Well ... Je Ne Sais Pas ;~;

Chapters

2 ~ Keeping it Together
4 ~ First move
5 ~ Chase and Censure
6 ~ Haunted
7 ~ Sunset's Distraction.
8 ~ Tributes to the Queen
9 ~ Choosing a Rabbit Hole
10 ~ Thence Thy Stage Setteth Yonder
11 ~ Greet, Meet, Speak, and Scheme
12 ~ Is There Anybody in There?
13 ~ Time to Think
14 ~ Doctor, Your Order?
15 ~ Foiled pt. 1
16 ~ Foiled pt. 2
18 ~ ... it Pours
19 ~ Changing Tone
20 ~ Crazy Ideas
1 ~ Aftermath and Onward
3 ~ Foray to School
17 ~ When it Rains ...

2 ~ Keeping it Together

Usually, things that ended up going wrong for her she had a direct hand in doing. Sunset had been there, been -- at the very least -- part of the cause of it, so she had some idea how to make things better. Right, normally such things were her fault which allowed her to accept her flaws, learn, figure things out, and move on. Granted, of course, the events of the day were indeed her fault. Though, as the wind practically knocked her to the ground and water relentlessly bashed against her face, she concluded the only way to have not had this portion of the day occur was to never have departed bed at all. To make things worse, it had gotten dark -- not just an average dark evening; this was practically pitch black and what visibility she did have was constrained by impenetrable fog.

Of course, unfortunately, she did have one guiding light: a single flash seemingly randomly happening and, if it hadn't been that the one noise to cut through the unrelenting wind and rain was getting louder and more on the heels of each flash, Sunset would have been more at ease. Especially as she usually enjoyed being out during storms. However, just like everything else that day, the favorable version of the experience was just not the case. All she felt she could do was keep trudging forward regardless of exhaustion which made each subsequent step seem more impossible than its predecessor ... it was upon recognizing this feeling that she concluded she could not walk anymore. When she did decide to stop in her tracks, she refused resisting stomping her heel into the ground -- not unlike a child too upset to even know what to have a temper tantrum over. Of course, she quickly regretted her frustrations when she heard and felt a splash.

Water had to be puddled right there -- right where she stopped -- to get on her leg and inside her already messed up boot. She let out a shaky breath; her feet hurt, her limbs were shaking as though she was dehydrated, she felt gross, it was cold and the fact she was wet just made it colder, and the wind just kept making it worse and worse and horribly worse. Though that was not all, of course not, claps of thunder and quick, intense flashes of light startled her more and more. Sunset could only muster in her mind that this sucked, and that it must have been by far the worst day she had ever been alive for. In fact, she had no idea what experience there might be when one dies, but ... is there any way it could be worse than this? Enraged -- infuriated -- she took in as much air into her lungs as she felt she could, completely disregarded the potential idiocy and waste of energy of her next action, and screamed the first things that came to her mind.

"I JUST CAN'T STAND THIS! THIS IS THE WORST!" Sunset didn't stop screaming until she exhausted all the breath, which wasn't much, she had taken in. Alas, that was about the time her shaky legs finally failed to remain straight and she collapsed to her knees. Thunder roared in apparent mockery which led her ears to find that her voice didn't seem to carry even a few meters into the distance. Not only was she absolutely infuriated with everything, but she couldn't bring the single inconvenience of, at the very least, disrupting the rain's cadence? Granted, despite her irritation, it was probably incredibly serene from a warm, dry home. Though, to Sunset, Mother Nature would just not give her anything ... like she was an interloper in the world, completely outside the universe's natural plan.

That was it. Sunset couldn't take anymore, as she hung her head she couldn't even see the ground beneath her. Though she could feel mud and asphalt, she also felt water but was certain some volume of it was made of her own tears. Am I miserable? Is this what being miserable feels like? Her bottom lip quivered at the thought, as she felt unable to even comprise coherent sentences of depression without sounding feeble. Whimpering just to keep from vocalizing her sobbing, she poised to fall to the ground like a dying bird. Did people I hurt over the years feel like this whenever I was around? ... I felt better about myself while those I put down felt anything remotely like this? How did I even get that way? Now, from where she was and what she'd learned, she couldn't wish this upon those she hated most. It's all over, came the voice in her head and suddenly the thought repeated. It's all over. It's all over ... everything.

Her head began to ache, she felt nauseous, and she didn't know she was leaning forward until her arms instinctively went forward to stop her face from meeting the ground. Even then, her arms were shaking violently and she felt herself lowering down. Onto one elbow, then the other, and her head just started to get worse; instead of an ache, it felt like someone was pounding the back of her head with a rock and her eyelashes seemed to transmute to lead. She thought she needed to get up and get moving, fight through it regardless, but the wind, the rain, the thunder. Everything around seemed to be telling her to stay down. Even her own mind supported the idea: What's the point? Why not just rest here? Just a while ... I'll lie my head down.

Darkness is the only thing around, so what do I need my eyes open for anyway? Sunset's neck muscles felt immediately better as she let them expand; no longer did they have to work to hold her head above the ground, the throbbing pain in the back of her head seemed to be alleviated, and she started feeling a little warm -- like there was a blanket around her shoulders. Nice, soft, and warm. Thoughts refocused, she looked forward to the feeling of her head striking the ground. To be completely relieved of duty sounded like heaven to her.

Only it seemed that, as long as she waited, her head just kept falling as though she had been there for minutes ... falling in slow motion with infinite time to reflect upon anything so desired. Have I ever thought at such a speed before? Not to memory, but what was that one thing? Maybe it was something important, and maybe it's just trivial knowledge. Sunset mused, Something about the dilation of time... right before you...

THONK! "Ouch..." Sunset grunted out while her hands found a source of pain behind her head and her eyes worked open. Slowly, thoughts pieced their way into her mind and she noted the sound of something large behind her resounding throughout the room. The headboard ... As Sunset rolled onto her left side -- one hand remaining on the back of her head -- she reached over to check the time; it was exactly three in the morning. Three hours passed since she fell asleep and five since she arrived. Woe is me; I'm just glad to get any sleep. Sensibly, a long yawn escaped her as she began rubbing sleep from her eyes, but she then stopped cold. There was a person there, right at the foot of her bed, simply staring at her.

She blinked but it didn't seem to be an hallucination while it definitely stared at her. They seemed to be speaking quite a string of sentences; though Sunset must have had her ears displaced from sleep for she didn't hear a word of it. Chills went down her spine as she opened her own mouth to say something but no question words she knew of came out, and she didn't even have a chance to be startled before the next startling thing happened.

"Gah!" Sunset gasped out while her eyes physically cracked open and she threw the comforter off her in panic. Hyperventilating, she was at least able to note that she was on the floor rather than her bed and quickly used that bed to get to her feet. She scanned the room frantically; a messy bed, a wood floor with no carpet, red and yellow comforter on the floor courtesy of her, a barren pine desk with some drawers, an unpainted cedar nightstand on the other side of her bed, and a door-shaped opening which led to her kitchen and -- ultimately -- the door outside surrounded her. More important, no one else but herself resided in the room. Mildly to release anger and mildly to calm down, she remarked aloud, "stupid subconscious with your stupid false awakenings."

Indeed, she found it annoying but she also remembered each moment of those dreams. For Sunset, that usually was not the case. Most often, she'd simply awaken and by the time of her coffee she'd be surprised if she remembered even an image, but what she just experienced had been so real, so vivid. Regardless that some things were not quite right, the overall feel of those dreams definitely resided in her mind at that moment -- especially the word she'd said during her false awakening which she recognized as the ending to a thought she had in the dream prior, and as much as she wished not to think about it she remembered the way it felt for the word to roll off her lips: ...die.

Sunset shook her head and decided she did not need to think about it as she had more pressing matters to attend to. Of course, the most exciting action she considered was the first she went to do: checking the time -- to see what time it really was -- but she took a moment before approaching the nightstand to dig her fingernail into her collar bone. This turned out to be a brilliant idea. "Ouch!" Pretty much all of her was sore, but doing that did not assist. Well, at least she was somewhat confident she was awake albeit with an even more sore neck. Upon retrieving her phone from the nightstand, she took a deep breath and pressed the guide button. In seconds, the device sparked to life and in turn so did Sunset's grin.

Just half passed five in the morning! She'd meant to cheer it to and for herself, but was trying not to be loud. After all, it's not like I live alone in my own building. And sure, maybe five hours wasn't exactly what she'd call beauty sleep, but it was better than three in her book. Another thing she was glad she'd done before going to sleep was to clean herself up and throw on some generally in-tact, clean clothes. Certainly something she thanked her past self for this morning, but for Sunset a clean pair of clothes and five hours of sleep had nothing on the drink that would make her want to actually perform tasks today. For the moment, she even left the comforter on the floor, more looking forward to rounding the wall that lead to her beautiful kitchen.

Beautifully small kitchen, that is to say, but who could complain when the place was practically free? There was also the fact that it tended to be quiet, and Sunset preferred peace and quiet. Although her eyes fell upon a half-broken coffee machine next to a stove, she set aside her appreciation for serenity to set upon the patience-requisite task of getting water to boil. Sure, it was easy, just flip a switch for a burner, put a pot with some water on it, and wait, but it would be easier to just pour the water into the back of the machine, put the grounds in, and push a button. Though, she supposed, the ultimate result was the same: glorious coffee. While she didn't really care about how she got her coffee; she did enjoy the idea of not watching water boil, so -- heaving a sigh at her fatigue -- she leaned back on the very wall she just woke up on the other side of and glanced toward the door which opened into her abode ... and saw what she dreaded seeing: her boots.

Just to the side of the door, on a small hand towel, sat a pair of boots that may have literally been decimated. First, she grimaced at the thought of dealing with them, but nonetheless walked over to initiate examination. Going to one knee, she lightly grabbed both of them by the back of the calves, lifted, and ... they fell apart; the heels and soles fell out first, giving the insoles their time to be seen. Soaked and torn, she even saw dirt outlining where her foot had once been. Topping the list was that the zippers were clearly rusted and cracking. Sunset chuckled, "Ahaa.. hahaha," but she was just staving off the water that began to form in her eyes. They were such good boots, and they served me so well. Looking away, she knew a great comrade had just passed, but she needed shoes. Alas, another thing added to the list of stuff she destroyed: her dear boots. Honestly, it was a wonder she made it home with them -- well, really, she had removed them before ascending the stairs of her apartment complex in fear that they were going to break.

Somberly, she realized, That ship obviously sailed before I boarded, and it had my boots on it, but she couldn't dwell. Colder months were coming and she couldn't just walk around barefoot. Actually, she could ... after losing feeling in her feet due to frostbite it would probably not be too terrible, but there were other options. With a quick stand and turn -- and a glance at still-not-boiling water on the stove -- she found herself in a bathroom. Nothing much adorned it, just standard facilities, but there was a small cupboard to the entrance's left in which she kept few things. Regardless, she was sure she had other shoes in there. Grabbing and turning a round little handle -- and giving it a swing -- revealed: a pair of high heels. How about no. Pushing these aside showed another pair of high heels and her face drooped until she located a pair of slightly-worn, black-and-white slippers which she gratefully saw and concluded she couldn't wait for a new pair of boots, but -- boots or not -- frostbite was worse.

Closing that cupboard after receiving temporary footwear actually required a bit of force (the door was slightly canted) though she cared to be quiet for she disliked the way the wood creaked at her touch. No matter, she moved on, slipping her feet into something and turning to leave the room, but as soon as her eyes found their new general direction she froze; she found herself staring right into a mirror and immediately felt awful. Luckily for her, there was a wastebasket only steps away, but she instead chose to evacuate the sight as fast as possible ... only to carelessly stub her toe into the corner of the door. Ugh! See, if she had a pair of boots on, that wouldn't have hurt nearly as much, and while a grunt of pain was mildly relieving she just couldn't resist the urge to curse.

"Dammit." Muttering profanity generally was not her thing but she was glad to have kept it quiet while she hopped on one foot to let the pain die down. Talking to herself usually helped as well. "Oh, okay, more things can suck too. That's fine, just give me coffee." Seeing small bubbles in the pot on the stove wasn't exactly what she'd call boiling, but ... Who cares? If I let it boil, with what my luck's been, I'll just burn myself; at this point she just wanted coffee and was glad to open the back of her coffee machine to find fresh grounds placed in a filter already. Had she been less excited, due to what already happened this morning, that she did this last night, she most likely would not have been smiling as she turned the burner off, took the water off the stove, and began to pour it down the filter into the waiting basin below.

One comforter haphazardly retrieved and an hour later found Sunset sitting in a newly-made bed, in a much better mood, with a second cup of coffee in her hands. Also finding herself happy that at least the hot plate of her coffee machine worked to keep the drink warm, or she might've thrown it out by now. Well, I'd break the damn thing more first and then throw it out. At any rate, she was feeling much better having coffee with sugar in her hands; even though she didn't enjoy the sensation sugar left in her mouth all that much, she felt it was a nice addition to keep her sanity in check this particular morning.

Alas, like anything she had gotten to enjoy lately, it was going to have to come to an end soon. Granted, the principal let her stop working early last night due to the fact that she seemed, 'tired,' which to Sunset just sounded like the state she was actually in had been recognized. However, getting off early also meant going in early and Sunset believed if she didn't live up to the expectation of being there by ten that morning it would not bode well for her.

Not that things had been boding well for her recently but there was no reason she could see to make things worse. With the pace that Sunset expected she could move in her current condition, she expected to take at least an hour to walk all the way there. Hell, it might even take her two. Sunset's subsequent sigh sent ripples through her coffee, and she knew -- if she wanted to exercise the better part of valor -- she'd have to bathe and dress probably right after she drained the warm liquid in her mug. She laid back with another extended exhale, careful to keep her mug upright, closed her eyes, and let herself groan. Keeping with that mood of frustration, she thought it quite alright to whine a little bit. After all, things hadn't quite gone the way she'd wanted, so she said the first thing that came to her mind.

"This is the worst ... "

Author's Note

ALRIGHT! IT'S DONE, I mean i'm actually writing this the evening before it goes up because I'd like to proofread it. I don't think I'm going to care much about proofreading the author's note here, but I guess we'll see. Anyway, this has really been a long time coming, and I swear to god I didn't mean to write this many words. Like I had decided to aim for 900 words and I had an idea to get to 900 words, but then I got there and my idea hadn't seen fruition. I'm definitely not going to hold myself to the standard of this much each chapter, I doubt I really could, and maybe I could have divided this into more than just the one chapter. But now that I'm back in New York after helping my mom fix her place to sell I'm just excited to write some! I mean I think that this is honestly a better written chapter for a novel, but the first chapter I wrote was originally a practice of figurative language, so I suppose that that makes sense. But I digress, I'm really not an author, at least not a very proficient one, but the way to fix that is to keep writing! And if I share my work with you lovely people I'm certain that I'm going to get some great critique that'll help me in my journey to come. I feel like after being away from my beloved writing journals for, like, 8 months I've become a worse writer than I even was before! So hit it with everything you got ladies and gents, b-but you know if you see something that I did really well that's, uh, also welcome! Thanks to anyone for reading the rambling of my mind, and if any of you think it can become a likable story to read let me know! It'll probably make me write more!

P.S.: I gotta say, I was writing that part about coffee while listening to Jeff and Casey Lee Williams' "Caffeine" Fantastic way to start the morning I might add, and now I'm going to call my brother and ask him to use his Rooster Teeth First account to watch the new episode tomorrow. SUPER HYPE

4 ~ First move

Spinning around yielded to Sunset that no one had appeared in the door frame she recently went through, but the sound she heard had certainly come from behind. Confusedly she looked up. Above the door from which Sunset entered was a large depression in the wall -- an upper extension to the room of which she was unaware; it stood over the lower area with a watchful gaze akin to that of a balcony. Light from the windows in the room exposed the wall farthest from her. Littered with shelves, she could see that it was adorned neatly with polished, clean black cases of varying sizes and shapes. Images of different instruments danced in her mind but her focus rested on the source of the startling noise.

What was clearly identifiable as a waist-high railing obscured the lower half of a formally-dressed girl with long, almost jet-black, shining hair. Steely purple eyes coldly glared directly toward Sunset -- who debated speaking first. Quickly, she decided that being questioned wasn't currently preferred. Harboring a simple stare back at familiar purple orbs, and an eagerness to leave, she spoke.

"Octavia," Sunset pretended to be unfazed by the unexpected encounter and thought a moment. Octavia said nothing during this pause and simply glared on. To Sunset's knowledge, Octavia never focused on what did not align with her interests; Sunset guessed this would make escaping the interaction much easier. It did not take much time for Sunset to produce words to dismiss herself. "I did not know you were here. I'll leave you to your morning." She turned to the door without breaking from Octavia's glare, but just as she motioned to start walking Octavia responded.

"Sunset," Well-ironed, purple, icy eyes were not dissuaded; Sunset felt reminded of the warmth sapped away when making contact with a certain metal handle. Octavia paused, mirroring the way Sunset had addressed her, before bluntly going on with a newly found disdain in her tone. "What are you doing here?" This was what Sunset expected from Octavia: all business. Sunset's eyes flicked to a hand Octavia rose to gesture toward the window.

"Should you not be out there? Say, cleaning your mess perhaps?" Octavia questioned -- thus eliciting an internal grimace from Sunset which did not affect her neutral expression. This was exactly why she didn't want to run into anyone on her way here, for people were certain to do nothing today but annoy her. Octavia spoke again, before Sunset drafted a reply, with impatient curiosity lining her words. "Well? I find it strange that Principal Celestia would not have you get started right away." Sunset dreadfully wished to roll her eyes.

What luck that she would run into Octavia of all people! Due to the black-haired girl being on the Student Council, she would precisely know what was happening in the school today; should she ascertain that Sunset sneaked into the building, there would undoubtedly be punishing consequences, so -- without desire for more work -- Sunset quickly passed a lie through her teeth.

"Apparently they aren't ready for me yet, so Celestia told me to wait somewhere and come back a little before ten." Octavia was a cat staring down a toy, or perhaps more like concentrating on prey. For a moment she simply stared, never blinking, until she finally let out a hum. Something in the Councilor's gaze warned Sunset of suspicion. Hence she held the eye contact with practiced stoicism.

"Would you not have preferred the library? Where there is something to do?" Sunset's interrogator lifted a black book so that it could be seen. Immediately the interrogated shrugged her shoulders. If only I just went to the library, she thought.

"Going for a walk felt like a better way to shake off the cold." Skepticism still appeared clutching Octavia's expression -- with good reason -- at Sunset's most recent fib. Wordless staring continued for another moment, but relief came when When Octavia finally blinked and looked to her book. Eagerly, Sunset sought escape. "Sorry for distracting you from your b-"

BOOSH.

Looking to Sunset as quickly as she looked away, Octavia slammed her book closed, stood up, and spoke unceremoniously. "Actually, I just finished." Are you kidding? "I figured I might go to the library and find another good read." Aqua eyes narrowed in puzzlement. "Perhaps passing the time would be better with some company, though." Relatively pale fingers gestured over the railing and pointed to Sunset's left. "Would you care to play some chess?"

Following the challenger's hand led Sunset's eyes to a wall where a single stair, logically belonging to an entire case, stuck out. This was strange. Octavia didn't even spend her free time 'accompanied' by friends, so perhaps she wanted something from Sunset after all. "Or perhaps you wouldn't mind my joining you on your, 'walk.'" Suddenly the challenged one harbored no question that Octavia had an angle. Should Sunset run away now, there was no doubt Octavia would know, to some extent, that the jacket-clad liar was guilty of something.

Resigned, Sunset began walking toward the stair, but was interrupted by a chilling suggestion from Octavia. "Wouldn't it be rude to leave the door open like that?"

Instantly Sunset froze. There was no mirror or window placed that could reflect the door's state to her, so how could Octavia know? Something about this whole situation urged caution. As Sunset closed the door, most of her said to run, though a curious part of her pondered, How bad could this be?

Apparently it was very, very bad. When Sunset reached the stairs' apex, things were far too relaxed. Most of the upper section was space likely used to prepare and tune instruments; three small tables sat right of the stair well, a few sets of chairs were stacked in a corner, and everything was neatly covered in the same, red soundproofing material. By far the worst part was when Octavia revealed a large thermos while setting up a chess board. 'Eerie' was the only word Sunset could use to describe what was said next. "The sun rises so late now; it feels early ... want some coffee?" Such strange hospitality alarmed Sunset, for this was never Octavia's behavior.

Every time Sunset met with the girl she was quiet. Never once did she give an opening to exploit or yield ground when Sunset transgressed. All that she could do, in fact, to keep Octavia out of the way was to have other people that were exploitable do it for her. That isn't to say that Sunset never antagonized Octavia, for years now the Councilor was kept from becoming Council President -- something Sunset was told numerous times vexed the composed, quiet one.

When the coffee was finally accepted, Sunset was prepared to have it thrown into her face, but no scorching liquid seared her. Instead, Sunset found herself with a hot coffee once more and wondering what to do when Octavia pushed the white queen's pawn two spaces.

Over the next fifteen minutes, the two exchanged few words. Pawn lines were drawn, attacked, weakened, and reinforced. Neither side had a clear advantage until Octavia moved her queen to capture a bishop. "Check," she called, and suddenly Sunset was forced to make defensive moves. In just a few plays Sunset's king was backed into his corner -- surrounded by friendly pawns, his knight, bishop, and rook. Mostly he was safe, but Sunset became more concerned each move about her queen. Should she place the vital piece in the wrong square, then Octavia would fork both royalties with her own knight.

Tension was an understatement to the assaulted Sunset's emotion, for she didn't know what move to make -- neither in life nor on the board. Saving her queen seemed practically impossible ... and once it was taken Octavia would be in the perfect position to move in for the kill. Luckily she would not have to make any immediate decision as her opponent cut the mental strain with a remark.

"You do recognize that you are in over your head, right?" Sunset looked away from the board. Alas, all she could communicate was a nod, for she knew Octavia was referring to more than their game. Purple eyes swiftly became daggers. "Nobody wants anything to do with you." Rapidly the chess board interested Sunset's gaze much more. "Those five girls who are supposed to become your friends are not particularly enthused by the prospect either." Quietly, Sunset reached for the metal thermos cup that now housed a small bit of room temperature coffee and sipped.

"I know that." Finally she met Octavia's stare again and made a statement. With a tilt of her head, Sunset's opponent raised a brow -- uncharacteristically, for the first time this encounter, giving her features some emotion.

"Might I ask what you intend to do with that knowledge?" I have no idea, was Sunset's first thought, and it must have shown on her face. "Figures, I expect you will have a rough time. People will be harassing you and always getting in your way." Octavia took a sip from her own coffee now. "Never able to get what you try so hard for." Sunset grit her teeth while she realized the parallels. "Does that sound familiar?" With that straw ferocity entered her eyes and she stood up in full preparation to speak her mind. Too bad for her that Octavia wasn't having it, as she also stood and raised her voice just before Sunset could ask why they were having this conversation at all.

"You must be dying to know what I want from you! You just wish you could conveniently wither away and be forgotten, is that it!" Sunset was stricken by surprise. Never once had Octavia been loud or aggressive in any way, and she pretty much took the words from Sunset's head. "In honesty, I am indifferent for the most part, but the council let me add the last item for being the one to give you this."

Stunned Sunset speechlessly waited while Octavia retrieved a single piece of paper from her bag; on it was a header stating that Sunset Shimmer was a bane to the student body and a list of various activities she was meant to be forbidden from. Club activities, school lunches, dances, pep rallies, and practically most events outside academic pursuit. Finally, on the last bullet of the list, Sunset understood what Octavia's goal was from the start.

She will not be allowed any positions or weight within the Student Council for so long as this petition stands.

Directly underneath the final statement were tens of signatures. Council members she'd extorted, students she'd wronged, and even faculty who she made look the other way had signed. Underneath them all were signature lines for the principals, and underneath those as well was a line for Sunset. Immediately she wondered, what if I don't sign, and Octavia obliged her without any inquiry.

"'What if I refuse to sign?' Is that what you wonder?" Sunset's eyes showed mostly white at that. She read my mind again. Uncannily, Octavia didn't miss a beat. "No, I cannot see your thoughts." Fear and caution encroached Sunset's mental state like Julius Caesar in Cisalpine Gaul. Stop that, it's scary! "I shall make it simple, Sunset. Sign at the bottom and I will forgo telling Celestia that you broke in to avoid running into her." What the hell, Sunset was sufficiently intimidated and sat down with the paper in hand.

"How did you-"

"Does it matter?" Octavia seemed many steps ahead of her today, so Sunset decided she just wasn't winning anytime soon. Octavia pressured farther by placing a pen next to the chess set. "Just sign it, and you may wallow all you wish."

Sadly Sunset couldn't help it; she was beaten. Again, pure failure stood out in her mind and she signed the page with taciturn disappointment. Instantly after the signature was made, Octavia snatched the paper, stuffed it into her bag, and grabbed the slightly-unfinished thermos cup of coffee near Sunset. With a quick move of the wrist Octavia seemed like she was going to throw it at Sunset; this made the defeated girl yelp in anticipation, but she never ended up with coffee on her face or clothes. Rather Octavia picked up her things and began toward the stairs. "Others are sure not to show such mercy. Prepare yourself."

Disappearing forever was all Sunset wanted to do in that moment; she wished she could just become invisible and never have to talk to anyone again. One final remark from Octavia reminded her that such a thing was not possible. "Just leave the chess board as it is. Hopefully I should see the chance to end you sometime soon." After hearing that, Sunset decided that she was going to study the board very carefully. No way on Earth was she going to just roll over and lose her queen. If she was called a bane to the student body then she was going to really be a bane to the student body.

Obviously she knew it would have to be after, as Octavia put it, she cleaned her mess.

Author's Note

Another one bites the dust! Damn I feel like I'm writing a novel here. Five chapters of what is essentially exposition requires an equal amount of meat to the action right? Well, that's fine, I suppose it's good practice. See, right now I'm actually writing another novel. A super serious one that I might actually try to publish one day. On one hand that's exciting, but on the other it's a lot of work. There's so much proofreading, rewriting, adding information, and making shit more compact. IT WEIGHS ON MY SOUL, so here I can come to write, make mistakes, and only lightly proofread you know? It's not so serious, I mean it might suck, but it's nice learning material and it gives me a chance to unwind so to speak (or write?). That being said I DO still want to make things well written in this story, so if you see errors, even ones I just decided not to bother myself with fixing, PLEASE point them out. I'm certain there will be mistakes I make without realizing that I absolutely want to forego making in the future. If the Author's notes end up seeing even MORE poorly written it's because I draw the proofreading line here (RIGHT HERE, well before here but you get the idea). Sue me if you must

-Cheers and happy stories!

5 ~ Chase and Censure

Finally, Sunset thought while heaving breath. Today was the culmination of all her shoveling, paving, and stair building. Starting off, the job didn't seem too hard; most of it was just rejuvenating the Earth from the crater she was responsible for. Other construction workers even said the work would only take a day or two at the most, but the principal soon made it clear that would only be if everyone there was helping.

Unfortunately Sunset was tasked with doing everything alone. Exhausting though it was, she managed to complete the reparations using only a little more than six of her allotted seven days and -- although the labor was not chosen -- delight overtook as she sprinkled one final load of dirt over recently-thrown grass seed. None of which, still requiring cold stratification, would root this year.

Even though temperatures had been consistently just below zero centigrade all week, Sunset found herself helpless to resist the satisfaction given by lying on the cold concrete she placed. Not that it wasn't pleasant, as she'd been working restlessly for hours and the induction was helping to finally cool her down, but she still wished to spite the job in some way. Oh well, she distractedly mused. Maybe I'll think of something later. However, for the time being, her mostly-intact leather jacket laid close -- getting colder by the moment -- and all she wanted was to stare up at a cloud-garnished, blue sky in peace and quiet. Almost as if the universe heard her desire, and decided to poke fun, her wish was granted for all of ten seconds.

"Wow, that is impressive!" Obnoxious was the voice of Parlor Trick 'Magician' Trixie Lulamoon cutting over otherwise tolerable breezes. Two sets of footsteps approached Sunset's chosen locale of rest but she didn't care or need to look to know who they were. During the passed few days council members and affiliates had been coming to the school to both observe Sunset's progress and review the schedules for upcoming activities. "You were not kidding that she was actually doing a passable job!"

Without Octavia, Trixie was never allowed to do much of anything for the council, as she was only a prospective member hoping one day to take the place of her quiet companion. "Hey, O, look at this!" Suddenly Sunset's view of the sky was slightly blocked by Trixie's face looming above. "She's on the ground!" Annoying laughter was accompanied by the equally-annoying sound of a small bell on the end of a pointy blue, 'magic' hat she wore. "Right under Trixie's foot where she belongs!" Momentarily, Sunset thought about making a rebuttal but decided there was no need to stoke the fire of conflict any more than her presence already was.

"Yes, yes, she's absolutely risible." Octavia dully stated as she walked passed the pair without even glancing. "Mess around all you want later Trixie; we're already late." Apparently her to-the-point attitude was working in Sunset's favor today. Alas, it could not stop the pain that arose when Trixie walked over the prone girl's right wrist. Disappointment showed on the magician's face when Sunset refused to wince or cry at the attack, but she continued to walk toward the school nonetheless.

Instead of sitting up and beginning to massage her harmed wrist, Sunset opted not to move. All that she had to do before leaving, after all, was haul the shovel, soil, and seed back to the parking lot and she could leave.

There was no reason to worry about the principal being upset that she'd left without saying anything, for the job was done early and Sunset could always spin a lie for leaving quickly. Relaxation, maybe even sleep, was about to come to her while Octavia and Trixie's footsteps faded, but the elements had other plans.

After hearing the main school door close, Sunset noticed something in the corner of her eyes. Inspecting it farther revealed a large, gray cloud. Being out for a while in the snow didn't bother Sunset at all, but if it had been rain or hail ... there would be a problem. Even though she had not completely cooled off, regrettably, she decided to finish her work for the day and depart. If nothing else, she convicted, doing so much work over the week severely increased her strength and endurance.

Initially she thought two trips would be necessary, as the large bags of dirt and grass seed weighed quite a bit. However, by hoisting both of them up with the shovel's handle as a base, she effectively made it one haul. Wind began picking up while she walked around the school's eastern face and it seemed a storm was really incoming. Over the few minutes it took her to cross between the front and rear of the building, trees began intensely rustling; so much so that the heavy lifter couldn't hear the bickering ahead until she found herself in the middle of it.

"Excuse me! 'Give her a chance,' after everything she-" Directly around the corner was a semicircle of familiar faces and contrasting visuals. Looking at them was like standing in front of ice cream dispensing machines. Rainbow Dash stood in the center -- with her eccentric multicolored hair which suited her name -- arguing with purple-haired Rarity to her right. Between them, Fluttershy nervously played with light-pink locks and Pinkie Pie stood directly to Rainbow's left sporting a much darker pink. Applejack, who was left of Pinkie, ended up being the odd one out with plain, blonde hair.

Everyone, including Sunset, was dressed almost identically save for color differences; tights, skirts, boots, jackets or sweaters adorned the conspicuous lot. Mainly, the difference in apparel between the six were Sunset's less-versatile slippers. Nobody spoke as all eyes were transfixed onto the motionless laborer. Rarity was the first to break silence but was soon interrupted by who she addressed.

"Sunset, I, we were just-"

"Talking about me? Don't worry, I noticed." No way was Sunset about to allow another trivial conversation stand in her way. Unwavering, she walked passed them to deliver the three items into the back of a parked blue truck before wordlessly walking back through the group without stopping. Rainbow, seeing this obvious disregard, forcibly jogged ahead with annoyance written on her features.

Her tone grumbled with discontentment when she growled, "Don't just ignore us!" Irritating her more was Sunset's decision to roll aqua circles at the exclamation. "We didn't just happen to show up here you know!" Favorably to Rainbow, this at least received verbal recognition.

"Fine, fine, let's just get this over with. What do you want?" Rather fast, Sunset found herself surrounded by the five girls and the school's wall. Fluttershy began the group's statement with a soft tone.

"Well, we weren't really prepared to deal with you, but then Principal Celestia asked-"

Pinkie rudely stepped forward to add -- though she seemed to be beating around the main issue -- to her friend's sentence, "Others too! Principal Celestia and others asked us to, uh, well..." With another trailing off, Sunset looked to Rarity, but received no resolution. Applejack finally shed light on their ineffective babbling.

"For cryin' out loud, Principal Celestia and the Council asked us to keep an eye on you just before classes were officially back in session!" Ire and irony flashed through Sunset's mind. You have got to be joking, was her first impression. When her second impression came she decided to voice it, as it was much more productive.

She sighed out, "May I ask for what exactly?"

Rainbow, seeing an opportunity to make her position clear, dashed to explain, "People at the school don't trust you, slippers, and I quite frankly don't either!" Ugh, Sunset pinched the bridge of her nose with her thumb and forefinger. "I would bet you already have some ridiculous revenge scheme already cooked up." 'People' were apparently pretty observant, as Sunset did mull over such plots. However, lacking in resources or opportunities, there was no possibility she would be able to do anything anytime soon. Even if it was something small designed simply to spite her defeat; there were basically too many eyes already watching for her to so much as breathe in the wrong direction.

"Oh yes," Sarcasm oozed from an annoyed Sunset. "My most recent machinations are all stored in my 'Nefarious Plots' folder under lock and key." Rainbow's face intentionally displayed vexation at this.

... Pinkie acted as though she didn't pick up the verbal irony. "Really? Well, give us the key!" Sunset was uncertain if Pinkie was just joking, but Applejack shaking her head gave some implication. Apparently, the five didn't much appreciate Sunset's humor, and the blonde girl ignored it almost as soon as she heard it.

"Whatever, why don't we just go to Sugar Cube Corner and figure out how to handle this somewhere warmer?" Sunset was bothered by this suggestion, as it was basically an order they were giving.

Rainbow nodded upon hearing this and approached Sunset with a fist in the air. "The real question is whether or not we're going to have to drag you there." Staring at the fist urged Sunset to just play along, but her desire to be alone outweighed the intimidation. All she had to do was somehow make an opening.

"Unnecessary, though I'm sure you're disappointed. Let's just go." Rainbow did show dissatisfaction, but the whole group turned toward the corner nonetheless. This was Sunset's opportunity; with a very quick turn of the heel, she dashed in the opposite direction. Applejack was in the way, but she did not react fast enough to Sunset's head-first tackle. Everyone else in the group turned toward the commotion to unhappily see Sunset rolling to her feet and bolting.

Rainbow began instant pursuit with hope to more physically relay anger while the others aided their assaulted friend. Surprisingly, Sunset found her improvised maneuver to work better than expected. Only one chased her and there was a comfortable margin between them. Just one slip, however, changed that margin; about half way to the school's Western face, Sunset's slipper nearly tripped her. Fortune kept her on her feet. Though her left slipper practically flew behind her and she concluded there was no time to retrieve or reequip the shoe. Stepping out of the other slipper turned out much more effective for maintaining speed.

Instead of heading into the school through the back, where Rainbow could easily follow, Sunset chose to try her luck with the same door she'd worked her way into six days back when running into Octavia. Each of the other four girls had by then began the chase too but Sunset was not deterred from trying. Of course, she didn't know if she could make it into the building before Rainbow caught up, but escape would be much easier if she could manage to open the side door in time.

Upon rounding the familiar corner, and arriving in front of the metal entry, Sunset furiously fiddled with its handle. Rainbow displayed ignorance about the door's flaw, for she stopped for a moment when she noticed Sunset trying to break through. Amusement on the colorfully-haired chaser became surprise as the door swung open. Pride of skill seeped into Sunset's mind and she expediently entered -- trying to pull the door shut quickly. Only an inch of space was left between the door and frame ... but her hope became concern when a small object suddenly wedged into that gap.

One of her own slippers had been launched so that it would not enter the building, yet it kept the door from closing. With the shock arisen because of the obstacle, she let the door handle go, and what was supposed to become a barrier swung back open in the reactive force. Instinctively, Sunset tried for the handle again, but Rainbow's hand also reaching for the door changed her mind.

Pursuit was back in place and Sunset ended up making the exact same decision she had six days ago: left at the hall's end toward the cafeteria. Only this time she was running, and the person chasing was hot on her heels.

They passed the music room, and when Sunset made it to the cafeteria doors she found them locked. Rainbow's fingers had only been a hair's breadth away, but the stop and shift of direction produced just a little more space. Not once did Sunset dare try running into a classroom, for if they weren't locked there was only one way out. Rather, she chose to continue through the halls. All she had left, before running full circle by the front office, was the auditorium. If it too was locked, then she would be done for, but if she made it inside then she could escape through another side door.

Pushing the auditorium's wood double door open produced immense relief yet she couldn't help wondering, Why is this room open? Curiosity was warranted but she didn't care that much. Rainbow had been slowing down, and once Sunset vaulted onto the auditorium's stage the thought of escape overjoyed her. All she had left was to push through the curtains, the stage double door exit, and-

CHINK!

Sweltering pain first entered her lower leg and -- soon after -- her forehead smacked into the stage floor. Crying out, she curled up and hugged her left ankle. Who tripped me? There's no way one of the other girls got ahead, so what happened? When the pain slightly calmed down, she looked up to see Trixie placing a steel support on the floor. Rainbow's footsteps got louder, stopped, and the footsteps of the other four pursuers soon followed. The same, annoying to Sunset, laugh from earlier came to her ears, and suddenly the pain from having her wrist trampled seemed like a playful punch.

"Am I glad now that Octavia asked me to situate this curtain frame!" Satisfaction came to Trixie from her attack after all, as it was impossible for Sunset not to express the harm of heavy metal bashing her bone. Rainbow thanked Trixie for the assistance, and then asked what Sunset thought a very disturbing question.

"Is there any extra rope?" Very rapidly Sunset's willingness to comply increased.

"Wait, wait, is that really necess-" Lifting her by her jacket collar was a bloody-nosed, upset Applejack. Had Sunset escaped, she never would have dreamed of repenting. Considering the circumstances, though, she figured it might be in her best interest, so she tried to flash the blonde an apologetic grin. "I'm really sorry for your nose?" The sorrow came out more like a question rather than a statement and Trixie smiled -- giving Rainbow a length of heavy duty polyester cordage.

Applejack then dropped Sunset -- who yelped as her ankle buckled under the sudden weight load -- and convicted to her friends, "I'll tie her myself."

Moments later, Sunset was entirely immobilized on the auditorium stage -- staring at doors she was so close to. Just a few more steps, or if she had just anticipated Trixie, and she would have been well on her way to a cozy room. Instead, captors surrounded her and she was anything but cozy. Trixie, the piece that toppled Sunset's hopes, excused herself a few minutes after, as Octavia was very intolerant of distractions. Rarity, on the other hand, was still present and very patient of the preoccupation.

"We can't just keep her like this the whole weekend." she pointed out. Applejack disagreed, though, seeing no reason they couldn't just leave Sunset to be miserable. Obviously, Sunset didn't much care for the idea and became only more willing to acquiesce. After a few moments of practically useless debate, Fluttershy addressed the prisoner.

"Celestia pretty much mandated us to watch you." Sunset looked at the quiet girl and was grateful to be close enough to hear. "That means you'd only run into more trouble if you actually got away, you know?" Pink hair fell to one side as Fluttershy tilted her head. "We were even prepared to treat you pretty normally, so why run in the first place?" At that Sunset looked to the side. Why run? Simple answer.

She grumbled, "I wanted to be alone; is that so wrong?" Applejack kneeled at this and narrowed her eyes.

"Given the wrongs you've done and the suspicion around you, I'd say you should understand why that concerns us and others." Applejack made sense to Sunset, but she still felt somehow attacked. Wriggling in the excessively tight bonds -- Seriously, this is a terrible feeling of helplessness! -- brought her to resignation, and she simply made one final plea.

"Okay, okay, you're right, so I made a hasty choice." Rainbow rolled her eyes. "Look, follow me around, spy on me. I have nothing to hide, so I don't care. Just please let me go to my room and spend my last weekend of relative peace with some semblance of solitude." Fluttershy sympathized with Sunset's position even if only a little, and didn't see any harm with the idea.

"Couldn't we technically keep tabs on her at home anyway?" Applejack wasn't particularly fond of her soft-voiced companion's idea, but Pinkie had immediately been excited about the idea. Jumping up in agreement expressed her imagined anticipation.

"Oh! You mean Like a stakeout? That could be fun."

"I'm not sure. It sounds a little risky." Still somewhat tired, Rainbow voiced skepticism and Applejack concurred. After being tackled unaware due to Sunset's duplicity, she didn't like any plan where their captive got her way. Eyes ended up on Rarity -- who had been quiet for most of the conversation. "Majority vote?"

"Hmm..." There was reason for her silence: she didn't quite know how she felt. On one hand, she wanted to give Sunset a chance. However, their prisoner didn't have a particularly wholesome track record for such opportunities. Even so, Rarity remembered Sunset crying in her defeat; She seemed completely confused -- yet curious -- regarding their reason for lenience. Surely there had to be someone in there worth a little kindness. "Why don't we just try it? If she throws it away again, then we could take more extreme measures right?"

Rainbow huffed and named just one term. "Alright Sunset, we'll try things your way once, but on one condition." Sunset's eyes narrowed and she was uncertain whether or not to be afraid. "All of us were going to go to a show downtown the day after tomorrow, but then we were asked to do this." Sunset could see where this was going from a mile away. "You go with us, we mostly leave you alone tonight and tomorrow, and we're done with you from Monday onward." Without much choice in sight Sunset agreed.

"Deal, okay, just untie me already. My ankle is exploding." Rainbow, glad to have things over with, began fulfilling the request. Only, she made sure to take a healthy amount of time doing so, and made a scene to yank on the knot by Sunset's recent injury.

"Ouch! Could you be a little more careful!" Rainbow was pointedly not cautious, but Sunset found herself painfully placing weight on her legs soon enough. When the group walked outside, Sunset having retrieved her shoes, they found it to be flurrying. For a moment, she thought the walk home might be somewhat comfortable, but that idea was thrown out the window when Applejack and Rainbow clung to either arm. Flashing a puzzled look, she asked them what the idea was, and Applejack gave a blunt answer.

"I'd prefer it if you didn't bust my nose again."

Author's Note

Alright, here she is. I can't delay it any longer.

This chapter was rather challenging for me. I'm not sure what it was, but I just couldn't seem to get the words to describe what's going on in my head onto the page. Maybe I need to take a break from all these words. I think this is one of the more poorly written sects to this story. Too many adverbs, repetition, and extraneous information. Something tells me I'll come back and change it again, but to those of you who want an idea where this story is going in my head: have a field day. Feel free to voice your comments as to what this chapter does wrong and needs, for I am taking a break from this story for at least one day. Perhaps stepping back for a bit will recharge my batteries so to speak.

Cheers,
Merry Christmas!

6 ~ Haunted

During Friday evening Sunset enjoyed a modicum of solitude after being escorted from the school to her small abode. When she awoke Saturday thoughts of continued privacy delighted her. However, upon stepping outside holding coffee she lamented observing two rested people. Applejack and Rarity sat against the wall opposite her door also holding paper cups presumably of coffee, and Sunset hoped she was dreaming. She raised her brow and addressed the pair. "Have a good night?" Following the remark Rarity stood and stretched her arms upward.

Relaxed blue eyes supported her indifferent expression as she replied. "Things weren't so bad," her statement founded instant interrogation. "Where were you off to?" Applejack lifted her head and mimicked Sunset's raised brow. Having a good night's rest, and not being obligated to be somewhere early, gave the leather clad slipper wearing girl more ease than she possessed the previous night.

Every move, Sunset recognized, was being scouted by this group. Their dedication made her wish that she had in fact been working on some nefarious scheme which could gratify their effort, but in this instance she disappointed. "All I was going to do was stand outside with my coffee." Any hope she had, by this point, of isolation was gone, so she chose to play along that she might relish her drink without conflict. "Something tells me you're going to join me, so shall we?" Applejack spoke not but rose to her feet and gestured to the nearest staircase. Out of complete spite Sunset showed them to another stairwell in the opposite direction.

They saw after descending that snow no longer fell, but fog permeated their locale. Looking around yielded no sight save for the stairs, the trio who chose to inhabit them, and snow dusted asphalt that stretched into the veil. One moment Sunset thought of escaping her parole, but that would be unwise with her watchers knowing the precise location she would return. Instead of continuing to concoct exit strategies she decided spending her morning with these two was acceptable considering alternatives.

Had Rainbow been present, tension of possible conflict would have been impossible to ignore, and if it was Pinkie Pie then the eccentricity so early could be maddening. Sunset realized that she would most prefer if Fluttershy was in Applejack's place. Not because Applejack was, in any way, describable as obnoxious; Fluttershy was just certain to be taciturn. Although Sunset would more favor the two quieter girls' company; she could understand why the group forbade them from serving a shift as stakeout pair. It would be too easy for her to slip away.

Whatever, she thought, I'll just bear with it like I did with Octavia. It turned out not to be so bad. From time to time they would exchange dull banter; Sunset even laughed at some idle humor. Part of her felt apprehensive with the laid-back atmosphere, as it reminded her how things were before Octavia reprimanded her. However, no time during the interaction was a voice raised with rage, and she soon set down an emptied mug.

Unwitting, Sunset found her thoughts focused onto an unconsidered question from Rarity. "Have you considered doing something extra-curricular? It might help things become somewhat normal for you around school." Sunset took but a second to register the question and produce a flat response.

"That's not allowed." Rarity tilted her head to express puzzlement, and Sunset elaborated. "Our student council banned me from anything of the sort. Basically all I can do is attend classes." Reeling back, Rarity began fiddling with her own empty paper cup; she was going to say something more but Sunset continued. "Why? Are you looking for ways to keep tabs on me easier?" When Rarity dropped the cup it became clear that Sunset's question struck the nail on the head.

"Sorry, I didn't mean-" After hearing that Sunset couldn't help but chuckle and interrupt.

"There's no need to apologize; I only asked because that's exactly what I'd be trying to do in your situation." Applejack chimed in, attempting to assist her discovered friend.

"Really?" She spoke with skeptical intonation. "Are you just anticipating what we might be doing so it'll be easier for you to sneak off and do whatever heinous thing's on your mind?" For a moment Sunset wondered if that was her precise plan. However, even desiring revenge, she knew she had no real schemes or opportunities available, so she decided to make things relatively easy and speak truth.

"Honestly, I admire your dedication to seeing this through." Surprise crossed the blonde's face. "I mean you defeated me, took away my power, but you're still unsure of what tricks I might still have left." Sunset stood as the cold, without her hot drink, began seeping into her stationary form. "If anything I think you and the council have thought it through pretty well; I can't even walk out my door with discretion."

Thud went Rarity's boot as she stood; calling Sunset's attention. "How exactly does that make you feel, though?" Sunset whirled around to make eye contact. "Doesn't it tick you off?" How did that make her feel? Well, it was upsetting and inconvenient but she couldn't say that. Choosing the wrong words here would do nothing to alleviate suspicion. Rather than speaking her mind precisely she would give Rarity a half truth.

Bringing her fist to her chin in a thoughtful gesture Sunset enunciated, "I suppose I feel somewhat lucky. Things could be much worse, but I'll refrain from giving you any ideas." Humming at this, Applejack joined the two on her feet, stepped forward, and spun to face the conversation.

"Something tells me you'll just get used to it over time." After hearing this Sunset's eyes found the ground. That was an appalling idea to her, so she sighed, looked to Rarity, and met Applejack's eyes once more with intent to change the subject.

"Uh huh," desultory, she agreed, "so are you all just going to keep changing shifts sitting outside my door over the next twenty-four hours if I stay inside?" Although Rarity hoped it would not come to that she agreed with Applejack's response. Jutting her index finger at Sunset the blonde convicted.

"We'll do whatever it takes to be positive that you don't start to feel too lucky." Grimacing mentally, Sunset considered going back up to her room and locking the door in their faces. However, feeling uneasy with spending the day cooped up talking to herself, she decided to try something that might be some mental benefit.

Stepping up two of the metal stairs toward her room inspired Sunset. "Looks like we're going for a walk, then." Rarity folded her arms across her chest and asked what first came to mind.

"Where are we going for a walk, then?" Looking away from the stairwell displayed an unchanged quantity of fog, and Sunset's view of it yielded the precise answer to that question.

"I have absolutely no idea."

After dealing with their empty coffee containers Sunset led the trio on an excursion through haze. None knew where they were going, but each of them would take the journey one step at a time. Of course, at any time one of them could pull out a phone and navigate via map applications, but that was unnecessary since Sunset was only walking for the sake of movement.

Near midday the group noticed that visibility was starting to increase. Sunset somewhat smiled thinking about discovering what foreign, or familiar, part of town she would see. Upon stepping onto a concrete path she thought perhaps they found a parking lot. What building is it? she mused. Excitement built as a stone pedestal began phasing through the white curtain. A statue? What statue, the only one I know is ... Her unfinished thought trailed off, the fog started lifting faster, and not long after the rearing stone horse upon the pedestal could be identified so too could Canterlot High.

"I can't believe it." Rarity's voice was soft, and it only got softer as she continued. "School, of all places, is where you brought us. This is a genuine surprise." Sunset was quick, feeling a need to defend herself, to point out what she thought would be clear.

"Hey, don't say that like this was my intention! This must have been some route my subconscious-" Spinning around to face her entourage ended up only perplexing her. Turning should have placed her gaze away from the school, but still her eyes found the statue. Repeating her turn changed nothing, and trying to look over her shoulder also produced the building's sight. Everywhere she looked was just school, school, and more school.

Rapidly Sunset's heart started beating. This was not making sense. Was she going insane? If she was, what did this look like to anyone around? Freaking out did not seem pragmatic, so she closed her eyes, looked down, and started walking away from where she faced. After counting two hundred footsteps over flat ground she stopped, raised her head, and lifted her eyelids to see the glass front doors of the school. No, no, no!

Staring back at her was a demonic reflection with lanceolate, fraying ears and a wicked expression. Goosebumps overtook Sunset's skin, her throat caught her breath, her stomach became a bottomless pit, and in that moment she believed she understood true terror. Panicking was her instinct, and she ran faster than ever before away from the view. However, her quick reaction turned out counter-productive, as the forceful speed of her fleeing somehow crashed her right into the terrifying door distressing her.

Dashing through the school's hallway was not better. Eyes stared from every direction. They shunned, rolled, and narrowed. Purple irises resembling Octavia's or Trixie's surrounded her. The so-called magician's fleering snicker filled the corridors; getting louder and louder until it seemed to become a pounding rhythm.

Please stop this! Sunset dropped to her knees and covered her ears; though it did nothing to muffle the noises. Tears rolled down her cheeks, and lockers continually slamming started sounding. Everything seemed said and done, and Sunset was certain her mind finally snapped. They're probably carting me off to some institute while I bawl my eyes out. Just having that thought embarrassed her, but she was ready to deal with anything that wasn't this.

Some new noise distinguished itself in all the madness. What now? she lamented.

Thud Thud Thud!

"Sunset I will bust in there if you don't come to this door!"

"What?" Jolting to an upright position Sunset realized she was hunched over her desk crying, shaking, and hyperventilating. She noticed that goosebumps truly adorned her arms, and hair on the back of her neck stood on end. While standing up she knocked her chair down and tripped over it. This sequence was by no means quiet, and she was not the only one to know that fact.

"I heard that! Sunset, if you aren't here in three seconds I'm breaking this door, and I am not going to be happy when I get in there!" Rainbow's voice was sharp, and she seemed like the kind of person who wouldn't make empty threats regardless of the consequences. "One ...," she began counting, and Sunset decided fast to oblige.

"Quiet down! I'm coming!" Collecting herself was somewhat challenging. Throwing her jacket over the goosebumps was easy enough, but the tear stains and general state of duress weren't going away in just a few seconds. No matter, she would just have to do her best to remain composed.

Standing and opening the door revealed five, fancily dressed, girls with irate faces staring at her. All the eyes made her uncomfortable and apprehensive after recent lachrymal experiences, so she was not first to speak. "Do you have any idea what time it is?" Rainbow jabbed her index finger at the, still dressed from yesterday, girl's face. "Are you trying to make us late? Is that what you're stooping to; trying to inconvenience us in any small way possible?"

Groggy still, snide Sunset let an uncontrolled remark pass between her teeth. "I hadn't considered it, actually, but it looks like I missed my chance." This was not the correct communication choice for deescalating the situation, and Rainbow seemed like she was going to throw a punch at hearing it. "Wait, that's not what I should have sai-"

"You're damned right that's not what you should have said!" With grit teeth Rainbow lowered her hand and clenched it into a fist. Now Sunset recognized she needed to be more focused on her responses. "Fluttershy and Applejack have been standing here for almost two hours trying to get you out. What have you even been doing?"

Choosing an immediate forthright reply seemed appropriate to Sunset at this. "Sleeping," she stated flatly.

"Excuse me! After walking around town in near zero visibility, coming home at noon, and staying in all day?" Rainbow tilted her head. "It's four in the evening! What did you even do while we took turns making sure you ... Wait a ..." Without warning she got right into Sunset's face to get a good look at her eyes. "Were you crying? Your pupils are kinda ... Are you on something, Sunset?"

Sclera became more apparent than pupils in Sunset's eyes, and she waved both hands in front of her. "Of course not, I swear!" Following the response to this allegation Applejack heaved a sigh and Rarity pinched the bridge of her nose. However, Fluttershy and Pinkie seemed oblivious as to what their friend had asked.

Rainbow was not convinced, and spewed sarcasm "Because what you swear is supposed to be trustworthy, right?" She issued tests beginning by wiggling two fingers in the air. "How many of these do you see?"

"Is this really necess-" Sunset tried to interject but was ignored.

"How many?" Grimacing, the interrogated girl answered.

"There are two." Rainbow gave an unexpected secondary test.

"Wrong! There are three," she continued to wiggle her index and middle finger; pushing them toward and pulling them from her subject. "Do you see them now?" Sunset knew what to say to pass this, and decided she was done with Rainbow's games.

"For fuck's sake, there, are, two fingers!" she paused between words, and almost yelled at the tedium of these antics. "Listen, I'm sorry I overslept, I seriously didn't mean to! Can we just stop playing twenty questions and go if you're so worried about being late?" Rainbow put her hand down and stepped back as Sunset walked out the door; locking it behind her with a key from her jacket pocket. She did not care about getting coffee, or about bathing. All she wanted in this moment was to be out of her room and surrounded by distractions.

Author's Note

Eve'n,

Well, here's this interesting scene. I only looked over it twice, but that's not too big a deal for me at the moment. There are some grammatical things I couldn't figure out or quite decide on the structuring of, but I figure if they're truly that apparent one of you will explain them with immeasurable eloquence.

After writing out the scene with the fog I realize how much it's about me working on this story; I may as well have no idea where I'm going with it! Each chapter is long comparing to other stories I've run into on this site, and people and events are being doled out idiosyncrasy by idiosyncrasy.

I suppose it's a side effect of being in novel mode. When I get burnt out staring at the bright screen of Open Office, or on deciding how I want scenes in my actual novel to go (even though this feels like it's becoming a novel also), I come here to unwind. Although it's choppy and unfocused I figure some of you might enjoy it. Maybe I'll scrap a lot of it one day and start over with a clearer plan, but for now here you are!

Adieu mes amis!

7 ~ Sunset's Distraction.

Music blared, bright lights of varied colors assaulted anyone's eyes, and people cheered and danced in a space which seemed just large enough to contain them. Notable to keen senses was an orchestra not just of sound, but one of scent as well; alcohol led this composition while different perfumes and colognes diffused among an underlying accompaniment of sweat. Sunset thought perhaps there was also a mustier, danker fragrance lurking about, but this detection was only attributable to her exposure to such aromas. When these intense stimuli harmonized, they synthesized a sensory-overloading symphony. Lights, loud noise, people surrounding her ... had Sunset wished for distraction, there was no shortage at this event her chaperones had whisked her to.

Without warning a distinct feeling of claustrophobia settled into her bones and she wanted nothing more than to escape the near crashed-together crowd. However, attempting to begin weaving through the recreators resulted in Rainbow catching her wrist; the athletic girl, who was trying to enjoy herself, refused to let Sunset escape her sights. "Where are you going?" she demanded.

Grunting and rolling her eyes before meeting the athlete's gaze, Sunset streperously screamed over the music, "This is a little much noise for me; I want to go more to the edge!" Rainbow bobbed up and down to the pervading melodies, but grimaced aloud and ceased when Sunset voiced her desire.

"I'll walk you over to Fluttershy," the athlete acquiesced. "But even if you see a chance to get away know that she'll alert me as soon as you try anything!" Moments after Sunset nodded her head to this, her escort brought and left her to the surveillance of a well-dressed, taciturn Fluttershy situated a ways from the crowd's outskirts.

Fewer people congregated so far from the crowd, and those that did sat on steps into urban residences or stood staring at phones while periodically looking up to the flashing lights. Right after arriving, the fiery-haired one plopped down onto a nearby step, making no conversation or contact with the tense-like-a-tree girl. After a time, Fluttershy relaxed, smiled, and stepped in front of her only company.

"You appreciate quieter evenings, too, is that right?" Sunset, who was pondering recent ... uncomfortable experiences, jerked back when her wandering focus was called to attention by the generally silent one; who could only be heard due to their distance from the mugient music's source. Given time to consider the question, Sunset hummed gratitude as she mulled over potential responses.

Finally, with measured conviction, she said, "I suppose I do." While standing she raised and waved a finger at nothing in particular. "I mean, with everything that happened, I can't seem to stay away from others for too much time." Abruptly she shrugged and shook her head. "I feel as though any move or interjection I make will only be met with judgement or ridicule." With a chuckle and a relaxation to her shoulders she added, "Probably sounds dumb or paranoid."

Hearing this, Fluttershy waved both hands in front of her, mimicked Sunset's head shake, and agreeably asseverated, "No, I totally understand! They don't exactly call me Fluttershy for nothing, you know?" Unwitting, Sunset nodded.

"Why do they, people I mean, call you that?"

"Well, my parents always called me Flutter, don't ask me why; the name must have stuck and it caught on with people in school." she explained with a finger to her chin. Then she brought her hands down and looked to the side. "The 'shy' part got thrown in after people started getting to know me, I guess."

Giving an, "Ah," Sunset prepared another question but soon thought of one more important to her. "Aren't you being a little ... open with me? Don't you, you know, resent me for what I've done? Wouldn't you rather be somewhere else -- talking to somebody else?" Fluttershy whipped her gaze from a nondescript location against cement sidewalks to Sunset's expecting eyes; the on-the-spot girl's mouth went agape for a moment, she was about to respond hastily, but closed soon after.

After about a minute, being given the same time to consider the quandary that she gave Sunset, she spoke up; apprehension subsumed her voice. "Yes," Sunset was prepared for the response. "You bullied me and lots of people!" In complete understanding, Sunset began nodding. "You were downright rude!" Although her nodding slowed, it did not stop. "And you demeaned others for personal gain. That's not even the tip of the iceberg either." Sunset played with her fingers, avoiding Fluttershy's face, and thought the listing was complete; she was right. However, that didn't mean Fluttershy was done. "But that's also not the important point to me."

Everything prior Sunset expected, but she was almost stunned when Fluttershy went on. "People have often told me that getting angry and ... " she began explaining what Sunset was unprepared for but paused for breath. " ... resenting is easy, but forgiveness to those who've wronged you is hard and everyone deserves the chance for it." The word 'forgiveness' rang in Sunset's ears. "How unkind would it be to deprive you of that just so I can take the easy way out?"

Stepping back to find her seat once more, Sunset deflated into it and pondered; she looked up to a light-polluted, cloudy evening sky and processed Fluttershy's words momentarily. With a single laugh she thought of the pink-haired girl's calm, pensive answer, her confident delivery therein, and quipped, "Looks like I'll start calling you 'Flutter.'" All she received in response was a grin.

Although the show being held outside meant the air was fresh, it also meant it was cold. Moving around, as by dancing, was one method to ensure warmth, but the pair of taciturn observers refused to employ that tactic. Even so, the still, brisk kiss of the coming winter was not unwelcome to either of them.

Sunset and Fluttershy enjoyed a few moments more of quiet commune, the former beginning to feel the need to do something for warmth, when two individuals stepped from the crowd and began staring at Sunset. One of them was a boy in a very casual green coat and slacks, and the other was a girl, perhaps his consort, wearing a teal skirt and matching coat. Both of them stared with abhorrence across their plain, pale faces.

When Sunset noticed them she found her heart starting to race, as their eyes reminded her of recent dreams. Instinct compelled her to stand and tense up; she was overtaken by the pervasive desire to escape their glare but could not find the words to explain her trepidation to Fluttershy. Finally, the sneering couple approached and Sunset found her feet tapping due to suddenly wracked nerves.

"I swear, that's her." the boy muttered. "Her hair's hard to forget." With a narrow glare, much like Octavia's, his partner pulled out a yellow-cased phone and snapped a picture. This act, producing an audible clicking noise, jarred Fluttershy's attention from the flashing lights ahead.

Her fright of speaking to those she was unfamiliar with invaded and she stuttered out, "Uhm," which was the first thing that came to her mind. "What are you doing?" she addressed both of them, who kept a fair distance, but the boy said nothing while the girl tapped furiously on her device.

"Just ... confirming." the boy answered after a time. Hearing, and seeing, his animosity, Sunset moved close to Fluttershy, repeated closing and opening her fists, and swallowed.

"Somehow I doubt they share your perspective on second chances," she whispered. "And something tells me I might have to run." Fluttershy nodded at this, looked at the texting girl, and decided fast to retrieve her own phone to inform her own friends of the situation. Sure enough, about two minutes later, three more girls popped out of the crowd shouting, "There she is! Get her!"

Upon their arrival Sunset sprinted; she did not take time to examine their appearances out of fear. All that urged her forward was a fight-or-flight reaction, and due to it she didn't even care how Fluttershy, Rainbow, or any of the others would respond to this escape.

The angry girls pursued her down an alley away from the crowd. There were few avenues for escape in terms of line of sight, but there were plenty of trash cans, littered garbage bits, and fragments of clay or metal with which she could obstruct the path behind her. While deploying these obstacles caused half the girls to stumble or otherwise halt, two of them managed to continue chasing. However, they were far from Sunset and losing ground.

Alas, just as the fiery-haired one found herself with plenty of breathing room, a choice presented itself. She could either continue straight, toward a main road where cars could be infrequently seen, or she could veer left down another more narrow alley. The only pro of going left was that a tall, locked off chain-link fence barred the way; she decided to climb the fence regardless of its height.

During the climb her ankle flared in soreness, but Sunset ignored the bruise's pain. The ability to move mostly efficacious and swift allowed her to scale the obstacle without suffering anything more bothersome than stinging sensations, and she decided to hide behind the first thing in sight when she made it to the other side and examined the path ahead. Regarding this case, that meant a dumpster situated to her left; a little farther down the alley's wall was a door which likely led into a residence or establishment that owned said garbage receptacle. Choosing to halt and listen soon rewarded, as the two pursuers stopping to catch their breath momentarily graced Sunset's hidden ears.

"Whatever," one of the girls grimaced. "We'll have plenty of time to catch her later." Anxiety held Sunset with these words, but it yielded to relief when her hunters' much slower footsteps faded back down the alley. Peaking around the dumpster's corner a few times verified for Sunset that the girls indeed left, and sudden thoughts of security washed over her. Without making noise, she exhaled and began walking away from the chain-link fence with a renewed sense of privacy; for the first time in too long she felt she could be alone.

Relaxation found its way into her steps through the urban corridor, but this freedom did not continue passed the first turn she came to. "There!" hailed Rainbow's persistent, vengeful voice from where the alley turned left to be parallel with the path Sunset just escaped. Part of the pursued girl wouldn't have minded just explaining the situation to her wardens and getting the night over with, but these girls made Sunset come to this show. It was their fault that she was recognized and antagonized on sight, and Sunset was angry enough at this to finally spite the parole. With grit teeth she spun to her right, away from Rainbow, and sprinted down a clear enough path.

Sunset's eyes rolled at the sound of continued pursuit and she kept sprinting until reaching a main road. Turning left onto its sidewalk revealed little save for a few benches, trees standing from concrete, and bins for garbage or recycling. Few cars passed on the parallel road to her right; most present vehicles were parked and unoccupied between the marked asphalt and the adjoined path Sunset ran upon.

Left of this sidewalk, on another note, were buildings with doors to various establishments. Some were inviting, like a glass-walled coffee shop Sunset paused -- just for a moment! -- to consider hiding in, but some had intercoms and obvious or ambiguous signs expressing desired privacy. Another gap between buildings, next to a green metal sign reading, 'Canathie Park,' borrowed Sunset's attention from the cafe, and when Rainbow's footsteps became uncomfortably loud she abandoned the notion of hiding. Escaping sight seemed like a good plan, but the coffee shop appeared only to have one exit. Meaning that if Rainbow did notice, Sunset would have nowhere to go.

Sorrowful for the jacket wearer, she would have made it to the alley into Canathie Park without Rainbow seeing her if she just refused stopping to ponder alternative exit plans. No matter, she figured, the narrow corridor she faced was clear for running; its concrete pathway was even decorated either side by weeds and mostly dead flowers which marked a desired change from urban scenery. However, most valuable to Sunset was its short distance into the park permitting plenty of time to consider the fastest route to seclusion.

Although moving down the alley granted her limited sight of Canathie's recreation grounds, it was enough to determine that the park's center was barren of anything but soil, withering flora, and neglected playground equipment. Finally Sunset felt like events would conform to her wishes, but her first reaction upon stepping out of the alley, where the concrete walkway narrowed and branched into a tree of possible roads throughout a hexagonal layout, was fight-or-flight surprise.

SMACK!

Adrenaline fired into Sunset's veins as she ran, attempting to round the alley's right-hand corner quickly as possible, head first into the forehead of another who she could not hear over the sound of her own sprinting steps. Pain smashed into the fiery-haired runner's right temple and she crashed onto the opposite side. Grunting and shaking her head from the stunning sensation, Sunset massaged the point of impact before pushing herself to her left elbow. From a less immobile position she could see an activated smart phone atop the nearby dirt; though she realized it couldn't be her's as its display read, "ARC - call ended". Not to mention her own device was well situated in her jacket pocket -- a fact which made itself known like kid's toys underneath bare feet. Once Sunset's senses were clear she snatched the phone and almost sprang to what was, to her before exiting the brick corridor, the alleyway's left-side corner so to obstruct Rainbow's line of sight. Without trying, Sunset deduced her running was unheard by the stranger due to the engagement of conversation and rotated her head to address ... herself.

Fewer than a few feet away was another Sunset raising herself from the park's thin, paved path. Both parties' features and proportions were near identical, their attire too, but there were clear differences. Sunset, who was now clutching an unfamiliar phone, bore nothing undamaged (her slippers, while only recently employed, had been bent, crushed, and scarred days after recovery); she also had rougher skin and bone structure compared to her other self. Whereas a well-maintained ensemble besmirched only by a slimmer leather jacket, dirtied due to their culpable collision's consequence, and fine black shin-high boots adorned her counterpart.

During the years she spent in this dimension, with intense perseverance, she tried to locate this world's original Sunset. Over two years she searched to no avail and finally presumed the dimension's resident Sunset acted too far to cause concern. However, on this day years after her arrival, when almost nothing else could get in her way, she crashed into the girl; it seemed like cruel humor to her. After Sunset pondered probability she concluded that the logical explanation lay within continued dreaming, but her other self remained the sole inconsistency.

Illness and uncertainty sank their teeth into the standing Sunset's neck as she stared again at her own face, but it was dissimilar to previous nausea brought about by looking into a reflection. Instead of piquant discomfort, the feeling seemed softer, slower in its onset, and not overwhelming. Although part of her felt like running and dropping the device right there, another idea became clear when her aqua eyes met those of her boot-clad other self's.

While the boot-less one retained diligence and clarity, on another note, absolute confusion ingurgitated her counterpart. No words came to the dimension's original Sunset, what occurred before her was hardly processed, and when a mirror version of herself started talking she barely listened regardless of it being the first word spoken during the encounter.

"Listen, I know this is incredibly strange for you," the fleeing Sunset guessed. "But I do not have time." Inhaling momentarily, tossing the phone back toward its owner, and pointing passed her double she plead, "Just tell the people chasing me that I went that way ... " During a pause she considered adding, "They can probably tell the difference," but decided against such divulgence. Without another word nor acknowledgement she turned and sprinted away from the indicated direction. Of course, the fleeing Sunset's strategy proved more difficult than expected when, after rounding a corner leading away from Canathie, she ended up staring at a dead end.

Four large brick walls boxed her in and only two avenues of escape from the enclosure seemed possible. One being from whence she came and the other being a gray metal door on the far wall. This dead-end entrance led into the only wall not devoid of decoration; a flat, square brick portico supported by two 15 foot tall pillars, on either corner disconnected from the wall, extended from above the gray obstacle. Situated atop this portico were various dying plants or flowers, and higher still was a window which whoever resided in the building presumably used to water the flora during dry spells.

Before stepping in front of the door she asked herself whether she dare attempt entry. Had her spite ran so deep as to disturb others who likely did not deserve it? Deliberation incomplete, curiosity urged her to turn the latch and discover the door's locked status. So much for that, she cogitated, walked from under the portico, and jumped in her skin after hearing an abrupt, echoing cry. From not far beyond the wall, right of the locked door, Rainbow reprimanded the dimension's original Sunset. Although louder bits of the unpredictable encounter could be heard by the fleeing girl, the wholeness of the conversation was lost to her.

However, her boot-clad counterpart could observe Rainbow Dash halting in front of her with a shout and irate features too well for pleasantry. "Now," the athlete's call gripped sitting Sunset's attention from frantic thoughts. "I'll say it again ... Where exactly do you-"

"Hold your horses, Dash!" Applejack interrupted after jogging to join the pair. "I don't think that's our Sunset. I mean, look at the shoes." 'Our Sunset' ran through the stunned girl's mind a few times and Rainbow held her temples while shaking her head at this recognition.

"Gah," the athlete scoffed before kneeling near Sunset. "I know this is going to sound strange, and you're going to have many questions we're happy to answer." She paused to clear her throat. "But have you seen someone who looks just like you run through here recently?" With two slow blinks Sunset snatched her phone and stood; she was unsure what she was supposed to do, or even think, about the situation. While Rainbow interrogated Sunset, who pondered possibility, her actual target was realizing a superior stratagem.

Stationed on the portico, the boot-less Sunset noted, were planting pots surrounded by flowerbeds. There was nowhere else to hide in the enclosure, save behind the pillars, so Sunset resolved to ascend. Huffing, she walked a proper distance from the pillars, sprinted toward one, and yelped due to her ankle upon attempting a wall run. Although she succeeded in performing this maneuver she failed to keep quiet, as the unexpected twinge of pain in her foot could generally be ignored.

Rainbow heard the dissipating cry as an echo and, with a step toward its source and a roll of her eyes, raised her brows saying, "Who could that be, I wonder?" Boots thudding and choice made, Sunset pursued Rainbow, caught the athlete's arm, and snapped an index finger 90 degrees counter-clockwise from where her counterpart suggested. Since the fleeing Sunset's position was compromised it made little sense to point directly away.

"That way," her voice and comprehension of the strange experience at last found her. "We ran into each other ... literally, and she went through the park," she lied. Perhaps it was a strange type of bias, but she felt that answering her questions from the source would more likely yield earnest results. However, this Sunset had almost zero experience with duplicity nor its intricacies, so when Rainbow wheeled around to make eye contact with the equivocator her heart skipped a beat and her jaw clenched. Could Rainbow ascertain that she was lying based on expression alone?

Applejack joined her friend in looking to what they did not know was their target's location, placed a hand on Dash's shoulder, and looked into the lying Sunset's face. "Alright," she assured, "I can see this whole ordeal has you a little shaken, but there's nothing to worry about." That's one way of putting it, Sunset mused and decided her astonished reaction served to raise doubt about any falsifications. Rainbow then gently pulled her arm free from the frozen Sunset's clutch before Applejack, who dreamed of a peaceful evening on her family's farm after this debacle finished, gestured with a waving hand to herself and the athlete. "We'll be back here soon as we can to answer whatever questions you have, and if you can't wait too long then go to Sugar Cube Corner on Enterprise Street. Someone there named Pinkie can put you in touch with us: Applejack and Rainbow Dash. Got it?"

Recovering still from perplexity, all Sunset mustered in response was a nod accompanied by a hum. However, when the two pursuers proceeded toward the indicated path, capability returned and she steeled herself in preparation for the next interaction. Jogging to where her perceived counterpart disappeared to, around the same brick corner, revealed nothing but an empty dead end.

There was nowhere to hide; a lone metal door stood, with a tall brick portico above it, between the bricks of a central wall and no other escape was visible. With a deep breath, the searching Sunset peaked behind the portico's supporting pillars to find air. If the person she swore to have collided with wasn't behind the pillars, she figured the last option was to go through the door. Normally Sunset would refuse to barge into an unfamiliar building, but in these puzzling circumstances she broke her ethic code and tried turning the latch. Of course, it was locked which meant one of two things: either Sunset hallucinated the incident or it actually occurred and the perpetrator simply went through and locked the door behind her.

" ... the hell ... " she muttered, sat against a wall adjacent to the door, and held her face in her hands. Maybe she was just sleep deprived. After all, she had been up almost all night preparing to arrive in the Canterlot precinct, but she could not shake the idea that her mental acuity was not responsible. "Ugh ... " she groaned frustration and threw her head back which allowed her to admire the close-together bricks of the plant-bearing portico above; had she been a little taller, and stronger, she might have been able to jump and touch the masonry. Wait a minute ...

Beckoned by a new idea, Sunset launched to her feet and stomped out from under the portico. Examining its small gardening surface, after moments of painstaking observation pacing around the three accessible sides, yielded the faintest movement: a diaphragm expanding ever so slightly. "Aha!" she proclaimed, "I can see you! You aren't going to stay up there forever, right?"

" ... " There was no answer.

Through grit teeth she clicked her tongue. How could this person refuse to acknowledge her after she did a favor for them? Such rudeness could only be addressed by ensuring the other party knew she lacked hostile intent but at the same time explaining that, should she wish to, she could do something. "Do I need to stay here until those girls get back so I can tell them where you are, or are you going to come down?" With narrowed eyes Sunset watched a near replica of herself rise from a prone position behind the pots and flowerbeds. This confirmed one of two things: either her eyes worked just fine or she was in a dream world.

"How did you even get up there?" she pondered aloud -- only to hear her own voice reply with words that weren't her own.

Sunset, who walked to the portico's edge to sit, looked to her somewhat scratched hands and then passed her counterpart before declaring, "Most humans take their fingers and feet, their ability to maneuver so well in three dimensions, for granted." Prior to hopping off the portico, with clear intent to move on, she inquired, "I see you didn't sell me out -- let me guess, they were in too much of a hurry to tell you what's going on?" When her boot-clad version heard the question she tilted her head.

"More or less, yes, but the way you say it ... Should I have sold you out?"

Puzzlement crossed the questioned, slipper-sporting Sunset's face for a second until she abruptly chuckled out, "Honestly, you probably should have, but none can blame the ignorant for not knowing about some things." She took a few steps to her counterpart and glanced at the fine, polished boots in envy.

"Some things such as?" the boots' owner demanded. "Exactly who are you, what are you doing here, and why do you look like me?" Sunset watched the dimensional interloper step back at the interrogatory onslaught and gave a slight frown with two raised hands in apology.

"All good questions but I'll make a long story short, and regardless of whether or not you believe me, I'm only saying this once, okay?" Assuring this dimension's original Sunset nodded first, the interloper delivered, "I came to this universe from a very different one; I thought I knew everything I needed to know and that others would only benefit from my ... choices. Well, as fate would have it, I was wrong. In the end all I accomplished was hurting others -- myself and you included. I slandered your name, and if you want to enjoy your life without harassment ... then get as far away from me as you can. Only the guilty deserve such treatment. Forget you ever saw me."

What? Such a bomb was challenging for the boot wearer to wrap her head around, for a figurative ton of questions arose from the flash point; questions which dazed her attention. Slippers' flopping resounded a few times before she noticed that her counterpart was walking away, as though there was nothing more to say. Instinct conquered her body and she moved to seize Sunset's wrist. "Wait!" she cried. Of course, after doing this, she expected some form of resistance, but the wrist's owner just stopped and turned to listen with patient, empty eyes.

Once a few seconds of silence passed, the halted girl looked to her captured wrist, to its captor, and raised a brow. "Yes?" she attempted to incite whatever other question this girl had so she could leave soon, and was happy to find success.

"My whole life I've been flitting from thing to thing, idea to idea, hobby to hobby, and not once have I found anything that really called me -- anything to alleviate this feeling that something's wrong." Eye contact unfaltering, and boot clacking at a step forward, Sunset continued, "I fear I will be buried with a headstone reading, 'she did a lot, but enjoyed little.'"

"It could be worse. Someone could not even bother to bury you." Sunset interjected but cleared her throat and went silent when her counterpart gave her a low frown and narrow eyes.

"Are you telling me that now, after all this time I've lived without finding anything that truly caught my interest, I should just let it go? Forget about it?" Well, when you put it like that ... Interloping Sunset considered what she'd just heard; she could easily understand where her counterpart was coming from. However, seeing that she had little desire for another person around to scorn her, she decided not to promulgate anything that would leave a trail.

Thus she yanked her arm free, jabbed an index finger toward the ground, and affirmed, "I am giving you time to make a choice, but I advise that you, if you want a happy life, let it go. Really, I'm sorry for everything -- everything I did to everyone! You don't have to give up what I did just to grasp for straws though. I promise there's something out there for you, but I also promise that all you'll find here ... is more displeasure and disinterest." Thence, with that said, the dimensional interloper ran off without a care for whether or not her other self was satisfied with their discussion.

Author's Note

Bonsoir! Bonsoir mes amis!

This is pretty solid, took me a bit but here she is lads and lasses (or is it lassies? I don't remember)! Now I know, I know, I can see some of the major mistakes in here, as I can see them in previous chapters, but I feel as though some of these lines are too neat to keep to myself any longer. Thenceforth, here you are! Enjoy if you do!

P.S.: I notice there are some words (mugient, streperous, etc.) that don't appear in the FIMfiction dictionary or via a quick google search. That being said, they exist in every physical dictionary I own and I am therefore going to use them. Have a good'un!

8 ~ Tributes to the Queen

Sunset Shimmer held a smart phone overhead while dour breath passed through her lips. From her bed she could only see by the device's light and she internally begged time to halt so she could remain lying down without being made to confront those she'd wronged. Alas, ignorant of her wishes, her phone's clock changed from 6:29 to 6:30 A.M., and she was required to arrive at school before 8:00 if she desired Celestia's placation -- which she, in this instance, did.

After half an hour of going through a standard morning routine to maintain the physical vessel and enjoy a bitter drink of coffee, Sunset retrieved a black-strapped auburn backpack, tossed the last bits of a peanut butter sandwich she couldn't finish into a wastebasket, and pushed her room door open while throwing the somewhat small bag over a shoulder. What a surprise, she thought with a roll of her eyes upon seeing Rainbow Dash, also entirely prepared for a school day, sitting cross-legged on the floor before her. "Have a good night?" the athlete threw at Sunset before springing to her feet with a deep, one-sided frown and narrow eyes. "What exactly did you go to do last night?" she demanded, as though Sunset had actually orchestrated the previous evening's events in a ploy to achieve some vile retribution.

Rainbow stepped forward, preparing to clutch Sunset's shoulders and interrogate her farther, but Sunset finally had enough of these antics. Conscripting little effort, she stepped backward to offset her stance compared to Dash and used her closer arm to backhand the athlete's attempted grapple away; she saw Rainbow widen her eyes in response, as though this display was unacceptable and unforeseen, and step forward. However, frustration channeled, Sunset raised her voice to halt the surprised girl's advance.

Although Rainbow initially scoffed at this unbiddable demonstration, Sunset approached, glaring hostility, and growled the volcano that was her internal ire into eruption -- asserting, "Enough! Look here, highlight maniac, I have tried to be patient and cooperative with this!" After gritting her teeth, Dash mirrored Sunset's diagonal stance and leaned her head back; clarifying via body language that she would listen before continuing questioning.

"I have tried to demonstrate and- ... " Sunset paused for a second in a vain attempt to remain calm. "And explain to you that I understand: I lost! Not only was I beaten in the sense that I failed, but I failed in the worst possible way ... I was forced to recognize that I was wrong to begin with -- that all of you were not only right but benefiting the world by defeating me!" She saw Rainbow glance away, breaking eye contact for but a moment, and shook fiery hair before grumbling, "If I were you: I wouldn't trust me either!" Rainbow flinched when Sunset, emphasizing threatening implication, jabbed a finger centimeters from her eye. "But, right now, I see no reason to antagonize you or anyone else. Do you want that to change? Because if you do -- by all means! -- keep pushing me, and you'll get the enemy you want." After this unleashing, Rainbow found herself unsure of what words to use. In the end she chose none and simply returned a stern gaze as Sunset locked, and pulled, her room door closed. Without anymore exchange of speech, and bag secured to her back, the fiery-haired threat maker bashed her shoulder into the athlete's before taking leave.

When Sunset's phone struck 7:43, she crested the familiar hill to Canterlot High and felt her feet adhere to asphalt below. Fewer than ten minutes away, surrounding the building, were people of all different sorts. Had there not been so many, Sunset would've tried circling around the building to retain some semblance of stealth, but in the absence of such fortune she deigned to stalk toward the school not unlike any of the other congregating students. Some of them wore hoodies or jackets, others sweaters or coats, but all held one commonality; when Sunset reached the school's main concrete path, which she had personally repaved, each of them shot the girl hostile, appalled scowls.

Initially, Sunset attempted to keep her head high and forward; she tried to ignore each pair of prying pupils but, as the stares lingered, she began feeling a tangible nervousness. Everyone's eyes almost appeared to harbor intent -- for what she could not conceive. Though, out of caution, she began scanning around her as she approached the school's glass entrance. Perhaps it was slight paranoia ... at least she hoped that to be the case. However, while each passing fleer dug into her thoughts, people began pointing and whispering.

Sunset found herself taking deep breaths continually and gripping her backpack's straps a little too tight. Before she reached the school's entrance, which she was far more relieved to see than she expected, she was not only searching around her but above, as she considered the possibility of someone throwing something over other students' heads. Fortune apparently favored her brazenness but she couldn't trust fate nor calm her nerves, so upon walking through the main door into a branching corridor and seeing a girl with hair like a lion's mane, who she subconsciously recognized as Gilda, marching toward her ... she panicked.

Her heart imitated a mosso tempo, other students had eyes on her almost before she had closed the glass entry, and she moved without two thoughts toward the only door which led to a place she felt safe: Celestia's office. After barging into the room, she found herself flat and stiff against a mahogany door with white knuckles clutching her bag for dear life. During just that moment she closed her eyes and released her backpack, but she failed to employ this calmness before her fingernails drew blood from her own palms.

"Mm ... ," hummed the dignified Principal Celestia, who needed only one glance to identify the not-really relaxed girl, with a dry intonation. "Sunset, I do believe this is the first time you've stepped into my office of your own volition without threatening someone or issuing immediate demands. To what do I owe this pleasant surprise?" Observing the room veiled nothing from Sunset. There were a few filing cabinets, drawers, and papers directly in front of her, and a coffee-lacquered, rectangular oak desk separated Sunset's position from Celestia's workspace. Situated on the same side of this desk as Sunset sat Trixie and Octavia; the latter was busy scribbling something onto a page in a purple binder splaying across the principal's desk.

"Look at her! She's stiff as a stone -- I'll bet she's scared!" the so-called magician began laughing -- Sunset was getting tired of that laugh -- but Celestia didn't take this comment as comedy.

Not before raising both brows, the principal looked up from a flat red folder and asked, "Is there something you're afraid of that I should know about, Sunset?" Alright, things will be fine, the questioned one mused, shook her head, and answered the first query posed instead of the second.

"You told me to be here before eight. Here I am. Do you need something, or shall I leave?" Sunset wasn't halfway through her sentences when Octavia dropped a blue, mechanical pencil and brought her left hand's fingers to pinch the bridge of her nose. Celestia dropped her head while maintaining her gaze to Sunset, removed a few papers from the aforementioned folder, and blinked slower than a tortoise with still-raised brows.

"Actually, I said to be in the library, where paper copies of attendance are before they come to me, before eight. I thought getting here early might make the first day easier for you and your ... friends, but it seems someone mentioned that idea to the rest of the students." Trixie, lacking a single shred of shame across her features, flashed both Sunset and the principal a wry smile. "Oh well," Celestia continued, "seeing that you are here, looking for a task no less, it seems only fitting that you hang these up on the bulletin boards in front of this office, the cafeteria, the auditorium, and the gym."

Tilting her head and reaching for a stack of four papers that the principal was offering, Sunset identified individual copies of the petition Octavia so politely requested her signature for and frowned. "Sure ... ," she drew out the word to indicate sarcasm. "Are you positive you don't want me to add something? I dunno, say, a clause where 'stoning Sunset' is not only accepted but encouraged?"

"It would not be the first time such a thing happened," Councilor Octavia chimed in. "Especially to someone like you ... whose humility is like a racer who has never seen a track; it knows no starting line and has never won anything."

"Harumph," came Sunset's attempting-to-mimic-Octavia's-old-fashioned-demeanor retort with a scoff.

Celestia tossed her left elbow onto her desk to rest her chin on its corresponding fist, grimaced, and dreamed aloud, "One day, Sunset, you and I are going to sit down, have a normal conversation, and neither of us are going to want to see the other expelled from their life."

"That'll be the day," Sunset quipped before glaring at Trixie and turning on her heel. Much to her delight, it turned out that Gilda had vacated the locale and being focused on a basic task allowed the dimensional interloper to ignore each snide remark or pointed finger from her peers. Things were looking for the better. Even her mates in class were less ... aggressive than she expected; when she entered the designated square classroom for science, her teacher, Mrs. Myer, was the only confrontationist. Once Sunset entered the class she was flagged down.

Mrs. Myer called, upon seeing Sunset attempting to walk passed the class's front row, "Sunset, half of me is of a mind to reassign your seat. How about right here?" Frowning at the teacher's suggestion toward the most forward and centered seat in class, Sunset pretended to consider the idea, sashayed to Myer's desk, and placed both hands on the surface between them before giving a remark.

"Honestly, that's a good idea. If I scoot forward, then maybe, just maybe, one of the spitballs will hit you!" Mrs. Myer narrowed her eyes in a poignant display of boredom toward the response. Apparently that was all Sunset needed, though, as the teacher said nothing when she walked as far away from the room's front as possible. However, not every subject's instructor was so easily swayed.

Cheerilee -- Sunset's English teacher -- had none of the girl's hiding, for when she saw Sunset retreating to the class's rear she explained, seemingly without looking, "Sunset Shimmer, your seat is three rows forward. Don't be difficult or I'll assign detention. I'm sure you'd enjoy sitting with everyone else who has a record of delinquency." Alas, this was a serious threat, and Sunset could find no cutting comment that didn't seem too pushy. Well, she learned upon the class's start and reaching behind her head to find a wet wad of paper, at least now I know what spitballs feel like. Each class felt as though small contingents were waiting for a moment to ambush her, but no such assault came ... until lunch, anyway.

Keeping to her forte of discretion, Sunset refused to enter the crowded cafeteria. Instead she ducked into what would have been her last subject of the day: Mr. Powers's Calculus class. Of course, she couldn't miss a rather focused stare from Gilda before she entered. None inhabited the room save for the teacher himself -- who Sunset so courteously addressed as, "Nential-san" for his Japanese cultural indulgence. Mr. Powers was by no means an ordinary teacher, and when Sunset infringed upon his space he tossed an apple her way which she caught without thinking.

"You're supposed to be in the cafeteria," he laid out. "Go." Sunset threw her backpack and a small, brown paper bag onto one of the room's numerous desks in blatant disobedience; this act failed to elicit glee from the mathematician. "Do you have any idea how tempted I am to make a scene here and call security?" he prodded Sunset with the threat, but she refused to budge.

"Come on," she plead. "Leniency?" Nential Powers tapped his chin with an index finger a few times at this.

"Celestia certainly thinks the staff should give it to you, but I'm not so sure." Sunset karate chopped the surface of the desk, which occupied her things, with either hand and tilted her head to silently inquire what she needed to do to clarify this expressed uncertainty. Momentarily the teacher continued to tap his chin, but he soon raised a finger to the ceiling and presented his criteria. "What is the difference between tensile strength and shearing force? Answer that correctly, mostly anyway, and I'll forgo that call to security."

What! Sunset pointed at Nential's face and stated, "That's not even a math-based question ... 'mostly'!"

Mr. Powers only shrugged. "It's also the question I've asked you to answer rightly before I kick you out. You have three minutes by the way." Ugh, Sunset internally fumed. Tensile strength and shearing force weren't exactly hard for her to differentiate, but she hoped that Nential-san would at least try to trip her up with a question related to his class.

"Tensile strength is an object, such as a rope or wire's, ability to resist a force which is pulling it apart in a parallel manner. Shearing force has to do with a pulling force perpendicular, or otherwise intersecting, to such an object." Sunset's delivery was concise and slightly depressed, as though she was trying to egg Mr. Powers on. However, her teacher ventured a very particular route.

"Alright," he began while standing and collecting a few items. "You can stay, but here's another one for you: why did I ask you that instead of something more appropriate to my class?" In lieu of an answer, Sunset, as she was still working to solve that exact problem, only hummed and watched her teacher saunter through the sole door which led into his class. Nothing that man said outside of textbook quotes or course material ever seemed to make sense, so Sunset chose to ignore this most recent riddle and began unraveling the paper bag she used to contain her day's lunch; this she began to consume in a kind of peace she had not expected to receive. However, she had not taken two bites into her newly-attained apple before Mr. Powers's classroom door opened again. Where she expected Gilda, or another with something to assert, and raised the apple in prepared defense, she was pleasantly relieved by a gentle face and dangling pink locks.

Fluttershy inched her head into the room, peaking around the door which opened in toward the room's center, and smiled to the apple-wielding defender; then she turned her head to address unseen individuals with a quick, "Here she is! I told you she'd be somewhere ... outside of public view." From behind the class door stepped Rarity and Rainbow Dash with their own plain backpacks; the latter of them walked in slow and held a gaze toward Nential-san's single window across the room rather than into the hiding girl's curious aqua eyes.

Sunset sighed and shot like a javelin, "Do you three need something from me, or are you just continuing to keep tracking my movements?" Rarity more or less gave an apologetic head tilt, but Rainbow saw no reason to sugar coat any of their instructions.

"It was the request of our principal and student council, after all -- not to mention that of a magical pony turned human! What would you do?" Logic received, Sunset delivered an indifferent shrug.

"Please, then," she invited the trio with a wave to the rest of the class's seats, but she wondered why only they appeared. "Where are farm girl and party planner?" she voiced.

Fluttershy offered a quiet, "They're in the auditorium doing something for the eventual winter dance." to which Sunset acknowledged with an offhanded hum. Though, once this point was clarified, she tried to ignore them by focusing on a small Tupperware container of garlic-basil mashed potatoes; this distraction proved fruitless, however, as Rainbow's desire for Sunset to answer questions seemed to comprehend no limitations.

Giving the trying-to-eat girl little in the way of personal space, the athlete retrieved an unrestricted chair from an unoccupied desk, sat directly in front of Sunset, and interrogated, "Exactly what did you say to her?" This question was not only reasonable but expected; despite this, Sunset couldn't resist concocting sweet justice. Alas, she would hold her tongue momentarily, as Rarity interrupted -- thus attempting to mollify her friend's rather blunt approach.

"Dash!" she called with a light nudge at the interrogator's shoulder. "At least try to be a little tactful." Rarity's idea of 'tactful' interested Sunset, so she raised an expectant brow to whom she knew as a purple-haired fashion designer. Not only did this curiosity appeal to Sunset, for Rarity's eyes suddenly shifted to three different prying, waiting peoples' and she took a seat before equipping her words. "How's the first day been? I know how ... eager some of us are to reprimand you." Ah, was Sunset's first thought. Had you started there, and I had no idea where you were trying to go, I probably would've answered you without resistance, so bravo ... but ...

Laughing out, "Haha, oh my," Sunset answered this question rather than Rainbow's with a dismissive, "Nothing too bad ... just a few spitballs and some -- okay, a lot of -- attention." Dash, resting her chin on a fist, bookmarked her previous question and raised another.

"What's the matter -- not the kind of attention a tyrant usually goes for, eh?" The athlete's eyes were met by a cold glare and a shaking head instead of words. Rainbow rolled her eyes to this silent answer and leaned close -- always the interrogator -- with a convicted declaration. "Don't expect royal treatment from me either," she stated before flicking the surface of Sunset's mashed potatoes to ensure she had the girl's attention. "What did you say to her?" Sunset, gritting her teeth to avoid grinning, knew precisely who the athlete referred, but she refused to pass up this opportunity.

Instead of divulging her account of the prior night's events, she tilted her head and wondered aloud, "Who?" Dash clicked her tongue while ignoring the glance from Rarity which was intended to warn her from pursuing this clear bait.

"Don't play dumb, I know you ran into ... " she pretended to weigh two objects in her hands, sitting mouth ajar, and searched for a word. " ... yourself." After faking a concerned expression, and placing a hand over her heart, Sunset tilted her head and inhaled.

"What? Rainbow ... are you sure you're remembering right? Are you sure you didn't have too much fun at the concert." In response, the athlete prepared an interjection with a reddening, tensing face but was stopped before she began, as Sunset hopped out of her seat and threw two fingers forward. "How many?" she asked to immediately receive a desired growl from Dash.

"Ha. Ha ... Very funny, Sunset, you got-"

"How many?" Sunset pressed. Rainbow narrowed her eyes, Rarity pinched the bridge of her nose, and the three of them were ready to hear the athlete's next word choice. However, a crashing clatter captured everyone's attention; Gilda kicked through Mr. Powers's door with a grit grin across her features. Traditional shinobi pants covered the girl's legs in contrast to a more modern, cotton flannel. Gilda was somewhat taller than any of the girls who originally occupied the room, and Fluttershy's eyes became more white than anything else at the sight.

She gasped before spewing, "You!"; this immediately caught Rainbow's attention who averted her narrow eyes to the intruder. Upon recognizing Gilda, Dash stood as though Sunset no longer existed and stepped between the door and Fluttershy to block greater advancement. Three girls followed Gilda but only one looked toward the four conversing individuals; this observing person was recognizable to both Sunset and Fluttershy as the girl who furiously broadcasted the bacon-haired one's location to the previous night's pursuers. Gilda's other two lackeys immediately turned, blocking the door, to look into the halls beyond where Rainbow could see many students awaiting entry.

"Shy," Rainbow started with a glance to both her surprised friends. "How do you know Gilda? Has someone besides Sunset been bullying you who you've neglected to mention?"

Flutter shook her head and, in an immediate decision to clarify any misunderstanding, explained, "No! That's just one of the girls who chased Sunset yesterday!" Meanwhile, Sunset refused to concentrate with her eyes on anything besides the movements of Gilda. After all, Gilda was originally the president of a traditional martial arts club which was disbanded when Sunset found the space useful for ... meetings with other students, so it was no wonder when the wannabe warrior gave Rainbow a wry smile and placed a hand on her shoulder in clear preparation to push her aside.

Obviously demonstrating to the athlete that she was to be ignored, Gilda allowed her smile to stretch as she looked passed Dash to the stiff, standing-tall Sunset, and apprised, "As much as I would love to have another chat with you, dewdrop, I'm here on ... " Sunset's aqua eyes locked, impaling her steely gaze into Gilda's own pupils, before widening and narrowing in conjunction with a deep breath. " ... other business."

"Sunset Shimmer! Been a while, has it not?" Gilda shouted thus inciting a number of voices outside the class to join with their own incoherent ululations of malice; this told Sunset that Gilda wasn't here just to hold her own, personal discussion with the fiery-haired girl who, with tensions rising, began looking for an opportunity to bolt for the window. Rainbow was about to create that chance, much to Sunset's surprise, by asserting her position between the two of them, but the addressed one needed first to gauge Gilda's intentions.

"Gilda ... looks like your club room is free again." the dimensional interloper forayed -- seeking a distraction.

The taller girl had not denoted demure deviousness through gold irises at this before mentioning, "Oh, you can keep it. I have a much less limiting space now."

Dash saw that she could spite Gilda, who was admittedly an enemy with more resources and freedom than Sunset, by guarding the multidimensional addressee, so she decreed, "Well, whatever chat you want, you're just going to have to wait, for the moment Sunset is mine to torment." Alas, this order fell on deaf ears as Gilda bellowed laughter, turned toward the class's entrance, and rephrased Rainbow's declaration.

"Hear that, Everyone! According to Rainbow Dash, she is the only one who gets to have a word with Sunset! Do we consent to that, though!" This moment, while Gilda's attention was on the door and gesturing for her allies to open the way, Sunset sprinted to the apparently-sliding-glass window which was her only escape route in lieu of a wrecking ball. Students poured into the room, Gilda cackled when she saw Sunset's attempted fleeing, and Rainbow Dash and company were shoved aside like thin, protruding branches blocking a wilderness trail; any pleas or objections from them to this chaotic display were drowned by the angry cries of those cramming into the room.

Misfortune and anxiety found a home in Sunset's mind when she reached the window, saw that it was unlocked, and pushed with all her might to discover ... it refused to budge; on the exterior side of the window frame, connected to a chain which joined it to a rather large-looking weight resting on grass, a thick, threaded-metal hook was drilled inside. Defeated, Sunset turned to a mass of people who were only separated from a small, four-foot-diameter semicircle of breathing space by Gilda and her goons.

Beyond the four of them were too many students spewing vitriol for the enclosed girl to keep track of, but she wasn't about to just quietly be accosted. "Did you have a lucky guess, or did you seal off every class window like this?"

"I at least waited before I saw you walk in here before I actually attached the chains, if that's any consolation."

" ... " Sunset frowned before quipping, "Vandalism suits you, Gilda."

"Hohoho," the wannabe warrior passed a guttural laugh through wickedness-radiating lips. "Birds of a feather ... they say ... " was her facile retort, and Sunset closed her eyes in stoic apprehension when Gilda commanded, "Grab her!" Without farther repartee, Gilda seized Sunset's left bicep, let the only ally to her that Sunset recognized take the other arm, and began dragging the captured girl through a sea of hysteria. Moments later, when she was being carted through the cafeteria and saw no teachers or staff of any sort, Sunset finally respected that this was no improvised venting of anger. Rather it was a well-considered, premeditated attack which likely garnered support throughout the week school was closed.

Five or six times, while the crammed parade relocated toward the school's only sports' field (outside where the sun shined yet it was almost freezing), Gilda laughed as a few of the eager students' reaches ended up smacking or otherwise poking Sunset's face. Before she knew it, Sunset really was surrounded by a who-cared-to-count-how-large army which she could not see through. However, visible above the mob was an enlarging football goalpost which turned out to be their ultimate destination, for Gilda alone pressed Sunset's arm behind her back and stopped five feet from the metal structure.

"Clearly they're listening to you," Sunset began and craned her neck over her left shoulder to see some of her captor's face. "That means there's still time for you to call this off ... I'll forget about this and call truce if you do, Gilda." Accidentally letting out an intended-for-suppression chuckle, the wannabe warrior pretended to consider this demand.

... she underwent a few moments of silence before answering, "You're right. They are listening to me, and I wonder if you know why." Sunset offered no more threats or demands before Gilda redirected her to face another student, placed a foot between the assailed girl's shoulder blades, and kicked her toward them. "MAWWWWWWWSH! the taller girl cried like a priest with incredible righteous indignation.

The student -- a boy -- caught Sunset while screaming in support of Gilda's suggestion like many others; Sunset's face flinched involuntarily as the boy's beef-smelling breath projected, and she yelped when he elbowed her to his left. From within a ten-foot circle centered around the metal football goalpost, Sunset was passed from student to student. Some knee'd or kicked her like Gilda, others tackled her, -- though these were all easily healed injuries -- but the extent of the populace's discontentment was revealed when an unfamiliar teeth-barring boy turned her around and slugged her square on the nose.

"Son of a ... " she cursed while barely maintaining her footing and prepared for the attack of another approaching student who was about to perform a tackle, but someone else yanked her out of the trajectory. Alas, this person was no savior. Although the interceptor pulled Sunset by her wrist, into an almost gentle embrace, her word choice upon pushing away from the -- definitely female -- chest was not one of gratitude.

"Ugh, gross," she spat blood which had dripped into her mouth from her nose onto Trixie Lulamoon's cheek.

Trixie wasn't even phased. Instead, she wiped the blood off with her hand, smeared the still-wet substance on Sunset's mirroring cheek, and fleered out, "Red is a good color for you ... let me help." With this, Trixie gripped both of the bleeding girl's shoulders and smashed the top of her hat-devoid, pale-blue-haired head into the already injured nose; once the blow connected she released Sunset, stepped forward, and kicked the assaulted one's wind right out of her. "Under Trixie's foot!" the so-called magician ensured was audible.

After a few more similar ... conversations, Sunset heaved over her hands and knees trying to calculate how much time passed since the beginning of lunch; she concluded no more than ten minutes. Finally, when Sunset could hardly stand, Gilda stepped forward -- bidding the mob to settle down -- with both hands raised and waited for the crowd to be quiet before yanking Sunset to her feet by a bundle of streaking hair. "Now, I know we all have a voice, -- something to say to our old ... ruler here -- but I beg you to hold your tongues for just a moment!" Gilda began an address prior to pulling Sunset to the goalpost and nodding to one of her allies who, in response, walked forward with a black bag no larger than a few human fists; from it she revealed, and offered to Gilda, a foot-or-so long, quarter-inch steel wire and a pair of yellow pliers. The crowd's speaker took the items without hesitation ... continuing her public speech with, "Those who stopped Sunset from really having power have let her off the hook in the name of friendship, and we should absolutely honor that request!"

Contrary to her words, Gilda forced Sunset's wrists behind her back compared to the goalpost and began using the pliers to bend her retrieved wire. Thus she fastened an impromptu set of handcuffs; the only caveat being that these cuffs, which had their conjoining sections being twisted like ties sealing bags of bread, could not simply be removed by a key's turn. "But first," the wannabe warrior went on once Sunset was unequivocally bound. "Let's take a few moments to honor recent events, shall we?" Collecting herself and hearing the crowd cheer in answer, the constrained girl wondered if anything that Gilda said at this point would sound good to the students. Of course, the dimensional interloper believed that anything related to chastising her was certain to ...

"First, she came here and spied on us -- stole our secrets and privacy! -- but she didn't stop there!" Sunset's head, in silent response, hung low in a shame that she knew was deserved. However, Gilda refused to let her hide from these past transgressions; the public speaker seized Sunset's hair again and pulled back so aqua eyes were forced to view nothing or face those slighted. "Since she got here her greed for power has demonstrated no end; she even stole our very minds!" Boos from the mob resounded and Gilda repeated, for greater inspiration, "Our very minds!"

Suddenly, when Gilda scooped up a handful of cold -- but not frozen -- dirt, Sunset's irises and pupils retracted into puddles of white. "She wanted to rule us that bad -- she did for years too! -- but now our queen has no crown; it was stolen from her!" Gilda raised the handful of soil over her head and added, "Shouldn't we give her majesty a new crown? Shouldn't we pay our respects!"

Boos became cheers, students prepared their own offerings of dirt, and Sunset called Gilda's attention with conviction. "You don't wanna do this, Gilda, you can still call this off!"

"Whatever you're gonna do," the public speaker responded and stepped close to Sunset, dirt still held high, with a wicked smile. "I'm hoping you try to make it your worst." Gilda then returned her gaze to the crowd for one last message, but Sunset had more to say; she arched her back, pressing her spine against the goalpost, pushed her arms forward despite clear pain, and bucked her hips and knees up to perform a stationary dropkick against the back of Gilda's head. This act, which floored Gilda for but a moment before she could recover, turned out sweeter than any fruit Sunset ever tasted ... even though it caused one of the wound-up students to loose a compacted dirt ball right at her chin. Apparently, it wasn't just dirt either, for a three-inch, disk-like stone caused a crackling pain when it contacted Sunset's jaw. "Arrrrrgh," Gilda grimaced and stomped at Sunset, holding a new soil clump, with both arms extended either side of her; she seemed to want to be the instigator of this public humiliation. "That. Was. Really. Stupid," she growled mugient hostility into Sunset's face, pausing between each word to enunciate powerful intention.

"Trust me," the injured, bound girl started, having never lost a seething desire to ensure, with her own powerful intention, that Gilda knew she was not making friends today. "Not as stupid as what you're doing ... You're gonna have to kill me before I stop hunting down every way to make your life a living hell."

Gilda smiled, glanced over her shoulder without moving her head, and whispered, "I might not have to," before stepping -- backward this time -- a safe distance from Sunset and turning to make one final statement; she pumped the dirt into the air along with her fist and screamed at the top of her lungs, "Long live the queen!" That said, she crashed the soil over Sunset's head and stepped away so to allow others easy access.

Students followed suit one after the other. Some spoke, others spat, and some just quietly added to a growing pile of muck and leaves with contempt subsuming their mouths. Not long after Gilda's incitement, Trixie approached with a handful of mud. "This should be good," Sunset sighed before having the wet dirt happily smeared over her face by the so-called magician. Then, with a profuse smile, Trixie cleared some of the muck away until a shit-stain colored mustache and goatee were obvious. Last, she used her index finger to spell the word, 'Queen.' across Sunset's forehead; Trixie stepped back to admire her work and seemed unable to contain her signature, irritating cackle, and, in that same vein of incapacity to disobey indulgence, she revealed a pink-cased smart phone and snapped a picture.

Throughout another half hour, each crowd participant brought Sunset their ... taxes, laughed, and took all kinds of photos until finally leaving a half-buried Sunset whose feet, from a forced sitting position, stuck out from the base of what appeared to be a thigh-high hill. Seeing all said and done, and being completely alone, Sunset abandoned her stern, stoic expression in place of unrepressed anxiety, shaking breaths, and fear; her face paled and tears trickled from either eye before she noticed an approaching figure from the school. However, this person didn't exit the building from the same door that Gilda's mob had disappeared into. Rather they came from around the school's front.

Stoicism mustered once more, Sunset used her shoulder to wipe her tears, looked up with newfound spirit, and saw Octavia, with a raised brow and a tilted head, standing overhead as though she'd crossed the distance a little too fast. No matter, by this point Sunset was prepared for anything; though it would have been a lie if she told herself that whatever Octavia had in mind didn't scare her more than what anyone else had done.

"Come to say your piece?" the dirt-and-mud covered girl sighed when she met Octavia's unreadable, purple eyes. Without speech, the councilor squatted before Sunset. A grey, long-sleeved tunic-like buttoned top connected into a trailing skirt which swayed in a strangely intimidating fashion as she descended into the closer position, covering her black leggings from the knee up. Councilor Octavia then leaned her face toward Sunset until their eyes were only inches apart. Immobile, Sunset became increasingly fidgety under the stare. In fact, her heart began beating in her ears and fear could not be contained, for she knew nothing about what Octavia's twisted, self-serving mind was capable of.

Abruptly, Octavia broke from the staring contest and glanced up for a moment before inhaling; the words she next spoke served to confuse Sunset yet still inspired anxiety for some reason. "I shall not stone you, if that is your meaning. Do you take me for some anarchistic barbarian?" Grabbing her right sleeve with her left hand, Octavia brought the fabric so she could grip it in such fashion to protect her wrist. When she swiftly brought that wrist to Sunset's face, the admittedly-terrified one flinched and closed her eyes, so she couldn't see when the councilor shook her head. "I am no savage ... " she started whilst wiping Sunset's forehead so that Trixie's handiwork became illegible. " ... and you are no monarch," Councilor Octavia then declared preceding a quick reach into a pocket; thus letting her reveal Gilda's yellow pliers.

"How did you-" Sunset tried to ask with narrow eyes but wasn't given the opportunity to finish.

"People consumed by vengeance are generally too distracted to consider what could annihilate their plans ... but that should come as no surprise for you." Sunset, who tried very hard to maintain eye contact despite her flushing face, bid to change the subject.

"Why are you helping me?" Octavia, motionless from her squat, held the pliers between the pair's faces and dropped them in Sunset's dirt-covered lap.

"I am not. I thought that, by now, you would have recognized: I only serve my own wishes."

Rolling her eyes, Sunset rephrased, "Call it a Freudian slip. What I meant was: how does bringing me these benefit your 'wishes'?" The councilor tilted her head back and forth, along with her gaze, a few times as if in deep pensiveness.

"Suffice it to say," she stated after a moment, "Celestia is preoccupied and has no desire to manage this mess, so here I am." Octavia brought an elbow to her horizontal knee so she could rest her chin against a palm before wondering, with an almost mocking intonation (though Sunset had so rarely seen Octavia use such vocal devices that she believed it must have been imagined mockery), "You do realize I can tell Celestia who is responsible for this and have them punished ... Would you like me to do that?"

Feeling a little goaded, Sunset shook her head vehemently, announcing a little too loud, "No, that won't accomplish anything ... I'll have to manage somehow."

"Good answer, it makes me think you found the starting line." the purple-eyed stoic said with finality, stood, looked at the muddy-faced girl once more, and turned to walk off; at this, Sunset tilted her head, wondering, Will I ever understand that girl? When the councilor took two steps away, as if the interaction had never occurred, Sunset raised a brow.

Developing a sense of urgency, the bound one called, "Wait, so ... you really aren't helping?" There was no delay in reply.

"Like I said: I have no reason to, or did I stutter? I surely hope I did not fail to enunciate my position." the councilor fired these words like precise needles -- there was no room for misinterpretation -- without so much as glancing back. "Though I suppose Celestia might want me to tell you that she won't be upset if you leave early." Octavia was gone, along with her indecipherable, ever-imposing aura, almost as fast as she'd arrived; she left Sunset to her own mind and a pair of liberating pliers she couldn't use.

However, once Octavia was well away, Sunset spotted the trio she was originally talking to approaching. "Oh dear ... " Rarity muttered as they got near enough for Sunset to hear. Fluttershy, on the other hand, said nothing and put a hand over her mouth before she began digging. Rainbow Dash, though, with an eye twitch, retrieved Gilda's pliers and huffed.

"Gilda's sense of humor has only gotten crueler, I see. What I would give to see that ... to see her get her get what she deserves." During the excavation, Sunset decided to omit that it was actually Octavia who left the pliers there. Instead, she voiced her first curiosity.

"Gilda's goons hold you back?"

Fluttershy started the answer with, "Apparently they had the staff distracted and thought we might try to tell on them."

" ... she was right." Rarity, helping to unearth her supposed-to-be friend, added with a huff.

Once Sunset was standing and Rainbow untwisted the makeshift binding, the still-dirtied one laughed. Lighthearted and joking, Sunset asked the athlete, "Does this mean we're all buddy-buddy best friends now? Are we gonna play soccer and talk for hours about how much we hate everything Gilda embodies?" Dash half grinned at this and relieved Sunset by presenting a warped, messy steel wire.

"I dunno about that ... not even friends. It's more like a ... 'the enemy of my enemy' type of arrangement."

Well, in the absence of being at each others' throats all the time, Sunset could live with such a relationship, and she clarified as much. "Ah, still, progress in one direction is progress," she began before adding with a hint of sarcasm, "Wouldn't Twilight be so proud of you? Letting bygones be bygones and all." This comment failed to elicit the athlete's laughter, so Sunset, gladly flexing her red-lined, bruised wrists, moved on. "You have a grudge against Gilda, I have a grudge against Gilda. Really, it's just the natural order of things."

Dash raised her brows at this and inquired, "So ... the natural order of things is that one of the people you hate most becomes semi not awful, or at least incapable of practicing how awful they are, and you team up with them to take another person you both really hate down a peg or ten?"

Slack jawed for but a moment, Sunset raised a finger and offered, "That's ... not really what I meant ... no, but common motivations aren't unwelcome."

"I wouldn't really call it a grudge either," Rainbow returned while Sunset lowered her hands into lightly-clamped fists. "It's more like a difference of opinion so deep that ... Well, let's just say I wouldn't mind seeing her go ... gone." Upon hearing this, Sunset mulled over plans for the near future (none of which failed to involve Gilda or Trixie in one way or the other), and hummed for a few seconds.

Concluding some train of thought, she reiterated, "Celestia probably won't mind if we slip away early today," and suggested, "We could go discuss ideas to make Gilda go ... 'gone' if you want." Rarity and Fluttershy, who were mostly quiet during this conversation as they thought it might make the pair less hostile toward one another, both displayed aversion to this idea; the former shook her head while the latter looked away and fiddled with her hair. However, the athlete, upon considering the possibility, didn't take much time to agree.

"Well," she stated, "I would rather do that than go to English; seeing how not fun words are ... " and turned to her friends to ask, " ... you two wanna join?"

Fluttershy answered before Dash had barely finished her last syllable, "Actually, I want to sit through English. Since, to me, words are pretty fun ... and sometimes silly." Rainbow quietly scoffed in refusal to acknowledge this statement and shot Rarity an expecting gaze.

The fashion designer huffed and gave Dash a scalene frown but exchanged it for a wide-eyed head tilt away from Sunset before explaining, "I would rather wash my hands of this and finish the school day, but I'll catch you at Sugar Cube Corner after?"

'O' was the form the athlete's lips took as she recognized Rarity's idea, but she quickly pressed her expression into a line before glancing back at Sunset. "Fine by me, but first ... " Dash waved her hands at her suddenly-scowling friend, trying to use gestures to explain that what she requested wasn't too cumbersome a task, but it was in vain as the only thing Rarity would allow to reassure her were words. "Would you bring us our bags? I mean, if Sunset's is even still there."

"Hmm," the fashionista hummed. "Are you sure you're not just trying to stay out of school for as long as possible?"

Much like Sunset did prior, Rainbow put a hand over her heart, faked a hurt face at this, and said, "Wha- Rarity I am surprised at you! Don't you see I'm just thinking about our newest friend, here? Imagine how you'd feel about walking back in school after something like this." Rarity curled a hand into a fist and placed it on her hip with an ever-so-quiet growl; she didn't exactly buy Dash's words.

"That confirms it -- whatever -- I'll be right back." she tossed out before turning on her heel and walking toward the school.

Seeing no reason to stick around either, Fluttershy left the pair with a frown and apologized, "I'm sorry you had to go through that, Sunset, but maybe now that it's out of peoples' systems ... they'll leave you alone a little more?" Her words sounded less like reassurance and more like she was trying to convince herself of an optimistic perspective.

Regardless, Sunset needed no such apology, so she affirmed to Flutter, "It wasn't like you did this, but thanks anyway." That said, and Fluttershy having left, the muddied girl wiped a hand over her upper lip and stared into Trixie's work, as though the annoying Lulamoon would appear and simply burst into flames with enough concentration. "So," she addressed the athlete again in hopes to cast the so-called magician out of her mind. "What's step one for dealing with Gilda?" Dash, who was staring into her precious sports' field's defilement of a hundred dugout holes, glared at the school.

"First, we compare notes."

Author's Note

Happy spring lads and lassies o' this Earth. I do hope it'll be a fine 'n for ye.

Also, happy belated Vernal Equinox (It's an important event to me so I shall capitalize it); it occurred at, I believe, 5:58 P.M. E.S.T. on March 20th. Immediately following, on the evening of the 21st, we got MORE SNOW up here, so talk about a warm spring greeting!

Anyway, here's this beefy chapter. For some odd reason I feel as though the sentences, the paragraphs, something about the 'flow,' if you will, is off, or at least it seemed like it when I was writing. Some of the double hyphens killed me as I asked, "Do I just use parenthetical commas, or is this really easier to read?" and they still kinda do. However, I think it's just fine, guys! I mean, probably. Okay, well, I can't think of much more to say about this except: I know how modern people spell the word, 'mosh,' as in a, 'mosh pit,' but I wraaaastled with spelling, "MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOSH," and all I could hear in my brain was some Canadian screaming, 'MOOSE,' while trying to guzzle maple-sumac wine or something. Ultimately I wrote it that way to appease the sound in my head.

Enjoy if you do!

P.S.: I thought about another thing to say ... If I flip between the metric and imperial systems of measurement it's because: people that govern my land haven't acknowledged the superiority of a measurement system based on dividing or multiplying tens to a very specific unit which was formulated by (some fucking calculation I really don't understand right now in life) measuring the circumference of our damn planet. In short, it's not just because I think, "fuck continuity," it's more the case that many wouldn't be able to translate, "quarter-inch thick wire," into, ".635 cm ... ," because they lack any frame of reference to such a qualification. Well, I also don't think they (people who use this extremely useful system) make such tools ... they just buy quarter-inch tools from Americans so they can work on American-imported junk -- I mean treasures!

Don't get me wrong, I get why America still uses the customary system. Screw the oppression and crap from ye British kings. It's the same reason we pronounce, "herb," without the h and the British don't: we wanna spite those dead dudes (and we've done a fine job), but I think that leaving off whole letters of the language they taught is enough. I mean, for real! And I understand that those British oppressors were even the first ones to impose the customary system before opting for the logically better choice, but how long do we have to ignore logic just to spite them by saying, "Here's that system you imposed and found to suck; we still use it muthafuckas!"?

P.P.S.: Everything in the above post script is based off my own theorizing and is in no way fact checked or supported, to my awareness, by tangible evidence. You may thenceforth, for all intents and purposes, regard it as a rant.

Happy reading (or writing, as the case may be)!

9 ~ Choosing a Rabbit Hole

Boots on -- after using her fingers as shoehorns -- and clean-brushed, fiery hair neatly flowing well passed her shoulders, human-born Sunset Shimmer kicked a laminate floor with her toes to ensure her feet were fully inside her favorite footwear before staring at an opaque oak door; its frame, hinges, handle, and lock all portrayed the signature aesthetics of handmade crafts one way or another.

"Arc! I'm going now!" she cut through an otherwise dead-quiet, Saxon-style house of three stories; some of the structures (wallpapers, mirrors, or electric amenities for instance) were imported over years from more modern outlets, but almost everything in the building had been cut, nailed, sanded, forged, or otherwise turned by the labor of one who preferred a simple, self-sufficient lifestyle.

From around a hand-planed oak column which served as a support for wall plaster replied a tired, low voice, "Oi! Do wha' you got'a, Shim, but take one of 'e tarps out to me choppin' blocks an' cover 'em limbs will ye; it's s'pposed to rain la'er an' I'm sure not worried abou' fuel for tonight ... an' don't forge' an umbrella!" Aerick -- an ancient family friend -- sounded offhanded, probably because he was busy carving something, but his consideration was not unappreciated. Of course, Sunset already had everything she felt she might need for the day -- including an umbrella -- packed away in an immaculately-stitched, oil-canvas day ruck.

"Aye!" she acknowledged before twisting the front door's brass knob and breathing in brisk, fresh air. Farmlands surrounded the seemingly-wattle-and-daub house for how many square decameters Sunset could not recall; almost all crops had been harvested save recently planted winter barley which could be seen as the fiery-haired girl walked to a straw-thatched workshop.

Preceding entering this building, she stalked behind it to its Northwest side where a thermometer hung from the wall; mercury within a glass tube leveled with a plastic chart's measurement of ten degrees centigrade. Such temperatures were to be expected with the approaching cold season, but the cooling was still happening gradually.

No matter, she figured. Eventually it'll frost and snow, but it shouldn't get too far below zero here. At least for a while. Stretching her arms up, she turned away from the thermometer to face the general direction of the Canterlot Precinct before returning to the workshop's entrance.

Inside the structure were various materials and tools: vice grips, saws, pliers, nails, and anything one might construct any number of things with hung from walls or sat on a two-and-a-half-meter-long workbench, but none of these items were Sunset's goal. Right, facing inside from the front, door-less entrance, was a stall with dozens of cubbies for fabrics, leathers, and tarps of all kinds. Upon grabbing a gray tarp from the highest right-hand cubby -- because the ones higher up were designated to be the largest -- Sunset spun around, intending to stride out of the building, but ended up considering something.

Rested against the wall opposite where the tarps were, in its own stall, was her own, painted-to-match-her-hair motorcycle; using it to travel would certainly get her to Canterlot faster, but schools in the district wouldn't be out for hours anyway. Thence, she ignored the vehicle in favor of -- and not minding -- walking for a few hours.

Being out in early morning meant chilly temperatures, but moving in decent clothing meant comfort. Withering flora and desperate, scrambling fauna offered a barren view of nature as its inhabitants prepared for hibernation. Alas, trekking through glamorous hardwood forests after covering seasoned logs provided little assurance; Sunset still could not fathom recent events. First, she was ripped from her prior community and lifestyle in a bright, populated city -- brought to this puzzling place of pensive quiet -- and had way more responsibility thrust upon her than she was used to. Then, as the motions of her days displayed the ever-monotonous colors of repetition, one thing which differed from normalcy caused whole dimensions of possibility to insurrect her mind.

Hence, she felt no peculiarity in the fact that she experienced nervousness as she walked on a dirt path which became asphalt and led into a more suburban environment. 'Canterlot' appeared in white letters on a green sign and -- a mile passed it -- Sunset came to a beautiful vista. From where she hailed, withering forests and dying grasses were separated of thin sand blankets by the road. Continuing on in the distance were sparse residences; some of these had the fortune of being situated on the sand as beach houses, and -- for some reason -- Sunset could not resist walking out toward a shining lake which these sands descended into.

What beauty, she thought -- staring onto glistening waters. Here, things have been smashed apart -- via stellar explosions or heavy bombardment -- and coalesced again into a sight so pretty as this lake reaching into the horizon. Nothing seemed anything but gorgeous save for a small, fist-sized wad of mud, twigs, and leaves. How did this get here? It's too far from shore to have been washed up ...

Clear skies, despite the beach's stain, allured Sunset to gazing over noble, shifting blues for almost an hour before she startled herself into the reminder of her mission: find answers. Two hours passed and almost nobody stalked the roads; few sat outside their homes from morning to afternoon -- perhaps it was too cold for them -- and younger people didn't begin walking the streets until about 3:40 P.M. Sunset rounded an unfamiliar corner and looked left; there, not five minutes away, was a pink sign reading, 'Sugar Cube Corner."

Nervousness did strike her but she mustered courage nonetheless and approached ... which resulted in being a poor decision in terms of keeping her clothes clean. Someone -- with an admittedly accurate arm -- chucked a mud clump from 15 meters away ... square on her right temple. "Don't forget your crown, bitch!" they shouted.

Flicking the projectile off her, Sunset decided, I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that ... and entered Sugar Cube Corner; eyes were on her instantly and, by the time Sunset reached a pink-haired cashier, she was tired of the attention, so she cleared her throat and glared at anyone passing sneers. Almost everyone who stared ceased, but not before flashing the asymmetric expression of contempt. Of course, Sunset was startled when her, "Excuse-" was cut off.

"Did you need something else? I thought I asked you not to unlock the back door ... please re-lock it." the cashier stated as if they'd had previous discourse. No reasonable response came to Sunset -- as the pink-haired girl glanced to a door behind the counter -- but she threw together an awkward response regardless.

After clearing her throat, she said, "Uh, no I don't need anything. Is Pinkie Pie, Applejack, or Rainbow Dash here?"

Sunset felt -- by the clerk's expression -- that she was being judged as crazy when response came. "Are you okay? Come to think of it ... your nose looks a lot better. Whatever, Rainbow's still around back as far as I know."

"Right ... thanks."

With that strange interaction out of the way, Sunset walked through a door behind the clerk's counter. It would have been a lie for her to say that she wasn't tempted to purchase a sweet from the shop, as that was apparently their specialty, but she had a mission to focus on. Sweets could wait. Stepping through the door revealed, at first, a dark corridor, and walking down it slowly allowed Sunset to recognize two familiar voices in the midst of deep conversation. Some degree of apprehension still accosted her, so she moved slow and silent toward the sounds' source.

First, a voice which Sunset could not produce naturally said, " ... so, then, you fought Gilda over her club room, won, and that's the main reason she hates you?"

Then, in a very surreal experience, Sunset heard her own voice speaking words she was not thinking -- replying, "About sums things up. I mean, I did also have her relegate herself to staying out of my way ... no matter what, so I could imagine -- watching me torment her friends and peers and all -- her probably holding some resentment over that." At this, there was a quick, soft sigh of agreement before Sunset-but-not-Sunset's voice asked, "Since I gave you my whole story -- more or less -- what about you?"

"Well ... we were ... " Suddenly Sunset felt like she was getting into eavesdropping territory, so she walked (loud) through the dark corridor until a light to her left led her into a lit room with a few things; the space wasn't particularly large, counters and cupboards sat atop the floor or jutted from pink-and-white painted walls, a coffee maker and other amenities rested upon various surfaces, but Sunset's goal sat in a metal, folding chair around a circular table of oak veneer.

There, leaning against that metallic chair, was a version of herself in relatively clean, yet damaged attire with bruises and bandages across parts of her face -- specifically her nose. Adjacent to either Sunset was Rainbow Dash who glanced between the two of them before awkwardly sinking into her own seat.

Whilst the human-born Sunset blinked to ensure her eyes were not deceiving her, her counterpart's aqua eyes only made contact for a moment preceding turning away; the dimensional interloper was not only not expecting the encounter but felt her stomach drop as a direct result of seeing what appeared her own face. For a time neither party spoke. Instead, the sitting Sunset played with her hair until Dash scratched thick ice.

"Ahem," she started by clearing her throat and standing. "I think you two should talk first, then we'll all chat." Rainbow looked to the Sunset she was familiar with -- who did not meet the athlete's gaze. "Or are you gonna run? I know how good you are at that."

Sunset -- in response -- crossed one leg over another, stared at a wall with a defiant, childish expression, puffed one cheek out, and muttered, "The thought's gone through my mind ... "

"Argh," Dash grimaced and looked to the standing Sunset who still had yet to proactively compose a sentence. "Say what you need to say, Shimmer -- I'm calling you Shimmer since it's easier for me to think of her as Sunset, that okay? -- I'll go around back and, hopefully, if she runs I'll stop her."

Shimmer, pondering what to say to Sunset, gave a dismissive, "Yeah, that's fine, I'm used to it," as the athlete passed her and walked down the very corridor she entered from. Sunset still refused to make eye contact but that didn't matter; Shimmer stepped up to the table, loudly pulled a chair, and sat with some shred of confidence before remarking, "You look like you got hit by a bus ... "

This elicited a soft chuckle -- a good start -- and a facile, "Part of me wishes I had been." Happy to have started some degree of accord, Shimmer placed her ruck on a well-tiled floor, then her hands (clasped) on the table, but this defiant decision from her company to not actually look at her made things seem like she was being ignored.

Hence, after clearing her throat, she asked, "You find it polite to not look at people talking to you?"

Using one motion, Sunset rolled her eyes and head toward Shimmer's position across the table; alas, upon acknowledging her counterpart, something in Sunset's stomach churned and she swallowed back something unpleasant -- not unnoticed by Shimmer -- before laying out, "So you found me -- I gather Rainbow had something to do with it ... What do you want? Why are you here?"

The respondent, taken mildly aback by this blunt approach, collected herself before declaring, "Uh, what I want is for you to answer my questions." Sunset gave a quiet growl ... "Why are you here? You said you came from another ... universe? How? What was it like? Why leave? And you said you slandered my name ... " Shimmer pointed to her temple where a small bit of mud remained. "I kind of figure what you mean by that -- considering you're sitting here like you just crawled away from a fight -- but still: how? That's just what I've got, you know, off the top of my head; I'm sure there are more where those came from."

Bringing fingers to the bridge of her nose -- avoiding pinching to minimize pain -- Sunset used these questions as a guise for her to appear pensive by lowering her eyes to the surface between them. "Well, I guess you deserve at least that much." You guess? "I'll try to recount things briefly, ahem." Shimmer widened her eyes in an expression of impatience, rested her elbow on the table to then rest her chin on a fist, and found herself again annoyed at Sunset's deliberate avoidance of her eyes.

"I was born into a dimension where magic is practically prevalent as water is here -- believe it or not -- to a rather dull livelihood." the storyteller began with a turn to the room's back door ... not alleviating Shimmer's irritation. "Slowly, very slowly, I honed my skills and ended up top student to ... my government's monarch; I was the best for a time, and it felt good to be more skilled and knowledgeable than any other student but-" For a moment Sunset had to pause to figure out how to word things.

Urging the story onward, Shimmer hummed a long, "Mmhmmm?"

"Geez, I ... " Sunset rotated her wrist a few times as if physically trying to transform her memories into language. " ... wanted to learn more advanced forms of magic. Going through the basics got very boring and, by every test performed, I had mastered them. 'Course, Cele- my monarch thought I was too engrossed in my studies and ambitions." Momentarily, Sunset considered adding, "Turns out she was right." but Shimmer interrupting incited her to skip ahead.

"Was, 'your monarch,' right?"

Standing and scuffing her heel against the floor, Sunset ignored this question and continued, "My monarch -- names aren't important -- decided I needed to cease studying and ... connect with other students." Muttered though it was, Shimmer heard the end of this sentence, gave a sarcastic hum, and tapped her foot continually. Oh, the humanity ... "Hey!" Sunset defended, "This was a very demeaning and- and hypocritical thing for her to do to me!" She began quickly pacing back and forth (it was somewhat intimidating, like she was going to lash out at any moment) while smacking one fist into her opposite palm -- anger visible throughout her comportment despite a lack of eye contact.

"Never had other students provided anything useful for me; it's not like I had fun around them or enjoyed their company! I-I mean, half the time I spent with other students ... they- they were just looking for easy ... answers to get better grades! They never t-tried to be my friend, so why should I have tried to be theirs?" Shimmer was not expecting this loss of temperament -- justifications, yes, seething annoyance, no -- for Sunset seemed composed despite not wanting to partake in this conversation right up until this point.

Putting her foot down and ceasing her pacing, Sunset cracked her knuckles and ceded, "Maybe- just maybe she was trying to help me- I could accept that! But it was still ridiculously ... Gah! ... hypocritical! she didn't even have friends; hell, she banished her own sister to our moon for ten thousand years!"

"Ack!" Shimmer coughed at this number. Ten thousand years ... ?

"I got so fed up with her and -- to answer how I got here -- I broke into forbidden-to-me chambers in her castle and crossed into this dimension via a magic mirror which only opens once every 30 nights for three days." Any previous annoyance Shimmer had was gone, for Sunset not only seemed to be answering but doing so in earnest. "When I first got here, suddenly standing on two legs instead of four ... " Wait, what? "I just fell over a few times, figured out how to stand, and started running." Conscripting an abrupt change in mood which startled Shimmer, Sunset returned to her seat, deflated into it, and held her face in either hand -- bashing her elbows onto the table.

She buzzed through connected palms, "How did I slander your name? Actually, I had it summed up pretty swell for me today." Shimmer blinked continually at this for a few moments -- not really sure how to act -- before humming not just to urge her forward but to indicate she was listening. "These are words I'm loathe to restate, but: First, she- I came here and spied ... I -- as you might imagine -- learned some things in the castle I lived in. I needed to figure out what was normal here; how you people spoke, what was socially okay and not, and in that process I ... Damn, I hate to say it but Gilda said it best: I stole secrets and invaded privacy, I blackmailed others to gain influence and, somewhere along the road, things got so easy."

Taking a deep breath, Sunset karate chopped either of her hands onto the table and concentrated on a point of the surface in between them. "Suddenly I had power, authority -- which I never really had in my home -- and I just didn't let it go; I couldn't let the past go! Little more than a week ago, I went back through the mirror ... I was upset! For three years my teacher, my monarch, dare I say the only ... being I ever thought understood me, seemed to- to ignore me like I never showed up!"

"Practically without thinking, one day I went back through just to see what things were like. She didn't even post any guards around the thing; it was just a dusty mirror sitting in a dusty room as if she'd never even gone back in since the day I left!" What are you supposed to say about any of this, Shimmer? Come on, think! "Ugh, to make a long story short, that day I stole a very powerful artifact: the Element of Magic. You might note: it's called the Element of Magic, and that's for a good reason. I certainly wasn't more powerful than it; I had this illogical desire to control those around me by this point and it manifested when I equipped the Element. Ironically, it showed me everything I was working to embody despite part of me knowing it was a dark path and not wanting to be consumed."

Dead silence rang for a time. Shimmer hadn't constructed any reasonable or thoughtful interjections and Sunset was really taking time to consider how awful things had been ... for everyone involved! Regardless of her desire and attempts to avoid the consequences of her actions, she knew that those affected deserved as much, and Shimmer -- if she wanted to spend any time in Canterlot ever -- arguably deserved the most reparations.

"My humility is like a racer who's never seen a track." Sunset let slip. What? "Anyway, as Gilda put it: I stole the very minds of an entire school. Perhaps it was for but a brief time, but any duration for such a thing is too long and cruel. Fortunately, my monarch did send someone to stop me; they annihilated everything I had done in one fell swoop -- like it was nothing."

Of course, part of Sunset still did not accept that those years meant nothing, but she felt Shimmer had no need to hear that. "That's basically the whole story, and so for the recent week I have been undertaking my penance: living with those I hurt so much. All because the person who defeated me knew that I would never be able to let go of what I've done."

" ... "

What do I say? Shit, words, Shimmer, use them!

Sunset recollected her breath and finally met her counterpart's eyes. "Well, other questions?" she asked.

"Uh ... " Shimmer started -- being asked a question was always a good way to construct responses -- before letting out a soft hum. " ... mm, no ... I think that about ... covers it. I mean, it's a good place to start." Some piece of Shimmer wondered still whether or not this was all some fraud or ploy for sympathy -- it was certainly working -- but, if she was wrong, she didn't want to appear rude or insensitive. Not to mention, considering how people seem to be treating her, stealing my identity doesn't seem very productive. "Actually, come to think of it, what are you going to do to keep people from -- say -- throwing mud at me? It's not as if I'm responsible for what you did. You're going to help deal with this, right?"

Looking up and standing, Sunset mused aloud, "No ... you're not, but I'm sure I can spread the word that the Sunset who actually shows her face in public probably isn't me." With this, she stalked toward a gray, metal back door, unlocked it via a simple switch, and yanked it toward her. Rainbow Dash -- whose weight was entirely leaned against the door -- fell face first into the room followed by a stumbling-forward Rarity and Applejack. "Plus, something tells me they'll help."

Once she sprang to her feet -- with a stinging sensation in her nose -- the athlete stood and showed Sunset a half frown. "How'd you know?" she inquired.

"Lucky guess ... no Pinkie, no Flutter?" Sunset retorted while looking passed Dash to a shame-ridden Rarity and an embarrassed-to-be-caught Applejack.

Rarity answered, "Pinkie went right into the shop and Fluttershy ... "

" ... couldn't bring herself to eavesdrop?" Of course, Sunset felt a sense of justice getting this jab in at the girls, for they were doing precisely what she started which led to her fanaticism. "How kind ... "

Interjecting, the athlete scoffed and sarcastically stated, "When you say it like that, it sounds like spying is mean."

"Haha," Sunset demonstrated her capacity to deliver sarcasm as well and moved on -- quickly introducing everyone and allowing acknowledgements of these introductions time to occur -- with, "So, you probably just heard, but, we need to spread the word that Shimmer's in town and people need to not mistake her for me."

At the very last syllable of this declaration, Rainbow quipped, "Seems like the scars, torn jacket, and generally sour personality would be enough."

" ... you tryin' to start a fight, Dash?"

" ... not not tryin' to start a fight, Sunset."

These two, Shimmer wondered, Do they seriously want to hit each other, or is this just the way whatever mutual agreement between them works? Disregarding the strange relationship before her, she focused on the subject matter. "Exactly how do we 'spread the word,' though?" Ideas about having them appear in front of different clubs and classes to explain the situation were thrown around. Of course, this would take at least a few days of work.

Unfortunately, the best option for expediting the process made Sunset cringe when Rarity described, "Oh, the Student Council will have all kinds of plans for something like this. Still, it'll take some coordinating; how often can you come to the Canterlot Precinct, Shimmer?"

"Every two or three days ... We can exchange numbers." Sunset listened to these plans which required her participation be drawn out with a modicum of irritation; she was glad to help, but -- before her counterpart showed up -- all she really cared about was dealing with Gilda.

Thence, when she heard Rarity say, "Let's go talk to Fluttershy, then." Sunset refused.

"I'm going home," she proclaimed but Dash -- who was fully prepared to re-enter the shop -- narrowed her eyes at this.

Not before jabbing an index finger at the multidimensional girl, she ensured, "You didn't say you agree to showing up here every other day or so to meet with us ... say it!"

Rolling her eyes, Sunset replied, "I agree, happy?"

"I'll bust your damn door down if you try to worm out of it"

"Now I'm tempted."

Just a low growl was Dash's response to this before her, and her friends, began toward the corridor from whence Shimmer arrived. "Are you coming?" Applejack asked to receive a nod and raised finger -- indicating that Shimmer would be along shortly -- and the trio disappeared.

Half a minute of silence passed preceding Shimmer remarking, "Ironic, isn't it -- considering what you said before -- that now, of all times, you have friends? I mean, I'm surprised."

"You and me both, but I would use the term loosely."

"Ah."

Author's Note

Aight,

It's aight.

avons amuse! I think that's wrong, whatever.

10 ~ Thence Thy Stage Setteth Yonder

8:20 ... Sunset grimaced inside, groggily worked herself out of bed over 20 minutes, and near fell over as she dressed. Two hours ... sleep ... not enough ... can't function ... can't sleep ... Fatigued though she was, no force could have stifled her expressions of stark enmity directed toward the world. "AUGH!" she raged -- disregarding any courteous semblances for her neighbors -- and pulled her hair in stress. "GR- FRIGG'N SON OF A- THI- THIS SUCKS!"

Stomping and spending herself in this fury proved a foolhardy venture, for Sunset's exhausted form collapsed back into bed at the expenditure -- heaving, shaking, and paled. There she tossed and turned for another two hours but, try as she might, visions of her past evils besieged her in successful bouts belaying her rest. Hell, she could not even focus on her neighbors' pounding assertions for her to be quiet at her first outburst.

When she again did stand, she could not walk in a straight line nor could she focus thoughts; only flashes of her own monstrous indulgences pervaded her mind. Water was something she retrieved and gorged upon due to instinct's compulsion alone, but it did little to improve her fearful, discombobulated status for her room's walls seemed melting and vying to ensnare her in guilt.

Coffee was the first full word to formulate during her daze and she forced herself to proceed with motions accomplished thousands of times, although -- she discovered -- the process was time consuming and very, very arduous.

Fresh-brewed coffee provided a familiar and comfortable scent, yet it failed to mollify or relieve this asphyxiating sensation Sunset experienced. Thence, upon barely holding a hot mug, she took deep breaths and continually began thinking: Air. Air. Air. Air, until she threw her body weight through a carelessly tossed open door. Of course, with all the fast motion, a quarter of her coffee spilled over her hand and feet, but this -- even the splash of heat -- meant nothing to her; all that mattered was escape, so she swiftly placed the mug on the floor and turned to yank her door closed. Instant safety -- ten times what she felt before -- flowed through her being as she locked, barred, denied the entryway to her inner madness. Thus, none (though she was only acting for herself) need confront the true extent of her pernicious wickedness.

However, this simple act was no cure; concrete still enclosed her in a twisted corridor begging -- nay, demanding -- she face retribution. Stairs ... stairs ... Escape! rang through her head whilst she snatched her coffee and stepped, faster than any other time in her life, through the hall and down stairs seen countless times ...

Suddenly, life was beautiful from a near-empty asphalt parking lot; Sunset stood in sunlight uncontested by but a cloud. Perhaps, in shade, the air was bone chilling, but the sun lifted temperatures definitively above freezing and felt good. Sunset could breathe and think in such wind-less, open environs. A mourning dove called; its sweet, three-tone tune radiated serenity. Piece by piece, Sunset's bated concentration returned and she depressed onto a metal stair. Nary a thought of her coffee-seared hand flitted through her mind as she sipped the drink and settled into this day's portrayed, non-inimical peace.

Shaky-yet-measured breath slowly calmed her and -- when an alert from school sounded on her phone -- consideration of how to proceed befell. I am not going to school. Sure, refusing attendance was clear violation of her self-inflicted punishment, but: Celestia can whip me tomorrow for all I care, today is my day. After yesterday ... I'm sure she'll understand.

Mind made, Sunset silenced her phone and reached into her jacket's left pocket. Phew, relief swept over her as she thumbed a small wallet containing a decent quantity of ... questionably attained (stolen) cash; this meant, in order for her to -- say -- purchase coffee or breakfast somewhere, she did not have to return to her room. Within some sect of herself, of course, she knew it immoral to use that money for her own desires, but she was in a frame of mind ignoring 'morality'.

If I have to go through this because of what I did, so be it, the least I could get is some peace of mind from my crimes. Theft justified in one line of thought, Sunset walked off -- leaving her empty coffee cup underneath the stair (ensuring it was not taken was not worth again entering her room) -- in search of ... something ... some distraction from ... herself.

Half an hour later found Sunset relaxed once more; her head was held high and her shoulders rolled back as she strolled down streets occupied by few others. No Canterlot students, was the most alleviating observation for her. Alas, when she abandoned the kind elements' comforts for the quiet atmosphere of a café, the sun's light could no more reach her and -- following paying for a strawberry-cream-cheese-topped bagel and coffee -- a scathing, vexing, abhorrent snicker graced her ears.

First, Sunset wrote it off as an hallucination but it developed to a degree which addressed her. "Such a strange sight. Sunset -- playing hooky? Who could've imagined?" Turning toward the voice's source revealed who Sunset was certain she might find: Trixie Lulamoon sat in a booth shuffling a deck of cards with obstinate smugness across her features; she had clean, silver hair (unobstructed by headwear), and an alluring, star-spangled motif patterning otherwise plain clothing. Of course, her purple irises -- reminiscent of Octavia's -- depicted an admittedly demure demeanor.

Sunset glanced to the café's exit ... Trixie was not someone she awoke each day dying to spend time with, but today -- after extending her lower lip in consideration -- the sleep-deprived girl decided to make an exception. What else am I going to do? Peregrinate from place to place without aim until tomorrow? Hence Sunset sauntered to Trixie's spot and slid into a cushioned seat opposite her.

"Exotic! Sunset actually faces the Magnificent Trixie for once!" the third-person speaker began whilst placing her cards down, drawing one, and reaching for a paper cup of her own sitting on the booth's table -- the only thing separating the two. "Such twists from her usual running away. Bless'd the saints art." Thence hearing this, Sunset raised a brow; if it was psychoanalyzation Trixie desired, she was happy to oblige.

"Ah, Trixie, I s'pose we each run off and have our own reasons," she started with idle pondering before declaring her own cognition. "I avoid the gaudy, over-bearingly pompous behavior of people such as yourself -- and their tributes -- and you seem always escaping the shadow which you live each moment ... " She paused for dramatic effect, patted a palm onto the table just loud enough to turn a few heads, looked from it to Trixie and back a few times with an intensity intended to enrapture attention, and detailed slowly (each word was enunciated and given pause so to really hammer her point deep), " ... Ahem ... Courtesy. Of. Octavia ... by incessantly assaulting at each arisen opportunity one who's done little more to you than berate your, 'magic shows.'"

Thenceforth Sunset had Trixie's undivided concentration; the magician held her card at arms' length before rotating her wrist 270 degrees -- clockwise for Sunset -- and made the card seem to disappear. All the while she deadpanned. "What delight! Not only does she speak but she hath a tongue! Oh, this shall be a fun one, for Trixie never anticipated Ever-Austere, Almighty Sunset would deing'st speak with her as if they were ... equals or something of the sort."

Mocking Trixie, Sunset too began speaking unorthodoxically. After all, she was practically raised in a castle. "O', the Ever-Austere, Star-Striking, Astonishing, Gorgeous, Brilliant -- need I go on? -- Able-Bodied Sunset Shimmer doth falleth from graces today. Madness and Discord reigneth over thine world, lowest Parlor Trickster."

Trixie sipped something from her own cup, placed it down with a soft puff, and leaned forward -- seeming amused; the magician's head rested on either fist. "Ah, but for'st Sunset the ingracious refused to seeketh compromising accommodations therein herself and throughout her worlds. Thusly she needs must find herself accosted by souls of residences North, South, West, and East all lands she holdeth dearest. Hence, at least, that hath been the conclusion of any sane man exposed to her such clique of barbarity."

Okay, Sunset barred her teeth. At first, the tone was meant in jest, but the gauntlet dost get thrown with those words.

"Such hubris. Doth thou findeth thyself reiterating these dogmas to disguise thine thoughts from'st thee truest forms? Dost thou not realize thine modus operandi for venting thyself?" With this, Trixie sat back a bit and played with her cup.

Silence only lasted a moment, for Trixie then countered after quick thought, "Each moment of mine wrath -- and that of all those who scorneth thine very walked soil -- i'st thee livelihood earned as every scar which shall haunteth thy days to kingdom com'st berateth thine insolence!"

Ah, we have honesty. Hearing this, Sunset stood, took a deep sip of warm coffee, and announced (louder than she maybe should have but none in the café seemed to care), "Thine words befalleth hearing ears and ring'st my ambitions to annihilate any vestiges or armies thou dare marcheth upon my lines." Pleased as punch with herself, she spoke again whilst retrieving her still-unbitten bagel so Trixie had no time to respond. "You were right, this hath been fun."

Tapping her fingers on the table, the magician spoke not. Instead, she leaned back and shook her head with a grin. Sunset thought no retort was coming so turned to leave, but Trixie did laugh out, "Henceforth they shall marcheth. Look'st 'hind thy head; soldiers attacketh already." To this Sunset held her bagel with her teeth, pawed behind her ears, and found ... Trixie's playing card. Giving the parlor trickster the last word, Sunset merely glared, flicked the thing -- not caring about actually disposing of it -- toward a nearby garbage can, and departed.

Alas, another face she would've rather punched than stared into appeared. "Sunny," Gilda's grating tone was not less annoying compared to Trixie's; the dialect was just ... different ... very, very different. "Out here playing hooky? Why? Because it's such a beautiful day, isn't it? Or does something else bother you?"

Sunset chewed her -- rather delicious -- bagel for a moment before again barring her teeth. "Avast, or doth ye ha'st me something new to speaketh? I doth prefer you not wasteth my moments." Shit, she realized after hearing the words coming out of her mouth, Trixie's contagious!

Gilda sensibly showed an inquisitive look -- as if trying to process what she just heard -- before replying, "Looks like you're busy, too and -- much as I'd love to spite whatever weirdness that is -- I'm also ... well, busy." Seeing little left to say, Sunset used a few short nods to acknowledge the wannabe warrior and watched her walk into the very café whence she left.

Hmm ... Gilda? Trixie? Same place? That can't be a simple coincidence, she recognized the possibility that they were conspiring and thought about spying, but the shop offered no discretion and the pair would be on alert. Bah, they're perfect for each other. Hence sensing future conflict, she began trudging generally toward Canterlot High and staring at her phone; on the electronic display were a few messages from unknown numbers.

"Are you not coming to school today because you're sick?
Celestia knows about yesterday but she still wants to know.
You don't have a lot of strikes, Sunset
-RD" was written in simple English and -- contrary to her prior assertions -- Sunset composed a short-and-sweet response, for she knew that, despite her desires otherwise, in order to fend off Gilda and Trixie ... she would need allies.

"I'll be there in just a bit. Tell her I overslept because I felt poor this morning."

Author's Note

Well, this wasn't a particularly hard thing to write; it just sorta happened. I know I don't know how Elizabethean (Elizabethaen?) English works; I just grabbed a Shakespeare compilation off my study's library shelves and thought, "This looks fun, let's play." and here we are.

I'm still going over it with a mug of coffee in hand as you might be reading it, but it's generally written well enough for public eye.

Also, if you needed a dictionary for this chapter: you're not alone. I don't know if I could ever really describe the amazement at this but: [uI wrote words I didn't know I knew in this chapter. For instance, I had to redefine what, 'enrapture,' means only to find that it was the perfect word for what I was trying to say. It's a super weird experience and I hope it doesn't kill the story too much! Enjoy!

-cheers!

11 ~ Greet, Meet, Speak, and Scheme

Shimmer slipped into her jacket and entered brisk temperatures; the sun rose two minutes ago and it was just above freezing. Of course, Canterlot would be colder, so it was her hope that -- over the next hour -- sunlight would warm the precinct to a similar degree.

Two days have passed since I last saw you, Sunset. Let's see if you explain yourself a little more today.

Vroom sounded her motorcycle as she sped over familiar dirt, gravel, and asphalt roads. 7:21 was the time her phone showed when she left and it read 8:27 as she drove into the school's parking lot. Later than I'd have liked, but not late. Four girls' presences greeted her. Rarity clutched a large coat and paced from point to point atop the lot's concrete walkway which led to the school's back entrance. Fluttershy breathed into a butterfly-patterned scarf -- sitting on a step ascending toward metal doors.

Rainbow and Sunset both acted differently; either leaned against the school's purple-painted, brick back wall, but the former canted her head back against either hand -- she radiated preparedness and energy. Sunset was quite the opposite, for her arms were crossed and her head hung. Also, she still wore practically the same things: tattered jacket and somewhat scuffed attire adorned, but she was missing one of her ... slippers?

Yep, one foot's only covered by a sock. "Well, I said she'd be early." Rarity was first to say anything; her voice chattered in the cold but Sunset ... When Sunset spoke, her tone was grating.

" ... as if she was gonna be late. She practically coordinated what time this was gonna happen." she groaned and pushed herself to a more independent stance. Stretching her arms first high then from side to side, she didn't seem to register any biting cold in her poorly-protected feet. Shimmer noted the purple-haired girl was about to say something else, but ended up getting a question out first.

Sorry, being interrupted sucks, I know! "You wake up on the wrong side of the bed?" she raised a brow to her counterpart, removed a black helmet -- securing it to her motorcycle -- and watched tired eyes glance to the vehicle.

"Something like that. Nice bike -- I like the paint." Sunset spoke fast at first but clear and slow after. Did you just try to gloss over my question, or am I imagining things? Each of the three girls watched in silence as apparently-pointless banter ensued; the only one who didn't watch with idle curiosity was Rainbow -- she was amused.

Shimmer gave something close to an eye roll to the bike's fiery paint and returned, "Me, too. It really brings out my eyes." Then it was her turn to point at Sunset -- at her feet. "Do you want frostbite?" With this, Sunset glanced down to the unprotected foot, gave an offhanded hum, and jabbed a thumb toward the school's entrance. Shimmer followed the digit and discovered that Sunset's shoe was there ... being used as a door stop. "Still a poor choice of footwear," she shrugged out.

"I'll make it. My feet have gotten used to the cold." out Sunset rolled -- akin to her eyes which resulted in a proper, 'whatever' gesture. "Let's just get this over with." None had a problem with this and wordlessly followed Sunset's lead as she retrieved her shoe and ushered everyone inside.

Whilst they navigated plain halls decorated by lockers more than anything else, Shimmer ignored the nostalgia of being at a school again and inquired, "How is this supposed to work, then?" Each girl was silent; they expected Sunset would answer, but the girl felt their stares and let out a fatigued growl.

"Flutter?" she plead, and the often-quiet girl returned sympathy.

Clearing her throat, Fluttershy looked at Shimmer and started, "Well, Celestia -- the principal -- understands why we need to tell people about you, but she thinks the situation should be handled slowly so students have time to adjust; she's asked the Student Council to help us organize things. We're going to the music room to meet with a councilor who should have what we need, and from there we'll start addressing the student body. G-"

Rainbow cut in at this point -- stepping into Sunset's peripheries and saying with wiggling fingers, "The Council asked ... Octavia to help us orchestrate this." She sounded like Octavia was a ghost.

"Why say the name like that?" Shimmer wondered aloud and incited Dash to chuckle.

"See, Sunset doesn't like Octavia ... for some reason she won't say. And, I know, she's pretty stiff, but she's not so bad -- just very direct." Sunset growled to the athlete -- unhappy with the resurfacing of a prior conversation -- and increased her pace.

"Let's just get this crud out of the way," she dully offered. Shimmer mused, another question ... maybe meeting this Octavia will answer it?

Everyone walked through mostly quiet halls. School already started; Celestia had the idea to minimize Shimmer's contact with the rest of the students so that whenever they did run into the rare commuter it was relatively easy to explain themselves. Only four people, to their luck, came across them before they made it to the music room's entrance.

There Sunset stopped. That simple metal door seemed a towering barrier to her; although she entered anyway, she did not do so before patting her hands -- with just flicks of her wrists -- against her thighs and rubbing her fingers together. Shimmer noted this and found a sense of apprehension in entering. Who is this person? she wondered, Who could she be to make Sunset feel the need to collect herself? It's not like Sunset seems particularly timid ...

Any prior appearances of weakness were gone; Sunset comported a new posture -- relaxed and measured like she was wholly awake -- and strode sharp right after stepping in. Shimmer found the room mesmerizing; it had red, velvet-like material covering nigh everything, two windows on either corner of the far wall let some morning rays in, and -- where Sunset led -- there was a staircase leading to an over-hang-like upper section.

Once ascended, Rarity, Rainbow, and Fluttershy were monotonously acknowledged by a lone, black-haired girl in formal attire sitting by one of three small tables. A chess board was set up with moved pieces, for a game was underway. Shimmer was paid no mind for the moment, but Sunset ... Octavia gave Sunset a raised brow of ... Curiosity? Amusement? Hatred? Camaraderie? Though she tried, Shimmer couldn't make heads or tails of the girl's expression. Then -- when she spoke -- there was a power behind her tone; one that could only be felt ... not explained.

"Sunset," she paused, pushed a chair forward, and gestured for her addressee to sit. After Sunset gave narrow eyes and obliged, Octavia revealed a large, green thermos from behind her chair and offered, "Coffee? I know you dread the mornings."

Declining with a raised palm, Sunset explained without thanks, "I'll survive. I would rather we just get this out of the way."

"Ah," Octavia raised both hands so her fingers pointed away from either shoulder before dropping them fast. "Suit yourself, though feel free to make your move at any point during." This is their chess match? Shimmer realized and wanted to examine the board a bit more, but was yanked from her mind by the strong-yet-graceful tone directing a question her way. "You must be the other Sunset, correct? Shimmer, they say for ease? Coffee?"

How does anyone keep it together in front of her? 'Gravitas' would be a severe underestimation. Understanding of Sunset's nervousness dawned but she gave a slow, not-at-all-confident answer nonetheless. "Uh ... That's me and- er- ... N-no, thank you." Octavia hummed at this, showed the others the same hospitality to receive negative responses, and waited for each girl to retrieve a seat -- be it from an adjacent table or from one of few chair stacks around. Of course, Shimmer sat around the chess game to better observe it while the others chose seemingly random spots.

Sunset was losing -- if she was the black army, anyway -- significantly; her king was in check, in a corner, and her queen wasn't far away from danger. Watching Sunset give an unyielding, strangely confident, glare, Shimmer expected that the girl was ignoring the game out of a desire not to lose.

Not seeming even somewhat fazed, Octavia laid things out in very simple terms. "According to the petition you signed, you are meant to stay well away from anything extracurricular. However, we understand the necessity to clarify the difference between you and your ... just desserts, so you have leniency regarding these terms so long as Shimmer is present and your sole purpose is to explain these circumstances. Clear?"

An eye roll and a nod acknowledged.

Being referred to as 'just desserts' was rattling, as if Shimmer's presence was a direct punishment for Sunset. There was also something about the way Octavia spoke which made Shimmer feel like she was being convicted of something; each word was very articulated, her pauses were even and well placed, and what she said sort of flowed ... even though her words had so much ... punch.

"Do not interrupt classes. Do not deliver anything in the auditorium, as work for upcoming ice skating celebrations is behind schedule as is and those working are spending every moment in there trying to catch up. Do not interrupt gymnasium-based clubs during active practice. Do not interrupt any bands in this room during practice. And do not deliver any explanations to Student Council rooms; free time before/after class and during clubs' breaks should suffice for Councilors to learn of this. Of course, I will spread the news to everyone there to expect you and make sure you abide these terms. Additionally, club schedules -- though the members of most never hold very well to them -- are at your disposal ... here ... any questions?"

Handing off a color-coded spreadsheet, Councilor Octavia wrenched her eyes from girl to girl in an inquisitive scan; the only one who showed no sign of discomfort was Sunset ... who stood with the sheet, waved fast -- like she was scoffing at Octavia. Who in their right mind would antagonize someone like this? -- and quipped, "None today, shall I schedule an appointment should that status alter?"

Did she just make fun of Octavia? This thought scared Shimmer, but the councilor seemed emotionless as she retorted, "You still have yet to let me checkmate you, so please do come see me again soon. No one has ever tampered with my things up here. Even if they did, I have the board's picture."

"Great to know ... I suppose that's all we needed. Shall we-"

Shimmer interrupted; she did have a question. "Ah, wait, M-" she stopped. Don't say 'Miss' you idiot! What is she: a federal agent? Not that that would surprise ... "Ahem," she pretended she was only clearing her throat. "You said something about a ... petition? What do you mean?"

Flicking her wrist, Octavia revealed another document -- she was prepared -- and delivered, "I refer to this: the petition Sunset signed, rather cooperatively," Sunset sustained stab wounds from the councilor's deadpan -- both via her look and words -- as Shimmer retrieved and started reading over the paper.

"She's banned from everything but school?" she gaped after a time. "Exactly what did she do that was just okay enough for her not to be expelled?" There was but a moment when Shimmer looked to Octavia for the answer, but the councilor was looking at Sunset. Everyone was looking at Sunset when Shimmer turned to look.

"Exactly, down to the last detail, what did Sunset do?" the purple-eyed girl responded, but did not enlighten. "I think she would benefit greatly from saying it all herself ... loud and clear."

A not-unnoticed gulp came from Sunset yet she dismissed the subject despite. "Maybe another time. For now, we ought to get to work." Without waiting for the others to say 'bye,' she turned for the stairs and didn't look back in any way all the way through the door. Shimmer stayed and looked to Rainbow, Rarity, and Fluttershy for elaboration, but they -- after sharing a few shaky glances -- came to a decision.

"I think we're with Octavia on this one; it probably would be good for her." Rarity offered but soon added, "Though I'd be lying if I said I also just didn't wanna talk about it."

Argh, the remaining fiery-haired girl growled inside. Not helpful. "Have you talked to that girl? Getting details out of her is like pulling your own teeth with nothing but a rope -- no doors! She clearly doesn't wanna talk about it either; what makes you think she'll ever tell me?" she cried out.

Rarity gave a low, "Well ... " as if she wasn't really sure how to word something, but Octavia interjected.

"She owes you, Shimmer, whether she likes it or not. All you need to do is keep pestering that point; she shall give. Well, unless she is -- say -- insane, but I find that unlikely considering her general attitude." Before Shimmer could even comment on this remark, Rainbow stood.

After gliding a finger over her cheek, she softly amended, "I would suggest not pushing too hard; she might or might not be crazy, but she does have a temper."

Deflating in posture, Shimmer bid Octavia farewell, waited for the others to do the same, and the girls descended the steps while Shimmer's mind wracked itself planning. How am I supposed to do any of that? She can stand face to face with someone over bearing like Octavia, and I ... I can hardly talk to my own family without feeling fidgety and awkward! Come that realization, Shimmer felt wholly defeated. I'm never getting her to shed light on any of these riddles. There's just no way!

Moments later found the girls in the dim corridor leading to the music room again; Sunset looked over her newly-attained spreadsheet. "I was hoping to see you worm a little more, Sunset." Rainbow greeted.

"Sorry to disappoint." the reader shrugged her off, but Rainbow wasn't really disappointed.

"Oh, no, it was a most entertaining thing to watch; every little cutting remark from Octavia had you shaking in your slippers -- no matter how hard you wanna deny it. I find that girl always hits the nail on the head, and she's always so cool about it." 'Cool' got Sunset's attention and allowed her to ignore the first comment.

Looking right at Rainbow -- exactly what the athlete wanted -- Sunset exclaimed, "Nothing about that girl is 'cool'! She's just a cold-hearted, condescending, self-serving, elitist ... Ergh! She's a jerk!"

"Remind you of anyone?"

Rarity and Fluttershy let out soft chuckles which became giggles. Shimmer watched in awe as her counterpart, despite all collected-and-confident behavior shown beforehand, lifted and lowered a finger a few times at Dash in a gentle fume (she even stamped her foot down like she was about to shout); her mouth opened but no words came out.

Throughout but a few moments, Shimmer heard the giggles increase in volume and had her previous certainties challenged, for something she did not expect she would ever see happened: Sunset's face flushed -- it even had the slightest red tint. Rainbow started outright laughing at this and, even though she couldn't find the humor, Shimmer chuckled a little just to avoid standing out.

"D-don't ... Don't ... l-laugh!" Sunset tried to be stern but her sudden embarrassment only caused the girls (Rainbow mostly) to guffaw. "Ugh ... incorrigible!" With one cough and few seconds, thus recollecting herself, Sunset's face returned to its normal, creamy complexion -- like the change never happened -- and she leaned against a wall with an irritated glower. "Can we just stay focused?" she plead.

Upon waiting a minute, each girl refocused their efforts -- reconciliated after Rainbow's effective taunt -- toward their goal.

Fluttershy hummed out some of the clubs as they went over the data. "Calligraphy club ... Outdoor Activities club ... Chess-"

"We are not going to the Chess club first." Sunset interrupted, saw Dash about to say something, and gave a deep, 'I'm-going-to-punch-your-dumb-face' scowl. Apparently, the athlete's amusements were done for the day, for she pressed her lips together in silence.

Of course, few clubs would even be in session at that time anyway, as school only recently began, so the group went first to the cafeteria -- where a study hall was taking place. Disregarding many hateful and curious looks when they entered the room, Sunset bitterly announced -- knowing full well she was responsible and needed to handle this -- a standard introduction.

"Excuse me!" Nothing more was required to garner attention. Hell, many eyes were already staring beforehand. "This is an extremely weird thing to say, so I'm going to make it brief!" she pointed at Shimmer -- who sort of forced herself to smile and wave. Please do be brief, this is a lot of people. "She is Sunset Shimmer; well, so am I, but she was born here. I am the Sunset who came through the portal outside and made all your lives terribly miserable. That said, she's done nothing to any of you, so please take a moment to ask if you're -- say -- throwing crud at the right one."

None seemed to say anything; the stares just reigned in silence. "Well? Do you under-" Someone interrupted her speech by launching a hacky sack into her shoulder.

"Did I get the right one?" they called; if anyone surrounding them didn't start laughing, Sunset couldn't tell.

With the crowd seeming to have caught the gist, she stomped out of the cafeteria with grit teeth. She knew that was gonna happen, Shimmer recognized. But she just stood right up, in front of them all and handled it without even shouting back ... That can't be fun.

For another three study halls, a free period, and two club rooms, Shimmer watched Sunset broadcast the same thing. Sure, sometimes Rarity, Rainbow, or Fluttershy needed to talk to the students first -- to actually make them pay attention -- but it was always Sunset explaining ... and it always ended more or less the same; spitballs, crumpled up papers, someone threw a smashed soda can, plastic bottles, or other school-oriented accoutrements impacted her -- never Shimmer.

During a break sitting against bland, white-tiled walls in a rather narrow hall, Rainbow pondered aloud, "Tell me if any of those eraser marks welt; I'm curious."

That would suck, was Shimmer's thought, but she decided not to voice it. However, given Sunset's response ... Maybe I should have. "For each one that does, I'm going to pelt three at you at twice the speed, and you'll tell me if any of them bleed." she almost hissed while she stood and turned to the athlete. Her face fell in a scary, one-sided frown. No, it's downright homicidal. This is nothing like before.

Previously her anger was a lot more ... subdued -- she was much softer -- but this was an expression which terrified Shimmer; every muscle in her body locked at the sight. Maybe siding with her wouldn't be such a bad idea. Make her feel less ... attacked? This contemptuous look lasted about two minutes -- at the end of which Dash entirely broke eye contact.

Silence ensued as Sunset folded her arms across her chest in an aloof gesture. How can anyone have so much command over their presence? After another two minutes, Fluttershy unwound any remaining tension with a quick-release statement. "My free period is almost done; I have math soon. Can you manage without me?"

Unexpectedly, Sunset let out a remorseful, affirming hum. " ... yeah," was all she said.

Flutter bid everyone goodbye, was soon gone, and Rarity piped up, "Where next?" To this, Shimmer found herself unhappy trying to answer. I really don't think I could watch this for much longer.

"Actually ... I- uhm ... I think we could stop for today." Each head turned. Sunset wasn't just surprised; she was shocked. "I mean, we've made a pretty good start, right?"

With two slow blinks, Sunset started, "Are you sure? I just feel- shit."

Gilda approached with a scalene smile -- almost cooing, "Ooh, she was right. That's an interesting development!" Dash instantly bore her own frown -- though it did not intimidate Shimmer nearly as much as Sunset's had.

"What do you want?" the athlete spat. Shimmer tensed up upon seeing the girl -- taller than any of them -- towering above. Of course, Sunset looks entirely relaxed. Like she's been ready for this moment for hours. A harsh-yet-playful voice grated against her ears while the tall girl continued walking toward Sunset.

"Nothing much, really, I just heard there were two Sunsets ... had to check out all the possibilities, you know?" Not stiffening to any stance of aggression, Sunset leaned against the wall -- as if daring Gilda to do something -- brought a hand over her mouth, and yawned.

Near the end of this yawn, she doled out, "Well, you checked it out. Why don't you -- i dunno -- check something else out now?" With this, Gilda tilted her head back and forth and locked eyes somewhere. This didn't fail to catch Sunset's eye, and the wannabe warrior left with little more than a pensive hum down the same direction she'd been walking.

One moment passed and Sunset whirled her head around to see Gilda and Trixie conversing in front of the opening to another corridor. "Ahem, Rainbow, six o' clock." she spoke fast to the athlete who -- spinning around and picking up on Sunset's desire without requiring clarification -- started moving toward them through a sparse crowd. "I'll be right behind you; have your ringer on vibrate!" Barely, Dash heard this and tried to usher a grunt of acknowledgement, but Sunset didn't hear it.

"What's that all about?" Shimmer asked instinctively and sensibly. Shit, more questions. Answers?

Shrugging, Sunset stood and hurried, "Nothing worth discussing now, but I need to move. Let's get you to the parking lot, okay? We'll meet again in a couple days and continue from there?" 'Course not, who needs answers ...

"Yeah, sounds fine." she sighed agreement and let herself be led to the same exit whence they entered. When goodbyes were said and she was alone again, Shimmer found the sun's light to have really warmed the area, but a wind still chilled the air. Before igniting her motorcycle's engine, she just ... sort of felt bad in that breeze -- like she was responsible for making Sunset go through this. I don't wanna cause that. Ugh, why can't she just be more forthcoming?

Alas, like many questions Shimmer had, it wasn't going to be answered today, so she mulled over the day's events again and again as she rode home.

Urban environs gave way to more scarce landscapes of sand or forests, the roads changed bit by bit, and Shimmer found herself paying little attention to anything more than what was directly ahead; only a road that seemed to go on forever -- leading to what or where none could truly be certain -- but she knew how to get home despite unawareness. Still no closer to having things really figured out, she concluded, heaved a depressed breath, and absentmindedly entered Aerick's farmlands -- most of the journey back seemed a blur.

Hell, most of the day seemed a blur. However, when she walked her bike into the workshop, she noticed the English man sketching something at his workbench. Neither of them seemed to really register the other. Sure, the two exchanged swift greetings but otherwise barely spoke; they were both in their own worlds.

Motorcycle away and a sense of dejection within her, she stepped inside and made her way to her room without paying attention to her surroundings save polyurethane-coated, oak stairs, railings, and floors; they had a shine to them which begged attention. However, when she entered her rather plain, unpainted and sparsely-decorated -- most of the wood and carpet was without design or color -- room, she stared into a mirror and really thought about how she looked: sleek, tight jacket, well-patterned red-and-orange skirt, untarnished tights leading into well-maintained boots ... Honestly, I look almost exactly like her if she was nothing like her. Because that makes sense.

Ten minutes passed where she just turned and compared herself to Sunset in her obviously-never-finished chamber, but she wasn't really thinking about appearance. How did she do that thing? Feeling silly, she tried to recreate her counterpart's reigned-in anger to no avail; her hand's waving speed seemed off, her stance wasn't right, and the way she tried stomping was just wrong.

Do I ever look that way? Like ... mad but embarrassed? What was the last thing I was mad about? Ugh, this is going to drive me crazy ... I just can't see myself being anything like her; she's headstrong, she knows what to say and how to say it well, she's just ... confident. Shimmer felt severely underwhelming compared to Sunset or Octavia, but hope was there ... she's still a person! At least, so I've seen, she's got some insecurities.

Pondering how her counterpart seemed simply socially superior to her in every way wasn't very fun, so she instead thought of how to 'press the point' as Octavia said. An hour passed and not one feasible plan revealed itself; she, again, found herself thinking about Sunset's gentle fuming.

Hmm ... it was like she wanted to yell, but she couldn't find a reason to. It was ... contained rage? No, she wasn't mostly mad; she was embarrassed -- by what she said? Because she was being hypocritical about Octavia? I guess. Still, the way she did it was ... playful? No. Definitely not. Childish? Maybe a little ... Then the answer hit her, but it was a slow realization. ... cute? Was it cute? ... Yeah, no two ways about it. Another question seemed far more relevant. Have I ever been cute?

Suddenly nothing was more important; she stared into the mirror again but saw no such quality. All that stared back was an uncertain girl who barely seemed able to stand straight. Definitely not cute. Furrowing her brow, she turned away from the reflection and walked right back outside -- to Aerick's workshop.

Exactly as before, he was sketching something but she caught his attention with a quick holler. Once he turned around and raised his brow, she -- not seeing a better way to broach the issue -- bluntly asked, "Am I cute?" This received two slow blinks and a low hum ... not an immediate answer.

"Uh, well ... " Aerick pawed a greying beard. "I'd say so, lass, bu' i's more of a ... 'shy' than 'cute.' No' tha' that's a bad thing, Shim." he added the last part to chart unknown waters.

"That's exactly what I thought! What about when I'm mad, am I cute when I'm mad?"

" ... " silence gripped the workshop. " ...'ave y'ever been mad 'round me?" Good point. Hmmm ...

Only having thought of what to say next for a moment, she changed her question. "Well, is that a bad quality? Being cute when you're mad, I mean?"

"No' a' all!" Aerick half shouted, "'n fact, me wife was the same way ... she was adorable when mad- wai' ... impor'ant qualifier: she was adorable when somewha' upset; I'd ev'n do some li'l' things to purposef'ly see 'er get tha' way."

Sunset cut in, "And when she was more than somewhat upset?"

Grave features overtook the older man as he answered, "she was 'orrifyin' when she was real mad, bu' I knew she'd always le' me know tha' way if I'd overstep'd me bound'ries. Actually, it was a rather splendid system. 'Course, I never saw 'er get real mad much la'er on -- prob'ly 'cause I learned a li'l' more 'bout what ground 'er gears. Still, I loved that woman righ' 'til the end ... Where's this all comin' from, Shim? Somebo'y call you cute while you were angry?"

"No, no, not me; it was ... someone else. She got really mad later, though -- it made me feel awful even though it wasn't my fault! -- and the idea was just stuck in my head."

Aerick reassured fast, "Well, in my experience dealin' wit' such people: they're kinder'n house cats you've fed when you trea' 'em like you care to respect their wishes ... " Shimmer watched the man jab a very serious, threatening finger her way and give a stiff scowl. " ... but they're deadlier'n starvin' moun'ain lions when you demean 'em. Be careful 'f you keep hangin' 'round this comp'ny ... and be nice! Even when they're wrong an' you need to tell 'em for it!"

"Ah, thanks, Aerick. I'll try to do just that"

"'Nytime, 'cept no' 'cause 'times I feel like workin'. Now, shoo, shoo! You're fillin' me 'ead with all this nonsense. It's distractin'!" Shimmer laughed at this and acquiesced; it was a goofy sort of anger that he employed ... something about it just made talking to him all the better.

Author's Note

Ev'nin' Steven,

Aight she's aight. I'm try'n to fix her (some unnecessary words 'ere or there, damned widow-makers, odd structure or two), but we'll get there. Slowly, page by page, line by line, this story's gettin' fixed. Well, at least, improved until I can't bear to try improving it anymore. Though I'll be honest: I really don't know what to fix. Any feedback is welcome!

Pleasant dreams!

12 ~ Is There Anybody in There?

Better than being chained to a goalpost and having mud dumped all over me, Sunset decided whilst staring at a small, circular bruise on her left wrist -- courtesy of a catapulted pencil -- and glancing to Rarity. Shimmer was gone. And with her a never-ending pestering of trying to make amends and having hatred literally thrown in my face. "Sorry to have you miss class; I know history is a favorite of yours." she apologized only to receive a hand wave and a shaking head.

"No worries, dear; I'll have plenty of time to catch up. Just leave me out of whatever manic ploy for revenge you and Dash are trying for."

This Sunset chose to grin at. "Deal. I'll see you later?" After the fashionista nodded, Sunset padded off to find Rainbow; she returned to the hallway where the athlete went missing and dived down the corridor where Gilda and Trixie stood before. Every class she peaked into, closet, window, or locker she passed ... nothing. Eventually she had to give up the search with the lunch bell's ringing. Of course, she texted Rainbow twice asking, "Where are you?" but received no answer. Hence, she assumed that Dash deactivated her device in favor of stealth. Still, it's a little unnerving.

Heaving, she entered the cafeteria despite her apprehension to being in clear view of other students. Where, where, where? she repeated to herself -- ignoring stare after glare and mumbled discontentment after mumbled disdain. All she sought in her scans of the various students was one, rainbow-haired, really hard to miss, irritating girl, but neither she, Gilda, nor Trixie appeared.

Someone lobbed a teaspoon of jello at her back, but her mission was too important for her to care. Actually, it was so important that, when another student saw her disregard for humiliation and -- producing a viscous Splash! -- dumped the contents of a strawberry-chocolate milkshake over her head, she continued forward.

Mm ... strawberry -- my favorite, she relished the flavor as she cleared the sugary, sticky substance from her eyes and took a taste so she could continue scanning. I'll clean it later. Laughter was ignored. Somehow -- not that Sunset noticed -- the milkshake perpetrator's cackle died as if the bullying just wasn't as fun in the absence of a satisfying reaction from their victim.

Uncaring of her intense focus and efforts, none of Sunset's targets graced her vision. However, she came across Rarity (again), Applejack, Pinkie, and Fluttershy at their own table and -- without greeting them -- asked, "Have any of you seen RD?"

"Oh my!"

"Jumpin' Jackals!"

"Uhm ... "

"Oh! great hair dye idea!"

Each girl had very different responses to the same thing -- though they were all of utter surprise. What? Just answer my questi- oh. Sunset realized why they were shocked and tried to write it off to urge responses. "I know, it's not important right now though. Answer my question ... " She added after Rarity gave a discontent brow raise and tilted her head, " ... please."

Politeness did nothing, for they all shook their heads or gave otherwise negative replies.

Dammit! Sunset continued to search to no avail; she went to her classes and looked for the athlete in between each one with the same results. Of course, every remark from a teacher or faculty member for her to clean her hair was ignored. Hell, she hardly saw what was happening at the front of her classrooms. Rather, she fiddled with her hair (what was spared anyway), her pencil, a book -- whatever she could get her hands on -- and impatiently considered where Dash, Gilda, and Trixie were. At last, when her chemistry teacher kicked her out because her mess of a hairstyle was too, 'distracting,' the answer struck her. Octavia!

Stomping away from chemistry, she stopped and turned around ... Oops, wrong way. In my defense, it doesn't help that all these hallways look just about the same. Few people adorned the walkways. Those who did either disapproved of Sunset's pure existence or ignored her presence with a scoff. Still, she didn't care, for she had a goal and would focus on little else before attaining it.

Here it is, the Student Council Office. None of her felt like turning the room's plain doorknob -- she was certain to be met with dismay and hate -- for it was a direct violation of her already-loose agreements with the members. Fortune favored her, though, and she didn't need to enter.

Hissing sounded, "What are you doing?" Clack, clack, clack came Octavia with a strong, irritated stepping cadence; her face was beset by a familiar frown and narrow, glaring eyes.

"Octavia! I-I was just-" Sunset tried to speak but the councilor stepped between her and the office door before jabbing a finger toward her face. This simple expression of 'back up' was not lost on Sunset, so she took wide steps away from the door and waved either hand in front of her.

As expected, Octavia -- shooting anger with a sharp, precise intonation -- chastised, "About to do something you would regret? If you want to lose our chess match, it must wait- I have work to do."

Come to think of it, Sunset considered while she stretched to compose a response, What was I thinking? Just walk in? At least knock, dammit! How arrogant are you? After a moment's thought she explained, "Pretty much, but I have a good reason- I swear!" Tilting her head, the councilor crossed her arms and cleared her throat like she was about to spit -- indicating that Sunset better clarify post haste. "I know, I know! 'Stay away from the Student Council.' It's the one thing you really want me to abide by, but I need you to tell me something!"

" ... " Silence and an impatient, tapping foot urged her on.

"Do you know where Trixie is?" With this, Octavia's face fell into a well-known stoicism and Sunset tried to breathe. Just tell me so I can go! Stop being so ... intimidating already! Soon, once Sunset had a moment to get uncomfortable under the councilor's stare, Octavia sighed.

Deadpanning, she swiftly described, "Trixie's been gone since well before lunch. Do you need something else, or will you leave already?"

Sunset didn't think very much; she just wanted to escape the purple spotlights, so she -- no pauses -- exhaled, "No that's all thank you I'll leave bye." Alas, despite her quick evacuation, she felt Octavia boring holes into the back of her head all the way down the halls until line of sight was broken; even then, something about the councilor still lingered -- like she was being watched by the very walls around.

Jarred and with her skin crawling, Sunset paced outside the next class she would need to be in when the bell rang: calculus. What's that mean? Trixie's gone? Gilda's probably gone too. Rainbow must've tailed them! Yeah, that's it, and she needed to stay close to them for ... some reason and can't risk messaging me back.

These reassurances did little, for she kept poking holes in her own theories. Who am I kidding? Why wouldn't she message me back? There's always time when you're hiding behind stuff and tailing people to do something like send a text. Sunset found herself biting her nails and grasping for straws. Her phone died! That must be it! 'Course that's it; I know what it's like to forget to charge your phone. Duh, Sunset!

Musings and attempted theorizing led to worry, and Sunset was knocked out of her mind when Mr. Powers's door flew open; the teacher was not happy and -- upon recognizing who was outside his class -- scolded, "Don't you have somewhere else to be? Maybe do something about your hair? Those aren't good colors for you! We're trying to work in here. Scram!"

Later, when the bell rang for her to actually attend his class, Sunset tried to muster an apologetic face, but Mr. Powers just shook his head. Of course, Sunset didn't really pay much attention after that.

Every equation and definition thrust over the class went in and right out of Sunset's ears. The world seemed muted as fantasies of what Trixie and Gilda might be up to invaded. Just stay calm, Sunset. They aren't crazy, you're the one who's acting crazy. Sure, they're intense but they wouldn't do anything drastic out of nowhere. That's something you'd do; take a mad risk and hope for the best ... but what are they doing?

Nothing seemed to matter more. In fact, Dash's A.W.O.L. status was gnawing at her. Three times she was shushed for tapping on the desk and -- when the dismissal bell rang and everyone started leaving -- Mr. Powers demanded, "Sunset, come see me."

Without thinking, she walked up to his desk and breathed out, "Yes?"

" ... Is something wrong? I mean, other than the fact that you seem to not care about the ... whatever it is cracking in your hair?" the teacher said -- failing to contain ire and twirling a pencil in his hand. Yes, something's very wrong, was Sunset's first figured response, but she scratched her chin and tried to consider how she must be acting. No, Sunset, you're just being paranoid. Don't tell him anything. He'll just think you're losing your mind; not that that's far off. Another part of her chimed in, Sunset, this isn't just a coincidence, you should speak up! Who cares what he thinks?

" ... " Silence was her answer for a time and the teacher answered with the same.

Finally, Sunset threw together a vague response. "Everything's fine ... I'm just ... being weird. I guess? Does that make sense?" Mr. Powers tilted his head before nodding and leaning across his desk.

"Ah," he acknowledged. "Well, I know what it's like, trust me." No you don't. "But, you know, whatever it is you're 'being weird' over ... I would very much appreciate it if you had it figured out before you come to my class tomorrow." Was I that distracting? I didn't notice. "In fact, I would rather you not come to class at all if you're just going to sit there, chewing on your fingers and making noise without paying attention. If you can't keep it quiet and you won't talk about it, don't make the rest of us suffer."

Chewing on my fingers? Sunset glanced down to find that none of her digits still had nails sticking out passed the ends. Actually, they had red bite marks on each pad and tip. "Sorry, Nential-san ... " she offered a quiet apology to which he gave a soft sigh.

"Just ... take care of it, okay? And yourself while you're at it." He pointed to her sugar-stuck, fiery hair. Worried thoughts still buzzed through Sunset's head, so she gave a dejected hum and began walking away. However, her attention was called again. "Sunset!" She whirled her head back to face the teacher -- who pointed back toward her seat. "You might want your things." Embarrassment bit her demeanor.

How stupid are you? she insulted herself before offering a dumbfounded, "T-thanks. I'll see you tomorrow."

After a moment, when Sunset again walked toward the class door, he called; this made Sunset feel like an absolute idiot, for she thought she missed something else. Hence, she didn't even turn to look. Instead she just stopped in the door frame and clenched her hands into fists. Relief swept over her at the teacher's next words. "Whatever has you freaking out right now, it'll pass."

Giving little more than a hum, she left. Whether or not he was right ... things didn't get better that day.

Upon arriving home, she fell against her door in stertorous breath; she had messaged Rainbow again, despite her affirmations that the athlete's phone was dead, but received nothing. What do I do? What do I do? No amount of deep breathing exercise seemed to help, but an idea which should have occurred sooner did. Rarity! Fluttershy! Those girls might have heard from Rainbow by now! Furiously she tapped a message out on her phone just to receive a pang of fear.

'Not since I went to math this morning. Why? Is something wrong?'

Fluttershy's response was not only dreaded but came two minutes after Sunset asked; subsequent texts from the others came rapidly as well -- saying more or less the same thing -- and Sunset suddenly needed to figure out what to say to them. You can't worry them like this; they'll just freak out like you are and they can do about as much as you can. That wouldn't be fair.

'No, I think her phone just died and I'm being impatient, sorry.' The message did perfectly to fend off farther questioning, but Sunset's mind wasn't put at ease. She tried running a hand through her hair.

"Ouch!" It was caked in a strawberry-scented, sugary mess; thus she only effected yanking stuck-together knots. Damn, I forgot. Alas, trying to clean it out required a shower and -- while looking over clothing and hygiene provided some distraction -- nothing seemed to save her from this guilty feeling. Still, it was nice to think about something other than the day's events.

Examining her clothes was a monotonous task anyway. Tattered, torn, scuffed, stained ... I need new clothes. Despite her thoughts of looking kempt, something else came to mind and allowed her to ignore the plan of shopping. I don't have anyone to look good for anyway, who cares?

This in mind, Sunset showered (avoiding her mirror at all costs), sat on her bed in clean, mostly-intact wear, and stared at the sugary mess on her jacket's shoulders and back. You're getting washed, too. Throughout her evening, she continued to attack her senses with menial labors to avoid thinking about Rainbow; she washed her clothes via hand, stick, and bucket -- all her clothes including clean ones -- she unpacked her backpack, organized her kitchen and desk ... she did anything to occupy herself. However, when she looked over an immaculate living space, thoughts returned and she found her breathing again labored.

What do I do? What do I do? Ah, homework! Happy to have found yet more distraction, Sunset went over her books and notes for the day ... there were none. I didn't do anything for classes today? Shit. No matter, if she didn't know what she was meant to do, she would read material and work on her own.

Poosh! her history textbook echoed through her quiet, lit room as she stacked it atop various papers and calculus books. I read it all. Every problem ... Every passage ... Staring at marks on paper was hurting her eyes. Of course, she was surprised at her ability to accomplish things when she really didn't want to accomplish something else, but she was out of ideas save one. Time for sleep- shit! It was five in the morning, she was exhausted, and she needed some rest, so she buried herself in bed and lied still but sleep didn't come.

Fatigue helped not at all and neither did having nothing to focus on, yet sunset tried anyway until it became clear that the only thing she was doing was freaking out. Half passed five, she threw her comforter off her and began pacing. Why ... Alas, she could hardly keep her thoughts straight; it took ten minutes of her diving into a rabbit hole of self loathing before she got back on track.

Oh, that's right, what would Trixie and Gilda want with Rainbow? Suddenly dissociation beset.

What would you have wanted with Rainbow? Sunset considered her question without questioning herself. I would want her to give me something of hers or otherwise get out of my way. Unless she could be used as a tool to get someone else to do what I want. Abhorrence struck her with this thought as she walked in circles. How dare you? She's not a tool; she's a person! Like you! Critical thinking returned for but a moment. Wait, you know that now, Sunset, why do you feel the need to point that out? Oh no ...

Realization replaced dissociation. You're having a conversation with yourself ... inside your head ... Forgetfulness then ensued. What was the question, again, anyway? Trixie? Gilda? You? Why do you care about them again? Oh, that's right, you hate all those people ... Hang on! That's not a question!

Like a song on repeat, her thoughts looped; she didn't understand half of what she was thinking and it continued until a buzzing sound startled her. Seven o' clock! When did that happen? Duh, Sunset, an hour after six, when else? Her morning routine was flipped on its head; coffee was forgotten about and she barreled out her door -- somehow taking ages to prepare -- at seven thirty.

Nothing made sense that day. Hell, she could hardly say what happened; it started with her arriving to class ten minutes late -- always fun -- and her teachers' lectures were incoherent prattle while she flitted between actual academic work and concern about Rainbow ...

Rainbow! I need to find her today. Well, that's what she told herself, but a heavy distraction invited her to forget soon. "Sunset! Did you hear me?" No, she thought first.

"Yeah ... " was what she said.

"Then why are you still sitting there, head against your arm, not doing what I asked?" her English teacher spoke with more than impatience; joy was in the tone as well.

Sunset was caught in her habitual lie. No other lies could possibly explain her actions without leading to deeper interrogation, so she confessed, "Because I didn't hear what you said and lied about it for no other reason than that it felt natural ... " None in the room expected this honesty; it just wasn't like delinquent teenagers to own up to themselves like that. Hence, silence ruled for a moment before the teacher again composed herself.

"Well, please take out your copy of Othello and turn to page six. Actually, why don't you start today's reading?"

Understanding no reason to rebel, Sunset reached down to her backpack to find ... nothing. She completely neglected to pack her bag before she left. " ... I can't," she continued to spout this awful truth business. "I didn't bring it." This caused a couple snickers through the room and the teacher threw her hands in disappointment. After pinching her nose's bridge, she brought Sunset a small, stapled-together pamphlet detailing the Shakespearean play and slammed it on her desk.

"Then read page six ... and start copying from there. Capeesh?"

No ... Sunset had to be honest again. "I ... can't do that either."

Irritation. "Why not?"

Just get it over with. "Because I didn't ... bring anything to school today." First, no noise was made. Next, snickers became all out laughter and Sunset fought herself to keep from putting her head on the desk. Her teacher shushed the class, placed a hand on Sunset's desk, and sighed.

"I'm appreciating your truthfulness and use of concision here but ... care to explain why?" There was more snickering. However, since it seemed to work so well, Sunset decided not to lie here too.

After vehemently shaking her head, she replied, "No, please, I'd really rather not ... "

None of her peers laughed at this and her teacher simply turned away -- demanding instead, "Alright, then, why don't you come up to the front and just read the whole thing for us? For as much as she wanted to die under the mocking expressions of other students, Sunset couldn't deny that the debacle turned out well if all possibilities -- like detention -- were considered.

From class to class she peregrinated. Sometimes she thought about where she was going and other times she just walked until someone asked in one way or another, "What are you doing?" Of course, every answer she had to that question was an expression that she, herself, did not know. What am I doing? School? Not very well. I mean, it's hard to do anything at school without supplies. Oh, I'm looking for someone. Trixie! Look for Trixie! Wait, it wasn't Trixie ... Who am I looking for? What am I doing here?

Lunch rolled around, no one seemed to bother her while she found a seat by her 'friends,' and she (unaware) started dozing off in front of them. Once some awkward glances were exchanged, Fluttershy shook her to a surprised awakening and asked, "Sunset? Did Rainbow ever get back to you?"

Shit! Rainbow! That's right, that's what I'm doing. Oh, what do I say. Truth seemed to work well in English, but Sunset considered the ramifications of honesty in this instance. Yeah, she'd be worried, but so are you! Just be straight with Flutter; she hasn't lied to you -- I think. Tell her, Sunset, just say: 'No and I'm really worried.' so her thoughts said, but her mouth ... her mouth spoke differently, as if there was a pre-programmed command waiting for the right input to flourish.

"Oh, yeah ... she's really feeling under the weather though; her text was really awkward to read too -- I'd just let her rest." No! Wait! Shit! That's not what I meant; how do I recover? Time to think wasn't granted.

Rarity chimed in. "Simply dreadful, maybe we should go over and check on her after school?" No no no. Don't do that! Sunset found herself in a pit where she could only claw -- desperately trying to climb out or scream for help. Of course, internally, she stressed while repeating something she never seemed to find an answer to. What do I do? For fucks' sake, Sunset, just tell them!

" ... mmm ... " she tried but nothing came out. Heads turned and she spun something fast just to get the eyes away from her. "Uhm, that's a little fast. I mean, she's really proud; she wouldn't wanna worry you guys." Are we talking about Rainbow, or you here? "Maybe it should be a weekend thing. You know, if she doesn't bounce back before then ... ?"

...

Are you even here, Sunset? Do you even have control over the words you're letting out? Sweat dripped down the back of her neck -- behind her hair -- as a voice answered inside her head.

Doesn't look like it.

Much to her delight, Applejack bailed her out. "Well, that's true, maybe we should try givin' her a spell to get over it. Wanna meet up Saturday?" Agreeable hums sounded around the table and Rarity stared at Sunset. Alas, no matter how hard she tried, the purple-haired girl's stare made her fidget. Please don't lie. Please don't say something related to Rainbow. Please ...

Before the fashionista spoke, Fluttershy asked, "You said her text was really awkward to read? Can I see it?"

Again Sunset lied without thought. " ... My phone's dead." You ... You didn't even need to say that! You could have just honestly told them you're having an off day and left your stuff home. Do you even have your phone, Sunset? Her lack of integrity and wakefulness was scaring her, but the others seemed completely normal -- like Sunset was a totally normal person. Once more, she didn't have time to correct her mistake or own up to her falsehoods, as Flutter hummed and Rarity went ahead with what she was going to say prior.

"You know ... " she said as if she was wanting to speak for a while but didn't quite have the gumption, "You've not been looking too swell yourself, Sunset. I mean, you were just about asleep a moment ago; are you sure you're feeling okay?" Oh thank you so much; Sunset this is easy! Just say what's really happening. even vaguely.

Upon coughing, Sunset inhaled and looked at the fashionista square in the face. "No, I'm not. I've been staying up way too late recently and I've been feeling sick at the thought of eating." Truth! Oh, stars above, sweet truth! Rarity sank a little bit in sympathy at this.

"Oh, well, is there anything we could do? I mean, is there something you'd like us to do?"

Sunset deadpanned but -- for some reason -- recomposed herself. Yes! Please help me not to be such a garbage-tier human being! This is damn terrible! I'm losing it over here! "No, no, I'll be fine. I just need to have some time to myself. After the weekend I'll be peachy keen, thanks though!" More lies. More lies. Abruptly, Sunset stood up, for she couldn't continue to hold this conversation. Every question ... Every thing that fell passed her lips was grating against her better judgement. Obviously she couldn't say what she thought, so she was just going to keep lying and -- as much as she'd lied before -- every lie was making her stomach churn. Actually, every lie was disgusting her, and she didn't seem to know how to stop! Have you lived in deceit and scandal so long that you can't see anything else?

Hence, she dismissed herself with a -- somewhere in between -- half truth. "I feel pretty queasy, really, I'm just going to go to the nurse." None of her so-called friends had the chance to say goodbye before she was gone ...

Somehow ... Why is it so easy when I'm not talking to someone who'd be hurt by the truth? Somehow she told each of her teachers -- privately -- that she was having a very disconcerting day and had nothing to contribute to class. Every ... Single ... One seemed to understand (Especially Mr. Powers) and just left her alone while she twiddled her thumbs at her desk -- praying for the bell to ring so she could leave.

When she was dismissed from school, and halfway home, she stopped ... Dammit! I never found -- or even asked Celestia about -- Rainbow! That was it. Her own demons won. Nothing could save her. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid! STUPID! Looking around, there was nobody -- just suburban roads and infrastructure devoid of human souls. Nobody could hear her out or help her even if she could tell them the truth. Tears streamed as she realized that she was alone ... no one around meant no allies too. Hell, her 'friends' would only talk to her because one of their friends said it was humane. Knowing nothing else to do, she held her phone (her habit of putting it in her jacket pocket granted her this), in shaking hands, and stared over past messages -- nothing from Rainbow.

One person ... One contact she considered talking to -- the only person who might be able to keep things between them and not be too affected by her evil behavior. Due to this, she composed a concise, pleading message with trembling fingers.

'Please. I need help. I've been terrible.'

However, when she read the message back, she thought, What are you doing? you're just going to get her wrapped up in all of this and hurt her too, so she deleted the draft and exited the conversation marked, 'Shimmer,' before continuing home. Just keep it to yourself ... You can figure this out ... Just ... sleep on it. For once, when she thought of sleep, fatigue seemed to come easy.

Sunset crashed instantly, asleep before hitting the floor, upon closing her door -- not even making it to bed.

Rarity talked and talked ... though Sunset didn't understand a word. Fluttershy was with her too but neither seemed to make any sense, or were their words just not being heard? People walked all around them yet the sound of footsteps was missing. One thing registered; Sunset felt bad, gross, stupid, insensitive ... "Life would be better for us all if I'd never been born!" she avowed after growing tired of not understanding those nearby. Alas, when she spoke, everyone vanished. White overtook the scene and nothing had distinguishing characteristics.

Until snow started blowing in her face. Then she began feeling attacked and ran ... not anywhere in particular. Come to think of it, where am I? Time to ponder or solve the question wasn't allowed, for she ran right into ... something and fell onto her rear.

Glancing up revealed nothing more than a silhouette. Who ... Whoever it was didn't say; they just extended an arm in offering to help her up.

Of course, it took a moment's consideration, but Sunset took the hand and felt ... nothing. It was like the person didn't actually exist and she was just standing of her own accord. "You," the silhouette spoke after a moment. Me? What about me? Sunset thought this but apparently found that she spoke, for the silhouette seemed to answer. "You ... You are at fault." For what? Images -- no, feelings -- of grief, sadness, suffering flashed before her.

Fluttershy's hurt face became distinct. "Wait!" Sunset screamed, "I didn't hurt Flutter. I mean, I did, but not since before! This isn't my fault! I never wanted to be around them! I just wanted to be left alone!"

Obstinacy returned, "Whatever stops the tears ... is it working?"

Suddenly the voice was all too clear for Sunset. "Princess? Is that you! What do you mean, 'my fault!' Anything that's happening now is a direct result of people who've refused to leave me alone. Like I told them: I understand what made me so awful, I can let it go, so why don't they? If anything, it's their fault for prodding and getting mixed up with me!"

" ... "

Slowly, the voice delivered, " ... like I told you: Whatever stops the tears. Is it working? Because I don't think it is." Sunset fumed; she prepared to shout for she wasn't being listened to ... but things started tearing down -- bit by bit and then super fast -- around her.

Wet ... the sensation jolted her to wakefulness; Sunset pushed herself to be sitting on her side in front of her room's door. Placing a hand on either cheek revealed an obvious dampness and glancing to the carpet below displayed a puddle of tears. I feel so stupid! I'm just wrong! I don't know what to do. Somebody ... She cut her own thought train off and redirected it -- for some reason lucidity refueled her eyes. What the hell, Sunset, why do you need someone to help you figure this out? Who are you, anyway: someone without the capacity to choose what color socks to wear by yourself?

Everything seemed so clear, so easy at that moment while she checked her phone. No texts from Rainbow were visible but that didn't matter, for all she had to do was walk into school tomorrow ... Okay, today I mean, it's one in the morning. I've been asleep for a while.

Upon pondering what she needed to do, she took a double take to her cell phone. ONE IN THE MORNING? she cheered inside. I've been asleep for eight and a half hours! Rightfully so, Sunset felt she could do anything and she wanted to do everything; she wanted to tell her friends she was lying about Rainbow, to go find her ...

... but it was really late. Henceforth she paced and mused. Thoughts were easy to keep in direction and she had exactly what she needed.

Just walk right inside and explain things to Celestia. It doesn't matter who's being underhanded, she'll reprimand them. Confidence was her's again and she wasn't going to let it go, so she had coffee at five A.M., showered,dressed in clean wear, and strode out her door a quarter before seven for a leisurely walk to school. People stared -- their shit-faced snarls refused to let up -- but Sunset didn't care; it was like the world was eating out the palm of her hand again. Everything was so clear! Not that I need people at my beck and call, but this is a good feeling.

Alas, those seven-or-so hours of clairvoyant, knowing thought were all she got, for -- when she walked into Canterlot High and marched toward the principal's office ... an arm snaked around her neck and yanked her to one side. Gilda grabbed her and flashed a fake smile.

"Sunny! Just who I was waiting for!" Yuck, Sunset instantly furrowed her brow at the wannabe warrior's scent of pine. Not that pine was an awful smell, it just didn't suit Gilda -- or maybe Gilda didn't suit the smell of pine. Sunset pushed the gold-eyed girl away but found herself surrounded anyway and being pushed away from Celestia's office. "You know, we really have been off on the wrong foot for too long; let's talk a bit -- bury the hatchet and all that."

Nothing Gilda said seemed sincere and Sunset tried to evacuate, but her efforts were in vain as a few people kept pushing her farther and farther from her goal. She considered yelling out, but who would hear her? Shit, there are too many people talking. What do I do? Uncertainty gripped again and Sunset was escorted to areas less and less populated.

After some distance she asked, "Where do you wanna talk? I'm right here, you know ... " Sunset tried to keep fear from her voice but knew she couldn't mask it all and -- without warning -- she was grabbed by her left wrist and yanked into an un-navigatable, stygian room.

Gilda offered nothing for a time until a lone light glowed through the small space and she stood near a chair just in front of the entrance. Sunset recognized the room well; it was the wannabe warrior's own club room years back. Of course, it was barely suitable to their purposes for training martial arts, so Sunset decided to put it to better use ... 'Better use'? You brought people here to terrorize and intimidate them ... Oh no ... Understanding dawned when the only door out closed and she pushed Sunset toward one corner -- where a sole chair waited.

"I'm going to be blunt with you, Sunset, I wanna leave here A.S.A.P. and I wanna know that we understand each other." I'm too late! I should've talked to Celestia yesterday, Thursday! Wait ... what was I doing yesterday. Another word repeated ... she didn't like it but it rang true. Stupid! I was being stupid!

Trying to stay calm, Sunset refused to sit and rolled her eyes -- saying, "Then speak, dammit, I don't have all day and I definitely don't wanna spend it with you."

"I will, just, please, sit." Again, Sunset refused. "Well, we'll see how long that lasts." Just tell me what you want, Gilda! I don't care how much you're enjoying this. Luckily, Gilda obliged the request without needing to hear it. Sitting, she clarified her desire. "I want you to show up at Sunday's ice skating pep talk. You know: the one your friends -- party girl and Farmer Jack -- have been helping with for a while?"

To this, Sunset scoffed, "You're really dumb if you think I'm going to do that. Why on Earth would I hurt my already poor standings with the Student Council? That's-

"Ridiculous, I know. What sane person would do something like that? That's why I'm -- well, Trixie and I -- are going to give you something for that kind of violation. Sure, the Council will slap you on the wrist, but it'll be worth it." Gilda's words, as always, grated throughout and within the walls.

"Hm," Sunset -- pretending to consider the proposal -- hummed, "The hell would you or Trixie possibly have that I could ever want?"

Silence hung over them for a moment before Gilda chuckled and elaborated; it was like she was trying not to give away some joke. "See, it's no secret that you're banned from just about everything beyond coming to school." An offhanded nod and hand wave came from Sunset to acknowledge this fact. Still, nothing enticed her to go against ... Octavia of all people. "Trixie's got it arranged that you can have that little petition waived. All you have to do is do this one thing we say."

Ambivalence constricted the narrow space. Sunset knew how this worked; you do one thing they say and suddenly you're under their thumb forever. Hence, the fiery-haired girl gave an honest laugh. "I think that's pretty rich. You actually think I care about being let into extracurricular activities? The school -- as you've enunciated so well -- hates me anyway."

Then it was Gilda's turn to laugh -- like she was well aware and waiting for this moment. "That's the beauty of today, Sunset, it doesn't matter what you care about. Well, that's not quite right." Springing to her feet, the girl cast her gold irises to stare up and down Sunset for a moment; it didn't fail to make Sunset wonder if she should prepare for a fight. Adrenaline kicked in as Gilda reached into a pocket, but died back as she revealed a yellow-cased smart phone. "We happened to notice that you've been hanging around those girls a lot recently ... " You're kidding. " ... and if you'd like them to stay well, you'll listen to reason."

When the gravity of her situation registered to Sunset ... she couldn't take it; she fell into the provided chair like a bottle which a sleeping alcoholic couldn't maintain a grip on. Of course, Gilda snickered at the sight. Eye contact faded as Sunset tried to ascertain, "Them? What do you mean, 'them'? Rainbow's the only one-"

"Nah, I mean, Dewdrop walked right into us so she was easy, but we got the other two who aren't working on the ice skating crap; It just took some more doing last night." Gilda was amused as she watched the bemused Sunset open her mouth to try poking holes in her implications, but she didn't give much opportunity. "Before you ask 'how,' or, 'what about their families and people who care,' suffice it to say: we have more than you do, so be a good girl and listen. Understand?"

Sunset didn't care about reason, she needed to see whether or not Gilda was being serious. "Or what? Why should I believe that you have any of them? This could all be a prank you're using to get to me!" Like it was a premeditated statement, Gilda didn't miss a beat.

"Ah, see, you can go around school and ask about your little friends all you want; you'll find that the principal and faculty will say they've called in 'sick.' What you can't do is tell anyone about this ... little chat we're having. If you do ... " Gilda paused with a contemptuous look across her face. Sunset had seen such expressions before; they're almost desperate -- like the person behind them is willing to go to extremes to get what they want. Hell, Sunset had given that look more than once, but Gilda washed it away in a moment like it didn't happen before continuing, "Well, suffice it to say: disobey and we'll do something serious to those little friends. Get it? I mean, you know how this works; even if you've always been in my seat."

No! You can't ... that's ... that's ... "They're innocent! You can't use them like that!"

"Haha, but the Ever-Austere, Almighty Sunset can?" Hearing Trixie's imposed titles again, Sunset sprang up -- with some anger she didn't know she possessed -- and started waving a frantic finger at Gilda.

"YOU!" she shouted but lost her gusto when Gilda raised a finger to her device.

"All it takes is one phone call, Sunset."

Suddenly any fight she had was wrenched from her; her speech and face paled. " ... You ... That's ... you ... "

Author's Note

Ohayo gozaimasu!

Well, I was gonna say that writing this was starting to feel pretty hollow ... but it's flowing so what the heck, right? There is one thing up there where it's like, " ... she only effected ... " and -- I know -- affect is the verb, but I have this incessant feeling like I've seen effect like that in a very good read. Also, it just looks right. I don't know how to explain it.

Pleasant days and feedback, as always, is very much welcome!

13 ~ Time to Think

Clap! reverberated the sound of a hardcover copy of Old Roses and English Roses which Shimmer tried reading for all of ten minutes to no avail. Alas, each finished sentence saw her pausing and her attention wandering to thoughts of Sunset and the Canterlot company. Despite a few sent messages, the only replies she'd gotten in the passed day were from Applejack or Pinkie Pie, and they were mostly offhanded -- saying there was a project they were very busy with.

Friday morning was cold and cloudy; no sunlight would succeed in warming Earth -- according to a quick consultation of any weather application interconnected to the internet. Of course, things would only have been worse in Canterlot. Shimmer wondered how anyone could dare muster enough courage to brave temperatures of negative ten centigrade. Aerick's land was covered in a light frost and Shimmer (alone) stared into a resplendent, hand-laid-clay fireplace centered in a vast, rich library -- considering that she found their exterior environment (-6 C) abysmal.

A bright flame spewing three decimeters into a brick flue captivated her eyes while she pondered sometimes many things and sometimes nothing. Tending it for no other reason than that it was something to do, she watched dense cinders glow and explode as she poked at them with a thin fire iron.

Fire was an interesting phenomenon she'd only come to appreciate in recent months; if one gave it a few rough stabs, it would hiss at first, but it would also break down much slower and burn with less vigor if one didn't. Of course, one also needs let fires breathe -- leave them alone after construction with pathways for oxygen to travel. Otherwise, the fuel would collapse and smother the very thing attempted for attainment.

Hmm, balance between helping it along and giving it space. I should apply that to more in life. Speaking of ...

Shimmer took two large steps away from the fireplace after leaning the fire iron against it and fell into a long, green sofa which offered anyone resting a resplendent view of any fire or the many books surrounding. 8:11 was the time her phone portrayed. They're not in class yet; maybe I should try asking again?

With a scroll through her conversations, she noticed that she sent each of the Canterlot girls -- only two had replied -- a message save one. Sunset ... It'd be ironic if you were the one to explain this radio silence.

She saw no reason to lie to herself. She scares me. How would she react if I poked too much? A memory of the (so she hoped) last time she accidentally touched a stove top flashed through her mind; it burned and left a stinging mark for days. Of course, speaking to someone via text made things easier regarding not messing up, but Shimmer still worried that she would say something wrong and tick her counterpart off -- a thing she was ardent to avoid. Just one simple, kind-hearted text showing that you're concerned.

'Hey, did something happen? A couple of the girls seem to have just sort of ... disappeared. Are they okay?'

Despite her heart, which beat faster for some stupid reason almost every time she tried having even the simplest conversations (didn't help that she was talking to Sunset), she sent the message, tossed her phone on the couch, and stood to begin pacing around the large, hexagon-shaped library.

There, by one of the walls, she stopped before one of three wide, bay windows and stared unto a frosted landscape. Outside one could see withered apple, plum, and ... some trees Shimmer didn't remember the names of. Trying to occupy her mind, she pondered a couple of them -- certain that she was identifying the flora incorrectly; Pear? No ... Oh, cherry -- I think that one's a cherr- Wait a minute! Glancing up -- from just the right angle -- at the cloud-ridden sky revealed small, white particles lilting down. First snowfall of the season? Talk about a cold wave; I don't even think our low last night was below zero.

A low buzzing noise interrupted her observation of the outside world and she jumped, for some silly, nervous reason, barely off the ground. Guess Sunset's bored? I could imagine. Upon taking a deep breath, she stalked back to the couch to retrieve her device whilst trying to steady somewhat shaky hands. Just give me a clear, simple answer, Sunset. Nothing vague, don't write me off ... just explain what you know.

She got her wish.

'Hi, I think it will all turn out okay, but Rainbow and them are pretty much bed ridden so we probably have to postpone our next get together since they need rest. We can talk later. I have to turn off my phone to conserve power, I forgot to charge it.'

Reading the message over more than once, Shimmer found something off about it. Huh, it's almost like Octavia wrote this. I don't think Sunset's ever been so ... clear. I mean, she takes lingual shortcuts from time to time. Maybe she just likes to make things really clear when she texts? Shrugging, Shimmer ignored the scrutiny and typed out a quick acknowledgement.

'Ah, well, stay warm and healthy, yourself, and give them my best!'

'Thanks. I will.'

With that, the conversation was no more, and Shimmer stewed, I wonder if she's just making that last part up to avoid talking with me. I wouldn't be surprised. Before leaving the library via a grand, oak opening, she set up a tight-metal mesh designed to catch any wayward sparks from the fire so ... so the house wouldn't burn down. Three minutes later, she returned with a soot-blackened kettle and a label-less, white packet no larger than her palm. Soft, underlying crackling reached her ears after she removed the mesh and placed the kettle directly atop the coals; it was a crisp sound she found she rather liked.

There were other stoves and cooking surfaces in the home, but why use one of them when a labor-imparted, fuel-consuming inferno was a perfect fit for the simple task of boiling water? No reason, Shimmer decided whilst she retrieved her book about roses, returned to the sofa, and found herself able to focus on reading after the assurance Sunset gave.

Hiss! came the kettle's inevitable sound while she glossed over a particularly dull passage discussing the history of Asian-bred roses being imported to the west, and she tossed a crude (folded) notebook page into the book, threw it onto the sofa while standing, and removed her boiled water from its heat source.

Next, she wandered out of the library once more -- packet in hand -- into their dining room where little more than decorations and a dining table resided; the room was a mirror of the library, but there were fine-threaded, Victorian tapestries upon the walls rather than bookshelves. Left (for one exiting the library) was the descending staircase which led to the house's exit and Shimmer made a choice when she saw it. Hot chocolate outside? While it's terrible out there? What better way is there to have a hot drink?

At least that's what she thought, and she was right; once she'd torn open the packet, dumped its contents into a mug, and poured the kettle's hot water over it with a quick replacement of the fireplace's mesh, she tossed on her jacket to discover ... outside was awful -- at first, anyway.

During the initial two minutes, she flitted between going in and sticking to her choice, but she soon found herself adjusting to the drastic temperature change and enjoying the sensation of a hot cup between bare fingers -- warming her inside and out. Alas, it didn't last for very long; every sip of the hot, chocolatey deliciousness meant the drink was being drained, and -- when it was empty -- a bitter wind replaced its warmth.

Of course, watching snow fall and withered -- save evergreens -- trees swaying in that wind was relaxing, yet Shimmer didn't have anything to do outside and hence wasn't about to stand there and freeze.

Little solace, though, was found inside, for all that was to be accomplished there was returning the kettle, her mug, and book to their designated locations. Passing the library and a pair of stairs leading to the house's third story, Shimmer banked right -- down to the end of a vapid hall.

Its final door on the left was her's, and she stepped inside with a sigh.

This wasn't the first time she'd felt an ostentatious sensation of boredom; more or less her entire life was wrought with it, so she'd always been looking for new hobbies -- anything to catch that feeling of immersion and excitement in what one was doing. Despite her incessant seeking, she never found that feeling for long.

Not even nine ... she groaned to herself, rolled into her bed -- under red-and-purple covers -- and squeezed her eyes closed. Sleep came for all of half an hour before restlessness returned.

"Ugh," she exhaled and bolted up to note nothing of interest. Her room was plain and dull. Very reflective of how I feel ninety percent of the time ... One window, with its curtains drawn, sat between her bed and a bare, wood desk, there was a vanity (with a mirror way taller than she needed) beyond it in the corner, a closet door was situated to its left, and ... That was it. There was nothing else but a vent for hot air. Sure, she had boxes of many crafts she'd indulged over the years, but they were elsewhere -- collecting dust as if they didn't really matter to her (they didn't) -- and a question she hated thinking popped into her head.

What do I do? Standing, she scanned the walls and dropped her gaze to her desk. Hmm, she sat before the surface and began throwing open drawers to find binders, loose papers, and notebooks of all sizes. Taking a pencil in hand, she started doodling.

Hence, after finishing a convoluted series of squiggles and figure eights, she glanced to her walls.

Inspiration struck. Aha! Each wall was of bland, uncolored wood and, while the thought of painting them had daunted her for weeks, she smiled and decided, What else would I be doing with my time? Thenceforth she began a series of small tasks; abandoning her room to seek painting supplies which were oddly located in a closet on the bottom floor rather than Aerick's workshop, choosing colors, and sketching designs wherever she could find space ... It proved to be work but it was something.

Later, her room dripped different hues of pink, purple, orange, red, and yellow in an intense display of expression. Her floor was covered in scraps of paper which would stick to each other -- possibly spots on the floor or walls where she got sloppy -- and her furniture was all hauled closer to the chamber's center.

Every now and again she had taken breaks but, upon slumping onto her bed with a myriad of colors dotting her hands and points on her clothes, she ultimately looked around to see not a segment of the old, plain wood's natural hue. Fatigue of a strange strain -- like she was tired but still felt restless -- overtook while she admired her work and found herself pleased as punch.

Now it just has to dry and I can move everything back where it belongs! Shimmer smiled to herself before sprawling over her bed, stretching, and reaching for her phone. Having not checked it in some time, she expected surprise.

She got her expectation; it was just not how she wanted to be surprised.

11:42! You have to be kidding! No way that only took me, like, three hours ... Augh! Now what? Fortunately, her stomach answered her with a growl, and she held back from stomping in frustration as she made her way to their humble kitchen.

Well, 'humble' wasn't a good description. Sure, it had basic amenities; a few stoves, pots, pans, a large sink, and plenty of space to work. Hell, it had enough space and counter real estate for three or four chefs to work at a break-neck pace and never run into each other, but it still had a modest atmosphere about it. Aerick certainly liked it; though, one might imagine, anybody who practically built the whole thing would.

Running her finger over a polished countertop which snaked around the room in a near-horseshoe shape, Shimmer wondered, Did that guy cut this granite himself? I'll have to ask him sometime. God he's a workaholic.

Any sane person would've loved having such a cooking environment.

Shimmer guessed she, considering that, wasn't sane, for each time she entered the kitchen ... there was this over-bearing sense of grandeur -- beautiful, practical, and the embodiment of godliness entwined with cleanliness. However, even so, she always felt so lonely in it. Still wonder why.

Gurr, rumbled her stomach -- thus commanding she file away the curiosity -- and she prepared a simple lunch which mocked the kitchen's immaculate cutlery, appliances, and general, professional feel: eggs, beans, and a side of lacto-fermented greens. Salt and pepper were added, Shimmer ate slowly to make time pass, dishes were cleaned, and she wandered back into her room to sit again and stare at her still-wet walls.

Seconds became a minute, a minute became ten ... Shimmer realized, I am literally watching paint dry right now, and started pacing to consider that same, trying-to-be-omnipresent question: What do I do?

Ultimately she decided to move things from and paint her desk. Not that it was bland or ugly (lacquered, polyurethane-shining maple. If that was ugly to her, then she definitely had a screw loose upstairs), but the task of painting had been enjoyable and the squiggly designs felt fun under her wrist.

... When she finished, she moved everything from her vanity (including what she moved from her desk on to the vanity) onto her bed and started re-painting it ...

All this time to think about how I want things, next to no obligations ... tools and resources all around-

Suddenly, she interrupted her own thought with another one which finally let her put two and two together.

Now I get why Aerick's always thinking about or working on some project or another ... 20 years of this ... It's no wonder he built so much! He just spends his time thinking about things that interest him and then he does a little bit at a time! Those bits, no matter how small they seem, like every paint stroke, definitely add up. For as boring as things have been, guess I can't say I don't enjoy the freedom to explore ... myself?

"Hmpf!" she dropped her paintbrush on a red-and-orange spiral. Dammit! Now I'm thinking about Sunset again ...

Author's Note

So, I didn't really know how to write this, so I just ... sort of ... wrote it? Because that makes sense. Anyway, on the subject of depicted text messages: I dunno how I wanna do them and that's why they look different from chapter to chapter. I'm debating doing different colors, maybe putting them in coding tags (like this: <>), I just don't know.

Regarding the little mention of how Octavia talks: I'm positive there's a chapter or two where she uses a contraction or something, but know: that's not how Octavia's supposed to be; she's very formal and scoffs at the idea of 'lingual shortcuts.' Sunset's a little old fashioned too, but she's observed the common tongue of the modern era long enough to not mind a shortcut or two. If you see such an instance (referencing Octavia): know that it's a continuity error I intend to ... one day ... fix.

Last, on fireplaces and libraries. On paper, that sounds like a moronic idea. And -- on paper -- that is a moronic idea. However, experimentally, I have never seen a library I liked that didn't have a fireplace somewhere. Who doesn't wanna curl up on a cold day with a book nearby a fire -- in a fancy-as-fuck library? Well, I do ... Just ... learn how to pay attention to fires you start. Inside and out. No matter what. And keep water pails around. Period. Don't be dumb and burn your house down ... or the woods.

Pleasant eve'in's and enjoy yer readin's!

14 ~ Doctor, Your Order?

Sunset tried -- she tried so so hard -- to maintain some composure, but what she was hearing just decimated, and scattered, any senses of strength or power she possessed prior and she couldn't help shaking.

"Y-y-you can't do that!" Gilda's lips quirked and she brought a palm to her cheek at Sunset's declaration. "That's ... T-that's extortion!" With this, Sunset started pacing uncontrollably throughout the small room. Actually, it was smaller than she remembered and ... Is it getting smaller? How can anyone breathe in here? "That's just low. That's too low. Even for you! W-what, did you j-just wake up one day and say, 'who needs morality'?"

Curling her lips into a frown, Gilda stood as well and exclaimed, "You have no right to lecture me on morality! And, oh yes, when the idea first came to me, I thought, 'that's terrible,' but then I thought about it a little more and realized, 'what better irony could there be?'"

Grating, as usual, was Gilda's egregious tone. Sweat beaded on Sunset's forehead and her lip quivered once.

This frailty was not lost on the gold-eyed girl, so she continued with a lower and lower tone, "Here's how this is going to work, Sunny: you're going to walk out of this room and go about your day like nothing's different." She stepped closer to Sunset -- encouraging and relishing in greater disarray. "You're going to hand me your phone -- so I know you're not trying anything stupid -- and, when the day ends, you're going to look me and Trixie right in the eyes to say the following: 'I comply, I'll-"

Interrupting her demands, Sunset's phone buzzed. Silence took over.

"Well, aren't you going to check that?" Gilda asked after a time. "Who is it?" Sunset's orange-cased phone was out in seconds, but Gilda didn't like that it was facing away. "Sunny," she started while holding up her own phone. "Don't just explain; show me."

I h-have no ch-choice here! Sunset stammered in her own head, c-can't ... breathe! "It's Shimmer -- the other Sunset," she managed. I just wanna leave! "She wants to know what's happening with the others."

"Oh? Well you don't wanna worry her, do you? Go on, tell her that your friends are ill, but they'll be fine. It's not a lie, either, since you're a smart girl, aren't you? Go ahead. Tell her. Then hand it over." Sunset didn't need to make eye contact to feel Gilda staring -- threatening with all her muscles that she wouldn't tolerate disobedience. "Don't forget to let her know you've gotta turn off your phone today ... for some reason. I'm sure you'll think of something."

...

"See, Sunny, you're such a quick liar." Sunset wanted to scream. "Aw, she even wants you to stay well! Aren't you lucky to have such caring friends? Would be a real shame if something happened to them." Gilda held out her hand and curled her fingers a few times. "Now give it. I don't care if you actually turn it off or not."

After Sunset held a button on the phone's edge, and swiped the screen's top to deactivate it, she let Gilda snatch it. "Good girl," the criminal almost purred out and elicited a flinch by patting Sunset's head twice. "Now run along, you have 'til the end of today; I'm sure you'll come to the right decision." Sunset didn't need to be told twice; she made for the door like she was about to start a marathon, but Gilda called again -- stopping her.

"And Sunset?" The halted girl gulped. "We'll be watching."

Barging out the room, Sunset found Gilda's last statement not only ringing in her ears but that it was true; two students stood either side of the room's entrance -- eyes on Sunset before the door opened -- and a third (the same girl Sunset remembered pointing her out at the show) leaned against the wall directly across. Students littering and commuting the halls stared too. Each pair of eyes suffocated her in place of the cramped club room, but the worst was Gilda.

Gold irises framed wide saucers looming -- nay, judging -- from the heavens and Sunset quailed under their adjudication ... Despite moving away from them quickly as she could walk, she still felt their technology messing with her mind.

Escape! I need to escape! She failed to remain calm and wanted to walk right back out the front door, but such an act would be futile. If I run, who knows what Gilda might do ...

Stares, glowers, glared daggers did not relent their assault as she walked down the hall toward Celestia's office with her torso ahead of every placed foot; if someone wanted to trip her, she was offering the perfect opportunity. However, pallid Sunset found herself somehow managing, in spite of hyperventilation, padding to the office door and crashing her weight through it.

"Celestia-" she started but faltered. What are you thinking? What are you about to say? The sound of a clearing throat yanked her instinctive attention from Celestia's desk to the room's corner. There, twirling a pencil in one hand, holding a blue-cased phone in the other, leaned back like everything was normal, was Trixie -- frowning.

"What is it, Sunset?" hailed the principal's tone with a note of surprise.

Averting her eyes from the Lulamoon, Sunset faced Celestia and hushed her first thought, Something horrible is going on, which was something she'd rehearsed in her head not twenty minutes ago, and instead wrenched out, "I was ... just wondering ... Did my, uh, friends -- Rainbow, Rarity, and Fluttershy -- call in sick today? They never did answer me so I hoped you would."

Ba-thoom! The sound of something smacking against the school's floor captured the principal's attention for a moment. She shot Trixie a deep, flouncing frown.

"Sorry, sorry," the magician apologized, " ... just ... dropped my phone; my bad, it really is. I'm quite sorry."

Come on, I get it! Sunset refused to glance back to Trixie. Instead, she rapidly bounced one heel up and down in an impatient manner -- urging her question's answer. "Ahem," Celestia locked eyes with Sunset once more and replied, "Yes, they did not too long ago. Actually, they each sent an email saying they could hardly breathe let alone speak. I hope it's just this super cold weather being sudden and that they don't have some kind of flu. Are you going to check on them anytime soon?"

"Yeah I am. Tomorrow." Sunset let out fast to move on.

Celestia, alas, thus hindered that plan by adding extra questions; she asked, "Would you please give them my best when you do?" Not really calm, but afraid to show it, Sunset just hummed and turned to the door, yet the principal continued, "And Sunset? You look pretty pale yourself. Please let someone know if you feel ill?"

After a cough from Trixie, Sunset offered, "It must be the cold, cause I feel fine, but thank you. I will."

"One more thing Sunset." the principal foiled her speedy escape again.

"Mm?" came a 'please-let-me-go' grunt.

"It looks like I was right that day. You know, about a civil discussion between us?" You have to be kidding.

With a nervous, "Haha," Sunset hastened out, "You got me." Are you talking to Celestia or Trixie?

That said, Sunset left as quickly as she came in and only looked whence she came -- left, to one leaving the office -- for a moment before seeing Gilda leisurely walking ... as if she never stopped watching.

Hence she turned right and repeated thinking, I need to get out of here! Somewhere! Anywhere! I just need to get out of this for a while! Sanctuary was hidden from her though, for, no matter how much she looked, all that surrounded her were walls of irises and pupils; some looked down on her, others glared from beneath, a few gave her level, fuming lours ... all sank teeth into her being and bit away at her -- heart and soul.

Any one of them could've been working with Gilda and Trixie.

Clutching her right bicep with her opposing hand, she brought her right hand up to her temple and ... lowered her head -- trying to hide her face -- like she could disappear with that simple act. Please, she begged inside, stop looking at me! Just stop! Please ...

Sunset was on the verge of breaking down, and she knew it; she was about to start publicly crying, but she grit her teeth and bore with it regardless. Gilda's surveillance still cut through it all -- hammering nails into her back.

Just then, through the corner of her left, trembling eye, something gave her a second's reprieve; it was not who was doing it which relieved her -- absolutely not! -- rather than what they did. Alone, in the Scowling Seas, a pair of steely, stoic, staring purple eyes broke from the contact. A single fracture in the iris wall's defenses beckoned Sunset as the only hint of possible escape.

Please be alone! she plead while scrambling to the familiar, dark alcove where the eyes disappeared. Upon barreling down it and through a door, she saw nobody on the music room's lower level.

Quick! She spun behind her, slammed the entrance closed, and frantically looked toward the lock -- wondering which way to turn it. Does it matter? Before her trembling fingers came into contact with metal again, Octavia, walking upstairs in a relaxed, rhythmic cadence, called out, "Clockwise," as though she knew what Sunset needed ... again. Click came a gentle sound and Sunset stomped over to the well-known staircase. There, her legs became jelly and her knees went weak as she looked up the stairs.

However, she didn't ascend; rather she fell onto one stair, threw her elbows on her knees, began massaging either temple with her middle fingers, and breathed. She did not think ... just breathed. It took her two minutes before pensive awareness became easy. In and out. Just breathe, and calm down.

BANG! Gilda knocking on the music room's door caused her to bolt to her feet and almost run up to where Octavia just started sitting. Without thinking, Sunset joined her in a chair across and slouched her head onto the familiar table -- which sat with its chess board as if untouched for days. Another BANG! made her flinch and, to blot out the knocking, she covered her ears with either palm. Councilor Octavia just cocked a brow and turned her attention to a black book.

Seven knocks followed. Each sent a jolt down Sunset's spine, but, after a few seconds, they stopped.

Whilst she moved shaking hands from her ears to her eyes -- because she thought covering her own eyes would make her invisible to Octavia -- she heaved deep breaths for a time. Elapsing this time, Sunset only heard the councilor turn a couple pages, and she dared peaking through her fingers after the silence got strange.

Octavia paid her no attention. No glare? Hope fluttered Sunset's heart with this thought. Now I see! This is all a dream! I'm still dreaming! I'm gonna wake up anytime soon and freak out to myself in my room; none of this is actually happening! A smile twitched across her depressed face and she pinched her neck. Nothing happened; she was still there, so she pinched harder ... Nothing ... Again, she pinched ... Still nothing ... With her smile fading, panic returned and she smacked her face. "Oof! Ugh!" Sunset, still seeing the music room, brought a hand to her forehead, incised a breath between her lips, and held it for five seconds before sighing.

"Still think this is a dream?" Octavia tossed out while pinching a page. Sunset shook her sullen head in reply. "Well, do you feel better?" This, the near-panicked girl had something to vocalize about.

Hence, she whined, "N-no! I feel t-terri- no, aw- wait ... horrible! I'm terrified and I can't even say why!"

"You mean because those girls are extorting you?"

Sunset nodded before widening her eyes, smacking her knees, and feeling invisible weight fly off her shoulders as she confirmed, "You know?" Octavia shot her a look -- inciting an emendation. "R-right. Stupid question." What don't you know? Another stupid question hailed from her helpless mouth. "C-can't you ... do something?"

Octavia looked back to her book, flipped the page, and returned her gaze to Sunset with a stolid, "I could, but I refuse to stop them if that is your idea." Mysterious self interests, that's right.

"O-oh." Sunset deflated into her chair -- shoulders slumped.

"Why?" Octavia began while closing her book on her hand; she seemed to tilt her head in a forced, faux curiosity like she was feigning interest. "Not so much fun on the other end? Being treated like that?" This got Sunset's eyes to stare at their unfinished chess match.

"N-no! Of c-course ... I mean, I know that! I told you before: I understand now! I deserve every ounce of this malevolence, but my friends ... " When did we become actual friends come to think of it? "They don't deserve ... this. They don't deserve any of this! They're ... they're innocent! And now I'm about to bring them harm just by having been around them ... It's ... the worst!"

From who-could-say where, Sunset noticed an opportunity for her on the board. Duh! She interposed Octavia's check with her king's-side knight.

Octavia followed the sound, made by the knight being moved, to their game and hummed before tapping her foot. "So you saw it, huh." she muttered before castling on her queen's side -- thus giving her queen's rook access to a much wider file of influence. "Well, you could try hiding here all day, but that lock will budge eventually." Upon seeing Sunset's shocked reaction, she clarified, "Not because they would break in -- though they might -- but because I only have a free period for an hour or so."

At this, Sunset gave a dejected nod and pushed a pawn two spaces; doing this let her attack Octavia's bishop, which checked her before, from a spot protected by her knight. "I don't ... " she started while lowering her face into her palms. Then, words she never thought she'd say fell out of her mouth.

"I would rather stay in here with you -- distracting myself with this -- than face that again ... "

"Well, distraction will only do so-" Octavia cut herself off, slammed her book closed with a BOOSH! and sprang to her feet. "Are you joking?" Sunset's eyes popped out to meet Octavia's. She's ... ticked off by me? Why? "Are you actually going to start crying? In front of me no less?" Hearing this was a wake-up call, as Sunset noticed the liquid forming in her eyes.

Trying to wipe it away was fruitless, for it started falling involuntarily. She used her blurry, teary eyes to watch Octavia flounce her bishop over Sunset's pawn and instantly recaptured the square with her knight.

"That is the last thing you should be doing! Showing anyone! Especially me!" Infuriated, Octavia repositioned her queen and growled, "Did those girls really get to you that much? Hahaha, who am I even looking at?" Sunset never felt more humiliated ... even when the school was making her fear being buried alive.

Octavia, laughing at me? No no no. Please, wake up Sunset! At the very least, Sunset had the dignity to look at the councilor -- despite her state -- but her tears only got stronger and a lump formed in her throat.

It got worse, "Hahahaha, this is rich! You really are risible! Hilarious even! The Great Sunset Shimmer, who, not a month ago, was walking around -- shoulders rolled back, head high -- like she owned everything, is sitting in front of me bawling like a child!" Sunset fought to maintain eye contact and her face reddened until Octavia revealed a black-cased phone and wondered aloud, "Should I take a picture? Threaten to show it to the school if you step out of line?" Then Sunset's face paled and she hid her face in her hands again -- ignoring the contingency that her hands would get soaked.

"P-please ... Don't ... " she whimpered.

"'P-please ... '" Octavia repeated before tossing her phone passed Sunset with a thud. "I like black. Blackmail, though, is not my color, but what happened to you? Did Gilda drain the fluid holding up your spine or something? Did you become an invertebrate because of a few glares? Helpless vulnerability is not just not your color; it defies everything you are! I never thought I would see you look so ... so ugly!"

Silence conquered again; Sunset continued slouching with her hands over her leaking eyes in its reign.

One moment later, Octavia kicked Sunset's ankle. "Stand up," she demanded. Sunset refused. Another kick and a more sour tone accompanied her repeated, "Stand. Up." The councilor's face twisted in abhorrence. "Stand up like a person, right now, or I will march down there and let Gilda in here!" she hissed.

This caught Sunset's attention, and she shakily rose -- still staring down into her palms. Growling again, Octavia defined herself since Sunset apparently failed to comprehend. "I said, 'like a person,' Sunset. That means your head should be raised about 90 degrees ... Look at me." An irritated expression acted as the medium for another of the councilor's growls. However, this time, she wasn't waiting for compliance. "For fuck's sake, look at me Sunset!"

"Ah!" Sunset yelped when Octavia yanked her arms, by either wrist, away from her sobbing eyes.

"Yuck," the councilor grimaced at the feeling of tears touching her hands and shook Sunset dizzy before stepping right next to her so their noses almost touched. "You are better than this, Sunset. You can handle some torment. If you could not, you never would have made it so far as you did, so stop crying and moping around already! It's disgraceful, disingenuous ... disgusting ..."

With this, Octavia jostled Sunset a few more times, wiped her hands on the sobbing girl's jacket, and gave a strong push -- knocking Sunset off balance and introducing her rear to the floor.

Sunset inhaled again and again -- slowly calming down -- and stared up to see Octavia, with a furrowed brow and crossed arms, ask, "Well, are you going to stay down?" She's right. I hate to admit it, but she's wholly right. I didn't ... know it felt this bad, like you couldn't do anything but wallow when someone treats you like this. Like that person is gonna strangle you at any moment, but I can handle it. Frantic hands wiped away as she stood until her tears were no more.

"I'm ... sorry you had to see that." she offered while stretching the top of her head toward the ceiling.

"Me, too." came Octavia's flat response. Sitting down, she motioned to their chess game and asked, only a little irritation in her voice, "Now, are you going to let me checkmate you, or are you going to run?" Sunset was back in her chair without missing a beat.

Not long after, Octavia moved her queen to take Sunset's queen-side rook and attacked her queen under the protection of a remaining bishop. The fiery-haired girl prepared to make a move which seemed obvious to her, but paused when her opponent held out a cotton handkerchief made for cleaning instruments. "What's this?" she inquired with a quirked brow.

"Your face is going to stain if you fail to clean it properly; you must not show Gilda this weakness."

"Oh, thanks." Wait a minute, Sunset came to a crashing realization upon accepting the handkerchief and grabbing her queen to make her move. "What do you want? That's two, three favors, now?" Octavia's face fell under the spell of a mythic being -- turning stony.

"She catches on. I refuse beating around the bush, so listen closely." Sunset clutched her queen and swallowed. Here we go. "First, I want you to come play chess with me twice a week." Apparently Octavia noticed a 'what the hell' written on Sunset's face, for she elaborated, "You would be surprised at how few chess club members show any promise, and how few people play this game here period."

Acknowledging, Sunset let out an, "Ah," and returned her expression to an idle one.

"Second, I want you take my advice regarding Trixie and Gilda." Sunset was skeptical just like that, but used her queen to capture one of Octavia's pawns with a hum -- urging her forward.

However, before the councilor could continue, she had to honor the age old tradition and call, "Check."

Again silence governed. When it became strange, Sunset looked at Octavia, who had been glaring at the board, and asked, "Something wrong?"

" ... "

"No. Nothing 'wrong' I would say. Just ... I had not noticed that possibility." For what seemed like minutes, purple eyes narrowed at the chess pieces and blinked and blinked ... until she finally moved her king behind a pawn to keep it safe. Yes, that's a rook! Sunset cheered to herself and proudly captured the piece; only to receive a relieved sigh from Octavia. "There we go. Checkmate." Huh?

Sunset scanned the board over and over. She looked to each square surrounding her king by one space. Can't move there. Not there ... or there. Can't block the check. Can't kill the queen checking me. You must be kidding!

Councilor counseling became a bitter backdrop for her internal fury over losing. "Anyway, second, I want you to take my advice ... " Humming to indicate she was listening, Sunset suppressed her brooding. "Gilda and Trixie using you ... While I could not say I condone their methods, they tip their hands and offer greater help to us than you might think. For instance, now you and your friends can have a much stricter sense of security; it will be easy to compartmentalize friend from foe."

Hmm, Sunset thought and asked a question she wanted to understand quite some time ago: "Doesn't what they want kind of ... contradict your interests? I mean, the last thing you wrote on that petition ... "

"Oh, I think that problem is less prevalent than you might think. That petition is hindering me more than helping anyway." Octavia began with narrowing eyes and gave an offhanded explanation. "The Council has been busier thinking about reprimanding you than accelerating our schedule."

"You mean your schedule."

" ... " No denial.

"I did not foresee having to persuade you farther from interfering with Council affairs, but here-" She retrieved and presented her green thermos. "I have yet to have any myself today, but I imagine this will keep your sanity in check today more than mine. Of course, I expect this and my handkerchief back -- washed -- and, in return, you will continue avoiding the Council. Deal?"

A fraction of a second passed before Sunset grabbed the container and accepted, "I tire of Councilors anyway."

"Backwards. Councilors tire of you." Octavia retorted before offering one last insert. "Now do leave. I only have so much time here left to work and, while I would love to ignore it and start crushing you in another match ... " Sunset frowned with half her face. "I do want to get things done, so shoo."

Fine. Sunset jammed Octavia's thermos and handkerchief into her bag -- to avoid drawing attention to them upon leaving -- and stood straight with a new steadiness about her.

"However," Sunset gladly stopped when the councilor continued, "I promise that, if you make a convincing performance -- not that that should be hard considering how you just humiliated yourself to me -- to Gilda and Trixie, they will advance ... thus tipping their hands even more. Let them feel like they are winning land." Humming, the still girl considered these words. Don't you dare bring up that chess game. "See, Trixie thinks a bit like you; someone attacks, you attack back, trying to chink and chink at the armor 'til you find a weak point, but -- if one of you finds a weak point -- you try to press and press. This is a weakness, for you can anticipate your enemy. Give her ground but, really, just let her walk deeper into your territory, and close in around her on either side when she inevitably ignores something important. Like what I did to you with my bishop and pawn line." Damn you to the deepest pit. Down to the Earth's center.

Unlocking and yanking the music room door open yielded ... Gilda. Who would've thought? "Sunny!" she greeted with a cheery, too-stretched-to-be-true smile. "You're lucky I was gonna give you until the end of my free period before I did anything ... drastic!" Before, I felt bad for anyone who didn't get a free first period, but now I just feel bad for anyone who shares it with you.

"Yeah, lucky me." Sunset spat and pushed passed Gilda who, of course, followed right behind.

"What happened? I got worried; thought you might be freaking out." Sarcasm trickled between each of her words and Sunset -- thinking of an insult -- wheeled around to face a hated face. Well, I was, but I don't think that's your business. Now is it?

Gesturing to Gilda's face with a hand, she leaned in and whispered, "I don't know if you own a mirror, but I bet it would freak out and break given that brutish face. I'm a little more shatterproof than any reflective material unlucky enough to meet you."

This elicited a grunt, but Gilda's face reclaimed a smile and she chuckled out, "Can't say I've needed a mirror to look this good but ... We'll see how much more is a little."

Each of them discovered, throughout the next 50 minutes, that 'a little' lasted at least that long. Sure, the Scowling Seas were dismal for Sunset, but she navigated their waves from a taller mast than before, avoiding larger ones where made sense, and found herself docked in the school's library -- a large, glass dome acted as its rotunda-like ceiling. Of course, Gilda's nerve-wracking, looming stare sailed with her right to a desk; the gold-eyed girl even flipped through a few books, but ceased to continue prodding Sunset.

"Tell me: what's so interesting to you about chemistry that you picked the biggest encyclopedias about it?"

Sunset's eyes narrowed as she glanced away from the book -- ignoring the desire to punch something. "I'm not sure what you think you're implying but, if you must know: I'm curious about making chlorine trifluoride. Apparently it will melt through concrete and, I figure, I might as well raze your whole house when I get to it."

Gilda's face said, 'chlorine say what now,' when Sunset delivered the chemical name like it was a slurred note, but she hummed and vocalized, "I'm positive you know what I am implying," before adding, "Arson suits you -- hair and all."

"Also," Sunset made an addition to her own statement -- even though she was just about to return to the book -- at this, "The bigger books have the more dull passages. See, I would rather break my back mixing clay for three days than converse with you, so why don't you put a sock in it and waste your time watching me do nothing?" Upon returning her nose the pages, Gilda flicked a crumpled up, torn piece of paper at Sunset's forehead. She ignored it.

"Hahaha, Sunny, the day's only just started!"

Initially Mrs. Meyer's English class felt like a reprieve from Gilda's shenanigans, but Sunset soon discovered that the Scowling Seas' waves crashed against these shores as well. Students turned almost every time the teacher did and Sunset was more engrossed in schoolwork than she'd ever been.

... Can't spitballs be enough? Please stop looking at me ...

When Sunset started getting uneasy, she straightened her back and recited, You can handle some torment, but her feet still tapped and she still rubbed her hands together.

A few kids waved their phones at Sunset in conjunction with obnoxious, shit-faced, and rude features or hand gestures. "I get it," she mouthed more than once but no one seemed to care. Closer to the class's end, some of her peers texted something but Sunset forgot about it, for the teacher began reading a long passage and more than half the people in front of her turned around.

You can handle ... Sunset swallowed and shuffled in her seat. You can ...

Ding! She was put at ease by the dismissal bell. However, that ease lasted until she walked out of class. "Sunny!" a loathed voice called and a loathed arm wrapped around Sunset's neck. I hate that name! Stop calling me that! Sunset wanted to shout, but knew better than to give more ammo.

"I am going to break this arm and these damn fingers if you keep touching me like this."

Gilda only started physically poking her and gasped, "'Owww! The Malicious Sunset is bullying me again!' is something I've been dying to call since the rally. Come on, do something. Do something!"

Stoicism forced outward, Sunset fumed -- well beyond irritated -- inside, God dammit! You stupid, lumbering jackass! If we were alone I would kick the shit out of you again. Alas, they were not alone and, despite how much she wanted to, assaulting Gilda in even a small way publicly was definitely stupid.

Liberating Sunset from her bully was her next class's door; it only saved her for just over an hour.

This time, at least, she was prepared and ducked under Gilda's attempted grapple before jogging to make distance. "I swear I will scream your head off if you do that again!" she growled.

Gilda picked at this empty threat. "What's that gonna do? Hmm, oh, I know: 'Christ!' I would pretend to cry a little, 'Sunset's- hic- c-cussing me out ... a-again! ' is what I would say." Without any sound argument, Sunset grumbled as Gilda yanked her into an arm link; her fruitless, poorly-suppressed, angry attempts at resistance amused the wannabe warrior -- who patted the top of Sunset's head twice again. "Just be a good girl and walk with me. We're all friends here. See?"

"We are not, have not been, and never shall be, friends ... You fuck-" Gilda cleared her throat when Sunset's voice raised a bit -- like she was getting ready for a performance.

On her face, Sunset wrung her lips into anger, but inside she was begging on loop, Let me go. Let me go ... Please ... Just let ... Me ... Go-ho-hoo ... AUGH! Keeping to her desire, she tried to move toward her next class fast, but Gilda had none of it. "Ouch!" she yelped when the gold-eyed bully elbowed her side and tugged her closer.

"Walk. Slower." Gilda commanded, the Scowling Seas were taken by snickering storms as some students suppressed various laughs, and, of course, some didn't bother reigning themselves in.

You can handle some torment ... "Gilda's plaything? Perfect ending for her." someone muttered.

Sunset wanted to cry again. Though, more than anything, she just wanted to be let go. Mustering some degree of rigidity, she grumbled, "How are you even showing up before I can get out of class? Are you skipping an entire day just to ... parade me around?" This got a snorted, blood-boiling chuckle.

"Simple thing really." Gilda refused, though, to define. "Not like I'd tell you though; that would be dumb."

" ... " I hate you, Sunset realized she didn't have to silence this thought, so she strung together a jab. "You know, Gilda, you're starting to grow on me."

Gasping, the wannabe warrior fawned, "Really? Oh, Sunny, you're coming to your senses!"

"Yeah, it just hit me. You're really growing ... into someone -- somehow -- more detestable with every step or breath you steal from the rest of us." every word Sunset doled out with unconstrained anger.

Gilda added a bashful bass to her teasing, "Oh, Sunny Bunches, please!" That's even worse ... "Not in public! I get that, in some cultures, aggression is a display of unbridled affection, but isn't walking together enough for now?" I am going to break your face.

"You know," Sunset rebutted, "In some cultures -- the ones that make sense -- aggression is a display of unbridled, fervent, 'I'm-going-to-drag-a-knife-across-your-throat-while-you-sleep' rage."

Finally, Gilda's turpentine scent departed with another class, and Sunset found herself begging not to have to rejoin the gold-eyed bully. Much to her, peaking around the corner, delight, when the bell for lunch rang there was no sign of the girl. Time to go, she knew as she beelined for the cafeteria. Alas, a shuffling pair of feet and a fist grasping her flowing hair devastated her hopes. "Ouch!" she yelped, only a decameter from the doors of (hopefully) safety.

"Phew," that irritating, maddening tone called as Gilda pulled her into another half hug, "Little late that time. My friends and I have really been looking forward to lunch with you!" No. No ... NO!

Sunset was about to scream anything. Consequences be damned! Although she was ready to shout incoherence to express her seething frustration, a bundle of blonde and one of pink caught her eyes and presented an outlet for her anger.

"APPLEJACK!" she cried with all her might; it startled the farm girl, but Gilda pulled away as the called blonde whirled around. Sweet freedom! Sunset felt like she was flying to the side of someone she -- just last week -- would've loathed seeing.

"What is it? What're ye screamin' about?"

My worst enemy, the old 'running to someone who would get you in trouble if they knew you were bullying someone else,' just became my best friend. "It's uhm ... " Sunset began but heard a grunt as Gilda -- not far behind -- leaned against a locker, and chose to loudly state, "Well, see, I just wanted to tell you and Pinkie that Rainbow and the others are starting to feel a lot better! We should get everyone together tomorrow!"

"Really?" Pinkie yelled also, "How'd you know?" Never have I once thought I'd be happy to hear you shout.

"Well, I asked the principal just a bit ago; she got an email!" came another, gross lie. "Come on, come on, let's go sit and talk all about it!"

Applejack pushed the air in front of Sunset back a bit and said, "Okay, okay, just hold yer horses; we just have to put up a couple more of these fliers and we'll be right behind ye." Sunset leaned next to the bulletin board they worked at.

"That's okay. I can wait!" she nearly breathed out liberty and gratitude before glancing away from them, to a locker-ridden wall where Gilda stared -- waving her phone back and forth. After raising her left middle finger, Sunset mouthed, "I fucking get it. I'm not an idiot."

Her finger stayed raised while Gilda tilted her head back and forth in skepticism.

When the trio sat at a lunch table where at least five often sat, Sunset was entirely aware of gold irises boring into her from another table not far off. "Well, that's a fine thing to hear," Applejack commented but was far from Sunset's main focus, so she barely gave an offhanded acknowledgement. "I didn't even know poor Rarity and Fluttershy came down with it 'til an hour or two ago."

"Me neither," Gilda's glower was a blacksmith's hammer flattening steel centimeter by centimeter. You can handle some torment. Upon remembering this again, Sunset reached into her bag and retrieved Octavia's thermos with distasteful muscle tremors.

Heat surprised her when she took a sip. Gah! That's a damn fine thermos ...

Sunset was wrought from her thoughts by Applejack continuing to talk to her. "Uh, Sunset? Yer sure you ain't feelin' sick?" No, I feel terrible. Today sucks ... I can't say that.

As it turned out, 'a little,' more shatterproof was starting to be a lot more defined, and Sunset strained for a lie she really didn't wish to give. "No I ... am fine! Just fine!" she continued talking loudly to ensure anyone eavesdropping could pick apart her conversation. "All these eyes on me! Who would say things were going sour? Do they bother you?"

With this, the blonde's mouth formed an understanding, 'O,' and replied, "Shucks, Sunset, They ain't lookin' at me. I don't think I could handle all that attention if they were, though. You sure're keepin' yerself together."

"Thanks!" Sunset did not resist the urge to shout while trying to steadily pour coffee. Keep my sanity in check.

Pinkie shared a glance with Applejack before the farmer asked, "Uh, listen Shuggy, I can't blame ye fer bein' a little upset." A LITTLE? I'm about ready to charge through a damn window! "But, we're right here." Muttering nothing intelligible, Sunset didn't say anything else. Instead, she drummed her fingers on their table and stared into her coffee.

"Aren't you gonna, you know, eat something?" Pinkie chimed in.

Upon, after crossing her arms across her chest, leaning back, Sunset exclaimed, "I don't have time to eat. I'm in the middle of a battle of wills!" A couple snickers graced her ears but she continued trying to boil her coffee with her eyes. Who cares how crazy that sounds? It has to be a 'convincing performance' after all.

"Isn't that what lunchtime's for? So we have time to eat?" Sunset grumbled more incoherence. "Oookay, Sunnysideup." This remark from Pinkie dragged the brooding girl's attention from her drink.

"What did you just call me?"

Rage wasn't directed at Pinkie, but it looked like it enough for the pink-haired girl to recognize when a nickname was undesired. "Sunset. I said 'Sunset.'"

"Uh huh." Slowly, a tender touch found her shoulder, thus directing her to a concerned-faced Applejack.

Huffing, the farmer asked, "Sunset, are you sure there's ... nothin' else?" Of course there's something else! Don't you think I would've told you if I could! Wait ... would I? Sunset thought about her track record of honesty regarding just about everything and came to a decisive conclusion in seconds. Probably not. However, another idea came to her; this would both let her vent a little and hopefully make Gilda's life a little harder.

"Actually ... there is something!" she yelled -- hoping Gilda could hear directly. "See, I have this thing I want to talk to you about, but I can't put it into words! Would you walk with me to my next class?"

"Uh, sure just ... can ye talk a little lower?" Sunset's eye twitched, she tilted her head, nodded, and stretched a fraudulent grin. Lunch ended with a gleeful note, eyes were still locked to Sunset, but a sense of breathing room which seemed absent all day pervaded her step.

Intermittently during the walk, Applejack questioned whatever it was Sunset wanted to tell her, but the bullied girl just hushed her and urged them onward. Alas, when they sadly reached the classroom, Sunset had to give Applejack next to nothing; at least she could speak at a more normal volume for the girl -- considering Gilda was practically right behind her with a deep frown.

"Sorry to keep you in the dark, Applejack, but I'll explain things one day; and, one day, you'll understand why I so rudely dragged you here." Surprise! Applejack was not satisfied with this explanation, yet Sunset stomped into the class regardless.

Coursework was then done with a much more chipper attitude. That felt good. Gilda's face ...

Laughing to herself only lasted until the class ended, for Gilda's lour was less ... enjoyable from a dangerous distance. "You unfaithful bitch!" Sunset's rib gave a little tink when the gold-eyed bully elbowed it this time, and a bruise was likely to form after she twisted her victim's arm. "I'm the only light-haired person you have or ever will look good on!"

Although recovering from pain was Sunset's first reaction, she eventually yanked back on Gilda's arm, stared into her oh-so-punch-able face, and -- with an exaggerated, 'please-get-away-from-me-and-drop-dead' eye roll -- retorted, "I've always had this pernicious fetish to break the abusive ones' hearts."

Despite her day's long and vexing quality, nothing made Sunset feel better than when Mr. Powers placed a quiz on her desk referencing problems and ideas she didn't understand. "See," the teacher explained when she inquired as to what was before her, "We've been working on Lagrange point calculations and other orbital mechanical mathematics for the last couple days. This is a quick quiz to help cement the idea; you would remember if you were paying any attention during that time."

Well -- for as dumb as she probably looked in that moment -- she was ecstatic to take the quiz, 90 percent unanswered, to Nential-san's desk, return to her seat, and look around at everyone else who still had their faces buried in arithmetic. Nice to be the one staring rather than stared at for a change.

Mr. Powers, of course, raised his brow more than once at the beaming girl and called her after class.

"Sunset," he offered, "you can make this up next Friday if you'd like, okay?"

"Sure," she dismissed, "Let's talk about it next week. I just wanna go home, okay?" Thank you, she thought with a hint of jollity as she walked out his door into Gilda's waiting, pompous arms. Of course, she suppressed her delight at the thought of the day's end and let the bully drag her right to Trixie. Arriving, she chose to look at the ground at first -- knowing that was against their demands -- and sigh out, "Alright, I'll go to the stupid ice-skating thing."

Gilda sounded like she was melting at the sight and Trixie couldn't, or didn't care to, restrain her laughter. "Sunny, I think you forgot: I want you to look at us when you comply."

Dammit, Sunset found herself twiddling her fingers -- not intentionally -- before inching her head to meet two annoying faces: Trixie leaned against the wall on one side of the door, a hand failing to cover a profuse smile, and Gilda leaned against the other with a quirked brow and a grating giggle gestating Sunset's desire to smack her scathing, brutish face.

Submitting to their inconveniencing, Sunset rolled her eyes between the two and acted like she was talking to a foreigner. "I ... comply," Apparently Gilda really wanted her to say 'comply.' "I'll. Go. To. The. Ice. Skating. Shit."

Either one of them were silent for a moment, like they were debating whether or not they were satisfied, so Sunset urged the interaction to an end. "So, can I have my phone back now? I'm expecting to hear ... tonight ... that my friends are safe and sound."

"Eh, yeah, yeah," Gilda tossed out as she held Sunset's device -- waving it in the air. "Feel free not to go if you don't hear from them. I'll keep my word as long as you keep yours. Honor among thieves and all."

Sunset reached for her phone but Gilda dropped it ... They shared a glare, yet Sunset was smart enough not to lean down and pick it up. Instead, she opened the school's side door, kicked her phone outside into frigid wastes, and went storming out. Alas, Gilda stopped her by grabbing her waist either side, leaning too close for comfort, and whispering, "I'll see you Sunday, Sunny Buns."

These words sent a chill down Sunset's spine, but she nonetheless smacked Gilda's hands and stomped through the door. Before it closed, she heard Trixie snicker, "Good job." Not that it wasn't the tactical goal, making them feel like they were winning, but that didn't mean Sunset liked it.

"Ugh," she groaned out as she retrieved her phone and headed home. God! it's f-freezing out here!

...

Getting there saw her sniffling, tears streaming, and muscles spasming -- both from cold and stress -- against her door for ten minutes. Next, anger set in and she paced from point to point -- muttering angry gibberish at nothing. Sure enough, when she messaged Rainbow dash -- asking her to call A.S.A.P. -- someone dialed her.

"Sunset?" The athlete's voice was tired, frail, unlike her own. "Do you wanna explain what's going on? I'm hardly near home and I feel god awful." That damn ... That damn knave! I said I'd do what she wanted! Why'd she hurt you anyway? Isn't that ... wrong somehow?"

"T-tomorrow," despondent, Sunset shakily responded, "I'll explain at SSC tomorrow." She bit back more tears.

Without waiting for a goodbye or acknowledgement of any sort, Sunset ended the call, tossed her phone on her bed, and loomed over her desk. You are better than this, she remembered and set Octavia's thermos on the surface. For a few moments, she rummaged through things and scribbled on paper various things the councilor (turned counselor) said. Large, Copic markers were used to detail her favorite phrase: "You can handle some torment." Reading the words not only gave her courage, but an idea.

Ten times the phrase was repeated before she entered her bathroom and stared at herself. She wasn't pretty; her face was stained by tears, her jacket was scratched, and her eyes were stolid.

Worst of all, her form was sickening.

Every curl of hair, every curve, every feature made her feel like hurling, but she persisted staring. If you can't be honest with yourself, you'll never know left from right. "Hey," she began with an irate tone. "You are Sunset Shimmer. You've done some terrible things to people ... but there's more to life than the past. Everything you've done -- every mistake -- you know that's a stepping stone." Her stomach dropped like she ate or drank too much, but she had to know that she could look at herself. "Start telling the truth. Start thinking about others more. Start-"

Puke welling, and ultimately spewing, wrenched her from the reflection to a wastebasket for three minutes; hence, she wandered away from the reflection -- not daring to look again -- to collapse on her bed. After sitting for a moment, she remembered something she found while cleaning.

Beneath her bed was medium-sized, cardboard box full of photos -- collecting dust as she'd been too ... distraught to address it. Within were victory pictures ... On top, a picture of herself from Canterlot's 'Summer Soiree' situated itself; Sunset had a condescending, pompous, demanding smirk in it ... very reminiscent of Gilda's or Trixie's. She bore an insultingly 'look-at-me-I'm-better' dress and a school tiara like it was part of her -- like it belonged on her. She kicked the box back under her bed, for It made her sick to see.

... It looked nothing like the image which just made her vomit.

Author's Note

Yes, yes,

It's a long one, I'll probably chop it into two or three chapters in the future, but I did it! Things are happening now; sure, it took 14 chapters, but things are happening.

Previously, I never wanted to write out AJ's accent, so I didn't in prior chapters. I still haven't really captured it without falling on totally illiterate devices here, but I'll try.

And good morning!

15 ~ Foiled pt. 1

'Can you come to SCC in a couple hours please?'

This was the last thing Shimmer was expecting to receive from Sunset, but there was no sense in passing up the opportunity for deeper explanation. Thence, without anything more to accomplish that Saturday save hauling fuel from one point to another and dumping ashes, Shimmer rode to Canterlot soon as she could -- expecting to only see Sunset and Applejack. Well, Pinkie was bound to be there too but she would likely be working rather than chatting.

However, when Shimmer did arrive at the sweets store, she was pleasantly surprised to find each member of the Canterlot company awaiting in the back room. "There she is!" was the first thing she heard.

Shimmer returned a wave in response to five courteous-yet-dismissive greetings (Pinkie was indeed attending the storefront). "Now that she's here," Rainbow turned to address a sitting, distance-staring Sunset. "Will you please explain what's going on?"

Considering that Sunset didn't seem to even be paying attention, Shimmer was expecting something offhanded or otherwise nonchalant, but Sunset -- after an exaggerated breath -- stood and surprised Shimmer for the second time that afternoon. "Actually, can I just talk to Shimmer first?" These words weren't just unexpected; Shimmer didn't know she was in any way prepared to engage her counterpart solo.

Regardless, she kept her mouth shut.

"I know: it's a little rude but ... just for a few minutes?" Each of the other girls took out of the room with them an aura of begrudgement and Shimmer discovered it soon replaced by a sense of déjà vu as she took a seet around the medium-sized, back room table while Sunset slid into a seat opposite.

With this encounter initiated, Sunset threw softly-tapping fingers onto the surface between the pair and stared into it -- not Shimmer's eyes. This sort of disregard was a somewhat obnoxious quality Shimmer mentioned before, but she decided not to say anything this time. Oddly enough, Sunset surprised her the third time that day by offering something Shimmer hadn't even asked for on the occasion: an explanation.

"I didn't mean to put you on the spot like that; they were all just looking at me for so long and I've gotten a little tired of people staring." Are you telling me the people staring at you the other day made you nervous? You didn't show it very much. Shimmer's first thought and Sunset's kind-of-open behavior (really, though, Sunset spoke like it was just her friends' staring which 'mildly annoyed' rather than made her nervous) encouraged the less-confident-in-her-own-eyes girl to continue giving Sunset time and space to put things together. Just be nice.

"Hey, don't worry about it." Shimmer assured while making a point of loudly turning her chair. "I get pretty ... uncomfortable all the time when people are paying attention to me, so, If it makes things easier, I can look somewhere else."

Sunset muttered, "thanks," in a rather flat tone as Shimmer turned away. A little prod.

"Did something ... happen, Sunset?" Yesterday you said your friends were sick and today you had everyone come here out of the blue." To this, Shimmer heard Sunset's hair rustling -- a hand was probably running through it a few times. "They don't exactly look fit as fiddles, either."

After a moment of hair sound and silence, Sunset answered, "Yeah, but I don't exactly know how to say it, or maybe I just don't know what I can say about it." What you can say? "See, someone did something really messed up ... " A foot tapping beneath the table caught Shimmer's attention. Hang on a sec ... She connected dots fast.

"Wait, you're not saying somebody poisoned them, are you?" Without any response -- denial or affirmation -- Shimmer imagined Sunset wasn't refuting anything. "Sunset, that's not just 'really messed up.' That's criminal!" For just a few seconds, Shimmer found herself resisting the urge to grimace, but she continued trying to be thoughtful. Why would anybody keep quiet about that for any length of time? "You haven't told anyone else?"

The sound of Sunset's head thudding against the table preceded a groaned, "It's not so easy as that! I don't have any evidence and, as soon as they know I ratted them out, they'll do something serious! They have way too many people and things to just be taken care of in one chat!"

Shimmer started understanding Sunset's trepidation. However, she also understood that this wasn't like taking out almost-full garbage -- it couldn't be procrastinated. "Okay," she started while framing her nose and mouth with either hand. Before she continued, Sunset's uncertain-sounding tapping on the table in accompaniment to her foot brought Shimmer to a realization. Wait. "You have to tell them, but you don't know if that's just going to bring them to a choice that will put them more in harm's way?"

All tapping from Sunset ceased and a confirming hum was followed by unadulterated silence. Shimmer stole a glance to discover her counterpart intently keeping one hand's finger on her lip to keep it from chattering teeth. "Sunset ... They're threatening your friends? Or are they threatening you through your friends?"

"Uhm ... "

That's a quiet 'me' but you're not going to say that, are you?

"Why?" she asked -- knowing there was no point waiting for a more elaborate answer to her prior query. "Nobody would go through that much trouble and risk just to scare you." Continuing to avoid looking, Shimmer practiced patience while waiting for even a vague answer; it didn't come after a low, dull puff.

"It's silly." Shimmer pinched her nose's bridge to this and consciously kept her voice down.

"Sunset, it's not silly. It's the exact opposite. What do they want?" From nearby, a smack resounded on the table. Of course, Shimmer's heart began to race and she hoped she didn't say something rude.

Turns out, Sunset wasn't aggressive toward the surface separating them because she was upset at Shimmer. Thank god. Instead, Sunset demonstrated well who she was upset with by exclaiming, "I don't even know! I mean, now they just want me to go to some dumb school thing I'm not supposed to be at, but that has to be just the beginning! I don't see any other option but to do it and -- maybe -- find out a little more from there!" Somehow I think I have an idea of what you're going through.

Uncertainty was present in Sunset's tone but something worse became apparent; Shimmer could have sworn it was ... desperation? Casting her gaze back revealed that Sunset, eyes squeezed shut, was resting her chin on a palm and tapping the opposing index finger against her head-supporting elbow like she was trying to play sixteenth notes with a single drumstick too flat to roll.

Slight tremors could also be seen in her demeanor -- Shimmer did the same thing often -- as if she were anxious but didn't want to show it. Hence, knowing that a sense of support made things seem better for her when duressed, Shimmer reached out without thinking.

"Hey, we're gonna get you through-" she started but interrupted herself as Sunset snapped her eyes open and yanked away from the contact Shimmer began by stilling the drumming finger. Perhaps it was only a moment's eye/hand contact, yet it spoke worlds different and similar; something in Sunset's gaze was a titanium skeleton made to endure but stressed by a cumbersome fear or doubt, and her hand ... Her hand was hard like leather with minute bumps and scrapes all over -- built for the cruelest punishment.

Regardless, Shimmer noted two things she saw in herself throughout life. First, that doubt -- not knowing how to find yourself or what to do. Second, the way Sunset pulled away; it was a jerked motion but employed a gentleness intimating that she was timid or didn't know what to do with her hand.

Although Shimmer knew this well, Sunset seemed more than unsure. Rather, she seemed afraid of her hand.

"S-sorry, I didn't mean-" Shimmer covered her face and averted her gaze just before Sunset. Not that her counterpart was looking, but Shimmer knew the shame in her cheeks was due to being caught doing what she said she wouldn't. "L-look," she moved on. "I know it might not feel like it right now, but your friends will understand. Sure, they'll be upset at first and want to do something, but after a calm chat they'll try and figure out the safest course of action just like you are."

Silence again pervaded for a time. Soon, though, Sunset sighed, stood, and said, "Yeah, that makes ... sense. Thanks for listening; I just figured, hahaha, that it might be easier to talk to ... myself, you know?"

To Shimmer, the scenario was a little odd, but she could see where Sunset was coming from and thence returned a chuckled, "No problem and, yeah, I can sort of understand. I guess? Still bizarre to think about." With this, for a moment, a palpable, laid-back air presented itself -- a welcome reprieve -- which Shimmer was sad to dispel. "Shall I invite the others back in?" she asked but heard nothing.

Hence, she turned to see Sunset take a deep breath, nod, and exhale, "yeah."

"Tha- that's kidnappin'!"

"That's abduction and battery, isn't it?"

"Uh, girls," Fluttershy offered to flabbergasted friends, "I think that's abduction, battery, and extortion."

Dash ran a hand through her hair twice, balled it into a fist, and threw it toward Sunset before shouting, "I dunno if Sunset ever even stooped that low!" After a second of thought, the athlete narrowed her eyes and asked, "Did you?" Shimmer wondered, to this posing, Hmm, another opportunity for a prod maybe?

Upon turning to Sunset, Shimmer noticed the interrogated girl was looking down with a pensive comportment.

"Did you?" she repeated the athlete's question.

"Uh," Sunset let out while raising her head and bringing a finger to her chin.

"You have to think about it? Do you not remember?" At this Sunset moved her finger from her chin to her chest and defended herself.

"I did a lot of bad things! Well, things I think were bad! Extortion ... yeah. Battery ... " Rainbow coughed and Sunset's speech became a mutter. " ... yeah." There were several groans, but Shimmer's remained internal. What kind of twisted ... "But ... abduction!" Sunset switched subjects. " ... seems a little ... cowardly? I certainly never needed it." Light pride entered Sunset's voice and a few glowers preceded her adding, quietly, "To do all that horrible stuff I did, I mean."

Once a few eyes rolled, Dash directed her discontentment elsewhere by grimacing, "Agh! I can't believe Gilda would ... Gr, I'm gonna ... gonna ... " Sunset's face twisted in worry and she threw a hand out -- trying to piece an interjection together -- but it was Applejack who promulgated reason.

"Hold on, RD. Now, I don't mean to kill yer 'save-the-day' vibe, but we can't right just waltz outta here and start accusin' 'em of all this. We have no proof and ... if they can knock yer lights out for a whole day or two -- and you know nothin' about it -- then we need to play things a little close to the chest." Much to Shimmer's expectation, Sunset exhaled tension within and brushed a strand of hair from her face.

See? They understand. Shimmer would've flashed a reassuring smile but Sunset -- go figure -- wasn't looking.

Dash unhappily responded, "So what, we just ... do nothing?" Nobody's demeanor presented anything near joy to this suggestion; Applejack had a hesitant stance, Dash stood with an irritated scowl and crossed arms, Fluttershy held her hair in either hand and slouched over the table,and Rarity's face was hidden behind her arms as she concealed her face on the surface the group gathered around.

Seeing this was something Shimmer could hardly stand and Sunset seemed to feel the same, for she rapidly pulled her hair in a 'please-don't-freak-out-too-much' mannerism.

Huh, it's almost like people don't enjoy being violated or something, Sunset. Who would have guessed?

Of course, Shimmer kept this thought to herself as she believed her counterpart realized it to some degree and there were more important things to discuss.

"Well," Sunset breathed out in a hesitant tone -- supporting Shimmer's belief that she was trying to be considerate. "I know we don't know practically anything, and it's pretty annoying, but I don't think any of us should be wandering around by ourselves. Right?" She sounded a little more afraid than someone only hoping not to panic others; at least that's what Shimmer observed in lieu of feeling comfortable enough to offer anything to the discourse. She's just freaked out too? Must be it. Unless ...

A degree of bemusement struck Shimmer momentarily as she pondered possibilities. She's afraid of being alone? I guess I would be pretty scared if people openly hated me that much. Although Shimmer was by no estimation a social butterfly, wallflowers tended to be decent listeners -- to more than simple words.

"Ugh," Rarity groaned into the table thus catching Shimmer's ear. "I have never been one for the paranoid approach, but that makes sense." Shimmer didn't turn to the fashionista while this answer came; rather, she looked -- unconcerned about being noticed -- to see her counterpart let out a relieved, silent sigh.

Uh huh, Shimmer ascertained what seemed the only reasonable explanation for Sunset's overly-concerned fear. Definitely scared and seeking protection for yourself, but how else is this person treating you which has you that nervous? Geez, I wish you would just explain things more in depth so I could figure out what to think already! Another grimace, this one from Dash, pulled the observer from her musings.

"Well, something tells me Gilda will make another move at the pep talk. Maybe we could get some real proof then." The athlete still spoke with a sort of restless anger but wasn't being entirely rash. "Get this outta the way so we can move on."

Predictably, everyone was in agreement with that outcome.

Over the next ten minutes, Shimmer watched the group discuss how to handle the situation; they chose, after not much pause for agreement between all parties, to use Sunset as bait. After the imminent debacle was to occur, in which Sunset's only purpose was to draw attention and be removed from the pep rally, the group would wait to see where Gilda appeared and record a video to attain physical evidence hence allowing them to raise reasonable suspicion against the criminal.

Plans were drawn and Shimmer opened her mouth to raise a point which nagged at her, but nothing was outsourced from her brain to her lips.

Isn't it a little ironic and surreptitious to do it this way? Couldn't you just support Sunset as her friends, push back against any unfair treatment, and threaten Gilda's power through unity rather than scheming like this? Instead, fearing generating discord in the room, an assurance came to Shimmer and that became speech.

"I guess it'll put Gilda out of business if it goes right." Exclaimed relief, joy, and motivation came in response.

"Exactly!"

"If the shoe fits!"

"Just get it over with."

Fluttershy seemed a little less engaged in this plot than the others, more like Shimmer, so when Sunset dismissed herself with an, "I'll let you know that I got home alright and I'll see you tomorrow," Shimmer went to ask the quiet girl for a favor.

"The ice skating pep thing -- it's tomorrow, right?" First, Fluttershy tilted her head and nodded. Then, her face lit up like she found an answer.

"Why? Are you thinking you want to go?" Well, she asked my question before I did.

Shimmer felt a little sheepish, as one might if they were so easily read, but quickly replied, "Yeah, I was hoping you'd give me a hand." To this, Fluttershy brought a finger to her chin and went quiet for a spell -- thinking -- before she delivered a fair point.

"Well, I could let you into the school, but if you're looking for a disguise: Rarity's the one to ask." Disguise? Oh, I shouldn't show up looking exactly like Sunset. Should I? Shimmer thought about following through with that suggestion for just a second before frowning and finding her heart rate speeding up as it so often did; Rarity was someone unfamiliar ... seemingly a lot more different than Fluttershy. Not that that was a bad thing. Shimmer was just being weird about talking to someone she didn't have a very good rapport with.

Hence, she voiced without considering how shameless she was being, "Ask her for me?"

Fluttershy first gave two slow blinks and a cocked brow, but soon gave an, "Ah," and offered a compromise. "How about we ask her together?" God I am so glad that you get it.

"Sounds fine," Shimmer agreed and the pair departed the store to catch the fashionista; they found her right outside preparing to enter a very well-maintained, silver car and flagged her down with a quick holler. Applejack was a couple parking spaces away watching with curious eyes, as everyone agreed to try keeping a close watch on one another and communicating safe arrivals from point to point out of a desire for security.

Instead of paying attention to the inquisitive look, though, Shimmer opted to wait and watch Rarity strain her eyes at Shimmer before nodding.

"Sorry if we startled you," Fluttershy apologized preceding gesturing to Shimmer. "But Shimmer wants to be at the pep stuff tomorrow and wanted to ask you something." Of course, Shimmer tensed under Rarity's -- Blue? Dark blue? Something else? The light must be making her eyes weird. -- gaze. It was the kind of questioning look which made Shimmer panic trying to ensure she worded things right, but it also reminded her of a way-more-useful-than-simple mantra.

Just think before you speak. Just think before ... "Uhm, just- I was wondering: could you help me at all look-" She stopped herself to point toward her fiery hair. " ... less like Sunset? I mean, I have hoodies and jackets but ... " Shimmer trailed off as Rarity beamed a smile of questionable size.

"Are you saying ... " Rarity answered like she was suppressing a scream. What am I getting myself into? "You want ... a costume?"

"Well-"

"Ohmygoodness I can't believe it!" the fashionista leaned toward Shimmer and began gushing, "You know, I've wanted to get my hands on Sunset's motif for a while now, since things changed! Well, before, really, but she's so ... unapproachable I'd all but given up hope!" I know what you mean but ... Shimmer tried thinking but Rarity continued at a non-interjectable rate, so she kept her mouth closed. "I was always thinking she'd look good in blue and yellow with the black. Oh! And something a little less stark for shoes! Not that purple and black aren't nice, white too, but ... "

Blue and yellow? I never really ... Yeah, I guess it could- Wait a minute! Wait a- focus! "Uh, Rarity!" Shimmer stopped the gushing girl with a shout -- getting first a shocked, but soon ashamed, expression. "Can we, uh, just start things off with a wig?"

"Sorry, it's just that ... " Rarity -- after the single statement -- halted herself, cleared her throat, and took on a more professional aura. "Suddenly I have nothing else important happening today, dear, so I'll send you the address and see you over there as soon as you can?" To this, Shimmer failed to hide skepticism. I dunno, now I'm a little ... Whatever, it can't be that bad.

"Sure," she responded quickly to try masking uncertainty, and Rarity apparently bought it as she shook either fist in front of her chest and near leapt into her car.

Afterward when she was gone, Shimmer turned to Fluttershy and inquired, "She said 'get my hands on' in a pretty manic way, right?" Flutter nodded with a confirming closing of her eyes. "Should I worry?" No words came for a second.

"Oh," Fluttershy dismissed after a time, "Rarity just gets ... passionate about fashion. You'll be fine."

3:02 P.M. arrived and Shimmer entered 'The Carousel Boutique.' Neat name. After two knocks Rarity threw the door open and almost dragged Shimmer inside. "Would you like anything, dear? Tea? Water" the fashionista asked while prowling from place to place gathering different sheets or tools.

Shimmer was too taken aback by what surrounded her to answer; she wandered into Rarity's well-sized, stocked residence in amazement. 'Boutique' is right! Thumbing a soft, felt blouse, Shimmer eyed hundreds of garments and fabric selections before asking, "You make these yourself?" The answer came in a nonchalant tone as if the questioned one found the prospect mundane.

"Oh, yes. I've been doing this for a few years now." 'Passionate' is one way to put it. "So," Rarity strode toward Shimmer with a smile and a probably-weighty stack of attire over one arm before beginning, "Shall we start with a few different tops and skirts? I've had these laying around for far too long."

First, Shimmer examined the garments; they were various blouses, T-shirts, and a vast array of differently styled skirts, but they were in colors complimenting strong reds or yellows. Not to mention, they were all articles Shimmer wouldn't mind wearing and no wig was present, so she looked to Rarity with a raised brow and asked, "Weren't we finding something to make it hard for people to recognize me?"

With a wave, the scrutinized fashionista explained, "Oh, we are, but to find what really makes you look not like you: I need to know what ticks your boxes so to speak." Shimmer tilted her head.

Somehow that sounds like an excuse.

Rarity let out a little puff of air and added, "Just indulge me a little bit, please dear?" You're the only person I've ever met who says 'dear' like that, but okay.

"I'm asking you for help, so it's only fair. Suggest away." Gritting teeth seemed necessary for Rarity to hold back a high-pitched noise but Shimmer had some idea what it was like to really enjoy something, so she didn't mind being ushered to a changing room and having a variety of attire shoved in her arms. From there she could appreciate the boutique's color palette more.

Everything was draped in a calm, purple-and-white -- some shining stripes of gold or shining silver too -- which created a piquant array; it oozed the sophisticated aura Rarity seemed so fond of, and Shimmer found it to generate a noble atmosphere. Looks like someone put time into this.

Of course, Shimmer stood out in it with her fiery, sharp colors, but she could bear it since Rarity was the only other person around to notice.

Throughout the next two hours, the fashionista criticized and gave different color combinations, scribbled notes on pages, and procured more clothes than Shimmer even knew the names of or how to wear.

I haven't tried on this much in one day ... ever.

Finally, Rarity shouted like she solved an enigma entailing enormous proportions of puzzlement, " Yes! I've got it! Wait right here!" She scrambled away thus leaving Shimmer to examine the most recent ensemble; it wasn't anything special -- just a teal T-shirt extended by a translucent over skirt leading into a more solid orange one, darker-blue leggings, and a pair of less-practical-but-matching, studded black boots.

Shimmer decided she could live with the somewhat-detracted aesthetic if she were in her own, more-familiar shoes, but her pondering was distracted by the muttering of a returning designer.

Before she made it all the way back, Rarity called out to herself, "Oh, wait! This too- no this! Maybe ... Okay!" When she did arrive, she had a wide grin and a pile of various, eye-catching, attractive colors. Using some critical observation, Shimmer tilted her head before making any remark.

"You want me to wear this? This was just 'laying around'?"

Her trepidation -- she realized -- was misinterpreted for excitement as Rarity proclaimed, "Yes! Go on, give it a try; I know you'll look simply stellar!"

After a hum, Shimmer entered the changing room, donned the clothes, felt their alluring grip, and called, "Is there a particular pair of shoes I should go for here?" Rarity made a noise like she smacked her forehead before grimacing some muttered curse which was incoherent to Shimmer.

"Duh, I'm sorry; I thought it would look perfect with your boots as they are!" Well that makes this a little easier.

Nothing but hesitation gripped Shimmer after she was fully dressed and standing before the changing room's door. She knew she looked good, but didn't know that she could handle looking that good. Regardless, she pushed the door open and incited an expected squee while Rarity wheeled a decorated, full-body mirror in front of her.

"See? See? Is it not simply gorgeous?"

For a time, Shimmer said nothing. The outfit was ... star striking; her jacket was a nice cover -- concealing the true beauty -- but without that cover it was brighter than Venus on a cloud-less night in the middle of nowhere civilized.

The top began with a royal azure which led into an even-in-the-right-places-yet-broken-too layering of oranges, reds, and wispy streams of purple beckoning any to follow trails twisting around -- nay, framing -- every curve. Sleeves were long by a little too much, but they had contrasting colors and made Shimmer's arms appear slender and light. Also, there was the slightest split at the shoulders; the whole top just challenged eyes to stay away from her torso.

If that wasn't enough, the skirt Rarity picked out was a hard horizontal counter to the fluid, more-vertical layers above; it started with a strong violet that introduced a gradient teal (into what seemed almost white) before fanning into each resplendent hue mentioned prior.

Just shy of the knees, it detailed pleating which allowed the colors an excellent grasp of different shades from light, and it had this bouncy, wavy quality to it -- daring anyone to stare.

Shimmer was most delighted to notice that the colors did go beautifully with her boots, and black tights didn't detract from that beauty. Any number of stockings, knee socks, or whatever would've been fine, in fact. However, Shimmer realized that baring her legs would certainly ... draw even more attention.

Looking at it was like staring at a sunset of the most complete, gentle kind over a horizon unblemished in any way by the vast histories and conflicts beneath. Beautiful and unfettered by shadows of any sort. Shimmer loved it, but ...

Despite the outfit being stunning, it was just that; the outfit was stunning -- screaming, "I'm here! Now! And I'm not afraid to show it!" -- but Shimmer felt small in it, as if she might as well shrivel up and disappear.

Although it wasn't her style -- really, she just didn't stand right in it -- she came to a conclusion rather fast. I know exactly who could pull this off ... figuratively, of course. Literally would be- focus, Shimmer, you have to give an answer. "Wow," she said with little volume. "Rarity, this is really something; you have clearly been putting some attention on this kind of thing."

"Haven't I?" the designer beamed before Shimmer asserted her train of thought.

"It's a little tight and loose in some spots; could you situate it with the right measurements?" To this, Rarity's face lit up like her mission in life was complete.

"Of course! I thought you might like it that much! Any ideas what to wear it to? I recommend any dance! You-"

Seeing it rude to have someone go through so much trouble just to give their work away, Shimmer interrupted, "Actually I don't think I could ever wear this in public." Unabridged shock replaced Rarity's triumphant face and she furrowed her brow in confusion. Of course, Shimmer started explaining, "I was just thinking, see ... You know how Sunset's clothes all seem a little, uh, tarnished?"

Apparently, Rarity -- nodding vigorously -- noticed the same thing at some point too, for she threw her arms up like she was about to yell at someone and replied, "Yes! I can't believe she actually walks around like that. Well, maybe the idea is to get people to not want to look, but still!"

Urging Rarity to say what she felt, Shimmer hummed and nodded. "I would ask her to come get something, but she really is so ... "

" ... unapproachable." Shimmer finished.

"That! Exactly that!" With this, Rarity simmered down some and shot Shimmer an inquisitive look. "I'd love it if you could get her to wear that, but would you like me to make you something like it? I know it would be weird for you to match but I-" Shimmer coughed to interrupt and took a deep breath.

Christ, Shimmer, she can take it. Just be honest. "Really, that's okay. I'm happy with what I have, or maybe the teal one we tried before."

Rarity adopted a crushed frown and misconstrued, "You don't like it?"

No, wait, that's not right! That's not what I meant. Quick, fix it Shimmer! "That's not it! I think it looks great, but I'm not wanting to look so ... flashy I guess. How do I put it? There's something about Sunset's general personality which makes me think she'd look way better in it." That crushed face became one of surprise, as if Rarity couldn't process the words.

"'General person-' ah, wait ... Uh ... " Rarity fished for something in her head. Wrinkles showed on her forehead as she squeezed her eyes shut and uttered something unintelligible in deep thought. Soon her eyes popped open along with her mouth but closed just as fast.

This process repeated a few times before she finally found some words. "That's ... so you- Okay, let me-" She stopped to give a soft groan. "It must be really weird for you to see Sunset, right? Like, I can't imagine meeting an alternate dimension's version of myself. Well, I can, but I have no idea how I might react." Thinking about recent experiences was required for Shimmer to construct an appropriate answer.

"Yeah, 'weird,' is a pretty good way to put it. 'Mysterious' seems more important though. I've always wanted something that really gripped me like this happen. It's just ... " Where are you going with this?

"Sunset's not exactly what you'd expect?"

"Yes. It's like she looks like me if I looked a lot different." Rarity's head flopped to one side like a penguin starting to slide, so Shimmer tried to elaborate. "Something's really different. I mean, the way she ... acts I guess? It's hard to explain; she's just so ... out there and I'm so ... not."

Rarity returned her head to verticality and huffed, "I sort of understand, I think? Okay, so, Sunset's a little more ... bitter than you. What's it like to see, well, yourself like that? I mean, you seem -- not that we've talked much -- but you seem less fast to turn the cold shoulder." Hmm, I guess so. I think I'm a little too quick to avoid a conversation, though. There's something else here, but how do I say it?

"Well, the word 'weird' comes back to mind." Rarity listened whilst nodding. "That's really far from my mind whenever she's around, though." This got a puzzled look urging continuation. Maybe I'm getting more where you're trying for. "I see her sort of trying to hide from people and I think, 'she's ashamed of what she did. She's probably feeling that she can't ruin anything else if she just sort of ... runs away,' and I wanna help her see that she can be a more positive force. People don't seem to want to try, so I think I ought to give her some support if I can ... and a chance you know?"

After an, "Ah," Rarity turned away like she was guilty of something. "I'm really glad you showed up. It is a little hard for me to be around Sunset after all; I still find myself not forgiving her even if the right thing to do is to try. Even so ... " she paused and turned to again face Shimmer. "I doubt I'll ever be able to be around her without remembering ... things, so you being here makes me feel that she might just get some such chance. I think you might be exactly what she needs to really change."

Shimmer considered her interactions with Sunset and made the contradictory conclusion, Funny, I think it's the other way around, but, "We'll see," was her actual response. "Anyway, can we get to making me not look super striking? Now that we've 'found my color' or whatever?"

Eyes keen for fashion widened before squinting at this request.

"Oh, heavens dear! I didn't mean to keep you so long! Yes, yes, of course!" After ambling to another room, Rarity reclaimed her notes and marked away. Twenty minutes later, Sunset stared at someone she didn't recognize.

Almost-green hair was tucked behind her ears -- her eyes nearly matched -- long sleeves had a plain teal to them, and the rest of her attire save her tights and boots were a solid, royal blue; the colors made her look like she would disappear in a darker room. Not that Shimmer cared, as being discreet was the idea and she was happy to attract fewer eyes.

"So not your color." Rarity deadpanned after a quick examination. She emanated a grave aura as though a loved one passed away.

Understanding what she meant, Shimmer chuckled out, "You're telling me." They exchanged dull banter for a few moments longer while Shimmer returned to her original attire and -- once she looked a little more like herself -- she ended up holding a simple shopping bag. "It was quite generous of you to help today." she thanked with a low head bow.

"Oh, please, I practically tossed outfit after outfit at you for hours!" Rarity clapped and raised her hands together in a pleading gesture. "If anything, I should be apologizing to you for indulging me."

Shimmer answered as if the words were elicited by courtesy, "Not at all! It was actually pretty fun; I'd like to see more of your work sometime." Polite, was her impression of Rarity, and it was only supported by the fashionista's next words.

"The Boutique will be here for you, Shimmer! I hope to see you drop by again!"

Her personable attitude made Shimmer feel quite comfortable in conjunction with the neat, fine-furbished space. "So," she asked before habitually reaching into her jacket pocket which contained keys and a wallet, "How much do I owe you for the ... two ... " She silenced herself as Rarity's lips twisted into a frown and her head tilted in a somewhat odd display of disappointment. Or is it unfamiliarity? Wait, you're not about to give me these outfits. No way.

Disbelief didn't go away when Rarity declared with a hand wave, "Dear, you don't owe me a dime. Just pay me by making it -- and Sunset -- look good, okay?" Hearing this gave Shimmer an amendment to her prior impression.

Super polite and nice! "I ... getting Sunset into it might take some time, but thank you so much! I'll try my best."

"That's enough for me," Rarity returned with a laugh -- inciting Shimmer to do the same -- before walking toward the door and smiling. Of course, Shimmer followed, opened the exit, and turned to extend her gratitude once more.

"Again, thank you; I'll see you tomorrow." The fashionista's smile widened and she waved again.

"I'll see you tomorrow. Really, it was nothing; enjoy!" Upon the door being closed, Shimmer felt a sense of privacy, relief, and accomplishment.

Not so hard -- just an easy, friendly chat, and I didn't make a total fool of myself! Probably ... Right? Shimmer, seeing no sense worrying about things by that point, dismissed any doubt. What's done is done. Leaving the building brought Shimmer to something else which could occupy her thoughts: a bone-chilling air which motivated haste to her bike.

Welcomed heat was generated by the vehicle's engine after she turned her key to ignite the engine -- all very appreciated throughout the ride home. However, more appreciated was the scenery's change; Canterlot's outskirts, and less-populated, forested environs for miles, were coated by a crystalline sheath of frost. No snow stuck here either? Maybe next time.

Alas, despite the surrounding beauty and her engine's rumbling white noise, her environment did little to distract her from pondering tomorrow.

Will people throw things again? How can teachers let that happen anyway? She furrowed her brow to herself and took on a dejected frown. No one seems to care one way or the other -- not even the people who are supposedly on her side. What can I do? No matter how much she repeated this question, no answer came. Ultimately, she was more focused on this when she finally walked her bike into Aerick's workshop, saw the workaholic staring over some documents by an in-use, portable stove, and offhandedly asked, "Anything ought to be taken care of?"

"Just fires. Why? Bored kiddo?"

Gravitating toward the heating element, Shimmer tilted her head back and forth -- disregarding Aerick's gaze being trained on his workbench -- and let out a low hum. "Nah, I have plenty on my mind; this whole interdimensional stuff is turning out to be a real can o' worms."

Without turning away, Aerick laughed, "I could imagine, so you confirmed things then?"

"Kinda. From the looks of it, it's not some prank, but still ... Interacting with another version of yourself is ... "

The more-focused-on-whatever-project man offered, " ... a bit of a back stepper?"

"I was going to say 'weird' but that works too."

Once more, laughter came. "I've 'eard an' seen weirder from tha' science-y lass in tha' cabin down yonder." Aerick -- still not looking up -- jabbed a thumb in a general direction before continuing. "Maybe you ough'a ask 'er for advice?" Shimmer considered this for the better part of a second before a chill ran down her back.

"I dunno. The last time I went over there ... she was in the body of a pig, the pig was in her body, and she was chasing hers- it all over the place 'cause it ran off with some 'electro-swapper rug' thingamajig. Suffice it to say, it was weird." Silence overtook for a time, Aerick dropped something onto his workbench, but soon a boisterous chuckle -- one clearly meant to be contained -- escaped.

"Weirder than an alternate version of you?"

Somehow Shimmer didn't know how to respond and, for a moment, weighed the two scenarios on an invisible scale. Calculations inconclusive, she joined in the laughter and answered, "You've got me."

After jollity died down, she moved forward. "Do you have any idea if Mom or Dad are up?" Jollity transformed into a more somber atmosphere, Aerick turned to Shimmer, pretended to hold a cigarette between his lips, and shook his head a few times.

"Medicated and passed out," he stated.

"Ah, well, I guess I'll hit the hay too."

Waving a hand and turning back to his bench, Aerick joked, "Please, Shim, the hay is right bundled up an' you've a bed; don't ruin me hard-earned straw!" Sure, sure. Shimmer spoke not but acknowledged the technicality with a short giggle before making haste to the warm house, to various hearths, and finally to her bed. Her previous question repeated: What can I do?

Still, the only answer she came to seemed a vague, moot point. Just be nice. It wasn't satisfactory yet it demanded attention. Attention Shimmer was tired of giving.

Ugh! Sleep, Shimmer. Sleep will bring clarity. Then you can put things together easier and tackle this pep talk.

Author's Note

So, interesting story:

I handwrote this whole thing because I like writing by hand a lot ('nough said but you can ask if you're curious as to more details), and I just thought, "Oh, you've got the skeleton from scene A, to B, to C, and so on, so just go ahead and flow from bit to bit.

College-ruled notebook paper seems a little more limited and inconsistent than digital pages, so I wasn't really concerned with matter.

Turns out, 28 single-spaced pages equal something like 13 or 14 thousand words. Who knew? Hence, I had this scene I wanted to get to from Shimmer's perspective and now I'm thinking, "14,000 words is a fucking long chapter. Maybe you should cut that up."

Moral of the story: seven to 14 pages is a good enough chapter on college-ruled notebook paper. Won't be doing that again.

Anyway, there are some things throughout this and the next part of this that remind me of a saying: "Shit enough and you'll shit gold." Well, metaphorically I can see that, but I have yet to come across that experience liter-

Moving on, I used a horizontal rule for the -- I think? -- first time in this story; I don't like it. Not to say I like the ten-or-more spaced lines to indicate a drawn-out transition, but I've left the horizontal rule in conjunction with the space method for comparison and because I would be interested to hear others' thoughts on the subject.

Ici, and enjoy should you find it such!

16 ~ Foiled pt. 2

Sleep did nothing to help Shimmer discern specifics about what she could do.

Morning was passed in a fruitless attempt to boil a cup of coffee (she didn't generally drink coffee but decided the occasion called for it) with a confused glare and continual pacing during which she walked in a circle in her room -- not getting anywhere repeating the same questions.

Be nice? How do you even do that? What's the code? Old platitudes she'd heard from a younger age became useless in the scenario. 'Treating others how I want to be treated'? How's that going to affect how other people act toward somebody else? Bah! Changing scenery from her room to the library didn't help either; she just went on and on until her crazy interrogation with herself finally brought her somewhere somewhat beneficial. Rarity was nice. What did she do?

Ground finally got covered. Of course! It's so easy; you just need to offer her things and support her no matter how others act. One qualifier made itself known very soon. Well, don't be a door mat but ... be nice?

"Ugh!" she whined and recognized that, after two hours of talking to herself, she still had nine hours to pass before the evening's events would take place, so she found Aerick and received a menial task which she'd forgotten the purpose of only ten minutes after beginning: breaking a half-frozen clay mound with a shovel and hauling much of it from one point to another with a wheel barrow.

Four hours in, the cold bite of two degree C air didn't matter, her hands ached but she didn't care, and her stomach demanded she take a break.

Perhaps it had to do with her obsession to find something that she really cared about, but all that performing actions seemed to do for her was pass time; her mind still looped with manic queries about how to proceed despite attempts to focus herself otherwise.

When the clock struck five in the evening, she quit what she was doing, showered, dressed in her facade, and went to retrieve her bike; she decided she was going to leave early to ease her mind.

"'S it a costume party? I'm guessin' I don't have to tell you those colors're awful with your hair?"

Shimmer hardly registered the comment as she got her bike from the workshop, but rolled her eyes and explained, "There's a wig that goes with it but it would be stuffy to wear it on the bike. Anyway, I'll see you when I get back?"

"Aye."

Riding to Canterlot was something she did slowly -- both because of nonsensical anxiety and leaving early. The air was clear, dry, and cold, but some urgency to accomplish something warmed her in tandem with the bike's engine. No reason to be nervous. It's just a simple gathering ... of a bunch of people.

Sharp noise to one side startled her and brought her to a halt just between Canterlot and deep wilderness. Curiosity caused her to examine until she saw a faded sign where only the word 'Mill' could be read.

None of my business. Just keep on, Shimmer. You have your own stuff to attend to. You can do this.

Alas, her reassurances didn't stop her from drumming on her handlebars. Ugh! Why do you have to be such a wreck all the time! Despite nerves, she arrived at the school at 6:52, equipped her wig, and walked to a sole, gray side door she found inelegant on the building's Eastern wall where she was meant to be granted access. One text was all it took for Fluttershy to open and appear in the entrance.

"I see Rarity helped you just fine!" she greeted Shimmer with a soft grin.

"The girl is passionate about fashion." Shimmer repeated the quiet girl's statement with first-hand knowledge and pushed passed her into greater warmth. That was rude. Apologize you numbskull. "Sorry, I didn't think; it's just so cold -- it's like winter is coming or something."

Fluttershy laughed, "No worries! I didn't want to stand here with the door open anyway. Come on!" and urged Shimmer down a long hall, through auditorium doors, and into a beautifully-decorated atrium.

Chairs and tables were situated to the sides, a stage with large curtains of black and white obfuscated a back stage, and winter-based decorations were hung or pinned all over; Shimmer's favorite were these sparkling snowflakes dangling off a glow-in-the-dark, star-studded ceiling. The muted black scheme of things was poignant and captured the essence of a clear, winter's night.

One call was all it took to garner attention from the decor.

"Hey! Over here!" came the chipper tune of Pinkie promulgating the friend group's location. Of course, Shimmer got a few remarks, upon reaching them, about her disguise from the others, but she was quick to brush them off as she wanted to discuss other things. Applejack extended courtesy first, though.

"Would ye like any cider or punch?" she asked while pointing away from the group -- in a corner -- to a central part of the auditorium where a table with large, liquid-filled bowls rested.

Disregarding the temptation for refreshment due to a handful of students gathering around the table, Shimmer declined, "I'm more interested in how exactly this is all supposed to work; like, where's Sunset? When do ... things happen?" Maybe something really going down will help me focus on other things.

Rainbow was the one to explain, "Sunset won't come in 'til 7:25 -- right in the middle of things." Dash's face fell as she went on. You find how they treat Sunset just as awful as I do. Don't you? "About that time, actually a bit before, Applejack and I will head out the doors beyond the stage and set up to see if we can't catch Gilda being ... Gilda on camera." She paused while pointing to each friend besides Applejack or Shimmer. "Everyone else will be on the inside and ready to bring the teachers out as soon as we say Gilda's going too far. Do you wanna be inside or out?"

I mean, that seems like a sensible plan. Another thought contradicted this but Shimmer dismissed it. Much as I'll hate the cold ... "I'd rather be outside to see things myself." she answered.

Events set in motion, Shimmer watched as a handful of students (people arriving early or with privileges regarding entrance) became hundreds. All of her was so, so happy to be in the corner at that moment; in fact, she unconsciously moved closer to the wall. Not only did it alleviate her discomfort, but she could still observe the goings on of the crowd with good resolution.

Doors inside closed at 7:00 and people behaved as anyone might expect high schoolers to; disregarding teachers walking onto the stage and urging quiet, kids chatted and laughed, some respected, and some displayed bouncing demeanor like they were ecstatic. Of course, some stared at phones or papers -- unfocused -- as if they cared more about their own projects or proceeds and were present for some other reason.

Cutting over any parties' conversations came the ear-splitting, speedy bzz! of a microphone being activated too near to its audio processor. I bet that was on purpose.

Soon after, many students hushed and a tall, formally-dressed lady with a gradient of hair similar to Rainbow's -- but sporting different colors and a slight shine -- walked through the stage curtains, microphone in hand, and looked over the amassed youth. "CHS students!" she addressed with an upbeat tone, "As I know you're all aware: Deep Freeze Fest is on the way and, with it, our annual Ice Skating Competition!"

Cheers interrupted in the crowd but she bid them to die down with a raising-and-lowering hand and continued, "Now, it is my pleasure to give the stage to last year's champion to announce categories for participation, students to surpass, and rules for each bracket!"

That said, the stage curtains began drawing back and Shimmer jumped from a squeal.

"I did the streamers!" Pinkie didn't keep her voice down. Are you this uppity all the-

Shimmer bore witness to a scene which inspired appreciation and awe for all the work that must have been employed to create something so beauteous; light shone upon a painted background -- spanning the stage's berth -- of a valley lake situated between a few snow-covered mountains with snow monsters and snow-topped evergreens contrasting the white on a cloudless day, streamers of pink, blue, gold, and white flicking from point to point like the brush strokes, and glistening, twirling ice skates suspended by strings which only showed themselves at some junctions akin to spiderwebs on a sunny, spring day.

Expressions awe full were received by students all around the auditorium.

Someone unknown to Shimmer was given the microphone and introduced themselves by a name irrelevant to her. While they talked about the upcoming competition, Shimmer glanced again and again at her phone -- only wracking her nerves more -- to discover the time was 7:06.

"So, can someone point out Gilda to me?" she asked to distract herself.

Dash answered, "Right now I don't see her, who knows what she's cooking, but she's hard to miss; she's really tall, has almost-white-blonde hair, wears these Japanese pants for martial something, and often wears this brown-leather jacket over everything."

Just as Shimmer thought she heard it all, Dash added something hard to forget.

"Oh! And she has these really bright, gold eyes, and she'll be the first to start something." Sounds like somebody I would seriously avoid.

Happy to be watching rather than interacting, Shimmer absentmindedly watched the stage while the minutes ticked by with students cheering and the speaker calling off names and schedules. However, just as prior ordained, Rarity called at 7:22, "Sunset's here. Time to let her in."

Fluttershy and Rarity vacated to do just that, Pinkie went to join another group so eyes would be present should she disappear, and Shimmer took a few deep breaths before being ushered to join Applejack and Rainbow along the student-comprised crowd's outskirts toward a small stairway (away from central view) leading behind and to the stage's side.

"Come on, Shimmer, the door's just back here." Dash urged as Shimmer stopped just before the stairs so she could turn to the crowd and the auditorium's entrance.

"Hang on. I just wanna see something."

Most of the students had happiness on their faces in droves. Then, everything changed when Sunset attacked the room by bashing through the doors. Heads turned -- starting from the crowd's rear and developing toward the front -- and gloom usurped prior jovial tones.

Everybody, including the student happily announcing things pertaining to upcoming festivities, got quieter.

In fact, it became so quiet that Shimmer could hear some students' murmurs.

"What's she doing here?"

"Isn't she banned from this kind of thing?"

"I sure as hell signed that petition."

"Ugh ... bitch ruins everything."

Through it all, Sunset stomped forward as the crowd parted to let her pass -- like nobody wanted to wipe their hands or something -- with clenched fists and stoic features. She's ready for anything.

Dash saying, "Something came up; we need to step out. It's really important," was a mutter of no consequence (talking to a staff member wondering what they were doing) compared to an angry hiss emanating from a source previously described to Shimmer.

"Sunset Shimmer! You are not supposed to be here!"

True to Rainbow's prediction, after Gilda grabbed attention, she threw something at Sunset which Shimmer didn't recognize until it collided with its target; it was the classic expression for contempt of one's presence: a tomato.

People became bolder once Gilda prompted it; they closed in around Sunset, smacked, shoved down, and picked her up so they could repeat. While some teachers failed to stop things -- there are more students after all -- some stood on the sidelines without lifting a finger. Of course, Shimmer only needed look away from Sunset for a few moments to realize the majority's disposition.

Rarity and Fluttershy were two of a handful of people who watched in horror, and they were only watching (clearly forced) to know what was going on and be able to relay it.

Liquid was being dumped over Sunset's head when Shimmer turned back.

I can't watch this. Shimmer marched away, pushing Rainbow and Applejack onward, and pleaded more than stated, "Okay, let's go." Neither the athlete nor farmer objected. Perhaps it was frigid, but Shimmer welcomed outside when they exited the building and found herself warm via something within: anger, disgust, ambition to act ... sensations indescribable with mere vapid letters; one would have to see the emotions throughout to even begin understanding.

Applejack led the trio toward the school's Northeast corner to a relatively hidden spot not far away. Moments later, Rainbow's phone vibrated and she announced while pointing to whence they came, "That's where they're kicking Sunset out."

Well, it wouldn't make much sense for them to take her to a door more out of the way ... unless they wanted to keep assaulting her. Shimmer shook her head -- choosing to focus on the cold rather than ... possibilities.

Less than a minute later, the doors opened again, Sunset was pushed out onto the ground, and they were slammed closed. Sunset was alone while she stood, clutched either side, shivered enough for it to be noticeable from a great distance, and began pacing in circles. After that, you're still collected enough to go through with this? I would've stormed off crying by now.

Soon enough, Sunset became stationary, facing away from the observing trio, and Gilda's taller form became apparent -- approaching from the corner opposite the stakeout crew. First, Gilda offered the wet, probably-freezing Sunset her jacket.

However, the cold girl only grabbed it to throw on the ground, dig her heel into it, point, and shout something Shimmer couldn't make out. That's a way to show anger. Shimmer realized that both Applejack and Rainbow were recording, so -- if anything -- it looked like Sunset was attacking Gilda, but the provocation made sense in both a pragmatic and anger-based way.

"Uh, Dash?" Applejack swallowed.

"I see them. I- woah that's a few people. We might have to get a better angle."

Shimmer shook at the statement but paled as ten or more students -- a slight ways from Gilda and Sunset -- joined the tall girl like a mob preparing for something. Heaving a sigh, Dash began only to be interrupted, "Don't stop recording Apple-"

"What're we looking at?"

Each girl whirled to see an unexpected face: a girl's with almost-silver, and blue hair somewhat concealed by a star-spangled hat. Circumstances were stressed and Shimmer's 'new people' reflex kicked into overdrive.

Fortunately there were others to speak in her place.

"Trixie," Applejack addressed.

Rainbow followed with, "Lulamoon."

"Farmer Jack," Trixie returned with hands clasped behind her back and a jubilant, too-big-to-seem-real smile, "Soccer Scruff. Uh ... " She paused when she looked at Shimmer. "Have we met before?"

Looking away to find relief in seeing Sunset and Gilda still standing by the doors, Shimmer said nothing for fear of giving herself away. Again, Applejack was there to draw attention. "She's none a yer business, but to answer yer question: it's lookin' like somethin' real fishy's about to happen yonder." Listening-but-not-looking Shimmer continued to watch Sunset and Gilda argue.

Trixie was supported in a way which could only intimate corroboration when she next spoke -- with long, drawn-out words -- by Gilda yanking Sunset into a half hug.

"What? Something between Gilda and Sunset? Nonsense! They're the best of friends!"

"'Best friends'?" Applejack's eye roll was audible in her voice. "That right there smells like a pretty massive pile o' manure after deep rain if ye ask me." At this, Trixie laughed; it was a pretentious, hard-on-the-ears, vile chortle which Shimmer found her stomach churning at.

"Well Farmer Jack, let's not ask you then, shall we? Let's ask them."

Rainbow groaned as Trixie moved toward the school doors without waiting for a response, "Ugh, we don't have much choice; she's gonna point us out one way or the other."

Fear crept into Shimmer's heart, but she figured she had to see this through. If not for me, then to support Sunset. Courage, Shimmer, you have it ... somewhere, right? Conversation continued and Shimmer found she would soon be pressed to make a choice.

"Will you stay here and try to have things ready in case things get ... ugly, AJ?" the athlete asked her friend. "You don't have to come either, Shimmer."

Applejack responded before Shimmer found words, "Can do, Dash. You have more hist'ry with those two than I do anyway. Just be careful, and I'll do what I can from here -- hopefully get 'Shy 'n them to be ready 'n send help if you need."

Shimmer cut in before more words could be exchanged, " I'll see things up close."

Dash nodded, started after Trixie with Shimmer in hesitant tow behind, and called back to Applejack, "And watch your back okay!"

"Eeyup!"

None of Shimmer's attempts to calm herself slowed her heart -- which beat faster and louder every step toward the commotion. You can do this, she told herself. The beat became louder. You don't even have to say anything. Her hands began shaking. It's going to be alright. Another series of steps came from Trixie, Dash, and herself, and the beat became a noise drowning out others in her ears. Still, she tried to remain calm.

Freaking out won't help anyone. Louder, louder, louder her heart sounded still!

Then, with the group's arrival at the crowd, Shimmer looked to the model of defiance and disregard for others with any semblance of power; Sunset's face was twisted in hostility and Shimmer could see her resisting elbowing behind herself by squeezing Gilda's forearm around her neck.

Anyone could see Sunset's seething desire to maim the person holding her. Seeing this somehow soothed Shimmer's imminent panic attack and her heart sounded no more.

"Well if it isn't Dewdrop!" Gilda spoke with a psychotic smile Shimmer refused to look at. "You're a little late if you've come to apologize and get back together! I'm sorry it took so long for you to come to your senses and realize what you were missing." Not going to read into that. Rainbow's response was swift and sharp as a knife fresh from a working forge going through a stick of butter in a south-facing window on a summer day.

"My senses came to me years ago and still tell me that you're a rat trying to wiggle your way, gladly, into last week's garbage; anyone with old socks up their nose could smell it from miles away."

Emotionless, Gilda stared for a moment before laughing. She was going to retort but Trixie cut in.

"Gilda, these misunderstanding girls-" Trixie paused to gesture behind her. " ... the one back there who's spying, too, seem to think there's something untoward going on between you and Sunset." Gold eyes comported a wide, pretending-to-be-appalled performance.

"Wha-" Gilda exaggerated a quivering lip. "That is so far off! Sunny Bunches and I would never -- not in public anyway! People need to mind their own business; we're getting along swimmingly! You know, right Tricks?"

Sunny Bunches?

"Of course! That's what I told them but they didn't believe me!" Sunset grumbled something unintelligible which Shimmer guessed was a curse and prompted an eye roll from Rainbow.

The athlete crossed her arms and directed to Sunset the question, "Why don't you tell me what you think about your relationship?" As one might expect by Sunset's contorted-in-rage expression, her answer was not happy or in any way agreeable.

"For fuck's sake, we are not, have not been, nor ever shall be -- in any way, shape, or form -- anything close to friends!"

Gilda's mouth went agape and she looked to Trixie; the Lulamoon shrugged before saying anything.

"Looks like your girl's mad at you Gilda."

Sunset's jaw was tensed in such a way to show how much she was avoiding letting out how much what was being said was getting to her. Of course, it only grit more when Gilda squeezed a little tighter and ruffled her hair with a gentle-but-fast palm.

"I dunno why! I walk her to class, we talk at every opportunity, and I'm always letting her know how I feel!"

You literally threw a tomato at her which has only washed away because somebody else threw a drink in her face. You must have a problem if that's your definition of a healthy relationship.

Trixie turned to face Rainbow and Shimmer with a shrug and tried to divert them from the ordeal with a, "Just a lovers' quarrel, see? We really don't have any right to interfere." Sunset groaned but the Lulamoon continued, "Let's just go back inside, have some cider, and be merry okay? Really, this isn't a good place to be right now." Was that a suggestion or a threat?

After looking at the amassed people behind Gilda -- who seemed still as statues -- Dash and Shimmer only shifted their weight to dig their feet into the ground more and the latter figuratively held her tongue to remain incognito. This is clearly one of those relationships where only one person is participating.

Discourse halted for some time. Sunset growled, Gilda shook her head, Trixie frowned, the crowd stared -- some shivered -- but no one said a word; both sides just glared to express extreme disdain.

Seconds became minutes and Sunset was the only one so much as moving, likely to stave off any damage inflicted by the cold, but she was also venting anger by wriggling in Gilda's grip. Finally, something cut through the standoff like a crack separating sheets of a frozen lake; it was a voice with searing power which could only belong to one person Shimmer knew of and all faces turned pallid under its tone.

All faces but Sunset's, anyway.

"Really, Principal Celestia," the call's beginning made the surrounding frigidity run somewhere warm. "You have no need to busy yourself with this! If it even is a fracas, I can handle it!"

Gilda instantly released Sunset whilst the entire crowd turned toward where the tall girl initially came from. There, matching the power of the voice itself, was Octavia -- in a stance which challenged anyone to stand straighter -- with a palm over her mouth like she was trying to amplify her volume toward the commotion rather than beyond the corner where the same lady Shimmer saw begin the pep talk (Principal Celestia) soon marched around and for the gathering.

During the approach, Sunset joined Dash's side and shivered. Would it be nice to offer your own jacket? Or would that just make her angrier? I don't know, dammit! Maybe ask? Shimmer thought but just bundled herself up more.

"What is going on here?" the principal demanded toward Sunset, Gilda, and Trixie more than anyone else when she arrived, "Sunset, you're not even supposed to be here. I run to the office for two minutes ... Why did you come?" There was no answer from Sunset -- just an aversion of the eyes to one side. Celestia rolled her eyes and settled them on the Lulamoon. "And Trixie ... Why am I not surprised to find you here where trouble brews?" Trixie, in response, stepped back onto her right foot, tilted her head the same way with wide eyes, and used her left index finger to point to her chin as if to ask 'me?' which only got an irritated, "Mhmm."

She replied so much like she was talking to a baby that it was an obvious lie, "This is all a misunderstanding; I assure you! See, I saw a crowd, it looked like there might be a fight, so I came to stop anything. Sure is relieving to see you and Octavia here, though!"

That is absolutely not what you seemed to be doing when you approached us.

Trixie continued, "Look, it doesn't seem like there's much of anything going on here. Sunset and Gilda were just having some kind of relationship argument and a crowd gathered. It's none of our business, though, so can we break it up?"

Celestia shook her head but turned to Gilda and moved on, "Actually, I need to have a talk with you, Gilda, so whatever 'argument' you're having is going to have to wait." Shimmer saw Sunset's knuckles turn white around tight fists, and as Gilda leaned down to snatch her jacket it was obvious that Sunset was stepping backward to channel an urge to snap her foot forward.

Disregarding or not seeing this interaction, the principal turned to herd the amassed students whence she came and continued, "Come on! Let's move on and go back inside!" With both hands, she sent the crowd away.

Soon, Applejack was approaching and Trixie was the only one Shimmer knew nothing of who remained; the Lulamoon bowed to Sunset with full-on eye contact and enunciated to the shivering girl, "Ever Austere. It has been an honor to again find myself in thy wake." Shimmer found it said with a degree of snark she never thought possible, but Sunset didn't seem to care.

"I should respondeth to thee only to realize lowest parlor tricksters deserve no such attention." What?

Before taking leave, Trixie delivered another irritating chuckle and only the four girls, Applejack rejoined their side, remained. Applejack offered, "Well, that didn't work."

Without much pause, an upset Sunset shouted, "I can fucking see that!" before grumbling something under her breath. Shimmer continued to hold her piece -- trying to process what just happened and figure out how to proceed -- while Rainbow chose, for some reason, to poke at a beast which seemed ready to charge.

"So," the athlete started and raised a brow to Sunset. "You and Gilda are ... " Any silence reigning prior was overthrown after this jab, as Sunset's voice became a near shriek.

"No we are not! Do not ever even consider that possibility ever again!"

There was a quick laugh which Shimmer did not appreciate before she raised a finger to Applejack and Dash to make a request. "Could you just give us one second?" she asked while tugging on Sunset's sleeve with a gentle, ready-to-pull-away-in-a-heartbeat grip. Of course, Sunset's reaction was the most sensible thing in the world.

"Do I know you?" Shit. Shimmer forgot about her disguise but found herself reluctant to explain herself, for this was the first time that Sunset really looked at her like she was a person who existed; there was something Shimmer saw in those skeptical eyes which relayed a myriad of emotions: rigidity, pride, passion ... defiance ... anger ... but these all seemed like masks. Underneath them resided pain, depression, fear. Shimmer's heart had significantly calmed down since the ordeal occurred, but looking at Sunset caused it to slow even more; she could've looked into those oceans of feeling forever.

Just what is it?

Ignoring her unorthodox desire, Shimmer tore off her wig, shook her hair out of a self-taught bun of sorts, and said, "It's me." Those bottomless oceans became a layer of icy surprise, but soon ... disgust overtook as Sunset looked away. Is there something on my face? Why don't you just look at me? Shimmer thought but made another realization seconds after.

I usually want people to look away when eye contact becomes a thing ...

"Crud," Sunset pulled Shimmer from her musings by saying, "Those colors really don't work on m- I mean you. Please put the wig back on."

To this, Shimmer obliged but stipulated, "Just ... talk with me for a sec?" Sunset Shrugged, more like shivered, and followed Shimmer a little ways from the other two girls before heaving a sigh. Just be nice. It's not hard. "Why didn't you tell me she was straight bullying you like that?" That didn't come out very nice, dammit! Sunset didn't care -- to Shimmer's relief -- as she gave a slow head tilt.

"It didn't seem important. I mean, what would telling you have accomplished? She's still going to treat me like that every second she gets."

Shimmer pinched her nose's bridge and groaned, "I dunno Sunset; it would've helped me understand the situation a little better -- realize what was going on and give some better advice maybe?" She almost added, 'Did you consider that?' but saw no reason to attack Sunset. Nice.

"Well, do you have some better advice?"

" ... "

Stunned beyond words for a moment as her point seemed to have flown away, Shimmer shook her head. Are you- Wait, do I have better advice knowing that? "Ugh, no I- not right this second any- Wait a second, yes I do!" Before continuing, Shimmer breathed to check her volume and ignored the fact that she was about to start a screaming contest due to her frustration with Sunset critically massing. "Go to the principal, say you're being bullied, and they'll do everything they can for you and your friends to catch Gilda and be done with this."

"It's not that easy."

"What do you mean? Just give them the whole story. Be honest! What's so hard about that? Just tell them the- tell me the truth for cryin' out loud!"

Sunset displayed that Shimmer, in fact, failed to prevent any contests by shouting, "You want the truth?" Shimmer instantly concluded that Sunset's raised voice was much scarier when directed at her. "The truth is that I can hardly tell the damn truth! I try and sometimes incoherent garble just oozes out uncontrollably! It always makes me feel like an idiot and I do not wanna be reminded of it! Especially not by you!"

Okay, I was not expecting that. Despite effort, Shimmer didn't know what to say, so she pitched something idle in an attempt to calm things down and assure that she was trying to help. "You're not an idiot for ... that."

It didn't work, as perceptible by Sunset throwing her hands in the air, turning away, and starting to walk off. "Just back off. Leave me alone! I'm going home." By yourself? Wait, that's a terrible idea! Turning a bit let Shimmer see Applejack and Rainbow moving to intercept Sunset. They realize that too.

Alas, Shimmer was torn between letting Sunset go -- remembering reading, 'Never follow someone who's turned their back to you out of an argument.' -- and poking at the fire a little more.

Damn it all. She might punch me but I'll live. Hence swallowing her fear, Shimmer ran after Sunset, called, "Wait!" and grabbed her counterpart by the wrist. First was a tangible tightening of muscle and visibility of hands curling into fists -- Shimmer prepared to jump back -- but Sunset stopped walking and did nothing. Shimmer used the moment to consider her next choice of words and note that Applejack and Dash stopped their movements. Just ... ignore that you're scared.

"L-look," she trembled out. "You don't have to tell me anything -- just listen for a sec." Sunset's posture relaxed, her fists uncurled, and she brought Shimmer a very welcome sense of relief. Say what you feel calmly and clearly. It's not hard. "Whatever twisted, tortured world you're living right now ... it doesn't have to be that way forever. I get that you don't want to use people, and people don't want to be used -- you know that now -- but there are people who are willing to help you through this. I said as much yesterday; I'm willing to help you through this!" Sunset let out a shaky breath and her teeth chattered just loud enough to hear. Definitely listening.

Shimmer released the wrist and watched it fall limp at Sunset's side before continuing, "If nothing else, no matter how angry you are at all the shit you're dealing with, you can't deny that Gilda or crew could well be waiting for you to be alone leaving school to make a move. You don't wanna give them exactly what they want, so let me -- or one of the others -- give you a ride home at least. Okay?"

Nothing but trees, muffled noise from within the school, and distant urban activity spoke for a few seconds. Those seconds were some of the longest-lasting and most-uncertain of Shimmer's life, but Sunset ended them by grabbing her own, shaking elbows, huffing, and at last whispering, "Okay. Fine. Let's go."

Watching Sunset shiver a moment more, Shimmer gestured toward the parking lot and said, "It'll be warmer on my bike. Come on." Whilst the pair moved toward the school's rear and Shimmer retrieved her keys, she glanced to see Rainbow giving a 'good job' speaking thumbs up. She returned it with a slight smile she tried to hold back; of course, she was super proud that she succeeded in speaking to someone (Sunset of all people) without feeling totally terrified -- in conflict no less! Easy.

Upon reaching the vehicle, Shimmer noticed Sunset scanning things around to a paranoid degree; it was clear she was trying to catch anybody watching. Nobody should have to watch their backs like that.

She was pulled from her head by Sunset commenting, "Skirts and bikes? Seems an off combination."

One second was all Shimmer needed to dismiss the remark with the retort, "A lot cozier and 'safer' than you might think. Provided things are long and tight enough anyway." With this, Shimmer half vaulted onto the motorcycle and was immediately shaken to the fact that she wasn't thinking about her offer by the next thing Sunset asked.

"So ... Am I actually supposed to hold on to your waist?" Shit. This is what you get for just blindly offering something in an attempt to 'be nice' you idiot! Think, how do you save this? Honesty. Honesty is the best policy.

"I'm sorry, I didn't think. I could just ride really slow and you can walk if it's weird. I just don't want you to be alone." Another lapse of uncertainty accompanied another silence, but Sunset dispelled it much faster after a few seconds standing in the cold.

" ... beats walking." she said before leaning into the space behind Shimmer on the bike. Sunset made the very rational -- for a few reasons -- choice to keep both her legs on one side of the vehicle. "Those colors don't work." she piped up again as Shimmer removed her wig.

Of course, Shimmer was fast to explain, "Yeah, but it'll be God awful to wear this while driving." She added after a second, "I'm ready when you are."

" ... "

There were slight lips jutting out from either side of the vehicle's seats, but Shimmer had never had a passenger and hence never considered mentioning the possibility (they would've hurt to hold anyway as they weren't very broad). Regardless, after a slight period of hesitation, Sunset leaned toward Shimmer.

It's not weird. It's not weird, the preparing-to-drive girl repeated to herself, but that thought was brutalized, decimated, and kicked down a cliff when two slender arms slowly, gently snaked around her waist as if Sunset was debating whether or not it was acceptable. However, the tender grip had a different quality of fear behind it; she's afraid of hurting me?

Shimmer didn't have time to think about it since the proximity of the embrace forced Sunset to somewhat rest her head on Shimmer's back. Electricity jolted down the driver's spine, her face and -- of course -- neck heated up, and cognitive skills started slipping.

No level of physical contact such as this had she ever achieved and she didn't know how to feel about it other than stunned; the warmth, the apprehension of the person behind her, the slow-yet-shaky breathing both against her and harmonizing with gentle expansions and contractions ... it was too much stimulation for Shimmer to handle and she needed something else, so she, without thinking, twisted her key in the ignition.

Alas, this horribly failed to make things easier on her.

Sunset clung tighter when the rumbling began and tensed everything closer. At least it provided some entrance for dull banter to distract Shimmer from ... things.

"First time on a motorcycle?"

"Mhm."

"Don't worry. I won't go too fast. Just lemme know when to turn and where."

Gripping her own forearms for greater security, only causing Shimmer to straighten more, Sunset agreed with a hushed, "Okay." Of course, Sunset seemed to involuntarily cling more and more as Shimmer accelerated, and the road became the only thing which could save the driver from the surreal, new sensation; if there wasn't a task to accomplish, Shimmer couldn't imagine what she might be thinking.

After cresting a neat-to-Shimmer hill she was directed to, which provided a pretty vantage, and beginning to descend, Sunset buried her face in Shimmer's back so she wouldn't have to watch. Anyone with working senses could tell Sunset was scared beyond reason, but Shimmer knew she would never admit it.

Hence, the driver slowed and slowed until, finally, Sunset's grip loosened just a tad and she started watching the roads once more. This relaxation was something Shimmer was keen to maintain not just for Sunset's sake but because it was a truly pleasant addition to the otherwise lonesome experience of riding from point to point. In fact, Shimmer ended up leaning back into the embrace with a smile threatening to escape the confines of her face.

There was a sense of bliss to the journey which had eluded Shimmer her entire life; it was peace, connection, harmony, and something else she couldn't define.

She wished it would last forever.

Unfortunately for her, Sunset took it all away with a few words and a single motion. "This is it: the complex on the left." she muttered. Once Shimmer drove into the building's parking lot, Sunset snapped her arms away and the extra, benevolence-inspiring weight behind her was gone in seconds. Something about this did more than depress her to the nth degree.

Nothing save its return could possibly elevate Shimmer's emotional status again, but it did the opposite of return. "Thanks for the ride. Night." came as salt in a proverbial wound.

"You're wel-" Shimmer started but paused when she turned to see Sunset's back receding at a most gloom-inducing speed. She was well out of earshot just moments later, but Shimmer nonetheless finished, "-come. Anytime." For real. Any. Time. "Ugh," she grimaced before placing a hand over her stomach and looking up to a clear sky dotted with a few stars hardly visible due to light pollution.

Disregarding the sensation of raw deprivation, she rode out of the parking lot and began home; it turned out to be a vapid and dull experience as every meter traveled was a grim, stark reminder that she was alone.

Arriving back at the workshop brought her a happiness to evacuate her bike's presence.

Nobody greeted her in her reentry of the house at 8:45, but Shimmer was glad about this too as she deflated into a chair around the dining room table, placed a hand on her side, and planted her face on the table in a deflated slouch. One hour passed before a voice requested she pause her sulking.

"You 'kay there, Shim?" Aerick's words registered but Shimmer gave no acknowledgement. "You sick?"

Sure does feel like it, was what she thought. However, she vocalized, "No I just ... I'm tired." She stood and ambled toward her room but stopped as a question occurred to her. "What do I do if I really ticked somebody off without meaning to and I want to make things better?" she asked things in a roundabout manner without looking at the workaholic.

"Oh," Aerick started like he understood perfectly. "Gifts, Shimmer, gifts. Not just any gift; if ye pay attention to someone, you're bound to no'ice they could really use something."

"Hm, thanks," Shimmer considered the idea for a few moments as she made her way to bed, kicked off her boots, and lied down (face in her pillow) without caring to change out of the rest of her disguise. The outfit Rarity was working on came to mind. She doesn't seem to care about clothes, though. Obviously.

For a while, she let the prospect go and ruminated about the evening in despair about the lack of what she'd experienced not even a blink -- on a cosmological scale -- before, but a particular conclusion came which she found solace in. It's just something new you're having a weird time processing; you'll probably not care so much by tomorrow.

Her hopes weren't met.

First, she dreamed about the ride repeating through the night until the pain of again and again having it end woke her at three in the morning. Next, she tossed and turned for hours as she yearned for more of that connected sensation. Again when she managed to sleep, the dreams continued and she woke up at 8:35 realizing: I'm not even thinking about getting Sunset to explain herself anymore.

She was utterly horrified, was her main focus. How do I ever get her to let me give her a ride again?

With this, something she hated asking popped into her head and she groaned, "Gahhh- God dammit!" What do I do? The question repeated for a few seconds before her eyes fell on her haphazardly-removed footwear and she remembered Aerick's suggestion. Rarity's outfit ... maybe not, but ...

Suddenly, frustration was replaced by a childish, giddy grin.

Author's Note

Can't believe I wrote some of this shit xD

If you see it, then you see it.

Also, you really should *never* drive or ride as a passenger on a motorcycle without *complete, proper* gear--unless you're okay to break stuff or straight up die; I just wrote it this way because hopeless romantic. They call that creative licensing ... also known as absolute bs but who wants to sound so crass?

18 ~ ... it Pours

"What?"

Sunset was interrupted from playing with her new boots at 3:32 that afternoon by a call from a worried Rainbow. "You didn't show up to school today. I figured you were just ditching, but we wanted to be sure nothing ... happened to you?"

Oh, duh. I honestly should've said something a long time ago. Well, whatever. Staring down to well-protected feet which pressed into the mulch of an empty playground not far from her home, Sunset answered, "Sorry, I got ... distracted and didn't say anything, but nothing 'happened'. I'll be there tomorrow, though, and we can figure things out a little more."

Dash gave a low, "Mm," in response before the call dropped. After sighing, Sunset looked up to a five-and-a-half-meter-tall, wood wall she had been running to, throwing a foot on, and scaling for the passed four hours.

Might as well keep it up 'til sunset since I have some real tract- Sunset thought, in preparation to continue enjoying her new gift, but turned away and began leaving as a single rain drop from an overcast sky fell on her hand. Nope. Never mind, it's time to go home.

Deciding this resulted in her arriving well before another downpour took place. Of course, she found her legs feeling somewhat sore after practicing the same maneuver one or two hundred times, but there wasn't anything wrong to her about indulging the ever-liberating sensation of moving up a tall vertical surface as though it was a mere extension of the ground.

Removing her new favorite possessions replaced her reflections with slight shock, for either boot had some scuff or particulate sticking to it around the base. We can't have that. Sunset gasped inside and cleaned any smear with Octavia's handkerchief, since she still had it, while smiling like a child on their birthday.

When she was done and the boots were polished to a shine, she placed them on her desk by Octavia's thermos to admire them from a variety of angles.

Thoughts about her prior conversation with Shimmer came as a result but she approached it from a much calmer headspace than before; she retrieved her phone whilst taking a deep breath, opened a menu of recent calls, and resolved, Just call and explain what you wanted to say, as she hovered a finger over the button which she soon realized would be foolish to press.

Ugh! Who are you kidding, Sunset? You're just gonna space out and probably hang up out of sheer embarrassment! With this theory came a better plan. A text! Duh, you idiot! Send a text!

Alas, composing the beginning of an explanatory statement brought her to an impasse in which she failed to figure out how to phrase answers to any questions Shimmer might want to know. "Dammit!" she cursed in frustration. "Why is this so hard?"

Hence lacking the previous calmness, she fell face first onto her mattress, groaned for a moment, hammered a fist into the sheets, and lifted her head to smash it back where she rested several times before a solution hit back. "Wait a minute, that's it!" New vigor redirected her attention to her device to tap at it for a few seconds and produce something she was positive Shimmer could accept.

'Look, I'm really sorry about earlier; I want to talk to you about this, I swear I do, but it's just so hard. Can we meet at SCC and just try taking things slow? Later in the week when you're next free, I mean.'

Sunset looked over the message only once before deciding it would drive her to wits' end to consider it much longer and sent it in hopes that saying what she said would allay any stress she was experiencing over the incident. Of course, she ended up wrong and still found herself looking over the message over and over -- asking ludicrous questions like, 'Did I come off too upset about it?' 'Was I not upset enough?' 'Should I have started with something less blunt like thanking her for the boots?' or 'Is that a dumb way of saying that? Is she gonna realize how dumb I am after reading that?'

Pacing ensued during this internal interrogation yet Sunset tried to let it go when she reached the fourth query and threw her phone on the bed with a huff. You're being stupid, Sunset, she's not gonna- she doesn't think you're dumb. You just need to ignore it and-

All stress she had was allayed upon her phone's vibrating, her speedy snatching thereof, and her reading a message she'd hoped to receive from the exact person she'd hoped to receive it from.

'There's no need to apologize. I understand. Does Wednesday work for you?'

Shimmer's words plastered a relaxed smile across Sunset's face which only grew as she looked to her boots, sent a quick affirmative response, and flopped onto her bed to toss and turn in glee for a few minutes. Looking back at the swift conversation and reaching a realization increased that glee.

"Hey! That- That's the truth! No it's not, you idiot, that's you dancing around what you actually wanted to say, and what Shimmer wanted to know, by saying something true which was easier for you. Wait, is that progress?"

There was no immediate answer to her question but she chose to believe she was getting somewhere and indulged the giddy sense of accomplishment and joy as much as she could. After all, it had been quite some time since she felt like she was winning anything, and she enjoyed it with a beaming smile right until she fell to sleep that night.

Come the next morning, Sunset was cleaning her face of tears. However, for once, she had another reason beside lachrymal dreaming to do so; she sighed with her hand on the doorknob which turning would lead her outside, glanced to white slippers around her feet, and glared over to her desk -- devoid of Octavia's thermos -- where Shimmer's gift to her stood like a shining statue. Taking them to school might arouse suspicion. People have been paying attention to me, sadly.

Sunset left before any more tears could worm their way out to discover the air temperature was warm. Well, warm in the sense that it was above freezing; though she soon discovered the reason for that warmth being a cloud blanket retaining heat and humidity which rained down during previous days.

Hence, she hastened to Canterlot High while pleading to herself for the sky to retain its water. Some drops did fall despite her wish, but they were so infrequent that she didn't notice.

Dash and Flutter met her at the school's entrance with smiled greetings. Nothing about their following conversations, however, maintained those smiles nor produced any intelligible plans to handle Gilda and Trixie throughout their walking around the school's corridor to spend their shared free period.

Regardless of the melancholy derived from their situation, Sunset took solace in navigating the halls with people she could tolerate rather than being tugged around by who she considered a manic psychopath finding delight in others' -- specifically her -- anguish. Knowing that didn't stop students from digging into her with stares, though, but it gave peace.

Until somebody slammed her into the floor, anyway.

"Hey!" Dash called as Flutter offered Sunset a hand which was refused.

"So sorry," the perpetrating student apologized in clear sarcasm whilst leaving. "Didn't see you there." Kids are getting bolder. This isn't good. Sunset reigned in any emotions, brushed the encounter off, stood, and continued toward class like nothing happened.

Rainbow followed with a furrowed brow and asked, "You're not going to say anything to that jerk?"

"It wouldn't change anything, and antagonizing them is just gonna make things worse. Besides, I was that jerk; I deserve it and you know that. Anyway ... " Sunset paused to listen to the dismissal bell -- signalling the end of their free period -- and point to a fine, wood door. "This is my stop. I'll catch you later." Both of her friends watched students file out of the door for a time with blank stares.

Rainbow soon opened her mouth but Sunset stepped into the room before the athlete could say anything beyond a low, "Still ... "

Classes went as they had been for Sunset but something anger and curiosity inspiring caught her eye as she approached the cafeteria with Applejack for lunch; off to one side, far enough to be inaudible -- at least through other students -- Sunset saw Trixie smash a fist into a locker and storm off. Trixie? Angry? Why? Could it be a trap? Yeah, but what if it's not?

Of course, Sunset couldn't ignore it and followed out of desire for something. Maybe it was rage, a desire to spite the Lulamoon, or maybe it was just hope to get some insight about what she was after.

"Hey, where're you-" Applejack called but was interrupted without hesitation.

"Come. Don't come. I don't care. Just be quiet." Sunset moved toward Trixie's last-known location -- tailed by a confused Applejack -- fast but acted like she was minding her own business to deter any peering eyes' suspicious inferences.

Trixie was turning into the auditorium when Sunset got another visual. Almost no students were around the room, which Sunset found to be a good thing, but that didn't mean the pair could stand around the auditorium doors. Thence, Sunset stopped and turned to Applejack to ask dull questions about classes so it wouldn't look to others like she was waiting for Trixie to be farther from the door.

First, the farmer gave a raised brow but indulged nonetheless until Sunset nodded, gave an, "Okay, cool, cool," and proceeded whence Trixie disappeared. Don't be a trap. Don't be a trap, Sunset begged to herself as she exhaled and relaxed her weight into one of the doors -- thus opening it with minimal noise.

Nothing happened upon entry and nobody was in the open room. Only a distant, receding thudding could be heard. When the pair crept toward it, they realized it hailed from backstage before it stopped.

Most of the pep rally decorations were still up, so Sunset pointed out a perfect hiding spot (the large black curtains) as she hoisted her weight atop the stage with all the speed of a fleeing tortoise. There was a voice's shout before they arrived which only let them move faster as the sound masked their movements. "'What did she say?'" Trixie exclaimed along with another thud, "I'll tell you what she said! She said, 'I don't know what you're talking about.' She played dumb with me! With me! Aaagh!"

Gilda responded after another thud, "I get it! Stop stomping already; we're lucky enough the place is empty for lunch." One more thud came before none followed. "So, she basically doesn't think you're ready?"

"That must be it. After everything I've- Ugh, that ungrateful little-" Trixie cut herself off in a loss of coherency detailed by a string of grumbled curses.

"Do we move against her, then?" Gilda sighed out when the curses ended. Silence answered. "It scares me too, just thinking about it, but do we have another option?" More thudding sounded. However, it was quieter than before and had an ordered cadence to it. Sunset recognized the sound well as somebody pacing.

"Maybe we do. For now, she still thinks I'm on her side, but I'm sick of listening to that self-centered ... Agh, we have to get that damn book from her." Trixie growled.

There was a fast-raised, huffed, "How do we do that? You said she practically chains that thing to herself."

"We have to lay a really perfect trap, but there's only one thing we could use to lure her in and ... Wait a second, you can break us into the school. Is that right?" Soft humming alternated between low and high before an answer came.

"Yeah, but Celestia's already on my case a little. We'd have to do it on the weekend."

Before Gilda could say anything else, Trixie laughed, "That's perfect. All I need to do is get my hands on those records, but she sometimes leaves things in the Council office over the weekend and that might give us more ammo. With that, and the element of surprise, I think we can do this!"

"Saturday morning, then?"

"Saturday morning."

'Council office?' 'Self-centered ... ' There's only one person she could be talking about. Sunset pieced things together as she listened to the sound of Gilda and Trixie shuffling away. Either schemer could be felt just beyond the curtain shielding her from view, she held her breath, and it seemed an eternity before they took a few fading steps to the auditorium doors.

Minutes passed after they were gone before Sunset peaked out and stepped onto the stage with a heavy exhale. "What the hell do those maniacs want? What could possibly motivate them to blackmail Octavia?"

Applejack raised a brow, shook her head, and rolled her eyes before deadpanning to Sunset, "Gee, I don't think I'm the person to ask; seems to me that yer the expert on sneaking around and plottin' how to get where you want by hurtin' others. What motivated you to do the same thing?"

"I didn't- I'm not- This isn't the same!" Sunset flailed her hands above her head. Is it? "Doing anything for years will make you good at it. I don't do that anymore!" she defended herself before realizing it was in vain and moving on. "Well, she's obviously got something they want, but that's way too general." She dropped her hands atop her head, slid them to rest at her sides, and started toward the exit. "Either way, I'm going to have to have a chat with Octavia."

School continued without incident as Sunset sought the councilor. However, it was Octavia who located her right when she left calculus; Sunset locked eyes with a purple-colored rock face before it turned away and departed toward the library. Aha, got you. Perfect timing. From the other direction, she noted three of her friends approaching as per security reasons, but she chased after Octavia anyway and sent them a message when she made it to the library saying she would meet them out front soon.

Octavia was, as one might in a library, returning a small stack of books when Sunset reached her. "I trust you have my things?" she asked without making eye contact before wandering to an otherwise student-devoid bookshelf -- a perfect spot for sensitive discourse.

No way she ... You know, I wouldn't actually be surprised. "Of course," Sunset began whilst retrieving the prior-cleaned, lent belongings from her backpack and offering them. "I wouldn't dream of stealing them."

Shooting Sunset a raised brow, Octavia took the items, neutralized her features, and thanked in a rather business-like manner, "Yes you would, but much obliged." She added after a moment of continued staring, "Was there something you needed?"

"Ahem," Sunset cleared her throat and considered what to say; though it soon became apparent that whatever method she employed to broach her chosen topic was irrelevant. "Well, I had been looking for you to-"

"Warn me about Gilda and Trixie's recent ideas?" the councilor interrupted and returned her gaze to the bookshelf like what she was talking about meant nothing. She knows, Sunset laughed sarcasm to herself. She knows because Octavia just ...

Avoiding attempting hiding astonishment, Sunset asked in as quiet a voice as she could manage, "How -- stars a- fucking -bove -- could you-"

"I prefer being where exciting things are happening." Octavia removed a book only to replace it with a low hum. "Did you think you were the only ones in the auditorium keeping an eye on those two?" Unbelievable. One possibility which Sunset was beginning to suspect as the only reasonable explanation came to mind.

"Is there-" she advanced toward the councilor and narrowed her eyes while raising a twirling hand. "-I dunno, some kind of magic at play here that I don't know about? I mean, I thought I was decent at this espionage thing, but you ... " Seem omniscient. To this, Octavia was unfazed; she almost acted like she didn't hear the question as she selected a book, removed it from the shelf, and nestled it in one arm before continuing to browse the bookshelf's contents.

Sunset prepared to say something else but Octavia at last answered, "To the ignorant and unskilled, 'true skill,' is a phrase interchangeable with 'magic'." Lacking emotion in her face again, she looked at Sunset. "If you were going to tell the faculty about this weekend, I request you do not."

Wha- Sunset shook her head after momentary confusion and prodded for another answer in lieu of one to the question, 'Why not?' "They want some book of yours. What's that about?"

"Should I tell you that, I would then be bereft of anything to entice your assistance later through curiosity. Just come to the music room on Monday. However, I imagine Trixie to strike on Tuesday since it is the solstice; she likes to be dramatic like that."

Leverage arrived in Sunset's hand with that. Hence, she pressed, "Why don't I just hinder whatever convoluted scheme you have by tipping the faculty off if you don't tell me right now?"

There was still no sign of emotion or dissuasion in the councilor's face as she remarked with speed only possible from a person who considered this possible reaction from Sunset, "Because then I would refuse to tell you where you can dig up a little more on Trixie and Gilda." Oh. No amount of idle curiosity about why Trixie was upset with Octavia could've kept Sunset from indulging such information to exact retribution.

"Okay, you have my attention."

"What about your compliance?"

" ... that too."

"In the Council office, to the hard left, there is a gray filing cabinet with childish stickers all over it. Take the bottom drawer of that cabinet all the way out and pry the very back wall's edges with something flat, thin, and strong until it pops out; behind it is a listing of all the school's lockers and their corresponding combinations. Please only take what you need and replace the list, and do not snoop. Is that enough for you?"

What! Sunset took a step back -- stunned. "Wha-wha- Why does the Student Council have something like that?" she, ignoring Octavia's query, questioned.

Despite Sunset's minor panic, Octavia shrugged and looked back at the bookshelf. "Nobody but me knows about it." That doesn't make it o- Wait a second.

"You copied that list and put it there, didn't you?" Snapping to meet Sunset's, purple eyes became slim, dangerous needles warning against being on their business end as Octavia jabbed an index finger and took a threatening step toward the other party -- who stiffened but refused to back down. There was a stark contrast between stoic Octavia and her less reigned-in self.

"Did I lose all sense of compassion and reason on a corruption trip?" the councilor scolded with another, this one heavier, step. "Did I humiliate, torment, and disrespect myself and others to get where I wanted?" Sunset broke the stare and brought fingers over her bottom lip at this, but Octavia continued nonetheless -- placing a foot so it rested atop poorly-protected toes with a soft, cautioning push downward -- through grit teeth, "Did I become an actual monster hell bent on gaining power? Was it me, or someone else? Please, do remind me. I seem to have forgotten."

'Monster' was a word which Octavia fired deep into Sunset's mind thus detonating a series of emotional explosions. Alas, the assault was more than sufficient to make Sunset stumble back and yield ground. "Uh ... " she started composing some retort but Octavia offered an out she was happy to take instead.

"I think this conversation has reached every point it needed to. Shoo, and do remember: I said 'twice a week' pertaining to our chess games. There are only three days left in this week."

Any asinine apprehension abandoned Sunset in her escape of the interaction and her quiet, dismissing, "Right." 'Monster.' Why does that bother you? You are a monster.

The word repeated itself to her all the way to where her five friends were waiting. Some of them had impatient expressions but they became concerned ones when a paling Sunset arrived. "Dear," Rarity asked, "Are you okay? You look dreadful; did something ... happen?"

Rainbow punched a fist into a palm and growled, "Ugh, what did that rat do?" Gilda and Trixie did nothing. This one is ... all my fault. For a split second, Sunset considered saying just that, but something else came out.

"No I didn't run into Gilda; I just ... feel bad. Maybe I am coming down with a cold after the other day. Could I ... get a ride home?" It wasn't a complete lie. Still, it was enough to leave a bitter taste on her tongue. 'Such a good liar.' 'Someone's covering that hole to keep monsters like you away.'

"Of course! Come on." Rarity offered almost the moment Sunset asked.

It's just a word; it doesn't define you. No, words don't, but they are labels to describe things, and you just so happen to fit the bill on 'monster'. An internal battle waged between a part of Sunset which recognized facts, and one which tried to forget the past, well passed when she walked into her room.

Shimmer's gift greeted her like it was smiling and prompted a knee-jerked thought. You don't deserve those! That's a literal embodiment of consideration and compassion!

Conscripting bewilderment, she plopped onto her bed -- facing away from the boots -- and looked to hands which were shaking while her stomach churned. She then fell onto her back like she couldn't hold herself up anymore, placed either trembling hand over her heart, and turned to one side so she could curl up.

You're not a monster ... anymore; you can be kind and compassionate an-and you can be honest! You'll prove it when you see Shimmer tomorrow.

At least, that's what she told herself. Not that it stopped tears from falling a few seconds later.

Author's Note

Would Sunset use a semicolon in a text? I'm the only person I've ever come across who does that, so I'm guessing not?

But they just look dope and people hardly use 'em and they deserve more love ...

Anyway, that satisfied my need to prove that I could still write a 5k or fewer word chapter. Was it a satisfying chapter, though?

...

I foresee a complete overhaul upon this story's completion.

19 ~ Changing Tone

Alright, you can do this. Just be patient, don't push, and put together what to say before you say it. Shimmer prepared herself to speak with her counterpart by taking a deep breath as she pushed Sugar Cube Corner's entrance doors open and discovered few patrons -- none of who were Sunset.

This calmed her nerves for a time; though, as she found a seat in one of the shop's few windowed booths, she realized there was no reason for nervousness and awaited Sunset in patience joined by anticipation for progress. Every time the store's doors opened, she turned her head a bit to look (she faced the entrance) yet became disappointed. Did I get here early? No, this is right; I guess she's gonna be late.

Fifteen minutes passed before Sunset appeared. Any trepidation or fear within Shimmer vanished at this moment in place of surprised sorrow; Sunset walked straight and tall with her school bag over a shoulder but she was sluggish, exhausted ... beleaguered, and perhaps sick.

However, she reached Shimmer and apologized with an unstrained -- complete yet lacking in power or projection -- voice, "Sorry I'm late; I got held up." By someone harassing you, I presume.

Although Shimmer wanted to avoid pressing for information, she also wanted to ensure nothing serious happened, so she asked what first occurred to her. "It wasn't Gilda, was it? Did they want something?" Following a shaken head, Sunset tossed her bag onto the booth's table, sat opposite Shimmer -- who noticed at this point that Sunset was wearing her slippers -- rubbed her eyes, and rested her head on a palm.

"No," Sunset huffed. "It wasn't like that. They just wanted a chance to yell at me."

Shimmer hummed but couldn't find anything to say about the subject which didn't seem prying, nor did she believe her counterpart wished to dwell on the interaction. Hence, she decided to switch topics with curiosity on another note. "You're not wearing your boots?" This query caused Sunset to move her face from her hand at a speed implying shock.

"Oh! Uh ... force of habit, I guess?"

'Force of habit'? I thought they would stand out to you a little more. There appeared no reason to question the statement aloud, so Shimmer shrugged it off to forget. Until, that is, Sunset's lips pressed together, her hands dropped beneath the table, and she started glaring into the surface. Are you ... ? Unintelligible noises answered before Sunset constructed words.

"Mmm ... Ehhh ... Rrr ... Gah! I did- didn't- I don't- Just ... Agh!" Clear anger developed on Sunset's face as she started heaving heavy breaths one after another to an unhealthy degree. Okay.

Remembering what Sunset said about incoherent garble, Shimmer raised both hands in front of her face, pushed the air between them downward a few times, and caught Sunset's attention by instructing, "Sunset. Calm. Down. It's okay. you don't have to stress yourself; we have the entire afternoon, so just take things slowly like you said. I'm not gonna press you or judge you. Just take your time."

Stertorous breathing continued but ended after a momentary cycle of Sunset glancing from Shimmer's raised hands to her eyes and back. Neither spoke for a minute. Shimmer just waited for Sunset to collect herself and create proper sentences -- which she accomplished after a couple sighs.

"I'm sorry, Shimmer." she apologized for the second time during that conversation and apologized again right after. "I'm really, really sorry. I ... d-don't mean to lie to you, and I d-don't have any reason to either!" She's trying. That's progress. "I mean, other than th-that I'm scared for no reason ... an-and I want to tell you the truth. About it all, I swear! Just, it's so stupidly hard sometimes, but I want to- I can! Honestly, you're right! It's- It should be easy. I-I-I just-"

"Sunset," Shimmer interrupted with a cutting tone, "I have a feeling I understand, and I believe you. Just take it at your own pace, okay?"

"Right. My own pace. I can do that. And I can tell you the truth."

Hm, I'm getting this feeling like you're not saying this to convince me.

Uncertain silence subsumed the store's booth as Shimmer allowed Sunset plenty of time to stage things the way she wanted. It took a couple minutes, but Shimmer was patient and things finally progressed; they just, to her dismay, progressed in the form of more gibberish.

"Sss- Mm, er, uhh ... " Trying again? This is pretty depressing to watch but I can do it for you if that's what you need. "Duhh, 's ahh ... Hmm ... " Sunset's face tensed into frustration before she finally exhaled and stopped holding her head up so it could fall face first onto the table. "Uh-hu-uugh." Can't do it yet? Patience, Shimmer, be patient. Even if you can't imagine why this is so difficult for her, you can be here.

After this thought, Sunset lifted her head back up, drummed her fingers on the table, and pressed her lips together again whilst darting her gaze from Shimmer's to the window and back like she was trying to determine whether shutting up was a better practice.

Okay, let's see if I can't help you relax a little, but how how h- Ah.

"Could you eat?" Shimmer attempted to broach a subject which might be easier than whatever Sunset was failing to tackle.

Alas, Sunset met the question with a puzzled, "What?" rather than an answer.

"Could you eat?" Shimmer repeated. "I mean, the place is called 'Sugar Cube Corner'. I was thinking about getting a scone or something. Would you like anything?" Two hands waved along with a shaken head before a real answer was verbalized.

"Oh, no, you don't have to-"

"Shh sh, I want to. I insist; just name something you like and I'll see if they've got it or anything close." Confusion reigned on Sunset's face and she opened her mouth with a finger raised in obvious preparation to protest farther, but Shimmer urged more before anything else could be said. "C'mon, my treat. Who says 'no' to something they'd enjoy? It'll make things easier. I'm positive."

Quiet thought replaced Sunset's earlier confusion. "I guess ... " she acquiesced in a muted tone. " ... something strawberry? I dunno, a slice of cake?"

Strawberry cake. That's easy; no pâtissière worth their ... sugar wouldn't have that. Unless they were sold out, anyway. Giving a gentle smile, Shimmer stood out of the booth, assured, "Alright, I'll be right back." and moved away from Sunset fast with intent to return post haste.

Nobody was at the store's counter when she arrived. Of course, there was a small bell placed atop it designed for people to notify employees of customers, but Shimmer found such a system quite rude -- an insult to the work of those who busied themselves by making products others could enjoy without taking the necessary time and energy to manufacture the good with their own hands -- and was content to wait the two requisite minutes for Pinkie to walk out of the back room with a large tray of recently-prepared (probably by her) cupcakes. Besides, waiting gave Shimmer ample time to analyze a rather-extensive menu and ascertain accurate information to enunciate her wishes.

"Hiya Pinkie," she greeted with a bright smile before commenting, "You sure work here a lot."

The store's current clerk placed the cupcake tray in a glass display to the counter's side and returned, with a larger grin that Shimmer dared not contest due to fear of pulling a muscle, "Heya Shimmer!" Recognized me pretty quick. "Yepsies, here is what I love to do: bake! One day I'm gonna take it over or own my own!" Pinkie paused to look over Shimmer's shoulder. "I was about to say, 'I'm surprised to see you here alone,' but now I see Sunset back there."

Weird implications came to Shimmer at this comment, but she dismissed them as illogical conclusions and continued with her task. "Guess this is a nice place to talk. Can we get two slices of chocolate-strawberry cake and a blueberry scone, please?"

"'Course! It's kinda funny to see you both into strawberry like that."

Hearing this whilst Pinkie went about procuring the requested treats, Shimmer vocalized an instant curiosity. "What do you mean? I only have strawberry every now and again. I mean, it's okay, but I wouldn't call it my favorite." I just got it because I thought Sunset might feel more comfortable if I did, actually.

"Oh," Pinkie answered after a giggle and a tilted head while placing Shimmer's order on the counter, "Sorry, sorry. It's just that, whenever Sunset gets something here: it's always got strawberry one way or another. Without fail." Oh. Shimmer considered this for mere seconds before she paid and Pinkie dismissed her with a request. "Say 'hi' to Sunset for me."

"Why don't you say 'hi' to her yourself?"

No response came after a hummed, "Uh," from Pinkie for a moment while her ever-bright smile dimmed. "Well," she coughed out, "It would be bad service to leave the front. Never know when someone's gonna surprise you for a cupcake! Or, I guess this time, actual cake!" Say no more. I think I get it.

"Of course," Shimmer thanked the baker and turned away only to turn back so she could satiate her desire to understand an oddity she noticed before. "How'd you know it was me so fast and not Sunset?"

Pinkie was focused on searching for something but stopped to give the swift answer, "Oh that's easy; Sunset doesn't greet people like you: all polite and stuff and with smiles. Actually, I don't think I've ever seen her smile unless she was ... being mean or ... doing mean things and laughing about it." What, that's not- Wait, have I ever seen Sunset smile? For anything? Maybe there was a laugh or two?

To the statement and realization, Shimmer couldn't find anything to say about the matter so, instead, gave a lengthy hum and left the counter with two forks and dessert-bearing, ceramic plates.

Sunset was precisely how Shimmer left her -- with the same downtrodden demeanor she had prior. Either plate was placed on either end of the table (the one which held a scone was put in front of Shimmer's seat), there was a muttered, "Thanks," from Sunset, and Shimmer reclaimed her position opposite her counterpart.

Moments passed where Sunset did little more than stare at the cake, but soon started eating in silence. There were some satisfied hums which Shimmer couldn't help smiling at despite them being few and far between as she enjoyed her own cake. However, she was jarred from the quiet when Sunset asked a question which proved both pragmatic and unexpected.

"Why don't you ... tell me about you?"

"Huh?" Shimmer's first reaction made it to speech.

"I mean, I gave you quite a chunk -- albeit pretty vague -- about my life, but I know almost nothing about you." That makes sense. I guess I shouldn't have asked to receive and expected much without giving.

Recognizing Sunset's reasoning, Shimmer started, "Well," but stopped to think of a proper answer. "There's not much to tell. I grew up on the other side of the country, drifted through a pretty standard school, still haven't found anything I want to dedicate myself to -- not that that's a surprise ... I've pretty much been looking for something like that forever." She paused and, while shrugging one arm up slowly, let out a long, "Ehhh," before continuing, "Sure, sometimes I saw what others were doing and thought, 'that looks really interesting,' but I never got into those things or, Hell, could even work up the courage to go ask them about it. Making friends has always been a big challenge for me."

Clank went Sunset's fork as she dropped it onto her plate at this. "I can't-" she said but cut herself off. There was a moment where she again opened her mouth yet nothing came out. Then, she seemed to find what she wanted to say after shaking her head. "I find that difficult to believe; it seems like you're a lot ... friendlier than I've ever been. I mean, you just got me cake because you thought it would make things easier. I know I'm probably unqualified to say this, but: that seems like something someone who was really good at making friends would do."

What? Shimmer's own fork met her plate at these words which ... perplexed her. I guess you're right, but still ... It's not like I've ever done things like this for others. Just you. Because, uh ... Because ... Why? Maybe because I can talk to you? 'Cause you look like me? That's gotta be it ... probably ... or ... I dunno!

"Uh," she tried to explain herself and brought a finger to scratch her temple. "Well, I've never really done this before. It never seemed ... right, I guess." After a slow nod, Sunset requested elaboration on a previous point.

"You said you grew up on the other side of the country. What made you move out here?" Most of Sunset's cake when she asked this was eaten, and she retrieved her fork to continue picking at it, to Shimmer's delight, while the human-born girl figured out how to state a reply.

Just come right out with it and move on, Shimmer. "Uhm," she proceeded whilst resting either forearm on the table and leaning forward, "My parents started getting pretty sick, so we moved out here to stay with one of their old friends, who's a doctor ... among other things."

Eating stopped when Sunset swallowed the last bite of her cake, shuffled in her seat, and let out an, "Oh," before swallowing again. "I'm ... Uh, that must be pretty rough. I'm sorry."

"Don't be. It's not all bad; I got pulled out of school -- which wasn't much fun anyway -- and I ran into you ... " Shimmer was making words without much thought, chastised herself for it, and quickly added to distract from anything strange she was saying, " ... and learn about this whole world I never would've known existed otherwise, so ... I should thank you for, uh, giving me something exciting to put my attention towards."

Nothing came from Sunset in response -- just the sound of a fork being fiddled with over an empty plate -- until she locked eyes with Shimmer and about whispered, "Oh, I guess you're, eh, welcome?"

Stifling a laugh, Shimmer gave a wide grin which wasn't returned before inquiring, "Was there anything else you wanted to know in specific?" Humming, Sunset brought a finger to her chin and tapped it for a second preceding a swift snap.

"Ah, yes. I was wondering: why were you here -- in Canterlot at that park -- that night?"

With this, Shimmer raised an immediate suspicion. "You weren't happy to run into me, were you?"

Sunset rolled her eyes. "Okay, no I was not. Emphasis on 'was'. You almost hindered my escape."

"From your friends?" Shimmer interjected.

"It's complicated. Wait, no it's not. They dragged me out to a show, I got recognized by people who don't like me, they chased, I got away, then I ran into Rainbow and ran from her out of spite, so no I was not happy to faceplant into you. Again, though, that was then."

Raising a brow, Shimmer wondered aloud, "And now?"

Quiet seconds passed before Sunset shifted her weight back and forth a few times and answered, "Now I realize that you're probably the least intolerable person I know."

"Aw." Shimmer tossed a hand over her chest. "That must've really come from the heart; I'm touched."

Sunset rolled her eyes again and crossed a leg over it's counterpart before trying to move on. "Yes, yes, what about my question?" Wait, I need to enjoy this a moment longer.

Employing faked, choked-up speech, Shimmer moved her non-heart-covering hand to dig an index finger into a tear duct and joked, "H-hang on, I'm just so moved. I think there's ... s-something in my eye." Instead of being amused, Sunset crossed her arms, glanced upward, and shook her head.

"You're ridiculous." she huffed.

No smile, okay, Shimmer thought but ended up chuckling nonetheless before explaining, "I came here because I- Hang on, let me go back; see, when I was younger, I had this violin that I really liked playing. The tone was beautiful so I practiced quite a lot, but I ended up breaking it and I never really cared to get back into it." Noise came from beneath the table as Sunset uncrossed her legs and leaned closer with a tilted head. Glad to see you looking at me a lot more. Dismissing the internal note, Shimmer continued, "Anyway, I read about this music store here that's open on Sundays and went there that night to check it out."

Placing her elbows on the table and resting her head on either palm, Sunset blurted out, "'Violin'? I don't think I've heard that one before." This, Shimmer -- regarding the violin as one of the most mystifying instruments ever made -- was shocked to hear.

"What? That needs to be remedied; it's no wonder you got all mean if that's the case! I'd say to look up some pieces, they'd be amazing, but there's nothing like hearing it in person. I'll have to play it for you when I get one again." Shimmer froze after listening to what she said. Shit. Was that rude? I shouldn't have said it like that. Concern smacked her like a swarm of bugs on a speeding car's windshield.

Making matters worse was Sunset's silence; she continued resting her head atop her hands but closed her eyes with a low, continuous hum which scared Shimmer into deliberating what she did and what to do.

Ugh, I can't take back how I said that. Oh my- Shimmer you- she panicked inside, heart beginning to race, before a possible solution struck. You should just apologize before she ...

Sunset's eyes popped open and she made Shimmer realize that she was worrying over nothing by saying, "Alright, I'll look forward to it." in a tone which harbored no annoyance whatsoever. Eye contact was broken, Shimmer turned to her half-eaten cake, took a shallow breath, and picked at it with her fork for a moment to calm herself. Maybe avoid talking about how she got all evil, but don't freak out. It's just a conversation. A simple ... conversation between ... friends. Relax and be yourself. It's nothing worthy of panicking.

Looking to Sunset again revealed that the girl's lips were again pressed and she was looking to hands which were squeezed together on the table. She's trying again. Should I- Before she could think or consider any ramifications, Shimmer's mouth moved.

"Sunset, I know what it's like to feel like you can't say what you want, but I know that you can do it and you'll feel a million times better when you do." Dammit, Shimmer! Why did you do that? You've just put pressure on her, that's all! Regardless of her reflections, it was said and there was nothing she could do to change that. All she figured was reasonable by then was to shut up and see what would happen.

Quiet was first. Following was a strong, prepared-for-anything stare and a raised finger from Sunset. Last, she opened her mouth, breathed in, and ... that was is. No words were given life by that breath; it was just inhalation preceding containment of the taken air, and Sunset's features transformed from expressions of determination to fear, to anger, and settled on sadness. Gah, you moron! She wouldn't be so hurt by it if you didn't try to encourage her. Stupid, stupid, stupid!

Whilst Shimmer scolded herself for impulsiveness, Sunset dropped her head onto the table and protected her face from sight by any angle -- using her arms as defenders. Look what you did, you idiot. Fix it ... somehow.

"H-hey," Shimmer started while, without thinking, reaching to place a hand on Sunset's right forearm. However, after feeling Sunset's leather jacket for a second, she remembered what happened the previous time she did something like that and pulled away. Worrying about how to cheer Sunset up clouded her attention from observing that Sunset hadn't reacted to the touch at all. "Do you, uh, play any instruments?" Shimmer tried to redirect the conversation to its prior topic.

Groaning, Sunset raised her head to support it by either temple but didn't answer. Instead, she stared at the table and heaved three long breaths. Each moment Shimmer waited in the silence was another which barraged her with a feeling of pure failure and incompetence. Hope that the conversation could be salvaged, however, came as Sunset accepted the subject return.

"No," she yielded. "I played guitar for a few months after I got situated here, but it was only to help me get better at using these to do things rather than magic." She lifted her head so she could wiggle her fingers for Shimmer to understand the implication.

Of course, Curiosity about Sunset's home dimension sowed itself into Shimmer's focus with the statement and little else in the way of small talk occurred to her, yet asking Sunset about it might've triggered another discomfort regarding truth. What do I do? What do I say? How do I- Shimmer was startled from thinking when Sunset smacked the table and offered -- desperation devouring her demeanor like she was grasping for straws to climb with -- exactly what Shimmer wanted.

"Do you- Y-you do wanna hear about where I'm from, right?"

"Uhm," Shimmer began responding with words but decided nodding was less risky.

"Okay, I'm gonna give you- W-well, I'm gonna try to explain it so you get the general idea."

Ten minutes later, Shimmer's mind was a swarm of the phrase, 'What the Hell did I just hear?' repeating like a hungry house cat's meows. Five minutes more passed before she put things together enough to clarify, "So, let me make sure I have this straight; you were originally a quadruped who used magic or slippery ... hooves to accomplish stuff and manipulate the environment?"

"Hands are better." Sunset laid out while nodding. "Well, maybe not better than magic, but they're really good at, like, picking up and holding things."

Need a minute to wrap my head around this.

Either girl sat in silence for a while, Sunset giving Shimmer time to do just that, but the dimensional interloper finally broke the silence with an insecure-sounding, "You don't believe me?"

Aerick's words, 'I've 'eard an' seen weirder from tha' science-y lass in tha' cabin down yonder.' came back to support Shimmer's adaptability capacity. Ignore any questions, Shimmer, now is not the time. Relaxing herself and placing her hands on the table, Shimmer assured, "It's a pretty big bomb to drop; I'll want to get more evidence of all this later, but I'll give you the benefit of the doubt for now."

"Whew," Sunset sighed to this, closed her eyes, and leaned back against the booth's divider with a hand over her diaphragm. Shimmer noted this relief but sought to continue the conversation both to distract herself and move to new territory. However, her method wasn't far away and ended up as a question she was only somewhat sure wouldn't panic Sunset.

"Uh, I don't mean to pry or dwell, but: do you think you'll ever go back?"

Tick went Sunset's tongue as it clicked against the roof of her mouth. She glanced at her hands, curled and uncurled their digits a few times, and turned her attention toward her empty plate before answering, "I hope I don't. I don't want to."

"Despite magic?"

"Despite magic. Things here, people here ... They make more sense in a lot of ways. Besides, this place has magic of its own sort -- a lot of which I definitely have yet to learn about; like, maybe, the violin will turn out to be one example."

Shimmer interjected again, "I promise you: it will be."

Alas, where Shimmer was expecting a grin or a chuckle or ... some expression of joy, all she got was her counterpart's head tilted toward her before Sunset continued, "Maybe I'll visit again one day, but I don't think I'll ever want to live there again." Disregarding her failure, Shimmer smiled at this answer for selfish reasons more than anything else.

Presuming every detail Sunset had thenceforth given was true, which could be tested as things progressed, Shimmer would have someone she could talk to -- really talk to; she was finding being around and conversing with someone else to be rather delightful in essence.

Not that, of course, she couldn't do that with others, but she wasn't so nervous around Sunset for some reason she wasn't certain of, she didn't freak out as much as she generally did in interactions more complex than quick greetings, and she felt more natural during their discourse than with anyone else -- even family members sometimes made her panic. Again, probably because she looks like me, but I'll take it.

"I suppose you should be able to and choose whatever makes you happy." she remarked whilst drawing conclusions. Not that you being here doesn't make me happy. 'Cause it has been. Should I say that? No, I don't think so; that's weird. Hell, I'm not sure I could.

Yanking Shimmer from thought, Sunset retorted, "Not sure I would go so far as to say 'happy'. Maybe 'happier' is accurate. Things here are just a little more sensible. People are ... giving me ... " Sunset stopped to hug herself, shut her eyes, and puff out some air before continuing so quiet that Shimmer leaned in to ensure audibility. " ... more of what I deserve."

Every faculty of Shimmer's consciousness worked to replay and analyze those words. What? 'What you des-' That's ... Something she wanted to express for some time, but never found the words or courage to, bubbled to the surface of her being in an adamant display; she abandoned any semblance of restraint, smacked a fist onto the table, and stood in an awkward manner over the surface. Had these acts failed to catch Sunset's attention, Shimmer demanding attention with, "Sunset," in a 'listen-to-me-very-carefully' tone unequivocally succeeded.

"That's ... wrong." she declared. "That is so wrong; it's unacceptable! Twisted! Misconstrued justice is what it is!" Words preceded Shimmer's thought. Though she hated the idea, she trusted they were manufactured in her subconscious days ago. "People- Nobody- You don't deserve to be treated how you're being treated. Look, I understand why you, and probably the other's you've wounded, think you do, but it's immoral! Perhaps you did terrible things. Who cares? That's not the important part -- at least to me. What's importan- no, imperative is that you realize what you did and why it was horrible, an-and that you want to change."

Sunset's gaze darted from side to side at a speed which broadcasted confusion, so Shimmer elaborated.

"Maybe you deserve some kind of karmic punishment or something, but come on! You can hardly tell the truth, people cast you out left and right, you're so angry with yourself that you're afraid to ruin anything else, just trying seems to scare you, and it's tearing you apart inside -- which has been argued to be worse than physical trauma! Isn't that punishment enough?"

Stopping shifting her gaze, Sunset settled on looking to the rest of the store like she was checking to see if Shimmer was causing a scene. Not that Shimmer thought it mattered if she was -- this is important, dammit! -- but she contained her volume regardless, stepped around the table, and sat right next to Sunset.

From there, it made eye contact far more challenging for Sunset to ignore while Shimmer went on, "Listen, if I stole from you, realized it was wrong, and gave you back what I took, what would happen if you got so angry with me that you started stealing from me and harassing me for that mistake?" Sunset looked to the table for a second and opened her mouth, but she ended up returning to Shimmer's gaze and shutting it with a covering hand. "Don't you think that, if it went on long enough, I might steal -- or do something extreme -- to you just to inflict some suffering on you for my own relief? Then wouldn't the cycle repeat itself?"

There was a chain of disconnected hums and incomplete ideas as Sunset lowered her hand before she muttered, "I didn't- I ... never thought of it that way; it just made sense that I deserve this."

"I figured as much." Shimmer scooted closer and pressed her case. "That's why I said that to you." At least that's why I think I said that to you. "Sure, a lot of people aren't happy with you and it'll take a lot of time before things seem ... fixed. Sure, it'll be hard to deal with, and, sure, you probably feel like it's all on you." She leaned in just a little closer. "But, despite that you probably feel like the loneliest person in the world right now, you're not alone. I'll be here and try to do what I can, and your friends will warm up to you soon enough. Others too. I'm certain. You'll just have to exemplify the change you want to see in yourself and them, and it'll take time."

Saying this elicited a jerking back from Sunset and wide eyes. First, Shimmer worried that she said something wrong, but Sunset alleviated that fear fast -- indicating the reason for surprise as a positive one -- by stammering, "I can't- don't- H-how do I ... Th-thank you, Shimmer; it means a lot to hear that."

Grinning in response, Shimmer sat straight, thus making more distance between the pair, and enjoyed silence before cognizing her proximity to Sunset. Well, I don't need to sit here anymore. Although Shimmer kept her smile as she slid from the seat and returned to her prior location, she noted that sitting by Sunset was comfortable and being on the other end of the table wasn't necessarily a welcome change.

"Sh-Shimmer?" Sunset coughing and addressing her took her mind from the idea.

"Yes?" Shimmer urged without realizing what she was doing until Sunset's posture tensed and she proceeded.

"I-I uhh ... mmm ... " Really, we can talk again in the future. You don't have to do this to yourself. Right when Shimmer was about to raise this very point, she received a speedy, spoken-in-one-breath, "Ididn'twearyourbootsbecauseIdon'tthinkIdeservethem." Following the statement, which Shimmer had to meditate on quite a bit to grasp, Sunset heaved one breath after another and added, "T-that's ... part of it, anyway." 'Part of it'? Ho-ho-hold the phone, Shimmer, start with what you've got.

After resting her forearms on the table's edge and clasping her hands, Shimmer said, "Oh," and began forming a response. Drafting that response, however, became pressured by Sunset looking at her with a shaking, pleading expression, but Shimmer constructed something clear nonetheless. "I said I wouldn't judge you, so relax." Instantly Sunset did so. "Alright, why not stop thinking about whether or not you do deserve things?"

"Huh?" Sunset input as she tilted her head.

"Instead, put on the boots and let them serve as a reminder for you to think, 'If I did deserve these, what kind of person would I be? How would I act?' Does that make sense?"

Silence preceded a slow nod and a hum in response. Shimmer flashed another smile -- this one intended to be encouraging -- but received no such expression in return. Come on, what do I have to do to get a smile out of you? Oh, that's gotta do it. Widening her grin and leaning toward Sunset, Shimmer stated, "Sunset, you did it." Still, Sunset's lips did not curl up.

"Yeah ... I guess so."

Really! You've been trying to say that this whole time and now that you finally have it doesn't make you slightly happy enough to show it? Annoyance grabbed Shimmer but it was replaced by realization a second later. Duh, that's not the whole truth; that's why she said 'part of it, anyway'. Ugh, I'm gonna need a ton more patience than I thought. She hid her irritation by looking out the window and making a basic observation.

"Look at that, we're getting a stretch of warm before proper winter; it's starting to rain."

"It is?" Sunset almost jumped out of her seat at the mention. "I've gotta leave before it comes down too much."

Noting the hasty departure's start, Shimmer raised a brow and asked herself two questions -- only one of which had an immediate answer. You say that like ... Do you not have an umbrella or something? Should I offer a ride? No, now's not the time, but maybe ... She cleared her throat and asked, "Do you want to borrow an umbrella?"

"Nah, I'm alright." Impatience lined Sunset's voice as she retrieved her bag, plate, cutlery, and began toward the shop's exit -- where a chest-high receptacle waited for used dishes. What's the hur- Shimmer's mind was wrenched from wondering anything when Sunset spun on her heel, not two steps from the table, and asked something Shimmer didn't expect, was ecstatic to hear, and could only lead to one other question. "Shimmer, are you ... doing anything tomorrow?"

"N-not that I'm aware of. Why?" Of course, not that she did a good job, Shimmer tried hiding her excitement over the implication.

Sunset didn't make her wait; she doled out, "Would you ... wanna do this tomorrow? Same time. Same place? Assuming the weather's not ... bad, anyway." like she was dealing cards and stopped a few times to ensure she had the counting correct.

Null consideration delayed Shimmer's too-fast-for-her-liking, somewhat-loud, "Yes! Definitely! Of course!" Ugh, that sounded way too eager. Despite Shimmer's thoughts, Sunset nodded and left -- leaving her with a big smile and some dessert to finish. Before turning her focus to that, though, she watched Sunset (through windows at the store's front wall) rush away until she could be seen no longer. Even then, Shimmer stared at Sunset's last-seen location for minutes before thinking about anything, or anyone, else. Finally, when she did turn to the cake, her smile lost none of its luster and she had one thought.

That went well. That went really well!

Shimmer stayed in a happy mood through Wednesday and into Thursday; it was only fueled and stoked when she received a responding text from Sunset affirming that they were 'still on for the day'.

Entering Sugar Cube Corner found Shimmer, this time, pushing through the doors in gleeful anticipation rather than apprehension. That glee too increased as she again found few patrons present. Adding even more to her good mood was the availability of the same windowed booth, and she sat where she did yesterday with an uncontainable energy which she expressed by drumming her palms on the table at a volume demonstrating consideration for what few -- and far off -- others enjoyed the shop's pleasant atmosphere.

Sunset was, also reminiscent of yesterday, apparently going to be late, but Shimmer was expecting this and grateful for it since it allowed her time to calm herself. Yesterday's talk made her jovial to an irking degree.

Chill out, Shimmer! You're just talking Sunset again. Maybe you'll make some progress, and maybe not. Who cares? Just be calm and enjoy it. Tremors of excitement refused to listen to her thoughts. Geez, how can I 'chill out'? This is actually something I can do and look forward to seeing evolve! I'm talking to Sunset again, and she actually wants to talk to me!

One thing existed which could kill the intensity of her upbeat attitude; it walked through the shop's door along with Sunset -- suffocating potential and jollity for more than one person -- in the form of an aura of suffering and sorrow overcasting happiness as a massive cloud obfuscating ever-warming, uplifting sunshine.

However, Shimmer noted one thing which contrasted Sunset's worn-out demeanor: she was wearing her boots. Should I ask her about this? She's obviously not sleeping enough and that's the least of her problems, Shimmer wondered but decided prying would be a bad move and said, "Hi," when Sunset approached -- belaying confrontation of any sort.

"Hi," Sunset mimicked in a ticked-off tone while she threw her school bag onto the booth's cushioned seat, sat down, and dropped her temples into her hands. Something tells me you aren't mad at me. I hope, anyway.

Considering the logical reasons for Sunset's frustrations, Shimmer wagered a guess by asking, "Ahem, I'm just gonna bite the bullet here. How was school?"

Muffled groans came but no response followed until Sunset glanced out the window with somewhat-vitreous eyes like the very thing she looked through and said, in monotone, "It was fine." You're ... No way! That has to be a- "Agh!" Sunset snapped her head to Shimmer and growled, confirming the girl's suspicion, "No, it wasn't 'fine'. That was a lie." Do you just resort to lying instinctively before anything else? At least you confessed. "School was awful; it sucked! The students suck, the classes suck, my 'friends' suck ... Dammit, it's just the worst."

Placing an elbow on the table so she could rest her head on a palm, Shimmer waited to ensure Sunset was done whilst pondering what was being said. Okay, this has been going on for a while, so either you're just now snapping or something specific pushed you. Shimmer bet on the latter of her considered possibilities.

"Is it ... " Shimmer hummed, " ... really all that that has you riled up, or was it a particular one of those things?"

At this, Sunset mirrored Shimmer's posture supporting the head on a hand and huffed, "One of those in particular, I guess. Not that those other things don't annoy me."

"Was it Gilda?"

"No," Sunset answered without hesitation while shaking her cradled head. Neither spoke for a moment after this, for Shimmer was expecting more information which wasn't going to come. When she realized this, she leaned toward Sunset, hand and all, and debating asking.

May as well. "What, then?" There was an inhale but no answer.

Instead, Sunset exhaled, lowered her head so her eyes were hidden behind her hand, and delayed, "It'll sound silly if I say it."

Shimmer straightened, placed her hand on the table, then reminded, "I'm not gonna judge, Sunset. Tell me."

"Ugh," Sunset grimaced before leaning back and placing her hands in her lap. She looked up instead of at Shimmer before saying, "It was ... Octavia. I had to play chess with Octavia this morning and it was a royal fucking pain. Well, almost everything about that girl is a royal fucking pain, to be fair."

Wha- Chess? Oh, what's silly isn't what happened; it's how you phrased it. "Playing chess wasn't the pain. Octavia was, right?" Shimmer clarified.

"Yes! Exactly! I'm sick of her!" Curiosity struck Shimmer at this. I know she's intimidating, but ...

"What do you have against her?"

Alarm replaced curiosity as Shimmer watched something she'd become very familiar with after yesterday: Sunset pressing her lips together. However, words, to Shimmer's surprise, instead of incoherence answered, "I ... She-she's the opposite of me; I suck at being honest, but she's brutally honest. Even when she's keeping information from you, she'll tell you she's doing it like you're just not worth the effort. I don't know how else to say it, but it pisses me off."

First, Shimmer was taken aback by the fluency. Then, she thought about what she just witnessed and heard. Hold on. You, 'suck at being honest,' maybe, but that was pretty straightforward for- You just lied to me! 'Brutally honest' is just a generalization you gave me to dance around the truth! You do know how else to say it; you just either don't want to tell me or are scared to! Anger arose but Shimmer dismissed it for remembered patience and waited for another confession. None came.

"So, I'm guessing you're not gonna play chess with her again?" she asked to gauge how eager Sunset would be to move on; it turned out she moved on before a second passed.

"We have this dumb agreement, so I'll have to play with her more."

Do you even know that you just lied and dismissed it? You must, right? I can't- I'm gonna- No, Shimmer, do not confront her about it right now. Be patient. Play along. We'll get there. Before Shimmer could comment, Sunset continued with something which raised alarms. "I'm not sure who's worse between the three: Octavia, Trixie, or Gilda, but I finally have an opportunity to get something on Gilda and Trixie at least. Maybe ... I hope."

I'm not sure I like where this is going. "Uh, how's that?" Sure enough, Shimmer's impression was correct; she didn't like how things developed.

"Trixie's going to break in to the school on Saturday to steal something from Octavia; first, that's a chance to get really specific evidence if I follow them, and, second, there might be a chance to stop Trixie in the first place. Well, or make things harder for her, anyway."

"Why don't you just go to the faculty if that's the goal?" Shimmer scrutinized -- only to receive a raised hand and a slow-shaken head from Sunset.

Her raised hand was then joined by its counterpart and either curled so only index fingers were sticking out before Sunset informed, "Octavia specifically asked me not to. Clearly she's got some kind of plan she won't explain to me, but I'm gonna find out."

This all seems a little crazy, Shimmer decided, furrowed her brow, and expressed, "That ... seems a little iffy. You're going to do this by yourself?" A nod answered. "Sunset, that doesn't sound like a good idea."

Closing her eyes, Sunset dropped her hands onto the desk, tilted her head back and forth a few times preceding shaking it, and agreed, "That's because it's not. It's really ... not."

"What!" Shimmer leaned over the table, planting either elbow on it, and demonstrated her befuddlement. "If you realize that, then why-"

"Because- I dunno! I just- I really need a win right now, Shimmer. I guess ... Ugh, things- they've just been so irritating, and I finally have a chance to catch them on a mistake. Yes, it's brash, it's brazen, but I feel like I need to do it. Okay?" Sounds like something I'd expect from somebody sleep deprived.

Considerate or convincing argument appeared a futile pursuit to Shimmer after a minute of no exchange with which to think. Hence, she, hoping but not expecting to get something positive in return, asked, "There's nothing I can say to talk you out of it?" Verbal language didn't answer. Rather, body language did in the form of stony eyes and a head shaking with sluggish speed.

"Okay." Shimmer made up her mind -- realizing that she was likely the only one who knew of this plan besides Sunset. "I'm coming with you."

"Huh? What? N-"

"Don't argue with me. I want to know how this plays out; I want to know what happens to you. This seems extremely reckless and I'm betting you didn't tell your friends about it. If you need to do this to give Gilda and them the finger, then I need to be there. Alright?" Either girl went silent again. Shimmer worried that she would have to threaten to tell someone about this -- something she really didn't want to do as it would demolish whatever trust had been built -- but Sunset assuaged that concern by refusing to refute any farther.

She huffed a flat, "Fine," as she turned to the window.

I guess she realizes I could tell someone, Shimmer noted before coming to a more-important-to-her realization. She'd rather have me along than any of her other friends. Wait, that's conjecture, Shimmer. Sunset brought her from her thoughts with a stipulation.

"Just let me do things my way. Can we talk about something else now?"

"Of course."

This is gonna bother me until Saturday is over with. God dammit.

Author's Note

Hey, I found out what the horizontal rule is good for; it's good at omitting information I don't deem important to the chapter's progressing the plot but when there isn't a huge scene change. Learning!

Anyhoo, there are a couple things here I'm not quite positive I'm pleased with (the second sentence is weird af how on Earth did I miss that), but I wanted to get this out at this time. I'll probably look over this a couple more times with some evening coffee, but let me know what you think!

Enjoy!

So, as an edit, I looked back over it. I sincerely apologize to anyone who read some really brain-dead mistakes. There might be more stuff I missed. If so, feel free to tell me. When I saw some things I was just flabbergasted I missed some of it and it made me feel like an idiot, so I'm super sorry! Mes excuses!

20 ~ Crazy Ideas

Author's Note

Well,

This has been a long time coming. Of course, I say long because it just felt long to me; I started working on this about three weeks back and it was my intention to hammer it out in a week or so. Alas, that just wasn't the case. Writing this was hard, mostly for life reasons (shit was happening and I had some work to do), but -- in honesty -- quite often when I thought about the scenes or started writing them out I got a little sad. Maybe a tear or two pooled up in my ducts, and I ended up working on other stories or thinking about future scenes in this one.

But before I let you go, I was reading over this with Vivaldi's Four Seasons playing at first; it was a wonderful addition by my estimation, and -- if you can handle reading with music -- Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata was a pretty fun fit for the dream sequence.

Beyond that, 'Valdi knows what's up.

Despite all that nonsense, here's this! Enjoy and lemme know if I missed stuff!

20 ~ Crazy Ideas

'Exhausted' was the most applicable word Sunset could conceive as she stared out Sugar Cube Corner's booth window and ignored her surroundings. School hadn't been fun. Being alone was dreadful so she didn't want that, yet people vexed her more than a hundred gnats in an open field ...

Nobody was nicer or more patient with her than her counterpart. Enjoying Shimmer's company seemed the only thing which could extricate her from guilt and self loathing. Shimmer ... accepted her. Being around the nice girl made Sunset feel like she really had a chance. Perhaps true forgiveness was out of the question, but Shimmer held out a chance to grow and kept holding it out despite how much Sunset swatted it away.

"Hello-ohh? Earth to Sunset, are you there?" the object of relief requested Sunset's attention with a hand waving in a long arc -- succeeding much to the dimensional interloper's tired surprise.

"What?" Sunset snapped, along with her gaze, to Shimmer, "I'm sorry; I totally zoned out."

Two raised brows and a short, "Ah," preceded Shimmer folding her hands on her lap and inferring, "I noticed. Are you tired? That's the third time in the last few minutes."

"Y- Uh ... " Sunset began but stopped herself to run different methods of answering through her head. 'Yes' is the obvious answer. You told Rarity about this once before. Telling Shimmer should be no harder. Despite noting 'the obvious answer', Sunset felt she would have to elaborate sooner or later. Unless her nightmarish torment in and after sleep vanished one night; a joke Sunset found no humor in telling herself on multiple occasions, as it was more improbable than Octavia or Gilda becoming nicer than Shimmer. At least give her the general truth.

"W-well, n- Yes! I mean, yes I'm tired; I haven't been getting enough sleep for a while now," Sunset's decent start to answering improved her mood and caused Shimmer's lips to curl up. She smiles a lot. Duh, she's trying to encourage you, Dunce. Now all you have to do is explain why you aren't sleeping well and move on. Alas, Sunset's lips moved on their own. "And, in answer to your question the other day, that -- causing me to zone out so much -- is why I fail to maintain eye contact often." Or you can just lie again. That works too.

Somewhat squinting eyes followed Shimmer's mouth straightening and she said nothing for a moment. She doesn't believe me? That's ... actually a good thing. No response came for a time but Shimmer soon observed whilst leaning back and shrugging, "Well, we're not really talking if you're not really here. Do you wanna go home and get some sleep?"

Not really, but would saying that be weird? Sunset pondered before deciding to answer with a swift nod. Grabbing her bag, she looked at Shimmer and lamented. More than anything, she wanted to stay and chat even if it meant falling half asleep every now and again; had there been an offer for something like coffee, she would've accepted in the time requisite to blink. In fact, she considered proposing the idea, but she soon realized, Shimmer wants to feel like you're at least trying to take care of yourself. You might as well give her that.

"Yeah," she found words to respond, "It's all muggy out anyway; I don't wanna get caught if it rains. Apparently it'll rain tomorrow so I won't wanna do this then, but I guess I'll see you Saturday?" How much she spoke like she was asking Shimmer to be there didn't occur to Sunset until much later.

Ten minutes prior, the prospect of being joined in her operation annoyed her -- somebody else being there might complicate things -- but in that moment the thought of Shimmer's company was relieving. Being left to her own devices terrified Sunset, and Shimmer was just ... better company than anyone else. Though she would refuse to admit it to herself or anyone else for an extensive length of time, Sunset knew on some level that running into Shimmer was probably the best thing to happen to her since her defeat (another thing she found beneficial but was loathe to admit).

Right as Sunset stood, Shimmer confirmed, "Saturday," and asked a question of her own. "Sunset, do you not li- Well, do you hate rain?"

Sunset raised a hand parallel to the floor and rotated it back and forth a few times before trying to equivocate, "It's battering is obnoxious. It's distracting, but, no, I do not hate it ... " And now I'm lying again. Dammit, talking to you is impossible. "It's just a bother." After a hum, Shimmer nodded, signalling acceptance of the explanation, and Sunset reluctantly excused herself with a, "See ya," to have the phrase launched right back at her.

Leaving the shop and walking toward home was every bit as anxiety inducing as she expected. Upon traveling a few meters, she stopped. I don't wanna go home. I'm just gonna lose it more if I do. She turned back to the store, glanced back toward her way home, and repeated this as she mused.

Ugh, the sane thing would be to go right back and come clean about what you want and why you want it; you're not doing yourself any favors bottling this up, after all, and she's willing to help. Hesitation marred two tentative steps taken toward the store before fear stopped her altogether. What are you doing? She would think you're crazy! Not that you aren't, but come on! That's a crazy plan! Spinning on a heel, she began leaving again but halted after one step. 'Crazy' is the perfect fucking word, Sunset! But she's not gonna judge you like that; she's literally said so!

Stationary because walking one way and turning around a lot would've looked odd, Sunset tried to force herself to reach out. Just go back and ask for help. What's the worst that could happen? Alas, the prideful part of her hated that idea and demanded to be heard. 'Ask for help'? That's basically admitting that you're powerless to do anything about this alone!

Conflict of interest and self image warred within her for another minute before she realized neither side was winning, uncertainty and indecision strangled her much longer than she could tolerate, and she trudged away from Sugar Cube Corner with one justification motivating her. At least I know what'll happen if I go home.

Despite their conversation, Sunset's plan was the opposite of resting, for she knew doing so would only make her feel worse. Instead, she read through textbooks and looked over class notes, making coffee when sleep threatened, to occupy herself throughout the night; her thinking was that staying awake all Thursday night and all Friday would generate sufficient fatigue for her to sleep enough in preparation for her Saturday scheme. Of course, avoiding sleep and its unwelcome effects was rather simple, but the consequences were predictable and detectable like a bright light shining on polished steel.

Octavia, during their Friday-set chess session, was first to make a comment about those consequences. "Are you even awake?" she asked with a slanted expression while capturing Sunset's king-side knight. "Check."

"Technically," Sunset, holding her head over their table with an elbow-supported hand, replied, "Unless this is a dream and dream Octavia is talking to dream Sunset." Following a yawn, Sunset moved her queen-side bishop to take Octavia's checking piece and attack a rook.

This elicited a groan from the councilor before she deployed her queen and announced, "Checkmate."

"Well, that took longer than I thought." Sunset noted as she turned her gaze from the board to Octavia. "That's three. Can we call it?"

Gentle morning light streaming through the music room's windows made the councilor's face -- twisted with slight annoyance -- and formal attire easy to see, but Sunset didn't care much. "I would have enjoyed a proper match." Octavia lamented as she began resetting the board. "But it seems that is a commodity you refuse to give me today, so go ahead. Go."

Watching a waving hand dismiss her, Sunset shrugged, stood with her school bag in hand, and started departing. However, before she made it to the stairs which led to the exit, Octavia addressed her again. "Sunset." She joined Sunset on her feet.

"Hm?" came Sunset's tired, acknowledging hum as she stared at the stairs -- urging Octavia onward.

"Do get some sleep before you gamble at the next board." Bringing a finger to her chin, Sunset hummed again but it was one of musing rather than acknowledgement. Are you talking about chess? "Or is that difficult for you?" This question caught Sunset's full attention; she redirected her attention from the stairs to Octavia, having to lift her head in a caution-begetting, slow manner, and raised her brow no more than half a centimeter. Though Sunset didn't respond, Octavia presumed her question answered in the affirmative by silence. "Tell me: are there nightmares? Do you see the faces of your victims and cry at the notion of what a monster you've become?"

'Monster' stung Sunset's mind like a bee would skin but she restricted the pain to a clenched jaw. Quiet followed for a moment. Octavia was letting the words sink in, but Sunset countered soon enough with a hand gesturing to her questioner, "You tell me: do you spend all day thinking about what's going on inside my head, and does the possibility of my grief bring you joy each time you consider it?"

Three soft steps preceding crossing arms brought Octavia closer to Sunset. Purple eyes narrowed and the councilor tilted her head from side to side -- searching Sunset's face -- before answering, "You are nothing if not persistent, plotting, and precise, Sunset Shimmer, and I would call myself a fool if I just let you go unnoticed." She paused to quirk her own brow. "I would also conclude it foolish not to consider your enemies' psychology and anticipate their actions; I imagine you understand."

Can't argue with that, Sunset agreed inside and nodded. "I guess that means you wouldn't believe me if I told you I wasn't your enemy then? Just someone defeated and out of the game?" she asked with certainty that she would receive a negative response. Of course, Octavia shook her head.

"Maybe you speak truth, but if not I would be positioning myself very poorly." Fair enough. Sunset lifted her head to signify understanding and Octavia continued, "I answered you. Grace me with the same respect, please. When you sleep, do the nightmares include everyone you've hurt. Am I present?"

Turning her head so Octavia would have to view a more-profiled, skeptical face, Sunset pondered the wisdom of implying that Octavia knew what she was talking about, but decided it didn't matter when a jab occurred to her. "You haunt me enough in the daytime, Witch." Pure silence subsumed the pair for a minute after those words. Dust floating in the morning light and settling on a myriad of things was louder than either girl. They searched each other's faces for intention without motion, and wind outside could be heard to those listening.

Finally, Octavia broke the silence not by speaking but by uncrossing her arms thus rustling the fabric of her clothing. Come on, give me your best shot. You've already said the worst you could. Sunset steeled herself to be pulverized by Octavia's concise, on-the-dot observations. She was not prepared for what was to come.

Initiating was a suggestion and a heavy step forward. "Perhaps you should then tolerate me more." Sunset turned her face more toward Octavia and furrowed her brow -- indicating puzzlement. "If I am a witch, I could turn you into a frog, or ... " Octavia's tone dropped much lower. "I could give you back the power you lost?" What? The possibility stunned Sunset. "Is that not what you really want? When you see yourself in the mirror, do you not dismay at what reflects?" The councilor took another intimidating step before, so that each point was relayed without chance for misinterpretation, enunciating, "A weak, frail, impotent primate. Skin not crimson enough? Teeth not sharp enough? Glued to the ground like a bird whose wings were clipped. Does it not infuriate you to no longer be able to impose yourself upon the world as you once could?"

With widening eyes, Sunset shook her head in a near 180-degree arc at a speed which might have produced pain and refuted, "No! That's not what I want! I don't-"

"Admit it," Octavia caused Sunset's certainty to wane by interrupting, "If you had the chance, or the crown, you would act exactly how you were -- do exactly what you were going to."

Still, Sunset, giving a hard stare, convicted, "No! That's wrong; I would give it to its rightful owner! I have a different position now!"

"Are you sure about that? If it were right there ... yours for the taking. Years of effort ready for reward ... Just because circumstances are different does not, and never will, mean that you are. Nobody ever truly changes overnight; no magic can create such a miracle. I know you know that." These questions swayed Sunset's resolve, but her gaze into Octavia's did not falter.

Would I? If it was right here ... in my hand- No, no, no! I never want that again!

Hence, concluding she was sturdy in her new outlook, Sunset again denied, "I would return it. Maybe it wasn't overnight, but I am different."

"Are you sure?" repeated Octavia. Of course, Sunset was about to follow suit -- opening her mouth to restate her conviction -- but froze when the councilor continued, "Or have you simply become such a skilled deceiver that you have fooled even yourself in this most-recent lie?"

None of Sunset's fortitude saved her from paling at the question and ... she broke eye contact to look at her hands -- lips hard pressed back together. Is she right? Is that why I can't stand myself and I've just been denying it this whole time? That's just who I am? Each lie she told to her friends ... to Shimmer ... Every omission ... half truth to escape complete honesty ... the repressed desire to spite the students and school for defeating her ... It all crashed into Sunset's head at that moment. No! I refuse to believe it! I was filth! Not anymore! I refuse- 'Not anymore'? She broke inside as the realization that she'd been spending weeks debating whether or not she was sane hit the forefront of her consciousness.

Just because you refuse to believe it doesn't mean it's not true; you are the same lying, crazy, villainous, self-serving monster you've always been! 'I refuse to believe it' is just more denial.

Sunset's silence, surprise, and shaken-up demeanor seemed to be everything Octavia needed to conclude, with another step forward which Sunset didn't hesitate back pedaling at (dropping a foot onto the stairs behind), "You are a far more dangerous adversary than ever I could be, Sunset Shimmer. All the skills and intelligence of the most cunning, wicked devil, yet more unpredictable due to not knowing whether you want to use them." She took another step, and Sunset moved her only foot remaining on Octavia's level to the next stair down. "You are a ticking time bomb. Who knows when you will detonate? Taking my eyes off you is equitable to uprooting a tree and standing on the ground-leaning side of it: I would be precisely where it would fall, and I would have had all the warning in the world."

Emptiness struck Sunset -- in her stomach, her heart ... her whole being. She didn't respond. Instead, she turned, walked away, and only stopped when Octavia again spoke. "Sunset. Again, do get some sleep before you gamble at the next board." Nary a nod came from Sunset at the restatement.

Walking out of the music room ran her straight into Gilda, for, in her intense dejection, she neglected texting any of her friends to meet her before she left. Gilda was waiting so long for this moment when Sunset was alone -- vulnerable. However, the bully discovered immense disappointment when Sunset refused to respond to anything said or done.

Neither Gilda's irritating chuckle nor her grating tone could compete with Octavia's tactic in harming or upsetting Sunset: the truth. Sunset barely heard Gilda say, "You owe her something? Sucks to be you, doesn't it?" let alone respond, yet she caught the last part and agreed in silence.

Taunts, name calling, physical assault, untrue declarations or implications of relationship status ... Any other day, Sunset would've verbally thrashed Gilda with annoyance and spite, but that day ... Gilda and anyone else at school were ants in the peripheries of her vision. Sure, when the bell rang and she was freed, she messaged her friends and traversed the school at their sides. However, each of them were ignored to the same degree. No attempt to get her attention was dignified by anything more than monotone, "Yeah," "Uh huh," "I'm fine -- just focused." or other dismissive comments. Even teachers had an impossible time getting her to pay attention beyond basic answers to questions -- most of which were wrong.

Rain began falling right before lunch; though Sunset was too detached in thought from anything to notice it or the idea of eating. Octavia's words and the questions they rose were the only things within her concentration. All of her worked throughout the school day to reject or at least mollify their meaning, but, when the final class ended, she found herself forced to an admission.

Saying, 'Octavia's wrong,' is crazy -- deluded even. How often has she been wrong? I can't recall once. No memory of Octavia being anything less than flawlessly on point registered in Sunset's mind right then, nor did the rain or biting cold therein as she walked on autopilot toward home.

Emotion had abated within Sunset since she evacuated the music room, and it wasn't until she was halfway home that she found out why. It was an instinct of pride; suppressing her feelings allowed her to hold back how truly affected by the realization she was. No, not yet, she told herself when water which wasn't rain began pooling in her eyes. You can keep it in at least 'til you make it back. You're strong enough.

Alas, placing that expectation only reminded her of Octavia saying, ' ... weak, frail, impotent primate ... like a bird whose wings were clipped.' and it shattered any resistance she had to not crying on the streets. One tear rolled down a cheek. It's just rain. Two more followed -- streaming down either side of her face. It's just rain, she continued to deny to herself. Many subsequent tears trickled out and, soon, denial became impossible. Still, she restricted herself to a fit of hiccups and sniffles until she made it home.

That was where she really broke down.

First, she collapsed against her door and whined -- muffling long cries into a quickly-tear-soaked hand as a babbling brook of tears became a creek. Next, her breathing went ragged, she felt like she was choking, and panic came (assuaged only by part of her which realized there wasn't any real danger of dying). Last, she again found an efficient rhythm of breath and went to fall on her bed to scream sobbed sorrows into her mattress.

Screamed sorrows turned into agonized, atrophying wails which ultimately became, over two hours, sharp whimpers. They remained as sharp whimpers of relative quiet for another hour before Sunset had a break. Two hours of normalcy passed in which she went about her day as if nothing was inordinary. Of course, she had to wipe her eyes and blow her nose more times than she cared to count, but her day was somewhat tolerable -- rain bashing against things outside didn't help -- for that duration ... until her body notified her of the consequences of undernourishment and bawling for three solid hours.

Dehydration was facile in its initiating strike -- reducing Sunset's limbs to trembles and her tongue to the coarseness of gravel. It compelled her to retrieve a glass from her kitchen, fill it, drink its contents, and fill ... and drink ... and fill and drink ... and fill and drink ... and do so two more times before she returned to some stable semblance, yet that didn't mean her duress was done.

Hunger attacked next in the form of a twisting stomach which, at first, Sunset believed was the result of continuing sadness. When her stomach growled punctuation, though, she recognized the sensation well and placed her glass (alone) in her sink as she stared over cupboards and a refrigerator she could not hear the hum of over her shaky, attempting-and-failing-to-relax-herself breathing.

The tidy, spotless kitchen offered a vast array of choices but they mocked her rather than helped, for eating was farther from her focus than the sole glass in the sink (which was also far from her main focus). Sunset hated messes, so the thought of such a chore, despite its smallness, bothered her.

Maybe Octavia is wrong ... or right but missing something. Maybe that's why I hate myself so much; I am a mess, and I can't do anything about it.

Ruminating time wasn't given. Disregarding a desire to curl up and forget about everything, Sunset had to eat. However, her choice (a bowl of ice cream she prayed would freeze her depression) could only be halfway finished before her appetite vanished in a wave of sickness.

Although sweet, relieving defenestration came to that sickness when her body's demands were met and she stared into hands which she clasped atop her desk, it didn't last more than a minute, for choosing to attempt calming herself at the desk resulted in noticing where Octavia's words, ones which had only ever made her feel better, were written: 'You can handle a little torment.' For the first time since Sunset heard them, they devastated her strength rather than supported it.

Tears again started falling but she was determined this time to contain her whines behind a tensed, quivering, pressed-up lower lip. ' ... handle a little torment.' '... handle a little torment.'? No I can't! I can't handle this! Or maybe this is beyond 'a little'?

One massive lump formed in Sunset's throat and a series of convulsions joined to threaten betraying her resolve. She resisted their siege, belting out sad, tortured hums from behind a clamped mouth, for only a few seconds before another idea struck her. Who cares if you can handle it or not? It's just what a demonic, vile, psychotic monster like you deserves!

With that internal punch, her resistance was vanquished; she collapsed over her desk -- eyes on forearms which caught her and her tears right on time -- and allowed misery she feared someone else in the complex might hear to pass as stertorous, discordant cries.

Half an hour of this passed. Nothing died down, but she lifted her head and caught sight of another object which diverted her thoughts: her boots. 'You don't deserve to be treated how you're being treated.' returned as a canoe of comfort in her river of gloom. "Sh-Shimmer ... I nee- hic ... I-I need to t-talk about this!" she panicked aloud between sharp inhales and short whines as she fumbled to retrieve her phone.

Seclusion, omission, lying ... The time for that is over. It has to be over! "N-no more! This ... T-this ends now!" or so declared Sunset, looming over her device while hovering a finger over the button which would begin a call with Shimmer, yet several tears dripping onto the phone in rapidity made her pause.

What are you gonna do? came the voice in her head. Call and bawl your eyes out -- begging her to help you with something you're not even sure she can? Sunset's finger trembled a little more than the rest of her but she moved it closer to the 'call' button nonetheless. Had Shimmer been at all how Sunset perceived, she would understand without judgement. Hell, she'd probably be over as soon as she could to be here for me. To listen, to be patient, to let me get it all out at my own pace ...

Doubt that Shimmer would do her best to calmly, gently, kindly provide comfort was absent in Sunset's mind. In fact, the sobbing girl figured Shimmer would say exactly the right thing, and the whole ordeal would fade away like a bad dream. Sunset would wipe her eyes and confidence in her reforming self would be restored.

' ... you'll feel a million times better when you do."

Thence, remembering Shimmer's encouragement, Sunset lowered her finger so it was a mere centimeter from the device. It's only your dignity. You lost that long ago. Right before finger and gadget contacted one another, she tossed the phone onto the desk and heaved. She couldn't do it ... not then, anyway. Instead, she texted an assured time and meeting place for tomorrow, returned the gadget to the desk (she couldn't care less about a response right then), and left her seat to collapse again on her bed with a proud conviction as she continued crying into the covers.

I am not talking to her like this. I will have a calm, civil, dignified confession ... just not today. Pulling her knees to her chest whilst turning to lie on her side, she removed her boots, let them fall over the bed's edge to the floor, and cried her tired, forlorn self to sleep. Tomorrow you'll do it. Until then ...

You suffer.

Sleep, the supposed 'sweet release of awareness' was no sweeter or more relieving than it had been for Sunset since her defeat. Her eyes snapped open to a pitch-black sky recognizable as such because of rain precipitating from it. Sunset was soaked and she lied on her back, on something cold and also wet, so she wished to get up. However, her limbs resisted commands.

Only her head seemed moveable; though turning it was a painful, tedious task, she discovered she was in a muddy pit -- more like a crater. Nothing about this alarmed her. She was content to lie there and freeze. What's the point of getting out of this if it's just gonna be more of the same?

Exhausted and defeated, she rested there for what seemed like minutes -- awaiting a moment where experience became nothing, but frigid death did not meet her. Rather, touches of water on either side of her face brought her to recognize what it meant to be lying at the bottom of a pit amidst heavy rainfall. Adrenaline cracked her skeleton to an upright, sitting position. No, no, no, she repeated to herself while forcing herself to stand despite creaking, crying aches from her bones. I am not drowning to death!

Moving as fast as her legs felt capable of carrying her, she was met by slippery, muddy slopes leading out of the crater, yet she ascended as best she could -- grunting or shouting each time she slipped downward and caught herself either with her hands or her face. During the climb, she noticed something dismal. Is it getting steeper?

Of course, it was a gradual effect occurring only at a certain altitude upon the slope but Sunset didn't care; it scared her and made her speed up with wanton disregard for the pain in each of her bones. By the time she reached the top, she dropped her torso and huffed as she let her legs hang, slowly hanging more down every breath, until she finally looked up to see herself.

Not her human form but the crimson-skinned, winged, demonic form she became by donning the element stared down at her smiling. A loud rumble followed by a bright flash illuminated the sky at that moment ... and the creature. Fangs in the demon's mouth curled downward like they were prepared to devour the drained, prone girl, and the monster extended a tensed, clawed hand. Part of Sunset thought it would be easier to be lifted, restrained, and torn to shreds, but another part became horrified, panicked, and wanted nothing more than to escape.

Thenceforth, the latter, freaking-out part won without contest. "No! Get away!" she screamed, reeled back, and immediately felt the mud beneath her give way at the sudden motion. She stumbled back before falling and tumbling down the pit's slopes. When she hit the bottom, she was under murky water. Hence, she flailed to her feet in a fit of labored screams to discover the pool, while rising in level, only came up to her knees.

Looking up out of terror brought no relief as copies of that monster stood -- sporting that same hungry, psychotic smile -- everywhere around the crater's edge save one side: the one Sunset was farthest from. Strangled, shaking breaths accompanied a wet, muddy, burning-in-pain body whilst wide eyes flicked from rain falling and gushing into the pit, to the watchers standing on the steadily-closing-in crater's opening, and to the sole bastion of escape where nothing but the muddy slope, rain, and black sky could be observed.

Despite panic, fear, and stress, there was only one option to Sunset. Urged by the water swishing around and climbing her legs, she pressed through the resisting, threatening liquid toward the far edge with forced, deep breaths which only became harder and sharper as the water rose to such a point that Sunset had to raise either arm to keep her hands from submersion.

Water reached the small of her back upon her reaching the slope and her lip quivered as she began climbing what was passing a 45-degree angle. Things only became steeper and slipperier, and every slide down held greater chance of falling into a pit which maintained a particular size -- just large enough to cram Sunset into.

However, right as the angle approached 90 degrees, Sunset's hands gripped the edge. She tried to push her feet against what were then walls for power to lift herself but they always slid, and tears formed when the walls curved back so she was dangling off a wet ledge which felt like it could yield structural integrity at any moment. It was then that a figure approached. They were hard to see at first because of the darkness but Sunset soon recognized someone she was just as scared to see as any of the demons.

Octavia stalked right up with a puzzled face.

Drowning proud is worse than drowning in humiliation, Sunset decided as she choked out a sad, "Please, help." Octavia looked beyond the crater like she hadn't heard the request, so Sunset begged again louder, "Please! Help me! I'll do whatever you want. Just help me!" To this, Octavia shrugged, stared back to Sunset, and stepped closer. First, Sunset, thinking Octavia was going to help, sighed in relief, but relief became fear when the councilor gave an icier-than-the-air-or-water glare and stomped on one of her hands. The edge Sunset clutched with that hand collapsed instantly and the other crumbled some in reaction.

"Please! Please don't!" Sunset screamed her pleas and cried without restraint -- shaking her head and shrieking as her other hand slipped and barely maintained purchase. Slushing began first underneath Sunset's clinging-for-life fingers and next under Octavia's shoes as she turned to walk away. "Wait! Where are you going?" Sunset yelped after the ledge crumbled a bit more, and her body swung which caused further degradation of the handhold and invigorated Sunset's fear. "Please! Anything! I'll do anything you want! Save me!"

Octavia was out of sight. Looking down provided no view, just sounds of water bashing against water, and the crater's entrance diameter was only a couple meters. Still, the councilor could be heard replying, "You already are doing what I want, and you could help yourself. Letting go would be doing more than just you a favor."

With this, Sunset bit her eyelids together, failing to stop tears from stinging through, and yelled upon feeling her handhold break. Free fall, however, only lasted a moment, for something cinched down on her wrist and yanked her out of the narrowing hole with almost no effort; it was a grip unyielding and unforgettable yet tender and comforting all the same.

Of course, it vanished the instant Sunset was safe on solid ground and she scurried away from the closing pit with heavy-but-not-calming breaths. Once she believed she was alright, she looked back to see the opening stop closing at a size smaller than Sunset's palm, so rain could continue pouring in albeit at a slower rate.

Where did all of me ... they go? she wondered as surveying the area presented nothing but rain, ground, and sky. Who saved me? Her questions were dismissed when the downpour's intensity increased -- becoming so dense that Sunset couldn't see much around her and couldn't tell how much water on her face were tears. Soon, small points of different-colored lights surrounding black dots could be identified. These, Sunset knew well; they were eyes staring at her.

A muffled shout graced her ears which, if it was meant to be coherent, she didn't understand. Perhaps it was the only reason Sunset could consider to be grateful for the rain, as, whatever it was, it didn't sound nice. Regardless, she didn't want to stand there under the scornful stares surrounding, so she began walking away from the hole which began closing again as water started splashing out of it, hanging her head and watching drips (tears and rain) fall, until she bumped into something metal and sturdy.

Glancing up revealed Shimmer's motorcycle. Nothing was around it save for the semi-distant eyes and the rain. There, where the downpour cascaded over and made the bike shine, Sunset depressed by the back wheel, brought her knees to her chest, and leaned against it -- boring her gaze at it to cry without thinking about the eyes surrounding. She didn't care about her pride or how childish she looked then. All she wanted was something pleasant and kind in nature to ease her fear ... to comfort her sorrow ... and anything related to Shimmer seemed the best candidate.

Thence, she looped her arms around her wet, muddy-in-spots boots and closed her eyes while the tears fell.

Something astonished her when she next opened her eyes; she awoke in her bed with her face in a damp patch encompassing some of her pillow and the mattress, but her eyes shed nothing. They stung and felt puffed out, sure, but they didn't contribute anymore to staining her face or sheets. Alas, as wakefulness returned, she realized she would have to wash her sheets soon ... again. What could she do about it, though?

Until you talk this out and make real progress towards getting over yourself, this'll be your life. Memories of her nightmare and those prior, punctuating with vigor, reminded her what her 'life' was like. Shivers traveled down her spine at the thought of it as she rolled out of bed to move to her desk and check her phone.

'3:03' the device read along with a concise, 'Sounds good, I'll see you then,' from Shimmer when she accessed it.

"Five hours!" Sunset groaned. "I stayed up a day just to sleep five fucking hours? This has to stop. Today ... Today is the day for fuck's sake!" Her morning was taken slow since she had until 5:00 before leaving to arrive on time and every ticked minute induced a stronger anxiety.

Breaking into the school, tailing Trixie ... That was all easy (child's play to Sunset's habitual capacity to be heinous). Confessing to Shimmer, though, pleading for help despite not knowing if that would just mean sitting in a room for hours trying to find vocabulary ... That was the scary part. But you have to do it. Have some fucking decency and courage already, Sunset!

Come 4:55, Sunset was clean, had two cups of coffee, ate, and was prepared to depart -- in her beautiful boots and with her school bag secured to her back -- into the world despite not knowing what to say to Shimmer besides, "Please help".

Shimmer met Sunset right before 6:00 two blocks from Canterlot High. Alas, words weren't exchanged. You're never late, Sunset noted as she beckoned to her counterpart to follow her toward the school through a cold, sun-lacking morning. They moved in silence, not having greeted each other aside from dull waves, for quite some time. Sunset busied herself trying to broach her request with tact, so it was Shimmer who broke the ice.

"So, a-are you, uh, ready to ... fell Gilda and Trixie with ... U-uh, exactly what is your plan?" she asked slow and cautious like she was trying to work to something else.

Paying the inflection of the question little mind as crisp cold and intense consideration were more prominent in her concentration, Sunset answered, "Simple. We patrol from a ways behind the building to try catching them, I'm certain Gilda will, bust in through one of the side doors, get footage, tail them inside, and see if we can't catch them in a mistake."

Missing nary a beat, Shimmer questioned, "How do we, 'tail them inside'?"

It was a sensible query. Sunset should have anticipated it before she spoke, but other things were plaguing her focus. Regardless, she explained as she led them far around the school, "There are broken locks on a few of the side doors; if you know what you're doing, you can open them from outside easily."

"And you know what you're doing, and you're gonna ... break us in?" Shimmer saying 'break' made Sunset cringe somewhat because it was said with such subtle indignation.

'Yeah' was the obvious, honest answer which occurred to Sunset, but, "It's no big deal; it's for a good cause." slipped out before she could think about it. Shimmer's eyes rolling were virtually audible yet she said nothing. Instead, she let Sunset settle them in a little evergreen patch a decent ways from the school's (predicted by Sunset) empty parking lot. "From here we can see the back and walk, I grant quite a bit, to see either side." Sunset remarked in an off-handed tone, steeling herself to use the waiting, watching time to talk to Shimmer, before adding, "But walking's probably not so bad considering this chill."

Her comments were met by an idle hum preceding Shimmer returning, "At least it can't be that far below freezing; I think it's supposed to rain la- ... -ter" She noticed what she was saying a little too late.

Before she could say anything else, Sunset, suddenly tense because of more than cold, mustered an annoyed, "Oh." Fuck, just snow already!

"Uh, I-" Shimmer started speaking again but stopped when Sunset turned to face her. Neither continued speech for a moment. Sunset was about to try requesting help with her ... issues but quit in relief as Shimmer seemed like she had something on her mind. However, Shimmer just returned her gaze to the school and, under Sunset's inquisitive stare, said fast like she was trying to gloss over the interaction, "I know you don't like rain though." I fucking hate rain. You just don't know. "So let's hope this goes by quick."

"Yeah." With that, Sunset forwent her chance to talk. Job first. Then you can ... reach out. Either was silent for a bit in their watching -- intermittently shivering and breathing into their hands. Sunset was content in that silence but grew curious when she turned behind them to ensure they were alone and saw Shimmer staring with a scrunched expression, so she instigated, "Something on your mind?"

Waving a hand, Shimmer glanced behind them, huffed, looked to the school, and chattered, "N-no. N-not really. Just c-cold. W-w-wondering how you're s-so still." It was clear prevarication, but Sunset didn't pry. She knew what it was like to be trying to word oneself.

"Just got used to being cold after a while."

The pair paced for 45 minutes before movement was spotted in the form of three cars making heaps of noise pulling into the parking lot; several students and faculty members Sunset recognized on the spot stepped out when they parked.

"Huh? What're Council people doing here?" Sunset whispered despite being well beyond earshot whilst she witnessed a staff member unlock the back door and let the students in. Moments passed in silence prior to something going off in Sunset's head. Let the fraud begin. "I have an idea; let's head to the front."

Quick motion was welcomed by both, though, preceding moving too far, Shimmer inquired, "Plans changed?"

"Things happen. Sometimes, we have to improvise." was the shrugged-out answer she got without being kept waiting. When they reached the front entrance, Sunset pressed her face to the glass, waited -- scanning and confirming the door was locked -- and let out a happy hum before knocking twice.

Someone Sunset knew as Lyra came to open the door just enough to address, "Sunset, or ... Sunsets, I guess. Why are you here?"

Okay, Sunset. Embrace dishonesty. It's natural. Disregarding it leaving her stomach churning, Sunset leaned onto one leg more than the other and lied, "Octavia left something in the music room. Apparently, she has no wish to get it herself, so she decided to interrupt our morning."

Lyra studied Sunset's face for a moment, yawned, and shook her head a few times. "That girl's a headache. It's always something ... " She groaned and pushed the door open. "Whatever, just tell her I said to get the things she wants before leaving, and I wouldn't mind if you flicked her in the face or something, too." Upon Sunset grabbing the door, stepping inside, and holding it open for Shimmer to follow, Lyra added, "And be quick about it. The last thing anybody else wants is to have their morning interrupted specifically by you." She looked like she was going to say something else, but kept her mouth shut as the front door closed.

"I'll be sure to." Sunset assured. With either of them safe inside the warmer-and-warming school, and Lyra turning away, Sunset celebrated inside Easy. That was ... easy. Her celebratory attitude became regret as she realized what she was celebrating, and alarm and guilt raised as Lyra stopped to say one more thing.

"Can I ask what you owe Octavia?" The reason for the question was obvious; anyone who knew Octavia knew she didn't just ask favors, and people didn't do her favors unless they owed her something.

However, Sunset didn't have time or desire to spew more lies, so she walked away from Lyra and dismissed, "You can, but I won't tell you." without a care. They had work to do, or Sunset did, anyway. Although her operation was falling apart some with the added possibility of councilors being in their office, she found the door locked after several minutes of walking.

What are they doing here then? It was on this thought's heels that she noticed Shimmer giving her a pursed frown. "What? Thinking about me being an awful person and a liar?" she inferred while turning her attention to the office's lock, kneeled, and checked both ways down the hall to find nobody beside them was present.

"I- Well, I wouldn't h-have-"

"Don't remind me. Besides, Trixie will do the same thing when she realizes there are people here." Sunset interrupted before any painful commentary could be made as she removed and fished in her bag for a curved pin and a thin, flat sheet of steel. Upon raising the tools to the door's lock, she looked at Shimmer to discover the frown still there. "Old habits die hard, okay?"

Later, Sunset decided this was a bad thing to add. Shimmer probably wasn't going to say anything, but the comment prompted a, "Birds of a feather flock together, huh?" which made Sunset's breath catch in her throat.

"Sh-shut up. Just tell me if anyone starts walking into the hall, 'kay?" Sunset prayed the conversation was dropped, started picking the lock, and swallowed when Shimmer's lips popped like she was going to say something else on the matter, but she didn't.

Instead, five seconds passed and she did as asked. "Uh, there's someone in the hall."

At that, Sunset's neck straightened and she yanked her tools from the door. How could someone've gotten there without- she began to question to herself but stopped when she saw who Shimmer referred to -- a still Octavia looking down to Sunset with a relaxed, stoic expression. The councilor (holding a black book against well-pressed fabric across her chest) was perfectly kempt save for a single scratch on her upper-left sleeve and a small spruce twig clinging by it.

"I would ask if you need help," she began while revealing a small, brass-colored key. "But I feel you would have managed just fine without me."

"O-Octavia," Sunset stammered whilst staggering to her feet and clasping her hands, with her makeshift lock-picking equipment, behind her back. "I- Uh, it's you!"

"Of course it is. Who else am I?"

Sunset moved back as Octavia padded to the door -- with slow, measured steps not unlike a feline testing its prey -- before retorting, "Sometimes I feel you're an apparition. What're you doing here?"

To this, Octavia shrugged and pushed her key into the door's lock -- glancing away from Sunset for but a second. After a short twist of the key, she locked eyes with Sunset, pushed the door open, and offered, "That depends on you; if you are simply picking locks to entertain yourself, then I have nothing beneficial for you." She paused to let Sunset, who snatched her bag, and Shimmer enter, follow them inside, and close the door. "But if you are here to be thieves in the school, which I presume is more likely, and you wish to remain incognito, then I might warn you that Trixie just got let in by the same councilor you lied to and you probably have little time before she tells her about you."

"I see." affirmed Sunset as she moved to the room's left and knelt by the very filing cabinet Octavia informed her of prior. "Thanks for letting me know."

"Did I let you know something? I guess I did. And I opine you hurry." Octavia went to the room's opposite side and started going through papers Sunset wanted to see a lot, but she had work to do, despite visibility being limited since the sun's light was barely scattering through the sky (and activating the room's lights would be high profile), and time was dwindling.

That moment, as Sunset extracted the bottom-most drawer from the cabinet, was when Shimmer decided to inquire, "What does she mean, 'thieves in the school'?"

From the other side of the office, Octavia clicked her tongue and rhetorically asked, "Omit that part, did you Sunset? What a surprise."

Grimacing, "Ugh," Sunset rested on a side and began working her thin metal into the cabinet's internal back. She glanced up to see a deep frown on Shimmer's face accompanied by crossed arms; it made her return to work in a heartbeat. I like you better when you smile. "Why don't you explain, Councilor? Seems you enjoy meddlesome roles." Sunset spat Octavia's title as the cabinet's back popped out on one corner. That's a false panel if ever I've seen one. Before work could continue, Octavia spat something of her own which made Sunset's blood run cold.

"Why should I help you out of a grave you dug for yourself and jumped into?"

Her question made Sunset's hands shake a little but she worked nonetheless, pried the false back off to reveal a purple folder, snatched it, and stood to come face with an impatient-looking Shimmer who seemed to be trying very hard not to appear upset. Alas, Sunset saw no choice but to explain, so she tried to do just that. It'll be good practice.

"Well, it's a, uh ... Okay, this is going to sound really bad and I'm sorry it slipped my mind, but uhm ... "

"But uhm ... ?" Shimmer urged. Rather than answer by finishing, Sunset opened the folder, placed it on a nearby desk, and pointed since she was afraid to lie again and objects couldn't lie. Hence, Shimmer lifted a brow and gazed at the folder before muttering, "16: 39-4-46, 17: 14-1-52 ... What is-" She whirled toward Sunset. "This is a list of lockers and their combinations! This just 'slipped your mind'? Why do you have something like this?"

Lacking hesitation, Sunset pointed at Octavia and defended, "It's her list! She's the one who recommended I use it to get into Trixie's locker!"

Octavia didn't even glance up from her papers, making two neat stacks, as Shimmer turned to ask, "Is that true?" Harsh, Sunset thought, but I wouldn't believe me either. Without speech, Octavia took one of her stacks, turned away, and jammed it on a shelf. Sunset retrieved her phone from her pocket -- ashamed inside and pondering her recent omission.

Shame only doubled as she looked over the list to locate the general areas for Gilda and Trixie's lockers (she didn't remember the exact numbers) and heard Octavia declare, "You should never trust a thing that monster says, so good on you. But yes, she has nothing to do with any of those lists."

'Monster' being used to describe her did nothing to make Sunset feel better. Shimmer seemed to consider that immediately as she spun with apologetic features which Sunset -- snapping two quick photos of the list and burying herself in the task of replacing it -- only noticed for a second. Nobody spoke after that while work was being done. Octavia left the office with a stack of papers and only broke the quiet to remind them to lock the door on their way out.

Once she was gone, Shimmer started, "Sunset, I-" but got cut off for three reasons; first, Sunset was struggling to replace the false back over the folder (it was a perfect fit to its cramped holder). Second, Sunset was hoping to leave before Trixie arrived in the only exit, and third: Sunset wanted to talk after the operation.

"Don't. I wouldn't trust me either. Let's just go. I'm about-" Sunset cut herself off in the middle of interrupting Shimmer to complete replacing the false back and pushing the drawer back into its original position so everything seemed normal. While Sunset snatched her bag and moved from the filing cabinet, she saw Shimmer's jaw tense as though she was forcing herself not to speak. Job first. Talk after.

They made it outside the room, Sunset pulling the door closed after locking it from the inside, just in time to see Trixie, Gilda, and another student round the hallway's corner leading to the school's front and rush to them. "Get away from that door!" the Lulamoon commanded. Sunset jerked away with both hands raised and a shocked-yet-confused face. "Sunset ... or Sunsets, I should say. Why are you trying to get into that office?"

"Wha- Oh, my bad, Shimmer. I'm fucking tired. That class is on the other side of the school. Seems I made a mistake, Trixie." Strain being worked to sound like fatigue was clear in Sunset's lying face and voice.

Trixie, demanding, "Check inside," glanced at Gilda -- who gave Sunset a hostile glower.

Reaching to try doing as bid, Gilda had to notify, "It's locked." when she failed to turn the handle.

Faking a yawn was easy for Sunset. Halfway through, after all, it became real. Regardless, she spoke fast to excuse her and Shimmer from the situation. "Of course it's locked. We literally just got here. Anyway, we wanna get out of here and continue our morning ASAP, so you do whatever you came to do and we'll be on our way." Her emphasis had obvious impact on Trixie -- evidenced by a swift swallow -- but the magician narrowed her eyes nonetheless. Sunset took three wide steps backward, so to keep observing the trio, before turning to walk away with only her head turned.

Shimmer seemed more than happy to leave possible conflict. Trixie and Gilda, on another note, displayed refusal to buy Sunset's excuse by boring skeptical stares toward the pair, but they didn't move from the office door. I get the feeling Octavia's taken the records you want. The staring contest didn't end until Sunset and Shimmer rounded the next corner into the next hallway.

"What now?" Shimmer questioned as Sunset again retrieved her phone.

"Now we try catching a mistake ... and get ready to run." After a deep breath and a minute of waiting, Sunset leaned beyond the corner whence they came to try getting evidence of one of them breaking into the office and ... she saw all three of them, stationary in front of the door, staring at her like they never stopped. Guess they aren't that dumb.

Gilda began walking her way at the distant visual contact; it made Sunset's heartbeat speed up and her legs push her down the hall which was their escape route. "Time to go." she stated.

Either fiery-haired girl moved at a near jog to the closest side door, but Sunset raised a hand when she saw someone out of the corner of her eye and realized something. Did Octavia say, 'any of those lists'? Dammit! She was too wrapped up in work and shame to really listen to what the councilor was saying. More questions cropped up in her mind as she moved toward the aforementioned someone.

"Hey Lyra!" she called -- causing the girl, who was about to step into a classroom, to wheel her head in surprise.

Once Sunset and Shimmer approached, Sunset prepared to ask something but Lyra beat her to punch and questioned first, "Ugh, you're still here? Didn't you get Octavia's whatever by now?" Huh? Sunset's query changed as Lyra spoke like Octavia never showed up.

"Sorry, we're just leaving, but I was wondering: you let us and Trixie and them in, right?"

Lyra crossed her arms in impatience. "Yeah, and I just got away from the front. That it?"

"Just one more thing," Sunset pressed. "That's ... everybody you let in? Nobody else showed up?"

"No, nobody else showed up, and I've been up front almost this whole time shuffling around." How the Hell did Octavia get in, then? The side doors? Why do that when Lyra could let you in? And how could she know when Trixie and Gilda got in without Lyra knowing she was here, then? Many questions perplexed Sunset, but when Lyra said, "Anything else? I'm busy?" it seemed wrong to try getting any more information.

Instead, hence, Sunset shook her head and led Shimmer to the next nearest side door (she refused to go back toward Gilda). Returning to the cold wasn't fun but Sunset was happy the ordeal was over -- which surprised her considering how much more fulfilling and ... exciting she thought it would be. "Well, that was ... " she tried voicing her dissatisfaction to Shimmer once they were a block from the school; before she found the words, though, Shimmer used a hint of optimistic sarcasm to offer the polar opposite of how Sunset felt.

" ... everything you hoped it would be? And now you're overjoyed to have made Trixie second guess herself?"

"I was going to say, 'disappointing,' but I guess it was also, 'irritating.' Ugh." Sunset groaned. There was a knot forming in her stomach she didn't understand until they arrived back where they met prior. Job's over. Now it's time ... to talk, she realized in growing anxiety. How do I- Do I really just say 'Please help'? She wrestled with phrasing what she wanted for ten seconds of silence before Shimmer provided the perfect opportunity.

"So, I wanted-" the motorcyclist tried mooting something but cut herself off. What's been on your mind? Rather than finish, she ran a hand through her hair, looking not to Sunset but to the road, and asked, "Do you wanna, uh ... meet somewhere? Sugar Cube Corner? A café? Just ... talk for a bit?" She said it so much like she was forcing it out that Sunset was positive it was a cover for something else. However, it was still exactly what Sunset needed to make things easier. All she had to do was accept and ...

No. I'm not putting this off anymore! The sooner I do this, the better.

Gulping down her fear, Sunset opened her mouth, intending to give a concise, unrestrained plea without a single break in her voice -- pride be damned! ... but that wasn't what happened. "A-actually," came out in a stutter causing her to gulp again -- albeit this time it was out of fear.

Please! Mouth, just work! Words didn't come. Instead, she just stood there beginning to shake in anxiety. Her stomach went from being knotted to being violently wrung, she started heaving deep breaths because her chest and throat felt like they were collapsing, and her hands started quivering like a weak, dying animal struggling hopelessly in the inevitability of death.

Shimmer noticed ... because she had working eyes, and very soon frowned in a super-concerned expression. "Sunset," she asked, "Are you okay?"

'No I'm not Okay!' was what Sunset wanted to say -- to scream -- but, "Y-yeah," quavered out in a lie. No! No! I need help! Please, just fucking say, 'I need help'! "I need ... I n-need ... " Good! Now just say 'help'! It's one fucking word! Breath caught -- seized by a contracted diaphragm. Everything seemed to accelerate to a ludicrous velocity. She wanted to cry but something was keeping her. At last, she wheezed out, "h-" and stopped when a single, bone-chilling water droplet landed on her hand.

Panic seeped in and instinct took over. "Think," she exhaled. "I need to think. Later. We'll talk later tonight." She brought a hand to her forehead and passed Shimmer without hesitation. Something brushed against her wrist but pulled away; it didn't matter what it was. All that mattered was getting away, so she could breathe.

What occurred when she got home was breathing -- just in the form of hyperventilating and convulsing in tears.

Later, when Sunset was calm, it was well into the evening (five o' clock) and there had been no further contact with Shimmer. Glancing to her bed, Sunset bit her lip. There were two options: try again with Shimmer tonight or try again with Shimmer tomorrow. Just thinking about sleeping sickened her, so she found her phone and began a text. Maybe I should have her come here. Maybe it would be easier here.

Considering the idea, she shook it off and decided on two things. First, she tried writing out what she wanted to say on a slip of paper for the contingency of speech failing her, but after getting, 'Please help me, I' down she began trying to word what she needed, panicked, started shaking too much to write, and jammed what she wrote into her jacket pocket.

Second, she figured trying Sugar Cube Corner one more time couldn't hurt. If it failed again, she would try inviting Shimmer over -- where there was nowhere to run.

Either way, she knew one thing for certain as she sent a message asking to meet: she couldn't try.

She had to succeed.

1 ~ Aftermath and Onward

Deep and vibrant pigments purposefully painted the evening sky in a fascinating radiance of visible light, displaying prominently the beauty of nature within its grand harmonic Rayleigh scattering. Hues of resplendent yellows, oranges, violets, and reds gracefully danced over glistening waters while a sole, serene breeze swept atop its surface. Crows called in the distance as brown and red leaves lilted from swaying trees, and in the opposite direction one could observe the shadow of the planet itself cascading across the ground. Smells of salts and pines permeated whilst twilight usurped sunset in the dusk illuminated sky.

Aesthetic appeal told one that it was quite the poetic sight, or so considered Sunset Shimmer who -- not far from lake shores -- donned purple-accented, black boots. She, with a sigh and a flick of her eyes, felt a beckoning chill as solar warmth departed the air. Clutching a dear leather jacket in a feeble attempt to trap more body heat, she lowered her gaze to her own reflection and averted it as soon as her mind processed the image ahead. Yuck, I don't look any better than I feel. Without even the heart, or stomach, to stare at herself, she instead assessed that which lay around.

Thin blankets of sand -- descending toward the lake -- covered one side of a narrow path while the other portrayed dying grasses and withering forests. Down the other way was a road which led to sparse residences in the distance and more such flora. Her head hung low, Sunset, whose irises shined akin to the noble aqua, properly observed the state of repair she was in; muddied and scuffed boots were accompanied by torn, tattered clothing, and a less-than-preferred quantity of cuts and scrapes decorated her skin.

Exasperated, she allowed a sharp sigh to cut through the evening's air from her lips and she stumbled away from the lake until her feet flared pain. What have I done? How could I ... Absentmindedly the girl pulled, and sometimes yanked, from red-highlighted, golden hair accrued muck, grit, grime, and dirt -- allowing it to fall unceremoniously unto sand at her feet. Frowning, she stopped to stare over her hands; those grotesque, calloused, ripped and reddened hands infringed upon her sight. Her stomach churned as she thought, all the atrocious acts I've committed with these hands ... too much, and her heart sank like a free-falling bowling ball. Then, given a feeling as though she may truly vomit, weary turquoise orbs shifted unto the lake horizon.

Concluding her assessment, the messy, fiery-haired young Sunset decided she had, in fact, taken quite the rough fall and the landing had been inhospitable. Abruptly, the entirety of what she had worked to achieve was devastated unto oblivion -- because of one, tiny factor I was too self absorbed to see -- and with each of her worldviews became a mirror shattered to trillions of microscopic pieces ... lost then scattered in opposing directions to forever wander the cosmos of an infinite and ever-expanding universe; never again would they be found or restored to what once was. Pillars of sand and salt they were -- brushed away under the slightest of efforts.

Tears, threatening to drape an already tear-stained face, welled in solemn eyes while the oppressive, brutal pang of one emotion violently reverberated throughout each fiber of her being: failure. Ultimately, she had failed ... failed to such an extent that each moment of my existence from now might forever be haunted by my past crimes. Everything she had known would be different, as a world turned upside down with all the effort of a wrist snapping in a split second. Grievances would impact with a force not unlike that of a train and trials of taciturn courts would pass burning judgement at an intensity to compete with the sun itself. Known only to the object of judgement by the asphyxiating constriction that would be the glares of those around her.

Pairs of tears rolled freely and slowly down her pale, plain face; she did not move a single muscle while the light liquid poured. It was not that she was no longer angry or sad, she really wanted to sob and scream a whole lot more, but she was so exhausted from previously having done so much of that already; her body ached and she would most likely be sore everywhere in the following days. However, she did not move, she did not begin trudging home, she did not rant or rave anger, nor did she hark to the beckoning chant that was a warm bed to sleep away her fatigue. Rather, she stood in the sands alone -- staring into the distance idly at nothing in particular.

Trembling legs on the precipice of collapse supported a tremorous body. This tremorous, frail body supported a forlorn consciousness which wandered with many questions such as: what was the price for going as far as she had gone? I definitely went too far. Hurt, humiliation, cheating, lying, blackmailing, she even tried to kill others, and what was worse was that such deeds were not even half of her main crime. When she pondered her transgressions, it led her to wonder: Could I fill whole notebooks simply by listing them?

Of course, she was certain she would not have to, for anyone who did speak to her would almost certainly be speaking to remind and reprimand her of the horrid things she had done. Again, of course, that was under the assumption that anyone would actually be willing to associate with her, and a strong part of her silently hoped that no entity actually would. This was not due to an antisocial function or other disorder of the sort, but rather because she did not want others to remind her of her own self indulgences. Hell, she could barely stand looking at her own reflection and she prayed to any universal overseer that may exist that all this was a horrendous nightmare.

Nautical twilight then reigned over a sunset sky this lone girl attempted to use to preoccupy herself by pinpointing what few stars she could; this menial task provided some escape she could put her focus toward while pondering her next possible actions throughout life. I could run away and try to start over. After all, what's left for me here; for what should I stay for? ... who am I kidding, I don't deserve such convenience. I mean, what's out there for me anyway? Not a means of erasing what I've done, that's for sure. Truth understood, there was just as little for her anywhere else as there was for her in this place of her unforgivable deeds; If people wanted to, they could just up and write me off -- forgetting me as another monster of the times.

Strangely, strongly, a part of her did not want to be forgotten as such; though she was becoming more exhausted by the moment to think about it. Losing the energy to ponder the stars, she instead cast her focus to her boots; the feet and protective wear in conjunction beneath her gaze carried her so far. They had done so much work for her, but she questioned whether or not she traveled the right paths with them. Some secluded section of Sunset's tired heart knew without a doubt that she had not, but it seemed impossible to actually embrace that side of her. On some level it actually hurt for her, and she had no clue the very first step to addressing that level. Perhaps it was some stubborn instinct or habit she picked up but she could not accept that all her past endeavors had been for naught.

Satisfaction would have come to her urge to kick the sand around if only she had the energy for it. Instead she settled on glaring at the granules by her feet while pondering her actions' consequences. Maybe others are right; maybe I am lucky the authorities weren't brought into all this, but -- at the same time -- what am I supposed to do with this 'leniency'? Sure, I could repair damage I've caused in physical terms, but all those I tormented with my ... fanaticism ... that's another can of worms. Those damages, she believed, could never really be mended. However, trying to right her wrongs was not the extent of her sentence; she would have to live and deal with those she'd hurt, scorned, shunned, and treated like dirt regardless of her beliefs.

Swallowing a whole bottle of her own medicine, she supposed, was only fair. There was no formal repentance of her actions nor some kind of twisted reverse psychology. Rather her penance, nontraditional though it was, was simply to go on, deal with her past, and try to live with herself. Wholeheartedly she did not know that she could; a traditional reprimand is sounding better and better by the moment. Letting a shaky breath that was meant to be a sigh escape, she scuffed her boots against the ground and slowly turned to begin trudging wearily in the direction of what was her room.

Whilst walking, she reflected as to what others may think of all this. There was no doubt in her mind that she may as well be treated and glared at like the most disgusting piece of trash that everyone collectively wanted to be rid of; to be disregarded and kicked around at another's leisure seemed reasonable. The outcome was not one of preferable nature, but she would deal with it as she had known, after past events, that she in fact deserved at the very least as much for her crimes. Dealing with such treatment would not be simple for her -- she had always been on the other side of that equation -- but she knew that, despite her wishes, she would have to resign to said fate sooner or later.

Everyone would, if they even did, look at her with condescension, judgement, and much rebuke. Many questions of their mercies ran through her mind: would anyone actually think of her as possibly reformed, would she ever have the same opportunities, would they even consider speaking with her in the first place, or would one single person ever forgive her? She had answers to many of them, most resulted in the negative, but a couple rang through her head with a relentless obstinacy. Forgiveness for my crimes and sins? This was completely out of the question, for she knew none would ever look at her and state that they would put behind the things she had done.

From a different sect of her mind, another question sprang during her exhausted trek back to her residence: would anyone ever even consider me a person again? ... long shot. Of course, she could not blame any of them if they perceived her as not, for she wasn't. After all, she was far from anything like a human -- or even an accepted being of her original, equine race. As a matter of fact, she was no greater than a monster, and she cried the last water behind her eyes as she thought of what she knew she had become. Only two things did she pray for: one that her prayers would be heard, and the other that she could sleep at night knowing all she was.

Author's Note

Alright! So here we are at last, this is in fact the result of lots of free time and a desire to see more Summer (Sunset x Shimmer or Sunset x her human world counterpart thing I guess, don't ask me). Anyway, I kind of started out with a figurative language test, tried to tie it in with the story, and took an approach at a certain way of narrative telling in which you build a whole lot of depth before revealing something as simple as the characters name. Though I'm not quite sure if I did it a whole lot of justice, or any at all. Anyway, any feedback, comments, or criticism is very much welcome and I appreciate it a whole lot. This is, after all, the first chapter of a story I've really felt comfortable enough to share with anyone or posted on this site for that matter (aside from the mandatory things at schools). And so, I look forward to hearing about what anyone, if anyone, reads to think about it. Did that sentence make sense? I dunno, I've got beer to drink and stars to watch. Tally ho! THANK YOU FOR BUCKING READING AND ALL CHEERS <3

P.S. I kinda got lazy toward the end and all of that stuff so maybe it's not up to par, but if you all notice anything that'll motivate me not be so lazy again that's appreciated. So I'll just title this Chapter 1 for now and see how it goes. THANKS AGAIN!

Edit: Perhaps it took two or three years, and I resented the thought of attempting to fix this, but I finally did give it a few proofreading sweeps. Still, it isn't my best chapter, but I hope it serves its purpose. I shall one day do the same for chapter 2, but not today ... not today ...

3 ~ Foray to School

Sunset's fingers were unfeeling and her ankles sorely unconditioned to the sensation of cold. It seemed that no matter how fast she walked down the unmarked road toward school, her toes remained numb. The winter solstice was many weeks away yet the air was bone chilling and dull to her.

With the sun only barely risen in the sky and the pace she was motivated to move at, Sunset's earlier thoughts of arriving late turned to ones of arriving too early. What would she do? If she were to arrive before anyone else, it might prove to be an awkward situation -- being alone for any extra length of time with others at the school's rebuilding site. Especially if she was with the principal. Weighing her options, while cresting a familiar hill, Sunset saw the peak of her destination in the distance. Canterlot High School stood only a thousand or so feet away and Sunset stopped with a blink of her eyes.

Am I almost there already? She stood a moment, unsure of how long she'd been walking. Perhaps the taciturn cold of the morning distracted her from the flow of time, for it seemed far earlier than she expected. Curiously she checked the time to find that it was still before nine. Meaning that there was still more than an hour before she needed to be anywhere near this place. Sunset shivered.

For now she would keep walking until she had a greater view of the school area she sought. It had already been easy to see the marble statue in front of the building, as she was just off the main road that would lead to the primary entrance. However, she was on the wrong side to see any parked cars in the lot, and she didn't want to be seen approaching the school if there was anyone to witness her arrival. Hence she decided to get off the paved road and cut through a section of lawn in between two fence-less houses.

Using this unorthodox route, she circled around the school's East wing. Quick, and without straying, Sunset made her way to a small patch of trees far behind the school where she found cover; she stopped at a spruce tree's base and prepared to duck behind two largely-foliated branches that would conceal her from any peering eyes, but first looked back to scan the way she came.

With the quietness of her stop, she was certain she heard nothing and saw no movement. When she was content, she spied toward her goal. Sunset saw no movement in the parking lot ahead either and believed she saw nothing behind the windows beyond. However, she spotted four vehicles and was easily able to identify one as belonging to the principal. Sunset's annoyance grew when this information was discovered and she quickly moved on to examining three other machines.

Two appeared to be forklifts. Sunset guessed their primary purpose was plowing large amounts of dirt, but dehydrated of guesses regarding the last car she saw; It was a small van -- a jaded, polished-black with purple highlights throughout its display. Who it belonged to eluded Sunset, and this complicated things.

She heaved a sigh as she rested her weight against the spruce's trunk and surveyed the sky. Locating the sun, she learned that it was still low above the mountains and buildings on the horizon. More important: a large cloud was going to eclipse it soon. Sunset hummed -- considering options; far as she knew, there were anywhere from four to twenty people at the school -- ignoring anyone using other methods to get there -- so her odds of getting inside unnoticed weren't easy to weigh. Though, as her teeth chattered and her body lightly shook, she knew being motionless outside much longer would be unwise.

Glancing up again to find the sun almost covered completely by the cloud, Sunset chanced another watch of the school ahead. Upon being convinced there was no movement, she made the decision to cross the distance as soon as the sun occluded -- preparing with a deep breath.

The moment arose, she breathed again, and briskly began walking across the yard. Not running but taking care to take the least amount of time she could without moving too much. To bystanders, it would have not been unlike a cat stealthily trotting toward its prey. Gratefully to Sunset, as she approached the parking lot and school, there were no bystanders in the immediate vicinity; she also verified the lack of movement in the windows. Sunset knew though that taking a direct entrance would certainly run her into unwanted attention. Hence she would conscript more discreet measures to enter.

Each second she scanned from left to right and all around as she made her way to the building's Western wing before stopping at the corner. Again she turned around to find no movement or people of any sort. Perhaps her caution was unwarranted as it was so early and cold, but she believed prudence wiser. After all, it is my intention to interact with as few people as possible for as little time as possible today. She silenced her thoughts as she continued the task at hand.

Maybe a centimeter each minute, she inched her eyes passed the corner, and saw no people. There it was even more in the shade and she was sure that the windows were again devoid of human silhouettes. Sunset hastened to her target.

Not far now, she mused whilst approaching her destination: a bland-gray, metal side door with one small window just up and to the right from a door handle which jutted from the entrance's left (for Sunset). There were eight of these identical doors around the building. Three decorated the Eastern wall in which two were connected as large double doors, two were located along the rear wall, and two were gates through the wall beyond which Sunset sought sanctuary. Finally, there was one to the far left of the front door.

All of these were meant to be inaccessible from the outside, but a few select people through the school knew that three of them have broken locking mechanisms which could be worked open if one applied particular procedures. Being of the vast resources that Sunset once had access to, she was fortunately one of the people that knew this process, and began employing it with speed and mastery.

Numb fingers did not slow her down and she only hesitated at the first touch, as her fingers wrapped around the cold metal of the door handle. Sunset pulled it toward her and -- unlike a door handle should -- it came forward some apart from the door. Next, she pushed it down and forward until there was a faint sound of metal sliding across metal, but she froze her motions when she heard the unmistakable sound of speaking in the distance; it came from her right and she noted there were two of them. Their voices she could not identify, but they neared.

She took a breath and worked faster. With a few more similar manipulations of the door handle, and one last push both inward and down simultaneously, Sunset gladly heard a small click as the door handle turned a little down before snapping to the full open position. However, it created the loud sound of metal crashing together, and Sunset's heart quickened as an unfamiliar voice shouted.

"Hey, who was that!" Sunset saw no one to her right and, assuming they were still in front of the building, she pulled the door open and slipped inside. Quick and careful, she closed the door behind her as softly as possible, flattened against the corner far from the window, and held her breath. Two pairs of feet became faint in her ears as they hurried toward her position. In moments they came to a stop and Sunset heard muffled voices. She only caught the words, "I could have sworn..." from one of them before the footsteps started again in a fading cadence.

When she could no longer hear footsteps, and saw no one was in the hallway she just slipped into, she breathed and relaxed. Sunset was glad to have made it into the building undiscovered but it was not yet time to celebrate; she stalked to the end of the hallway passing all doors on the way, for they were classrooms certainly locked. Upon reaching corners that lead into other corridors, Sunset stopped and listened. Hearing no voices, she peaked down each hall and was again glad to discover not a soul. Now she faced another decision. Going right would take her to the library which would be the best place to hide from anyone, but it would also be heading toward the front office. Meaning there was more chance of running into the principal, and it was possible the library doors would be locked.

However, to the left, the gymnasium and cafeteria were certain to be open, but she would be out in the open if she were to go there. Sunset pondered her options for a spell and soon decided that going left was the least risky choice. Sunset began down the hall swift and silent with a care to listen for any sounds that weren't her own. She slowed to a stop as she came across an alcove to her left.

An option she had not yet considered, but was the music room door locked?

Sunset rarely frequented the room because it usually felt dull and dry to her, but there was little chance of anyone bothering her at least for a time. Uncertain of what she would do, Sunset decided to try the door if nothing more than to appease curiosity. Upon stepping into the alcove and around the wall, Sunset was surprised to see the lights of the room shining. She stepped to the door and looked in its windows to see if anyone was there; just like every other time ... no people. Inhaling, she tried the handle.

Empty of speed, the shiny round handle turned along with Sunset's wrist, and she soundlessly opened the door before entering. Far different was this room from the way Sunset was accustomed to; the windows let in gentle light and the velvet-like textured walls and floors emphasized an atmosphere of peace and quiet. Sunset left the door ajar in the event she need to leave quickly, but as she scanned around she still did not see anyone. With a glance at her phone, Sunset saw it was just minutes before nine. For the first time in a while that morning she felt at ease. Finally she could relax in peace even if only for a short time. She heaved a sigh and was able to -- for the first time since insurrecting the school -- feel what warmth the building provided. That was when she heard the sound of someone clearing their throat.

Ahem.

Author's Note

Here we are! I did it! Well, a few paragraphs of this draft were already written. Which is actually great, as it gives me more of an idea what I was planning to do with this story. All I had to do was finish it off, proofread everything, and bob's your uncle! Not sure what I can say here; I guess I said everything about my hiatus writing this in a post on my profile page. Let's just not take two years to write another chapter, eh?

Cheers!
-I guess I'm that one guy who... just doesn't you know?

17 ~ When it Rains ...

" ... beats walking." was what Sunset said but she was less focused on traveling and more on the fact that she was in deathly cold and wet with punch and cider. Seriously, those kids are trying to kill me. Not that I blame them. Upon sliding onto Shimmer's bike, the other girl removed her wig and Sunset felt a pang of an emotion she was tired of: guilt. Of course, she didn't dare express it, but she made a comment in hopes to get Shimmer to replace the fake hair.

It didn't work.

Whatever, Sunset, you can handle it. You're not seriously going to puke in front of her, right? Just think about something else. Another item of focus was presented, as if delivered on a silver platter, when Shimmer said in an almost passive-aggressive way, "I'm ready when you are." Right.

Sunset didn't know which new prospect gave her more pause: riding a machine without safety mechanisms or a semi-protective cabin (being in a car for the first time was difficult for her), or the fact that the only apparent way for her to be secure on the vehicle was to hang on to ... another person. Is this really about to happen? How am I even supposed to ...

From beyond the parking lot hailed a soft breeze which stung her bones.

Lifting her arms some and staring at Shimmer's waist did serve as something else to think about, but that didn't mean Sunset found it easy nor feel particularly ... wholesome doing so. Feel sick or do this? Cold seeped into her awareness once more -- pushing her to a choice and an excuse.

Just do it, Sunset. It'll be warmer, right? She had no idea if she was shaking due to frigidity or nervousness, yet she preferred thinking it was the former nonetheless. Regardless, her understanding of body heat appeared correct when she inched herself into -- and her arms around -- Shimmer's frame. It's not weird. Just don't be weird about it.

Thoughts urged Sunset's courage but soon provided little comfort as the short space between the two was closed and she had to rest her cheek and torso against Shimmer's back.

Nope, this is definitely weird, Sunset concluded. However, despite, she settled into the contact -- finding it much warmer -- by fully securing her arms only to loosen her grip when Shimmer went from mostly relaxed to one hundred percent inflexible. Of course, Sunset knew not how to react to the change. Did that hurt her? Too tight? Do I ask? No, don't be stupid Sunset; she'll tell you if it's hurting. Ugh, can we just get this over with alread-

That silent wish was Shimmer's next act which, soon, Sunset realized was not something she wanted, for the abruptness of the engine's vibration made her feel she could be shaken off at any moment.

Hence, she found her self retightening her grip around Shimmer, clinging like she might fall to her death from a mountain, and raising locked-together knees in a response of pure fear. Hell, she even had to take a few deep breaths -- which she tried keeping quiet -- to avoid yelping.

Shimmer seemed to understand this scare and asked with a soothing tone, "First time on a motorcycle?"

Responding with a quick, affirming hum was all she could muster. Just because it's new doesn't mean you have to be scared. Stay calm Still, when told to navigate before getting underway, her low, "okay" was laden with trepidation. Ugh, how lame are you gonna-

Before she could even finish her question, the bike started moving and Sunset's thoughts became a loop of, this is gonna kill me; I'm gonna die. I'm actually gonna die, and she squeezed Shimmer as a lifeline.

There was no backing out by that point, not that her pride would've let her, but at least the death trap beneath Sunset was producing rising warmth. Sunset, also, was glad to have the task of calling directions to occupy herself with as the moments passed yet still found every turn or momentary increase in speed to be an attempt to jostle her stomach through her skin.

Although the ride progressed, she found the motion a little easier to handle, and she was just about to relax, calming happened at the same moment they began ascending a hill Sunset never before feared.

Gravity requested she slip off the back and break something, but this turned out to be a better sensation than when they reached the hill's apex and the Earth started calling her to fall the other way. I can't watch this, she chose, as descent began, to bury her face -- both to avoid images and air -- into Shimmer's back-right shoulder; the only things which could reach her there were her stomach's sinking and the ever-pervasive knowledge that they were hurtling downward well beyond walking speed.

With what craziness does anyone enjoy this? Why do people own these things? much less use them?

Finally easing her terror was a slowing down that Sunset didn't trust until something properly destressing occurred: terrain leveled out; it was only then that Sunset peaked beyond her human shield to appreciate the environment. I must be getting used to this. It's not so fast, she thought with a light smile while watching residences whizz by.

Stars twinkled from above, city lights from more concentrated areas sparkled some distance away, and nothing more than the bike or wind made noise.

Without thought, she relaxed and let herself lean, rather than cling, onto Shimmer -- who returned steady support which Sunset couldn't find anything wrong with. This ... I can handle this. It's calm. Neither girl spoke (save Sunset's navigation) for a time and the bike's rumbling seemed much smoother ...

... until Shimmer rode over a pebble which kicked the bike's rear up to such an insignificant height that nobody in their right mind would worry about it, but Sunset's fear surpassed sense.

Horror returned with looming thoughts of death, Sunset grasped Shimmer in preparation to drag the driver to the grave, and a familiar sight became more than Sunset's home; it was her savior for that moment.

"This is it: the complex on the left." she barely kept from shouting in delight.

Entering and stopping in the building's parking lot, she jumped away from Shimmer and turned to ensure her face couldn't be seen; being free of the bike didn't change the fact that 'fear' and 'humility' were painted across her features in dark, sharp pigments.

Some degree of politeness and gratitude compelled her to say, "Thanks for the ride. Night." before she stormed away from the mortifying experience, ignored anything Shimmer tried to say, and went to her room trembling.

Upon opening, stepping through, closing, and locking her door, she decided to speed into her restroom and splash water into her face. It was there that she saw and turned away from the mirror post haste. Not because she felt sick, but she averted her eyes because her cheeks, and ears, burned as red as the highlights in her hair ... and they only got redder as she paid attention to it.

Nobody can ever see me like this! So embarrassed, humiliated ... afraid! That was worse than crying in front of Octavia! Ugh, I feel like an infant. she reflected as she moved to her bed, stepped out of her slippers, and flopped onto her mattress with her face in her pillow to continue hiding it.

I am never getting on that thing again.

Sleep came uncharacteristically fast as she sulked into her pillow. Dreams, though, were as terrible as ever. However, this night introduced a new skin-crawling element; rain and thunder were present as normal, eyes encircled with scrupulous and angry expressions -- also normal -- but a helpless sensation produced by being strapped, standing, to some form of conveyor belt careening her through a tunnel of judgment and deprecation introduced itself that night.

"You ruin everything!" a voice shouted.

"Why are you even here?" came another.

"Nobody wants anything to do with you. You're a plague!"

"Right where you belong: under Trixie's foot!"

"Are you even sorry for what you did? Hell, are you even sorry for getting caught?"

Sunset failed to ignore any of these remarks and found something to say about the last one. "Yes!" she screamed, "I am sorry; everything I did, everyone I hurt, physically, emotionally ... it was all terrible, evil, monstrous and I am so, so, SO sorry! I want to make up for it and get that apology through! Really, I really do! I swear it on my life!"

Her transporting track sloped downward fast enough to keep Sunset from saying any more, all the eyes became gold, and she fell into a pit -- released from restraints -- where the fragrance of pine accosted her.

Gilda's voice rang in her ears, "You're such a good liar, Sunny, you really sound sincere."

"No!" Sunset denied, "I'm not lying about this!" From who-could-say where, Gilda yanked her with an arm around her shoulder.

"Look up, Sunny." Above, framed by dark, cylindrical walls illuminated by countless adjudicating eyes, was an opening where happy faces paid no mind to what went on below them. "See, you're such a good liar, you've convinced yourself that you're sorry -- that you care about anyone else. If that were true, though, would you not be up there? Being honest and compassionate?"

Replacing a strip of the iris wall was a rock face extending to the top. Sunset wasted no time wrestling away from Gilda and leaping for the wall like it was the first meal she'd seen in weeks. Climbing only took place for a second before she looked down in response to the sensation of her foot being seized.

Gilda was the perpetrator; she was surrounded by her goons, Trixie, other students, but the worst of all was ... herself -- the old Sunset with smooth, rested features, a dazzling dress, and that gaudy crown.

Every. Person. There ... she couldn't stand seeing, so she kicked Gilda away and ascended. Maybe there were a hundred jutting rocks to climb ... maybe a thousand ... a hundred thousand ... Sunset didn't care. Bleeding dry through torn apart hands was better than accepting herself as one of the creatures below and she would spend eternity trying to escape if that was what it took.

Alas, her will meant nothing; the stones which offered freedom crumbled into ineptitude, she fell into expecting grips and screamed, kicked, tried to fight, but it proved fruitless as she was subdued by her old self's constricting clutch coming from behind.

"No matter how well you lie, you can't change what's true." Her own voice brought her to tears. "And what's true is that you belong here; this is who you are." Light from beyond the pit of evil began dimming. "You'll never get up there. Someone's covering that hole to keep monsters like you away. This is your real home, and you know that. Here, you can be awful and all alone ... forever."

To this and complete darkness, Sunset sobbed. "No! NO! I'm not-" She stopped herself as the sensation of being held down left and nothing could be seen. Four steps forward walked her right into a stone wall.

Stepping to the side with her arms reaching out did the same; all around were walls, the ceiling was just above her, and everything became silent.

Rain, which had been present -- at least in the background -- since the beginning, ceased.

Peace and quiet for Sunset to cry alone was nice for all of one minute. Once that time elapsed, she was hyperventilating and banging on all the walls while tears fell and saturated Sunset's slippers and socks. "Hello?" she called to get no answer save her own echo. "Hello?" she repeated ... no answer. "HEY!" she screamed, "I can't- hic- breathe in here! Somebody! Anybody! HELLO?"

Of course, there was no response, her breathing became more stertorous, and something started grazing her ankles through her soaked socks. Reaching down evidenced a buildup of water only getting deeper. Suddenly her heart rate matched her speed of breath.

Crying continued and Sunset busted her fists on the walls for some time, receiving still no help, before the raising water level reached her face. "Please!" she begged, "I can't! I'm gonna ... "

When a splash of the liquid touched her lips she recognized a pinch of salt.

No no no no! I'm not actually gonna die ... gonna drown ... like this? Tears were as incessant as she believed the prior rain to be, the water carried her to press her face against a rock ceiling, and she took in the last labored breath from the small space she thought she ever would as she asphyxiated in herself and clawed at walls she couldn't see.

Unsure how she arrived from the water-filled chamber, a road presented itself before her; it traveled to infinity in both directions and had nothing but black around it. In fact, it made no sense that she could see it granted there was no visible light.

Nevertheless she, wet, shivering, and cold, stumbled in one direction -- leaving a trail of tears in her wake.

Soon the sound of rain began anew and the tunnel of eyes returned. However, she wasn't on the conveyor belt this time. Instead, the judgment precipitated on a loop, chastising her for her blind hunger for power, and she found herself riding through it on the back of Shimmer's motorcycle.

Peace didn't come, but at least she could hide her face behind the driving girl to avoid the stares. Doing so transported her to a new location, her bed, where she sobbed into and squeezed her pillow.

'Whatever stops the tears ... ' came to her with a start as she reared away from the pillow and pulled her knees to her chest before rocking back and forth -- crying into them instead of cloth. Of course, by this time, she knew better than to try wiping the liquid away; it was bound to fall and fall until she deluded herself into feeling better -- into believing that what she had done was in the past and it was no more than a dream.

Four hours hadn't passed since she arrived home and she rocked for another hour before her face began drying. Most of her time awake after that moment was spent staring at Octavia's thermos and the words which calmed her to a slight degree.

Displayed on her phone's screen was 4:15 when a yawn escaped her. However, she refused sleep in favor of stepping outside so brisk air could sting her senses. Five minutes later, alas, she was scared inside.

Clouds rolled over the sky, humidity increased, and a flash preceded -- by three seconds -- a growling, cracking noise which smashed through the night like a sledgehammer over thin ice. Sunset, of course, went to her room once more and cowered beneath her covers with her hands over her ears in a feeble attempt to blot out any such sounds. Still, nature assaulted with loud claps and -- soon -- a battering rain sounded too.

Nothing proved to calm her quivering form throughout the storm -- which persisted until 7:53 that morning.

Even after the end, small spurts of rain could be heard pattering on various things outside. Sunset stayed under the covers for the following 40 minutes until a conviction reached her.

I hate storms.

Bzzt! Her phone interrupted her brooding with a call and a realization that school began some time back. Well, fuck it. I'm not going. Answering the device brought Celestia's voice, asking what she was doing, to her attention. "I'm still in bed. I feel like I caught a cold after last night." she dismissed the principal with a lie she didn't have to consider before vocalizing. 'Such a good liar' Sunset loathed herself but ignored her inner recognition.

"I can't say that's surprising; really, Sunset, what were you doing here yesterday?"

This is an opportunity. Shimmer's words returned like a boomerang. 'Just tell the truth ... the whole story ... What's so hard about that?' For a time, it seemed like it was something easy; all Sunset had to do was ask if there were other students around and, if there weren't, explain everything -- how Gilda was treating her, what actually happened to her friends ... Shimmer's right, Sunset, it's not hard.

"Uh ... Mmm, I- eh," she began but panicked as language failed her. "I don't know, really, it just happened. I need to sleep, but I'll call if I start feeling well enough to come."

Celestia gave an acknowledging hum, the call ended, and Sunset threw her phone away from the bed before burying herself as deep as possible under the covers to continue sulking. 'Where I belong' is right. ' ... such a good liar.' More tears fell for a while as she hid for another couple hours until one phrase struck her.

' ... feel like an idiot.'

Anger replaced self loathing as she threw the covers off her, sat on her bed, and buried her face in her palms. "Agh!" she groaned muffled disdain. "You 'feel like an idiot' because you are an idiot, Sunset!"

Shimmer's words hit again. 'You're not an idiot for ... that.'

Hence remembering this, Sunset sprang to her feet and started pacing in fury. "Of course I'm an idiot for that! It's stupid to know what you need, or want, to do or say and just not do it, right?"

You're sure that's what's stupid, or is it just stupid if you can say or do it? What if you're so ingrained in, I don't know, fear or something that you can't? Is it stupid then?

Ignoring that she was about to converse with herself, Sunset answered, "Absolutely! Yes- No ... maybe. I don't know, but I've definitely been acting stupid!" Pacing ceased for a moment so she could punch the air downward and shake her head a few times. "Ugh!"

That we can agree on

Sunset recalled her interactions with Gilda, the ride home, the dreams, seeing her face the night before ... "Stupid," she repeated and continued pacing.

Is that what Shimmer would think if she knew everything? What would she say if she, for instance, knew you could hardly look yourself in the mirror?

Groaning and increasing her pace, Sunset growled, "Yes, that's what she'd think! She would think I'm being stupid; I have been being stupid! Ugh, I'm stupid, Trixie's stupid, people at school are stupid, Gilda's a damn moron. Hell, Shimmer's stupid and annoying! Who cares what she thinks anyway?"

First, you're not being fair to yourself or Shimmer. Second, you care what she thinks, and -- third -- she's not annoying; she's actually been more respectful than anyone save maybe Flutter.

"Ugh, shut up! Shimmer is annoying; she's butting her head into business that's really not hers!"

Is she? Or is she just noticing that you're going through a really rough time and wants to be there for you? How many people are considering how you might be feeling and demonstrating that they're there to support you?

To this, Sunset held either temple in her palms, fell back first onto her bed, kicked a few times, and hissed, "Shut up, shut up, shut up!" But one moment of null thought passed in which Sunset took a few deep breaths, closed her eyes, and massaged her temples.

Sunset. Continued thought prompted she tear her eyes open and smack the backs of her palms against the mattress. Nobody's talking to you. You're alone in your room; I'm just a part of you that's seriously concerned you've gone well off the deep end and actually lost the ability to reason. Jumping to her feet, Sunset ignored the logical conclusion of what this part of her existing meant and continued trudging in a small circle.

"No one asked you! I'm sick of this, I'm sick of it all, and I'm sick of you, so shut it already! You don't know what you're talking about! Shut up!"

We were literally just here. Are you aware of the definition of 'insanity'?

"Of course I'm aware-" Realization dawned. Sunset stopped walking, staggered back while raising a few fingers to her forehead, and stretched her eyelids to their limits.

What's the saying? 'It's okay to talk to yourself, but the minute you start answering yourself ... '

Sunset panicked, "S-something different! I-I need ... s-something ... "

Now you're getting it. Fear flushed her mouth to a deep frown.

"It's like there's someone in my head but ... Anything! A-anything different! Uh ... Uhh ... " Bzzt! Bzzt! Her phone, as if on cue, notified her of a message from its location tossed on the floor. "Oh, stars above! Please, save me from myself! Come on, come on," she pleaded as she made for the device, "Be my hero for-" Seeing the message's identifying tag read 'Shimmer," Sunset threw the phone on her bed and turned away. "Nope. I refuse to accept her as my hero; it would just be too ironic."

You did say anything, if you recall. Annoyance at her thoughts festered.

"I know what I said!"

Do you? Becau- Turning back to her device, in conclusion that whatever Shimmer wanted was a better use of her time and energy than arguing with her own head, proffered a distraction.

'Hey, when you get a free moment could you shoot me a call?' the text read.

"Ugh, you're the last person I think it would be a good idea to talk to right-"

Oh, because you've had so much fun talking to a kind of yourself that's not even audible? Sunset pressed the 'call' button after almost no time devoted to weighing the options or preferences.

Two rings passed before Shimmer answered. Sunset asked, with a pretense that everything was normal, "What's up?" However, in contrast, the voice that responded had no such facade; it was the stuttering mess of a person caught entirely off guard.

"Wha- H-hey, uh, S-Sunset, I uh- w-wasn't expecting y-y-you to ... Ahem, a-aren't you in school?"

Sunset wondered what had the girl nervous and, hence, poked, "Not today. What did you want?"

"W-well, I had just ... See, the- there was thi- I had this idea after a while where I was ... Ugh ... Look, this is gonna sound kinda weird, but can we just meet so I can say this to your face? It's a little hard to put into words."

Without resisting the urge to chuckle at the poor articulation -- that's pretty mean, at least she can say what she wants to. -- Sunset cleared her throat, asked, "Sure, do you remember the address?" and waited to see if she would have to say where she lived.

"Yeah, I'll be over in, like, an hour." Shimmer hang up faster than anyone in any phone call which Sunset had ever participated in.

Clarity of though somewhat returned to Sunset when a goal and plan were brought to attention. I wasn't being mean, or trying to at least; it was just obvious that I surprised her, she didn't know what to say, and it was a little funny. I'm sure she thinks it was ridiculous too. No response came and Sunset turned her thoughts to curiosity.

Rambling all over the place, ' ... hard to put into words.' and she has some 'idea' she wants to say to my face. Some possibilities flashed through her mind but she disregarded most as illogical. Well, damn, the only way to find out is to wait. Despite that thought, just waiting seemed an unpleasant idea, so she concocted a plan. Shower, then coffee, and wash stuff if there's time after. Easy.

Distracted musings about what Shimmer was going to say, though, delayed her plan, she wandered for 20 minutes wondering before showering, and her phone displayed that the call happened 47 minutes ago when she put water on to boil.

Okay, we'll have the heat closer to medium and have coffee after Shimmer leaves.

Leaving the water in confidence, Sunset took her time washing Octavia's thermos and handkerchief over her sink; she found them both to be of exquisite make in color and material. Shame I have to give 'em back. Oh well.

Upon finishing the chore, she found her phone to read that the call occurred 58 minutes prior, so she went outside her room to a stair which let her see into the parking lot -- drumming palms against her thighs, swaying from side to side, and thinking, 'what could it be, what could it be?' on repeat for a few minutes.

Cold somewhat bothered her hands and ankles as she waited but the areas had become well conditioned to the element. She did say 'like' an hour, Sunset. Riding toward the curious girl on that thought's heels -- on a death-cheating machine -- was Shimmer; Sunset first welcomed the fact that she was looking down upon arriving, but knew that eye contact couldn't be avoided forever.

It's not you and it's not ... Sunset steeled herself but trailed off as she realized Shimmer was mouthing something. She's rehearsing what to say even though she's had an hour to do so. She and Flutter would probably get along pretty well.

This thought was supported when Shimmer slowly dismounted her death trap with a fine-looking bag Sunset hadn't noticed if she had before, slipped it off one shoulder, and approached with a rigid posture.

Nothing like you, Sunset, or at least the old you. You can do this. Just don't look away. It'll be easy; she's not gonna be ... terrible and mean like you are- were ... most likely. "Hey," Shimmer greeted after a few shaky steps -- pulling Sunset from her thoughts. Of course, Sunset had a response to gauge the girl's nervousness, and get things over with, in seconds.

"Heya, I'm not gonna torture you with small talk, so just tell me what you wanna talk about."

"Oh, r-right. Uh ... " Super nervous. Come on, I wanna know already! Shimmer looked away, back again, and opened her mouth but didn't continue. You're killing me over here, dammit! Finally, the slow roller appeased Sunset's wish. "Okay, so, I had been thinking a lot about- wait, that's ... You know what: I've never done this before and I'm probably going to mess it up if I keep talking. Just ... "

Shimmer opened her bag, retrieved, and held out something very pretty to Sunset; it was white-backed box at least a foot long with red-and-yellow tulips painted on its front and surrounded by different blue, purple, and black spirals or wisps. " ... here." Shimmer finished.

Hiding any awe, Sunset raised a brow to her counterpart, took the -- discovered not light -- box, and joked with rolling eyes, "Neat box, thanks."

"I'm more giving you what's in the box, but you're welcome." Shimmer returned with her own rolling eyes, grinned, and shook her head. Maybe it was that Sunset couldn't look at herself without feeling shame, or maybe it was that nobody had ever been so ... casual with her before, but she was happy to have something else to look at for a second's reprieve.

Just maintain eye contact. Sunset returned her gaze to Shimmer's to find the girl beaming, clasping her hands behind her back, and somewhat bouncing up and down. Before Sunset could open the thing, she had to ask, "What's this for? I don't remember giving you anything, after all."

Bouncing stopped and Shimmer's smile became a frown accompanied by wide eyes. "I mean, I j-just didn't w-want you to ... " Oh, Sunset leapt to a conclusion.

"You think I'm mad at you?"

"Well ... "

Now I get it. "And you think that giving me this is gonna get you on my 'good' side?"

After a glance away, Shimmer muttered, with a sheepish half smile, "Guilty."

"Welp," Sunset started whilst opening the container. "Hate to break it to you, Shimmer, but -- whether I'm mad at you or not -- there is nothing you have that-" Words wantonly wrenched themselves back down Sunset's throat as she unveiled the box's contents; she slapped a hand over her mouth to hold her lips down, looked to discover less-high-on-the-calf shoes on Shimmer, back to the girl's face, to the box again, and repeated the circuit a couple times. "You're giving me your boots?" Sunset whispered while pulling the footwear -- which was neatly placed in colored tissue -- into the air by their calves.

Shimmer brought her hands in front of her, grabbed an arm, and answered, "Well, they are my favorite." You're giving me your favorite boots? "So I can't say I would never want them back, b-but I just ... You're a-always in those slippers even though it's c-cold -- and it's just getting worse! -- so I figured maybe you didn't have anything better a-and ... " You hit the nail on the fucking head.

There's that 'consideration' thing we mentioned. Sunset failed to string together a response.

"I did- I don't- You didn't ... How do ... " There was a phrase within her vocabulary but she couldn't say, 'this is the greatest thing anyone's ever done for me.' No, she can't know how happy this makes you.

Hence, keeping a hand over her lips, she said, "I don't have anything like this for you."

"Sunset, it's a gift; that means you don't have to give me anything back." These words shook Sunset to reality, she narrowed her eyes, threw her hand from her face to Shimmer, and leaned toward the other girl. Now I know something's up. Nobody just gives you something without intending to collect.

Dead seriousness overtook as Sunset interjected, "What do you want?"

"What? Sunset, I just said-"

"You're not a good liar, Shimmer. You're being really nice to me and I want to know why." At this, Shimmer stepped back, Sunset followed with a strong step, and Shimmer nearly jumped back before waving both hand in front of her.

"I swear! I just want us to be friends! No ulterior motives. I promise!"

Paying attention to wide eyes and a ready-to-run demeanor, Sunset stepped back, looked at the boots, and sighed. I don't want to scare you. Just tell me what you want! You don't honestly expect me to believe you're just ... going to let me use these without getting something for yourself. Do you? "All you want is for us to be friends?" she asked to get a nod. "So, if I say I don't accept you as a friend, you'll want these back right?"

"Sunset, has anyone given you a gift before?"

" ... "

"Ever?"

Hearing this gave Sunset pause but she dodged the query. "Answer my question." Then it became Shimmer's turn to go quiet for a moment.

Pinching her nose's bridge and looking down before throwing an open hand toward Sunset, she obliged, "No, Sunset, this isn't a deal; it's a choice and, if you don't want to be friends ... Okay, I'll be hurt but I won't tell you to give my favorite shoes back." Sunset staggered back to hit the back of her foot against the stairs leading toward her room. D-don't make it look like you're the victim here! You're trying to get something out of me; I know it!

However, despite suspicion and confusion, Sunset accepted things with one qualifier. "If I ever find out there was something more to this, being 'friends' is going to be far from accurate, so this is your last chance to tell me. Understand?" Silence overtook for a time but Shimmer soon nodded and brought both hands to her chest.

"I just want things to be well between us, but, yes, I get it." Neither party said anything after this -- just stared at one another. Do not look away, Sunset. Shimmer broke the contact first and then the air by mentioning, "Uh, so, I know this probably sounds dumb after all that, but ... Will you try them on? I just sort of assumed our sizes were pretty close. If they're uncomfortable, I can take them back. I-I just ... t-thought ... "

Sunset silenced anything more by placing the shoes on asphalt beneath, removing her slippers, and pressing foot after foot into the beautiful, kempt boots which reminded her of her old ones. Of course, there was a zipper on either one to be undone and resituated, but Sunset found them to fit like they were made for her.

Just say they fit -- nothing more.

"They're perfect!" slipped out at the ergonomic feel around her feet. Shimmer had a big -- Sunset would've called it a shit-eating smirk -- smile on her face.

"Great! Guess I'll, uh ... just leave you to-" Oh no, you are not indebting me that easy.

"Wait!" Sunset called as the motorcyclist began turning. Dammit, what do I even have? Cold air bit her hands and face (but not her ankles) and an idea developed. "Do you -- I mean I figure you aren't busy -- uh, like hot chocolate at all?"

Time wasn't something Shimmer took before answering, "Do people breathe? Yes I like hot chocolate." Offering something shed light on an enigma Sunset had before. Okay, I see why you were nervous, but you don't have to be that nervous I don't think.

"Well, I was going ... to, uh ... make coffee but-" Sunset looked toward the stairwell for an excuse to stop talking. At least I didn't think you have to be. "I mean, I could bring you down some if you'd like."

Like it wasn't a question, Shimmer stamped forward -- prompting Sunset to stare into eyes which made her sick in an 'I-don't-know-how-to-act' sense more than a guilty one -- and said, "I would like that very much."

"Okay, I'll just ... Wait right here. It'll be just a sec." There was a short hum Sunset was overjoyed to be leaving. However, when she entered her room there was something else to be jovial over; she kicked her metal stove a few times as she prepared two mugs of hot cocoa with a profuse smile across her face. No stubbed toes! Haha! It's like magic!

Still, before she left to rejoin Shimmer, she told herself, be serious, Sunset. She can't know.

Alas, after she returned to Shimmer with the mugs and sat down to enjoy the beverage, she was caught staring at the boots and giddily clacking them together. "Working well to keep your feet warm?" Shimmer remarked.

Sunset locked her knees and feet together before replying, "No! I mean, er, not very- uh ... a little." How do I say 'thank you' without feeling like I lost here? can I say it without feeling like that? she pondered whilst glaring into her hot drink. Of course, Shimmer giggling only caused her to pour the searing liquid down her throat to hide any semblance of embarrassment.

"Does this mean, I just want to be sure, that we're friends, then?"

Without looking, Sunset constructed the answer, "Well, I don't hate you if that's what you mean." Staring to the boots wasn't resisted, and Shimmer expressed that she noticed it with a chuckle.

"So the boots were a good choice?" Whirling to face a provocative, raised brow, Sunset nudged Shimmer's shoulder in discontentment with a shaking head.

"Never mind, I take it back; you're the worst!"

Laughter from both ensued but most of the experience following was spent in silence. Nothing pressing, things are quiet, we're not playing 20 questions ... This is nice, Sunset realized only to have it taken away by Shimmer asking, "Sunset, can I ask you something?" Here we go, and it was perfect 'til you just ruined it.

"You just did, but you can ask me something else if you want. Can't guarantee I'll like it, though."

"Well, I was just wondering: have you been getting enough sleep?" Sunset froze. Shit. She noticed. Just say you were busy and up late last- "Don't just tell me it was one rough night either; every time I see you, you have this distant stare like you aren't really here, and today you even have bags under your eyes. I was hoping ... that's the reason you almost never look at me?"

Sunset repeated, "Bags?" to receive a tilted head from Shimmer.

"You mean you don't know?"

How do I respond to that? With 'the truth'? She noticed, Sunset, you have to say something! Of course she noticed! You're always looking away from her and you hardly slept last night! Gah, you idiot! Just 'be honest'.

"Uh ... " she started in a fruitless attempt to collect herself. "Eh ... err ... Mmmm ... " She stopped herself before bringing a hand to her forehead. 'Incoherent garble' is right you imbecile! Just say it! You think she had a problem speaking earlier? You're the one with a speech impediment!

Trying again resulted in Shimmer interrupting, "Sunset I- I'm sorry. I shouldn't have- Thank you for the wonderful time and drink, but I should really go." She replaced herself in the stair they sat at with her mug and went to mount her bike without another word.

'NO! Wait! I want to tell you! Just give me time, please!' Sunset failed to say as Shimmer rode away. No ...

Minutes passed where Sunset sat in silence -- thinking. 'Shimmer's annoying.' She's literally just given you something you know to be one of the best things ever invented and you -- what -- can't give her a few simple answers? She's being really patient but she must be so frustrated with you. Ugh! I need something to- Glancing down at boots which were sort of hers, she made a choice rather fast.

I know exactly what I need to do.

Author's Note

Dammit, I swear to every deity which has ever been conceived by civilization: I can write a chapter that's fewer than 6k words. I know I can do it; I'm just clearly failing to. Whatever.

Anyway, I figure that, since I wrote way too much the previous two chapters in Shimmer's perspective (I sort of want to start evenly alternating between the two), I'll write two from Sunset's.

Next one, I promise, 5k words or fewer. No, really, I mean it this time. I really do. I really, really mean it, and I'm not trying to convince myself of that; I really mean it. I think.

Enjoy!