CherryRie

Suggestions mainly, Phil. To be honest though, I haven't heard a thing on this except 'when are we starting'. Okay, I admit it; presently I’m regretting having tried to expand on the original concept in the first place. What can I say though, I am nerd girl with an over active imagination and a pet peeve against wasted potential. However. I am also a student rep in the middle of her final assignments and protest action against the axing of creative arts technicians. While I am more than willing to help with concepts, corralling players and drive plot wherever I can; between RL and the fanfic I'm writing (which for the sake of my own sanity takes priority over RP) I just don't have time to run this kind of large scale game from scratch. Don’t get me wrong, I really want to play this. It’d be a great setting with TONES of opportunity for character interaction and story lines. By the sound of things a lot of the other players here share that feeling. But seriously? It’s starting to feel like everyone’s sat there waiting for me to write everything for them. Any idea's I've pitched have been met with single sentence affirmations or silence. I know that everyone wants to play in this thing, so why don't people chip in? Please don’t take this the wrong way, but at the end of the day you don’t expect the writers of DnD to turn up at your house to GM your games. Okay, that’s out of my system, I’m going back downstairs to be sociably drunk. PS; Better idea Riverhippo, I’m just going to copy paste what we talked about into this thread. It’ll so much easier. I don’t know whether anyone just wants to absorb this as cannon again, so I’ll spoiler tag it anyway just in case.

Watching her friend approach the besieged stars, the pinto filly cocked her head at Cheerylee’s briefly startled expression. As the teacher hurriedly tried to dispel the mob, Peabee stood up from her desk and stepped over to Sunrise. Perhaps she was just over reacting, but none of her parent’s letters had seemed worried or angry. Then again, it wasn’t like she could read them herself, so maybe it was Mrs Burch’s aged croaky voice that made them sound so hollow. Picking up one of the blue crayons in her teeth, Peanut looked at the unicorn expectantly. "Do you want me to help doodle something? It’ll be quicker with two of us.”

Think she's about ready anyway, but I'll see in anyone has stuff to add before poping her on final ^^,

Opps Forgot to switch Formating off and on again Better?

Name: Bright Spark Sex: Female Age: Young Mare Species: Unicorn Pelt Colour: Lemon chiffon (#FFFACD), usually smeared with some unidentifiable engine lubricant. Unlike most fillies her fetlocks are short and hooves thinly exposed. Mane/Tail/Markings Colour & Style: Life onboard a traveling airship leaves little time for appearance beyond what is practical. Inconsistently cut to a middling length and tied back by a sash, her rich orange mane is forever slicked with sweat and engine grease. Fairing no better, her Tail is significantly shorter than most fillies, given that the point she discovers it’s too long is when it snags in something. Though she would dearly love to indulge her more effeminate side there is little opportunity to do so aboard the Artorius. Eye Colour: Teal Cutie Mark: A brass governor. Physique: Still a growing lass, Bright spark is at that thin and gangly stage where her body hasn’t quite caught up to her legs proportion wise. The hot working environment of the engine room probably hasn’t helped her figure any either, though this is nicely balanced by an unhealthy sweet tooth. Origin: Staliongrad Present Residence: The Artorius Role Play Type: Mainland Equestria and ‘FFA’ Occupation: Engineer Motivation: Openly she loves to tinker, anything and everything mechanical is fascinating to her. However, her real motivation is escapism. In Stalliongrad the best she could have hoped for was to mate off to some inner-city steel worker. For her the Artorius is freedom. Likes: The thrum of pistons, organised chaos, strawberries, new tools, window shopping (oddly enough) Dislikes: Unfixable gadgets, disorganised chaos, jokes that she dosn’t understand, others badmouthing her shipmates or her way of life, Character Summary: Far from the usual engine room hermit, Brightspark is actually fairly sociable young unicorn. Call it naiveté or just plain cheerful optimism, Sparky thinks the best of just about anyone, though sometimes it seems she understands machines better than other ponies. With her dusty tomboy appearance and ‘wrench jockey’ habits, the crew find it all too easy to forget that she’s a mare as well as an engineer. In reality she is still very much the young filly inside, her perpetual upbeat attitude disguising a want of finer things in life. Sadly, fancy saddles arn’t exactly practical onboard an airship and hoof manicures wouldn’t last two seconds in the coal choked engine room. She knows just how to make anything mechanical work ‘better’. True, the gadget in question might be spread across half the room in order to achieve that goal of perfection, but it will work better none the less. For instance; the Artorius used to have a small prim and proper steam drive, one that provided the kick of a mule in half the space. It now has half the lowest deck dedicated to an engine so overly complex that by rights it shouldn’t work at all, but there’s no ship in the air that can out run her. While many of the crew have shady backgrounds the young mare rarely finds this an issue. They are just as much her family as the Artorius is her home. Sparky hates to see her friends argue and, though virtually incapable of violence, will stand by them against whatever threat might present itself! ... not very efficiently mind you, but still it’s the thought that counts. Background: For some ponies life isn’t all sunshine and rainbows, though to be honest at least such matters are rarely complicated. Bright sparks parents were both born in the foundry district of Staliongrad, each from a long line of blue collar workers who enjoyed the simple pleasures of life. Soot on under your hooves, the smell of steel in the air and a hot meal every night beside a cozy fire, surrounded by grandchildren. While life was trouble-free and habitual, the young filly couldn’t help feeling somehow trapped within her social class. Even if she became a chief engineer in the steel mill she’d be expected to marry off, settling down to renew the cycle and grow old among the forest of chimneys. Ill at ease with this ‘easy’ fate, she made the bold decision to go wandering. Packing up her meagre belongings she set off with her families blessing, headed for the sky-dock… where she promptly got distracted. For almost half a year she was a regular sight roaming around the dockland, fixing the old steam cranes and repairing busted widgets for her bed and board. Then, one fateful day that Captain Sturmvik isn’t likely to forget, the good ship Artorius docked in Stalliongrad in search of their next shipment and passenger compliment. After meeting one of their newly hired deck hooves and being persuaded to take ‘the full guided tour’ of the ship, Sparky found herself meandering the lower decks at a loss of purpose. What exactly set her going remains something of a mystery, even to the mare herself. Setting sail for the painted pinto dessert, Sturmvik noted his ship was sitting a lot lower in the jet streams than normal. Though it didn’t seem to be costing them any speed he investigated their cargo none the less, worried that their previous client may not have been straight with him about the carriage weight. What he discovered nearly made the old sky pirate blow his canons. Brightspark, having stolen back onboard, was presently occupying his engineering room. Though none of the crew knew exactly how she did it, the dusty mare had smuggled half a ton of steam assembly along with her and was in the process of attaching it to the Artorius’. After escorting the young lady to the brig (and a lengthy ‘discussion’ with the greenhorn that had brought her onboard in the first place), the captain set course for Appaloosa, with every intent of dropping her and the offending crewmember off in the frontier town. At least, that was until the helmsman complimented him on the new choice of engine refit. Usually they had to cut power after leaving port, partly to avoid using too much fuel but mostly to prevent the engines overheating. Yet since the ‘upgrade’ that the nice young mare had installed, the old goat had been able to keep the engines running since leaving port without a hitch, just as she had promised. As it was, when the Artorius left Appaloosa, the greenhorn was the only one left with his hooves in the dirt. Assets: Sweet and Cheerful – You see the bright side in life and are genuinely happy to see others. Mechanical Empathy – Perhaps it’s some ‘ghost in the machine’ chatting in your ear? Whatever the source, you always seem to know just what’s wrong (Steam-power devices and magic engines) Complications: Idealist - You always see the good, assume the best and are quick to trust others. Pacifist – You struggle to raise arms against another, even if the situation is dire. Yung’en – You’re green and everypony knows it. Outside of your station your opinion is rarely taken into account. Tinkerer - Like an irresistible itch, if it’s broke you just gota’ fix it. Even if it doesn’t belong to you, if you can see a way a device can be improved or repaired you’re hard pressed not to start tinkering.

"You really think I could do that?" There was something infectious about the unicorn’s enthusiasm and confidence. Peanut couldn’t resist the smile that crept into the edges of her features. Suddenly the filly had a questinon she despiratly wanted to ask the pegasus stars. 'what is it like to fly?' For a brief moment she could swear she was high above the family farm, the winds whipping at her mane and rushing through her feathers. Once a long time ago she had fallen off the roof of the big grain silo, the same feeling of thrilling vertigo drew her onwards now. Only the memory of her father’s face when he found her trying to practice flying did her second of fantasy abruptly end. Letting out a long breath, the filly looked to her farmer friend. Maybe she would get it? Either way she couldn’t rightly keep this bottled much longer. The young Pegasus hadn’t seen the farmer filly for over a year, which for somepony her age may as well have been decades. Still, the eathpony knew about her aversion and its causes, Maybe she should at least tell her about the letters... “Actually, I don’t fly,” the paint foal quietly confided to Sunrise, “Never have, never want to.” Eyes watching the young unicorn colt as he approached the heroes of the hour, Peabee felt a small swell of confidence as she affirmed her denial. She daren’t convey her most worrying suspicions, the one thing that she couldn't quite admit even to herself. “Something’s are just more important, like promises. Besides, no other pony in my family can or even needs to, I just want to be normal.” Carefully the foal bit her lip and looked between her friends, old and new, “Umm, can I ask you guy’s a question? Have you ever gotten lost or something and no pony came looking for you?”

Shock froze the filly in her hooves, a single word preventing the scrambled flight that may have expediated herself away from danger. Head tiltied in confusion, her acclimated vision drew in details of the shadowy intruder’s outline. Strong features, a body that looked like hune rock yet moved as though it were silk. For some reason the word ‘Rustic’ came to mind. “You?!?” She nickered in fevered surprise, recognition flaring across in her panicked thoughts and reducing her voice to a whisper lost among the hiss of rain "Oh Celestia, not you too." Stood before her, stoic as the statue of the Destrider’s founder, was the same knight errant that had saved her from would be foalnappers in Filidelphia. Here, more than a hundred miles from the city from which she had fled, by chance sheltering in the same ramshackle barn from the same storm. An astronomical coincidence? Heart beat racing, the hysterical filly franticly searched the unyielding darkness for an exit. Unable to remember the layout of her hastily chosen sanctuary, only the doors at the opposite end of the barn presented themselves in the gloom. There was no way she could out run the stallion, no chance she could take flight either, her wings screaming in agony even now. Yet any sane mare would have bolted the instant the shadowy figure had retaliated, no matter the odds of escape. Some things were hardwired into the equine hind brain and the urge to flee when surprised was usually irresistible. But something was pushing instinct aside, demanding that she speak with her next betrayer. Rich Tea, once her rock in an ocean of despair had been washed away like so much flotsam. Why would this supposed ‘warrior of justice’ be any different? ‘If it’s one thing you will learn, my dear, it is that every pony has their price. It’s not always something of material value, but there is always a way in, an angle, a weakness.’ No pony was incorruptible. She couldn’t trust this stranger. But she didn’t want to run either. Feeling trapped by her own subconscious, the submissive crouch shifted by inches till her hind legs were braced, stretching her sore trembling wings aggressively. Pawing of fore hoof against the dirt broadcasted an unsure intent as she began to carefully circle the trespasser until her back was facing the awaiting doors. “How did you find me.” Quavered the poised equine, voice shuddering with both fear and fatigue.

From the cafe it had seemed that the cart had contained only a slim number of very large crates. However, now that she was up close the Pegasus could see that there were in fact a multitude of boxes and cases. Some were small enough for an earth pony to carry by the handle, others were long and had a suggestion of gravity about them. Each was meticulously labelled with both detailed High-equestrian writing and a logo depicting the condense. The filly goggled at the array of symbols, there much have been at least one of every instrument in equestria in the back of this cart! Drums, Hoof Boards, a Piano and even- The filly let out an audible gasp “A wing harp! Whoa I’ve not seen one of these in years!” Down the cobbled street, the two double doors took on a golden aura as magic took them in a firm grasp. There was a gentle creak as the two gently folded at their centres to reveal the floor of a large open plan dining room, two tears of tabled foor space looked out onto both the mountain view and the stage at the far back. “Nifty! Looks as though we’re going that way then.” she commented as Flux approached Mr Symphony. Stepped around the outside of the cart she approached the two with an air of the ever helpful “I can’t see why not, many hooves make light work. How should we handle these? I can fly the smaller one’s in easily, but I’m not sure how to shift that piano. Do you think you’re magic could to the trick?”

Thunder rumbled across the foothills, rolling over the ramshackle barn like the snores of some slumbering elder dragon. Outside, wind and rain thrashed fruitlessly against the creaking timbers, seeking out openings or cracks through which it could slink. Long neglected doors clinging to rusted hinges and the kraal high above missing its trapdoor altogether, exposing the whole northern end of the barn to the ravaging elements. Thankfully for the occupant, the stalls closer to the back remained dry, especially near the raised hayloft beneath which the stallion now slept comfortably. Beyond the sheltering walls the storm raged on, a distant flash of lightning briefly chasing away the darkness. Amidst the geometrical shadows of sturdy timbers, a faint silhouette became distinct in the gloom of the hayloft, a sinuous anomaly among the regular lines of the old building. Another bout of lighting flickered through the room, the inconsistency now balancing among the high rafters, staring down at the intruder with Sanguine eyes. Calm settled as the tempest drew breath, the hiss of rain joined by a quiet flutter of wings and heavy breathing. Another flicker of far off lightning revealed only timber where once the figure had stood, the thunder bringing with it the scrape of metal on stone. The weary traveler stirred in his slumber as something cold brushed against his damp shoulder. Moments passed as he slipped below the tide of fatigue, interrupted once again by the sensation’s insistent return. Absentmindedly the stallion batted a hoof across his withers, meeting something unexpected. Something hard. Something Iron. Senses crystallized. Among the howling wind was the sound of rasping breath, the smell of panic and the shaking tools in uncertain hoofs. With the brilliance of the storm joining the roar of thunder, excruciating light burst upon the scene. Above him, poised on shaking hind legs, stood the wreck of a filly. What may have once been a mulberry coat was streaked with mud, the deep red mane ragged and violently torn as though cut by teeth. Sanguine eyes filled with pain glared in an unconvincing show of resolve, framed by a face contorted with both fear and desperation. Breathing heavily, her shaking hooves clung to the long hoe that hovered a few inches from Virtue's side, as though it were her only lifeline against the tempest. Outside the torrential squall began to slacken its onslaught, gradually plunging the open space into a near silence. For a moment the filly seemed frozen, suddenly aware of her own thoughts over the lessening patter of rain, now too scared to run and too terrified to stay. "Don't, move." A feminine voice trembled at last, the owner struggling to retain both nerve and unnatural posture "Try anything, an' I'll...I'll..."

Wincing under Virtue’s intensity, the Pegasus straightened his posture and recouped some of his scattered composure. “You’re not going to like this, but I honestly don’t know much about that anymore. Four months ago I could have told you the names and addresses of every one of his lieutenants. Now all I know is that most of them are either in the royal dungeon, insain or at the bottom of the river. Azure himself isn’t hard to find either, he’s a powerful stallion in the community and well known though out the city. It was a pyramid scheme, a city wide economy with Azure at the top.” “And I do mean ‘was’,” The stallion stressed, hoping that his openness would at satisfy the interrogators demands. “See I'm not exactly in the loop, the only insight I really had was through Cherry herself. From what I was able to find out, about a week after she disappeared everything just imploded. Dozens of crooked business owners and goons turned themselves over to the watch. Officers that’d been on the take for years suddenly rejected their payments and started arresting their bribers.” “What ever had happened, its effects got worse the higher up the chain. Grey Slate, Blueberry Mirth and Silver Tung, dons who ran protection rackets in the city, handed themselves in with boxes of incriminating documents. Hay Bale and Blinkers, Azure’s own lieutenants, developed crushing depression over night along with the sixteen other enforcers. Most of them ended up in the Rosebud Sanatorium.” “And that’s all she wrote I guess. Needless to say, the empire Azure once had is crippled and it won’t recover without his direct intervention. With guard looking over his shoulder though that isn’t likely to happen any time soon. Turned out the one consistent thing the doc’s found was that Cherry had visited all of the patients right before their collective breakdown. From what I heard Azure went ballistic. He thought she was somehow responsible, that she hadn’t just runaway from him, but set the fuses that burned away half his legacy in less than a week. ” For a moment Rich Tea seemed to consider his next words carefully, unsure how to proceed. Repeating what he knew out loud reminded him exactly how ludicrous the accusation was to anypony who wasn’t utterly insane. “I’ve... seen Cherry do things. Amazing things. She's always putting other ponies first, even if it dose harm to her in the prosess. She’s just not capable of manipulation like that, never mind on such a huge scale, but he was still willing to see her brutalised or killed by mercenaries. If I thought it could have change a thing, I'd have face down those tallons there and then. It wouldn't have done any good though. I know it sounds hollow after everything that's happened but I do love her, I'd lie for her, I thought I could die to save her. But come the crunch it turns out I'm just as bad as her father..." Shrugging his wings in a defeated manner, the Pegasus idly regarded the ground. "I wish I had more to give you, but that's all I've got... Do you think it'll be enough? To help you protect her, I meen?"

Briefly, Rich Tea considered the door way that probably housed Cherry’s still sleeping form. In a way it was yet another betrayal, it should be her place to say these things and not his. But no, this stranger was about all the hope his once lover had to escape the following wroth. The more information he was armed with, the better. While Azure’s name and affiliations were not widely known, the media scandal some weeks past had kicked up a nasty cloud of suspicion in the business pony’s direction. Casting the image of the distraught filly from his mind, the cream Pegasus turned back to regard the pony who loomed before him. Drawing a long steadying breath, Rich Tea began to paint the portrait of the cold hoof behind Cherry’s near abduction. “His full name might mean a little more to you, though I doubt it. Azure Skies is the head of the Mainhatten ‘Godfeather’ family. The godfeaters? They’re the hooves behind virtually every form of 'colourful substance' and vice in Cloudsdale, they’re the reason that sky city has no crime, they made it unprofitable. Don’t get me wrong though, they’re not all ‘bad ponies’. I haven’t heard much about where Azure came from, Cherry might be able to explain that better.” Pausing for breath the tan Pegasus plowed onward with not more then a glance at the bedroom door “What I can tell you is this. About twenty years ago he married into the Cloudsdale side of the Family, did a lot of good business and strengthened them no end. But even then his methods were questionable sometimes. From what I hear he got the patriarchs blessing to start his own business in Manehatten, selling whatever she saw fit to the populous. And that's where everything started to go sour." "Ya see, Azure isn’t like normal ponies. He’s cold as ice and ruthless. He saw the most efficient way to make money was to take something no pony wanted, and make it something Everypony needed. Rhubarb leaf’s never been banned cus there’s no need too. Everypony knows how it can mess you up. By the time the guards realised that there was a problem, half of Manehatten’s Earth ponies were hooked on the stuff." "That’s when the crime rate started to sough. Every pony fighting over what Azure’s goons could provide. Making a false market, they set up organised gangs to act as sellers, funnelled resources through fake businesses and laundered the bits coming back through casino’s and other large establishments. He created Vice from virtue, made friends into gangland enemies, turned the entire city against itself, all to come out on top with a profit.” By now Rich Tea was visibly shaking, clearly terrified at even the mention of such things as had occurred within the house of Azure. “Azure is just... wrong. You can see it in his eyes when you speak to him, like he’s hollow inside. More importantly, he’s poison. A pony can go to him as a perfectly model citizen, innocent as a flower, and Azure will take everything good about them and twist it. The longer you stay around him, the more like him you become, cold heartless and brutal. Ponies who ain’t never hurt a fly will do the most terrible things just cus he tells them its a good idea. What’s worse, they won’t see that it’s wrong, they can’t. I know this sounds crazy but it’s like he won’t let them know black from white. And-” He broke off, as though the words he wanted to utter were too painful to pass through his lips. “-He’s Cherry’s father.”

Starting slightly that she had been asked to speak so soon, Snowflake ginned apologetically and waved at the other team leaders. They had all been mingling with the crowd of foals until now, urged by the filly’s gestures to join the front ranks beside the tutors. Each was dressed similarly to the frumpy Pegasus, though the uniforms were of different colors and bore varying insignia. Clearing her throat quickly, Snow stepped forward along with her comrades to address the gathered foals. “Wotcha campers! Looks like we’ve had a great turnout this year. I hope you’re all ready for a crazy summer at flight camp! I’m Snowflake, one of the team leaders. In a little bit, the tutors will let you know which flight team you’re going to be on; Ravens, Swallows, Turns or Robins.” She stated, indicating each respective leader as she called out their group “Each flight team has their own dorm and leader, like me! We’ll be taking care of you while you’re here and organising evening activities. So if you need anything, have a problem or something you need to talk about, just come find one of us. We don’t bite, promise.”

Okay, I’ve made a couple of assumptions here. Given it’s a flight ‘camp’ and not a flight ‘school’ I’ve assumed that there’s a communal hut of a kind where everyone has met up before being arranged into their groups. Not sure whether this is right or not, but from what I've read it seemed the most logical rather than just a small class room. I've also made the insinuation that there are a lot more foals at the camp then just our players. This leaves the door open to npcs and additional players later on. You mentioned via pm you didn't want too many tutors. So instead I’ve brought Snowflake in as a team leader, more of an organizational and support position. Is all that okay with you Dino? If theres anything you’d like me to change then just yell ^_^ Lastly, I really really REALLY think we need to change the location of this to somewhere in the main rp area. There is just sooo much potential in this for expantion and it is a reall shame to leave it stuck in the private area.

Snowflake Two kilometers above the white landscape of the flight camp grounds, a tiny dot traced lazy circles through the empty sky. Snowflake was in that special place where body and mind floated free. At this height one would have thought the shear winds would rip the wings clean off a gryphon, never mind a fragile pony. Yet her luscious glacial mane and tail barely so much as wafted in the calm air. This was the Zenith, the place where two tidal forces of atmosphere collided, canceling out to form a thin band of total stillness. Few could reach this height; fewer still could remain there long enough to use its unique properties to traverse vast distances. Here, in this quiet little place she hung on wings whose span was easily twice her own height. One beat from these impressive appendages would have likely been enough to get the girl air born, if it weren’t for her frumpy figure. Though she had lost a lot of the weight that had once plagued her, the filly was far from a Canterlot-starlet. Drunk on a mixture of euphoria and oxygen deprivation, the filly closed her eyes in a look of contented tranquility, folded her wings away and left herself to the whim of gravity. No Pegasus in their right mind simply allowed themselves to fall, control was paramount with such things. But this seemed to be exactly what the lass had done, skipping along the surface of the powerful winds before breaking the zenith to drop like a stone. Perhaps, if she had been the showy type, this could have been part of some elaborate routine, a sharp dive followed by a sudden deceleration as an impressive show of power. But Snowflake sought to impress nopony, simply enjoying the feel of the unbidden air buffeting her falling form. As she reached the first cloud layer, still far above the camp grounds, feathers slowly began to peak from her sides, straightening her corkscrew before gradually stretching to gently take control of the decent. By the time Snow was visible from the camp they had already stretched to their full span, slowing her fall into a leisurely glide. Finally her hooves touched down on the cloud base, trotting a little way to lose the last of her momentum. Shaking out her windswept mane the Pegasus nickered and drew a long steadying breath from the clean morning air. Another glorious summer at flight camp was about to begin. Her landing had brought the filly within a stone’s throw of the leader’s hq and her quarters within. Unbuckling the flight safe saddle bags, she trotted into the cloud structure and deposited her belongings in the lounge. There were already four sets of bags adorning various corners and cloud-couches. Clearly the other team-leaders and the instructors were already here and settling in. Was she late? Resolving not to risk missing any important introductions and announcements, Snowflake opened her bags and withdrew her camp uniform. Within moments she had slipped into the old green vest and adjusted her mane to accommodate its matching beret, both adorned with the brightly colored ‘Robin’ team logo. While she had only just passed her instructors course for her temp position at the flight school, she probably wouldn’t become a tutor here just yet while there were team leaders still needed. ‘Robins’ always contained the youngest or weakest fliers, who often needed a lot of encouragement or someone to talk to if homesickness should strike. Satisfied with her appearance, the mare trotted back out into the campgrounds and set her sights on the communal hall. Servings as a mess, teaching hall and night time leisure area, the Hanger was the most likely place new campers would be assembled. Sure enough the large open space within housed a gathering of twenty or so campers, all chatting excitedly among themselves. Towards the outside of the corral of youngsters the tutors kept close watch on the foals and had begun their introductions. “Sorry I'm late!” She whispered cheerfully to Galdwin, stepping into line with the two instructors and the other group leaders. Taking up an easy stance, her eyes flicked over the large group of younglings, still wearing the giddy smile that had followed her the whole trip through the zenith, thankful that she hadn't missed much with her dawdling.

“Wonderful choice, I’ll just go see to that.” Chirped the unicorn cook, opening the double doors to the next room as she trotted away into the kitchen. Several minutes of serenity passed, the passage of time marked only by the occasional clang of pots and sizzle of batta from the hidden galley. A steady trickle of students were dropping in for morning coffee on their way to the collage. By the time Maple trotted out from the kitchen, a healthy queue of ponies had already begun to develop at the till. Crossing the cafe with the utmost care, set gently set a steaming plate down in front of Flux. Fluffy golden pancakes stacked six high seeped the tantalising aroma of syrup and melted butter, turning several heads as the platter floated past to its intended customer. Crispy hay and fresh greens garnished the other edge of the plate, completing a wholesome country meal. Unlike many of the snooty restaurants around the capitol, at the J&C ponies got what they paid for, in quality and quantity. Turning to address the till, the rolling of cart wheels caught her attention. Just outside the cafe a long delivery cart had pulled up, its open top full to bursting with large oblong crates. At its front a grey unicorn unhitched himself from the pulling tack, put chocks brakes into place behind the cart’s wheals and shook himself in frustration. Clearly not used to the toils of the common labourer, the stallion wore a look of irritable haughtiness as he rearranged his ruffled smock and approached the front of the store “Good morrow Madam,” he announced, accent so posh that he almost appeared to be yawning “Might I assume I have the pleasure of Mrs Maple Scoops? Filigree Twotone, proprietor of the Canterlot Theatre Hall. Afraid the janitorial staff have the day off, so I have been lumbered with the unsavoury task of pulling the cart.” Lowering his snooty expression, the buck finally noticed Mr Symphony looking on with a knowing grin. “By Jove! Symphony! How are you old bean?” “Nice to meet you too, Mr Twotone.” Maple commented, rolling her eyes as she got back to addressing the ponies in need of service, thoughtfully shouting back to her mate“Try not to do yourself a mischief with those crates dear. Next please.” A small cough interrupted the reunion of the old colleagues. The white Pegasus filly had finished her coco and was stood next to the two unicorn stallions, her eyes on the large cart outside "Ummm... Excuse me, sir. Do you want a hoof with those? They look heavy."

Behind the counter a roiling cloud of steam fountained up from the bubbling milk kettle. Frothy hot chocolate filled the large white mug, joined in short order by a topping of whipped cream and baby marshmallows. Satisfied with the effect, Maple lifted the mug in her magic and trotted happily onto the café floor. Barely breaking step, the unicorn plucked a bunch of thin paper menus from their stand, proffering one to their latest arrival. “There we are dear, and your Coco Ma’am.” With an appreciative grin, the slight Pegasus licked a glob of cream from the summit of the treat. Smiling gleefully, she lifted a snow white wing to retrieve four bits from her saddle pouch. As Maple made her way back to the counter she took care to place on of the hoof made menus onto each fetlock high table. While each sported the same logo; a saxophone with two dollops of dipping ice cream in its horn, every menu had been decorated slightly differently. This was down to both proprietors making them by hoof rather than shelling out for immaculately printed copies like most fancy establishments. They were an interesting little addition to the overall quaintness of the café. Just then a face appeared at the double doors connecting the little café to the larger music hall. It was a scruffy looking but bright eyed workhorse whom had been their onsite carpenter for several weeks, fixing up the last few nuances to their pride and joy. “Wotcha Maple!” Chirped the stallion, “Ah think we’re about done. Stage is ready an’ ‘ah just finished puddin’up t’em lanterns for ye’. Just needs an airing now before the big night!” Maples eyes light up like fog lamps “Oh my, that’s wonderful, Dusky! Thank you so much!” Dusky nodded and held his head high “All in a day’s work ma’am. Now I’ll be back after hearth warming to finish of those barrel racks in the cellar, but if there’s anything else you spot needs seeing too, just holler.” ‘Just in time too,’ Maple thought to herself, as the earth pony slung his tools and trotted out of the door ‘the grand opening’s supposed to be tonight!’ “Sweetie?” She sang, looking over to her apron clad partner and gesturing towards “Can we open our Hearth Warming gift early? After all, Obo should be arriving with those old instruments soon!”

Think of it more as a summer camp in the sky, rather then a flight school. Lots of fun adventure activities and days out that happen to involve flying. Along with flight lessons campers can expect to learn about all sorts, such as sky-shelter building, cross contrary navigation and cloud sculpting.

The Jam&Cream: Carolling On Morning light crept across the sweet powdery hill, its golden rays curving in odd crisp shapes in a reflective dance across impossible steel walls. From beyond the curve of the bole, a single note drawn from the breast of a cello rose to fill every space, shaking loose boulders from the gradual slopes of the mountain. As the Obo joined its stringed cousin, five pail orbs peaked over the rim, suspended in the gentle yellow aura. With a crash of orchestral might the ovoids split, spilling their liquid contents into the grasp of the sultry glow. A spin of brass and the orange centres separated themselves from their jelly like cocoon, falling like enormous stars to the surface of the sugar coated world. Beyond the chrome walls a swell of milk passed the retreating egg white, spinning and tumbling in the harmonic thrall, whisked mid air into a frothy cream. Descending upon the crash of symbols the unblemished hills of Sugar Mountain were swept away, pulled into a palpitating ribbon of ingredients within the confines of the rapidly filling bole. Sloshing and folding upon itself, the heavy mixture leapt from its prison on a wind of flutes, aglow with the familiar energy that had guided it thus far. Reaching its destination, the twisting mass cascaded into the boiling pot of sweet strawberries upon the hob, sweeping them up on the building crescendo. Within the embrace of the masterful artist, the ribbon danced in thin trails around a silent equine figure, her mane a bluster with the sudden blast of frigid winds encircling her creation. Winter descended the small room, welcoming the spun web of ingredients. And in the swell of the final cord, five carefully arranged tubs received a filling of sweet delight, their lids clamping down to seal away the frozen contents from the world, awaiting the call of happy ponies. Silence descended once more on the kitchen of the Jam & Cream. With a smile that brightened the world around her, Maple Scoops relinquished her charge of the latest batch of ice cream and turned her attention briefly to the grammar phone on the far counter. If there was one thing that ruined a perfect concerto, it was the scratch of the needle reaching the end of its track. The old thing had been an ‘opening-day’ gift from her work colleagues. ‘Old work colleagues,’ she mentally corrected, having not worked in any kitchen other than her own for going on three months. Four weeks had passed since the grand opening of the J&C, premier ice cream bar for the student district of Canterlot, and business had been trotting along at a manageable pace. True there had been the occasional disaster and financial setbacks abound, but they had made it through in the end. Work on converting the old firebarn had progressed steadily and, while they had to open the bar separately for income, with any luck the restaurant side of the business would be open before Hearth Warming. At least it’d better be, considering they were taking bookings already. Placing the five containers into the long icebox, the cream coated unicorn trotted out into the serving area and gave the seating a last once over. Rhythmic hammering of a single diligent worker issued from within the cavernous barn next door, along with the rich voice of a stallion singing a Hearth Warming carol. For a moment, the mare stood and listened, humming in harmony as her magic reached out for the two signs by the elegant front windows. Time to open the doors. “Sweetie,” She called up the spiral stairs that lead to the offices and apartment above the bar, “I’m going to open up.” Trusting that her voice had carried, Maple’s glowing aura grasped the bolts across the front door and pulled one of the twined portals aside. Brilliant warm daylight flooded into the Jam and Cream along with the frigid winter breeze. Two the signs clacked open and were set down upon the cobbles. One read Jam and Cream, Open, Hot pancakes and Hay fries. The other was a black chalk board with a more up to date advertisement; The big barn Bash! HearthWarming grand opening. Live music and open juicebar. Book your table now! Across the street, sat near the cliff railings, a young Pegasus had watching her work and now trotted up to great the cafe owner. This was odd. Usually customers didn’t start arriving until closer mid day, when hungry students were released from morning lectures in search of hot hay and cinnamon pancakes. But the filly that stood on their doorstep now didn’t look like the classical Canterlot college apprentice. “Hello dear! You’re here early, we’re only just opening for the day. Eager to get some pancakes for breakfast?” Straitening a stray lock of light pink mane, the white filly cleared her throat and smiled shyly at the steam on her breath “Umm, do you sell hot chocolate?” Maple chuckled and trotted back into the cafe and ducked behind the counter, hearing the door close behind her as the filly followed her inside. Horn aglow, the unicorn fished out a tall mug from the shelf and set the water heater running, watching as the filly took up station on one of the large been bags by the window. Customers should be trickling in soon, so it was worth getting the kettle and hobs running properly.

As the energetic unicorn looked away, Peabee’s face slid from confusion into utter abject horror. “Muh-Me? In the whu-wonderbolts?!?” She squeeked hopeing despirately that she had simply missheard the new arrivel. But Sunrise was right, wasn’t she. All Pegasus wanted to be part of these aerial aces, how many others would assume that she would want to join too? Peanut looked around franticly, there were only a couple of other pegasi in the whole class, and none of them even looked ready to fledge! Oh Celestia, what if the wonderbolts themselves spotted her and assumed it too? What if they wanted to see her flying or... oh gosh, what if they wanted her to join them!?! Mouth a gawk, the paint foal was snapped back to reality as the taller unicorn repeated her question “Ahh, umm-puh-Peanut Butter,” Peabee stammered, frantic eyes snapping first to the troop of winged visitors and then back to the new acquaintance. “You don’t think they’d actually...” she hissed in a panicked whisper, hooves covering her head as though the ceiling were about to cave in. “I can’t be in the wonderbolts! Dad would go Spare!”

I've been thinking hun, what about having different bands for different flying skill groups, like they do in Skiing? Like, first time campers start off as 'Robins', then move on to 'Sparrows', 'Gulls' and finaly 'Eagles' (or what ever names we can think up for the difrent skill groups). There could even be a big campfire ceremony on the last evening where every pony gets awarded their camp badges for that year and a certificate or something, saying that they’ve passed that level of flight camp