The Armor Hypothesis

by SnowOriole

Rating: everyone
Tags: Drama, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Comedy, Other, Shining Armor, Slice of Life
Length: 7007

The three biggest losers of Canterlot Elementary find out the intimidatingly smart, quiet unicorn colt in class doesn't have a cutie mark. They take the only logical path from there.

“Ummm, actually…” Shining fidgeted, looking down. “I don’t have my cutie mark yet.”

Eight Bit gasped. “No way! You’re still a blank flank? You? Shining Armor?”

Shining pulled his bangs over to hide his gloomy face. “Yeah…”

The three biggest losers of Canterlot Elementary find out the intimidatingly smart, quiet unicorn colt in class doesn't have a cutie mark. They take the only logical path from there.

Written for BaeroRemedy for Jinglemas 2021

Characters & Cover Image from MLP FiM IDW #11: Neigh Anything

Published 2021-12-24 08:00:01 UTC
Last updated 2021-12-24 08:00:01 UTC

For This I Shine

In a noisy classroom on the third floor of Canterlot Elementary…

On a rumpled piece of parchment, a quill moved industriously. Black ink printed rows and rows of numbers, letters and mathematical symbols.

Blue eyes followed these formulae with a piercing concentration. Eyebrows furrowed at one point, and soft white hooves shuffled, gripping the book beside to flip back a few pages, before turning attention back to the half-filled page.

“Hey, Shining— whoaaaaa!”

At the noise beside his ear, the studious colt jerked, the quill dropping from between his gasping teeth. By the time he reopened his eyes, the pink, filmy barrier in front of him had dissipated, along with the sudden shimmering of his horn. Now a foot further than previously, the owner of the voice— a mousy, bespectacled colt— waved at him.

“Sorry about that, Poindexter,” Shining Armor said tersely, craning his little neck down to pick up the quill again. “I’m still busy finishing Buck’s homework, so just leave your worksheet title and question numbers on the notepad and I’ll get around to it…”

“Pfffft!” Gizmo Poindexter bounced in place. “I’m— I’m not about that! I was just asking, you know, if you want to… ermmm…”

“......”

“If you wanna… eat food…”

The quill continued scribbling.

“A-a-ahem!” Poindexter cleared his throat loudly, finally causing Shining to look up again. “We would be very glad,” his voice sped up as it continued, “if you could join us for lunch today!”

Hushed cheering erupted from the far corner of the classroom, where a motley squad of colts tried and failed to not look like they were watching their every interaction.

“By ‘us’, you mean your friends over there?” Shining nodded in their direction.

Poindexter’s eyes slid sideways in brown uneasiness. “Yes.”

“Okay,” Shining said, penning down the last steps of a solution. “What’s the occasion?”

“Occasion?” Poindexter’s tone went higher. His murky white coat seemed to turn an ashen gray. “Ummmm. No occasion. It’s for fun.”

Shining raised an eyebrow. “You don’t look like you’re having much fun.”

“Alright! Fine!” Poindexter hissed. His large glasses slipped down his muzzle as he leaned over to whisper into Shining’s twitching ear. “My- my friends, they want to check out your magic. They think it’s super cool. And me, me too.”

“You…” Shining said slowly. “You guys want to see my magic?”

“Ehhhh,” Poindexter quickly batted a hoof, scratching the back of his head. “Not just your magic, of course. We also think you’re cool. You know, as a pony and everything.” A frazzled grin. “But if you don’t wanna, that’s also cool and all…” He trailed off mid-speech, frantically turning back to look at his friends, at Shining again, to his friends, then back to Shining. “...you okay there, bud?”

Bright blue eyes shone. From behind the stacks of elaborate mathematical workings he clutched, the small unicorn was smiling warmly. Upon the question, his ears folded back, and he nodded ferociously.

“Well,” Poindexter's shoulders sagged in obvious relief. He straightened up, adjusting his glasses once more. “See-you-theeen!” Without missing a beat, the earth pony scurried off like an escaping rat to the corner of the classroom, where his gang welcomed him in open forelimbs. Shining Armor got out of his seat, too, about to trot over when he felt a heavy hoof on his shoulder.

“Armor. My homework?”

Buck Withers— a young colt the same age as them, but with a towering stature that suggested otherwise— really didn’t have to ask. But such was how it worked. Shining’s teeth filed through the papers to drag out the relevant worksheets, while Buck watched with thinly-veiled disgust.

“Haven’t you learned to lift things with your horn yet?” he spat. “I don’t like your mouth touching my stuff.”

Self-consciously, Shining touched his horn. He could still feel the residual heat from the earlier spell lingering at the tip. “Unicorns only learn to levitate things at twelve years old…”

“But you’re supposed to be talented, right?” Buck said, unconvinced. “You’re nine, and you can do a barrier spell!”

“But I can’t control it that well. It’s not precise,” Shining squirmed. “Levitation is very precise… and you have to maintain it for a long time, too.”

“Bah, whatever,” Buck scoffed as he shoved the assignments in his plush-lined bag. Slinging its gold chain around his shoulders, he turned around to exit the classroom door. “Just don’t do that next time.”

“......Noted,” Shining answered. “Just give me a call if you need anything else.”

Buck did not reply. The door shut behind him.

“No, you don’t get it,” Gaffer chattered as he trotted alongside them in the crowded school corridor, gesturing animatedly. “I was this close to getting a new highscore— and then out of nowhere comes a Z piece, and I place it down wrongly, and the whooole game screws up from there.”

Eight Bit rubbed his forehead as he skipped alongside them, occasionally flitting his small black wings to hover momentarily. “That’s why I said you need to watch the little screen at the side which shows you which piece comes up next.”

“But it ruins my concentration!...” Gaffer scrunched his orange muzzle, the cream-colored stripe running down it twisting along with his frown. He waved his hoof smugly. “And I manage to beat your highscore anyway without using all your nifty strategies.”

Eight Bit sighed heavily. “That’s because you got lucky that one time and got like, ten I and T pieces in a row. It doesn’t count.”

“Yes it does.”

“No it doesn’t.”

“Yes it do—”

“Guys,” Poindexter cut in, squeaking, “if you would stop talking about your— riveting, I’m sure— game for a moment and talk to Shining Armor? Since I went through all the trouble to talk to him for you guys!”

“Celestia alive, Dex, it’s no big deal!” Gaffer slapped his shoulder playfully. “Besides, you’re so shy. You need more socializing practice, anyway.”

“Says you!” Poindexter huffed, raising his little chin in defiance. “Both of you are just as socially awkward as me! I only volunteered because you two were so scared of Shining.”

“Mmmmm?” Shining blinked out of his daze. “Scared of what?”

"Well, you can do magic, and you're super smart," Gaffer stated matter-of-factly.

"And you're friends with Buck Withers," said Eight Bit.

"Not to mention incredibly fetching," Poindexter added.

"Huh?" Shining cocked his head.

"Dude, your mane is soooo pretty," Poindexter cooed. "It's like sapphire silk. Or cobalt. Or copper two sulphate crystals, except with keratin."

"Okay, we get it," Eight Bit droned.

"..." Shining paused. "What about Buck Withers?"

"Buck Withers? Isn't his dad the owner of a billion gazillion big corporations? And everypony loves him, even the teachers," Gaffer said. "You're his right-hoof stallion, too. Obviously a group of loners like us would be terrified of you."

"Right-hoof stallion," Eight Bit echoed, licking his lips. "I like the sound of that. It's like Darth Hayder in Star Horse. Can I be your right-hoof stallion, Gaffer?"

"Heeey," Poindexter pouted. "I want to be Darth Hayder."

"You can be Darth Revaneigh."

"Yay… " Poindexter sighed happily. "I'm Darth Revaneigh."

Shining Armor looked from Poindexter’s star-filled eyes, to Gaffer making lightsaber noises while wildly swinging his forelimbs about, and finally at Eight Bit’s tap-tap-tapping away at a Gamecolt that had suddenly appeared in his hooves.

"You guys… are seriously a weird bunch."

Immediately, the group quietened down.

“Oh my Luna,” Gaffer hissed loudly. “Well done Dex, you scared him off on the first day.”

“How’s that supposed to be my fault?” Poindexter hissed back. “Y’all were the ones talking about Tetris in front of the coolest colt in the school!”

“Sorry, I don’t think it would be right to talk about anything but Tetris in front of the coolest colt in school,” Eight Bit said aloud.

“That’s why you have no friends.”

“Wait,” Shining interrupted, blue mane flouncing as he spun about to face them. “You guys were talking about Tetris?”

“Uh huh, yep,” Eight Bit squinted curiously at him. “Why, do you play?”

“Competitively?” Gaffer hissed.

“Not really, I just like playing on my own,” Shining admitted. “...I’ve just never met anypony else who played Tetris as much.”

“Most ponies treat it like a way to pass time, for sure,” Eight Bit yawned, his eyes unmoving from his screen, “like the snake game. If you talk too much about Tetris you get called a geek, so either you keep your reputation in school or your Tetris mates. I choose my Tetris mates.”

“But competitive snake game,” Gaffer hissed again.

“Let Shining try! I wanna see how good he is,” Poindexter grabbed at Eight Bit’s Gamecolt, but the pegasus shoved him off and flew higher, still tapping frenetically. “No, stupid! I’m in the middle of a game!”

“Snnnnkt— heeheheee!”

The group quietened again at the sound of Shining's giggling.

“You all may be really uber weird,” Shining Armor wiped tears from his eyes, chuckling, “but I think you’re mighty interesting, too.” He rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “I think I would like to get to know you more. If you don’t mind, that is.”

“Of course not!” Poindexter broke out into a relieved grin. “Feel free to hang out with us Monday! And Tuesday, and Wednesday, and…”

“I’ll even let you be Darth Steedious,” Gaffer said.

“Who?”

Poindexter choked. “You haven’t watched—”

“Come to my house on Saturday. It is your royal duty.” Eight Bit commanded as he tapped the screen. Suddenly, he sat up, his purple eyes reflecting multiple block shapes. “Oh my Celestia. Help me, I’m this close to a new score. What do I do what do I do what do I do?”

Shining leaned over to look, along with the others. Poindexter gasped in horror. “So many garbage rows. What have you even been doing all this time?”

Eight Bit grinned nervously. “I kind of panicked at one point and started just winging it…”

Gaffer shrugged. “Works for me. Keep winging it, ya nasty pegasus.”

“How about,” Shining began, “you clear the two separated lines with the L piece, and then the square one for the right side… umm… then you pray for an I piece after that.”

There was no I piece after that, but when the set of numbers blinked at the top of the screen, Eight Bit screamed in ecstatic frenzy.

“Eh, still haven’t beaten mine,” Gaffer shrugged.

Amidst the din of chortling jocks and loudly gossiping mares, Shining Armor saw nothing and heard nothing. The young unicorn sat on his haunches on the cafeteria bench, eyes shut in a deep, almost meditative concentration.

Around him, three colts squatted, watching the white tip of his horn glow faintly pink. However, after minutes of intense effort on the part of Shining, it produced nothing more than a few flyaway sparks then faded into the air.

Groaning, Shining Armor deflated in his chair and opened his eyes again, shaking his head apologetically. “Sorry guys, I can’t do this.”

“C’mon, Goonies never say die,” Poindexter said, patting his back encouragingly.

“Do you need more food?” Eight Bit held up a bottle of sparkling cola.

Shining accepted and took a long sip of the sugary drink. Nevertheless, after setting it down, he winced and pressed a hoof to his forehead. “No can do. I already feel a headache coming on. I don’t wanna get sick, even if it’s to show you guys what you wanted to see in the first place.”

“Awww. Well okay then,” Gaffer said, propping himself up on the bench beside Shining. “It’s okay. You’re already way ahead of me.” To demonstrate, he squeezed his eyes shut. Beads of sweat erupted on his orange-white complexion, but his horn remained perfectly as it was before. “See, I can’t even get it to glow!”

“Your strength lies elsewhere, buddy,” Eight Bit pointed at his flank, where the symbol of a die with eight sides was emblazoned. “Gaffer here’s famous for being lucky, which works out to be a pretty awesome cutie mark, if you ask me. It’s how he beat me at Tetris… but only for that one time, of course—”

“‘Cause, Eight Bit is the best at video games,” Gaffer nodded back at the pegasus, who flew into the air and proudly showed off the mark of a blue pixelated Space Invader. “But I am so not just lucky! I work hard, too! I just know how to play my cards right.”

“Mine is a robot,” Poindexter cupped his chin in his hooves, gaze turning dreamy. “I got it when I designed my first one in third grade. I wouldn’t say I’m really skilled at it yet, though. I just really, really like building robots.”

“What about you, Shining?”

“What’s your cutie mark?”

“I bet it’s books… or a quill… or maybe magic?”

“Ummm, actually…” Shining fidgeted, looking down. “I don’t have my cutie mark yet.”

Eight Bit gasped. “No way! You’re still a blank flank? You? Shining Armor?”

Shining pulled his bangs over to hide his gloomy face. “Yeah…”

“That’s crazy,” Gaffer said. “I never noticed. I kinda just assumed you had one, since you’re so… uhh…”

“Talented,” Shining mumbled and gulped down another mouthful of cola. “Right. I’m sure.”

“Don’t worry,” Poindexter wrapped a reassuring hoof around his shoulder, “maybe your cutie mark is just too awesome, so it’s taking its time. Somepony like you would definitely get one soon, and it’ll be even better than all the rest of ours’!”

“Almost all the rest of ours’,” Eight Bit corrected. “You’ll never get a Space Invader as your cutie mark. It’s the sickest cutie mark ever and I already called dibs.”

“Seriously though, it’s weird!” Gaffer frowned. “You’re obviously so much better than everypony else. You’ve got the highest grades in class, and even the teacher said you were absurdly good at magic for your age. How is it possible that you don’t have a cutie mark yet?”

“It’s not even very good magic,” Shining said dejectedly. “It’s totally on and off. I can’t even control when it happens.”

“But there’s a reason why you were chosen as Buck Withers’ right-hoof stallion, right?” Poindexter said. “He trusts you to protect him and stuff. I mean, even if he’s a jerk, it’s gotta count for something.”

“He’s not a jerk,” Shining’s brows furrowed. “He’s my best friend. He said that maybe one day I’ll get my cutie mark protecting him from something big. ‘Cause I don’t know how he does it, but when he yells at me to protect him, something in me just— clicks— and the barrier activates by itself.”

“Ohhhh, so he’s like,” Eight Bit tapped his chin in thought, “your remote control!”

Gaffer leaned back, swallowing a bite of sandwich. “I guess maybe I see why you say Buck Withers is your friend, then. Since you can only use your magic around him.”

“That’s not right,” Poindexter interrupted, raising a musty hoof. "You also activated a barrier the first time I went up to you in class."

"Yeah, like I said, it's totally random," Shining pursed his lips and leaned forward to face the group. “Also, why do you all keep ragging on Buck Withers like that? He might be a little commanding, but he’s a nice pony.”

“Uh huh…” Eight Bit snorted, shaking his drink. “Maybe to you— you’re one of his best friends, after all. To the rest of us, he’s not so sweet, especially to a bunch of losers like us.”

“He’s not even that nice to you, is he, Shining?” Poindexter tilted his head. “I saw you were doing homework for him and his buds just earlier.”

Shining squinted at them, uncomprehending. “But it isn’t bad if I don’t mind. It’s not like they don’t want to do their homework, they just don’t know how to do it.”

“Uh, then you can teach them instead of always doing it for them,” Gaffer said.

Shining’s volume raised involuntarily. “I’m happy to help my friends when they need it!”

An awkward silence steamed between them.

Shining blinked. Then, he shrunk back, and quieter, he added, “They’re also helping me… I need them.”

Eight Bit burped and waved. “Okay, okay, jeez, chill. Nopony’s stopping you from being all buddy-buddy with His Excellency Withers.”

“Maybe tell him to stop calling us names too,” Poindexter trilled, clasping his hooves together. “That, that would be nice.”

“You say that like Shining’s some kind of secretary.”

“He isn’t?”

“No, he’s his right-hoof stallion.”

“Oh. Ohhhhh. Yeah.”

Shining rocked in his seat. “So why exactly did you guys start talking to me, anyway? Because you sure don’t sound like you’re just in it to see my magic.”

At once, they all stopped talking.

“Whoa,” Eight Bit murmured. “Right on the nail.”

“So,” Shining gestured, “what’s this about?”

Gaffer scratched his head, “I know you don’t really know us that well, but we’ve watched you for a long time. Uh, not a ninja surveillance camera cool acrobatic moves way… But…“

“We think that you’re a lot more like us than you’re like Buck,” Eight Bit continued, “which is why we started talkin’ to you.”

“And, we just think you could be a great friend,” Poindexter finished. “You could be Darth Steedious— owwww!” He rubbed his head from the slap Gaffer had given him. “What was that for?”

Shining thinned his eyes. “Are you going to tell me who all these ‘Darth Here, Darth Theres’ are or not?”

“Depends,” Eight Bit lowered his voice in mock mysteriousness, “on if you’re still coming on Saturday.”

In the depths of outer space, backdropped by a pitch black curtain of stars, disjointed lasers flashed forth in quick succession.

WHOOOOSH! Missile-tipped mechanical wings spread in cross-like formation, white starfighters darted between the beams of light, twirling and twisting around sleek black starfighters in a deadly dance.

All the while, a behemoth cruiser, decked out in rows and rows of silver artillery, soared below them, its multiple turrets firing shots after shots at them continually.

“All that firepower and they can’t even aim,” grumbled Eight Bit.

Four colts huddled together on the couch in front of the television, where they had made themselves home with a pile of cushions, duvets, and a large bag of Kale Krispies that Eight Bit had scrounged up from the section of cupboard he was tall enough to reach. The lights were dimmed, and through the part of the stained window uncovered by the drapes, the lightly falling snow outside reflected in the glass panes.

“They are moving pretty fast,” Gaffer pointed out. “Plus they can fly in absolutely every direction. It can’t be easy to swivel the turret in position in time, and you still have to land enough hits to get through the starfighter’s deflector shields. They’re probably on maximum power too, since they don’t have to route much power to offense till they reach the space station…”

Eight Bit stuck out his tongue. “A fully-powered X-wing deflector shield wouldn’t hold up against even one hit from a Star Destroyer’s big gun. It’s accuracy. I bet I could one-shot them if I were there. Also, pass over the chips.”

“Omigosh omigosh omigosh,” tittered Poindexter, head unmoving as he hoofed over the bag. “This is the good part!~”

PEW PEW PEW! More beams rocketed across the adrenaline-rushing scene. The camera zoomed in on a close shot of a helmeted stallion at the controls of a starfighter. Blue eyes squinted through the visor as the pilot’s grip on the joystick tightened, navigating the tiny fighter through a narrow trench while fatal green flashes raced behind, hot on his trail.

The colts were on the edge of their seats. Shining wrapped the fuzzy blanket tighter around his body as his heartbeat accelerated along with the ringing of explosions. On the radar of Darth Hayder’s starfighter, the red outline of the pilot’s X-wing could be seen, and high-pitched bleeping filled the air as the targeting system locked onto it. Darth Hayder pressed two gloved hooves down on the trigger—

“Aaaahhh!” Shining cried involuntarily.

Instantly, his horn flashed, and a dome of pink light materialized around him. Green chips fell out of Eight Bit’s hooves and clattered to the ground as he, Gaffer and Poindexter were pushed aside into a colorful heap against the armrest by the sudden force field. It sputtered out as quickly as it had appeared, but no one was paying attention to the movie anymore. They all crawled over to Shining Armor, eyes as wide as saucers.

“It’s your magic!”

“That was so. Cool.”

“Oh my gosh, do it again, do it again!”

“Uhhh,” Shining sweated, and he closed his eyes again. More sparks flew, but no barrier reappeared. “Welp. Sorry, show’s over.”

“That’s the second time already. There’s got to be a plausible trigger for your barrier spells that isn’t Buck Withers,” Gaffer rolled over and crawled on top of Shining, inspecting his gleaming horn closely. “The first step is to check all the evidence at the scene of crime.”

“Ohhh,” Poindexter rubbed his hooves feverishly. “Like in those mystery novels, where they find the serial killer’s motiveand deduce how the murder went from there?”

“Except that there’s no murder,” Eight Bit said.

“And no serial killer,” Shining Armor bent his head down and scrambled back from Gaffer's inquisitive muzzle.

“Okay, let me just get some paper,” Gaffer tramped around Eight Bit’s living room for a while, rummaging behind the cardboard boxes of clothes and bundles of tangled television wires, before pulling out a flat pizza box. Across it, there was a strip of masking tape with words in marker on it: OGRES & OUBLIETTES, OUR VERSION. He flipped open the box’s lid and took out a small brown notebook with a pen stuck in the binding, which he removed with his teeth.

He flipped the notebook to the back and began scribbling things on the blank pages there. Shining, Poindexter and Eight Bit cramped themselves around him, watching as he wrote. He continued to talk out the side of his mouth:

“The First Incident. Cause of spell, Poindexter talking to Shining Armor. Second Incident. Cause of spell, watching Star Horse.”

“Well, if that doesn’t give us nothing to go off on,” Eight Bit droned. “Just trust the dude. He says that it’s random.”

“Most of the time, it’s still Buck Withers…” Shining insisted.

“We just need to be more specific, and you’ll see,” Poindexter said. “I should think when you put two and two together, based on these three events, the pattern is fairly obvious.”

“Pony-pony interaction?” Gaffer said.

Poindexter pushed his glasses up proudly. “Clearly, Shining Armor’s magic is set off based on shock!”

“Huh???”

“The first time, Shining activated his barrier because I surprised him, while he was concentrating on his homework,” he explained as he held up one hoof, then the other. “The second time, he was scared that Hayder was going to kill Skytrotter. And most of the time…”

“Shining activates it because Buck Wither shouts at him, thus shocking him!” Gaffer finished. “Dammit, I should’ve read that detective series you recommended me.”

“Toooold you,” Poindexter stuck out his tongue.

“The second one doesn’t quite match shock, though…” Shining said. “It’s more like being scared rather than being shocked.”

“You mean you were scared of me too?” Poindexter pointed at himself, grinning dumbly.

“Jeez, you wish,” Eight Bit threw a chip at him.

“It’s just,” Shining shifted, “unicorn magic isn’t that simple. There isn’t one specific cause for unleashing magic, especially at our age when most foals aren’t even supposed to have proper access to magic yet.”

“You think emotions are still connected to unicorn magic somehow?” Poindexter asked.

“It for sure affects it,” Gaffer said. “Not that I would know, but watching my Ma when she gets angry… hooooboy. Her magic is not as calm and harmless as Shining’s barrier spells.”

“It makes sense,” Shining Armor voiced his thoughts aloud. “A barrier is for defense from danger, so when I get scared of the dangerous thing, the barrier would activate to block whatever danger is coming at me.”

“Or whatever danger you think is coming at you,” Poindexter added, gesturing at the television, which was by now playing the end credits. “‘Cause Hayder for sure wasn’t shooting at you.”

“That’s why it lasts so short too, because when you’re not scared anymore it shuts down?” Gaffer suggested.

“Or I’m just too weak to hold it up,” Shining slumped. Then something fell on his head. “Ack!-” He tilted his neck sideways, and an oily fragment of dehydrated vegetable slid from his mane to the floor.

“No barrier,” Eight Bit scooped up the fallen chip and tossed it into his mouth. “So not shock, or surprise. I’d want to test out the fear theory, but I don’t really wanna scare you.”

Gaffer snickered. “What are you gonna do anyway, throw your Gamecolt at him?”

“I think he’d be more frightened for the Gamecolt.”

“Like you can do any better! Bleh bleh bleh!”

Shining Armor coughed and held up a hoof. Poindexter ceased his high-pitched cackling. Gaffer paused his stealthy hoof making a beeline for the chips. Eight Bit stopped in the middle of smashing Gaffer and Poindexter’s heads in with a cushion.

“I’m going to talk to Buck Withers tomorrow,” Shining Armor said, sweeping the room over with his piercing blue gaze. “If he really turns out to not be the key to my barrier spells… we will find out what is it that makes my magic tick.”

“Nice, champ!”

“Woooohoo!”

“Oh my Celestia…” Poindexter swooned. “This is it… the power of Emperor Pasturetine!...”

The cushion walloped him in the face. Four colts laughed into the wintry night.

“Gear, check!”

“Weapons, check!”

“Armor…” Poindexter winked as he tapped Shining’s shoulder. “Check!”

“I bet you’ve just been waiting all week to make that pun,” Gaffer deadpanned, pulling a knight’s helmet over his own head. It was fashioned out of cardboard, covered with a layer of gleaming aluminum foil, and only his green eyes were visible from a rectangular hole crudely sheared in the middle. A giant, red mohawk stuck out from its top, the feathers sticking out in several wild places, held in place by dried glue.

“Why are you getting the knight’s helmet then?” Eight Bit asked as he brandished his twin cardboard swords, making various dramatic poses. His forehead was encircled in a tattered bandana with a skull motif on the front, and his forelimb wrapped in cotton bandages 'slashed' in several places.

“Because I made it, so I get to wear it,” Gaffer folded his forelimbs and huffed.

“Shining can be the king,” Poindexter balanced a bright yellow cardboard crown on the unicorn’s blue mane. “I even glued our sapphire rhinestones on it~”

“What are you wearing, Dex?”

“Me?” Poindexter sashayed about, allowing the tresses of his green elf skirts to fold upon themselves. He lifted his chin and spoke in a thick, warbling accent. “Why, my Lejandar Gygax cosplay, of course! I want to look my very best for this battle!”

“It’s all well and good within the clubroom…” Gaffer shifted about uneasily, “but are you sure you want to wear that in front of the school?”

“Uh huh huh…” Poindexter batted his non-existent eyelashes. “Why, do you not find me incredibly captivating in this dress?”

“Uhhhhhhhh…”

“Guys, I’m just talking to Buck Withers, not battling him,” Shining Armor sighed, taking off the overly-big crown and the felt ‘robes’ from his back. “Plus, I really don’t want to be a laughing stock in front of the entire school.”

Eight Bit paused mid-parry. “Right. One of us here still has a reputation. Forgot about that.”

"Aww…" Poindexter shuffled and stepped out of his costume, leaving just a checkered bow tie on. "Alright then. Thatta better?"

"I'll leave behind my Katanas of Light and just bring my Dagger of Deadly Darkness," Eight Bit propped the twin swords against a dusty shelf and drew out a small, knife-shaped cardboard cutout, painted in black and silver. "For… tactical emergencies." He posed, the dagger obscuring one half of his face.

"You should've told me earlier!" pouted Gaffer, scribbling furiously once more in his O&O notebook. "I'm our team strategist!..."

"And I'm… " Shining looked around at them. "The leader?"

"Ayup."

"That's right!~"

"Absolutely!"

"Heeheeee… I can deal with that!" Shining Armor giggled and swept his blue bangs back. He clambered onto the table and pointed at the door. "Then as your leader, I command that we all leave at once. No more dilly-dallying!"

"To the courtyard, with haste!" hollered Gaffer. And with a cheer, they burst out of the clubroom. The corridor was bustling with passing students that gave them strange looks, but they raced on nevertheless, eyes fixed ahead.

"Buck Withers should be somewhere near the buckball court," Shining said as he galloped through the hallway, the others following close behind. "He plays sometimes, but most of the time he just eats lunch there."

"Whoa… do you eat lunch with Buck Withers?"

"No… I just bring him lunch everyday."

Gaffer blinked. "You don't eat with him?"

"Too busy doing homework," Shining said. Then, he quickly added, "But I don't mind! I prefer eating alone, anyhow." He looked up, and his white hooves skidded to a stop on the snow-covered tarmac ground. Now that they were outside of the school building, the afternoon sunlight scorched the backs of the four colts as they continued their march, barely shaded by the scant leaves the trees planted along the sidewalk still had. Shining was beginning to marvel at the clear hoofprints he was stamping into the snow until his ears twitched.

“Hahaha… look, it’s the nerdy losers again.”

Whispering voices.

“Ugh, I wish they’d just stay in their clubroom all day. Seeing their ugly muzzles makes me wanna puke.”

Now unmuddled in the noisy corridor, words drifted past them in the blustering wind.

“Bunch of dorks. Look at the way that one walks all weird, like some kind of disabled penguin. And the other one, I saw him cry in class the other day… they’re all better off in an asylum than in school.”

“Hahaha!”

The spite-filled comments came crashing one after the other, their poisoned tips like a rain of arrows puncturing the atmosphere. Shining grimaced and glanced back. Eight Bit was fiddling with his dagger. Gaffer looked to the side. Poindexter wiped his sweaty brow.

“Most importantly,” the voices spoke, “why is Shining Armor with them?”

A shudder. The thundering pace of clops beneath him slowed, despite Poindexter nudging him to move on.

“No way. Somepony like Shining Armor shouldn’t get their geekly stench on his coat. Did you see how pure and white it is?”

“Shame that he’s always buried in his books… haaaah, he’s sooo cute…”

“Why is he hanging out with them and not us, anywayzzz?” A coy giggle, and the brushing of curled bangs. “We’re so much cooler than them.”

At last, Shining’s hooves grinded to a halt. Whirling around, he shot the group of students a glare. “Hey, cut it out. Why are you guys so mean?”

“It’s no use, Shining,” Eight Bit grunted below his breath, but it was too late. The students’ attention was already locked on the unicorn.

“What’s that?” A lemon-yellow filly put a hoof to her mouth. “Are you talking to us?”

“Yes, I’m talking to you,” Shining ignored Poindexter’s whimpering beside him and strode up to them. “It’s not nice to talk about other ponies like that, so quit it.”

A second, red-maned filly laughed delicately, as if he had just told a particularly funny joke. “Oh, what. You’re sticking up for these losers? I’m surprised Buck Withers is letting you hang around them.”

Shining hesitated, a sudden, cold tremble running down his spine. Just as he was finding the words to speak again, Gaffer stepped up and bravely pointed his notebook pen at them like a sword.

“Buck doesn’t control what Shining Armor does.” His orange-and-cream muzzle scrunched in fury. “We have the data to back it up!”

“What data, you idiot?” Eight Bit rose up, too, raising the blade of the Dagger of Deadly Darkness at them. “Anyway, you mess with our leader, you mess with us!”

“Uhuh,” Poindexter hiccuped and awkwardly adjusted his bow tie. “Yeah, what they, they said!”

The four colts stood stock still in the middle of the playground, muzzles twisting, as if trying their best to look threatening— as threatening as they could look pointing a cardboard dagger and pen at a group of fillies in the middle of a playground. It didn’t work, and they started cackling in unison.

“Oh my Celestia, that is the geekiest manure I’ve seen in my entire life!”

“Get a load of that!” one wheezed. “Are they even for real?”

“Umm, it’s alright, girls…” The tall, quiet pink filly sitting behind them pipped up meekly. “They haven’t done anything wrong to us, so we should just leave them alone…”

“Ohhh shut up,” somepony rolled her eyes and nudged her side. “It’s always you. Can’t you ever take a joke?”

The tall filly drooped. For a brief moment, her purple eyes met Shining’s blue ones, before she looked down to her food, tri-colored hair hiding her face, and said nothing more.

“Whatever,” Shining glanced away and resolutely turned toward the buckball court. “Let’s just go look for Buck… now…”

Hoofsteps resounded against the pavement.

Shining froze, ears twitching along with the pattern echoing towards them.

And then…

A cold shadow fell over him.

His gaze traveled up slowly. In front of him, a familiar, hulking purple frame stood, a displeased scowl written across his muzzle. Buck Withers towered over him, eyes nearly flaming in green irritation.

Shining was suddenly finding it very difficult to look up. He began to back away, but he might as well have been moving on four blocks of solid ice.

“There you are, Armor,” Buck spoke, his words slicing, “I’ve been looking all over the place for you. Where is our lunch? And why are you…” His gaze flickered to the colts standing around him. “...with these ponies?”

Shining tried to speak, but his throat clammed up. Whatever confidence he had before buckled under the icy stare of Buck Withers, a wall flimsy to begin with now crumbling into ash. Tortuous seconds oozed by, but just as Shining was about to sink into his sweat, a black pegasus thumped to the ground loudly by his side.

“Well, speak of the devil,” Tiny wings still buzzing, Eight Bit spat out the side of his mouth and leveled his dagger at the new target. “Mister Withers, you are under arrest!”

“Arrest?” Buck raised his eyebrows. “For what?”

“For high treason!” Poindexter squeaked. “...I don’t actually know what that means.”

"You don't have to try and escape, Withers," Gaffer adjusted imaginary glasses and flipped through his notebook. "I have no less than twenty contingency plans to defeat you! Attack formation alpha!"

Buck Withers looked between the three colts that had just surrounded him. At first, he looked like he was in an utter state of confusion, but soon, a realization or other seemed to dawn upon him. Veins bulging, he spun hotly and faced Shining, now completely enraged. "You don't tell me… you went and made friends with them??!"

"Yeah, so?" Eight Bit shook his dagger at him viscerally. "He can! You're a jerk friend!"

"No, I… " Shining's throat was dry. "I don't know… "

“Watch out!” Suddenly, a horrified cry came from behind them. Shining looked up to see a ball in the sky hurtling toward Buck at a blurring velocity. Something snapped, and Shining's horn flashed—

A square of shimmering pink barrier formed in front of the ball just as it was about to hit Buck. The ball impacted it, and bounced off harmlessly.

Buck seemed to relax. The scowl on his face was now replaced by a smug, easy smile.

"Good job, Armor," he praised loudly. "I knew you wouldn't abandon your friend."

Shining's cheeks burned. And yet, as his eyes swam towards three blurry figures, he couldn't bring himself to move an inch.

"Attack formation delta," he faintly heard Gaffer call out.

Then the figures moved in wonky synchrony. A black one, in his wing-propelled, energized hops. A murky white one prancing and tottering all at once. An orange and cream one trotting calmly and decisively.

They all came to stand by his side, and they turned to face Buck Withers together.

"Whatever happens… whatever you choose, we will fight for you," Gaffer whispered into his ear. "But we came here with a theory to test, didn't we?"

Poindexter murmured next. "A fair experiment must have a control set-up. So let's change the independent variable!..."

Eight Bit sighed audibly, then added. "Basically, what they're saying is: don't be scared, and see if you can still maintain the spell. Got it?"

Shining fought the trembling in his legs and gulped. "G-got it."

"Well??!" Buck Withers demanded, striding forward. "What are you losers whispering among yourselves for? Make up your mind already, Armor. Is it me? Or is it them?"

Shining took a deep, shuddering breath. In his periphery, he could see the colts nodding at him encouragingly, Poindexter offering him a buck-toothed grin.

Closing his eyes, he reached out, mentally, into the tingling air. He could feel the frost lingering there, each chilling drop suspended in the stillness. The sun was still ever bright, blazing against the back of his eyelids. He thought of his new friends, and plucked their smiles like errant wildflowers in a snowy outcropping— blending and weaving them together in his mind to form a soft blanket that draped carefully around his shoulders. Here, swathed within this warm, silky cocoon, he felt safe… almost like he could curl up right here and fall asleep without a worry in the world.

The sound of his heart thumping in his ears slowed.

He was safe.

Even as he could hear Buck’s advancing pace toward them pick up, that seemed distant, too.

When he reopened his eyes, the sounds and sights of the world around him came rushing back into focus— bewildered grunts, flabbergasted gawking, and delighted gasps. His horn was positively aflame. And around him, Poindexter, Eight Bit and Gaffer, a veritable waterfall of pink, shimmering magic had formed an impenetrable wall between them and everypony else.

Buck Withers' nostrils flared, but he seemed unfazed, continuing his march until he was nearly nose-to-nose with Shining. Sneering, he squinted through the barrier and said, "Well done, Armor. But let's see how long that can last."

A second passed. Five seconds passed. Then thirty.

Buck's eyes grew wider and wider.

"I'm glad to be able to serve as your armor, Buck," Shining said evenly. "I don't want anypony to get hurt. But even though I've only known them for a day, they've made me feel like I'm more than just that— like I'm a true friend. And that's why… I'm going to protect them, now."

Suddenly, a blinding white light exploded from behind him, forcing Buck Withers a few staggering steps back. Shining squinted at him in confusion, before noticing that everypony in the vicinity had their eyes fixed on him— or more specifically, the back of him.

Immediately, he swiveled his head behind to peek at his flank. True enough, bands of bright white light were leaping from there, shapes coalescing into the visible form of a dark blue shield. Within the shield, a pink star resided, its tips touching the edges as if holding it up. Above it, blue stars tipped the shield— exactly three of them.

“Well,” Gaffer pretended to check his notebook, slowly grinning. “It looks like our mission is accomplished!”

Eight Bit chuckled wryly. "Heh, for a second there I thought I'd have to surrender my dagger."

“No one wants your dagger, idiot.”

“True.”

"Yeeeeeehaa!" Poindexter just about jumped on him, clinging to him in a firm hug. Then, his pale brown eyes flicked about nervously, his voice lowering to a stuttering whisper. “Can we please go back now? Too many ponieslookingatmeeeeee.”

“Seriously? Shining here just got his cutie mark and that’s all you’re thinking about?” Eight Bit scoffed, suddenly turning to Shining with seriousness, forelimbs outstretched. “Giddy up, folks. We’re about to give our hero the Victory Lift!”

“Ehhh?” Shining said, confused. “What victory lift— whoaaaa!”

Shining yelped as Gaffer, Poindexter and Eight Bit gathered around him and heaved the unicorn onto their shoulders with a unified, triumphant victory screech. He flailed in embarrassment.

“Waaaait,” he protested, covering his face. “At least lemme power down the barrier first.” He lowered his head and released his concentration on the spell, allowing the walls of the barrier to draw upwards like a curtain instead of sparking out of existence like it usually did. Once he was done, the quartet moved again swiftly, cheers abound, as they tromped onto the snow-covered pathway. When the group of fillies and Buck Withers continued staring at them. Gaffer shooed at them like he was an usher at a theatre.

"Show's over, folks! Go hooome!"

“You!... You!...” Buck spluttered, his face turning purpler by the second as he momentarily grasped at the air for words. “You can’t just leave like that, Armor!"

Shining glanced back. Buck Withers was still ever a hulking figure, but here in the snowy courtyard, he looked very small.

The latter sucked in a breath— puffing out his chest pathetically. He continued, “You know what’s in store for you if you quit, don’t ya? I’ll make your life a living hell. You’ll be an outcast along with the rest of them!”

Shining heard all this. He had heard it all before. And he knew, clearly in his heart and mind, that this wouldn’t be the last time he would have to face Buck Withers.

But for the first time, he wasn’t scared.

So he smiled instead.

“Bring it on.”

Author's Note

Additional Notes