Just another fetch quest (Eloquence/Double Tap)

[Hurricane]

Once again, the troupe was in chaos. Twelve hours to curtain up, and not one pony had their lines down. Writer was fuming, Spotlight was hung over, and all in all, everyone was making noise and clamouring. All except Eloquence. Sat propped up against a tree, she was idly flicking through a novel, her attention utterly drawn in by the story. She had long since learned her lines for the play, even though this production had her simply reading from her script, she knew it was better to learn, and arguably easier so, thanks to her idetic memory for stories.

Of course, that had not lasted long for the mare. Spotlight had protested that she was not doing anything to help, and in a flash of inspiration, the pegasus had suggested that she and Double Tap could go into town to collect the last of their props for the production. Unable to think up a suitable excuse, the zebra was stuck venturing into the town, with a pony she knew almost nothing about. It irritated her to admit it, but Spotlight's oft said words about her lacking a lot of social skills was true. She cared more for stories than people, and she had barely any conversational skills to draw on.

"So... are you... well?" she said, to break the silence as the two ponies walked along. The crowds were thankfully quite thin, and the morning sun had not yet broken through the clouds, giving the air around them a crisp, chilly feel. Her breath hung in front of her after she spoke, before fading into the wind. Silence, permiated only by the clattering of hooves as they proceeded onwards, her dreadlocks bobbing up and down as she paced.

"Uh... Do you have the list of items we need to acquire?" she asked, trying to think up something to say to the stallion.

[Dio]

Spotlight. Double Tap visibly bristled at the thought of her. If Ghost Writer would have let him get away with it, he’d have tarred Spotlight’s feathers long ago. The bratty, entitled, exasperating, prima donna showmare of a star was entertaining enough off set when she’d had enough drinks in her, but trying to keep everything together through costume changes, lighting changes, sound tweaks, and stage resets without her complaining about her hooves being scuffed or mane mussed or makeup smeared was getting to be unbearable. After the morning whirlwind of rehearsals, heavy lifting, and nonstop production headaches, Taps was looking forward to a light lunch and a heavy drink.

Of course as luck would have it, both would have to wait until after the current task was complete. Heavy lifting begot more heavy lifting, and while no draft horse, Double Tap was the only stallion with any experience handling such things on set. Thus it took only a nudge from Spotty dearest to have Ghost Writer send him rolling down the road, utility cart in tow, to fetch materials for the props inevitably ruined by a morning mishap involving a stage light, a bag of feathers, and a bottle of liquor.

“So... are you... well?”

The question was half-asked, half-stated, a dash of awkward, and all jarring. Double Tap snapped his head to Eloquence, nearly tripping over a small stone in the road while he did. He grunted as he righted himself, sighing at his own lapse in awareness. Thinking. Thinking was dangerous. He’d have to do it less often.

“Uh... Do you have the list of items we need to acquire?”

The question came again, half-asked, half-stated, with just a dash of awkwardness. Double Tap was one of the newer members of the troupe, having been hired on as a specialist stage hoof during their last stop in Canterlot and as of yet was not as intimately familiar with the mannerisms of the others so much as he was with Spotlight’s bravado and Ghost Writer’s particular... tastes. Eloquence, though, was an enigma, having kept mostly to herself during introductions and being quite quick about completing tasks before retreating to wherever it was zebras retreated to when their tasks were completed.

[colour=#ff0000]“List is in my saddle,”[/colour] Taps replied flatly, turning his eyes back to the road. [colour=#ff0000]“And alive, yes. Well, not so much. If I’d had my choice, my flank would be under a tree, asleep instead of hitched up to a cart headed for town.”[/colour]

[Hurricane]

The Zebra nodded her head silently, dreadlocks bobbing lazily against her face as she reached into the saddle, pulling out the list. She glanced along it and sighed to herself. She had been to Ponyville before, and knew for certain that these items would require an almost full circuit of the town. She smiled politely at the stallion, rolling the list up and pushing it behind her ear, where it stuck fast.

"Perhaps that is a choice all might make, but without the morning cockrel, how would the rest of the farm know that it were time to rouse," she replied to his statement, wincing a little afterwards. She had meant for it to be a simple lesson, to tell the stallion that sometimes, some ponies must put in a little more effort than others, for the common good, but it had come out ridiculous, and childish. Granted, she was still a child herself, in the eyes of her tribe at least, and certainly still young enough in body that she was not yet fully versed in the ways of the world, but she still liked to think of herself as mature.

The mare said little else until they arrived at their first shop, an open stall that seemed to sell barrels, wheels and all manner of woodworked items. The Zebra looked around for a pony in attendance, but could find no-one.

"Our first item is here. The crafted backdrop for the final scene was to be hoof carved, in order to hold the weight of dear Spotlight," she stated, fumbling about inside the saddle for the large cloth bag of bits that she had spotted in there earlier. In doing so, however, she had to prop herself up against the stallion, one hoof resting against his side as she fussocked around inside the holdall.

"Do you see the stall owner?" she asked, pulling the bag out between her teeth, as a dark blue earth pony stallion, with greying dark mane, and a lathe as a cutie mark, came charging up to them.

"Sorry about that folks, had to visit the yew tree if you know what I mean! Name's Wood Whitler, what can I do you for?" he said brightly, as Eloquence's ears flattened against her head. She took a few steps backwards, and nudged Double Tap, nodding her head towards the new arrival, her auburn eyes flitting this way and that to avoid eye contact with both the stallions. Situations like this made her nervous when she was not near Spotlight. The pegasus had a way of commanding any situation, and without that as a safety net, she was edgy.