Spitfire sighed, and so did her stomach.
“Anon, that was some good risotto.”
“Glad you enjoyed it, Spitty,” Anon said, wiggling his eyebrows. “Am I near my promotion yet?”
Spitfire smirked as she walked beside him. “Even closer,” she whispered, nuzzling his side.
Her human sucked in a rather deep breath. “So close, yet so far…”
“If it’s any consolation to you, I’m enjoying our little date thus far.”
The words tumbled out of her mouth. She felt a little bit of heat grace her form. Her hooves tingled, her wings did too. She was just a bundle of nerves that ranged from nervous to happy. Elated in the moment.
“Good, although I’m more focused on netting that promotion. Say, do I get a bonus for being your stunt double?”
Spitfire neighed at that one. “My stubborn manager would need to give me one, and he hasn’t given me a bonus in years!”
“Are you required for one?” Anon asked with a raised brow.
Spitfire shrugged (as best as she could while walking). “Not exactly. It’s not in our contracts, but sometimes, sometimes… He does cave in.”
Anon grumbled something under his breath.
“What was that, Anon?”
He groaned. “I’ll have to give you a raving review then, huh?”
Spitfire smirked. “I would love to see that happen. He’s addicted to positive publicity, so I wouldn’t be surprised if he caved in. You would have to give me two copies of it though. One to give to him, and one to frame in my office so that way all the cadets see it.”
“We’ll see. I would have to write it first and smack it with the royal seal of approval, just to make it that much more official,” Anon said through a chuckle. He stopped suddenly and turned to face Spitfire. “Well, we’re here.”
Spitfire took in what she was looking at. Between the compact buildings was one that stood out from the group. It was taller and wider than the rest of them and it even had a small porch leading up to its front door. Above it had a dangling sign that read House of Enchanted Comics.
Spitfire tilted her head.
“You took me to a comic book store?”
Anon nodded. “Not just any comic store. It’s actually a combo. The store has two floors for comic book enjoyers, but it also has a full blown arcade in the back.”
“An arcade?”
“Hey, let me tell you. It’s a great place to go to after listening to everyone else’s issues for a day.”
She giggle-snorted. “Didn’t know your position was in customer service.”
“It technically is,” Anon began, chuckling to himself. “Celly asks me to sit in on Day Court nowadays, and I’m just sitting there, with a notebook in hand, jotting down all the gobbledygook some random pony who I most likely won’t care about says to make sure I can… assess what I should advise on, while I’m also thinking about what I want for lunch—it’s just not a great combination.”
“Apparently,” Spitfire said while mentally holding her head at the image that the whole rant conveyed. She shook her head. “Well, let’s get you to assess this place, big guy. Seems like a nice place.”
Anon took the first few steps up the stairs. “Oh, I don’t have to. I know it’s good. It’s way better inside, trust me™.”
Spitfire chuckled and walked up after him.
When she had entered, a little bell on the side had already rung and continued to ring loud. A large counter was to her left, where the bell resided and swung happily. Meanwhile the counter was large, but it formed into a L, kind of like some of the bars and clubs she’s been to in Cloudsdale and Manehattan. Above the post held what appeared to be part of the second floor, although it didn’t extend as far over as she thought. Beyond it were several racks of comics, each of them categorized by genre, if the signs telling her which ones were fantasy and which ones were non-fiction had anything to do with it. Off to the right was a quiet reading area, where a couple ponies were currently at and sitting in the several couches the store had. They even had a few desks with lamps on them, while a chandelier overhead lit up the whole room.
It was… different. Spitfire was never the one to read these types of books, as she was usually on the go and not thinking about comic books. She didn’t have much time to read, actually. She was too focused on all the paperwork tossed her way to read anything else.
She sighed. Maybe this was something she needed. Somewhat of a slow down after flying all the time.
The wooden floors creaked as Spitfire and Anon shuffled further into the store.
“Oh hey, it’s that human from last week!”
Spitfire blinked. She looked back over at the counter to see a younger stallion waving a hoof at them. He was pink, with pink and black strands in his mane. His horn was large and his light brown eyes were excitedly bouncing between the two of them.
The human waved. “Hey there, Poptart.”
“Good to see you, man. You finished that album I lent you?”
Anon facepalmed. “No, I haven’t had too much time to listen to it. Celly’s got me stuck on Day Court for the remainder of the week. I should be able to listen to it this weekend though, if I can find it. I think it’s nestled right between my couch or something.” Anon shook his head and continued, “However, right now, I need your help. I brought my date here to check out the place and—”
“Whoa! You’re dating Spitfire?!”
The stallion gawked at her. She smiled. “Nice to meet you, Poptart.”
“Nice to meet you too. Wow.” He looked her up and down before turning back to Anon. “How did you net her, dude?”
Spitfire let out a laugh. “He hasn’t netted me yet.”
“That’s a lie and she knows it. She’s already smitten with my charm.”
“Charm?” Spitfire raised a brow. “You and that word don’t mix.”
Anon rolled his eyes. “Being in denial is part of her staple now. It’s okay, babe. Playing hard to get makes this way more enjoyable.”
Spitfire mentally noted that. She’ll torture him with it later. “Whatever you say, hon!”
The gobsmacked stallion forced his jaw to close with a hoof. “Wow, you really are dating her. Nice.”
He held out his hoof. Anon fist bumped it.
Stallions.
“Thanks. She’s awesome just like me, so it was a perfect match. Anyway, do you have the latest edition of Power Ponies still available?”
“The one that has the extended fight sc—”
“Shhh-shhh! Don’t spoil it!” Anon had put his finger on the stallion's muzzle, making Poptart freeze.
“Okay, okay.” Poptart said through Anon’s finger. He swatted it away with his hoof. “Yeah, we still got that. Should be in the Superhero section right behind you.”
Anon turned and snapped his fingers. “Nice. Definitely going to get that before I leave.”
“Oh, are you two going to the arcade?” Poptart asked with a raised brow.
“Of course! Gotta get some vengeance on that crane game.”
“Pfft, you still trying to get that plushie?”
“Yeah, but I think with Spitfire being here with me, I finally will get it!”
Poptart laughed. “Good luck!”
Anon matched him with his own as he began to walk away from the counter. “Don’t need it.”
Anon and Spitfire made their way past the counter and through the assorted racks, before walking right toward the entrance of the arcade. She could tell because the sign overhead was blinking rapidly the word ARCADE in bold. Meanwhile, she could feel some of the vibrations of the several games she could only imagine were behind the door. After all, she was not used to this—arcades were something she went to once as a filly and that was it.
Spitfire sighed. Now thinking back, Spitfire didn’t really get to do much outside of flying… flying, and more flying. Oh, and school too, but that also had a lot of flying involved. There wasn’t much time to be anything else.
“Equestria to Spitfire?”
Spitfire blinked. She looked at Anon, who was waving his hand at her. She chuckled. “Sorry, I got lost in my own thoughts.”
“Well, start thinking about crane games and self-indulgence, because we’re about to experience the new and improved arcade room this place has!”
And with that, Anon opened the door and held it for her. “Ladies first.”
“Well aren’t you a gentlecolt?” she replied with a cheeky grin.
“No, I’m just buttering you up so I can get that promotion.”
Spitfire rolled her eyes. “Aaaand now you ruined the moment.” Soaking in the hoof to face combo she was giving him, she took a deep breath and walked through the door Anon opened. She looked around, taking in the scenery.
The room was filled with pink and purple lights of all sorts. Thankfully, they weren’t super bright, as if they were and were strobing like some of them were, she’d probably need to wear her aviators in here. Thankfully, they weren’t as in her face as the nightclubs were. She turned and waited for Anon to walk in, as she definitely needed him to guide her through the maze that she was witnessing.
Anon strolled up next to her, before tapping his leg. “Follow me,” he said, before bee-lining straight for the crane game nearby. It was like he didn’t even hesitate to look at the rest of the numerous arcade games flashing at them.
No, the crane game had all of his attention.
Spitfire looked at the contraption. It was the one game that has stayed the same since she played it as a filly. Yet, what was inside was different. In front of them were several crane games, each having more random objects than the last: a giant raindrop collection of different colors with small faces on each one, a Daring Do limited edition action figure collection, a Wonderbolts plush collection (which Spitfire felt a bit distant about), and even a sweet and sour candy collection, yet the one that Anon was rushing to play was one where a few small stuffed animals were in, and his eyes were dead set on one in particular. A small dog. It was white and gray, with ice blue eyes. It had a cute small red tongue poking out, and its body was athletic, strong, and most importantly, plush.
She smiled. What a goofball, going for something like that, but she liked that about him. And it made her want to root him on.
“Hey, Spitty. You want the husky?”
Husky? Is that what they were called? “Oh that wolfdog? Sure. He’s pretty cute.”
“Great, I’m going to get him for you.”
Spitfire tilted her head before smirking and nuzzling up beside him. “Show me what you got.”
Anon licked his lips and smacked one singular bit into the machine. It lit up in response, welcoming Anon like it was not about to scam him of his hard-earned bits. Using his hands, he pulled on the little joystick that they provided, and once he lined up the husky, he slammed that button down.
The crane descended, it descended, and descended, before whirring to a halt. It snatched the dog up and ascended—
“Come on!”
—and ascended—
“BRING IT ON HOME!”
—and it fell from the crane, flipping the dog on its back.
Anon threw his hands up. “Damn. Again!”
“So close, Anon. So close.”
She watched him slam another bit in.
And another.
And another.
Each bit this poor guy lodged in the crane game was another loss of the husky (and a bit of course). But knowing Anon, he was not someone who would give up easily. She watched as each time he grabbed it with the crane arm, it would simply slide out of its grasp, leaving him to once again punch the machine with another singular bit.
Spitfire frowned. They might be here forever before they’d try the other games. Heck, she even spotted one that she would definitely want to try with Anon. It had a bunch of arrows on the ground and two bars (one in the back and one in the front, from what she could tell). Ponies were lining up to play it, and it made her want to do the same.
Yet, here she was, watching Anon groan again over the crane game.
“Hey, Anon, you really think we could—”
“Hold up, Spitty, I got it this time.”
Her ears splayed back against her head as she turned to see him with the crane already on the husky. “Anon, you think it’s—”
Anon turned to her frantically, one hand pointing at the crane arm as it ascended with his desired prize, while the other was petting her mane. “Don’t worry, it’ll be this time. Trust me.”
She watched as it ascended further and further, before locking in place.
Wait. Was Anon about to win?
She too watched closely as the arm held onto the husky for dear life, moving it closer to the chute that would give them their prize. She blinked as she saw it slide down the chute.
The alarm bells rang. The lights flashed happily.
Anon bent down to grab his prize for his anguish. “Twenty bits later, and I am now a proud owner of this husky.” He turned to her and handed her the pup. “Well, I was the proud owner. Definitely worth every bit to have you keep him.”
“F-For me?” Spitfire asked, her eyes wide. “Anon, you won it and—”
“And I only did it for you. So come on, take it!” Anon said, shoving it closer to her chest.
Spitfire couldn’t help but feel her lips tug upward. “Okay, okay!” She grabbed onto the guy and inspected him. “What should I name him?”
“Name him, Mono.”
“No.”
“Anon-but-as-a-dog?”
“What type of name is that?”
“A good one,” Anon said, crossing his arms.
“Whatever you had for breakfast this morning, I don’t want it. So, no,” Spitfire declared. She chuckled at Anon’s dismayed look.
“Anon 2.0. Furry edition.”
“That’s a description and NO.” Spitfire facehooved. “Let me see if I can name him. How about… Walter?”
“Walter?!” Anon almost screamed in disbelief. “Why are we naming the dog after some white guy who absolutely cooks some of the hardest drugs possible in a trailer?”
“What? No, I wasn’t thinking of that,” Spitfire replied, tilting her head. “What were you thinking of?”
“Oh, some dude named Walter White. Which, by the way, what made you think of Walter? That’s not a pony name.”
“Oh… just a memory is all.”
“Okay…” Anon began, letting his voice drift off. He tapped his chin. “Are you sure you’re not a fan of Mono?”
“Yes, I’m not a fan. I’m not naming him after a disease.”
Anon threw his hands up. “Hey, it sounds cute. Just cute and sickening!”
Spitfire rolled her eyes before letting out a brief blow. She groaned. “I’m serious, Anon! What should we name him?”
“Gimme a sec, gimme a sec!” Anon said, once again tapping his chin. He even hummed to himself something so out of rhythm that Spitfire was afraid to ask him what he was even humming.
Then, suddenly, he snapped his fingers and smiled. “I got it! I know what you should name him!”
“Oh this is going to be goo—”
“Name him Lex!”
“Lex?” Spitfire said with a raised brow.
“Yeah! Lex,” Anon said, staring down at the husky. He patted it gently, before nuzzling her cheek. “Spitty, that is a perfect name for a husky. Not too common of a name, and from what I remember, Lex is a combination of cool and adorable.”
Spitfire smirked and nuzzled Anon back. “Well, you sold me on that name. Lex it is!”
The two relished in their victory for a little while longer, before Spitfire gently placed Lex in her saddlebags. She flicked her bag shut with her wing and fastened the pouch shut with her maw.
Satisfied with how she stored her new pet, she turned back to Anon to see him looking at her rather intensely. “What?”
Anon chuckled. “Just watching you handle Lex. You were so careful with him.”
Spitfire felt a distinct heat rush to her face. “It’s because you got him for me. I-I wasn’t expecting it.”
“Oh, so you had no faith in my crane game ability, Spitty?”
“Anon, you know for a fact I didn’t mean it like that,” Spitfire said with a punctual eye roll.
“Nope. I’m just facing the truth. The facts. The root of the problem: me, myself, and I—oof!”
Spitfire interrupted him, bapping the silly human of hers on the side of his head with her wing. She smiled and nuzzled his cheek. “Enough of the melodrama there, goofball. Let’s start walking over to the game I’ve been eying for the past few minutes.”
“Okay there, Captain,” Anon mumbled through a wince. The poor guy was holding his head with one of his hands.
Spitfire felt the sudden urge to tease him a bit. After all, if he really wanted that promotion, he’d have to earn it. So, she decided to show him a bit of tail. Walking a bit away, she flicked her tail up against his thigh and turned around, craning her head in a very salacious way. “Come on, stud. Let’s get in line before we miss our chance!”
Spitfire smirked as she knew that most likely got him to—
Suddenly, Anon picked her up, if her being way taller than she normally was was any indication. She felt his strong hands grip around her midsection, making her nearly yelp out at the change of pace. She glared down at him.
“Dude, what are you—”
“Giving you a better view of the arcade, duh,” He said, holding her in his arms again. “Oh, and moving you as fast as we can so we can play that game you wanted to play. It’s the Dance, Dance, Revolution dance off set, right?”
“How did you—”
“I have eyes in the back of my head, Spitfire. I am all knowing, all seeing, and all… everything!” Anon finished with a smirk on his face.
She was totally blushing like a tomato right now and she was not happy about it. “Anon, put me down!”
“Not until we get to the front of the line!”
The front of the line had finally approached them. Spitfire said it this way because, quite frankly, she had been cradled by Anon in front of everypony for… twenty different exchanges. She wasn’t too happy about it, as she swore she heard ponies whispering about her and her human. Yet, she knew if she pointed it out, Anon would probably make a scene or something. She didn’t want that at all.
So, she stayed quiet. And now here they were. Watching two more ponies currently selecting a song. The machine, from what she had gathered from listening to the songs other ponies picked, played various electronic, rock, and pop hits, along with some more uncommon classical songs too. Spitfire was excited to play, but she was way too comfortable in Anon’s grasp that sleep was tempting her to take a nap. She didn’t want to sleep yet, though, so she kept herself awake. Not to mention she didn’t want to provide Anon with any more ammo than what he already had.
Spitfire sighed as she felt his arms leave her body, the heat they provided no longer there. The remaining heat felt like a ghost had clutched her, telling her it would be okay, which, ultimately, made her shiver in place.
She flicked her wings open to make sure no feathers were out of place, and then adjusted a couple there that stuck out. She’d have to preen herself later, doing this out in the open and right in front of ponies would be a different type of performance she was not willing to do for free.
Shaking off the ghost that wanted her, she craned her neck and turned back to Anon. “You ready?”
“As I’ll ever be. I think this tech is new for you ponies, at least, from what I remember.”
“Really? I thought they had these out everywhere!”
“If they did, would there literally be a line this big in some random arcade in Canterlot?”
Spitfire blinked before tilting her head. “Yes.”
“Touché,” Anon said with a snap of his fingers. His gaze went south, for what Spitfire presumed was for the winter. Did humans migrate?
Spitfire sighed. She was mentally and woefully unprepared for this game at this point. The wait in the line had made her feel drowsy, and now that she was standing on her own four hooves, she felt like laying on a cloud.
But then the song for the ponies in front boomed. Her mind drifted back to the nightclubs in Manehattan, when their team had gone on the prowl for a night crawl that ended with them not remembering too much other than Soarin being absolutely plastered, and Spitfire having to carry his sorry pile of feathers back to their hotel. It was a great night, but…
…here she was, not drunk on her day off. She was here with Anon, waiting for her turn to climb onto a somewhat floating platform to play a rhythm game.
The loud synths synchronized with her heart as shivers raced down her spine as the crescendo of their chords collapsed into a bass drop that kept her goosebumps alive for much longer. The ponies playing were sweating as the notes on the screen raced up to the note. Their hooves were scrambling on the playmat as a sudden drum roll made them spam tap all the buttons they had available to press.
It took a few more final strings and chords before the song ended. And then, the two ponies walked away, letting Spitfire and Anon finally get their turn.
“Let’s go, Anon!”
She hopped on the machine, skipping happily over to her play area, and waited for Anon to do the same.
“Somepony is excited to play DDR.”
Her tail swished behind her, betraying her narrowed gaze at him. “Waiting this long in line would make anypony ecstatic, hon.”
Anon walked up the floating platform and smirked. “Fair enough. Unfortunately for you, I’m an expert at this game.”
“Oh?” Her ears flicked up. “You know this game, Anon?”
“Yeah, you ponies and your parallel universe shenanigans have thrown me for a loop when I heard about this game. It’s like our arcades and your arcades are nearly exact duplicates. Not sure how, even though Celestia and Luna already told me about it.”
Spitfire snorted. She knew the story too. He had told her when they first met, and he went on an hours long tirade on why ‘this shouldn’t be possible’ for ponies to have ‘all this technology when they barely used it in the first place’. And he told Spitfire that Celestia told him ‘well when you have magic…’ as an excuse. He apparently grew three heads taller as a response, but that was just Luna pulling a magical prank on him after he had told her about ‘the wacky inflatable tube men’. His neck was like a noodle for a little while, which made him ultimately panic and scream for them to change it back because his neck ‘did not work like that’.
Safe to say, the pranks were toned down.
Spitfire chuckled at the thought. But, she could save her laughter for later. She had a DDR session to get out of her system.
“Well, whatever parallel was drawn here, I know these songs like the back of my hoof.”
“You heard the tracklist?” Anon asked, his brow raised.
Spitfire could feel her lips tug upwards. “Considering we’ve listened to all the songs so far, yes. Although, I never would’ve imagined myself actually playing one of these babies. Didn’t think I’d have the time until when the season started.”
“Really? Do you not have enough free time during the off-season?” Anon asked, his attention now geared towards the screen attached to the front bar.
Spitfire looked away and cricked her neck. She stretched her forelegs first, followed by her hindlegs as they talked. “I’m usually—ah—usually busy helping out at the Academy during that time. Besides, during the season, I can just ask one of my teammates to come with me. I’m… I’m not a fan of walking alone in one of these places. Gotta have somepony with me.”
“Appearances and everything, I get you,” Anon said, before whistling loudly. “They got a lot of tracks on this game. I don’t even know any of these artists, well, except Octavia and PON-3. Do you know of this track?”
Spitfire stopped her stretching and looked down at the tracklist that mirrored onto her screen. She gasped. “Wait, they have their collaborations on here?!”
“Yeah, looks like they have a couple of them. Do you know any of these?”
“Of course I do, Anon. They’re good friends with the Wonderbolts, not that you’d know.”
“Of course they are…” Anon mumbled. “Which track of yours is your favorite?”
She excitedly selected the one that she was most ready to play, allowing Anon to hear the track preview. “Gotta be A Slice of Life. It’s pretty good, actually.”
Anon pursed his lips and bobbed his head to the beat. “Alright, not bad. No vocals as per usual. Is this song one of their more popular ones?”
Spitfire stretched one of her wings as she spoke, feeling it pop rather satisfyingly. “Dude—ah, there we go—that song is one of their most popular collaborations! Apparently they used it at some sort of wedding, but I wasn’t invited to that one. Something about Wonderbolt showtimes clashing with the time of the wedding, and for some reason, Matilda wasn’t keen on Soarin’s antics last time they ran into each other.”
“Not sure who you’re talking about, but if Soarin did something that another pony didn’t like, then either he was pissed that there wasn’t an apple pie, or worse.”
“Pfft, nah,” Spitfire said before gasping as she had stretched her foreleg just right. She looked around and noticed somepony not-so-inconspicuously whistling while looking away from her. She blushed and looked back over at Anon. “Sorry about that. Stretching like this is totally needed before I play this game. Don’t want to pull a foreleg or something.”
“Are you trying to pull my leg?”
“Not at all! What made you think of that?”
“Oh, nothing, “Anon said quickly, before turning his attention to the monitor in front of him. Spitfire watched as he flicked his finger across its surface as he continued, “So what did Soarin do then?”
Spitfire licked her lips as she watched him scroll through the list. “Something about accidentally bumping into a statue that they had commissioned way ahead of time. That thing broke so quickly, that there was no saving it from the mercy of gravity. And let’s just say, Soarin had to hoof the bill. He was surviving on noodles for a couple of months.”
“Jesus, you tried helping him?”
“Jesus? We’re talking about Soarin here! And I’m not taking on his debt! Are you crazy?”
“I must be crazy with that look you’re giving me,” Anon replied, giving Spitfire a slight smile. He then turned his head back toward the screen. “Thought you ponies would be spreading kindness in all sorts of ways, including monetary.”
“I mean, I’d help him if he hadn’t knocked over the most expensive statue of all ponykind.” Spitfire sighed as she got that annoying strain in her hindleg by bending down just right. “You know, we should probably pick a track. Let’s start with A Slice of Life.”
“You sure you want to start with that one?”
“I need a warm up anyways,” Spitfire said, flicking her wings just to make sure they didn’t fall asleep on her.
“Of course you need a warm up,” Anon said, mockingly. He flicked his finger so that the songs rolled, making a rather annoying cling noise every time he passed one. Eventually, he landed on the track and the machine reacted with kindness:
“SONG SELECTED. READY?!” The gruff announcer had bellowed out to the other ponies.
Spitfire kept the layout controls that flashed on her screen as ‘default’. She pressed her hoof and picked the X layout.
“PLAYER 2, READY,” the announcer declared.
“Anon, are you not using the—”
“What? You ponies and your X layout. It’s so goofy and not favorable for a biped.”
Spitfire raised a brow. “But that’s how everypony plays it.”
“Then you’re all goofs,” Anon replied, smacking his finger on the one labeled handicapable. “Trust me, even though this one is listed like that, it’s the best one for me.”
Spitfire blinked rather rapidly. “I’m not judging, but they might.”
The two looked behind them to see a couple ponies wave at them with sheepish smiles.
“Oh phooey,” Anon said as he turned back to look at her. He waved a hand nonchalantly in her direction. “Who cares what they think? Once they see the score I’ll get, there will be no questioning the method of my madness.”
“Well the time is now to show them the works, Anon,” Spitfire said, nearly chuckling behind her wing. She then flapped it to a close, and got herself in position. She stood on her play area, her hooves set right on the buttons.
“PLAYER 1. READY!”
She looked at her screen. The layout selection disappeared. What replaced it was the play area as four arrows corresponding to their area floated in front of them, before settling at the top of the screen. Arrows began to ascend from the bottom of it, while the song began to play.
She looked over at Anon one last time. He was leaning back, placing his arms on the back rail that usually was to make sure ponies wouldn’t fall off if they backed up too far. But, like her, he was looking at her too. He looked away from her once their gazes met, and muttered, “Good luck.”
“Don’t need it,” Spitfire replied, before looking back at her screen, prepping her right forehoof for the first note.
Octavia’s cello strings burst into the scene, leaving Spitfire to match the tempo, her hooves click-clacking in sync, each arrow being pressed to match. Since this was the ‘slower’ part of the track, the whole part was easy for her. It was actually so easy, that she could sneak a glance or two at Anon while she kept pace, while he, for some reason, wasn’t looking at her.
As her dance made her prance almost seemingly in place due to PON-3’s electronic drums mixing in with the strings, Spitfire knew that Anon was definitely going to have trouble with the next part. There was no way he was going to full combo it.
She licked her lips as the song picked up, head bobbing to the rising tempo. Her body swayed into the button presses in tandem to the quicker pace. Her legs worked harder, stronger, faster to strike the arrow keys precisely and swiftly. Her withers and flanks lifted to hit the double presses front and back, her body expertly riding the wild waves of the electronic symphony. But as it picked up more and more between each break, she was starting to need to stomp rather quickly, especially during the drum roll, one of the longest of the song.
For a split second, Spitfire took a peek at Anon’s screen. She needed to know if he had made it this far without dropping a single note. She gasped when she saw the number, the same number that was on her screen.
He had actually combo’d it all with two feet.
And worse, time seemed to slow down around him. Spitfire noted his movements, Anon’s legs criss-crossed to the song’s difficult double presses. Where Spitfire was a precision machine, Anon was a style savant, feet sliding and shifting to each button with frenzied grace. Leave it to him to twist his body mid hop to step on a rotating series of twin steps, flashing a ‘V’ with his fingers and the cheekiest of grinning winks at the growing crowd who was whooping and cheering for the popular duo. Half as many legs, yet somehow equal competition. Spitfire could not tell if her heart fluttered out of effort or how lithe his body was.
She let out a brief blow and focused hard. She, somehow, had managed to not break her combo (her hooves almost missed some notes because she was totally distracted by Anon). The song was continuing its course, laying down doubles, triplet patterns, and even a few long stacks that made Spitfire question herself how she hit them, but yet again, this game was way easier with four legs, even she could admit that.
However, when the song faded out and the final score screens were shown, Spitfire noted that she had full combo’d the song. She only dropped a couple late notes, so her accuracy was a bit lower than a perfect score, but she still got a S-rank. Now she just had to do was look over at Anon’s screen and—
“PERFECT!” the announcer said. “PLAYER 1 WINS. NEW BEST SCORE!”
—Spitfire’s shock was on full display. Anon somehow not only surpassed her score, but he had beaten it with one hundred percent accuracy with a bonus score that actually sniped the top score that was already set by one of the princesses? She thought she could’ve gotten away with a few late hits, but seriously? Anon did it? A double S and then some?
“I know, you don’t have to tell me twice,” Anon said, striking a pose.
Spitfire shook her head. “He only said it once, Anon. That second one was you talking to yourself.”
Anon looked behind him to see a pony screaming happily over at him. He turned back around to Spitfire and tilted his head. “Are you sure it wasn’t that pony jumping up and down?”
“I’m very sure about that. They’re not even looking at you!”
Her dumb human looked back at the pony who now hopped around what appeared to a spinning white machine. He sighed before turning back to her. “Oh,” he murmured before facepalming. “Anyway, that was a fun song. Feeling a bit winded already though—”
“How did you get the handicapable layout to actually work?”
“Dude, I have two legs and a back bar to brace myself with. Do you really think I wouldn’t know how to work this layout?” Anon said with an eyeroll of his own. He whipped his hand through his hair for a moment before continuing, “Besides, this is how all the pros do it back home. DDR is super competitive.”
“Guess we need to team up when the DDR competitive scene starts in Equestria,” Spitfire said. It was tempting to move over to give him a bump with her flanks, but she had to keep herself in line. Not to mention, once she hops off the platform, somepony else would consider it as theirs. Besides, they had one more song to do.
“So, any compliments you got for me, Spitty?”
“Nice score, Anon. Surprised you sniped Princess Luna’s top score.”
“Guess I’m going to get an earful once she hears about it,” Anon said, scrolling once again through the tracklist. “Say, you’re not going to tell her, are you?”
“Pfft, that depends on how the rest of the night goes.”
Spitfire’s eyes widened. She… said that, right? That’s what she just said? Her mind wrapped itself in a cocoon in some cave somewhere, and it stayed there, writhing as she realized the embarrassment that wore through her entire body.
Did someone leave the heater on?
“Wow—I didn’t know you had it in you, Spitty,” Anon replied with a cheeky grin. Stupid human. “You know there are foals around, right?”
Spitfire couldn’t feel the heat on her cheeks anymore. It was just SEARING HOT, her mental landscape burning the fires that laid Tartarus’s scorn on the forests that were once at peace inside her mind. “Dude, I-I didn’t mean it like that!”
“Well what did you mean?” Anon leaned closer to her. “Because that sounded like a request that I would want to hear for later on tonight, not now in front of everypony here.”
“You—you would want to?”
“Of course, I don’t think Celly would be opposed to giving you a guest room—”
“Not like that, Anon.”
Anon blinked. “Oh, so you did mean it that way. I was just making sure I offered the alternative first.”
Spitfire sighed and turned to her pad in front of her, flicking through the songlist with a hoof. “Let’s table this for later then, I’m… I’m not sure we should talk about it like you had said.”
“Right… right, sorry,” Anon went back to looking at his tracklist too, at least, that’s what it looked like from what Spitfire gathered from her peripherals.
She totally needed to focus. Just find another song, and then get out of there. But make the song worth it, make the performance worth it. She wasn’t going to let Anon win this time.
She flicked further up until she saw a song that caught her eye: Cloud Cascade. It was listed as an unknown artist, one of several songs that went by that name. It threw her off, as none of them seem to be played.
“Hey, Anon, do you know of this song?” Spitfire asked, her hoof tapping the song on the select screen to preview it.
Anon’s eyes widened the more he listened to it. “This… this sounds familiar. How did you…?”
Spitfire tilted her head. “It’s showing up under an unknown artist, so—”
“There’s. No. Way. Either Princess Luna and Celestia ported some of my songs on my nearly dead cell phone, or someone is playing with the whole parallel universes shindig.” Spitfire watched as his finger flicked down the list, while his eyes darted all over the song list. “There’s no way! How are all of these here? And why are they mostly instrumentals?”
Spitfire didn’t know what to say. She didn’t know if Anon was about to jump off the platform and chase down Princess Celestia all over his song playlist, but if these were truly music from his world, she wondered…
Spitfire shook her head. “Sorry, Anon…”
“Sorry for what?” Anon said with a… grin? Why was he smiling at her like that? “You shouldn’t be sorry, you just discovered music that I thought I wasn’t going to hear ever again! Spitty, I… Let’s play the song you wanted to play.”
“Cloud Cascade?”
“Yeah. Even if it’s just an instrumental. At least it’s something.”
“Do you… know the artist?”
Anon sighed. “Most of my memories turned into swiss cheese when I got here. It’s like I lost it when I went to sleep that night and I woke up just… living. Granted, some of the memories still exist, but there’s a lot of blanks I have to fill in.”
“Oh,” Spitfire said. That’s all she could say to that. That’s definitely something they should talk about later. “Eh, well I’m glad you at least get to hear something from your time on… Earth, right?”
“Yeah, Earth. I.. I don’t know but hopefully this will spur some good memories.”
“No second thoughts?”
“Spitty, hit the play button before I change my mind.”
“Alright, alright, don’t get your pants in a bunch,” Spitfire said. She smiled when she heard Anon groan at that one.
The screen lit up when the song was finally selected. “SONG SELECTED. READY?!”
The layout screen floated in front of them. Spitfire tapped her hoof and prepared herself. She tapped the ready button.
The play area on the screen was set in place. And the song began to play.
Spitfire licked her lips as she raised her foreleg, and slammed it against the corresponding note. She began to lose herself in the guitar riffs and drums—she had never heard of anything like this in Equestria, it was exhilarating as she stomped her hooves against the platform. Her legs began to wobble, but she persevered, her eyes glued to the screen.
She kept her precision, up until the song decided to change, to a slower calmer pace. Slowly the drums began to fade back in, and the drummer decided to throw a few too many fills in.
Spitfire yelped as she accidentally missed the note she needed, but when she was about to express her distaste—
“SHIT!”
Anon screamed and slammed against his side of the platform. He had grunted on his way down and was currently holding his leg.
“Whoa? Are you okay?” A nearby pony said, rushing over to his side.
The game suddenly felt way less important.
“Anon!” Spitfire yelled as she fluttered over to him. She helped him up to a sitting position by propping him on the nearby bar brace. “Are you okay?”
Anon gritted his teeth and groaned. “I-I don’t know. I don’t feel any pain, but maybe that’s my adrenaline suppressing it right now.” He let go of his leg and attempted to move it as slow as he could. No pain showed on his face, which made him move a bit closer to Spitfire. “I think I’m good.” He reached out to her, his hand open. “Pull me up?”
Spitfire grabbed onto his hand and pulled back. He winced as he tried to get up but was able to get so, shakily standing on his own two legs. He let out another sharp exhale, and from what Spitfire could tell, everything looked okay. Okay enough for him to walk? Maybe.
“Come on big guy. That’s enough DDR for today.” She turned to the other ponies in line. “You guys can take our spot.”
“Thank you, Spitfire!” A mare said, looking over at her filly who asked ‘Mom, is that really Spitfire?’. It made Spitfire smile and wave at the filly, who gasped and stared at her like the little one saw her as a mirage in a desert.
Spitfire turned away from the scene, before stifling a giggle. It was always great to be reminded of her job like that. Any other way where it involved cameras and scandals could be tossed in a nearby dumpster.
“Sorry I couldn’t get through the whole song, Spitty,” Anon said.
“Pfft, no worries,” Spitfire replied, thanking Anon mentally for getting her back on track. She glanced at her human’s not-so-injured leg. “I’m just glad you didn’t need to go to the hospital. What did you try to do anyway?”
Spitfire’s ears flicked up as Anon spoke, “Tried to flip around for some style points. Missed completely and slipped on the edge of the play area.”
She laughed. She laughed hard. “Anon, why were you attempting to show off?”
“Gotta match up to you somehow,” he muttered, which made her laugh even harder. “What?”
“That was silly. Hope you learned to leave the showboating to me and my team.”
Anon snorted. “Not a word—”
“Oh, I won’t say anything…”
“Oh thank God—”
“Yet,” Spitfire declared, a grin on her face. “Gotta make sure I mention this to my teammates. Can’t believe you attempted to show off to other ponies and almost tore your—hey!”
He had interrupted her spiel by rubbing his hand in her mane. He smirked. “That’s fine, as long as turnabout is fair play.”
“Turnabout is…?”
“I know that you have more than just that bear, Spitty.”
Spitfire gasped. “Don’t you dare…”
“As I said, turnabout is fair play. You should be okay with that, right?”
She pursed her lips and frowned. She couldn’t even respond to that. How did he know about her plush collection? She kept that hidden well underneath her bed! She sighed, knowing that her dignity as a Captain was now in the hands of her human.
Maybe it was in safe hands? She could only hope, as she mentally began writing her will just in case.
Walking out of the arcade with her human in tow, the two were about to pass the counter of the Enchanted Comic Books store when Poptart, the stallion from before, noticed them.
“Anon? Heading out already?”
Anon nodded. “Looks like it. Probably should get that comic—”
Poptart smirked as he magicked the issue right over to him. It dropped right in Anon’s hands. “Don’t worry about the bits, I’ll put it on your tab.”
Spitfire raised a brow. “How do you have a tab at a comic book store, Anon?”
Anon looked elsewhere, including the floor, which was brown as can be. “Uh… don’t ask.”
“Are you hiding—”
“Nope, nope, nope! Don’t ask.”
Spitfire chuckled. “Oh? Do you have some risque comic books I should know about, Anon?”
Poptart smirked and walked over. “He’s bought a few, but I can’t tell you which ones.”
Anon glared at Poptart. “Dude, why did you tell her? That’s against the bro code!”
“Hey, that was just me giving you a nudge. You guys are dating, right? Maybe she’s down to read some of them with you?”
Spitfire watched as Anon turned into a red tomato, his face fully redder than any apple she’s ever seen. She was going to milk this for what it's worth. “Maybe at a later date, but you know, maybe you should start preparing, Anon. I could see us trying to reenact one of them back at the castle...”
That short circuited Anon, if his deadpan stare was evidence of that. His tomato faced look remained, and a bead of sweat raced down his cheek.
Spitfire laughed as she took the book out of his grasp and slid it in her saddlebags. Once she got it snug in there, she turned back to Poptart, smiling all the while. “I’ll keep loverboy here in check, Poptart. Thank you for getting that comic book for him!”
“No problem,” Poptart said as Spitfire was pulling her frozen human out of the establishment, being careful of his head. “Have a good one you two!”
“Will do!” Spitfire shouted back. She tugged on his leg and was able to get him out of the door enough so that other ponies could get past them. “Equestria to Anon? Hello?”
Anon shook his head rather rapidly and walked shakily down the stairs. Spitfire watched him as he turned around and glared at her. “I can’t believe you said that.”
“Had to get you back for messing up my mane,” Spitfire said as she attempted to fix her mane. She sighed when it was no use, she’d have to style it once she got back to her apartment in Cloudsdale. “Good thing you’re not upset about it, right?”
“No, but I’d be lying to say I wasn’t at least somewhat worried.”
“Worried? You were blushing like a tomato, big guy,” she said, nudging her date playfully with her wing. “But I guess it was all worth it. Thank you, Anon, for taking me out today.”
Spitfire looked up to see him smile back at her. “Anytime. Although, it’s pretty late now. We probably should start getting back to the castle.”
He was right. The sun was starting to fade into the distance, an amber fade greeting them. Knowing the time, she was definitely not a fan of flying all the way back to Cloudsdale at this hour. It wasn’t because she couldn’t do it or there were any hazards, but more so that she was… tired. They had spent quite a while just goofing around Canterlot. Not to mention her flight here did actually make her feel a little bit of fatigue…
“Yeah, we probably should head back, huh?”
Anon nodded and began to walk ahead of her. “Yeah…”
Spitfire walked behind him, wondering if the disappointment that had eased into his voice meant something more was to come.