All Day, Everyday.

by Penanka72

Chapter 12 - HERE WE GO!

Chapter 12

The roles had reversed in a delightfully chaotic classroom setting where Amelia found herself as the unlikely instructor, armed with a pointing stick and a blackboard, teaching Discord—the personification of chaos—how to play football. Discord, clad in a stereotypically nerdy ensemble complete with tight sweater vest and even tighter glasses, scribbled down notes in a frenzy. The concept of football had been foreign to him, and Amelia had her work cut out explaining that 'offside' wasn't an adventurous leap off a cliff. Once that misunderstanding was cleared up, she thought he might just be ready to try his hand—or foot—at the actual game.

With a snap of his fingers, Discord conjured a perfect, lush green pitch. The white lines were crisply drawn, and the goals stood invitingly at either end. It was time to put theory into practice. Amelia then urged Discord to materialise a football, which he did with a dramatic flourish. But when it came to interacting with it, Discord hesitated. He circled the ball like a cat wary of water, bending down to scrutinise it from every conceivable angle. Eventually, he poked it tentatively with his finger before vanishing in a puff of smoke, his tie flung to the ground in his wake.

“Nope! Sorry, Amelia! I change my mind!” Discord called out, his voice trailing off into the distance.

With a determined huff, Amelia marched over, picked up the discarded tie, and using her best "teacher" voice, summoned Discord back. As he reappeared, she grabbed him firmly by the ear, eliciting a series of theatrical ‘ouchies’ from him as she dragged him back to the ball. Standing him in front of it, she pointed at the spherical object expectantly, tapping her foot impatiently.

Discord, with a dramatic sigh, hyped himself up. Taking a deep breath and closing his eyes as if about to face his doom, he delivered a mighty kick. Amelia watched, her eyes widening in disbelief as the ball took an improbable path, twisting and turning through the air before sailing into the top right corner of the goal—a perfect knuckleball.

Amelia’s jaw dropped. Discord, with only his second-ever contact with a football, had scored a goal that professional players might spend years perfecting. The spirit of chaos might not have grasped offside, but he certainly had a knack for dramatic flair in sports.

Discord opened one eye, peeking at the trajectory of the ball, then turned to Amelia with a sheepish grin. “Was that right? Did I ‘football’ correctly?” he asked, his voice a mix of pride and genuine surprise at his own athletic display.


After coaxing Discord into practicing a simple pass, Amelia braced herself for a gentle exchange. Unfortunately, her hopes were dashed spectacularly as Discord, with the enthusiastic zeal of a cannon operator, launched the ball toward her like a missile. The ball, acting more like a high-speed comet than a piece of sports equipment, hurtled through the air with such velocity that Amelia had to execute a hasty and rather ungraceful dive to the side to avoid an impromptu meeting with the turbocharged sphere.

Discord, seemingly oblivious to the near miss, beamed with pride at his "pass" which had clearly confused the fundamental difference between passing and power shooting. The grass where Amelia had stood moments earlier was now thoroughly divoted, a testament to the force behind Discord's enthusiastic kick. Amelia picked herself up, dusting off the grass stains, and deadpanned at the cheerful Discord. Amelia made a mental note to dive out of the way of his shots when she was in goal.

Next, Amelia decided it was time to introduce Discord to dribbling and a few fancy skill moves that she had learned from watching her brother. She demonstrated each technique with a careful explanation, showing him how to lightly tap the ball with the inside of her foot to keep it close while moving forward.

"Alright, Discord, your turn. Just keep it slow and controlled." Amelia instructed, passing him the ball gently.

Discord eyed the ball suspiciously as if it might sprout legs and scamper away. He tentatively tapped it, then, gaining a bit of confidence, tried to mimic Amelia’s fluid motions. The results were... unexpectedly artistic. His first attempt at a step-over turned into a sort of pirouette, which was followed by a wildly flamboyant series of flicks and twists that resembled a dance more than a soccer drill.

Amelia couldn't contain her laughter as she watched Discord add his own flair to each move, turning basic dribbling into a chaotic ballet. "Maybe stick to the basics for now." she suggested through chuckles, her sides aching from laughter.

Discord, undeterred and ever the showman, nodded enthusiastically. "Perhaps I'll invent my own moves, Amelia! How about this one?" He proceeded to spin around, accidentally sending the ball flying off with an impressive kick that would have made a decent field goal in American football.

"Maybe we call that one the 'Discord Special'." Amelia replied, retrieving the ball from where it had landed a good distance away. She tossed it back to him. "Let's try just walking with the ball first. We can work up to the 'Discord Special' later."

With a nod of determination, Discord focused on the ball, slowly dribbling it back towards her with exaggerated care, clearly trying to avoid any more unintentional acrobatics. It was a sight to behold, and Amelia realised that teaching Discord football was perhaps one of the most entertaining and unpredictable experiences she'd ever had.

Amelia was curious to see how Discord would handle being a goalkeeper, so she positioned him between the goalposts and started taking a few practice shots. Every shot seemed like a moral dilemma for Amelia as Discord, rather than blocking the ball, dodged each attempt with dramatic flair, proclaiming that the 'football was launching a personal attack' and lamenting his inevitable defeat by the sport itself.

With each missed save, Discord's antics grew, turning goalkeeping into a performance art where the aim was apparently to avoid the ball at all costs. By the time Amelia took her final shot, her patience and aim had peaked—resulting in a powerful kick that sailed directly toward the goal. Discord, true to form, chose that exact moment to leap out of the way, only to misjudge his evasion. The ball struck him squarely in the face, sending him tumbling backward into the net.

Amelia sprinted to his side, concerned yet struggling to stifle a laugh, finding Discord dazed on the ground, tiny footballs cartoonishly orbiting his head. He sported a nosebleed and mumbled about his crushing defeat by the ruthless sport.

As she helped him to his feet, it was clear that while goalkeeping might not be in his future, his ability to shoot—or at least dramatically interact with the ball—suggested another role. "Maybe goalkeeping isn't your calling.” Amelia suggested with a smirk, "but with that shooting power, you might make a great striker, as long as you aim at the net instead of away from it!"

Discord, still nursing his bruised ego (and nose), nodded thoughtfully. "Perhaps you're right, Amelia. Striking fear—or footballs—into opponents might just be my true calling on the field!" Discord said with a grin.

After an extensive session coaching Discord on the finer points of football and sharpening his skills with the ball, Amelia decided it was finally time to kick off their much-anticipated match. But before they could start, there were a few final tweaks needed to ensure everything was perfect for the game!

Amelia grinned, her excitement palpable as she rubbed her hands together. "Time to set the stage!" she exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with anticipation as she turned to Discord. "Discord, could you conjure up the Santiago Bernabéu Stadium for us?" she asked, her voice tinged with eagerness as she clasped her hands together in a pleading gesture.

With a mischievous smirk and a flourish of his hands, Discord snapped his fingers. The ground beneath them trembled, and the air shimmered as if reacting to an invisible pulse. Slowly, the iconic structure of the Santiago Bernabéu Stadium began to rise around them. The stadium, a marvel of modern architecture, unfurled like a flower greeting the sun, its vast tiers and sweeping curves materialising from the chaos.

"One of the best football stadiums on Earth, home to Real Madrid and their 14 Champions League trophies." Amelia explained, her voice filled with reverence as she guided Discord's gaze around the newly formed arena. The stadium's vastness was breathtaking, with towering stands that seemed to stretch endlessly upwards, each seat meticulously crafted to offer a perfect view of the pitch below.

"Wow!" Discord breathed out, his usual facade of nonchalance replaced by genuine awe. He turned in a slow circle, taking in the enormity and the grandeur of the stadium that now enveloped them, his eyes wide with wonder as he absorbed every detail of the architectural masterpiece that had sprung up around them.

As they looked around, the interior opened up into a vast amphitheatre of seats, cascading down in a series of white and blue tiers, reflecting the iconic colours of Real Madrid. The seating was designed to offer an unobstructed view from every angle, creating a coliseum-like atmosphere where every shout, cheer, and gasp from the crowd could be felt vibrating through the air.

The pitch itself was a masterpiece, a perfectly maintained expanse of grass that seemed to glow with an emerald brilliance. Precision-cut and watered to an optimum level, the grass was a canvas waiting for the players' artistry. Surrounding the pitch, the technical areas were marked out meticulously, with the dugouts modelled in clear, contemporary designs that offered fans a glimpse of the tactical discussions within.

Above, the stadium's roof, a marvel of engineering, arched gracefully over the space, equipped with state-of-the-art retractable panels that could open to the heavens or close to create an intimate battleground. This innovative feature ensured that games could be held in any weather, adding a layer of versatility to the iconic venue.

Around the upper tiers, luxury boxes peered down like royal galleries, offering plush seating, exclusive amenities, and privacy, catering to VIP guests and offering one of the most prestigious viewing experiences in the world of sports.

The entire structure resonated with the echoes of past victories, each corner steeped in the rich history of triumphs that had transpired on its hallowed grounds. It was more than just a stadium; it was a temple of football where legends had been made, and the dreams of millions had soared and sometimes shattered. This was where the heart of football beat the loudest, a place every player and fan revered as sacred.

Next on Amelia's list were the fans, those indispensable pillars of football whose passion and loyalty could turn a game into an epic battle. She wanted supporters with fierce devotion, those who lived and breathed for their team, fans who would stand by their players through thick and thin. Amelia considered summoning Borussia Dortmund fans, known for their vibrant Yellow Wall, but opted for a crowd whose language she could more easily navigate—the fiery devotees of a Premier League team.

"Now! Could you fill the stands with Newcastle fans, please?" Amelia requested, knowing the Toon Army was renowned for their undying support and thunderous chants.

With a flick of his fingers, Discord conjured the fans. Almost immediately, the atmosphere in the stadium transformed as echoed chants and passionate shouts began to resonate from the tunnels, rising in volume like a tidal wave of fervor. One by one, fans clad in black and white streamed into the stands, each taking their seat but never ceasing their anthems of support. Amelia's grin broadened as she absorbed their energy; the collective power of their voices charged the air like electricity.

To Discord, the roar of the Newcastle fans was akin to the drums of war, a thunderous army laying siege to his senses. The stadium seemed to shake under the weight of their collective voice, every shout a declaration of loyalty and an assertion of presence. It felt like a declaration of war, the intense atmosphere charged with the spirit of competition and camaraderie.

As the stands filled, the Santiago Bernabéu, now echoing with the distinct Geordie accent, took on a life of its own. It was as if the stadium had traveled across continents and transformed into St. James' Park, with the Toon Army ready to defend their turf.

Amelia's eyes sparkled with mischief as she took in the overwhelming spectacle of the filled stands. Turning to Discord, she couldn't help but chuckle at his slightly overwhelmed expression. "What do you think, eh? Understand why football is special now?" she asked, her grin spreading as she absorbed the electrifying atmosphere.

"Special? It feels like I'm gonna have to fight all these humans." Discord replied, his voice tinged with a mix of awe and a hint of nervous apprehension as he glanced around at the sea of enthusiastic Newcastle fans chanting rhythmically.

Amelia laughed heartily, her voice blending with the chants of the crowd. "That's what it always feels like with passionate fans. They make you feel... small." she explained, her gaze sweeping over the stadium that now pulsed with the collective energy of the crowd.

"But that's the beauty of it." Amelia continued, her voice raised slightly to be heard over the continuous roar of the fans. "They're not here to fight; they're here because they love the game. Their passion, their loyalty—it's what fuels the players, turns the stadium into a fortress, and makes every match feel like a battle, but in the best way possible."

“Still sounds like football has brainwashed them, using them like I once used humans under my control.” Discord murmured, making Amelia roll her eyes.


Selecting the perfect referee to oversee their unique match proved easier than Amelia initially thought. As her mind sifted through the pantheon of football referees past and present, a playful thought teased her: Antony Taylor? No, that wasn't going to happen. Instead, her choice was clear and incontestable—Pierluigi Collina, universally revered as the greatest football referee of all time.

"Anyway, could you bring Pierluigi Collina here? The referee?" Amelia requested, her voice filled with a mix of excitement and respect as she turned to Discord, who was still captivated by the raucous atmosphere of the crowd.

With a thoughtful nod, Discord raised his hand and snapped his fingers. In a blink, the legendary Pierluigi Collina materialised from the depths of the tunnel, striding onto the pitch with an imposing aura. Dressed impeccably in his iconic black referee kit, his shorts and shirt impeccably neat, he carried himself with a grave dignity befitting his status. A whistle, essential to his role, hung from a sleek black lanyard around his neck, swaying slightly with each purposeful step he took toward the centre of the field.

As Collina approached, Amelia beamed, her excitement palpable. She extended her hand eagerly, which Collina grasped firmly, his grip strong and assured. Beside her, Discord extended his own hand tentatively, his usual confidence slightly dimmed in the face of Collina’s stern, authoritative presence. Collina’s distinctive bald head, his sharp, piercing eyes, and the well-earned lines of experience etched across his face gave him an air of formidable command.

"Welcome, Mr. Collina! It’s truly an honour to have you referee our match." Amelia said warmly, her voice echoing slightly across the open field.

Collina nodded curtly, a professional smile briefly crossing his features. "Thank you." he replied in his measured tone, "I look forward to ensuring fair play, even under these... unusual circumstances." his gaze flickering briefly to encompass the unique setup before settling back on Amelia with a look of cool assessment.

With Collina’s presence, the pitch transformed into a stage set for serious competition, his reputation alone imposing a sense of order and anticipation, reminding all present that this was no ordinary match.

The moment had arrived that Amelia had eagerly anticipated—the selection of her dream team. Her mind buzzed with the names of countless legendary footballers she had admired over the years. However, her team could only consist of 11 players, and as she had appointed herself as the goalkeeper, she focused on assembling the most formidable defense imaginable.

"For my team." Amelia announced with a confident, almost mischievous grin, "I need 1994 Cafu at right-back, 2019 Virgil Van Dijk and 2016 Sergio Ramos at center-back, and 1994 Paolo Maldini at left-back. That’s my defensive lineup!" Her voice echoed with authority and excitement as she turned to Discord, who was ready to conjure her wishes into reality.

With a casual flick of his wrist, Discord snapped his fingers, and the atmosphere around the tunnel entrance shifted. One by one, the chosen legends—Cafu, Van Dijk, Ramos, and Maldini—emerged. They walked with a purposeful stride, their expressions stoic and focused, side by side in perfect sync. Each wore their iconic jerseys, pristine and vibrant, representing the pinnacle of their careers. As they approached Amelia, they exuded an air of legendary prowess, standing tall and formidable at a respectful distance from her.

Amelia's heart raced with excitement, and a part of her wanted to pinch herself as she beheld these titans of football, all in their prime. The reality of having these players on her team was both thrilling and almost overwhelming.

"Wow! Hi! How ya doin'!" She greeted them enthusiastically as they neared, her voice a mixture of awe and delight. She reached out to shake their hands, each handshake sending a surge of surreal joy through her. Her admiration for them was palpable, and in a spontaneous burst of fandom, she couldn't resist asking each of them for an autograph.

The players, perhaps amused and certainly accustomed to such adulation, responded with warm smiles and gracious nods, signing whatever she presented. The moment was electric, blending the awe of meeting one's heroes with the anticipation of leading them onto the pitch.

After directing her defensive stalwarts to begin their warm-ups, Amelia faced the daunting task of selecting her midfield—the core of her dream team and perhaps the most crucial decision. The pool of talent was immense, with numerous legendary midfielders shining brightly in their respective eras. Nonetheless, Amelia was determined to choose players renowned for their tireless work ethic and ability to command the midfield tirelessly.

"Now, could you please summon 2004 Steven Gerrard, 2010 Sergio Busquets, and 2010 Andrés Iniesta, captain of my team! That’ll be my midfield!" Amelia declared confidently, ready to shape the heart of her lineup. She watched expectantly as Discord, with a flick of his fingers, brought her choices into reality.

One by one, the iconic midfielders emerged from the tunnel: Gerrard with his robust dynamism, Busquets with his tactical intelligence, and Iniesta with his unparalleled finesse. They approached Amelia, their presence alone elevating the pitch's atmosphere. Each greeted her warmly, their handshakes firm and respectful, their faces showing a mix of focus and excitement for the game ahead.

However, when it came time to shake hands with Gerrard, Amelia couldn't resist indulging in a bit of playful rivalry owing to her Everton allegiance. As Gerrard extended his hand, Amelia swiftly withdrew hers, cheekily thumbing her nose and wiggling her fingers at him in a classic jest. Gerrard's response was a mix of surprise and amusement. He huffed a laugh, his competitive spirit taking the jest in stride, and gently tapped Amelia's cheek with his hand, his gesture light but carrying the playful rebuke of "you cheeky sod."

This lighthearted moment broke the ice further, drawing chuckles from the others and creating a spirited camaraderie among the team. With Gerrard, Busquets, and Iniesta ready to dominate the midfield, Amelia felt confident that her team possessed the grit and creativity to steer the game in their favour, mixing tenacity with tactical brilliance.

Amelia had already assembled a formidable backline and a dynamic midfield, but the selection of her attacking trio was where her heart truly raced with anticipation. The choice seemed almost straightforward, given the sheer talent of the players she envisioned leading her attack. With a gleam in her eye, she prepared to unveil her frontline to Discord, who appeared both intrigued and slightly wary of what was to come.

"Now for my front three." Amelia declared with a competitive edge in her tone, "I'll go with 2010 Lionel Messi at right wing, 2013 Neymar Jr at left wing, and last but not least, 2014 Cristiano Ronaldo as the striker. That will be my team to play against you!" Her challenge hung in the air, echoing with the weight of the names she had chosen.

Discord, with a resigned yet amused huff, snapped his fingers in response. Instantaneously, from the shadows of the tunnel, the legendary trio emerged, their presence alone transforming the atmosphere of the pitch. Messi, with his characteristic low-key demeanour but unmistakable aura of greatness; Neymar, exuding flair and a playful confidence; and Ronaldo, his stature and focused expression broadcasting his relentless determination to win.

Amelia's excitement bubbled over as she watched these icons of football stride toward her. Their approach was like that of warriors taking to the battlefield, yet they carried the easy confidence of those accustomed to the adulation and pressure of the world stage. As they reached her, standing ready to receive instructions like soldiers awaiting orders, Amelia's professionalism momentarily gave way to fan-like enthusiasm.

She eagerly shook their hands, each handshake sending a thrill through her. In a spontaneous burst of excitement, she couldn't resist asking for selfies with each of them. Gathering Messi, Neymar, and Ronaldo together, Amelia snapped what she internally proclaimed the greatest selfie of all time. The trio, perhaps used to such requests, obliged with good-natured smiles, their camaraderie evident even in the simple act of posing for a photo.

This photo, capturing the essence of football royalty, would not only serve as a treasured memento for Amelia but also as a symbol of the incredible assembly of talent she had managed to bring together for this once-in-a-lifetime match.

As Amelia surveyed her assembled team, she couldn't help but feel a surge of pride and excitement. There they stood, each player a paragon of football excellence, their physiques honed to perfection, radiating the prowess and skill that had made them legends in their own time. The sight of such formidable athletes, each at the peak of their abilities, filled her with a sense of awe and mad determination.

The gleaming jerseys, the focused expressions, and the sheer presence of these players on the pitch made the atmosphere electric. Messi, Ronaldo, and Neymar mingled with Gerrard, Maldini, and Iniesta, discussing strategies and warming up with an ease that spoke of their innate mastery of the game. The defensive titans like Ramos and Van Dijk exuded calm assurance, ready to thwart any challenge.

Amelia's grin widened as she took it all in, the reality of her dream team playing together igniting a fiery enthusiasm within her. This was not just a collection of great players; it was a finely tuned machine, each part working in harmony with the others, driven by a shared goal of victory and excellence. With a team like this, she felt unstoppable, ready to take on any opponent, real or imagined, on this field of dreams that had been conjured from her deepest football fantasies.

“Well, I must admit, I have no idea who any of these players are, but they do look strong and tough.” Discord admitted, crossing his arms and surveying Amelia's lineup with a mix of admiration and bemusement. His gaze lingered on the players, clearly impressed by their athletic prowess even if their reputations were lost on him.

“But now, it’s my turn!” Discord announced, his voice tinged with excitement. With a dramatic flourish, he snapped his fingers, casting a mischievous glance towards Amelia. The suddenness of the action caught her off guard, prompting her to whip her head around towards the tunnel, her eyes wide with anticipation and surprise.

From the shadows of the tunnel, four figures emerged, their approach marked by an aura of mystery. Amelia squinted, trying to recognise any of them, but none of the faces were familiar. These weren’t the football legends of Earth.

One of the figures is an exuberant, bubblegum-pink pony whose radiant, curly mane and tail showcase striking hues ranging from deep magenta to light pastel pink. Her eyes, wide and bright, are a vivid aquamarine, twinkling with mirth and mischief. She beams with a wide, endearing grin, her expressive face reflecting her unstoppable joy and enthusiasm.

She's dressed for the occasion in a vibrant yellow goalkeeper jersey that hugs her frame, contrasting sharply with her pink fur. The jersey is sleek, tailored to allow freedom of movement, and features black trim along the edges, giving it a professional edge. Her gloves are heavy-duty, designed for agility, with padded fingers and a grippy texture essential for catching and throwing the soccer ball effectively. Completing her outfit are high-performance football boots, robust and cleated for excellent traction, dyed in a matching sunny yellow that stands out vividly against the grassy pitch.

As she skips energetically from the tunnel, each bounce is full of life, her tail bobbing animatedly behind her. Her presence is like a burst of sunlight on the field, easily becoming the centre of attention and drawing smiles from all around with her irrepressible spirit and charming antics.

The figure of a bat pony emerges onto the grassy pitch came next, his presence marked by a striking contrast between his appearance and demeanour. His fur is a deep, dark grey, almost blending into the shadows, complemented by a sleek, black mane that falls neatly back, hinting at a certain meticulousness. His eyes, a piercing crimson, are frequently cast downward, avoiding the gazes of those around him, reflecting a distinct discomfort with the crowd.

He's clad in a lime green jersey, the vivid hue standing out starkly against his muted tones, suggesting an attempt to blend in or perhaps a mismatch between how he is seen and how he feels. The jersey hangs a bit loosely on him, practical and unrestrictive, necessary for the freedom of movement his winged form requires.

As he makes his way onto the pitch, his posture is reserved, his head bowed, embodying an almost palpable sense of unease with the bustling environment. His steps are slow and deliberate, each one measured and cautious, as if he's constantly aware of the space he occupies. Despite the bright jersey, he seems to shrink away from attention, preferring the solitude that his quiet, measured demeanour affords him in a place where every other spirit is high and raucous.

The next pony was a towering earth pony striding onto the pitch with a palpable air of confidence, his muscular build and tall stature making him a noticeable presence. His cream-coloured fur contrasts beautifully with his mane and tail, which are a dynamic mix of turquoise and navy blue, lending him a distinctive, striking look. His eyes, a soft shade of pink, gleam with excitement and a readiness to engage in the game ahead.

He is dressed in the team's lime green jersey, which fits snugly over his robust frame, emphasising his muscular shoulders and broad chest. As he walks, he puffs out his chest proudly, each step taken with a purposeful, confident gait that suggests not only physical strength but also a mental preparedness and eagerness to take on whatever challenges the game might bring.

This pony's demeanour radiates leadership and assurance, as he surveys the field and his teammates, ready to play his heart out. His presence is both inspiring and commanding, suggesting he is a key player who thrives under the competitive pressures of the sport.

Lastly, A vibrant earth pony makes her entrance onto the pitch, her presence as fiery as her mane. Her fur is a bright orange, vivid and bold, perfectly complementing her mane that flames in hues of red, orange, and yellow, as if mimicking a blazing fire. Her eyes, a striking yellow, sparkle with mischief and an unspoken challenge.

She sports the team's lime green jersey, which adds a sharp contrast to her fiery colour palette, making her stand out even more among her teammates. As she walks, there's a deliberate swagger to her step, exuding confidence and a touch of defiance. Her smile is wide and mischievous, revealing her punk-style attitude and readiness to stir things up.

With a casual crack of her knuckles, she signals her readiness not just to play, but to dominate the game. Her posture and expressions all speak of a mare who is always in search of adventure and perhaps a bit of trouble, making her a formidable and spirited competitor on the field.

Amelia's gaze followed the eclectic group as they approached, her eyes keenly observing their distinct gaits and the unique aura each one exuded. The group was not just diverse in appearance but also in demeanour, each character vividly embodying their personal traits through their posture and expressions.

As they reached Discord, the contrast between his chaotic assembly and Amelia's meticulously chosen football legends was stark. Yet, the sight of these vibrant characters, each so different yet united by the upcoming challenge, added an exhilarating layer of unpredictability to the match.

“Meet my backline!" Discord announced with a flourish, "Pinkie Pie, the goalkeeper, and my centre-backs, Nightstalker, Iron Hoof, and Solar Blaze. The finest defenders Equestria has ever seen!” His voice carried a mischievous tone, highlighting his playful ignorance of football, replaced by his confidence in these uniquely skilled players from a different realm. “I may not know much about your football, but I assure you, these players are champions at hoofball.” he added with a cheeky grin.

Amelia’s expression transformed into one of wonder and intrigue as she processed the names and faces before her. Pinkie Pie, the goalkeeper, was particularly notable with her vibrant pink mane and bubbly demeanour that seemed at odds with the typical solemnity of a seasoned goalkeeper. Yet, there was something about her that resonated with familiarity. Amelia’s mind raced—Pinkie Pie, of course! She suddenly remembered where she had heard the name. Pinkie Pie was celebrated as one of the top five goalkeepers of all time in Equestria, renowned not just for her skills but for being one of the six hoofball prodigies. Her presence in goal was legendary, her saves almost miraculous, making her a stalwart figure between the posts.

Flanking Pinkie Pie were the centre-backs: Nightstalker, Iron Hoof, and Solar Blaze, each emanating an aura of formidable strength and expertise. Nightstalker moved with a silent, almost spectral grace, his dark mane fluttering slightly as he surveyed the pitch with keen, calculating eyes. Iron Hoof was the epitome of strength and stability, his muscular build and steely gaze conveying an unyielding resolve. Solar Blaze, with his fiery mane and intense, focused expression, radiated a fierce competitive spirit and leadership that seemed to ignite the air around him.

As Amelia took in the sight of this eclectic defence, a mix of delight and competitive fire lit up her features. The realisation that she was about to compete against some of the best players from another world—players who transformed the concept of football into something magical—was thrilling.

"Next up! Is my midfield, arguably the finest midfield in all of Equestrian history." Discord announced, his voice rich with pride and a hint of challenge. He stood confidently, his eyes gleaming with mischief as he prepared for his dramatic reveal. With a sly smile, he snapped his fingers, a sound that echoed across the field, signalling the arrival of his chosen midfielders.

"Ha! Whoever they are, I bet they aren't even the best midfielders on this pitch." Amelia countered, her voice brimming with bravado. She glanced toward her own midfield trio—Gerrard, Iniesta, and Busquets—who were deep in discussion, their heads bowed together in a huddle of strategic planning. Each player's gestures were precise, their expressions focused and intense, a testament to their legendary status and tactical acumen. Amelia's gaze then snapped back to the tunnel, her eyes narrowing slightly in anticipation and a playful defiance as she awaited the emergence of Discord's celebrated midfield.

The atmosphere around the pitch intensified, a mix of anticipation and competitive spirit filling the air. The crowd, a mixture of intrigued spectators and passionate fans, leaned forward, their attention fixed on the shadowy entrance of the tunnel. The moment stretched, the anticipation building to a crescendo until finally, figures began to emerge from the darkness.

Four of them emerged from the darkness of the tunnel, four of them with there own distinct colours. The first one she noticed was a unicorn with a deep, indigo mane styled with a neat, practical bang and streaks of pink and purple emerges from the tunnel onto the pitch. Her coat is a soft, lavender hue, exuding an aura of calm and intelligence. She is adorned in a lime green jersey, which stands out brightly against her darker tones, emphasising her slender yet sturdy build.

This pony walks with an air of sophistication and confidence, each step measured and graceful. On her face, she sports a pair of smart, rectangular glasses that enhance her thoughtful, analytical gaze. Her eyes, a rich violet, scan the surroundings with keen interest and a clear focus, reflecting a mind always at work, strategising and calculating.

Her overall demeanour is one of poise and assurance, suggesting a leadership quality that is both inspiring and commanding. As she steps onto the grassy pitch, her presence brings a sense of order and readiness, rallying her teammates with her calm yet determined approach.

The next was a sturdy, earth pony that strides onto the pitch with a distinctive cowgirl swagger, embodying the essence of a rustic, hardworking spirit. Her coat is a bright, solid orange, accented with a mane and tail of rich golden blonde that falls in loose, practical waves. The striking contrast between her vibrant fur and the lime green jersey she wears highlights her robust, muscular build, fitting snugly and designed to allow easy movement.

Her confident gait is punctuated by the subtle tilt of her cowboy hat, adding a touch of rural charm to her athletic attire. Her eyes, a deep and honest green, scan the field with determination and a no-nonsense focus, reflecting a practical and down-to-earth nature.

As she walks, there's a certain grounded strength in her steps, each one taken with purpose and an unyielding resolve. Her presence on the field is both reassuring and commanding, suggesting she's a pony who leads by example and isn't afraid to dig in her hooves and get the job done.

A pegasus pony bursts onto the pitch next, his energy that is both infectious and exhilarating. His mane is a vivid tapestry of blond, red, and turquoise, flowing wildly as he moves, perfectly matching the vibrancy of his light yellow fur. His eyes, a bright and captivating turquoise, shimmer with excitement and anticipation.

He's clad in a striking red and blue striped jersey, the bold colours echoing his dynamic and spirited personality. The jersey fits him comfortably, flapping slightly as he flaps his wings in excitement, adding an extra flair to his animated entrance.

His smile is wide and ecstatic, lighting up his face as he strides confidently onto the grassy field. Every step he takes is filled with a palpable eagerness, his posture exuding readiness and an eagerness to engage in the game. This pony’s demeanour is one of pure joy and determination, making it clear he's not just prepared to play but to thoroughly enjoy every moment of the competition.

A pegasus pony with a unique and edgy hairstyle enters the pitch, her mane fashionably shaved on the sides and back, with just a short crop on top dyed a soft light pink. Her spring green fur is bright and fresh, providing a striking contrast to her bold mane. Her eyes, a deep teal, scan the surroundings with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension.

She wears a lime green jersey that blends almost seamlessly with her fur, the uniform snug against her slender frame. As she makes her way onto the field, her movements are hesitant; she occasionally strokes her arm, a gesture that underscores her nervousness.

Despite her shy demeanour, there’s an underlying strength in her gentle steps. She looks around tentatively, her expression one of cautious anticipation, as if she is both intrigued by the prospect of the game and intimidated by the crowd and the noise. Her presence is soft yet compelling, drawing a subtle attention to her delicate yet determined spirit.

Among the players stepping onto the pitch, two figures immediately caught Amelia's attention due to their familiarity. Applejack, known for managing the Toffees, and Twilight Sparkle, at the helm of the Reds, both stood out not only for their roles but for their vibrant youthfulness and matching lime green jerseys. These two ponies weren't just known for their managerial skills; they were celebrated as hoofball prodigies. Amelia's mind drifted to a memory of spotting Applejack and Twilight sharing a warm, friendly exchange before a fiercely contested game, their smiles radiating a long-standing camaraderie that spoke volumes of their deep-rooted friendship.

Then, another figure drew Amelia's gaze—a pegasus mare known as Whisper Wings. Although Amelia had never met her, the name resonated with tales of extraordinary talent and a promising career tragically cut short. Whisper Wings was recognised as the fourth prodigy of hoofball, renowned for her almost phantom-like play style on the field and her exceptional skills as a midfielder. Yet, her promising journey had ended abruptly when a severe ACL injury forced her out of the sport, after which she vanished from the public eye, her whereabouts becoming one of Equestria's lingering mysteries.

Completing the lineup was a player donning a jersey unfamiliar to Amelia, indicating a background outside the scope of her research, which had so far been limited to the history of the Toffee Hoofball Club and their renowned players. This added an element of intrigue and mystery, piquing Amelia's curiosity about the unknown player's origins and skills.

As these figures aligned on the field, each brought a layer of history, talent, and unanswered questions, enriching the tapestry of the upcoming match with their personal stories and legendary statuses. Amelia felt a mix of admiration and a keen desire to learn more about these extraordinary players, especially the enigmatic Whisper Wings, whose brief but brilliant career had left a mark on hoofball history.

Discord, standing proudly before his chosen squad, couldn't resist goading Amelia with his lineup's credentials. "So what do you think? Twilight is my Central Attacking Midfielder, Applejack my Central Defensive Midfielder with Whisper Wings and Ottar as my Central Midfielders. I know you recognise the prodigies, they are famous for their chemistry and link-up play." he explained, his tone slightly boastful as he eyed Amelia, hoping to unnerve her with the caliber of his team.

"Your four to my three, ay?" Amelia retorted, analysing his strategy with a tactical eye. "Sounds like you're trying to outnumber me in the midfield." She noted the formation with interest, a strategic mind working behind her calm demeanour. "But you left your backline as a back three, very risky, Discord. Are you sure you want to play in a 3-4-3 formation? Not a clever idea against my 4-3-3." she challenged, her grin widening as she saw Discord's smirk grow in response.

"You shall see in due time, little one." Discord replied confidently, his voice carrying a mix of challenge and amusement. With another snap of his fingers, he signalled the next phase of his plan.

"Your funeral..." Amelia murmured under her breath, her smirk mirroring Discord's as she turned her attention back to the tunnel. Her eyes narrowed slightly in anticipation, her competitive spirit fuelled by the unfolding challenge. At that moment, two more figures emerged from the tunnel, stepping into the light as the attackers on Discord's team, adding another layer of intrigue and potential threat to the unfolding match. The air buzzed with anticipation, both teams bracing for what was shaping up to be an epic clash on the field.

A dynamic pegasus pony bursts through the tunnel onto the pitch, her presence as striking as her appearance. Her mane and tail are a brilliant spectrum of colours—vivid shades of red, orange, yellow, green, blue, and violet cascade in a flowing, colourful wave, a visual echo of her bold and spirited personality. Her coat is a deep sky blue, providing a stunning backdrop for her rainbow-hued mane.

She's clad in a lime green jersey, which contrasts sharply against her colourful mane and tail, drawing even more attention to her. The jersey fits snugly, accentuating her athletic build and the powerful muscles of her wings. As she walks, her smile is cocky, wide, and confident, perfectly capturing her fearless and competitive nature.

Her entrance is nothing short of show-stopping, with every step exuding confidence and an eagerness to tackle any challenge on the field. Her grin and the glint in her magenta eyes suggest she’s not just ready to play; she’s ready to dominate, bringing an infectious energy that promises both excitement and high action.

Next was a sophisticated pony that gracefully made her entrance onto the pitch, her poise and elegance clear in every step. Her mane, a lustrous purple colour, is styled in voluminous, glamorous waves that cascade beautifully down her neck, catching the light with each majestic flick. Her coat is a pristine, shimmering white, enhancing her natural allure and distinct sense of style.

She wears a lime green jersey, tailored to fit her perfectly, complementing her refined aesthetic while highlighting her slim, elegant figure. As she strides confidently through the tunnel and onto the grass, her movements are deliberate and full of grace, turning the simple act of walking into a display of regality.

Her eyes, a deep and expressive blue, scan the field with a discerning gaze, reflecting both her competitive spirit and her meticulous attention to detail. Her presence on the pitch is both striking and inspiring, blending the world of high fashion with athletic prowess, and making her a memorable figure whose style is as formidable as her gameplay.

These final two ponies completed Discord's formidable lineup: Rainbow Dash and Rarity, an attacking force like no other. Rainbow Dash, known as the top scorer in Toffees' history, held the title of the fastest player in the sport. Her speed and agility on the field were legendary. Rarity, on the other hand, was a master of dribbling, her elegant and precise footwork making her a formidable opponent. Together, they formed a deadly duo that could dismantle any defence.

"Meet my wingers: Rainbow Dash, my right winger, and Rarity, my left winger." Discord announced with a flourish, his voice filled with pride. The two ponies stepped forward, Rainbow Dash with her trademark confident smirk and Rarity with a graceful nod, both exuding an aura of undeniable talent and poise.

Discord wasn't finished. With a snap of his fingers, his Hawaii attire vanished, replaced by a lime green jersey, white shorts, and black boots, mirroring the uniforms of his team. "Last but not least—me! The striker!" Discord proclaimed, striking a pose with his arms crossed, flanked by Rainbow Dash on his right and Rarity on his left.

Amelia couldn't help but let out a chuckle at the sight. "Really, Discord? You're going to lead the attack yourself?" she teased, though she knew better than to underestimate the spirit of chaos. The combination of these renowned players, each with their unique strengths and Discord's unpredictable presence, promised an exhilarating match.

The stage was set, with both teams ready to clash in what was shaping up to be a legendary showdown. Amelia's excitement grew as she took in the scene, her team of legendary footballers facing off against Discord's eclectic mix of Equestrian prodigies and himself. It was a match for the ages, a true blend of worlds and talents, and Amelia was more than ready for the challenge.

“Well, I guess we’re ready to play, huh?” Discord said, his voice tinged with a nervousness that betrayed his bravado. The reality of playing football, a sport that had once broken his chaotic influence, loomed over him, and he couldn’t shake the fear of being swept away by its mysterious power.

“Not quite.” Amelia replied, raising an eyebrow with a playful smirk. “You and I need to give our teams their preferred jerseys.” She paused for effect, enjoying the suspense. “My team will wear Everton’s latest jersey, with me in Everton’s goalie kit.”

As Discord snapped his fingers, Amelia watched in delight as her team’s attire transformed. The iconic blue of Everton's kit replaced their original colors. She couldn't help but laugh as she saw the looks of horror on the faces of Virgil van Dijk and Steven Gerrard. They stared at each other, their expressions of sheer disgust unmistakable as they realized they were donning the jerseys of their historic rivals.

Virgil van Dijk pulled at the fabric, a grimace spreading across his face. “This... this is sacrilege.” he muttered, looking as though he had been asked to commit an unthinkable act.

Gerrard, meanwhile, seemed to be fighting back a gag. “I can’t believe I’m wearing this.” he said, shaking his head in disbelief. His eyes darted to Amelia, who was grinning from ear to ear, clearly reveling in their discomfort. “You’re enjoying this far too much.” he added, trying to muster a smile despite his visible revulsion.

“That’s the only reason I picked you two.” Amelia confessed with a mischievous wink. “Seeing you in Everton’s kit is priceless.”

Discord, meanwhile, had his own task. “Fine, fine. My team will wear the Toffee’s kit.” he declared, snapping his fingers once more. In an instant, only Ottar’s attire changed to a sleek, lime green jersey with white shorts and black boots, matching his own outfit.

With both teams now appropriately dressed, the tension on the field was palpable. The sight of legendary footballers begrudgingly wearing rival colours added a layer of humour to the scene, while the surreal mix of Equestrian and human talent set the stage for an unforgettable match.

Amelia looked across the pitch, her team ready and somewhat reluctantly united under the Everton banner. “Alright, Discord. Let’s see what your team’s got.” she called out, her competitive spirit burning brightly. The game was about to begin, and with it, the merging of two worlds in a clash of skill, strategy, and a touch of chaos.

Here it is, the match of the ages. Equestria’s finest XI vs Earth’s finest XI.

Kick off! - HERE WE GO!