Duel #16: Before the Big Night (Part 1)
The ride over to Rarity’s house went auspiciously well, with Twilight feeling only mild car sickness towards the ending stretch, which went unnoticed by her friends. Thanking Celestia, she preferred the one time in the Apple family’s jalopy be the only one where she went almost as far as… upchucking.
The taxi pulled up on the side of the road. The human Rarity’s house was quite affluent, much like the other residences in the evidently higher end neighborhood, larger than her counterpart’s boutique in Ponyville: Two-storied, well over the two-thousand square range, with a rich lavender paint job, a doubled front door with diamond-shaped foggy windows and a violet wrought iron fencing surrounding the property. Now that she thought of it; Twilight had never once met Rarity’s family back in Equestria, so she had no clue what Hondo Flanks and Cookie Crumbles did for their livelihoods, let alone how their equivalents in this world afforded such a large abode.
Once indoors, the first things made evident was the courtesy of removing one’s shoes, not like in Applejack’s abode. Past the lobby the house opened up into an atrium which seemed to connect to all main hubs of the house; the kitchen, the living room, a glass door at the far back leading to a backyard, and a staircase leading to the second floor. Unlike the Apple family’s home, which was much like their counterparts’ home at Sweet Apple Acres; rustic, but very cozy in that old-timey sense, Rarity’s home was pristine and clean, with white walls and a lacquered walnut flooring. A chandelier hung high from the atrium ceiling. Not an antique, brazen kind, but seemed to incorporate a more contemporary design making use of simple abstract shapes, with strings of glistening crystals hanging from the outstretched frames.
“Please, make yourself at home,” said Rarity. “Would you like a drink? You must be parched by now.”
True enough, with all the furor that day, Twilight’s focus had been on very much everything besides the dryness that started immediately begging her through her internal metabolic processes once Rarity brought it up, “Yes, please. A glass of water would hit the spot right now.”
“Of course, darling. Spring, mineral or sparkling? Or sparkling with flavor?” asked Rarity, opening the large, metallic grey refrigerator, complete with some form of digital apparatus on the door, not like the simple steel ones from back home. Humans seemed to love incorporating this advanced technology wherever they could.
“Uh… Spring, I guess,” said Twilight. She felt simple tap water would have more than sufficed, but decided not to protest when Rarity handed her a glass, a stemmed one at that. This same courtesy was extended to Spike as Rarity lowered a bowl of water for him, giving him affectionate strokes atop his head, a notion that Spike most readily welcomed.
She looked about the kitchen, which seemed large enough to accommodate the needs of a small eatery, given the wide worktop at the center of it all, complete with a stove incorporated in the middle of the gneiss surface. As to be expected of someone as proper as Rarity, everything was set up in an orderly fashion, and the place was spotless. She noticed Sweetie Belle enter to grab a banana out of a fruit bowl from atop the counter, beside that the wall having a wide opening towards the dining room, with natural light streaming in past the thin, white drapes.
“You have a wonderful home,” Twilight stated, trying to open up to a conversation. “Sorry, I just don’t know whether I can touch anything, with it being so clean.”
“Oh, think nothing of it,” chuckled Rarity, who was clearly leaning against the sink counter, helping herself to some slightly pinkish carbonated beverage. “You are our guest. You don’t need to be overtly wary. And besides, we’ll be having six more joining us soon enough.”
“And it’s the least we could do,” muffled Sweetie Belle, one cheek full of banana, before swallowing. “I mean we got our friends all back thanks to you. And the school? It felt more friendly this afternoon than any other day since I started!”
“Sweetie Belle is absolutely right,” Rarity concurred. She looked to Twilight, arms folded over her chest, holding the elbow of her left arm in her right hand, “I honestly feel like anything I do isn’t enough to thank you for what you did for me, and the rest of the girls.” She looked about in thought, “Have you ever had that feeling where everything you do feels empty?”
“Believe me, I do,” said Twilight. In the earnest truth, the more and more Twilight thought about it, before her life-changing move to Ponyville, she really didn’t have that much to her life outside of her devotion to endless research. Day in and out, she’d spend it in her palace abode, just her and Spike… The odd visit to the Princess to show her progress… That was about it…
“Is something the matter?” came Rarity’s voice, to which Twilight was snapped out of her reverie.
Twilight held up a nonchalant hand, “It’s nothing. Just reminiscing. I used to be a real recluse, and, well, thinking back to it, my life was plain monotonous. It took quite the shove to get out there and make a change. And I couldn’t be happier.” Preventing the end of the world as we knew it, on top of saving the namesake of all nightmares…
“Oh yes, Applejack did remark about your family being luddites,” said Rarity, reigniting that particular coverup. “Pardon me for prying, but does it mean like Amish or maybe groups like the Earth Liberation Movement?”
Great, I have no idea what either of those are… “Well, my parents were just reclusive. Nothing much to say really.”
Rarity raised a quizzical brow, “I must say; you are very learned though. What’s your secret?”
“I read books,” said Twilight, a hopefully non-nervous smile etching to her face. “A lot of books.” That tidbit about her was about as true as ever at least.
“I see…” Rarity bobbed her shoulders. “Well, I suppose we’ll just find out as we go along.”
“Sorry. It’s just that a lot has changed for me in these past few months.” Another true statement, though in a different context. “I’m still adjusting, and it’s been tiring.”
“I’ll say,” Rarity concurred, setting down her emptied glass. “A new life, yet you’re willing to do so much for strangers…”
Twilight glanced as Sweetie Belle nodded eagerly. She felt Spike huddle up against her shin, the dragon-turned-dog looking up at her expectantly.
“Do excuse my choice of phrasing,” said Rarity, folding her arms behind her back, “You’re an interesting individual, Twilight. But I am very glad to have met you.”
“Me too!” exclaimed Sweetie Belle.
The discomfort of having to continue hold up her façade temporarily abated for now, Twilight could once more look to her new friends in reassurance. Before Twilight could reciprocate, the two-tone chime of the doorbell reverberated through the house, sounding almost impossibly loud to Twilight in comparison to the usually metallic ring she’d associated with them.
“Ah! That must be the girls,” Rarity remarked, walking back into the atrium.
On opening the door, the first thing to greet them was the scent of something that made Twilight’s mouth water. Past the threshold were Fluttershy and Pinkie Pie, the latter holding a stack of flat square boxes, from which that delightful aroma was emanating from.
“Pizza delivery~!” sang Pinkie, her mouth formed into a broad smile of satisfaction.
“We came as fast as we could. Pinkie called in the orders on the way so we could get our things, so we could pick up the pizzas on the way, so that-” Fluttershy began to explain apologetically, when Rarity cut her off with a lax wave of her hand.
“Oh, pish-posh, Fluttershy. Why, Twilight, Sweetie and myself barely just got here ourselves.
“I am in tremendous pain right now~” declared Pinkie, her smile never wavering, though the hints of sweat off her forehead betrayed her, to which Rarity and Fluttershy immediately lightened the load, so that Pinkie’s slightly reddened forearms no longer needed to heft the entire load of oven fresh, piping hot pizzas.
Seeing as their dinner was still too hot for consumption, they decided to wait for Applejack, Apple Bloom and Scootaloo. Rarity took the time to eagerly show Twilight her room: Similarly her counterpart’s studio in Equestria, it was made to be capacious; not as capacious as atop Carousel Boutique, but spacious enough for a desk underneath the window, a four-poster bed big enough for two people, on the opposite side of the room, whilst a total of four dress maker’s dummies were lined orderly against one wall, added with a dresser in the far corner, and a closet next to that. The fashionista wasted no time proceeding to take measurements of Twilight.
“We need to have something picked out for you for tomorrow night and all,” she stated as she was measuring Twilight’s chest circumference. “Hold your hands there for a moment, please,” she requested, Twilight complying by pressing her hands atop her chest obstructions, which only proved her point of their increased pointlessness. “Is this too tight?”
“A little, yes,” said Twilight, feeling the measuring tape pull against her chest as she inhaled. “If the mid-term duel and party is tomorrow night, how are you going to have time?”
“Oh, no-no-no-nooo~” Rarity tutted. “My employer, Prim Hemline, will be more than happy to rent us more formal attire for the night of the mid-term.” Rarity, leisurely strolled around, looking over Twilight in a scrutinizing manner. She seemed focused on something in particular, to which Twilight wasn’t certain of.
“Something wrong?” she asked.
Rarity’s eyes continued focusing on something, when she gave a dismissive wave, “It’s nothing, darling. Just taking some mental notes…”
Twilight raised a curious brow, “Well, if you’re certain.”
As Rarity got busy taking measurements from Fluttershy, the doorbell sounded downstairs once more.
“I’ll get it,” Twilight offered, followed by a curt thank you from Rarity, to which she exited the room and made her way from the second floor to the front door. True enough, it was Applejack, with Apple Bloom and Scootaloo.
“Ah’ take it everyone’s here?” asked Applejack, stepping inside to begin removing her distinctly designed boots.
“As far as I know, yes,” Twilight replied. “Rarity’s upstairs taking measurements for tomorrow, so you might want to hurry along.”
“So, um…” Scootaloo uttered, “Rainbow Dash isn’t here?”
Twilight felt her heart sink the same as Scootaloo undoubtedly felt, “Give her some time, Scootaloo. I’m sure she’ll come around eventually.” Still, the lack of the rainbow-haired athlete, be she pony or human, did leave a longing sense of lacking. Twilight had assured herself that she did the best she could with convincing Rainbow Dash to give mending her broken friendship with the girls another chance, but she supposed only time would tell for now.
“Okay…” said Scootaloo, sounding disheartened.
Twilight watched as Applejack, in stark contrast to yesterday, placed a comforting hand on Scootaloo’s shoulder. Twilight then saw a subtle hint of gratefulness emanating from Apple Bloom. Twilight reciprocated with a subtle nod to the youngest Apple sibling. As the two younger girls went off the join the beckoning Sweetie Belle upstairs, Applejack sighed in heavy trepidation, crossing her arms.
“Ah’ wasn’t sure what to say, really…” she stated, watching as her sister and her friends hurried off to Sweetie Belle’s room. “Ya reckon Dash will come back?”
“You saw back at the soccer field,” Twilight responded in confidence. If she knew her Rainbow Dash and Applejack, currently awaiting her return tomorrow night, those two had enough rough patches between one another than Twilight knew, she didn’t doubt the ones from this realm might one day rekindle their friendship. Sooner or later. “I’m sure once this ridiculousness at CHS comes to an end, you can start mending fences. Right?”
Applejack proceeded to take off her Stetson, though did not hand it on the rack. She looked to Twilight, emanating some renewed hope, albeit little. “Ah’ guess you’re right, Twi. Ya certainly haven’t steered me wrong yet.”
Just as the two were about to proceed upstairs, Twilight stopped when she heard a distinct puttering noise coming from outside. Applejack did not seem to mind it; it sounded loud, abrasive, like some abrasive horn, which only got louder, the walls of the house barely able to muffle it.
“Twi? Ya comin’…?” Applejack called, when the sound seemed to settle right over on Rarity’s driveway. It cut out abruptly, followed by silence. In only a moment later, another ring of the doorbell. Twilight took the initiative and opened the door.
Past the threshold, a sports bag suspended from one arm while holding some form of helmet under the other, stood none other than Rainbow Dash. “Is this a private party or can anyone join?” she quipped.
“Rainbow?!” exclaimed Applejack.
“AJ,” replied Rainbow with a gesture.
“Rainbow?” asked Twilight.
“Twilight,” Rainbow acknowledged with a nod.
“Applejack?” came Rarity, peering from behind the corner up the stairs.
“Rarity,” called Rainbow with a lax wave of her wrist.
“Twilight?” Fluttershy appeared up the stairs.
“Flutters,” said Rainbow, prying her foot out of a sneaker.
“Rainbow?!” called Scootaloo, joining Rarity and Fluttershy up the stairs.
“Scoots,” Rainbow smiled, stepping into the atrium.
“Rainbow?” asked Fluttershy in surprise.
“Pinkie!”
Twilight yelped when the pink abnormality in the shape of a girl appeared right next to her, a toothy grin settled on her face.
-
Sunset stalked down the less… respectable part of Canterlot City, past the main industrial hub of the city; the surroundings having changed from apartment complexes and small shop businesses to factory buildings and storage facilities. Today’s near defeat at the hands of Twilight Sparkle; an unacceptable variable that she needed to rectify, ensure it did not happen again. Seeing the likelihood of how she would be her chosen foe for the midterm match, Sunset knew she would have to be at her best. No, beyond her best; she had to duel like she’d never dueled before, she needed something that the fools at CHS would not see coming.
Trekking down the asphalt road past the thrumming and whirring of machinery around and within buildings, their ever-decreasing volume hinting that she was getting closer. The further down she walked, the less bustle, and the buildings changed from inhabited and functioning to run down and dilapidated. Any respectable citizen would admonish their fellows that this was no place for them.
One such reason was slumped against a worn-down net fence; a shaggy, dirty, bearded man, garbed in what might as well have been a bunch of rags cobbled together for the vain hope of warmth in the mid-October season. A brown bottle was grasped in a slumped hand, begging the question if the sorry sod was either passed out or bereft of life. Not that it mattered; he was just an insignificant piece of refuse, out of sight, out of mind. Indeed, the outskirts of the industrial hub of Canterlot was full of such ilk: Drunks, junkies, dealers, hoodlums, outcasts; all of Canterlot’s unwanted refuse would congregate here, where they could waste away, or indulge in whatever unsightly dealings they wanted, with no-one to get in their way.
Walking past a rusted set of dumpsters; Sunset recalled how during one of her trips there, some pair of human garbage dared approach her, thinking her as some vulnerable, untarnished, scared little girl for them to get their rocks off to. She thought she might have recognized a particular dent on the surface on one of them. If that one had walked away at all, no doubt he would have difficulty with pretty much anything, she gathered, for the rest of his life, let alone the need for having his nasal cavities restructured.
Normally such a place would be far beneath her notice, but Sunset knew something that most at CHS did not. And it was all there; the abandoned Abbslock factory. Sunset didn’t know, nor care, about how and why it was abandoned. Maybe something about the economy being in the toilet for the umpteenth time: Humans never seemed to learn from their mistakes anyway. She ducked and scooted underneath a hole in the perimeter fence, making her way around before coming to a door so helpfully labelled “No entry”, along with the indeterminable amount of graffiti, and the graffiti over that, and the one over that, et cetera. She banged on the metal surface with a fist a few times, the door reverberating quite nicely, and waited. A little hatch slid open on the upper surface.
“Password,” came a slightly gruff female voice from within.
Sunset produced a card from her jacket’s pocket and flashed it. On the back it looked like an ordinary Duel Monster’s card, while the front had the makings of one, but left bare, save for an image on a white backdrop where the usual image would be: On it showed sixteen black spheres of varying sizes lined up in an undulated pattern, with sharp, curvy lines extending from the larger spheres, ending in a four-horned head on one end and a two-horned one on the other, like a simplistic depiction of a centipede.
“Hell’s bells,” Sunset stated, rolling her eyes at the ridiculous phrase. “Now hurry up an let me in, Sting.” She leaned in to sneer condescendingly, “Or should I say “Starry Tails”?”
The hatch slid shut, followed by the click of a lock, and a thump, the rusted door swinging open. Behind stood a young woman with dark blue skin and a head of navy-blue hair that was swept to the left side of her head, with the right side being shaved off, which also showed seams of a lighter color stemming from the roots, indicating her hair was dyed. She was dressed in a worn denim vest which was clearly just a jacket with the sleeves torn off over a black t-shirt, along with a pair of ripped jeans and high-soled boots. The woman eyed Sunset, clearly unamused.
“Still haven’t learned not to run your mouth despite going to that school and all?” she remarked flatly. “What do ya want, Shimmer?”
“I need to duel someone in tonight’s cage match,” said Sunset demandingly.
The woman, Sting, or Starry Tails as she preferred not being referred to, looked at Sunset contemptuously, “Well sure. Just go on in. Would you like some complementary tea and biscuits while you’re at it?”
Sunset groaned. If the headache wasn’t aggravating enough, she was not in the mood to be dealing with Sting’s attitude, “Cut the crap, Sting. I’ve got a big match tomorrow and I need to be certain I’m ready. I need to duel someone. And I’m not talking about some greenhorn you just brought in off the street; someone decent.”
Sting did not budge, “Look; Gauge is already pissed enough with ya coming and going as you please. You might be the toughest bitch on the block, but don’t you forget that you don’t run this joint. You wanna duel in the cage? Maybe consider picking up the phone next time Gauge wants you.”
“Tell Gauge she can keep my cut when I win,” Sunset replied staying firm with her demands. “And if I don’t, I’ll pay her double the losses. But I mean seriously? Me losing?” A wry smile formed on her lips.
Sting sighed, “Shimmer, this is already annoying as hell, so would you just get lost before I-” She was abruptly cut off when a loud buzzing emanated from her vest’s pocket. Taking out a phone, her expression informing Sunset of the situation, given the security camera a good two feet over the door. “Boss? Yea. But should we really-” a defeated frown crept onto Sting’s face. “Fine.” She covered the receiver side with a hand, “Gauge says triple if you lose.”
Sunset smirked, letting herself in past Sting without a word, the door slamming shut behind her.
“Get your ass over to Gauge pronto, Shimmer,” Sting called, sounding quite displeased.
Sunset said nothing as she came to a flight of stairs just a few feet into the factory. Whatever threat Sting, or Gauge, or any of the other Ghouls made at her; she could hardly care. Come tomorrow night, the lot of them would be a mere footnote in what she would accomplish. For old times’ sake, she figured she might as well have a little fun preparing. If Princess Twilight dared think of herself as a full-fledged duelist; Sunset thought how much she’d love to see her trying to take on the underground.
-
Ever since coming to this world, throughout her stay, Twilight had felt the constant pangs of longing for home, and an inherent sense of distance or isolation among its human inhabitants. But for the first time, she felt the genuine warmth of camaraderie; with her and her eight new friends all gathered at Rarity’s dinner table, with everyone helping themselves to one, or more of the five pizzas courtesy of Pinkie and Fluttershy. Everyone was talking about the afternoon’s “boss rush” (the terminology of which continued to elude Twilight), about certain plays, complimenting Twilight’s progress in such a short amount of time, and, most of all, her amazing performance against Sunset.
Afterwards they had all made their way back to Rarity’s room, where they had collectively gotten to work on adjusting Twilight’s deck for tomorrow’s final match. All the girls, the Cutie Mark Crusaders included, had even offered both their own cards, in addition to extras they had left on the side, set within binders.
“First order of business,” said Rainbow, who lazily laid across on Rarity’s bed, resting her head atop her arms, “We gotta get you some Synchros in there. Now, don’t take this the wrong way or anything, but how would you feel about having an awesome dragon in your deck?”
“Ohhh no, Rainbow,” said Applejack, for the first time sounding outwardly unapologetic towards the athlete, “You’re not gonna make this into some self-promotion. And besides,” she threw a chummy arm around Twilight’s shoulder, “Twi’s already firmly in the Xyz camp.”
“Aw come on, AJ,” groaned Rainbow, “Everyone knows dragons are where it’s at.”
“… But only one of us uses dragons, right?” asked Fluttershy, who, as expected, went wholly ignored. “Well, I mean, I haven’t made it public yet, but…”
“Pardon me,” called Rarity, no doubt in a bid to stop any potential bickering right off the bat in their reunion, “but might I suggest hearing out what Twilight feels about it before making any assumptions?”
Twilight gave a subtle sign of gratitude, “If it’s all the same, girls, I believe I’m most comfortable with my current style of deck.”
“Sorry Dash,” chuckled Applejack, “but it looks like Twi’s stickin’ with the Xyz crowd.”
Rainbow rolled her eyes, “Alright, I can take a hint. So, what’s the plan then?”
Twilight looked up from her spot on the floor, currently jotting down notes on a notepad, “I’ve just compiled all I remember from my duel with Sunset earlier,” Dark magic notwithstanding, “so all it comes down to is simply making a deck sufficiently anathema to Sunset’s Archfiends.”
“Anna-what-now?” asked Apple Bloom, all the while idly stroking the top of Spike’s head.
“Anathema. Basically, something made specifically against something… else…” Twilight noticed Pinkie Pie leaning in over her shoulder, who was looking more confounded than cheerful as was the norm.
“… Girl, you’ve got really bad handwriting.”
Pinkie was not incorrect on her notion. Twilight’s writing in the human world was squiggly, often erred from a straight line and, to Twilight’s own admittance, was even hard for her to make out.
What would one expect when you’ve spent a lifetime writing with levitation instead of hands?
“Anyway…” Twilight interjected, gently sliding Pinkie away, “Sunset’s That Six should be a major focus, what with it making her “Hell’s Gamble”, well, the opposite of a gamble with her just manipulating her monster’s results to her liking.”
“Spell and trap destruction then?” asked Fluttershy.
“Precisely,” Twilight affirmed with a nod. “Like last time, Hierophant will be crucial, what with him also being able to eliminate Sunset’s field spell.”
“Say no more,” Applejack proclaimed, handing Twilight a card. “Ah didn’t get a chance to earlier, but Ah think this might just do the trick.”
Twilight looked over the card; a spell called “Message in a Bottle.” Twilight couldn’t help but find the strange romantic connotations between the card and Applejack and her relationship status in this world, but on top of that, it seemed like an effective addition to her arsenal.
“Thanks, Applejack.”
“Oh! I’ve got something too!” Pinkie exclaimed, once more reaching into her hair for something. When she couldn’t seem to find whatever she was blindly searching for, she gave a prompt, “Hold on a sec.” She then grabbed her hair with both hands and started to fervently shake the pink fluff. An uncanny rattling permeated the room when various objects began to drop out. Among them was Gummy, who turned out to be a plush toy alligator, a rubber chicken, a bottle of cherry syrup, a set of keys, a candelabra(?) and finally, a little pink box. “There it is!”
Twilight traded confused glances with those she could make eye-contact with, but no-one among them seemed able to even suggest at an explanation, all the while Pinkie hummed an undefined tune whilst inserting all the other objects back into her hair. She took out a couple of cards from the deck box and fanned them out of Twilight with a “Voila!”
“Oh,” Twilight mouthed as she gently took the cards into her hand. They were Xyz monsters; not specifically of the Prophecy archetype, but they were spellcasters, with a much simpler summoning requirement. “I’m sure I can put these to great use!”
“Alright, if everyone else is suddenly tossing their lot in,” Rainbow remarked, tossing a card with rather remarkable deftness from her spot on the bed, “Try this one.”
Not being the least bit prepared, the feat was slightly ruined when Twilight failed to catch it and it instead dabbed on her forehead before landing on her lap. Before any more cards would be thrown her way, Twilight took out her deck and spread it along the ground in a neat row. Everyone gathered around.
-
As the afternoon gave away to evening, Sunset could hear from the rudimentary lounge set up on the second floor of the factory building as people had started to arrive at regular intervals. Perhaps Gauge, or her sister Caliber, had spread the news that she would be partaking in the cage tonight. Might as well; more bets coming her way, more money for Gauge. If she was accepting her cut, she could have probably afforded three months’ worth of rent from one match. Not that it mattered at this point. She just needed to make sure she was ready for tomorrow and crush her final obstacle.
The door to the lounge abruptly opened, in walking another young woman, her skin a shade of dark jade with an almost pitch-black head of wavy hair, accented by a healthy sheen. Looking akin to a soldier of leave, with the black tanktop and camouflage patterned pants, a most distinguishing feature was a single earring hung off her left earlobe; a golden hoop with a short link hanging off it, at the end of which hung a bullet.
“Well-well,” said Caliber, showing much enthusiasm in comparison to either Sting, or Gauge, “Almost showtime, Shimmer! Feeling at all nervous after your bit of hiatus?”
Sunset looked to Caliber from her spot on the mostly intact leather couch she’d been slouching on. Between Sting’s chutzpah and Gauge’s stringent display of authority, Caliber was a comparative delight being around with her significantly more chipper attitude. Hell, Sunset might as well have accepted that she owed this woman, what with her being the one to introduce her to this avenue in her career as a duelist.
“I don’t get nervous,” Sunset stated flatly as she folded in her fanned-out deck. “You and Gauge better had picked out a decent challenge for me. I don’t know about you, but dueling only scrubs at that dump of a school gets boring.”
Caliber leaned against the wall beside the door, smirking mischievously, “You know, you could always blow that joint and just work here fulltime, Shimmy.”
Sunset snorted, most of all for that attempt at endearment, “Sorry, but unlike some people, most of us have aspirations for the long run.”
Caliber responded with an amused pout, “Aww, are we not prestigious enough for fair Lady Shimmer then?”
Sunset cast an almost murderous glare at the woman as she fastened her duel disk onto her arm, “I am not in the mood for your bull crap right now, Caliber. I already have these inexplicable headaches, the last thing I need is you grating on me. Now who am I dueling? Are they good, and should I even give the remotest of a crap?”
Caliber snickered, “Testy, aren’t ya? You’re nowhere as fun as I remember…” She finally straightened up, though the laxness in her body simply refused to abate, “Well, this oughta put some pep in you: Gauge worked her magic, and she managed to set you up with someone who’s been hankering for a chance to take you down a peg.”
“… Do you know how little that narrows it down?” asked Sunset with a raise of her brow.
Caliber let out a humored laugh, “Well come on down and you’ll see.”
Sunset said nothing as she walked out of the lounge. She knew the layout well enough to make her way down from the former office quarters of the factory down onto the assembly space. The clamor of dozens on dozens of spectators had congregated within the capacious assembly floor, mostly consisting of people of questionable standing.
The ground floor was left mostly bare, any and all machinery long gone from the factory’s heyday, with the barest hints of their outlines forever etched onto the concrete. At the very center of the room stood a wire mesh cage; octagonal in layout, spread out wide enough to fill up almost one quarter of the space. The only accommodations available were a few scattered wood benches set haphazardly around the cage. Up on the ceiling a set of spotlights were trained into the cage, leaving it the sole focus of the entire space.
Up above on a mezzanine and circling catwalk overlooking the ground floor was occupied by drastically wealthier spectators, the VIPs as it were, filled with contrastingly affluent furniture, complete with a bar set up at the back. People like Sunset had special privileges when not partaking in cage matches themselves to the VIP space, but honestly, Sunset could not recall when she’d last bothered spectating. Not that she knew if she was even welcome given the overall cold reception she’d received.
Sunset did not resist when a pair of Gauge’s thugs clasped something around her neck and her biceps. She could feel the slightest hit of a prickle against the sides of her neck from the metallic collar affixed around it. Tugging at it just slightly to try and make it feel the least bit comfortable, she denied needing any “aid” in making her way towards the cage, though said thugs did follow her, ever so thoughtful as to get the rabble to disperse around her on her way to the open hatch leading into the cage.
As the hatch was locked behind her, effectively trapping herself within a prison of steel mesh and eager, rowdy bodies gathered around. Ever eager to get this spectacle over and done with, Sunset fastened her deck into her duel disk, after which the device was activated, the blade sliding into place along her arm and the automatic shuffler engaging.
“Hello, baby,” came an older male voice from across her place in the cage, laced in a distinct hint of contempt, despite the choice of words.
Sunset’s opponent was a man, clearly in his mid-twenties at least, given the chinstrap style facial hair he was sporting. He was tall, nearing six feet in height, with a moderate build. His skin was a muted grey hue, his facial hair and the few hints of head hair poking out from underneath the khaki paisley pattern bandana wrapped around his head appeared burnt brown. And his outfit… Much as Sunset had a fondness for her studded leather jacket, the way this person wore something similar, though his was in the form of a vest, with the addition of black pants, boots and on top of it, gloves also adorned with studs, she couldn’t help but think he was trying way too hard.
“S’up, Sunny?” asked the man, “‘Bout time you had the guts to crawl back here and take what’s been long comin’ to ya.”
Sunset looked at the studded man bemusedly, “I’m sorry, have we met before?”
The man’s eye and upper lip seemed to twitch in response, “E-… Excuse me?!”
Sunset grinned, “Was that too difficult to comprehend? I’m sorry, let me try that again.” She cleared her throat in a dramatic fashion. “Do – I – know – who – you – a-”
“Oh cut the shit, Shimmer!” the man snarled, rousing the crowd into a round of eager howls with the pre-duel drama taking place. “You know well enough who I am!”
Sunset smiled in faux innocence, touching her cheek with her right hand, “I do? Well I do declare, for how would little ol’ me know such a compensating man such as yourself?”
The sound of someone laughing in a humored tone erupted from the factory’s refitted speaker system. Caliber walked into view up in the catwalks up above, grasping a mic in one hand, “Haven’t even started and already it looks like the contestants of tonight’s main event are already going at it,” she chuckled. “That’s right, all our most esteemed and distinguished guests. And let’s not forget our ground floor audience- Seriously; love you~. Tonight, we’ve got a special set up as our very own Sunset Shimmer has come back to grace our ring. And what a coink-y-dink that on the same night she’s facing off against none other than the same person she started out with in our little slice of heaven: Two years later, after making his way back up the rosters; Spring Steel!”
Sunset tapped her forehead in realization, “Ohhh right, Spring Steel! Of course, I… Honestly, still have no idea who you are. Nor do I really care.” She smiled wryly as Spring Steel grit his teeth in anger.
“Just you wait when I’m through with you,” muttered Spring Steel as his own duel disk, composed or two shades of metallic grey, deployed, “you little bitch.”
“Keep dreaming, pal,” Sunset remarked as the crowd worked into an uproar.
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Ooo. Cage match just like the ones Kaiser took part of. With a name like Spring Steel and the Underground dueling reference, it wouldn't surprise me to see him use Cybers
9766803
Well you are right about his name being a derivative of his cards choice. Though spring steel in and of itself is a type of high strength steel, not just general purpose machinery. He's also based loosely on a certain minor Yu-Gi-Oh character and uses similarly themed cards.
9765775
Oddly enough, no. It's a Shrek 2 reference.
What's the Earth Liberation Movement?
9772062
Sounds like classic hippy communists. Or possibly over privileged rich kids who became militant vegan, animalistic rights activist, extremists because thier lives where unfulfilling and they wanted to be the opposite of their parents.
Donkey!
DONKEY!
I had to for the meme
Sunset is an Underground duelist? Neat...Does anyone know the German term for empress?
10305891
Don't blame you. I did the same thing.
10589791
Kaiserin apparently