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[Trottingham] With his head in the Clouds.


jack

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Trottingham is referred to by it's own zealous tourist industry as "The Jewel of the Lakes". From it's golden shored throne; it commands views across the vast Nimbusgait lakes. The town is home to the wealthy and influential earth ponies of Equestria; seeking solace in retirement or starting their new lucrative careers in the most popular resort on land.

Grand hotels of white brick and gold tile tower over the bleach blonde sands of the coast, they provide a sun shade across the cobblestoned streets; lined with gift shops and 4 star restaurants. As the rows of buildings ascend the slopes away from the beaches, the commercial buildings dissipate away in favour of grand villas and luxurious apartments. Their architecture varying greatly from preserved classical buildings to abstract, modern design.

The commercial hub of Equestria goes to great lengths to maintain it's picturesque reputation, a dedicated police force and sanitation department ensure the streets are literally pristine come day or night. Shopkeepers spend more of their time perfecting their hospitality than actually trading custom, popular as the town may be; the streets are serenely peaceful. The high costs of Trottingham discourage the purse strings of anypony from a more humble salary, but the tourist industry thrives regardless; the nearby city of Cloudsdale bringing in passing traffic regularly.

If The Lakes before Trottingham form the crown of the east, then Cloudsdale would be the gleaming jewel atop them. The mass of spiralling, white towers and cascading multicoloured rivers inspire awe in the eyes of any earth pony. The miles long reflection of the flying city shimmers and shines even brighter in the lakes below. The citizens of Trottingham are always provided with two magnificent wonders to envy, both always out of their reach.

As hard as Trottingham may try, as beautiful their city of expansive art, culture, and history may be; it is always outshined by the flying society above them. Persistently, the tourist trade plays on the lure of Cloudsdale to bring in more business; throwing parties for the Young Flyer competitions and commissioning the Wonderbolts to perform for them regularly. Trottingham's pride is second only to it's own insecurity, they find themselves unable to escape the metaphorical shadow of the white cotton society above them.

A community of rich ponies with a lot of disposable income and an inferiority complex are very alluring to a keen businessman. With the right amount of charisma, he could convince the wealthy ponies of Trottingham that their already shining jewel could do with being just a little bit brighter. Their windows could shimmer more vibrantly than any rainbow, and their homes could be cleaner than the whitest cloud.

Cleanliness was important to Trottingham; rivalled perhaps only by the pony skipping confidently up the cobbled highstreet of town. The bright, sandy stones reverberating satisfyingly thick clops from his shined hooves; they conduct a rhythmic bounce from the wagon behind him. The wood pannelled sides painted a royal gold that shone in the morning sun, the arch roof; a deep fiery crimson seems to shimmer and bathe the windows of houses in an exciting red aura. The blue title proudly emblazened across the yellow sides; "SOOTY'S SWEEPS" is punctuated by an illustrative sweep's brush beneath it.

Presentation is important to any cleaner; it speaks volumes about his ability and the service he will provide. No pony appreciated this more than Sooty, as he marched proudly down the street; he lavished himself in the burning sunlight. His charcoal coat shined beautifully; his short, tidy mane and tail bounced playfully in his stride. Both himself and his wagon needed to sell themselves to potential customers before he could even pitch his sale. This was no more applicable anywhere than it was in Trottingham; the well to do, aloof playboys and debutants needed to know this earth pony was capable of making their town shine even brighter. It was also helpful that any rube could be talked into parting with their coin if talked up the right way.

Sooty loved Trottingham; from the beautiful, bored housemares to the pristine streets. While the meticulously maintained houses did not provide the satisfaction of tough dirt to clean, the loose purse strings and luxurious lifestyle were more than enough compensation for this pony.

Assertively, Sooty slowed his wagon to a halt; threw saddlebags of tools across his back and stood upon the steps of his mobile home. Bracing his lungs, he took in the street before him; admiring some of the prettier mares, eyeing up some of the finer dressed Colts and struggling to contain his excitement for the town of rubes before him. Abruptly; he bellowed out in a thick, unmistakable accent that carried across the entire square "CHIMNEY SWEEP FOR HIRE, SHINE YA HOOVES, SHINE YA WINDOWS, IF IT'S DIRTY; WE'LL SHINE IT."

When Sooty stopped to gauge the reaction of pedestrians, the confident smile on his face began to falter when the looks of surprise on their faces grew into fright. Abruptly; the streets cleared, OPEN signs flipped, stalls were wheeled away and an orchestra of dainty hooves on cobblestone took off and emptied the town square.

"Huh." So these rubes had convinced themselves they had heads on their shoulders, it would not stop him; he was the most charming and adept sweep in Equestria! He could talk these rich fools into gilding lillies if he desired.

Taking stock of the empty street, Sooty tipped back his brown work cap and whistled. He would not let setbacks and wise-arses stop him from making a mean bit of cash and maybe some fun with somepony's wife if he had the time. But with no one willing to be speak him, what could he do? He felt the permanent grin on his face shrink and the unfamiliar feeling of relaxed cheeks spread across his face.

Perhaps this town had become too smart for him, maybe it was time to move on? Well sod them anyway! Bunch of bleeding Nigels would not know charm or a good hoof shine if it came up and bit them! He would take his talents elsewhere, a brighter jewel than the nest of paranoid snobs that sat in the shadow of Cloudsdale.

A spark ignited behind sea blue eyes and a bright smile returned to Sooty's face. He looked down towards the distant lakes and admired the grand reflection, split down the middle by the shimmering golden beam of the sun. His eyes rose to meet the city of clouds above. "Cloudsdale!" He muttered to himself, how brightly it shined; how beautifully the rivers of rainbows shimmered. Surely there of all places a craftsman of cleanliness and perfection would be appreciated. Additonally; the foreign charm of being an Earth Pony in the city of Pegasi would help his sales pitch substantially, and of course the Pegasi had no reason to know of his undeservedly negative reputation; he'd never been there!

Sooty's mind drifted to thoughts of Pegasi mares, their soft feathered wings and trim, muscular frames. Indeed; Cloudsdale would be the place for him to make his fortune. Immediately he was at a gallop through the square and deeper into town. He needed to find a way to get to Cloudsdale and stay up there! How would he take his wagon? He supposed he could just take his saddlebags, but how long could he stay? How much would it cost?

Questions of self doubt were quickly shoved to the back of his mind and replaced with fantasy of female Pegasi, maintaining the beautiful white clouds and sweeping the chimneys of factory columns, and back to female Pegasi. Somepony in this town had to know a way up there. As loathe as Trottingham's ponies were to admit it; Cloudsdale was the crux of their tourist industry, somepony would know how to get him up there.

Whether it was with wings, in a balloon, a flying chariot, a magic spell, or even on the back of a Dragon; Sooty was going to Cloudsdale, he just needed to find some gullable rube in this stuck up town he could trick into helping him!

[Edit; people brought to my attention that deciding character actions for them in any tense, is inconsiderate; so for the sake of them, it has been cut.]

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