Lightning Calls
One month remained.
Rain poured over the meadow from obsidian clouds like a flood from endless caverns in the sky. Unlike her father’s, they were natural—by the Everfree’s standards, anyway. To Scootaloo their size and ferocity made her father’s storms look like gentle Spring showers. She smirked at the thought, but then squinted at the sky, a tremor in her heart that matched those within the black, swelling bellies above.
She was alone in the cloud-darkened early afternoon—as it was long before her father returned from work. Time ticked away too quickly in the past months, and results had been scarce. Risks had to be taken. And they had been taken many times before. With too much at stake, she lifted herself from the drowning meadow and into the sky.
The blanket above flashed its warning, much grander than Scootaloo was used to. You can do this. She pulled into a loop beneath the cloud, her wings connected with the its underside, and the twinge of lightning worked its way down into them in a building flame. It engulfed her like hellfire and turned the icy, stabbing rain to steam when it touched her skin.
Relax.
She fell away from the cloud, centered on the thought in defiance of her body’s screaming protests. Rain droplets that fell beside her slowed, then climbed into the sky above as she outpaced them, tugging filaments of static away from her.
The lighting within her thrashed about like a frenzied tiger against the bars of a cage. She clenched her teeth and went rigid to contain it, but the bars bent.
The lightning coiled out of her skin like a wire that had been wrapped tightly around a spool and then suddenly released. Scootaloo grunted. She flicked her wings to expel any lingering traces of lightning that still hid within.
She let her heart settle in her chest by circling just above the treetops. Calling lightning wasn’t so much a physically grueling trick as it was mental. As her father had put it long ago, dancing with death was unnerving, to say the least.
A sudden, deafening clap sent her tumbling into a tree. Branches lashed at her like whips as she fell through, snapped and torn down with her. Mud squelched against her chest, cold and wet, and sucked the wind from her. She gasped like a drowning foal breaking water, heaving in spite of a stabbing pain that refused her lungs air. Lightning played brilliant reflections off the water that bogged the forest floor, snapshotting an enormous tree split down the middle by the lightning strike. It creaked and moaned under its weight like a dying pony bewailing its fate before crashing to the ground, mere hoofsteps from where she lay.
Despite the profoundness of it, she felt nothing; the wanton destruction of her training was normal—routine. She sat up and giggled at that fact, humoring the thought of when she would be the unfortunate victim.
The sky lit up to a crash of lightning exploding another tree, and she took it as a signal to try again.
Her muscles complained, and her brain cried out against the coming torture. But she knew better than to listen. Giving in to their calls was weakness. Doubt was her worst enemy, and every word they spoke dripped with it. Ignoring them was her only option for success.
She gritted her teeth and blasted into the sky. The ground came close, but the lightning wrenched itself from her as if it had a mind of its own. Scootaloo roared as loud as the thunder itself.
Why was she even out here? It was hopeless.
She landed in a puddle of mud beneath the elm to collect her saddlebags. The feeling of drenched cotton around her midriff was uncomfortable, but the taste of carrying it in her mouth would have been more so: strapping it up already left a nasty aftertaste in her mouth.
Wings poised to carry her home, Scootaloo looked toward where Ponyville would have been if not for the thick curtain of rain. Visions of home swept through her mind, but were hardly appealing—not right now. She needed progression, not comfort. Yet, at that moment, comfort was exactly what she longed for most.
She looked up at the underside of the tree, the dark green that pattered like a thousand drums beneath the rain. Droplets here and there dribbled down into little puddles at her hooves. She gazed into one and saw herself staring back through the ripples. Teeth clenched, she stamped a hoof into it, but then closed her eyes and sighed.
Patience. She repeated the word in her head, slow and steady—let it fill her. Focus.
She took a deep breath, held it, and let it go, raising her head to let a new dribble of icy rain run down her face and wash away the mud. The chill was beyond what she would have normally considered bearable, but it had a calming effect. It was out there—her mark was out there. She need only reach out a bit further and take it, just like the rainboom. The lightning would bow. She just needed to find out how.
A smile crept across her face and she turned to loosen her saddlebags, but there was the distant wail of a bell—four faint but distinct tolls.
Scootaloo snapped to. Crap! Her father would be getting off work soon. With haste, she shot through the blinding rain for Ponyville. She landed upon the Town Hall porch much harder than she would have liked, almost cracking the floorboards, but her timing couldn’t have been more perfect; her father had just stepped out the front door of town hall. He turned from closing the door and raised a brow at her. She returned a false smile. Hopefully, he wouldn’t suspect anything thanks to the rain over Ponyville itself.
“What’s up with you?” he asked, his tone belying the blank expression he wore.
“Just, uh, warming up some before you got out.” Her smile widened, strained. “Come on, let’s go!” she added while leaping into the air in hopes that excitement would help cover her tracks.
“Alright, alright, relax. I’m coming. I don’t know how you have this much energy.”
The rain intensified as they flew toward the heart of the storm over the meadow. Scootaloo was glad that he hadn’t suspected anything, but she could feel that he was worried, his face as grave as the clouds ahead were black. He had told her how much he disliked the Everfree’s clouds—too rampant, as he put it. It was for this reason that their practices had shortened over the last few months. And why Scootaloo chose to brave it alone without his knowing.
“This one’s pretty bad, Scoot,” he yelled over the rain. “It’s a lot worse than the ones before.”
Yeah, she knew that already, her heart beating fierce like a stampede of cattle. Alone it didn’t worry her in the slightest, but with her father present it was just the opposite for some reason. She did her best not to show fear.
The storm beckoned them in with a blinding flash. Thunder rolled away like a freight train into the artificial night as pockets of the cloud lit up in scattered frenzy—a gesture of loathing for the intruders it desired to end once and for all.
Scootaloo and Tyco steeled themselves against its gnashing teeth. They looped underneath in tight formation to tickle its underside, provoking the beast. It filled Scootaloo with its rage, the charge it spewed forth like the rain from its bowels. Lightning thrashed about inside with the fury of a tiger and the heat of flame. Muscles tensed to hold it fast. Steam wafted from her drenched, falling figure.
Hold it together! she pleaded her body. Come on! Skin and bone fought to contain the monster within. Teeth clenched. Silk-like threads of energy hissed between the hairs of her coat, tethering her to the droplets of rain falling beside her. They became thick like flickering, forked snake tongues reaching out to taste freedom.
Again.
The duo looped beneath again, stealing away the cloud’s power. Scootaloo wrestled with its spasms and jerkings, striving for a harmony to subdue the unseen flames. One. Ten. Twenty times. Still the storm refused to bow.
Hatred beyond reason resurged the torrent, doubling its effort to drown them out like sewer rats. But they were defiant—just as unwilling to submit. A particularly savage bolt laid waste to the forest below only brought them a moment’s pause.
Scootaloo wiped her bangs out of her eyes. A futile but compulsory effort. Her heart had settled after its initial panic of returning with her father. His finesse reassured her of his guardianship amidst the surrounding chaos. She gave him a glance, though could hardly make out his figure through the sheeted rain. Somehow, she sensed he was on edge—not for the danger that flashed about them, but for accomplishment. He was always optimistic, but equally realistic. With only a month until the auditions, there were cracks in his façade. It riddled his voice.
“This storm’s getting worse, Scoot,” he shouted nigh inaudibly over the rain.
Scootaloo nodded with little regard for whether or not he saw. It could get ten, a hundred, a thousand times worse than this for all she cared. Time was of the essence. And walls always fell if hit hard enough.
She shot upward to tackle her obstacle head on, but her father shouted again. “Scoot!” She stopped. He had come closer, close enough to see the concern on his face.
“This storm’s too strong to practice with right now! There’s too much rain to control anything! We’re not going to get anywhere! We’ll only get ourselves hurt!”
Or worse. She shook the thought away. Great success comes at great risk. She would never progress without putting her nose to the grindstone as she had the rainboom. But if his constant reminder of the rain’s effect on containing the lightning was true, then she needed to do something about that.
Memories of how pegasi scattered clouds over Ponyville flitted through her mind like leaves in the wind. They kicked and punched them into more manageable chunks. But that would take way too long. She would need something bigger—something to blast it all away.
A sonic rainboom might do the trick.
The rainboom she had done the day her father first showed her how to call lightning came to mind. The way it had blown a hole in the cloud like dynamite. That would work.
Scootaloo shot up through the cloud like a rocket for the moon. A cry from her father was barely noticeable over the roaring thunder.
She flew blind, the bowels of the beast darker than moonless night. Lightning lit the swells of vapor with malice. Just as quickly as she had entered, she broke free of the thunderhead. Contrails followed her into the high atmosphere like claws reaching up to drag their prey back down. She stalled above the sea of darkness and let gravity draw her into a swan dive.
The tearing wind was familiar upon her face, like icicles to her rain-soaked skin. The pain made her smile; she was on home ground now.
Almost instantly, the cone formed and narrowed about her. It began glowing with its own light—vivid purple—as it unravelled at her hooftip, playing off the swirling shadows of the cloud’s inner mass. She stared it down as she had that day so long ago, teeth gritted. Nothing would stand in her way.
The thread snapped. Everything fell away into black and white, and the resistance of the universe was washed away as if she had plunged headlong into an ocean. All was silent, except a faint hissing.
Over her shoulder, Scootaloo saw a gaping hole in the cloud expanding like a sinkhole into the clear grey of an afternoon sky. Lightning arced through the open space and skittered beneath the wound.
Below, the cloud was still intact, its bulk far too enormous for a single rainboom to have cleared. Sparks bounced around behind the veil and wormed their way past her. Some lashed out like snakes from invisible warrens. They sunk their teeth into the meat of her wings and wouldn’t let go.
She burst through the belly of the cloud to a thunder of its anger, and the world returned in sight and sound as she slowed to let the sound barrier reclaim her. Tyco met her halfway between ground and sky, and both landed in the marsh. His frown was as fierce as the cloud itself.
“What the hell was that about!?”
Scootaloo felt the pangs of his worry, but they were stifled by revelation. She shook herself from head to tail, sending sparks and rainwater helterskelter. Residual traces still glowed within her like kindling. She had been doing it all wrong from the beginning.
“Scoot! Listen to me!”
She knew the chastisement that would be waiting for her, but she had to try again. His shouts were again lost to the storm in her dash skyward. The crater her rainboom had made was slowly reforming, as if the curling, twisting lightning was a dozen needles sewing it back together.
Good. She would need more cloud to practice on.
Far above the anvil-head she flew. She paused in the thin atmosphere to gaze down at it, calculate her dive. An angle would give her the most time within the cloud, maximizing the charge she could draw from it. A moment’s focus prepared her, and she dove.
She started out in a nose dive to build initial speed, just enough for the cone to form as the beast swallowed her whole. Lightning ran alongside her on the other side of the veil like wolves behind brush waiting to strike. The faster she became, the more the cone narrowed, the closer they dared come. The cone flared purple with the power of a comet, and the lightning again nipped at her wingtips.
The world white-washed away when she broke the sound barrier, a fire building inside, slow and steady. Rather than riding upon the grace of air that was supersonic flight, she powered her wings harder, in hopes that higher speeds would draw more in.
Even in the blackness she could see and feel her sight smearing around the edges. The fire within her breast, separate from the thunder’s flames, burned like a furnace packed with dry leaves. It billowed out to wage war against the chilling rain and wrestle the thunder within.
She dared a glance behind her. Thunder danced like spider webs through the tunnel she had bored and swatted at her tail as if it were a toy. It was chasing her.
She tore free of the cloud, still gazing over her shoulder in hopes that it would follow. White like the fangs of a lion, it reached out from the hole, grappling with her tail and slowly inching downward to clamp its jaws around her.
Never had a smile so wide swept across Scootaloo’s face. Her heart fluttered. She refocused on the ground, seeing it grow large and defined, and the pony who stood gazing up at her. Though a small figure, she could see the wonder in his eyes, the suspense in his raised forehoof, the hope in his partly agape mouth.
All at once, everything felt right. The roiling flames inside her danced in chaotic harmony. The silence of the supersonic world rang an undertone to the hiss of her charge—her gateway to the divine. Black and white and shades of grey befriended the absence of touch. All was at peace in this hollow yet full dimension, this world of her design.
And it was hers alone.
Her smile cracked, slowly letting forth a giggle that had welled up from her belly—foalish and playful. She let it break free and sound into the silence of her world. It washed through her like a tide upon a shore, wetting the beaches of her desires.
It splashed upon the earth far below and receded to her ocean of life that she had only just touched with the tip of her hoof. She watched its ripple ride undiminished into the distance. Slowly, she pulled back from the waters, let the lesser world again take hold.
The thunder redoubled its roars, as if to make up for her deafness to it moments ago, and the ground lurched upward as color filled her vision. She spread her wings wide and thrust them earthward with a single, powerful stroke.
Lightning warped about her and snapped between her wingtips. It fired at the ground below and rebounded up through her into the sky. A hotter flame had never before touched her skin.
In an instant, before she knew what had happened, the cold chill of mud embraced her like a friend.
The rain poured. The wind blew. Scootaloo sighed.
The lingering traces of her world escaped on her breath, burning away like mist beneath a rising sun.
“Scoot!”
She blinked to, shaking her head, before looking up in the direction of her father’s voice. She was almost neck deep into the earth, unable to move her legs or wings.
“Scoot!” She felt a hoof plunge into the mud by her chest and wrap underneath. It heaved her from the sucking muck and brought her into the embrace of another hoof and a warm, albeit soaking wet, body.
“You did it, Scoot!” he said. “You did it! Haha!”
She did. She definitely did. The thought was almost mind numbing. For so long she had fought head-on against the lightning, only for the answer to lie in outsmarting it. Her father was able to do it one way, but she was not him. She was her own pony capable of her own abilities. If only she weren’t so stubborn, the idea might have struck her earlier, unlike the rainboom. But that didn’t matter; it was hers, as was the lightning.
Somehow, the rainboom and lightning felt intertwined, like they were meant for each other, designed as such—that her combined stunt wasn’t merely a fluke. Maybe there was more to it.
“Scoot...” His voice was low, laden with awe. His hug had evaporated into an absent hoof about her forelegs, which dangled in the air. She looked at him, and his face reflected his speech. He was staring at her flank. Slowly, as if her head resisted the motion, she followed his gaze.
Golden wings shone through streaks of rain-washed mud like an unearthed treasure. Their bases honed to a needlepoint haloed by a silver mach cone thick with futile resistance. It spread out toward her tail as hair-thin lines to envelop the wings, which fanned inward and seemed compressed by supersonic flight. Every feather was distinct from its kin, and grew in size and brilliance toward the wing tips like shining swords raised in victory. Scootaloo stared for what felt like years at what she finally came to realize was her cutie mark.
“I knew you could do it.”
She squinted up at him through the rain. His hair was matted down and dripping, coat just as worse for wear, but he smiled. It was a once-in-a-lifetime smile—brief in all its glory, but never forgotten. Such love and pride could never be washed away by the downpour of rain or future memories.
She would hold that smile forever in her heart.
And it was for that smile that she returned one; though, hers grew into a wide, mischievous grin. She wanted to see it again, and the only way to do that was practice.
She had a month to go, and a lot of work in between.
[Author's Note: Thanks to Belligerent Sock for his review of this chapter.]
[Onward and upward!]
This was pretty awesome, finally Scoot gets something going her way. I know this story has a Sad tag, but I'm hoping for a happy ending.
Huzzah, Scoots!
2771693
It's already had plenty of sad parts to make it worthy of a sad tag. I agree with you that it needs a happy ending. Even if that happy ending doesn't apply to Dashie after the horrid twit she's been in this fic.
Great Chapter!
So much happy feels!!!
This is just what I needed today, really brightened my spirits up. Just so awesome!
Hooray! Finally it's going Scoots way. Unfortunately things are working too well. Given the temptation for Scootabuse, I am betting on something bad happening soon. Maybe even failure at the competition.
I wish I could trust in a happy ending, but.... the author has a habit.
(YES! YES! YES!! WHOO-HOO! Who's twenty percent cooler NOW, huh? ME, that's who!)
2771693
"Sad" doesn´t mean "tragedy". It can also mean "earn your happy ending" too.
The moment it said "everything felt perfect" I KNEW, I just KNEW. Congrats Scoots. What, not gonna go tell the girls?
Okay... I've read through these chapters while I wasn't logged in, and now have logged in to give my honest opinion so far...
*deep breath*
...
... I am extremely divided. On one hoof, it's great to see Scootaloo overcoming challenges and this so-far NOT being an accursed Scootabuse fic. On the other hoof... Rainbow Dash and the others of the Mane Six. Are... are you seriously telling me that loyalty, one of Rainbow Dash's biggest traits, takes a back seat to fame and reputation? That she is supposed to be such a two-faced WHORE OF A BITCH and get away with it? That the others of the Mane Six NEVER confront her on her shit? I'm sorry, but... sheesh, that is stupid, in my opinion.
Alright, but can the Sonic Lightningboom be used as a weapon?
It seems like something that could be used to fry the multicoloured tail hairs off of a certain terrible pegasus.
Awesome. Just awesome. But can you make a picture of the cutie mark? I want to be sure I have it pictured correctly in my mind.
Achievement Unlocked x 1,000!!!
Just one more, now, right?
I can't believe it's ending.
*shoots Rainbitch in the head with sniper* That takes care of that.
2771983 only twenty percent? i'd say at least 200%. 100 for geting her cutie mark, and the other hundred for that thunder-rainboom thing.
EAT IT, RAINBOW DASH!!!
I love this chapter
Yes! I can now die peacefully of awesomeness once this story is finished, Scoots will blow everyone away at that competition. Even Rainow Dash will be jealous of her.
2772484 Ugh FINALLY someone shares my opinion! I was just about to say the exact same thing, i read this thing in two days and I am beyond dissapoint. While the writing is solid and the flying scenes, while obnoctiously long, are good the plot just outright sucks! There are more loose ends in this story than punctuation errors in mine, and let me tell you, that is a lot. What about her mother? You never followed it up. Why is Tyco flying all of a sudden? Why did Rainbow go bonkers OCC for NO reason?! And what about that frigen teacher that Tyco flipped off?! What happened to her!!??
I'm sorry, while im interested where this is going, i will still downvote it.
2774664
It's just Bizarro Dash (probably has a goatee too) don't worry. Maybe the real one is still sound and safe with Scoots back in Equestria.
2774742
I wish. At this point, however, being apologized to... if that ever happens, I can only see Scootaloo giving Rainbow Dash a resolute '** you' for all her crap.
Short but good chapter.
2774664 Question. Are you able to come up with a story like this let alone write one?
I'm just curious because although there may be a few unknowns here that is the point. These last few chapters have been about scoot trying to reach her goals and get her mark. She now has it. Now comes the wrapping up so to speak. Have faith in the author and see where this goes. It is fanfiction after all and the majority of that is to explore other concepts within the characters and in some cases make them act out character or appear differently if the author decides it. It's called artist licence I believe. I mean pinkie isn't really a serial killer who makes tasty treats from her victims now is she?
Tell you what, you write something, post it and open yourself up to comments too. Lets see where this goes.
2774664
In response, lemme just point out that the fic's not done yet. Also, there's a time for exposition and a time for action.
For example, the point of RD being "out of character" - ponies change, sometimes in ways that we don't understand. There was a good period of time between RD becoming a Wonderbolt and her confrontation with Scootaloo that we didn't see. While her actions were most certainly not what we'd expect after watching the show, we have no idea if they'd make sense given some context. As for why this issue hasn't been resolved, Scoots said she couldn't face her ex-mentor unless she proved her wrong and became a better flier. Now that she's accomplished that, expect to see some answers soon.
BWA HA HA!!!
Now Scoots needs to go kick Rainbow Dashes ass!
That. Was. Amazing!!
And you give it such detail, I felt like I was flying with her and literally watching every single thing that was going on. Bravo
2774786
Holy shit, I completely fucked up on this one. I don't even know how this happened.
I was on my iPod a bit ago, and I didn't look at who I was replying to.
I AM SO SORRY! T_T
2778226
Let the flank kicking be doubled!
Great work, Corejo. I suspected she would combine the lightning calling and sonic boom into a
weapon of mass destructionnew stunt. I can't wait to see her wipe the smug look off Dash's face. If she does it right, she can angle the lightning to hit Dash.So, you blogged the final chapter is done... only a month left to the competition, and Scootaloo finally has her cutie mark. Could this be the not-tragic ending we've all been waiting for? Or are you going to rip out our heart at the last moment?
2780206
He is lying to us. He has another thirty chapters of constant heat-break, and then she finally kills Rainbow Dash. The end.
Oh, and she someone changes the space-time continuum and changes her cutie mark to wings stained with blood—
Okay, things are just getting messed up XD
2774664
There are quite a few things that I believe you are sorely confused about. You need to read slower XD
First, Scootaloo's mom is just as much a mystery to us as it is to them. He specifically said he had no idea where she went. And if he does, it is probably something really terrible. Either way, this is apart of the style in which he writes: third-person limited. It is limited to what she knows. There is a reason why we never see any other character's point of view.
If you read carefully, you would remember that he said that he started flying again because of Scootaloo being injured. He walked over to the meadow, and then found her, and then flew to the hospital. This is fairly obvious stuff anyway.
The amount of time separating her from when she last had that teacher and now is AN ENTIRE SCHOOL YEAR. This is what makes me sad. It even said that she started a new semester of school. After summer. So, it is obvious why she has new teachers.
Lastly, the Rainbow Dash problem. Look, I have read two fics now that say when Dashie becomes a Wonderbolt, she changes. So, the general consensus is that she will. We are talking a heart's desire, here. A dream she had BEFORE she was loyal. She will do anything to please them, the Wonderbolts, and feed her ego. OOC? How the hell do we know! She had yet to even attain it in the show. So, really, saying it is OOC is you trying to say you KNOW she won't change. But you don't. No one knows. Not even the damn writer's know, probably (fingers crossed for season four). So, don't start with all of the crap about her being OOC. It angers me to no end that I see that so much.
But what I will credit you on is the lack of care the main 5 give to the problem. They push it aside, so it seems, and didn't do anything about it. Or so I think. Until Corejo says anything on the matter, your guess is as good as mine.
2780272
That's the part that always eats at me. The Mane Six are so non-challant, not only when their best friend "changes", but when their best friend emotionally devestates the best friend of two of their daughters. AJ at the very least should be furious as she has the strongest family values.
Go die in a fire
*cries*
Oh well, it's just Dash being Dash
It's okay, we'll throw Dash a party and invite Scootaloo to it!
Well I saw it coming, better luck next time Scootaloo.
This is fabulous! Now you'll have more time to play with Sweetie!
I have faith the the elements will unite, proclaim Scootaloo the new element of loyalty, and banish Dash to the moon!
2780324
No, no, you have it all wrong. It is like this
Go home, Scoot. I work alone...
*gets pissed and goes home to be better than her, after crying*
Yeah, yeah, you're sad. But what about your rainboom? *looks at her for an answer, then Scootaloo cries*
Dashie make you sad? DON'T WORRY! I will throw her a party!
This is normal ol' Dash for ya. You'll get used ta it.
Don't be sad, get Sweetie Belle!
And I would sure hope so as well. She is more loyal than... L-LOYALTY ITSELF!
2780324
Ten points for reference in mine ;)
2780173
Lol. Eh, it happens at times. But your points are relatively valid. Still, it's like Rarity's attitude in GGG. It took away any development she had.
2780394
Rarity seems to be like that is everything. Season three and now this. Honestly, I am sticking with it because I know there will be some sort of explanation behind it. But even if there wasn't, I wouldn't care so much. This story was built around Scootaloo, and as long as what happens directly to her is sound, it is no big deal.
But then I would be pushing aside bad writing, and I don't want to do that. But me caring is a hard thing to do with something like this. It is so minuscule in comparison to the entirety of the story.
2780441
Eh, I'm okay with season 3. I didn't know what to expect, so... I wasn't disappointed. And... well, I'm not rebuttaling. I'll still keep track of where this goes from here.
2772484
2774664
2780272
I didn't think I would have to point out the subtlety of the story's answer to this, but I guess I should:
They're dealing with it in their own way. We simply don't see it because this story is not about them.
2780951
Might I say that the fact I was able to remember all the other stuff that I proved that other guy wrong on was a miracle at best. I haven't slept at all reading this story to catch up (THANKS, MAN XP), so I just didn't notice it. Sorry :/
2780980
Yeah, remembering everything else was quite impressive!
2781012
Read meticulously, gain rewards endlessly
I can just see it now, Scoots wins the competition RD comes over to congratulate her and tell her that the meanness was just to give her a reason to work harder, then Scoots bucks her in the face and tells RD to fuck off.
It's time for Scoots to show up RD! I'm pulling for Scootaloo! I'm gonna go with the possibility that Scoots will tell RD off in the end. Rainbow Dash broke Scoots' heart, and I believe that after how badly RD hurt her...no words are going to fix a broken heart.
I highly doubt that Scoots will forgive Dash, but damn it, I want to see how that encounter will go!
2780324
Because I forgot to reply to you, here's a bump to my other comment:
2780951
2789929
We should make a little song:
Monday Monday Monday Monday Monday Monday Monday Monday Monday Monday Monday Monday
Scootaloo! Scootaloo!
Monday Monday Monday Monday Monday Monday Monday Monday Monday Monday Monday Monday
Scootaloo! Scootaloo!
Monday Monday Monday Monday Monday Monday Monday Monday Monday Monday Monday Monday
Panic it's Dash!—Dash! Dash! Oh, it's a Dash!
Can't wait for the final chapter. I already have my comment fingers warmed up.
2805599
Is it bad that I could tell exactly what the song was without clicking on the link?
My god, its all too much. I'm gonna hafta read the next chapter tomorrow. Thank you.
Well, she has been absorbing a tonne of lightning lately.
Speaking of: LIGHTNING CLOUDBURST RAINBOOM! Fk yeah!
One chapter remains. Come at me, sad tag. Do your worst.