Calm and Stormby FiddlesticksChaptersWorkFirst ChanceGraceland, TooBlue on Blue (One)LambertLast Night for a Table of TwoMoments in Between (Or, Blue on Blue, Two)WorkDear Coco, Autumn has proven to be a very gracious, if not over-enthusiastic host. She’s eager to teach me everything about Kirin culture and the history of their village, and while I knew most of it already from Twilight’s texts it was refreshing to hear it first-hoof. Even if the novelty wore off around the first hour or so. Autumn Blaze has a lot to say, and I’m going to need a lot of paper to write it all down. Not the worst thing that could happen, I guess. The village has been very interesting to explore, and the Kirin seem very happy to have me. The only place I’ve been barred from so far is the Stream of Silence, but I hope to build enough rapport with their leader so I can conduct some experiments. So how have things been going for you? I know you’re a bit busy with that big project of yours. How’s that been? Hope to hear from you soon, Moondancer. Moondancer honestly didn’t think she was a very hard mare to find: she did more or less the same thing and stuck to an easy to follow schedule. So she was still at a loss as to how Autumn Blaze could never seem to find her. “There you are!” The kirin skidded to a halt in front of her, panting and swiping at her brow. Mondancer was unphased, having seen the exact same scene play out on a nearly daily basis. She flipped a page in her book as her hostess trotted up to the bench. “I told you where I’d be,” Moondancer said. “Like always.” “But I checked your list,” Autumn whined. “You weren’t anywhere!” Moondancer looked away from her book to raise an eyebrow at her. “I spend every morning from eleven to twelve outside the post office.” “Ohhh, I thought you spent it at the library,” Autumn groaned. Moondancer just blinked and shrugged before returning to her book, hoping to at least finish the page before Autumn caught her breath. “Say,” Autumn said after a minute. “Why do you spend so much time out here?” “I want to catch the mailkirin when they come in, and the deliveries from the station usually come in around now,” Moondancer answered. Autumn tapped her chin. “Oooh! Are you expecting a package or something?” “Mail, yes.” “Oh! Oh!” Autumn popped off the bench, prancing in a small circle eagerly. “Is it more equipment for your fieldwork? Recipes from Applejack? Cupcakes from Pinkie Pie?” Autumn licked her lips. “Oh, I hope she made more of those cupcakes!” Moondancer waited patiently until Autumn’s rant was over. “I’m waiting for a letter,” she answered. “A letter!” Autumn’s eyes widened as she gasped. “Of course! From who?” “Coco Pommel,” Moondancer answered, smiling at the name. Her calculations based on the average delivery time of the mail service indicated that Coco should have definitely gotten her letter by now, and her reply would come with the next cart… The cart that was currently being pulled up the hill by a kirin in a spiffy blue uniform. Moondancer shut her book and stood up, making a beeline right for the cart. Autumn Blaze trotted after her, still salivating over the thought of baked goods. “Hiya Dr. Moondancer!” the mailkirin said with a wave. Moondancer nodded. “Is there any mail for me?” The mailkirin nodded, pulling out a letter from his jacket. “Yep, set it aside for you at the station. Just this letter. By the way, River Dance has been feeling kinda ill lately--” “I’m not that kind of doctor,” Moondancer replied for the umpteenth time as she seized the letter. She read the name to herself and felt her heart drop. “Oh. It’s… just from Twilight.” “What does it say?” Autumn asked eagerly, only to cock her head to the side in confusion when Moondancer tossed it aside. “Wait, you’re not going to open it?” Moondancer ignored her as she climbed into the bag of the wagon, opening the bag and poking her head inside. “Did you miss a letter? I’m expecting one from my… from Coco.” “Uh, I didn’t see one,” the mailkirin said. “Maybe she hasn’t had the chance yet?” Autumn asked. Moondancer considered this. Perhaps it was true: her math hadn’t accounted for an error like that, since Coco was usually pretty succinct. But maybe she was still tired from… whatever that big fashion thing was that she was doing. “Good point,” Moondancer admitted before pulling her head out of the bag and hopping back to the ground. “That’s probably it. Thanks, Autumn.” “No worries! Oh, you wanted me to remind you that you’re going to watch Rain Shine lead the choir!” Moondancer nodded. “Right. I hope she doesn’t invite me to sing again.” Autumn cringed but offered her a sympathetic pat. “It’s okay! I’m sure you’ll get there!” Dear Coco, I got to engage in a bit of participant observation yesterday. Rain Shine invited me to sing some passages of her latest song with the choir. Unfortunately I have also discovered that I am tone deaf, and having very little musical training didn’t help me in the slightest. It might surprise you, but yes, I do just fake it in Pinkie’s impromptu musical numbers. I usually just mouth the words and hope nobody notices. Please don’t tell her. Speaking of Pinkie, Autumn has been not so subtly asking for more recipes or treats. Judging by how she’s nearly burned down her kitchen twice now, I’d highly recommend she just send treats. If you could pass that on to Rarity that’d be great, but I’ll probably let Twilight know anyways. Didn’t get a reply if you sent one so I guess you’re still wrapped up with your fashion stuff. Let me know when you’ve got a second, I’ll try not to fill up your mailbox with letters in the meantime. Sincerely, Moondancer. “Yeah, I dunno doc. I guess I was just born with it. Some kirins definitely started out weaker, but they got there in the end! Sort of like you, I guess… no offense, though! You were… definitely a little better than last time!” Moondancer rolled her eyes, blushing a bit from yesterday’s fiasco. “Uh… none taken,” she grumbled. “Thanks, Grass Tide. I think we’re done for today.” Her informant nodded and hopped out of her seat, leaving Moondancer to pack up her tape recorder and notepad. It may have been redundant, but Moondancer would much rather be safer than sorry. She took a second to go over her notes, tapping her chin in thoughts as she ran parts of the conversation through her head. She wasn’t able to get very far before Autumn Blaze crashed into the table next to her. “Oof,” Autumn groaned before straightening herself. “Hi Moondancer! I actually met Blue Moon on the way here and got your mail for you, since I figured you’d be busy with Grass. That kirin sure loves talking, maybe even more than me!” Moondancer waited patiently, but when Autumn didn’t move she prompted her. “So… my mail?” “Oh, you didn’t have any,” Autumn chirped. Moondancer blinked. “...oh. Are you sure?” She stood up, making a move towards the road. “Maybe I should check.” “You don’t need to, I was super thorough when I looked,” Autumn reassured. “Oh.” Moondancer’s ears drooped a bit. “But… But she definitely should have replied by now…” Autumn gave her a sympathetic pat on the back. “Maybe the mail has been delayed? I’m sure there’s a reason!” “Yeah,” Moondancer replied half-heartedly. “Maybe…” Dear Coco, Is everything going okay? I know I said I wouldn’t fill up your mailbox but I’m worried now. It’s been awhile and I haven’t heard anything from you at all. Maybe I’m being silly, and you can totally tell me if I am, but I just want to hear from you! Anything will do! Not much else has happened on my end. The Kirin have a great and rich tradition and the Stream of Silence incident definitely had adverse effects on their culture. I could probably write a whole book on it when I get back. The colors here are so vivid and pretty, too. I never really noticed before but it’s so rich and full here. You’d like it. I think you’d make hundreds of lines based on these colors alone. Wish you were here, Moondancer. Dear Rarity, Hi, this is Moondancer, writing to you from the Kirin village. I was just wondering if everything was okay with Coco? I know she had a big project she was stressed about but I haven’t heard from her at all. Thank you, Moondancer. Dear Twilight, I’m trying to get some letters through to Coco, but she hasn’t replied. I don’t even know if they’ve been getting through. Are you aware of any problems with the mail service right now? Can you check for me? Your friend, Moondancer. Moondancer frowned, tugging on the loose end of her sweater. “You’re sure?” “Yes, Dr. Moondancer,” replied a very disgruntled Blue Moon. “There’s nothing besides the letter I gave you.” “Can you check again?” Blue Moon glared at her before yanking the mailbag open with malice. Moondancer, I checked with the postmaster and there aren’t any problems with the service that we’re aware of. Maybe she’s just busy? How’s the Kirin village treating you? Let me know, Twilight. Coco, Okay, what’s going on? Why haven’t you been returning my letters? Is it something I said? What did I do wrong? Worried, Moondancer. Coco, Please just say something. Anything. I’m really scared and want to know you’re okay. I miss you, Moondancer. Coco, Do you still love me? Because I still love you. A lot. Please. Say something. Moondancer groaned as Autumn Blaze poked at her side. “You’re going to be late,” she urged. “I don’t care,” Moondancer replied, pulling her blanket over her head. “Nothing matters anymore.” Autumn sighed, poking at the researcher-shaped lump some more. “Is this about that friend?” “...maybe,” Moondancer muttered. “Wow. Does not getting a letter from them really mean that much to you?” “Yes!” Moondancer poked her head out of her safety blanket to glare at her. “She… Coco is more than my friend, okay? I… reallyreallylikeher.” She muttered out the last part, blushing furiously as she retreated into her blanket. Autumn was quiet, the gears likely turning in her mind. “Oh. Ohhh. Oh! Awwww, that’s cute! Well, I mean not cute that she’s been ignoring you, but--” She was interrupted by a quiet knock on the door. “Coming!” There was a scurry of hoofsteps on the floorboard before Moondancer heard a timid voice from outside. Her ear twitched as it picked up on some tired words: “Is Moondancer here?” Her eyes widened and Moondancer leaped out of her bed, charging into the hall and crashing into Autumn. “Coco!” Coco Pommel grinned widely and welcomed Moondancer in her embrace. “Hi Moondancer!” Moondancer broke the hug, narrowing her eyes. “Why haven’t you been returning my letters? I’ve been trying to reach you for weeks!” “Oh, have you? I was on a fashion tour, remember? I left home right after you did,” Coco explained nervously. “I hope you weren’t too worried about me.” Moondancer was quiet for a second before slamming her hoof into her head. “Gah! I completely forgot! I know you were talking about a project but I forgot it was a tour! I’m… I’m an idiot! But what are you doing here?” “I wanted to surprise you!” Coco said with a smile. “You were so excited to come here that I just had to see for myself!” Moondancer smiled, but her eyes began to water. “Oh… I was… I was so worried! I thought I did something, or something happened… I’m an idiot, Coco.” “No you’re not! C’mere!” The two embraced again, as Autumn Blaze let out a squeal of delight from behind them. “Awwwwww!” First ChanceRoseluck sighed, gently freeing a gust of her breath and watching as it parted the rising steam. She pressed her hooves into the sides of her cup harder, a frown tugging at the side of her lips. “More tea?” Roseluck recoiled violently, a shudder sprinting down her spine. “N-no thank you, Miss Cheerilee.” Cheerilee laughed at that, sitting down across from her. “Please, only my students call me Miss. Cheerilee is fine.” “O-okay,” Roseluck answered through chattering teeth. Cheerilee sipped daintily at her own tea, watching Roseluck with a cautious interest. “Roseluck, what in Equestria were you doing out there at a time like this?” Roseluck frowned, her ears folding down against the side of her head. “I… had to tend to my g-garden.” “Your garden?” echoed Cheerilee. “I understand flowers are important to you, but surely they’re not so important for you to risk your life for it!” “I’m fine!” Roseluck protested, holding a shaky hoof up in protest. “R-really!” Cheerilee didn’t answer, but she really didn’t need to. The almost audible chattering of Roseluck’s teeth ripped into the massive holes in her words. Roseluck’s eyes sank into her tea cup, watching as the liquid splashed about unevenly in her trembling hooves. “Roseluck,” Cheerilee sighed, holding a hoof to her forehead. “I may not be Applejack, but being a teacher has taught me to pick up on lies.” Her chin sank lower until she was completely slouched over, her teacup blocking her shameful face from Cheerilee’s eyes. The teacher snorted in amusement. “Roseluck! You’re acting like one of my students right now! Please, just tell me the truth. What were you doing in that storm?” Roseluck sighed and squeezed her eyes shut, as if that subtle movement would wake her from this nightmare. “I had to pick a flower.” “A flower?” “Yeah,” Roseluck muttered. “It only blooms at a certain time. I wanted to get it right.” Her friend was silent, and Roseluck almost risked opening her eyes. Instead, she removed her right hoof from her teacup, lowering it to her jacket pocket. She felt the stem poke her hoof and pulled out the entire flower, not daring to look at it. “It… This is for you.” The flower was in a sorry state. Over half of the petals were lost somewhere in the snow outside, and the bottom of the stem was jagged and ruined. She should have used her cutters, but those were in the shed that was currently buried beneath a few feet of snow. It had taken her almost half an hour to dig out the flower bed, where she had planted it. But it was her own fault for mixing up the weather schedule. Her fault for panicking when she couldn’t pull it out, her fault for resorting to just yanking on it with her teeth until it snapped. Her own fault for ruining her first chance. “For me?” Roseluck sighed, not feeling the strength to move. “Yeah. It’s a new breed I made. It’s called an Arctic Cherry. It’s supposed to have these pure white petals and beautiful red center… but I messed it all up. I’m sorry, Cheerilee.” “But… why for me?” asked Cheerilee. Roseluck opened an eye, staring at her distorted reflection in her teacup. “...it’s for your birthday.” When there was no response, Roseluck finally resorted to opening her eyes fully, albeit with a bated breath. Cheerilee was holding the flower in both hooves, eyes wide. She handled it gracefully and cautiously, as if she were holding a dangerous artifact. “So… you went all this way to make a flower just for me?” “The first of its kind,” Roseluck said lamely. “But why?” she asked again. Roseluck lifted her head, “Because you’re my friend, Cheerilee. And I remember you being so upset when those foals trampled over your garden… I thought it was the least I could do. It’s supposed to be beautiful. I’m sorry.” “Supposed to be?” Cheerilee stood, taking the flower into the kitchen. “Why, Roseluck, it is beautiful.” “But it’s not!” protested Roseluck. “It’s broken! Doesn’t have all the petals on it!” Cheerilee laughed, returning with a vase balanced on her back. She set the vase on the table, then inserted the flower. “But it’s from you, Roseluck. And that makes it beautiful in my eyes.” A flush of heat rushed through Roseluck’s cheeks as she fumbled for words. Cheerilee smiled, putting a hoof on her shoulder. “Rose, seriously,” she giggled. “Sometimes you worry too much. This is beautiful, and I’m so happy for it. But next time maybe you can plant something that… won’t put you at risk of hypothermia?” “Heh,” Roseluck responded, rubbing the back of her neck sheepishly. “Sorry.” “You have nothing to be sorry for,” Cheerilee answered before heading for the kitchen again. “But while you’re here, stay awhile! Big Mac gave me this excellent cake that I really can’t finish by myself.” As Cheerilee rummaged around, Roseluck stared at the ugly flower sitting in Cheerilee’s vase. “She liked it,” Roseluck whispered. “She liked it. Well… not bad for a first try, I guess.” The flower didn’t reply. Roseluck laughed, sipping from her now cold tea. “Not bad at all… Hey Cheerilee, can you put another pot on?” Graceland, TooParasol could barely see an inch in front of her. It was that strange time of twilight, when night and day blended and merged together, the invisible lines between today and tomorrow fading away. Squinting hard, she stared out at the hill around her but couldn’t see anything other than shadows and imaginary shapes. Empty packets of saltine crackers crunched underneath her hooves as her body practically vibrated with energy. She sat down, extended her right wing to pluck some feathers, then stood up again with a huff. “Someone’s impatient tonight.” “What if we get caught, Apple?” Parasol asked, trying to keep her voice steady. Apple Bumpkin didn’t reply. Their face was briefly illuminated by a match as they hunched over the circular tube in front of them. Seconds later, the firework shot out and up into the sky, exploding into a flash of color that for a few seconds drowned the night in color. “We’re supposed to be doing this,” they finally said as she reached for another one. “Trixie ain’t usin’ ‘em and Twilight don’t want ‘em sittin’ around.” “Still, what if someone gets upset?” Parasol asked. “They can take it up with her,” Apple Bumpkin answered. Parasol sighed, taking another step away from the small pile of Romane Candles next to Apple Bumpkin. “But still, we’re not qualified to do this.” Apple’s face glowed again in the flame of her match as they lit another. “All you need is common sense, sugarcube.” Parasol groaned, flopping down into the grass again and staring up at the endless night sky. “Just... be careful?” “Of course.” The candle shot up into the air again, but Apple Bumpkin didn’t pay it much mind. “You’re nervous about somethin’,” they said neutrally. “Yeah, I’m nervous you’re going to set us both on fire,” Parasol replied, sitting back up. “Ain’t that,” Apple Bumpkin said. “Somethin’ else is eatin’ you. You’re restless, Sol. What’s on your mind?” Parasol folded over, dipping her head down and drooping her ears. “I’m just… Apple, where are you gonna go?” The air was quiet, except for the soft country music playing from Parasol’s radio. “Could go home, but I ain’t gonna,” Apple Bumpkin replied, lighting another match. “Ain’t a point in that.” “Then stay here,” Parasol implored. “With me.” The match went out and another Romane Candle flew into the air. “You know that ain’t what I do. I’m a wanderer, Parasol. That’s what I told you when we met.” “That doesn’t mean I have to like it,” Parasol cried, stamping her hoof into the ground. “I’m worried about you, Bumpy. You don’t sleep in hotels every night, sometimes you don’t even eat for days… every time you come visit you look worse and worse.” Apple Bumpkin held another candle in their hooves, but they didn’t light a match. Instead they sat there, nothing more than a silhouette in the moonlight. “Bumpy… I want you to be who you are,” Parasol tried. “But more than that I want you to be safe.” “I know,” Apple Bumpkin replied, turning the rocket over slowly in her hooves. “I wish I could promise you that. But I told you, Sol, you gotta share me with all of Equestria.” “Because one day you’ll take the world,” Parasol muttered, ears drooping down. “Am I… am I not enough?” The silhouette set the rocket back down on the grass and stood. It walked over to her and sat down next to her. They leaned forwards and pressed their forehead against Parasol’s. “Sugar, you’re more than enough. But I can’t stay. I’m… worried that I ain’t gonna find myself.” “Then let me help,” Parasol whispered, feeling like crying. “Come on. I need you here. You’ve been on the move for years and it hasn’t worked. Please. Just… just try staying?” Apple Bumpkin pulled away, their eyes glowing faintly in the dark. “Alright, sugar. Alright.” They leaned in again, this time closing their eyes and letting their lips guide them. When they pulled apart, Parasol spread a wing around Apple’s side and pulled them tight, leaning her head into their neck. Apple lit another match, letting the warmth wash over their bodies. “Some day, I’ll own the world,” they said over the music of the radio. Parasol smiled gently. “And Equestria?” “And Equestria, too.” They were quiet for a moment, leaning into each other as the faint hum of music filled the air. Eventually, Apple grabbed another rocket. Blue on Blue (One)The kettle was cold now. So was Strawberry Sunrise. A while ago she had wanted to brew some tea and relax to the drumming of rain against her roof, and take a break from the little things that had been chewing on her. She had been getting into fights with Cherry over small things: the dishes, their schedules, their future… Strawberry just wanted a break from it all. But life --or more accurately her girlfriend-- had other plans. And unfortunately, those plans apparently involved the destruction of her barn. Cherry Berry was sitting at the dining room table, still dripping wet, and glaring daggers at her. Strawberry stared right back, leaning against the counter and holding a towel to her head. She pulled it away to see a light red staining it, and her scowl deepened. “Well?” she asked. “Well what?” Cherry countered, running her own towel through her mane. “Are you going to apologize?” “Me? Apologize? I was handling myself perfectly fine until you flew up to me screaming like a banshee,” Cherry said, her squeaky voice full of bitterness and anger. Strawberry threw her hooves in the air. “Oh! I am oh so terribly sorry I tried to pull you out of a fucking thunderstorm. That you were flying straight into.” “The thunderstorm that wasn’t on the weather report,” Cherry muttered. “The weather report? The weather report?!” Strawberry’s voice rose and she tossed aside her towel in disgust. “Do you not remember me telling you that the weather team was putting one together? Because of the clerical error that put my farm into a mini-drought?” “You never said that!” Cherry countered. “Besides, I had that under control until you intervened and now I’m down a balloon!” “Oh no! You lost one of your twenty fancy hot air balloons,” Strawberry answered, her voice raising to the pitch she reserved for mocking others. “You know that barn you crashed into? That’s worth every single one of those balloons and probably more!” Cherry frowned, her eyes darting to the table at that. “...How bad was the damage?” “I don’t know, I haven’t had a chance to look yet,” Strawberry grumbled, wringing out her towel over the sink. “I was too busy making sure you weren’t dead.” They fell quiet again as the rain grew in volume outside the window. Strawberry stared into her sink basin as she squeezed the bloody towel. She felt something brewing inside of her, but her brain was too tired and muddled to try and make sense of it. Her jaw began to ache from the clenching, so she closed her eyes and exhaled slowly. She turned when she heard Cherry hiss in pain. “What’s wrong?” “Nothing,” Cherry replied, pulling a towel away from her body. Strawberry trotted over, fetching a clean one. Her eyes widened as she saw her wound. “Oh Celestia, that cut’s pretty deep.” “Yeah, thanks Captain Obvious,” Cherry hissed, snatching the towel out of Strawberry’s hooves. For a second, Strawberry was angry. But she took another breath and tried to shove it down. “Cherry, we should go to the hospital and get that checked.” “I’m fine,” Cherry replied. Strawberry frowned, tugging on Cherry’s hoof. “Come on, I’m worried about it.” Cherry tugged her hoof away and scowled. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” Strawberry’s calm quickly faded away as a resurgence of anger hit her body. “Me? Me?! What the fuck is wrong with you!” Cherry shouted. Strawberry snarled. “Oh, nothing darling. It’s not like you never listen to me, and it’s not like you’re never even home anymore to talk with me! Forgive me for worrying about you!” “Oh, that’s just rich coming from you, a pony who has never given a shit about how anyone else feels!” Cherry shouted as she stood up. “You ever think that maybe you’re the reason you don’t have any fucking friends?” That got a gasp out of her. Strawberry quickly narrowed her eyes as her scowl deepened, pressing her own face close to Cherry’s. “What the fuck?! Like I’m going to take advice from some pony who spends all day up in the clouds dreaming instead of doing any actual fucking work! You love being up there more than you love me, don’t you?” Cherry recoiled for a second before recovering. “Fuck you, Strawberry! You’re a real fucking asshole! I don’t know what the fuck I ever saw in you.” “Just… just get out,” Strawberry hissed, her voice dropping low as tears stung her eyes. “Fine.” Cherry flicked her tail and left. Strawberry stood stock still as the rain beat down on the house, long after the door had slammed shut. Eventually she moved, staggering for the sink. She looked into the cold, empty basin as she took a jagged breath. Her chest felt as if it was collapsing on itself, and in a panic she fumbled with the kettle, grabbing it in her hooves. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” With a scream she turned and hurled it against the wall. “FUCK!” There was a roar of thunder outside. LambertIt was raining in Mareseille, but Rainbow couldn’t remember how she had gotten here. From behind the massive glass window, she watched as a flash of lightning tore up the air and the skies dumped gallons and gallons of water onto the airfield. With an angry whinny, she scuffed her hoof against the ugly carpet, feeling a bit of electricity zapping her. She almost felt it. How had she gotten here? Outside, massive ariships lounged, idle and waiting for the storm to clear. Hadn’t she just arrived on one the day before? Rainbow dragged a hoof down her face, feeling worse and worse with every second that passed her by. She huffed in annoyance, trying to pry any information loose from her brain. What time even was it? Seven? No, Rainbow realized. It’s seven in Saddle Arabia. That’d make it… ten in Prance? She looked away from the window, scanning the idle terminal. Her gate was still mostly empty, lit up by the warm and welcoming glow of shops that lined the walls. “Hey.” Rainbow’s ear twitched as a soft voice called out from her right. “Oh. Hey Fleetfoot,” she answered monotonously. Fleetfoot passed her a styrofoam cup, sleeved in a cardboard heat protector. Rainbow took it in her hoof and stared at it, forgetting for a second what she was meant to do with it. “How are you holding up?” Fleetfoot asked. Rainbow shrugged. “Fleet, have we been here before?” Fleetfoot nodded. “We just flew in yesterday, Rainbow. From Saddle Arabia, for the next part of our tour.” “Our tour.” The Wonderbolts were on tour. Rainbow remembered now. She was just talking with Spitfire at the stadium, as they examined the venue and began practicing the routine. But had it really only been yesterday? Why did it feel like an eternity ago? “Here, sit,” Fleetfoot instructed, gently guiding her over to a row of uncomfortable plastic chairs. Rainbow obeyed, trying to mask her internal frustrations. It seemed like for every two steps she took, every two questions she answered, another one would unveil itself like a discount street magician. Why was Fleetfoot being gentle with her? Fleetfoot had a softer side, sure, but it almost never came out during tours. Fleetfoot was savvy and sassy, witty and sarcastic. She didn’t buy Rainbow coffee, or help her sit down. Where were the rest of the Wonderbolts? Why was Rainbow feeling so numb? And why did it feel like she knew these answers already? Rainbow trembled slightly, but it was enough for Fleetfoot to notice. She put a hoof on her back and started rubbing circles into it. Rainbow felt herself relax, squeezing her eyes shut and drawing a deep breath. She had just arrived with the Wonderbolts. Now she was leaving, but only with Fleetfoot. Why? “Here, drink,” Fleetfoot offered. Rainbow obeyed, feeling the scalding liquid trickling down her throat. Her mind didn’t even register what it was. Fleetfoot reached over and squeezed her free hoof. She locked eyes with Rainbow, but didn’t say anything. But something passed over her face, and Rainbow realized she had seen that expression before. Griffonstone, three years ago. Rainbow was talking with Misty Fly when a messenger arrived on the field and passed a note to Spitfire. Spitfire read it once, then froze. Then she read it again. Then she called Soarin, and the two read it together. Then they called Fleetfoot, who landed beside them. Spitfire whispered something to her and Fleetfoot… Fleetfoot screamed and cried and fell over, weeping. The other Wonderbolts crowded around her in a powerful hug, and she had cried and cried and cried. She left for home the next day. Rainbow looked down and realized she was still wearing her training jacket. Had she not changed before she left? A glance to her right showed that Fleetfoot was also wearing the same thing. What had pulled them out of training like that? Rainbow looked up out the window. Suddenly, she was angry. She snarled, feeling something hot and uncomfortable building and building in her chest. Tears began streaking from her eyes, hot like lava. She began to shake, unable to contain the anger. Fleetfoot said nothing but seized her in a hug. Reflexively, Rainbow hugged back. She buried her face into Fleetfoot’s jacket and gave a muffled scream, one that sounded so harsh and monstrous she didn’t recognize it as her own voice. She slammed a hoof into Fleetfoot’s shoulder. Her teammate didn’t react but hugged her tighter. And Rainbow cried until she couldn’t anymore. She landed a few more punches on Fleetfoot’s shoulder, not out of spite for her, but because she had nowhere else to put her anger. When she was empty, Fleetfoot pushed the cup underneath her mouth again. “Drink, Rainbow,” she commanded, and Rainbow obeyed. The liquid landed in her stomach like lead. She pulled away, swiping at her eyes. Even though the anger was gone, she still trembled, feeling her teeth chattering against themselves. “Do you need more tissues?” “N-no, I…” Rainbow shoved a hoof into her jacket pocket and was surprised when it procured a folded piece of paper. As she pulled it out, a particularly loud crack of thunder filled the air. And she remembered. She remembered the journey on the airship. She remembered rereading the letter her mother had sent, saying that her father’s surgery had gone well and although he was tired, he was home. She remembered seeing the messenger run onto the field, making a beeline straight for Spitfire. She remembered Spitfire tearing it open, reading it to herself, then her own face hardening. Rainbow looked at the crumpled, tear-stained paper in her hoof, then turned to look at Fleetfoot. She remembered Fleetfoot requesting to accompany her home, and Spitfire allowing it. “She’ll need you,” Spitfire had told her. Against her own judgement, she unfolded the paper, letting the words stab at her eyes. Rainbow… your father… in his sleep. You need to come home. “You need to go home,” Spitfire had told her. So Rainbow packed her things and left. The reality of it all came crashing down around her. She remembered going on walks down Cloudsdale streets, perched upon her father’s shoulder. She remembered going to the movies and getting embarrassed when he fell asleep, and she remembered her shock when he showed up at a Wonderbolts show. “Rainbow,” Fleetfoot said. “I can make a rainbow in the sky,” Rainbow heard herself say. “But it wouldn’t have any light.” Fleetfoot hugged her again, and Rainbow made no move to resist it. For a second, Rainbow was angry again. She couldn’t wait any longer. She’d fly up and buck all those stupid storm clouds to smithereens. The prissy Prench farmers could afford to wait, Rainbow couldn’t. She’d get those airships in the sky if she had to do it by herself. She’d fly all the way back to Equestria if the ships wouldn’t take her. She’d… Do nothing. It wouldn’t change a thing. Her father was still gone. The folded piece of paper slipped free of her hooves and onto the carpet. Fleetfoot didn’t say anything, but she didn’t really need to. Her eyes told Rainbow that she understood the pain, and that words would do nothing but fall short. So she hugged her, her thumping heart pounding against the storm in Rainbow’s chest. I’m two steps in the wrong. I’m two steps in the wrong. There was a roar of thunder from outside. Last Night for a Table of TwoThere was a tightness in her heart that threatened to choke it. “Fluttershy, darling, if you have something to say, please do speak it now.” If Fluttershy had heard the question she didn’t reply. Instead she let out a low hum, scrutinizing the menu in her hooves carefully. “Oh, what was that dish that Twilight recommended? The carrot stew I believe?” Her facade helped ease the pain, but even as she sat there Fluttershy felt something slowly churning in her stomach. Rarity scoffed, slapping her menu against the table. “Are you even listening to me, dear?” Again, Fluttershy didn’t respond, holding the menu up to her face. “I know Angel would love that dish,” she giggled to herself. The waiter paused by their table, notepad ready in their magic. But Rarity waved them off, squinting across the table. “Fluttershy.” “Yes, Rarity?” asked Fluttershy without putting down the menu. Rarity seized the item in her magic and yanked it away. A shadow of anger flashed over Fluttershy’s face but it quickly dissipated. She folded her hooves on the table, staring across at her friend intently. “Yes, Rarity? Are you ready to order?” “Oh damn the food!” Rarity hissed. “What has gotten into you?” “What do you mean?” Rarity held a hoof to her chest and narrowed her eyes. “Please, don’t play the fool with me. You’ve barely looked at me this entire time.” “Oh, is that hurting you?” asked Fluttershy, tilting her head to the side. “Left you feeling ignored? Is that it, Rarity?” “Fluttershy--” “I can’t imagine how that’d feel,” Fluttershy said, her voice keeping the volume but growing icy. They stared at each other, the atmosphere of the restaurant lost around them. Rarity cleared her throat. “Perhaps we should drop the subject and just have a nice dinner together.” “But you were the one who wanted to talk,” Fluttershy said. “And I do have something to say, you know.” “Oh, now you do,” muttered Rarity. Fluttershy’s smile grew terse. “It’s nothing you haven’t heard before, you know.” Rarity raised an eyebrow. “I’ve been saying the same things for a long time now, Rarity. I guess you just haven’t been listening.” That drew a scowl out of her. “Oh, don’t play the guilt card on me. You know quite well I’ve been incredibly busy--” “I do know!” Fluttershy slammed her hooves on the table in a manner that was anything but soft. “But you don’t know how that’s been affecting me!” “How can I when you never say a word?” Rarity countered, raising her voice to match. “You can’t possibly expect me to hear you when you barely speak above a whisper! I have asked you so, so many times what you think of matters and you’ve barely said a word!” Fluttershy scoffed. “Actions speak louder than words, Rarity. You should know that by now.” “As if that justifies your dismissal of every question I ask!” Rarity shot back. “I’ve asked you dozens of times if you are okay and I’ve never gotten a reply!” Fluttershy leaned back in her chair, folding her forelegs over her chest. The weight in her stomach felt lifted now, and it was a brilliant, vindicating feeling. She wished she could hold onto it forever. The clatter of utensils around them wavered, the candles present at each table flickering and waving. Several other patrons glanced in their direction discreetly, whispering to one another. “Seriously, darling, just… why didn’t you say something?” Rarity asked, rubbing her temples. “Why didn’t you notice I did?” spat Fluttershy. The waiter lingered at the edge of the table again but quickly and quietly excused themselves. “I’d like to just have a nice dinner,” Rarity said, straightening herself up. Fluttershy giggled. “What’s the matter? I thought you were always happy when you were making a scene.” The ice cold glare from Rarity startled her, but Fluttershy’s fear was snuffed out by a bright burning anger free of its cage. “Well I’m sorry, but I’m not hungry anymore,” she replied. She stood, the chair scraping against the floor. Rarity watched her, the unicorn’s face unreadable. Fluttershy held her ground, her mind a mass of seamless, shapeless thoughts. “In fact, I think this was a mistake,” she heard herself say. “I thought I was having dinner with someone I knew.” Rarity glared at her. “My mistake then,” she spat venomously. “I suppose you weren’t impressed by my glamorous attempts, and of everything I’ve already done for you.” Fluttershy smiled, feeling light-headed. “You should keep that glamor for yourself. You’ll need it when your lights go down.” With that, Fluttershy turned and felt her body guide herself out of the restaurant. Rarity sat still for a minute before sniffing and signaling for the waiter. “Your finest wine, please,” she declared. She glared towards the door before adding: “And if you would, I’ve no need for those utensils. A table for one will suffice for tonight.” Moments in Between (Or, Blue on Blue, Two)Strawberry sighed, wiping her brow as she scanned the clearing where her barn once stood. The wreckage of Cherry’s-- of the balloon was gone now, along with the collapsed walls of the former barn. An inventory concluded that much of her equipment had been destroyed or damaged, but it could always be replaced. Unlike-- Strawberry felt sick and quickly shook her head. She stood, glancing up at the sun to try and determine how much more daylight she had. As she turned to head back to the farmhouse, she froze at the sight of a pink blob heading towards her. It had been a week since they’d fought, and Strawberry had managed to convince herself that Cherry wasn’t coming back. But there she was, face carefully neutral and a few bandages covering her body. She stopped in front of Strawberry and neither of them spoke. “H-hey,” Strawberry finally offered, her voice breaking a bit. Cherry drew a deep breath before she finally locked eyes with Strawberry. “I’m sorry,” she finally muttered. “I… I’m sorry too,” Strawberry replied. “I said some… rotten stuff that night. I really shouldn’t have.” “Me too. It’s just… I don’t know what came over me,” Cherry replied, digging her hoof into the dirt. Strawberry bit her hoof, rubbing the back of her neck. “I… I think maybe it was the small stuff. For me, anyways. I mean, there was a lot of stuff building up before that night. Where we were fighting over small, stupid things.” “Yeah, like the dishes,” Cherry answered, chuckling softly. “We… we shouldn’t have just let them lay but… I dunno. I guess I was too scared to confront them. Like the coward I am.” Strawberry glanced up. “You’re not a coward. I mean, you’re braver than most for doing all that stuff you do with your balloon.” “Not that night,” Cherry muttered. “I was scared, especially when you came flying after me. I… Strawberry, we almost died.” She looked around the empty clearing, remembering how the barn lay in a smoldering wreck when she had first started cleaning it up. “I… guess we’re lucky then,” Strawberry offered. Cherry chuckled softly, and that made Strawberry feel a little bit better. “You know… I care about you,” Strawberry continued. “I don’t know if I ever said it because I’m not great with words, but you mean a lot to me, Cherry. I’m sorry I hurt you like that.” “Me too,” Cherry answered. “You didn’t deserve that. I was wrong.” “Not as wrong as I was,” Strawberry countered. “Agree to disagree?” “Sure.” They shared a quick hug before something occurred to Strawberry. “You know… you’re paying for that barn you broke.” “...would a kiss cover it?” Strawberry couldn’t help but laugh at that.
WorkDear Coco, Autumn has proven to be a very gracious, if not over-enthusiastic host. She’s eager to teach me everything about Kirin culture and the history of their village, and while I knew most of it already from Twilight’s texts it was refreshing to hear it first-hoof. Even if the novelty wore off around the first hour or so. Autumn Blaze has a lot to say, and I’m going to need a lot of paper to write it all down. Not the worst thing that could happen, I guess. The village has been very interesting to explore, and the Kirin seem very happy to have me. The only place I’ve been barred from so far is the Stream of Silence, but I hope to build enough rapport with their leader so I can conduct some experiments. So how have things been going for you? I know you’re a bit busy with that big project of yours. How’s that been? Hope to hear from you soon, Moondancer. Moondancer honestly didn’t think she was a very hard mare to find: she did more or less the same thing and stuck to an easy to follow schedule. So she was still at a loss as to how Autumn Blaze could never seem to find her. “There you are!” The kirin skidded to a halt in front of her, panting and swiping at her brow. Mondancer was unphased, having seen the exact same scene play out on a nearly daily basis. She flipped a page in her book as her hostess trotted up to the bench. “I told you where I’d be,” Moondancer said. “Like always.” “But I checked your list,” Autumn whined. “You weren’t anywhere!” Moondancer looked away from her book to raise an eyebrow at her. “I spend every morning from eleven to twelve outside the post office.” “Ohhh, I thought you spent it at the library,” Autumn groaned. Moondancer just blinked and shrugged before returning to her book, hoping to at least finish the page before Autumn caught her breath. “Say,” Autumn said after a minute. “Why do you spend so much time out here?” “I want to catch the mailkirin when they come in, and the deliveries from the station usually come in around now,” Moondancer answered. Autumn tapped her chin. “Oooh! Are you expecting a package or something?” “Mail, yes.” “Oh! Oh!” Autumn popped off the bench, prancing in a small circle eagerly. “Is it more equipment for your fieldwork? Recipes from Applejack? Cupcakes from Pinkie Pie?” Autumn licked her lips. “Oh, I hope she made more of those cupcakes!” Moondancer waited patiently until Autumn’s rant was over. “I’m waiting for a letter,” she answered. “A letter!” Autumn’s eyes widened as she gasped. “Of course! From who?” “Coco Pommel,” Moondancer answered, smiling at the name. Her calculations based on the average delivery time of the mail service indicated that Coco should have definitely gotten her letter by now, and her reply would come with the next cart… The cart that was currently being pulled up the hill by a kirin in a spiffy blue uniform. Moondancer shut her book and stood up, making a beeline right for the cart. Autumn Blaze trotted after her, still salivating over the thought of baked goods. “Hiya Dr. Moondancer!” the mailkirin said with a wave. Moondancer nodded. “Is there any mail for me?” The mailkirin nodded, pulling out a letter from his jacket. “Yep, set it aside for you at the station. Just this letter. By the way, River Dance has been feeling kinda ill lately--” “I’m not that kind of doctor,” Moondancer replied for the umpteenth time as she seized the letter. She read the name to herself and felt her heart drop. “Oh. It’s… just from Twilight.” “What does it say?” Autumn asked eagerly, only to cock her head to the side in confusion when Moondancer tossed it aside. “Wait, you’re not going to open it?” Moondancer ignored her as she climbed into the bag of the wagon, opening the bag and poking her head inside. “Did you miss a letter? I’m expecting one from my… from Coco.” “Uh, I didn’t see one,” the mailkirin said. “Maybe she hasn’t had the chance yet?” Autumn asked. Moondancer considered this. Perhaps it was true: her math hadn’t accounted for an error like that, since Coco was usually pretty succinct. But maybe she was still tired from… whatever that big fashion thing was that she was doing. “Good point,” Moondancer admitted before pulling her head out of the bag and hopping back to the ground. “That’s probably it. Thanks, Autumn.” “No worries! Oh, you wanted me to remind you that you’re going to watch Rain Shine lead the choir!” Moondancer nodded. “Right. I hope she doesn’t invite me to sing again.” Autumn cringed but offered her a sympathetic pat. “It’s okay! I’m sure you’ll get there!” Dear Coco, I got to engage in a bit of participant observation yesterday. Rain Shine invited me to sing some passages of her latest song with the choir. Unfortunately I have also discovered that I am tone deaf, and having very little musical training didn’t help me in the slightest. It might surprise you, but yes, I do just fake it in Pinkie’s impromptu musical numbers. I usually just mouth the words and hope nobody notices. Please don’t tell her. Speaking of Pinkie, Autumn has been not so subtly asking for more recipes or treats. Judging by how she’s nearly burned down her kitchen twice now, I’d highly recommend she just send treats. If you could pass that on to Rarity that’d be great, but I’ll probably let Twilight know anyways. Didn’t get a reply if you sent one so I guess you’re still wrapped up with your fashion stuff. Let me know when you’ve got a second, I’ll try not to fill up your mailbox with letters in the meantime. Sincerely, Moondancer. “Yeah, I dunno doc. I guess I was just born with it. Some kirins definitely started out weaker, but they got there in the end! Sort of like you, I guess… no offense, though! You were… definitely a little better than last time!” Moondancer rolled her eyes, blushing a bit from yesterday’s fiasco. “Uh… none taken,” she grumbled. “Thanks, Grass Tide. I think we’re done for today.” Her informant nodded and hopped out of her seat, leaving Moondancer to pack up her tape recorder and notepad. It may have been redundant, but Moondancer would much rather be safer than sorry. She took a second to go over her notes, tapping her chin in thoughts as she ran parts of the conversation through her head. She wasn’t able to get very far before Autumn Blaze crashed into the table next to her. “Oof,” Autumn groaned before straightening herself. “Hi Moondancer! I actually met Blue Moon on the way here and got your mail for you, since I figured you’d be busy with Grass. That kirin sure loves talking, maybe even more than me!” Moondancer waited patiently, but when Autumn didn’t move she prompted her. “So… my mail?” “Oh, you didn’t have any,” Autumn chirped. Moondancer blinked. “...oh. Are you sure?” She stood up, making a move towards the road. “Maybe I should check.” “You don’t need to, I was super thorough when I looked,” Autumn reassured. “Oh.” Moondancer’s ears drooped a bit. “But… But she definitely should have replied by now…” Autumn gave her a sympathetic pat on the back. “Maybe the mail has been delayed? I’m sure there’s a reason!” “Yeah,” Moondancer replied half-heartedly. “Maybe…” Dear Coco, Is everything going okay? I know I said I wouldn’t fill up your mailbox but I’m worried now. It’s been awhile and I haven’t heard anything from you at all. Maybe I’m being silly, and you can totally tell me if I am, but I just want to hear from you! Anything will do! Not much else has happened on my end. The Kirin have a great and rich tradition and the Stream of Silence incident definitely had adverse effects on their culture. I could probably write a whole book on it when I get back. The colors here are so vivid and pretty, too. I never really noticed before but it’s so rich and full here. You’d like it. I think you’d make hundreds of lines based on these colors alone. Wish you were here, Moondancer. Dear Rarity, Hi, this is Moondancer, writing to you from the Kirin village. I was just wondering if everything was okay with Coco? I know she had a big project she was stressed about but I haven’t heard from her at all. Thank you, Moondancer. Dear Twilight, I’m trying to get some letters through to Coco, but she hasn’t replied. I don’t even know if they’ve been getting through. Are you aware of any problems with the mail service right now? Can you check for me? Your friend, Moondancer. Moondancer frowned, tugging on the loose end of her sweater. “You’re sure?” “Yes, Dr. Moondancer,” replied a very disgruntled Blue Moon. “There’s nothing besides the letter I gave you.” “Can you check again?” Blue Moon glared at her before yanking the mailbag open with malice. Moondancer, I checked with the postmaster and there aren’t any problems with the service that we’re aware of. Maybe she’s just busy? How’s the Kirin village treating you? Let me know, Twilight. Coco, Okay, what’s going on? Why haven’t you been returning my letters? Is it something I said? What did I do wrong? Worried, Moondancer. Coco, Please just say something. Anything. I’m really scared and want to know you’re okay. I miss you, Moondancer. Coco, Do you still love me? Because I still love you. A lot. Please. Say something. Moondancer groaned as Autumn Blaze poked at her side. “You’re going to be late,” she urged. “I don’t care,” Moondancer replied, pulling her blanket over her head. “Nothing matters anymore.” Autumn sighed, poking at the researcher-shaped lump some more. “Is this about that friend?” “...maybe,” Moondancer muttered. “Wow. Does not getting a letter from them really mean that much to you?” “Yes!” Moondancer poked her head out of her safety blanket to glare at her. “She… Coco is more than my friend, okay? I… reallyreallylikeher.” She muttered out the last part, blushing furiously as she retreated into her blanket. Autumn was quiet, the gears likely turning in her mind. “Oh. Ohhh. Oh! Awwww, that’s cute! Well, I mean not cute that she’s been ignoring you, but--” She was interrupted by a quiet knock on the door. “Coming!” There was a scurry of hoofsteps on the floorboard before Moondancer heard a timid voice from outside. Her ear twitched as it picked up on some tired words: “Is Moondancer here?” Her eyes widened and Moondancer leaped out of her bed, charging into the hall and crashing into Autumn. “Coco!” Coco Pommel grinned widely and welcomed Moondancer in her embrace. “Hi Moondancer!” Moondancer broke the hug, narrowing her eyes. “Why haven’t you been returning my letters? I’ve been trying to reach you for weeks!” “Oh, have you? I was on a fashion tour, remember? I left home right after you did,” Coco explained nervously. “I hope you weren’t too worried about me.” Moondancer was quiet for a second before slamming her hoof into her head. “Gah! I completely forgot! I know you were talking about a project but I forgot it was a tour! I’m… I’m an idiot! But what are you doing here?” “I wanted to surprise you!” Coco said with a smile. “You were so excited to come here that I just had to see for myself!” Moondancer smiled, but her eyes began to water. “Oh… I was… I was so worried! I thought I did something, or something happened… I’m an idiot, Coco.” “No you’re not! C’mere!” The two embraced again, as Autumn Blaze let out a squeal of delight from behind them. “Awwwwww!”
First ChanceRoseluck sighed, gently freeing a gust of her breath and watching as it parted the rising steam. She pressed her hooves into the sides of her cup harder, a frown tugging at the side of her lips. “More tea?” Roseluck recoiled violently, a shudder sprinting down her spine. “N-no thank you, Miss Cheerilee.” Cheerilee laughed at that, sitting down across from her. “Please, only my students call me Miss. Cheerilee is fine.” “O-okay,” Roseluck answered through chattering teeth. Cheerilee sipped daintily at her own tea, watching Roseluck with a cautious interest. “Roseluck, what in Equestria were you doing out there at a time like this?” Roseluck frowned, her ears folding down against the side of her head. “I… had to tend to my g-garden.” “Your garden?” echoed Cheerilee. “I understand flowers are important to you, but surely they’re not so important for you to risk your life for it!” “I’m fine!” Roseluck protested, holding a shaky hoof up in protest. “R-really!” Cheerilee didn’t answer, but she really didn’t need to. The almost audible chattering of Roseluck’s teeth ripped into the massive holes in her words. Roseluck’s eyes sank into her tea cup, watching as the liquid splashed about unevenly in her trembling hooves. “Roseluck,” Cheerilee sighed, holding a hoof to her forehead. “I may not be Applejack, but being a teacher has taught me to pick up on lies.” Her chin sank lower until she was completely slouched over, her teacup blocking her shameful face from Cheerilee’s eyes. The teacher snorted in amusement. “Roseluck! You’re acting like one of my students right now! Please, just tell me the truth. What were you doing in that storm?” Roseluck sighed and squeezed her eyes shut, as if that subtle movement would wake her from this nightmare. “I had to pick a flower.” “A flower?” “Yeah,” Roseluck muttered. “It only blooms at a certain time. I wanted to get it right.” Her friend was silent, and Roseluck almost risked opening her eyes. Instead, she removed her right hoof from her teacup, lowering it to her jacket pocket. She felt the stem poke her hoof and pulled out the entire flower, not daring to look at it. “It… This is for you.” The flower was in a sorry state. Over half of the petals were lost somewhere in the snow outside, and the bottom of the stem was jagged and ruined. She should have used her cutters, but those were in the shed that was currently buried beneath a few feet of snow. It had taken her almost half an hour to dig out the flower bed, where she had planted it. But it was her own fault for mixing up the weather schedule. Her fault for panicking when she couldn’t pull it out, her fault for resorting to just yanking on it with her teeth until it snapped. Her own fault for ruining her first chance. “For me?” Roseluck sighed, not feeling the strength to move. “Yeah. It’s a new breed I made. It’s called an Arctic Cherry. It’s supposed to have these pure white petals and beautiful red center… but I messed it all up. I’m sorry, Cheerilee.” “But… why for me?” asked Cheerilee. Roseluck opened an eye, staring at her distorted reflection in her teacup. “...it’s for your birthday.” When there was no response, Roseluck finally resorted to opening her eyes fully, albeit with a bated breath. Cheerilee was holding the flower in both hooves, eyes wide. She handled it gracefully and cautiously, as if she were holding a dangerous artifact. “So… you went all this way to make a flower just for me?” “The first of its kind,” Roseluck said lamely. “But why?” she asked again. Roseluck lifted her head, “Because you’re my friend, Cheerilee. And I remember you being so upset when those foals trampled over your garden… I thought it was the least I could do. It’s supposed to be beautiful. I’m sorry.” “Supposed to be?” Cheerilee stood, taking the flower into the kitchen. “Why, Roseluck, it is beautiful.” “But it’s not!” protested Roseluck. “It’s broken! Doesn’t have all the petals on it!” Cheerilee laughed, returning with a vase balanced on her back. She set the vase on the table, then inserted the flower. “But it’s from you, Roseluck. And that makes it beautiful in my eyes.” A flush of heat rushed through Roseluck’s cheeks as she fumbled for words. Cheerilee smiled, putting a hoof on her shoulder. “Rose, seriously,” she giggled. “Sometimes you worry too much. This is beautiful, and I’m so happy for it. But next time maybe you can plant something that… won’t put you at risk of hypothermia?” “Heh,” Roseluck responded, rubbing the back of her neck sheepishly. “Sorry.” “You have nothing to be sorry for,” Cheerilee answered before heading for the kitchen again. “But while you’re here, stay awhile! Big Mac gave me this excellent cake that I really can’t finish by myself.” As Cheerilee rummaged around, Roseluck stared at the ugly flower sitting in Cheerilee’s vase. “She liked it,” Roseluck whispered. “She liked it. Well… not bad for a first try, I guess.” The flower didn’t reply. Roseluck laughed, sipping from her now cold tea. “Not bad at all… Hey Cheerilee, can you put another pot on?”
Graceland, TooParasol could barely see an inch in front of her. It was that strange time of twilight, when night and day blended and merged together, the invisible lines between today and tomorrow fading away. Squinting hard, she stared out at the hill around her but couldn’t see anything other than shadows and imaginary shapes. Empty packets of saltine crackers crunched underneath her hooves as her body practically vibrated with energy. She sat down, extended her right wing to pluck some feathers, then stood up again with a huff. “Someone’s impatient tonight.” “What if we get caught, Apple?” Parasol asked, trying to keep her voice steady. Apple Bumpkin didn’t reply. Their face was briefly illuminated by a match as they hunched over the circular tube in front of them. Seconds later, the firework shot out and up into the sky, exploding into a flash of color that for a few seconds drowned the night in color. “We’re supposed to be doing this,” they finally said as she reached for another one. “Trixie ain’t usin’ ‘em and Twilight don’t want ‘em sittin’ around.” “Still, what if someone gets upset?” Parasol asked. “They can take it up with her,” Apple Bumpkin answered. Parasol sighed, taking another step away from the small pile of Romane Candles next to Apple Bumpkin. “But still, we’re not qualified to do this.” Apple’s face glowed again in the flame of her match as they lit another. “All you need is common sense, sugarcube.” Parasol groaned, flopping down into the grass again and staring up at the endless night sky. “Just... be careful?” “Of course.” The candle shot up into the air again, but Apple Bumpkin didn’t pay it much mind. “You’re nervous about somethin’,” they said neutrally. “Yeah, I’m nervous you’re going to set us both on fire,” Parasol replied, sitting back up. “Ain’t that,” Apple Bumpkin said. “Somethin’ else is eatin’ you. You’re restless, Sol. What’s on your mind?” Parasol folded over, dipping her head down and drooping her ears. “I’m just… Apple, where are you gonna go?” The air was quiet, except for the soft country music playing from Parasol’s radio. “Could go home, but I ain’t gonna,” Apple Bumpkin replied, lighting another match. “Ain’t a point in that.” “Then stay here,” Parasol implored. “With me.” The match went out and another Romane Candle flew into the air. “You know that ain’t what I do. I’m a wanderer, Parasol. That’s what I told you when we met.” “That doesn’t mean I have to like it,” Parasol cried, stamping her hoof into the ground. “I’m worried about you, Bumpy. You don’t sleep in hotels every night, sometimes you don’t even eat for days… every time you come visit you look worse and worse.” Apple Bumpkin held another candle in their hooves, but they didn’t light a match. Instead they sat there, nothing more than a silhouette in the moonlight. “Bumpy… I want you to be who you are,” Parasol tried. “But more than that I want you to be safe.” “I know,” Apple Bumpkin replied, turning the rocket over slowly in her hooves. “I wish I could promise you that. But I told you, Sol, you gotta share me with all of Equestria.” “Because one day you’ll take the world,” Parasol muttered, ears drooping down. “Am I… am I not enough?” The silhouette set the rocket back down on the grass and stood. It walked over to her and sat down next to her. They leaned forwards and pressed their forehead against Parasol’s. “Sugar, you’re more than enough. But I can’t stay. I’m… worried that I ain’t gonna find myself.” “Then let me help,” Parasol whispered, feeling like crying. “Come on. I need you here. You’ve been on the move for years and it hasn’t worked. Please. Just… just try staying?” Apple Bumpkin pulled away, their eyes glowing faintly in the dark. “Alright, sugar. Alright.” They leaned in again, this time closing their eyes and letting their lips guide them. When they pulled apart, Parasol spread a wing around Apple’s side and pulled them tight, leaning her head into their neck. Apple lit another match, letting the warmth wash over their bodies. “Some day, I’ll own the world,” they said over the music of the radio. Parasol smiled gently. “And Equestria?” “And Equestria, too.” They were quiet for a moment, leaning into each other as the faint hum of music filled the air. Eventually, Apple grabbed another rocket.
Blue on Blue (One)The kettle was cold now. So was Strawberry Sunrise. A while ago she had wanted to brew some tea and relax to the drumming of rain against her roof, and take a break from the little things that had been chewing on her. She had been getting into fights with Cherry over small things: the dishes, their schedules, their future… Strawberry just wanted a break from it all. But life --or more accurately her girlfriend-- had other plans. And unfortunately, those plans apparently involved the destruction of her barn. Cherry Berry was sitting at the dining room table, still dripping wet, and glaring daggers at her. Strawberry stared right back, leaning against the counter and holding a towel to her head. She pulled it away to see a light red staining it, and her scowl deepened. “Well?” she asked. “Well what?” Cherry countered, running her own towel through her mane. “Are you going to apologize?” “Me? Apologize? I was handling myself perfectly fine until you flew up to me screaming like a banshee,” Cherry said, her squeaky voice full of bitterness and anger. Strawberry threw her hooves in the air. “Oh! I am oh so terribly sorry I tried to pull you out of a fucking thunderstorm. That you were flying straight into.” “The thunderstorm that wasn’t on the weather report,” Cherry muttered. “The weather report? The weather report?!” Strawberry’s voice rose and she tossed aside her towel in disgust. “Do you not remember me telling you that the weather team was putting one together? Because of the clerical error that put my farm into a mini-drought?” “You never said that!” Cherry countered. “Besides, I had that under control until you intervened and now I’m down a balloon!” “Oh no! You lost one of your twenty fancy hot air balloons,” Strawberry answered, her voice raising to the pitch she reserved for mocking others. “You know that barn you crashed into? That’s worth every single one of those balloons and probably more!” Cherry frowned, her eyes darting to the table at that. “...How bad was the damage?” “I don’t know, I haven’t had a chance to look yet,” Strawberry grumbled, wringing out her towel over the sink. “I was too busy making sure you weren’t dead.” They fell quiet again as the rain grew in volume outside the window. Strawberry stared into her sink basin as she squeezed the bloody towel. She felt something brewing inside of her, but her brain was too tired and muddled to try and make sense of it. Her jaw began to ache from the clenching, so she closed her eyes and exhaled slowly. She turned when she heard Cherry hiss in pain. “What’s wrong?” “Nothing,” Cherry replied, pulling a towel away from her body. Strawberry trotted over, fetching a clean one. Her eyes widened as she saw her wound. “Oh Celestia, that cut’s pretty deep.” “Yeah, thanks Captain Obvious,” Cherry hissed, snatching the towel out of Strawberry’s hooves. For a second, Strawberry was angry. But she took another breath and tried to shove it down. “Cherry, we should go to the hospital and get that checked.” “I’m fine,” Cherry replied. Strawberry frowned, tugging on Cherry’s hoof. “Come on, I’m worried about it.” Cherry tugged her hoof away and scowled. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” Strawberry’s calm quickly faded away as a resurgence of anger hit her body. “Me? Me?! What the fuck is wrong with you!” Cherry shouted. Strawberry snarled. “Oh, nothing darling. It’s not like you never listen to me, and it’s not like you’re never even home anymore to talk with me! Forgive me for worrying about you!” “Oh, that’s just rich coming from you, a pony who has never given a shit about how anyone else feels!” Cherry shouted as she stood up. “You ever think that maybe you’re the reason you don’t have any fucking friends?” That got a gasp out of her. Strawberry quickly narrowed her eyes as her scowl deepened, pressing her own face close to Cherry’s. “What the fuck?! Like I’m going to take advice from some pony who spends all day up in the clouds dreaming instead of doing any actual fucking work! You love being up there more than you love me, don’t you?” Cherry recoiled for a second before recovering. “Fuck you, Strawberry! You’re a real fucking asshole! I don’t know what the fuck I ever saw in you.” “Just… just get out,” Strawberry hissed, her voice dropping low as tears stung her eyes. “Fine.” Cherry flicked her tail and left. Strawberry stood stock still as the rain beat down on the house, long after the door had slammed shut. Eventually she moved, staggering for the sink. She looked into the cold, empty basin as she took a jagged breath. Her chest felt as if it was collapsing on itself, and in a panic she fumbled with the kettle, grabbing it in her hooves. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” With a scream she turned and hurled it against the wall. “FUCK!” There was a roar of thunder outside.
LambertIt was raining in Mareseille, but Rainbow couldn’t remember how she had gotten here. From behind the massive glass window, she watched as a flash of lightning tore up the air and the skies dumped gallons and gallons of water onto the airfield. With an angry whinny, she scuffed her hoof against the ugly carpet, feeling a bit of electricity zapping her. She almost felt it. How had she gotten here? Outside, massive ariships lounged, idle and waiting for the storm to clear. Hadn’t she just arrived on one the day before? Rainbow dragged a hoof down her face, feeling worse and worse with every second that passed her by. She huffed in annoyance, trying to pry any information loose from her brain. What time even was it? Seven? No, Rainbow realized. It’s seven in Saddle Arabia. That’d make it… ten in Prance? She looked away from the window, scanning the idle terminal. Her gate was still mostly empty, lit up by the warm and welcoming glow of shops that lined the walls. “Hey.” Rainbow’s ear twitched as a soft voice called out from her right. “Oh. Hey Fleetfoot,” she answered monotonously. Fleetfoot passed her a styrofoam cup, sleeved in a cardboard heat protector. Rainbow took it in her hoof and stared at it, forgetting for a second what she was meant to do with it. “How are you holding up?” Fleetfoot asked. Rainbow shrugged. “Fleet, have we been here before?” Fleetfoot nodded. “We just flew in yesterday, Rainbow. From Saddle Arabia, for the next part of our tour.” “Our tour.” The Wonderbolts were on tour. Rainbow remembered now. She was just talking with Spitfire at the stadium, as they examined the venue and began practicing the routine. But had it really only been yesterday? Why did it feel like an eternity ago? “Here, sit,” Fleetfoot instructed, gently guiding her over to a row of uncomfortable plastic chairs. Rainbow obeyed, trying to mask her internal frustrations. It seemed like for every two steps she took, every two questions she answered, another one would unveil itself like a discount street magician. Why was Fleetfoot being gentle with her? Fleetfoot had a softer side, sure, but it almost never came out during tours. Fleetfoot was savvy and sassy, witty and sarcastic. She didn’t buy Rainbow coffee, or help her sit down. Where were the rest of the Wonderbolts? Why was Rainbow feeling so numb? And why did it feel like she knew these answers already? Rainbow trembled slightly, but it was enough for Fleetfoot to notice. She put a hoof on her back and started rubbing circles into it. Rainbow felt herself relax, squeezing her eyes shut and drawing a deep breath. She had just arrived with the Wonderbolts. Now she was leaving, but only with Fleetfoot. Why? “Here, drink,” Fleetfoot offered. Rainbow obeyed, feeling the scalding liquid trickling down her throat. Her mind didn’t even register what it was. Fleetfoot reached over and squeezed her free hoof. She locked eyes with Rainbow, but didn’t say anything. But something passed over her face, and Rainbow realized she had seen that expression before. Griffonstone, three years ago. Rainbow was talking with Misty Fly when a messenger arrived on the field and passed a note to Spitfire. Spitfire read it once, then froze. Then she read it again. Then she called Soarin, and the two read it together. Then they called Fleetfoot, who landed beside them. Spitfire whispered something to her and Fleetfoot… Fleetfoot screamed and cried and fell over, weeping. The other Wonderbolts crowded around her in a powerful hug, and she had cried and cried and cried. She left for home the next day. Rainbow looked down and realized she was still wearing her training jacket. Had she not changed before she left? A glance to her right showed that Fleetfoot was also wearing the same thing. What had pulled them out of training like that? Rainbow looked up out the window. Suddenly, she was angry. She snarled, feeling something hot and uncomfortable building and building in her chest. Tears began streaking from her eyes, hot like lava. She began to shake, unable to contain the anger. Fleetfoot said nothing but seized her in a hug. Reflexively, Rainbow hugged back. She buried her face into Fleetfoot’s jacket and gave a muffled scream, one that sounded so harsh and monstrous she didn’t recognize it as her own voice. She slammed a hoof into Fleetfoot’s shoulder. Her teammate didn’t react but hugged her tighter. And Rainbow cried until she couldn’t anymore. She landed a few more punches on Fleetfoot’s shoulder, not out of spite for her, but because she had nowhere else to put her anger. When she was empty, Fleetfoot pushed the cup underneath her mouth again. “Drink, Rainbow,” she commanded, and Rainbow obeyed. The liquid landed in her stomach like lead. She pulled away, swiping at her eyes. Even though the anger was gone, she still trembled, feeling her teeth chattering against themselves. “Do you need more tissues?” “N-no, I…” Rainbow shoved a hoof into her jacket pocket and was surprised when it procured a folded piece of paper. As she pulled it out, a particularly loud crack of thunder filled the air. And she remembered. She remembered the journey on the airship. She remembered rereading the letter her mother had sent, saying that her father’s surgery had gone well and although he was tired, he was home. She remembered seeing the messenger run onto the field, making a beeline straight for Spitfire. She remembered Spitfire tearing it open, reading it to herself, then her own face hardening. Rainbow looked at the crumpled, tear-stained paper in her hoof, then turned to look at Fleetfoot. She remembered Fleetfoot requesting to accompany her home, and Spitfire allowing it. “She’ll need you,” Spitfire had told her. Against her own judgement, she unfolded the paper, letting the words stab at her eyes. Rainbow… your father… in his sleep. You need to come home. “You need to go home,” Spitfire had told her. So Rainbow packed her things and left. The reality of it all came crashing down around her. She remembered going on walks down Cloudsdale streets, perched upon her father’s shoulder. She remembered going to the movies and getting embarrassed when he fell asleep, and she remembered her shock when he showed up at a Wonderbolts show. “Rainbow,” Fleetfoot said. “I can make a rainbow in the sky,” Rainbow heard herself say. “But it wouldn’t have any light.” Fleetfoot hugged her again, and Rainbow made no move to resist it. For a second, Rainbow was angry again. She couldn’t wait any longer. She’d fly up and buck all those stupid storm clouds to smithereens. The prissy Prench farmers could afford to wait, Rainbow couldn’t. She’d get those airships in the sky if she had to do it by herself. She’d fly all the way back to Equestria if the ships wouldn’t take her. She’d… Do nothing. It wouldn’t change a thing. Her father was still gone. The folded piece of paper slipped free of her hooves and onto the carpet. Fleetfoot didn’t say anything, but she didn’t really need to. Her eyes told Rainbow that she understood the pain, and that words would do nothing but fall short. So she hugged her, her thumping heart pounding against the storm in Rainbow’s chest. I’m two steps in the wrong. I’m two steps in the wrong. There was a roar of thunder from outside.
Last Night for a Table of TwoThere was a tightness in her heart that threatened to choke it. “Fluttershy, darling, if you have something to say, please do speak it now.” If Fluttershy had heard the question she didn’t reply. Instead she let out a low hum, scrutinizing the menu in her hooves carefully. “Oh, what was that dish that Twilight recommended? The carrot stew I believe?” Her facade helped ease the pain, but even as she sat there Fluttershy felt something slowly churning in her stomach. Rarity scoffed, slapping her menu against the table. “Are you even listening to me, dear?” Again, Fluttershy didn’t respond, holding the menu up to her face. “I know Angel would love that dish,” she giggled to herself. The waiter paused by their table, notepad ready in their magic. But Rarity waved them off, squinting across the table. “Fluttershy.” “Yes, Rarity?” asked Fluttershy without putting down the menu. Rarity seized the item in her magic and yanked it away. A shadow of anger flashed over Fluttershy’s face but it quickly dissipated. She folded her hooves on the table, staring across at her friend intently. “Yes, Rarity? Are you ready to order?” “Oh damn the food!” Rarity hissed. “What has gotten into you?” “What do you mean?” Rarity held a hoof to her chest and narrowed her eyes. “Please, don’t play the fool with me. You’ve barely looked at me this entire time.” “Oh, is that hurting you?” asked Fluttershy, tilting her head to the side. “Left you feeling ignored? Is that it, Rarity?” “Fluttershy--” “I can’t imagine how that’d feel,” Fluttershy said, her voice keeping the volume but growing icy. They stared at each other, the atmosphere of the restaurant lost around them. Rarity cleared her throat. “Perhaps we should drop the subject and just have a nice dinner together.” “But you were the one who wanted to talk,” Fluttershy said. “And I do have something to say, you know.” “Oh, now you do,” muttered Rarity. Fluttershy’s smile grew terse. “It’s nothing you haven’t heard before, you know.” Rarity raised an eyebrow. “I’ve been saying the same things for a long time now, Rarity. I guess you just haven’t been listening.” That drew a scowl out of her. “Oh, don’t play the guilt card on me. You know quite well I’ve been incredibly busy--” “I do know!” Fluttershy slammed her hooves on the table in a manner that was anything but soft. “But you don’t know how that’s been affecting me!” “How can I when you never say a word?” Rarity countered, raising her voice to match. “You can’t possibly expect me to hear you when you barely speak above a whisper! I have asked you so, so many times what you think of matters and you’ve barely said a word!” Fluttershy scoffed. “Actions speak louder than words, Rarity. You should know that by now.” “As if that justifies your dismissal of every question I ask!” Rarity shot back. “I’ve asked you dozens of times if you are okay and I’ve never gotten a reply!” Fluttershy leaned back in her chair, folding her forelegs over her chest. The weight in her stomach felt lifted now, and it was a brilliant, vindicating feeling. She wished she could hold onto it forever. The clatter of utensils around them wavered, the candles present at each table flickering and waving. Several other patrons glanced in their direction discreetly, whispering to one another. “Seriously, darling, just… why didn’t you say something?” Rarity asked, rubbing her temples. “Why didn’t you notice I did?” spat Fluttershy. The waiter lingered at the edge of the table again but quickly and quietly excused themselves. “I’d like to just have a nice dinner,” Rarity said, straightening herself up. Fluttershy giggled. “What’s the matter? I thought you were always happy when you were making a scene.” The ice cold glare from Rarity startled her, but Fluttershy’s fear was snuffed out by a bright burning anger free of its cage. “Well I’m sorry, but I’m not hungry anymore,” she replied. She stood, the chair scraping against the floor. Rarity watched her, the unicorn’s face unreadable. Fluttershy held her ground, her mind a mass of seamless, shapeless thoughts. “In fact, I think this was a mistake,” she heard herself say. “I thought I was having dinner with someone I knew.” Rarity glared at her. “My mistake then,” she spat venomously. “I suppose you weren’t impressed by my glamorous attempts, and of everything I’ve already done for you.” Fluttershy smiled, feeling light-headed. “You should keep that glamor for yourself. You’ll need it when your lights go down.” With that, Fluttershy turned and felt her body guide herself out of the restaurant. Rarity sat still for a minute before sniffing and signaling for the waiter. “Your finest wine, please,” she declared. She glared towards the door before adding: “And if you would, I’ve no need for those utensils. A table for one will suffice for tonight.”
Moments in Between (Or, Blue on Blue, Two)Strawberry sighed, wiping her brow as she scanned the clearing where her barn once stood. The wreckage of Cherry’s-- of the balloon was gone now, along with the collapsed walls of the former barn. An inventory concluded that much of her equipment had been destroyed or damaged, but it could always be replaced. Unlike-- Strawberry felt sick and quickly shook her head. She stood, glancing up at the sun to try and determine how much more daylight she had. As she turned to head back to the farmhouse, she froze at the sight of a pink blob heading towards her. It had been a week since they’d fought, and Strawberry had managed to convince herself that Cherry wasn’t coming back. But there she was, face carefully neutral and a few bandages covering her body. She stopped in front of Strawberry and neither of them spoke. “H-hey,” Strawberry finally offered, her voice breaking a bit. Cherry drew a deep breath before she finally locked eyes with Strawberry. “I’m sorry,” she finally muttered. “I… I’m sorry too,” Strawberry replied. “I said some… rotten stuff that night. I really shouldn’t have.” “Me too. It’s just… I don’t know what came over me,” Cherry replied, digging her hoof into the dirt. Strawberry bit her hoof, rubbing the back of her neck. “I… I think maybe it was the small stuff. For me, anyways. I mean, there was a lot of stuff building up before that night. Where we were fighting over small, stupid things.” “Yeah, like the dishes,” Cherry answered, chuckling softly. “We… we shouldn’t have just let them lay but… I dunno. I guess I was too scared to confront them. Like the coward I am.” Strawberry glanced up. “You’re not a coward. I mean, you’re braver than most for doing all that stuff you do with your balloon.” “Not that night,” Cherry muttered. “I was scared, especially when you came flying after me. I… Strawberry, we almost died.” She looked around the empty clearing, remembering how the barn lay in a smoldering wreck when she had first started cleaning it up. “I… guess we’re lucky then,” Strawberry offered. Cherry chuckled softly, and that made Strawberry feel a little bit better. “You know… I care about you,” Strawberry continued. “I don’t know if I ever said it because I’m not great with words, but you mean a lot to me, Cherry. I’m sorry I hurt you like that.” “Me too,” Cherry answered. “You didn’t deserve that. I was wrong.” “Not as wrong as I was,” Strawberry countered. “Agree to disagree?” “Sure.” They shared a quick hug before something occurred to Strawberry. “You know… you’re paying for that barn you broke.” “...would a kiss cover it?” Strawberry couldn’t help but laugh at that.
