//------------------------------// // School Day III // Story: Repercussions // by shallow15 //------------------------------// Beachberry smirked as she hit the “submit” button on her favorite Daring Do fan forum. A complete breakdown and analysis of the various easter eggs and call backs to other books in the series in the recent movie, including at least five she knew nobody else had spotted yet. The board would go nuts for it. And then go nuts again when they realized three of them she had completely made up. She pushed back from the desk and stretched her arms. Yes, it was a cheap gag, but by this point, she had a reputation on the board for this kind of elaborate trolling. She even had a small following who positively delighted in figuring out what was real and what she had made up. She pulled her three-toned hair (orange, pink, and purple in three parallel lines) out of its ponytail and ran her fingers through it, untangling the snarls. She adjusted the chain of the beach ball pendant around her neck, letting it rest on her pink tank top. She stood up and turned, getting an angry pink face right in her field of vision. “Gah!” Beachberry staggered back in surprise. “Pinkie Pie! You scared the crap out of me. What the hell?” Pinkie held out the email. “Why?” Beachberry took the email and looked down at it. I know you. I know what you really are, and everybody else does too. No one likes you. No one cares about you. Everyone at this school would be a whole lot happier if somebody just took a fire axe to your skull, then fed your brains to hungry dogs, then took what they crapped out and hurled it into an incinerator then took what was left, mixed it into a drink, swallowed it and pissed your remains into the sewer where you belong. Or you can save us all the trouble and go back to whatever bizzaro world you originally came from. You don't belong here. So leave. Or kill yourself. Either works for me. Hell, if you haven't got the guts to do that, reply to this email and let me know, and I'll be happy to put you out of our misery. Maybe I won't wait for you to reply. Beachberry looked up at the “From” field of the email, then handed it back to Pinkie Pie. “I didn't write this.” “Firecracker Burst says you did,” Pinkie replied. “Firecracker Burst is a goody two-shoes who can't mind her own damn business,” Beachberry snapped. She poked the paper in Pinkie's hands. “That's not my email or IP address. So as far as anyone can tell, I didn't send that email. Go bother somebody else.” Pinkie shoved the email back into her hair and folded her arms, her expression carefully blank. “Fine, you didn't write it,” she said. “Let's talk about something else. What happened that got you on Sunset Shimmer's bad side before the Fall Formal?” “Oh, is that what you want to know? Gee, let me just see if I can remember. Oh, right.” Beachberry's expression darkened. “It's none of your damn business!” Beachberry stepped forward and leaned in, causing Pinkie to take a step back. “What happened between me and Sunset Shimmer is between me and Sunset Shimmer. Nobody else. Not Firecracker Burst, not Principal Celestia, and sure as hell not you or your damn friends! I'd tell you to go ask her if you really want to know, but I guess that's not really an option, is it?” Beachberry turned away and grabbed her backpack from below the computer desk. She slung it over her shoulder and turned back to Pinkie Pie. “I don't know what happened to Sunset Shimmer,” she began. “I do know that I had nothing to do with it. And frankly, I could not care less whether she lives or dies. We're done here. Don't bother me again.” Beachberry shoved her way past Pinkie Pie and left the computer lab. She tried slamming the door on her way out, but the safety bar slowed the door down as she left. Pinkie let out a sigh and pulled out her phone. “Hey Rarity,” she said. “I found all three of them,but there's a couple of problems. Yeah. No, it's just weird. One doesn't seem to care, it looks like one of the others only sent it when she was drunk and angry, and the last one won't talk at all. Okay, see you then.” Pinkie ended the call, sighed again and walked out of the computer lab. Being a detective was hard. And depressing. Rarity made the call at lunch. “Hello?” came a bright voice. “Sour Sweet? It's Rarity.” “Oh, hi, Rarity! What's up?” “I wish I was calling for social reasons,” Rarity said. “But I'm afraid this isn't exactly going to be pleasant.” Rarity quickly explained what had happened to Sunset and their discovery of the scrapbook. “According to Twilight, one of the emails came from Crystal Prep's Chessblasters club. You wouldn't happen to know if anyone in that club is still holding a grudge from the Friendship Games, would you?” “Not offhand, but then, to be honest, there's a bunch of people here that still look down on the public school kids,” Sour Sweet's voice lowered. “Lamebrained close minded idiots.” Rarity stifled a giggle. She may have softened, but Sour Sweet's tendency to utter her true opinions of those around her out loud still hadn't changed. She regained her composure and spoke. “Is there any chance you could ask around and see if there's anyone who does have something against Sunset in the Chessblasters?” “Not me, but I think Sugarcoat's still a member. I could ask her to look into it.” “Sugarcoat?” Rarity blanched at the mention of the brutally honest and incredibly tactless CPA student. “Not to disparage her, you understand, but isn't it likely she might, well, scare off anyone she asks about this?” Sour Sweet let out a short laugh. “Believe me, she fits right in with the Chessblasters. I get what you're saying, but she's the only person I know who has any sort of contact with them. Even around here, the Chessblasters aren't exactly known for being social.” Rarity sighed. “All right, if you could arrange it, Sour, darling, I'd appreciate it.” “I'll call you after school and let you know,” Sour replied. “And Rarity?” “Yes?” “For what it's worth, I'm really sorry about what happened to Sunset. I hope she gets better soon.” “Thank you, Sour Sweet. I think I speak for all the girls when I say we appreciate it.” “I'll call you later.” “Thank you again. Goodbye.” Rarity ended the call and walked back to the lunch table where Twilight, Rainbow, Fluttershy, and Applejack were waiting. “Well?” Rainbow asked. “She's looking into it. Well, more accurately, Sugarcoat's looking into it.” “Oh great,” Rainbow groaned. “I'm sure THAT'S gonna go well.” “It's our only way to look into the message that came from Crystal Prep,” Applejack said. “We can't just ignore it.” “I know that, but jeez, it's Sugarcoat.” “I don't think she's so bad,” said Fluttershy. “A little blunt, but once you get to know her, like we did making the music video, she's actually pretty nice. Right, Twilight? Twilight?” Twilight made a non-committal noise, and crossed out some lines on one of the pieces of paper scattered around her, then reached for another one. She scanned it, crossed more lines out and put it on another stack. “Good thing we photocopied all those emails before we turned the scrapbook over to Principal Celestia,” Rainbow said. “The egghead's marking those up more than Ms. Harshwhinny does when I turn in my homework.” “Any progress, Twilight?” Applejack asked. Twilight didn't respond. “Twilight, darling?” Rarity said, trying to get the bespectacled girl's attention. “... cross-reference those three addresses with the ones in stack B...” Twilight muttered. “TWILIIIIIIIIGHT!” Rainbow yelled. The ambient noise in the cafeteria stopped immediately as everyone turned to look where the yelling had come from. Rainbow blushed and laughed nervously. “Ah... heheh... sorry,” she said. The rest of the students in the cafeteria went back to their conversations. Fortunately, the outburst had the desired effect. “Sorry,” Twilight said. “I got caught up in eliminating the duplicates. But there's another wrinkle.” “What do you mean?” Rarity said. “I'll still have to look more in depth at these when I get home, but if I'm right, it actually looks like almost half of these messages came from the same person. The IP and email addresses are different, but in terms of sentence structure, tone, and grammar, I'm pretty sure they were all written by the same person.” “How could they all have different IP addresses?” Rainbow asked. “Easily, if they connected a laptop to a bunch of different wi-fi networks around the city,” Twilight answered. “And it's easy enough to get several email accounts from different providers these days. But, like I said, it's the content of the messages that seem similar. I'm not sure how we can prove that they were written by the same person, but it should at least help us make sure we're on the right track and not chasing somebody who may not even exist.” “Well, don't forget we need to see if we can find any residual magic at the mall this afternoon, darling,” Rarity reminded. “I'll take you over to your house so you can get your equipment and we'll go.” “You guys mind if I tag along?” Rainbow asked. “AJ thinks somebody better let Sunset's boss know what happened.” “Good idea,” Rarity said. “We'll pick you up at the west entrance after school.” Rainbow nodded. “I hope we find something soon. I hate not being able to do anything.” “I know the feeling. Believe me.” Rarity slumped down on the bench and took out her phone. She looked at the photo of the seven of them that served as her wallpaper. Hang on, Sunset darling, she thought. We're getting closer. We'll find them, I promise.