Blueblood

(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...

Yes, but now the backstory seems to be out of chronological order.

*This post submitted for judging* In contrast to the excitement of many competitors, whether it was enthusiasm or nervousness which animated them, Flying Brick waited for her turn with a straight-faced calm. She wondered if there was anything significant in the fact that most of those who were excited were amateurs. *And what, are you calling yourself a professional?* Well, she could technically say that, in that her physical prowness in sport earned the her bits. Unfortunately, that probably wouldn't be much help here. Street acrobatics were more of an exhibition sport than a competitive one, and focused more on grace, speed, and agility than strength and endurance. That fact was pretty well represented in the brick-red earth pony's physique, that of a gymnast a little more bulky than average. All this added up to a rather unpromising preparation for a tug-of-war. *Still, nopony else from Stalliongrad is here. Somepony has to represent.* She shrugged as she thought to herself. If she even wanted to be considered a real competitor here, she couldn't limit herself to her forte, and she was not going to shame her home city by backing down. So, when the announcer called for the next competitor she raised her hoof and stepped forward. "My turn." As she took her position, she sized up her opposition. It seemed to be a policy to choose one from each of the three pony kinds, probably to ensure both variety in the one side with a consistent challenge to the other. The three ponies on the other side were looking the mare over as well, and weren't apparently sure what to make of her. One, a pegasus stallion with silver coat and a steady gaze, addressed her. "Not a mare of many words?" "No need to waste breath." Her earth pony opponent, a younger stallion with a cockier attitude, riposted, "Yeah, you'll need to hold it for your mud dive!" Flying Brick didn't mind the braggadocio, all part of the game. She flashed him a grin and rejoindered, "Oh, I'll take my mud bath when I'm good and ready, not before!" Her final opponent, a unicorn mare who looked, ironically enough, the one most used to pulling a tug-of-war rope out of the three, didn't address her opponent directly, instead leaning over to the earth pony stallion and saying, loud enough for Flying Brick to hear "Go a little easier than usual on this one. Acrobats aren't much for the old rough-and-tumble." The brick-red mare's grin drained into something like a stoic scowl. That kind dig was hardly sportspony-like! "Don't spare on my account; Stalliongrad builds strong!" And with that remark, she took the rope in her mouth, and planted her hooves. The three across the mud grabbed their side and set to. Immediately, Flying Brick found herself having to readjust her footing and began to feel just how much out of her depth she was. An athlete who's training is unsuited to a sport is not better than an amateur, aside from developing strength and endurance. However, the strength to pull oneself over a wall, and the endurance needed to run a gauntlet through a construction zone served her well enough through the first few tugs. The real problem was the terrain. *So much dirt, mud, I can't get a grip with my hooves! Not like good stone or brick.* The lack of traction may well have been the point, but with the pulling from the other side ate up a little more distance with each tug, her thoughts were hardly appreciative. She leaned her entire body back in an effort to slow the momentum, but a few more seconds brought her hooves to the edge of the mud. All thought was subsumed to the moment, to the effort. She was operating on instincts now, but her instincts were not those of what the unicorn called the "rough-and-tumble," but were rooted in the acrobatic tradition of her own city. That, at any rate, was the explanation she gave afterward for what she did next. As the next, and to all appearances final, tug came, she suddenly sprang into the air over the pit! The sudden give in the slack caused her three opponents to fall into a sitting position as the observed her skyward arc. Her name and talent were well matched; the flying leap had brought her nearly to the other side, her back hooves planting into the mud on her opponents' side. Giving a bow to her rather nonplussed opponents, and another to the crowd, along with a big grin, she then tipped herself backwards into the mud. "Like I said, when I'm ready!" She called out to her earth pony opponent, and to his credit he laughed good-naturedly enough. Flying Brick didn't even bother to look over to the time board as she walked away. The ending moment was perfect, and to exit to the cheers of the crowd, that was enough for her.

Hm, I'd say the cutie mark story needs some more work done on it. I confess I don't exactly see how just the voice of an author connects to her discovering her writing talent. Perhaps the author could have had a similar foalhood?

Hm, let's see... As a point of style, the parenthetical remarks are a little off-putting (Pot, meet kettle). Just saying someone might remark on it. What exactly a "Debbie-Downer" is wasn't immediately apparent to me; I first thought it was a sock with bad elastic, which would be annoying for a dancer. I guess that's slang for a female pessimist, but still. I can see where you drew from life in this, though no one else probably would. It gives a bit of realism to the character, I guess. Not bad, sis.

"Personal Space" had a different meaning for Flying Brick, along most of the underclasses of Stalliongrad, than for Greater Equestria. For this reason, she had a tendency to get in pony's faces, out of nothing more than gregariousness, which could be interpreted as rudeness. Still, she wasn't fundamentally rude, and the slight stoop her shoulders took on showed shame at a real breach of etiquette. "Sorry, Lady, my enthusiasm and thirst got better of me; but it was very good." A rather sheepish grin capped the apology. Her attention was quickly arrested by the whole conflict that had just come to head, apparently, between some unicorn and Gilda. Not having been present for the first part of it, the mare could only view the proceedings with rank and evident confusion. From what she'd seen of Gilda, she seemed a decent griffon. What was this about a world-view? Why was the first unicorn challenging her, and why did the second call him a hypocrite? But, there was one thing she did understand. "Hey, speak of respect!" The earth pony interjected her head between the two "contestants," fixing them both with a rueful stare. "Take hoof-wrestling outside; you might upset the nice mare's refreshment table, and other ponies want to partake of it!" She nodded at the two who had just come in. "Now, we can take the show out of the tent, let everypony else see this!"

The bandages weren't really necessary, Flying Brick had to admit. It wasn't as if she were bleeding, after all. Still, with her normally dark-red underbelly discolored a purplish-blue from the huge bruise she'd gotten from the skydiving competition, perhaps it was best to conceal the marks. Also, it did kind of hurt if the ribs moved too much, not that the Stalliongrad mare would ever admit that! The infirmary had been understanding, having seen much bravura in its time. They had recommended taking a break from events, which was fine with the brick-colored earth pony; not many that had been set up so far really played to her strengths. Right now, she was looking for a place to rest, and spotted a tent where ponies seemed to be convening. *That will do.* The day was hot, and she could feel the cool breeze coming from the magical fan inside. And in such tents, refreshments were often found! It was with alacrity then, that the street acrobat trotted into the pink and yellow tent, and what should she spy but a griffon! Slightly sour-faced, but still... "Hey! Good to see you!" Brick called out in a stentorian Stalliongrad accent to Gilda, reaching out a hoof to slap her on the back (which might have felt like a cobblestone had been thrown at her), before pulling her in quickly for the traditional Stalliongrad gesture of welcome among the lower classes, a quick, friendly, bear-like hug. "Let me buy you a drink! Ah, they are free." She remarked as she looked over to the refreshments Pink Lady had set up. "And I see you have one, quite smart! I shall get one too." Wasting no more time, Flying Brick practically leapt over to the lemonade, uttered a quick, "Spasibo!" in gratitude to the mare, before gulping down the liquid in the glass, and then throwing the frozen fruit into her mouth as well and crunching it down with gusto. After a few noisy seconds, she gulped that down to as well, nodding approval. "Is very good for mid-event refreshments. Light, cool, but with substance at the end. Smart find." She directed this last sentence at the griffon. She'd never actually met Gilda before in her life, but she'd always liked griffons. One saw a lot more of them in Stalliongrad than in Greater Equestria, and one couldn't blame a mare for being homesick. It was only now that she started to notice the other ponied present. She gave them a polite enough nod, along with her name, "Flying Brick. Just came from the dive, in case you wondered."

*Well, the ladder wants a sure set of hooves. Got that, at least...* Flying Brick, of Stalliongrad, had been hesitant about entering herself for this particular event; as impressive and gravity-defying as her street acrobatics were, they weren't a patch on a pair of wings as far as heights went. And diving? *Fuggedaboutit,* the umber earth pony had thought to herself, as she smacked her gum on the sidelines, *The water ain't a thing you wanna drop into, not downriver from the factory district.* The clarity of the landing lake, combined with the somewhat reassuring presence of an earth pony on the panel of judges, had finally induced the visiting mare to join the line. And as she watched the performers go in front of her, she wasn't sure what she regretted most, the joining or the initial hesitation. *That cloud kicker took the one idea I got for this! Kick flips off a few clouds, grind a rainbow to a triple spin-* She halted short in her train of thought. Could Earth Ponies even do that? She'd heard there was some skill or spell or something that'd give you that edge, not that she'd ever been able to get that advantage. "You're freaking yourself out here, Brick. Don't think, just remember, the key is forward momentum and the right angle. Forward momentum and the right angle." She muttered the mantra to herself, fully aware that it applied more to her own sport than this one. She shut her eyes, trying to think of some way to apply her favorite maxim to a water event- Her eyes burst open. Of course, nopony was likely to think of that! The ladder was open in front of her, and she spared no seconds for thought. She took the ladder at a running start, like some steep fire escape she'd mount to start a public routine. By the time all four hooves had hit the boards, she was in her "zone." Each step was instinctual, her trained muscles twitching in reaction to each sway, as if anticipating the vagaries of a loose screw. It was a long climb to the actual board, but if there was one edge an earth pony could boast over a pegasus, it was endurance. She lost no momentum as she reached the summit, grasping the top handrails with her front hooves an instant before launching herself into a mid-air somersault, slamming into the board on her back hooves so as to slide down the board as it bent downwards, reaching the tip as it sprang back up, sending her flying into the air in a manner not usually associated with bricks. Sans wings, there was not much in the way of style that she could add on the way down. Sure, she'd taken a few forward flips off the launch, but that wasn't the main goal here. It was a high dive, but even flying bricks fall fast, and if the mare wanted to pull off her sudden inspiration, she needed to use every foot of fall to set it up. The slight deviation from the vertical was essential here, and to maintain it, Flying Brick had to plan each twist and turn to hit each cloud at the right angle. They didn't slow her down much, but each fraction of an inch off-center mattered. Less that half a minute later, there was the lake. Taking all the muscle energy she'd reserved during the dive, she suddenly pulled her back end down, slightly below the front. The angle of the dive, plus the angle of attack, plus the sheer momentum Flying Brick had brought to the landing had caused her to skip over the surface of the water. Or, maybe bounce was the more appropriate term, since at that speed water effectively becomes a solid. The first "skip" gave her enough air time to pull off another mid-air twist before getting herself back into the right angle to skip again across the water. The acrobatics had to stop for the rest of them, she had to conserve momentum if she didn't want to finish with an unimpressive plop into the water. There were only three "skips" in total, and the third brought her clear to the shoreline. Extending all four hooves, she hit the sand bent-kneed, before straightening up to look straight at the judges' table. "And she sticks the landing!" Flying Brick spat out in a kind of pained rush of air before collapsing. Dear Luna, everything hurt! Her entire bottom side, where she had struck the water, was a bright red instead of the usual burnt color, and the draining away of the adrenaline rush had made her aware of all her rattled bones and tenderized muscles. She didn't feel like moving for a while...

From the way Applejack smiled, Earth Writer could tell he'd done something right. Figuring out what exactly that something was could wait until his brain stopped fizzing like sarsparilla. One thing was clear *That wasn't so complicated after all! You just shouldn't overthink things like this, and they'll go fine.* Filing away that thought for later, he relaxed, letting the tension out of his nerves that had allowed him to act on his impulse. "You're Welcome, miss Applejack! And I'm Earth Writer." He honestly couldn't remember if he'd introduced himself before, but he didn't care. "Better not hog the front." The unicorn said, as he extricated himself from the hug. "There's a lot of ponies here lined up here, and I can't blame them! Enjoy the rest of your day." Taking his leave of her with another smile and wave, he went to his purchased bushel and pulled it a short distance away, about where Survey was. Levitating an apple at random from the variety within, he took a large bite out of it. The apple was small, about the size of a normal Macintosh (as opposed to the larger sort grown at Sweet Apple Acres, from which Applejack's brother had gotten his name), but the flavor was sweeter, more like a Gala apple, with just a hint of tartness. It was a complex taste, Earth Writer decided, mostly sweet, but not missing any flavor you might want. *Just like this town.* He thought, as he swallowed. "I sure am going to miss this place." He remarked to Survey. "I'll bet my last bit you won't find a mare like Applejack in Canterlot."

Earth Writer's smile brightened as Applejack brought over the variety bushel. The unicorn was certainly not a picky eater, and looked forward to enjoying the many kinds of one fruit. Yes, that would do quite nicely. Now for the other part of the business... The mare's instincts were nothing if not sound. While having her wrap a hoof around his neck was somewhat disconcerting, her casual air was sufficient to mostly put him at his ease. "No, I've not really kissed anypony before." *Immediate family notwithstanding.* He added mentally, closing his eyes as he enjoyed, and returned, the hug. He could feel her breath flow over the fuzz on his muzzle- "Wait. You got five bits?" The unexpected breakoff actually caused Earth Writer to laugh out loud. "Yes, certainly!" In good humor, he levitated the five coins from his wallet space, placing them on the counter before turning back to Applejack. *Now, before you lose your nerve.* His hoof still being around her, he pulled in a little, planting a kiss right on her lips! When he pulled his own away, the unicorn was grinning from ear to ear. "Is that generally how one does it?"

A look of speculation crossed Earth Writer's face as he considered the variety of apples, followed by brief flash of panic as he heard the list of kiss types. *Oh, Celestia, I had no idea that this was so complicated!* But the panic was as brief as the manifestation thereof. "Oh, surprise me on both!" He waved a hoof with a cheerful carelessness with his answer. "Always good to try something new, right? And life ought to be something of an adventure." The unicorn smiled as he leaned over the counter, but his smile had a touch of something... not exactly sad, but like one who was reminded of a serious subject while telling a joke.

By this point, Earth Writer felt he had a pretty good picture of who Pathfinder was, apart from just saying that she was an imitator of Daring Do. It might be truer to say the mare was an exaggeration of her foalhood hero. Certainly an exciting companion, and probably a good friend, but definitely somepony you didn't want around your younger sister. "Well, so long, until we meet again!" He called after the departing pegasus. While his newfound acquaintance would have been worth the time he spent in line in any case, he did have an original purpose here. *Well, here goes nothing.* Earth Writer turned back to face Applejack. "I don't think you're selling anything other than apples, but that's what I came for anyway, so! I'll take one bushel." He spoke brightly enough, but it was only a mask. Internally, he had still not finished mustering his nerves for the "special offer"...