It was like a cage.
One for gray rats, or shrunken mice, or innocent guinea pigs. You could feel the brisk, welcoming air outside just inches from your face, and you knew—you knew—that it was there, you could see it, but the walls around you, on top of you, below you, the ones that kept you in your chair... they kept you in. Locked you in. Dangled the key before your eyes and even faked a limp toss or two, laughing from deep within its gut as you floundered about, begging them to stop and to just let you flee. There were no bars, but there were inches of wooden beams, and insulation, and dried layers of paint because the painters did a bad job... they were what kept her in.
Her seat, as well. Itchy on her back and on her neck, causing her to scratch at both incessantly. The others nearby must have thought her filthy, like she hadn't showered in about two weeks, or two months, or two years. But she couldn't help it, the flooding of sweat down her face and her shoulders rubbing against the soft material to the point of agonizing sensation, and then she just couldn't keep still, and then everypony was probably pointing hooves at her and wondering where she'd possibly misplaced her ADHD pills within their angry, furious, terrifyingly enraged heads.
A square, brown room, with the only light being a straight yellow one peeking in through the half-drawn, slightly-angled curtains blocking any sign of contact she could possibly be keeping with the white clouds and the blue sky and the brown dirt and everything she was wholly yearning for at the second, and then the next second, and now every second because she just couldn't stop thinking about how choked up she was sitting inside this cage-like room with its wooden desk and its inoperable lamp and its itchy chairs and the sweat in her face and her mane against her forehead and her mane being long please cut it off!
No.
No, it wasn't like a cage!
It was a cage! Not for rats, or mice, or guinea pigs! One for a colorful parakeet, or a big ol' pupper, or a polar bear at the zoo! This wasn't a small cage! It was a massive one, just big enough for her to lull herself into believing that it wasn't there, but she knew that it was! It was all around her, waiting for her, with every breath, move, bond, and step of hers... watching her! They showed her the sky, and the ponies going out to lunch with big grins on their faces, and the trees and the grass and the rest of Ponyville's houses dotting the road up and down and left and right like pines on a trail, but not for her! None for her! This room, this... cage would keep her within its walls forever! A bad grade, or a tardy, or chains on her forelegs keeping her cuffed to the chair somepony please let her get out of her chair she couldn't bear sitting in it any longer! Her spine was chafing against it she was bound to develop something if she didn't get out of it!
Oh Gods but then she couldn't just say something! A ruler in his magic, or a marker in his hoof, or his eyes like slits! A response she'd never foresee but always regret witnessing; a horrible, horrible thing that could cost her her entire remaining school career! A send-off to another Academy, or back home, or as part of Ponyville High's Recycling Club! She couldn't do it, neigh, she couldn't bear it! The thought of it all was making her worry more and sweat harder and it was only making her chair worse and now she was fidgeting again she didn't have ADHD she swore! She swore on everything, and she'd give up anything just for them to know that this wasn't normal for her! She'd never been in a principal's office because she'd never had one at her boarding school! She'd never had to sit down and anticipate a single pony's response that could end up ruining her forever!
The principal! He had to know, he just had to know that she wasn't a troublemaker! She was a good pony, a reaaaaally good pony! She was best pony, as a matter of fact! Yeah! Best pony! Duck Bill! Prim, and proper, and polite, and a pony! So, best pony! She was kind, and honest, and loyal, and generous, and funny, and wonderful! Who couldn't love Duck Bill, oh that Duck Bill there she is again, giving sick ponies Get Well Soon cards and showering her friends with love and affection and buying out dog pounds and maybe a cat pound too oh that Duck Bill, she really is best pony!
"Duck Bill?"
She straightened in her chair.
A hoof went to her mouth, and she used it to clear her own, deathly quivering throat.
"Yes, sir?"
"Today is the first day of school."
Yes! The first day of school! The day you were supposed to be getting back into the swing of things, like getting up early, and getting to school early and not hanging out in the schoolyard, and finding new friends, and being kind to everypony, and not getting involved with anypony because being by yourself was the only real way to achieve perfection because otherwise what if somepony you knew got sick and then you couldn't help them or they moved or they thought something you said was crass and then what if you didn't have a way to fix it at least by herself she was safe in insulting whoever she pleased even if it was her!
"Yes, sir," Duck quaked, a wave passing over her forelegs and resurging again in an instant.
"The first day of school..." the Principal repeated, his hooves pressed against one another and framing his old, wrinkled face like a still-shot in an old B-movie what was that one called, "...and you have a fight."
"Sir, if I may..."
The Principal raised a hoof up almost immediately.
Flurry Heart, light blue eyes almost green in the light of the sun, flexed her chin and took a step back.
"I'm to assume that it was Mocha Frappe and Star Burst here who started it. Am I correct?"
Duck almost jumped at the chance to jump at the chance and point hooves—no, one hoof, idiot—at the two Unicorns crossing forelegs and glaring straight ahead, embarrassed and upset for the wrong reasons. She wiped the excite from her face and kept her peace.
It was Arco who spoke next, apparently making contact with one of the two as his response, "Yes it was, sir," was punctuated by a short, "Hey!"
Arco, you brave soul. If only she could be like him, except without the stallion thing and the other things but mostly the stallion thing she just knew that he had a lot of gusto for doing what she couldn't but she was sure somepony else would have done the same.
The Principal simply shook his head.
"Not surprising."
"Principal Cheese, come on!" Mocha suddenly barked, sitting up in his chair and causing Duck to shrink down in hers. He regarded Duck with a pair of narrowed orange eyes, gritted his teeth, and flung a foreleg her way like he was showing a dog what it had just done to the carpet no it's okay puppy we'll clean it up oh Gods please no! "That's... the Duck Bill!" She snapped out of her musings to shortly wish she were back in them, shying away from the accusing hoof. "One of Pumpkin Bread's daughters! You know, the Pumpkin Bread and Pumpkin Seed who've made us lose every year?!"
That wasn't true! It wasn't true! They couldn't have been the only reason Ponyville lost! Her family alone wasn't to blame!
Cheese's first word caused Duck to flinch and almost spasm in her seat. "Tankery aside, Mocha... this young mare is a student at our school, and should be treated as such... in the right way." Cheese flailed a hoof like he had a hangnail. "Not by your... 'alpha dog' ideals."
Mocha balked. Arco let out a little snicker. Flurry spewed a cute giggle.
At that, Cheese turned in his seat to face Duck Bill. "Now, may I be the first to properly welcome you to Ponyville High, Duck Bill. I assure you, your encounters with these two ruffians will only last these next two years, if even in a blue moon." He smiled. "Trust me, they'll still be here when you leave." There was a pregnant pause, one that Duck wished she had actually taken advantage of to say something or thank Principal Cheese or scream, but he cut her off by rising from his seat and elicting thousands of pops and snaps in his old back that he apparently didn't notice or care for. "Now, off you go. I'll deal with these four, but you better hurry and get an elective form before it's too late."
Four? There were only the two. Mocha and Star Burst. Who... no!
"No!"
This sudden outburst seemed to have surprised Principal Cheese, it appeared, as he widened his eyes and craned his neck back like she bore pink eye. Which she didn't. Also she just realized she was standing up on her hindlegs, hooves planted firmly on the Principal's desk. Noticing herself, she willed her forelegs to move off the clunky old table and join their cousins pleasantly on the wooden floorboards, but found that they remained where they were, defiantly.
Even Arco and Flurry Heart both were staring at her oddly.
Oh Gods she'd just screwed up didn't she? Again!
Cheese adjusted his glasses. "Continue, young mare."
Duck looked to her right. Mocha and Star glared sharp, pointy, oh-Gods-was-that-blood, jagged daggers at her. She panned to her left. Arco and Flurry were giving her straight faces, as if they had been both anticipating and taking their proposed punishment in stride. Was this usual for them?
She faced the Principal.
"Arco and Flurry had nothing to do with anything, sir! They were minding their own business until Mocha made a row!"
Cheese raised an eyebrow.
"They were just trying to get their elective forms, and Mocha and Star picked Arco out from the crowd! He and Flurry didn't do a thing!" She minded herself again. "Uh, sir!" Oh Gods she was getting all sweaty again and this time there was no chair what was she saying did she really think Principal Cheese would let all three of them go after that somepony had to stay with the wreckage they were expecting one of them in it would he expel any of them no no that was bad in case of any of the four!
It was quiet again, letting the sounds just outside the closed door behind the five suddenly appear and strengthen in a matter of seconds. Disfigured conversations followed the silhouettes of pony pairs trotting past the Principal's Office, unaware of the grave, dire events that were taking place within it, within the cage that so very much threatened to smother her by simple proximity and–
"Arco Piano?"
"Yes, sir?"
Cheese looked at Flurry.
"Flurry Heart?"
"Yes, sir."
Cheese looked at Duck.
"Duck Bill?"
"...yes sir?"
The Principal's cheeks bunched up, and he waved a hoof toward the door.
"You three may go."
Oh thank Zacherle.
"Thank you, Principal Cottage Cheese," went Arco as Duck wrestled the door open. Flurry, taking note of Arco's farewell, mimicked him.
"Thank you, sir!"
Duck, almost forgetting to do the same... did the same, and twisted about like an arthritic snake to chime in with her own, only managing to sputter out, "Thank you Princip– wooooaaaah!"
Her incomparable skills at Coil came to her in a flash, completely unwanted and appearing at literally the worst time ever. Her hoof, previously pushing the golden doorknob, slipped on something and sent her tumbling down to the tiled, swept floors of the main hallway. At once, the dull brown and urine yellow light gave way to artificial whites and drab tan walls, mixing in with the pain that was accentuating her jawline at the moment. A day and night comparison, she noted, that she was more than a little bit happy to have at the end of the day. A pair of ponies—what seemed to be a couple, if their awkward movement looked to be any telltale sign—walked past Duck without even batting an eyelash, discussing their "make-out spot" and if they wanted to "go and roll in the hay" later, which sounded like it would itch a lot and not be as fun as it sounded.
Her brain sloshed around the rather murky waters it was riding through, turning her brain upside down, right-side up, and all over the place.
A blue hoof materialized in her blurred vision, grabbing at her right foreleg. A pink hoof enlisted and yanked her up by her left one.
Duck swiftly stumbled onto all four hooves and shook her head to rid the stars dancing in an orbit around her. Blinking away the crude hallway that met her, she found proper clarity and about jumped back at the sight of two ponies staring at her oddly from, pretty much, inches from the end of her snoot. Flailing about like she had found her way onto a lake of cold ice, Duck tripped on a hindleg and almost crumpled once more, only saved by the quick hooves of Arco, Flurry, and their little laughs of apparent enjoyment at Duck's close spills.
"Careful there, mare!" Flurry began, dusting Duck's school jacket off for her and profoundly banishing the clouds of brown that blew away. "Keep doin' that and you'll end up with a broken leg!"
Duck managed a smile, albeit crooked, like a bridge she'd probably build if she enrolled in Construction.
She probably shouldn't enroll in Construction.
"Th- thank you, two," Duck sputtered, clearing her throat and attempting to maintain a bare minimum level of finesse.
Arco threw his head back and bellowed. "Ha! It's you we should be thanking! We would've gotten an earful for sure if you hadn't said anything!"
Duck raised an eyebrow. "Would the Principal really do that?"
Flurry shook her head, and a hoof. "No, he meant Mocha and Star Burst. They definitely wouldn't have shut up as long as we were in that line."
"'We?'" Arco questioned, turning to the whoa was Flurry an Alicorn?! WHAT?! "You literally could've kept to yourself and they wouldn't have said a thing to you!"
"Well," Flurry, the... Alicorn... huffed, "that's just not my style." The frown turned upright. "Plus, it's always nice to make a new friend."
"Speaking of which..." Arco trailed off, turning at the waist along with Flurry to face Duck Bill.
Flurry presented a hoof immediately. Duck flinched, face awash in a tsunami, but realized the actual intentions and shook it with her face burning brightly.
"I'm Flurry Heart," Flurry told her, striking a pose and wrinkling her white collared shirt and black tie underneath her jacket. Was that a required part of the uniform? Duck hadn't read that part.
A blue hoof shot her way. Duck understood it this time more quickly than she had the last, and shook it with a wobble still plaguing her bones.
"And I'm Arco Piano."
Duck's right eye scrunched. "I'm Duck Bill."
His hoof returning to the ground where it belonged, "You wanna go get some lunch?"
It was lunch already? The visit to the Principal's Office had taken up her entire first half of the day?!
Flurry bumped Arco's side, "I guess I'm a bit curious what the school-famous Arco eats. I always pictured washers and napalm."
"School-famous?" Arco asked, turning around and beginning to head toward the commons. Flurry, beckoning Duck with a quiet, insistently shaking hoof, followed right behind him. Duck, scurrying along as quickly as she could, took up temporary residence by Flurry's side. "What kind of stuff do they say about me?"
Flurry gave Duck a telling look and rolled her eyes. "Ponies mostly talk about your dog. Sorry to disappoint."
Arco snorted. "Oh, you didn't. My dog is way cooler than I am."
Duck scrunched up her nose, minding the small quintet of—clearly—Freshmen that stormed past her playing some kind of game, expletives flying from their lips and their little hooves causing a hurricane of clips and clops that echoed through the hallway even after they'd disappeared from sight.
"So, Duck Bill," Flurry addressed her, oddly speaking her name like she was afraid to so much as utter it, "what do you wanna eat?"
"Hear the cafeteria's serving hayburgers for the first day," Arco added, licking his lips.
She hadn't had a hayburger in far too long a time. She beamed. "That... that sounds good!"
Flurry nodded hurriedly as Arco whinnied. "Awesome! All right, to the cafeteria!"
Taking a sudden right and pushing open a set of doors that cachunked at the contact, both Flurry and Arco seemed to be completely undeterred by the eruption of noise that blasted into Duck's eardrums. The massive commons of Ponyville High, reaching high, high up about twenty or thirty feet, showered the impossibly dense crowd of ponies trotting, levitating, and flying around in a shimmering sunlight from the glass dome protecting them from the rays. A staircase, double-sided, led up to the second floor of the school, with what looked to be an elevator shaft separating the two in a symmetrical bisection. The library windows, in intervals along the leftmost wall Duck and the others were now walking away from, showed a different faction of the school that simply wanted to sit down in peace and read a nice book or two.
The three of them passed by little collections of students talking to each other as if they were miles apart.
"...yeah, and I swear she thought she was right–"
"...we gotta head out quick if we wanna go grab a bite at McDuckle's!"
"Just another year, huh?"
"–hey shut up! That's my word!"
"Coming through!"
Flurry sidestepped. Arco jumped away, left legs splayed in the air. Duck fell to her stomach.
A Pegasus hopped over Duck's body, a brown paper bag grasped under her wing. Greeting and parting Duck with a wink and a quick salute, she sped away and turned a corner. Hot on the Pegasus' heels was a Unicorn mare, her navy and light blue mane whipping her face as she opted on teleporting past the obstruction of ponies in her way. Reappearing a bare inch or two behind Duck, she popped her neck with a disgustingly volumetric snap and stomped away after her prey. Duck, shaking her head and ascending, barely caught Flurry and Arco giving each other quiet eye rolls before continuing on with their movement.
"Say, Duck..."
She looked up, like a dog after hearing its name called, with all the confusion to boot.
"What is it, Arco?"
"What electives are you looking to take this year?"
Anything but Tankery. Anything but Tankery.
"I... I don't know, yet," she admitted, tugging on her bag, "I guess I'd have to see the list, first."
"What do you take, Arco?"
He blew a raspberry that apparently landed on a Sophomore, who wiped his face and scowled at the passing Earth Pony. Duck's hoof went up to help her voice a massive amount of apologies, but, after barely catching herself in yet another tumble, she decided against it. "Pfft. Music."
"Whaddyou play?" Flurry asked, screwing up her face. "Trumpet? Double bass?"
Arco's smile wobbled. "Middle ground. I'm a hardcore percussionist. What about you, Princess' daughter? You going to join Economics this year and run the Crystal Empire?"
"Nah," Flurry replied, flailing a hoof and masterfully keeping step, "I'd like to try Pottery this year."
"Really." His response was more an answer than it was a question.
"Already tried everything else," she began, horn lighting up and causing a collection of soda droplets—having been unleashed from a nearby colt's cola—to halt in midair. She let go of them without even batting an eyelash or breaking a step, "I think making a nice bowl would be a relaxing change of pace for my Junior year."
"Look at you, Miss Overachiever."
Flurry bumped him with a hoof.
They'd barely known each other before today, and yet here they were prodding each other and making jokes.
Was this how easy it was to make friends in high school?
"Quack quack!" Went somebody to her right. Duck turned as she continued onward. A trio of Unicorns—what looked like Seniors—pursed their lips and made the noise again.
So much for that.
Walking up along Flurry's side once more—because, honestly, she felt a lot safer doing so—she almost snapped her neck in response to the intercom's deafening white noise.
CRKKT!
"All students, please gather in the cafeteria! The class speakers have an important announcement to make!"
Pause.
"All students, please gather in the cafeteria," the announcer repeated, apparently realizing she'd need to say it twice before the population got the message, "the class speakers have an important announcement to make. Thank you."
CRKKT!
Duck slowly let her raised foreleg clop back onto the floor, and found Arco and Flurry giving each other—and her—curious looks.
"You think they're finally opening up another fast food chain here?" Flurry asked, raising up a hoof and flicking it toward the cafeteria's way. At once, as if on cue, much of the crowd stopped whatever it was they were doing and began the trot across the commons. She looked at Arco, letting him know it was directed at him.
"Probably not. I think WichWay is doing just fine." He swiveled his head about and stared at Duck. "Duck, you're new here. What do you think is happening?"
Oh Gods they're looking at you, dumb-dumb! Think of something! Should she go witty or factual? Which would they prefer? A cheap laugh would be enough to sate her, but giving them new knowledge was good too! Maybe she could impress them, as the new mare in school, by saying something they didn't know!
"Uh..."
A small pony body bumped into Duck, causing her to move a bit to her left. Another grazed her left shoulder, prompting her to move right. Another almost tackled her, but issued an apology and fled. Another darted over her head, hit a nearby vending machine thanks to her juvenile wings, and puttered away. Another stopped, looked Duck right in the eyes, raised her hooves over her head, and did a flaccid cartwheel for no discernible reason whatsoever, about falling on her face but cantering into the flood of ponies before she made contact. Duck narrowed her gaze.
Flurry grabbed Duck's hoof—actually more her jacket's sleeve than anything else—and snatched her forward. "Guess we'll have t' find out! Come on, Duck!"
Like the silver cases of oiled sardines defiling every prior school lunchtime of her life, what seemed to be the entire population of Ponyville High rambunctiously moved at a Churchill pace, like Manehattan traffic during rush hour on a Friday. The voices, screams, yells, and even singing blended together to brandish an incomprehensible blizzard of noise, almost putting Duck into a dizzied spell thwarted only by Flurry's hoof still pulling her by the sleeve.
Seemingly caught with their pants down, scattered pockets of Pegasi streaked in through the mechanically opened front doors, probably having rushed back inside on their way to lunch due to the announcement. Holstering their wings by their sides and hopping into line, they filed in with the rest of the lot and crammed into the school cafeteria, where Duck, Arco, and Flurry finally pushed their way into.
Duck was more than certain that the amount of people occupying the room exceeded the safe, restricted number hanging near the entrance on the little golden plaque. What were they going to do in case of a fire?
A few hooves lightly tapped at her back. Reddening, Duck scooted forward from her standstill and accompanied Arco and Flurry as they tried to find a few seats for them to sit together with. The proposed seats were not, as she'd prior thought, part of the actual lunch tables she'd expected to be here. Instead, rows and rows and rows of fold-out chairs sat neatly in the cafeteria, all facing the high-risen, wood-accentuated stage near the back like a cinema. A white canvas hung way low from the ceiling above it.
Flurry's voice, far more familiar and thus infinitely clearer than the rest, reached her ears. "They've got the screen down," she said, like she didn't understand what she'd just said.
Screen? Like a projector screen?
Were they watching a movie?
"Ooh, a movie!" Arco quipped, rubbing his hooves together and adjusting himself in his seat. Flurry took hers, trying her hardest to get comfortable on the itchy fabric all too familiar to Duck. Duck herself stood in front of her chair like it was a toilet, sank like a submersible, and placed butt to "cushion" with her hindlegs, straight as an arrow, dangling over the front. Arco gave her a weird look; Flurry, turning her head as well, mouthed something to herself. Placing her forelegs in her lap, Duck whipped her mane about and screwed with it idly, the sea of students still pouring in from the right side behind her.
A small, "Shh!" was issued by one of the older stallions Duck recognized as a teacher, escalating rapidly until it sounded like the entire room was engaging in the subtle warning. A lone mare, previously motionless next to a large black box near the stage, leaned over to her mechanic companion and hit something.
The lights went out in an instant, and the result was just the same.
Everybody screamed.
Gods, they had that here, too? Yelling at flicked switches was such a grade school thing to do, wasn't it?
A roundabout of, "Shh!" went... about, again. It was like the panic had never happened.
The screen, having sat patiently in the dark while everypony lost their minds, suddenly lit up with white, crackling and moving around in minor adjustments before finally stopping once it found a good position. Four black circles took up each corner of the screen with numbers lining their insides, and a single, much lighter circle took up residence in the middle. Right in the center of it, the number 5 was displayed, which ticked down to a 4 accompanied by a loud beep, then to a 3, to a 2, and then to a 1 before the entire scene faded away into darkness, shrouding the crowd once more.
Duck's breathing grew shakier.
After what seemed to be an eternity passed—and the crowd began mumbling that something had gone wrong—a terrifyingly boisterous, deafeningly powerful horn section blasted from the speakers with long, short, and then long notes that settled into a steady beat. At once, a grassy landscape with oak trees, sunflowers, blue mountain peaks, and small hills appeared. The music continued for three whole seconds before something rolled through that made Duck shiver.
A Griffonian Panzer IV, its blue-gray exterior shimmering in the sunlight, created a twin pair of dirt trails in its wake, disturbing the peace—and the healthy grass—with a gurgling, growling whirrrrrrrrr as it moved onward. Two more tanks, a Crumphill Matilda and an Equestrian M3 Lee, turned into the frame as well like scissors, stuttering about for a few brief seconds, and then following the Panzer IV on parallel lines next to and behind it.
The camera changed, showing a side view of all three tanks and their top turrets. The M3 and the Matilda pulled up alongside the Panzer IV, making a line from the top of the screen to the bottom composed of light tans, blue-grays, and foliage greens. As if on cue, the cupolas popped up with an admittedly satisfying BREEE THUNK!, pursued alarmingly immediately by three pairs of forelegs that hoisted up a little pony head each. With frowns on their lips and eyes in slits, they moved forward in their own silence as the horns continued blaring what Duck recognized as a Griffonian marching tune about some kind of flower.
The pony in the middle, reaching up to her head, fumbled with her black garrison cap and pulled out a sizable map. She studied it like a book as the M3's Commander grasped at something beneath her and whipped out a pair of binoculars, putting them up to her eyes and leaning a tad forward in her position. The Matilda's Commander, eyeing up her comrades, thumped the area around her cupola to the beat of the song. The tank's turret, previously glaring straight ahead, swiveled about slowly and aimed a tad toward the middle of their trio.
Jarringly, the camera changed once more, depicting the front quarter view of a Yakyakistani T-34/76, its rather short barrel finishing its spin and firing at something out of frame, rocking back onto its rear from the blast that shook the walls around the cafeteria. Duck, realizing she hadn't been breathing the whole time, sucked in a breath like she'd almost drowned. Flurry rose from her seat, alarmed, but sat back down when she realized everything was at least moderately okay with her friend.
A building popped up on screen with another perspective change, one of its corners being the focus. An Equestrian T23, ambling along the dirt road surrounding the establishment, reached the end of the side it was hugging. Slowly, above the newly transitioned music—composed of quick trumpets and beat-keeping hooves—a roaring engine crescendoed, reaching a climax as a light blue Feenuhlay BT-42 emerged from the bushes on the opposite side of the corner, drifted around it like a racecar complete with kicked up dirt, fired into the T23's side, and skidded away, leaving a white flag that popped up next to the unfortunate tank's cupola with a resounding SHHFICK!
About twenty young mares—Pegasi, Unicorns, and Earth Ponies alike—in five by four rows, keeled at a count of three and raised their hooves up in a salute, Equestria's light blue flag waving proudly behind them all. Suddenly, they were hopping into their tanks, taking up positions behind their periscopes, in front of their radios, picking up a shell with their gloves, and grasping the gear shifters. The Commanders faces were zoomed in on as they took their places and put on their headsets.
A light purple Pegasus, her blue eyes glistening.
A gray Pegasus, fastening her longcoat's buttons.
A red Unicorn, her brown mane—wrapping around her neck—tied at the end by a green ribbon.
A yellow Pegasus, a hoof adjusting the olive-colored crusher cap keeping her electric, blue hair in check.
A pale orange Earth Pony, who simply smiled at the camera.
Duck froze.
A few voices croaked from the crowd.
"Pumpkin Seed..."
"Gods, it's Pumpkin."
"Of course she's in this."
The rears of four tanks—ones she couldn't really identify, save for the obvious Crumphill Valentine Mark III's—bellowed and grumbled before leaving what looked to be a red brick garage one at a time. A birds-eye view, clearly taken from a stable Pegasus flying above, showed the four tanks either slowing down or keeping their speed to form a left-side echelon as textbook as they came. The front of Pumpkin Seed's tank, the Valentine, was displayed, the other three team members out of focus until Pumpkin herself popped out of her cupola. Looking behind her, and smiling at the other now wide-opened hatches, she faced forward, stared at the camera, and raised a hoof, ending the video with a triumphant, "Mount up!" that echoed and reappeared thanks to on-screen text that shook violently by the letter against an orange, black-shadowed splash.
The cafeteria found darkness once more, and the lights were flicked on to the overwhelming cheers and ovation emerging from the crowd inhabiting it. Duck, rotating about in her chair frantically, couldn't believe her ears or her eyes.
A hoof came to rest on her left hindleg, and she glanced down at it with her teeth crushing her bottom lip to find Flurry giving her a quiet stare. Duck, letting out a long breath, sat back down and pursed her lips. Flurry removed her leg from its place.
The applause and whooping still stronger than ever, six tall, clearly older mares ascended the stage's side stair, lining up in a row and standing at attention, all four hooves on the ground.
The subordinates, all noticing the six at different but still relatively close times, lowered their voices and gave them their peace.
One in the middle, her dark purple hair in a pair of braided buns, brought a loudspeaker from out of nowhere and raised it in front of her face.
"Who here thought that that was the coolest thing ever?!"
The students rose from their seats and roared their approval.
"Any ponies out there love the sound of that cannon?!"
Again, they came.
"How about that Pumpkin Seed?! Isn't she the best?!"
A few voices stuttered out dumb little noises, but, otherwise, the room was dead quiet.
Duck shrank in her seat.
The mare continued as if she had heard an enormous ruckus. "We're your Senior Class Speakers, and we're here t'day to let you all in on a liiiiiittle secret!"
"This'll be good..." Flurry murmured, causing Duck to look at her, screw up her face, and look back onstage.
"It's not wrong to say that Ponyville is one of the best towns in Equestria!" The speaker began pacing around in short steps. "Manehattan may have their dumb skyscrapers; Las Pegasus may have their casinos; Canterlot may have their elites!" She halted and turned on a dime to face her floor. "But Ponyville? We have the Elements of Harmony! We have the saviors of the country! Weee have the greatest main characters in the world!"
Huh?
"Isn't it only right that we have the best Tankery team, as well?"
Whoops and hollers once again. The speaker hummed to herself, apparently satisfied, and looked back up at the projector screen above her head.
A Griffonian StuG III, wielding a light tan and yellow camouflage, appeared in a flash.
"Those griffons have got some pretty mean tanks!" She shouted, pulling out a telescoping stick and thunking it against the canvas. "But mean tanks are nothing without a meaner crew to operate them!"
She collapsed the stick with a hoof against the stage floor, put it into the waiting hooves of the Unicorn next to her, and shoved the newly freed appendage out across the room.
"We need you, Ponyville High! Sign up for Tankery this year, and let's end those mean birds' streak once and for all!"
"Wewwww!"
"Yeah!"
"Woot woot!"
"Whooooooo!"
"Wort wort wort!"
The speaker, letting out a little, "Wew!" of her own as she tossed back her mane and wiped her forehead, tossed the loudspeaker to the Pegasus at her right, who brought it up to her mouth in one swift motion and flicked the button.
"We understand that there are other classes that appeal to you this year, some more than others! Pottery upstairs! Engineering in the back! Welding by Mr. Bon's room! Economics near the east staircase!"
Another toss. Another catch. This time an Earth Pony a bit on the skinny side crackled, "But we need all the help we can get! That's why we're giving you all a few... incentives, to join Tankery!"
The first one grabbed the loudspeaker when it was flung her way. "One!" She began, raising up a hoof. "Thanks to a good few harvests over at our very own Sweet Apple Acres, we're proud to give you free meals!"
The students stomped their hooves, creating an indoors thunderstorm.
Arco, meanwhile, was less than impressed. He shrugged. "Eh, I don't like carrot cake anyway."
Flurry nodded, droning a note.
"Two!" She continued. One of the ponies next to her raised their hoof in kind. "Extra credits!"
At that, as if he had had water in his mouth—which apparently he did—Arco spat onto the ground and whispered a sharp, "What?!" as the crowd around them bumbled to one another like a hive.
"Three!" Another hoof. "Secret prizes!" Waves of "ooh's" and "ah's" went around like a bad habit. "And, man, doesn't that sound enticing?!"
A toss. A catch. "Make this year the winning one, Ponyville! Make sure to put a check next to Tankery on your elective forms!"
A snatch. A glare. "Thank you! That is all!"
The six seniors stalked off the stage briskly as the rapid conversations of the newly adrenalized students returned once more, accompanying the sounds of squeaking chairs and clip-clopping hooves.
Duck didn't realize she had zoned out until Flurry scoffed next to her, "As if an incentive would be enough to make me do that."
Arco spoke, cracking his back, "Those extra credits are making me jealous, but Tankery's no guy's sport. I'd rather do Music, anyway."
"Yeah, seriously," she swore she heard Flurry reply, whipping her mane around and mindlessly tussling it, "they may get the Freshmen all hyped up, but us Juniors are a lot smarter than that. Most of us are already on track to graduate anyway!"
"Most of us," Arco echoed with a laugh, shaking his head.
B-RIIIIING!
Flurry leaned her neck back and groaned at the ceiling. "They made us skip lunch!"
"Dammit! I wanted to go grab a burger, too!"
"Ugh..." Flurry whinnied, tracing a circle on the floor. "Guess we might as well get our elective forms before next period. We've got a few minutes anyway."
"Come on, Duck!" Arco beckoned her, "We've gotta beat the crowd if we wanna get the classes we want!"
Grasping her bag, Duck steadied herself, cleared her throat, and trailed behind Arco and Flurry as they fled the cafeteria.
She was still shaking as she sat down at her next class—AP Calculus—and lay her elective form out in front of her. Students loosely piled into the classroom from the door on the complete opposite side of where she'd hidden herself, talking up a storm about what they'd all just witnessed. Directing her attention away from the rowdy hallway and staring at her new piece of paper, Duck got a pencil out from her bags and placed it alongside the sheet.
She'd come here to get away from Tankery, and yet here it was being shoved back into her face with the force of a HEAT shell.
No. No, that may have been a fluke, but she'd be seeing no more of the class. If there was another assembly, she'd hide in the bathroom and prop her hindlegs up on the seat. If ponies talked about it, she'd drown them out with a whistling version of Crumphill Grenadiers. If she caught sight of them rolling out along the field past the second-floor window, she'd ask to close the curtains, or simply turn away. She'd have none of it all. Today was the last day she'd even look at a tank.
Closing her eyes, sucking in and expelling a breath, and opening them once more, Duck stared down at her elective form and studied what she saw. Quickly, subconsciously, as if automatically, she picked up her pencil in her teeth and crossed out Tankery at the top of the list. Smiling, she was free to peruse the rest of her choices in peace.
Creative Writing? Was that just making up stories as a class? Was that really an option?
She pursed her lips and shook her head. She wasn't all too good at a typewriter anyhow.
How about Pottery? She could pray she'd get into the same class as Flurry Heart and talk with each other as Flurry made a bowl and Duck made a... pile.
Maybe no.
Economics? No.
Music? It was a bit too late to learn an instrument. And Arco seemed content enough to busy himself and only himself with the class.
Art? That could be a contender.
Aviation. She wasn't a stallion. She moved on.
Survival? What could be out there in the horrible, horrible wilds of downtown Ponyville that could hurt her? No thanks.
She skipped over the next one, already feeling a sickening sensation bubbling up in her brain at the sight of the two words.
Engineering? She wasn't sure she could muster dealing with all the wires, and it probably got incredibly difficult down the line.
Construction? She'd make terrible bridges.
Her eyes, blinking away a small twinge of pain, wandered back up to Art. She hadn't even seen the rest of the list, but she couldn't quite stop looking at the three-letter word.
Art. Did that include painting? She'd always... been kind of interested in that. Oil paints, watercolor, phthalo green, cadmium yellow and all that.
She sat back in her seat as the teacher watched the last student stream in. A smile graced her lips.
Art. Peaceful, quiet, supportive. A good environment with, she hoped, good music flowing in from the very hipster-like teacher's gramophone.
Art.
She took her pencil in her teeth, leaned forward, and scratched a checkmark in the box next to Art.
Placing it into her bag, Duck straightened her posture in her seat, ignored the weird stares of the ponies in the same aisle as her, and listened as the teacher rose from her stool and clapped her hooves together jubilantly.