Post by Bardigan on Jul 30, 2014 1:29:26 GMT -5
Blueblood's rude awakening for the next day of work was an hour ago. He is here, still at Sweet Apple Acres, eyes bloodshot and mane unwashed, standing in the middle of the orchard looking up at the nearest tree. His mouth is hanging agape, and he can still taste the breakfast forced down his throat. Apples. So. Many. Apples. Apples to eat. Apples to kick down. Apples apples apples. "Ugh," he groans, wondering what's going to break first: his pride or his distaste at being here on a disgusting farm.
Mac isn't far off, hauling over a cart full of apple baskets in a deep clunking rumble until he stops next to Blueblood staring agape at the apple trees. At the very least Blueblood can be relieved that AJ is nowhere to be found, meaning her vengeful to-do list should be at a minimum. Today, a more typical job found at the orchard. "Y'all ready 'fer some good apple buckin'? he asks with a little grin as he unhitches himself and makes his way around back of the cart, hefting an impressive stack of baskets from the cart and onto his back as if it were nothing. "This here's a might cleaner work." he offers with Blueblood's almost trance-like silence.
"Apple bucking," Blueblood slurs from sleepiness. "I... I suppose. It *is* cleaner work after all." He turns and watches Mac pull all his baskets out, and glances down at his own not too scrawny chest. How is he being shown up so easily? Oh, right. No magic. Blueblood harumpfs and walks up to the cart, taking an equal amount of baskets into his mouth and preparing to /lift/... right before he drops all of them onto the ground with a gasp. He quickly looks up at Big Mac with a 'dont say ANYTHING!' look, and then calmly picks up just one basket. Even that, however, is an overdone chore with much heaving and hemming and hawing and straining to get over his shoulders. "AGH!" he gasps as it settles on his body. "There. All RIGHT. Fine. I am ready. I... I think. Oh Celestia. I'm already working up a sweat. I'm sweating. Ew."
Big_Mac drops off the stack not far from a tree. leaving the stack almost as tall as him. Upon returning, he comes back to the sight of Blueblood fighting with a similarily sized stack that hes about to comment on when hes quieted from the matter. His mouth remains hanging open for a moment and sghs when Blueblood goes to make his attemtp, followed by the stallion wincing when the prince crumples beneat hthe weight. He shakes his head a little and lets out a faint little sigh as he steps over to help pick up some of the baskets. "Good try." is all he says, trying to give an encouraging smile. "Reckon it takes a bit of practice though." is all he says in regards to the princes attempt.
"I don't know *how* anypony even *manages* this. Where are the rest of the workers?" Blueblood says, finding energy in something to gripe about. He looks at the nearest tree and shakes his head at it. "You can't expect me to believe that you and your sister are literally the only ponies who work this farm. I mean, just... just look at it!" He turns around and gives the tree a firm whack with his hoof. It does nothing but make him wince and try to kick the tree /again/ for revenge. This just makes him start whining and sit down to hold his hoof. "I think your sister is trying to make fun of me," he admits outright.
Big_Mac shakes his head a little and helps to pick up some of the baskets, at least making the stack a bit smaller by the time Bluebood stops fussing long enugh to help him with the rest. He drops the rest of his stack off near another tree, just in time to see him kick, then whack another tree in anger and revenge, prompting the big stallion to wince a little at the poor foorm. "More help cuts int' the profits an' we manage jut fine on our own, workin' together." he explains, pausing just long enough to smrik. "Besides, y'all /are/ th help." he grins.
Blueblood grumbles as he gets back on his hooves, looking back at the tree with all the Princely disdain he can muster. The tree just sways a little in the breeze, nonchalant and indifferent. 'Oh, Blueblood,' he can hear it say. 'What a silly little pony you are, thinking you can do something useful with your life.' "I'll show *you,*" he vows in a sibilant whisper, and turns haplessly to Big Mac, petulantly stomping his hoof. "Well? If I *am* the help, are you going to show me proper technique or not?"
Big_Mac glances between Blueblood and the tree as both seem to share a moment. Though, he would admit the tree is swaying a bit defiantly, so there is that. With some skilled hoofwork, he unstacks and practically kick-tosses the baskets beneath the tree in what look like a haphazard arrangement, but upon he approaches, he gives a few specific little nudges to get them /just/ right. "Eeyup." he says to the question before turning and with one mighty hoof gives a hard, but otherwise effortless looking buck to the tree, causing the ripe apples to fall and the ones still needing time to remain. "Tha's how y' do it." he grins.
"Nyeh h'n eh nyeh nyeh," Blueblood mutters under his breath. Just kick the tree, Blueblood! Just kick the tree, it'll work! Fine. He approaches the next tree in line, quite certain he's going to spend all day out here just like he did all day last time and get all sweaty and gross all over again. He lines up with it, looking it up and down, putting his hooves in front of his face to line up exactly where he's going to put his hoof. He frames the spot, peering between his hooves, and nods. Right... about... "There," he decides. "This is where I shall strike the tree." He turns around and assumes a posture he thinks mimicked Big Mac, rears up... and...!
Bop!
A shiver runs up the tree, and a single solitary apple drops into the basket.
Big_Mac tilts his head a little as Blueblood lines himself up, watching curiously and taking a few steps closer. "Y'all might wanna try puttin' both hooves int' it, takes a bit of practice an'.. well, strength t' one-hoof it.." hexplains with a light smile as hecontinues to watch the other stallion se his hooves to line up the buck. "O'course, 'aint y'all forgettin' somethin?" he asks with a glance down at the grass around the tree.
Blueblood stands and stares in amazement at the apple he managed to drop. He turns to Big Mac, and apparently completely ignored everything he said. "Did you see that?" he asks, and starts to breath alarmingly quickly. This turns into a gasping laugh. "Did you see that?! I got it! I got it!" He pounces on the apple and brings it up in his hooves, holding it like some ancient Picolto masterpiece, grinning madly. "Hehehehe... sweet, sweet victory! Look at this beautiful thing! DO YOU SEE THIS, MARBLE?!" he shouts, holding the apple aloft and looking at Ponyville. "I CAN DO THIS! I AM A PRINCE AMONG PRINCES! I HAVE ACHIEVED VICTORY OVER THE ARBOREAL DEMOGRAPHIC!" He whirls around to Big Mac. "I GOT it, Big Mac! I got this apple! This one... this one... single... solitary..." His ears droop first. Then his mane. Then the rest of him as he looks up at the tree still full of apples. Grumping and grumbling, he snatches a basket and tosses it underneath the tree. "Don't tell the orange one about that little outburst."
Big_Mac takes a few somewhat concerned steps back once the apple falls and Blueblood begins to... well, go crazy as far as he can tell. Of course, from about a quarter of the way through, Mac looks up at the still bristling with shiny red apples then back to Blueblood for a moment, then back to the tree until Blueblood catches on as well. He lets out a light chuckle. "Reckon that depends on how much complainin' and fussin' y'all do." he says in a casually forboding sort of way. In a way that only the eldest of two sisters can manage. "Congratulations though, just got a couple hundred more apples t' go." he quips as he begins hefting baskets onto his back and loading the emptied cart with them.
Blueblood whimpers upon hearing of 'a couple hundred more' apples. Why not a couple? Why not just the one? WHY MUST HIS LIFE BE SO DIFFICULT? Curse agriculture, you're out to get him! Blueblood sighs and kicks the tree harder, with both hooves this time. This time he gets three apples. "Ow!" he whines. "My poor, sensitive hooves... and you do this all day? Every day? This is your life, is it?" he asks Big Mac.
Big_Mac watches for a moment as the prince tries again, giving a deep nod and an an enthusiastic pat on the back as three total fall at once, even if one does miss the basket. Mac does however seem legitimately sincere with his praise. He looks up at Bluebloods question before giving a deep nod. "Eeyup. An' on top of hundreds of apples, there's hundreds of trees." he ssays with a motion of his hoof, giving a clear panoramic of the orchard. "Gonna try again?" he eventually asks, his voice filled with expectations of giving up.
Blueblood feels something crack under Mac's enthusiastic hoof. He tries not to collapse into a sobbing wreck, which would be his usual reaction to all these environmental stressors. Dirt, sweat, heat, getting whacked on the back, and hooves as sore as all get out. But then the question, and the unspoken addendum, comes. Blueblood's ears flatten. He glares down at the apples on the ground. Four. Of thousands. A mind-numbing, grueling, horrible task fit only for peasants. And he has to do it. Yes, he *is* going to give up. Eventually, maybe. Tomorrow. A few more trees from now. One apple from now. But as long as the memory of Marble's words are in his head... "I'll show you a prince of nothing," he whispers, and to answer Big Mac he stares at the giant stallion, turns around, and bucks the tree again. A few more apples fall than before. Not many, but a few.
Mac isn't far off, hauling over a cart full of apple baskets in a deep clunking rumble until he stops next to Blueblood staring agape at the apple trees. At the very least Blueblood can be relieved that AJ is nowhere to be found, meaning her vengeful to-do list should be at a minimum. Today, a more typical job found at the orchard. "Y'all ready 'fer some good apple buckin'? he asks with a little grin as he unhitches himself and makes his way around back of the cart, hefting an impressive stack of baskets from the cart and onto his back as if it were nothing. "This here's a might cleaner work." he offers with Blueblood's almost trance-like silence.
"Apple bucking," Blueblood slurs from sleepiness. "I... I suppose. It *is* cleaner work after all." He turns and watches Mac pull all his baskets out, and glances down at his own not too scrawny chest. How is he being shown up so easily? Oh, right. No magic. Blueblood harumpfs and walks up to the cart, taking an equal amount of baskets into his mouth and preparing to /lift/... right before he drops all of them onto the ground with a gasp. He quickly looks up at Big Mac with a 'dont say ANYTHING!' look, and then calmly picks up just one basket. Even that, however, is an overdone chore with much heaving and hemming and hawing and straining to get over his shoulders. "AGH!" he gasps as it settles on his body. "There. All RIGHT. Fine. I am ready. I... I think. Oh Celestia. I'm already working up a sweat. I'm sweating. Ew."
Big_Mac drops off the stack not far from a tree. leaving the stack almost as tall as him. Upon returning, he comes back to the sight of Blueblood fighting with a similarily sized stack that hes about to comment on when hes quieted from the matter. His mouth remains hanging open for a moment and sghs when Blueblood goes to make his attemtp, followed by the stallion wincing when the prince crumples beneat hthe weight. He shakes his head a little and lets out a faint little sigh as he steps over to help pick up some of the baskets. "Good try." is all he says, trying to give an encouraging smile. "Reckon it takes a bit of practice though." is all he says in regards to the princes attempt.
"I don't know *how* anypony even *manages* this. Where are the rest of the workers?" Blueblood says, finding energy in something to gripe about. He looks at the nearest tree and shakes his head at it. "You can't expect me to believe that you and your sister are literally the only ponies who work this farm. I mean, just... just look at it!" He turns around and gives the tree a firm whack with his hoof. It does nothing but make him wince and try to kick the tree /again/ for revenge. This just makes him start whining and sit down to hold his hoof. "I think your sister is trying to make fun of me," he admits outright.
Big_Mac shakes his head a little and helps to pick up some of the baskets, at least making the stack a bit smaller by the time Bluebood stops fussing long enugh to help him with the rest. He drops the rest of his stack off near another tree, just in time to see him kick, then whack another tree in anger and revenge, prompting the big stallion to wince a little at the poor foorm. "More help cuts int' the profits an' we manage jut fine on our own, workin' together." he explains, pausing just long enough to smrik. "Besides, y'all /are/ th help." he grins.
Blueblood grumbles as he gets back on his hooves, looking back at the tree with all the Princely disdain he can muster. The tree just sways a little in the breeze, nonchalant and indifferent. 'Oh, Blueblood,' he can hear it say. 'What a silly little pony you are, thinking you can do something useful with your life.' "I'll show *you,*" he vows in a sibilant whisper, and turns haplessly to Big Mac, petulantly stomping his hoof. "Well? If I *am* the help, are you going to show me proper technique or not?"
Big_Mac glances between Blueblood and the tree as both seem to share a moment. Though, he would admit the tree is swaying a bit defiantly, so there is that. With some skilled hoofwork, he unstacks and practically kick-tosses the baskets beneath the tree in what look like a haphazard arrangement, but upon he approaches, he gives a few specific little nudges to get them /just/ right. "Eeyup." he says to the question before turning and with one mighty hoof gives a hard, but otherwise effortless looking buck to the tree, causing the ripe apples to fall and the ones still needing time to remain. "Tha's how y' do it." he grins.
"Nyeh h'n eh nyeh nyeh," Blueblood mutters under his breath. Just kick the tree, Blueblood! Just kick the tree, it'll work! Fine. He approaches the next tree in line, quite certain he's going to spend all day out here just like he did all day last time and get all sweaty and gross all over again. He lines up with it, looking it up and down, putting his hooves in front of his face to line up exactly where he's going to put his hoof. He frames the spot, peering between his hooves, and nods. Right... about... "There," he decides. "This is where I shall strike the tree." He turns around and assumes a posture he thinks mimicked Big Mac, rears up... and...!
Bop!
A shiver runs up the tree, and a single solitary apple drops into the basket.
Big_Mac tilts his head a little as Blueblood lines himself up, watching curiously and taking a few steps closer. "Y'all might wanna try puttin' both hooves int' it, takes a bit of practice an'.. well, strength t' one-hoof it.." hexplains with a light smile as hecontinues to watch the other stallion se his hooves to line up the buck. "O'course, 'aint y'all forgettin' somethin?" he asks with a glance down at the grass around the tree.
Blueblood stands and stares in amazement at the apple he managed to drop. He turns to Big Mac, and apparently completely ignored everything he said. "Did you see that?" he asks, and starts to breath alarmingly quickly. This turns into a gasping laugh. "Did you see that?! I got it! I got it!" He pounces on the apple and brings it up in his hooves, holding it like some ancient Picolto masterpiece, grinning madly. "Hehehehe... sweet, sweet victory! Look at this beautiful thing! DO YOU SEE THIS, MARBLE?!" he shouts, holding the apple aloft and looking at Ponyville. "I CAN DO THIS! I AM A PRINCE AMONG PRINCES! I HAVE ACHIEVED VICTORY OVER THE ARBOREAL DEMOGRAPHIC!" He whirls around to Big Mac. "I GOT it, Big Mac! I got this apple! This one... this one... single... solitary..." His ears droop first. Then his mane. Then the rest of him as he looks up at the tree still full of apples. Grumping and grumbling, he snatches a basket and tosses it underneath the tree. "Don't tell the orange one about that little outburst."
Big_Mac takes a few somewhat concerned steps back once the apple falls and Blueblood begins to... well, go crazy as far as he can tell. Of course, from about a quarter of the way through, Mac looks up at the still bristling with shiny red apples then back to Blueblood for a moment, then back to the tree until Blueblood catches on as well. He lets out a light chuckle. "Reckon that depends on how much complainin' and fussin' y'all do." he says in a casually forboding sort of way. In a way that only the eldest of two sisters can manage. "Congratulations though, just got a couple hundred more apples t' go." he quips as he begins hefting baskets onto his back and loading the emptied cart with them.
Blueblood whimpers upon hearing of 'a couple hundred more' apples. Why not a couple? Why not just the one? WHY MUST HIS LIFE BE SO DIFFICULT? Curse agriculture, you're out to get him! Blueblood sighs and kicks the tree harder, with both hooves this time. This time he gets three apples. "Ow!" he whines. "My poor, sensitive hooves... and you do this all day? Every day? This is your life, is it?" he asks Big Mac.
Big_Mac watches for a moment as the prince tries again, giving a deep nod and an an enthusiastic pat on the back as three total fall at once, even if one does miss the basket. Mac does however seem legitimately sincere with his praise. He looks up at Bluebloods question before giving a deep nod. "Eeyup. An' on top of hundreds of apples, there's hundreds of trees." he ssays with a motion of his hoof, giving a clear panoramic of the orchard. "Gonna try again?" he eventually asks, his voice filled with expectations of giving up.
Blueblood feels something crack under Mac's enthusiastic hoof. He tries not to collapse into a sobbing wreck, which would be his usual reaction to all these environmental stressors. Dirt, sweat, heat, getting whacked on the back, and hooves as sore as all get out. But then the question, and the unspoken addendum, comes. Blueblood's ears flatten. He glares down at the apples on the ground. Four. Of thousands. A mind-numbing, grueling, horrible task fit only for peasants. And he has to do it. Yes, he *is* going to give up. Eventually, maybe. Tomorrow. A few more trees from now. One apple from now. But as long as the memory of Marble's words are in his head... "I'll show you a prince of nothing," he whispers, and to answer Big Mac he stares at the giant stallion, turns around, and bucks the tree again. A few more apples fall than before. Not many, but a few.