Blueblood

I can see a movie happening as a kind of capstone or finale to the series. At some point it has to come to a conclusion; full credit to Studio B, but it's very rare that a show can keep a consistent level of quality past 5 seasons.

If they kept the same production team on it, and just gave them the boosted budget for a theatrical release, there's no reason it couldn't turn out decent. I don't see any particular reason why they would switch production companies unless the movie was being made parallel to the show.

Once Sugar Apple had actually agreed to a date, Earth Writer's face split into the widest and probably the goofiest grin it had ever sported. "[colour=#8b4513]Well, alright then! I'll drop a line when I get back home, and you can fly up whenever you're ready.[/colour]" It was almost astonishing how easy that was; the stallion had always felt that asking a mare out would be trying task, but now it seemed more like going swimming. It took a lot to steel oneself to take the plunge into cold water, but once there, it was easy.

[colour=#8b4513]*That, plus, compared to how we first met, this should be simple.*[/colour]

Suffused with good spirits, the journalist gave a cheerful farewell to Greenshot, returning a wave of his hoof. He couldn't help but voice agreement with Sugar's literary opinion, though. "[colour=#8b4513]They're alright, but I think one ought to have variety in one's reading habits. Actually met a couple of authors once; as it turns out, both were considered highbrow reading by the critics, but they're both collaborating on a novel in the same genre in Daring Do. Heh, an arthouse adventure book. Now that's something I can't wait to read.[/colour]"

Earth then noticed that Sugar wasn't replying right away. Looking down at her, he could see the pegasus mare staring back up at him, with a smirk that he recognized all too well. "[colour=#8b4513]Uh-oh, that's usually not a good sign. Was it something I said?[/colour]" He asked, only half in jest.

Aw, no love for QI? Mock the Week? Would I Lie to You?

You need to branch out guys.

Earth Writer supposed he should have expected it; a pony couldn't very well make a living off of archery these days. As professional sports went, it wasn't a particularly lucrative one. Still, he couldn't help but feel a little sad whenever he heard of somepony who had to spend their working days doing something that was less than what they did best. [colour=#8b4513]*On the other hand, he seems happy enough to be a part of the family business. Suppose that's not too bad, then.*[/colour] Aloud, the unicorn chuckled as he said, "[colour=#8b4513]Not sure I could do that so well, Greenshot; I'd snack too much on the job.[/colour]"

The reporter was only too happy to agree to bring a copy of his article to Greenshot when it was finished, but then his little remark about him and Sugar going on a date brought Earth up short. "[colour=#8b4513]Er, well...[/colour]" His mouth said while his brain scrambled for a reply. That wasn't exactly the sort of thing you could just agree to, not without consulting the mare in question at the very least. Looking at Sugar Apple for a clue, he found a bright blush on her cheek and a stammering denial. On the other hoof, she was also smiling and winking at him.

"[colour=#8b4513]I... don't think this counts.[/colour]" The tan stallion remarked more or less flippantly, indicating the hospital visit with a wave of a hoof. Looking back down at her, he asked in a more serious tone, "[colour=#8b4513]Would you like to, though?[/colour]"

He had held his audience spellbound, that much Earth Writer could tell. At least they weren't openly dismissive afterward, but having been through something of an adventure themselves, both Apple cousins were apparently ready to believe things out of the ordinary.

"[colour=#8b4513]Glad you thought so,[/colour]" the tan unicorn said to Greenshot's compliment. "[colour=#8b4513]Until this week, I never got anything quite so exciting again. I think this latest story tops my first, all things considered.[/colour]" The journalist said as he showed the draft of his latest article to Greenshot. "[colour=#8b4513]I only got the tail end of the story that time; with the Running of the Leaves, I was present from the start line to the finish, as it were.[/colour]"

He paused in thought after Sugar Apple's question, his brow creasing as he realized he didn't have an answer. "[colour=#8b4513]You know, I don't know what eventually they turned out to do. The guard brought them in, I suppose most haven't served out their sentences yet. I'm not sure what they'll do to be honest, now that their picture's been circulated over half of Equestria.[/colour]" He shrugged, remarking, "[colour=#8b4513]They didn't actually call themselves the Coffee Shop Mafia; that was just the label we used when we broke the story, and it stuck. Hmm..." [/colour]He trailed off in thought, staring into space before returning his gaze back to the convalescent[colour=#8b4513].[/colour]

"[colour=#8b4513]You know, I'd thought about visiting them, and thanking them for the good start they gave to my career, but I'm not sure they'd take it so well. Probably that counts as adding insult to injury, and I do try to be polite.[/colour]" He chuckled a bit, before asking Greenshot, "[colour=#8b4513]So, what do you do for a living? I see your talent has something to do with... archery?"[/colour]

There is one in every boarding school.

In a society that tends to a strict regimentation of sport and hygiene, there's always one refreshing breath of stale air, a tantalizing, smoky whiff of the city club and a mature, freer social order. Viewing the cares and inner rivalries of the school with a philosophic detachment, he is undisturbed by the calamities that bedevil his fellow pupils, such as the loss of a big game or the unfair imposition of a term paper approaching herculean proportions. His ability to maintain a calm head in such crises leads him to feel compelled to give friendly advice and commentary from the sidelines, however welcome or otherwise.

For St. Mareson's School, Manehattan, this role was filled by one Wordsworth Psmith. Originally of Canterlotian extraction, recent events at the home had conspired to exile him in a strange city and school, which had not quite gotten used to him yet.

Currently, the lavender unicorn was reclining underneath a tree in Manehattan Central Park, careful not to disturb the creases in his school uniform, watching the play of the St. Mareson's cricket team. Cricket was not as big a sport in this city as it was in Canterlot or Trottingham, but the cities on the strand all had at least one serviceable pitch, and a few teams that played. Given that a match could last from 9 in the morning to 6 in the evening, it wasn't much of a spectator sport. Psmith, however, found it relaxing, and as one of the only friends he had in the city was currently captaining the team, he felt it his solemn duty to provide moral support.

Crowds of passerby may have stopped a moment or two to watch the uncommon game, and may therefore have heard Psmith call out, "[colour=#996699]I say, Comrade Batsman,[/colour]" he paused to delicately flick a leaf off his jacket, "[colour=#996699]As a technique for preventing the escape of the ball after a boundary hit, aiming for the trees is an intriguing innovation, though I fear no less a danger to bystanders. Two more inches, and we would have heralded you as the next leader in inadvertent dentistry; tooth removal by leather instruments, paper co-written by Might Batsman.[/colour]"

"[colour=#000080]Sorry![/colour]" Came a good-natured but largely unrepentant shout in reply from a stocky brown Earth Pony, who took up his bat again as Psmith tossed back the red leather ball, and settled down to watch the next over.

Earth Writer hadn't known, or if he had, he'd forgotten that Greenshot lived in the same city as he. The green unicorn also seemed to have similar sense of fun as well, the reporter was pleased to see. He made a mental note to look him up when he returned home.

Earth was also pleased to note that Greenshot was enough of a gentlecolt to apologize for whatever role he may have played for the current predicament of the two Apple family members, even though Sugar was kind enough to brush off the offense. Having once dealt with an evasive interviewee, it was always refreshing to see somepony direct and honest. [colour=#8b4513]*Probably an Apple family trait, now that I think about it.*[/colour]

Before the stallion could open his mouth to say anything, however, Sugar Apple asked him to tell the story of how he became a journalist. "[colour=#8b4513]Well,[/colour]" he said with a laugh, "[colour=#8b4513]That's a story and a half. It all began right after I'd finished my studies at the Canterlot University, but before I found any work. I took a degree in geography, because I've always been interested in why places are the way they are; and being able to explain to other ponies the story of a place is kind of a passion of mine. I was still looking for a specific post for a geographer, but there weren't that many open for one with no professional experience."[/colour]

The reporter's eye's got a faraway look as he mentally transported himself into the land of yesterday. "[colour=#8b4513]Being without work meant straining every bit you got; I always took breakfast in a cheap little coffee shop because that way, I could read the classifieds without paying for a newspaper. It was on one such morning that I was approached by a member of the Coffee shop mafia."[/colour]

He paused to take in the reaction of his audience; this was usually when other ponies started staring at him incredulously. "[colour=#8b4513]First thing he did was try to rob me. As I was flat broke at the time, that got him nowhere. Then, he tried to recruit me, probably to save face. He promised riches, but if there were riches to be had, I'd bet anything he wouldn't have been hanging around a greasy coffee shop. Well, I cleared out ASAP; I couldn't be sure if I was being followed, so I didn't go to the guards right away. I remembered seeing an ad for a newspaper position, so I went in to the offices. While the guy outside thought I was going for an interview, I was really giving my story to the editor.[/colour]

"[colour=#8b4513]The guy who tailed me stuck around the office, and actually got the attention of the guard on patrol, so the whole business was resolved pretty quickly. As it turned out, the 'mafia' was just a bunch of small-timers who talked a big game, but the editor liked the story so much he put me on the staff, and you know the rest.[/colour]"

Earth Writer shrugged. He had no idea if he'd be believed or not, some days he found it hard to believe himself. It just wasn't the sort of thing you expected to happen in Equestria.

(OOC: This did happen in-RP, in the Free-for-all thread I first used Earth Writer in. I kept it as part of his story because it was just too good.)

There was something cheering in Sugar Apple's very personality; Earth Writer couldn't help but feel that it was a pity that she was in a room all by herself. Other patients would surely be cheered up talking with this mare, as long as she kept her thoughts off the accident which brought her here.

"[colour=#8b4513]Hard to believe, huh? Well, it's true all the same. I was never the most social pony at university; generally keeping to myself. My professors all tried to get me to come out of my shell, since getting a job usually depends on the network of ponies you know. As a matter of fact, it was something of a random circumstance that made me become a journalist, though the story is a little incredible.[/colour]" At any rate, he always had a hard time convincing ponies that he told it to.

Newsworthy or not, Earth Writer was more that happy to hear about Sugar Apple's work, and told her as such. Right now, he just enjoyed spending time with her, and as long as she was talking, she wasn't brooding. That could only help her recovery, after all, which was part of the point in allowing visitors.

Speaking of, it was about then that Sugar's cousin and fellow racer Greenshot dropped by. "[colour=#8b4513]Greetings! Make yourself at home. Partake of the famous Apple hospitality![/colour]" In his best exaggerated Canterlot manner, he presented Greenshot with one of the Granny Smith apples, remarking in a low whisper, "[colour=#8b4513]One of our finest vintages.[/colour]" Sugar Apple's high spirits were indeed infectious, to produce jocularity from the tan unicorn.

"[colour=#8b4513]Oh, really?[/colour]" It was something of a surprise to Earth Writer that the Princess of the Night had seemingly just shown up at Ponyville. While visits from the Royal sisters were becoming more frequent for this town, he himself had been away for most of the years this had been happening. "[colour=#8b4513]I'm not sure I'd have had the nerve to speak to her myself; I wasn't a very outgoing pony, mostly. I've had to move out of my comfort zone lately though, with all my journalist work and such. It's worked out pretty well, actually.[/colour]" He smiled, wondering if he'd have ever actually connected with Sugar Apple, or even gotten into the Running of the Leaves, if not for that unexpected turn of his career.

He sat back, stretching his hooves as the pegasus mare took the pencil and paper. "[colour=#8b4513]Glad to hear you'll be up and about, soon. What exactly do you do at work, though? Do you do fieldwork a lot, or is more floor management?[/colour]" Like most non-pegasi, the details of weather manufacture and management were lost upon Earth Writer, a gap in his knowledge which he was beginning to feel acutely, especially after the inclement weather of the race, and what came of it.

He wasn't bothered much that Sugar Apple wasn't writing right away; as a writer himself, he knew what it was like to get stuck right before the opening line. "[colour=#8b4513]Don't sweat it; I actually had a couple of months between my own letters to the Princesses. You don't force that sort of thing, you know?"[/colour]

I'm back from Europe, guys!

The trip was amazing, but getting back was a nightmare. It'll take a few days before I'm running on all cylinders again.

Well, I'm going to be leaving on a Study Abroad tour of Eastern Europe on the 1st, and immediately after shifting back to the college dorms for my last semester, so I'll be away for the better part of a month or so.

Mortality... well, that was a thought that could bring anypony down. Earth Writer couldn't really blame Sugar Apple for being a trifle gloomy if recent events had put her thoughts on that track, and from what she told him, there wasn't much here to bring one's thoughts elsewhere. [colour=#8b4513]*That seems a trifle counterproductive for a hospital, given how much of healing is psychological.* [/colour]He made a mental note to write a future article calling attention to this fact.

Still, morbid reflections were banished easily enough from the exibition of the correspondence the journalist had with the Princesses. He'd based a couple of columns off of them, but he figured the letters themselves would make for more interesting reading. He lingered over Luna's letter, reflecting on what led him to write to her. "[colour=#8b4513]Luna gives you a different take on the whole 'Bad publicity is better than no publicity' attitude I encounter a lot in my line of work. I'd like to meet her one day, and not just for an interview.[/colour]" He shrugged, remarking hopefully, "[colour=#8b4513]It might happen. Reporters can work pretty late hours getting copy ready for the morning editions.[/colour]"

He grinned as Sugar decided to write a letter to the princess herself, eagerly handing over the paper and pencil. That would certainly set her thoughts on less morbid courses at the very least. Her question about writing to Princess Cadence brought him up short, though. [colour=#8b4513]*It's true, she was also accepting letters. But what would I write to the 'Princess of Love' about?* [/colour]He looked back down at Sugar Apple, and a smile stole over his face. "[colour=#8b4513]I expect to write her sometime soon; right now I've got a few articles to sell to keep hide and soul together. Speaking of," [/colour][colour=#000000]He said, a thought suddenly occurring to him, "[/colour][colour=#8b4513]How soon do you think you'll be able to return to work yourself? I expect you've some sick or emergency leave."[/colour]

Earth Writer was caught in the backwash from Sugar Apple's melancholic wave. Darn it, he was supposed to come and cheer her up, not bury her in painful memories. "[colour=#8b4513]Perhaps... we can leave this alone for now.[/colour]" The unicorn said as he gathered up his draft, keeping his eye on the convalescent. After planing the notebook aside, he leaned over towards the mare, speaking softly, "[colour=#8b4513]I'm sorry, and thank you; I know that can't have been easy for you.[/colour]"

Searching for something that would lift the spirits of Sugar Apple, Earth Writer flipped through the clippings he'd brought in, selecting two of them. "[colour=#8b4513]We can discuss something a little more cheerful. This might interest you; a couple of columns based on letters I received from Princesses Luna and Celestia.[/colour]" Suddenly realizing that this might be seen as trying to put on airs, and not wanting to sound too much like a snobbish Canterlotian, he hastily backpedaled. "[colour=#8b4513]Not that I'm, like, in regular correspondence, see, It's just that they had a letter-writing thing, where you could write a letter and they'd write back. Still might be going on, actually, so if you'd like some pen and paper, I brought some...[/colour]" He finished as best he could with bashful smile. This wasn't going gracefully, but it might at least make her laugh.

Earth Writer began to look concerned as Sugar Apple tried valiantly to get through the very messy section detailing the rescue. It seemed that it was painful for her to go through, in more ways than one. He accepted the invitation to read it himself without offense, making a mental note not to linger over it too much.

He brought the notebook up, pausing for a few moments to decipher his own hornwriting, before beginning in gentle tones, "[colour=#8b4513]Even the many hooves of the racers could not make the work of season changing easy; the rain and terrain both conspired against us as we entered the middle legs of the event. Cutting across the route, separating the two halves of the Whitetail Woods was the Rearing Ravine, a rocky, fog-choked series of canyons that we all had to pass.[/colour]

[colour=#8b4513]The rain had made the hoofholds treacherous, and the fog hid from everypony the few safe routes through the ridges. In pursuit of tradition, two racers, Rising Star and Sugar Apple, were to misstep and tumble over the edge into the ravine. However, while their situation was dire, their fellow racers would not leave them in the lurch! I was privileged to be among a group of ponies who set aside the competitiveness of the day to mount an impromptu rescue, which I am pleased to say was a success. Both mares not only we able to finish the race, but placed very highly indeed[/colour]."

The unicorn looked up once he'd finished. "[colour=#8b4513]Is that... are you... alright?[/colour]" He wasn't sure what question he ought to be asking, given the memories this would probably be bringing to the pegasus, and his attempt at asking both at once sounded... less than eloquent.

"[colour=#8b4513]Hm, wha-? Oh![/colour]" Earth Writer blushed; he hadn't caught that the good natured jibe had been at him, until Sugar Apple suddenly backpedaled to avoid offense. "[colour=#8b4513]No, that, that's alright. I do tend to go on when I've got an opening; comes from having a profession in which I let other ponies do the talking most of the time, I suppose.[/colour]" He shrugged his hooves, and smiled to show he wasn't bothered. "[colour=#8b4513]I guess we all get excited when we talk about our specialties, especially if we know someone else is actually listening. Glad to know you're interested.[/colour]"

In fact, the unicorn reflected, that was one of the things that really made his time with the mare enjoyable. Having somepony that would listen while he went into details about all the places he'd seen, the odd little details only a geographer would notice... it meant a lot to him. [colour=#8b4513]*There's something parallel too,* [/colour]He thought, [colour=#8b4513]*In that she comes from Cloudsdale, a place I can know about only by listening myself.* [/colour]It was a pleasing reflection that occupied his head as he flipped further into the notebook.

"Let's see..." Sugar Apple had asked how her family was represented in the article. As a matter of fact, they were represented rather heavily, as Sugar and Greenshot had been with him most of the race. "[colour=#8b4513]You and Greenshot feature in the 'Defying Hardships' theme-section, given how you both persevered through your injuries. Applejack mostly runs through the 'Tradition' part of it, given that she was the highest-placing Earth Pony. Altheticism also plays a part in it, too; tried to capture her rivalry with Gilda there. There's also the rescue, of course.[/colour]" He added the last part modestly as he edged the notebook a little closer to her. He'd obviously crossed out a re-written this section a lot; he didn't want to come off as bragging here, but given that he'd led the volunteer rescue, he couldn't maintain anything like detachment from the situation.

He waited, holding in his breath a little as she looked over the section. The multiple edits made it a little difficult to get through....

Earth Writer wasn't so sanguine as to expect that his near-heretical suggestion of a pie that could challenge Granny Smith's for supremacy would find immediate acceptance with Sugar Apple, but after all, he had his own family honor to defend in the matter. Not even the Apples had a monopoly on that. And after all, the proof of the pie was in the eating. "[colour=#8b4513]Well, I'll help my mother bake a fresh one, and send it round for you to try for yourself. You won't regret it either way, I can guarantee that." [/colour]He addressed the rebuff graciously, deferring it for another day.

Returning to the issue of article editing, it seemed that Sugar Apple shared his reservations about the opening. "[colour=#8b4513]Hm, better start with something more visceral, then. Probably with the sounds and smells; that was the most vivid part of my first impression, the figurative and literal electricity in the air, the smell of the ripe apples hanging in the air, and the ever-present hoof vibrations..." [/colour]He drew out a pencil, crossing out the first sentence and adding notes to the marginalia. There weren't so many to begin with; while the unicorn enjoyed the writing process, he didn't much enjoy the process of self-revision. Having someone to give feedback and bounce ideas off of made the whole thing much easier. He smiled at the mare's compliment of his descriptive prowess. "[colour=#8b4513]Oh, thank you. I tend to prefer writing non-fiction, as any oddball turns in the narrative can be excused by the fact that they're real events. Whenever I try to write fiction, I either lose patience, or introduce too many shake-ups. And most of the characters talk too much.[/colour]"

He gave a self-deprecatory chuckle as he, flipped to the next page, tapping it with his eraser. "[colour=#8b4513]One of the relative advantages of magazine articles, as opposed to newspapers, is that there's not so much of a stigma against the author acting in the story, which makes it easier to write the body of the story. When you look at the dramatis personae, though, there's a surprising dearth of earth ponies. In fact, your cousin Applejack's the only one I caught the name of. That's what I mean when I say that real life has so many oddball turns; who'd expect an earth pony tradition to be done by unicorns, pegasi, and a griffon? The literary critics wouldn't let me get away with that in a novel.[/colour]" He laughed at that, knowing the sort well enough from his years in Canterlot, and conversations with fellow-writers.

Earth Writer was pleased that his little remark had gone over so well, though he didn't try to build off Sugar's rejoinder. At this point, pushing his luck probably wouldn't be a good idea. Taking the mare's suggestion, he pulled up a stool in order to sit more comfortably by her bedside, remarking as he settled himself down, "[colour=#8b4513]I have had Granny Smith's pies, actually. Didn't I tell you that I grew up in this town? My parents still live around here; I was visiting them for the Harvest Festival when I saw that the Running of the Leaves still had a few slots open and, well, you know the rest.[/colour]"

Giving a conspiratorial look around the room, as if to detect any eavesdroppers, the unicorn leaned in to whisper, "[colour=#8b4513]And just between you and me, you'd be hasty to judge what's the most scrumptious pie in Equestria before trying my mum's pecan pie. Recipe from my own grandma; I'll see if I can't get you one before I go.[/colour]"

Leaning back with a chuckle, he returned to the draft he was working on. "[colour=#8b4513]I'm not sure exactly what would make the best opening line. I'm rather attached to the old Itailian phrase, Historia est magister vitae, History is the teacher of life, though you could argue that tradition reverses it, making life the teacher of history. Of course, I don't want to sound too... snooty, I guess. It's always a bad thing for a writer to be too proud of his own cleverness.[/colour]" He gave an almost sheepish grin as he looked at Sugar. Honestly, she made an ideal pre-reader for this article; she was the sort of mare who was always interested in learning, but probably not willing to put up with anything to hifaluting, as it were.

***

Okay, so, the idea behind this is that my character, Wordsworth Psmith, in addition to being a sort of self-confidently eccentric windbag, is also a bit of a well-meaning busybody. If he heard of anypony having troubles, he'd put a hoof in to add "sweetness and light" into their lives, whether they liked it or not.

Like the advert says, I'm open to pretty much anything from anypony. Ideally, it would be set in Manehattan, but I can have it be during a school holiday to accomodate.

Hello, and welcome back!

Sorry to hear nothing will be continuing in that line, but I know how hard it is to pick something up after a hiatus.

OK, alright then.

Earth Writer chuckled at Sugar Apple's greeting as he took a seat beside her. "[colour=#8b4513]Enthusiastic as ever, I see.[/colour]" Hospitalizations amounted to solitary confinement most of the time, both terms of which would prove torturous to a gregarious pegasus. The unicorn couldn't blame her for any heartiness in welcoming a visitor, then, however unsuitable it may have been for the premises.

He graciously accepted the apple, remarking, "[colour=#8b4513]I actually like eating the tart ones raw, though most ponies use them for cooking. Of course...[/colour]" Here he winked at the mare, "[colour=#8b4513]I have a liking for the sweet ones too.[/colour]" A writer must be excused for taking the opportunities provided to play with words during ordinary conversation, however much they may border on flirting.

But such light considerations were merely preliminaries. Earth Writer soon brought out the notebook stuffed with clippings, laying it out on the bed beside Sugar Apple. "[colour=#8b4513]Mhm, both versions, actually. The clipping was actually published a few days ago, but it's nothing special, just a rundown of events dashed off in time to make the evening papers. The draft is actually for a larger piece that I'm hoping to get into Equestria Geographic. I took the angle of describing a local tradition as if it were something exotic and encountered for the first time because, quite frankly, most readers have probably little experience with Earth Pony season-changing traditions.[/colour]" He nudged it open with his magic, flipping the pages until he got where he'd started the article. "[colour=#8b4513]The key to being a travel writer is capturing experiences unique to a place, and that, like charity, starts at home. the familiar things are sometimes the hardest to see.[/colour]"

For a small town, the Ponyville Hospital is an impressively modern and extensive facility. The reason for this, however, is fairly simple; Ponyville operated as a crossroads of sorts, with both the main East-West and North-South roads and railways meeting here. Any cases that happen to arise in the surrounding area can be brought here quickly and conveniently, making this town a good place to build a regional hospital.

Earth Writer, a geographer at heart, could never help making associations and coming up with explanations like that in the back of his mind, even with the rest of it concerned with something else. It gave him good article fodder, or at least context to whatever story the reporter was writing at the time; on the other hand, he would sometimes go on at length about all the locational associations of anything and everything long past the capacity of any normal pony to remain interested. Fortunately, whenever his works were sent to press, they passed through the hooves of a competent editor, who refined them to interesting little pieces that could be discussed around breakfast tables all across Equestria.

And that, oddly enough, was connected with the thoughts in the front of his mind, namely, the pony he had come to the hospital to visit: Sugar Apple, one of the members of the extensive Apple family, come down to Ponyville to take part of the Running of the Leaves. That eventful tradition had been the cause of their meeting, their forming a very close friendship over the course of the race, and, less pleasantly, the cause of Sugar's hospitalization, as a result of injuries sustained during a dramatic rescue. Earth Writer had agreed to drop by to visit her, and bring copies of his articles for her to read while she healed up.

After checking himself in at the visitor's desk, he got the number of Sugar Apple's room from the nurse, and stepped carefully to it, not wanting to disturb any of the resting patients. Fortunately, Sugar Apple was awake when he arrived.

"[colour=#8b4513]Hello![/colour]" The unicorn stallion strode in cheerfully enough, a bulging notebook laid across his back, as he smiled in greeting to the pegasus mare. "[colour=#8b4513]They've been treating you well here?[/colour]" He spoke freely and easily with her, wishing to cheer her up if needed, and share her cheer if she was already so.

A couple of months after sending his letter to Princess Celestia, Earth Writer was settling into his newfound career as a journalist. Having a direct quote from one of the co-rulers of Equestria in one of his early articles had given him quite the leg up, for which he was rather grateful, and he gave her a shout-out in the 20th column he sold to one of the Canterlot Dailys.

After some weeks among the reporter crowd, he began to see a lot of the journalists who worked the celebrity circuit, and while it wasn't his own beat, he was fascinated by their tales of how that little corner of the world worked. It was here that the saying arose, "Bad Publicity is Better than No Publicity." Earth never gave it much serious thought, until after Nightmare Night, when he suddenly connected the idea to Princess Luna.

Of course, he didn't write her right away. Not only was the subject probably not an easy one for her to think about or discuss, but the way in which he proposed to frame it might prove particularly painful. On the other hand, it was beginning to keep him up at night. In the end, he decided that he ought to at least write the letter, even if he didn't send it yet.

Dear Princess Luna,

How are you? I'm not sure how many letters you've gotten, probably a lot, considering the stir of curiosity that followed your return. I was studying in Canterlot at the time, and the stir among the students, especially what I might call the "night crowd" was considerable. I'm currently working as a journalist now, and from what I've seen, it hasn't abated. You've become a kind of mascot for those who keep odd hours, odd habits, or in some way find themselves out of sync with the "normal" world.

For myself, I keep odd hours. I work freelance currently; no publication's hired me yet on a permanent basis. Still, I've started to find a place in what's called the "Fleet Street" crowd. We're called that because most newspapers and magazines have their offices on that road. It's one of the oldest in Canterlot, though I don't know how old exactly.

Life through a reporter's lens gives one an... odd view of the world. You see much more of the sort of ponies that most never meet in their lives, and would probably not want to meet them personally, however much they enjoy reading about them. You know the type I mean? The upper crust, consisting of the more prominent nobles, and publicized celebrities. I can personally attest to the fact that they will, in fact, do most anything to get the public's attention, under the theory that it's preferable to be notorious than unnoticed.

I'm wondering how true that actually is. What do you think about it? I know you've had quite the reputation to live down since you've come back, but what if there hadn't been any Nightmare Night, or Legend of Nightmare Moon? Would it have made returning any easier if ponies hadn't thought you worth remembering at all, and you suddenly had to introduce yourself as a long-forgotten sibling?

Maybe it's because of the company I keep, but I'm honestly not sure. I think, though, if anypony is qualified to give a judgment on the question, it's you.

Sincerely,

Earth Writer

He kept the letter with him for a few weeks afterward, only sending it out a few weeks after Nightmare Night, just so any unpleasant associations would be distant enough in Luna's mind.

In a race like this, 5th place was a proud accomplishment, let alone third and second. The front-liners had given it their all, and had earned their place on the listings. Earth Writer knew this, and felt far from downcast about how things turned out. In this vein, he tried to encourage Sugar Apple. "[colour=#8b4513]Hey, neither you nor Applejack have anything to be ashamed of, alright? It was a tough race out there, but you put yourself among the best. I won't forget that in a hurry.[/colour]"

The medicos were not long in arriving after that, along with Greenshot and Rising Star. The reporter meant well, but his hovering over the shoulder of the rescue ponies did nothing to aid them in any way. At least they didn't tell him to buzz off, though, and they didn't seem hindered, either. In short order, the pegasus was loaded onto the stretcher, about to be flown off to the hospital. But before that, she paused to ask if Earth Writer would stop by.

"[colour=#8b4513]Sure thing![/colour]" He assented. "[colour=#8b4513]I'll even bring around the first draft of my copy on this race, too.[/colour]" The stallion was blushing himself, and in that moment, something in his head went "click." Without a second thought, he leaned over, and gently kissed Sugar Apple, near the corner of her muzzle. He leaned back suddenly, conscious of what he'd just done, and his blush was now positively luminescent.

He sat back as the stretcher was hauled off, still following it with his eyes, so that the sudden shower-bath from the could above took him by surprise. "[colour=#8b4513]Ak-pth![/colour]" He shivered, shaking the cold water, along with the last of the leaves, off of himself. "[colour=#8b4513]Well, that was... right, anyway,[/colour]" Clearly eager to change the subject, he turned to the winner of the race. "[colour=#8b4513]Excuse me, but if I could have a moment of your time, could I get a few words for the paper?[/colour]"

Ah, that's good to know; I had been about to ask myself how to handle in-thread character development, since that's one of the things I enjoy about RP'ing.