No Plan Survives First Contact
Thick, heavy fog held Rumble up in the air like a dangling puppet. All of his world, all he could see, smell, taste, and touch was saturated with lifeless gray, but there was enough substance for his pegasus instincts to bond with and prevent his falling. Relaxing his concentration bit by bit, Rumble sank deeper and deeper until he felt his hoof slip out of the haze. He flipped around and stuck his head back into daylight and a gulp of fresh air.
Ponyville looked almost insignificant with the mile or so separating him from it. He hadn’t visited Cloudsdale since the city floated by last winter, and he struggled to recognize the landmarks from this angle. Town Hall looked no taller than Miss Cheerilee’s schoolhouse this high up, but the familiar field around the playground stood out. His experience on the ground helped him map out the rest of the town, from the festive gold trimming of Miss Rarity’s shop to Sugarcube Corner.
Right under his nose, an orange cord ran the entire length of the fog bank, with maybe a dozen others the weather ponies had connected to the crane up top to contain the whole mass. He strummed the closest one like a guitar string, and his wings tingled with an echo of magic reverberating all around him to keep the fog in place.
And while he was busy with Ponyville and the cord, gravity still hadn’t gotten a hold of him. Rumble stretched his wings in the morass of fog and pulled his head back up with a gentle flap. Again and again he bounced in the fog like a buoy at sea, each time using only a fraction of his wingpower to recover from his short fall. He grinned. “She’s gonna love this.”
A muffled voice came through the fog, and Rumble called, “Down here, Thunderlane!”
His brother swooped down into view a moment later, and pulled up just under him. “What do you think, bro? As good as you remember?”
“Better!” It had been a year since he moved from Cloudsdale, but in all the times he had snuck behind the weather factory with the other kids, he couldn’t remember ever finding a fog bank as thick as this one. Rumble slipped out, flicking his wings to clear his feathers out. “You sure they’re gonna drop it, and not just use it for more clouds? It almost acts like one.”
“Nah, regulations say it’s too low quality for clouds. Some rogue winds kept us from dumping on schedule, so it’s all just clumped into this behemoth. It’s got to go, and Ponyville’s right there.”
Rumble sank his front hooves back in, trying to hang like a fly on the wall, but slipped out when he slowed his wings too much. “And it’s dropping tomorrow? For sure?”
“For sure. Dash’s got me and Cloudchaser scheduled at the crack of dawn to make sure it hits the flower fields like the Mayor wants.” He bumped Rumble, smirking. “Plenty of time for us to get home and take you to your girlfriend’s party.”
Rumble blushed. “She-she’s not my girlfriend.”
“Not with that attitude, she won’t be!”
A burst of speed shot Rumble over the top, and his legs sank almost halfway into the bank before it supported his weight. His wings were folded to his body again, though. That was the key. Everything he knew about Scootaloo said that she loved just doing stuff. Running, scooting, playing, crusading, she was happy when she was active, but Rumble had never seen her fly. Thunderlane wasn’t even sure if she could.
If he could give her a taste of what growing up in the clouds was like...
Thunderlane poked his head up. “Ready to head back home yet?”
He scrunched his face in thought. Scootaloo did all kinds of tricks on her scooter, not to mention she got to hang out with Rainbow Dash of all ponies. If he gave Scootaloo the chance to do cool things, she’d expect to be able to do something cool. Rumble tried to jump, but the fog clung to his legs far too much for him to get any respectable spring. Almost a cloud. But not the same. “Do you think she’ll like it?”
“You’re letting a girl that’s never flown have a chance to swim through thin air. I think she’ll love it.” Thunderlane grinned. “On one condition, of course. You actually have to ask her to come check it out with you. Scared?”
Rumble doubled over in laughter. Thunderlane had been the first one Rumble came to for advice about his crush when the invitation to Scootaloo’s birthday party came. He had been the one that stopped Rumble’s search for the perfect gift with the news of the incoming fog. And now he was doubting his own brother? “What kind of question is that?”
“A simple one!” Thunderlane pulled him into a headlock and ground a hoof against his head.
Rumble wrestled out of his grip. “What do I need to be scared of a filly for? I’ve got a brother and his girlfriend teaching me flying tricks they picked up from the Wonderbolts!” He leapt over the edge, angling his wings to go into a corkscrew dive. Thunderlane caught up to him, and Rumble pulled up into a barrel weave around him before the brothers settled into a steady glide towards the ground.
“Point taken,” Thunderlane said, smiling. “But every colt has a plan to talk to a filly until the spotlight falls on him. Just don’t buckle under your own pressure, yeah?”
“Why would I buckle under the pressure? I’m just asking her out to play at a birthday party. This is going to be—”
“—just a terrible, horrible, no-good, very bad idea.”
Thunderlane drained his glass of punch and tossed a look to Cloudchaser sitting next to him. “Called it.”
Rumble clenched his teeth and looked away from their corner table. Sugarcube Corner was packed for the party—packed with ponies and games in the separate party room, packed with a stacked gift table and punch stand with spare tables in the main entrance, and packed with streamers and balloons everywhere and anywhere there was to look.
A cheerful tune played over the din from the party guests, and he saw fillies and colts, mares and stallions all enjoying themselves in the other room. He guessed everypony in Scootaloo’s class had been invited. It seemed that way with all the familiar faces he’d counted, and Miss Cheerilee was there to help any parents or older siblings with watching over the little ones.
Everypony was having fun. Having a good time. Without him doing anything at all. “Look, this is a mistake. Let’s just go back home.”
“No can do, bro.” Thunderlane mussed his mane with the tips of his feathers. “You accepted the invitation, so she’s expecting to see you here. You don’t want to let her down on her birthday, do you?”
Rumble slapped his wing away and looked up to Cloudchaser. “Help me out here!”
“I already did, kiddo.” Cloudchaser ran a hoof up Thunderlane’s leg. “Who do you think knocked on your door this morning to make sure this one got to work on time? The fog’s waiting for the two of you whenever you’re ready for it.” She stole a glance at a clock. “At least for a few more hours. Time’s a wastin’.”
Rumble bit his lip. “What do I do?”
“Ask her,” Thunderlane said bluntly.
“But what do I do?”
Cloudchaser shrugged. “Get out there and mingle. When you spot her, tell her about the fog and ask if she wants to try it out with you.”
Rumble glanced over his shoulder to the party room. A round of laughter rang out from the apple-bobbing bucket, and he wondered if Scootaloo was at the center of it. Or any of the games. Even if she wasn’t, Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle would probably be close by. Scootaloo would be busy either way. “But what do I do?”
“You get me a refill,” Thunderlane said, pushing his empty glass across the table, smirking. “Maybe the exercise will clear your head.”
“A what?” Rumble stammered some more indignation, but the smirk on his brother’s face didn’t change. He glanced at Cloudchaser, but she fixed a smile at him after a quick look towards the line. Sighing, Rumble snatched the glass and turned away from the table.
Rumble kept his head down—scooting around Miss Cheerilee chatting with a mare he didn’t recognize, ducking under a leaping Pinkie Pie as she tackled some newcomers with a hug—and soon found himself in line at the punch bowl. More laughter spilled over from the other room, and he kicked at the wall separating him from it.
She was over there somewhere. Scootaloo wasn’t the type of filly to stay away from the action, especially at her own party. But since that was true, what in the world would make her bail out just to spend time with him? He’d have to make it sound awesome to impress her. It wasn’t a fog bank, it was a... training ground.
He frowned, scratching that one off. It was a... launch pad. It was... gravity defying. That one sounded good. Gravity defying. He could take her to a gravity defying... launch pad... of training. Rumble blew a raspberry.
The ponies ahead of him shuffled out of the way, and Scootaloo walked by, laughing with Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle.
Rumble’s spine jolted paralyzing lightning through every one of his limbs. There was absolutely nothing wrong with the way things were right now, his brain reasoned. If he couldn’t move, he couldn’t do anything to ruin a good thing. Like talking. Or do anything until she was gone.
Scootaloo smiled. “Hey Rumble.” And they were gone, turning into the party room.
With the danger passed, his muscles woke back up, and Rumble filled up the punch glass without incident. He made his way back to the table, where Thunderlane was waiting with his face buried in crossed forelegs, and Cloudchaser rubbing his back. “Here you go, Thunderlane.”
The glass just sat on the table.
Rumble frowned at Cloudchaser. “What’s wrong with him?”
Thunderlane dragged his head up like he was trying to lift the weight of the whole world up with it. His eyes stared at nothing, and he sighed, a ragged sound that carried a rattle from Tartarus itself. Another exasperated grunt escaped him, and his gaze jumped around the room with each one, until it finally settled on Rumble. “Dude.”
Rumble's cheeks flushed. “Wh-what?”
“Dude.”
“What did I do?”
Thunderlane pounded his hooves on the table and thrust them towards the punch bowl. “I set you up perfectly!”
“You...” He glanced at Cloudchaser, at the smile threatening to split her face. “You both saw her there? What were you thinking?! I could have walked right into her!”
Cloudchaser spit out a laugh before her hoof slapped to her mouth.
Thunderlane groaned, sinking back down to the table. “You were supposed to walk into her. That’s how you talk to someone. After dragging me all the way to Cloudsdale yesterday just so you could check the weather, I swear that you’re not leaving this party until you talk to this girl.”
“Fine,” Rumble said. “So what do I do? I can’t ask her now.”
Cloudchaser took a sip from the unclaimed glass. “What makes you say that? She’s here. You’re here. What else is there to think about?”
“It’s too crowded in there.” He watched Pinkie Pie carry a tray of cupcakes into the next room. Rumble shuddered to think of the reaction if she caught wind of what was going on. The last thing he wanted was a huge attention grabbing You Made a Date! song and dance when Scootaloo only agreed to go play with him outside for a little bit. Or any kind of announcement that would only draw more witnesses when Scootaloo answered yes or no.
He paled. What if Scootaloo said no? She’d laugh right in his face. Why should she leave her party for his sake? She’d laugh, and tell her friends, and they’d all laugh too. The whole room would be laughing at him in two minutes, tops. “A-anypony could hear us. I can’t do it in there. She won’t—”
Thunderlane grabbed Cloudchaser’s hoof, and pulled her in for a quick kiss on her lips.
Rumble’s next thought squeaked away, watching in a daze as Cloudchaser swiped her feathers across Thunderlane’s face, then leaned against him with one of his wings around her.
“It’s just part of being together,” Thunderlane said. “You’re not gonna spend all your time in private, after all.” He craned his neck in an exaggerated scan of the room. “And no one’s saying a word about us sitting like this. They’re not gonna bat an eye if they see a colt talking to a filly at a party.”
Cloudchaser jabbed Thunderlane in the ribs. “Just give Scootaloo some warning before you pull that move.”
Rumble pinned his burning ears out of sight. “I don’t know...”
“Tell you what: let us give you a distraction. We’ll draw some attention, then you find Scootaloo and ask her to head outside with you right under everyone’s nose.” Cloudchaser slid out from the table, tugging Thunderlane’s foreleg. “You owe me a dance, hot stuff.”
He grinned and winked at Rumble as they walked away. “Watch and learn. Scootaloo might be dragging you onto the dance floor sooner or later.”
“That, I could handle,” Rumble muttered. Agility, rhythm, timing, he was used to those. If he could fly in a tornado next to dozens of other pegasi, he could move in place for a few minutes, no matter who was next to him.
Cloudchaser whispered in Pinkie Pie’s ear, and Pinkie’s excited squeal drew a few curious looks from the other room before she shot upstairs in a blur, leaving Cloudchaser and Thunderlane to push a few tables and chairs to clear some space. Pinkie rushed by them a moment later with a record around the tip of her tail, and she whipped it into the player.
Rumble didn’t recognize the synthesized beats that came over the speakers, but Miss Cheerilee certainly did. Her laughter boomed over the music, and she zipped onto the floor, jumping and twirling and laughing along with Thunderlane and Cloudchaser.
Thunderlane draped a leg over Cloudchaser and pulled her into a private dance while more and more of the adult ponies streamed in from the party. Applejack pushed a playfully resisting Rarity into the center of the impromptu stage, and soon all Rumble could see of them were their manes bouncing in the air. Pinkie Pie swayed in place with Miss Berry Punch, both of them waving a mug in hoof as their voices joined the lyrics.
The fillies and colts crowded on the other side of the dancing ponies, and a flash from Featherweight’s camera only egged them on more. A horde of mares joined the chorus in singing they wanted to have fun. Thunderlane and Cloudchaser were soon hovering over them to make room, but they didn’t seem to mind. They smiled and bobbed their heads, kicking their hooves together to the beat.
Cloudchaser caught his eye. Her smile faded for a heartbeat, and she jerked her chin towards the crowd of kids watching them.
Some of them joined in singing the next chorus, some starting to sway in time with the music, but most stared in bewilderment at the older ponies having their fun. The Cutie Mark Crusaders belonged to the former, and Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom dashed to join their sisters. Scootaloo hung back, tapping her hooves in rhythm.
Alone.
On the other side of the dancing mob.
Rumble sipped his punch.
The song ended, and the mares stamped their hooves, whooping and cheering. Pinkie replaced the record, and a cheerful tune played in the background again. The dance floor dispersed, and Thunderlane and Cloudchaser headed back his way.
Rumble smiled up at them. “Not bad.”
Neither returned his smile. Thunderlane whispered something in her ear, and Cloudchaser gave a silent nod. “To your credit,” she said, sliding back into place at their table, “you didn’t run and hide in the bathroom. But you didn’t exactly do what I asked, did you?”
Rumble blinked. “Hide in the bathroom? Why would I hide in the bathroom?”
“Not important,” Thunderlane blurted out. “What matters is that you didn’t go talk to her. Again.”
“There were ponies in my way!”
They both spread their wings.
Rumble’s head smacked on the table, and he covered it with his hooves.
“You know what the problem is, Rumble?” Thunderlane pulled his hooves down. “It’s not other ponies. It’s not your plan. It’s not even Scootaloo. It’s you. There’s always going to be something. She’s too far, she’s too close, it’s too hot, it’s too cold, I should wait another minute, I should have done it five minutes ago.” He pointed behind him. “She just walked back in with Apple Bloom. Go right now. You flew all the way to Cloudsdale for her yesterday, but you’re not going to walk across the room and talk to her? Go now. It’s as good a chance as you’ll get.”
Rumble fiddled a hoof on the floor. “What... what do I even say to her?”
“Hi,” Thunderlane said.
“Hello,” Cloudchaser answered.
“How are you?” Thunderlane suggested.
“Happy Birthday!” Cloudchaser chirped.
Rumbles ears drooped. “Okay, I get it.”
“What’s up?” Thunderlane put forth.
“Having fun?” Cloudchaser piped in.
“Nice party,” Thunderlane added.
“Could I talk to you for a second?” Cloudchaser offered.
Rumble glanced over his shoulder to see if Scootaloo had overheard them yet, and shot a glare at them. “Do you really think this is helping?”
“Hey baby,” Thunderlane quipped.
“You look nice today,” Cloudchaser remarked.
“Get her some punch,” Thunderlane instructed.
“Why not play a game with her?” Cloudchaser posed.
“She’s a filly, Rumble,” Thunderlane pointed out.
“We’re not some alien life form,” Cloudchaser concluded. “You can talk to us just like you would any other pony.”
Rumble chewed on his lip. “It’s not that simple.”
“It really is,” Thunderlane said. “I know it feels hard right now, but you know what? That never changes, no matter what filly you like. You’ll always feel like you’re on a chopping block, and the only way to get used to it is to keep doing it. Talk to her. It won’t feel better until you actually do it.”
Cloudchaser took Thunderlane’s hoof. “You should listen to him, Rumble. You wouldn’t believe how much he stammered and babbled when he asked me out. I said yes out of pity!”
Thunderlane narrowed his eyes as Rumble let out a snrk. “Don’t lie to the kid like that.”
“Come on, that’s the closest he’s come to a smile since he got here.” She held up her hooves and looked through them like a camera. “A little bigger, Rumble. A smile means confidence, and we really don’t know what to make of a colt who’s afraid of us. We don’t know if he’s weird or what.”
Rumble’s face fell. “I... I’m weird?”
“And down goes the confidence,” Thunderlane said, massaging his temple. “Well done, Chase.”
She smacked his shoulder, and Thunderlane snapped at her again, leaving Rumble alone with his nerves. Another look at Scootaloo—smiling, laughing, and happy with one of her friends—was all they could take. “You know what? Forget it. She’s not gonna want to come with me anyway. Let’s just go.”
Cloudchaser and Thunderlane both stopped mid sentence, and she raised an eyebrow. “What was that?”
“Um...” Rumble rubbed his forelegs together. “Let’s... let’s just go. I’m not doing it.”
She sighed, and nodded at Thunderlane. “I think that’s your cue, Big Bro.”
Thunderlane walked around the table. “I think so too. Okay, Rumble. Let’s get going.”
“Oh, thank Celestia!” Rumble darted for the door. “I’ll think of something else—”
“Nope!” Thunderlane stepped in front of him, and Rumble bounced off his brother’s legs. “Let’s go.”
“What do you—hey!”
Thunderlane head-butted Rumble’s barrel, spinning him around, and he stepped forward. “You gotta get this over with some time, kid. Might as well be now.”
“What?!” A sweep of Thunderlane’s leg knocked Rumble’s hindlegs out from under him, and he fell on his backside. Thunderlane pressed his head to his back and started pushing him forward.
Towards Scootaloo.
Rumble tried to scoot back. “No, no, no, no, no!” His legs failed to get any leverage against Thunderlane’s strength. “Stop it! Everyone will see!” Scootaloo had her back turned to him, listening to a laughing Apple Bloom try to say something.
Him. It had to be him. Could only be him. “Thunderlane! I’m serious! If you don’t stop—”
“Cloudsdale, Rumble.”
He flapped his wings, but Thunderlane’s forehead pressed down on his back, keeping him pinned. The girls still didn’t look his way. He still had a chance. Rumble made one last desperate attempt to spin away, but Thunderlane’s snout slipped under his body, and tossed him into Scootaloo, sending Scootaloo tumbling into Apple Bloom, and Apple Bloom’s glass of punch flying into her own face and shattering on the floor.
Only the music could be heard in the entire building. Rumble gulped and looked up at Thunderlane’s face, seeing it just as shocked and panicked as he felt.
A light went on in Thunderlane’s eyes, and his mouth struggled not to smile. “Oh, no! I’m so, so sorry. That was totally my fault.”
Rumble blushed under the laughter of the room, and the glare a now red-stained Apple Bloom shot them. “Y-you’re darn right it was!” He stepped away from the puddle—and Scootaloo—as a smiling Pinkie bounced over with a rag in her mouth. “That wasn’t—”
“Watch it, Scootaloo.” Thunderlane swept a leg out, pushing her next to Rumble. “You two stay out of Pinkie’s way until the shards get cleared up.” He returned Apple Bloom’s look with a smile. “Come on, let’s find Mr. Cake. He’s probably got some cleaning supplies in the kitchen.”
Apple Bloom wiped her face. “Eh, no thanks. I’ll just hop in a stream. It’ll come out.”
“I insist,” Thunderlane said, ushering her along with a wing. “It was my fault, so let me make it up to you.” His smile dropped behind Apple Bloom’s back, and he met Rumble’s eyes, making one firm jerk of his head towards Scootaloo.
Rumble’s mouth sealed shut, and he tried to inch away.
Scootaloo turned towards him. “Rainbow Dash says he can be kinda clumsy, but—”
Her hoof bumped his, and Rumble jumped back into the wall with a yelp.
She stepped back. “Whoa, are you okay? Did you get glass in your hoof?”
Pinkie Pie landed between them. “I’m not listening, la la la-la-la.” She slapped the floor with her tail, sharp pieces of glass poking out of it after it lifted again. “Seen this one before, none of my business.” She wiped the spill with her rag and hopped away. “Still not listening, as you were!”
They made eye contact, and Rumble’s breath escaped in a snort. Scootaloo grinned in return, quickly turning into a chuckle. He escalated into guffaws, and soon they were both laughing silly. Rumble leaned against the wall, and he rubbed a hoof under his sore barrel as they recovered. “Happy birthday.”
“Thanks. So... your brother does that a lot, huh? Rainbow says he’s kind of a klutz.”
He paused to watch Cloudchaser slip between Thunderlane and a scolding Applejack, and they retreated back to the table while the farmpony took her sister into the kitchen. “Yeah, he knows how to put his hoof in it. You get used to it. Eventually.”
“Cool.”
Both Thunderlane and Cloudchaser pointed a hoof to their eyes and flicked it towards Scootaloo. Several times, until he looked away from them. Rumble forced himself to look at her... and focused on the gift table behind her—stacked high, and with one box next to it, too large to even fit under it. “Pretty good haul.”
Scootaloo cocked her head back over her shoulder. “Yeah, too bad I can’t get to ‘em yet.” She scuffed a hoof. “Stupid party planning. No cake or presents until lunch is over. Never figured Pinkie Pie would keep to a schedule.”
“Really? So you... you need to kill some time?” He swallowed. “They've got an awesome fog bank over the flower fields this morning. It's so thick you can almost walk on it. Wanna see?”
Scootaloo raised an eyebrow. “A fog bank?”
“Yeah! The weather factory pumps them out all the time when they're done making clouds. We’d play in them every day after school up in Cloudsdale. This one’s so good I could swim through it without my wings!” Rumble clamped his mouth shut a heartbeat too late. He saw something change in Scootaloo’s eyes, some spark that burned behind her still face. The next words failed to pass his lips, and he swallowed them down to try again. “So, uh, you want to check it out? With me?”
“Yes!”
Rumble’s heart ignited with the same flame that swept across her face. There was nothing but pure exhilaration burning in her eyes, and he felt small before them. “R-really?”
“Yeah, I’d love to see this! Are we going now? Please say we’re going now!”
He just nodded, his ability to speak smothered by his grin. Rumble gestured for the door, and Scootaloo zipped by him, he following quick as he could. Thunderlane lowered a wing after she passed the table, and he slapped it with one of his own.
Scootaloo took one step outside the door and stopped, turning back to him with a smile. “Who else is coming?”
Rumble’s heart collapsed like a black hole opened inside him and dragged him—clinging and clutching at the pathetic reality of the world—to the very center of it to be crushed by the cosmic weight of her words as time ground to a halt around her most innocent and innocuous of smiles. “What?”
“Who else is coming? I mean, Apple Bloom and Sweetie can’t walk on clouds, but they could still—” Her eyes snapped wide open. “Blind tag! All the earth ponies and unicorns could run through the fog, and the pegasi try to catch them before they make it all the way!”
“That... sounds... fun?”
“Oh, I wonder if Archer is here yet? This is gonna be so cool!” She ran past him. “Hey, I got an idea!”
Rumble sat down, the solid ground providing very little comfort against the tumultuous agony of his most basic and miserable failure. “That... that wasn’t supposed to... she didn’t understand...?” He searched Thunderlane and Cloudchaser—he slack-jawed, and she covering her mouth with a hoof—for any kind of sign. “What... what do I do?”
Thunderlane stammered, and shot a look at Cloudchaser. “What does he do?!”
Cloudchaser flicked her eyes between the brothers. “How should I know?”
Thunderlane thrust a hoof at Rumble. “How should he know?”
“I don’t know!” They all said.
Scootaloo returned with most of the colts and fillies behind her. “So here’s the plan: Rumble’s leading us to a patch of fog, and we’re gonna play tag in it. Blind tag.” She grabbed his hoof and lifted it up. “Me and Rumble try and swoop down on ya before you make it across. Who wants in?”
He thought most of them shouted yes, but Rumble was preoccupied with the sight of their entwined hooves over their heads. Scootaloo’s tightened and pulled his down, snapping him back to reality. “What? What I’d do?”
Scootaloo beamed at him. “I said we could take ‘em together! You’re with me, right?” She didn’t wait for a response, nor did the others as they all charged into the street.
The warmth of her grip lingered around his ankle as he rubbed at it. “Yeah. With you.”
“C’mon, Rumble!” Scootaloo poked her head back inside. “Keep up!”
Rumble watched her run off again, and looked up to Thunderlane and Cloudchaser. “Baby steps.” He galloped after the pack, laughing with every stride.
