Dazzling Friendshipby ShimcastChaptersCHAPTER 1: Somewhat o'clock in the morning.CHAPTER 2: Of oceans and ice.CHAPTER 3: Cinnamon?CHAPTER 4: Good morning.CHAPTER 1: Somewhat o'clock in the morning.It was a cold morning — of course, not comparable to what Equestria had offered her in the past, but still mildly inconveniencing. Dawn had just beckoned its end, allowing few rays of dim sunlight to shimmer through the thick treetops, cloaking the street in tightly packed shadows. The girl was bored to death — the absence of sound, except for that of distant motor engines failing to start, not helping. Normally the others would've been with her, making the minutes of waiting turn into seconds, and the seconds melt away. However, that was not the case — she was alone, standing there on the cold pavement, trying not to scream to entertain herself. And so, like she did way too often these days, she began untangling the wad that was her mind. In the process of creating shopping lists and handling other tiresome thoughts however, she failed to notice that with every string of thought she managed to get ahold of, more and more words escaped her mouth — making her slowly begin a conversation with herself. “Ah, w͠hy did I convince myself to show up half an hour early?” she said, moaning over her stupidity. “And wh͟y did I tell the others I'd be fine waiting alone?” Groaning, she leaned against the lamppost next to her, her eyes aimlessly trailing off into the distance. "P-perhaps..." Sunset had pulled on the wrong strings, making her stumble upon a long-forgotten, no, a long-suppressed feeling. A feeling, which, considering what it had brought her in the past, had become nothing but a synonym for sadness. "Nah, that's horse crap," she declared, chuckling away her tears and what she knew to be true — deep deep down, trapped in a pit she'd one day fall in without return. "Must've been me being overzealous I suppose. Jeez, how much did I drink that night to spout such trash? I always sound like some self-righteous cunt when I'm drunk." A long pause disrupted her half-awake ramblings, giving herself enough time to come to a rather grim conclusion... The eyes of the hamster running in its wheel inside her head went wide open; hers following. “Oh buck! I always sound like Rainbow Dash! Heh, at least only when I'm horsed. Still, might as well consider getting drunk on bleach then, I guess.“ A cackle escaped her mouth, indicating that jokes and alcohol — her favorite scapegoat — had once more helped her escape the dark truth reaching not for her mind, but heart. Sunset continued a little more with her chatter but soon felt the words become heavier and heavier. Slurred over her icy lips, they seemed to pull on her eyelids. And so, together they — the lack of rest, the absence of a distraction and her self-sung lullaby — slowly nagged on Sunset's caffeine-induced state of being awake. She tried to resist the temptation of getting just a little more of sleep — Twilight's soon... coming. Must stay... awake — however, didn't account for her eyes being such weaklings. They resigned quickly, letting Sunset's body fall to the ground, and her mind into the realm of dreams. Lying on the lawn — the grass her matress, the air her blanket — she curled around, as if she were still in Equestria and were galloping over colorful meadows. Luckily, no bypassers were nearby. Otherwise, they'd probably have called an ambulance thinking she was having a stroke or seizure. But in reality, Sunset tried to hug the backpack she'd let fall when closing the windows to her soul. And when windows are closed and only dark remains, secrets reveal themselves. She began whispering the name of the person she dreamed — probably even wished — the backpack to be. The only person being even more oblivious of Sunset's feelings than Backonhair herself: “T-T-Twi…” Twilight had been gone for almost two weeks now. A workshop on crystalline structures had caught her interest during the girls' last school holidays. And, about three weeks after her application, she had received the long-awaited letter of acceptance. Despite being filled with joy to be able to attend the workshop — for some reason had the same been quite popular — she originally did not intend on attending. She wanted to stay with her friends. They had grown so close to her over the little time she knew them, that being without them seemed impossible — even at learning about friendship, she was the best. Sunset had been the only one of the girls sharing Twi's point of view, hardly letting anyone voice another opinion. It had reminded Twilight of a lion defending its female. She could, to this very day, not fathom why Sunset had blushed so heavily and the others had sighed in distress when she had voiced that thought. However, after everyone had calmed down a bit, the girls were able to reassure Twilight that doing things on her own didn't mean she was a bad friend, making her comply to take part in the much-discussed event. The girls were always delighted to see how much the two Twilights resembled one another. Over-the-top conclusions, bearly believable future scenarios, and hyperventilation seemed to be something one could bond over — counting each other's grey hairs sounds delightful! Convincing Sunset Shimmer was a different story, though. The girl had "calmed herself down" with the nearest alcoholic liquid — an old bottle of liquor from last year's Christmas — she had been able to find. The red-greenish, Christmas themed bottle had served her many times before and had probably seen more of the world than most could ever wish for. Bits of schmutz and wine (liquor wasn't her only companion) outlined fingerprints of shame. The white ornaments garnishing the bottle looked like impregnated snow, but upon closer inspection, turned out to be nothing more than barfed up, hardened booze. Yet, that time it had seemed as if even this old friend could not help her. Sunset had held the liquor bottle over her eye when Twilight came in. The same had been fairly worried about her given sight, thinking that Sunset had already drunk enough alcohol to make her think the bottle was a telescope. Their conversation still plagued Sunset. Even in her current dream. "S-Sunset?" started Twilight, hopefully awaiting a reply. Nothing came in response making the girl unsure whether Sunset and hers exchange of sentimentalities couldn't have been rescheduled to a less... drunk occasion — Twilight was very well aware that Sunset wasn't drunk but wanted to avoid the confrontation she so desperately needed to have, yet couldn't. She was about to quietly leave the room, as if nothing had happened, when suddenly, something in her brain... clicked. She physically, couldn't leave the room. Something, whatever if was, screamed at her to talk — and she listened. Instead of backing off, she stepped towards the red-haired astrologist. "I thought you might need someone to... you know... work stuff out." "I-I don't want to talk right now! I'm way too drunk," came from Sunset’s mouth, as she tried to undercut the sobbing or more so quivering sound her voice wasn't used to presenting itself in. "Your voice is way too clear for you to be drunk. A-And, I wanted to talk to you for a while now," she said before taking a deep breath. "So , I'm not leaving!" Twilight balled up her hands and closed her knees, attempting to look determined. “Then you might as well be talking to a wall,” said an exhausted, almost listless sounding Sunset. Twilight raised one of her eyebrows, looking questioningly at Sunset. "Walls do not talk in Equestria, Twilight." Twilight felt her heart skip, completely ignoring Sunset's cheeky remark, as it was very unusual for her friends to call her anything but Sci-Twi (or Twi for short). She hated that name. It made her feel— "And… ehm. Don't you think you want to go to the toilet before investigating me? I don't care, but it looks like you need some..." A muffled cough behind her hand disrupted her sentence, in the hope, she wouldn't have to end it. Yet, Twi, as oblivious as she always was, didn't seem to catch on and only responded with an unknowing look. “...relief.“ Twilight glanced down, seeing that her "pose of determination" looked as if she was close to dripping all over the floor. But that wasn't her only concern. Sunset’s 'I don't care but…' worried her a little as she was not sure if it was meant to be a joke, or a serious remark indicating that esports wasn't the only sport Sunset enjoyed. "N-No! That was just a... my... nevermind," responded the girl, desperately trying to hide the red curtain of embarrassment spread across her face. "A-And stop trying to distract me!" No response. It seemed as if she had to drag the conversation herself, although when she continued once more, she sounded more sad than serious or worried. "You see..." Silence — like a gardener's shovel on a hot summer day — cut into the sentence as if it was dirt. You can do this. J-Just tell her how you feel. She's your friend and there'll surely be a logical reason. She gulped down her worries as best as she could: "It's just that lately, you've seemed very distant towards me and I have no i-idea why. D-Did I do something wrong? If so, please tell me Sunset. Please..." Twilight's fear was palpable through the thick stone walls and would've probably alerted the others if it hadn't been for them leaving the two alone to sort stuff out. "A-are you still m-mad because I hugged you too hard the other day and made your nose bleed. I still d-don't know why the others found that so funny a-and I'm really sorry if I embarrassed you or something." No, that can't be it! She still talked to me after that. She only started ignoring me after... "I-Is it because you kissed me, Sunset Shimmer?" Why did she say it like that? D-Did she like— "It was just an accident, Sunset. I told you, you didn't have to be embarassed." Tears began welling down Sunset's face. "And, e-even if it wasn't that, can you please stop avoiding me? We can talk about this, but for weeks we haven't been in the same room. You a-always left when I came..." Twilight had in her past — long before she had met her friends — already dealt with ignorance and exclusion. She was used to being cast out by others; but not by her friends. How could Sunset Shimmer, her dearest friend, treat her the same? Was she not good enough to be Twilight, to be herself? Was the other Twilight superior to her in a degree that she could bring nothing but disappointment? Twilight stopped herself from sobbing any further, before once more beginning a sentence — although this time it didn't seem as if she would stop. "D-Do you h-hate me, Sunset Shimmer?" She wasn't expecting an answer, therefore continued, overshadowing Sunset's audible gritting. "Do all of you hate me!? Tell me!" she shouted. "Please... Sunset. Please tell me. Because I can't, and don't want to, answer that question myself." With every word she said, and every breath she took, her throat hurt more and more. But, even if she had to tear her own vocal cords out to get answer, she would do so. "Sci-Twi. Is that all I am? Has my life led to nothing but to become a disappointing replacement for somebody else?" Her voice lost volume as she lay down onto Sunset’s bed and looked at the ceiling. Her eyes were full of tears and did not serve their purpose anymore. Long pieces of wet, thick damask lay upon her eyelids forming a see-through counterpart of her long, voluminous eyelashes. "Twilight. My name is Twilight Sparkle. And hearing it is all I wish for. If my name is directed at me, but at someone other... What implication does that hold. Am I me? Do I deserve to be me?!" She looked into the mirror, desperatly hoping she would see herself and not a princess — she was disappointed. "B-Because otherwise..." Twilight grew silent as she decided not to end that sentence. "Sunset, I don't know if you did it on purpose, or if you did it by mistake, but you called me Twilight just now." Sunset readied herself to get up as she sensed in which direction the conversation would head. Listening to Twilight had become monotonous as it served no function but hold a mirror up to the fire-locked girl. "And as sad as this sounds, it made me h-happy." She smiled feebly, but not for long. The Twilight in the mirror did it so much better; was so much better. "It made me happy to hear one of my friends acknowledge me for who I am. Otherwise, it would've probably been the noose—" Sunset had enough and interrupted her abruptly: "How can you even say such a thing!? We all like you the way you are. We are your friends goddamnit! Do you have any idea how much you mean to us!?" "How can I even say such a thing?!" Twilight responded angrily, being noticeably surprised by Sunset’s words. "Just the other day... "I don't know, Rares. I mean, what are we supposed to do now? She simply ain't fittin' to us. I can barely hear her, and the old Twilight was always so... there. "Oh absolutely, Applejack. But that's just how things are now. I miss her myself, but... Sunset found no response as she could not believe what her ears had just heard. And, she was right to do so... "... it's just a voice. Our old one— Agh, I hate saying it like that. And calling the other by her nickname isn't any better." "You mean, Sci?" "Yes, that one. Or Twi, I believe. But I fear that will have to suffice for now." "Why don't we just call the pony-one, Twi? " "Ah, that's a great idea. Let's talk about that with the others. Anyways... what was I saying again, darling?" "Ehm, something about her voice?" "Ah, yes. So, it's only normal that Sci's voice is a bit more... "tender" than Twi's. Twi has experience in public, as a princess. And Sci... doesn't. Opening up infront of her teachers is something very different from singing in front of a crowd of strangers." "I guess so" "I'm sure it will get better as soon as she opens up a little. It will all work out... "And hearing them say stuff like that made me wonder if me killing myself would ultimately make a difference. I mean, you have the other Twilight, don't you? So who'd really miss me except for my family?" Twilight had calmed down a little making her sound more collected but not any less irrational — lunacy filtered every snippet of sense. "I have already made a list of everything: Who should get what and why, some last wor—" Sunset couldn't hold in any longer, practically shouting: "I would miss you Twilight!" The girl (her face as red as her hair at this point) was furious. "Twilight, I l-lo..." Sunset stopped. "All of us would miss you. You are the smartest, most ambitious, and most beautiful girl I, we've ever met, and we wouldn't trade you for anything in the world!" Twilight looked at Sunset with her big, watery eyes. "How can you lie to me like that, Sunset? How can somebody like me be beautiful? How can you b-be so cruel! I've done nothing but torment you with how inadequate of a human I am! I stole your magic, endangered all of Canterlot High, and almost completely destroyed the world. And all of that because of my selfishness." Sunset became frightened as she understood the root of Twilight's problems, and how she was once more looking at a reflection of herself. Her fragile heart of porcelain exposed to be seen by all. The facade of happiness had fallen. What could only be seen was a cold, dried out, carcass hanging from a few threads. A once blooming rose had found its fate as a faded petal of white and grey — life and love gave way to ashes and anguish. She could hear herself whispering in unison with Twilight, when she once more started talking. "I don't know what to do! How can I make up for what I've done? I have nothing to give this world but sorrow and patheticness. People who once loved me hate me; and that rightfully. Slitting open my veins seems to be what my victims need to forgive me." Though, one sentence was to be heard alone from Twilight’s mouth. "But more importantly, what I need to forgive myself." Sunset's tears painted the floor beneath her in glass, as her own shell had fallen into pieces. She had once had the same conversation with the other Twilight long ago and worked the following years on nothing but to make up for her crimes. She had made others forgive her but had never seen what Twilight had just brought to her eyes. She hadn't forgiven herself. A burst of emotions ran through Sunset's mind as she only then realized that Twilight had indeed spoken to a wall this whole time. A worthless object offering nothing to the situation and only absorbing its contents, had sat in front of her. Sunset fell to her knees as the girls cried a cacophony. "I-I'm sorry," whimpered the both as salty tears ran over their bodies — opening past wounds and drowning hope. The always burning flame having left her, Sunset wanted nothing but darkness; nothing but cold. To sleep in the arms of Lethes to forget, and to be forgotten. Limp like a sack, her head resigned. The impact was hard, the pain not hard enough. And yet, her eyes fell shut. But although the curtain had closed, the play continued. Twilight's screams of loahting were distorted and shifted into ones of pain. Screams that were all too familiar for Sunset — even in her current state — to overhear. Her head shot up as fast as it had fallen. And then, she had seen it... Twilight had broken her glasses and cut her palms. Cuts, deep and precise, began between the gaps of her fingers and were advancing along her radial arteries. Dark blood was smothered across the floor and walls. Gowned in her crimson dress, Twilight had collapsed onto the heater standing next to Sunset's bed. "P-Please..." she wailed as two of her bloodstained fingers reached for the thermostat and gave it a full twist. The cry rendered the room silent. Twilight pressed her hands forcefully against the now-turned-on heater, making her quiver in pain. "Tw-Twilight..." Sunset uttered. Twilight's normally purple hands began to slowly adopt a more reddish tone of color — lavender bleeding of blue. Sunset was stunned by the horrid performance. A house of cards had fallen apart and was to slowly be consumed by flames. The girl tried to get up but felt a stinging pain hindering her. Searching for its source, she bathed her hand in blood and yelped — she herself had been cut. The liquor bottle had shattered. And its shards had eaten their way into Sunset’s inner thigh making her gasp sharply when trying to get up for the second time. I-I cant do it. Twilight had then collapsed on the heater, fully exposing her soft skin to the burning hot metal beneath. Sunset could see the red stains becoming darker and darker. She ached as she pulled herself to her feet instinctively reaching for her friend. "Tw-Twilight..." she silently screamed, limping towards the incapacitated girl. Suddenly, the heater gave off a loud crack before leaning onto its side. Leaving all reservations behind, Sunset sprinted in the direction of the blazing wreck of purple. Her tears tasting salty and full of determination. "Twilight!" The bus loudly stopped at the other side of the road, making Sunset wake up from what she wished to have been a nightmare instead of memories. Author's Note See ya soon, Shim <3 CHAPTER 2: Of oceans and ice.The girl hadn't even noticed the painfully loud sound the bus had caused as it had rustled its way over the road pathing alongside the infamous high school of magical horse girls. It stopped not alining with the reserved parking space, making the halt seem unintended and like the last rest before the vehicle would eventually peg out. It was a semi-modern Leyland bus — or so it looked like at least. Sunset had a fairly hard time differentiating whether the monstrosity of mossy green and cyan she was seeing was a suburban transport vehicle or an equestrian sea serpent (presumably a gay one). Although, tires were to be seen underneath the rusty body, they did not appear to be attached. Thumbling around like grapes pushed onto toothpicks, they were moving much more oval-ish than circular. Safety regulations had probably necked themselves long ago, leaving the seatbelts all on their own — bound to stay and rot. Slowly, Sunset got up, stumbling awkwardly to the other side of the road in an attempt to not look as if she was late. Despite that being the truth, it did not appear to be so. Last day's night decided to mess a little more with poor Sunset — evening had already done its part. Her hair was messy and her clothes were dirty — they had been the same she had worn the day prior. A skimpy, black mini skirt was barely covering her lower half, whilst a partly see-through blouse of yellow and red, capped her upper body. Opened up seams were accompanied by dried out sweat stains caressing her armpits. Further, had the one on one session with her backpack not helped her situation. Her undergarments had been pushed out of place making her outfit come across as even more risqué. She somewhat looked like a hooker, who had been denied a cup of coffee and cigarettes, after having woken up in a stranger's apartment — “You gotta leave, my wife’s here!” Reason for her looking that way was Pinkie's awfully unclear and ambiguous way of explaining her thoughts. “A night out with the girls” turned out to be nothing more but a weird mix of getting stoned with Maud (not to be taken literally) and trying not to inhale multi-colored bits of confetti. It was not an unenjoyable night, but definitely, one taking its toll on Sunset. She had arrived home at around 2 a.m causing her not only to be tired but to carry eyebags making FRAKTAs seems laughable at best. Sunset flinched at the sight of her reflection — a puddle of molten snow had formed midway across the street. She shrieked as she believed to see Steve Buscemi smiling at her. She already knew she looked disheveled but hadn't realized that even a fag-end had more charm (a treat she'd be more than happy to welcome and introduce to her dried-out lips). As Sunset was about to lick her open palm and smother her remaining saliva through her hair — in order to look at least somewhat presentable — she heard cheerful laughter. Laughter she hadn't heard in an awfully long time and thought to have died out long ago. Laughter — gigglish and inept — once to be heard from their band's practice room and all the other places it had carried them. Laughter making worries stray afar and distant. Laughter which belonged to Twilight Sparkle. Princess Twilight Sparkle. She hadn't seen the Princess in ages and was flushed away by feelings of euphoria. It was as if a breeze of mint had streaked her body. Opaque eyes were replaced by shimmering glass, a fallen moon was put up to height. The orange girl was now standing on the street — close to the bus. She could still hear Twilight laughing and was drenched in the wet aroma of ecstasy. It made her clothes feel heavy and led the elated student down a path of pleasant memories before capturing her in a sultry daydream. Sunset slowly sank to the floor and, full of joy, meticulously started crafting answers to unasked questions, and questions in response to unspoken answers. "What have you been up to Sunset?" "The usual. Making sure neither your doppelgänger nor I turn evil again." "G-great. What is your progress regarding your latest Friendship Lessons?" Even when dwelling in her fantasy, Sunset couldn't forget her guilt. She had been slacking lately. “You've already finished 24b: how to take care of intoxicated friends (for beginners). Though, for some reason you decided to skip subsection 23.2c: discussing your love-life.” Why did Sunset start teasing herself all of a sudden? Twilight would probably give her a stern look before saying something along the lines of: "This one is essential for 32.6e and 34a so I expect a fully fleshed out report of the conversation you'll be having.” "B-But Twilight. I—" Sunset noticed she was once more losing herself as she tasted a metallic pinch in her mouth. She had been biting her lips to an extent one could probably consider classifying as self-cannibalism. Whilst doing so, had her molar teeth collectively decided to renovate the girl's oral cavity — the fleshy wallpaper looked "icky" one could say. Sunset rummaged a little in her bag before pulling out a small notebook. Its black cover of leather was used and felt rough to the skin. Time had taken its toll on the album of pushed-aside thoughts, which had been in the girl's possession ever since her downfall. It somewhat functioned as a medium of self-reflection helping Sunset to move on and better herself after the realization of what she'd become. The black leather's pages had given home to many letters and numbers. Incoherent notes and suggestions such as ‘apology yellow girl, painted locker?’, turned —as time passed— into a more calendric format. Notes became sentences and were given structure: ‘9:30; Appointment with RD. Organization of charity marathon’; before fusing into blocks of text and lastly a diary. 'Why does Twilight have to be leaving? I don't want her to.” was the finishing paragraph to a page mostly being filled with a long and exaggerated apology directed at Sandalwood — the girl's last entry. The last entry to be read at least. The next two pages had been violently ripped out of the book; many of the following drenched in tears. The bloated sheets of grey and white had indicated an early end to the diary. Until now. Sunset took a cheap ballpoint —some promotional item for "Rich's Real Estate"— and began scribbling. A note, unreadable and confusing to outsiders stared back at Sunset: 'daydreams help'. She looked a little longer at the abomination of longhand before putting the book back into her bag (simultaneously doing up her attire). The girl took a deep breath before remembering the cause of her excitement and cracking her knuckles — a former habit of Sunset which seemingly returned together with her awful handwriting. Barely able to contain her newfound joy, Sunset grabbed onto the bus and swung herself around the corner. She wanted to surprise the Princess of Friendship and therefore, hid behind a nearby bin. Its cylindrical base —overlayed with a fishnet-like metal grid— was rusty and had fallen prey to the cold's fierce teeth. The white wolf had noticeably marked its territory. A thin layer of snow covering the ground completely, was more like silk than anything else. Only disturbed by occasional growling breezes, it seemed to last eternally. The girl gathered her composure as she knelt down on the snowy floor. The cold stinging erupting from her shin made its way to the most distant of her body's regions. What she felt was not pain but much more so discomfort — a sacrifice to be made in exchange for shelter of her friend's all-seeing eyes. Sunset once more dove into the ocean that was her mind. The cold ice had helped slow down the rapid currents wreaking havoc on the girl's brain. Words faded in and out of existence in the eerie, enchanting depths. Some pleasant, some not. Others funny or sinister. Most were carried away by waves of blue and white — the sea was still unruly. They strayed far away from one another only to be found and remembered on another day. Yet, few remained unfaced. The ones determining Sunset's following course of action. She chose two she judged appropriate for her current position: Giggle Hug And thus, a jolly plan was made. Sunset was ready, happy as ever, to meet the girl that had long ago become her first real friend. She still remembered the days they'd spend simply lying around on comfy blankets. Be it outside where young dandelions tickled their feet and tips of humid grass caressed their noses, or inside surrounded by the smell of warm wood and succulent dates. However, it was not the moment to dwell in nostalgia — a strain of thought long abandoned by the girl in exchange for soothing history and silent mystery. Sunset, for the first time in months, opened the present, stepped into reality, and decided to live. A choice she would soon regret. Sunset peaked over the upper-ledge of the bin and came to a halt. The motion was stopped almost instinctively — but not by her brain. "No..." The girl couldn't believe her eyes, although that didn't matter. What she had seen was replaced by a familiar darkness. Like tar, it drenched the girl's ocean of fantasy. Faint whimpers gave way to silent screams as a starless night fell from the sky. Starless at first. Dead fish soon decorated the dress reeking of death. Black diamonds on black garments. "...i-it can't be." The pitch-black abyss surrounding Sunset grew bigger and bigger. She could feel it filling her lungs and draining any form of strength from her body. Forced to drown motionless in the tenacious sludge the girl could only watch. Watch as two thin lines of white slithered from the depths and glid —like snakes of silk— elegantly in front of Sunset's face. They lingered there a little before turning aslant and rolling out like parchment scrolls. Two words were now illuminating their surroundings and gave Sunset a brief lasting feeling of comfort, perhaps even hope — nothing more but a paper cut-out. Giggle Hug Sunset simply stared at the shivering words — what else was she supposed to do? The girl's consciousness' effort to rescue her from the void that was her psyche almost succeeded. But almost wasn't good enough. The words turned crimson red as they bled out of contrast and aligned with the one-colored canvas. Not only had a battle been lost. It seemed as so had been the war. The war against her own mind. "W̛̕͝͝͞ḩ̡͘͟͟y̨̡͘͡͡ am I like this ?" The girl's sentience resigned and was replaced with sinister silence. Silence to last for everyone caged in its grasp — everyone but herself. "W͆h̟͑y̫̩͂ͫ̓̔̚.ͩ̓̂̎.̦̥̤̥̐̑ͯ̊̐ͫ͛.̀̓̈ w͙͇͍̖̓ͅh̝͖̥̹ÿ̝̭̎̒ͥ̂ͪ.̤̤̥͈̔̄ͯ̾̄.̪̲͕͕̖̠̾͆.͎̟ͩ̎ͩ͂̑ͫ w̱̩ͭh̠̲̽͂ͥͣ̚y̖̣ͥ͐ͤ͛̌̇̍.̣̹̪ͅ.̝̘̠̟̓.̞̌̎̉̂ͪ" Her head had run out of quietness. The bitter replacement Sunset received was the closest she could offer herself: Voices. ̸̵̗͖̥̙̞̹̭̭̫̗͍̠̌̄̓̽͗ͫ͒̇͊̒͂̆ͪ́̀"̸̙̤̭̯̲̮̬̩̬̈́̓ͪ̑̿͒͒ͭ̂̽ͥ͑͜͝͞W̵̷̩̤̳͖̼̮̼̯̖̙̥̺̃̽̊̌͛ͯ͑́̀̕h̵̸̡̺̪̠̜͙̻̯͖̯͖̱̼̱͎͉̒̿͊̓̏̚ÿ̨̢͚̰͓̱̲̞͇ͥͪ̅̎͜ͅ.̨͎̞̪̫̥͇̝̹̻̼̬̘̼̘͔̪̥̥̭ͨ͑ͣ̓ͦͭ͗̏͛ͮ̍̎ͯ̆͑̀̕.̵̊̂̈́ͩͬͬͫ̔̽̀͗̔̋́͏̜͉̱̬͔̬̥̖͔̮̺.̶̹̖͓̗͙͙͚̥̽̎ͯͮ͜͠ͅ w̸̼̮͓̥̩̣̠̫͖̻͆̄͊̓͌ͧ̽̓̒͋́̚ͅh̸̨̬͓̬͙͓̹̥̙͈̲̙͉̳͇̭̓̃ͩ̅ͫͤ̔͗ͮ̓̏ͪ̈́ͨ̀ͭ̚͞ͅỷ̘̝̘̞̺̯͕̲̳͔̘̗̑ͤ͌̋̚̕͡.̵̧͙̙͙̺̝̫̰̭̇ͧͥ̾͌͒̈̔͑̈́͂̉͛̈ͫ̌͠.̢̛͔͚̲̫͉͍̗̹͚͇̣̙͖̦̟̙̄̒̓ͭ̽͗̓ͅ.̵̧̭̜͍̭̲͍̳͈́̐ͣ͟ͅ w̺̮͇̗̮̳͚͈̪̮͔̜͉̗̮̥̜̖̎ͩ̎̋̿ͫ̃̒ͯ̓͆ͭ̋͗͆͗͜͢h̡́͂̉ͥ̓͋̄̈̚̚͠҉̫̞̭̖̣̱̹̱̬͎̼̟̖y͆̍̐̄̔̊̐̑̾ͦ̅͊͞͏͏̪̪̭̪̖̣̘̙̠̥̘̺͖̦͕̣̗.̶̡͛͐̈͒ͥ̑ͦ͊͏̨̛͕̯͙̘̫̯̟͙̰̝͕.̷̡̡̲̬̳̬̫̦̱̣̲̼̭̣̗̎͐͒̉͑̐͋̑ͧ̚͘͝ .̵̛̛̝̗̟͇̣͕͇̥̓̽̋̋̚̚͜͡w͒̇ͯ͒̔̿̉̏͐͒ͫ̿̌ͫ͂̌̀̚̚̚͏̩̮̞̪̮̻͕̯͉̮̞̟̻̬̗h̢̡̛͙͖̟̪̰̥̭̮͍̺̲͔̘̘̗̟͕̮̳͋͛̿ͣ̒ͣ̐͂ͮͯ̔̚͜͝y̛͉͔̘̦͐ͩ̽ͩ̑̾̃ͭ̊ͭͭ͆̓̀̚͟͞͠.͔̼̼͎͎̯͓̺̫͕͕̱̺̀͐̅̈͛̃́̉̋̀̀̚͢.ͮ̎͋͑̉ͥ͗͒̓̇̾̈̋ͯͪͪ́͏̶̨̰͔͚̦͖̩̥̙̫͖̤̻.̴̶̧̡͖͙͈̝̦̠͓̤͕̮̩̯̜̯͗̋̿̌̉ͯͮ̾̀̚̚ͅw̼̝̬͙͈͚̤͉͔̙̲͔͚͍͓̫̫̹̞ͨͯͧ͑ͤ̊ͨ̌̄̑̋̃̐ͥ́̏̀͝hͮ̈́̑͌̎҉̨̢̞̹͙͈͎̹͈͓̜͎̱̫̭̯̼͡͝ỳ͇̬͉̘̳̤͂͌̚̕͢͡͝.̸̷̡͇̺̫̜͕͉̮̯͙̬̬̫̳̬̻̦̳ͯ͌̊ͭͨ͛̚͞.̢̛̝̗͇̞̳͙̳̻̑ͥ͐̿ͥͬ̒ͩ̎ͬ̄̾̑ͭͥ͗ͬ̎.̷̷̧̙̭̘̖̱͓̥̥̓͌͌͊ͦ̅͘͟w̧̘͖̝̺̲̓́͌̏ͬ͗ͥ̒͑̈̀̀͡h̘͈̳̟̜̥ͦ̎̔ͫͦͯ̽͑̀́̚y̵͉͕̳̼͍̣̹̱̩ͬͮ̑́ͦ̕.̾̍̔ͧ̚҉̱̯̳̭͚̳.̂̎ͬ̇͐̎ͭ̏̇͌͆̎͆͂ͧ̚҉̨͓̥̤͇̱̬̫̭͎̹.̶͕̟̗̙̼͎̞̼̤ͮ̒ͭ̃̑̾ͨ̂ͥ̾͐̔̀̽̑̕͡w̷ͫ̒ͣ̓ͫ́ͮ̈́҉͖͖̖̯̫̙͙̭͙̖̜̬̱̤h͆̓͑̿ͭ́͋̅͊͊ͧ͑̆́ͯ̄̀҉̷͉̲̯̙͕̗̱̗̟͔̭̟͙̬̪͠ͅyͫ̔͛͊ͭͬ͋́̋ͫ̃̓̈ͥ҉̸̴̷̻͈̪̝͖̩̝̞̩̤͕͕̕.̷̨̛̹͓̗̞͖̣̤͍̱̄ͫ̈̐̔͑͆̿̇ͨ̆̎̍͒͐͛́͑.̵̲͍͉̟̠ͩ̏̒ͩͣ̿́ͤ̽͗͗̽̈́̎͑̐̎͜͟͝.̶͌͋̄̂ͤͧͫ́̚͜҉҉͚̰͖̟͔̘̻̩͈͓̝̪̰̯͖ͅw̽̈́̐ͥ́ͫͨ̄҉͕̜̳͈̱͔̀h̛͈̜̯̦̯̦̞̬̦̲̹͍̰͍̜̦͙̻̜ͫ̓̉͘͝y̯̹͕̯̱̪̞͌̃̂ͦ̎̋̔͢.̛̃ͥ͆̃͊͘͏̨̙̥̳̠̥͉̥.̶͓̬̘̬͎̭͓̲͙̞̾͑ͮ̋̑͆̌̿̚͢.̤͇͖̹̩̦̩ͦ̏͒ͥ̊̏̽̃͐̕w̶̧̖̺̣̰̮̙̲̱͎̓̉ͭ̑ͭͭ͊ͭ̆͗ͫ͡h̋ͫ̓͂ͨͬ̉ͩͯ̐̅͑ͭ̈́̑͜͏̛̮̞̗̝̱͈̤̺̗̥̳̠͈͝y̶͕̭̮̭̞̖͚̦͚̪͈͓͉͉̳̿̈́̇̈́͐̆ͨ͋̋̽ͨ͡ͅ.̷ͤ͒͐̂ͧͩͨ̓̋̉ͮ̎̉͏̸̡͙̥̱͓̖̞͎̗̯͔̟̳̥̞́ͅ.̴̧͍̲̜̠͍̟̹͚̣̗̎̽͌̊́.̵̗͓͇̻̖̬̠̬̹ͦ̎̈́ͫ͋͛͌ͧ͊͊̃͛̏͛̊ͩ͢ͅẁ̸̢̤̰̝̳̮̭̖͔͚̮̮͆́̂̔̅̾̊ͩ̊ͫ͆̒͊͝ḣ̸͈̮̫͇͈̖̜̦̫̓ͬ͛ͤͮ̈͑̇̍̈̉ͫ͊̔̓̓̂̀̕͜y̷̡̠̯̗̯͚̙͎̫͕̹̾̌̈́̈́͆ͤ̓͘̕͠.̸̸̫̜͓̜̱̻͔̖͍̤͇̬̼̠̠̻̈́ͭ͐̓̅ͨ͋̅̑̑̐̂̉.̧̫̻̖̝̙͙̱̘̱̫͖͔͈̯̜͔̮̤̏ͥ̇͗̓ͥ́͊͞.̸̨̨̲̪̫̣͉̼̤̠̟͈̼̙̘̗̜͉̓͛́̅͌͋ͣ̎̔ͨ̋̈̔͋̒ͦ̄ͥͅw̨̜͔͕̫̮͇̗͚̯͎̻̯̙̱̪͖̌ͣͫ̐̀͟͝ͅh̸̡̛̼̠͚͈͗ͨ̈́ͨ͜͜y̨̙̼͍͙̰̯̝͒̆ͭ͒̓ͣͬ͌̅͌ͮ̚̕͘͘͠.̾͂̔̅̌͗ͣ̉̃ͤ̑ͫ̇̒̍̚͏̸̷͍̠͇͉̝̜̘̯͍̤̯̹͙̜͚̼̥.̵̷̥͎͙̳̼̣͕̙̹̫͋̃ͬ͛̒̔ͤ͌̄̌.ͮ͂̒̔͏̨͔̯͉̮̫̻̬̮w̸̭͔̹̘̬̪̙̪̩̭̭͎̑̓ͫ̌ͯ̕ḩ̴̣̭̥̮̙̞͉ͤ̐́̃ͬͦ͗͋̓ͪ̆͛̒̈́̽ͣ̃̕͟͡ͅy̝̱̯͇̮̻͚̏̓͆̉̒͟͟ͅ.̨̝͖̦̗͔͚̥͔̭̟͍͖͚̃͆ͫ̋̆̒ͥͮ͌ͯͪ͒̎̌.̈́͌̓̉ͧ̓͏̴̺͖̖̲̟̥ͅ.̋ͨͮ̄ͧ̒͐̆̃ͫ̽͏̸̸̸̨̥͈͎̻̪̤̲̤͍̫w̾́͋̾̇̓̎͛͗̚҉̫̺̤͞ͅͅh̩͇̺̣͔͚͇̰̹̣͈̗͖̭̻̼͓͖̅ͯͮ͌̾̐̀͜y̰̲̮̳̫̻͍͈͖͉͓̺̲̭͙͉ͩ͋̿ͨͣ̿́̕ͅ.̆ͯ̉͑̈ͣ̔̍ͦ̎͆ͨ͝͏̠̦͎̫͔͓͇ͅ.̣͖̼͇̲͔̭͇̙͈̩͇͕̻̞̘̰͗̐̽̏ͣ̕ͅ.̡̢̭͔̹̼̰̩̝̣̳̩̦͔͈̹͉̝̮̹ͣ̄͋̃̐ͤ̆́͢ͅ"̄ͣ̔ͩ̃ͣͭ͒͊̐̈̔ͭ̆ͭ̐ͬ̎̕͞҉̻̩̻̞̭̻̩̱͍͟ "Is that all you can say?" interrupted a rather brute voice. It had appeared behind Sunset and was audibly annoyed by the girl's anxiety attack. "If that's all you can say then I'll be glad to give you a reason for doing so." Whoever the voice belonged to, appeared to be suddenly much more relaxed, even delighted. "Hmmmmh..." was given off in a purposely exaggerated manner and supported the next statement following after a quick pause: "How about... a little pain? I know that little Sunny has a lot of experience with that topic, although I'm not sure if you received as much as you caused. Balancing the two will be a handful but I'm sure your purple friend can help us. She seems to be very good at it, don't you think?" Sunset would've murdered whoever it was that was speaking if she hadn't been incapacitated. Instead, she could only growl. Growl at the offense her friend had received as well as her incapability to hinder it. A, as Sunset decided to name ~~whoever~~ whatever was talking, was distinctly amused by the distress he (the voice sounded far more like that of a man) was causing the girl. The raspy horror was about to continue —whenever it talked Sunset could feel a wave of heat making it easy for herself to ready— but immediately stopped itself. A new voice arose from above. "Now, now. Let's not be too hard on the poor thing. Questions are the fool's answers after all." The second voice was that of a woman — frail and much more composed than that of her companion. Chilling coldness was what it brought the girl and her surroundings — her frozen blood tore her veins open from inside. B's source was not determinable. Sunset only managed to pin its source down to somewhere in front of her. It started anew: "Tell me, what sound do you expect a snake to make? An 's' sound that is. And would it make a different noise if you were to listen to it on another day? No, it wouldn't. Why is that so?" "Because—" The other voice tried to answer but was quickly interrupted. "Don't answer. This is a monologue. Where was I? Ah yes. Because a snake has never learned anything different but 's'. So how can we expect our snake right here to do anything but ask and demand?" Sunset desperately tried to understand what was happening. Just a moment ago she had sat behind a dustbin and wanted to surprise her friend. Now she was caged in an ocean of tar surrounded by two voices talking nonsense. Worst of all, she wasn't frightened by the situation. Everything felt strangely familiar making her nothing but angry. And yet, she wasn't angry at the voices (not anymore at least), but herself instead. But wh̴̯̀ỷ̴͕? What had she seen that had caused all of that? Was she going insane? "That would simply be cruel now, wouldn't it? So what would you propose we can do to fix that?" After a long pause and something that sounded like a cough A finally got the memo. "Teach her new words?" Sunset could hear thatA was definitely intimidated by B. "Correct. I already thought of one you will enjoy." Sunset dawned on what the word was going to be — she knew her mind better than anyone else. Now she felt something. She felt angst. Sunset was preparing herself for what the voices would do but soon realized that it had no use. The voices had fallen silent. Without a noise, they had left. Sunset was waiting for something to happen. She waited for what felt like hours without any response. The girl was still clueless about what any of what happened meant. And ŵ̷̩̟͋̀͘h̴̢͙͛͊y̷̨̿ it ha—. All of a sudden, Sunset could feel an immense pressure surrounding her torso. It focused on her lower stomach and became increasingly stronger. Only after a few seconds, she realized that she found herself in someone's grip. The tighter it got, the clearer she could feel a pair of massive paws pulling on her ribcage from beneath. The bones in her arms were coming each other dangerously close. Her spine was cracking as Sunset yelped in pain. A feeling which the girl would've normally enjoyed was way too intense for her. It sounded as if countless nutcrackers were biting down on her bone-column. Sunset was close to passing out when the weight on her bones finally retrieved. But not without taunting Sunset one more time. "Hug. Is that what you had in mind?" Sunset couldn't decipher which voice was talking or if it was one of the two in the first place. Her eyes slowly fell shut causing not darkness but shine? There she was. Back on the pavement behind a trash can, eyes full opened in shock. Once more, she saw herself exposed to the almost caricatural depiction of the imagery she had wanted to see. The imagery that had brought anger and dread with it. Twilight Sparkle was standing a few feet away from the girl. Still laughing in delight as she was talking with someone on her cellphone. There was no princess to be seen. Only a teenage girl in glee. She had been so sure to be seeing the Princess in front of her. But w̶͓͋h̸̫̃— for what reason? The realization as to why that was the cause had been lost in the chasm Sunset had fallen into. Yet, the girl managed to retrieve it shortly after and wished herself to be back in the twisted realm of two malicious voices. She had never heard Twilight Sparkle laugh. In all the years she knew the alternate version of her closest friend, she had never heard her laugh. Waves of memories once more made the sea turn into a frenzy of water and salt. Images, unclear and mangled, passed her eyes as if being a film spool. Faces were blurred and colors pale. The constellations of people she saw were all different to the core. Yet, one detail was the same in all of them. Whilst different people were cackling there was one never doing so. A young girl. It always carried a weak smile on its lips, yet it looked like the biggest burden. Sunset expected to cry at what she saw but didn't. She was once more feeling... angry? ‘Why?’, the girl wanted to know but hated herself for doing so. From the beginning on, she had known what was happening. She always did — something the voices had been fully aware of. Sunset wasn't angry for not noticing her friend's depression much earlier. She was angry because she wasn't the one making the girl happy. She despised her selfishness. How... how… could she be that way? Sunset's nails cut deep into her palms. She slammed her pulsating hands onto the floor. Thereby, accidentally hitting the trashcan and almost making it tumble. The observant girl of purple quickly picked up on the motion and was pushed by her curiosity. "I have to go now. I'll talk to you later." Sunset, of course, wasn't deaf either and perked up realizing she was standing hoof-deep in shit. The girl pulled out her notebook — it seemed to be of common use again — and hastily wrote down three notes: '***l***t', '*e**har* **nde****s' and 'daymares. help' Twilight was further advancing towards the frozen cylinder… ...and Sunset was awaiting her. Author's Note See ya soon Shim <3 CHAPTER 3: Cinnamon?"I have to go now. I'll talk to you later." She hung up. It was a rather abrupt closing sentence to a conversation, encapsulating the joy she had experienced over the last two weeks. Twilight wanted to chatter a little longer with whom she was speaking — the girl she had met at the workshop she had just returned from — but sadly couldn't. Her curiosity wouldn't let her. Something had rattled on a nearby dustbin, leaving her no choice but to investigate the noise's source — the girl was bored anyways. Her friend, Sunset, should've supposedly picked her up by now but was nowhere to be seen, leaving Twilight nothing but disappointing confusion. Although Twilight didn't want to admit it, she liked not grasping things (just a little) as it always meant for her to be able to learn something new. But from instances like this one, there was nothing to be gathered. Twilight had already intensely studied the human (obviously also the equine) psyche but, as usual, could only wonder what was going on inside Sunset's brain. It was intriguing yet frustrating — a feeling Sunset let Twilight often feel. Alongside waves of heat that is. Twilight had now many times noticed that Sunset's body temperature drastically increased when being around her. Although, that wasn't the only thing that had let Twilight's interest in the girl's behavior reach new heights. An unusual increase in Sunset's pupils' radius commonly accompanied by behavioral abnormalities, such as heavy breaths and tendencies towards Pica were quite intriguing. Had her transformation, no matter how long ago it first happened, had any influence on her biological features? Especially the potential hormone-based differences could be of importance. She had to make a list!: investigation of Sunset's physical(/psychological~reconsideration of cancelled experiment 7c; response to consumption of repugnant substances) changes; focus on hormonal differentiations to humans: estrous cycle; menstrual cycle... After many rearrangements, satisfied with her wording and formatting, Twilight advanced towards the trashcan still in puzzlement as to why Sunset hadn't arrived yet — had she forgotten? Had her alcohol abuse and reckless behavior finally caught up leaving her behind as a brain dead vegetable? Or had she "simply" started life as an ascetic wandering the woods of Kerala in search of god? All seemed equally possible to the purple teen (she tended to overstate in situations of uncertainty). The girl looked around, timidly stumbling forward. She moved as if walking across car-clustered streets only waiting for an avalanche of lacquered, polished aluminum to crush down on her. Why? Probably because her past experiences with vehicles had taught her that even a bus standing still could drive fear into the deepest depths of hell — how was that thing still in use? research of safety certifications and other laws regarding (public) transportation Twilight was now about 8.371 feet (a more accurate estimation could not be provided due to optical impairment of the measurement's conductor (=she was blinded by the sun)) away from the trash can. It was one of many standing periodically alongside the streets of watery snow extending past the girl's horizon — limitless it seemed. The 'Park Vue Bins', uniformly dark-blue, differed in nothing but the amount of spray paint that had found its way onto their surfaces. Twilight analyzed the graffiti closely only growing further puzzled. The girl murmured to herself: "Fgt? What does that stand for? F-f-f... hm." Twilight gaped into the distance drawing the startings of potential answers to her self-question into the air. She somewhat looked like Vicky when her tender hands ceased moving and slowly placed themselves on her nose bridge — resting there awhile. Twilight began looking silly as she buried her face increasingly deep in her open palms — a porcelain face packed in thin, purple tissue. It was hard to tell whether the girl was sleeping or eating pocket-ravioli, yet, it somehow worked..: "Franco-German Treaty! That's it." The ecstasy could be smelled miles away. Twilight Sparkle had once more proven herself to be one of the awesome™ kids (probably spelled with a 'z' although that would simply be ridiculous) as Rainbow Dash always said. Speaking of Rainbow... One of the cylinders had: "Does RD speak good French?" painted (was painted the right term?) over it. remedial education on "street painter slang"; in-depth studies later on As if that wasn't enough, there was something added in another hand-writing just beneath the perplexing statement: "She a dike u dumbass, bitch ass hoes. With that shy bitch." Was that even English? The only thing Twilight could make out from that were several rather… inappropriate words. The rest was undefinable to her: "H.O.E.S? Is that a term ending on 's', an acronym or misuse of the plural form? But what's a hoe... or perhaps ho, then?" Her inability to understand any of what had been written led her to the conclusion that it'd be best to ask an expert on the subject of verbal intercourse among minors|adolescents, who was coincidentally also the matter of the conversation. But that would be for another time. The girl had let herself be distracted for much too long. She even forgot to write down what she wanted to discuss with Rainbow when she regained focus — luckily, she had taken photos of the playfully colored bin. Yet, it would've probably not mattered all that much. Twilight was determined potential knowledge could wait for once. As long as it meant that the turbines roaring in her brain, powered by the mysterious noise, would fall silent and let her concentrate on more important things. Although, that too, had to be explored later on. Eight feet (three extra digits seemed overly specific and not appropriate for such a non-scientific occasion) were no long interval, yet... nothing. They were no long interval. The girl didn't like embellishing facts. And socially accepted norms indicated that eight feet were, in fact, not considered a 'long interval' although the term 'distance' was probably used more commonly. Rainbow would've probably agreed with her as she wasn't really fond of that style of writing in some of the earlier works of A.K. Yearling — it was just, so not awesome™. And that was totally not her. She would've probably not understood Twilight's reasoning and called her an 'Egghead'. But that was just Rainbow. On the other hand, there was at least one person she knew would disagree with her on that matter. Twilight, with now much quicker pace (however, still quite slow), walked plainly and without hesitation towards the can. Other people might've been afraid and unnerved if they'd heard something rattle in a place where that shouldn't happen, but not Twilight — at least during daytime. The sun gave Twilight confidence. She had always felt as if it was... guiding her? She couldn't explain why but it had always been there, the feeling of safety and comfort when the brisk light shone onto her. It had always made her happy seeing how thin rays of light managed to dance their way through thick clouds. It seemed so... celestial — the use of that word felt amiss, yet conversely, it felt just... right. However, there was something she loved more than the sun. Something very contradicting to the feelings of admiration she had shown. It was... ...Sunset. She loved Sunset so very much because... N-not her friend of course. That would just be silly. B-because... And weird. A-and t-totally inappropriate. It's not like she didn't like her. Just not in that way. R-right? (The) Sunset ~by an amateur poet [written during a boring German lesson] Ich liebe ihn; And I am oh so keen To tell him How much he means to me Doch wie kann ich bloß 'st wahrlich ein schrecklich Los A fate as grim as it might get I'm hanging on strings; will it be my neck? If only I had wings I'd fly to her Fänd ich wohl kein Gehör The Sunset I may never reach And yet I beseech; To be near you And to hear you And to smell, to taste And let nothing go to waste Oh, Sonnenuntergang, Es grenzt an Zwang To love you For only, you may tell When it is time to farewell Yet you never do. Oh, Sonnenuntergang, You never do. That's why I love you. ~ "What do you think girls?" "I sure hope it'd be your neck." "That's unrelated to the story and solely because you're a bitch that's pent up over the fact your bedpost is your best friend." "It is related to the story but I guess you're not smart enough to figure that out, dog. None of them are good. So I guess it's even more than simply shit." *sigh* "This is all your fault. She's always been so full of herself and your approval isn't helping." "I like them. And it's not like she's hurting anyone. And she's so totsies cute when she's so contemplative." "You don't even know what that means." "I do!" *giggle* *hug* "Hmph. Stop that." "Is everything ok?" Sunset wondered. She had prepared herself for Twilight's arrival several minutes ago. And yet, there was nothing to be seen, or heard for that matter. The worry of finding herself in an embarrassing moment with her friend was squashed under that of the same friend being in danger. It sunk deep down into Sunset's memories to be rediscovered on another, more fitting, day. The deafening silence was way too reminiscent of a certain night that had unfolded itself not too long ago. Angst sprang aloft clawing itself onto Sunset's ribcage. The girl could feel her heart sink as anxiety and dread entered through her pulmonary veins, swam skywards and crawled up her throat — consuming her brain, and with that, her calm and rationality. There was no tapping of heels, no more cackling, hell, not even breathing. And Sunset didn't have the perseverance to idly sit and wait for something to happen. She had to act. She couldn't be late a second time. Sunset rapidly jumped up from her squatting position, starting not only her motion but the performance of an orchestra — an orchestra of bones. Not a good one, though. The music was clamorous at best. Especially her spine made noise as if being used as an accordion — usage as a flute would've been more fitting (obviously). The following turn was slow, the instinct realization wasn't. A warm breath, a sudden gasp, and a streak of hair. Umpf "Wh-what?" stammered Sunset. The girl's head was practically vibrating from the collision it had just witnessed — her ears were no better: Sound was choked until suffocation, before even being able to be processed. "Ughn-n," came in response accompanied by a breath of... cinnamon? Sunset slowly opened her eyes only to be greeted by a flickering, shaky image of... pink, or perhaps purple? Things slowly dawned on her — but cinnamon? The girl carefully extended her left foot in search of the shoe which ought to have supposedly sat atop of the same. She felt a piece of firm cloth caressing first her hallux, and then its friends — It had to be near! "H-Hello?" was asked feebly from opposite the girl — the voice felt distant and hollow. "I-I'm terribly sorry for running into you b-but I heard something a-and..." The rest was inaudible — too faint and carried away by the ever so slight breeze hushing past. Dawn gave way too dusk. Her assumption of whom she had run into had been terribly false. Twilight was occasionally quite shy, but never to that extent. There was only one girl she knew who became anxious even when talking to herself. "Fluttershy? What are you doing here? Weren't you supposed to be staying at Rainbow's or something?" "Fl-Fluttershy? I'm—" The questioning intent and audible confusion rushed directly past Sunset (as well as the content of the answer), as she jumped in to interrupt the baffled girl. "Ah, was she so pushy again? I really need to talk to her about that." Sunset realized her indecency, or at least what she thought to be indecent — the pure innocence lying partly beneath her had no idea what was going on. "Oh, perhaps a bit too direct. Ehehe, sorry. I'll be a bit more... discrete. But remember: You can always talk to me when you got something on your mind." "A-actually, I'm not—" "Just not now," interfered Sunset once more. "I kinda... bucked up and now I need your help. You don't happen to have seen Twilight anywhere near, have you? Because it might be that I've... lost her." Hhm? "Lost me?" Twilight wondered. Was she spying on me? The girl would've very much liked to hear what Sunset was on about but couldn't bring herself to play along. After all, honesty was one of the virtues one should follow when aiming to establish... and maintain a healthy relationship|friendship. Twilight once more tried to stop Sunset from rambling about things she didn't want to hear and desperately tried to ignore. "S-Sunset?" Still something about falling asleep and mistaking her or something like that. "Sunset." This time more urgent. Nothing. "Snap out of Sunset!" the girl shouted, louder than intended making her frantically shut her mouth. Sunset finally looked up, meeting Twilight's gaze before freezing mid-sentence. Oh. "Oh, Celestia," the girl thought, "how could I mistake her for Fluttershy? I knew it was her, I knew it. If only it hadn't been for that damn cinnamon. Twilight hates cinnamon, so why'd she— Argh, stupid spice!" The girl would've strangled herself right there if the embarrassment from earlier hadn't risen and crushed into her skull, carried by tons of water. Sunset sadly got no fracture —it would have certainly helped avoid the situation— but instead was only given blushes making even the reddest roses seem pale. "H-hey Twilight," Sunset sounded like a nervous 5th-grader wanting to ask out her crush, but quickly pushed that pussy in a ditch and shielded herself with false-confidence, "so, ehm, how ya doin'?" Twilight gave Sunset a stern look but couldn't help herself but lift her lips a little — a minor detail Sunset failed to catch. The shield broke immediately. "About that whole, you know... spying thing. I-I just wanted to make sure that you're safe and stuff. Not that you can't take care of yourself. I meant that—" Twilight leaned forward embracing Sunset. A shiver of warm, vivid joy shot throughout Sunset's insides letting massive chunks of anxiety and uneasiness melt into sticky, viscous euphoria. "I missed you too Sunset," the girl whispered. Had she just winked at her? No, she hadn’t. The only winking happening was buried deep beneath Sunset's shorts. The two girls sat, legs spread apart but torsos tightly rubbing against each other, on the ground — deeply entwined and damp from the stifling odor of cinnamon. The physical affection Sunset experienced in that moment was nothing short of heavenly. Her delicate hands felt every inch of Twilight's back: The tiny spinous processes, her scapula, and sadly, every wound. They were engraved into the girls back paining her... and Sunset — a map of cuts and scars lay itself over the beautiful image of Twilight's body, tainting it in blood. Blood threatening to suffocate Sunset if she didn't wake from the trance of bliss and glee she had cocooned herself in. Sunset realized that she still hadn't found her shoe and extended her foot. Twilight apparently noticed Sunset's increase in leg activity: "Should we get up?" "Yeah, I guess we'll get too wet otherwise." Thankfully, Twilight didn't understand sexual euphemisms (even if unintended). "But let me get my shoe real quick. It should be somewhere..." the girl abandoned her sentence and stretched her lower body. There it was! Sunset's sole found a piece of tender viscose, or at least that was what she believed the material to be. It seemed to deviate from what her feet were normally used to being garmented in, but it was close enough — probably just the snow that made it feel different. Sunset got to the edge of the fabric and felt something else. But she couldn't quite put her toe on it. At least, until Twilight involuntarily assisted her in identifying the material: "S-Sunset. I really don't think that your shoe is somewhere around there. And I would be really glad if you could st-stop," she sounded breathy. Skin, Oh no. Sunset looked up from her lap and died of embarrassment — or at least wished to do so. If only she'd be able to form a noose with her hair and hang herself. The epiphany had hit her too late — way too late. Yet, still not to the degree she deserved — it should've blown her brains out. Sunset was staring at Twilight's fully exposed underwear. And her foot was almost beneath it. Despite the situation, Sunset couldn't resist but scrutinize the lingerie: A white pair of Hipsters with the cutie mark of her counterpart embedded in the front. Simple but effective; a clothing-habit Twilight had developed over the years to save time for her studies. That's why the absence of a school uniform at Canterlot High was still something she had to adjust to. Sunset pulled her heel away and was about to apologize when Twilight herself jumped in and helped her. Kinda...? "Look Sunset." The girl sounded exhausted. "I don't want to know what happened yesterday night..." A long pause put unintended empathize on the second part of the sentence making it seem somewhat snooty, "or this morning by the way it looks." "Ouch," thought the former horse surprised by her friend's harshness. She was desperately waiting for her friend to say: "Er, no offense." to find herself on top of the situation but was brutally disappointed when Twilight simply continued talking. "I want to talk about this as little as you, trust me. I could pretend that everything is alright. Just like you have been." Twilight was staring deeply into Sunset's eyes. It was apparent to Sunset that she wasn't facing an angry Twilight. Instead, there was something in the girl's eyes which, normally, was exclusively reserved for her in their relationship. Concern. "And I've partly done that. Making me just as, if not more, responsible." "What was she one about?" echoed through Sunset's brain. If only she could read minds and page the girl's thoughts. "Sunset..." A long sigh one would usually find at the start of a YouTuber's apologie broke the sentence weighing heavily on Twilight and wanting to escape. Letting it do so in smaller parts was the easiest for her but made it oh so much harder for Sunset to process the halting flow of information. "We really need to talk about your drinking problem." Sunset's face was blank of emotion. A pale orange mask was hiding entrance to a circus. The girl would've broken out into laughter if it hadn't been for the dire situation and the obvious concern of her friend. She decided to play along — for Twilight's sake. "My what now?" retorted Sunset decked with a hint of artificial outrage. "Have you heard the term 'alcohol flush reaction' before, Sunset?" The window of time Twilight gave Sunset was too short to be noticeable, let alone, for an answer to climb through. It appeared to simply be a normal pause in the girl's flow of speech. "It basically describes the inability of a person to correctly digest alcohol, or rather, acetaldehyde. The reaction is usually caused due to a faulty enzyme; the aldehyde dehydrogenase 2 gene. That, on its own, is nothing one has to worry about. However..." Sunset stopped listening and plunged into sea. She knew Twilight would soon —after she had finished her monologue— get to the point and give her an absurd (yet somehow plausible) explanation for her misbelief. So why not dive into your memories and try to find out yourself? The water was comfortably vibrating on beat with Twilight's damped voice. Sunset swam further downwards. When hitting seafloor the girl stirred up some silt, hoping to discover something that could help her. Sunset was about to revisit some of the moments she had spent time alone with Twilight (her favorite memories), but was harshly yanked out of the water and flew headfirst onto the shore. It was rocky and Sunset couldn't be bothered with also coming up with what kind of stone it consisted of. It was white. There she was. Stranded on an island she herself had created. Helpless and fully exposed to Twilights' unfiltered voice. The roaringly loud noise made the water retract and, with that, brought ebb. All thoughts were gone leaving her no choice but to focus on the moment. She prematurely got back from her vacation just in time to witness Twilight's conclusion. "...one of many symptoms are erythema. Most commonly in the neck, upper body and... face. Especially the cheeks of a person with ALDH2" — using the abbreviation sounded weird — "deficiency will become red, or rather flushed." Sunset was still oblivious as to where Twilight was heading. "She can't be that stupid?!" "And you, Sunset, have not had a non-flushed (the usage of a double negative seemed uncharacteristic for Twilight) face in the last four months or so. Perhaps even longer. There are of course other possibilities as to why that is the case but tachycardia, your increased heart rate, supports my thesis." Had she been blushing around Twilight? "Don't get us started on that shit again." "Giver her a minute. She'll figure it out." "Other causes may be diseases you are unlikely to, and hopefully don't have. Face blushing also seems strange hence I see no reason for you to be nervous or something of that sort, which would explain a release of adrenalin." Or had she really been drinking too much? "No, you haven't ." N-No, she hadn't. She... she... she... "And by the way you are looking at me," interjected Twilight stopping the forced epiphany, "I can tell that you are clearly in no position to talk right now." Twilight stepped forward, pulled out a silken handkerchief and carefully wiped away some of the slobber around Sunset's mouth. Apparently, her ocean of thoughts had been leaking. The way back to Sunset’s apartment was toilsome... and adorable. "Let's get you home and into your bed. What do you think about that? You look like you could need some sleep." She sounded like a social worker talking to a troubled child that had just thrown a fit — calm and assuring. "And later we'll talk about everything. No pressure. Just you and me." Sunset only nodded. She was far too gone for her to respond. Twilight smiled brightly: "Great. Then let's get going." She helped the girl stand up, made sure no belongings were left behind and tightly held Sunset's hand. She made sure it wouldn't stay lonely. Not for a single second. With quick pace —but not too pushy— Twilight led the girl towards her apartment. Sunset, as if being on autopilot, silently walked next to her. It made the purple girl periodically look back to make sure her friend didn't get lost on the way home. After having clumsily entered the apartment, Twilight carefully, and without any intent besides aiding, helped Sunset undress (not that there was much clothing on her in the first place). Baconhair was laid sidewards onto her bed and soon fell asleep. Twilight very much needed to do so too, but didn't care. She got a chair, placed it next to the sleeping girl, and sat down. One hand guarding that of her friend, the other holding a book under the dimmed light barely reaching from a lamp across the room. "Everything is going to be fine, Sunset... ...I promise." Author's Note See ya soon, Shim <3 CHAPTER 4: Good morning.The kitchen was in full motion: Pans were scratched over hotplates; spoons twirled around. Forks and plates were dumped in the sink to be replaced with ones less dirty — someone would do the dishes sooner or later. Yet, it hadn't been the turmoil waking her up — she had gotten used to the inconsiderateness of her roommates. It had been the gentle sizzle arising from the flames of the battlefield, that their kitchen had become. Winding its way through the thick, clammy forest of unwashed, sweaty hair, it had managed slinking to her ears. With it, bringing a miasmic smell of tart bacon to her nostrils. “Ugh-h.” Her lashes flung open as the acidity of rhubarb and foul meat flood her nasal cavity and began etching its way through her palates. Trying not to share last night’s dinner with her blanket, she shot up — the rapid movement and following vertigo not helping the situation. She would’ve torn her tongue apart with the amount of slurs she wanted to shove down the universe’s throat, if it hadn’t been for her own being filled with semi-solid broccoli and tuna. Running to the door, the girl realized she’d have to walk directly towards the stench’s source for her to get to the bathroom — the rapid turn she took left her soles burning. However, in motion she had been able to spot the small bucket cowering at the end of her bed. Normally standing in their kitchen, she was surprised to find the object — yet not any less delighted. Getting on her knees and leaning over, she saw a small note —written on a pink post-it— had been attached: Hey, there sleeeeepy! You were, like, totes dusty yesterday and I thought it’d be nice if you didn’t ruin Aria’s panties again. Soooooo, I left you this gift. I’ll be back in, like, later. Please be nice to Aria, she’s real grumpy this morning. But I’m sure you’ll get along… this time. Anyways, Love you two <3 P.S. It’s the trash can; the gift. Bet you didn’t see that coming! “You’re such a dork Sonata,” she said not being able to stop her lips from slightly rising. “Sometimes I wonder why you’re still with u—” “Agh, fuck! Fuck shit fuck. How does this stupid thing work?” The voice whose owner she would’ve at any other time, wanted to give a crippling punch to the kidneys made her faint smile jump to a maniacal grin — only further growing when she heard their electric whisk crying for help. “I-Is she… trying to cook?!” Adagio burst out into hysterical laughter, as images of Aria using perfume as aroma additives flashed past her eyes. “What is it this time? Cougar piss and pomegranate? What else could smell so utterly disgusting aside from her snatch.” Her mouth remained open as her brain reminded her of Aria's so-called ‘Hawaiian Pizza’. The thought of having to ever smell, or rather see, pineapple on pizza again made her want to vomit (once more). And just like that, her confidence had evaporated — as fast as it had built itself up. “Oh please god. Let it be cougar piss,” Adagio whispered —her voice having left her— as she stepped through the door into the corridor leading to the kitchen. Even with her fingers guarding its entrance, her nose was pierced by the ineluctable odor pressing itself through every inch and crack. Not being able to resist it, she tried to avoid it — scything wrath into the cloud bleeding of decay. Flapping her unoccupied arm in front of her, Adagio waddled to the kitchen like a disabled duck. Just as she arrived, Aria sat down at the small plastic table standing in the corner of their humble, tiled 55ft² nest — food was most of the time regurgitated instead of actually being eaten. “Oh for fuck's sake, Aria. What the hell were you doing in here?” “Cooking. But you already knew that. So what’s the deal?” She didn’t even bother to look up from her plate. “Don’t act like you know stuff. Not a good look on you.” Adagio began walking to the fridge — her warm feet clashing with the cold floor. “Wanted to make sure you were actually cooking.” The hollow emphasize put on the last part of the statement made Aria’s ears perk up ever so slightly. “I mean, it smells fetid in here.” “You don’t say,” Aria retorted — the sarcasm drenching her voice dripping to the floor in synchronization with outside’s morning dew, “I thought it smelled lovely.” “Sometimes I wonder if brushing your teeth can be considered anal.” Without having to open the fridge, Adagio was greeted, with not disgust, but cold disappointment. Pity, no one had the right to give the Siren: “Oh how the mighty have fallen.” Adagio could feel it slip again, her last bit of pride. She wanted to break it into shards and slit Aria’s throat with it. But she couldn’t give her the satisfaction of seeing her break; she wouldn’t. “What was that?” “Nothing. I just thought I was speaking to a Siren for a moment. Guess I must have overlooked Sunset Shimmer’s name tag around your neck.” Adagio opened the door, grabbed a carton of milk, and turned. “Nothing edible smells that way so you better—” “Your gash does.” Only for you, Sonata. “Bon appetit.” She turned and walked off — leaving only… ...silence. Nothing but silence. No talking, no buzzing of lamps, no baaing of lambs, no turning of pages. Nothing. And yet, she awoke. Crispy bacon was sweating in its own fat and let everyone have a taste of its perfume. Happily dancing ‘round the room; up the stairs to her bed, the scent made its presence known. “Ugh-h.” Her lashes slowly lifted as the pleasant smell tickled her nostrils. It was a sensation unknown to her nose; strange. Intrigued as it was, her body pushed itself up without command — the gentle motion giving her sight a faint blurriness. She looked to her site and saw it. Something she had hoped and feared to see. Nothing. “Yesss. Oh, thank Celestia, yes.” A dream. I knew it! I knew it had to be a dream. The girl wanted to shove her tongue down the universe's throat and show the Prench how it’s done. And she would’ve done so if it hadn’t been for her own being filled with relieved laughter. “Oh Pinkie, you won’t believe what I just dreamed,” she shouted before jumping down the stairs. She felt weightless. Her heart had stopped bleeding tears and her arms had freed themselves from the anchors chaining her. “By the way, thanks for driving me home last night!” “Silly, you were super-duper sleepy. Should I have just thrown you out of the car like the worthless whore you are?” Pinkie’s voice came from the kitchen. “N-No, you shouldn’t have.” Sunset cackled. “Anyway, what smells so good?” Running past her TV Sunset saw her make-up from last day’s evening had been washed away by salty rivers. “Quite the surreal dream, don’t you think?” “Yeah, guess so.” Reaching for the door knob Sunset flinched. Something’s wrong. “Pinkie?” Her voice was shaky. An unnaturally long pause cut in. “P-Pinkie? Are you still th-there?” “Of course I am. Unless I’m not. But I wouldn’t know either then. Anyhow, come in. Everything’s gettin’ cold. And you know what my grandma used to say about cold food.” Sunset didn’t know. Did that matter? No. Behind the door, there’d undoubtedly be Pinkie and everything would be fine. She twisted the knob… … and entered. Adagio’s and Sonata’s room was just like one would imagine the living place of two powerful, mythical beings: Two “beds”, each consisting of one half of a former bulk waste mattress, were carried by towers of cardboard boxes — Adagio quickly gulped down the last sip of milk before carefully arranging it inside of Sonata’s pile. A pink —as chosen by Sonata— piece of carpet filled the ten-inch gap between the two resting places. Atop the same stooda small chest of silken smooth ivory. The rest of the room was filled with clothes forming their own cupboards, and the fetor of defeat emanating from torn apart-music sheets. Adagio paved her way through the glorified shithole she called ‘home’ until she reached the chest. There, she came to a halt. “Here we go, old friend,” she said. Carefully, she traced her fingers along the gold embedment of three crystal-pendulums surrounded by depictions of flowers and cornucopia. It adorned the front and was replicated on each side of the chest. The lid of the chest was carved with cursive letters of similar gold. Adagio loudly read out the inscription. “F-For you may ever bloom, mayst ever sing. Hope you shallst bring, to lands of far, lands missing neume. Thee sister gold, us brought ‘wayst from cold. Livest long… Adagio… Aria… Sonata… Tears began running down her face. C-Cantata… Painting it in pain. Cavatina… Leaving nothing but quietus. Fantasia… Adagio rammed her nails down into her temples as she broke out into relentless screaming. Farsa… Viola… Blood streamed down her fingers and painted the chest in rose quartz. e Campana.” Her eyes fell shut and her mouth agape… … as she saw that Pinkie wasn’t in the room. “Calm down Sunset,” she said to herself as she tried not to gag on the anxiety blocking her lungs. “Y-You’re still dreaming then. B-But that’s no bad, r-right? You’ll wake up any minute now.” “I swear to Celestia Sunset—” “Shut up.” “Sunset, dearie. We just want to—” “SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP!” It had returned. The bittersweet silence. “You’re not real. A-And I’m not crazy. This is all just a dream and I’m just gonna pinch myself and w-wake up!” And so she did. But nothing happened, making her continue. She pressed her nails harder and harder together, until she felt a liquid seep through the gaps of her fingers and slither down her arm. “Argh.” Sunset opened her eyes and ran to the table. Without looking, she grabbed what looked the most like paper and compressed the wound. “No dre— Buck that hurts. No dream then.” The silence was locked as the rattling of keys brought noise to Sunset’s world. Her eyes rushed around the room — her brain trailing behind, as she tried to understand what was happening. Before she could react, the door to her apartment was pushed open and someone stepped in. “Oh, you’re awake already? Good, moooorning!” Author's Note Fewer horsewords in more time? Swindle! As always, (constructive) criticism and comments are appreciated! Edited by the lovely serenityx. See ya soon, Shim<3
CHAPTER 1: Somewhat o'clock in the morning.It was a cold morning — of course, not comparable to what Equestria had offered her in the past, but still mildly inconveniencing. Dawn had just beckoned its end, allowing few rays of dim sunlight to shimmer through the thick treetops, cloaking the street in tightly packed shadows. The girl was bored to death — the absence of sound, except for that of distant motor engines failing to start, not helping. Normally the others would've been with her, making the minutes of waiting turn into seconds, and the seconds melt away. However, that was not the case — she was alone, standing there on the cold pavement, trying not to scream to entertain herself. And so, like she did way too often these days, she began untangling the wad that was her mind. In the process of creating shopping lists and handling other tiresome thoughts however, she failed to notice that with every string of thought she managed to get ahold of, more and more words escaped her mouth — making her slowly begin a conversation with herself. “Ah, w͠hy did I convince myself to show up half an hour early?” she said, moaning over her stupidity. “And wh͟y did I tell the others I'd be fine waiting alone?” Groaning, she leaned against the lamppost next to her, her eyes aimlessly trailing off into the distance. "P-perhaps..." Sunset had pulled on the wrong strings, making her stumble upon a long-forgotten, no, a long-suppressed feeling. A feeling, which, considering what it had brought her in the past, had become nothing but a synonym for sadness. "Nah, that's horse crap," she declared, chuckling away her tears and what she knew to be true — deep deep down, trapped in a pit she'd one day fall in without return. "Must've been me being overzealous I suppose. Jeez, how much did I drink that night to spout such trash? I always sound like some self-righteous cunt when I'm drunk." A long pause disrupted her half-awake ramblings, giving herself enough time to come to a rather grim conclusion... The eyes of the hamster running in its wheel inside her head went wide open; hers following. “Oh buck! I always sound like Rainbow Dash! Heh, at least only when I'm horsed. Still, might as well consider getting drunk on bleach then, I guess.“ A cackle escaped her mouth, indicating that jokes and alcohol — her favorite scapegoat — had once more helped her escape the dark truth reaching not for her mind, but heart. Sunset continued a little more with her chatter but soon felt the words become heavier and heavier. Slurred over her icy lips, they seemed to pull on her eyelids. And so, together they — the lack of rest, the absence of a distraction and her self-sung lullaby — slowly nagged on Sunset's caffeine-induced state of being awake. She tried to resist the temptation of getting just a little more of sleep — Twilight's soon... coming. Must stay... awake — however, didn't account for her eyes being such weaklings. They resigned quickly, letting Sunset's body fall to the ground, and her mind into the realm of dreams. Lying on the lawn — the grass her matress, the air her blanket — she curled around, as if she were still in Equestria and were galloping over colorful meadows. Luckily, no bypassers were nearby. Otherwise, they'd probably have called an ambulance thinking she was having a stroke or seizure. But in reality, Sunset tried to hug the backpack she'd let fall when closing the windows to her soul. And when windows are closed and only dark remains, secrets reveal themselves. She began whispering the name of the person she dreamed — probably even wished — the backpack to be. The only person being even more oblivious of Sunset's feelings than Backonhair herself: “T-T-Twi…” Twilight had been gone for almost two weeks now. A workshop on crystalline structures had caught her interest during the girls' last school holidays. And, about three weeks after her application, she had received the long-awaited letter of acceptance. Despite being filled with joy to be able to attend the workshop — for some reason had the same been quite popular — she originally did not intend on attending. She wanted to stay with her friends. They had grown so close to her over the little time she knew them, that being without them seemed impossible — even at learning about friendship, she was the best. Sunset had been the only one of the girls sharing Twi's point of view, hardly letting anyone voice another opinion. It had reminded Twilight of a lion defending its female. She could, to this very day, not fathom why Sunset had blushed so heavily and the others had sighed in distress when she had voiced that thought. However, after everyone had calmed down a bit, the girls were able to reassure Twilight that doing things on her own didn't mean she was a bad friend, making her comply to take part in the much-discussed event. The girls were always delighted to see how much the two Twilights resembled one another. Over-the-top conclusions, bearly believable future scenarios, and hyperventilation seemed to be something one could bond over — counting each other's grey hairs sounds delightful! Convincing Sunset Shimmer was a different story, though. The girl had "calmed herself down" with the nearest alcoholic liquid — an old bottle of liquor from last year's Christmas — she had been able to find. The red-greenish, Christmas themed bottle had served her many times before and had probably seen more of the world than most could ever wish for. Bits of schmutz and wine (liquor wasn't her only companion) outlined fingerprints of shame. The white ornaments garnishing the bottle looked like impregnated snow, but upon closer inspection, turned out to be nothing more than barfed up, hardened booze. Yet, that time it had seemed as if even this old friend could not help her. Sunset had held the liquor bottle over her eye when Twilight came in. The same had been fairly worried about her given sight, thinking that Sunset had already drunk enough alcohol to make her think the bottle was a telescope. Their conversation still plagued Sunset. Even in her current dream. "S-Sunset?" started Twilight, hopefully awaiting a reply. Nothing came in response making the girl unsure whether Sunset and hers exchange of sentimentalities couldn't have been rescheduled to a less... drunk occasion — Twilight was very well aware that Sunset wasn't drunk but wanted to avoid the confrontation she so desperately needed to have, yet couldn't. She was about to quietly leave the room, as if nothing had happened, when suddenly, something in her brain... clicked. She physically, couldn't leave the room. Something, whatever if was, screamed at her to talk — and she listened. Instead of backing off, she stepped towards the red-haired astrologist. "I thought you might need someone to... you know... work stuff out." "I-I don't want to talk right now! I'm way too drunk," came from Sunset’s mouth, as she tried to undercut the sobbing or more so quivering sound her voice wasn't used to presenting itself in. "Your voice is way too clear for you to be drunk. A-And, I wanted to talk to you for a while now," she said before taking a deep breath. "So , I'm not leaving!" Twilight balled up her hands and closed her knees, attempting to look determined. “Then you might as well be talking to a wall,” said an exhausted, almost listless sounding Sunset. Twilight raised one of her eyebrows, looking questioningly at Sunset. "Walls do not talk in Equestria, Twilight." Twilight felt her heart skip, completely ignoring Sunset's cheeky remark, as it was very unusual for her friends to call her anything but Sci-Twi (or Twi for short). She hated that name. It made her feel— "And… ehm. Don't you think you want to go to the toilet before investigating me? I don't care, but it looks like you need some..." A muffled cough behind her hand disrupted her sentence, in the hope, she wouldn't have to end it. Yet, Twi, as oblivious as she always was, didn't seem to catch on and only responded with an unknowing look. “...relief.“ Twilight glanced down, seeing that her "pose of determination" looked as if she was close to dripping all over the floor. But that wasn't her only concern. Sunset’s 'I don't care but…' worried her a little as she was not sure if it was meant to be a joke, or a serious remark indicating that esports wasn't the only sport Sunset enjoyed. "N-No! That was just a... my... nevermind," responded the girl, desperately trying to hide the red curtain of embarrassment spread across her face. "A-And stop trying to distract me!" No response. It seemed as if she had to drag the conversation herself, although when she continued once more, she sounded more sad than serious or worried. "You see..." Silence — like a gardener's shovel on a hot summer day — cut into the sentence as if it was dirt. You can do this. J-Just tell her how you feel. She's your friend and there'll surely be a logical reason. She gulped down her worries as best as she could: "It's just that lately, you've seemed very distant towards me and I have no i-idea why. D-Did I do something wrong? If so, please tell me Sunset. Please..." Twilight's fear was palpable through the thick stone walls and would've probably alerted the others if it hadn't been for them leaving the two alone to sort stuff out. "A-are you still m-mad because I hugged you too hard the other day and made your nose bleed. I still d-don't know why the others found that so funny a-and I'm really sorry if I embarrassed you or something." No, that can't be it! She still talked to me after that. She only started ignoring me after... "I-Is it because you kissed me, Sunset Shimmer?" Why did she say it like that? D-Did she like— "It was just an accident, Sunset. I told you, you didn't have to be embarassed." Tears began welling down Sunset's face. "And, e-even if it wasn't that, can you please stop avoiding me? We can talk about this, but for weeks we haven't been in the same room. You a-always left when I came..." Twilight had in her past — long before she had met her friends — already dealt with ignorance and exclusion. She was used to being cast out by others; but not by her friends. How could Sunset Shimmer, her dearest friend, treat her the same? Was she not good enough to be Twilight, to be herself? Was the other Twilight superior to her in a degree that she could bring nothing but disappointment? Twilight stopped herself from sobbing any further, before once more beginning a sentence — although this time it didn't seem as if she would stop. "D-Do you h-hate me, Sunset Shimmer?" She wasn't expecting an answer, therefore continued, overshadowing Sunset's audible gritting. "Do all of you hate me!? Tell me!" she shouted. "Please... Sunset. Please tell me. Because I can't, and don't want to, answer that question myself." With every word she said, and every breath she took, her throat hurt more and more. But, even if she had to tear her own vocal cords out to get answer, she would do so. "Sci-Twi. Is that all I am? Has my life led to nothing but to become a disappointing replacement for somebody else?" Her voice lost volume as she lay down onto Sunset’s bed and looked at the ceiling. Her eyes were full of tears and did not serve their purpose anymore. Long pieces of wet, thick damask lay upon her eyelids forming a see-through counterpart of her long, voluminous eyelashes. "Twilight. My name is Twilight Sparkle. And hearing it is all I wish for. If my name is directed at me, but at someone other... What implication does that hold. Am I me? Do I deserve to be me?!" She looked into the mirror, desperatly hoping she would see herself and not a princess — she was disappointed. "B-Because otherwise..." Twilight grew silent as she decided not to end that sentence. "Sunset, I don't know if you did it on purpose, or if you did it by mistake, but you called me Twilight just now." Sunset readied herself to get up as she sensed in which direction the conversation would head. Listening to Twilight had become monotonous as it served no function but hold a mirror up to the fire-locked girl. "And as sad as this sounds, it made me h-happy." She smiled feebly, but not for long. The Twilight in the mirror did it so much better; was so much better. "It made me happy to hear one of my friends acknowledge me for who I am. Otherwise, it would've probably been the noose—" Sunset had enough and interrupted her abruptly: "How can you even say such a thing!? We all like you the way you are. We are your friends goddamnit! Do you have any idea how much you mean to us!?" "How can I even say such a thing?!" Twilight responded angrily, being noticeably surprised by Sunset’s words. "Just the other day... "I don't know, Rares. I mean, what are we supposed to do now? She simply ain't fittin' to us. I can barely hear her, and the old Twilight was always so... there. "Oh absolutely, Applejack. But that's just how things are now. I miss her myself, but... Sunset found no response as she could not believe what her ears had just heard. And, she was right to do so... "... it's just a voice. Our old one— Agh, I hate saying it like that. And calling the other by her nickname isn't any better." "You mean, Sci?" "Yes, that one. Or Twi, I believe. But I fear that will have to suffice for now." "Why don't we just call the pony-one, Twi? " "Ah, that's a great idea. Let's talk about that with the others. Anyways... what was I saying again, darling?" "Ehm, something about her voice?" "Ah, yes. So, it's only normal that Sci's voice is a bit more... "tender" than Twi's. Twi has experience in public, as a princess. And Sci... doesn't. Opening up infront of her teachers is something very different from singing in front of a crowd of strangers." "I guess so" "I'm sure it will get better as soon as she opens up a little. It will all work out... "And hearing them say stuff like that made me wonder if me killing myself would ultimately make a difference. I mean, you have the other Twilight, don't you? So who'd really miss me except for my family?" Twilight had calmed down a little making her sound more collected but not any less irrational — lunacy filtered every snippet of sense. "I have already made a list of everything: Who should get what and why, some last wor—" Sunset couldn't hold in any longer, practically shouting: "I would miss you Twilight!" The girl (her face as red as her hair at this point) was furious. "Twilight, I l-lo..." Sunset stopped. "All of us would miss you. You are the smartest, most ambitious, and most beautiful girl I, we've ever met, and we wouldn't trade you for anything in the world!" Twilight looked at Sunset with her big, watery eyes. "How can you lie to me like that, Sunset? How can somebody like me be beautiful? How can you b-be so cruel! I've done nothing but torment you with how inadequate of a human I am! I stole your magic, endangered all of Canterlot High, and almost completely destroyed the world. And all of that because of my selfishness." Sunset became frightened as she understood the root of Twilight's problems, and how she was once more looking at a reflection of herself. Her fragile heart of porcelain exposed to be seen by all. The facade of happiness had fallen. What could only be seen was a cold, dried out, carcass hanging from a few threads. A once blooming rose had found its fate as a faded petal of white and grey — life and love gave way to ashes and anguish. She could hear herself whispering in unison with Twilight, when she once more started talking. "I don't know what to do! How can I make up for what I've done? I have nothing to give this world but sorrow and patheticness. People who once loved me hate me; and that rightfully. Slitting open my veins seems to be what my victims need to forgive me." Though, one sentence was to be heard alone from Twilight’s mouth. "But more importantly, what I need to forgive myself." Sunset's tears painted the floor beneath her in glass, as her own shell had fallen into pieces. She had once had the same conversation with the other Twilight long ago and worked the following years on nothing but to make up for her crimes. She had made others forgive her but had never seen what Twilight had just brought to her eyes. She hadn't forgiven herself. A burst of emotions ran through Sunset's mind as she only then realized that Twilight had indeed spoken to a wall this whole time. A worthless object offering nothing to the situation and only absorbing its contents, had sat in front of her. Sunset fell to her knees as the girls cried a cacophony. "I-I'm sorry," whimpered the both as salty tears ran over their bodies — opening past wounds and drowning hope. The always burning flame having left her, Sunset wanted nothing but darkness; nothing but cold. To sleep in the arms of Lethes to forget, and to be forgotten. Limp like a sack, her head resigned. The impact was hard, the pain not hard enough. And yet, her eyes fell shut. But although the curtain had closed, the play continued. Twilight's screams of loahting were distorted and shifted into ones of pain. Screams that were all too familiar for Sunset — even in her current state — to overhear. Her head shot up as fast as it had fallen. And then, she had seen it... Twilight had broken her glasses and cut her palms. Cuts, deep and precise, began between the gaps of her fingers and were advancing along her radial arteries. Dark blood was smothered across the floor and walls. Gowned in her crimson dress, Twilight had collapsed onto the heater standing next to Sunset's bed. "P-Please..." she wailed as two of her bloodstained fingers reached for the thermostat and gave it a full twist. The cry rendered the room silent. Twilight pressed her hands forcefully against the now-turned-on heater, making her quiver in pain. "Tw-Twilight..." Sunset uttered. Twilight's normally purple hands began to slowly adopt a more reddish tone of color — lavender bleeding of blue. Sunset was stunned by the horrid performance. A house of cards had fallen apart and was to slowly be consumed by flames. The girl tried to get up but felt a stinging pain hindering her. Searching for its source, she bathed her hand in blood and yelped — she herself had been cut. The liquor bottle had shattered. And its shards had eaten their way into Sunset’s inner thigh making her gasp sharply when trying to get up for the second time. I-I cant do it. Twilight had then collapsed on the heater, fully exposing her soft skin to the burning hot metal beneath. Sunset could see the red stains becoming darker and darker. She ached as she pulled herself to her feet instinctively reaching for her friend. "Tw-Twilight..." she silently screamed, limping towards the incapacitated girl. Suddenly, the heater gave off a loud crack before leaning onto its side. Leaving all reservations behind, Sunset sprinted in the direction of the blazing wreck of purple. Her tears tasting salty and full of determination. "Twilight!" The bus loudly stopped at the other side of the road, making Sunset wake up from what she wished to have been a nightmare instead of memories. Author's Note See ya soon, Shim <3
CHAPTER 2: Of oceans and ice.The girl hadn't even noticed the painfully loud sound the bus had caused as it had rustled its way over the road pathing alongside the infamous high school of magical horse girls. It stopped not alining with the reserved parking space, making the halt seem unintended and like the last rest before the vehicle would eventually peg out. It was a semi-modern Leyland bus — or so it looked like at least. Sunset had a fairly hard time differentiating whether the monstrosity of mossy green and cyan she was seeing was a suburban transport vehicle or an equestrian sea serpent (presumably a gay one). Although, tires were to be seen underneath the rusty body, they did not appear to be attached. Thumbling around like grapes pushed onto toothpicks, they were moving much more oval-ish than circular. Safety regulations had probably necked themselves long ago, leaving the seatbelts all on their own — bound to stay and rot. Slowly, Sunset got up, stumbling awkwardly to the other side of the road in an attempt to not look as if she was late. Despite that being the truth, it did not appear to be so. Last day's night decided to mess a little more with poor Sunset — evening had already done its part. Her hair was messy and her clothes were dirty — they had been the same she had worn the day prior. A skimpy, black mini skirt was barely covering her lower half, whilst a partly see-through blouse of yellow and red, capped her upper body. Opened up seams were accompanied by dried out sweat stains caressing her armpits. Further, had the one on one session with her backpack not helped her situation. Her undergarments had been pushed out of place making her outfit come across as even more risqué. She somewhat looked like a hooker, who had been denied a cup of coffee and cigarettes, after having woken up in a stranger's apartment — “You gotta leave, my wife’s here!” Reason for her looking that way was Pinkie's awfully unclear and ambiguous way of explaining her thoughts. “A night out with the girls” turned out to be nothing more but a weird mix of getting stoned with Maud (not to be taken literally) and trying not to inhale multi-colored bits of confetti. It was not an unenjoyable night, but definitely, one taking its toll on Sunset. She had arrived home at around 2 a.m causing her not only to be tired but to carry eyebags making FRAKTAs seems laughable at best. Sunset flinched at the sight of her reflection — a puddle of molten snow had formed midway across the street. She shrieked as she believed to see Steve Buscemi smiling at her. She already knew she looked disheveled but hadn't realized that even a fag-end had more charm (a treat she'd be more than happy to welcome and introduce to her dried-out lips). As Sunset was about to lick her open palm and smother her remaining saliva through her hair — in order to look at least somewhat presentable — she heard cheerful laughter. Laughter she hadn't heard in an awfully long time and thought to have died out long ago. Laughter — gigglish and inept — once to be heard from their band's practice room and all the other places it had carried them. Laughter making worries stray afar and distant. Laughter which belonged to Twilight Sparkle. Princess Twilight Sparkle. She hadn't seen the Princess in ages and was flushed away by feelings of euphoria. It was as if a breeze of mint had streaked her body. Opaque eyes were replaced by shimmering glass, a fallen moon was put up to height. The orange girl was now standing on the street — close to the bus. She could still hear Twilight laughing and was drenched in the wet aroma of ecstasy. It made her clothes feel heavy and led the elated student down a path of pleasant memories before capturing her in a sultry daydream. Sunset slowly sank to the floor and, full of joy, meticulously started crafting answers to unasked questions, and questions in response to unspoken answers. "What have you been up to Sunset?" "The usual. Making sure neither your doppelgänger nor I turn evil again." "G-great. What is your progress regarding your latest Friendship Lessons?" Even when dwelling in her fantasy, Sunset couldn't forget her guilt. She had been slacking lately. “You've already finished 24b: how to take care of intoxicated friends (for beginners). Though, for some reason you decided to skip subsection 23.2c: discussing your love-life.” Why did Sunset start teasing herself all of a sudden? Twilight would probably give her a stern look before saying something along the lines of: "This one is essential for 32.6e and 34a so I expect a fully fleshed out report of the conversation you'll be having.” "B-But Twilight. I—" Sunset noticed she was once more losing herself as she tasted a metallic pinch in her mouth. She had been biting her lips to an extent one could probably consider classifying as self-cannibalism. Whilst doing so, had her molar teeth collectively decided to renovate the girl's oral cavity — the fleshy wallpaper looked "icky" one could say. Sunset rummaged a little in her bag before pulling out a small notebook. Its black cover of leather was used and felt rough to the skin. Time had taken its toll on the album of pushed-aside thoughts, which had been in the girl's possession ever since her downfall. It somewhat functioned as a medium of self-reflection helping Sunset to move on and better herself after the realization of what she'd become. The black leather's pages had given home to many letters and numbers. Incoherent notes and suggestions such as ‘apology yellow girl, painted locker?’, turned —as time passed— into a more calendric format. Notes became sentences and were given structure: ‘9:30; Appointment with RD. Organization of charity marathon’; before fusing into blocks of text and lastly a diary. 'Why does Twilight have to be leaving? I don't want her to.” was the finishing paragraph to a page mostly being filled with a long and exaggerated apology directed at Sandalwood — the girl's last entry. The last entry to be read at least. The next two pages had been violently ripped out of the book; many of the following drenched in tears. The bloated sheets of grey and white had indicated an early end to the diary. Until now. Sunset took a cheap ballpoint —some promotional item for "Rich's Real Estate"— and began scribbling. A note, unreadable and confusing to outsiders stared back at Sunset: 'daydreams help'. She looked a little longer at the abomination of longhand before putting the book back into her bag (simultaneously doing up her attire). The girl took a deep breath before remembering the cause of her excitement and cracking her knuckles — a former habit of Sunset which seemingly returned together with her awful handwriting. Barely able to contain her newfound joy, Sunset grabbed onto the bus and swung herself around the corner. She wanted to surprise the Princess of Friendship and therefore, hid behind a nearby bin. Its cylindrical base —overlayed with a fishnet-like metal grid— was rusty and had fallen prey to the cold's fierce teeth. The white wolf had noticeably marked its territory. A thin layer of snow covering the ground completely, was more like silk than anything else. Only disturbed by occasional growling breezes, it seemed to last eternally. The girl gathered her composure as she knelt down on the snowy floor. The cold stinging erupting from her shin made its way to the most distant of her body's regions. What she felt was not pain but much more so discomfort — a sacrifice to be made in exchange for shelter of her friend's all-seeing eyes. Sunset once more dove into the ocean that was her mind. The cold ice had helped slow down the rapid currents wreaking havoc on the girl's brain. Words faded in and out of existence in the eerie, enchanting depths. Some pleasant, some not. Others funny or sinister. Most were carried away by waves of blue and white — the sea was still unruly. They strayed far away from one another only to be found and remembered on another day. Yet, few remained unfaced. The ones determining Sunset's following course of action. She chose two she judged appropriate for her current position: Giggle Hug And thus, a jolly plan was made. Sunset was ready, happy as ever, to meet the girl that had long ago become her first real friend. She still remembered the days they'd spend simply lying around on comfy blankets. Be it outside where young dandelions tickled their feet and tips of humid grass caressed their noses, or inside surrounded by the smell of warm wood and succulent dates. However, it was not the moment to dwell in nostalgia — a strain of thought long abandoned by the girl in exchange for soothing history and silent mystery. Sunset, for the first time in months, opened the present, stepped into reality, and decided to live. A choice she would soon regret. Sunset peaked over the upper-ledge of the bin and came to a halt. The motion was stopped almost instinctively — but not by her brain. "No..." The girl couldn't believe her eyes, although that didn't matter. What she had seen was replaced by a familiar darkness. Like tar, it drenched the girl's ocean of fantasy. Faint whimpers gave way to silent screams as a starless night fell from the sky. Starless at first. Dead fish soon decorated the dress reeking of death. Black diamonds on black garments. "...i-it can't be." The pitch-black abyss surrounding Sunset grew bigger and bigger. She could feel it filling her lungs and draining any form of strength from her body. Forced to drown motionless in the tenacious sludge the girl could only watch. Watch as two thin lines of white slithered from the depths and glid —like snakes of silk— elegantly in front of Sunset's face. They lingered there a little before turning aslant and rolling out like parchment scrolls. Two words were now illuminating their surroundings and gave Sunset a brief lasting feeling of comfort, perhaps even hope — nothing more but a paper cut-out. Giggle Hug Sunset simply stared at the shivering words — what else was she supposed to do? The girl's consciousness' effort to rescue her from the void that was her psyche almost succeeded. But almost wasn't good enough. The words turned crimson red as they bled out of contrast and aligned with the one-colored canvas. Not only had a battle been lost. It seemed as so had been the war. The war against her own mind. "W̛̕͝͝͞ḩ̡͘͟͟y̨̡͘͡͡ am I like this ?" The girl's sentience resigned and was replaced with sinister silence. Silence to last for everyone caged in its grasp — everyone but herself. "W͆h̟͑y̫̩͂ͫ̓̔̚.ͩ̓̂̎.̦̥̤̥̐̑ͯ̊̐ͫ͛.̀̓̈ w͙͇͍̖̓ͅh̝͖̥̹ÿ̝̭̎̒ͥ̂ͪ.̤̤̥͈̔̄ͯ̾̄.̪̲͕͕̖̠̾͆.͎̟ͩ̎ͩ͂̑ͫ w̱̩ͭh̠̲̽͂ͥͣ̚y̖̣ͥ͐ͤ͛̌̇̍.̣̹̪ͅ.̝̘̠̟̓.̞̌̎̉̂ͪ" Her head had run out of quietness. The bitter replacement Sunset received was the closest she could offer herself: Voices. ̸̵̗͖̥̙̞̹̭̭̫̗͍̠̌̄̓̽͗ͫ͒̇͊̒͂̆ͪ́̀"̸̙̤̭̯̲̮̬̩̬̈́̓ͪ̑̿͒͒ͭ̂̽ͥ͑͜͝͞W̵̷̩̤̳͖̼̮̼̯̖̙̥̺̃̽̊̌͛ͯ͑́̀̕h̵̸̡̺̪̠̜͙̻̯͖̯͖̱̼̱͎͉̒̿͊̓̏̚ÿ̨̢͚̰͓̱̲̞͇ͥͪ̅̎͜ͅ.̨͎̞̪̫̥͇̝̹̻̼̬̘̼̘͔̪̥̥̭ͨ͑ͣ̓ͦͭ͗̏͛ͮ̍̎ͯ̆͑̀̕.̵̊̂̈́ͩͬͬͫ̔̽̀͗̔̋́͏̜͉̱̬͔̬̥̖͔̮̺.̶̹̖͓̗͙͙͚̥̽̎ͯͮ͜͠ͅ w̸̼̮͓̥̩̣̠̫͖̻͆̄͊̓͌ͧ̽̓̒͋́̚ͅh̸̨̬͓̬͙͓̹̥̙͈̲̙͉̳͇̭̓̃ͩ̅ͫͤ̔͗ͮ̓̏ͪ̈́ͨ̀ͭ̚͞ͅỷ̘̝̘̞̺̯͕̲̳͔̘̗̑ͤ͌̋̚̕͡.̵̧͙̙͙̺̝̫̰̭̇ͧͥ̾͌͒̈̔͑̈́͂̉͛̈ͫ̌͠.̢̛͔͚̲̫͉͍̗̹͚͇̣̙͖̦̟̙̄̒̓ͭ̽͗̓ͅ.̵̧̭̜͍̭̲͍̳͈́̐ͣ͟ͅ w̺̮͇̗̮̳͚͈̪̮͔̜͉̗̮̥̜̖̎ͩ̎̋̿ͫ̃̒ͯ̓͆ͭ̋͗͆͗͜͢h̡́͂̉ͥ̓͋̄̈̚̚͠҉̫̞̭̖̣̱̹̱̬͎̼̟̖y͆̍̐̄̔̊̐̑̾ͦ̅͊͞͏͏̪̪̭̪̖̣̘̙̠̥̘̺͖̦͕̣̗.̶̡͛͐̈͒ͥ̑ͦ͊͏̨̛͕̯͙̘̫̯̟͙̰̝͕.̷̡̡̲̬̳̬̫̦̱̣̲̼̭̣̗̎͐͒̉͑̐͋̑ͧ̚͘͝ .̵̛̛̝̗̟͇̣͕͇̥̓̽̋̋̚̚͜͡w͒̇ͯ͒̔̿̉̏͐͒ͫ̿̌ͫ͂̌̀̚̚̚͏̩̮̞̪̮̻͕̯͉̮̞̟̻̬̗h̢̡̛͙͖̟̪̰̥̭̮͍̺̲͔̘̘̗̟͕̮̳͋͛̿ͣ̒ͣ̐͂ͮͯ̔̚͜͝y̛͉͔̘̦͐ͩ̽ͩ̑̾̃ͭ̊ͭͭ͆̓̀̚͟͞͠.͔̼̼͎͎̯͓̺̫͕͕̱̺̀͐̅̈͛̃́̉̋̀̀̚͢.ͮ̎͋͑̉ͥ͗͒̓̇̾̈̋ͯͪͪ́͏̶̨̰͔͚̦͖̩̥̙̫͖̤̻.̴̶̧̡͖͙͈̝̦̠͓̤͕̮̩̯̜̯͗̋̿̌̉ͯͮ̾̀̚̚ͅw̼̝̬͙͈͚̤͉͔̙̲͔͚͍͓̫̫̹̞ͨͯͧ͑ͤ̊ͨ̌̄̑̋̃̐ͥ́̏̀͝hͮ̈́̑͌̎҉̨̢̞̹͙͈͎̹͈͓̜͎̱̫̭̯̼͡͝ỳ͇̬͉̘̳̤͂͌̚̕͢͡͝.̸̷̡͇̺̫̜͕͉̮̯͙̬̬̫̳̬̻̦̳ͯ͌̊ͭͨ͛̚͞.̢̛̝̗͇̞̳͙̳̻̑ͥ͐̿ͥͬ̒ͩ̎ͬ̄̾̑ͭͥ͗ͬ̎.̷̷̧̙̭̘̖̱͓̥̥̓͌͌͊ͦ̅͘͟w̧̘͖̝̺̲̓́͌̏ͬ͗ͥ̒͑̈̀̀͡h̘͈̳̟̜̥ͦ̎̔ͫͦͯ̽͑̀́̚y̵͉͕̳̼͍̣̹̱̩ͬͮ̑́ͦ̕.̾̍̔ͧ̚҉̱̯̳̭͚̳.̂̎ͬ̇͐̎ͭ̏̇͌͆̎͆͂ͧ̚҉̨͓̥̤͇̱̬̫̭͎̹.̶͕̟̗̙̼͎̞̼̤ͮ̒ͭ̃̑̾ͨ̂ͥ̾͐̔̀̽̑̕͡w̷ͫ̒ͣ̓ͫ́ͮ̈́҉͖͖̖̯̫̙͙̭͙̖̜̬̱̤h͆̓͑̿ͭ́͋̅͊͊ͧ͑̆́ͯ̄̀҉̷͉̲̯̙͕̗̱̗̟͔̭̟͙̬̪͠ͅyͫ̔͛͊ͭͬ͋́̋ͫ̃̓̈ͥ҉̸̴̷̻͈̪̝͖̩̝̞̩̤͕͕̕.̷̨̛̹͓̗̞͖̣̤͍̱̄ͫ̈̐̔͑͆̿̇ͨ̆̎̍͒͐͛́͑.̵̲͍͉̟̠ͩ̏̒ͩͣ̿́ͤ̽͗͗̽̈́̎͑̐̎͜͟͝.̶͌͋̄̂ͤͧͫ́̚͜҉҉͚̰͖̟͔̘̻̩͈͓̝̪̰̯͖ͅw̽̈́̐ͥ́ͫͨ̄҉͕̜̳͈̱͔̀h̛͈̜̯̦̯̦̞̬̦̲̹͍̰͍̜̦͙̻̜ͫ̓̉͘͝y̯̹͕̯̱̪̞͌̃̂ͦ̎̋̔͢.̛̃ͥ͆̃͊͘͏̨̙̥̳̠̥͉̥.̶͓̬̘̬͎̭͓̲͙̞̾͑ͮ̋̑͆̌̿̚͢.̤͇͖̹̩̦̩ͦ̏͒ͥ̊̏̽̃͐̕w̶̧̖̺̣̰̮̙̲̱͎̓̉ͭ̑ͭͭ͊ͭ̆͗ͫ͡h̋ͫ̓͂ͨͬ̉ͩͯ̐̅͑ͭ̈́̑͜͏̛̮̞̗̝̱͈̤̺̗̥̳̠͈͝y̶͕̭̮̭̞̖͚̦͚̪͈͓͉͉̳̿̈́̇̈́͐̆ͨ͋̋̽ͨ͡ͅ.̷ͤ͒͐̂ͧͩͨ̓̋̉ͮ̎̉͏̸̡͙̥̱͓̖̞͎̗̯͔̟̳̥̞́ͅ.̴̧͍̲̜̠͍̟̹͚̣̗̎̽͌̊́.̵̗͓͇̻̖̬̠̬̹ͦ̎̈́ͫ͋͛͌ͧ͊͊̃͛̏͛̊ͩ͢ͅẁ̸̢̤̰̝̳̮̭̖͔͚̮̮͆́̂̔̅̾̊ͩ̊ͫ͆̒͊͝ḣ̸͈̮̫͇͈̖̜̦̫̓ͬ͛ͤͮ̈͑̇̍̈̉ͫ͊̔̓̓̂̀̕͜y̷̡̠̯̗̯͚̙͎̫͕̹̾̌̈́̈́͆ͤ̓͘̕͠.̸̸̫̜͓̜̱̻͔̖͍̤͇̬̼̠̠̻̈́ͭ͐̓̅ͨ͋̅̑̑̐̂̉.̧̫̻̖̝̙͙̱̘̱̫͖͔͈̯̜͔̮̤̏ͥ̇͗̓ͥ́͊͞.̸̨̨̲̪̫̣͉̼̤̠̟͈̼̙̘̗̜͉̓͛́̅͌͋ͣ̎̔ͨ̋̈̔͋̒ͦ̄ͥͅw̨̜͔͕̫̮͇̗͚̯͎̻̯̙̱̪͖̌ͣͫ̐̀͟͝ͅh̸̡̛̼̠͚͈͗ͨ̈́ͨ͜͜y̨̙̼͍͙̰̯̝͒̆ͭ͒̓ͣͬ͌̅͌ͮ̚̕͘͘͠.̾͂̔̅̌͗ͣ̉̃ͤ̑ͫ̇̒̍̚͏̸̷͍̠͇͉̝̜̘̯͍̤̯̹͙̜͚̼̥.̵̷̥͎͙̳̼̣͕̙̹̫͋̃ͬ͛̒̔ͤ͌̄̌.ͮ͂̒̔͏̨͔̯͉̮̫̻̬̮w̸̭͔̹̘̬̪̙̪̩̭̭͎̑̓ͫ̌ͯ̕ḩ̴̣̭̥̮̙̞͉ͤ̐́̃ͬͦ͗͋̓ͪ̆͛̒̈́̽ͣ̃̕͟͡ͅy̝̱̯͇̮̻͚̏̓͆̉̒͟͟ͅ.̨̝͖̦̗͔͚̥͔̭̟͍͖͚̃͆ͫ̋̆̒ͥͮ͌ͯͪ͒̎̌.̈́͌̓̉ͧ̓͏̴̺͖̖̲̟̥ͅ.̋ͨͮ̄ͧ̒͐̆̃ͫ̽͏̸̸̸̨̥͈͎̻̪̤̲̤͍̫w̾́͋̾̇̓̎͛͗̚҉̫̺̤͞ͅͅh̩͇̺̣͔͚͇̰̹̣͈̗͖̭̻̼͓͖̅ͯͮ͌̾̐̀͜y̰̲̮̳̫̻͍͈͖͉͓̺̲̭͙͉ͩ͋̿ͨͣ̿́̕ͅ.̆ͯ̉͑̈ͣ̔̍ͦ̎͆ͨ͝͏̠̦͎̫͔͓͇ͅ.̣͖̼͇̲͔̭͇̙͈̩͇͕̻̞̘̰͗̐̽̏ͣ̕ͅ.̡̢̭͔̹̼̰̩̝̣̳̩̦͔͈̹͉̝̮̹ͣ̄͋̃̐ͤ̆́͢ͅ"̄ͣ̔ͩ̃ͣͭ͒͊̐̈̔ͭ̆ͭ̐ͬ̎̕͞҉̻̩̻̞̭̻̩̱͍͟ "Is that all you can say?" interrupted a rather brute voice. It had appeared behind Sunset and was audibly annoyed by the girl's anxiety attack. "If that's all you can say then I'll be glad to give you a reason for doing so." Whoever the voice belonged to, appeared to be suddenly much more relaxed, even delighted. "Hmmmmh..." was given off in a purposely exaggerated manner and supported the next statement following after a quick pause: "How about... a little pain? I know that little Sunny has a lot of experience with that topic, although I'm not sure if you received as much as you caused. Balancing the two will be a handful but I'm sure your purple friend can help us. She seems to be very good at it, don't you think?" Sunset would've murdered whoever it was that was speaking if she hadn't been incapacitated. Instead, she could only growl. Growl at the offense her friend had received as well as her incapability to hinder it. A, as Sunset decided to name ~~whoever~~ whatever was talking, was distinctly amused by the distress he (the voice sounded far more like that of a man) was causing the girl. The raspy horror was about to continue —whenever it talked Sunset could feel a wave of heat making it easy for herself to ready— but immediately stopped itself. A new voice arose from above. "Now, now. Let's not be too hard on the poor thing. Questions are the fool's answers after all." The second voice was that of a woman — frail and much more composed than that of her companion. Chilling coldness was what it brought the girl and her surroundings — her frozen blood tore her veins open from inside. B's source was not determinable. Sunset only managed to pin its source down to somewhere in front of her. It started anew: "Tell me, what sound do you expect a snake to make? An 's' sound that is. And would it make a different noise if you were to listen to it on another day? No, it wouldn't. Why is that so?" "Because—" The other voice tried to answer but was quickly interrupted. "Don't answer. This is a monologue. Where was I? Ah yes. Because a snake has never learned anything different but 's'. So how can we expect our snake right here to do anything but ask and demand?" Sunset desperately tried to understand what was happening. Just a moment ago she had sat behind a dustbin and wanted to surprise her friend. Now she was caged in an ocean of tar surrounded by two voices talking nonsense. Worst of all, she wasn't frightened by the situation. Everything felt strangely familiar making her nothing but angry. And yet, she wasn't angry at the voices (not anymore at least), but herself instead. But wh̴̯̀ỷ̴͕? What had she seen that had caused all of that? Was she going insane? "That would simply be cruel now, wouldn't it? So what would you propose we can do to fix that?" After a long pause and something that sounded like a cough A finally got the memo. "Teach her new words?" Sunset could hear thatA was definitely intimidated by B. "Correct. I already thought of one you will enjoy." Sunset dawned on what the word was going to be — she knew her mind better than anyone else. Now she felt something. She felt angst. Sunset was preparing herself for what the voices would do but soon realized that it had no use. The voices had fallen silent. Without a noise, they had left. Sunset was waiting for something to happen. She waited for what felt like hours without any response. The girl was still clueless about what any of what happened meant. And ŵ̷̩̟͋̀͘h̴̢͙͛͊y̷̨̿ it ha—. All of a sudden, Sunset could feel an immense pressure surrounding her torso. It focused on her lower stomach and became increasingly stronger. Only after a few seconds, she realized that she found herself in someone's grip. The tighter it got, the clearer she could feel a pair of massive paws pulling on her ribcage from beneath. The bones in her arms were coming each other dangerously close. Her spine was cracking as Sunset yelped in pain. A feeling which the girl would've normally enjoyed was way too intense for her. It sounded as if countless nutcrackers were biting down on her bone-column. Sunset was close to passing out when the weight on her bones finally retrieved. But not without taunting Sunset one more time. "Hug. Is that what you had in mind?" Sunset couldn't decipher which voice was talking or if it was one of the two in the first place. Her eyes slowly fell shut causing not darkness but shine? There she was. Back on the pavement behind a trash can, eyes full opened in shock. Once more, she saw herself exposed to the almost caricatural depiction of the imagery she had wanted to see. The imagery that had brought anger and dread with it. Twilight Sparkle was standing a few feet away from the girl. Still laughing in delight as she was talking with someone on her cellphone. There was no princess to be seen. Only a teenage girl in glee. She had been so sure to be seeing the Princess in front of her. But w̶͓͋h̸̫̃— for what reason? The realization as to why that was the cause had been lost in the chasm Sunset had fallen into. Yet, the girl managed to retrieve it shortly after and wished herself to be back in the twisted realm of two malicious voices. She had never heard Twilight Sparkle laugh. In all the years she knew the alternate version of her closest friend, she had never heard her laugh. Waves of memories once more made the sea turn into a frenzy of water and salt. Images, unclear and mangled, passed her eyes as if being a film spool. Faces were blurred and colors pale. The constellations of people she saw were all different to the core. Yet, one detail was the same in all of them. Whilst different people were cackling there was one never doing so. A young girl. It always carried a weak smile on its lips, yet it looked like the biggest burden. Sunset expected to cry at what she saw but didn't. She was once more feeling... angry? ‘Why?’, the girl wanted to know but hated herself for doing so. From the beginning on, she had known what was happening. She always did — something the voices had been fully aware of. Sunset wasn't angry for not noticing her friend's depression much earlier. She was angry because she wasn't the one making the girl happy. She despised her selfishness. How... how… could she be that way? Sunset's nails cut deep into her palms. She slammed her pulsating hands onto the floor. Thereby, accidentally hitting the trashcan and almost making it tumble. The observant girl of purple quickly picked up on the motion and was pushed by her curiosity. "I have to go now. I'll talk to you later." Sunset, of course, wasn't deaf either and perked up realizing she was standing hoof-deep in shit. The girl pulled out her notebook — it seemed to be of common use again — and hastily wrote down three notes: '***l***t', '*e**har* **nde****s' and 'daymares. help' Twilight was further advancing towards the frozen cylinder… ...and Sunset was awaiting her. Author's Note See ya soon Shim <3
CHAPTER 3: Cinnamon?"I have to go now. I'll talk to you later." She hung up. It was a rather abrupt closing sentence to a conversation, encapsulating the joy she had experienced over the last two weeks. Twilight wanted to chatter a little longer with whom she was speaking — the girl she had met at the workshop she had just returned from — but sadly couldn't. Her curiosity wouldn't let her. Something had rattled on a nearby dustbin, leaving her no choice but to investigate the noise's source — the girl was bored anyways. Her friend, Sunset, should've supposedly picked her up by now but was nowhere to be seen, leaving Twilight nothing but disappointing confusion. Although Twilight didn't want to admit it, she liked not grasping things (just a little) as it always meant for her to be able to learn something new. But from instances like this one, there was nothing to be gathered. Twilight had already intensely studied the human (obviously also the equine) psyche but, as usual, could only wonder what was going on inside Sunset's brain. It was intriguing yet frustrating — a feeling Sunset let Twilight often feel. Alongside waves of heat that is. Twilight had now many times noticed that Sunset's body temperature drastically increased when being around her. Although, that wasn't the only thing that had let Twilight's interest in the girl's behavior reach new heights. An unusual increase in Sunset's pupils' radius commonly accompanied by behavioral abnormalities, such as heavy breaths and tendencies towards Pica were quite intriguing. Had her transformation, no matter how long ago it first happened, had any influence on her biological features? Especially the potential hormone-based differences could be of importance. She had to make a list!: investigation of Sunset's physical(/psychological~reconsideration of cancelled experiment 7c; response to consumption of repugnant substances) changes; focus on hormonal differentiations to humans: estrous cycle; menstrual cycle... After many rearrangements, satisfied with her wording and formatting, Twilight advanced towards the trashcan still in puzzlement as to why Sunset hadn't arrived yet — had she forgotten? Had her alcohol abuse and reckless behavior finally caught up leaving her behind as a brain dead vegetable? Or had she "simply" started life as an ascetic wandering the woods of Kerala in search of god? All seemed equally possible to the purple teen (she tended to overstate in situations of uncertainty). The girl looked around, timidly stumbling forward. She moved as if walking across car-clustered streets only waiting for an avalanche of lacquered, polished aluminum to crush down on her. Why? Probably because her past experiences with vehicles had taught her that even a bus standing still could drive fear into the deepest depths of hell — how was that thing still in use? research of safety certifications and other laws regarding (public) transportation Twilight was now about 8.371 feet (a more accurate estimation could not be provided due to optical impairment of the measurement's conductor (=she was blinded by the sun)) away from the trash can. It was one of many standing periodically alongside the streets of watery snow extending past the girl's horizon — limitless it seemed. The 'Park Vue Bins', uniformly dark-blue, differed in nothing but the amount of spray paint that had found its way onto their surfaces. Twilight analyzed the graffiti closely only growing further puzzled. The girl murmured to herself: "Fgt? What does that stand for? F-f-f... hm." Twilight gaped into the distance drawing the startings of potential answers to her self-question into the air. She somewhat looked like Vicky when her tender hands ceased moving and slowly placed themselves on her nose bridge — resting there awhile. Twilight began looking silly as she buried her face increasingly deep in her open palms — a porcelain face packed in thin, purple tissue. It was hard to tell whether the girl was sleeping or eating pocket-ravioli, yet, it somehow worked..: "Franco-German Treaty! That's it." The ecstasy could be smelled miles away. Twilight Sparkle had once more proven herself to be one of the awesome™ kids (probably spelled with a 'z' although that would simply be ridiculous) as Rainbow Dash always said. Speaking of Rainbow... One of the cylinders had: "Does RD speak good French?" painted (was painted the right term?) over it. remedial education on "street painter slang"; in-depth studies later on As if that wasn't enough, there was something added in another hand-writing just beneath the perplexing statement: "She a dike u dumbass, bitch ass hoes. With that shy bitch." Was that even English? The only thing Twilight could make out from that were several rather… inappropriate words. The rest was undefinable to her: "H.O.E.S? Is that a term ending on 's', an acronym or misuse of the plural form? But what's a hoe... or perhaps ho, then?" Her inability to understand any of what had been written led her to the conclusion that it'd be best to ask an expert on the subject of verbal intercourse among minors|adolescents, who was coincidentally also the matter of the conversation. But that would be for another time. The girl had let herself be distracted for much too long. She even forgot to write down what she wanted to discuss with Rainbow when she regained focus — luckily, she had taken photos of the playfully colored bin. Yet, it would've probably not mattered all that much. Twilight was determined potential knowledge could wait for once. As long as it meant that the turbines roaring in her brain, powered by the mysterious noise, would fall silent and let her concentrate on more important things. Although, that too, had to be explored later on. Eight feet (three extra digits seemed overly specific and not appropriate for such a non-scientific occasion) were no long interval, yet... nothing. They were no long interval. The girl didn't like embellishing facts. And socially accepted norms indicated that eight feet were, in fact, not considered a 'long interval' although the term 'distance' was probably used more commonly. Rainbow would've probably agreed with her as she wasn't really fond of that style of writing in some of the earlier works of A.K. Yearling — it was just, so not awesome™. And that was totally not her. She would've probably not understood Twilight's reasoning and called her an 'Egghead'. But that was just Rainbow. On the other hand, there was at least one person she knew would disagree with her on that matter. Twilight, with now much quicker pace (however, still quite slow), walked plainly and without hesitation towards the can. Other people might've been afraid and unnerved if they'd heard something rattle in a place where that shouldn't happen, but not Twilight — at least during daytime. The sun gave Twilight confidence. She had always felt as if it was... guiding her? She couldn't explain why but it had always been there, the feeling of safety and comfort when the brisk light shone onto her. It had always made her happy seeing how thin rays of light managed to dance their way through thick clouds. It seemed so... celestial — the use of that word felt amiss, yet conversely, it felt just... right. However, there was something she loved more than the sun. Something very contradicting to the feelings of admiration she had shown. It was... ...Sunset. She loved Sunset so very much because... N-not her friend of course. That would just be silly. B-because... And weird. A-and t-totally inappropriate. It's not like she didn't like her. Just not in that way. R-right? (The) Sunset ~by an amateur poet [written during a boring German lesson] Ich liebe ihn; And I am oh so keen To tell him How much he means to me Doch wie kann ich bloß 'st wahrlich ein schrecklich Los A fate as grim as it might get I'm hanging on strings; will it be my neck? If only I had wings I'd fly to her Fänd ich wohl kein Gehör The Sunset I may never reach And yet I beseech; To be near you And to hear you And to smell, to taste And let nothing go to waste Oh, Sonnenuntergang, Es grenzt an Zwang To love you For only, you may tell When it is time to farewell Yet you never do. Oh, Sonnenuntergang, You never do. That's why I love you. ~ "What do you think girls?" "I sure hope it'd be your neck." "That's unrelated to the story and solely because you're a bitch that's pent up over the fact your bedpost is your best friend." "It is related to the story but I guess you're not smart enough to figure that out, dog. None of them are good. So I guess it's even more than simply shit." *sigh* "This is all your fault. She's always been so full of herself and your approval isn't helping." "I like them. And it's not like she's hurting anyone. And she's so totsies cute when she's so contemplative." "You don't even know what that means." "I do!" *giggle* *hug* "Hmph. Stop that." "Is everything ok?" Sunset wondered. She had prepared herself for Twilight's arrival several minutes ago. And yet, there was nothing to be seen, or heard for that matter. The worry of finding herself in an embarrassing moment with her friend was squashed under that of the same friend being in danger. It sunk deep down into Sunset's memories to be rediscovered on another, more fitting, day. The deafening silence was way too reminiscent of a certain night that had unfolded itself not too long ago. Angst sprang aloft clawing itself onto Sunset's ribcage. The girl could feel her heart sink as anxiety and dread entered through her pulmonary veins, swam skywards and crawled up her throat — consuming her brain, and with that, her calm and rationality. There was no tapping of heels, no more cackling, hell, not even breathing. And Sunset didn't have the perseverance to idly sit and wait for something to happen. She had to act. She couldn't be late a second time. Sunset rapidly jumped up from her squatting position, starting not only her motion but the performance of an orchestra — an orchestra of bones. Not a good one, though. The music was clamorous at best. Especially her spine made noise as if being used as an accordion — usage as a flute would've been more fitting (obviously). The following turn was slow, the instinct realization wasn't. A warm breath, a sudden gasp, and a streak of hair. Umpf "Wh-what?" stammered Sunset. The girl's head was practically vibrating from the collision it had just witnessed — her ears were no better: Sound was choked until suffocation, before even being able to be processed. "Ughn-n," came in response accompanied by a breath of... cinnamon? Sunset slowly opened her eyes only to be greeted by a flickering, shaky image of... pink, or perhaps purple? Things slowly dawned on her — but cinnamon? The girl carefully extended her left foot in search of the shoe which ought to have supposedly sat atop of the same. She felt a piece of firm cloth caressing first her hallux, and then its friends — It had to be near! "H-Hello?" was asked feebly from opposite the girl — the voice felt distant and hollow. "I-I'm terribly sorry for running into you b-but I heard something a-and..." The rest was inaudible — too faint and carried away by the ever so slight breeze hushing past. Dawn gave way too dusk. Her assumption of whom she had run into had been terribly false. Twilight was occasionally quite shy, but never to that extent. There was only one girl she knew who became anxious even when talking to herself. "Fluttershy? What are you doing here? Weren't you supposed to be staying at Rainbow's or something?" "Fl-Fluttershy? I'm—" The questioning intent and audible confusion rushed directly past Sunset (as well as the content of the answer), as she jumped in to interrupt the baffled girl. "Ah, was she so pushy again? I really need to talk to her about that." Sunset realized her indecency, or at least what she thought to be indecent — the pure innocence lying partly beneath her had no idea what was going on. "Oh, perhaps a bit too direct. Ehehe, sorry. I'll be a bit more... discrete. But remember: You can always talk to me when you got something on your mind." "A-actually, I'm not—" "Just not now," interfered Sunset once more. "I kinda... bucked up and now I need your help. You don't happen to have seen Twilight anywhere near, have you? Because it might be that I've... lost her." Hhm? "Lost me?" Twilight wondered. Was she spying on me? The girl would've very much liked to hear what Sunset was on about but couldn't bring herself to play along. After all, honesty was one of the virtues one should follow when aiming to establish... and maintain a healthy relationship|friendship. Twilight once more tried to stop Sunset from rambling about things she didn't want to hear and desperately tried to ignore. "S-Sunset?" Still something about falling asleep and mistaking her or something like that. "Sunset." This time more urgent. Nothing. "Snap out of Sunset!" the girl shouted, louder than intended making her frantically shut her mouth. Sunset finally looked up, meeting Twilight's gaze before freezing mid-sentence. Oh. "Oh, Celestia," the girl thought, "how could I mistake her for Fluttershy? I knew it was her, I knew it. If only it hadn't been for that damn cinnamon. Twilight hates cinnamon, so why'd she— Argh, stupid spice!" The girl would've strangled herself right there if the embarrassment from earlier hadn't risen and crushed into her skull, carried by tons of water. Sunset sadly got no fracture —it would have certainly helped avoid the situation— but instead was only given blushes making even the reddest roses seem pale. "H-hey Twilight," Sunset sounded like a nervous 5th-grader wanting to ask out her crush, but quickly pushed that pussy in a ditch and shielded herself with false-confidence, "so, ehm, how ya doin'?" Twilight gave Sunset a stern look but couldn't help herself but lift her lips a little — a minor detail Sunset failed to catch. The shield broke immediately. "About that whole, you know... spying thing. I-I just wanted to make sure that you're safe and stuff. Not that you can't take care of yourself. I meant that—" Twilight leaned forward embracing Sunset. A shiver of warm, vivid joy shot throughout Sunset's insides letting massive chunks of anxiety and uneasiness melt into sticky, viscous euphoria. "I missed you too Sunset," the girl whispered. Had she just winked at her? No, she hadn’t. The only winking happening was buried deep beneath Sunset's shorts. The two girls sat, legs spread apart but torsos tightly rubbing against each other, on the ground — deeply entwined and damp from the stifling odor of cinnamon. The physical affection Sunset experienced in that moment was nothing short of heavenly. Her delicate hands felt every inch of Twilight's back: The tiny spinous processes, her scapula, and sadly, every wound. They were engraved into the girls back paining her... and Sunset — a map of cuts and scars lay itself over the beautiful image of Twilight's body, tainting it in blood. Blood threatening to suffocate Sunset if she didn't wake from the trance of bliss and glee she had cocooned herself in. Sunset realized that she still hadn't found her shoe and extended her foot. Twilight apparently noticed Sunset's increase in leg activity: "Should we get up?" "Yeah, I guess we'll get too wet otherwise." Thankfully, Twilight didn't understand sexual euphemisms (even if unintended). "But let me get my shoe real quick. It should be somewhere..." the girl abandoned her sentence and stretched her lower body. There it was! Sunset's sole found a piece of tender viscose, or at least that was what she believed the material to be. It seemed to deviate from what her feet were normally used to being garmented in, but it was close enough — probably just the snow that made it feel different. Sunset got to the edge of the fabric and felt something else. But she couldn't quite put her toe on it. At least, until Twilight involuntarily assisted her in identifying the material: "S-Sunset. I really don't think that your shoe is somewhere around there. And I would be really glad if you could st-stop," she sounded breathy. Skin, Oh no. Sunset looked up from her lap and died of embarrassment — or at least wished to do so. If only she'd be able to form a noose with her hair and hang herself. The epiphany had hit her too late — way too late. Yet, still not to the degree she deserved — it should've blown her brains out. Sunset was staring at Twilight's fully exposed underwear. And her foot was almost beneath it. Despite the situation, Sunset couldn't resist but scrutinize the lingerie: A white pair of Hipsters with the cutie mark of her counterpart embedded in the front. Simple but effective; a clothing-habit Twilight had developed over the years to save time for her studies. That's why the absence of a school uniform at Canterlot High was still something she had to adjust to. Sunset pulled her heel away and was about to apologize when Twilight herself jumped in and helped her. Kinda...? "Look Sunset." The girl sounded exhausted. "I don't want to know what happened yesterday night..." A long pause put unintended empathize on the second part of the sentence making it seem somewhat snooty, "or this morning by the way it looks." "Ouch," thought the former horse surprised by her friend's harshness. She was desperately waiting for her friend to say: "Er, no offense." to find herself on top of the situation but was brutally disappointed when Twilight simply continued talking. "I want to talk about this as little as you, trust me. I could pretend that everything is alright. Just like you have been." Twilight was staring deeply into Sunset's eyes. It was apparent to Sunset that she wasn't facing an angry Twilight. Instead, there was something in the girl's eyes which, normally, was exclusively reserved for her in their relationship. Concern. "And I've partly done that. Making me just as, if not more, responsible." "What was she one about?" echoed through Sunset's brain. If only she could read minds and page the girl's thoughts. "Sunset..." A long sigh one would usually find at the start of a YouTuber's apologie broke the sentence weighing heavily on Twilight and wanting to escape. Letting it do so in smaller parts was the easiest for her but made it oh so much harder for Sunset to process the halting flow of information. "We really need to talk about your drinking problem." Sunset's face was blank of emotion. A pale orange mask was hiding entrance to a circus. The girl would've broken out into laughter if it hadn't been for the dire situation and the obvious concern of her friend. She decided to play along — for Twilight's sake. "My what now?" retorted Sunset decked with a hint of artificial outrage. "Have you heard the term 'alcohol flush reaction' before, Sunset?" The window of time Twilight gave Sunset was too short to be noticeable, let alone, for an answer to climb through. It appeared to simply be a normal pause in the girl's flow of speech. "It basically describes the inability of a person to correctly digest alcohol, or rather, acetaldehyde. The reaction is usually caused due to a faulty enzyme; the aldehyde dehydrogenase 2 gene. That, on its own, is nothing one has to worry about. However..." Sunset stopped listening and plunged into sea. She knew Twilight would soon —after she had finished her monologue— get to the point and give her an absurd (yet somehow plausible) explanation for her misbelief. So why not dive into your memories and try to find out yourself? The water was comfortably vibrating on beat with Twilight's damped voice. Sunset swam further downwards. When hitting seafloor the girl stirred up some silt, hoping to discover something that could help her. Sunset was about to revisit some of the moments she had spent time alone with Twilight (her favorite memories), but was harshly yanked out of the water and flew headfirst onto the shore. It was rocky and Sunset couldn't be bothered with also coming up with what kind of stone it consisted of. It was white. There she was. Stranded on an island she herself had created. Helpless and fully exposed to Twilights' unfiltered voice. The roaringly loud noise made the water retract and, with that, brought ebb. All thoughts were gone leaving her no choice but to focus on the moment. She prematurely got back from her vacation just in time to witness Twilight's conclusion. "...one of many symptoms are erythema. Most commonly in the neck, upper body and... face. Especially the cheeks of a person with ALDH2" — using the abbreviation sounded weird — "deficiency will become red, or rather flushed." Sunset was still oblivious as to where Twilight was heading. "She can't be that stupid?!" "And you, Sunset, have not had a non-flushed (the usage of a double negative seemed uncharacteristic for Twilight) face in the last four months or so. Perhaps even longer. There are of course other possibilities as to why that is the case but tachycardia, your increased heart rate, supports my thesis." Had she been blushing around Twilight? "Don't get us started on that shit again." "Giver her a minute. She'll figure it out." "Other causes may be diseases you are unlikely to, and hopefully don't have. Face blushing also seems strange hence I see no reason for you to be nervous or something of that sort, which would explain a release of adrenalin." Or had she really been drinking too much? "No, you haven't ." N-No, she hadn't. She... she... she... "And by the way you are looking at me," interjected Twilight stopping the forced epiphany, "I can tell that you are clearly in no position to talk right now." Twilight stepped forward, pulled out a silken handkerchief and carefully wiped away some of the slobber around Sunset's mouth. Apparently, her ocean of thoughts had been leaking. The way back to Sunset’s apartment was toilsome... and adorable. "Let's get you home and into your bed. What do you think about that? You look like you could need some sleep." She sounded like a social worker talking to a troubled child that had just thrown a fit — calm and assuring. "And later we'll talk about everything. No pressure. Just you and me." Sunset only nodded. She was far too gone for her to respond. Twilight smiled brightly: "Great. Then let's get going." She helped the girl stand up, made sure no belongings were left behind and tightly held Sunset's hand. She made sure it wouldn't stay lonely. Not for a single second. With quick pace —but not too pushy— Twilight led the girl towards her apartment. Sunset, as if being on autopilot, silently walked next to her. It made the purple girl periodically look back to make sure her friend didn't get lost on the way home. After having clumsily entered the apartment, Twilight carefully, and without any intent besides aiding, helped Sunset undress (not that there was much clothing on her in the first place). Baconhair was laid sidewards onto her bed and soon fell asleep. Twilight very much needed to do so too, but didn't care. She got a chair, placed it next to the sleeping girl, and sat down. One hand guarding that of her friend, the other holding a book under the dimmed light barely reaching from a lamp across the room. "Everything is going to be fine, Sunset... ...I promise." Author's Note See ya soon, Shim <3
CHAPTER 4: Good morning.The kitchen was in full motion: Pans were scratched over hotplates; spoons twirled around. Forks and plates were dumped in the sink to be replaced with ones less dirty — someone would do the dishes sooner or later. Yet, it hadn't been the turmoil waking her up — she had gotten used to the inconsiderateness of her roommates. It had been the gentle sizzle arising from the flames of the battlefield, that their kitchen had become. Winding its way through the thick, clammy forest of unwashed, sweaty hair, it had managed slinking to her ears. With it, bringing a miasmic smell of tart bacon to her nostrils. “Ugh-h.” Her lashes flung open as the acidity of rhubarb and foul meat flood her nasal cavity and began etching its way through her palates. Trying not to share last night’s dinner with her blanket, she shot up — the rapid movement and following vertigo not helping the situation. She would’ve torn her tongue apart with the amount of slurs she wanted to shove down the universe’s throat, if it hadn’t been for her own being filled with semi-solid broccoli and tuna. Running to the door, the girl realized she’d have to walk directly towards the stench’s source for her to get to the bathroom — the rapid turn she took left her soles burning. However, in motion she had been able to spot the small bucket cowering at the end of her bed. Normally standing in their kitchen, she was surprised to find the object — yet not any less delighted. Getting on her knees and leaning over, she saw a small note —written on a pink post-it— had been attached: Hey, there sleeeeepy! You were, like, totes dusty yesterday and I thought it’d be nice if you didn’t ruin Aria’s panties again. Soooooo, I left you this gift. I’ll be back in, like, later. Please be nice to Aria, she’s real grumpy this morning. But I’m sure you’ll get along… this time. Anyways, Love you two <3 P.S. It’s the trash can; the gift. Bet you didn’t see that coming! “You’re such a dork Sonata,” she said not being able to stop her lips from slightly rising. “Sometimes I wonder why you’re still with u—” “Agh, fuck! Fuck shit fuck. How does this stupid thing work?” The voice whose owner she would’ve at any other time, wanted to give a crippling punch to the kidneys made her faint smile jump to a maniacal grin — only further growing when she heard their electric whisk crying for help. “I-Is she… trying to cook?!” Adagio burst out into hysterical laughter, as images of Aria using perfume as aroma additives flashed past her eyes. “What is it this time? Cougar piss and pomegranate? What else could smell so utterly disgusting aside from her snatch.” Her mouth remained open as her brain reminded her of Aria's so-called ‘Hawaiian Pizza’. The thought of having to ever smell, or rather see, pineapple on pizza again made her want to vomit (once more). And just like that, her confidence had evaporated — as fast as it had built itself up. “Oh please god. Let it be cougar piss,” Adagio whispered —her voice having left her— as she stepped through the door into the corridor leading to the kitchen. Even with her fingers guarding its entrance, her nose was pierced by the ineluctable odor pressing itself through every inch and crack. Not being able to resist it, she tried to avoid it — scything wrath into the cloud bleeding of decay. Flapping her unoccupied arm in front of her, Adagio waddled to the kitchen like a disabled duck. Just as she arrived, Aria sat down at the small plastic table standing in the corner of their humble, tiled 55ft² nest — food was most of the time regurgitated instead of actually being eaten. “Oh for fuck's sake, Aria. What the hell were you doing in here?” “Cooking. But you already knew that. So what’s the deal?” She didn’t even bother to look up from her plate. “Don’t act like you know stuff. Not a good look on you.” Adagio began walking to the fridge — her warm feet clashing with the cold floor. “Wanted to make sure you were actually cooking.” The hollow emphasize put on the last part of the statement made Aria’s ears perk up ever so slightly. “I mean, it smells fetid in here.” “You don’t say,” Aria retorted — the sarcasm drenching her voice dripping to the floor in synchronization with outside’s morning dew, “I thought it smelled lovely.” “Sometimes I wonder if brushing your teeth can be considered anal.” Without having to open the fridge, Adagio was greeted, with not disgust, but cold disappointment. Pity, no one had the right to give the Siren: “Oh how the mighty have fallen.” Adagio could feel it slip again, her last bit of pride. She wanted to break it into shards and slit Aria’s throat with it. But she couldn’t give her the satisfaction of seeing her break; she wouldn’t. “What was that?” “Nothing. I just thought I was speaking to a Siren for a moment. Guess I must have overlooked Sunset Shimmer’s name tag around your neck.” Adagio opened the door, grabbed a carton of milk, and turned. “Nothing edible smells that way so you better—” “Your gash does.” Only for you, Sonata. “Bon appetit.” She turned and walked off — leaving only… ...silence. Nothing but silence. No talking, no buzzing of lamps, no baaing of lambs, no turning of pages. Nothing. And yet, she awoke. Crispy bacon was sweating in its own fat and let everyone have a taste of its perfume. Happily dancing ‘round the room; up the stairs to her bed, the scent made its presence known. “Ugh-h.” Her lashes slowly lifted as the pleasant smell tickled her nostrils. It was a sensation unknown to her nose; strange. Intrigued as it was, her body pushed itself up without command — the gentle motion giving her sight a faint blurriness. She looked to her site and saw it. Something she had hoped and feared to see. Nothing. “Yesss. Oh, thank Celestia, yes.” A dream. I knew it! I knew it had to be a dream. The girl wanted to shove her tongue down the universe's throat and show the Prench how it’s done. And she would’ve done so if it hadn’t been for her own being filled with relieved laughter. “Oh Pinkie, you won’t believe what I just dreamed,” she shouted before jumping down the stairs. She felt weightless. Her heart had stopped bleeding tears and her arms had freed themselves from the anchors chaining her. “By the way, thanks for driving me home last night!” “Silly, you were super-duper sleepy. Should I have just thrown you out of the car like the worthless whore you are?” Pinkie’s voice came from the kitchen. “N-No, you shouldn’t have.” Sunset cackled. “Anyway, what smells so good?” Running past her TV Sunset saw her make-up from last day’s evening had been washed away by salty rivers. “Quite the surreal dream, don’t you think?” “Yeah, guess so.” Reaching for the door knob Sunset flinched. Something’s wrong. “Pinkie?” Her voice was shaky. An unnaturally long pause cut in. “P-Pinkie? Are you still th-there?” “Of course I am. Unless I’m not. But I wouldn’t know either then. Anyhow, come in. Everything’s gettin’ cold. And you know what my grandma used to say about cold food.” Sunset didn’t know. Did that matter? No. Behind the door, there’d undoubtedly be Pinkie and everything would be fine. She twisted the knob… … and entered. Adagio’s and Sonata’s room was just like one would imagine the living place of two powerful, mythical beings: Two “beds”, each consisting of one half of a former bulk waste mattress, were carried by towers of cardboard boxes — Adagio quickly gulped down the last sip of milk before carefully arranging it inside of Sonata’s pile. A pink —as chosen by Sonata— piece of carpet filled the ten-inch gap between the two resting places. Atop the same stooda small chest of silken smooth ivory. The rest of the room was filled with clothes forming their own cupboards, and the fetor of defeat emanating from torn apart-music sheets. Adagio paved her way through the glorified shithole she called ‘home’ until she reached the chest. There, she came to a halt. “Here we go, old friend,” she said. Carefully, she traced her fingers along the gold embedment of three crystal-pendulums surrounded by depictions of flowers and cornucopia. It adorned the front and was replicated on each side of the chest. The lid of the chest was carved with cursive letters of similar gold. Adagio loudly read out the inscription. “F-For you may ever bloom, mayst ever sing. Hope you shallst bring, to lands of far, lands missing neume. Thee sister gold, us brought ‘wayst from cold. Livest long… Adagio… Aria… Sonata… Tears began running down her face. C-Cantata… Painting it in pain. Cavatina… Leaving nothing but quietus. Fantasia… Adagio rammed her nails down into her temples as she broke out into relentless screaming. Farsa… Viola… Blood streamed down her fingers and painted the chest in rose quartz. e Campana.” Her eyes fell shut and her mouth agape… … as she saw that Pinkie wasn’t in the room. “Calm down Sunset,” she said to herself as she tried not to gag on the anxiety blocking her lungs. “Y-You’re still dreaming then. B-But that’s no bad, r-right? You’ll wake up any minute now.” “I swear to Celestia Sunset—” “Shut up.” “Sunset, dearie. We just want to—” “SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP!” It had returned. The bittersweet silence. “You’re not real. A-And I’m not crazy. This is all just a dream and I’m just gonna pinch myself and w-wake up!” And so she did. But nothing happened, making her continue. She pressed her nails harder and harder together, until she felt a liquid seep through the gaps of her fingers and slither down her arm. “Argh.” Sunset opened her eyes and ran to the table. Without looking, she grabbed what looked the most like paper and compressed the wound. “No dre— Buck that hurts. No dream then.” The silence was locked as the rattling of keys brought noise to Sunset’s world. Her eyes rushed around the room — her brain trailing behind, as she tried to understand what was happening. Before she could react, the door to her apartment was pushed open and someone stepped in. “Oh, you’re awake already? Good, moooorning!” Author's Note Fewer horsewords in more time? Swindle! As always, (constructive) criticism and comments are appreciated! Edited by the lovely serenityx. See ya soon, Shim<3
