Bannhammer

I have one character in the REA, Ace High Unfortunately, his application was completely deleted for some unknown reason, I'm trying to see if I can get an archived version restored, otherwise I'll rewrite it.

Martel smiled awkwardly, still uncomfortable with being doted on. He opened his mouth to try and argue the point again, but quickly relented. Despite his own feelings, it would be rude to refuse such a kind offer from the mare. As he read her note, he sighed in defeat. The offer was just too good, and how could he even think of refusing Rivet? Whether or not she knew it, this mare had a gift when it came to make cute faces. He watched quietly as she made the sheets and folded some clothes up, taking an inquisitive glance at the system of pipes and tubes on the walls and ceiling. Eventually she seemed to remember his presence and typed up a note to fill him in on some more details. Martel gulped audibly upon reading about the potential for explosions, and she seemed to catch on, giggling slightly. Another blush formed on his cheeks, and the stallion cleared his throat. “No questions, Nein. But... do not be afraid to wake me if you are needing any help. I might not know machines, but I know heavy lifting.”

Martel smiled weakly as Rivet went over the schematics again. He had no problem with the time frame, considering the sheer awesomeness of what would be the end product. The stallion’s smile warmed up as she addressed his question. “Ja, gold sounds very good, Frau Rivet. I think it would be looking nice, do not want to lack style when I am doing job!” He then paused as she offered him a place to stay while she worked. “Oh, well, uh... sure? I would be happy to be staying here while you work. I can be helping you run light house? Otherwise I would not wish to be a big burden on you, Frau.”

Martel blinked, tail slinking towards his hammer. The mare seemed to have spaced out, rather badly in fact. While most ponies saw fit to write on paper, it would appear that Rivet had transcended the need for pulp based writing materials and was scratching things into the floor. Odd, to say the least. Probably a little unsettling too. She seemed to come around, offering an apologetic look to Martel, who simply smiled and nodded his head. He didn’t want her to feel bad about being passionate. The mercenary had a tendency to get lost in thought sometimes, though it never involved engineering. He did admire the small mare for her determination, even if she may get a little... odd, while in the process of creating. Eventually she passed him some of her sketches, and he looked them over with an appreciative gaze. Some of them bordered on ludicrous, like the giant, hammer swinging machine. Despite it’s outlandishness, and overall lack of use, he admired the approach. Part of him was glad to have come to her, such originality could lead to truly great things for the pair of them. Martel felt a presence over his shoulder, and he flinched slightly, again drawing his hammer towards himself. A mere moment later he calmed himself, blushing madly. “S-sorry, Frau... I am not used to ponies being so... close.” Once he had calmed down, he started to look more closely at the designs she pointed out. The one shaped like a J seemed interesting, though he wondered how it would stand up to any vigorous activities. Her words immediately answered his question, and Martel nodded in understanding. He liked the idea, especially with the light weight and rubberized bottom. It would certainly make it easier for him to travel around, and even with the change in gait, he would stand out less. Most ponies didn’t like his metal hoof smashing their tiles or scraping their wooden floors. ”Wunderbar! If that can be done in 12 hours, then let it be so... I do not mind learning to walk again, I have already done it twice!” he joked, tone of voice faltering slightly, as if he didn’t know why he was joking about such a thing. His eyes widened considerably upon seeing the next design. A pile of metal... with what? He couldn’t tell. Martel had built his first brace, but he didn’t know nearly enough about metalworking to know what was going on. Again she approached he shoulder, and Martel could barely contain another flinch. Quickly, his focus shifted from her movements to her typed words. He scanned her sentences, seemingly growing more and more enthralled with every line. What she proposed seemed so... amazing! Surely this was another fanciful design, this could /never/ be built! ”Frau... Mein Gott..2 weeks for /that/?” Unfortunately, his incredulous tone came across as disappointed. That misunderstanding would eventually be cleared up with his next sentence, following a few tense moments later. ”It would be a miracle! You can actually be building all of that? I... I...” Again he lost his words, eyes wide as he looked around the room with his mouth open. Eventually he faced her, with a very serious look on his eye. Whatever he was going to say next would obviously be of vital importanace. ”Can it be painted Purple?”

Martel took a deep breath, inhaling the vapor of his tea. The scent and warmth made him feel a bit better, and along with the blankets and couch he felt as comfy as he ever had before. This mare had gone out of her way to make him comfortable, and her willingness to help him would not go unrewarded. He already knew what he wanted from her in terms of craftsmareship, and he had no doubts that she was capable. The only concern he had would be whether or not he could have it all done soon enough for him to move on within the next few days. She seemed to be pondering his words, and he took the moment of silence to look her over. Rivet was certainly cute, and her mannerisms made it that much more obvious. The mare seemed capable, and as she typed out her note, he took another sip. Again she made it clear that she would help him, and he nodded in relief. Thank the gods he found a pony willing to assist him on such short notice, there was no way he could’ve afforded to wait any longer. He opened his mouth to speak, but she quickly held up her hoof. Martel smiled at her and took the moment to again sip his tea. When she returned, he was finally able to make his suggestions and requirements made known. She was a technical mare, and hopefully she would understand his words. While he had built his braces, he had no formal engineering knowledge, and his ideas might be a tiny bit difficult to translate. “Danke, Frau. I am needed something strong, /very/ strong. My old brace, as you’ve seen, was crude. A hunk of steel, some springs, and something soft to prevent chafing and blisters where it attaches to my leg. The brace needs to be heavy enough to balance me out when i am using my hammer. I would like, if you are able, to have a lighter one as well. Perhaps with some sort of lighter metal, for use indoors or when I’m not fighting. I hate to dent floors and scratch tiles when I am not on the job.”

The sofa sagged under his weight, but it did of good job of holding him up. Thankfully, Martel seemed just below the recommended weight limit. His laughing didn’t help, the bellow causing him to shake and roll his large frame. But he couldn’t help it, the mare’s laughs and snorts simply adding fuel to the giggling fire. It had been a good long time since he had laughed honestly and earnestly. Too many times he had to offer a wry chuckle, or toss out a half hearted guffaw. Rarely in his line of work was there time to have a nice, simple, laugh. Eventually, the pair of them simmered down. Martel returned his attention to the steaming tea, and he took another sip. He watched with curious eyes as she pondered his question. Once the paper floated into view, he nodded slowly. Very good questions... ”Ever since I built this brace, ponies have been telling me to get it replaced. Something professionally made, they said. I did not want to spend bits on something I could be making myself, of course, so i refused. Now... I do not have a choice.” He took another sip, closing his eyes as he enjoyed the tea. ”I heard many names, the best and brightest engineers and tinkerers in Equestria, Stalliongrad, and Germaney. I got your name from a pony here, she recommended the mare ‘who is locking herself in lighthouse’.” The large stallion laughed loudly, placing the tea cup down on the nearest surface. ”So I am here! In lighthouse with tiny genius! I am sure nopony even knows what part of the world I am in!.” Martel grinned, shaking his head slowly. While he had his doubts and suspicions, meeting Rivet in person dispelled any images of a shut in tinkerer. ”I could have gone to any of the others, but you fit my criteria. Neither of us have heard of eachother. We have no history, no past, and there is no chance that either of us have earned the other’s ire. A tinkerer or blacksmith who is famous has been visited by a Von Starkhuf at one point or another. You don’t know who I am, and I am not knowing you. That is how I prefer things. Last time I went to a big name pony for something, they were quick to sell my location to a high bidder because they knew a Von Starkhuf fetched a high price....” Again he sipped, though the smile faded for a moment. He used his tail to pull his large hammer towards himself protectively. ”There are ponies who are not liking me so much. If they knew that I was in no position to fight back, and they knew where I was...” Martel softened his smile, offering a warm grin to the tiny mare. He had to be fair about all this. If his words had frightened the mare in any way, or had led her to feel unsafe, he had a responsibility to take notice. ” I have been taking great care to get here in secret. I used the storm to hide me, among other things. I would never want to lead trouble to your door, Frau Rivet. You may turn me out, if you think I was not thorough enough. If you think there is even the slightest threat to yourself, I will leave.”

Martel sniffed, the cold and wetness combining to give him a rather queasy feeling. He watched with baited breath as the mare looked him over, with a few blinks he noticed her blush. The mercenary smiled warmly, doing his best to try and present a non-threatening image and keep things calm. The last thing he wanted was the only pony capable of helping him find a reason not to. Another note floated in front of the purple pony, and he read it quickly. Apparently she found it within herself to be even kinder to him. Nodding gratefully, he accepted her offer. He struggled to his hooves, swatting at the magic that helped him. Such things embarrassed him. ”Please, no magic...” he grunted. On the way, he marveled at the sheer amount of machinery surrounding him. How a pony could live in such a small space astounded him. Pipes everywhere, piles of junk scattered about, it all seemed unreal. He simply tried his best to trot on three hooves, leaning so as to try and keep his balance. Martel moved slowly, almost at a snail’s pace, but he eventually made it, collapsing upon the offered couch. It was barely big enough to fit him, the end of his good hind leg dangling slightly over the edge. He had no complaints though, especially not when she was being so kind. The stallion nodded at her note, grateful for her generosity in this respect. Already he felt warmer, more invigorated. Martel wanted to say something, some sort of thanks, but he had barely any time to think before pillows, blankets, and even tea appeared before him! ”Danke, Frau Rivet, you are a very kind soul.” Martel sipped the hot tea, and let out a contented sigh, his large frame sagging as he relaxed. He read her note, chuckling softly to himself before taking another sip. ”Oh? I was thinking this was bed and breakfast, not workshop!” he joked, letting out a deep, warm bellow from deep within his gut. He was in a hurry to have his brace fixed, but he felt himself fascinated with this mare, and didn’t wish to be rude to her. No, he would take his time, and they would do business at her pace. ”If you wish to ask me questions, I believe I am owing you answers.”

Martel watched, perplexed, as the silent mare continued to look him over. Would she help him? Did she even speak Equestrian? "Ah... Verstehen Sie?" Instead of responding, or even acknowledging his words, the mare went to his hind leg. He flinched, instinctively trying to protect his deformed limb. His reaction worsened even more as magic surrounded his leg. Martel gave a weak protest, but became far more occupied with keeping his balance. As she removed the steel hoof, Rivet would notice that in place of a healthy hind leg, there was a deformed stump. With the weight lifted from his leg, the stallion quickly toppled over, shouting in surprise and embarrassment. He must appear so weak and helpless! The idea pained him. Despite her good intentions, he couldn’t help but feel that coming here was a mistake. When Rivet pulled out a toolbox, he tried to see what she was doing, but he couldn’t see much from his position on the floor. Eventually she returned, and it almost seemed like she was reaching out to her side, into empty air. ”Sie ist verrückt? A momentary panic overtook the stallion as he realized that he lay helpless on the floor of a remote building at the mercy of a possibly insane mare.Those fears didn’t last long, as she lifted a hoof as if to say ‘hold on a moment’. ”Ich werde hier bleiben...” he muttered, half joking. Rivet returned quickly, with some strange device accompanying her. Again Martel opened his mouth to speak, but the typewriter sprung to life, and he silenced himself. When she finished, the mercenary sighed happily, offering the best smile he could muster under the circumstances. ”I am Martel Von Starkhuf.... I am dry, I am alive, I need nothing else. Danke.” He tried his best not to complain, already feeling weak enough sans brace without complaining about being on the floor. Sure he was a bit cold, and still fairly wet... But this mare had already been kind enough, and he didn’t feel like asking for anything more than a fixed brace. ”I am needing brace fixed, Ja. If you are wanting to make it better, I have many bits. Enough to pay for anything you can think of. I only ask that you have it done within 3 days.”

The herbs bothered her. Well, of course they did. Vinyl seemed to be the only pony who never grimaced at their stench or made a face when he spoke. Sure, it wasn't the most pleasant sight, Ace knew that. He had orders to take this medicine, and by Celestia, he was going to take it. [colour=#000080]"Look, if this stuff bothers you, I can, uh... I don't know. Doc says I'm never supposed to stop chewing the stuff, except when I'm sleeping, of course."[/colour] The stallion shrugged helplessly, unable to offer any more on the subject. Instead he chose to let her continue, and continue she did. He already sensed her athleticism, and Acclaim's comment about signing for a hoofball resonated with him. [colour=#000080]"Eh, United has enough strikers. Now Hoofington City? You could've helped them out a bit. Couldn't score to save their flanks."[/colour] He took a guess with the striker comment. The Pegasus mare radiated with confidence, and she seemed like the type to take a game over and score when the match was on the line. Things seemed to be improving, despite her discomfort with his medicine. She even seemed to understand his aversion to alcohol. Even better, she seemed interested in his routine. If anything could calm Ace down, it was talking about stunt flying. [colour=#000080]"Not the type? Do I look like a gryphon or something? In my prime, I could out maneuver a lightning boot and fly rings around hurricanes! Nowadays, it's all about speed. Some kid flies towards the ground in a straight line, picks up speed, and then pulls up. Not easy, but it ain't no Canterlot Bunt or cobra maneuver."[/colour] As he spoke, Ace ceased his chewing, apparently swallowing a bit of the gunk. Without a wad of herbs in his mouth, his words came out clearer and the stench dissipated. His enthusiasm seemed to reinvigorate him, a far contrast from the surly and combative stallion from earlier. Ace didn't sense the change, as this is how he usually felt out on patrol or with his men. [colour=#000080]"My routine had most of the basics: turns, banks, spins, loops, all that stuff. But I knew that if I wanted to make the Wonderbolts, I needed something special. When push came to shove, I decided to take a risk. I had to warn the crew beforehoof that I was going to intentionally stall and plummet out of control. Still don't know that name of that dang move, but that's what I went with."[/colour] [colour=#000080]"Of course, it's a risky move for two reasons. Pull up too early and the judges won't be impressed. If you don't pull up in time, your score won't be the biggest concern. And then you have the fact that the crew expects you to pull up, so they won't be diving down to save you! Let me tell you, I should've put that at the beginning of my routine, because after exhausting yourself in the first few minutes, pulling out of a couple thousand foot plummet is not easy!"[/colour] Ace sported a goofy grin, leaning back a tiny bit and taking a gulp of water. [colour=#000080]"I spent my day with the 'bolts, reserved my place at the academy. Heck, they practically gave me a blank check! And that chump on the Wonderbolts now, Soarin? He's got the paychecks, and he's got the fame. But he ain't got one of these. And I wouldn't trade places for the world."[/colour] Ace tapped the pin on his lapel, above his tarnished silver star. He looked towards Acclaim, smiling honestly. He didn't even seem to notice that he'd gone a few minutes without chewing.

He barely managed to gulp, a nervous shake rolling down his spine which culminated in an anxious swipe of his tail. Ace knew he was lucky. She could have easily dragged him to the nearest officer and shoved a disorderly conduct charge down his throat. Somehow, she accepted his apology, and his excuse too. Only somepony blind would have missed the herbs, and Ace always tried to chew them as subtly as possible. Unfortunately, after that little outburst, he found himself with a bit more herbs in his mouth than could be considered polite. [colour=#000080]"If I get like that again, just put me in a sleeper hold. You'll get some peace, and I'll finally catch some rest!"[/colour] he joked, chuckling dryly. Why did he keep pretending like sleep was the issue? He knew it wasn't. It certainly wasn't easy to joke about, but he had to find a way to keep their interaction moving. The last thing he wanted was to create a hostile pony who had orders to follow him around. He used his wing to lift a glass of tonic to his lips, the bitterness of the drink lost in the swamp of medicine already there. She mentioned a town he'd never seen, and something he'd never sampled. Boy, if they didn't find something in common, this could be a lot harder than he first thought. [colour=#000080]"Wouldn't know about that, unfortunately. Never been to Ponyville, and the closest thing to cider I've ever had is Apple Juice. And don't even get me started on Vodka. With everything I hear about it, I'm either missing out, or making a great life decision."[/colour] Ace chuckled again, forcing another gulp of tonic down his throat. [colour=#000080]"I didn't drink in flight school, and I thought it would be a bad move once I joined up. Never had a drop in my life. Alcohol dumbs the senses and gets a pony in trouble. Don't need a chemical keeping me on a leash."[/colour] The sad, sad irony of the comment escaped him completely as he shoved yet another wad of herbs past his teeth. His blue hoof, stained dark green from years of handling the stuff, set the pouch back into his saddlebags. Sensing that something was wrong, he tried quickly to change the subject. [colour=#000080]"Almost had champagne after winning the best young flier's competition, but I wanted to remember the rest of the day."[/colour] A hint of happiness hid within his tone; recalling a happy memory within a ragged tapestry.

[colour=#000080]"III Order? Didn't think homegrown gave a hoot about ol' Re-uh grunts."[/colour] He couldn't resist a small chuckle, reaching out to grab the offered hoof. Ace shook it hard, with a tight grip. With a tiny sigh, he released her hoof. The soldier couldn't resist giving Acclaim a once over. Lunar guard, obviously. Being around Vinyl and the club scene gave him a rather nice insight into the magical world of body piercings, and he noted that this mare probably sported quite a set when she was off duty. She radiated confidence, and for a moment Ace wished that he could bottle it up for rainy days. Though he'd need a lot, considering how few sunny days he seemed to get. The smile on his lips soon faded, and the chuckled died in the back of his throat. Ace remembered exactly why this mare was here, and why she was supposed to follow him around. He opened his mouth to speak, but paused. A scowl had formed on his lips, and he tried once more to speak. The blue pegasus clamped his mouth shut, and seemed to struggle with something. Instead, Ace reached into his saddlebag, grabbing another hoof full of green, putrid, herbs. After stuffing them into his mouth, he finally got around to speaking. [colour=#000080]"Listen, orders are orders, and you got stuck with me for some dumb 'help the crazy pony' experiment. You can take your orders and shove them up your rump, because I didn't choose to come to this dumb ball, and I sure as heck didn't choose to get shipped off from my men!"[/colour] Ace took a deep breath, eyes screwed shut as he looked to the side, teeth gritted in anger. Without a word he stuffed some more herbs into his mouth, practically forcing himself to calm down by any means necessary. It didn't take a word on Sergeant Acclaim's part to get him going, it seemed. Quickly, the anger subsided, to be replaced by guilt. He never reacted in such a way around his men, and yet two minutes in to a conversation and he's about ready to blow a gasket? The stallion simply shook his head, silently adjusting his lapels before looking back towards the mare. [colour=#000080]"Apologies, seems I... uh... didn't get much sleep on the ride here."[/colour]

Why was he here? While such a question might seem deeply philosophical on the surface, to Ace it meant something far more literal. Why was he here at the REA event party thing? How did a sergeant patroling the mountains get invited to this ritzy event? Probably another scheme by one of the higher ups to get him to 'loosen up'. He had skipped the mingling, choosing instead to sip tonic by himself at one of the many areas where one could acquire drink. Nopony here seemed like a pony worth mingling with, and so he simply didn't bother. The pony assigned to 'help him get acclimated' would be the first he'd speak to all day. Ace wore his usual frown, though he struggled to maintain the expression while chewing on some herbs. After a few years, the act of chewing the stuff became second nature. Some ponies liked to joke that he was addicted to the stuff. Of course, if he was addicted, he'd go into withdrawal or something whenever he wasn't chewing for five minutes. Then again, that hasn't happened yet. He wore a nicely pressed and well maintained uniform, his wings shuffling about as he entered the foyer. The dark blue pegasus sported a few medals, mostly citations for conduct and good attitude. A silver star dangled over his heart, the thing tarnished and not well maintained, like the rest of his dress uniform. Saddlebags rested on his back, the olive drab sacks seemingly empty, though they probably carried the beret he wasn't wearing. A white mane certainly stuck out, though upon closer examination it was obviously dyed. One thing that stuck out about his appearance sat upon his lapel. It was a small, golden wing. To most, it would mix right in with the other adornments and pins. Ask any soldier, and they'd tell you that a pin like that certainly wasn't issued by the REA. Another quick glance around, and he reached into his saddlebag to pull out a small pouch. Out came a hoof full of some foul smelling herbs, and soon he was back to chewing. [colour=#000080]"Come on, Ace, just tell them you're fine, and you just want to sit by yourself and drink water for the whole evening."[/colour] he muttered to himself, ready to grab another hoof full of herbs before a mare appeared behind him. [colour=#DAA520]“Ace High I presume?”[/colour] The blue pegasus blinked, wings jerking back and eyes widening a bit before he calmed himself down. After a deep breath, he offered as good a salute that he could muster under the circumstances. [colour=#000080]"Sergeant Ace High, 3rd brigade, 44th Tactical Aviators Regiment. Reporting for foalsitting operation."[/colour] His tone didn't seem enthused nor amused.

This still going on? Kinda late to the party, but would love to jump in.

Max felt a small smile creep onto his features. While some may see his actions as tame, to him they were quite bold, and perhaps even intimate. To be honest, Maximilian didn't quite know what possessed him to do it, but in a small way, he had an idea. She had been so nice to him, giving him chances while none else would. To him, this mocha mare had done more for him than anypony else. How could he show it; how could he show her just how much she meant to him? With a timid voice, Max spoke up. [colour=#0014a8]"Perhaps... perhaps we could take a break? There's... something I'd wish to say."[/colour] The rich stallion's gut twisted in knots as he motioned back towards their coffee. He knew that she cared, it was plain to see. Caramel found success in her own right, she surely wasn't attempting to take advantage of him. Her kind manner alone drew a sharp elation from his heart, and the Rockefilly knew that something had to be said, lest the opportunity slip by. [colour=#00a4a8]"Caramel. We've known eachother for these last few months, both of us doing what we can for this town. You've shown me more kindness than I've ever known, and far more than I deserve. Even now, you show me just how kind a pony you are, treating me so delicately, so full of compassion. I don't really know how to say it, but you give me chills down my spine and butterflies in my gut. I'm a pony who could have everything he ever wanted, but all I could ever want right now is just to spend mere moments with you."[/colour] He cleared his throat, blush obvious on his face as he tried to find the right words. What if he had misjudged things? What if he said the wrong thing and she never wished to see him again? Even though they'd known eachother for months, it was their first date, was he going too fast? The poor stallion had no clue how one normally did this. All he knew was how he felt. Oh, Celestia, he'd gone too far to back down, and now he had to face the consequences. After a deep breath, the white unicorn lifted his head and gazed into the mocha mare's eyes. He gulped loudly, obviously having some trouble saying what was on his mind. Such emotion was uncouth and foreign to him, his father's teachings keeping the words he so desperately wanted to say locked away. With a deep breath Maximilian closed his eyes, and forced his words to tumble haphazardly out of his mouth and into the Appleoosan air. [colour=#0014a8]"I... I think I'm in love with you."[/colour] Again he froze up, stiffening in realization. Again he wanted to bolt for the door, afraid that he'd laid bare too much. But instead he looked at Caramel, and felt more calm than ever before. No matter what she said, or how she responded, he would face it.

Ace sighed and for the tenth time that minute fidgeted with his collar. He'd been pulled from Foreward Observation post Indigo out west to come do some flyovers. A few soldiers in need of R&R team up for a week or two and fly for civilians. Hoofball games, races, political stuff, there was always an excuse to have a few REA ponies fly over in formation. Of course, Ace did his job without complaining. As a soldier, it was his job to follow orders, and to work as a team. What was best for the individual was not always best for the group. Without thinking he reached into one of the pockets on his uniform for some of his herbs. He needed them less and less, thanks to Vinyl, but he still hadn't broken the habit yet. There were still some jitters in his system that lingered. Still, as long as he had his herbs Ace High was a relatively calm pony. He looked to his sides, the third flyover in 3 days, and again half of the team was drunk. It seemed that instead of getting their ordered rest and relaxation through actually resting and relaxing, most of the ponies decided that a few drinks and late nights would lift their spirits. Ace just shook his head slowly. Wait until their C.Os chew them out, maybe then they'll remember responsibility. A small pegasus with a clip board poked through the floor of clouds, giving them a quick heads up. Four minutes to take off, and 6 minutes to crowd. Nopony seemed to pay her much mind, if there was anything an REA soldier could do, it was fly in formation. Celestia knows that after a few months of P.T and basic, formation was second nature. Heck, Ace could probably keep a steady flight while sleeping. The ponies out there, in the crowd, none would recognize him, except for a rare pony who was a passionate fan of flying. He was basically a prodigy back at flying academy, the big stallion on campus. It wasn't a matter of if he would be a wonderbolt, it was how long until he was captain. He stunned the world at the best young fliers competition for basicallly inventing a move, the controlled plummet, more commonly referred to as the falling leaf. He climbed up high, stalled out, and fell for about a mile, twisting and tumbling in the air, before regaining balance right above the ground. Needless to say, he was the one with the golden laurels at the end of the day. Ace sighed loudly. That was a long time ago. He rubbed his temple with a hoof, sighing frustratedly as he tried to forget the past. To think, the day he was supposed to show up to Wonderbolt training camp, he enlisted. With a shake of his head, the dark blue pegasus forced himself to focus. "No regrets..." he muttered to himself, taking one final stretch. Right before take off, he reached into his saddlebags and pulled out his golden laurels, grinning wide as he affixed the ensemble to his head. The head dress, along with the patch stitched to his uniform, would at least make himself known to anypony out there who knew what to look for. Although to be honest, most ponies in the crowd were there for the REA's follow up act, the wonderbolts. A bunch of jerks who fly around and do loops for money. They were the worst kind of celebrities. So much talent, and yet instead of doing something for the country they decided to sit back and be fawned over. Ace spat to on the cloud below him, wiping his muzzle while the order to take off was given. Of course, the highest ranked pony took point, and Ace's laurels glimmered in the sunlight as his uniform fluttered in the wind. They didn't fly for long until the crowd appeared below. There were a few cheers, not many, and Ace simply shrugged it off. As he expected, the noise grew immense as the showponies appeared behind them. He scowled and pulled a quick 180, a move that would've been impressive had anypony seen it. With a rare scowl he watched the Wonderbolts. They were supposed to do a simple flyover, no tricks, no nonsense. What happened was far, far different. They were trailing smoke, doing corkscrews and barrel rolls, and even a few loops. Normally Ace wouldn't be upset by this sort of stuff, but the fact that they were given a simple task to do, and they decided to ham it up, it was infuriating. To think he was almost one of them! There was no impulse in his reaction, it was cold and calculated. With a powerful flap, his wings pushed him towards the wonderbolts at racing speeds. He buzzed the leader, whizzing past them before doing a tight barrel roll aroud another one. It wasn't long before he had the lot of them disoriented and struggling to stay up. With a triumphant cheer, he stalled into a falling leaf, pulling up right above the crowd. [colour=#696969]"Ladies and Gentlecolts, if you want to meet real heroes, stop on by your local REA veterans chapter." [/colour]with a quick salute he sped off, probably to get reprimanded, but ****, it was worth it. When he landed, he got a few pats on the back and was offered a drink. Of course, he said yes, and started to head down to the local pup for a cold glass of water, tearing down a Wonderbolts poster as he went. Hopefully he could lay low for the rest of the day.

(It's all good, medical reasons are the most valid ones, hope you're feeling better ) Max nodded at her words, glad to take a small break for more of Madame Bistro's divine coffee. With a tentative sip he observed the mare. She was beautiful, that couldn't be denied, but there was something else. Madame Bistro was the first pony to give him a chance in Appleoosa. She probably knew the most about him, and yet she was willing to help him out. And... who knows, maybe she felt something for him. Maximilian looked down at the coffee, staring at his reflection for a moment. He wanted to be a new stallion, some pony he could be proud of. If he was going to change his business ways, why not change other things as well? With a few small, slow steps, the Rockefilly approached Caramel. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. Even her slight touch had put him on edge earlier, but what if he was the one to lead? There was a waver in his leg as he slowly reached out, brushing Caramel's shoulder before gently running a hoof through her mane. [colour=#0014a8]"Thank you, for everything."[/colour]

The cover of the forest was close at hoof, and Sucre Bleu could almost feel the safe and secure trees around her. A few flashes of light burst, illuminating the sky and everything below, as Sucre took a moment to cower in fear. The pouring rain, gusting wind, and rolling thunder more than covering up the wounded mare's scream. The darkness of the storm also providing ample cover for Paradise Nut to plummet towards the ground unseen. In fact, Sucre only knew that somepony was falling when they finally decided to reach earth. Of course, something was there to break the fall. -CRASH- Sucre twisted awkwardly as something slammed into her cart, the shock of impact twisting the reins and bringing a quite surprised squeal from the chef. Instinctively, she broke into a gallop, ignoring the searing pain in her shoulders as she tried to merely get out of the open. She didn't stop to inspect what had hit her, what else could it be than an errant bolt of lightning!? Thank Celestia she wasn't hurt... but her **** griddle must have been a prime target for that arc of lightning. If only she didn't need a huge piece of metal in order to make her blasted crepes! Finally, she came to a stop, fully under the cover of the forest canopy. Sure, the rain still got through, but now her and her cart weren't the best destination for a destructive bolt of energy. Now to inspect the damage. With a little bit of hesitance, she unhitched herself from the cart and turned around to take a look. Well, the cart was ruined, the wood on the outside was practically gone, leaving her griddle and a few errant cabinets as the only remains, oh, and there was a mare laying on top of it all, unconscious. [colour=88dddd][colour=#88dddd]Wait...[/colour][/colour] She blinked a few times, unsure of what she was seeing. After a few more blinks, she finally felt confident enough to say: [colour=#88dddd]"QU'EST-CE QUE C'EST?!"[/colour] Sucre quickly stepped forward, there were some nasty burn marks on the poor mare's back, and she was out cold. Of course, Sucre was more worried about her cart, but if this pony was really this injured, she had an obligation to help her! As Sucre secured the mare to the cart with a bit of cord from her cart, she shouted through grimaced teeth as to why she had to help this mare. [colour=88dddd][colour=#88dddd]"Tu me dois!"[/colour][/colour] Well, Sucre was heading for ponyville anyway, now she had a passenger aboard. If Paradise were to awake in the next couple of hours, she'd find herself face down, strapped to a griddle and being dragged along on a cart towards Celestia knows where, with a very angry mare pulling her along and shouting very rude things out at the sky. Of course, time went by, and Sucre trudged on, before eventually reaching her destination, Ponyville. The ponies there were very hospitable for all 2 minutes that Sucre could stay on her hooves. Paradise was given a hospital bed, while Sucre had to sit next to her on a chair because she wasn't /injured/ enough to warrant a bed. Sucre would've fallen asleep, if not for the constant worry that this pony wouldn't make it, and therefore not be able to pay for repairs to Sucre's cart, thereby ruining her life and destroying her dreams for all eternity. Needless to say, she didn't get much sleep that night. This mare was in some deep trouble when she woke up. [colour=88dddd][colour=#88dddd]"Tu me dois..."[/colour][/colour]

Loud rumblings in the distance, a sure sign that this wasn't just going to be a light drizzle. A few bright flashes erupted over head, and the light blue mare put a little extra pep into her step, realizing that being in an open field during a lightning storm wasn't the best possible situation. Rain soaked into her pelt, to the point that whatever water managed to hit her simply cascaded down her form, her pelt too soaked to absorb any more. Her soaked mane stuck to her face, and the stumbling, bumbling mare nearly fell over every few steps trying to get her hair out of her eyes. As the downpour continued, Sucre's annoyance turned to worry. What would happen to her cart if she was stuck out here? The full weight of the situation finally dawned on the mare, and she decided to get the buck out of there. Sucre kept her head down, pulling her cart like she'd never pulled it before. Every crash of thunder and bolt of lightning pulling a few fresh prayers from the mare. Maybe a few words were skipped in the half-shouted, rushed, stream of words, but Celestia would get the point, hopefuly. [colour=#88dddd]"Celestia Nobile... Notre Mere, Priez pour nous, pauvres pécheurs, maintenant et à l'heure de notre mort. Amen!"[/colour] This was repeated a few times (although a few expletives found their way worked in when a bolt of lighting got a little too close) and finally she fell silent as a row of trees came into view. Her prayers had been answered! Once Sucre got far enough into the woods, she could find a nice spot to lay down and wait out this dreadful storm. Only a hundred yards or so, and she'd be in the clear! And she wasn't struck by lightning or anything!.

Great. A storm. Just what Sucre Bleu needed. Here she was, trying to drag her cart to Ponyville, and now the sky was about to open up on her! Of all the blasted luck, darn those stupid weather ponies! The light blue mare continued to grumble and mumble to herself as she pulled her crepe-cooking stand behind her. Hopefully she could grab a room for the night, ride the storm out, and sell some crepes in the morning. If not, it might be a little bit of a struggle getting through the month. A few weeks of slow sales and the chef from Trottingham couldn't really afford to let the storm slow her down at all. Unfortunately, the rain started to fall down, slowly at first but eventually turning into a downpour that sent a shiver down the Unicorn. If she had a jacket to wear, now would be about the time that she would put it on. Unfortunately, a pony living on a thin budget didn't really have the means to afford luxuries such as a jacket while trying to pay upkeep on a cart and buy fresh ingredients for her crepes. Sucre grit her teeth and just trudged on, intent on getting to Ponyville. [colour=#88dddd]"Hopefully things don't get worse..."[/colour]

[sorry about the long delay, lots of exams and volunteering for election season] The socialite kept his step with her increase in pace. The mare responded well to his little speech, and it calmed him a little. The whole ordeal still seemed a little awkward, but at least Max could take solace in the fact that Madame Bistro wouldn't be too hard on him. [colour=#0014a8]"Why thank you for the vote of confidence, I'll take any I can get these days. And I would be honored to pick the next dance, would a Bolero be fine, seeing as how we're picking up the pace?"[/colour]

Maximilian felt a little uncomfortable, being spoken about in such a way. Even so, everything Madame Bistro said was true, and the only way Max would get used to it was if he simply accepted it. [colour=#0014a8]"None of this is your fault, if I wasn't such an awkward pony, none of this would even be a problem. Thank Celestia my father isn't around to see me like this, who knows what he'd have to say about it."[/colour] The Rockefilly continued to dance, trying his best to lead the dance while troubling thoughts weighed on his mind. He subconsciously picked up the pace, hoping to change the subject through actions rather than words.

Martel remained unimpressed. The crew he had been hired to join had been touted as 'fearsome' and maybe even one of the best crews ever formed, but all the Germane could see was a bunch of misfits who would do more damage to themselves than anypony else if a fight actually did break out. He was barely able to hold back a sigh when the medic showed up. The purple stallion knew from past experience that he would definitely be needed the doc's services quite often, you didn't spend your career as a scrapper without picking up a few scratches and bruises. This pony's accent was a lot thicker than Martel's. [colour=#800000]"Herr Doktor, what part of Germaney are you from? I hail from Saxoneigh, you sound like you are from Bamareia...."[/colour] He gave the medical pony a customary greeting via a hard slap on the back. [colour=#800000]"We will be getting to know eachother very soon, Doktor."[/colour] The large stallion remembered the zebra's comment from earlier, and he knew that he had to address it. [colour=#800000]"Herr Zebra, training will be on a few things. First, I will teach you to defend, how to stand your ground, especially on a airship, where ground is not always steady. Then, once you know how to hold your own, I will teach you how to attack, how to defeat your opponents. Finally, I will teach you how to fight together. Is that sounding good to you all?"[/colour]

Maximilian got into the dance, his hooves moving quickly, trying to get used to the quick pace. It was a much different dance that anything he was used to, especially when one had to keep their balance on only one pair of hooves. Every now and then, the Rockefilly would slip up, maybe stumble a bit, but he was always able to recover. Thankfully, he had the lead, and could slow down whenever necessary. [colour=#0014a8]"It's a bit quick, just need to get used to the pace and I should be fine... You're telling me they dance even faster here? I don't know if that's possible..."[/colour] He continued to move, in and out with his upper body, and quickly shuffling and tapping his rear hooves. The event from earlier still weighed on his mind, and once they were leaned in again he decided to speak up. [colour=#0014a8]"I really should apologize for how I responded earlier, I must've looked like a right fool."[/colour]