//------------------------------// // Staking a Claim Part 1 // Story: She Drives Me Batty // by I Thought I Was Toast //------------------------------// The reveille had barely started blaring before my hoof met my alarm and I was gliding down the hall to claim the bathroom as my own. With a crack of thunder, sweet, hot water met soft, lilac soap; a steamy fog wrapped itself around me as I enjoyed the benefits of having lazy, snooze-hitting brothers. “Oi!” Dad pounded out a sweet beat on the bathroom door as I nailed the latest Emerald Coast song—the shower cloud rumbling like a hurricane as I danced up a storm. “Turn it down before you wake the dead, ya loon! You’ve got  five more minutes before your brothers start playing with the kitchen faucet!” “If they can even get their lazy butts out of bed!” I giggled and started an encore. Picking up one of several conditioners Diamond insisted I needed, I lathered my coat for another run in the water, smirking as Dad stopped fighting, and joined me in belting out lyrics. He kept himself perfectly in range for Mom, Red, and the rest of the town below. My ears flicked as Mom laughed and joined him when the rumble of thunder heralded him dancing back to the kitchen; the three of us easily drowned out Red’s shouting and Rolling’s squeaky whine as they tried to dig deeper into their beds, but even they couldn’t keep going as the smell of pancakes drifted through the house. Shower done after just three more songs, I skidded out of the bathroom and past the troublesome twerps with a spring in my step, strutting down the hall to the kitchen. “Looks like somepony is ready for their senior year.”  I only blushed a little as Dad laughed when I waltzed in for breakfast, sitting next to him as Mom nosed my plate forward. “I’m just really excited, okay?” “Aye. I can tell.” His grin just made me squirm and blush harder. “You already planning your biology final when prom comes around?” “Tempered!” Mom’s wing was swift. “Dad!” My squeak was shrill. “What?” With a chuckle, Dad ducked under Mom’s follow up. “You’re the one who insists I treat you like an adult.” “Not like that, though!” “So it’s alright if I go back to treating you like my precious little light in the night?” “Daaaaaaaad!” Ruffling my mane, Dad gave way before my ferocious glower to go back to his paper with a laugh. “Love ya, sport.” “I love you too.” I might have smiled while wolfing down my eggs—moony-side up and cratered with black pepper—but my fork flew too fast for anypony to catch it. I snapped up my toast to go, and hugged both Mom and Dad as I headed for the door. “Don’t stay out too late.” Mom sniffed and pulled me back for a second nuzzle just as the twins dragged themselves into the kitchen. “Only if I have to.” Mom hugs were still and always would be the best: even Diamond hugs only managed a tie. I leapt out the door and over the edge of the porch into a glide, banking in a circle to catch a rising thermal. Zooping past the door for one more wave, I kicked it shut, and turned to squint at Princess Twilight’s sparkly castle of doom in the distance. It shined with an unholy brilliance that made me hiss as I reached for my glasses. “Alright, looks like there’s…” I squinted harder to see through the sparkles. “...twenty?” I counted again, frowning. “Twenty-ish cadets. That’s… actually more than I was expecting. I really hope this doesn’t end up like last year….” A few of them glanced my way as I came in for a landing, though most went right back to their stretches. Several more whistled as I pulled out my weights from the equipment chest.  Absolutely nopony could ignore when I pulled my key chain off of my bag to suddenly end up with an entire pile of armor. Sabatons, peytral, helm, and wing guards: Aunt Mercy had spared no expense on my birthday over the years. I loved her to pieces for it, but— “Daaaaaaayumn, filly.” —it did suck when it grabbed the wrong kind of attention. Ignoring the whispers, I suited up, did my stretches, and waited for the sergeant to show up. “What in the name of all things cinnamon swirl are you lot doing staring at a minor, cadets?!” The entire group winced as Sergeant Smiles made her way out of the castle, instantly lining up to salute her. “Oi! Put those hooves back down! I am not the sergeant you sorry lump of sad sacks got saddled with!” She glanced at them, snorting. “And you can thank your lucky stars for that. The lot of you would drop faster than pegasi tied to anvils if I got my hooks in you!” Walking right past the cadets as they hardly dared to breathe, Sergeant Smiles smiled as she reached me. “Platoon Commander Nightingale, show them how a real soldier salutes!” “Ma’am, yes, Ma’am!” My salute was already perfect, I hadn’t left attention since she showed up. “At ease, soldier.” She nodded after a moment, still smiling as she turned back to the cadets. My spine tingled as it got wider. “You lot better learn fast, because my son-in-law isn’t anywhere near as forgiving as I am! Am I clear?!” “Ma’am, yes, Ma’am!” “What did I say about saluting me?!” Sergeant Smiles snorted as one cadet made the mistake of apologizing, turning to look towards the sky. “Turkey Legs and Chicken Wings gonna join us today, Dark Horse?” “No.” “Let’s get going, then.” She began to stretch, and I followed her lead. “Your mom made me promise to get you to school at least half an hour early.” “I don’t need thirty minutes to take a shower.” “No buts. I barely managed to get out of the Pinkie Promise.” “Fine….” I shivered as we started our run, Sergeant Fishflakes already tearing a new one into his fresh, little daisies as we passed. Anything to avoid invoking the Pink one. Five minutes in and out. That’s all it took. No singing. No dancing. It was too dangerous to do that in the school showers. Somepony might catch me. I was out with plenty of time to spare. The yard was slowly filling was students as the clock got closer and closer to nine. My entrance was met with a stomping cheer, and I fought down a blush as I strutted through the flock, grinning like a loon under moon. “Hey, Night! You going to give the baseball team another run this year? Last year sucked without you!” “Baseball? Ha! She was right to dump you after her first two years! She’s coming right back where she belongs, the hoofball team!” “Five bits says she does neither and steals Scoots spot as track captain!” Eyes on the prize. Don’t feed the fire. That way lead to nothing but burning. Slowly pushing my way through the throng, I made my way over to the hanging tree, and gave hoofbumps to Scoots, Rumble, and Silver. “Hey.” “Hey.” Silver smirked as she bumped me back. “You ever going to tell them you aren’t doing sports this year?” “Why ruin the surprise?” I shrugged as I clambered up the tree to my rightful spot. “They’re gonna start hazing Button the instant they find out I’m joining games club.” Rumble snerked. “The great and mighty Nightingale, facing down the evil Squizard.” “Oi! I told you I’m not getting into O&O.” Swinging forward, I gave him a well-deserved thwap. “Tabletop war games are where it’s at.” “Hey, guys! Sorry I’m late. What are we talking about?” Diamond sauntered into the shade like she always did to give me my morning hello. Three whole seconds over the moon with a tiny nibble to my lip as she pulled back; she giggled when I was left with a big, dopey grin and a blush as black as midnight. “Morning, Night.” Her eyelashes fluttered, sending my stomach through all sorts of loops into the distance. “Morning, Night.”  “Is there an echo in the building?” Booping me on the nose, she tittered. “Morning, Night.” “I think you broke her again, Diamond.” Scoots snickered, and Silver rolled her eyes. “Morning, Night.” I nodded in agreement before Diamond swooped in for a more chaste peck on the cheek. Swinging back with a squeak, my head bonked right into the tree, and I was finally able to shake all the stars out of my eyes. “Darn it, Diamond.” “What? It snapped you out of it, didn’t it?” Diamond tittered before sashaying towards me again. “You want another one to make your boo-boos all better?” “Maybe.” My face burned as she waggled her brow and Scoots’ gagged up a storm. “Well, then. Come and get— Eeep!” I made sure to tackle her into the bush to preserve at least some of her dignity. “Mrgrmmmf! Night! Don’t ruin the mane! It took two hours to get it ri— Teeheeheehaahaahaa!” Ribs tickled and victory secured, I rolled out of the bush with her to begin grooming her back to perfection. “Curse you and your pointy teeth.” With a sigh, Diamond leaned into me as I raked my fangs through her mane. “You know they aren’t anywhere near as good as a real brush.” I said nothing, preferring to just keep combing. My tail swept through hers to clear it of leaves and debris while I nibbled on a caterpillar that had gotten stuck in her mane. “And you wonder where all the rumors come from.” Silver leaned on my tree and snorted, while Rumble distracted Scoots to keep her from gagging. “I know where the rumors come from!” I pulled back to stick my tongue out at Silver. “I just don’t understand how they get so unbelievable! My life is not a Mexicolten soap opera!” The bell rang as Silver opened her mouth to respond, and the yard quickly turned into a mad dash for lockers. Sweetie and Bloom caught us right at the door for a group high hoof, but we were all sent completely different ways as the tide of ponies dragged us towards our lockers. Eight-six-seven-five-three-oh-nine. My hooves twirled the tumbler round with practiced ease as I shrugged my saddle bag to the floor. Nosing it open, I pulled out all my books out and quickly organized them before tossing the bag up on the hook. I grabbed my homeroom folder and my leaden Equish brick, and I turned to hip bump my locker closed with a satisfying clang. Two steps towards class and some unicorn had to barrel down the hall straight into me. I just barely heard him in time to roll with the blow so he didn’t splat against me like I was a brick wall. “Sorry, sorry, sorry!” He flailed off of me without even pausing. “Oi. Watch it, Greenie.” As the totally-a-first-year scrambled off, I grabbed the nape of his neck and pulled him up. “Don’t run in the halls.” “No time! Don’t wanna be late!” “You’ve still got fifteen minutes.” I squinted at him as he continued to run in mid air. “That’s more than enough time to get to class.” “Not if I wanna avoid—” “Oi, Shrimp Breath! I’ve been looking all over for you! You forgot your lunch!” “Oh, no….” The unicorn instantly slumped in my grip. Shrimp Breath? I mouthed the nickname, ear flicking. There’s no way this weichei could stomach shrimp. I could already hear his stomach revolting. “You better eat it all up! The catch was huge at my gramps’ this year!” A massively muscular pegasus with little stumps for wings and a crab for a cutie mark strutted up like he owned the school. His bag smelled fishy enough to make me salivate, which meant everypony else was giving him a good twenty to thirty hands of space. It was an easy enough problem to solve, though. “Oi! Fishface! You listening? I got your favorite! You can go back to getting shoved in a locker when I’m done with you.” I really hope I didn’t need to introduce his face into some free real estate. The five minute warning rang and it was suddenly an empty hall as I turned to glower at my newest prey. “Oi. Greenie. What’s your real name?” “B-b-b-beanstalk, Ma’am! P-please don’t shove me in the—” “Beanstalk.” I cut him off, setting him down with my hoof still in place to make sure he wouldn’t run. “Who’s the einzeller?” “The what?” Oh, my mistake, there were two brain cells in there. I could see sparks flying furiously between them when he sneered after a few seconds too many. “Nevermind, I guess you’re a zweizeller.” “That’s what I thought.” The thug ruffled his wings and snorted. “H-his name is Crusty Catcher!” Beanstalk curled his thin frame around me like his namesake. “My friends call me Catcher.” Ah, he thought he could growl. How cute. “Crusty.” I bared my fangs in a grin. “Can I call you, Crusty? Yes? Awesome. Listen, Crusty, because I’m only going to say this once.” Reaching into Crusty’s bag, I pulled out a salt-encrusted lunchbox, popped it open, and poured about a buckets worth of garlic shrimp down my gullet. I licked my lips at the taste as Crusty blanched, but the real prize was seeing him step back. “No one likes a bully.” Leaning forward, I finally let go of Beanstalk; I knew he wouldn’t run. “I don’t shove ponies in lockers. I don’t feed daydwellers fish. And I definitely don’t let others do those things. Remember that the next time you try to pick on someone in my school, or you’ll learn exactly why we don’t have bullies.” “What are you going to do? Snitch on me?” Definitely a zweizeller. I could see the smoke. “For your second strike? Yes.” I turned to start walking Bean to class. “You don’t want to find out what happens on strike three.” As we turned the corner, Beanstalk finally let out the gasp he’d been holding and collapsed in a spineless pile of goo. “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you! Mwwwah! Mwwwah!” “Oi. Stop kissing my hooves like I’m some sorta princess.” I jumped back and winced as Beanstalk didn’t stop fast enough to miss the floor. My brow merely arched as he flailed to his hooves. “Sorry! Let’s—” He stopped to pant for a few moments. “Let’s try again, shall we?” He held out his hoof. “Hi, I’m Beanstalk.” “Nightingale.” I grunted as I took his hoof, looking at a nearby clock. “Fewmits. Look, can we do this later? I’m probably going to be late as it is if I’m gonna escort you to class.” His smile fell. “I’m… fine. Really. Just seeing Catcher put in his place was enough.” “Are you sure? He seems the type to blame you for all this.” I bit my lip, glancing at the clock again. “Yeah, I’m sure.” Bobbing his head, he managed to start walking on his own with only a little bit of a quiver. “I don’t like being a bother. We can talk some other time, maybe.” “Well, I’m gonna hold you to that, Greenbean. Stop by my table at lunch, and we’ll see how I can help you.” With a quick wave, I split the other way for homeroom. “Trouble with the first years again?” Mrs. Cheerilee didn’t even look up from her notes as I squeezed through the door with moments to spare. “You’d think—” I winced as the bell rang, scrambling into the seat next to Diamond. “—all my hard work would last longer.” “If it helps any, I’ve heard it’s mostly just the newer transfer students who are causing trouble.” Mrs. Cheerilee sighed as she glanced up to look out the window. “And foals will be foals. Usually, that’s the best part of the job. Sometimes it’s the worst.” Shaking her head, she stood and moved in front of the chalkboard to start roll call. It was the same roll call I’d heard since I moved to Ponyville, and it was so routine at this point that Mrs. Cheerilee barely paused to wait for our answers. Her pen stayed tucked behind her ear because she’d already marked us all down as we came in, and it was only when she got to the two absent ponies at the bottom of the list that she stopped to glance at the door one more time before turning to face Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle. “Girls, you wouldn’t happen to know why Scootaloo is already trying to break her record, would you?” “Sorry, Mrs. Cheerilee.” Apple Bloom shook her head. “Me and Sweetie were running late earlier and barely got to say ‘hi’ before we had to head for our lockers.” “It’s not that hard to figure out why she’s late when Rumble’s the other one missing.” Silver smirked. “Wait, Mrs. Cheerilee! We’re here!” Completely out of breath, with their manes and wings ruffled like they’d been through a hurricane, Scoots and Rumble burst through the door with a pair of matching shiners and a couple of paper slips in their hooves. Mrs. Cheerilee blinked at the sight before shaking her head to take their hall passes and look through the note from the nurse. “Really, you two?” “It’s not as bad as it looks, Mrs. Cheerilee.” Scoots rubbed the back of her head, looking down. “Most ponies would say getting caught fighting on the first day of school is very bad.” “It was just a bit of sparring, though! We would have been fine if the bell hadn’t gone off early like that!” Her hoof brushed over her black eye, poking it as she tested its sensitivity. “The bell is timed, Scootaloo; it can’t ring early.” “It can if the clocks are all running fast!” Wings buzzing up small little cracks of lightning, Scoots looked to Rumble for support. “You’re just mad I won the bet. Ow! Hey! What was that for?!” Rubbing the back of his head, Rumble hip checked his fillyfriend. “If you’ve got to ask that—” She bumped him right back. “—you forfeit the bonus prize.” “Just take your seats before you get in even more trouble, you two.” Bringing her hoof to her forehead, Mrs. Cheerilee messaged her temple. “I’ll have the letters for your parents done by last period.” “The usual?” Scoots tilted her head with an impish grin. “It’s the first day of school.” Mrs. Cheerilee shook her head. “I think I’ll spare you and Abacus from torturing each other.” “Awesome.” Scoots skidded to the one desk left that wasn’t trapped up front. “Dibs!” “Of course, she sticks me up front.” Rumble sighed to himself as he picked the seat closest to the door. “At least I’ll be the first one out.” “Are we all settled then?” Mrs. Cheerilee glanced at the clock as we chorused various affirmatives. “Good. You all know each other more than enough by now, so we can skip introductions. Just let me pass out the usual start of the year announcements, and we can get start voting for class president.” “I nominate—” My hoof flew immediately into the air. “I nominate Night!” “—Diamond!” It wasn’t fast enough. She was onto me. “That’s wonderful, you two, but I’m not writing nominations down until I’m done passing these out.” Diamond and I eyed each other warily for a moment or two with the shuffling of paper as the only sound. “I told you I didn’t want to run this year.” “Poppycock. You only think you don’t want to run.” “You can’t make me accept.” “You think you can make me?” “I can when my back up plan is Snails.” “You wouldn’t dare!” “Alright, who has nominees for class president?” Mrs. Cheerilee grabbed her chalk, back turning at the perfect moment. “I nominate Diamond Tiara and Snails!” One hoof raised like lightning; the other hoof intercepted Diamond’s mouth. “Mfff!” Eyes wide, Diamond thrust her hoof in the air. “I also refuse any and all nominations, here and now! Having been class president for the past three years, I feel somepony new needs to take charge, and I fully endorse Diamond and Snails as being capable for the job!” “Mrgrmff!” Diamond waved her hoof like a loon under moon. “Really? Nopony’s ever nominated me for anything!” Snail’s big, goofy grin somehow got wider. I pulled my hoof away as Mrs. Cheerilee started to write down Snail’s name. “I nominate Apple Bloom!” “Well, shucks, I’m mighty flattered, Diamond, but I actually agree with Night here.” “I nominate Sweetie Belle!” “I like being secretary more.” “Scoota—” Diamond paused. “Silver Spoon?” “Hey!” Scoots scowled. “Pass.” Silver shrugged. “Too much work.” “Eurgh…. Fine. I accept, but only if no pony else gets nominated!” No pony else raised their hoof; Diamond’s fate was sealed. “I can’t believe Mrs. Cheerilee had to play tiebreaker.” Four periods later, I was still fuming as I sat down for lunch. “I can….” Diamond drooped, ears flattening against her head. “Oi. Stop it with the pity party.” I leaned over for a peck before nipping her ear. “Mrs. Cheerilee picked you for a reason.” “The last time I ended up class president, we ended up with a stained glass window of me.” “The last time you were elected, you thought your Mom was a decent role model.” Diamond’s face curdled into a horrific, many-chinned beast. “The no-good, two-bit, saddle-chaser.” “Right!” I forced myself to smile even as the rest of the girls sans Silver scooted back. “See how different you are, now? You’ll totally do a better job, and Mrs. Cheerilee knows that.” “H-h-hello. I’m n-not interrupting something, am I?” Poor Beanstalk quailed as the full eldritch might of Diamond’s displeasure blasted him as we all turned to see who was talking. “Bean! Bean, Bean, Bean!” I snagged him before he could evaporate, and plopped him down beside me—acting as a shield from Diamond. “Pop a squat and get ready to squawk. Girls, meet Greenbean, he’s the first year I helped out earlier today.” “It’s, uh… Beanstalk, Miss Nightingale, Ma’am.” “Well, yeah. I just figured you’d like a nickname that wasn’t Shrimp Breath. If you don’t like it, we can come up with something else, but it fits you being a first year.” “I’d, uh—” He gulped, glancing over the other tables. “—rather you just use my name.” Shaking his head, he closed his eyes. “Or Bean… Bean also works.” “Got it.” I grinned. “Say hello to Bean, girls!” “Hey.” Sweetie Belle beamed. “Howdy.” Apple Bloom smiled. “Sup.” Scoots smirked. “Charmed.” Silver was dead inside, like always. “A pleasure.” And Diamond’s face was still stuck like she smelled spoiled milk, but she tried. “There are things we can do that the teachers can’t. Teachers can’t back you up in a fight. We can. Teachers can’t pull pranks that knock ponies down a peg. We can. Most importantly, though, we can help your image where teachers can’t. You dig?” I grinned and slapped Bean on the back. “N-not really?” “Names have power.” Face finally twisted back to her normal, beautiful self, Diamond poked at her salad. “That’s why Night wanted to give you a new nickname. Shrimp Breath, Monkey Butt, Blank Flank; whenever a bully insults you like that, they’re trying to isolate you from the herd.” Looking up at Bean, she frowned, and I leaned in to nuzzle her. “When ponies see twerpy little Shrimp Breath getting picked on, they take a step back, and avoid the crossfire. When ponies see bright and friendly Greenbean get bullied? They’ll back you up instead.” “If he doesn’t like Greenbean, he doesn’t need to use it, Di.” “Yeah, yeah. I know….” Bean glanced between everypony, biting his lip. “So what’s yer story, Bean?” Apple Bloom tossed him one of her apples. “Everypony has one. You got any idea why Crusty’s got it in for you?” “He…” Mouth flapping wordlessly, Beanstalk slowly wilted. “It’s complicated….” The girls and I blinked. “Try us.” Silver’s mouth curved a fraction of an inch downwards as she leaned in. “I don’t want to talk about it.” Interesting…. Timid, little Bean had some real spunk buried deep inside if he could glare at Silver like that. “If you don’t want to, you don’t have to.” Fluttershy had soothed manticores with tones less soft than Sweetie’s. “It does make it kind of hard to help, though.” Scoots grumbled only to grin like a loon under moon. “Good thing there’s always plan B! How do you feel about learning to take on punks three times your size without a scratch?” “Uh….” “No, it doesn’t hurt as much as you’re thinking.” Popping a juice box in my mouth, I schlurped it dry. “Scoots might start you off training at full blast, but that’s why she’s not teaching.” “Hey!” “Are you?” Bean finally managed to somehow crunch into the apple Bloom gave him like it was a wet noodle. His ears perked as the juice hit, and then it was gone—as was the fate of all Sweet Apple Acres apples. His lunch soon started to follow. “Me?” I chuckled, holding up my hoof and looking it over. “Sweet Nightmother, no. I mean, I could… maybe? I can spar with you at least, but I’m out of practice fighting ponies bigger than me. I’m really not the best teacher for the job.” “Night, you regularly head into the Everfree forest with your dad and Fluttershy to wrestle full-grown manticores.” Silver narrowed her eyes as she adjusted her glasses. “Don’t feed us horseapples like that.” “That’s just a rumor—” “A true rumor.” “—that’s grown way out of hoof.” I set my hoof down with a frown. “Last I checked, the claim was I took on two hydras, a chimera, and the ghost of Nightmare Moon… at the same time!” “So you don’t wrestle manticores in the Everfree?” Silver’s mouth quirked up as I squirmed. “Well… no, I do….” I looked over at Bean. “It’s just one on one, though. I’m not anywhere near as good as my dad. That’s why you’re better off with him or my mom. They taught me most of what I know, and they don’t mind helping out friends if I bring them over.” “Your parents taught you to wrestle manticores.” It was a statement, not a question, as Bean’s face scrunched up. “Just my dad. Most towns don’t have monster attacks, so Mom never focused on those.” “Pffft!” Scoots ear flicked like it was on fire as she reached up to scratch it. “Yeah, she was too busy teaching you to fight dirtier than a diamond dog.” “Wet willies barely even count, and you know it.” I stuck out my tongue and wriggled it for good measure. “You’re the one who flaunts her flank to throw off Rumble.” “At least he dies happy.” With a smirk, she winked and returned fire. “Even the unconquerable Nightingale occasionally falls when I walk the walk.” “I told you, I slipped and fell.” I rustled my wings and tried not to blush as Bean made a choking noise. “There, there, Night. I’ve got this.” Diamond rubbed my withers and leaned over to Scoots with a predatory grin. “Hey, Scootaloo. Did I just hear you’ve been hitting on my fillyfriend?” “Uhhh….” “Cause I could have sworn you just said that.” “Nooooooo? I don’t know what you’re talking about, she totally slipped and fell.” “What have I gotten myself into?” Hacking and pounding his chest, Bean finally managed more than a wheeze. “Eh, it’s Ponyville. What do you expect?” Silver shrugged. “Yeah, this barely even registers on the crazy meter.” Scoots nodded. “So Beanie Boy? You wanna die happy?” “I think I’ll pass.” “Good! I was planning on practicing my wet willies anyways.” “I think he means he’ll pass on the training, Scoots.” I rolled my eyes. “Good going. You scared another one off.” “Look.” Bean shook his head, standing with the rest of his tray. “I’ll think about it, okay? I’m really thankful for this morning, but the more we talk about this, the more it feels like I’m just going to be a burden to you.” “Well, if that’s how you feel.” I grimaced. “Just remember that we’re here to help, okay?” Glancing around the first year side of the cafeteria, I stood in kind to shake his hoof. “And let us know if Crusty starts making trouble, alright?” “Will do.” With a nod, Bean was off, but I could see Crusty glaring at us all as Bean headed for an empty seat. Not the worst first day of school I’d had.