//-------------------------------------------------------// A Streetmare Named Desire -by Fat_Zack- //-------------------------------------------------------// //-------------------------------------------------------// Anarchistic Beginnings //-------------------------------------------------------// Anarchistic Beginnings It had been a month since the Royal Wedding of Shining Armor and Princess Cadence; and Scootaloo, along with the other two fillies that made up the Cutie Mark Crusaders had already resumed their lives of studying, fun, and cutie-mark crusading. And though the memory of her frivolous position as one of the flower girls had left her memory swiftly, something about the wedding had stuck with the orange-coated pegasus filly since then. The amount of media attention and bits that was put into holding that wedding was troubling to her. She hadn't even considered it before, but now she found herself thinking things; such as, 'Why did they get so much attention?', 'Why do the royals deserve a better, bigger wedding than the rest of us ponies? Why are Alicorns at a higher class than the regular pony? Because they have wings and a horn?' And it didn't stop there either. No matter what, there always seemed to be a big event happening every so often in either Canterlot or Ponyville in which a lot of bits are being put into hosting. And since she has seen that none of the money goes to businesses in the towns that run the events, or to the ponies that work for the event. So it has to go somewhere, she thought.All of the royals and their associates seem to have an everlasting cash flow, even though they barely regulate trade and commerce. Nor do they draft many laws or collect a large amount of taxes. So there must be only one place that money must go. The money must go to the wallets of the Royals. Which is so uncool, she thought. Shouldn't the money go to ponies that are without a home or are starving someplace across Equestria? She knew the problem wasn't urgent, as there weren't many homeless ponies Ponyville, but that doesn't mean that the Royals couldn't solve the problem extremely easily. Scootaloo had always had a suspicion of the wealthy while growing into a filly, as she grew up in a foster home in Cloudsdale, her mother dead from birth complications and her father from a flying accident. She didn't have much growing up, and din't really fit in with other ponies for her brashness. She was also rebellious, which is one of the reasons why she joined the cutie mark crusaders. She wanted to separate herself from the majority of ponies who already had their cutie marks because she knew that everypony with a cutie mark has signed their metaphorical conformation to be the way Society wanted them to behave. The very same society which led her to be bullied into switching schools and towns from Cloudsdale to Ponyville. The same society where shrewd business-ponies can rise to the top while the good, small business owners barely scrape by. The same society where you get a mark on your flank that dictates what you will do for the rest of your life.In truth she still wanted her cutie mark to an unhealthy degree, but if she got it in something she didn't want to do, she knew that she would do something else to suit her liking, despite what most ponies would say otherwise. But these feelings would mean nothing for her without a source of inspiration. She wouldn't try to voice her complaints to the open public had it not been for that one colt who opened her eyes. She was on the other hoof, edging the borders of punk. She had recently become infatuated with the band Neighvana at her Ms, Cherilee's recommendation. Also she had dug up some old records at Twilight Sparkle's library of ponies who stood against injustice in the past and she wanted to be more like them. Yet... The colt that she didn't know she would meet the very next day would act as a catalyst to spark the reaction of punk inside the little filly. And unbeknownst to anypony, it would change her whole life. The bell signaling for class to start clanged throughout the small wooden schoolhouse, beckoning the young, playing equines in from the schoolyard. It was a brisk Autumn morning in Ponyville, a meager two weeks after the annual school year started for fillies and colts. The routine was hard to get back into after a summer of fun, but most managed. Three particular friends by the names of Sweetie Belle, Applebloom, and Scootaloo had to hurry to school though, as they woke up late from a sleepover at Applebloom's farm. "I told you that roosters aren't as reliable as alarm clocks!' Shouted Sweetie Belle, galloping alongside Applebloom and Scootaloo. "How was ah supposed tah know Rooster Rick would take his vacation a week early?" Applebloom huffed out between breaths at the white unicorn. "Oh i dunno, because you LIVE with him?" Scootaloo offered, rolling her eyes whilst speeding along. Applebloom grumbled as the three sped through the schoolyard, kicking up dirt as they clopped on by. Sweetie Belle stuck her left front hoof in the way of the closing schoolroom door, belting "We're here!" with a voice crack as a confused Ms. Cherilee looked down at the disturbance. She chuckled and pleasantly said, "Please take your seats girls." All three stuck their heads in the door in a vertical line and sighed with relief as they slowly trotted to their desks through the newly reopened door, winded by their efforts. Ms. Cherilee also trotted to her desk and sat. "Today class, as you may have guessed, we have a new student! Would you like to come to the front of the class and tell us your name, please?" Ms. Cherilee asked. Scootaloo heard a huff from the right of her and noticed a new colt, who was pushing his seat out and trotting to the front of the room. He was a pegasus with a dark gray coat, and a blue and black spiky mane, some strands of it falling in his face. She noticed he had his cutie mark already; a red circle with an A in the middle of it of the same color. She had seen the symbol in bathroom stalls before, but never paid much mind to it. She wondered what it signified as he faced the class with a look on his face of genuine indifference, as he cleared his voice. "Sup, i'm Jaxx." he said with a gruff voice. "Everypony, say hello to your new classmate, Jaxx!" Ms. Cherilee requested cheerily. "Hello Jaxx," the class greeted in different tones, ranging from bored to cheery. All greeted but Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon who her checking their appearances in tiny make-up mirrors. "Would you like to tell the class where you're from Jaxx?" Cherilee asked. "Sure, I'm from Las Pegasus, the city of Angels. Any more questions?" Jaxx answered, blatantly adding a bit of malice with last comment. Slightly miffed, Ms. Cherilee answered with a no, and informed Jaxx that he could take his seat again. To which, he sneered and cantered to his seat. Scootaloo looked to her left at Applebloom, both had their mouths agape in awe of the rudeness Jaxx was displaying. Scootaloo glared at the colt to her right. She reminded him of the extremely rude colts and fillies that tortured her in Cloudsdale. She told herself that she would NOT allow anyone to be treated the way she was treated before, even a teacher. She was fuming most of the class and did not pay attention much to the lessons of arithmetic or history. When the lunch bell rang, she broke from her stupor and walked with Applebloom and Sweetie Belle to their usual table to eat. The table was occupied however, by the now infamous (To Scootaloo at least) Jaxx, munching away at his lunch. "Uhh...Maybe we should find another table," Sweetie Belle offered weakly, backing up. "Ah like that idea," Applebloom agreed, nodding while looking over to gauge Scootaloo's response. "No." Scootaloo said coldy and simply. "I am going to have a talk with this...this...Rudey-Mc-Rudepants!" She fumed out. She had been letting anger fester inside of her, which is not healthy, as that anger has to come out somewhere. In this case, it was directed right at Jaxx. //-------------------------------------------------------// A New Way of Thinking //-------------------------------------------------------// A New Way of Thinking "Hey, Jaxx!" Scootaloo remarked before forcefully slamming her hoof on the table; causing Jaxx to look up slowly from his gelatinous food stuffs. He looked up with cold, dark-red eyes at the glowering orange filly in front of him. Applebloom and Sweetie Belle shuffled back from the oncoming scene, not wanting to be too involved. "Yeah?" he responded monotonically,slightly moving one of his bangs from his eyes to see his assaulter. "Who the hay do you think you are talking to Ms. Cherilee like that?" Scootaloo demanded, fire in her eyes. "I think that I'm Jaxx, who else would I be?" He smirked nonchalantly. "ARRGH! You know what I mean, why did you act like that to Ms. Cherilee? She's your teacher!" "Why wouldn't I act the way I usually act around teachers? I have to act differently around her because I'm new here and want to set a good first impression?" "Well...Yeah. You should respect your superiors and you shouldn't be so rude to them." Jaxx chuckled and opened his front hooves wide with a smile, "Why?" Scootaloo was stunned. Why? Because it was what you were supposed to do. You weren't supposed to act like that to authority figures, right? It was a customary standard to not question authority, to treat them with respect at a higher rate than you would give your equal. Yet, there a was a nagging pull in the back of her mind telling her, 'He makes a good point.' This is the same voice that's been pestering her since the Royal Wedding, keeping her thinking. So she sat there in silence for a few moments, wanting badly to wipe the smug smirk off of Jaxx's muzzle. But she couldn't. So she gave him the simplest answer she could, "Because....Because, it's what everypony does. It doesn't make sense to do what nopony else does!" Jaxx shook his head sadly, "You don't get it do you? It makes perfect sense. Do you see how oblivious other ponies are?" He gestured out to the other fillies and colts with his fore-hooves spread wide. "Ponies live out their daily lives without thinking or acting out of place. They let the big stallions and mares up in Canterlot think for them. Who needs to think when Celestia will for you, right? These ponies, they fall into ruts of the same, year after year; decade after decade. They are only distinguished differently by coat and cutie mark. Not by action nor speech. I choose to speak out, I don't want to be a mindless drone amongst the masses. I have no idea why you would either." Several moments of silence passed. By now, Applebloom and Sweetie Belle had returned to her friend, providing nothing but emotional support with their presence and scowls. Scootaloo appreciated their presence but she felt ashamed that she was starting to lose the debate and think in his way. Her rebellious spirit was urging her to consider his view. So she took a second to ponder the thinking pattern he was demonstrating. Question Authority? But the Ponies in charge of us know what's best for us. Well...That's what we've been taught at least. By who? Authority figures themselves. So one should question authority. It's not right to follow blindly, even when it's easier to. Authority figures can lie, they can keep secrets. Just like Princess Celestia kept the Changeling Infestation a secret. She knew she was just trying to protect her subjects, but is knowledge always the price for safety? Couldn't ponies think for themselves and come up with a better solution for problems than what ONE pony could? She hated to admit to herself, and she'd hate it even more to admit it to Jaxx, but she was starting to agree with his way of thinking. She noticed Jaxx staring intently at her, and Sweetie Belle nudged her to say something to her adversary. So she leveled with him, "Alright, i can kinda see what you're saying." She saw exactly what he was saying. "But you can question authority without being a stupid-head about it. You could try being NICE to the figures so you don't come out as a bully." Jaxx sat silent a moment before answering with a chuckle, "Ya know what? I like ya kid. You've got a wild, stubborn spirit. You just have to use it the right way..." He stood and left the seat, while maintaining eye contact with Scootaloo, to find other refuge. Applebloom stuck her tongue out at him as he walked away and Sweetie Belle made faces in his direction. When he was out of earshot, Sweetie Belle commented, "What a creep! At least we got our spot back." "Yeah... A creep..." Scootaloo mumbled, watching the strange colt walk amongst the crowds as she resumed her lunch with her friends. * * * * * * * "Hey Rainbow Dash!" School had ended about an hour ago and she bid farewell to her friends before her long walk to the foster home. Her scooter had a broken wheel, so while it was being repaired, she was forced to walk to and from school. She was glad to see her hero on her walk home, she has been lonely on the walks. She slowed her trot as Rainbow swooped down to greet her. "Oh, hey Squirt. How was school," she asked, landing beside her and giving her a mock-noogie with her hoof. Scootaloo giggled before replying, "It was...okay. There was a new colt at school today named Jaxx." "Huh, what's he like?" Rainbow asked, ever half-interested in her number one fan's life. "He's...Different. In personality and appearance. He's got a gray coat with a spiky black and blue mane with a weird symbol for a cutie mark. He disrespected Ms. Cherilee and when Applebloom, Sweetie Belle, and I talked to him about it he tried to defend his actions." "Wow," Rainbow's eyes widened. "That doesn't sound good. Ugh, what was the symbol on his cutie mark?" "Well, it was an A with a circle around it." Rainbow Dash shook her head in a way that Scootaloo had deduced that she'd pieced something together. "That's the symbol for Anarchy, i saw it a lot when i was a little filly in Junior Speedster Flight Camp. That symbol on his flank can only mean one thing...Jaxx is a punk." Scootaloo scratched her head and asked, "What's a punk?" Rainbow thought how to explain it, "Well, a punk is somepony who listens to punk music, wears punk clothes, who thinks like Jaxx does," "Could you explain it a little more vaguely?" Scootaloo asked sarcastically. "Alright kid, hold your horse-feathers. It's a very specific way of living and thinking. Punks think that the government shouldn't keep secrets or lie to ponies, and they fight against corrupt politicians and laws. Punks don't like government in other words. They do like fast music though, with tons of guitar, drums, bass, and vocals; unlike that prissy poppy Sapphire Shores and other singers like that. I personally love that stuff, but i usually like the punk that isn't about politics. Bands like Baaaad Religion, Black Banner, The Sex Cannons, The Canterlot Rejects, and Bitwise are some good punk bands. Also they like wearing leather and studs and trashy clothing, and they like spiky manes and Mohawks like the Royal Guards, ya know, without the helmets. I remember being punk when i was around your age, back when we had a lot more to protest. It's good to see there's a few punk ponies left." Rainbow Dash smirked after her reminiscence. Scootaloo was left stunned. Rainbow Dash had been like Jaxx is now? Rainbow Dash was a punk? And look how awesome she turned out to be! And the clothing of leather and studs sounded quite alluring to her, much more than a dress or a tiara ever would. Maybe she could give this a chance. Maybe it's the way she wants to be. And maybe, just maybe, it will yield to her getting her cutie mark.Scootaloo's entire mindset had changed in so little of a time, but to her it felt like an enlightenment! Scootaloo thanked Rainbow Dash for the talk, and headed to the music store in town to find vinyl records of punk before she headed home. //-------------------------------------------------------// The Transformation //-------------------------------------------------------// The Transformation The squeaky door Of "Vinyl's Vinyls" record shop opened with a clinking of the bell, signifying that a customer was entering. Scootaloo had her bitpurse in her saddlebag from school. She had saved up a lot of bits to repair her banged-up scooter and had a little surplus, and you know what money does to your pockets. She glanced over the store with much interest in her eyes; she took in the scents of the vinyl, the sight of different colored record covers in their multi-hued milk crates, the sound of DJ PON-3 scratching blank records in the back, waiting for customers to buy something; she loved it all already. She perused the shop with feigned interest at all of the records, concealing the fact that she didn't know where the punk albums were. She went down the genres; Alternative, Blues, Classical (Her view of these records crowded by a mare with a musical note for her cutie mark), Dubstep (which had it's own section to itself), Electronica, Grunge, Light rock, Rock, Pop, Punk, Rap... She paused a moment. PUNK! She had found her destined section, but she was disappointed to find that it only spanned a milk crate and a half, while most other sections had five or six crates. She figured it was because of the massive twelve crates of Dubstep crowding the store that punk was so little at the time, but she wondered to herself if the music was as good as Rainbow Dash made it sound. It could be possible that many ponies didn't like punk because maybe it was bad music...Or maybe it sold so many records that they didn't have that many left. Either way, she still HAD to give it a try. She decided to rifle through the contents of the one and a half crates, finding a record by Baaaad Religion called "Suffers", depicting a pony standing on fire, looking at her normal street. She thought it was weird, as the symbolism didn't sink in. She picked up the vinyl with her teeth, setting it on her back as she looked for more. She found an album by the Rampones, the cover art of the record showcasing the four stallions that made up the band leaning up against a wall in black and white, all wearing the same clothing, yet they didn't look like a boy band.The album didn't have a name on it, so she guessed it was a self-titled album. It was interesting, and she thought the stallions weren't that bad looking, so she snagged it and threw it with the other record. She delved further and flipped through many albums that didn't catch her eye until she came upon a record from a band with a blasphemous name, The Dead Princesses. The album's name was "Give me choices or Give Me Cake". Scoots wondered if that was a jibe to Princess Celestia's cake obsession she wrote about as Gabby Gums, but dropped the thought and looked at the art on it. It showed a pony's floating head with barbed wire over it's smile, wrapping around it's face. The background showed a barren, broken street of Canterlot. It was an eerie album, but she decided to buy it anyways, to get a feel of the extremities of punk. She reached the end of the first crate when she pulled the record out, so she looked ahead at the half-crate. Nothing interested her of the ten or so there but the last album, a record by the Everfree Misfits. This album, "Famous Creatures", showed the band looking menacingly at the viewer in full Nightmare Night costumes and makeup. But there was something weird about these costumes, Scootaloo thought; they look a lot scarier than the regular ones ponies wear. And their manes were weirder than buck, too! Two of the band-mates had their manes pointed to a spike and falling over their faces like a ridiculously thin ponytail, but in the front. The overall creepiness of the ponies made her want to buy the album for some strange reason. She placed it back with the others and trotted briskly to the counter where Vinyl Scratch sat, snoozing on the job. She quietly placed the records on the counter and cleared her throat to rouse the sleeping disk jockey that served as the check-out pony. As she did not stir Scootaloo cleared her throat again, but louder. Failing this, she bellowed, "Wake UP!!" She woke up with a start," Hummina Whuh?" she asked blearily, rubbing her eyes open with her hooves. "Oh, Scootaloo, hey kid. Whatcha buying?" Scootaloo pointed out the albums on the counter, "Uh, just these," she said, returning to her regular demeanor. "Aaaaalirght, Scootaloo, nice choices..." She bounded, pulling up her sunglasses while scanning Scoots' selected items with her Red eyes. "Hey, you know we have a deal today on first-time buyers, right? " Scootaloo shook her head no in response, so Vinyl smiled and said, "Well good news for you, we got this deal going on today, and only today. If you buy three records, you get one free!" Scootaloo quickly counted the records she had and gave a mini-squee in her head. 'I have four, today is my lucky day!' She spouted, "So i get a free one? Alright!" Vinyl chuckled as she looked at the prices on the three records that she'd have to pay for, and she told Scoots the price of 12 bits. She pooled out half of her saved up bits and gave the DJ pony her fare for music. Scootaloo left the establishment with a bag in her mouth, a smile in her face, and hope in her head. It had been two hours since Scootaloo had gotten to her foster home, she greeted all of the fillies and colts that lived with her, and busily completed her homework while waiting for her turn to use the record player. The two older colts, whom she despised, usually hogged it with their rap music. She thought that it was a good thing that they were nearly adult stallions and would have to leave, and she cursed Celestia that they were twins. She absent-mindedly started doing her arithmetic homework, solving simple equations while trying to keep her eyes off of the clock. Finally, curiosity got the better of her. She looked up at the wall and saw that it was 6:29 PM. Come on, she thought. Just one...more...minute... Tick, Tock. Tick, Tock. Tick, Tock...Bing Bong! The clock had finally chimed for 6:30! Scootaloo closed her book and rushed downstairs. After many disgruntled complaints an, "Just one more minute!"-s from the twins, she had the record player all to herself and away from the rap-lovers. She had set the records out underneath the record player's table, and she pulled them from their spot. She considered each of them thoughtfully and decided to start out with the Rampones record. She slid it out of it's sleeve and placed it gently in the contraption. She adjusted the needle and sat down in front of the record player expectantly. The first sharp chords came up, and Scootaloo closed her eyes and was whisked away by the first song Blitzkrieg Boop. Her mind was in a whole other place, taken away by the music. She rocked her head with the music and by the second verse she started singing along with them, "I! Oh! Let's go!" She was disappointed that the song had to end, but she listened to the rest of the album and got a few more songs to like. She was surprised that by the time she had gotten done listening to both sides, only 30 minutes have passed. She only had her turn on the record player for another half hour, so she had to make a decision on what to listen to. The Dead Princesses or Baaaad Religion? She chose Baaaad Religion. She popped in Suffers and sat back down. This band was a lot faster and the singer had a rougher voice, and to her it sounded awesome. She could tell by the lyrics that this band was into politics, because they were always referencing how nopony sees the corrupt side of Equestria, and that life is worse here than it seems. She especially liked the song "1000 More Foals". She was about three quarters of the way done with the album when her turn ended and it was time for dinner. Her first act of rebellion was ignoring the dinner bell and listening to the rest of the album. * * * * * A day had passed, nothing unusual had happened; Scootaloo told Sweetie Belle and Applebloom about the music she was listening to and they gave her funny looks but that usually happened when she brought up weird things. Jaxx wasn't at school today, the word going around was that he had played hooky. Scootaloo had skipped her usual walk home, her scooter now fully repaired and slightly shinier than usual. She had another destination in mind...A certain Boutique she wanted to visit. //-------------------------------------------------------// The Transformation (part 2) //-------------------------------------------------------// The Transformation (part 2) "You cant POSSIBLY be serious, my dear." Rarity floundered, recovering from the trauma of what the school filly had just requested of her. The frazzled dressmaker had been hard at work all day with new orders from key clients, such is her job. But that doesn't detract from the fact that she was still just winding down from her long day when Scootaloo entered her workplace. She looked into the young pegasi's eyes hoping to catch the glint of a joke in them, and the hint that she wasn't serious. "I mean it Rarity," Scootaloo said, pushing the proverbial envelope and literal blueprints to a design Scoots had planned. To her, it was the epitome of epicosity, the utmost in unreal, the zenith of....some other big word that Applebloom would know. But to the fashionista, the idea was utterly outrageous! The design was all wrong, the fabric she wanted to use was SO last season, the style and shape wouldn't be flattering, and lastly this is Scootaloo! She is a filly, why would she want a costume as garish as this to wear? And the hair, dear Celestia, the hair! Luna forbid anypony would find out she even considered doing this to a young mare's mane. "I'll even pay you double if you want, and I won't tell anypony that you made it for me. Or that you did my mane this way," she reassured, pointing at the blueprints at the outlandish mane. Rarity breathed in heavily, considering her options while turning away from the filly. She really wants this done, but I can't, I simply mustn't! Oh, but if what if she goes to some other mane groomer or, even worse, tries to cut it herself? She wouldn't be able to live with herself. She had half-convinced herself to do it when Scootaloo devised a plan. "I guess if you don't wanna do it, I could go to that one Stallion designer across town..." Rarity raised her head instantly, one ear twitching. She knew who Scootaloo was talking about. But still she asked, "You don't mea-" "Yes, I heard from other fillies at school that he's just as good as you Rarity, and he's cheaper." Rarity turned back to face her client, "Maybe MY dresses would be cheaper to if they were made of thin cotton and parchment-like cloth! I will make these....Clothes and if you'd sit down I'll get to your mane and tail as soon as I can find my clippers." The white unicorn darted off into the next room in searching. Scootaloo waited for her to disappear from view before sticking her hoof up in the air and squeeing in victory. She had to admit, she was a little hesitant about the dramatic change to her appearances, but she figured that it would all be worth it once she looked punk. She trotted over to her seat in a spiny barber chair, situated in front of a mirror. The same mirror, she supposed, that Rarity spent all her time getting all fancied up looking at. Scootaloo looked at her sprawled wavy mane in the mirror, noticing it's softness with a hoof. This is the last time it'll look this way, Well, not the last time, but the last time in a while. She smiled and imagined her mane in the way she wanted it, her hooves grooving over the places that would be cut. She hadn't had a mane cut in 4 months, it had gotten to the point where her mane was starting to look like a lighter-hued version of Applebloom's mane. She had really not liked how girly it made her look, especially now that she was converting to punk-rock. She had read that punk hair is part of the entirety of the punk spirit. She could dress punk and act punk, but with the hair, ponies will know that she's punk. Rarity finally returned with her clippers and cutters hovering above her head. She had Scootaloo close her eyes as she made the first snip. After about an hour of cutting, primping, and recommending/applying products to her mane; Scootaloo had her desired mane. A spiky mess that fell into her face, shaved on the sides and spiked up in the back. She thought it looked amazing, Rarity on the other hoof wanted to vomit from what she had created. She washed her hooves and burned said clippers, saying something about 'Tools of murder in the world of Fashion...' After several minutes of Scootaloo looking at herself in the mirror and rubbing the grainy, buzzed sides of her head, she went to work with the other order of business; her punk regalia. She had to stand still for a good fifteen minutes while Rarity got every single last measurement, from hoof to head. She picked out the patterns, designs, lengths, how small the holes for the wings would be, everything she could think about. She had loved to watch it all come together, and though she didn't usually wear clothes, she could see herself in THIS the next time to wear clothes somewhere. She had to wait for Rarity's OCD subside over every tiny little detail to be able to wear her punk dress. It was red and black in color with black shoe-laces criss-crossing down the front . The pattern was a plaid like a lumberjack pony would wear, but it blended in with the black faux-leather borders near the underbelly of the wear. There was two straps to be placed over the shoulders, to keep it up. The end of the dress was all black in a skirt type of style, with a frilly black over-lace that worked nicely with it. She slipped it on, and smoothed it out with a free hoof, and carefully slipped her wings into their respective holes. She glowed and absorbed every feature of the dress. Every slope, every shape, every thread of the thing. She felt sudden moisture grace her eyes and overcome her as she brought her hooves to her mouth. She loved it. She was punk. This is all the filly wanted to be and her foundation on the subject was solid (as young girls are with their obsessions) . She was convinced that, staring into this long, lit-up mirror was her narcissistic zenith. She stood there for several moments, periodically squeeing and pinching herself to see if this assent a dream. Rarity unelequently stopped the show with a cough. Scootaloo looked back with apprehension, having to tear herself away from her transformation. "Now Scootaloo, dear. Its getting late, so I want you to go home now. And take that...Monstrosity of my design with you. Its free of charge if you don't tell anypony, and I mean ANYPONY that I made it." Scootaloo nodded feverishly and undressed before her stylist. Rarity wrapped the dress up and presented itvto the entranced filly. Rarity booted her out of the back door of the boutique. She hurried along the path home on scooter making sure the helmet didn't damage Rarity's work on her mane. She got clack for being late to dinner and showing up with a new mane-cut but her foster mom relented after a little bouquet of apologies. She ate some cold Mac and Cheese and went to bed, eager to fall asleep to show all of her friends her new look. She kept in mind that the look is only part of being punk, and that she'd still have to keep herself grounded. But for the moment she looked at her mane in the mirror and reveled in her looks. She saw a streetmare named Desire looking back st her...Erm I mean Scootaloo. She flopped onto her small, single bed in her room and fluttered her tiny wings in contentment. She was closing her eyes to sleep when the nasty part of her brain placed doubt inside her. What if Applebloom and Sweetie Belle didn't approve? What if they thought that she was too weird or too radical-looking to be a part of the cutie-mark crusaders? This part of her brain generated thoughts like these until the rest of her brain reassured her that they wouldn't. They're my best friends! They'll understand; buck they may even like it more than the way I was before. She drifted off into an uneasy sleep, not knowing that these assumptions and fears might come true... //-------------------------------------------------------// Punk-15 In The Morning //-------------------------------------------------------// Punk-15 In The Morning Scootaloo awoke with a jolt to the sound of her alarm clock jolting and jumping around her petite bedside table. She disdainfully stared at it for a solid 10 seconds before smashing the lever on top halting its ear-melting noise. It was a half hour earlier than when she usually awoke. But she was not phased by this, as she had the early-morning feeling of not knowing anything but the fact that she has to get to the bathroom, as is life. She stumbled into the dim-lit, cheaply-tiled room, not seeing herself in the mirror at first. She did a double-take though, when she did. She thought she looked gooooood, even with bed-head. She relieved herself, took a quick, cleansing shower, and re-did her wet mane the way Rarity had showed her. By now, she had started getting apprehensive of her appearance. And this is why she was up so early, so she could style her mane in a way that she wouldnt have to be apprehensive. She really wished she was a unicorn at that moment, as styling the back of her mane was a pain. Perhaps Applebloom or Sweetie Belle could help her out...Unless the two reacted to her the same way Rarity did. Reflecting on Rarity's words and body language, she was overtly negative towards Scootaloo's new look. "What would Sweetie Belle think? The two are sisters, Rarity had probably already told her! She's going to be mad that I didn't consult her first!" She thought aloud. By now her siblings were stirring and she put on her saddlebags. She figured if her friends were going to hate her, she might as well get to school and find out before she tore herself apart in anticipation. Her heart thudded dully as trotted out her front door, starting her path to school. Her foster home was at the rim of ponyville, by the river. She had a straight shot through main street, over the bridge, past the market, and down the path where the schoolhouse was. She loved her morning ride, she got to see all the things that made the town pretty while feeling the wind flow through the holes in her helmet. She neglected to wear her signature helmet on this day in paticular in fear of damaging her mane. The sun was just rising from beyond the horizon when she was passing the bridge. Her breath was cold, from the frigid night air that had yet to be replaced by the warm day air. She shivered as she waved to a few townponies frolicking to their workplaces or stores, getting a smile and a wave from few, but still getting odd stares and gawks from others. This didn't bother her, she didn't like the gawking ones anyway. She noticed those ones ostracizing her and other different ponies for a while now and thought down on them. Why do they get to judge other ponies based on what they look like or like to do? It didn't make sense to her, but she didn't dwell on the point. She was nearing the schoolyard now, and approaching it fast. She was around five minutes or so earlier than usual, early enough that the eggheads were already in class but the rest were yet to arrive. She chained up her scooter with a simple combination lock on a post and lounged outside the schoolhouse wall, imitating the Rampones and anxiously awaiting her best friends to show up. Featherweight arrived shortly after she took her position on the wall and complimented her mane before heading inside, with a blush about his face. Scootaloo scratched her head and wondered why he ran away so quickly but decided to drop it as the dreaded Diamond Tiara and her toady Silver Spoon arrived. She did a double-take at Scootaloo and passive-aggresively spouted, "Well...It looks like someone offended the barberpony!" As she walked past. Silver Spoon let out a cackle and Diamond Tiara joined her in the laugh as they stepped inside. Scootaloo flipped them off by crossing her foreleg with her hoof at the elbow before fuming with a scowl against the wall she did it late enough that they didn't see it unfortunately. One of these days Diamond Tiara....POW! To the moon! She breathed deeply and let it go as a few short minutes later, Applebloom arrived at the schoolyard with a shocked look on her face. Coming up the trail Applebloom thought she recognized her friend but she could have bet that it wasn't her. "Ho-ly hay..." She whispered approaching her pegasus friend. "How do you like my new mane-cut Applebloom? I'm a punk-rocker now!" She spouted with a nervous smile, hoping to recieve praise instead of dreaded judgement. "It's...Something alright." Applebloom turned her head to look at it from a different angle. "You don't like it?" She asked, panic spreading across her face. "Oh no no no. Ah didn't say that, it's just...What was wrong with your old mane?" Applebloom pondered aloud. "Well, it wasn't punk, and I happen to like this style better." She replied, trying to regain control of the situation in her mind. "Ah think you're starting to take this punk thing a liiiiiitle too far Scoots," Applebloom protested, trying to get her friend to see the light. Scootaloo was about to snap back at her when Sweetie Belle approached the two from behind with a cheery grin. "GOOD MORNING!" She belted at the two with an adorable voice crack, the white unicorn jumping off the ground for emphasis. The two unaware schoolfillies screeched in fright and jumped in opposite directions. Scootaloo ended up in a bush, while Applebloom had ended up hugging the trunk of the nearby tree. "Why'd you girls freak out like that?" Sweetie asked innocently, throwing them a big smile. Scootaloo groaned and climbed out of the bush gingerly, making sure her hair was still in place. Not noticing Scootaloo, Sweetie Belle tried to pry Applebloom off of the tree, asking her, "What where you two doing outside of the School? Class is starting in five minutes!" Applebloom finally released her grasp and pointed at Scootaloo, who was approaching the tree. Sweetie Belle followed Applebloom's hoof until her jaw dropped. "Oh my C..." Applebloom bumped her foreleg, "Uhhh...I really like your mane?" She grinned sheepishly. Scootaloo rolled her eyes and sighed. "You said that about Smartypants, too." She pronounced, deflating and stepping away from her friends with a frown. She tensed a second later as a set of white forelegs wrapped around her neck and held onto her. "Scootaloo, i'm not saying i don't like it, it looks...great, it's just that it's a little too..." She plans out her next words carefully. "Extreme for you?" Applebloom shook her head in Scootaloo's direction followed by Scootaloo shaking Sweetie off of her back. She pouted and said, "You guys, why can't you grasp this? I want to be punk, I am a punk, it's who I am now. I'm going to do things because they're right to do, not because othe ponies want me to. I will do my hair this way to signify so. And if it takes being radical to get my point across, then that's what it will take." Her friends stood there in a stunned silence, up to the point where Applebloom stepped forward to her new punk friend. She had determination smeared across her face, "Scootaloo...Snap out of it! You always do this, you see something that some other pony is doing and you tell Rainbow Dash about it, an' if she approves o' it, you copy it!" Applebloom growled, letting her feelings on the matter spill, trying only to talk some sense into her. Now it was Scootaloo's turn to stand there, mouth agape. She thought what she was going to say through while Sweetie Belle backed away from her friends, not wanting to get sucked into the conflict. Scootaloo noticed her slinking into the background and dropped what she was thinking. Desperate for reassurance, she looked at Sweetie Belle with a strained look. "Sweetie belle...That's not true right? ...Right?" Sweetie Belle chuckled awkwardly, "Well...Ya see.." She was saved however by a reverbrating bell signifying that class was starting. The three forgot their squabbles for an instant and rushed to get into the schoolhouse. There, their teacher was closing the door again. This time Scootaloo shot through it before it had to be stopped by Applebloom and Sweetie Belle. Scootaloo quickly glanced around the room at the class. Most looked up at her with amazement. Snips and Snails even clapped at her mane-cut with dumb bravado. Jaxx was back in class again and looked up to see the filly. He considered her for a second before giving an impressed look. Then he looked back down at the graffiti he was making into his desk. She gracefully stumbled over to her seat by Jaxx, her blood pumping fast from all the attention she was getting. Not ten seconds after she had sat down, Cherilee had stopped talking to Applebloom and Sweetie Belle about punctuality and Scootaloo felt a piece of paper nudge her elbow. She looked up at the deliverer, right into those blood-red eyes. The last time she had seen them, they had been cold eyes, but now they seemed warm with a little bit of a glint to them. She looked away and blushed, hoping Cherilee didn't see them. Their teacher was busy readying the board with simple arithmetic and paid no attention to them. Scootaloo tentatively opened the note, feeling Jaxx look at her reaction. The note read: "I really like the new look, wanna have lunch with me to talk about some things?" Not wanting to show how giddy she was at the offer, she curtly nodded in his direction. Jaxx was satisfied with her answer and he looked back to his graffiti, finishing the anarachy symbol in black on his desk. Scootaloo didn't notice this however as she gleefullyyet silently squeed in her head. She wasn't sure why she was so excited about it but her head was light and her heart was thumping erratically. She turned her head to her other side to tell Applebloom the good news but stopped herself with her mouth open. She darted her eyes down, hoping Applebloom didn't see her. She pretended she didn't notice Scootaloo, she later found, but she in fact did. She went through the rest of the few hours of school before lunch with a conflict in her head. She lost one of her friends, possibly two today. Her friends that made her who she was, over this fad. But she looked to the right however and something told her in her mind that something was happening, she couldn't put a hoof on the feeling but she liked it. So in a wash of emotions time flew between classes where she sat, un-moving, un-learning; only thinking. That is...Until the bell rang for lunch.