Could always go bowling

The chords of funk gave the best sonic landscape as the sphere fought against the irregular waxed alley way only to crash into the half rack remains. The machine buzzed excitedly at the sensing all pins had been broken down and allowed by the deep darkest behind them. It was quiet of chatter, but alive with movement from those on staff tasked with working. Stormy would as they pass by do a assortments of gestures or even a joke as they flickered past. He had grown decently close to a few of the staff.

Though he likely would aid them if they asked. He did not see them outside of work, but he was certain this was a blessing to them considering they may find boredom always nearby. "I wonder if Donny will come by. Such a winding throw he has. Such technique!" He shouted it felt as it guide out his mouth, though held only about three lanes down.

A worker their gave a smile as they headed to the back, which gave Stormy a sense of dignity. To be trusted and not considered general danger. The smaller towns always tuned with him, for they were his origin. He recounts a few memories as the ball shoots into it's lobby of sorts to be plucked.

It was grabbed with heat as sweat caked the earth ponies curling orange coat. The lighting of the place gave a itch and when the door opened a painful chill crawled into the bones. Truly not a night for anyone without magic or some sort of apparel. He steeled himself as he moved forward. He had to try to grow his leg strength into the throw.

He had to land a Turkey one day. His Grandfather had been a grand bowler. He felt the sharp nagging always to be the star upon the earth and in the sky to his papa. Who had been more the role of father to him do to his own suffering from illness of the mind. Unable to pass his thoughts, dreams and hopes to him consistently as a child often needs.

His body felt right. The sweat was not a factor. He was really feeling as it suddenly rolled with fury and angle to the pins. A shattering explosion was heard as Stormy felt himself seeing the world at a strange angle himself before the sharp pain of the studded lane side met with his right back leg. He made not noise for a moment laying there. He felt a bit of shock as his adrenaline pumped. He felt a overwhelming embarrassment, but neglected to just stand up.

((going to hope this is open, ifnot, i'll gladly remove this post!))

One of the many chill winds from the doors opening was accompanied by a small brown earth pony. It did not take much time for Ave to enter the warmer premises. The bandaging from his earlier trip to the everfree forest still held the back of his body in discomfort. Inside, he would notice a familiar sight, an earth pony bowling with much passion and speaking with such boisterousness, that nopony could not hear him. A storyteller Ave had once met in ponyville. One whom he had lied too, as he did to so many others. A mix of emotions overcame him, but they were all hidden in a smile.

He got himself a lane and got ready to bowl himself. it wasn't something he did often, but the doctor recommended trying some activities every now and then to get a feel of his hooves, during their recovery. Ave found the technique to bowling quite simple. He held the ball, and it reminded him of his childhood days back in Manehattan. Now he and his friends weren't some miracles of bowling, they didn't get themselves no free turkeys. But when they had gotten competitive, it wasn't uncommon for the minimum to be a split and a spare to be the common throw. Ave stared at the ball in his hooves a little longer before attempting his throw, only the be caught off guard by a bit of a bang, his hoof slipping and the ball instantly sliding into the Gutter. He didn't care much, and his head turned towards the lane where the sound came from.

Ave's eyes caught onto Stormy as he had fallen, laying on the ground, causing ave to stare a second and blink. He decided to approach the storyteller pony, wondering if he should just be polite, or snap a little snarky joke at the fellow. He chose for the latter, going off of what little they had discussed so long ago. "Just going of on a hoof here but... I take it this isn't you testing some kinda of cursed magical throw which'll always land you a strike if you overcome the curse? Would be a lovely story to add to the repetoire, were it true~" Ave said, using his hidden talent to make snide smile creep on his face as he offered his assistance to the fallen storyteller, helping Stormy back up.

((Doth mine eyes deceive me? The reappearance of StormyHugeheart and a new post to boot? :O))

He arose from the ground in such a way he might of been the son of the count with baby's first coffin. His face pale with teeth exposed from the mix of pain, shame and sudden boost to all sense. His embarrassment wore on his face like he was tried, almost ready to give up on every craft, art or passion those took him. Even the knowledge of the ball been thrown as if he were flint-stone himself swayed him knowing the hit had stuck bone like a avail. He would have a nice purple spot on his mark's side.

"I threw it well. Sadly, being so unmovable, never getting the state that allows Strike I had never been an acquaintance. I found myself in.. awe?" His eyes held open with a distant in them. A timid, sort of strange assortment of movements followed as his leg passed through his hair and his nibbled on his hair on his bottom lip before holding his tongue. The pause almost seemed intentional with his timing. As if he had fit it into his calendar months prior. "

"Certainly not. I simply fell because I had never been in such balance. It truly his a fearful place. Not to be in a harshness or a fragrance of lovely emotion. A blend of both is sorta like.. Bowling." His lip split as his grin grew large, for his lower jaw was larger them his upper. His twinkle flickered in his eyes as if he knew something, or was in on some joke you both shared.

He tasted iron as he wiped his face. "Truly I am destroyed. I certainly hope your curse theory is wrong. Though I assure you it no stain on your coat in terms of correctness. Though." His right eye closed before left, only to open slightly to meet his eyebrows which had been sinking for some time. "Your coat seems be like the forest floor.. Different Shades Of Brown."

"And your coat is as thunderously yellow as your voice is and was, now and back then." Ave mentioned, a likewise smile coming upon his smaller head, wondering if the story teller had remembered the 'blank flank' he had met by ponyville's fountain a dozen seasons ago. Ave remembered the great story Stormy had told him, and how it had inspired his younger self to enjoy life, despite the destiny it had given him and how he felt very bleak about it. However, that optimism has waned and vanished. The bandages upon his body reminded him of the drastic action he had taken a while ago, to... be rid of his destiny. Despite all that, and having learned from it, though... He still hid his destiny and his cutie mark to this very day, under a layer of coat dye.

But Ave had enough thinking about himself, despite the short pause of thought, he kept his flawless smile on, it was what his talent was for, after all, hiding what was inside. "I suppose if you are destroyed, you should probably stop bowling. I don't expect you too, though. Us Earth ponies are somewhat... infamous for our hard work and stubbornness, no?" he mused towards the orange & yellow stallion in front of him, head slightly turning towards the side to show more of a grin.

Stromy's eyes made a strange angle upward for a moment. His left gave a lazy turn away from his eye as thoughts rushed his mind. He didn't feel pain from the damage to his leg. He just felt shock slightly as he let the discussion hold his attention. Should to much reflection on his leg awaken the nerves. He deeply considered how to address Ave statements. Stromy had always supposedly lived up to these stereotypes. Now hearing earth pony speak he wondered again how much himself was pre-decided to fate. Was his traits truly that fixed?

He likely would go out into the market tomorrow to debate with his fellow pony, or perhaps some odd ball adventure to appease the crisis brought by sudden pain, reflection and interaction with a fellow pony. Though his main thoughts tug at him to continue with his point.

"Ahaha," He began, but cut it short to speak. Letting his voice adjust so his breath would not engulf the other pony who itched at his mind as his memories began aiding him with who this was. However, unlike his other interaction he had noticed more. "I suppose I use that to walk to the lodge, or Inn? Not sure the proper title for this town size. Though you'd be surprised how many will try to take business from it to have a guest! Such a friendly spot."

Letting himself sit seemed bad so he just mustered what he could to finish his game. "I suppose my coat has many colors, but I assure you. Mine are all Natural. "Though I have heard some like to dye." He turned to him with a smaller grin, his right eye closed before turning, grabbing his bowling ball to throw down the lane. "So I noticed your leg is hurt as well..."

As Stormy continued with a bowling ball, he mentioned the dye. Ave's face drained of emotion. The smaller pony couldn't keep up this lie, obviously. either stormy was filled with lucky guesses, or had some kind of deeper connection to the truth. Then again, if anyone, the storyteller knew that Ave wanted to act despite his fate that the world had given him. Stormy had hints from Ave's optimistic past, that wanted to break out of this lying shell. One that no one else could see through.

"well." Ave continued,his voice suddenly soft and flat, drained of all hope and emotion. It sounded very unpleasant. "it would seem you more than just like the truth, no?" Ave said with a hint of a sigh. Although he remained expressionless. "My leg was damaged due to a nasty trip in the woods." he said. It was true, technically, these woods had been the everfree forest, and he tripped because he was trying to protect his friend. But he didn't feel the need to mention those details, he was already flabberghasted at how much Stormy could touch upon the truth. Ave looked to his bandages around his flank. Admittedly, some of them had small bits of brown coat dye upon them. Stormy was a tried and true reseracher of old tales, so for these details to meet his eyes, wouldn't be surprising.

"Tell me, Storyteller, do you have some kind of higher connection to the truth? Some inehrent ability to tell whether a story is the truth or fiction?" Ave asked, voice still flat and emotionless. It'd explain a lot, especially how stormy could get those 'close shots' on ave's current situation. Although if they were just lucky guesses, than Ave had just completely ruined this for himself. Ave's lane wasn't too far from Stormy's, so once stormy had done his next throw,, Ave might move back to his own lane for a single throw, too.

He described the events of how his leg came to wrapping, which made a twinkle in the eyes as he used his mouth to procure his bag, tapping the sides strangely before removing a cloth to clean the ball with. You had to keep it well maintained to ensure it will do as your inertia. Stormy shine brilliantly as his gaze seem suddenly, like someone trying to read them like a book that had suddenly made him start to have the bends as he soaked information in. Dropping the cloth around his neck.

He liked this pony. Willing to do foolish things that he knew would be harmful. Just willing to pass what his community told him do something against very logic! Stormy felt his whole self be filled with vigorous energy. This one reminded him of another met, "well scratch that" thought Hugeheart decided. It is not possible to compare two truly different creatures. Maybe he meant more the situation. "The Square Truth.." His grin grew a bit before lessening to talk. Your noticed then his lower jaw was bigger then his upper. Allowing for his odd gift of making a peacock tail span of a grin. "Well I would say I am skilled at predicting perhaps.. I am not psychic." He let his leg brush a part of the cloth that was annoying him as he went on.

"Normally I travel so much to collect stories to ensure they are true. Such a thing requires much more work then simply being gifted..." He paused to let his mind work what to say as he felt then pours of his skin begin to make him sweat in the strange warm to cold to hot setting to the headache inducing alley way. "I just noticed the adventure and the.. activities often associated? I can See now your worried I have found your.. Crumb Trail so to speak.."

Ave was silent for a moment, and thought. It made sense. Most people looked for obvious hints, which is what ave was so used to hiding, But stormy looked for stories, adventure, events. Which is not what Ave knew of hiding. He had not only let Stormy see the trail of crumbs, but now spilled the beans too. Truly, ave's lack of foresight just bit him in the flank. "Worried... Is not what i'd call it. Caught off guard, might be a better thing to say." Ave said, somehow still emotionless and monotone, with no pitch at all in his speech. It was hard to tell which words he wanted to emphasize cause he wasn't emphasizing them.

"There's very few ponies who can see onto me, but then again, i suppose i'm not prepared to lie against someone who looks at other ponies so differently." he continued on, watching as Stormy cleaned his ball and prepared his throw. "Let's see if you hit that turkey!" he said with sudden joy and excitement. The scary thing was, it sounded true and honest, but Stormy could tell that this emotion wasn't true. It was a fabrication, but one of the best a pony might ever encounter. It was definitly enough to fool a passing by pony who worked at the bowling alley.

Stormy had met many different kinds of creatures. Their ethic and morality fickle. He fangled the idea of really pressing Ave. His methods for getting what he wanted often came in a strange fashion. He found it sort of funny how just simple observations could cause such ruckus. Perhaps this individual was in some sort of unseen pain, or perhaps psychopathic.

It was nothing new to Stormy. It fact where was something to sort of peeling the onion as he would think in his own mind. Which did not always have to be logical, or a sentence. Even a train of thought may not be needed. For thoughts traveled so much faster then fact he spoke to communicate most of the time was much slower then his brain function.

"I'l try to finish my game. The Turkey is something I have a goal toward. Which will be practice or chance obtain.. Though perhaps you should buy your game." His eye brows lifted as he remembered something. "Tell you what. I'll even tell you story that relates. I hadn't meant to pry. Though I suppose I can be accused of being like a Crowbar. So nosy! Ahahahahahahahaa." He broke into laughter at himself as he pondered the strange creature before him.

Ave smiled in response. He didn't say much else, cause he didn't feel like he had anything to add. Stormy was definitely an experienced truth-teller of some sort. For some reason, he didn't feel as bad with stormy knowing the truth, although he still was somewhat suspicious. While stormy might be a pleasant fellow, with many distracting stories, he was also loud. Someone spilling out his secret to all of ponyville was the last thing he wanted.

As Stormy had told Ave to go back to his own game, Ave had gotten the impression the two would finish their games first, before continuing on elsewhere, where he would hear the story. Atleast, that's what Ave wanted himself, he could use the time to think a little. Ave moved onto his own Bowling alley, Grabbing his bowling ball with natural ease, and playing his own game.

Ave's mind was racing, a network of possibilities trying to form before him. However, as was issue with Ave, these 'plans' for the future and possible things he could say or do with stormy never extended more than one step. He didn't think into the long term. He threw the bowling ball. A split, how unpleasant, something he's seen often with his childhood friends. He continued playing the game until it came down to his last 2 rounds. In which he stopped, quite suddenly. When he slowly trotted again, he kept one leg raised a little more often. Bowling had given him the analysis on his health that he needed, at the very least.

The embressment had faded from him, still at times reciting other pale and uncromfortable meories making his face change to utter depair as he would cover it with his face, dragging it down to seem like he was just wiping sweat or covering his eyes from the lights of the bowling alley. Which gave every a strange glowing light that was like a strong lumen flashlight that was inescapable unless your eyes were narrowed and you were throwing a ball.

Sixteen pounds pummel it's way down the track. Even once hitting into the gutter. For his desire to speak his talent was slowly gaining majority. His brain wiring as if he was forced by some unshakable destiny. He ran the course of memories trying his best to find the story that would fit well as if he had gone to a tailor of this occasion.

He finished before Ave, on account he had been through most his game before his little.. spill. Letting himself rest nearby, growing a sweat in the chair and fiddling about . He had sat in the same position for to long and the lights with poking his skin. His mind seem only to enjoy the idea of a story more as his body grew more irradiated from pain, embarrassment and tiredness.

He pulled out his book. It was black as a moonless night. It clearly seemed foreign in his earth Earth Pony hooves. It breathed a magic. The threads were present and tight with a fine lock stitch. It looked brand new, but the pages seemed old with a moldy tan of a different era. He tapped the book, which seem to draw him in deep thought like he was reading before his facial expression slowly showed him return to reality. His face relaxed at the jaw, which was a bit abnormal in size.

"Once there was a creature that had nothing to say. He knew he knew nothing so what was there to give away? All day he walked, ate and slept, expect one day when he encountered an event that cured his cleft." He grinned in a way that you could tell his muscles were forcing him, for the story had given him a great urge to laugh, which was being contained. "He came upon a fellow about to meet his death.. He shouted out he was bereft! He begged him to listen to his whole life story. His litany. His allegory." He did not paused, but thought is faster then words.

Stormy was always touched by stories like this. The idea the last wish of a living thing was to be remembered had a almost fetish appeal to him. He seemed to be rushing the delivery a bit. He had even started without asking. He was certain his ego would be felt and his words heard. They were the only ones save the staff. Who actually about now were dealing with closing up and stocking things.

"He told his whole life story. No lies. Truth that was square. The times he was foolish and the times he was fair. Even about his love once for a mare." Stormy fought back his laugh as bit. There was something about things rhyming so he found so funny. "All the Creature said back that it all was pointless. He would tell no other and his memory of the whole tale will fade. He would not even tell other if he was paid." Stormy added that part in. He felt it appealed to everyone nowadays. "I told you my whole life with no lies.. Why is this not enough?" The creatures responds "It is things that will happen again. It was all normal stuff. Even the evils you did. The wrongful actions you took. Were so tiny like ants, or rains drops in a leaky roof.. You could be a great Hero, King or even the smartest. It makes no difference dearly departed, he said so sardonic. Bet your actually satisfied that even one heard it. The sick, hurt or damaged we couldn't say died next to a creature that had nothing to say..."

He closed his eyes and let out a noise no civil thing would, yet he seem so refined when he twinkle and grin replaced it. As if he could remove the traces of the truly barbaric nature deep within. "Though a wonder.. Who wrote the poem?" He turned his head slightly left as he simply awaited a reaction. Though had Ave done any during the performance. Perhaps even left one could assume he would stop his tale to react.

Ave listened, memorizing the poem. His mind went over it and ran through it's meaning and message. He chose not to express himself in any given way, though. An astonishing choice, or perhaps not even a concious one? As the earthen colt finished his bowling, he listened to the final 'verse' of sorts, his deadpan stare boring straight into stormy as stormy told the story. Ave knew what this story did to him, he realized the thoughts it brought up to him. This emotion, he knew it, but he did not show it. Could he not show it? Was there no expression to show it? Did he choose to not show it because he'd rather not? The truth was far from all of those, but unless a pony would hear his very own tale, they wouldn't be able to guess.

"A pony who obviously has his life as figured out as the silent one. He found something to do, both memorable and fun. His words are easy to memorize, and pleasant in rhyme. It would be of little surprise if this tale existed a long time." Ave said in a strange tone. He rhymed in a sing-song voice which seemed to contain a littl ebit of everything. A tinge of joy, a hint of sadness, a bit of anger, a smidgen of relief and a large lack of everything. It was almost an impossible tone for any normal pony to make. Whatever Ave felt and did, there was an air of enigma on his stoic face. Nonetheless... Ave's words were reminiscent of how he spoke long ago, and sounded much more like when he first met stormy, when things were different in the earthern pony's mind. Part of him wondered now and then if he had gotten better at lying.

"It is late." Ave stated, once more flatfaced and without a single hint of emotion anymore. He looked towards stormy. "I have a guest room in my home. If you would like a free place to sleep, consider yourself invited." he continued. The tone made it hard to figure out if Ave was honest or not, Stormy would have to go by assumption, instead.