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Description
Based on a chat with sithking-zero. Scootaloo is best hat.
She found him in one of the towers, tucked away far from the formalities and sitting on an old, ugly couch that was straining under him. She could have sworn she heard it squeal in protest. One of the many things she had found she shared with the Spartan was a distaste for ceremony, and she had often hidden herself away in such places when she couldn’t stand the sea of sycophantic nobles any longer.
He was not alone though. The Cutie Mark Crusaders had been dragged along to the ball as well, and like John, had managed to slip away. They had made themselves comfortable on him, Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom nestled against his sides, while Scootaloo had managed to make her way to his shoulders. Luna smiled slightly to herself. She always loved seeing them with him this way, especially Sweetie. The sight always assured her that she had made the right choice with him.
She sidled up to the couch, and Chief gently turned his head to meet her, giving a slight nod.
“So,” she began, a hint of merriment in her voice, “enjoying yourself?”
“I’m not sure what you mean.”
“There seems to be something on your head, Sir Chief.”
He looked up, tilting his head back slightly and forcing Scootaloo to get a better grip.
“You mean my hat?”
He was as stoic as ever, betraying no emotion. She could have sworn she saw the ghost of a smile behind that golden visor, however.
“I’m fairly sure that’s a filly.”
“No, I’m his hat.”
Scootaloo interrupted, finally managing to get a good grip. She was beaming. She was having as much fun with the game as any of them. Luna couldn’t help but keep her own smile from showing now.
“I wasn’t aware hats could talk.”
“Mine usually do.”
At that, Luna’s smile died. John had said that as matter-of-factly as he always did, but she knew what he had meant.
The pegasus filly seemed none the wiser, however, and resumed the game before any more dark thoughts could enter either of the warriors’ minds.
”… I’m a Space Hat.”
“A space hat, little one?”
“Have you ever been in space?”
“Yes… for the last thousand years.”
“And did you see a hat there?”
“We did not.”
“Well, Space Hats can talk. You just haven’t seen one before.”
Luna raised an eyebrow, her good mood quickly returning. John was quick to join in again as well.
“it’s true. Hats in space can talk. I saw a lot of them.”
“See? He knows what I mean!”
“There’s just one problem with space hats.”
He lifted his arms as carefully as he could, mindful not to disturb the two fillies on his sides, and reached back, grabbing Scootaloo by the waist.
“They don’t fit very well. You need to adjust them constantly.”
He gently lifted her up, the orange pegasus giggling as he did so, before he plopped her chest-first on top of his helmet.
“Perfect.”
She found him in one of the towers, tucked away far from the formalities and sitting on an old, ugly couch that was straining under him. She could have sworn she heard it squeal in protest. One of the many things she had found she shared with the Spartan was a distaste for ceremony, and she had often hidden herself away in such places when she couldn’t stand the sea of sycophantic nobles any longer.
He was not alone though. The Cutie Mark Crusaders had been dragged along to the ball as well, and like John, had managed to slip away. They had made themselves comfortable on him, Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom nestled against his sides, while Scootaloo had managed to make her way to his shoulders. Luna smiled slightly to herself. She always loved seeing them with him this way, especially Sweetie. The sight always assured her that she had made the right choice with him.
She sidled up to the couch, and Chief gently turned his head to meet her, giving a slight nod.
“So,” she began, a hint of merriment in her voice, “enjoying yourself?”
“I’m not sure what you mean.”
“There seems to be something on your head, Sir Chief.”
He looked up, tilting his head back slightly and forcing Scootaloo to get a better grip.
“You mean my hat?”
He was as stoic as ever, betraying no emotion. She could have sworn she saw the ghost of a smile behind that golden visor, however.
“I’m fairly sure that’s a filly.”
“No, I’m his hat.”
Scootaloo interrupted, finally managing to get a good grip. She was beaming. She was having as much fun with the game as any of them. Luna couldn’t help but keep her own smile from showing now.
“I wasn’t aware hats could talk.”
“Mine usually do.”
At that, Luna’s smile died. John had said that as matter-of-factly as he always did, but she knew what he had meant.
The pegasus filly seemed none the wiser, however, and resumed the game before any more dark thoughts could enter either of the warriors’ minds.
”… I’m a Space Hat.”
“A space hat, little one?”
“Have you ever been in space?”
“Yes… for the last thousand years.”
“And did you see a hat there?”
“We did not.”
“Well, Space Hats can talk. You just haven’t seen one before.”
Luna raised an eyebrow, her good mood quickly returning. John was quick to join in again as well.
“it’s true. Hats in space can talk. I saw a lot of them.”
“See? He knows what I mean!”
“There’s just one problem with space hats.”
He lifted his arms as carefully as he could, mindful not to disturb the two fillies on his sides, and reached back, grabbing Scootaloo by the waist.
“They don’t fit very well. You need to adjust them constantly.”
He gently lifted her up, the orange pegasus giggling as he did so, before he plopped her chest-first on top of his helmet.
“Perfect.”
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