Chapters My Little Anime: Manga Is Magic!
"Spiiiiiike! Spike, help me with this mirror, would you, please?"
Another quiet day in Ponyville. Twilight sat down and caught her breath, glaring at the huge mirror sitting in her living room, a monstrosity a few heads taller than herself, its frame wrought from cold grey steel, its reflective face gleaming in the midafternoon light.
Her own reflection - a chubby little unicorn pony - looked back at her. "Looking pretty good, Twilight," she said jokingly, striking a pose in imitation of Rarity. Then she cantered over to Spike, who was lying on his belly, surrounded by strange little softcover books.
"Hey, Spike, watcha reading?"
Twilight trotted up behind the little purple dragon, peeking over his shoulder.
"This thing? Somepony tossed 'em on the ground outside. I dunno why, they're awesome! Check this out, Twilight! It's sooooo much cooler than those comics I had. Look, she's about to get into this giant machine thing!"
Twilight squinted at Spike's book. It was all too messy for her to understand. A strange looking, slim creature walking on its hind legs, with rather large, expressive eyes, was trying to enter a much larger copy of itself, via a hatch.
"Wow. Uh. Heh heh...yeah, that's kinda weird, Spike."
Spike blushed fiercely. "Why? What's wrong with it, Twilight?" he said, sounding a touch defensive.
"Nothing! Can you help me move this mirror? If you can leave those alone for a second." Twilight forced herself not to smile at Spike's embarrassment.
"Oh, all right."
"Great! Thanks, Spike. I said I'd meet up with Rarity for a spa visit after we're done, so we've gotta do this quick."
Spike tossed the book over his shoulder nonchalantly and stood up. They went back into the living room.
"Geez, this thing is ugly. Who gave you it?" Spike said, walking over to the mirror. He put his paws on his snout and made a silly face. "Bleh!"
"It's a gift from Her Highness, Spike. Although, she didn't say what it was for..."
"Huh. That's strange. Anyway, let's see what we can do with this hunk of junk. You grab the other end, Twilight. I'll grab this end!"
Immediately, a piercing beam of red light shot out from the centre of the mirror.
"Spike!" Twilight gasped, recoiling from the mirror, scurrying back as quickly as if it had changed into a venomous scorpion.
"I...I didn't do anything! Honest, Twilight! I didn't touch it!" Spike realized his error a second later. "Well, I only touched it because you asked! W-whoah!"
He fell flat on his face, rolling towards the mirror like a little bowling ball. At the same time, Twilight felt herself being pulled into the mirror, as firmly as if invisible ponies were holding her and dragging her towards it. The red light played about the room, darting to and fro like the beam of a lighthouse. Then it rested on the heap of books Spike had scattered about on the floor. In no time at all, it inhaled the books. They whizzed towards the mirror, disappearing the instant they made contact with its surface. The mirror swallowed them whole.
"Waaaaaaaaah! Twiliiiiiiiiiiight!"
Twilight had a split second to watch Spike disappear into the mirror. He fell through the shiny surface, as if he had been tossed into a reflective pool. It closed over him.
Then she felt herself falling in as well. There was a shocking sensation all over her body, as if she'd been drenched with a pail-ful of ice-cold water.
"I'm sorry, Spike," she murmured, her lips numb with cold.
There was a very soft knock on Twilight's front door.
It swung open ominously. Fluttershy nervously peeped around the door, wings tucked tightly around her body. "Um....hello?" she murmured at the seemingly empty room.
Bright red light blinded her. An inexorable force gripped her, dragging her forwards into the room.
"Oh, goodness," Fluttershy barely had time to whisper.
"Guys! Hey, you guys! Guess what!"
Pinkie darted head first into Twilight's living room. She found herself bathed in bright red light.
"Oooooooh! Twilight, I didn't know you put up a light show for my Pinkie Party! That's so cool! Hey, this light makes me feel funny! It's like I'm being pulled by something! How'd you do that!? Lemme see, lemme see, lemme...oops!"
Rarity paced up and down outside of the Ponyville Spa, complaining heartily to a very browbeaten Rainbow Dash.
"...and she SAID she'd be here by now! Whatever is that pony doing? Really, Dashie, you'd think SOME PONIES would know what CLOCKS are! And to think I've gone an hour now without a nice facial mask. My skin will never forgive me. I shall certainly blame Twilight if I lose my beautiful complexion because of her tardy behavior."
"What?" Rainbow raised her eyebrows quizzically. "Did you just call Twilight a-"
"Tardy! Tardy! It means 'one who is prone to lateness', Dashie! DO try to keep up with us intellectual sorts." Rarity sniffed at Dash dismissively, tossing her head and stomping one elegant hoof.
"Oh, for Celestia's sake," Rainbow Dash groaned inwardly.
"Howdy, fellas!"
Applejack cantered up to them, a load of apples on her back. "Why the long faces, y'all?"
"It's because Twilight's late! She's the reason my face looks anything other than MARVELOUS!" Rarity said.
"Rarity's driving me insane," Rainbow Dash complained.
"Oh, grow up," Rarity huffed.
"Girls! Y'all behave." Applejack gave them both a withering glare. Both ponies wilted under Applejack's gaze. Rainbow Dash kicked a stray pebble and looked away. Rarity giggled nervously.
"That's better. Now, I'm thinking we should go by her house. Maybe she overslept," Applejack said, helpfully.
"At three in the afternoon?" Rarity said, with no small measure of incredulity.
"We'll find out when we get there, Rarity. I was gonna sell these apples, but I reckon I could get back here after we check on Twilight. Follow me, everypony!" Applejack trotted off, Rarity and Rainbow Dash in her wake.
Bright red light shone from every window and door in Twilight's house.
"Looks like Pinkie's having one of her rave parties. They forgot all about me!" Rarity complained.
"Well, we're gonna remind 'em, won't we?" Rainbow Dash said. "C'mon, you guys! Last one in's a muddy filly!"
She shot through the open front door in a technicolor streak. Applejack and Rarity ran after her.
Some time later, the eerie red light pouring from Twilight's house dimmed, leaving the place looking quite normal, if unnervingly void of ponies.
The mirror sat innocently in the middle of her living room, giving no sign whatsoever that it had swallowed the six ponies (and one mischievous little dragon). Birds tweeted merrily in the trees outside, the myriad buzzing and humming of insects keeping a steady background drone.
My Little Anime: Manga Is Magic!
Spike opened his eyes, feeling a little dazed.
"Ow...what the heck was that all about, anyway? Yeah, good joke, Twilight. Very funny," he grumbled.
Something warm and soft was pressing on him. He found himself in a cramped little bedroom, lying on a soft mattress that was level with the floor, covered in a thin blanket. It was oppressively hot. The chirping and buzzing of insects outside assaulted his ears.
In front of him was a desk with a computer on it, surrounded by books, paper, pencils, and pens; behind him was a bookshelf, and next to him was a wastepaper basket. There were posters of smiling girls in various forms of dress hanging on the walls, a half-open closet nearby displaying quite a neat little rack of clothes. The door was shut and seemed to be locked, from what he could see of it.
Spike took all this in calmly, attempting to reason with himself, in spite of the little needles of nervousness cramping his belly.
If this was a joke on Twilight's part, he wasn't really jiving with it at all. "....okay. This is freakin' me out, here. Did Twilight use one of her spells on me? I don't remember this at all!"
He looked down at his perfectly normal human-looking hands. He was wearing perfectly ordinary blue pyjamas.
"Hahahaha! Whoah, these things are...different." He spread his fingers, flexed them, and curled his hands into fists. "Unreal!" he whispered, watching the bones and muscles working under his smooth skin.
He leaped out of bed. At least walking on two legs was the same. Spike unlocked the door and opened it, looking outside. There was a hallway leading to some stairs, all very small and compact. Whoever designed the house favored very cramped architecture, he thought to himself. There were two doors, one of which was marked "RYUUKO's BEDROOM". A toothsome smell of frying eggs wafted up the stairs.
Spike ignored that one and went in the other door. He found himself in a bathroom with all the usual accoutrements - toilet, a shower with an odd little stool, a bath, a sink, towels, soap, and so on.
Initially, his heart gave a nervous tremor at the sight of the mirror, but, as no eerie red light came shooting out, he let himself relax. "Twilight wouldn't try the same trick twice, anyway," he said to himself.
A human boy with strange, slit-pupiled green eyes, a slim, fine-boned face, and a thin body, stared back at him. His bright green mohawk was there - how did it remain so neat? Must be magic, he thought to himself - as were the green frilled ears, but otherwise he looked totally indistinguishable from a human boy in pyjamas.
Spike put his hands on his face and tugged at his cheeks, pulling a face in the mirror. "BLEH!" he said, at his reflection. Then he twitched his lips upward and made a face like a rabbit.
"Nii-san." A soft female voice.
Spike whirled around.
A girl, shorter than him by a head, was standing behind him. "Nii-san," she said again, insistently. She was holding a spatula.
She looked...strangely, a little like a feminine copy of him, except her hair was long and decorated with a large pink ribbon. She was wearing an apron over a blue-and-gold sailor suit, complete with a pleated skirt and knee-socks.
"...And you are?" Spike said, raising his eyebrows at her quizzically.
The girl's green eyes instantly welled with tears.
"Nii-san...hidoi!"
She ran out of the bathroom. He heard her footsteps stomping on the stairs.
"Aw, c'mon!" Spike lunged after her, but she was already retreating down the stairs.
"Great! My one chance to meet up with Twi and find out what happened, aaaaaaaand she's gone. Just great!" fumed Spike. He darted out of the bathroom after her, feet pounding down the stairs.
She was angrily tossing pens, books, and other odds and ends into a bookbag when Spike caught up with her in the cramped little living room downstairs.
"Hey, I'm sorry, okay? Ryuuko!"
The girl looked up at him, dashing her hand over her eyes irritably. Spike peeked at her bookbag, reading the nametag.
TAGUCHI RYUUKO*, it read.
"I was...really tired! Honest! I got, like, no sleep at all last night. I wasn't trying to chase you away or anything." Spike looked at the table. There was a plate with a steaming omelette on a bed of rice waiting for him, emitting a very pleasant smell indeed. A decanter of soy sauce, a bottle of ketchup, and some chopsticks - resting on a chopstick-holder - were arranged neatly around the plate. A tall glass of juice sat a little ways to the right.
"And that does look pretty good," Spike admitted. His stomach rumbled loudly.
Abruptly, Ryuuko ran over to him and hugged him tightly around his waist. "Stupid Nii-san...I'll forgive you this time, anyway."
She bounced away from him, abruptly turning a dark shade of red. "Y...you'd better hurry up and eat, or you'll be late!"
Spike was fumbling with the chopsticks, when, suddenly, something clicked in his head. He soon wolfed down half the rice and egg, adding liberal amounts of soy sauce to the rice, and ketchup to the egg. "Mmmf. Whaffor?" he muttered, around a mouthful of food.
"School! Silly Nii-san!" Ryuuko said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
"Eeeeeeeeeeeeeh?!"
Spike hastily swallowed the mouthful and stood up, still shoveling food into his mouth. "When...*munch munch*...does it...*munch*...start?!"
"Eight-thirty!"
"And...what time is now?" Spike said, with a sinking feeling in his gut.
"Eight-o-clock sharp, Nii-san."
"Shimatta!"
Spike began a mad dash for the door.
"Wait! Nii-san!" Ryuuko called after him.
Spike whirled around to face her.
"I put your bookbag together while you were in the bathroom..."
"Thanks, Ryuuko." Spike said the name slowly, tasting it. It was alien to him, and yet familiar somehow. Their eyes met, for a brief moment.
Ryuuko flushed a dark red. She shoved his bookbag into his hands. "Get dressed. I took your clothes down for you, too. Now I'm going! I have to get to school too, y'know."
Dressed, washed, and with only twenty minutes to get to school, Spike dashed down the road, all of a lather, panting heavily.
"Shouldn't...eat...so...many...apples," he puffed, a stitch stabbing away at his side.
Something hit him squarely in the chest, driving all the air out of him and sending him flying to the hard asphalt. He heard a shrill scream, and blacked out momentarily.
When he came to, a slim girl in a red-and-white sailor suit was lying atop him.
"Owww...." She sat up, massaging her purple-haired head with one slim, elegant hand, an abandoned piece of toast lying at her side.
"Rarity!" Spike almost shouted. He could recognize those long royal purple curls anywhere, even if the owner was this strange-looking human girl. Yet, there was something familiar about her pale, pointed face, and the light blue eyeshadow.
"Spike!" Rarity squealed.
The sound of a bell rang out.
They looked at each other.
"We're late!!!" they both wailed at the same time.
Rarity shoved Spike back down and scampered off, clutching her bookbag.
"Hey! Hey, wait! I don't even..." Spike shouted after her, struggling up to his feet and sprinting after Rarity, who was rapidly disappearing down the street. Rarity sped on, unheeding.
More students were pouring into the street.
Spike found himself in a press of students, all surging and pushing and stampeding down the street. "Ow! Watch it," he complained, as a particularly pushy student shoved their way into his side.
The student turned around, revealing himself to be another boy Spike's age, with a haughty look upon his broad, open features, his bright red eyes glittering. He had short black hair, and wore a white bandana along with his red-and-white gakuran school uniform. "Don't 'watch it' me, Spike-kun. That's how you greet your old pal, Wantanabe Hiro? I'm only, like, the best Kendo club participant ever at Ryuujin Jakka Gakuen." He threw an arm around Spike's shoulders, dragging Spike closer to him in what was obviously meant to be a chummy, friendly manner.
Spike laughed nervously. "Right. Sure thing, 'pal'," he said, sounding wholly unconvinced.
Hiro glanced meaningfully at Rarity. "Getting fresh with the sexy ladies before school, eh? Sooooo jealous~! Hey, why don't you introduce me to her friends?"
"If I can find them, Hiro, you got yourself a deal," Spike said. "I was kinda hoping to find out where they were, myself."
"Oh?" Hiro cocked his head, giving Spike a sideways glance. "Hey, did you hear what the Studen Council President said? She's going to be upping the standards for all the school clubs in a little while. Said that they need to even themselves up. Said she's sick of all these disgusting pigs in wigs pretending to be doing something worthwhile after school."
"Geez. Talk about controlling," Spike grumbled.
"You bet. Anyway, here we go. In through the gate - that's the ticket. Watch your head," Hiro said helpfully, as a much taller student swept past. Spike only just managed to duck before the student's elbow swiped where his head had been, moments before.
Spike found himself in a classroom with twenty other students, being droned at by a wizened old man who looked as if he was twice Granny Smith's age, and sounded thrice that number. He introduced himself as Sensei Otomo Motosada, writing it out on the blackboard in large characters, and then waited as they stood up, bowed to him, and then sat back down with a flurry of chairs scraping the floor.
The room smelled antiseptic, of disinfectant, pencil shavings, blackboard dust, and chalk. Some of the female students were wearing scent. It tickled Spike's nose.
"Eto...eto...ah, here we go. Class, listen carefully," the teacher rasped weakly. He adjusted his eyeglasses with a quivering hand.
"On the numbering of years. The citizens of Umato* count each year since the ascendancy of Her Imperial Majesty, Celestia. It has been twenty thousand years since she ascended; thus, it is the year Twenty-Thousand, in the Era of Our Empress Celestia, ruler of the Dai-Umato-Teikoku*."
"We can recall an incident in which one of Her Imperial Majesty's grand Shogun took it upon herself to rewrite the calendar with a foreign system, but the Empress summoned her Ashigaru and her Samurai to her capital. This resulted in the Battle of Oo-Edo-Uma, which was the former name of Ponykyo, the de-facto Capital City of the Dai-Umato-Teikoku. The Shogun was toppled and forced to commit ritual suicide in the Imperial Palace, their title given to one of the peasant Ashigaru captains who had fought bravely under the Sun Wheel Banner of the Empress."
Spike was deathly bored. The droning of insects, the rushing of cars on the street, the steady murmur of the teacher's voice, all mingled together to form a most soporific sound. He found his eyes closing.
Then something happened that jolted him wide awake.
Rarity stabbed him in the neck with a pencil. It was more of a little jab, but it annoyed Spike out of his reverie.
"Ow!"
Something fell on his desk. Instinctively, Spike snatched it out of sight of the old teacher, and unfurled it beneath the cover of his desk. Then, he glanced downward. What he saw made him suck in his breath. His heart pounded.
"SPIKE...
...DO YOU REMEMBER THE MIRROR?"
Author's Note
I apologize in advance if the pseudo-Japanese is a bit much, but I wanted to drive home fully the point that they are, in fact, not really communicating in English, or Basic, or whatever the Pony Analogue for English is.
*Ryu means dragon, and Spike's sister is a girl dragon! No relation to another Ryuuko from another series. So, Spike's new name is Taguchi Spike, and his sister is Taguchi Ryuuko.
*UMA is Japanese for Horse. YAMATO was the ancient name of Japan. I combined the two to create a Japanese analogue for 'Equestria'. I apologize for the ridiculous name of Ponykyo for the capital city, but it sounded funny at the time.
*Great Umato Empire.
My Little Anime: Manga Is Magic!
Transfer Student's Landing
HALF AN HOUR EARLIER:
Transfer Student Applejack stared up at the looming bulk of Ryuujin Jakka Gakuen rising above the skyline of Ponykyo. She adjusted the steel case hanging off her shoulder, by means of a leather strap
"So this is it, huh. Ryuujin Jakka." Applejack rubbed her mouth with the back of her gloved hand, as if trying to scrub the stench of the city away - urine, trash, rotting food, fumes from vehicle exhaust, a medley of miasmas...all very unappealing to the nose.
It was bitterly hot, enough to make Applejack's skin prickle - a sullen, angry heat, reflected a hundredfold off the looming skyscrapers of Ponykyo City. Beads of sweat soaked through her shirt, making it stick to her skin.
"Looks like I'll hafta hoof it through the rough part of town, for a spell. This should be fun," she said wryly to herself.
The people here were very dirty, very ill-favored, ill-smelling, and very rude. Applejack bought an apple from a hunchbacked, scowling male grocer, whose questionable idea of doing business comprised of telling her to buy something, or buck off.
The apple was mealy and dry. Applejack chewed and swallowed, forcing the tasteless little lump down her throat.
She strolled down the alleyway, threading her way through crumbling wooden buildings, past toothless old men and women pushing shopping carts full of rubbish, middle-aged women in far-too-tight clothes with what seemed like inches of makeup, and rat-faced, fast-talking gangsters trolling the streets in their cheap polyester suits and mirrored sunshades, reeking with the smells of cheap cologne and body sweat.
A skinny prepubescent girl, barely of a height with Applejack's waist, shot past her, bumping roughly into Applejack's butt. "Oops! Sorry, Onee-chan!" she called out, before darting into another alleyway, and then ducking herself behind a dumpster. The homeless people digging around in the dumpster paid her no heed.
"Now, let's see what Country Bumpkin-san had..." The pink-haired girl looked at her prize. Her face fell. "...aw, for Celestia's sake, you gotta be kidding me. An apple?! Mou~....It ain't even a whole apple! This half-bitten piece of...I thought I got her wallet!"
Applejack leaned casually over the smaller girl and intercepted the apple.
"Oi. Ya really want to taste my lips that badly? What a weird little kid. Anyway, your first kiss should be with a boy."
The girl gave a shriek of surprise and indignation, bouncing up to confront Applejack with rage stamped all over her little face. "You!? How'd you follow me here? And what makes you think I haven't had my first yet!? I'll have you know-" She pointed at Applejack boldly. "I've had my first kiss already! WITH a girl, too! What's more, I liked it!"
"Well, well, well." Applejack blew out an amused sigh, raising a quizzical eyebrow at the smaller girl. She hooked a gloved hand through one of the leather loops securing her steel case to her shoulder. "No regrets, eh?"
"That's my line!" the smaller girl snapped back at her. "You don't know who you're messin' with, huh?! I'm Scootaloo, the Banchou of the Cutie Mark Crusader gang! This is our territory you just wandered into!"
Three more little girls darted out - one with bright red hair, one with rosy-red hair, and one with mulberry-hued hair.
Scootaloo laughed maliciously. "Nervous? Shaking in your boots? It's too late to run now!"
Applejack grinned, placing her hands on her hips. "C'mon, girls. The street gang comedy routine's so last year. But if y'all really wanna duke it out, then come at me. I ain't backward in comin' forward, 'specially if there's a fight a-brewin'."
They formed a ring around Applejack.
Scootaloo launched herself forward first.
Applejack effortlessly batted her out of the air, with a swipe from the steel case.
Instantly, all four Cutie Mark Crusaders dashed away from her, tossed their weapons aside, knelt down, and planted their heads on the ground. "Forgive us, Mistress!" they whined pitifully.
"We're really good at apologizing. It's our strong suit," Scootaloo said, rubbing a bump on her head sheepishly.
"Oi, oi," Applejack said, sounding quite surprised at their total reversal. "I wasn't gonna kill y'all or anything."
"Phew!" Scootaloo dashed a drop of sweat off her brow. "That was a close thing. Oh, I didn't introduce my friends yet, did I? This is Sweetie Belle, and this is-"
"I know who Applebloom is. And I also know that she's in big trouble when I get back home." Applejack narrowed her eyes. "The nerve! You're a thousand years too young to get one over yer big sister. You too, Babs! You're all in trouble now!"
Applebloom sniffled.
"Guys! You guys!"
A blonde teenage girl around Applejack's age came flying at Scootaloo. They tumbled into the dirt together. The older girl came up first, with Scootaloo in a headlock.
"Shaking down people at this time! Why won't you little trouble-makers go to school? It's nice...well, except for when it's not. But it's a lot better than messing with strangers!"
Scootaloo wriggled helplessly. "Um, I think you're choking her, Derpy," Babs pointed out.
The instant Derpy let go of Scootaloo, the entire Cutie Mark Crusader gang beat a hasty retreat. "Screw you, Derpy! We got better things to do with our time! Let's go, gang!" Scootaloo yelped.
"Rude!" Derpy yelled after them.
Applejack watched this entire tableau vivant unfold with her mouth open. She realized she was gawking at them, closed her mouth with an effort, and turned to Derpy, who seemed to suddenly remember that Applejack was there. Derpy jumped visibly, and then smiled at Applejack.
"Hi! Hello! Hiiiii! Can I help y-"
A bell rang.
Derpy leaped into the air. "Ohmygewdness! I'm gonna be late!"
She sprinted away from Applejack, rounded a corner, and was gone.
Applejack groaned, adjusting her steel case on her shoulder. "Seriously...what's with these people?" she asked no-one in particular, as she continued her walk to school.
When Applejack got to the large, wide-spanning gates of the Ryuujin Jakka Gakuen, she found herself quite alone in the wide courtyard, as everyone else was already safely secreted away in class. She found herself having to search for her homeroom by herself.
This took a little longer than she expected. An elevator ride or so later placed her on the right floor. Applejack began walking down the hallway. "Room 2-A...2-A...yep, here it is."
She went inside. Every single student turned and stared at her. Applejack fought away a wave of nervousness as the color rose in her cheeks, but before she had time to feel discomfort, the teacher bore down on her - an impressive-looking young woman. She was dressed much more neatly than the scruffy people in the alleyway, in a sharp red miniskirt and a white shirt. Her long, pale greyish rose hair cascaded about her shoulders.
"Ah, you must be the transfer student. Minna-san!" She clapped her hands together imperiously, drawing the gaze of the students back to her.
"This is Applejack. Please be nice to her and make friends with her! I'm sure you'll all get to know each other very well. Applejack, I'm your new sensei, Sakuranbo Cheerilee. I'm so glad you're part of our class! Let's learn a lot together." She smiled warmly at Applejack, who mustered up a nervous twitch of her lips in return. "Now, where would you like to sit?"
"Applejack! Ap-ple-jaaaaack!" Derpy bounced up and down, pointing at an empty seat beside her. Over here, over here! Come over here! I gotta free seat for you! And it's next to the window! I bet you like window seats! Everyone does! You can get a real nice view from here, too!"
"She'll probably continue like that for a while, unless you say yes," Cheerilee whispered into Applejack's ear.
"Fine, fine." Applejack strode over to the empty seat.
Cheerilee went back to her chalkboard. "Now! Class, open your Algebra books and turn to page 137. Let's begin by reviewing Quadratic Equations."
Derpy opened her math book, placed it in front of her as a screen, and took out a bento box heaping with food. She practically inhaled the food, belched contentedly, and then fell asleep, blowing a snot bubble from her nose, drool rolling down her lips.
"Eeeh?! She's out like a light!" Applejack said to herself, in shock.
They got through the rest of the period without a hitch. When they were let out of the classroom, Applejack went for a quick walk in the courtyard, along with a few other students.
"Ap-ple-jaaaack!"
Derpy launched herself at Applejack in a flying tackle.
Applejack calmly side-stepped her.
Derpy tumbled head over heels onto the ground, rolling smack-bang into a wastebasket and sending its contents flying into the air - as well as all over herself. "Ow! Why'd ya move, Applejack?" she asked, plaintively, as she picked herself up off the ground, dusting herself off, brushing trash off her skirt, and smoothing her sailor-suit down.
"Hey, when something flies at you, you gotta dodge," Applejack said, folding her arms behind her head and stretching, tiny pops and cracks coming from her shoulders and back.
"I was just trying to hug you, Applejack!"
"I ain't know you jump on people to hug them, Derpy."
"Only when it's my bestie! Ne, ne, I could go for another lunch. What about you? I always get hungry when I'm bored! And this place is boooo-ring! I thought I'd die of boredom before you showed up. What's in that thing?" Derpy poked at the steel case hanging off Applejack's shoulder.
"Oh, this? This is..."
Suddenly Derpy began shoving Applejack down to the ground. "Quick, quick! Bow! The Student Council President is coming!"
Every single student in the courtyard was bent nearly double in obeisance, Derpy included. Applejack squatted down amongst the sea of legs around her, peeking around them to get a look at the new arrival.
Dressed immaculately in an all-white jacket reminiscent of a military officer's dress uniform, resplendent with golden epaulets, gold buttons, a white miniskirt with red stripes down the sides, and thigh-high, form-fitting white boots, a haughty-looking girl strode down the gallery of the courtyard, flanked by scores of students, male and female alike. She fairly glowed - in fact, she SHONE. The bright white light hurt to look at directly.
Murmurs of appreciation and awe rose from the gathered students around Applejack.
The girl's flinty cornflower blue eyes scanned the courtyard with a cold glare. She raised an elegant, white-gloved hand, and swept her light violet hair from her cheek, her lips curled in a sneer of smug superiority.
In her other hand was a long, cruel-looking katana in a silver sheath. She stabbed it down on the ground with a sharp clack, folding her hands on the tip of the handle..
"Listen to me, you pigs in wigs! I, Diamond Tiara, will now speak!"
Her voice rang like a bell, echoing off the walls.
A dreadful hush fell upon the courtyard.
"Ignorance is Strength! Victory is Defeat! Freedom is Slavery! Submit to my will and obey my Celestia-granted rule! Accept the consequences of your new reality, and conform to the paradigms of this school!"
Applejack darted out in front of her. She planted her hands on her hips, stared Diamond Tiara in the face, and narrowed her eyes.
"Sounds like a load of old hay to me, Diamond Tiara!"
"Bakayarou! How dare you approach Tiara-Sama!" screamed an outraged male student. "Come on, people! Let's kick the stuffing out of her!"
A furious knot of students surged around Applejack, all bellowing, cursing, and spewing abuse at her. They made a grab for her all at once.
With a swipe of her steel case, Applejack swatted them out of the air like so many annoying flies.
She broke the case open, drawing out a short pitchfork, deftly spinning it in one hand. It extended to nearly twice her height in an instant.
The students around her gasped.
"A...a pitchfork?!"
"Ohmygewdness!" Derpy squeaked.
"Is she insane?!"
"No! That thing's sharp at the ends! It's like a Naginata!"
"Darn right!" Applejack shouted back. "This here's mah Naginata Pitchfork! Diamond Tiara! You've seen the companion to this weapon, ain'tcha? The Spoon of Destiny!"
She slid into a defensive posture, knees bent, feet spread, the razor-keen tips of the Pitchfork aimed squarely at Diamond Tiara.
