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#Post#: 448--------------------------------------------------
A Step Outside
By: Patches Date: January 7, 2014, 1:08 am
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A lone raven’s call pierced the warm summer air on the outskirts
of town, breaking the usual peace and quiet that was custom to
this district. The black bird perched upon the roof of the
shophouse looked down upon the few passing ponies in the streets
with beady eyes, hopping along the rain gutters all the way to
the edge of the house until those who would dare pass in front
of the building had moved on. When it finished defending its
territory, it hopped along the shingles back to its favorite
spot, just overlooking the backyard of the shophouse, and
ruffled its feathers in a proud display, chest feathers
quivering in contentedness as it stood watch once more.
The sound of the kitchen window opening, however, was enough to
break its concentration, and caused its entire display to be
forgotten. The sound of the kitchen window being left open could
only mean one thing after all, and the soft and beating whistle
that came from below only made things better. Giving two little
hops to the edge of the roof once more, it spread its wings and
swooped down to the windowsill, twisting its head to get a look
at the pony inside the house. “Oh there you are Dawn. I hope you
are hungry.”
The raven rapped its beak twice on the wooden window frame
before looking up expectantly at the light grey unicorn who was
watching the clever little bird with a warm smile. The mare gave
a little chuckle in her throat before she levitated a small
paper plate out onto the window sill, her white magic that had
enveloped the plate dissipating to reveal some leftovers from
breakfast, “There you go,” she began, “bread crust, hashbrowns,
and some scrambled egg.” The raven waddled over to the paper
plate, looking back at the unicorn before snatching up the
unused bread crust in its beak, setting it on the window sill
where it could hold the bread down with one foot and rip off
bite-sized chunks of food to scarf down.
The light gray mare watched for a good few seconds before giving
a heavy sigh and levitating the previous plate to the trash,
having been picked clean from the previous day. Now that
cleaning up after breakfast was done, Patches could finish the
last thing that was left to be done on a Saturday. Walking over
to the refrigerator, she levitated the small list from it,
scanning over it briefly with her brilliant emerald eyes before
folding it and taking it with her. The pantry was looking a tad
empty already, and it was time to restock.
The unicorn walked through the darkened house, the soft and
muted light of the enchanted candles offering just enough light
to illuminate the steps that led upstairs without harming the
mare’s vision. As she stopped in front of the door to hers and
her husband’s bedroom, she paused for a second, her ears
flicking to catch the sounds coming from further down the
hallway…
Smirking just a little more, Patches turned her attention back
to the bedroom door. Rose was singing to herself again, she must
be looking forward to some sort of date with her coltfriend.
Cracking open the door, she wandered to the dresser beside her
bed, her magic enveloping a certain shallow straw hat and
placing it atop her head. With one hoof, she pulled it down over
her face, obscuring her eyes as she then levitated a belt with
two sheathes from its own drawer in her dresser and set it upon
her bed. Another smile spread across her lips as she pulled one
of the weapons from the sheathe, the polished, hooked steel
glinting in even the faintest of light. Giving the kama a quick
little flip in the air, she re-sheathed it before buckling the
belt around her waist, before walking over to the katana that
was mounted on the wall.
This katana never moved from this wall much anymore; she never
had much need for it within her own house, though she still
respected the weapon as much as her own flesh and blood. It hung
from this wall, waiting for days when its master would venture
outside of the house, crossed with the broadsword of her husband
back from the old days of him being a sword for hire. Today was
one of those days which the weapon would be allowed to accompany
her once more. Carefully levitating the weapon off of its
setting, she held it in front of her horizontally, slowly
unsheathing the immaculate steel blade, the folded steel
practically singing a sweet song as it was pulled from its
sheathe. Inspecting the blade with the greatest scrutiny, making
sure that the blade was still as straight as ever, with no signs
of wear or rusting upon it, she said, "It has already been too
long, my friend..."
Patches trailed off as her eyes followed up and down the blade,
breathing in deeply with her little half-smile, and exhaling as
she carefully put the katana back into its sheathe, and then
attaching the sheathe to her belt. What a comforting feeling
this was, to have the familiar weight of both weapons back in
their rightful places, as comforting as a warm, heavy blanket on
a cool day. She would never dream of leaving something this
important to her behind, it was practically a part of her, a
testament to the training she had been put through, and an
extension of her own self. There were no other weapons like
this, this one was unique to her simply because it was hers, and
anything else would feel foreign to her.
She walked down the stairs and saw that Rose had allocated
herself to the living room couch, looking out the back window to
where Slash and his apprentice were working. The young mare
seemed to be pretty lost in observing the later of the two, so
Patches only commented to her in passing, "Don't stay up too
late, sweetie," which was answered with the usual response, "I
won't, mom." Rose was probably answering as automatically as a
parrot repeating words that please its owner for treats, Patches
had a pretty good idea that she and Crimson would not be back
until the A.M. hours. It was how it usually was.
Stopping to get her saddlebags from the closet, she walked out
the back door, nodding once to Slash as he held a hot piece of
metal over the anvil, positioning it as his apprentice struck it
with the hammer. He was teaching right now, so she would not
interrupt his lesson. Besides, these trips had become so regular
and on time, he would know where she was at this hour. With
empty saddlebags across her back, she walked down the road
towards downtown Ponyville, lowering her straw shader over her
eyes a little more as she climbed the slight hill that
overlooked the bustling town centre perfectly. Patches took a
minute to stop and admire the scenery; it wasn't often that she
went out on such a clear day, and there was enough of a breeze
to keep the relatively warm day from becoming unbearably hot.
So the Samareai stood upon the hill, long, jet black mane and
tail waving gently in the wind as she looked towards the
horizon, the sun bathing her light grey coat with its light, but
never coming close to touching her eyes. They remained in the
dark, the emerald green shades of her irises obscured by the
shadows cast by her straw hat, drinking in the scenery of the
small town and the canopies of the Everfree Forest aglow with
the gold of the rising sun. She took a deep breath, drawing it
in at a leisurely pace and closing her eyes. It was all so good,
so perfect and serene, just so... right. Perhaps she could stand
her for another minute or so, it wasn't like she would need to
move anytime soon...
#Post#: 478--------------------------------------------------
Re: A Step Outside
By: Schwambart Date: January 8, 2014, 12:21 am
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Five more steps...Five more steps...
Schwambart plods along slowly, groggily. This is the kind of
morning he wishes he could get up in time for more often. The
sun shining off the morning dew, birds singing like out of some
kind of fantasy. Everything around him is beautiful, even the
road he walks seeming to have just grown naturally into the
countryside. It belongs there, as he belongs on it for the
moment, surrounded by his idea of the beauty of nature.
Five more steps...Five...more steps...
He doesn't notice any of it. The green pegasus keeps on going,
head not even raised anymore, fatigued beyond his belief. Who
knew moving by yourself could take so long? The medium wagon
behind him creaks with the harness attached to him around his
black vest, groaning under its not really that impressive load.
Even the smallest load, however, becomes unbearable with enough
time and effort spent on it. And he'd been walking for hours.
Traveling for days, but only walking...how long has it been?
It's...what time is it? He lifts his head and looks up before
back down again. Yeah, he'd gotten up an hour or two before
this the day before and walked...and walked...and walked...He'd
almost stopped for the night again like he did the previous
night and before that, but he was sick of sleeping out in the
great outdoors, as nice as it was, and figured if he kept going
through the night he'd be able to reach his new home without too
much trouble.
5 more...steps...5 more steps...
Well, that'll show him. His pace had gradually slowed overnight
until it reached the crawl he was traveling at now, his body
crying out for respite that he needs. When he began feeling
fatigued, he kept telling himself one more mile. One more mile.
Then that grew too long and he started telling himself 200 more
yards. 200 more yards. His goals kept decaying until it was
all he could to to keep aiming for the next 5 steps. The next 5
steps.
5 more...5 more...
His glasses hang off his face, barely kept on any longer.
They're the good kind, though, the kind that hangs on almost as
much by the pressure of the arms as much as any kind of
fastening on it. One of the last things his parents had bought
for him before he headed out to live on his own, the last being
the small house that they'd had the good fortune to hear about
for sale in far off Ponyville. It was quite the trek there, but
to pay for the transport of the meager furniture to it would
have been more than he was willing to let them do, so he'd begun
his long journey. If only he could fly there, or run without
the burden of his wagon, it would have been so much quicker. As
it is, though...
5...5 more steps...
His hoof meets an incline. Again. Another hill. Is this the
last one? He doesn't know. He's crossed so many recently.
That grass to the side of the road is looking pretty soft,
actually. Maybe he could just...take five minutes and...
No. He's almost there. So close. Maybe. He has to believe
it. It has to be nearby. He begins climbing the hill, slowing
even more. Just five more steps. Five more. Five...four
more...
#Post#: 479--------------------------------------------------
Re: A Step Outside
By: Patches Date: January 8, 2014, 1:27 am
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The pony standing atop of the hill finally heaved a large sigh.
That was probably enough standing around for now, she was still
on the road after all, and from the sounds of it, there would
soon be wagon traffic coming up the same road. Strange that
somepony would start pulling a wagon at this hour to go into
town, but surely it wasn't uncommon. Perhaps the pony just
wished to beat the hoof traffic that tended to come out this
way? No matter, the day would still be here by the time Patches
came back this way. Maybe Slash would finish with the forge
earlier today, and seeing that Crimson and Rose would be out of
the house immediately after that, it would be a good time for
them to share some time together...
First thing comes first however; she was going to have to let
the pony with the wagon overtake her at the top of the hill. It
sounded as if they were both heading in the same direction, and
even though she was far ahead, the wagon would pick up a good
deal of speed going back down the hill, and it was probably best
to get out of the way now while she still can. Stepping sideways
onto the soft, green grass, she looked back down the hill at the
wagon... that happened to be plodding along at such a slow pace.
She exhaled deeply once more and wiped a hoof down her face,
taking a closer look at the wagon and its driver from the top of
the hill.
Patches hummed to herself as she readjusted her shader to cast
its shadow further down her face; the driver looked to be in
rough shape, if the glasses that hung from his face looked to be
of any indication, and his head was cast downward, which was odd
simply because one would tend to look up to see where they were
walking. Most likely the worst offence, and the biggest hint
however, was how his hooves practically dragged as they moved.
If Patches had done that around her Master, not only would she
be punished heavily for moving so slowly, but her master would
have been simply insulted and appalled by her apparent lack of
respect for the form he was teaching. To sully any martial art
with such slow, sleepy movement was the equivalent to slapping
one's teacher in the face.
If this pony was doing it for any reason though, she would have
to hazard that he had simply packed more things than he could
hope to pull behind him. It would make sense, since he was
slowing down. Patches started a resolute and brisk trot down the
hill towards the wagon pony, slowing herself to a stop just in
front of and off to the side of him. Surely he could have seen
her coming down the hill--she made no attempt to hide that from
him, unless he was just that tired. It was a face of exhaustion
if she had ever seen one.
Keeping her distance just a little just in case she did happen
to startle the stallion somehow, she spoke up in an even tone,
"Excuse the intrusion sir, but are you alright? Your step is
weary and you are looking a little worse for wear," she
continued to watch him, waiting to see what he would do before
offering, "did you need some help getting over the hill?"
#Post#: 480--------------------------------------------------
Re: A Step Outside
By: Schwambart Date: January 8, 2014, 2:23 am
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4 more...just 4 more steps...then 4 more...then...
It takes Schwambart a moment to realize that somepony was
speaking to him, completing 2 slow circuits of his 4 step sets
before blinking sleepily and raising his head confusedly,
stopping in his tracks. He squints at the gray blob in front of
him, his glasses dangling below eye level. He shakes his head
with a yawn, nearly dislodging them despite their hold on the
sides of his head. A wing flips out over his head and drags
them back into position, giving him view of...still a gray blob,
his vision blurred by sleep and not just his weak eyes.
"G'd ev'n...mrnin', mad'm..." he slurs out to her with a sleepy
smile. It is morning, right? Or is the sun setting? He
doesn't remember anymore. But...what had she said? Oh, he
can't remember...something about...getting over it...Hm? Had
she offended him and was telling him to put it in his past? But
he had just met...whoever. Maybe...he's in her way. "'m I
in...y'r way, mad'm? 'm sry...lemme jus...m've f'r y'..."
He lifts a forehoof to rub at his eyes sleepily. As soon as he
does, though, the wagon he's strapped to begins rolling
backwards, his sore limbs unable to keep him steady with his
weakening of his stance, his hooves dragging along the ground as
the wheels and weight do what wheels with weight on an incline
plane have wont to do. At least he hadn't made much progress
upwards, so it doesn't drag him too far back, but it still sets
him several feet from the foot of the hill again.
When his backwards progress stops, he looks discouraged at the
extra distance he has to traverse now. Maybe...maybe he won't
try the hill again...instead, his eyes are drawn to the grass
again. Maybe...five minutes...
No. He might be so close. Right? Still, the side of the road
offers a different alternative as well. What if he just goes
around the hill? That could work...it's not too far out of his
way...and it means that he won't be in the blob's way. Nodding
decisively, he puts his fourth hoof back down with a grunt and
begins the tedious process of turning his wagon, 4 steps at a
time. "4 more steps...4 m're st'ps..." he begins repeating
under his breath, his words slurring as they lost all meaning to
him except that he knows that if he doesn't keep saying them
something...terrible will happen? Maybe...
(If Patches wants to react before the end of the post, feel free
to. I'll edit/clear out some of the details accordingly if
you'd like.)
#Post#: 492--------------------------------------------------
Re: A Step Outside
By: Patches Date: January 8, 2014, 5:53 pm
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Patches blinked in confusion at the pegasus’ slurred words. Up
close, she could see just a little more of the pegasus’
predicament, and it was definitely a unique one. If the bleary,
red eyes coupled with the slurred speech gave a hint of
anything, it was that either this pony had not slept well, if at
all, over the past night, or he slept soundly in a totally
inebriated state, and was now starting to feel the after effects
of what she could only guess was a night of partying. Whichever
one it was, he was now blocking the road going up, and it didn’t
look like he was going to be able to go much farther, “Yes...
good morning to you as well, but you aren’t in my way, you just
look-- hey wait don’t--”
Her warning was cut short and she lifted a hoof and lunged
forward slightly out of concern as he reached up to rub at his
eyes, resulting in the wagon pulling him several feet back down
the hill. Thankfully he wasn’t near the top of the hill,
otherwise this could have ended much worse. Of course, that also
meant that should he even attempt to tackle this hill again, the
chances are good that the exact same scenario would happen once
more. Perhaps it would be better to simply help this pony over
the hill than to let him go around the long way, and if she was
going to do that, she better decide quickly, because he was
already looking as though he was turning himself around.
Patches followed along beside one of the arms of the wagon,
trying to get his attention as best as she could and maybe snap
him out of his stupor, “Sir? I was asking if you are okay…?”
What in Celestia’s name did he mean by four more steps? He just
kept repeating it, or slurring that same phrase. Was he truly
that out of sorts? “Sir?” She asked one more time before
deciding that perhaps she should try something different.
Raising a hoof, she rapped sharply on the wooden arm that he was
pulling the wagon by, making a loud and sudden knocking noise.
“You need to stop and focus for a second, you look as though you
are going to collapse in the middle of the road. What’s your
name and where do you live? I can walk you to your house if need
be.” She looked him directly in the eye when she could get the
chance, her expression that of utter seriousness.
#Post#: 493--------------------------------------------------
Re: A Step Outside
By: Schwambart Date: January 8, 2014, 6:29 pm
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Schwambart just keeps turning his wagon as the blob keeps
speaking to him, its words meaning nothing to him. Why was he
turning? He doesn't remember anymore. He just knows that he
was turning, so that's what he'll keep doing.
He's practically turned a full circle when a loud rap comes from
behind him, causing him to jump in surprise. "Huh, whuh!?" he
cries out, straightening and becoming more alert for a moment.
"Whazzat?" He looks back to where the sound came from. There's
that blob again, but...more defined. With a giant triangle for
a head. Does that make sense? Maybe. Does it matter? It says
he needs to focus for a moment. Okay. Focus.
Name. What's his name? Right, that. "Ar' Cap'l, Shamb'rt,
m'l'dy, at yr srvs," he intones with a wobbly little bow and
another sleepy, deranged smile. The blob is a mare, right? It
sounds like one. He thinks. "'m fine, just gotta...get to..."
He furrows his brow in concentration. What was the place
called? "...Ponevil. Movin' in'..." His ears begin drooping
again as he tips his head back toward his wagon, seeing the road
go up a hill. Is that a hill he's gone down, or one he's going
up? He looks confusedly between that and the road in the other
direction. His head turns back between the two directions a few
times. He recently went down one, soooo...that means he just
came from the hill. So he's turned around. Perfect. He heaves
one more yawn, then begins turning away from the hill to resume
his journey. Can't be too much longer, can it?
#Post#: 495--------------------------------------------------
Re: A Step Outside
By: Patches Date: January 8, 2014, 7:39 pm
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After that absolutely embarrassing attempt at turning around and
getting his bearings, Patches was somewhat relieved that she
managed to at least get the attention of the wagon driving
pegasus. Maybe now she could actually cooperate with him and get
him home before he decided to do something foolish and reckless.
Even if he was in the low-energy state that he was, he was
pulling something heavy that could be potentially dangerous. It
didn't stop him from his mumbling, and it was difficult for
Patches to strain her hearing to understand him. At least she
got his name and general destination too, and thankfully, he was
already in the town that he apparently needed to be in, so her
job would be much easier.
"Well," she replied after a relieved sigh, "mister Ar Cappa
Shamburt, it is a pleasure to meet you as well, and I believe
the place you are looking for is Ponyville which is..." she
trailed off when she realized that he had already started
turning around once more, this time going in the other
direction, going back the way he came. "Just... over this
hill..." she finished her sentence in a quiet combination of
surprise and shock. This stallion was definitely out of sorts,
and it was only going to get worse as the day went on. Patches
still had groceries to get, and messing around with a delusional
pony wasn't how she planned on spending her day. Still, her
patience continued, and she once more trotted quickly to get in
front of Shamburt before he could get himself turned around
again.
Speaking slowly and enunciating her words clearly so that he
could have an easier time understanding, she said "Shamburt,
'Ponevil', otherwise known as 'Ponyville', is that way. In fact,
it is just over that hill. You need to get some sleep. Whether
you are hungover or not, it is the best thing for you right now,
and you can sleep all day at the house you are moving into." She
paused for a second, "Sleep sounds good, yes? If you want to get
to sleep faster without a wagon strapped to your back, tell me
your house address, let me take your wagon for you, and we can
have a nice little chat on the way there about why you are
pulling this thing when you are so exhausted, mmkay?"
#Post#: 498--------------------------------------------------
Re: A Step Outside
By: Schwambart Date: January 8, 2014, 8:34 pm
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There's the blob again. Man, he must really be in its way. He
begins trying to apologize again before it tells him that he's
going the wrong way. He turns and squints at the hill. Surely
he'd just gone down it...
But then it says the magical word. The most wonderful word in
existence right now. Sleeeeeeeeeeep. He quickly turns to look
back at it as it talks, focusing intently on its words to
understand just how it could obtain this wonderful commodity.
He'd rather not buy it on the black market if he could help it.
Get to house. Sleep all day. Sounds easy enough. Why didn't
he think of that? Clearly this blob came from heaven to guide
him. "Sleeeep...yes, sleep..." He squints at the blob again
while he listens to the rest of the message. Address...give her
the wagon...chat..."Sunds luvli...mammm..."
Address. Address. What is it? Address..."Nun sic...er...sic
nun..." he slurs out as he begins working at the harness straps.
Was it 96, or 69? Or...was there supposed to be a 4 in there?
And what came next? Come on, 3 numbers. Think, think. "...Nun
for sicsss...? Mayb...?" And the street name...what was...Oh,
he has it written down somewhere. Probably. It sounds like
something he'd do. Addresses weren't his strong suit. Neither
were strings of numbers, though 3 numbers was pretty short. It
seems awfully long right now, though. Maybe once he was out of
this harness he could grab it out of his vest...if it's in
there. Maybe it's in his bag...or...
The harness comes undone with a snick and he takes a deep breath
before stepping forward with a sigh. "Tha's goo..." he says
before promptly falling forward onto the grass. He doesn't cry
out or anything, just falls over, hindquarters sticking upward
and hind legs still acting as though he's walking. After a few
seconds they stop and they fall sideways. Y'know, nevermind.
Getting up would take too much effort. "Nvrmnd...g'n't..." he
mumbles, closing his eyes.
#Post#: 509--------------------------------------------------
Re: A Step Outside
By: Patches Date: January 9, 2014, 3:39 pm
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Maybe he was absolutely exhausted, judging by how well he took
to the idea of sleep. In fact, he took to it so well, that not
five seconds after he unhitched himself from his wagon did he
collapse face first into the side of the road. Wincing a little
in what she could only imagine hurt quite a bit, Patches made
ready to try to help him up, that is until she heard a distinct,
nasal sound coming from the tuft of grass that he had rested his
head on. He couldn't seriously be...? Yeah, he was.
Well wasn't this just an unexpected twist to her goal of helping
this poor sod. If her patience had been as short as most
ponies', she would have called it off right here and continued
on with what she was doing, maybe notify the town guard that
there was another drunkard in the gutter again, but fortunately
for mister Shamburt, it was against Patches' Samareai Code of
Honour to leave a helpless individual in harm's way. She had no
idea how long he was going to be sleeping there, but she had an
idea that if he was left unattended, it could be several hours
until somepony else happened along to wake him up. Glancing back
at the wagon that he pulled with him, even she could tell that
it was packed with a few things that would be seen as favorable
to the more dishonest eye.
It was her duty to at least get this pony to a safer place, but
what was that place? She would dare not bring a stranger back to
her own home, as there was no room in her shophouse as it was.
She could take him to the local inn and set him up for a short
stay there until he came to his senses, but she had no money
with her to spare for that kind of thing, nor did she want to
risk assuming that he did as well. She couldn't take him home
either, since he only gave her the first three numbers of his
address. A six, a four, and a nine. He didn't seem too sure of
himself either, so that could have been a variety of different
house numbers, and no street name was given either, so that
would narrow her search down to the entirety of the Ponyville
Residential District. If only she could get him awake again...
Walking around the wagon and up next to him, she gave him a firm
poke with her foreleg, followed by a shake. Nothing, he was out
cold. Looking around to see if there was anyone who could
probably help her, only to find that there was no pony on this
street, she noticed something on top of the wagon, what looked
like a bedroll. After faint questions of how far this pony
traveled came and went in her mind, she walked back up to the
wagon, crouched down, and jumped up on top of the things, nimbly
stepping on the more sturdy pieces of furniture. Yes, her
suspicions were true, there was a bedroll and a flat, feather
pillow up here. Perfect, she knew just how she was going to deal
with this one.
Looking down at the sleeping pegasus, she grit her teeth in
concentration and levitated him up, as smoothly as she could, to
the top of the wagon, setting him up against his bedroll. There,
now she could move both him and the cart, now to take him
someplace she could easily get him awake. Jumping back down, she
hitched herself up to his wagon in his place, turning the wagon
back around to go back up the hill, and started pulling. Her
hooves dug into the packed dirt as she hauled the wagon up the
hill, but after some time, she was back on top of it, and in
even less time, she brought it back down the other side. There,
she saved him at least an hour of travel right there, now for
the little detour.
Turning down a less traveled road, she brought the wagon into a
small clearing, and in the middle of this clearing was a short,
cylindrical stone structure with a little thatched roof over it,
with a bucket hanging within it. Unhitching herself from the
wagon by the well, she levitated him back down from the wagon,
propping him against the well so that he was sitting up. Kicking
the release on the lever, she dropped the bucket into the well,
with a splash echoing up from the inky dark a few second later.
Slowly, she began turning the crank to bring the water back up,
carefully watching the Shamburt to see if he would wake up
before then. The bucket reached the top, nothing yet. Walking
back around, she took the liberty of removing the glasses from
his face before saying, "Sorry in advance but..." upending the
bucket over his head, the icy cold water running off his head,
down his back, and over his face, "you need to wake up, pronto."
#Post#: 510--------------------------------------------------
Re: A Step Outside
By: Schwambart Date: January 9, 2014, 4:33 pm
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No matter how hard he tries, Schwambart just can't open his
mouth. It's being held closed from below by some kind of
pleasantly firm...table? He's sitting at a table. What a
strange table. It seems to be set against the wall. Who sits
there? Oh, right, he is. With his chin on it. And he just
CAN'T DRINK HIS LEMONADE!! Whenever he tries to lift his head,
the table lifts with it, spilling the orange juice onto the
ceiling until he's all out. A waiter comes by to ask if he'd
like more wine, but he shakes his head, spilling the glass
upward.
For his insolence, he's promptly tossed out the window, falling
softly onto a bed of feathers. Oh man, he's out of feathers!
Who plucked him!? He'll never be princess now! He struggles
fitfully, trying to stick them back on, but the bed is shaking
until he tumbles through the air again, this time onto a
trampoline. Then he bounces up until a chair sets under him and
he's approached by a blobby vision of beauty...with a triangle
for a head. "Hey there," she says huskily as she walks closer,
eyes set in...is that Helvetica font? "Starry inna dance?"
He's nods his head and reaches out his hoof while she reaches
for him and...
"Not the bologna!" he cries, flicking his eyes open and sitting
forward quickly. "Anything but...the..." He blinks and surveys
the scene around him. "...socks?" He's wet. Why is he wet?
What happened to the road? His quick glance tells him that his
wagon is nearby (or a blurry replica of it, anyway), it's
morning, and that blob from his dream is standing over him with
another smaller blob. Glasses...he reaches his hoof up to push
them back up higher onto his nose. It isn't until his hoof is
against his eyes that he realizes that they're not on at all.
He panics and darts his head around. Where are they? Of
course, being stripped of his visual aids makes it kind of hard
to look for them.
Hm. Maybe that blob knows where they are. "Uh...morning,
uh..." He squints at it. The blob defines itself more,
becoming the shape of an older mare, with a cone-shaped hats
designed for shade rather than aesthetics...well, the aesthetics
he's used to anyway. He wouldn't mind one of those himself,
really. Kinda bright. "...ma'am. Erm..." He wipes some of
the water off of his face and squints at her again. "You seen
my glasses? Black, rectangular frames...kinda glasses-ish..."
Glasses-ish? That's the best he can come up with? He's about
to apologize for that until the object of his inquiry floats to
him wrapped in a white glow. "Thanks much," he says, reaching
out with one wing to grab them. It ends up being a stretch as
well as a take as he extends some of his other limbs as well.
Oh his goodness his hooves are sore. With a groan and a smile,
he places his rectangular frames on his face and surveys his
surroundings again.
Hm. Not familiar. What had he been doing last...right,
walking. Walking and...didn't remember coming to a well, or
setting himself down, or taking off his glasses...Um..."Excuse
me, madam, but could you possibly tell me..." He trails off as
his eyes return to hers, then give her a cursory once-over.
THAT is a long blade. Curved. Sheathed, at least. A katana.
And that...not as up on the less common foreign-type weapons,
but...that's called a...karma? That doesn't sound quite right,
but he's not going to fuss too much on the details. He swallows
nervously as he raises his eyes back up to the mare's face.
"...uh, where I am? I'm, uh...not quite sure..."
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