Snowshoe

Oups, my bad xD If we're doing one vendor position, I'd probably chose Timbre then. Sorry for messing up the order, didn't realize you wanted more, and sadly I don't think there's a delete post option.

Dapper Dan let out a soft chuckle as he caught Silverstar and Holly Day whispering amongst themselves. He finished up the preening of Candy's wing, and smiled when he finished. "And there we go! Say, that wasn't that hard at all." he said with a laugh. He did some mental math, and gave her a price for the preening and the mane and tail cut. "Come on back any time." he said pleasantly. To Miss LaMare, he smiled. "And now for you, Miss LaMare. Just the wing preening?" he asked, an automatic reaction. He looked over at the sheriff and chuckled, forgetting that it was on Silverstar's bill. "By the way, I don't think we've ever formally met in my time here. I'm Dapper Dan." he added with a warm smile. He knew Appleloosa wasn't big, but there was still some ponies in the town he didn't know yet, at least not having met formally. He'd said hi to a few on his way around town, and knew most ponies by sight. He'd seen Miss LaMare around but had never said hi, nor did he know what she did around town.

Roleplay Type: Crossover (Fallout: Equestria)

Name: Slip Gun (Originally named Spitshine)

Sex: Male

Age: Stallion

Species: Earth pony

Eye Color: Light brown

Coat Color: Dark earthy brown

Mane/Tail/Markings Color & Style: Orange/brown mane and tail. Mane is short cut at the top and comes down to just before the bottom of his neck. Edges are a little on the spikey side. Tail is straight and average length, with a few stray areas of unkemptness.

Physique: Average, a little on the shorter side.

Cutie Mark: Front view of an empty, six-shot revolver cylinder.

Origin/Residence: Stable 41 was where he was born, he now takes up residence wherever he can find a place to sleep.

Occupation: Mercenary. Usually ends up guarding caravans and the like.

Motivation: At some point, maybe find a way to get his memory back. Until then, Slip Gun is trying to help in any way he can, even though he often forgets who he's helping or what he's doing (due to some anterograde amnesia), and fight off evil, just like the Slip Gun of his book.

S.P.E.C.I.A.L

Strength - 6

Perception - 5

Endurance - 5

Charisma - 8

Intelligence - 8

Agility - 5

Luck - 4

Skills

Firearms - 90%

Stealth - 35%

Explosives - 25%

Lockpicking - 20%

Repair - 70%

Speech - 90% +5

Barter - 75% +5

Science - 90%

Medicine - 65%

Unarmed - 70%

Melee - 30%

Perks

- Intense Training: +1 SPECIAL attribute

- Comprehension: +1 Skill point whenever a skill book is read

- Scoundrel: +5 to Barter and Speech

- Gunslinger: +25% accuracy with small guns in S.A.T.S.

- Nerd Rage!: +50 Damage Resistance and Strength increased to 10 when low on health (20% or lower).

- Computer Whiz: Can try hacking a terminal once more after it's been locked down.

Inventory

- .44 Magnum revolver with no scope

- Iron horseshoes ("Brass Knuckles")

- PipBuck

- Saddlebag and holster for his revolver

- Black Boss-of-the-Plains style hat

- Red handkerchief tied around his neck.

Character Summary:

Slip Gun was born in a Stable He doesn't remember why he left the Stable, nor even what he did there. He just knows that's where he was born, in a Stable. He doesn't even know his real name. All of this loss of memory happened just shortly after he left his Stable.

Before we get to that, his background, most of which he doesn't know. Slip Gun was born Spitshine, in Stable 41, just east of the White Tail Woods. Stable 41 had a very odd experiment associated with it: it was innundated with entertainment provisions. Compared to most Stables it had exponentially more videos, records, books and the like to keep the Stable-dwellers docile and idle. It worked too well...most remained blank flanks for quite a long time, not finding their special talent due to being too busy watching one of the Stable's home-made television shows. Slip Gun/Spitshine was the son of one of the janitors there, and had quite the talent when it came to computers (but it wasn't his cutie mark talent). He ended up as the Stable's console repairpony, as well as fixing anything electronic that needed it. For an Earth pony, he was quite adept at it, too. And, for a pony from a Stable meant to make folks idle, Slip Gun/Spitshine was one smart cookie, usually from reading more technical and informative books than the entertainment ones everypony else read.

One day, a fire erupted in a maintenance room after the maintenance pony got distracted by a magazine. Within minutes, most of the Stable's lower level was flooded with smoke (Slip Gun doesn't remember any of this.) Slip Gun/Spitshine packed his bags and made for the Stable door with his father as the fires began to spread up to the upper levels. The fires started to set off gas lines and other such things, causing multiple explosions and quite a bit of death. In the ensuing panic, Slip Gun/Spitshine was separated from his father, stumbled, and was tramped underfoot by the mass of people escaping. Not many survived...most ponies died of smoke inhalation, and only about a dozen (and Slip Gun) survived out into the Wasteland. This trampling is the reason Slip Gun doesn't remember a lot...the repeated hooves to the head knocked something around in his head, giving him anterograde and mild retrograde amnesia, anterograde meaning he has difficulty forming new memories, while retrograde meaning he has a spotty memory of before the evacuation of the Stable.

When Slip Gun awoke, he had only his saddlebag nearby, and his jumpsuit as a reminder of where he'd come from. The saddlebag provided no answers, but it did contain what had been one of his favourite books, "The Life and Death of Slip Gun", who had been an Appleloosan vigilante. Realizing he had a similar appearance to the character as described in the book, he figured he might as well take on the persona...and from that day forward, Spitshine became Slip Gun. Using the book, he trained himself to be a silver-tongued rogue, though his skills with computers was something he retained through the amnesia.

The Slip Gun of the book was a vigilante, fighting off what he perceived to be evil ponies, skirting the edges of the law to do so. Slip Gun the Stable-dweller began doing much the same. He found his first caravan after a few hours of walking toward Manehattan, and in exchange for being a guard they let him take a weapon. Naturally, he chose the revolver, Slip Gun the Book Character's weapon of choice. After seeing the caravan safely to New Appleloosa, he began to wander, protecting who he found and killing those he (through Slip Gun the Book Character's moral compass) decided were evil. Thankfully, this usually jived with standard definitions: Raiders, slavers, etc. His cutie mark came from that decision to guard the first caravan as well: with that revolver, he found himself to be an impeccable shot. Like tin can at 75 feet without really aiming impeccable. He was excited that he finally got his cutie mark...years of sitting around doing nothing in the Stable had meant he, like many there, had been a blank flank for quite a long time. His resolve hardened by the appearance of a cutie mark as badflank as the book Slip Gun's, Slip Gun/Spitshine continued to do his vigilante thing.

Currently, Slip Gun works as a mercenary. With his anterograde amnesia making it difficult to form new memories, the simplicity of caravan guarding is nice: get up, walk, shoot bad ponies. The simplicity helps with the amnesia: some memories form, but not many. For instance, he knows his name is Slip Gun, and knows a few very basic things, like where Manehattan can be found and what some Wasteland things are. Others he forgets, which can be deadly, like what a manticore can do. The amnesia annoys him, and as a result, Slip Gun is trying to figure out some way, if he can remember it that day, to cure his amnesia, but he's not sure it's possible. He also vaguely recalls his father, unsure if he made it out of the Stable or not, which is one of the more vivid memories of his spotty pre-injury memory. Until such time as any of that happens though, Slip Gun is quite content being a vigilante for good in the lawless wasteland.

[Rog. My bad, SSF.]

"He's not a merc, just likes jokin' around. We weren't goin' to shake ya down for yer bits." Muggo' assured Blueblood. He chuckled and set his hat down respectfully on the table, shaking out his grey mane just a little.

He sat by quietly while Blueblood looked through the journal, glancing over at Fire walker and smiling a little. He looked back at Blueblood when he spoke, and set the bits down. He hadn't expected at all to get paid.

Instead he looked at Fire, then at Blueblood again in turn.

"That 'bout covers it. An' I got no theories on how a bandit got hold o' it. Crates, to my memory, hadn't been disturbed in a bit o' time. More'n a few weeks by me estimate. I rememberin' that right?" he asked his two companions.

Dapper Dan let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, happy to see that, for now, Mrs. LeMare had settled down, and hopefully there wasn't any lasting damage to their relationship.

"Here, Sheriff." he said, sweeping a towel from a small ring on the barber's chair and holding it in his hoof as he held it out for the Sheriff, draping the towel over his hoof with a sympathetic little turn of the lips that he kept hidden rather well. He definitely didn't want to get a pie thrown in his face, and could imagine it probably wasn't the most pleasant of experiences.

He turned back to his work, smiling at Louise. "Shouldn't take too much longer, Mrs. LeMare. If you'd like, there's some magazines and such to flip through while you wait...they're only a little out of date." he said with a chuckle as he got to work on Candy's other wing.

[Ha xD I thought, for a longest time, that feature sent pings to the notification system here on the forums, but then I realized it goes to the email I rarely use And gotcha. If I go on a tangent or use a word that's not immediately recognizable, I'll toss up a translation.]

Timbre Swing laughed when she 'aww'd over his mother coming to see his performance. Both his parent's had been there, actually. Still, it was kinda funny to see a famous mare like herself finding it adorable.

He smiled back at her and nodded. If his parents hadn't supported him he'd probably have ended up doing...well, something else. He had a feeling he'd have done swing eventually though...it was in his name, for one, and two, he figured that if you had a cutie mark relating to a special talent, you were going to, eventually, end up doing what you needed to do to get that mark.

He stayed quiet while she told him her story, smiling as he watched it put a spring in her step with each passing moment. He was moved a bit by her description of the performance, knowing exactly what that was like. Sure, there was singing, but there was so much more to performing, and that's why he liked what he did. He always made his performances electrifying, energetic, to get the crowd pumped up and tapping their hooves along with him.

"Performance art?" he repeated, thinking it over. "Non...well, not intentionally...I make sure my musique is catchy, 'oof-tapping to get zee audience involved...but I 'aven't s'ought of actually doing art with it." he said, not sure if he even entirely knew what she meant by it.

Rain Maker laughed at Gearly's embarrassment over her teasing. "Relax, I was kidding." she said with a giggle. She turned her attention to Night Watcher, chuckling. "That's not what I meant. Not war stories, just like, little battles. Like maybe he got that one-" she pointed a hoof at a random scar. "Fighting a manticore to save a beautiful mare or something." she joked.

"I know ponies have given it all to defend Equestria. Don't worry...I'm not taking a crack at them." she assured Night.

Rain Maker's attention was drawn then to the Destrier. She couldn't tell through the helmet, but she felt his eyes on her. She slowly turned her head to look at Ardent, looking into the eye-holes on his helmet. She was quiet for a moment, watching as he tilted his head strangely.

"What, got a crick in your neck?" she asked casually.

Has anyone really been far even as decided to use even go want to do look more like? Now that the pencil incident is over, I want to make sure it'll never happen again.

I just accidentally a pencil. Am I going to be fine?

Muggo' smirked back at Fire to show he'd just been joking around. He wasn't going to ACTUALLY hold Blueblood's journal hostage for bits. That would just be unfair. He held his tongue, and then looked at Dunder, who kept running with the joke. Laughing a little, he looked over at Blueblood.

"We're just kiddin', b'y. It belongs to ya, right an' fair." he said with a sincere smile. "An' that's where it'll stay." he added, taking a sip of wine from his own glass, though he was never a huge fan of it himself. Still, it was a drink, and he was a bit thirsty.

"I know how much a family heirloom's worth, an' ya can't count it out in bits. If that book belongs to yer family, it's yers. Can't put a price on that even if ya tried." he said. It'd be like somepony asking how much it would cost to buy the bar from Muggo'. It having been in his family's hooves since his grandfather bought it, the price would be nothing, because nopony would ever get it except his own child, whenever he had one.

Timbre Swing was busy sipping at some water when he heard hoofsteps approaching. He turned to see a rather pretty, yellow pegasus walking over with her hoof extended to shake his. He smiled and did just that, adding a bit extra (granted, maybe a bit much) by kissing just over her hoof rather politely. "Bonjour, Lucky Penny. I'm Timbre Swing, but I am sure you already know zat." he said with a chuckle. He was just on stage after all, and she'd come straight to him. "Ah? Merci! he said to her compliment. It was good to see fans every now and again, especially for such an old style of singing that wasn't used much anymore.

At her bombshell of a question though, he was actually caught off guard. A recording deal? He was so stunned he actually sat back on his haunches for a moment and tilted his fedora back to scratch at his head, just at the base of his horn.

"I...uh...I don't know." he admitted. On one hoof, he liked the independent nature of how he worked...able to go where he pleased, do as he pleased, not have anypony tell him where to play and how to play and what to play, all that. On the other, a recording deal meant bits...lots of bits. It was a tough choice, for the pony who did this because he loved music, not just because he loved bits.

"Do I 'ave time to s'ink it over?"

Wind Rider reached out with a hoof, gently placing it against Cinnamon's right shoulder. "Take a deep breath and relax." he instructed. Being in a panic wasn't going to do anypony any good. That's how brash decisions and mistakes were made in an emergency. He nodded when she asked him to fly off to get a doctor. "Stay with her." he said. He didn't know why but Wind Rider got a distinct impression, maybe just from the way the pony on the ground was built, that it was a mare, though it may just be a lankier stallion.

"If anypony comes along, see if they can help. I'll be right back." he said, running along the road even as she urged him on. Once Wind got up enough speed he flared out his wings and beat them once to kick off the ground, taking off into the air. He didn't have the time to run home and get a whistle or even his hat, so he kept low.

"Medic!" he yelled out. "We need a doctor, is anypony a doctor?" he continued to cry out to the ponies below him, hoping his voice would carry as he skimmed the rooftops of Hoofington...he also hoped that somepony with medical training was out and about, because he had no idea if the town's doctor was in, and though he was making his way there, it was a ways from the fallen pony...if he could get somepony closer, then all the better.

Miss Rain? Rain Maker giggled. "Please...Gearly, right? Rain, or Rain Maker's fine." she said with a smile. She hated when things got formal, so she didn't mind if she was simply called by Rain.

"Hmm. Not battle scars, huh? Too bad, you should totally change your story. You'd get all the fillies if you told them you got into epic battles every now and again." she joked with a laugh as the two soldiers spoke with each other.

She tuned in to listen to the speech being given by the Destrier, making more mental notes to possibly add a similar order to her story. Knights that worked for the good of the people, and for the sovereigns, but worked outside the established order. Interesting.

She kept quiet, not sure what to add, but wished she'd brought her saddlebags along, or at least one of the journals so she could write all this down. She hadn't expected to get some much inspiration.

Muggo' Ale walked over when he saw the prince walk in, and of course, only after Fire Walker walked over. He figured that if Fire Walker organized this, it was up to her to lead the way. With a respectful little bow, Muggo' swept his grey tweed bakersboy off his head. He was unsure of the proper title or greeting for somepony of Blueblood's stature, so to avoid any offence, he kept it at that. He straightened up and set the hat back on his head, keeping it tilted back a little out of respect.

He caught Dunder's look and gave an almost-imperceptible shrug with a shoulder. He didn't quite know what to think just yet. Blueblood definitely was highly formal, but then again, this WAS Canterlot, after all. However, he seemed rather...arrogant. 'Effusions of excitement at meeting me in person'? Muggo' had to fight from letting out a laugh.

Hoof over the notebook? Oh right! She'd asked him to carry it. "Aye, s'here somewhere..." he mumbled, reaching a hoof into the vest and searching through one of the large inner pockets. He gingerly pulled out the notebook, knowing it was valuable and thus being rather gentle with it. "So, what's it worth to ya?" he teased with a joking smile toward Blueblood, gently placing the notebook on the table well within hoof's reach of the stallion.

"Eesh, girl, ya sound like me father. I know I gotta respect the rich ones." Muggo' said with a chuckle. He laughed at what Dunder said. "It's the shirt, b'y." he teased with a laugh. "Just kiddin'. Looks alright on ya." he said sincerely.

"Auctions, aye?" he asked. Good thing he'd brought bits along. He could always look for something to bring bar to the bar for all of this. He tilted his head and took the card from her with a word of thanks, looking it over.

"Well, thank ya kindly, Fire!" he said sincerely, smiling. "If I get the chance to get up here from Fillydelphia, I'll be sure to stop by." he said. The place seemed rather interesting, and hopefully, like she said, a little less stuff.

"So I'm takin' bets." he said after a moment, a pause to put the card in his vest pocket. "For how long it'll take Blueblood to get here. Somethin' tells me he's gunna be pure Canterlot an' be fashionably late." he joked.

Muggo' Ale smiled at her compliment. He did have a memory for things. Not all of it he could recall off the top of his head...if somepony had asked him 'Hey, what's the story behind that air show poster in the bar?' he wouldn't be able to answer all the way. But looking at it now, the memories came back easily to him. Others, like personal family items such as the oar and his mother's Winter Wrap Up vest, he obviously knew well. "Nopony has, but thank ya." he said with a sincere smile. "It might'a been from Roam. I remember the name had to do with arrows...I think the stallion had said the name meant 'Red Arrow' in Itailian. Might just well be the same team." he said with a chuckle. He'd have to look into that. He'd ask his father, who had just as extensive a memory, but the stallion was sitting with a group of old ponies at a table, laughing raucously at a joke a unicorn there had just said.

When she answered his question as to if she had something on her mind, Muggo' nodded. It may not be too dramatic, but it was still something he noted, not wanting to make her uncomfortable with anything. "I see. Well, if it gets to ya much, don't hesitate to tell me, an' we can go get some air outside." he said sincerely, a soft but warm smile on his face. He was completely sincere...if the crowd of the bar was getting to her, he wouldn't hesitate at all to go step outside and get away from it.

He let out a soft laugh and nodded as they knocked their mugs together. "Aye." he said simply, getting off the stool and carrying the mug in a curled fetlock. He walked with rather expert precision, despite being only on three hooves, to the stairs off to the side of the room, heading down. The room had much of the same atmosphere, though it was much more open. A rust-coloured unicorn with a dark mane was setting up on the stage set along the back wall in the middle of the hall, and all around were set tables to sit and watch the performance, as well as a section dedicated to dancing, a few pool tables along the far wall, and a pair of dartboards nearby, which nopony was using at the moment. Muggo' walked over to a table near to the stage and the dance floor, smiling back at his date. There was a bit of a crowd already down here, and he knew that once the music made it's way upstairs more would appear, so he hoped it didn't put her off too much.

[Ha, figured it wasn't a huge eyeball Also are we doing post orders?]

Rain Maker nodded. She figured it would probably be best not to joke around anymore with the guards. They didn't seem the very casual, joking types after all. She looked over at Gearly and smiled, nudging him with a hoof. "No harm, no foul, right? Nopony got hurt, so no need to apologize." she said with a smile. She wasn't put off by it at all...mistakes did happen once in a while, especially when it was dark out and hard to see where you were walking. Then the other pony, the stallion in the strange armour spoke, and it caught her attention.

Ardent, the pegasus in front of her, was a Destrier? The name sounded familiar...she wracked her brain for a moment until it hit her. Those were the elite of the elite. She let out a soft gasp of admiration, her mind working on overtime to note down things like the stallion's demeanour, the style of armour he wore...all things she could use for her book. She was so distracted she only heard his voice, not the words the Destrier was saying. She came back to the present, noting that he was talking to the colt. She looked over, seeing for the first time the scars all over the young pony's body. She chuckled. "Get into a tussle?" she asked casually.

Muggo' nodded. "Less o' the terrifyin' for me." he said. He'd heard that Blueblood was a bit of a windbag, and not very...princely. But he would reserve judgement until he saw for himself. He was dressed nicely, though not overly so. His typical grey bakersboy cap was on its usual place on his head, and he wore a white shirt and brown tweed vest. It made him look presentable, in a bit of a dignified, weathered way. Nothing like the haughtiness of a suit-clad Canterlot unicorn, that's for sure.

He let her have her fun, talking about the artifact and names that meant a bit less to him than it did to her. He'd like to hear the stories of course, but for now, he didn't know too much about this 'King Kungaloosh'.

"Never met the b'y, but I heard the stories meself. I'll keep me snout shut on 'em, though, an' let him present himself before I make me judgement." Muggo' said simply, chuckling. "What about ya, Dunder?" he asked, looking around Fire Walker to look at his old friend.

"Y'ever bump into the upper class o' Canterlot?"

Muggo' had never quite imagined he'd be here, and felt a little out of place. Everything felt so formal, for a pony who was the very definition of informal. He preferred the more casual atmosphere of his bar to this kind of place. Not to mention he figured the elites of all sorts would be here...he wanted to come across as rather dignified, worthy of Canterlot. Maybe in the end he'd attract some more customers for his bar. In the meantime, he'd work on not embarrassing his travelling companions.

[Just like crossing the streams, Lux. But I live dangerously :3]

Rain Maker let out a snort of laughter at the colt's words. Of course she wasn't going to eat him...she wasn't a real monster. She smiled sincerely at his apology. "Ah, no worries, kid. It's dark out. And mostly my fault, got my head in the clouds all the time." she apologized. There was no harm done, neither of them had gotten hurt. She giggled again at Gearly's surprise from the voice of the guard, especially with the way he darted toward her for protection.

She addressed the guard after she spoke. "Fair enough. Sorry. But really...do you think a changeling would say it's a monster and invite suspicion?" she pointed out.

"My name's Rain Maker." she said to the question, smiling. Before she could add anything else or ask a question of her own, another pony joined the group, also wearing armour but of a style she'd never seen before. She tilted her head for a moment as he spoke, then smirked.

"Nah, it's only typical when I'm in town." she joked. "No, no problems. Just having a nice walk and a chat with some ponyfolk."

Wind Rider wasn't even on patrol when he heard the shout. It was from somewhere below him as he took the skies, wanting to enjoy a bit of casual flying on his day off. Still, the words "Somepony get a doctor!" hit him with clarity...but maybe that was aided by the sudden appearance of the words, physically in the sky, not too far away. He quickly jumped into gear...it was interesting to watch when that happened. One moment, Wind Rider could be his usual calm self, having a chat and seemingly no cares in the world, but the next, he was focused, collected, and ready for anything. It was almost as if he had a split personality...the calm and lazy flyer, and the fast-flying, fast-thinking rescuer.

The brown pegasus beat his wings hard to get some speed, then tucked them in and angled himself down, accelerating to ridiculous speeds given his altitude. He flared out his wings and came to earth in a fast glide, landing next to the prone figure of what appeared to be a pony at first, and the unicorn (who he rightly assumed cast the letters in the sky) knelt over it. "What happened?" he asked. His voice had a quiet tone to it, yet clearly carried the weight of some authority...he might not be in his uniform, but he was still the Ranger for the area, whether on duty or not, and he wasn't going to just ignore a cry for help.

Not that he could do much...he wasn't a doctor by any sense of the term, though he knew first aid, but he could at least provide something. A fast mover to relay messages, or get the pony out if a doctor didn't get there fast enough.

Rain Maker had left Ponyville a few days ago, destination...wherever. Her wings had taken her to Canterlot first, the city being the closest to her last location.

She'd been in her hotel that evening, but sleep was nowhere to be found for the young author. She tossed and turned in bed, but eventually just got up and stepped out into the night for a walk. Maybe the cool breeze would help clear her head. Rain Maker left her saddlebags at home, figuring she would be able to remember anything interesting if she wanted to note anything down for that evening.

The night was gorgeous. Rain Maker actually loved the night, and Luna's moon. Everything seemed so different then. She looked up at the sky and smiled, not noticing much the cold out...she was used to it, being a pegasus and all, she was used to being up high where the air was cold. She turned the corner, humming softly to herself, and as she stepped out into the street, lost in thought (which was how she never heard the hoofsteps), she ran straight into a grey pony who had been running. She let out a yelp of surprise, more from the fact she hadn't expected to see anypony else out other than the guards, and this wasn't a guard. "Ah! Oh, sorry..." she apologized, trying to extract herself from the jumble of hooves that was her and the colt. Rain Maker stood and shook her mane out to fix it up a little. "You okay?" As she got up, she heard a voice...judging by the authority, that of a guard.

"A big bad monster!" she teased with a giggle. "Just kidding. I'm out for a walk, when I accidentally ran into this colt here." she explained to the figure of the guard in that impressive looking Night Guard armour.

[Edited as I accidentally hive-minded with Lux and didn't see his post.]

Well Muggo' has left the bar in the hands of his father and second-in-command many times, so I've got all that covered ^^

I'd still love to be in on this, and I'm loving the idea. Dunder, think you could find a way to drag Muggo' along? Maybe have Dunder invite him after their last adventure to the Griffon lands?

"I'm tryin', Caramel." Muggo' said with a laugh. He sipped at his drink, smiling happily. "Aye. Family's important. Ya can never forget where ya come from." he said with a smile. It's why he had made the trip to Ponyville a few months before, and why so many heirlooms hung in the bar. It was why he occasionally went to Hoofington with his father, to see the old haunts his father used to frequent.

When asked about the poster, he looked over at it. "Ah. Those are the...t'underin', it was some Itailian name...anyways, they were an Itailian air display group. A few years ago, one o' the older members stopped by for a drink. We, me an' him, talked for a while 'bout the shows, as I'd always loved air shows. Came back in a few times, an' eventually, before he went back to Itaily, left us with the poster, signed by him. So we hung it up there." he explained with a smile. He had liked that old guy, watching the spark in his eyes when he talked about the good old times flying in the team.

After he was done with his story, however, he noticed for the first time that Caramel Apple seemed...distant. Not distant as in she was ignoring him or paying attention to something, or somepony, else, but...possibly uncomfortable. "Ya got somethin' on yer mind, Caramel?" he asked, setting his mug on the table. Let it never be said that Muggo' wasn't considerate or a gentlecolt...if she was uncomfortable about something, he would try his hardest to make sure she was feeling better.