As I stir from a dreamless slumber, I can already feel my inner magics going back to the way they were. Can’t say that I’m too surprised to find the blue glow to be nothing more than a faint distortion of my otherwise normal sight. Would probably be necessary to conserve magic in a world that doesn’t seem to have any apparent ambient magical field, I note as I sit up on my futon. That does beg the question of where Sunset and her friends get their excess.

A groan escapes my throat as I struggle to find my eye patch in the early morning brightness. It isn’t far, of course: just beneath a pillow I don’t remember having here when I went to sleep. I guess Sunset got sick of my snoring and tried to smother me in my sleep... or she got up in the middle of the night, saw me without a pillow, and decided to be a good host. One of the two.

Sucking in a deep breath through my nose, I pull the eye patch on and sit upright in my blanket nest. It is good to find that I am still clothed in what I went to sleep in. Definitely reaffirms that she’s being a good host, and not going all Misery on me. It’s not that I don’t trust her or anything; you gotta remember that she’s the absentee daughter of House Shimmer, and that her folks had me carted off to a prison in the dead of night, leaving a forged suicide note and one very scared marefriend in my dorm room. It’s hard to just separate the two now that the connection has finally sunk in.

From everything Twilight’s told me about her, though, Sunset is not like the rest of her family. She’s not like Aqua Regia—a monster created by her environment—but rather a girl who’s struggled to find her lot in life and made a few bad decisions along the way. It’s something that, if I can get past the whole drow caste insanity the Canterlot nobility had kicking around during my time in University, I can relate a great deal to.

I suck in another deep breath, pushing aside that thought. It’s the sort of thing that can wait until after I’ve eaten something and had something non-carbonated to drink. What should I think about instead, though? my mind asks me in a way that would sound challenging had it a real voice. Like I really care that much about getting more clothes.

Getting back on my feet is just a matter of pulling myself up with the assistance of the arm of the couch. From there, the distance from there to the little kitchen nook is only a few staggered steps. Well, it’s technically further, but by the time I’ve made those first steps, my gait is back to normal.

Upon reaching the counter, I fumble about the cupboards for a glass to fetch myself a drink. That’s when I notice the note taped to the microwave. At first I barely even glance at it. Instead, I’m more focused on dislodging my panties from my plush human ass-crack as I gulp down a glass of water. Why do I feel like I’m forgetting something, I wonder as I finally pay it the note any mind.

Silver Script,

Rarity had a mini-crisis when she ran out of hair product in the middle of a shower, and because I live closest and her parents are out of town for the weekend, I figured it wouldn’t hurt for me to pop out and lend her some of mine. Since you wanted to get more clothes, I figured she might be helpful, so she’ll be coming back with me.

If you’re up by the time we get back, could you try to be decent? I know you’re still used to Equestria’s casual nudity, and I can relate, but I’m pretty sure that Rarity won’t share my sentiments. Twilight never had any such problems, but then again, she wasn’t staying for an indeterminate amount of time and she took our cues well enough to get by. Just, please don’t have a repeat of yesterday. We should be there around ten.

Sunset

I glance at the clock on the microwave. It reads five after ten in the morning. Around that same moment, I hear a key in the apartment door. In walks Sunset, dressed in her riding clothes, followed by Rarity in a blue-gray top, indigo skirt, and violet knee-high stripper boots. Both of them are carrying motorcycle helmets, and everything seems normal until they look at me. Then everything seems to go into slow motion.

Both of their heads turn to regard me standing there at the sink. Sunset’s palm meets her face, while Rarity’s ashen cheeks turn scarlet even as she looks away. I look down and come to realize that my skirt came off while I slept, leaving me standing in the kitchen nook in nothing but panties and a tank top. I guess I got too hot last night?

A blush creeps across my own face as I grab for the first thing I can to hide my underwear: a cutting board on the nearby counter. Unfortunately, not enough attention was paid to the object I was grabbing, nor what was sitting atop it, for me to realize that a large chef’s knife is sitting atop it. All of our eyes widen as the knife drops from the board, on a direct course for my left foot. I clench my eyes shut and brace myself for the pain.

A gasp of alarm the other two women in the room, but the pain never comes. Slowly, I open my eyelid and peer down. Rather than finding a knife jutting out of a blood-spurting foot or a number of severed toes rolling away from a bleeding stump, I’m treated to the curious sight of the knife floating an inch above my left foot. Just barely visible is a pale green aura of magic, the likes of which I’d never seen before.

“Well, that’s new,” I say, moving my left foot well out of range of the knife should it fall. I look to Sunset and arch an eyebrow. “This your doing, kiddo?”

She turns her wide-eyed gaze from the gravity defying knife to my good eye. “That’s not me,” she croaks, an unsure look filling her eyes. “Rarity, either. Neither of us are transformed.”

Continuing to clutch the cutting board in front of my lower half, I crouch down to get a closer look at the floating knife. Sunset’s definitely not lying about it being Rarity. Having met Equestria’s fashion mogul on multiple occasions and seen her telekinesis at work, I can safely say that this is not her magic.

“Curious,” I murmur, poking the flat of the blade, which in turn gently revolves on the spot. With a smirk, I lift my patch just enough to peek at the knife without looking at either of the girls directly in front of me. “Simply fascinating.”

Though the knife is already wrapped in a tangible sheath of magic, my eye is picking up a near nonexistent aura strand stretching towards my chest. With but a mental twitch, that bit connection to the knife cuts off, dropping the blade to the ground, as though it had never considered violating gravity. I simply stare at it, a full-blown smile taking over my face.

“Was her other eye glowing just now?” I hear Rarity ask as I slide the patch back over. Something about that makes the back of my mind prickle with ideas.

“Yo, Sunset,” I call out, standing up and considering using my newfound ability to use unicorn magic to fetch my skirt. Nah, it’d be too weird. “Princess Twilight said that the girls managed to produce outward magical phenomena during a battle of bands. Did that include those whose Equestrian counterparts are non-unicorns?”

“That’s kind of out of left field, but yeah, Fluttershy did,” she replies, moving out of the way as I make for my bed. She tries not to look as I bend over to scoop up the discarded skirt beside my bed. “What of it?”

“Unaided, or did she have some sort of focus?” I crouch down behind the couch and slide on my skirt.

“She had a tambourine... what is this about?”

I shrug, before grabbing my bag and jacket. “Just building a theory of how magic functions in this world,” I reply, joining the girls at the door. “We going now, or did you want to grab a slice of cold pizza before we go anywhere?”

Rarity just stares at me, her mouth opening and closing as she tries to fathom what is even happening. Finally, she turns to Sunset and says, “Well, darling, I understand why you don’t know exactly how to cope with her.” She glances at me out of the corner of her eyes. “I dare say she’s as coherent as our Pinkie, as savvy as pony Twilight, and as modest as Rainbow.”

“Hey, don’t compare me to Pinkie Pie,” I say, putting my hands up in a warding gesture as I slip between them and out the still-open door. “Our Pinkie scares the crap out of me. I’m still trying to figure out the meaning behind my twenty-second birthday gift. Seriously, who gets a mare a cucumber, wool shears, and a muffin tin without any explanation?”

~ 04 ~

Surprisingly, or maybe not so much, Sunset’s place is practically within spitting distance of a shopping mall. For that reason, we end up walking rather than catching a bus. It’s actually kinda nice and nostalgic for me. Y’know how it goes; even if you’ve walked the streets of Canterlot, it’s not remotely comparable if you’ve walked the streets of any sprawling man-made metropolis in your lifetime.

Personally, I’d like nothing more than to listen idly to them conversing while we walk, inwardly considering this morning’s turn of events and its possible relationship to what I did last night. To some extent, I’m even able to think about it for a few moments. Much of the trip, however, is spent updating the two on the goings-on in Equestria, especially around the counterparts of their friends.

I need to give Rarity some credit where credit is due; she’s clearly trying to be skeptical of everything I’m telling her, and she’s doing an excellent job of not flipping out at the idea of having a fashion boutique in every major city, as well as being a household name. That said there’s also a very adorable skip in her gait after that revelation, and she still titters excitedly at the idea of being a bigwig in the runway scene.

As for Sunset, there honestly isn’t that much news I can give her. I mean, it was awkward enough last night when I realized her father was the stallion who hired those griffon bounty hunters to kidnap me, fake my death, and hide me in plain sight in a prison, as well as the one whose P.I. publicly outed me as an alien living among them. There’s no nice way to tell her that her father passed away under suspicious circumstances in prison after being sentenced for conspiracy, kidnapping, and unlawful restraint. To that effect, I gently inform her that her father and mother are no longer among the living, and that presently her cousin leads what remains of House Shimmer.

Let’s be more honest than I was with Sunset just now. Though I try to be a good, honest person, I know when lies of omission are necessary, especially when I am trying to keep someone from having a reason to hold a grudge against me. First and foremost, in this situation, I’m pretty sure I need to be able to work with Sunset and her friends without her lashing out at me for her dad dying in prison. Besides, I’d like to imagine that she knows on some level that her dad was into some of the hardcore backstabbery and conspiring the nobles engaged in, and that he’d be caught eventually. Not only that, there’s also that whole slip-up yesterday where she heard that someone in House Shimmer was responsible for what I went through on the day of Twilight’s coronation.

I’m just glad they didn’t bring Applejack. That would be incredibly awkward if she called me out on anything there. Especially because she could out me as being a bit of a sociopath. Even though I have every excuse to exhibit sociopathic tendencies, them knowing isn’t going to make them trust me any more than they already do, taking me at my word and all.

“So, Miss Silver Script, Sunset tells me that you’re an alchemist in Equestria,” she says in that casual ‘I want to talk but am grasping for straws’ sort of way, as we draw closer to the mall. “Can you tell me a bit about your work and what it entails?”

I smile and wonder momentarily if this world has animation analogous to the stuff kicking around back on earth. “Well, that depends on what you think alchemy is, first,” I say, hooking my thumbs in the belt holding up my nigh-bottomless bag. “I’ve heard of it depicted as the manipulation of energy and matter through the use of intricate glyphs, transmutation circles, and spiritual energy. That’s not what I work with.”

My right hand strays from the belt and slips into my bag. I feel around for my potions and, upon feeling the glyph of a relatively harmless color changing potion, pull it out to show her. “Think of a witch or wizard, standing over a cauldron, mixing a magic potion,” I say, twirling the thin test-tube shaped flask between my fingers. “That’s roughly what I do, but I don’t think I’ve ever used a full-sized cauldron since I was in school. That’s more of zebra style alchemy anyway. Then of course there’s your classical tradition of turning lead into gold, but that just devalues an already common mineral.”

The young woman eyes the flask, and it’s not hard to imagine she’s wondering what that does. “What kind of potions do you make?”

“Medicines and restoratives, mostly,” I say with relative disinterest. I pop the lid of the potion and knock it back like a shot. “I also do varying transformatives such as, but not limited to, potions that change a pony’s species or sex and those that return the drinker to their birth state without any of the genetic defects they were born with. Problem with the latter is that it makes that pony a blank slate, just like a foal.”

“You’re not about to change sex right now, are you?” Sunset asks, her eyes widening with alarm. “It’d be a bad time for that.”

“Your arse is off its rocker.” I laugh, stowing away the test tube. Holding my index finger and thumb far enough apart to indicate something small. “If I wanted to be packing, it’d be a real stallion or nothing, hon. Human toys aren’t nearly as fun as you’d think, believe me.”

With Rarity and Sunset sufficiently embarrassed in public, I indicate the skin on the back of my hand. “Nah, the potion’s just a color changing potion. Notice how my skin is taking on a peachier tone?” I explain, grabbing a lock of my hair next. “Or the indigo my mane is taking on?” I shrug and do a little pirouette as I walk. “I always keep a few random disguises potions about. I’m not famous, but even I wanna go incognito from time to time.”

The pair of them just blink and shake their heads. I could swear Rarity whispering something about eyes and hair, and something being uncanny to Sunset, but honestly I can’t be arsed enough to care. Heck, I just changed colors like a chameleon in public, and there had to have been a number of closed circuit security cameras to have caught that, and I don’t care about that, either. I’m going fucking shopping, this should be fun!

~ 04 ~

I take it back. Shopping is not nearly as fun as I expected it to be. I mean, don’t get me wrong; Rarity is every bit as qualified as her Equestrian counterpart to put together a stunning ensemble. That being said, she’s a woman largely focused on showy, feminine stuff. It took a lot of convincing before I could even get her to focus on practical things.

She is more than a little disappointed that I don’t aim to show off my ‘natural beauty’, but she still manages to cow me into getting the infamous little black dress. In the end, we settle mostly on semi-formal stuff, such as polos, button-up blouses, and a mix of skirts and pants. Plenty of socks, too. I’ll neither confirm nor deny that I may have a sexy schoolgirl-esque ensemble that just so happened to fall together.

Sunset’s a lot more helpful when it comes to the sporting goods. Neither of them aren’t sure why I’m intent on getting compression shorts, sports bras, and headbands at first, but it doesn’t take much to convince them that, with what’s coming, it’ll be better if I’m at my physical peak. I just hope that they get the implication that all of their friends should train their bodies and minds, too.

Shoes... just, no. Please. All I need are comfy shoes that I can move and run around in, and maybe some basic, black knee-high boots that I can wear during wet days. What I don’t need is to try on every pair of pumps, sandals and what have you in no less than three shoe stores in the mall. If not for the fact that Rarity’s just being obsessed about having my footwear match my outfits, I’d swear the two hours spent on shoes stem from some sort of foot fetish. Then again, I could totally see her deeming a man’s business only being worthy enough to be touched by her feet. I can’t even entertain myself with the newfound access to telekinesis because that seems to have faded back into the aether along with my petrifying gaze.

Even though all of the shopping that goes into my bag, even things the others end up buying, ends up being pretty much weightless, it’s still a pretty tiring event. I can’t be blamed for wanting to get away from them for just a little bit, can I? I mean, hell... I’ve still gotta do the whole lingerie thing, and I just know it’s going to get awkward if Rarity tries to co-ordinate that.

“Hey, I’m going to go get something to eat before we hit the last stop, alright?” I say, pausing by a split in the path leading towards the food court. “You two can go on and do whatever; meet up in say... an hour?”

“Do you promise to stay out of trouble?” Sunset asks, stopping nearby with a doubtful look in her eyes.

“Sunset, darling,” Rarity interjects, placing herself between us. Before the snark even leaves my lips, she gives me a smile. “This is a shopping mall, not the bad part of town; what’s the w—”

My once-more gray palm is over her mouth to stop her from finishing that sentence. “If there is one thing I’ve learned from the universe,” I whisper in a warning tone, “it’s never to voice that question, or even think it. It’s practically begging for trouble.” I pull my hand away from her mouth, and then give her an apologetic look. “Sorry.”

“No, I should apologize, dear,” she replies in a hesitant tone. “I forgot that trouble seems to follow you Equestria girls around, regardless, and it definitely doesn’t help that you are such a... colorful character. I shan’t begin to challenge the universe when I already worry for Canterlot if you, Applejack and Rainbow, dare I say, get into it.”

I almost tell her that they’d be hosting get-well-soon parties if that ever happened, because I don’t do fair fights, but somehow, I don’t imagine she’s talking about physical combat. Probably competition. Feh, two girls in their primes versus an bored old lady who spends her time making medicine, experimenting with unicorn potions, or finding new ways to blow up her lab... doesn’t exactly seem like a fair competition anyhow.

Instead, I do a mock salute above my right eye and then dart off toward the food court. I’m barely halfway down the hall when I can hear percussion and strings of a an indie rock band at play ahead. It’s pretty lively music, and even vaguely familiar to some extent. Probably the most noticeable thing about the music is the singer’s voice. “My name is Trixie, the sexy white haired, and so powerful.”

Figures she’d be some kind of performer here, too, right? If she’s a student in this world like the others, it’d make sense she might hold gigs in a public location on an off-day, which explains why part of the food court seems built around a stage. “I’m breaking the news now peeps; Canterlot High is the greatest!”

There’s a collective cheer from those seated around that stage as I step in, though it’s pretty obvious they’re Canterlot High students. All of them are facing the stage, seated at tables with food in various states in consumption, goading on a rather scantily clad Trixie to play another set. Those people not seated at the tables closest the stage are all lined up in front of the various restaurant storefronts, listening to the loud, but not overpowering music, as they wait to be served.

Hmm, what do I want? Neighponese? Xiao Ma? Or do I want some Mexicolt? Taco Tuesdays doesn’t seem to be busy. Now that I think about it, I don’t think there are any of the sort who might attend CHS lined up there. Just an older fellow and his wife, and then a short, tall, gangly looking fellow in a sombrero that reminds me eerily of Discord. Does that mean that there is something wrong with the food here? Meh, shortest line. If it means, I get the shits later, it’ll be worth it just to have some genuine ground beef.

As I wait in line for some tacos, I find myself easily swept up in the music, tapping my feet and bobbing my head to the beat. The next song is more of a high-energy electronica than rock, and its lyrics seem mostly repetitious bits about flying away and... How the fuck does she do that with her voice? Is she just lip syncing a recording?

The longer I wait, though, the more I begin to tune out the music and pay more attention to my surroundings. Over at the Neighponese joint, there’s one of those stereotypical dumb valley girls kicking up a fuss over the fish in her sushi—I kid you not—being raw. A bit closer to me, there’s a couple fighting over who gets the last donut. Over in a hallway marked Employees Only, there’s a bit of a ruckus going on.

“Well, look who we have here, boys!” says a voice I’ve heard often enough in my time in the Crystal Empire. “One of the three siren bitches who turned the whole school against each other.”

Huh, that’s Flash Sentry, one of Princess Cadance’s personal guards, isn’t it? Wonder why Twilight never mentioned him? She always seemed to have a crush on the pony version of him, so why would she not have mentioned his human counterpart? Was he a Crystal Prep boy? No, that wouldn’t account for what I just heard.

“Please stop,” a girl’s voice replies, a pleading, dejected tone in her voice. “I’m just trying to work...”

“Oh sure,” comes another, less familiar, voice. “You ever notice how little business Taco Tuesday does when you’re working? That’s your fault; nobody who knows who you are wants anything to do with you.”

“Yeah,” Flash says. “You and those other two ruin everything you touch; it’s a wonder old Refried Beans hasn’t fired you yet. Well, if he won’t do that for the good of his business, I guess we can always make you quit.” A crack splits the air, unmistakably the first step towards a violent encounter.

Seriously? I can’t help but sigh. The Flash Sentry I’ve met is nothing like this guy, teenage angst or not. There’s either some real fuckin’ animosity that I’m not accounting for, or I’m missing something entirely. This certainly makes things a lot more complicated... I mean, I vaguely implied that I’d be trying to stay out of trouble, but I simply cannot allow two guys—that I know of—gang up on a girl, regardless of what she might have done. I thought I was over this whole hero complex.

Shutting my eyes, I crouch down and rub at my ankle. As soon as I’m in a less fall-prone position, I mentally put aside the sounds of Trixie’s band, the idle conversations of diners, and the bustle of the crowds. It’s, strangely enough, not too hard to center myself, and quite quickly I’m able to bring myself to the mental construct at the balance point of body, mind and magic. With my body already braced, I concentrate on the mechanism, and—operating entirely on instinct—snap the mechanism sideways on its axis, balancing out all three aspects.

~ 04 ~

The girl knew almost immediately that she was in big trouble. These boys, Flash Sentry and a pair of other faces she’d seen at her short stint at Canterlot High, had her at a big disadvantage, and that wasn’t even counting their superior numbers. Ever since the battle of the bands, when she and her sisters had tried and failed to achieve true power, she’d been alone. Her sisters had abandoned her, each other, and whatever semblance they’d had of a ‘normal life’. She was beyond powerless; with her magical focus destroyed, she was unable to consume even the weakest of emotions to sustain herself, leaving her weaker every day. As it stood now, she was as weak as a human child.

Flash was the one who made the first move. A nasty backhand sent her staggering back into the waiting arms of his friends, who were all quite eager hold her by her taco mascot uniform to keep her still. The Canterlot High kids, once enraptured by her spell, were all the same when it came to Sonata Dusk now. Bruises and black eyes were quick to be replaced before they ever truly faded, so readily donated by those who once adored her. She expected this would be no different, but at the same time, this seemed to be out of the norm.

Though she could no longer control magic or feed on emotions, she was still vaguely able to pick up on magic; the awareness of Equestrian magic had, after all, allowed her to avoid those who had justly ruined her life. Even now, she could feel magic in the air, surrounding these three, but it wasn’t the pony magic she was used to. It was something different—wrong—and she could practically see it pulsing in the whites of Flash’s eyes like an inky blackness.

He was on her again in the second it took for her to pick up on this magic. A fist connected with her midsection with enough force that the foam taco encasing her did nothing to cushion the blow. The pain was so blinding that she almost didn’t even notice another taste of magic filling the air. She couldn’t even double over in pain on account of the other two goons holding her up. Then again, the next strike was worse, and then the next one.

Sonata just shut her eyes, grit her teeth, and took the punishment he dished out. None of what she’d faced at the hands of disgruntled CHS students in the past was nearly as vicious as this, but on principle, she’d had to learn to block out the pain and just let it come. It’s not like they showed any inclination towards other forms of assault... thankfully.

What had been a near torrent of blows suddenly stopped without a warning. A strangled “What the!?” escaped one of the boys holding her before she felt the grips on her arms go slack. She collapsed to the floor, clutching her midsection, barely aware enough to hear a concerned, “What the hell is going on, Flash?”

“Well, isn’t this a pity,” came a woman’s response, her barely controlled anger causing her to hiss her S sounds. “Three strapping young men beating up on a sickly little girl. What would your mothers think, boys?”

Sonata cracked one of her eyes open just enough to see all three of her attackers suspended in the air, their limbs spread like they were a chain of paper dolls. The other magic that infused their bodies was barely noticeable beneath the magical field holding them in the air, refusing their every attempt to move.

“Fuck off, pony lady,” Flash spat, trying his hardest to lean forward as if to challenge her. “You don’t know what she’s done to us, what she might one day do again! We’d be doing the world a favor.”

Sonata caught a glimpse of the her unlikely savior through the curtain of legs between them and froze. This person was unmistakably a pegasus pony by nature, based on the ease with which she was hovering in position, but she was wielding magic—genuine Equestrian magic—like a unicorn. Not even Sunset Shimmer or that Twilight pony showed this much control over magic here. Is she another princess? No, she quickly decided. This wasn’t a princess. All of the ponies Sonata had ever met before Starswirl sent her and her sisters to this world were peaceful until her sisters started to play with them; this woman, on the other hand, had near predatory bloodlust in her eye.

“Huh, I thought Twilight’s position on second chances and forgiveness had reached everyone at that School,” the woman answered coldly, pushing silvery strands of hair back, before her hand shot up to her ear. “Guess she missed some pretty nasty pieces of work while she was here.”

Though Sonata could not see Flash’s face, even from this angle she could see the change in his demeanor, and even that of the others. All of them recoiled from the gray lady as if physically slapped, and that presence of wrong magic inside them receded ever so slightly. “T-Twilight? How do you know Twilight?”

Rather than sneering at the boys, the woman’s expression softened. “She’s an old friend of mine, and hell, I practically taught her a lesson on giving people second chances when I nearly murdered her during a psychotic episode and she still helped me,” the woman explained, idly toying with her eye patch while her other hand rested on the bag on her hip. “These days, I sometimes turn into a unicorn and have magic duels with her, just so we can laugh about it together.”

Flash’s demeanor changed at once. He struggled against the woman’s magical hold once more, and even managed to wrench free one of his arms as the corrupting magic inside him surged. “You tried to hurt Twilight?” the blue-haired boy bellowed, freeing his other arm and his legs from her grip. “I’ll fucking kill you!”

Sonata watched the woman’s expression as he lunged towards her. She didn’t flinch, or brace herself, or even show fear on her face; instead, the gray lady just rolled her free blue eye, looked at Flash’s compadres, released her hold on his friends and said, “You two boys be good, or this learning experience will become a group session.” Without even looking away, Sonata could sense that they wouldn’t; whatever magical presence was possessing them seemed to have concentrated itself in Flash, feeding off of his anger. Instead, they stepped off to the side, shooting Sonata apologetic, mortified looks.

To Sonata’s surprise, the fight was over in an instant.

The gray lady folded her wings and dropped to the floor, shifting easily into a fighting stance. Her right hand darted to her the bag at her waist, and Flash, expecting maybe mace, threw his arms up in front of his face, determined to barrel her over. Instead, she threw whatever object she had in her bag at his feet when he was in swinging distance. A blob of ice exploded out from the point of impact, stopping Flash dead in his tracks.

“In the future, hon, if a guy ever gives you trouble, here’s what you do to protect yourself,” she said, pulling her knee up to her chest. “It’s not a nice thing, and it hurts them like a motherfucker, but it gets the job done.”

Pivoting on the spot, she thrust her leg out, slamming her heel directly into Flash Sentry’s groin. Even as Flash let out a squeal of pain a full octave or two higher than his normal voice, his friends cringed away, shielding their own genitals through reflex and letting out groans of sympathy. Clutching his groin, Flash crumpled backwards into an awkward heap.

“T.K.O., motherfucker,” the gray angel of testicular torment said with a smirk, watching as a plume of acrid black something exited the downed young man’s nostrils and mouth before dissipating into nothingness. She frowned at that sight, glancing back to the other two boys, who were now looking rather confused. “Aw, no round two?”

~ 04 ~

“You alright?” I ask, offering the taco costume-clad young woman a hand up. “You don’t look to good.”

Her raspberry eyes go from my hand to the two other boys standing to the side of the hallway, and then to hallway behind me, which opened to the food court. I don’t even need eyes on the back of my head to know that there’s a crowd of onlookers, youth and adult alike, at the end of the hall. She takes my hand and pulls herself up, eliciting a cheer of mixed degrees of enthusiasm from the crowd.

“Nothing an ice pack and some rest won’t fix,” she says with some forced cheeriness. Her bruised bluish-white cheeks flush purple as she pats dirt from her mascot outfit and examines it for damage. “Um, thanks, Miss...”

“Silver Script, you?” I say her, wiping a veritable curtain of sweat from my brow with my free sleeve. “This hallway come out in another part of the mall, or somewhere out of the way?”

The young lady I’ve just so heroically ballbusted a guy for nods and, not releasing my hand, leads me further down the hallway to a room that has a sign declaring it Food Court Employee Lounge. “My name’s Sonata Dusk, but... if you know Twilight Sparkle like you said you do, you probably knew that already.” She releases my hand, and leans in close. “Speaking of alright, you aren’t looking too good yourself.”

Now that she mentions it, I am feeling pretty lightheaded. Shaking my head, I make my way over to a chair and seat myself. “No, I’m pretty sure I burned too much magic,” I explain as I fumble through the bag at my hip for the burner phone. My head throbs, and then I feel the wings on my back break down into nothing, and my ears migrate and reshape. “I don’t know how Twilight and the girls do it, but forcing myself... haven’t felt like this since the first time I became a unicorn and burned myself out.” I clutch the phone to my chest and look away. “Beats other things.”

I watch as Sonata walks over to a mini-fridge in the corner, noting a slight limp in her gait. She fetches two bottles of water, and passes one to me. “I won’t lie, I don’t get half of what you’re saying,” she says, holding the bottle against the bruise forming on her cheek. “I get rough, though. Kinda had a hard time since... yeah.” She raises her eyebrow as I open the water bottle one-handed and take a swig. “So... why’d you help me? That Twilight girl and that Sunset Shimmer were kind of at odds with me and my sisters. If you’re associated with their lot, doesn’t that make us enemies? Or does you saving me make us frenemies?”

I nearly choke on my water when I snort in amusement. Wiping away a trickle of water from my nostril, I smile at her. “Sonata, didn’t you hear a thing I said to ol’ Flashlight back there?” I lean back in the chair and stare down at the phone in my hand. “You didn’t kill anyone, right?” She shakes her head. “Did you ever make someone suffer for no other reason than your own amusement?” Again, she shakes her head. “Have you ever sexually assaulted someone?”

She drops her water and stares at me. “Ew, no! What the heck is wrong with you!?”

“Those are three things I can’t forgive a person for.” I shrug, before giving her a soft smile. “As far as I’m concerned, you’re absolved of your sins, and from the looks of things, you’ve done more than your fair share of penance.” I flick through the settings menu on my phone and then offer it to her. “This is my number, Sonata. I’m getting the eerie feeling that the events that brought me here is tied to what just happened in the hall back there. If you see anything strange, or if you ever want someone to talk to, feel free to gimme a call.”

As she pulls out her phone and seemingly inputs the number into her contact list, I consider whether I did the right thing. I mean, to some extent I’m dealing with time travel related shenanigans, and there’s a vague point in the future at which the past iteration of me could not get past. By helping Sonata today, have I ensured that we can’t reach that point? Or conversely, have I made a potential ally? Did the other me even encounter her during her time here?

At any rate, it’s certainly something I can talk to Sunset about. Even if she doesn’t know anything about my previous iteration’s dealings, I can at the very least talk to her about maybe extending an olive branch to Sonata. Turnabout is fair play and all; it’d be good for them both. Maybe I could take them both out to dinner and then sit them down and work out some kind of accord?

I’m jerked out of my introspection by the ringing of my phone. Even Sonata is caught off guard, because she nearly drops the bloody thing. She manages not to—thank fuck—and instead brings it to me. “Oh boy,” I say, looking at the caller ID. “It’s Sunset. She told me to stay out of trouble; wanna bet she’s pissed?”

Sonata gives me this look of incredulity. “Look, I admit I can be a bit of a ditz at times, but I’m no dummy,” she replies, crossing her arms in front of her and frowning. If not for the mascot outfit, it might even have been a bit intimidating; instead, it’s absolutely adorable. “Oh, wait... that was a rhetorical question, wasn’t it?” Okay, seriously, I’m not sure if it’s legal or not, but I kinda wanna hug this kid. Reminds me a bit of Clara.

I hit answer on the phone, and hold it an inch or two away from my ear. “Hey, Sunset,” I say as casually as I’m able. My voice is a bit shaky, though whether I’m actually nervous or just suffering burnout is another matter. “What’s up?”

It’s a good thing I didn’t put the phone up to my ear, really. “Don’t you “What’s up?” me!” she shouts on the other end. “I just wanted you to stay out of trouble! You weren’t even gone ten minutes and I hear you Ponied Up in front of a crowd and gave some of my classmates an off-season showing of the Nutcracker on Ice before running off with one of the sirens! It’s all over social media! What gives!?”

“The too short, don’t care version is this, Sunset,” I say, trying to hold back my laughter at her description of my ‘fight’ with Flash. “Flash Sentry blah blah possessed blah blah attacked Sonata Dusk. I blah blah Pony Up blah crowd blah blah magic blah alchemy blah blah kicked him right in the nuts. So as you can see, she needed help and I’m in the right.”

Sonata bursts out laughing at the exact same time Sunset’s strangled cry of fury comes through my phone. I can’t help but join her. I mean, come on; I’d almost fucking pay to have seen her expression when I said that. Can you imagine? That’s what she gets for letting Rarity compare me to the Pink One.

“Rarity, nobody will ever find her body,” I hear Sunset say over the phone, followed by some very posh sounding laughter. “It’s not funny!”

“In all seriousness, though, Sunset,” I add in a placating tone, “I’m pretty sure this ties in with why I’m here. After I rang his bells, some real creepy looking black stuff came out of his nose and mouth and faded into nothing; tell me that’s normal.”

Judging by her disgruntled noise, I think I’m in the dog house. Maybe I can bunk with Sonata until Sunset doesn’t feel the need to kill me? I mean, she’s probably way older than Sunset in the literal sense, so it wouldn’t actually be creepy... right?

Author's Note

So, here we are, with the return of a snarkier, mostly care-free Silver Script.

But what of the otherworldly presence possessing Flash and those other two? Is it gone for good like a one-episode filler baddie? Or is it by chance the harbinger of things to come? And Sonata Dusk... Was she supposed to die today, or was Silver always destined to—

DarkxRedemption: That nutcracker on ice pun made me spit my drink out

Mission accomplished.