//------------------------------// // 8 - Thursday: Everybody Talks // Story: All These Midnight Days // by Ninjadeadbeard //------------------------------// “I actually miss Cordwood,” Trixie sighed as she wiped off another layer of Smooze from her jacket, “Disqord is, like, totally a jerk!” “Yeah, well… nobody’s perfect,” Midnight growled beneath her breath, and flicked bits of the goopy green gelatimorph off herself. “I just wish he’d take us somewhere that wasn’t immune to my magic.” The two girls were standing beside Midnight’s locker, where they were quickly using up Midnight and Twilight’s stash of wet-napkins in order to remove the strangely anti-magical remnants of Professor Disqord’s zeroth period course from their clothes. Unable to simply refresh themselves through Midnight’s magic, the two settled for tossing the used cleaning supplies into a levitating trash can. It was supposed to be a physics lesson. Instead, the whole class got to see what the Ooze Dimension was like, firsthand. “Still, Ooze-Trixie was kinda fun,” Trixie shrugged, pulling a wad of green goop from her ear, “And Ooze Twilight was still a total nerd…” Midnight drew back another wipe from her hair, confident that she’d finally extracted maximum Smooze from her head at last, when a strange sight caught her eye. Several long strands of dark purple hair were lying, tangled, amid the sludge. Stress, the little shadow in the back of her mind hissed, You didn’t lose even a wink of sleep before… She glared at the strands for less than a second before tossing the rag away, and got to work on her shoes. Luckily, Rarity had picked stylish and practical materials for them, so cleaning up would be easy. While wringing the last of the Smooze from her shirt, Trixie flicked a seemingly disinterested look over Midnight’s way. “Hey, Bestie?” she asked, seemingly casually, “You doing okay?” Trixie? Midnight thought, Interested in someone else? Must be up to something… “I’m fine,” she said, though the way she clenched her teeth had even caught her by surprise. “Yeah, you say that…” Trixie finished wiping down her legs, and continued with her hair, “… but you’ve been sort of… kinda… a huge jerk today. Being short-tempered, snapping at Ooze-Sunset…” “I’m not a morning person,” Midnight said quickly, finishing up her Smooze self-clean. She just wants you to be as broken a mess as she is… Trixie frowned, her fingers tapping nervously against each other. “Look, if this is about me helping your other, less important friends tie you up yesterday, Trixie said she was sorry!” Midnight sighed, and leaned against her locker. She reached up to her head with both hands… and then thought better of running them through her hair, instead rubbing remnant sleep from her eyes. “I’m not mad about that, Trixie,” Midnight said in a seemingly calm, reasonable voice, “I’m just…” “Not sleeping well?” Midnight’s lips drew into a grimace. “… Yeah. That.” “So, I guess the High and Mighty Moonbutt didn’t show?” Trixie asked, though her eyes were now roaming towards the inside of Twilight’s locker, possibly looking for food, but more likely for something to use against her later. Unfortunately, there were no diaries or scandalous posters to be seen. Unless you counted the odd shrine to that funny π thingie… Midnight closed it with a flick of aqua-blue magic, startling her blue magician friend. “No, she didn’t.” Midnight rubbed her eyes again. “And… the dreams are getting worse.” She took a breath. “Last night,” she began, slowly, “I… was back in Crystal Prep. Twilight too, but we sort of share dreams.” Trixie asked, hesitantly, “Was Principal Cinch there?” She wouldn’t understand… “No,” Midnight said, simply. “No, it… it was just me.” Lies aren’t conducive to friendship, sugarcube, another voice in Midnight’s head sighed, very much in Applejack’s most disappointed tone. “It wasn’t like the halls were twisted, or discolored, or that anyone there was a monster,” she pressed on, “But… that place never needed to be anything other than it was to be a nightmare…” Trixie’s hand settled on Midnight’s shoulder. She said nothing, until Midnight opened her eyes, and saw the worry in Trixie’s. “Hey,” she said, quietly, “If you don’t feel like doing the show with me today…” “No!” Midnight protested, more vigorously than even she’d meant to, “Uh… no. I’m good to help. Honestly, I think I could use the distraction. Twilight’s just doing inventory after school anyway, so I won’t be needed for a while.” “What are you needed for?” Trixie asked, eyebrows raised, “I mean, I know you’re both eggheads, but what actually are you building?” Midnight smiled, glad at the brief distraction. “Well, the big problem with setting up a point-to-point VR Simulated Communication System between here and Equestria, besides keeping the portals open,” she said, her smile growing as her voice quickened, “is battery life! So, Twilight and I thought we could combine Science and Magic to make a more stable power source, a generator of unlimited – but safe – power to, uh, power the hologram-projectors.” She didn’t squee, but came quite close. Trixie hadn’t moved since Midnight started. She didn’t even blink. “So…” she frowned, “You two are building, what? A nuclear generator?” Midnight shook her head. “No! Nothing like that!” “Oh good!” Trixie sighed, and wiped her brow with one hand, “You had me worried there for a second…” “It’ll involve a lot more blackholes than a typical nuclear reactor,” Midnight tittered, excitedly, “Though we’ll still need to procure some graphite to protect against—” “Are you kidding me!?” Trixie shouted. Midnight blinked. “What? The science is sound!” Trixie pinched the bridge of her nose, and slowly recomposed herself. “Bestie? If you get me sucked into a black hole, Trixie will kill you.” “You’d be dead too, you know?” Midnight growled. Then, with a curious look in her eyes, she mused, “Though, if that happened, we’d be trapped in the event horizon for all eternity, neither dying nor living, so I don’t…” A sudden cry cut her off. “Hey!” Both girls turned towards the sound, and saw a familiar, green-haired girl racing over to them. The ruffled – and now panting – form of Wallflower Blush came to a skidding stop in front of the lockers, her hands on her knees. “Hi,” she breathed, “Glad I caught you, Midnight…” Wallflower’s breathing slowed, and the often-rumpled girl stood up straight again. Her cheeks were still flush from the run, but her eyes were focused like lasers on Midnight. “Um, can we help you?” Trixie butted in with a light touch of mean-girl energy. The irritated look she immediately got from Midnight, who half-turned back to glower Trixie’s way, caused her to blanch, and take an appropriate step back. Thus, unhindered by Trixie’s jealous streak, Midnight could face Wallflower head on. “Can I help you?” she asked in a softer tone. Wallflower blushed. She glanced over her shoulder, and bit her lip. Then, she asked, “Can… can we talk alone?” Midnight glanced behind her, and gave Trixie a meaningful look. Thankfully, Trixie noticed the look, for once. She nodded, and began pulling back. “Right, Trixie has some stuff to get ready for tonight anyway. Catch you at lunch?” “Wouldn’t miss it!” Midnight called back. For a moment, she even felt the smile touching her lips. Then, she turned around. “So, what’s the problem?” she asked, crossing her arms. Another distraction from what’s really eating you… Wallflower looked about again, that same worried expression fixed on her face. Midnight sighed, “We’re alone. Zero and First have an extra five minutes in between them, and when was the last time anyone besides… well, me and Twilight, ever tried to be on time around here?” As her words appeared to filter through, Wallflower took a long, deep breath and sighed. Her shoulders relaxed, and a little more of her own color even looked to be coming back. “I… screwed up,” Wallflower began, slowly, “Like, really, really badly.” Midnight frowned. “Considering the last time you ‘screwed up badly’, you violated my memories and that of my friends and almost…” She paused. Midnight closed her eyes, and took a slow breath herself. Trixie was right… you jerk. “Sorry,” she said, “Continue.” Wallflower stared at her for a moment, but pressed on. “You remember what happened to the… the Memory Stone?” she whispered, eyes looking away from Midnight’s. “I think Princess… Me,” Midnight sighed, and shrugged, “took the bits back to Equestria for study. Why?” Wallflower kept her gaze on the floor for several long, quiet seconds. For her part, Midnight held back, not wanting to push the girl in any way. She could still remember the moments that had led up to her initial ‘birth’. Wallflower probably also wouldn’t do well to have a chorus pressuring her. Then, Wallflower’s fists clenched. She reached up, and grabbed for something at her collar. Her hands withdrew from just under her frumpy sweater, a light string necklace coming with it. A necklace with a shard of stone at its clasp. “I’m sorry!” Wallflower closed her eyes again, tears forming quickly. “I found it last week, and I… I didn’t know what to do!” After an initial moment of shock, the analytical side of Midnight began to churn and whir to life like an engine, freshly oiled and set loose. She leaned forward, and reached out for the stone. Taking it between two fingers, she searched the shard with exacting precision. Honestly, it looked like every other pebble or stone strewn about the parking lot and the school fields. Ah, she said to herself as her eyes found the edge of a carved swirl, There it is. “And… you brought it to me because…?” she asked, leaving the question hanging in the air. Wallflower blinked. “You’re not mad I kept it?” she squeaked. “You’re talking to Magic-Problem-Solving Midnight, at the moment,” she said, dropping the stone shard, “We can freak out and scream when Revenge-Midnight returns. Now, what’s the actual problem here?” Wallflower blinked, again. Then, perhaps deciding to just go with her good fortune, she asked, “You can do magic, right? Like the Rainbooms? And the Princess?” Midnight smirked. “Wallflower… Wally. Can I call you Wally?” she said, polishing her nails against her jacket lapel, “How fast is Rainbow Dash?” “Um… really fast?” Wallflower shrugged. Midnight shook her head, and laughed, “Wallflower, I’ve seen Rainbow Dash play one-on-one basketball against herself. Compared to anyone else, she’s the fastest thing imaginable.” She folded her arms again, and shot the gardening enthusiast a triumphant grin. “And in Magic? I’m above her by about the same margin. So just tell me what’s up. I can help.” Wallflower took another breath, and cupped the stone in her hands, like it was a fragile piece of glass. “The problem is, I want to restore a memory. Or rather, memor-ies. For someone I know.” “Oh?” Midnight leaned forward again. “What sort of memories?” “The, um…” Wallflower lived up to her surname, suddenly. Her whole face shifted from its natural green shade to a hot, flaming red. She pointed her eyes down, towards her feet. “The… amorous… sort…” she finished, her voice croaking as it slid into near-silence. Midnight’s eyebrows shot up, and her lips drew back in a grimace. “Oh… bad breakup?” she asked. Wallflower seemed to shrink more and more into her sweater. “No,” she said, finally, “It was actually… really good. Too good.” Midnight furrowed her brows. “How can a relationship be too good?” Wallflower looked away. “When you don’t think you deserve nice things.” A distant door opened, and slammed shut. The far-off sound of students beginning to drag themselves into the main school building could be heard, but did not intrude on the bubble of silence that seemed to fall over Midnight and Wallflower. Midnight’s voice had failed her, for a moment, as she took in what the other girl had said. It was so familiar a feeling that she almost felt like she was back in her nightmares; a place where everything she’d ever said or thought could be thrown back at her in some way. But those thoughts were for later. Midnight reached out a hand, and gently touched Wallflower’s chin. Guiding Wallflower’s face back up, Midnight fixed the girl with as hard, and as baleful a glare as she could. “Never say that again,” she whispered. “You deserve nice things.” Wallflower was so distracted by Midnight’s eyes, full of blue flames and an unspoken wrath, that she hardly noticed, nor complained, when Midnight took hold of the stone around Wallflower’s neck with that same hand, and tore it from her. The blue light flowed from Midnight’s eyes into her hands. She held the stone out, and began to pour her magic out. The lockers around her and Wallflower shook violently in their mounts, and a few loose screws and nails clattered across the floor. Give me your magical secrets, Midnight demanded, scowling all the while. A thaumo-spectral analysis would show lingering magical energies, but if I apply that to a more comprehensive sympathetic-spell, I could then re-route a chronomic function… Wallflower watched in stunned silence as the magical light condensed around the stone, which was now floating between Midnight’s hands. It might have been the unflattering fluorescent  lighting, or the way magic flowed along her arms and clothing, but Midnight Sparkle was far more… frightening than Wallflower had initially thought possible. Earlier, it had seemed so simple. So easy. Just walk up and ask the clone of everyone’s favorite nerd-girl to see about fixing that one magic artifact she desperately needed. No problem. Right? Right. Wallflower had been tending to her garden during the finale of the Friendship Games. And even from her secluded little grove a stone’s throw away from the school, she could see the sky rip open as a Goddess of Dark Magic had descended upon the games. Seeing a disaster at a distance was one thing. Having the power to make the monster forget about you was also another thing. Somewhere, in the back of Wallflower’s mind, she remembered a tiny little conversation she’d had with Sunset, back when the two had really opened up to each other after the Memory Stone thing. Wallflower thought she could see shadows branching off of the girl before her. Dancing shadows in a corona of starfire. Wallflower suddenly realized she was the dumb kid in the old stories, asking the all-powerful witch for a wish. “… aaaaaaand, done!” Midnight sighed in relief as she finally let go of her spells. Only seconds had passed, but with the sheer amount of testing and analyzing she’d gotten done, it felt like she’d just tried running a marathon. She shook her head again, and held the stone up to catch the unflattering light. “Alright, from my analysis, I…” Midnight frowned. She looked over to Wallflower, and tilted her head to one side. “Uh, Wally?” she asked, taking special note of Wallflower’s rigid body posture, and the fact that her pupils were shivering dots at present, “You okay?” Wallflower blinked twice before answering. “Uh, yeah!” she said, a bit too loud, “No problem! Um… what did you say?” Midnight, deciding that her time was running short, shrugged off the reaction. “I said, I can’t find any trace of the stolen memories,” she said, tossing the stone back to its owner, “I’m sorry, but it’s just not possible to restore memories that have been taken past their three-day expiration date.” Wallflower’s face fell. “Oh…” she said, voice croaking now from a complete loss of anything resembling energy, “So, I guess I should have known. I… I ruined everything.” “I wouldn’t say that,” said Midnight, shrugging, “Just that you can’t restore the very original memories.” Wallflower gripped the stone, tightly, with both hands. “You… You think you can…?” “Close your eyes,” Midnight commanded, “Quickly!” Wallflower, not wanting to overthink the moment, did so. Midnight reached out her hand, and pointed one finger directly at the rumpled green romantic. A flicker of light formed at the fingertip, and a bit of magical static formed between the two girls. “Think of the person whose memory you want to restore,” she whispered, “And think of what you want them to remember.” Compared to her last bit of sorcery, this was far less… dramatic. There weren’t any explosions, or thrumming sounds, or anything cool and nifty like that. There was a bit of sparkly light, and a sound not unlike a buzzing bee. But nothing would catch fire, and nothing would… Hm. Best not to rule out any sort of collateral damage. Midnight felt something, a presence. No, an impression. It was like a painter seeing the completed work before ever touching ink to page. The bubble of memories and feelings drifted, invisibly, through the psychic dimension. She took those feelings, and pulled on them. Balled up, tangled, and interwoven now, Midnight held the whole mess up in one hand, her hand that had cast the spell initially… And then, she snapped her fingers. Pinkie Pie paused, briefly, in the consumption of her waffle stack. She marveled at the way her left eye twitched, and how her knees and elbows vibrated precisely in a C-flat. “Oh boy,” she groaned, her Pinkie Sense never leading her astray, “Someone is stealing Discord’s bit…” “And done!” Midnight proclaimed, proudly. Then, she snorted, and laughed, “Again, I mean.” Wallflower’s eyes fluttered open. She looked about, and then down to the stone in her hands. “It doesn’t feel any different than before,” she said, confused. “I thought you were gonna put the memories in the stone or something?” Midnight flicked her hand irritably through her hair. “And why would I do that? It’s so much easier to just let the memories seek out the recipient directly.” There was an ominous creaking sound. Midnight looked to her locker door, and found Wallflower’s hand gripping it. The metal was about to buckle under her white-knuckled grip. “You… you did what?” Wallflower’s voice came out hollow, breathless. Midnight noted the way her eyes were widening, and her jaw going slack. The way Wallflower’s breathing had sped up was also a little disconcerting. “Um…” Midnight grabbed one arm in a feeble attempt at covering herself without looking like it, “I… may have sent the memories you were thinking of to whoever it was you were thinking about…?” Wallflower hissed, panic in her eyes, “You did what!?” But before Midnight could say anything more, a fell wind blew through the halls. A distant rumble became a roar, and a cry of rage, terror, and anguish shook the school to its very foundation. “WALLFLOWER BLUSH!!!!!” “… I’m dead,” Wallflower sighed, leaning into the lockers behind her. She pressed one hand to her heart, looking for a pulse. “I wanted to talk first…” “Wait,” Midnight turned to face the oncoming storm, “Was that…?” A smattering of students swept past the two arcana-dealing girls, all fleeing from the terror that lay behind them. Even the normally unflappable Derpy streaked by while wailing at the horrors about to be unleashed upon the school halls. “Why is it always magic!?” she cried, before banking around the corner like a track star. And, at last, she appeared. The one for whom Wallflower had done all this… A pale-yellow girl turned the corner, and glared down the hall. She adjusted her heavy, black glasses, and flicked her tangled nest of red and lavender hair back. The black sweater, usually a little scruffy, or fuzzy, now made her look no less than a dark wraith, descending upon her prey. I should go, Midnight thought to herself, being capable of knowing when a train wreck was in progress. ... But I can’t look away… “H-hi… Moony…” Wallflower squeaked, and turned to face her doom, “How…?” “No!” Moondancer snapped, a pointed finger already up in Wallflower’s face, “No! You don’t get to call me that!” Moondancer’s scowl could have melted a block of iron, Midnight thought, and probably whatever was sitting behind it. Her fury was overwhelming, and even upsetting to look at. The tears at the edges of Moondancer’s eyes were steaming. “How could you do that to me?” she snarled, “To us?” Wallflower wilted beneath the scouring, but she didn’t run. Running, and hiding, and erasing minds was precisely how she didn’t want to resolve things anymore. “I wasn’t thinking…” she answered, her voice lowering into a scared whisper, even as Moondancer loomed over her, “I was scared. Things weren’t supposed to be that way. I wasn’t supposed… wasn’t supposed to be happy… “I’m sorry,” she said, teardrops hitting the tiles below, “I don’t deserve what we had. What I took from you.” Midnight glanced between the two girls, one nearly aflame, the other slowly crumbling into dust. Their vision is based on movement, she thought to herself. If I just don’t move… Moondancer’s scowl didn’t change. But, as her breathing evened out, and her shoulders lost some of their furious rigidity, she slowly reached her hands out… And gripped Wallflower’s sweater in a vice. She hauled the frumpled, emotional mess back up to her feet, and planted their noses within inches of one another. Wallflower swallowed, fear replacing shame for a moment. “You…” Moondancer hissed, “… are going to meet up with me at Sweet Snacks Café. We are going to have shakes. Strawberry for me. Vanilla for you.” Blinking, Wallflower tried to make eye contact with Midnight, but a second pull from Moondancer brought her attention back to where it needed to be. “And then,” Moondancer continued, “We are going rollerblading. Am I making myself clear?” A confused look came over Wallflower’s face. She furrowed her brows, and bit her lip in thought. “Why is that so familiar?” she asked no one in particular. “Because that was our second date,” Moondancer let her girlfriend drop from her grasp, “According to… whatever you just did. And it looked like the best day of my life, and I will have that memory back!” She jabbed Wallflower with her finger again, then pointed over the girl’s shoulder. “Now,” Moondancer said, in a menacing tone that spoke of dark and unpleasant repercussions for denying her, “You will march to class, have a good day at school, and I will see you around six.” “Um…” Wallflower glanced away, “Aren’t you…?” “Mad?” Moondancer sneered, “Oh, I’m apoplectic. But everyone gets a second chance. That’s what Twilight taught me… at least before she melted her brain…” She glanced at Midnight, causing her to flinch instinctively. “Hey,” said Moondancer, “Thanks.” Midnight just nodded, afraid to provoke another reaction. Moondancer turned back to Wallflower, and said with grit, “Well? What are you waiting for!?” Wallflower scrambled at once, almost leaving a puff of smoke in her wake as she took off in a dead sprint, the memory stone shard clattering uselessly to the floor. Funny enough, Midnight could have sworn Wallflower was blushing again as she ran… She turned back around, but Moondancer was already walking in the other direction. Midnight weighed the relative pros and cons… and made a quick decision. “Hey!” she called out. Moondancer half-turned, and stared back at her. Their eyes locked for what felt like an uncomfortably long time. Then, Midnight broke the silence. “We cool?” she asked, quietly, tapping her fingers agitatedly. Moondancer watched her friend-but-also-not-friend for another long, uncomfortable moment. “Yeah,” she said at last, a tiny, but genuine smile touching her lips, “We cool.” And, with that, she left. Midnight finally let go of the breath she’d been holding, and planted her back to her locker for support. “Okay,” she breathed, “That… was a lot in a very short amount of time. When did Moondancer get scary? I should really stop helping people…” A familiar voice spoke up from where Moondancer had wandered off. “That’s probably not the sort of Friendship Lesson you were supposed to learn.” “Bite me, Twi,” Midnight grumbled, and looked up at her sister. “Not in the mood for your…” Midnight’s face paled. Twilight noticed. “Is it that bad?” she asked. Midnight scanned Twilight’s tired, sagging face, and made a note to apologize to Trixie later. All that worry from her friend was probably justified if Midnight looked half as wretched as her twin sister. “Yes,” was all she said. Twilight, sighing herself, slid down to sit beside Midnight. For a moment, and just a moment, they were silent. Their shoulders touched, and that almost seemed enough. “You left before I could ask about the dream,” Twilight unfortunately broke that silence. “Were you…?” Midnight didn’t say anything, instead choosing to bury her face in her arms. Why bother? Twilight was in the dream. She knew what was going on. “I didn’t want to talk about it,” she said, finally, “I still don’t. Not yet.” Twilight, perhaps not noticing the tone her sister took, or perhaps ignoring it, replied, “I know you never really got closure for everything that happened at Crystal Prep. I got to keep all those memories…” “Did you ever make up with Her?” The word ‘Her’ was never quite so venomous, so direly spoken, as it was when referring to one particular woman. “No…” Twilight shook her head, and quietly removed her glasses for cleaning. “… No, Cinch left before I got around to it.” “You talked to the Shadowbolts after she left.” Midnight looked over to her sister, and raised a questioning eyebrow. “You were never going back for Her.” Twilight regarded Midnight with an even look. She replaced her glasses, and sighed. “You’re right. She’s the one we both never got closure with…” “I don’t want closure with Her, Twilight,” Midnight growled, and shot back up to her feet, “I want to toss her down a well, or into whatever oven she keeps around to cook fat kids in…” Twilight snorted a laugh, and giggled back on the floor. “Okay!” she tittered, “That’s mean, but not inaccurate.” Despite herself, and her own personal pledge to remain in a bad mood, Midnight soon joined in the short giggle-fit. She and Twilight laughed for several seconds longer, until the five-minute bell rang through the halls. As the two gathered their books, and started together for Cheerilee’s classroom, Midnight couldn’t help but feel a lightness creep back into her step. Despite their dreams growing darker and darker, the simple act of laughing with her better half made it all seem… It won’t last. The Shadow was back. Things don’t get better, it said. Other people change for the better. You change for the worse. Why fight fate? Midnight almost missed a step. And then she got angry. No shadow, no dark thoughts or emotional baggage was going to tie her down, or ruin her day. She was past those things, right? Of course, right! Midnight had her friends. She had her sister. She had an appreciable amount of her old mind intact, and a whole new set of memories and quirks with which to tackle life! She wasn’t about to let something like depression get the better of her. The Shadow receded, and Midnight pressed on. Yes, Literature Class would definitely help clear her head. And she sat near Sunset, so maybe they could even talk about… She blinked. “Twilight?” she said, gripping her sister’s wrist to get her attention, “Where’s Sunset?” Twilight’s eyes drew inward, just a skosh. Just enough for Midnight to know that she had already found something out, and didn’t want to bring it up right away. “Twi…?” “She…” Twilight stopped in the middle of the hall, and took a deep breath. “Sunset’s staying in Equestria today. I guess she’s still… dealing with what happened. She texted this morning and, I guess it all just came down on her at once. “You alright?” Midnight said nothing, at first. She gave away nothing. She merely pursed her lips, looked down at her shoes, and hummed to herself. “Oh.” She said this out loud. Still dealing with what I did to her, she said in her heart. She turned wordlessly towards class, and started off again. And the Shadow followed. “So, you see, all things being equal… I’m not sure if I’m really a dog anymore.” Spike sighed, and rolled over onto his back. He nestled down into the age-worn pillows and cushions on the Apple’s sofa, and took a long, hard sniff of them, for comfort. Smells were important to dogs, after all, and the Apple’s had the oldest, most storied smells around. Smells like that were a sign of stability in an otherwise cat-infested, mad, mad, mad, mad world. Since Spike’s audience of one wasn’t interrupting with questions or comments, he continued. “I mean, being a dog is great! No worries, whatsoever. Just you and your humans. But… what is all that doggie freedom if there’s no intellectual stimulation? No challenge!” He offered up a little whine. “I mean, I’m smarter than most humans I’ve met… present company excluded.” Spike smiled, chagrined. Hopefully his host wouldn’t take that last one too seriously. Big Macintosh, sitting in an old chair, looked up from his whittling with soulful eyes, and gave the little dog a soft smile. It may seem strange to some for him and Twilight’s puppy to be friends, but Mac hadn’t made a big deal out of it yet. Once it was clear that Big Mac was still listening, Spike continued. “I’m smart these days. Too smart,” he said, scrunching his nose up at the confusing conceptions he was grappling with, “I mean, I have a Hooftube channel. I help Twilight out with her experiments. But… I can’t really seem to connect with dogs anymore. “Here, watch!” Spike gave a quick, sharp whistle. Big Mac was quite surprised his doggie lips could even do that. He was even more surprised when the family dog, Winona, came racing into the room. She came to a halt mere feet from where Spike lay. “Sit!” the puppy commanded, and to Big Mac’s further surprise, his dog did just that. Spike then said, “Roll over!” Winona complied, tongue lolling out of her mouth as she hopped to Spike’s commands. “Good girl,” he said, reaching out a short foreleg to pat the other dog on her head. Praise over and done with, Winona simply curled up on the ground, and rested contentedly. Alright… Big Mac supposed he’d have to give Spike that one. “Winona treats me like a human,” Spike sighed again, “So do all the dogs at the park. I don’t have anyone to talk to about this, you know?” Big Mac nodded along, and gave nothing more than a muted ‘hm’, not wanting to interrupt. Spike rolled over onto his belly, and groaned. “So, if I stay a dog, I’m alone,” he explained, “And if I take Midnight up on her offer…” “Ya think she can really do it?” Mac asked, finally cutting in. Spike gave his friend a single, raised eyebrow, and said, “Dude, I’ve seen both of them spit in Nature’s eye more than a few times. If anyone can do it, it’s the Sparkle sisters.” For once, Spike wished he really had hands. They always looked so convenient for knotting up one’s fingers together. He figured, from the way most humans did it, that it was a stress-reliever, and he needed some of that today. “What if I’m overstepping?” he asked, though not necessarily of Big Mac, “What if they don’t think of me as family? If I’m not their pet… will they even want me?” Before Spike could let out another dog-like whine, he felt a heavy pressure come over his head. A set of huge pink hands gave him a light rub atop his ears, and all was right with the world. “Don’t you be thinkin’ that,” Big Mac admonished in his molasses-slow voice, “I know yer family loves you, if they feel even half of the affection Twilight shows you on a daily basis. Least, as far as I’ve seen.” Spike chuckled, and pushed his friend’s hands away. “Yeah, I… I guess I’m just overthinking this. Thanks, Big Mac. You’re good to vent at.” “That’s what Granny always says,” the big man grinned, and stood back up, “Now, while I gotcha here… y'all wanted ta take a look at my O&O set?” “Oh, would I!?” Spike leapt up from the couch like he was expecting to fly. “Shining taught me how to play! Do you know anyone else? Maybe we could get a group together?” Big Mac did actually give it a thought… and quite reasonably did not say the first, second, or even fifteenth thing that occurred to him at the moment. Mostly as he knew very few folks who were in on Canterlot City’s open magic secret, but bringing that up right now would probably not help Spike’s mood. Instead, Big Mac had an idea. An awful idea. An awful, awful, wonderful idea. “Ya know?” he said, slowly, as the two made their way to the kitchen, “My old history teacher from the high school taught me to play. I bet Mister Cordwood would love to play again…” Thursdays. It was always Thursdays. Wednesday, you could at least say that the week was half-over. Friday, you could rejoice in the coming weekend. Parties, relaxation… whatever you could want. But Thursdays were nothing. They were the doldrums of the week. The banal, void-like crepuscular… Aria Blaze sighed, internally. Even talking to herself, she got the point. Thursdays were lame. And Thursdays the hour before the high school got out were worse, especially if you were working retail at the mall. As she was now doing, stuck behind an obnoxiously neon-lit desk, wearing an ill-fitting uniform covered in electronic circuitry. Because electronics store, apparently. It was touching of Sunset Shimmer to have convinced the owner to give her a job, but… well. Retail. Still, she thought, could be worse. “Hey there, Aria…” Like now. This is worse. This is very worse… Zephyr Breeze strutted into the Ohm Depot like he owned the place, kicking up his flip-flopped feet and swinging his arms with utterly unearned swagger. The meat-eating grin he wore only managed to make Aria’s skin crawl as he strode on up to her desk. “Zephyr,” she breathed, the desk beneath her hand groaning against the sudden, angry pressure put upon it, “I told you I wasn’t interested.” He cocked one eyebrow up, his sheer ego probably blocking whatever signal Aria was trying to send. “Ah, now!” he said, leaning onto Aria’s front desk, “Don’t be that way, baby. The Z-Man is gonna treat you to a de-lectable dinner tonight.” “You steal a bunch of coupons to the pizza place?” she asked, forgetting for a moment that Fluttershy had warned her against engaging, even in put-downs. “Taco Hut, actually,” he said with an oblivious flourish. Then, holding out a pack of said coupons, he smiled, and added, “Now, sweet Aria, what time can I pick you up?” Aria’s face was, as ever, as passive and unreadable as a very angry stone wall. She looked down at the coupons. Then, she looked back up to the smirking, man-bun-wearing skunk who always timed his breaks to cross the mall, come into her shop, and annoy her to no end. Sorry, Fluttershy, she thought to herself, but he needs to learn. She took a breath, and began to speak in her typical, unimpressed tone. “Murder is against Ohm Depot’s rules of employee conduct,” she said, casually, “But I’d make an exception for you. I already have the shovels, accomplices, and a van.” Zephyr grimaced, but he didn’t lower the coupons, or drop the idiot grin completely. “Oh…” he started to say before Aria continued to talk over him. “I wouldn’t date you if you were the last living organism on the planet, and even then, it’d either be a pity date, or I’d be rebounding after getting dumped by a rock who couldn’t handle the fact that I have commitment issues…” Zephyr’s eyes widened, and the smirk finally left his face completely. He bit his lip, and said, “Okay, uh, that’s harsh, and a little projection-y, but…” “Zephyr,” Aria snarled in the calmest tone she could muster, “I am not into guys in the slightest, but even if I was, I wouldn’t go out with you because you are a low, cretinous thing. You are a hollow shell with a shriveled soul. A jackanape. A cream-faced loon…” Aria hardly seemed to notice the barcode scanner crack in her hand, but Zephyr clearly did, as he began to step slowly back from the silent, seething woman. “You are an eater of broken meats,” she continued, unabating, “a base, proud, shallow, beggarly, three-suited, hundred-pound, filthy, worsted-stocking knave… and if you’re not out of this store in the next five seconds, I am going to skin you alive and wear you to your mother’s birthday party. “Am. I. Clear?” Zephyr paused, as the onslaught came to an end. “Was that first part a quote, or…?” It was with no small amount of déjà vu that Midnight walked up to the Ohm Depot once again. Or, for the first time? “Huh,” she mused to herself, and hefted the backpack with her regular clothes over her shoulder, “Does it count as me working here if Twilight was the personality in charge when we were hired? Or, do either of us work here, considering…?” She shook her head. “Come on, Midnight,” she coached herself, “Stop thinking that way. You don’t need to add to the voices.” Midnight’s eyes narrowed. “Oh… I’m calling them The Voices now. Joy…” Well, in either case, she had somewhere to be, and someone to talk to. And standing about, feeling sorry for herself and giving the Shadow more ammunition for her pity party – Pinkie’s least-favorite sort of party, as it happened – wasn’t helping with that. So, after straightening up, and pressing down the skirt of her magician-assistant outfit, she took one long step towards the store… … and had to dive out of the way as a green smear streaked past her, and tore off for parts unknown at speeds Midnight had only considered theoretical. She hopped back up to her feet, and shot the rapidly retreating form a confused glare. “Was… was that guy crying?” she asked no one in particular. Midnight huffed, and decided that, whoever that strange person was, it was no concern of hers. She wasn’t here for him. The déjà vu came back, stronger than ever as she entered the store. The small space was covered in strings of neon brilliance, all made up to resemble computer circuitry, and its walls held racks full of (prop) phones, tablets, headphones, chargers, and even a few packs of replacement wires, plugs, and computer maintenance equipment. There was also a small case of gum, on the main desk. Only Mr. Tape Deck, the store’s owner, could explain that. “Hey, Aria!” she called out to the only worker at station during the dull, pre-rush hour, “What was that all about?” The former siren glanced up from her computer screen, and the permanent scowl she always sported seemed to melt into a shape one might consider neutral, or perhaps vaguely interested. She casually tossed what looked to be a coupon booklet over her shoulder and towards the back wall trash bin. “Hey, Midnight.” Aria sounded almost bored. That almost was about as enthusiastic a response as Midnight could have hoped for. “Just treating Fluttershy’s brother with all the respect he deserves.” Midnight half-spun around, wide eyes hunting the near-empty halls for a sign of that strange, green blur. “That was Fluttershy’s brother?” she gasped. “I think I’m feeling ashamed of him by proxy…” Aria chuckled, darkly. “Yeah, Zeph’s an idiot and everyone hates him around here. I’ve only been here a day or two, and he’s hit on me at least a dozen times.” Still smirking gleefully at someone else’s expense, Aria frowned at Midnight’s obvious distress. “You’re friends with Fluttershy. Don’t you remember?” Midnight snorted, and hardly tried to hide her annoyed pout. “No… I didn’t.” When Midnight turned back around, Aria’s eyes were open and giving her a look like the Dazzling thought she was crazy. Or, more likely, Aria was staring at Midnight’s outfit. “You like it?” Midnight chuckled, and did a little twirl to show off the ridiculous, skirted costume she still wore from Trixie’s show. Aria shook her head, and threw on a cruel smirk. “Did the circus have an opening for a new clown? Or do I have to rethink this whole relationship?” Midnight felt a brief flare of panic well up in her chest… but she pushed it down as swiftly as it appeared, and snapped back, with a smirk of her own. “Like you have room to talk!” She planted her hands on her hips, and tilted her head to one side. “I mean, I do love a good bit of science, but this…” “… Is a uniform, jerk,” Aria grumbled, but with just enough lightness in her tone to tell Midnight she wasn’t too upset. Midnight strutted up to the desk, swinging her backpack off her shoulder and planting it on the table next to the item scanner. “Oh, I know,” she laughed, checking her bag’s zipper, “Twilight works here part-time. I think she’d wear that thing casually if Rarity promised not to murder her.” Aria’s face froze. While Midnight checked her bag, the other girl’s eyes widened, and began blinking rapidly. “Uh… Midnight?” Aria said, slowly, her solemn tone enough to catch Midnight’s attention, “I, uh… I was hired to replace a girl who stopped showing up…” Midnight… didn’t seem to react. She also didn’t seem to move, except to move her backpack’s zipper up, and then down. Up, and down. The thousand-yard stare, however, made Midnight’s mechanical movements a touch more unsettling than Aria expected. Midnight’s quickening breath, and rapidly sweat-beading brow made this even worse. Aria swallowed, and leaned in. “Midnight? Is something…?” “PHONE!” Midnight shouted, hands flying up into the air. She immediately threw herself over the counter, grasping for the display models. “NEED PHONE NOW!” “Whoa! Whoa!” Aria cried out, and grabbed the panicking girl’s wrists. After a few seconds of Midnight wriggling like a fish in her grasp – the irony was not lost on the former-siren – Aria managed to growl out, “It was a joke! A joke!” Midnight’s whole body slackened, like a puppet getting its strings cut. Her eyes stared, unblinking at nothing. She remained half-leaning upright only because Aria continued to hold onto her wrists. “Uh…” Aria glanced around, nervously, “You okay? Is it weird that I found the panicking less weird?” “Okay?” Midnight squeaked out in a tiny voice. She blinked her eyes, mechanically, and drew in a sharp breath. Midnight snapped upright, almost slapping Aria’s hands aside. “Am I okay!?” she snarled, cheeks flush and eyes almost electric as she glared down Aria, “Did you miss the thing yesterday about me and my sister dealing with memory loss?” “I take it, that was in poor taste…” Aria bit her lip again, and tried very hard to look away from the orbs of death glaring back at her. “You think!” Midnight threw her arms up in the air, before grabbing at her hair and growling, “I’ve only been my own person for a few days, and I’m already dealing with… with having a psychotic episode! ANOTHER ONE!!! “Do you have any idea what ‘too soon’ means?” The store rang with Midnight’s furious cry. Even a few of the display cases rattled lightly. But, while the scream still reverberated in the air, Aria was already glaring, already snapping back. “Kinda!” she half-shouted, before remembering how empty and echoey the mall was this time of day. Her voice, so soon after Midnight’s outburst, seemed to echo off into the distance. Then, quieter, with a hot red blush forming on her face, she said again, “Kinda.” Aria crossed her arms, and looked away. For a solitary moment, Midnight was sure she would explode. Her heart pounded in her chest, and a red mist was growing within her vision. Any second now, she might finally cut loose, and… Aria’s eyes were off. Something about them was wrong. Midnight hadn’t really known any of the sirens, even in her former incarnation, and so all of her impressions of them had been formed through hearsay, stories told to her by her friends, and the past two days or so. She was certain sirens didn’t cry, if the tales were true. Now, Aria wasn’t crying, and Midnight had a pretty solid idea that she’d be in a hospital quickly if she ever said something like that where Aria could hear her… but Midnight knew that look. She made that look, more than once. Usually alone, after dealing with Cinch, or Lemon Zest, or Sugarcoat, or… “Talk to me,” she said, though her tongue felt like it was trying to talk through marshmallows. The bile of anger was still up in Midnight’s throat, though she managed to pull it back. Aria half-turned back, eyes narrowing, becoming guarded. “Huh?” “You said, ‘kinda’,” Midnight said, forcing herself to meet Aria’s untrusting stare, “What did you mean by that?” “Why do you care?” Aria grumbled, casually wiping at the edges of her eyes, her glare daring Midnight to bring up the surprise moisture she found there. “What are you up to?” Midnight held that glare. “Aria,” she said, softly, one hand slowly reaching up, attempting to cross the emotional-picket line across the desk, “It sounds like you have something to talk about. And…” She took a steadying breath, and pressed on. “If you want this to work, like I do, then we need to be honest about these things. I… I’m sorry for blowing up, just now,” she said, her hand finding Aria’s, who did not resist the contact, “I’m scared, and… and I was hoping you wouldn’t bring that up. Not yet. “So, I’m sorry,” Midnight said again, “But it sounds like… maybe there’s a reason why you said what you said? Will you tell me?” Aria glared. She glared at Midnight, and then glared down where their hands met. She glared into space, or perhaps a place and time no longer there. Then, Aria glared back up at Midnight. She huffed out her nose. “Midnight… I’ve been sixteen for one-thousand years,” she whispered, a touch of anger in her tone. When Midnight didn’t respond, she added, “And for all of that time, my default state was ‘absolute witch’.” She slowly let go of Midnight’s hand, and planted her own on the desk, letting her whole body weigh down on it. Aria bit her lip, and continued staring away from Midnight as she spoke. “Ever since I’ve been old enough to remember stuff, it’s just been me and my sisters,” she said, jaw working in between breaths like she was chewing something impossibly tough and leathery, “I sort of remember Mom, but she wasn’t around that long. And Dad… less said about Grogar, the better…” Midnight said nothing. A thousand questions burned at the edge of her mind, but she held the flames at bay. She starved them of oxygen. She just listened. Aria stood up again, eyes still distant. “We survived because we had this magic,” she said, “When we sang, we could make ponies fight, and it fed us. Made us stronger. Even after we got sent here a thousand years ago by that stupid wizard…” Midnight decided that mentioning said wizard was still alive would probably be best left for another time. “… we could still survive off nothing more than our magic, as long as we kept making people fight and bicker. It honestly wasn’t all that much different than now, living paycheck to paycheck,” Aria sighed, and rolled her eyes, “But I don’t have to put people down now just to eat. “We were toxic, Midnight.” She finally met Midnight’s eye again. “I haven’t been nice to anyone in centuries. I… I don’t think I remember how. And now that the magic isn’t clouding my brain…” “You can finally see straight,” Midnight finished for her, “And realize what you did before was wrong.” Aria’s eyes, guarded and angry before, now refocused sharply. There was a glint in her gaze, or perhaps a sparkle. A recognition. Midnight sighed, her breath finally releasing the knot that had formed in her chest. “I get it,” Midnight said, nodding along, “We’re both not used to being… human. But even if we’re both trying our best, most of our lives have been…” “Evil?” Aria finished, a little smile creeping back onto her face. “Yeah…” Midnight said, hesitantly, “Evil.” The two stood in the silence of the mall. Each watched the other, neither knowing what to say next. Finally, Aria sighed. “I don’t think I even talk with Adagio about this stuff,” she said, leaning on the desk again, “She’s been super-focused on our ‘comeback’ since the Battle of the Bands. Maybe she’ll want to soon, but I doubt it.” Suddenly, the original reason for Midnight’s visit popped back into her mind, from where it had been banished by her and Aria’s mini-meltdown. She coughed once, to clear her throat, and asked, “Uh, what about Sonata?” “What about her?” Aria frowned so hard that her eyebrows nearly knit together. “You don’t talk to her about stuff?” Midnight asked, her eyes focusing on the box of gum still sitting on the desk by the register. Aria guffawed. “Talk with Sonata?” she snorted, “Might as well bash my head against a brick wall, for all that’d do me! And I’d lose fewer brain cells.” Midnight frowned, and crossed her arms defensively. “Sisters can be supportive, you know?” “Not mine,” Aria said, shaking her head at the return of probably hundreds of memories of their collective antics. Midnight pushed aside all that, however. She could pick the brain of an ancient traveler another time. Right now, she was finally on the subject she came about. “How… is Sonata, actually?” Aria shrugged, and gave a non-committed sound. Though, a moment later, she shot Midnight another curious frown. Right, Midnight sighed, just go for it. Don’t blink. She might not totally dump you after this… “I, uh,” Midnight stuttered, briefly, “The Apple cousins – you know Cookie, Cinnamon, and Oakley? – couldn’t catch up to her last night, and they told me at lunch that…” “Catch up?” Aria questioned, “Sonata got home fine, if that’s what you’re asking. She hung out with you guys, right?” Her frown evaporated, eyebrows jumping up her surprised face almost to her hairline. “She was awfully quiet when she got to the van last night,” Aria chuckled, “So… whatever you’re gonna say, I approve of whatever you did. More of that, please.” Midnight swallowed, though only a desert remained in her mouth. “Ah… we might have accidentally showed her… Equestria.” She couldn’t be totally sure, not without the sort of photographic evidence that lacking a phone had denied her, but Midnight could have sworn she saw something dark and shadowy move across Aria’s face. It was only for a moment, and then it passed. Aria breathed slowly, through her nose. Her eyes flicked away from Midnight, and settled on her hands. “Oh,” she said, quietly. Aria remained silent after. She was back inside her own head. “Aria?” Midnight ventured. Aria looked up, almost surprised to still have Midnight there with her. “Oh,” she said, a little louder, “Yeah. I’ll talk to her. I’m sure she’s fine. I mean, it’s not like you meant to freak her out. “Right?” the former siren asked, her voice growing harder and colder, “It was an accident?” “Totally!” Midnight threw her hands out in a placating fashion, “We were just doing a science thing and, like, she was there eating tacos with Pinkie, and then we, ah…” Aria shook her head, and reached out to grab Midnight’s flailing hands again. “Dude, stop,” she sighed, though with a bit of a smirk returning, “I’m sure she’s fine. Sonata’s also over a thousand years old. She’s a big girl. Just with a tiny brain. It’s not your fault she had a bad moment.” As Midnight calmed herself, Aria let go of her hands and looked to the small digital clock on the wall. The one that was working, as opposed to the rest of them up on the rack. “Hey, can we avoid Big Talks for now?” she asked, suddenly, “As… ‘nice’ as this was, we should probably have one or more dates before that sort of thing.” She snorted a laugh, and ran her eye up and down Midnight’s form. “Assuming there will be two. Why are you dressed like that?” Midnight blushed, and looked down at her magician’s outfit. “What’s wrong with it?” she asked, defensively, “I told you I’m Trixie’s assistant in her magic show, didn’t I?” “Might’ve,” Aria agreed, still smirking, “Still, why am I attracted to dorks?” With a huff, Midnight returned to her backpack, and worked the zipper once more. “I didn’t have time to change, for your information…” Satisfied with a quick rummage in the bag, she stepped back, away from the store desk. Midnight checked around her in a tight circle, and made sure there was space enough for what was about to happen. “Uh…?” was all Aria managed to get out, before a ripple of electric blue light rushed out of the backpack, still sitting on the desk. It nearly blinded her as it went, but Aria could make out the wave of magical energy as it jumped to Midnight’s side. The area around Midnight briefly caught aflame, all blue as her magic aura, and she vanished from view. But, in no time at all, the flames fell away, and the light returned to the mall’s typical, unflattering fluorescent white. Midnight stood tall, in all her glory. She quickly patted down her pant legs, and checked her shirt and jacket for dust, wrinkles, and loose hair. Finding everything in place, she gave her long hair a playful flip to pull it free of her coat collar. “Well,” she said with clear self-satisfaction and a gloating grin, “At least the underwear isn’t inside out this time.” Aria’s jaw had nearly hit the desk, and her eyes almost followed suit, if Midnight could judge just where Aria was looking. After a moment, Aria shook her head, and tried for a frown again, but to no effect. She was far too amused by what she’d seen. “You had plenty of time to change,” she accused, even though her eyes sparkled in wonder, “You just wanted to show off, didn’t you?” “A little,” Midnight laughed, stretching as she made absolutely sure her shirt was right-side out. A quick glance confirmed, to her satisfaction, that the magician outfit had also landed safely in her open backpack. Aria watched her with open admiration. “Actually,” she said, grinning, “Any chance you could whip something like that up for my Dazzling outfit? I practically have to peel myself out of those stupid leather pants every night. “Eugh,” she groaned, and covered her eyes with a facepalm, “Why did I let Sonata talk us into leather?” When Midnight didn’t respond, Aria dropped her hand, and looked up. She quickly bit down on her tongue, just quick enough to stifle a giggle from escaping her mouth. Midnight stood in the middle of the store, hands slack at her side, and mouth hanging open. Her eyes had shrunk down to pinpricks, a bit of drool threatened to fall from her chin, and her face was now so incredibly, blazing-hot red that Aria was sure she’d get a suntan if she stood too close herself. “You alright, Midnight?” Aria asked, smirking all the while. “Leather…” “Yeah, I thought as… uh oh.” Aria quickly pressed down her uniform, and double-checked her workspace to make sure everything was ready. “I’ll see you later, alright? Looks like we got customers coming in, and I’d like to eventually make rent. For once…” Midnight nodded, wordlessly. Almost wordlessly. “… pants.” Aria shook her head, and suppressed another chuckle as she watched Midnight try to grab her backpack. She moved like a zombie, slapping at the bag with her arm without even looking at it. It was hilarious, honestly. Unlike the way the next customer was walking up towards them. She looked to Midnight again, and tried to get her attention. “Midnight,” she whispered, “I think this guy’s gonna walk right…” Midnight’s brain was still in something of a haze. In between attempts to fully reboot, and momentarily push aside the image of Aria in… leather… pants… What was I thinking again? This was how she missed the way the man walking into the Ohm Depot took up a spot far, far too close, and set one strong, calloused hand on her hip. “You made great timing, beating me here…” he said, as he half-spun the dazed Midnight about, and planted a kiss square on her lips. The kiss was long, but entirely chaste. A thing of such loving beauty that, had there been one present, bards would have sung about the kiss for generations. It was one of the few perfect kisses, in all of recorded human history. Aria stood behind her desk, wild eyes watching the romantic-ambush with both utter bafflement in her gaze, and another blush on her cheeks. The man – boy, really – pulled away, and gave Midnight an almost… haunting look. Half-lidded eyes, and a smile practically made of roguish charm. He was actually cute. Really cute. That didn’t stop Midnight from reaching her arm back with brutal, violent precision, and cold-cocking him directly in his perfect bronzed jawline. But she could still appreciate it, even as she was about to ruin the lad’s whole career. Aria flinched at the blow, and nearly dove beneath her desk. Just the sound of the punch rattled the shelves around the store, and the boy was still in freefall! He landed like a sack of potatoes, almost ejected straight out of the store itself, and lay senseless across the linoleum floor. Midnight shook her hand vigorously, and tried to ignore her potentially broken knuckle. “Son of a…!” she snarled, biting back just the last word before rounding on the doomed fool who just tried something so… so heinous, “Aria?” “Y-yeah?” Aria asked, peeking over her desk as Midnight’s eyes caught aflame again. Midnight said, with a perfectly level voice, “I am going to deal with this now. Please don’t call the cops.” Aria just watched as Midnight turned about, and stalked towards her prey. “You…” she growled as she advanced, teeth clicking and hands crackling with wildfire, “How dare you? Did you think you could just… just do that? To me!?” The boy – no, the idiot­ – groaned on the floor. He tried lifting his head, and ran a hand through his wavy green hair. His eyes rolled about his head, and didn’t seem able to focus on the approaching threat. “I’m going to flay you,” she said as she stood over him, “I don’t quite know what that entails, but I’m sure going to have fun figuring it out as I go…” She held up one fist, now glowing with magical fury. The idiot’s lips moved, and a tiny, wounded voice garbled out something. Midnight paused. “What?” she asked, flames reaching higher and higher around her. “What was that?” He spoke again, more clearly. “Twi…light?” he croaked, “Did I forg…et your b…irthday, ‘r sumthin’…?” The fires went out like a candle in a winter blizzard. Midnight’s eyes widened considerably as she took in his words. She whispered to herself, in horror, “Oh… no…” “MIDNIGHT!” Midnight rocked her head up from the confused, battered boy, and saw her sister sprinting across the mall, a huge stack of notebooks and paperwork hovering in her own purple aura. Twilight came to a screeching halt just before she could trip over Midnight’s victim. “Timber!” she called out, the healing spell she’d learned before already lighting up Twilight’s hands as she knelt down to medicate. “Timber!?” Midnight coughed, her own hands slapping over her mouth. “Oh… oh no… oooooh, gosh… I didn’t know…!” Midnight, despite her sudden panic, did a good job of ignoring Aria's laughter back behind her desk. It seemed the former siren had just connected the dots, and didn't much mind holding off her reformation until another time. Twilight held her boyfriend’s head on her lap, allowing the spell to do its work to poor Timber Spruce’s thwacked noggin. “What did you do!?” Twilight snarled. “He… he kissed me!” Midnight cried out, waving her hands dramatically, “What would you have done if a strange boy ran up and kissed you!” “Restrain him with magic and call Shining, of course!” shouted Twilight. Timber groaned again. “Uh… Twilight? Are you arguing with yourself?” Midnight blinked rapidly, several times. Then, she leaned in just a bit more, and asked, “Twi? Did… you ever get around to telling Timber about… us?” Twilight opened her mouth to say something. And then she shut her mouth with a click. “Twilight…” “I was getting around to it, okay!” Timber snapped open his eyes. He looked directly up at the bespectacled version of his girlfriend. “Twilight?” “Yes.” He looked down at the other one. “… Twilight?” “Midnight,” Midnight corrected, “This… um. This might take an explanation.” Timber frowned, and turned his head to the side. “Twilight?” he asked the third purple girl in the room. Aria laughed, and said, “I’d give him that one. Poor kid’s concussed. You should at least buy him dinner for that beating, Midnight.” Her eyes twinkled once more. And a smirk formed again. “Hey, you need coupons?” After several minutes of profuse, near-groveling apologies on Midnight’s part, she, her sister, and Timber Spruce headed to the food court to disentangle the incredibly messy web of relationships, magical experimentation, and memory-glitches the three were presently involved in. For her part, Midnight found Timber to be… well, not her type. Not really Twilight’s type, either, but then she had to admit she and her sister were truly different people. She’d never suspected Twilight would go for an outdoorsy woodsman jock, for instance. Still, he was a nice boy. Polite, but a little goofy. Earnest, but worldly enough not to be easily taken in. Honestly, compared to Aria… Best not think about that, Midnight had thought at the time. Especially not about bringing either one home to Mom and Dad… Timber listened to Midnight and Twilight’s story in silence. Or, the relative silence of someone chewing a plate of vegan nachos while his internal world was nothing but silent screams of existential terror. Midnight could tell these things. But he seemed to take it all well. More or less. He at least waited till they were done before asking questions. And Twilight, throughout the whole talk, was on the edge of a complete nervous breakdown. Her explanations, though tempered by Midnight whenever Twilight went off course on a tangent or scientific-geek-out, were just a bit hyperenergetic and… Truth be told, Twilight was displaying Pinkie Pie levels of panic. She was explaining a highly complicated and potentially spiritually-distressing concept to her boyfriend, and – Midnight guessed – second-guessing every single aspect of her life while worrying he wouldn’t want to remain in a relationship with a half-souled golem. Not the words Twilight would use, but accurate. Still. After an hour or so, Twilight had clearly exhausted herself, and Timber was allowed to respond. And happily, he took it well. “That’s…” He paused for several long seconds, sucking down multiple mouthfuls of water, and giving himself more time to process what he’d just heard. He coughed, and started again. “That’s big.” “Yeah,” Twilight sighed, “Yeah, I… I guess it is…” She stopped when a hand gripped her own. Twilight looked up into Timber’s eyes, and smiled. He said, “If you want to talk about it, I’m here. And if not… I’m still here.” Timber laughed… then flinched as his still-mending jaw spiked in pain. “Hnng… I’m not gonna pretend I understood all of that,” he continued, rubbing his chin gingerly, “But if I can stand up to Mr. Rich, I think I can stick through this with you. Uh, both of you.” He smiled at Midnight as he said this, though chagrined and somewhat embarrassed. Twilight, true to form, melted over that sentiment. Midnight… wouldn’t say she disliked it. But, for one reason or another, she was finding herself to be the more cynical Sparkle sister these days. Well. Time would tell. “I mean, at least he didn’t ask if he was dating twins…” “Midnight…” Twilight warned, and angrily typed out the end of a line. Midnight, from her own workstation in the lab, gave another cursory glance to the notebook she’d been handed once she and Twilight had gotten home. “Sorry, sorry!” she laughed, “But, come on! You’re dating a jock! The Great Enemy!” Twilight swiveled around, and shot Midnight an unamused, raised eyebrow. “Midnight? You’re literally dating a friendship-destroying monster empowered by Equestrian magic.” “But she’s so cute!” “Stop dating bad guys!” “Never!” After a moment’s hesitation, both sisters descended into tittering giggles. Midnight threw her hands up as she did, almost knocking over the cans of energy-drinks on her desktop, while Twilight held her mouth shut with both hands. She didn’t want to wake Spike up, after all. The little puppy had slipped off to sleep hours ago. About when they should have as well, Midnight noted. “The Princess has great hoofwriting,” she commented, looking back at one of the many, many notebooks Sunset had tossed through the Mirror. Twilight, not looking at the clock and its wretched displayed time, concurred. “She’s basically just us, but even further ahead in terms of… uh, most things, actually.” The notebooks and papers were elaborate, Bitzantine in their intricacy. They were wondrous tomes of magical and scientific knowledge. The sort of glorious thing most academics would murder each other over, if they even caught the scent of such a treasure trove. And somewhere in Princess Twilight’s school notes, there might lay an answer to building an engine or battery for their Big Project. “Very impressive,” Midnight sighed, and punched in a few more lines of programming, as Twilight was also doing on her own computer. “I’m thinking we’ll need to get some more crystals. According to…” She checked the notebook’s serial number and designation. “… TN-Evoc-H.P122.pp3, magic is partially based in harmonics, so materials that are sensitive to vibration are ideal for conducting and directing thaumatic energy.” She reached out for another can of Pinkie’s The Good Stuff, and found to her dismay that there were no more doses of her and Twilight’s most beloved pick-me-up drink. “You think if we work through the night,” she asked idly, “that we’ll be too tired for nightmares?” Twilight’s typing skipped. Midnight didn’t need to look up to know her sister was ramrod straight in her seat. Or that all of her caffeine drinks were also empty. “… Isn’t it worth a shot?” Twilight asked, meekly. “Unless Luna’s free to help…” “Yeah, yeah,” Midnight sighed, and watched the AM’s tick by, “Useless Moonbutt.” Useless. Midnight shook herself, if only to cast off the sound of that voice. The Shadow, she called it. Being this tired was making that all the harder. Harder and harder. “Tomorrow’s Friday,” she said, more to herself than Twilight, “At least… that’s some good news.” “Good news?” Twilight groaned. “How can that be good news!? That means school will be out!” Midnight slowly let her head sink to her desk, a brief, grim smile on her face. “Never change, Twi. Never change…” “And you are sure it will be over and done with?” “Of course, Sis. My Firm never fails. It’s in the bylaws. By this time next week, your daughter will be completely free and clear of all charges, and her records sealed.” “Wonderful! You do work miracles, Chryssy. Let those two boys of yours know their aunt appreciates their hard work.” “… Abbie, Thorax and Pharynx are my interns. Not just my children. They’d do the work because I tell them to.” “Well… fair enough, I suppose. Thank you, nonetheless. I take it there’s paperwork to sign?” “Isn’t there always? Especially with the adoption. Bring the girl tomorrow. Let’s do a late lunch. Maybe I can cajole you into telling me what really happened at those games…” “Thank you, Chryssy. Text the details.” With an unsatisfying tap that would never compete with the wondrous sound of slamming a house phone, Abacus Cinch sighed with relief. She pinched the bridge of her nose, and stood still in the relative darkness of her living room, a dull fire the only source of illumination. She needed the quiet, sometimes. In order to think. To reflect. To plan. Sometimes, it felt like darkness was her only friend. There was a creak, off towards the stairwell. A loose board. She’d loosened it herself, for just such a purpose. “Mom?” a little voice cut through the gloom, “Was that… your sister?” Cinch opened her eyes, and glanced over to her recently-adopted daughter. The one bright spot in her life, at least these days. When she wasn’t getting involved with the Law, at any rate. “It was,” she said, her eyes watching the little girl’s for understanding, or perhaps an ounce of reality. Truthfulness. The calculating manipulator, her now former middle school principal said of the darling dear. Still, Cinch thought. It suits my purposes. Cinch took a breath, and said, “Cozy Glow? We’re meeting the lawyers tomorrow…”