Blueblood

Just the site. If I found myself on the forums, I probably wouldn't have a real life left by now.

Even bricks are only so dense. By now it had hit home that she was being hit on, and the realization caused Flying Brick to sit up, and give a much closer look at the griffon. She'd always liked the look of them; there'd been a few living on her street back in Stalliongrad. All the same, his approach was a little flawed; anypony (or griffon) who called Flying Brick a 'delicate flower' was probably the sort that would say that to any mare. Hence, why her response was laughter. "Haha, Oh, I don't have what they call a 'special somepony,' though I might hit myself if you don't lay off the flattery. My name's Flying Brick, of Stalliongrad." She spoke the name with a civic pride, whipping her short mane behind her ears with the flick of her head. "I came here to represent my city at the games. How did you come here?"

Too late; I've been sucked into that vortex before.

Hm, that's an interesting cutie mark idea. I suppose my current app, Flying Brick, kind of reflects that.

I certainly enjoyed this; it gave me a chance to do a story arc with my new character, and see some really good examples of writing.

Flying Brick was staring at Loki in confusion, trying to piece together her response and his rejoinder. "I think we may have misunderstood each other. I though you had asked who had done this to me. I don't think I knocked the barrel that far to reach you, and I know I didn't get knocked off the track, because I had clambered on top of it and barrel-walked across the finish line." She nodded with decision, adding, "Always stick the landing, even if you collapse in the routine." She was so wrapped up in justifying her philosophy of performance that she missed the fact that the griffon was practically asking her out. She only caught the last sentence, and laughed a little. "Well, make sure it isn't me. The last thing I looked after was a fern, and it died. Never had the knack for being a caretaker."

There was was something inherently humorous in the idea of calling Flying Brick a flower. She was very much an urban pony, and by no means a delicate one. "Ha ha- ouch!" She laughed vigorously, but that was not a good idea with bruised ribs. "You're a bit of a toff, ain't you? As for the pony who did this, well, you are looking at her." She gave a more muted chuckle, but the laughter was not unmixed with regret. "One misstep, and I ran smack into that barrel. Cost me the race, it did." She turned her head, slowly, to get a better look at the pony who spoke to her. Only, he was not a pony. The mare's eyes widened, with surprise and a little delight. "Another griffon! I suppose they'd be attracted by the contest, but you're only the second I've seen in Equestria!"

Eh, don't suppose you'd be interested in joining mine? [/shameless plug] In all seriousness, if I could ever free up more time, I'd certainly like to branch out in my RP'ing. Hence, this thread.

Hm, looks good to me now. We'll see what everyone else thinks of it...

Ah, I do try to put in that kind of effort, but I find my posts either tend to get shorter over the course of the thread, or take much longer to produce. It takes a lot of effort. I gave that a try too, but didn't stay for long. I liked the country-building aspect, though. Mm, I know the feeling. I joined as mod for Feila to keep the community alive, but it's a bit of an uphill battle; the owner's dealing with a lot of medical problems, so can't be on; the other admin isn't active anymore, and a general falling-off of activity is happening. But we persevere! Ah, eldritch horrors. I'm having to deal with something like that myself, though it's a little more complicated than that.

^What it says on the tin. I'm interested in knowing what other sites some of you RP on, or what got you started in the first place. Me, I can be found here: http://feila.org/ This is actually the site that got me started in RP'ing, and, in a roundabout way, into Ponies (the sequence of events was Feila->Channel Awesome->Doctor Who->MLP:FiM)

(If you wanted to continue RP'ing with Flying Brick, she's in the infirmary here: http://www.canterlot.com/topic/11018-post-game-recovery-ponyville-after-iron-pony/)

The thing about pain is, most ponies don't actually remember it that well. They remember being in pain, but the actual sensation never comes to recollection; so that whatever pain they go through at the moment is always the worst they can remember, no matter how slight the injury. "Oww!" Flying Brick as the last splinter was removed from her side, the largest by far. She'd broken legs on some of her stunts before, and she would have sworn it didn't hurt as bad as that one-inch sliver of wood. She'd gotten it, along with about a dozen others and assorted bruises, at the Barrel Weave event of the Iron Pony in a rather ignominious Disqualification due to a collision with the last barrel. Thus, the brick-red earth pony mare was altogether feeling low in body and mind. She'd walked here as fast as she could without too much pain; had the two ponies she'd been talking to followed her? She hadn't particularly noticed; come to that, she hadn't even checked for fellow-sufferers in the tent. Now that the slivers had been removed, she brought her head up and looked around.

Hm, an archaeologist, eh? This one might be interesting for my geographer, Earth Writer, to run into.

Gilda's display was indeed full of bragging and bravado, but not as mean-spirited as Flying Brick had feared. She thought about actually going over to her, but as she started to get to her hooves, she felt the sharp pricks of pain from the splinters she got from the barrel. "We can talk on the way to infirmary; I should get this seen to." Whatever right the judge may have thought she'd earned, the mare was not leaving the field with her head held high. (Exit Flying Brick; we can continue in the Free RP board if you like)

Roleplay Type: World of Equestria Name: Flying Brick Sex: Female Age: Young-ish Mare Species: Earth Pony Eye Color: The color of a sun-paled paving brick (#ff3333) Coat Color: A darker brick, one stained with soot (#660000) Mane/Tail/Markings Color & Style: Her mane and tail are colored like a third kind of brick, this one fresh from the kiln (#990000). Her mane is cut short enough not to get caught up on anything while she runs through the city, and otherwise left unstyled. Her tail is also somewhat shorter than average, for the same reason. Physique: Her overall skeletal structure would tend to the short and lithe, like a gymnast, but she's put a little more muscle on than you'd usually see on one. Cutie Mark: A winged brick Origin/Residence: Kuznitza District, Stalliongrad Occupation: She would call herself a "street acrobat," but she's often had to take other jobs to support herself and her family. Motivation: To find some way of doing what she loves and making a living out of it, while staying out of the main Stalliongrad sporting system. Likes: Her home city, finding creative ways of incorporating the things around her into routines, showing her moves, griffons, bubble gum Dislikes: The country, backing down from a challenge, going hungry, rigorous and overbearing authority, reading, seeing anypony hurt, bananas Character Summary: It is common wisdom that Earth Ponies are especially connected with the land, and many have taken this to mean that they're mostly country folk, and can never really get used to living in a city. That, however, would be a hasty generalization. It's true that most Earth Ponies had their roots in farming, and thus that connection to their land made them slightly uncomfortable with the idea of living on top of brick and stone instead of proper dirt. However, a few did, and after a few generations, the observer may note an inversion of the common wisdom. City-bred earth ponies are indeed connected to their environment, and feel as connected to their streets and parks as country ponies to their lanes and fields. Such a pony is Flying Brick, a fact reflected in her very coloration. To her, the cobbles, bricks, and lampposts are as natural as the grass, rocks, and trees. She loves her own Stalliongrad, but can feel comfortable in any urban environment in a way she can't in a smaller, more rural town, let alone unsettled country. She grew up in the lower-class portion of the city, however, so you could hardly call her refined. She would seem to have no sense of personal space, coming partly from somewhat close living conditions, partly from a genuine liking of being around someone, and partly because it was considered rude in her neighborhood to seem stand-offish. She can get a little exaggerated with gestures of affection, slapping friends on the back, or suddenly pulling them into a hug whenever they meet, again partly from individual caprice and partly because most ponies on her street tended to act the same way. While she grew up in Kuznitza district, she'd hardly confined there. She's run all across the city, doing her routines to entertain ponies wherever they are thick in walking traffic. Still, she's generally not found in the highlands, where the more upper-class residents are, and tends not to visit the business district until the afternoon shift change. Her enthusiasm in putting on a show and demonstrating her athleticism through freerunning up a building, doing flips off the fire escape, and leaping from lamppost to lamppost can bring cheers from her watchers, and even bits tossed at her (alas, not quite enough for a living). Bio- Early Life: Flying Brick was born into a good and loving family, though it wouldn't be strictly accurate to call it a happy one. When your father is a Pegasus who couldn't fly through a wing injury, and your mother a gymnast whose career was cut short through a leg injury, there's a kind of sorrow that doesn't ever really go away from the home. Still, they both did try to make the best of it, and her father had attained some small success in building the narrow, tall buildings often seen in the city district. He was quite charmed with the brick-like coloration of his daughter, and her habit of jumping off the furniture was pardoned as "living up to my side of the family." Her mother wasn't so patient, but still liked that her daughter had inherited something of her skills. She grew up happy enough as a rather athletic filly, who was very much more street-smart than book-smart. Like most foals of the type, she had the usual impatience with sitting in a desk at school, and couldn't wait to get out, to show off her new moves to all her friends. This caught the eye of her teachers, who went to her parents one day and asked if they'd thought about enrolling their daughter in a different curricula. Stalliongrad had a long tradition of acrobatics and gymnastics, and would often recruit promising talent early. Her mother, however, had put her hoof down and refused. She'd gone through that training herself, and had done all the work asked of her, even gotten her cutie mark in it. After all that, on the cusp of breaking out in her career, her coach had pushed her through one long night of practice, and she ended up injuring her leg so badly she still walked with a slight limp. She wasn't about to let her daughter go through the same thing. Flying Brick, for her part, wasn't too upset at the news, not after hearing her mother's horror stories, at least. Sure, she'd have liked not to have to deal with her teachers, but not being able to run down the street and take a flying leap over a back alley wall again? No, thank you. Cutie Mark Story: Professional gymnast being out of the question for a career path, Flying Brick's father would often bring her with him to his work sites when school was out, having her do small jobs, usually taking messages or tools to the other pegasi or griffons that specialized in this kind of architecture. One day, when his crew were working in one of the more middle-class districts, adding a third floor to the top of a shop, a few of the passers-by stopped to stare at the rather unusual sight of one Earth Pony filly working alongside grown flyers on a higher-altitude construction site. Flying Brick's method of getting between her father directing operations on the ground and the workers in the air, shimmying up and down a lamppost, drew some applause, which encouraged her to put a little more flash in her path. By the late afternoon, she was doing flips on and off the roof, sliding down the railings of the fire escape, and generally putting on a show for the crowd, whose applause grew with every new demonstration of athleticism and showmareship. It wasn't until the workday was done that the filly realized she'd gotten her cutie mark, symbolic of both her name and her high-flying skills. Up to Present-day: There was still no chance of Flying Brick ever going through the official channels for joining a Stalliongrad acrobatics team. Not just from her mother's veto, either; by this time, she herself has a definite preference for the street venue, and a prejudice against the official rigor put into the coaching. As she grew up, she would run all across the city, sometimes on the street, sometimes on the rooftops, about as aerial as a pony can get without wings. She hunted for good venues, and experimented with incorporating the objects of her environment, like trashcans and taxicabs, into her routine. She grew to love performing on the streets of her city, and even to love the streets and the city itself. This, however, did not bring her close to making a living. Ponies appreciate street performances, but its not easy to live from bits given by strangers, especially from a mobile performance. Buskers, at least, can stay still, and don't get as tired. She's still looking for a way to not have to take odd jobs to support herself, and her family, but she's beginning to wonder if that's even possible in this city... Major Flaws: Flying Brick has two major weaknesses. First, she doesn’t accept discipline or orders of any kind well, even if they’re in her best interest. On the other hand, she can readily be dared into doing anything, even if it’s a dumb idea, especially if you present it as a challenge to her athleticism or showmareship.

"Mhm." Flying Brick just nodded at Wind Rider's assessment. That might explain her odd performance spread, actually; she took all her unfamiliar events first. The later events, which she was technically better at, had to deal with all that built-up fatigue that she hadn't rested out. Well, she had to learn that lesson sometime. "Thanks. Hoofington, eh? I'm from Stalliongrad, if the accent did not tell you. I'm here mostly to, well, see if if I can get by as an independent acrobat. Acrobats don't get far in my hometown if they're not connected to the official system." She spoke the words with a grimace, as if the concept left a sour taste in her mouth. "I'm more used to city venues, in any case. I may end up on the streets of your city eventually; hopefully as a touring performer, and not a tramp." She would have moved in closer to talk to the pegasus, but she felt just a little too tired and sore to get up yet. Thus it was that Douglas returned. She acknowledged him with a nod, not trusting herself to speak yet. Also, she was currently distracted in watching the performance of the Griffon, which was quite frankly impressive. Flying Brick did muster the energy to beat her hooves against the earth a few times in applause, but the effort shortly petered out. "That's Gilda." She told the two by her. "She's going to be quite cocky after that, I'm afraid." She sighed and looked down at herself. "Perhaps I better go, she's not the sort to be kind to losers."

Flying Brick tried to muster a smile to match Wind Rider's own, but it came out a little tight-lipped. "I've been to the other events already; that's why I stumbled. Fatigue." She gingerly sat down; it wouldn't be good to just collapse. That would only hit the bruises and drive the splinters in deeper. *I'll have to stop by the infirmary after the griffon finishes her run.* "It's been kind of a strange day." She sighed, running a hoof through her short mane. "I've done better at events that I'm not usually good at, but worse at the ones I should be best at. This should have been like crossing the street for me! Instead, I do better at diving, and you wouldn't touch the river where I grew up, not if you didn't want to turn green." She chuckled a bit at that memory of home. She turned to watch the race, but still carried out the conversation. "So, where are you from?"

The mare couldn't deny the truth, but it was still hard hearing it. "Thank you anyway. Ooh!" She'd felt a series of sharp pricks in that last stretch, possibly splinters from when she hit the barrel. Still grimacing, she walked over to where the other finished contestants were. Actually, it seemed that only one was sticking around, Douglas had apparently already seen himself off. That left the pegasus who'd been in lane three. She nodded to him, asking "So, I didn't get a chance to see your run. How did it go? Mine..." She sighed, not quite willing to speak of it yet. Her head jerked around when she heard a familiar voice. It was the griffon, from the lemonade tent! Of all creatures, this was the one she dreaded owning her failure to the most. Gilda had made her opinion of defeat quite clear before, and the mare was in no mood to hear it now. On the other hand, her run might be worth sticking around to see, even if she made herself scarce afterwards. So, Flying Brick stayed put for now.

(This post is submitted for judging) For the second time that day, Flying Brick was emerging from the infirmary tent with bandages wrapped around her torso. Between the bone-rattling bruising she'd taken off her high-dive landing, to the scrapes and splinters from the barrel weave, nopony could accuse her of sparing any effort to represent her home city of Stalliongrad at the Iron Pony games. On the other hand, the bandages were all she had to show for that effort. She'd gotten an outright DQ on her last event; and even at her best the scores had been respectable, but not the sort that brought home the rosette. *Not our finest hour, for sure.* The earth pony mare trotted with tired steps among the throngs of spectators and competitors, exhausted and homesick. She missed the feeling of cobble and brick beneath her hooves, the accent and slang of her home streets, and the bracing cold bite of the northern wind between the buildings. As she passed the booth of the cupcake-eating contest, the warm breeze gently pushed the scent of all the baked goods available, and Flying Bricks stomach kicked up an audible fuss. The growling brought her up short right in front of the sign displaying the rules, like a sign from Celestia. How long had it been since she'd eaten? She'd had a few bites after the diving contest, but that seemed ages ago! The rules were short and few, and made it pretty clear that, for some unfathomable reason, these Equestrian ponies were allowing contestants to eat all the cupcakes they wanted in half-an-hour, and calling it an event. On the other hand, she was hungry, and it didn't do to be ungrateful, after all. Walking up, she put her name down with the judges, and took a seat at the table, a little bit of drool beginning to collect at the corners of her mouth as she surveyed the variety of treats available. *This... is going to be glorious.* Turning over the hourglass with a solid thunk, Flying Brick started on the first cupcake to hand, a cream-filled chocolate one. She took one bite, then crammed the entire pastry in her mouth, reaching for the next even as she swallowed. It would be an understatement to call them delicious; it wouldn't have surprised her in the least to learn that the organizers had carefully chosen the best baker in Equestria to cater this event. In any case, she was caught up in the moment, wolfing down pastry after pastry to satiate her starving stomach. After the first ten minutes, she began to slow down again, the first rush of hunger being over. She took each cupcake at a steady pace, sampling one kind each in turn. There was a Coconut Cupcake with Pineapple frosting, a smooth buttery flavor she couldn't name but really enjoyed, a Red Velvet that rivaled her own coat in color, and a Salted Caramel Cupcake, which was much better tasting than one might expect, and many more. As each cake was tackled in it's turn, Flying Brick could feel the tired soreness from her muscles slip away, the agony of defeat routed by the ecstasy of cupcakes. As the final ten minutes approached, she actually picked up her pace, revisiting all her favorites and consuming them three or four at a time, only slowing down in the final three minutes, her once-empty stomach now filled almost to bursting. She took it slowly for the last few pastries, savoring each and timing the final swallow to coincide with the last grains of sand falling through the glass. Her time finished, she reached with the utmost gravity for the glass of milk provided to each contestant, guzzled about half of it to wash down all the treats she'd consumed. Placing down the glass, she turned to the judges, giving a cheery wave. "Thank you very much. We never had anything so delicious back home!" The mare called out in her Stalliongrad accent, before tipping over to join her fellow-contestants on the ground, a smile still on her frosted lips.

[Third Post for grading] "Darn, guess ah must've tapped a barrel and didn't notice." It wasn't Douglas' fault; the stallion was probably quite unaware of how much his words stung Flying Brick. He hadn't been paying attention to her run, being busy with his own; he hadn't been looking in her direction when he said it, and so did not see her wince when she heard them. Still, they did hurt, enough to bring tears to her shut eyes. She immediately brought up a hoof to wipe them off. She hated crying in public, even more than any kind of slip-up or failure in sport. *No, you don't let them know how much it hurt. You have nothing to be ashamed of, and neither has Stalliongrad.* It took a minute to convince herself of that, and another minute of deep breathing to regain her composure. Opening her eyes and throwing her head back, she bowed once to the crowd, and began trotting back to the starting line. The earth pony could feel her muscles twinging with each step; she would have to do some cooldown stretches if she didn't want them to sieze up later. At least she had nothing to lose in time or energy by talking to the judge at the beginning now, she reflected. She stopped in front of Hind once she'd reached the line, stretching out her hind legs with a slight grimace of pain. "Well, that could have gone better, I suppose." She remarked ruefully to the older stallion.

For some reason, the top part of your app now has that paragraph copied in bold. I have no idea how that happened. In any case, the order's better now, though I'd suggest editing for a smoother narrative flow (tell what her sister's reaction was when Fictoria got home, or something). And, like Swing Beat, there's a lot of room for expansion if you like. It just seems a little shorter than most that get accepted.

"Gotcha." Flying Brick might have been more talkative with the judge, but she didn't feel that she had the focus or energy to spare. She did give him her best smile, though; no need to be rude after all. She trotted over to her lane, and stretched out, ready to launch forward as soon as soon as the whistle sounded. It wasn't until she was right at the starting line that she realized that she'd spent no time studying the course or planning her approach, as in her other events. *How did I get to be so sloppy? I must be getting tired.* No time to think, there was the whistle! She took off down the left side of her lane, pacing her start as she approached the first red barrel. There was enough room between that and the orange barrel ahead for the earth pony to take the turn at a gentle angle, before kicking off into a sharp turn between the second and third, accelerating down the relatively long stretch until the fourth. *Not bad, not bad. Just imagine it's like the traffic on the street, and you've got to get across!* The thought encouraged her as she swerved behind the fourth barrel, the yellow color reminding her of one the cabs her cousin pulled for his job. She was starting to get into the rhythm of it now, to lean into her turns, to anticipate the steps needed to bring her around the next barrel. By the time the fifth barrel had approached and the mare had swung an arc around it, she was accelerating again, setting a pace for a strong finish. There was another stretch before the sixth and seventh barrels, which were placed close in a pair. Flying Brick narrowed her eyes as she approached, charting the course as rapidly as her hooves traced it, *A gentle curve to pass the sixth, then lean in sharp for the seventh, just like the first two.* The movements were almost instinctual now, and she began to trust her training again. Sure, a street acrobat doesn't weave through barrels on a dirt path, but carts and cobblestones were practice enough, right? The final three were gathered in a trio ahead of the seventh barrel, down a shorter flat stretch. The mare could feel her tired legs start to burn as she pounded down to the eighth barrel, but she pushed through it, just trying to maintain her momentum. *Come on, one more good run. Just these three, and across the line!* Clenching her teeth to summon that last reserve of energy, she pulled herself into the first turn, then swung between the eighth and ninth to swerve herself into the next turn, and- It happened a little too fast for her mind to catch up until it was over. Having sped a little too fast through that second turn, she'd had to jerk herself back to the right suddenly for the last one, and missed a step. One of her hooves went sideways, and so did she, landing on her side and skidding into the last barrel. The reflexive move had probably saved her from a sprain, but the collision had reawakened the pain from her old bruises. She'd given an involuntary cry with the shock, eyes screwed shut. She didn't spare more than a moment, getting to her hooves with ragged breaths to finish the course- And then came the second shock. She'd been going too fast when she hit the tenth barrel pretty much straight on, and knocked it over. "No..." She shook her head in disbelief. She was so close, was this disqualification how she would end the Iron Pony? "No! It does not end like this!" She stomped her hoof. She'd come too far not to finish strong, not to show the best she had to offer. *After all, it's not as if they can disqualify me twice!* The thought was liberating, and gave a kind of lightheaded energy to Flying Brick's next move. She leaped onto the barrel she'd knocked on it's side, dextrously moving it under her hooves towards the finish line. *Just like the trashcans back home. Keep moving, you're almost there.* Three more steps... two... one... and across the line. With a rather tired hop, she planted herself on all four hooves again, taking great, shuddering breaths and trying not to fall over again. The last bit of lightheaded energy had faded from her, and now she only felt exhausted. She kept her eyes shut, not trusting herself to keep from crying. The bruises still hurt, but that wasn't why she had to stem the tears. "Sorry... I couldn't show better..." She spoke aloud her apology to her far-away home city, hoping she had not shamed it in front of so large an audience.

There is nothing like a bad landing to put an acrobat out of sorts, especially off one's signature event. That might explain the vacant look and vague frown of one earth pony mare, which could be seen as she attempted to trot out her discomfiture. It made her look out of place in the sea of smiling excitement that milled around each event, and Flying Brick certainly felt out of place. *These are country games. What's a city pony like you think you're doing here?* She stopped, trying to shake off the doubt, but it weighed to heavily to be dislodged so easily. It had been a long day of competition, and almost nothing had gone as planned. She'd made a surprisingly good show out of events she hadn't expected to do so well in, but her signature event, the obstacle course, had concluded on a less than stellar note. To top it off, she was now realizing just how far from Stalliongrad she was, and the mare was just plain homesick by now. *But I can't go back yet. That would be backing down, and to quit is more shameful than to lose.* She had to stick this out, and that meant returning to the field. The excited voice of a stallion brought the brick-red mare to the present, and she looked up to see where she was. "Barrel Weave?" The words almost made no sense to her, and she had to lean in close to the poster to read the rules, following along with her hoof. Okay, that didn't look too complicated... so why were there so many judges? Style didn't look like it counted for much here, but there was probably a lot of technique involved in the tight turns. The judge had just blown the whistle to start the first stallion across the line. Nopony else had gathered yet, so it looked like she'd be next. She trotted up to the starting line, steeling herself to represent her home city with a good run as she pawed the earth. *Let's show them what we've got!*

*This Post Submitted for Judging* "Now this is more like it!" Flying Brick surveyed the obstacle course with an eager grin as she undid the last of her bandages. The bruises from the rather hard landing at the Sky Dive had faded below her dark red coat now, and she was fully ready to give a full demonstration of her skills. After all, if a street acrobat who climbed the lampposts of her home city, did flips off the fire escapes for fun, and could navigate through a construction at top speed couldn't make a good show here, well! She might as well hang up her horseshoes. *Of course, there are no lamp-posts or fire escapes here. Don't forget, you're a long way from Stalliongrad.* A small, sobering voice in her head whispered, but she paid only a little heed to it. Being so far from Stalliongrad only meant that she would have to represent it at her best, and this was the best place to show it. At least, it was better than a tug-of-war, which would have to do. As an earth pony, there wasn't much she had to worry about in the way of avoiding cheating. She hadn't brought any gear with her that she'd have to leave with the judge; the streets had always given her the props she needed for her routines, and she was sure the course would be similarly generous. She'd held back a bit in line to plan how to approach each obstacle, but now was her time. She stepped up to the line, and nodded to the judge to answer that she was ready. "Three...." *Remember, this is your forte.* "Two..." *Remember, Stalliongrad builds strong.* "One..." *And don't forget to give them a show!* "Freeet!" With the first sound of the judge's whistle she was off, launching forward on the very tips of her hooves for the few light, quick steps it would take to reach the edge of the mudpit, which she leapt into, placing the back ends of her hooves forward. No doubt, it looked an odd way to enter the contest, but the reason the mare adopted the style was quickly apparent; for the first few feet, she was practically surfing on the top of the mud, sending out a wake of dirt to either side, before finally losing momentum and sinking into the mire. "Ptui! Well, so much for the easy part." Flying Brick muttered as she began the slog through the rest of the pit. She wasn't bulky enough to just push through the mud; it was too think, and would have slowed her down too much. However, it wasn't thick enough to scamp over the top of either, so she had to lift each hoof up to pull herself forward, which was the quickest method, but rather tiring. She was relieved to be able to pull herself from the far side of the pit at last and, sparing a second to shake off the deadweight globs of mud still sticking to her coat, she took off for the barrels, not even slowing down as she reached the first one. Wood didn't offer as much traction for a vertical grip as brick, but they'd do. The mare grinned as she scaled the pile; running and climbing over uneven and unlikely surfaces was right up her alley! Reaching the top with nary a loss of momentum, she took a flying leap off the topmost barrel as it fell away beneath her hooves, turning a somersault in the air and hitting the ground running to the cheers of the crowd. While Flying Brick was certainly no slowpoke, she wasn't at her best on the flats. And this wasn't even a flat street, just a dirt path. For a city-born-and-bred pony, the country terrain couldn't help but be off-putting. She couldn't spare a thought for that, though; thinking would only slow her down now. She was confident she could make up any needed time on the final obstacle, though. Just balance a few pies around the sticks? She'd done pretty much the same thing with garbage can lids and lampposts back at home, couldn't be too hard. As she reached the table where the pies were kept, she could feel a slight fatigue in her muscles; her technique in the mud pit was taking its toll now. She flipped each pie onto her back with her mouth, nearly tipping the third as she could feel herself rushing. *Whoa, careful. More grace, less haste.* With that last bit of advice, the earth pony silenced her thoughts as she sailed through the last obstacle. Like before, she kept her steps light but quick, allowing for adjustments in her pace and pitch to keep the pies in balance. *Not quite like garbage can lids, but close enough.* She let her muscles do most of the thinking now; they knew a bit more about the subject, after all. Good thing, too, as she could feel a little wobble come into her legs after rounding the third pole, and transfer itself onto the pies. She let her instincts run the last few steps, which grew crazy, weaving back and forth to keep the balance on her back. She practically skidded across the finish line sideways, tipping over immediately afterward, pies and all. "Clumsy finish." She chided herself as she shakily got to her hooves. Flying Brick had always tried to "stick the landing," and now was feeling out of sorts as she looked to the board for her time. Hopefully the time was worth bringing home...