Welcome to the Club (Now Give Me Some Blood)
Today was the absolute worst day of Scootaloo’s life.
Not only had she failed the history test that she studied so hard for, but Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon decided to point out how much of a failure she was in front of the whole class. Scootaloo was now deep within the school’s library, away from the rest of the sophomore class. She even rejected help from her friends Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle. However, it didn’t take long for the two bullies to find her.
“Well, well, well, looks like we found the crybaby,” Diamond said to her companion.
“I’m not a crybaby!” Scootaloo replied. However, the tears in her eyes and stained on the sleeves of her black jacket told otherwise.
“Are you sure, crybaby?” Silver Spoon sneered, laughing along with Diamond Tiara.
“Stop it!” the emotional sophomore cried out. “Just go away!”
“Or else what?” Diamond Tiara said darkly, ceasing her laughing.
“Or else… or else…”
“Or else nothing,” the bully finished, pushing Scootaloo into the bookshelf. “You’re as much of a chicken now as you were before.”
“Ow!” Scootaloo yelled, her cries falling on deaf ears. “Why won’t you leave me alone?”
“Why should we?” Silver Spoon asked. The two girls then started advancing on Scootaloo until someone grabbed both of them from behind.
“And what do you think you’re doing, you little brats?” asked a pale grey junior, wrapping an arm around each of the two girls’ necks and causing them to scream in fright. “Having a little play time with a friend?”
“Y-yes, mister!” Diamond Tiara stammered, grasping at the arm around her neck. “Don’t worry, she’s our friend!”
“Sure doesn’t look like that,” replied the older kid. “Now, if I were a teacher, I would have told you to not do that again and let you be on your way. If I were a good student and actually enjoyed being restrained by school rules, I’d give you up to Principal Celestia. Lucky for you, I’m neither of those things. Now, here’s what I’m going to do.” The teen released his grip on the two girls and spun them around to face him. “If I ever see you doing anything like this to her or any other kid again, I’ll take matters into my own hands. I don’t care that you’re two girls who are a year under me. I’m an equal opportunity ass-kicker. Comprende?”
The two girls nodded their heads before running out of the library, giving Scootaloo a better glance at the junior. His intimidating appearance was in part from his red mohawk and his spiked bracelets. His belt seemed to serve no purpose, as his dark green shirt went under it, and the ripped black jeans with belted boots completed the overall punk rock look on him. However, Scootaloo didn’t feel as if he was a threat. She sat in awe of the courage that he had to stand up to the two.
“Are you alright?” the junior asked, reaching a hand out to her. She silently nodded her head and took his hand, quickly being hoisted up by him. “The name’s Six String, by the way.” Her mouth must’ve been wide open, because he then asked, “You’ve got some to say to me?”
“That was amazing,” Scootaloo whispered. “How’d you get to be like that?”
“By realizing that rules are a waste of time.”
“Can you teach me how to be like that?”
“What, intimidating?” Six String knelt down to her level. “Look, kid. This isn’t going to be like those movies where I take you under my wing and shit. You gotta learn it on your own.” Standing up, he said, “Now, why don’t you come with me?”
“Where are we going?” Scootaloo asked.
“Boiler room. I’m taking you to the person who plays that role in that kind of movie.”
When the two entered the boiler room, they found a few kids already there waiting for them. The first was a blue senior who had slicked-back blue hair and wore an open grey tuxedo jacket with a lightning bolt pinned to his lapel. Underneath was a white tie coupled with a red dress shirt that was tucked into a pair of jeans. The next senior was also blue, but was a girl. She wore a zipped-up blue jacket with a yellow belt buckled through her jean loops, as well as a star in her toothpaste-esque hair. After her was a junior, whose pale white skin and electric blue hair matched her outfit of a white jacket with black jeans. Underneath her jacket was a black shirt with a red fist on it. Underneath it read, “RESIST.”
At the end of the room was a girl that Scootaloo recognized: Sunset Shimmer. The senior hadn’t given up her fiery hairstyle or leather jacket, but she had traded her skirt for, along with everyone else, a pair of jeans. I’m starting to see a pattern here… Scootaloo thought to herself.
“Riot, who’s this?” she asked the junior who had just brought the sophomore in.
“The kid’s got spirit,” he said. “She just needs to toughen up a bit. Besides, don’t you think that we could use a new member?”
“Member of what?” Scootaloo asked.
“The Resistance,” Six String said. “We follow by a single motto.”
In unison, everyone in the room said, “No gods, no masters.”
“So, like, anarchists?” Scootaloo said.
“Exactly like that,” the junior replied. “Now, let me tell you who everyone is.” First, he pointed to the senior that they first saw when they came in. “His name’s Hardline. He deals with anything electrical, which basically means he’ll take an axe to any bunch of wires we tell him to. He can also hotwire cars for us, which leads us to our next member, Leadfoot.” He then pointed to the junior girl next to them. “She’s the one that drives us around everywhere, and by drive, I mean away from the authorities.”
Scootaloo was starting to have second thoughts about wanting to be intimidating like Six String.
“Next, we have Ember, which is that senior right there. She’s our arsonist. Basically, arson is when the purity of setting things on fire is tainted by lawyers and shit like that. After her, there’s me, Riot. Basically, I lead us and other groups like us in protests. Finally, we have our leader, Whatsername. She chose that for herself, I have no idea why.”
“But that’s Su-” Scootaloo started before having Six String cover her mouth.
“I know exactly who it is, and so does everyone else. We don’t use real names in here, lest we have a Judas among us.”
“Don’t I need a name?”
“Listen,” Sunset interjected, “we never said if you were in or not.”
“She already knows about us,” piped up ‘Hardline’. “We can’t just let her go off talking about us.”
“But I never said she could be a part of us, either,” Sunset said.
“Well, what’re we going to do, oh wise one?” asked ‘Ember’.
“I don’t need your sarcasm, Ember.”
“Uh… can I say something?” Scootaloo asked.
“No,” Sunset swiftly replied. “No bias allowed from you.”
“Alright, Whatsername, seriously. The hell would be so bad about a new member?” Six String said.
“Well, for starters, I don’t know if she can keep her yap shut. You want the teachers to find out?”
“They aren’t going to.”
“How can you be so sure?” Sunset asked.
“Because, if they do, I know exactly who to go to.”
“I think we should let her in,” ‘Leadfoot’ said nonchalantly. “She’s old enough. Besides, we need people for the cause.”
“More people mean more possibilities for the secret to get out!” Sunset yelled.
“Damnit, Whatsername, she already knows!” Six String yelled back. “Look, either we take her in and she shuts up about it, or we let her go having her think we’re a bunch of wacked-out kids who’ll beat up anyone who knows about us and tell Principal Celestia! What do you think’s the best, huh?”
Sunset groaned. “Fine. Let her in. If this all screws up, though, you are responsible.”
“Don’t I get a cool nickname?” Scootaloo asked.
“You can be Spray. For spraypaint.”
“Alright!”
Sunset quickly got into the sophomore’s face. “Do you think this is a game?” she asked. “Let me answer that for you: it isn’t. This is the real world we’re going out into, so you better be prepared for it.” Scootaloo, with a look of shock on her face, nodded.
Sunset pulled back and said, “Alright, now we need to make a blood pact.”
As the senior pulled out a butterfly knife, Scootaloo stammered, “Blood p-pact? Wh-what’s that for?”
“To make sure you’ll stick to your word. Now, hold out your hand.” The sophomore did so, and Sunset grabbed it, facing the palm up. She then ran the blade across it, making a cut deep enough for the blood to seep out. Sunset then cut her own hand and shook it with Scootaloo’s.
“Doesn’t a b-blood pact need, like, a document?” Scootaloo asked as she held her bleeding hand, wincing at the pain.
“Not the way we do it,” Sunset replied. She then turned to the rest of the group and said, “Meet back here tonight. Simple tagging run around the town. Put the new kid through her paces.” There was a murmur of agreement before Sunset said, “Let’s get back to class, our free period’s almost up.” As she left, she deliberately walked into Scootaloo, almost pushing her to the ground.
As Scootaloo stood in the boiler room, letting the blood drip from her hand, she wondered exactly what she had gotten herself into.
Author's Note
Anarchy for everyone!
And you can bet your ass there's gonna be punk rock references everywhere. I may have just found my American Idiot album.
