//------------------------------//
// Settling In 
// Story: A Completely Normal School Board Meeting 
// by Mouse-Deer 
//------------------------------//

Fancy Pants stumbled his way into the first restroom he could find and strolled up to the sink, splashing a bit of cold water on his face. He let out a sigh and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to prevent the growing migraine that had appeared in his head an hour ago from getting any worse. He leaned forward and rested his weight on the basin in an attempt to trick his tired brain into believing it had gotten some rest.

It had been a long week for the Canterlot High School Board of Education.

Board meetings were supposed to be once every month—every second Wednesday, specifically—but this was the fifth day of damage control, public outrage, and construction noises that may as well have been drilling directly into his head. Ever since last Friday, the patience of the Board was being tested to its breaking point.

Fancy Pants held a special place in his heart for Canterlot High, having attended himself since childhood, and thought that running for the Board would be enough to show his respect and participate in the community. He was aware the job would not always be easy, but some part of him believed any struggle would be worth it to help better the school. He had even moved up to Vice President, and was quite proud of that fact.

Then he got a call last Friday night—the night of the Fall Formal. 

He took an early vacation for the week in order to handle the fallout of the chaotic event, as did the rest of the Board members from their side jobs. And what a vacation it had been; all the days he had been saving up for the tropics might as well have exploded right alongside Canterlot High’s front entrance.

He smoothed back his hair and straightened out his bowtie. There would be no point in trying to groom himself any more than he already had; the bags under his eyes were not going to disappear anytime soon, and there was only one item left on the agenda to get through anyway.

The bathroom door swung open behind him and a similarly disheveled man staggered in. Blueblood approached the sink next to Fancy Pants and wet his hands, running them through a slick of his long comb over.

"Rubbish," he muttered aloud to himself, "What a completely rubbish hearing." He scowled and turned to Fancy Pants, seemingly recognizing the man's existence in the room for the first time. "You look rough.”

"I could say the same about you,” responded Fancy, unfazed by Blueblood’s insult.

Blueblood grabbed the faucet handle and twisted it shut. "This girl blasts a hole in the front of the school and, when we give her the chance to speak, won’t even tell us how she did it. Much less why. No, instead we had to hear her prattle on about magic and forgiveness and other deflective, sappy garbage. Why, if I was allowed to speak in there, I would have given her quite the piece of my mind."

Fancy Pants placed his fingers over his eyelids and rubbed them gently. “Emotional pleas are always the last attempt to paint oneself in a positive light. It might have worked if she wasn't speaking nonsense the whole time.”

"I'd say nonsense is an understatement!" Blueblood exclaimed. "I've attended my fair share of expulsion trials before. Nobody has ever claimed they were literally possessed by a demon. Or whatever she was trying to say with that." He brushed off his coat and reached up to fiddle with his tie, but his shaky hands made the task troublesome to complete.

“The witnesses Celestia brought in backed up her case,” said Fancy Pants, becoming slightly wary at the other man's demeanor.

Blueblood gave up on fixing his tie and turned to face Fancy directly. “What, those two dull boys, Scissors and Slugs? They’re clearly traumatized. If you ask me, she's probably beat them down enough times that they can't speak for themselves—whatever she says goes. Celestia should have known better to bring them in; the whole school was there, so there must have been someone willing to tell the truth. Her story's impossible, no matter how many students can back it up. Pigs don't fly, the cow has not jumped over the moon, and this girl was not defeated by magical pony powers," he spat. 

“I agree wholeheartedly, Blueblood," said Fancy Pants gently, "but Celestia didn’t have a choice in the matter regarding this case. The district administrator deferred the whole case to her. He didn't want to waste his time dealing with a tale of magic and laser beams."

Blueblood snorted and splashed some water on his face. "Can you blame him for thinking we're insane? I just got off a call with the municipal prosecutor for the city. Every single witness statement the police collected corroborated the same story—the most ridiculous story possible! She so nicely explained to me that 'the justice system stopped persecuting witches four hundred years ago.'"

"So Sunset won't face any legal repercussions?" Fancy Pants asked, slightly astounded. "I mean, how it happened aside, she still blew a hole in the building."

"She said we could try and press charges, but if no witness could offer a logical case, then we would be laughed out of court. We would have to get everyone to tell the truth, but obviously some massive coverup has gone on." He straightened himself out and headed toward the door. "You know, maybe there's something to that. Are we sure Sunset was the only one in on this event? Could it have been a student-planned firework explosion gone wrong, or something?"

"I don't believe so," said Fancy, following behind Blueblood. "Celestia said she was there, remember? In fact, she has not denied any witness statements either." 

"Ah, forget it," Blueblood groaned. "Let's just expel her and get it over with."

The two men stepped out of the bathroom into the hallway. Immediately they were hit with a freezing wind that whipped and tore its way through the school corridors. "Oh dear, it is dreadful out." Fancy Pants wrapped his arms around himself, gently rubbing up and down to stave off the chill.

"She couldn't have blown up the front entrance during a warm season, couldn't she have?" Blueblood remarked.

"What did you say? I can't hear you over the construction," Fancy Pants yelled.

"Ah, just forget it!" Blueblood, a man somewhat notorious for his short temper, was perhaps the most displeased about Canterlot High's situation. Were one to have seen the President of the Board a mere few days prior to the incident, they would have met a contented, albeit arrogant, fellow. This was no longer the case. To the casual observer, Blueblood looked almost as torn up as the entrance to Canterlot High School.

"Let's get in, talk for five minutes, vote, and go home," he grumbled. "Hey, maybe if we vote immediately we can even skip the discussion."

Fancy Pants nodded in agreement. "It's been a long enough week. Hopefully the others feel the same."

"I have to wonder what possessed Celestia to choose six different people for this trial," said Blueblood. "The largest I've seen before was three. Now she's got twice that, and two of them are not even on the Board? This is an open-and-shut case."

"It is a bit odd," said Fancy. "From what she told me, it was originally going to be just you, me, and Rich, but Mrs. Smith decided she wanted to stay for the trial when all the other Board members went home."

Blueblood nodded. "So that's four members of the Board. And what about that cop? Gleaming something-or-other?" 

"Oh, Mister Shining Armor!" A twinkle appeared in Fancy Pants eye at the mention of the man. "It is always a joy to see youths with such a bright future. He is the youngest police officer in the force. Celestia thought he would add a unique perspective to this discussion, being both connected to the law and not that far past being a student himself." They approached the main office and entered inside. “Or, that’s what she told me.”

"I think we've got enough perspective already," grunted Blueblood. "What about that last man? The one in that colorful coat?"

Fancy furrowed his brow. "Oh, I thought you knew him."

As they neared the conference room their voices lowered to a whisper. "I wouldn't even associate with someone that looked like that. Don't you know everyone in town?" asked Blueblood. "I was so startled by his attire that I just assumed he was supposed to be here."

"I'm sure we can formally meet him right now," said Fancy Pants nervously as they reached the conference room door. "After you?"

"Of course," said Blueblood, opening the door and stepping inside.

Because the expulsion trial was not a public session, and the normal meeting spot for the Board would be unbearably loud next to construction, Celestia had offered them an old meeting room across from her office. The cramped space was lit only by the light of the afternoon sun, which bounced off of the room's silver filing cabinets and yellowed walls directly into Fancy Pants eyes no matter his position. In the center of the room stood a dark wooden table just one size too big, accompanied by several wooden chairs that appeared as comfortable to sit on as the floor. Near the head of the table, Filthy Rich, Granny Smith, and Shining Armor all stood engaged in avid conversation. A quick glance to the foot of the table showed the man in the patchwork coat sitting in one of the creaky chairs, a window slightly cracked open behind him. He spun an old wooden pipe in his left hand and stroked his goatee with the right, watching the room with a blank expression on his face.

Fancy Pants looked the strange man over. As another gust of wind blew in from the window, he thought the man's dreamcoat might not be the worst garment to wear at the moment. The man in the chair had one pupil significantly larger than the other, and if the light was not tricking Fancy's eyes, they were tinted red. He pulled his gaze away and focused back on the group at the front of the table, choosing to ignore the odd, unsettling feeling in his stomach.

Filthy Rich was the first to notice their presence. "Gentlemen!" he exclaimed, a smile forming on his face. "Why, it's been about three minutes since we last saw one another."

"That joke hasn't gotten old since Monday, Filthy," Blueblood snorted sarcastically.

"I'm sure it hasn't, and you know I go by Rich,  please," Filthy said, taking a step back to allow the two men into the circle.

Fancy frowned slightly at Blueblood's insistence on calling Filthy Rich by his first name. No matter how many times he had pestered Blueblood to show respect to Rich, Blueblood would seemingly forget the next time they met. Losing Filthy Rich because of Blueblood's ego would be detrimental to the Board, so Fancy had to walk a tightrope to appease both of them. 

Rich, ever the shrewd businessman, assumed all roles as Treasurer of the Board without hesitation when his daughter began enrolling in the Canterlot School System. Between spending his time expanding business and working with the Board, Fancy wondered if Rich had any time for family or a social life. Of course, the businessman hid any of his social issues behind the curtain of a generic friendly demeanor, which in itself was a guise for his colder, analytical outlook that only surfaced occasionally. Fancy believed that underneath all of Rich's layers, there had to be some small fire of empathy inside of him; after all, he had joined the Board for his daughter's sake.

"It appears we have more folks here than initially intended," remarked Fancy Pants, hoping to turn the conversation away from Filthy’s name. He glanced at Granny Smith and Shining Armor.

"I'm mighty sorry for imposing," said Granny Smith as she turned to Blueblood and Fancy Pants, "but my grandkids kept badgering me about seeing what this was all about. If I'm being honest, I wanted to see it for myself." Fancy Pants swore Granny Smith had not aged a day since he was a child—she had always been the grandmother as old as her orchard, and if one was willing to get past her eccentricities, she was as wise as the hills that she grew her trees on. Her gait had noticeably slowed down ever since her hip surgery a few years prior, but her ability to endure the hardships of her twilight years still amazed him. Granny participated in about every aspect of the school's life: sometimes board member, sometimes lunch lady, sometimes substitute teacher, she welcomed anyone and treated them as if they were family. Then again, with a family as large as the Apples, perhaps everyone was connected to her somehow.

Blueblood, his bad mood slightly dispelled, waved his hand away. "No worries, Mrs. Smith. Although, I bet you've got more questions than answers after the display we just witnessed."

Granny let out a chuckle, the wrinkles around her eyes increasing when she smiled. "Ain't that the truth. Why, the next time I burn an apple pie I'll just blame it on the evil apple demons, or something.”

Fancy Pants joined her in laughter. "It certainly has been something. Now, why don't we introduce Blueblood to our new guest here?" he said, turning to Shining Armor.

Shining Armor flashed a grin as he turned to Blueblood, extending out his hand. "It's good to meet you." In sharp contrast to the aging grandmother next to him, Shining Armor held a youthful vigor that could only be carried by a young person in their prime. Although he was out of uniform in a simple dress suit, his strong stature and friendly demeanor immediately relayed why he was considered a growing paragon of a community member. Most simply, it was impossible not to like him. 

Blueblood reached out and shook his hand. "Charmed," he said. "How'd somebody like you manage to find your way into the force? You look barely out of high school."

"I'm a Crystal Prep graduate," Shining said. "I graduated four years ago. I already had a good portion of my following education completed during my senior year, so I got a head start."

"The kid's a genius," Filthy Rich butted in, "Didn't you say you graduated at sixteen?"

"Yeah," Shining nodded, bashfully rubbing the back of his head, "I wouldn't say I'm a genius, though. You haven't met my sister. I just worked hard and was given the opportunity to get the most out of school. I got lucky, too.”

"How interesting," Blueblood remarked, "It's always great to see a student from any school following through with a bright future. It's certainly a contrast to someone else we saw today." He paused. "I mean no offense by this, but you're still quite new to the force. I would think Principal Celestia would want to bring in someone with a little more experience, or someone more focused on juvenile issues."

Shining shrugged, a small grin appearing on his face. "Don't say it too loud, but I think this is a test—or maybe a punishment. Somehow she figured out I'm trying to date her niece."

"Oh, how very interesting!" exclaimed Blueblood, a small smirk flashing across his face. "Auntie does enjoy her secret tests so much."

Shining Armor's grin froze a little. "Auntie?"

"Indeed." Blueblood nodded. "I'm her nephew. You didn't know? Well, I'm sure she meant nothing by not telling you this."

Shining, caught like a deer in the headlights, sputtered out a quick response. "Well, um, thank you for letting me know, Mister Blueblood." The sudden change in Shining's demeanor caused the surrounding members of the group to launch into a fit of laughter, including Blueblood. As the group's chuckles died down, Shining brushed it off and took on a more serious look. "There's actually another reason I'm the only officer here. Every time an officer has tried to come near the school, they've somehow been blocked from getting inside. The folks at the station are actually starting to believe that this is cursed ground."

"Really?" said Fancy Pants. "I hadn't heard anything about that."

"We're trying to keep it down low, because, well, it makes us seem incompetent," he explained. "We can't figure out whether it's all coincidences or not, but two of our squad cars have broken down, and one guy we sent down here on foot just kept walking right back to the police station, with no memory of ever leaving in the first place. It's made collecting witness statements quite tricky, and everyone is getting tired of dealing with this case."

"How'd you make it over here, then?" asked Filthy Rich. "Have you got some magic power, or something?" The group indulged in a round of chuckles after his comment.

"I just walked in.” He shrugged. "Maybe because I didn't come in uniform? I think it really was just a bunch of coincidences. After all, why would I of all people be allowed in? There's no logic or reason behind it. At least, none I can see."

As Shining Armor and the others continued to question the supposed curse, Fancy Pants' eyes drifted once again toward the strange man at the back of the room. Perfectly content to not join in with the conversation up front, he continued to fiddle with his small pipe. Abruptly, the man looked up at Fancy Pants, meeting his gaze for the first time. His lips twitched upward slightly, but he made no motions of recognition beyond that. Despite the sinking feeling in his gut when looking at him, Fancy decided it was now or never to start a conversation. He broke off from the group up front and approached the man.

"Excuse me, sir," he said meekly, "That's a splendidly crafted pipe you have there. You are aware that smoking isn't allowed on the premises, though?"

The man stared at him, his gaze unfaltering. Fancy Pants gulped.

"Sir?"

He slowly raised his pipe to his mouth, a deviant twinkle appearing in his eye. Fancy Pants furrowed his brow in a mix of confusion and tension.

"I'm sorry—are you aware of what I am saying?"

The man continued to intentionally ignore Fancy and placed the pipe up to this lips, gently cupping it with his hand. Fancy Pants instinctively took a step backward, a sudden jolt of inexplicable fear rushing through his body. However, Instead of drawing in a breath from the pipe like Fancy expected, the man puffed out his cheeks like a trumpeter and blew with comical intensity.

Three bubbles appeared out of the top and floated up to the ceiling. Pop, pop, pop.

"W-what?" gawked Fancy Pants. "You . . . "

The man snickered silently to himself, his lips expanding outward into a broad grin.

Before Fancy Pants could form a coherent response, the door behind them opened, and Principal Celestia stepped in. "Good evening, everyone," she announced. "Thank you all for being here. I know it has been a long day, so now that we are all here, there is no need to waste any more time."

Fancy Pants glanced back at the other members in the room and saw none of them had noticed his exchange with the mysterious man. Deciding to let it go for now, he headed toward his seat at the table.

Blueblood sat at the head of the table, with Fancy Pants to his right and Filthy Rich to his left. To the left of Filthy Rich sat Shining Armor, and across from Shining sat Granny Smith. The strange man had already taken his seat at the foot of the table.

Celestia smiled. "Once again, thank you all for being here. A special thank you to Shining Armor, a police officer and growing community member here in town. I am very thankful for his participation and believe he will add a unique viewpoint to add to your discussion."

"Thanks, glad to be here," Shining said.

"And also a thank you to Mister Cord for attending the trial and this meeting as well. Mister Cord is a behavioral psychologist and I thought that this situation warranted his expertise."

Mister Cord responded with only another toothy grin.

"Alright," said Celestia, "Let's get started. It has come to our attention that Sunset Shimmer has spent the past few years bullying, blackmailing, and gaslighting the student body for, among many things, her own personal gain. This bullying reached its peak at the Fall Formal dance where, upon losing the bid for Fall Formal Princess, she destroyed a significant portion of the school and threatened the lives of several students. According to School Board Policy 5410, the Board may expel a student if it is in the best interest of the school, and, if the student's conduct on school grounds results in the damage of property, health, or safety of others.  

"If such a case warrants expulsion, the student is entitled to a hearing. We gave Sunset and her parents a notice Friday night after the Formal, so she received adequate time to prepare. You all just attended Sunset's hearing in which she argued her case. Sunset's parents were notified of the hearing, however they did not respond to our contact and, as you saw, did not show up for the hearing. Sunset claims they are out of town on a month-long business trip. Take that information as you will.

"Due to the nature of this case, I ask that you all come to unanimous agreement on what Sunset's punishment should be. The maximum punishment is expulsion until the age of 21—essentially, permanent expulsion. The minimum punishment is the refusal to expel, and to let her continue her enrollment at Canterlot High. Miss Shimmer's actions caused damage to school property, and endangered the lives of many students. This is a hearing with the sole intention of expulsion, so alternative punishments are not allowed. You can, however, argue the amount of time she may be expelled, and if she is allowed to continue enrollment, other forms of punishment can be decided on a later date. Remember that the Board will have to explain their actions to both students and teachers in the next public meeting, so make sure you all agree wholeheartedly."

She smiled, glancing at each member at the table. "I know you will all come to the right decision. I will be outside in my office if you need me or any files that pertain to Miss Shimmer and this case." She turned around and strolled out the door, shutting it gently behind her.

The members were seated in their chairs in silence. Fancy Pants glanced around, careful not to make eye contact with anyone for too long—especially Mister Cord. After a pregnant pause, Blueblood sighed.

"As the President of the Board, I believe it is my duty to begin the deliberations," he said. "Before we begin, we should hold a preliminary vote to see where we all stand on this issue. Does anyone object?"

"No, we should vote," said Fancy Pants.

"Sounds good," said Filthy Rich.

"Fine by me," said Shining Armor.

"No better way to do it, I reckon," said Granny Smith.

Mister Cord just nodded.

"Okay," said Blueblood. "Ultimately, destruction of property on such a scale has no place in this school, ever. Combining that with the significant amount of harm Sunset has been causing to our students over the past several years, as well as the abysmal attempt at defending herself we all just witnessed, I cannot in good conscience allow her to continue enrollment at this school. All in favor of permanent expulsion, please raise your hand."

To start off, Blueblood himself raised his hand.

Fancy Pants raised his hand.

Filthy Rich raised his hand.

Shining Armor raised his hand.

Granny Smith raised her hand.

But Mister Cord simply took his bubble pipe and once more brought it to his lips, blowing out a few bubbles. The others watched in confusion as the mysterious, and suddenly rebellious, character at the end of the room refused to raise his hand.

Despite the chilled temperature of the room, a bead of sweat rolled down Blueblood's cheek. "Lower your hands."

The group did as told. Looking closely, Fancy Pants saw Mister Cord's eyes light up, as if he was holding back his grin from earlier.

Blueblood cleared his throat. "Anyone in favor of . . . anything else?"

Snap.

The sound boomed throughout the room, causing the five members to throw their hands over their ears. Once it died down and the ringing stopped, they noticed something odd about the chair at the end of the table. Where once sat an odd man in a gaudy coat with a bubble pipe stood a hulking dragon-like creature. His antler and horn almost poked holes through the ceiling, and his tail coiled around the back of his chair. Most would have run away immediately, but all the members in the room could still see a mischievous glint in this creature's eye, and a teasing smile under his snaggletooth that led to a shocking realization: this was the same man from before, only he was a monster.

Discord raised his claw.