nocturne pulled away. "By the way, Evergreen was super sorry."

Ace cocked his head to the side. "Why?"

"She said it was her job to keep you safe, and she felt bad that she couldn't, so she sent this with me." A field of magic surrounded Nocturne's horn, and she levitated a small gift bag with an attached letter onto Ace's bed.

Ace sat up, opened the letter, and read aloud:

--

Hey there, Ace,

Maybe it's not my place, but I'm sorry for what happened to your leg. I wish you–

--

Ace stopped reading suddenly. "Huh."

"What?"

"I… half expected her to write with that… ridiculous accent."

Nocturne threw her head back. "Ha!"

--

I wish you would have listened to reason, but I apologize for sticking you. If you're ever up by Vanhoover again, I'd be happy to take you two on a proper hike. Just no rock-climbing this time.

Hope you don't mind, but I sent Nocturne home with a little something. You seemed to think it was important, after all.

Best wishes,

Evergreen

--

Ace let the letter slip from his hooves and opened the bag. Inside was a potted plant, one with a distinctly closed purple bulb.

Ace smiled. "Heh."

Nocturne stuck out her lower lip. "What is it?"

Ace told her. He told her all about the Songbloom and why he had tried so hard to get it for her. He told her that it was special, just like her, and that he knew her voice would be perfect for opening it up. "Because you're the best… best marefriend ever, Nocturne. I love you so much."

Nocturne wore a quivering smile, and she blinked away a few tears.

Ace nuzzled her under the chin. "So go on…"

Nocturne cleared her throat and closed her eyes. She paused for a moment, then serenaded Ace with a lullaby, the special one she only sang when he was sick. Her rich voice filled the room, and even more than that, it filled his soul. While she sang, he forgot about the pain in his leg and the fear that they wouldn't stay together. He forgot his guilt. He forgot about work. While she sang, everything else melted away until it was just the two of them.

When she finished, Ace looked eagerly at the flower. His chest swelled with the hope that it had all been worth it, that Nocturne would finally see how special she was to him.

The bulb hadn't opened.

Ace slumped forward. He felt the weight of his stupidity pushing down on him, and he wanted to crawl someplace far away, out of anypony's sight. "I'm sorry…"

Nocturne shrugged. "Meh. Maybe next time." She levitated the flower over to a nearby table. "Really, don't worry about it. It's just a legend, and they're just flowers."

Ace blushed. "Then… flowers must not have… good taste." He looked up. Even as defeated as he felt, the radiance in Nocturne's eyes and the soft, sincere smile on her face told him that his efforts hadn't been in vain.

"Mm… No, they don't." Nocturne leaned in again and, with a warm nuzzle on his cheek, held him tightly. "But I do."

Round 1, Paring S: Ace Artisan vs. Staccato Spark

The cool light from the gem lamps bathed the streets of Canterlot in a soft, purple glow. The shops had posted their "Closed" signs, replete with pictures of smiling ponies and promises of returning in the morning. A stiff breeze rolled through the nigh deserted streets, and many of the wooden buildings whined about their age. The moon was a waning crescent, shining its light down on the few ponies whose hooves still clacked against the worn cobblestones. The city slept.

It was the kind of night that Ace Artisan would normally have enjoyed, but the day had been unkind. He wound through the main roads, eyes cast downward and brows furrowed. His quick, deep breaths sounded like growls, and his heavy steps pounded against the street while thoughts of his work at the architecture firm still lingered in his head.

'Should I push harder on widening the hallways, at least?' he thought. 'True, it would be more expensive, but it's a damn hospital! When a pony's life is on the line, what does it matter? Ugh, writing that proposal would take all night. Boss would probably just shoot it down, anyway.'

Ace paused his trudge and sat in front of a large, ornate building. 'And I probably look like Tartarus, too.' He rubbed his bloodshot eyes with a purplish-gray fetlock, then shook out his midnight blue mane. Looking down at his disheveled shirt and jacket, he straightened out the collar and refastened one of the buttons that had come undone.

With a deep breath, he cleared his throat and looked up to see his destination, the Autumn Melody Memorial Conservatory. 'Built eighty years ago. Canterlot Construction, Inc. Head architect Perfect Scale. First building in Canterlot to incorporate both beveled glass and curved steel for solely aesthetic purposes.' With a sigh, he stood up, a weak smile on his face. 'And concert hall for the prettiest mare in Equestria.'

Ace rushed up two flights of stone stairs, stopping just in front of the green glass doors that bubbled out toward him, as if the building was struggling to contain all the music within. He reached for the handle, but he stopped when he saw a murky shape inside quickly growing larger.

Very quickly.

"Gah!" Ace shouted as a pegasus burst out of the door, knocking him onto his flanks. "Hey! Watch it!"

The streak of grayish blue and yellow halted in midair and whipped around at him. "Y-you watch it!" Her voice shook. "Some of us have places to be!"

Ace hopped to his hooves, his fur bristling. "Yeah, and we'd like to get there in one piece! You don't need to…" He stood up straight when he noticed the pegasus repeatedly blinking and rubbing at her eyes. "Uh… Are you alright, ma'am?"

"I'm fine," she grumbled, turning away.

"Really? Because you look like you've been crying."

The pegasus threw her forehooves up in the air and turned away. "This stupid committee won't let me perform! My show's one-of-a-kind, but it's like they don't even care! And it's so hard for soloists to find performance halls! But whatever! I don't want to be in such a stuck up place full of namby-pamby classical frou-frou performers that don't know what real music is, anyway!"

Ace narrowed his gaze at the pegasus, and his voice became flat. "Some ponies prefer singing the namby-pamby stuff. Like… my marefriend, for instance."

The pegasus' limbs went rigid, and she looked over her shoulder with wide eyes. "Oh! Uh…" She floated down to the ground and averted her gaze. "S-sorry. I didn't mean, like, your marefriend. I'm sure she's great."

Ace sat down and stared at the building. He felt a pull towards it – he'd promised to pick up Nocturne from her rehearsal in a few minutes, but truthfully, he didn't want to deal with the rest of the singers, either. It didn't help that they were almost all unicorns. Ace patted the flask in his jacket and thought to himself, 'It's, what, Tuesday? Take a drink whenever somepony asks if I work here.'

Ace turned back to his new acquaintance. "It's alright." He extended a hoof. "I'm Ace Artisan, by the way. What's your name?"

The pegasus perked up. "Staccato Spark, Stunt Violinist Extraordinaire!" She extended a wing and used it to shake Ace's hoof.

Ace hid a sneer, wondering to himself why a regular hoofshake wasn't good enough.

He let that thought roll out of his mind and tried to empathize with his new acquaintance. Nocturne had come home worrying about auditions plenty of times, and it was never easy on her to get a rejection after what she'd considered an excellent performance. It wasn't much different from losing an architectural bid, he figured. "Sorry the audition didn't go well. Did you feel good about it, at least?"

Staccato rolled her eyes and went right back to ranting. "That's the thing!" Staccato leapt into the air and flew in a small, tight loop. "I nailed all my stunts, and I even pulled off the double-barrel dive bomb, which I know they haven't seen before. I was great!" She hovered in place, but after a moment, her features drooped. "At least, I thought I was."

Ace's head involuntarily shook, and he tried to blink away his confusion. "What? Stunts?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah. I play violin while I fly. Pretty neat, huh?" Her chest puffed out.

Ace cocked his head to the side, still trying to wrap his head around how flying would even work while playing a stringed instrument. "No, I meant, how do you feel about your music? Did you play it well?"

"Totally." She dropped back to the ground and took a few steps forward. "I even debuted a new song. I mean, yeah, I kinda threw it together when my sister got me the audition out of nowhere, but it rocked! It was a violin rendition of Meghan Trotter's new single, 'Dear Future Stallion.' You know it?"

Ace nodded. "I do, but…" He ran his tongue over his teeth, trying to find the right words. "That doesn't really seem appropriate." He shrugged his shoulders. "They play more classical stuff here, like you said."

Ace looked out over the city. When he squinted, he could see his office. Memories of his day came flooding back: his coworkers dismissing his new designs, the managers recommending the same treatment as the previous hospital despite the known issues, and the looks everypony gave him when he pushed for something new. "They were probably insulted that you didn't want to do things their way."

"How would you know?" Staccato spat. "You a janitor here or somethin'?"

Ace quietly reached into his jacket, drew out his flask, and took a drink.

Returning the flask to his pocket, he looked back at Staccato. "No, but ponies get bent out of shape when you don't conform to their expectations."

For a moment, the only sound was the breeze blowing through Staccato's wings, which hung at her sides. Her voice cooled. "Feh. You don't know the half of it."

"Actually, I do. I'm not a janitor. I'm an architect."

Staccato raised an eyebrow. "Sounds boring."

Ace flashed her a glare. "It's not. You have to deal with a lot of the same stuff. There's a way that ponies are used to doing things, and if you want to try something new, you get shut down. You have to learn to deal with it."

Staccato was quiet for a moment before her cheeks flushed red. "Well, it's not my fault if they've got bad taste in music!"

Ace snorted and set his shoulders. "No, but it is your decision to show up with a song they'd never showcase."

"So what?" Staccato shot daggers with her eyes. "So I should just give in a-and do whatever everypony else wants me to do?" She hopped into the air and hovered above Ace, looking down at him. "You really think that's better than trying to be the best?"

Ace's breathing picked up, and his heart felt knotted. He tried to tell her to that there would be other auditions and that she should just move on, but whenever he opened his mouth, he remembered how wrong it felt to give up his designs for the hospital, and the words caught in his throat. It didn't help that she was literally looking down at him, and it took all of Ace's willpower not to shout her down and put her in her place.

Staccato didn't wait for him to respond. "You don't get it. You're just like those snooty unicorns. You're just a stupid earth pony architect that doesn't know the first thing about music or flying or anything!"

Ace felt something in his brain snap. His blood boiled. He stomped, lowered his head, and cast an icy glare at Staccato. "Yeah? Well, at least I'm not so delusional that I expect everything on a silver platter!"

His voice bounced around the staircase, eventually fading to a deafening quiet.

Staccato stared at him, eyes wide, as she slowly sunk down to the ground. Her lip quivered, and she hid behind her wings. The two ponies stood there, frozen for several seconds.

The heat vanished from Ace's veins, and he cursed himself for yelling at the shivering pony in front of him.

Ace sat down and rubbed his temples. "Sorry, sorry... I shouldn't have yelled." Word spilled out of his mouth, and he felt like he couldn't control his tongue. "Rough day. We're designing a new wing for Canterlot General, and everypony thinks my designs are too expensive to implement, even though we'll get bigger patient rooms and wider hallways that way. They think I'm just trying to be a big shot. And, yeah, maybe I am, but it still seems like a good idea. They don't even want to give me a chance, and I'm stuck wondering if I should risk ticking somepony off or–"

"You really think I'm delusional?"

Ace looked up to see Staccato staring at him and frowning.

"I…" Ace looked her in the eye and felt a stab in his chest. He realized how easy it would be to backpedal or outright lie, but something about Staccato told him she could handle the truth. "If you think you're going to perform here, then yeah, you're fooling yourself." His insides began to untangle.

Staccato slumped. "I just–"

"I mean, if you've got a dream – and it sounds like you do – then pursue it ruthlessly. I have no idea how you would even begin to make the acoustics work with stunt flying, but if you can make it happen, then, well…" He shrugged his shoulders again. "I have a lot of respect for your tenacity. The world needs more ponies that can take those risks."

Staccato looked up, a small smile on her lips.

"But this?" Ace gestured to the conservatory. "This isn't the place to make it happen. You can't just show up at the last minute and expect everything to go your way. Instead, you need to pick your battles and think hard about how to solve your problems." He took a moment to reflect on his own battles, everything from his job to his ever-deepening relationship with Nocturne, and he smiled. "The best things in life take work."

Staccato looked up at the building for a long time. She rolled her head back and forth, and it took her a few tries to say anything. "Big rooms and hallways are important, right?"

Ace cocked his head to the side, and he felt his left ear flick. "Uh… Yes. They are. The patients will be more comfortable, and it will be safer to quickly transport sick or injured ponies between rooms."

"Better rooms will help everypony." Staccato flapped her wings once. "When my sister was in the hospital, the room was cramped, and it made it tough for the doctors to do everything they needed to." Staccato nodded at Ace. "I know you said that I shouldn't push too hard for this one, but you totally should."

Ace sighed. "Yeah, probably, but I don't want to cause any unnecessary delays. That sort of thing drives me crazy."

"So?" Staccato's voice was sharp. "You've got a good idea. Take it from me, you don't get anywhere playing it safe. You gotta stand out."

"Heh. Even if I'm one of the new guys?" His protest lacked force, which felt oddly satisfying.

"Especially if you're one of the new guys." Staccato reached over and poked him in the chest. "Trust me, you get respect taking life by the horns. Your coworkers are being stupid."

Ace looked down at the ground below him. He pictured himself back at the office, having to slog through more meetings and discussions and excuses about how the bigger spaces weren't worth it.

But then he pictured all the ponies that would be using the hospital, how every single one that came through the door would be more comfortable in a bigger room. He thought about ponies on hospital beds getting shuffled around during an emergency, and if his design helped improve their chances of recovery even a little bit…

Ace chuckled and met Staccato's gaze. "You know what? You're right."

"Of course I'm right. Ponies should really listen to me more often." Staccato jumped to her hooves, flared out her wings, and looked up at the moon. "I'm gonna go vent to a friend for a while, and I should probably start working on my stunts for that birthday party next week, so, uh…" With a smirk, she looked back at Ace. "Thanks for whatever the heck this was."

Ace gave her a large grin and a quick nod. "You, too, and good luck with your job."

"Same to you, buddy. Catch you later!" Staccato hopped into the air and sped off. Ace watched her fly away until she disappeared into the dark blue canopy above.

Taking a breath of the cool air, Ace looked out over Canterlot again. He wondered how many other ponies would be up all night, working on one project or another and resisting the siren call of the warm covers. He sat there until he noticed the time on the clock tower. Eleven o'clock – Nocturne would be done any second. After standing up and stretching out his neck, Ace walked through the doors of the conservatory, already thinking about how to word his new proposal.