//------------------------------//
// Cutie Mark Crusader Dance Champions 
// Story: The Lost Crusades 
// by Sixes_And_Sevens 
//------------------------------//

Sing, O Muses, of an uncomplicated colt. Sing of a child, loving but thoughtless, cheerful but vague. Sing us the tale of the fifth to join the Crusade, of the gentle one, of the innocent, of the wondering. Tell of his noble quests with his fellows, aye, but tell us first of the quest which united them all… 

The arcade was pandaemonium, full of flashing lights and arcane symbols. Foals sat the arrays of wooden boxes, each focused intently at a screen, each screen displaying a simple pixel illustration, brightly colored and brilliant. Behind each display, another array, made of thin, rotating towers and carefully punched cards; the difference engine of Babble and Lace Love given new life as a plaything, a marvel of modern engineering.

In the center of it all, there had sat a void. One single, central space, empty of light and sound. A blank wall. Nature abhorring a vacuum as it does, all eyes were on the empty place. It had been sitting there for a week, after Blue Sawblade Hedgehog Hunts for Treasure and Fights Robots had broken down. Rumours had been going around town for weeks about what would replace it. Would it be a puzzle game? (Twilight Sparkle’s fervent hope.) Would it be an adventure game with lots of running? (Rainbow Dash’s plea) Perhaps it would be a game with lots of cute and fluffy animals who run a town? (Not naming any names, but hers starts with an ‘F’ and rhymes with “Butter pie”). Everypony had their own hopes and dreams about the game, and though they knew that most of those dreams would be unfulfilled, they dreamed nonetheless.

The takeaway here is that Ponyville is a town always ready to grab onto the nearest fad and hang on for all it was worth, and it was a town where gossip was more circulated than library books, to the mild chagrin of Twilight Sparkle. For the last week, the rumours had circulated about the mysterious new game, ranging from Lyra’s insistence on a fantasy RPG to Lily’s nightmare-situation “Ponybius” to Pinkie Pie’s enthusiastic hope for something with lots of lights and bells and whistles and a big mallet to whack at it and a big red button!

So it was with no small amount of curiosity that the ponies of Ponyville regarded the large curtain placed over the void, no small amount of wariness that the two bulky ponies in suits that guarded said curtain regarded the crowd, and with no small amount of trepidation that the arcade’s owner, Bell Whistle, stepped out in front of it. A wave of silence spread through the arcade. Bell swallowed hard and adjusted his glasses. “H-hem,” he muttered, glancing down at the floor. He was not good at public speaking, having been born with nothing more than a desire to be left alone, only amplified by the awkwardness of his gangly frame and a preference for quiet reading or gaming over playing outside. Adulthood, a few good friends, and some therapy sessions had helped him avoid going completely boneless at the sight of a crowd, but he still tended to make Fluttershy look garrulous in comparison.

“H-hem,” Bell said again. The crowd stared, patient. He shoved his glasses up his nose once more and looked at his notecards. “Good morning,” he said. “I’m so very glad to see so many of you here.” He did not look up. He did not dare to, lest he lose his nerve entirely. “As many of you are aware, we have recently had to remove a machine from the Ponyville Arcade due to some glitches in its system, such as poor graphics, bad memory, the game coming out to invade the town, fluctuating volume, and ultimately, exploding after being hit by the Elements of Harmony, as many of you are aware. While management wishes that they had been able to fix the game rather than causing its total annihilation, we wish to extend our thanks to Applejack, Rarity Belle, Rainbow Dash, Fluttershy, Pinkie Pie, and Twilight Sparkle, as well as to Spike for helping to clean up the spillage of Entropy Sapphires from the game.”

“They tasted delicious!” a young voice called from the general direction of Princess Rescuer 9000.

Bell fumbled his cards. “Er, yes. I’m sure. While we were all very sad to see the old machine go, I believe I speak for all of us in arcade management in saying that I hope you will all enjoy this new game, generously purchased for us by the Rich Family of Barnyard Bargains, and I believe I speak for all of us in arcade management. Now, here to say a few more words, Filthy Rich himself.”

Bell hastily absented center stage, rushing straight past the nonplussed Mr. Rich. The businesspony took a moment to straighten his tie, then trotted out to center stage himself.  He smiled at the assembled. “Good morning, everypony,” he said, glancing around. “As the good Mr. Whistle has said, Barnyard Bargains has indeed found a little something to fill in that empty slot in the arcade. I know you’re all curious to know just what it is, so I’ll try not to carry on for too long.” He winked. “Sorry folks, but this cutscene can’t be skipped.”

Good-natured chuckles washed up from the crowd. “That said, I would like to say just a couple words about why we’ve done this. As it happens, my daughter is the one to thank for this little addition. She saw it on a trip up to Windy City a few years back, and always wanted to see one in Ponyville. Well, I took a turn on it myself, and I can’t say I disagreed with her. When I heard about the vacancy in here, I thought, well, why not get my little Diamond a present that she can share with all of Ponyville? So, without any further ado!” He nodded to the security pony on the right, who pulled on the curtain’s cord. “Jig, Jig, Innovation!”

It was big. It was shiny. There were tubes of magically-lit gases running up and over the main body. There was a platform, crossed with arrows, and arrows and circles and lines spelled out its name overhead. There was complete silence. Then a cheer rose. Nopony knew what it was, or what it did, or if it was any good at all, but it was gorgeous andbig and they wanted a turn!

Mr. Rich chuckled and held up a hoof for quiet. “Now, this is actually a bit different than a lot of other games in here. There’s a tutorial in the game itself, but… well, I don’t suppose anypony would object if I were to just show it off a little?”
Wild cheering answered that, no, they wouldn’t mind at all. The earth pony smiled and pulled out a bit. He glanced at the screen, scrolling through a list of titles before finally settling on one. He smiled, and the faint sound of flutes filled the air. And then, he danced.

He was pretty good, for a dad. He kept it up for a whole two minutes before he started missing any great number off tiles. He lasted a minute more before he all but fell off, wheezing.. The businesspony smiled up at the audience, weak but sincere. “Excuse me,” he gasped. “Not as koff, koff, young as I was. But what koff, fun, eh?”

The crowd cheered again, and Mr. Rich’s smile grew a bit wider. “I’m glad you think so. In that case, I declare this game to be officially open to the public!”

He trotted slowly off to the cheers of the masses, quietly shaking Bell’s hoof before he left. In the audience, one young brown colt’s eyes sparkled. “Whoa…”

On the outskirts of the crowd, four jaws dropped. “Oh. My. Celestia,” Sweetie squeaked.

Outside the arcade, a pink hoof bumped silver, and two fillies grinned evilly.


***


“It looked so cool!” Apple Bloom sighed, staring up at the clubhouse roof.

“So go play on it,” Rumble said, not looking up from his math homework.

“But it’s only here ‘cause o’ Diamond Tiara!”

“So don’t go play on it.”

“But it looked so cool!”

“Abby, are you going to help me understand what the Tartarus Soh-Cah-Toa means, or are you gonna whine all afternoon?”

“Whine, prob’ly.”

“Sine equals opposite side over the hypotenuse, cosine equals adjacent over hypotenuse, tangent is opposite over adjacent,” Scootaloo said, flipping over another page. “I’m going to go on it later. It looked fun.”

“But Tiaraaaaa,” Apple Bloom groaned.

“So what?” Scootaloo asked, looking up from her worksheet. “You can’t let her ruin everything for you. Anyway, it doesn’t really even belong to her.”

“Ah guess,” Bloom sighed, flopping onto her stomach. “When’s Sweetie gonna get here?”

“Dunno,” Rumble said.

“She’s at the Boutique, I think,” Scootaloo said, rolling onto her back. “She said Rarity’s using her as a shop dummy again.”

“Oh, right.” Apple Bloom stared up at the ceiling. Then, her brow furrowed. “Hang on. Ain’t Rarity in Canterlot today?”

There was a moment’s silence. Then Bloom threw down her history book, and the three bolted out the hatch.


***


“Woo-hoo!” Sweetie shouted, hooves clattering on the brightly-lit platform as a jazzy little Charleston played from the game’s speakers. Her tail swished back and forth in time with the energetic beat, wagging like an excited puppy. Sure, she wasn’t hitting all the right tiles. Or at the right time. Or at all, occasionally. But she was having fun, which was the important thing.

Eventually, the song wound down, and so did the unicorn. She wiped a hoof across her brow, and looked up at the screen. 60% correct, it read. Not bad, Sweetie thought, stumbling off the platform. Some ponies hadn’t even gotten thirty. Not enough to put CMCSweetheart on the leaderboard, but enough to leave her satisfied with her work. “Hi, there!”

Sweetie nearly jumped out of her skin. She almost screamed, but she was so out of breath that all she could muster was a squeak of alarm. “Oops! Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Sweetie took another look at the newcomer. He was an earth pony with a well-combed chocolatey-brown coat, a long, shaggy mane topped with a constantly-spinning propellor beanie, and wide, earnest orange eyes. “I-it’s alright,” she said. “You just startled me, that’s all.”

He lit up. “Oh, okay. That's good.”

She waited for a moment as he beamed at her. “Um… did you want something?” she asked cautiously.

“Oh! Right. Um, I just wanted to say you did really good on that game, and do you want to maybe play it with me?”

Sweetie cocked her head. “Um.”

“I’m Button,” the colt added quickly. “Button Mash. I just moved here with my mom. I, uh, don’t have a lot of friends here yet.” He pinked slightly.

“Oh,” said Sweetie, slightly overwhelmed. It wasn’t often that she met somepony so enthusiastic. Then she beamed. “I’ll be your friend!”

“Yes!” Button said, punching the air. “So, you wanna try the doubleplay mode on JJI?”

“Okay! But, um, in a minute. I’m kinda too tired right now,” Sweetie said.

“Oh. Okay,” said Button, deflating slightly. His propellor slowed. Then, a moment later, it was whizzing about like a gyroscope once more. “How about Pac-Mule?”

She smiled. “Okay. I’m Sweetie Belle, by the way. Where did you move from?”

“Baltimare,” Button said, pulling out two bits. “I really liked it there, and I kinda miss the ocean, but Ponyville’s really nice, too.”

“How come I haven’t seen you around town before?” Sweetie asked, stepping up to the machine.

The colt shrugged. “I guess I don’t get out that much,” he admitted. “And I only got here a month ago, so me and mom have been pretty busy. Um,” he hummed. “So, uh, what sort of games do you like?”

Sweetie shrugged. “Iunno. I kinda like puzzle games, like Sudoku Smash, or Logic’s Gate.”

“Yeah, those are pretty good arcade games,” Button agreed. “But what about at home?”

Sweetie frowned. “I don’t have any games at home. Except chess and Monopony.”

Button’s eyes went huge and he dropped his bits. “Wha— Wait— Buh— you mean you don’t have a game system?”

Sweetie cocked her head. “What’s that?”

Bits went back into bag, and Button leapt from the machine. “C’mon! I’ll show you!”


***


The three Crusaders peered into the arcade. “See her yet?” Scootaloo asked, squinting.

“No,” Rumble said. “Hey, Scootaloo, have you got a twin? Or— no, that’s a colt. And an earth pony. But look, he’s on the JJI machine—”

“Me, neither. Guess we’d best go in an’ look fer her there,” Bloom sighed. “C’mon.”

She and Scootaloo waded into the miasma of light and sound. Rumble let his attention linger a few moments more on the cute colt on the dancing game. Then he tore his eyes away. Not now. He followed his friends into the arcade.

There was a massive crowd gathered around the new machine, cheering on its new master as he kicked up his hooves to a giddy Shirish jig. “Hey, ‘scuse me, comin’ through,” Bloom said. “Hey, Lily! Have y’all seen—”
“AH!” the florist yelped. “It's Them!” She raced from the arcade, screaming. The three foals watched her rush out the door.
“Hey, Mr. Whistle,” Scootaloo hailed. The gold-coated stallion started in surprise. “O-oh, hello, Scootaloo. Is there anything I can help you with?”
“We're looking for Sweetie Belle,” Rumble said. “Seen her anywhere?”
Bell nodded, his cropped, curly mane bouncing. “Ye-es, I just…” he glanced around. “Hm. She must have just left. She was with one of my best customers, Button Mash. He's one of my best customers.”
“Shoot,” sighed Bloom. “Well, Ah guess we'll jes’ hafta find this ‘Button Mash,’ then.”
“Can't we have a turn on the new machine, first?” Scootaloo asked. “Look, there's nopony on it!”
It was true. The colt who looked oddly like Scootaloo had jumped off at last, and the gathered crowd were all cheering for him. Bloom sighed. “Awright, fine. One round.”
“Yes!” Scootaloo buzzed over, bit at the ready.
“Hold it!”
The pegasus stopped short and glanced around. “Oh. What do you want, Tiara?”
The pink filly sneered. “I can't imagine wanting anything you had, Scoota-loser. I don't touch orphan cash.”
“I'm not an orphan! You've seen my mom! She's a history professor, she just doesn't get out much!”
Diamond Tiara yawned. “Sure, fine, don't care. Just lemme get what I need, and then you'll be out of my mane.”
Scootaloo opened her mouth to retort, but her jaw dropped when she saw Silver Spoon leading in a bunch of burly ponies in sharp suits and sunglasses. “Right this way,” she said. “Bet we're going to get a good haul out of this.”
Bell Whistle frowned, and that frown only deepened when one of the toughs produced a key. “Excuse me, but what are you doing?”
One of the heavies glanced up. “Takin’ the haul, what's it look like?”
Bell blinked. “But… this is an arcade machine.”
“Yep. One owned by Barnyard Bargains,” Tiara said smugly. “Thus returning all revenue generated to us. Or me, at least.”
“What?” Apple Bloom all but exploded. “Ya can't do that!”
Bell nodded. “Yes, this was a gift! Gifted to us by Mr. Rich, who gifted it to us!”
“Yeah, sure,” snorted a grey mare, unlocking the machine. “‘Less you got a contract says otherwise, we're takin’ the dough.”
“I do, actually,” Bell said.
That brought them up short. “Oh,” said the grey mare, scratching her head. “Well, dat’s different.”
“Sorry ‘bout dat,” a scar-faced stallion said, hoofing over the key.
“Our bad,” agreed a mare with a cutie mark of a cinder block. “Do pardon us.”
Silver Spoon stared incredulously at Diamond Tiara. “You didn't check for this?” she demanded.
“It worked for my uncle’s pinball palace in Baltimare,” Tiara defended. Then, she turned to Bell Whistle, looking contrite. “So sorry, Mr. Whistle. I must have misunderstood the business relationship. Here's my key—” she hoofed it over. “Please, take it as a sign of apology. It won't happen again, will it Silver?”
The bespectacled filly cocked her head, but quickly caught on. “Uh, no, it won't,” she agreed.
Bell smiled nervously. “Eh, that's, er, quite alright. Just, um, er…”
“Check first in the future?” Tiara asked smoothly. “Of course, Mr. Whistle.”
The golden stallion nodded and glanced over as the last of the suit-wearing ponies left the arcade, the last one tipping his hat as he went. “Good, good,” he stammered. “Enjoy the arcade, then.”
Rumble leaned into Bloom’s ear. “They got shut down fast, huh?”
The yellow filly giggled. “Ah think that's about that fer today,” she whispered back as Scootaloo got up onto the platform.
“Hold it!” Tiara said again, throwing up a hoof.
Scootaloo sighed. “What now?”
Diamond smiled smugly. “This might've been a gift for the arcade, but it was a gift to me, too. Daddy said so.”
The orange pegasus stared at her flatly. “So?”
“So, I should get paid the same as the machine does,” Tiara demanded, holding out a hoof. “Give.”
Scootaloo regarded her. “Nah.” Then, she put her bit in the machine. “Let's see, what looks good… waltz, yuck… polka, no… it takes two to tango…”
Suddenly, the screen went black. “Hey!” Scootaloo said, indignant.
Silver stuck her head out from behind the machine. “Give us a bit, and I'll turn it back on,” she taunted.
“Ugh!” Scootaloo fumed, but then tossed over a bit. “Happy?”
“Plus a processing fee, transfer fee, and interest,” Silver added smoothly.
“What's that mean?” Bloom asked.
“I think it means, more,” Rumble replied, glowering at the duo.
Scootaloo threw another bit at the floor and glared impatiently as Silver ducked behind the machine. Diamond smiled smugly as it turned on.
“Let's see. Baby mode? I don't think so,” Scootaloo said, making to change the difficulty level. She frowned. “Why is it only offering me the most basic levels?”
“Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't know you wanted to upgrade,” Silver said smugly, waving a stack of punch cards at the pegasus. “Another bit per every level up.”
Rumble smacked the floor. “That's it,” he growled. “Cut it out and put those back where they go, or so help me—”
“Or so help you what?” Tiara asked. “You'll punch me? I’ll sue you and your brother for everything you've got. Might even be enough to buy some pocket lint.”
“Ah’ll play ya fer it,” Bloom said firmly.
That brought the rich filly up short. “You'll— huh?”
“A wager,” the yellow filly continued. “You two ‘gainst th’ Crusaders. If we win, ya quit houndin’ us fer bits.”
Diamond curled her lip. “Silver?”
The grey filly poked her head out again. “Sounds like fun,” she agreed.
The pink filly nodded. “Fine. But when we win, you Crusaders have to— have to—” she broke off, concentrating. “Go to school in diapers!” she finished triumphantly.
Bloom blanched for a moment, then glanced at the two pegasi. Rumble was still glowering at the bullies. Scootaloo pounded one hoof against the other. The yellow filly’s lip curled, and she spat in her hoof. “Yer on!”
Diamond looked disgusted, but she repeated the gesture. “High noon,” she said, shaking her enemy’s hoof. “We'll even give you time to practice. Then, one game each. Whoever scores highest, wins.”
“Deal!” Bloom agreed. “On the same level, but any dance is fair game.”
“Deal,” said Tiara, pulling away. “Silver, put those cards away. Let's give them some kind of practice time.”
The duo trotted away, laughing.
Rumble glanced at Bloom. “You sure you know what you’re doing?”
Bloom coughed. “Uh, well, Ah dunno ‘bout you, but Ah got three left hooves. How’re—”
“Never tried,” Rumble said. Both of them looked at Scootaloo, who was hopping desperately from tile to tile like a deranged rabbit. “Well. It was nice knowing you, Bloom, but I think I’m just going to go and start living in the Everfree before we get our flanks kicked.”
Bloom scowled. “We got us some time ta practice,” she said. “We jes’ gotta make th’ most of it.”  The time was half-past nine.


***


Tender Care sighed happily as she set the last photograph down on the mantelpiece. It had taken more time than she’d expected, but all of their things had finally been unpacked. Now, perhaps, their new house would start to feel more like a home. Yet, even as she gazed around the room, her heart sank. There was something missing, something wrong. The house felt cold and lonely.
There was the sound of a door slamming open. “Mom! Mom! Momma! Mom! Mommy! Ma! Mom! Mom! Momma-llama-ding-dong! Mom!”
There it was, she thought, a smile crossing her face. “In here, sweetie!”
“How does your mom know my name?” a new voice asked. Female, quite young. About the same age as Button. Button had made a friend?
“Secret mom powers!” Tender replied, stepping into the kitchen and grinning playfully at the two foals, though she scanned them closely. One, of course, was her own Button. He was a little more roughed-up than usual, but grinning widely. The other, a creamy-coated unicorn with shining eyes and a curly mane. “Your name is Sweetie, then?”
“Yes, ma’am. Sweetie Belle,” said Sweetie Belle. “Pleased to make your acquaintance.”
Tender’s brow rose. “Well, it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance as well, Miss Belle. I’m Tender Care. Would you two like a snack?”
“No, thank you. I’m still full from breakfast.”
“Mom, we don’t have time for snacks! Sweetie Belle’s never even heard of a game console!” Button said, bouncing excitedly.
Tender raised an eyebrow at her son. “I did tell you that a lot of ponies out here might not have all the technology we might have had back ho— in the city.”
“Yeah, but I gotta show her!” Button said, voice rising in excitement.
Tender smiled. “Alright, Button. Go and bring it down. We’ll wait here.”
“Okay!” He rushed off, taking the stairs two at a time.
The older mare looked back at Sweetie, only to find that the filly was now standing right next to her, peering at her flanks. “Miss Care—”
“Tender is fine.”
“What does your cutie mark mean?”
Tender glanced as Sweetie’s own flanks, and nodded. “I got mine much later than most of my friends,” she said. “It didn’t come in until I was sixteen!”
Sweetie’s jaw fell open. “Sixteen?” she echoed.
“Oh, yes,” Tender said, nodding thoughtfully. “I was babysitting my little cousin, Angel Hair…”
A young, light-tan mare with silver braces and a ponytail buried her head in her hooves as a piercing wail split the air and her eardrums both. “Quit screaming!” she yelled at the pale yellow infant sitting in a pile of toys. “You aren’t hungry, you won’t take a nap, and your diaper is [i/] clean! What do you want from me?”
Little Angel Hair only continued wailing and carrying on. Tender huffed. When her Aunt Loving Spoonful had offered her fifteen bits an hour, she should’ve haggled for more. The baby had been good enough for the first hour and a half, but things had disintegrated very fast and very suddenly. The tiny filly started wailing without cause and refused to stop. Tender had tried everything: feeding her, distracting her with toys, taking her diaper off and then putting it on again (hey, it worked for her calculator). She’d even tried giving the little Tartarion a bath, to no avail.
“If you don’t quit crying,” Tender began. “I’ll— I’ll—” She racked her brains. “I’ll start crying too! Louder than you!”
Angel Hair showed no sign of letting up. Tender screwed up her face. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you! WWWWWAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!”
The two sat there for a long moment just wailing at one another. Then, Angel stopped, registering what was happening.
Tender continued to wail, not realizing that the baby had stopped until she felt a little poke at her leg. She cut off abruptly and looked down. Angel was looking up at her in concern. She blew a little raspberry at the baby.
Angel blew a raspberry back, and Tender smiled in a manner befitting her name. “There now. Not so bad after all, huh?”
The baby smiled a mostly toothless smile and made to grab the older filly’s nose. Tender leaned down and let Angel bat at it. Then, she straightened up in shock. “Angel. How did you get over here? Did you— did you start walking? For me?”
“Gah!”
Tender blinked back tears and hugged the infant gently. “Oh, honey… who’s the sweetest filly in the world? Izzit you? Yes, you are!”
So distracted was she by her baby cousin, she didn’t notice her new cutie mark for another fifteen minutes. After that, she squealed louder than ever before and started Angel off crying again. Still, worth it.


***

“So, it’s a symbol for looking after ponies and understanding their needs, especially loved ones,” the tan mare concluded. “I’ve made a career out of it; I’m a therapist.”
Sweetie was undeterred from the central point of the story. “You didn’t get your cutie mark until you were sixteen?” she squeaked.
Tender smiled and smoothed back Sweetie’s mane. “Yes,” she agreed. “That does seem an awfully long time to wait, doesn’t it? But you know what? I think the ponies with the best cutie marks are the ones who had to wait and see what they were really good at.”
“I guess,” Sweetie said slowly.
There was a clattering noise from the steps and Button came bounding back into the kitchen, carrying with him a large green metal box on his back. He stopped and let it thump onto the ground in front of Sweetie Belle. He looked up at her, his tail wagging. She looked at it for a long moment and smiled, uncertain. “What is it?” she asked.
“It’s an Atarein!” Button said. “I’ve got an Uus system, too, but that’s a lot bigger.”
“Oh,” said Sweetie. “How do you play?”
Button shook his head. “No, it’s not a game. This is the game!” He produced a slim metal tablet. It shone oddly in the light. “You just put it in here, and…”
The dark screen centered near the top of the box flickered to life with a pale green glow. Sweetie leaned closer as the words “ROUGH AND TUSSLE” faded onto the screen. “Oh! So it’s like an arcade game, but small.”
“Wha-- No! Well, kinda, I guess, but this can play all sorts of games, and you don’t have to pay every time you play.”
“Oh,” Sweetie said blankly.
“And you don’t have to wait in lines for a turn,” Button added.
“Oh!” Sweetie said, brightening. “That’s cool.”
“Yeah, I know!” Button said. “Wanna play?”
“Sure! How do we…” She trailed off as Button produced a pair of controllers and clicked them into place on the console.
A tinny voice echoed from the speakers. “Let’s get ready to TUMBLE!”
“I’ll go easy on you, since you’re new at this,” Button said.
Tender smiled. “I’ll be in the next room if either of you need anything,” she said, trotting off to tidy away the cardboard boxes.


***


“Okay,” Bloom said. “We got this set on th’ lowest level an’ the slowest speed. Scoots, choose yer song.”
The pegasus stared up at the list of choices. “Well, I know Holly Bud songs pretty well. Hey, isn’t that grey mare married to DJ P0N-3 in the Krikkits?”
“Come on,” Rumble said, impatiently.
“Okay. Whoosh, by the Mustangs,” Scootaloo said decisively.
Apple Bloom selected the tune, and a fast-paced swing number began to play. Onscreen, little arrows and symbols began to rain down from the top, and Scootaloo leapt from side to side athletically, bouncing on her hooves as she went. She lacked some skill, but she managed to compensate for that in speed and enthusiasm. Perhaps she overcompensated; despite the song’s allegro pace, she was a little bit faster, and she kept hitting the arrows before time. The other two watched her progress. “Not bad,” Rumble said.
“But is she good enough ta beat them two bullies?” Bloom worried.
The song ended, and Scootaloo stared up at the screen. “Seventy percent, not bad,” she said, stepping off.
“Alright, Bloom, you’re up next,” Rumble said.
The farm filly laughed humorlessly. “Not a chance. Yer up.”
The grey colt rolled his eyes, but climbed onto the platform.
“Awright, Rumble, what’ll it be fer you?”
The colt stared up at the screen. “Uh, the Enticements are about the only ones I really know… wait, there are musicals in here?”
“Yeah,” Scootaloo said. “Why, do you watch a lot of them?”
“Thunderlane and Flitter love ‘em, Cloudchaser loves to make fun of them.” Rumble shrugged. “I’m not crazy about them, but I’ll take Wicked Mare from ‘Utopia’.”
“Alright,” Scootaloo said, navigating along the screen. A smooth, jazzy intro began to play.
Rumble’s dancing wasn’t the best. It was technical, correct, and precise, but you couldn’t see much passion to it beyond mild irritation. On the other hoof, he seemed to be doing well enough on hitting the right tiles at the right time.
“Uh, hey, Apple Bloom.”
Bloom turned in surprise. “Oh, howdy, Twist. How’ve y’all been?”
The curly-maned filly nodded quickly. “Oh, I’ve been alright. Auntie Bon Bon’th been teaching me how to make peanut butter fudge.”
“Yeah? Bet she lets y’all help out heaps more’n the kitchen now you got that shiny new cutie mark.”
Twist shifted awkwardly. “Uh, yeah, I guesth. Anyway, I just wanted to athk if you were going to be on there for much longer?”
“Oh, sorry, Twist. We got this bet goin’ with Diamond Tiara that we can outdance her, an’, well, we need all th’ practice we kin get.”
Twist slumped. “Oh. Okay.”
Apple Bloom frowned. “Ya doin’ alright there, Pep?” she asked. “Ya seem a li’l down in th’ dumps.”
“No, it’th nothing,” Twist said. “Um, it’th been nithe theeing you again, Apple Bloom, but I gotta go. Oh, but do you wanna come over Wednesday afternoon?”
Bloom blinked. “Well, that sounds like a fine idea,” she agreed. “Ah’ll see y’all then. Oh, hey, th’ song’s endin’. Looks like Ah’m up next.”
Twist’s eyes went huge behind her spectacles. “Um, I gotta go… wathh the lawn. Thee you Wednesday!” She hurried off.
Scootaloo watched her go. “Old friend?” she guessed.
Bloom sighed. “Yeah, kinda. We usta be blank-flank buddies, but since she got her mark, we just kinda… drifted, Ah guess.”
Rumble trotted off the platform, a thin sheen of sweat on his brow. “Eighty-five,” he reported.
“Hey, that’s good,” Bloom said. “Looks like yer gonna be our fighter in this one.”
Rumble frowned. “Hold on,” he said flatly. “You’re going to try out first. I’ve heard way too much about this amazingly bad dancing of yours, and I’m going to see it firsthoof.”
Bloom sighed and got up onto the machine. “Fine. But don’t say Ah didn’t warn ya!”
“Country?” Rumble guessed drily.
“Ha ha,” Bloom replied. “No. Ah ain’t that much a cliche, and Ah ain’t met a squaredance Ah could pull off. Ah’ll take Pudgy Parcheesi. Raspberry Hill.”
Scootaloo selected the tune, and Bloom set off with violent vigor. Unfortunately, it was a rather slower piece. Neither pegasus could tear their eyes from the carnage that followed as the yellow filly conspired to hit every single tile save for the one onscreen. She flailed like a fish that was not only out of water, but also out of oxygen, social support, and possibly its mind. The colt that looked like Scootaloo approached them, but Rumble held him back. “Look away,” he whispered. “Look away.”
When the song ended, several nearby ponies broke into tears of relief. Some even broke into applause, so glad were they that it was over. Bloom looked around in surprise. “Golly! Ah didn’t think mah dancin’ was that purty. Mebbe Ah should do another one?”
That cleared the line away fast. Bloom looked back up at the screen. “What? Only three percent?”
“How did she get that high?” Scootaloo whispered.
“Remember when she fell on her flank that one time?” Rumble replied. “She accidentally hit the right tile when she was getting back to her hooves.”
“Ahh…”
“Well,” said Bloom, getting down from the platform. “Ah certainly hope that satisfied yer curiosity, ‘cos Ah don’t think Ah’ve ever been so embarrassed in mah life.”
“Yeah, fine,” Rumble relented. “I guess I’d better train some more. It’s already half past ten.”


***


“How did you beat me again?!” Button demanded, slamming his hoof against the table.
“I dunno,” Sweetie replied, taking a sip of her juice box. “Wanna play best of fifteen?”
“...Sure,” Button sighed.
“I don’t think so,” said Tender firmly. “You’ve spent almost an hour on that game, and you were just at the arcade. No more video games today.”
Button looked up at his mother with big, sad eyes. “But mom, Sweetie’s never even seen a game console before today! It’s all new to her!”
Tender glanced to the side, but she couldn’t escape the allure of those puppy-dog eyes; Sweetie was doing them, too. “All right,” she relented. “No more video games until after noon, then.”
“Okay!” Button said, turning to Sweetie. “So, what d’you wanna do?”
She shrugged. “I dunno. Have you got any board games?”
Tender smiled at them both. “It’s a beautiful spring day out there. I’m sure you can find something nice and active to do…”
Sweetie brightened. “Oh! We could go and find my other friends. I bet they can think of something to do!”
“Great!” Button cheered. “What are their names? What are they like? Do they like video games? What do you do for fun?”
Sweetie began to eagerly reply to Button’s questions as the duo trotted out the door. Tender smiled; it warmed her heart to see her son making friends so quickly in this new town. Perhaps she should look into making some new friends as well. She barely knew the neighbors at all, and they’d been here for a whole month already! Perhaps after a little while, she might re-enter the dating pool. Prove, at least to herself, that her ex wasn’t the only one who could get a new lover at the drop of a hoof.
Her smile faded as she recalled the fateful afternoon when she’d gone to bring Resistor Switch the lunch he’d left on the counter, and discovered that he was eating something else entirely behind the office door he’d forgotten to lock. There had been some tensions before then, but this was the final nail in the coffin. She’d taken custody of Button and a sizable amount of her ex’s money. There had been a few possessions as well, but she’d sold them at the first opportunity. Better not to hang onto things best left forgotten.
This move was meant to be a clean slate for her and Button both. He was as bright as his namesake, and saw this as some kind of grand adventure. The right attitude to have, Tender reflected. A new town to explore, new characters to meet, perhaps some quests if she was lucky. She trotted out the door into the sunlight, smiling and waving at the pair of stallions next door. Behind her, the door slammed shut on the darkened house.


***


“So, your group--”
“The Cutie Mark Crusaders.”
“Yeah, that. Can I join?”
Sweetie rubbed her chin with a hoof as she led Button through the apple orchard, where the trees were beginning to bloom. “Well, we’ll have to vote on it, but I don’t see why you couldn’t. I mean, you’re nice, and friendly, and you don’t have a cutie mark yet. You’re a shoe-in!”
“Cool!” Button bounced along beside the unicorn, his propeller spinning faster than ever. “So, they’re all at the clubhouse you mentioned?”
Sweetie thought about that. “Well, they ought to be,” she hedged. “We usually spend Saturday mornings doing homework so we’ve got the rest of the weekend free for Crusading. But they might’ve finished already. Applejack can tell us where they are, though, if they’ve run off.”
“Can we check the clubhouse first? I’ve never seen a clubhouse before,” Button enthused.
“Well, you won’t find a better one to start with,” Sweetie said, raising a hoof in a grand, sweeping gesture. “Behold!”
Button beheld. The clubhouse had clearly begun as a simple wooden structure, little more than a treehouse. Four walls, windows, roof, doors, fairly bog-standard. Since then, it had grown. A telescope stuck out of the roof. A firepony’s pole connected to the ground from somewhere high in the tree. A rudimentary shower had been constructed out of a garden hose and a colander, and there were rectangular markings on the roof with notes saying, ‘cut here’ and ‘stairwell ends here.’
“Whoa,” Button said, grinning.
“Yeah,” Sweetie agreed. “Bloom didn’t wanna add all the stuff on at first, but the rest of us talked her into the shower. I think she really enjoyed it, ‘cause she keeps adding on. We’re putting in a second story next week, and as soon as we can find out how to cut a hole in the tree trunk and still keep it alive, we’re adding a basement.”
“Whoa,” Button repeated, gazing up at the towering treehouse. “So what’s it like inside?”
“C’mon! I’ll show you!” Sweetie replied, bouncing up to the clubhouse. Button followed her, scampering up the steps in her wake.
“Aw,” Sweetie added, smile dropping. “Nopony here. And they left all their books and things lying around, too.”
Button didn’t reply. He was too busy gazing in awe at the room around him. It was lit naturally, light reflected around the clubhouse with carefully-positioned mirrors. A shelf, half-full of books and scrolls and knick-knacks, took up half a wall. Another wall was consumed by a chalkboard, where attempted solutions for Foalmat’s Last Theorem shared space with calculations for the size of a ramp and a half-finished portrait of Rainbow Dash eating a roast beet sandwich. A hoofwritten sign at the top read ‘Scootaloo’s Corner’.
Then there were the things that Button couldn’t even begin to comprehend; crayon drawings of unlikely inventions, clay statues of dancing ponies, empty potion bottles and herbs that covered half a table. A piece of paper read, in the same hoofwriting as the sign on the chalkboard, ‘Alkymist Alchimest Alkimist Potion-Maker in Training: Hooves Off.’
Sweetie glanced around. “Yeah, sorry about the mess,” she said. “We put most of our stuff in the old woodshed so it isn’t cluttering the place up too much. Or--” she glanced at Button and decided that it would be best not to scare him off. 			“Yeah, avoid clutter.”

***

Applejack glanced at her brother’s close-cropped mane. “Granny fin’lly hogtie ya an’ give ya a trim?”
Big Macintosh looked at her sidelong. “Nnope.”
“Didja get attacked by a crazy barber who usu’lly only works on cactuses?”
“Nnope.”
“Well, Ah sure hope ya got ambushed by a badger with a razor, ‘cause if ya got that manecut of yer own choosin’, y’all’ve gone looney.”
Mac sighed. “Ah opened th’ woodshed.”
“Oh,” Applejack winced. “Scissor frisbee?”
“Light-activated laser cannon.”
“Ah.” Applejack chewed on her lower lip. “Ya reckon we oughta be worried about what she’s gettin’ up to?”
“Nah. Look how you turned out.”
“Ah never did nuttin’--”
“Automatic apple picker.”
“Never mind…”


***


“So!” Sweetie said brightly. “What do you think?”
Button looked at her longingly. “Can we go find your friends now so I can be a Crusader? Please please please?”
Sweetie beamed. “Yes! Now, if I were finished with my homework on a sunny Saturday morning, where would I go?”
Button thought about this. “The arcade!”
Sweetie coughed. “Well, um…” she trailed off. “Well, I think Scootaloo did want to try the JJI, too… alright, we’ll check at the arcade first, but we’d better hurry. Rarity wanted me home for lunch by one.” She checked the clock, carefully modified and hooked up to the mirrors to ensure that they would always track the sun. “It’s half-past eleven, so we’d better hurry.”
Button lingered at the entrance for a moment as Sweetie bounced down the steps. Then he turned and hurried after her, silently promising to return soon.


***


Rumble panted, sweat pouring down his face. He was no slouch when it came to sport, but Scootaloo and Apple Bloom had been running him ragged on this machine for the past two hours, with infrequent and irregular water breaks. “Girls,” he wheezed, trying to persuade his aching hooves to fall into their proper places. “Can I please take a break now?”
Apple Bloom frowned. “Ah dunno. Yer average jes’ keeps fallin’ the more ya practice.”
“So maybe I shouldn’t practice anymore, so it doesn’t get worse.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t quite catch that,” Scootaloo said. “I don’t speak quitter.”
Rumble stopped in mid-jig. “Scootaloo, look at me. I’m a mess.” It was true. He was soaking with sweat, and his mane was matted against his scalp. He smelled gross, like Big Mac’s yoke after a week without being cleaned. His throat was raw, and his voice hoarse. Worst of all, his legs were shaking like jelly just from the pressure of supporting his body.
Scootaloo looked at him with a raised brow. “Pain is just weakness leaving the body,” she said.
“Pain is just pain entering the body,” Rumble growled. “I’m not some kind of unathletic weakling, Scootaloo. I’ve practiced this hard before.”
“So what’s the problem?” Scootaloo demanded, leaning forwards.
Rumble butted his forehead against hers. “The problem is that after that kind of practice, I usually have to get Thunderlane to carry me home, ‘cause I’m too sore to move. The problem is that I usually have a couple of days rest before I actually have to play for real. The PROBLEM is that we’ve got about twenty minutes before the dance-off for our dignity, and I feel like a Celestia-damn zombie!”
Scootaloo drew back. “Oh.” She glanced at Apple Bloom. “I think we might have messed up.”
The yellow filly’s ear twitched nervously. “Aight. Okay, Plan B. Scoots, yer up.”
Rumble all but fell off the platform, stumbling off to rest his aching muscles. Scootaloo put in another bit and selected a waltz. She moved with the beat as best she could, focusing only on the screen. She was doing pretty okay, Bloom thought. 			Maybe, just maybe, they could win this bet after all. A few minutes later, Scootaloo had finished with a very respectable eighty-four percent accuracy. “Aight,” Apple Bloom said. “Aight, we still might have a chance. How many bits do we got on us?”
“Three,” Rumble reported.
“Four,” Scootaloo said.
“An’ Ah got two,” Bloom said. “Enough fer another couple runs. C’mon, Scoots, we’re countin’ on y’all.”
The pegasus nodded grimly and put in another coin.


***

Diamond glanced at her best friend. “You ready to win this?” she asked, smirking.
Silver smiled back, only a tad nervous. “Yeah. Which song do you want to do?”
The pink filly nibbled at her lower lip for a second before remembering that that was a sign of weakness. “Tango?”
Silver pursed her lips. “You sure? That’s never been our best. Why not go for something that we’re bound to win with?”
“I’ve been practicing,” Diamond insisted. “Just keep in step with me, and we’ll send those blank-flank babies crying for their-- their--”
“Mommies?” Silver suggested.
Diamond blinked. “Yes, thank you, Silvy. Anyway, are you ready?”
Her glasses flashed with sinister glee. “You know it.”

***

Sweetie entered the arcade at a rapid gait, Button close at her hooves. “Do you see them?” he asked.
Sweetie peered around the room, squinting against the bright colors and lights. “I see Apple Bloom and Scootaloo,” she said at last. “But not-- oh, there’s Rumble. Wow, he looks real beat-up. His mane is soaking!”
“Oh,” Button winced. “Yeah, I’ve been there.”
Sweetie looked the colt over. He was a tad portly, not remotely muscular, and had developed a light sweat just cantering around town. “Really?” she asked, unable to keep a note of doubt from entering her tone. He really didn’t look like the type to engage in long, strenuous workouts.
“Uh-huh,” Button said sadly. “That’s one thing I won’t miss about Baltimare; Sea Swirl. Or ‘Sea Swirly.’ She was the meanest kid ever.” He paused and looked at Sweetie anxiously. “You don’t have any bullies in Ponyville, right?”
Sweetie bit her lip. “We do,” she said. “Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon. But Miss Cheerilee, that’s our teacher, is really good at keeping them off our backs.” She paused, and because she had always been taught to be scrupulous, corrected her last remark to, “Pretty good.”
Button whimpered slightly, his propellor beanie slowing to a crawl. “They aren’t that bad, I guess,” Sweetie hastened to add. “Just, you know, annoying and rude.”
“Oh, so we’re the annoying ones, Squeaky Belle?”
“Ah, speak of the Nightmare,” Sweetie said flatly, turning to stare at the pair of interlopers. “What do you two want?”
“We just thought we’d check out your raw recruit,” Silver said, eyes idly tracing Button’s flanks. “Another baby blank-flank for your little day-care center, huh?”
“Silver, make up your mind. Are we menaces to society, or are we infants, ‘cause I don’t think we can be both,” Sweetie snarked.
Silver thought about this. “You’re infants with access to high-tech, dangerous machinery,” she decided.
Sweetie nodded. “Eight of ten for effort.”
Diamond snorted. “What-ever. Come Monday, everypony in town will see you for the baby blank-flanks you really are.”
Sweetie’s brow furrowed. “Huh?”
“Ask your friends,” Silver replied, mocking. “See you in three minutes!”
The duo trotted away, laughing evilly. Sweetie watched them go, concerned. “Sweetie,” Button said. “What were they 			talking about?”
“I dunno,” the unicorn replied. “Let’s go and find out.”

***

“You bet them WHAT?”
Apple Bloom winced both at Sweetie’s anger and from the preposterously high pitch that came with it. “It was th’ only way Ah could think ta get ‘em off our backs!” she protested.
“Really? The only way. Not, I dunno, just leaving? Or telling Mr. Whistle?”
“What good would that do? He ain’t a disciplinarian.”
“Better than betting the two biggest bullies in town! Better than saying that we’d dress up like babies if we lost!”
Button whimpered. “I don’t wanna spend my first day at school in a diaper.”
“We aren’t gonna lose,” Scootaloo promised. “I got ninety-four percent that last time, let’s see them beat that!”
“A ninety-four?” an unwelcome voice cut in. “That’s not bad. For a beginner.”
The Crusaders (plus one presumptive), turned to look. Diamond and Silver smirked back. “High noon, baby,” Silver said. 	“Or should I say, babies.”
Scootaloo glared at them both, leaning against the railing of the platform. “Yeah, yeah. Look, we’ve been practicing all morning, spent most of our allowances, and I think Rumble looks like he’s gonna throw up. So, are we gonna dance, or are we gonna yak?”
Diamond rolled her eyes. “Fine. We’re going first. I want to see the moment when all the hope goes out of your faces.”
“Cool,” said Scootaloo. Then, she frowned. “Wait. Whaddya mean, ‘we’?”
“Didn’t you see?” Diamond asked, stepping onto the platform. “There’s a two-player mode. That’s the one we’re using. And since we agreed to play on the same level…”
Scootaloo’s jaws flapped as though she were chewing gum, but her expression spoke of one who had bitten into a wet sock instead. She spun around. “Rumble, can you dance again?”
He stared at her. “Scootaloo, I don’t think I can stand.”
“Sweetie Belle? New kid?”
“Um, it’s Button.”
“Sure, fine. Sweetie?” Scootaloo asked desperately.
“I didn’t do so great when I tried earlier. Button is probably your best bet.”
“I've played before,” Button offered. “I'm pretty good at it.”
Scootaloo studied him intently. “Okay. You're joining the Crusaders, then?”
“Yes, please!”
“Kay. Raise your right hoof.” Button did so. “Do you swear to be our sibling, our friends, our confidant, our ally, our…” the music reached a fever pitch. “Oh, never mind. Do you swear to be a Crusader?”
“Sure!”
“Great, we’ll have the full initiation later,” Scootaloo said. “For now, let’s get dancing.” The last of the music died away, and the score came up with a trill.
“Eighty-seven?” Diamond asked, voice thin. “That’s all?”
“I told you it wasn’t our best one,” Silver pointed out.
Diamond growled. “Fine. Well, I suppose it’s a good thing that I developed a plan B.” With no further ado, she vaulted off the platform, straight into Scootaloo.
“Ow!” Scootaloo yelled as she and Diamond smashed into Exploding Goose. “The Tartarus, Diamond?”
“Oops,” Tiara sneered. “So sorry. Let me just not give you a hoof up.”
Scootaloo glowered at the filly as she tried to stand. She winced, lifting her right hind hoof into the air. “Ow,” she repeated.
“Scoots! You alright, there?” Bloom asked, rushing to her friend’s side. “Kin ya still dance?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fiIIII!” Scootaloo’s face twisted up in pain. “I’m good! I can work through the pain. It’ll be fine.”
She took a step towards the machine, visibly shaking. A few more steps, and she’d collapsed. “Okay. New plan. I’m just gonna lie here.”
Bloom looked at Sweetie Belle. “Aight. Sweetie, it’s down ta you an’ Button, here.”
They looked at each other. “Uh, can we have a practice round?” Sweetie asked, shaky.
“No,” Silver said. “We’ve already given you Crusaders the whole morning to practice. Go.”
Sweetie rose and stepped onto the platform, visibly trembling. Button got up next to her. “It’s alright,” he said. “You’ll be great. Do you know any of these songs?”
Sweetie’s eyes flickered over the list. Waltz. Charleston. Tango. Rhumba. “N-no… wait, yes. Rarity taught me swing. She said it was a dance that everypony should know, ‘cause it’s just as good for really formal stuff and not-so-formal parties, too. I guess I was pretty good at that.”
“Okay,” Button said. “I’ve never tried it. You want to lead?”
“Okay,” Sweetie said. She had stopped shaking, and her voice and eyes were clearer. “It’s not that hard,” she continued, selecting the song. “Just mirror me.”
Both foals got into position, standing on their hind hooves and facing each other, Sweetie staring at the screen, Button staring at Sweetie’s hooves. “Okay,” she said as the little symbols began to fall. “Now, your left leg first, step, step, back-step. Step, step, back-step.”
The other five foals stared, mouths and eyes wide as Sweetie led Button through the dance. “Now we switch places, pull yourself towards me… almost! Step, step, back-step.”
“I don’t believe it,” Rumble marveled as Sweetie caught Button and spun him towards her.
“Neither can I,” Diamond muttered, making a move forward, only to be blocked by Apple Bloom.
“No chance,” she said.
And then, far too soon, the music was over. Everypony’s eyes fixed on the screen, waiting for the results to show. It hadn’t been a perfect dance, Sweetie reflected. There had been more than a few missteps on both Button’s part and her own. What if it hadn’t been enough? What if they had lost? Oh, Celestia, they’d lost, she knew it! They would all be laughed at, mocked, ostra-
“Ninety-three percent!” Button cheered. “We did it!” He bounced up and down, then turned to Sweetie. “Great job!”
“We did it?” Sweetie repeated. “We did it!”
Diamond and Silver glanced at one another, and as one, decided that this was a total waste of their Saturday and that they could go and do something much less lame then hang around with baby blank-flanks all afternoon. They turned and sauntered away, noses in the air, while Sweetie and Button were heaped in the praises of their friends.
Eventually, the cheers died down. “Well, now what?” Rumble asked. “Scootaloo and I are in no condition for crusading. How are we gonna spend the rest of the weekend?”
Button’s eyes lit up, and his propeller beanie spun faster than ever.

***

“How do I make this guy duck?”
“Hey, Ah got a treasure chest!”
“Thanks for the celery sticks, Mrs. Button’s Mom!”
“You’re welcome!” Tender called back, before returning her attention to the charming Rarity, who was apparently Sweetie Belle’s big sister.
“I’ve never been to Baltimare,” she said. “Tell me, darling, does Ponyville compare at all favorably?”
Tender listened to the shouts and laughter of the foals in the other room, and her mouth quirked up in a smile. “Do you know, I rather think it is.”
The house had been transformed, after over a month, into a home.
A challenge overcome. An adversary defeated. An alliance forged. The Crusaders rest on their laurels, for the time being. Yet, a far greater foe lies ahead of them, one much more cunning and harsh.