Beakbreak city. Or, as ‘Gritty’ Bones called it, Backbreak city.
Appropriately nicknamed as such, for its industrious scrapyards and great amount laboring ponies. Each and every day, he’d wake up in his apartment, grey and dirty, start out the door and down the hallway, grey and dirty, and into the scrapyard’s cafeteria. Grey and dirty. He’d look down at his breakfast plate. Grey and dirty.
Gritty let out an audible sigh, then slapped a false-hearted smile over his face as he began to eat. His co-worker, a mare dubbed ‘Smokey’, cast him a look of slight concern.
“You ‘kay, bud?”
“Aye, aye. Just tired.”
She smirked. “As usual?”
Gritty returned her smirk with a grin of his yellowed, ill-kempt teeth.
“ ’Course.”
She was always a nice one, he thought. Whilst many of the other workponies were usually friendly but wary of him- largely due to his ‘out-there’ appearance with the wing-rings, studs, and lazily held Mohawk- she always tossed the preconceptions aside and showed no reservations about teasing him around the same as everypony else. He liked it.
“Yea, well. Better eat up and energize. A lot of tearing to be done this morning, hm? Did ya’ hear? Another freighter came in from Stalliongrad that was past its prime, right after we all signed off for the night. Orders are to tear her up, and collect the pieces for smelting.”
“Joy of joys.” He snorted, a chuckle materializing in his throat shortly thereafter.
Smokey giggled, and gave him a playful nudge in the shoulder with her head.
“C’mon, ya overgrown colt! Eat up!”
More of the droning march out into the yard, only instead of his solitary, quiet march to the cafeteria, he was joined by nearly the entire pony workforce for the district. Optimism abound, this morning. It was good to see- considering the work. It was hard work. If one didn’t have a smile on their face, and the ability to joke around and rough-house to keep spirits up, it might get to them.
It would start as this; the ship would have the hull latched onto, and a team of ponies would start to haul and tear each metal plating off. This was largely Gritty’s work, whereas Smokey would get to work at cutting the pieces into smaller, portable sheets with her team. The metal would then be loaded onto carts, where it’d be hauled off to be smelted and remade for a number of uses- sometimes for building material, sometimes for train metals, sometimes to become a new hull for a brand new airship.
Gritty turned his eyes up to the monumental freighter. A bright smile found its way over his dark visage.
“Stalliongrad’s done itself proud again. Look at this thing, eh?”
The other ponies let out a chuckling chorus of agreements. The ships seemed to grow in size each and every time. Not that it was a bad thing- it was a well-known fact that if you were working in the scrapyard, you were working for every waking moment- but it was…. Neat. Gritty sometimes felt bad about tearing up the great symbols of pony progress in Equestria, but the thought of what new wonders the metals might bring cheered him and his comrades back into the tough task.
The tearing ponies got to work at dressing in their protective outfits. Each one had those slight modifications to declare who it belonged to- some had scrapings of cutie marks, some had a couple of slogans and jokes, some were colored to each ponies’ interest. Gritty had colored his with a dark blue shine, in favor of his idol, Princess Luna. His admiration of her was met with much ridicule from the other ponies- particularly Smokey, they he could never tell why.
Throughout his domicile, self-drawn pictures of her littered the walls, a pile of unsent letters addressed to Canterlot was situated messily in one corner, and he had traded in his standard bed sheet for one with a moon decorating it. There was something about her- perhaps it was her image as someone meaning well, but being judged as dark and cruel. Maybe he could just relate to her. Maybe he just liked her hair. Maybe he simply had a blind amazement with royalty, as many others, but had no parents around to set him straight and no friends brave enough to confront him about it. Whatever the reason may be, he always had a pressing courage when the moon was high in the sky, and team leader noted that he always worked hardest when out of the direct light of the sun.
And so was the situation, the team lined up- Gritty Bones feeling encouraged in the shade of the steel giant- and the harnesses were attached by an overseer. Strap, strap, strap.
“You ponies ready?”
“Aye.”
“Yup.”
“Yessir’.”
“Yea.”
“Right then. On the count of three.”
One, two, three. Heave. One two three, heave. This was his life for the past immeasurable amount of years. Head out to work, and start pulling. Pull ‘til the sun goes down, then maybe he’d go fetch a milkshake or something at the corner store just outside of the scrapyard’s main gate with some coworkers. Or perhaps he’d go to his room, and write more letters to neglect to send. Or maybe head up to the roof of the housing complex, and do some late night stargazing with Smokey. These thoughts kept him smiling throughout the day, as each piece of the hull fell off with an echoing ‘Clank’.
As they worked, the ponies chatted cheerfully. Every hour or so, however, the chatter would fade and be replaced by a working song. Generally a simple, repeating tune to keep the beat of the work, though fun it would certainly be. Almost every time a piece of the hull fell off by his team’s hand, Smokey’s team came to fetch it for cutting. Likely at her urging, Gritty knew, as they would trade obscure silly faces whenever she’d arrive. At least, until they broke out laughing, attracting the attentions of not only their own, but every team around. This would continue until an overseer came by, barking at them to get back to work. And so they would, though the face-competition would never end, and everyone in the area knew it.
The sun found its way to the top of the sky, though the dusty smog of Beakbreak kept it from shining too strongly. They all halted the work, then headed back to the cafeteria for a lunch- generously paid by the overseers, as usual. Grey and dirty of course, but unlike the breakfasts, he tended to like the lunches. It gave him an extra kick, after a long morning of repetitive work. Then back to work for the afternoon.
The sun fell, and a steam whistle sounded from somewhere over the to-be-smelted steel piles. The harnesses were taken from the backs of the ponies, much to their relief, and Gritty wasted no time in stretching and loosening his back.
Smokey immediately started over to where his team was dismantling operations, a sly grin over her face.
“Pff. You call that tearing, Gritty?”
“Heh, like you’d know. You’ve got the easy work.”
“-Oh- really?”
“Yea! Anyone can cut. Takes some real muscle to tear that thing apart- ‘n you know it there, filly.”
“Filly? I’ll have you know it takes some real brain and precision to perfect those pieces!”
Gritty giggled shortly.
“Exactly why it’s perfect for you, brainiac. Let’s head down to the shop-“ He raised his voice, firing a grin of his own over to the rest of his team. “- I’ll buy.”
This was met with an approving cheer from his friends. All but Smokey, who just smiled, trying to hide her disappointment that they wouldn’t be alone. “Uhm... Yea! ... Can’t wait...”
That night, Gritty sat over his desk, quill at the ready. “Dear mother.” He thought aloud, before scribbling it down.
“It was a good day at the yard, today. We ripped apart another juggernaut- this one for you again, of course. I’ve written a few more letters to Luna. I’m certain she likes reading them.”
He creased his eyebrows guiltily, and smirked sheepishly over at the pile of unsent letters.
“How’s Manehattan been treating you? Every now and then we’ll get a remainder of a shipment originally from that town. Always looks so important! Not to mention it probably means you’ve been doing great. Are you a big-wig yet?
Well, when you do get transformed into one, please don’t forget about your son. I’m doing the scrub work, while you get to do the fancy work- but remember where you started, ma. I love you very much.”
His smile slightly faded, knowing what he’d been denying. A sigh escaped his lips.
“Feel better, ma. We’re all rooting for you.
Love, Gritty Bones.
Your son.”
The quill was dropped to the corner of the desk, letting a bit more unused ink spill from the tip into a small stain from nights past.
He clopped quietly over to the window, casting a look out and over the dingy city. The moon was out. He smiled softly. It was a full moon that night… The best type. It was good luck. The exact type of luck he was after, too. “Take care, ma’. I love ya’.”
The bed was calling his name. His heart urged it to wait longer, but his brain knew better, and before long he was ‘flomped’ onto the sheets, dozing off into the night.
The next few days seemed normal, though the smoke in the sky was slightly thicker… Slightly greyer. Smokey came to meet him as usual, and even she seemed a tad less energetic- though her smile was still bright.
In the midst of hauling at the steel titan about a week later from the night he wrote the letter, the team abruptly stopped. An overseer started over, holding an envelope.
“Gritty Bones?”
Gritty raised his eyebrow.
“Yea?”
“Letter for ya’, mate.”
Immediately the other ponies started giggling and teasing.
“Ooo, maybe it’s from Luna!” Teased one.
“Oh Gritty! Come scoop me up knight-in-shining armor!” Jeered another.
“Your letters are so romantic!” Chortled one more.
“Oh, can I come to your wedding Gritty?” Begged the other.
The giggling and teasing continued as Gritty gave a smirk to his friends.
“Don’t get your hopes up, boys. Letter’s from Manehattan. Wedding’ll have to wait.”
“D’awwww.” They all moaned in mock disappointment.
He unfolded the letter, a smile bright on his face as he expected to see the reply from his mother. It faded quickly, a churning feeling in his stomach. The remaining chuckles faded as well, as they watched his expression.
“…. Buddy?”
Gritty was silent, his permanently tough expression fading. He felt alone. Pained. The overseer nodded awkwardly.
“… Sorry, mate..”
“It’s alright. I’m good.” Gritty bit his lip, and nodded, forcing back the tears. “I’m.. I’m good.”
The overseer gave a stern look to the other ponies, who cringed under the glare. “Back to work, everypony. Gritty?”
“…. Yea?”
“You’re dismissed for the day. Think it over. Get a game plan, yea’?”
“… Yea… Okay.”
The overseer gave one more nod, and reached up a hoof to pat him on the shoulder with slight encouragement. The mouth opened to say something, but nothing came out. He then started off, leaving Gritty standing there, gazing at the letter once more. Alone in the scrapyard. Alone.
He lay, solitary, on the rooftop of the housing complex, gazing up at the stars. The metal clunking of the door sounded out faintly, followed by the clopping of someone approaching. A soft fall as Smokey lay beside him, staring up at the heavens as well.
“… Gritty?”
“….. Mm.”
“…. You know…. Why she left, right?”
“…. Eh… Yea.”
“….. She wanted to escape. Follow her dreams. I stopped by your room, looking for you.”
“… Did ya’?”
“Mhm...” She chuckled carefully. “I saw the pile of letters to Luna.”
He grinned, his cheeks reddening a little. “… Yea…”
“… They weren’t that bad, y’know.”
“…. Thanks.”
“…. Maybe, if you… Really wanted… You could... Uhm… Well, what I mean is… There’s the REA...”
He creased his eyebrows with confusion, and rolled over.
“Enlist?”
“Well… It’s not like it’s dangerous or anything… I mean, how many wars does Equestria honestly fight?”
“….. I guess… But why?”
“… Maybe… One day, you could get to be an honor guard.””
He blinked.
“For Luna.” She continued, winking at him.
A small smile quirked at his lips.
“… You think that, Smokey?”
“…. Well… I know I’d like to have you guarding me.”
“…. I… Maybe…. Maybe I will. Go to Canterlot… Enlist…”
“… Don’t forget to write. We’ll all miss you here…”
“I’ll miss you ponies too. Particularly you, Smokey.” He grinned. “Best pals for life?”
“Best pals for life.”
The next day, he started out to the scrapyard. The teams were allowed to hold back from working today, to throw a short-notice going away party. They were few tears, most ponies ready and willing to encourage him along his way. Smiles, laughter, talk about the old times. Promises to write, hugs… But all hanging on a delicate note.
And then, when it was all done, they all saw him off. He started down the road south, knowing there’d be a few more hours of the industrial city before he made it out into the canyon. But before he got too far, he turned his eye back to the waving crowd of workers. He spotted Smokey. Tear in her eye, the sight spurring on a tear in his own.
“Bye.” She mouthed.
“Bye.” He replied, a smile appearing despite his tears.
She nodded slowly… Then made the most ridiculous face he could imagine. She won. He continued on, out of the city, into the world- laughing aloud at the thought of that face. Because even when the world seems sober and serious, all it would take was one silly face to show him the truth. The world’s what you make it to be. Canterlot awaited. As did his future.
