//------------------------------// // Friendship is Awkward |Part One| // Story: Twilight Sparkle and Her Unwanted Love Life // by ProbableSarcasm //------------------------------// "I didn't care what friendship could be, (MY LITTLE PONY!) until Solaris basically forced it onto me!" TWILIGHT SPARKLE’S UNWANTED LOVE LIFE By CondesendingSarcasm Do you know of the Muffin Man? Not Twilight either, she never really payed attention to the entire lesson of the Muffin Colt but she believed that the Muffin Colt is the reason why Equestria makes so many muffins in such a short time span. The entirety of the time that Twilight sits in the Royal Bakeries is spent procrastinating. A bookworm who procrastinates by taking notes of the procedure of the slightly uncomfortable bakers. So far she has the entire recipe and the mixed reactions of having a mare stalking a couple of stallions with a notepad, scribbling everything they do down. Twilight actually has gone to the Royal Bakeries in search of the Muffin Colt, because she was that determined to find proof that she wasn’t just a stupid ten year old who has to ask permission to go to Disney.hof because her mum said so. After an entire manhunt later, Twilight was found by a dragon and was kidnapped – actually it was a dragon-like turtle but there’s not a difference— “Who the bloody hell wrote this! This is slander! I should sue!” Twilight looks up from the newspaper which claims to have been the completely ‘accurate’ biography of Twilight Sparkle. “I would never go outside or—” Barbra stopped Twilight right there. “That’s pretty much why no one really knows you, Twilight,” Barb, Twilight’s dragon assistant, answers from downstairs. “No one can write a biography about you if you refuse to step outside for more than three minutes without complaining you might get a hernia.” “Hey! If you ever gotten a hernia, you’d know how much they’d hurt!” Twilight rubs her lower abdomen, where a bandage still remains. “It hurts badly!” “You had the hernia surgery a month ago, Twilight…” Barbra finally appears from down-stairs, which happens to be the library main floor. The upstairs is more or less a balcony with Twilight’s room being on the far side of the elevated floor. “Besides, you were souped up on pain pills—I started calling you Max Pain!” Twilight shudders, the feeling of being addicted to those pills to avoid the sharp piercing pain of a hernia. “That’s beside the point!” Twilight snarls, slamming the newspaper on the table with a scowl. “I would never, ever, not pay attention to Solaris!” “Because you had a filly-crush on him when you were twelve?” Barbra deadpans, taking off her pink apron. “Even though Solaris is older than sin.” “He is not!” Roars Twilight, even though what Barbra said true. “Sin was created two years before Solaris! Then Sin died giving birth to Eris…” “Are you even going to attempt to deny the accusation of you having a crush on him when you were twelve?” Barbra asks, her eyebrows raising slightly before one of them lowered to a suspicious look. “Deny what was true?” Twilight throws the newspaper out the window, the paper landing on two jogging – and rich – ponies down below. Twilight simply closes the window to avoid apologizing to the two jogging ponies. “I stopped a year after that, because I happened to mature when I’m thirteen.” “You changed your entire sexuality because you got rejected by your thousand year old teacher,” Barbra reminds, her claws tapping the walls with no real rhythym or reason behind the action. She was just bored. “I mean, if you’re a real asexual—then it’s all downhill from here.” “I’m not an asexual because Solaris doesn’t love me that way, Barb!” Twilight scoffs, her violet eyes rolling in her skull. “I don’t like romance, not one bit, I mean those who can get romance can be happy – I just don’t need a significant other to be happy if I have friends!” “No,” Barbra sighs, “You don’t have friends, Twilight.” “Bon-Bon was nice!” Twilight defends, crossing her forelegs across her chest. “So was Treble Clef, he played me a song!” “Have you never been hit on before?” Barbra raises her eyebrow again, “As smart as you are…” “Why would someone hit me? What have I done?” Twilight ignores the fact she dropped the newspaper onto two unsuspecting ponies below her. “What—no” Barbra slides her head into her hand before looking back up, “Twilight, they were flirting with you, you daft bugger.” “They were?” Twilight groans, feeling like an idiot the more she spoke of this topic. “Why is it so hard for me to actually develop a friendship with another pony without them falling hooves over snout for me.” “Because it’s not in a stallion’s best interest be just friends, and unless you find a stallion who does otherwise, chances of love is high…” Barbra says, which leads to Twilight raising her own eyebrows now in suspicion. “Who are you and what have you done with me assistant?” Twilight feigns an Irish accent to get her point across. “Because the last few times I spoke to her, she didn’t say anything about being a philosopher.” “I read it out of a magazine,” Barbra admits. “Figures,” Twilight says, her eyes unintentionally looking to the right. “You shouldn’t read those magazines, it’s all just taboo that’ll get idiots to read.” “A lot of ponies read the Tell-Tall magazine, Twilight,” Barbra points out. “That’ll get idiots to read,” Twilight repeats herself. “Quite frankly, they named me the Star-Student…” “That’s not that bad – I guess,” “They named me the Star Student because I’m—quote on quote—attractive as a model but smarter than Solaris himself,” Twilight finishes, a vein throbbing on her forehead. “And pictures of my flank to prove their point.” “It was your Cutie Mark, and they had an artist draw it.” Barbra points out, “It’s not that hard to draw a Cutie Mark, ever seen any action-spy play yet?” “Not my thing,” Twilight mumbles. “I prefer the adventures that fantasy offers rather than the cliché rogue agent saving the world of a nuclear threat.” “Wow, you’re really uncultured,” Barbra muses, “First you go off on magazine readers, then go off on stallions flirting, and then finally never seeing an action play.” “Bollocks,” Twilight mumbles again, “I guess the days have changed from the old classics being the most popular genre…” “Oh, they still are,” Barbra picks up a book by Edgy Alley Boe, “Honestly the best thing to be read, but not every pony can read.” “I’m quite aware of the illiteracy in Equestria, my dear Watson,” Oh course the snarky retort from Twilight was all Barbra needs to finally look at Twilight with a strange look. “You alright?” Barbra asks, “You’re acting strange.” “Well, no one would take me seriously because I’m a mare…” “You told everyone you were looking for ‘humans’ last year,” Barbra deadpans, receiving a glare from Twilight in return. “And today, you went sprinting through the town ranting about how the nightmare was coming.” “I might have panicked but that proves nothing!” Twilight exclaims, her chest puffing out for a moment before deflating. “Ah bloody hell, I just realized I sent that letter to Solaris.” “I actually burned it,” “Right, quick thinking but never do it again,” Twilight half-praises Barbra, “Now take a letter.” Dear Prince Solaris, Regarding my last report of Night-Terror Knight, and how his inevitable return would be in my lifetime, I have conducted a full analyses of the myth and concluded it to be completely true and placed into history. While you pass it off as fodder, the evidence that Equestira’s history provides otherwise – as there is a black spot in history that was claimed to be destroyed in an uprising against Harmony. However, in the state of emergency, I feel the need for preparations of the defense against Night-Terror Knight to be implicated in a timely manner for the fate of Equestria hangs in the balance. Your Faithful Student, Twilight Sparkle “Excellent,” Twilight smiles, “Now I’ll just wait for the response and get ready to get into the fallout shelter…” “Hold on a second,” Barbra expels fire and out popped a scroll. She snorts when she reads the first paragragh of the lengthy message. “He thinks you’re on drugs.” “WHAT?!!” Roars Twilight, trying to snatching the scroll from a dragon dying in laughter. “LET ME SEE!!” Barbra holds the letter away from Twilight, continuing to read the long letter. “HOLD ON, I’M NOT DONE!” “BARBRA!” “IT’S A REALLY LONG LETTER!” “THAT’S MY MAIL,” “I AM YOUR MAILBOX, YOU TWIT, WAIT!” Dear Twilight Sparkle, I honestly pray that you have not been eating those medicinal plants again, because this is the kind of letter I would have received from a drug addict having a horrible trip. And I know a bad trip when I see one. If you’re not sober and actually bugging me with this nonsense, I will sell everything you love in a poker game. (Okay maybe not, but you get my point) I want you to get a bloody life, mate! Nosing around a bedtime story and calling the boogey-colt real with this so-called ‘evidence’ is as useful as giving anonymous tips on Jack the Ripper. Go outside, for once, and make friends with anything – I don’t care if it’s even breathing or moves – at least make an effort to get attached to an earthworm. Get a pet. Or a hobby, either or works. Or better yet, you’re twenty one now—Twilight—go get laid or something. Stop looking into bedtime stories to scare foals into not leaving their beds and go be an irresponsible adult! Do some drugs, drink some alcohol, have fun! (Never in my life had I ever had a student who refused to rebel me in their teenage years, and I still can’t believe I have to tell you to disobey my Health Class so you don’t end up alone) It’s the years of your youth and you’re going to end up like a cat lady librarian who hates cats. Once you’re sober, and I hope you’re not sober as your reading this, pack your luggage. I have a new assignment that requires you to move out of your home and go to a town called Ponyville. (It’s literally two miles south of here, you can’t miss it if you take a train.) Watch over the Summer Sun Celebration and get acquainted with your new house. I accidentally sold your house in a game of Texas Hold-Em, and might not get it back. (I’m fully aware that I’m a Prince, or a King if you decide, and can do whatever I want but I’m feeling very lazy and squashing another uprising because of something like a diet of cakes is just asinine.) So all in all: Get a life. Love, Prince Solaris. P.S: I’m not joking, I would rather you be a mare who is addicted to partying and destroying your organs than a mare who ends up a serial killer in her thirties. P.S.S: Okay, don’t destroy your organs, keep the partying to a minimum. Just stop being an antisocial nerd. P.S.S.S: I actually sold your house, on the back of the scroll is an eviction notice taped on. P.S.S.S.S: Don’t be a serial killer. P.S.S.S.S.S: There’s an ulterior motive of me booting you out of Great Canterlot you nerd, stop reading and go make some friends. “I hate the train,” Twilight groans, holding the ticket gingerly in her magical aura. Twilight and Barbra are sitting on a bench, Twilight scowling at every train cart that dared to arrive. “I love the trains,” Of course, Barbra had to say that—just to spite Twilight. “Only because you hate them so much!” “I figured so as much,” Twilight growls, sinking into the bench further. Staring at the platform with distaste. “You hate trains?” Barbra asks, looking at Twilight with a confused look. Of course, the hatred of trains are unusual for Twilight— Then again, losing your house because your teacher gambled your house away isn’t the best message she seen so far – but when you combine it with the message of the letter – you’d be pretty pissed off too. Off the train, finally. Except it takes Twilight an hour and a half to finish her drafting of the checklist in complicated and detailed fasion. “Next time I leave Canterlot, I’m taking the chariot,” Twilight growls, finishing the drafting of a checklist on an empty parchment. “I don’t care if I fall off, I suddenly hate everything that moves unnaturally.” “That’s really anti-you,” Barbra smugly yawns, “You would leap yourself at the train to figure out how it moves.” “Oh goody, I have to lecture you about line-crossing,” Twilight places the quill into her saddlebag and draws a line in the sand. “That’s the line—” She strikes her hoof over the line, obliterating it from existence. “And that’s how you cross it.” “So… did I cross the line?” “Yes, Barbs, you did,” “The – jumping in from of a train – bit?” Barbs climbs up onto Twilight’s back and just rests there, then she sprawls out into a comfortable position. “Are you being purposefully dense?” Twilight turned her head behind her, glaring at Barbra. Barbs makes a stupid face, her voice heavy with feigned stupidity. “Huh?” “I have the urge to smother you in your sleep…” Twilight mumbles/whispers, prompting Barbs to raise her head quickly. “I beg your pardon?” Barbs said, sticking her pinkie into whatever she has that’s called an ear, “I didn’t hear, I was admiring all of the nice clouds we have today.” “No worries, I said we’re going to have to go without sleep—” Twilight began before a snort by Barbs loudly rings in her ear. So she has the audacity to climb onto my back, expecting a pony back ride, but doesn’t even have the decency to not be loud so close to my ears. “Oh bugger that! I need my beauty sleep!” Barbs exclaims, puffing her chest out. “These beautiful scales don’t grow on their own!” “Whoever told you that is an idiot,” Twilight retorts, even know she knows perfectly well of who told her that exact quote. “Things can grow on their own!” “You told me that,” Barbra rolls her eyes before lying on her back which rests on Twilight’s back, “Anyways, what’s the first thing on the list?” “Oh, erm,” Twilight unfolds the parchment, “Food— oof!” She hadn’t even realized she was walking and she bumps into a pink stallion, with even pinker mane, as a result. The stallion’s facing the other direction and he seems to tense up when Twilight speaks. “Sorry!” Twilight smiles sheepishly, “I wasn’t paying any bother to the road…” Here’s a good chance to knock off the make some friends part of the letter. “My name’s Twilight Sparkle, I’m from Canterlot, could you point me in the direction of… erm…” Back to the checklist, which the name Sweet Apple Acres is neatly (chicken scratch) written on. “Ah yes, could you point me in the direction of S—shaking, why are you shaking?” The Pink Stallion is shaking. What the devil? “Was it something I said?” “You alright there, mate?” Barbs looks over Twilight’s mane and unicorn. The stallion turns around, with the straightest face – no – the most serial killer-like face only a mother could ‘love’—quote on quote. “Twilight, I’ll distract him while you RUN,” Barbs whispers in Twilight’s ear, “Actually, bump all that, I’m going to run the second you don’t.” “You alright?” Twilight nervously asks, unsure if she should run or see how this plays out. “I’m sorry, for bumping into you there, you know, right there on the bum—but I was doing the one thing my mum told me not to do—” “Drinking and Carting?” Barbs condescendingly asks. “Barbs, SHH!” Twilight hisses at the dragon on her back, “Or you’ll be walking back to Canterlot with a bag full of—BLOODY NORA, YOU’RE MENTAL!!” A sharp gasp shakes Twilight’s ear and she whips around to find the pink stallion hover in the air with an over-exaggerated face; gasping for a good thirty seconds, a breath that could put the best diver in Equestria to shame. TL;DR—The pink stallion jumps in the air and gasps, As quickly as it happened, the stallion lands on the ground and hightails it away from Twilight; leaving a trail of dust and two very confused females. Twilight Sparkle stares after the stallion as he takes a left and disappears, her eyebrow twitching from the sudden incident. “Where’s that train, I’m jumping in front of that train— Barb!” Twilight looks over her shoulder to find a dragon dying of laughter. And the cure is a light session of strangulation. Twilight rubs her raw cheek, pouting at the satisfied dragon. “You didn’t have to smack me so hard—it was uncalled for.” “Bugger off, you were one trying to choke me,” Barbs raises an eyebrow at Twilight, “I thought you learned the last time you did that.” “I was arrested, and then got let off,” Twilight deadpans, continuing to walk on the dirt path to Sweet Apple Acres. “No one wants to be the one who arrested Solaris’s protégé, no one.” “Not even the Captain?” “We’re not even going to touch that thing with a three light year pole, c’mon,” Twilight shrugs, continuing to walk the path. “Why doesn’t Gleaming Shield visit you anymore?” Barbs asks, but glares at Twilight when Twilight looks back at Barbra with a look. “You don’t exactly share everything with me, you know!” “Yes, Spike, I do,” Twilight shakes her head, “Except for this one, I’ll tell you another time.” An awkward silence falls over them. “Did you call me Spike?” Barbs snorted, suppressing a giggle. “That’s the third time this week! Pay up!” “I always wanted to call you Spike!” Twilight lights up her horn and removes twenty bits from her inventory into Barb’s claws. “But then you were named Spines, because you’re a girl, and then you changed it to Barbs!” Twilight growls again. “Now it’s Barbra!” “What if I told you, I did this for a profit?” The dragon asks, “For all the years I’ve been alive?” “…” Twilight thought for a moment before realizing the brilliance behind Barbra’s words and name changing, then the bets to make Twilight feel like a betting mare—“Clever girl…!” “YEE HAW!” Was the words echoing through the air, the uncertainty starting to flood Twilight’s chest and belly. There was a barn, a couple of farming tools, and a field of trees, but it looks deserted. Provided that deserted meant that there was one pony kicking trees like a madman, instead of picking it naturally. (Twilight calls it deserted because that orange pony gives off the impression that he’s not all there—mentally uh.) “Alright, this doesn’t look that bad, let’s try meeting this stallion—” Twilight takes in a deep breath and then expels it. “The only time you’ll ever say that in your life,” Barbra mumbles as Twilight passes under the sign and into the field carefully. Twilight pauses to see the orange stallion buck a tree trunk, causing apples to be dispensed from the branches. “Is that even possible?” Barbra asks Twilight, who was more or less being intimidated by how strong the orange stallion was. The stallion looks at Twilight, who was frozen mid-step like a deer in some headlights. The stallion has a still look on his face, seemingly thinking, before his face brightens up with a smile. The stallion approaches and Twilight second guesses her decision to start from the top of the list. “Well, Howdy there, Missus!” The stallion greeted with vigor-like friendliness. “Ah was expectin’ some pony! Ah received word that some city-folks were coming over, so I tidied up the farm – real nice!” “...right?” Twilight replies with a small voice, still threatened by entire three inch advantage that this orange pony was. Twilight quickly puts space between the two and tries to quick-talk her way out of this. “Well, I don’t want to keep you—cheerio!” “Hold on a second!” Twilight’s heart froze when the stallion’s voice raised up, realizing she wasn’t going anywhere. “Ah ain’t as stupid as Ah thought! You must be them!” The stallion’s right ear twitched, detecting the accent in Twilight’s voice. “Ah thought Ah heard an Austailian accent!” “It’s a Canterlis accent, actually, but that’s pretty close…” Twilight squeaked, looking over to Barb for help – but Barb was off and about, helping a yellow foal push a bucket of apples. “And yes, we would be the ones looking over the food…” “Hold on there, cowgirl! There’s no need for that scured tone!” the stallion smiles brightly at Twilight, which helped her confidence a small bit but not anywhere of mentioning. “Every-pony who visits Sweet Apple Acre are almost as close as family!” “Rightly speaking, I’m actually just here to see the Summer Celebrations—” Twilight inhales, exhales, and tries to push the intimidation down her chest— “Ah know Ah’m a scary looking stallion, but Ah’m nowhere near as big as my sis’!” The stallion chuckles, hearing the hesitation in her voice. “But don’t you worry, missus! Ah ain’t no violent farm boy as those books say, heck, Ah’ve never even tussled with my own younger brother!” “Right,” Twilight adds her sarcastic retort, but it flies over the stallion’s head. “Well, why don’t you— wagh!” The stallion takes her right hoof and shakes it vigorously, completely throwing the entire façade Twilight tried to pull out of the ballpark. Twilight couldn’t do much except allow her right leg to wiggle like a wet noodle. “Ah forgot my manners! Ah can hear Grand-pappy screaming in my ears now!” Still. Not. Stopping. The. Hoof. Shake. “The name’s Applejack, proud member of th’ Apple Family!” The second the stallion releases her foreleg, Twilight took a step back. A bigger smile appears on his face. “Well Ah can’t call you Missus forever! You got a name?” “Twilight Sparkle… Blimey! I think you turned my hoof to jelly!” Twilight stomps her hoof onto the ground, pins and needles somehow forming in her hoof and shooting down her name. “If Ah wanted to, Ah would have turned it to jam!” “Smashing,” Twilight says, of course with sarcasm. “Speaking of which, back to the checklist so I don’t have to overstay my welcome.” “It’s no biggie, Twilight!” Applejack says dismissively, a quick wave of his hoof to tell Twilight off politely. “But it’s a doozy of an apple assortment of food we have, c’mon and I’ll show you!” “No, trust me, I’m already two minutes on the farm and I feel like stress eating,” Twilight mumbles, although Applejack didn’t catch what she said. Following Applejack, Twilight finds a table with an assortment of ponies scattered on every side of the combined long table. It’s a picnic, with mountains and mountains of freshly made food. “Y’all lucky ta come here first, Sparkler,” says Applejack, he gave a quick laugh at his own joke at Twilight’s name. “Yer just in time fer the Apple family reunion!” Twilight smiles awkwardly and shakes her head. “Wait, what’re you on about?” she asks. “I just need you to tell what food you’re serving. You really don’t have to introduce me to your whole family.” “That’s th’ best thing about our family,” Applejack said with pride. “Ah can both at once!” Twilight waves her hoof in a panicky manner. “No need, I insist!” Twilight pleads, Applejack didn’t even notice her existence as he took a long and deep breath. “I honestly, and seriously couldn’t care less about their names! I just need to know the quality!” “We got Apple Cobbler, Apple Strudel, Carmel Apples, Jack Daniels, Hard Apple Cider, Soft Apple Cider, Apple Strudel, Apple Poptart, Apple Salad, Cousin Jazz Apples, Apple Wine, Ant’ & Uncle Orange, Blood Orange, Orange Crush, Tangerine—she’s just adorable ain’t she?” Applejack smiles at the small little filly in Orange Crush’s orange hooves. Twilight, thinking about remembering all of those names, starts thinking about how much time she would have to spend to climb one of these trees to get a proper noose around. But then again, Cousin Jazz Apples looks bucking HOT in those stockings she has on for… whatever purposes she has for them… Twilight’s not complaining, it makes for a nice few of the plot— And the sudden need for a rope around her neck arrives once again. “On my side of the family: little Applebuck, Red Gala, and finally, Gran-Pappy Smith.” Applejack points over to a green, sleeping elder whose unconsciously rocking on a really old chair. “Come on Gran-pappy Smith! Look alive! We got company!” They all face Twilight, flashing a big toothy grin at her. Twilight almost wilts under the attention, but her voice doesn’t fade from her. “I can’t truly say yes,” Gasps, as expected, a lot of down-beat sighs and ‘Aww’s were shared and they did weigh on Twilight’s shoulders, but Twilight has better things to do than just stuff her face. “I have an assignment to do, I also have to prepare my apocalypse bunker—since someone sold my old house, which had a shelter inside of it, in a poker game—so you must think I’m absolutely bonkers if you think I’m going to—oh you have pop-tarts…” “A lot of ‘em!” Apple Poptart says proudly. “All you can eat!” “I forgot what I was talking about, I want those pop-tarts—THEY ARE MINE!!” Twilight, forgetting all table manners, crams as many of the pastries as she can into her jaws animalistically. “Heh, that’s th’ spirit! Dig in, every-pony!” Applejack chuckles at Twilight’s sudden change of manner, being refined mare to a cowgirl that’ll make three generations of the Apple family proud. Applejack looks down at Barb, who was looking on hungrily. Applejack chuckles at Barb, raising her up to a char and sliding a plate in front of her with pretty much one of everything—and that’s pretty much a lot. “You too, sugarcube! There ain’t no hungry bellies when theirs food to share!” Pop-tart has a proud look on his face as Twilight practically wolfs down three pasteries per second, which pretty much was the norm in the family; as it’s only proper to smash your face into the mountains of blueberry/apple pop-tarts and practically become a Manticore while doing so. “Ah always knew you’d bring th’ right girl onto th’ farm someday,” Gran-Pappy Smith grins at Applejack. “She mighty cute, big appetite, sum’ brains, and one feisty mare under that shell of hers.” “She ain’t my mare-friend!” Applejack counters, a blush shooting on his face out of embarrassment. “She’s a guest! Ah would have treated any-pony the same way!” “Non-sense! Some-pony as fine as her is bound to be taken by some lucky colt, no-pony is a lucky as an Apple!” Gran-Pappy Smith insists, “There ain’t no pony more perfect for that mare than an Apple, I’m already thinking of the names of the little young-uns you’re gonna have wit’ her…” “Slow your role, Grand-Pappy!” Applejack complains, “Ah just met her!” They only managed to get off of the farm when Twilight drove herself into the bushes. Basically, her innards played baseball with her stomach and scored a homerun. For a few minutes hurling in the bush. “Are you done almost done honking?” Barbra asks rudely, glaring at the bush Twilight refuses to leave in because of vomiting reasons. “This is what happens when you start gobbling three meters of pop-tarts, either your stomach explodes or your body’s rejecting it harder than Flash Sentry rejected you.” “Low blow,” Twilight says from the bushes, finally. Then she vomits. “You want a mint?” Barbra asks, holding up a pack of spray. “This is the closest thing I could pinch from the local dentist.” “You robbed a dentist office? Barbra!” Twilight looks shocked, then angry, then confused, “Who robs a dentist?!” “I’ll return it, soon,” –This translation from Barbra’s language into Equine for a better understanding of what she actually means: “I’m never gonna give this up, never gonna put this down,” “You’re going to write up quite the apology to the dentist after I’m done with you,” Twilight glares even harder as she takes the mint spray, uncaps the top, and sprays once on the tongue – and another one in the back of the throat. “Relax, chum!” Barbra’s face fell into a grin, revealing the receipt on the back of the mint spray. “I wouldn’t risk a dimes worth of jail over something as a bloody mint—” Barbs stops midsentence. “Uh….Barbs… do you hear that…?” Twilight’s ear flickers to the left, a booming scream coming out from the heavens. “…I feel that…” Barbs turns her head to Twilight. Solaris sits on his throne, masterminding everything that has taken place so far. He strokes his glorious beard as he continues to procrastinate with a magical eight ball. “What in my name is that noise?” Solaris looks up with a confused look, a scream worthy of gods piercing the soundproof barriers of his throne room. As the statue starts to chip, and break off pieces, it rumbles and tumbles and other onomatopoeias for Eris breaking free. Finally out of her stone cocoon, the god of chaos has broken free of this prison Solaris has placed her in! Time for her revenge— A scream shakes the ground, she looks up the sky with a bewildered look in her eyes. At first, it sounded like her father watching Two Mares One Cup, but then to realize her father’s dead and that scream had to come from Tartarus itself. “…You know what, I think I’m just going to wait another season or two…” Eris clicks her claws together, reforming the stone and encasing herself once more.