Sunset Shimmer Makes a Sandwich
Admiral Biscuit
Sunset clutched her coat a little bit tighter around her slender body as another snow-laden gust of wind threatened to tear it off. The zipper had broken last month; foolishly believing that winter was over, Sunset hadn't bothered to give her jacket to Rarity to fix, a mistake she now regretted.
As she bent her head into the blowing snow, she was also fondly remembering that when she'd been a unicorn, her own coat had been a good protector from the winter wind—her furry face hadn't frozen nearly as quickly as it did here, and her extremities didn't get particularly cold, either.
Wearing her skirt to school had been a mistake, although an understandable one, since she had assumed that since it was nearly spring and all last week had been spring-like, today would be no exception. Sunset had completely forgotten that over here, weather forecasting was at best an educated guess, and the seasons had no ponies to regulate them.
Luckily, it was only a short walk from the bus station to her home, and while she did have to strip off a glove to open the lobby door, it was only a moment of cold before she was safely ensconced in the warmth of her apartment building.
She kicked the snow off her boots in the entryway, and then made a brief detour to check her mailbox before heading upstairs, now with a small bundle of junk mail in her grasp. Why people would keep on sending her offers despite her complete lack of response was beyond her.
Once inside her apartment, Sunset slipped off her boots with her toe, then went into the little dining nook. She set her junk mail on the table and her backpack on the chair, and then hung her coat over the back of the same chair. Any meltwater that came off her jacket wouldn't hurt the linoleum floor.
With that taken care of, she went down the short hallway to her bedroom to change into something more comfortable.
Just the feeling of fabric against her formerly bare legs provided the illusion of warmth, and by the time Sunset had gotten to the kitchen, the blustery snow outside was fast becoming a fond memory instead of a portent of frostbite and hypothermia.
Lunch at the school cafeteria was never quite filling enough to last through until dinnertime, so Sunset sorted through her cupboards and fridge for sandwich supplies.
Humans have it easy when it comes to food, she thought. The bread, cheese, and lunchmeat all came pre-sliced, and she could have gotten tomatoes that way, too, if she'd wanted too, but that felt a little bit too lazy to her.
It didn't take her very long to assemble her sandwich, and she returned the meat and cheese to their places and got out mustard and mayonnaise.
Here, too, human innovation had improved convenience, and her condiments came in squeezable bottles with little nozzles. It was not unlike frosting a cake, and Sunset made a circle of mayo and then started drawing a five-pointed star inside with the mustard.
She had just started the final leg of the star when she started to smell sulfur in her apartment. It was very faint, but just the same, she set the mustard bottle down and lifted the sandwich to her nose, sniffing it curiously. Has it gone off?
Even with her less-than-sensitive human nose, Sunset didn't smell anything wrong with her sandwich, so she shrugged and picked up the mustard, finishing her star, and then covering it with the top slice of bread.
As she set the mustard bottle back down, she idly noted that there was a bit of a brimstone odor, as well.
She picked up the plate, and then a slight feeling of unease made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up and she spun and was face-to-face with a demon.
He was slightly hunched over; her apartment didn’t have a tall enough ceiling to accommodate him. His wrist-guards were spiked, a scythe was slung across his back, and a sword hung from his belt. His bare chest was coated with scars, and she could feel the heat radiation off his body. His eyes were pools of magma and his mouth a jumble of fangs.
Any normal girl would have screamed, or fled in terror, or at least dropped the sandwich in shock. Sunset Shimmer did none of those things, for she'd seen shit that would make a lumberjack weep.
“Who are you?” she demanded.
“I am Rakdos, Lord of Riots.” His voice was an avalanche, rumbling and booming around her, and even when he had finished speaking his words hung heavy in her apartment.
Sunset merely nodded and thrust the plate forward.
With a look of surprise, the demon took the plate, holding it with a delicacy that belied his giant, gnarled hands. He brought the plate close to his face, and examined the sandwich thoughtfully, unconsciously tilting his head side to side as he studied it. Finally, he picked it up and took a small, experimental bite out of one corner.
Neither of them spoke as he ate, for no words were needed. Sunset opened the fridge and poured him a glass of milk, and offered that to him as well. And when he had finished eating, the demon carefully set the plate and empty milk glass on the counter and gave Sunset an inscrutable look.
And then, like the clouds breaking after a thunderstorm, he smiled.
Even with the fangs showing through his ruddy lips, it was without a doubt a genuine smile. “Thank you,” he said, and one of his hands trailed briefly across Sunset's jacket, and a moment later he was gone as quickly as he'd come. The only evidence of his presence was a lingering smell of sulfur and the dirty dishes beside the sink.
Sunset let out a sigh, and went over to study her coat. It was undamaged; in fact, it was better than before—the zipper now worked perfectly. A small thing, perhaps, but a nice thing.
She was going to have to write a letter to Twilight, but that could wait. Sunset went back to the fridge and opened it up, getting her sandwich ingredients back out. She was still hungry, after all.
Author's Note
Pre-read by AShadowOfCygnus
Blog post HERE
