“Devils used to be Gods, Angels that fell from the top
There’s no diversity because we’re burning in the melting pot…
So when the Devil wants to dance with you, you’d better say never
Because a dance with the Devil might last you forever”
~Immortal Technique
“Scootaloo, I’m certain that your impairment is entirely psychological. If you aren’t going to be entirely honest with me, we might never be able to solve this problem.” The unicorn impatiently tapped her pencil on her clipboard. “I know you might be embarrassed or scared, but I need to know in order to help you.” The unicorn tried to come off as sincere but her frustration and impatience became apparent as she was finishing her sentence.
Buulllllllllllllshittttttt. There was a long pause where Scootaloo simply stared at the unicorn while trying her best to convey that there were no fucks to be given. “Lady, I’ve been coming here for two months and I haven’t heard a thing outa your mouth that has even come close to making sense. I’m gonna leave, and don’t expect me to come back for anymore sessions.” Scootaloo got up out of her chair and grabbed her helmet off the hat rack. The psychologist was in shock, althought not because of Scootaloo’s rudeness: She was certain that this type of things wasn’t going to happen to her anymore.
After busting out of the clinic, Scootaloo trotted at a meandering pace, letting ideas bounce around in her head. Oh, it must be you Scootaloo. I mean, you’ve got such pretty wings, why don’t you just fly away with them to where all your other blank flank friends are. Oh, poor thing, I forgot you can’t. Let me take pity on you and make it my lifelong goal to try and make you feel better. It’s ok, some ponies are just not cut out for being normal. Yeeeeaahhhhhhh whatever. Fuck off. Just FUCK OFF.
Scoot looked back at her wings. By pegasus standards they were huge, and by anyone else’s standards they were beautiful. Her feathers were large and layered smoothly on top of one another. They were a light and vibrant orange that caught the sunlight. This was more of a curse to Scootaloo as every remark, complement, and inquiry brought more attention to how she still was unable to fly.
Scootaloo tried to start flapping them, but some sort of tightness came over her body. Her wings singed up tight to her back and she collapsed on her belly in the parking lot. She was unable to breath for a few seconds. Her gracious wings relaxed and fell down to her side. Scootaloo didn’t feel like crying: She felt defeated and morbidly accepted this fate. I don’t think any amount of spunk or attitude is going fix this… After kicking up her motorcycle’s kickstand, Scoot hopped onto the bike and started gunning it home. 40. Dirt roads cascaded across the hilltops in the surrounding area, and they each spit forth a streak of dust as Scoot blazed across them. 50. Scootaloo started to forget why she had been so 60. Forget why she 70 had been. 80. So. 90.
Down.
100.
Scootaloo ripped over the top of a gigantic hill. She could feel the earth turning below her. She began to tilt back and back until she see her shadow. She could see herself falling. Her wings loosened and began to ripple like thin cloth would. The sun had been dimming in the evening sky. Reds and purples scattered across the clouds and reflected off Scootaloo’s wings. I’m falling. Scootaloo’s shadow kept growing in size. Time passed slower. She was going to collide with herself, and her shadow was going to consume her. Time almost stopped. I fell… where had I… when had it… Scoot reached further back and kept reaching, fully infatuated by the deep dark. She suddenly snapped back to reality. Her wings became rigid, and in one mighty flap they brought her and her motorcycle level with the ground. The landing was still rough. The motorcycle swiveled left and right. Scootaloo was unable to regain control and she tumbled over with the bike. Scootaloo violently rolled most of the way down the hill while the bike had its share of tumbles and flips before sliding down on its side. In the end of things, Scoot found herself to be perfectly fine, minus the fact that her feather and fur were thoroughly covered in dirt. The bike had seen worse. Oh by Celestia’s glory we have a fucking miracle. Her thoughts probably weren’t too far off from the truth either.
She trotted over to her bike, nudged it up, and started driving home without making an effort to dust it off. By the time she got home she almost entirely forget about the event. Most of the dust blew off of her while she had been absentmindedly driving, eliminating all physical indications of a crash. Tuning in to the roar of her engine and the smashing of the air, she became at ease again.
Home was a nice little place. Scoot and Sweetie Belle had decided to get it together when they wanted a little more space and wanted to be a little more independent, although it was mostly Sweetie Belle’s idea. She loved her family, but she felt that her parents' and Rarity antics could be a bit much a times. And after all, what was better than getting to live with your best friend anyways? As she was walking inside, Scootaloo paused slightly and thought about how much this little house meant to her.
“Hey Scoot, how’d it go?” Sweetie Belle realized pretty fast that Scoot’s answer was going to be overwhelming negative. “Maybe I can sing you a little something-something to make you feel better?”
“You might be able to cook me something that could make me feel better.” Scoot regretted it as soon as she said it. She had intended it to sound playful but her bitterness dominated her tone. Sweetie Belle shouldn’t have to put up with me… she could buy a bigger house without me anyways. She’s got a cutie mark and a bit-magnet talent to go with it. Scoot looked at Sweetie Bell’s cutie mark she had gotten so many years ago. It was a silver bell with annotated notes weaving off of it. “Hey I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that.”
Sweetie Belle’s anticipatory smile hadn’t changed, and for all Scoot knew she was still waiting for an answer. Scoot let out a sigh. “Sing me a song please, but first, tell me how your performance went.”
“OOOHHH it went so SMOOTH. Everyone was happy and the venue was nice, but everyone was maybe a bit too snobby. Celestia said she was going to come and I think I saw her in one of her trench coat get-ups trying to avoid attention. Well, more importantly, sad pony you need a song.” And with that she let one go.
“Darling, what’s there to see?
the night sky is really quite empty
and If I’m served right in my memory
you like to sit and watch the moon from the ground with me
It’s the love and compassion you give
not the mark that makes the pony
just look on past the twilight and live
and blank flank or not you seem perfect to me.”
Sweetie has one hell of a voice. It was as delicate and clean as the chime of the softest silver. Sweetie Belle's singing softly scrambled Scootaloo’s brainwaves, leaving her thoughtless yet entirely encompassed by her sweet, sweet sound. As Sweetie stopped singing, Scoot fizzled back down from the natural high to her normal self.
“Wowwww thanks for making me feel self-conscious and pitiful,” Scoot said jokingly. She was never the best with sincerity, but Sweetie knew her more than well enough to know that Scoot appreciate little songs like these.
“Awww c’mon, I was just trying to get you to cheer up.“ Sweetie walked over to Scoot’s side.
“Besides, I always thought you looked good with a blank flank.” And with that Sweetie gave her a nice soft kiss where Scoot’s cutie mark was supposed to be. Mmh. Sweetie walked around Scoot and gave her another kiss below the ear. “I love you Scoot.” Sweetie’s voice wasn’t the same as it normally was. She poured every bit of meaning it to what she had said.
A few moments of silenced passed.
“What the fuck is up with you Sweetie Belle” Scoot said playfully, but dryly. She had failed to differentiate between this and the casual, joking affection that the two good friends often shared.
Before this, Sweetie had kept her feelings well hidden from Scootaloo. Her composure started to break and her smile started to quiver. Before long, it turned into an uncontrollable frown. Sweetie had been waiting for the right time, the right moment, but in the heat of it all she perceived the worst. On top of that, she underestimated just how thick Scootaloo could be at times. She was certain that Scootaloo felt nothing short of total disdain for her. Sweetie began to back away. Her eyes and face moved toward the floor, as if by not looking at Scootaloo she could somehow hide away her emotions and shame. Tears were running down her face, tears that she could not stop, but desperately wished she could.
Scoot watched as Sweetie ran out of the room and heard her as she sped up the stairs. Wut. Scoot was dumbfounded. She had initially been curious as to why Sweetie Belle was acting so unSweetieBelle-like, but after watching her break down and run away, Scoot found herself searching in a deeper hole that was void of any answer. She could wail and scream, but only an echo of her question would answer back. The expansiveness of her life experience had now been reduced to the narrowness of one simple question: Is Sweetie ok? Despite Scootaloo’s typically inconsiderate nature, she found herself concerned. They had been best friends for more than ten years… they shared highs and lows together and they tried to find themselves together. Scootaloo and Sweetie had picked each other off the ground when the world seemed like it didn’t have a place for them. They had made that place for each other, and love like that doesn’t leave, it echos out in times of trouble. Scoot felt something heavy settling in her stomach. Is Sweetie ok? She didn’t realized what she was feeling, but it was reverberating deep inside of her. After a few more seconds passed it started to spill out. Is she ok? Scoot was sprinting up the stairs. Sweetie. She burst into Sweetie’s bedroom and could hear her crying in the darkness. She flipped the lights on and Sweetie was there on her bed with blankets pulled over her. Scoot bit the blankets and dragged them down and off of Sweetie’s face. She wouldn’t look at her. Scootaloo placed her head down on the bed at eye level with Sweetie. Her eyes were glistening with tears. Sweetie tried to pull the covers back over her head, but Scootaloo gently stopped her. “Sweetie, what’s that matter?” She rolled to the other side away from Scootaloo. Every cry and sob resulted in a stabbing sensation in Scootaloo’s gut. What if…
She had a moment of clarity, and the whole of the situation gradually began to dawn on her. I love you Scoot. Scootaloo’s breathing got heavier. I love you Scoot. All of the sudden a thousand questions frantically erupted in her head. Do I have feelings for Sweetie Belle? Does it matter that we are both girls? What does she see in me? What happens if I tell her I don’t love her? What should I do what the fuck should I do?
Scootaloo started to break down. She knew she wanted to help Sweetie but she couldn’t do it until she decided on who she was. The only problem was that at the moment she wasn’t able to. Scootaloo was hurting but she was incapable of remaining inactive in face of Sweetie Belle's plight. Words just started pouring out of her mouth. “Sweetie I didn’t mean it like what I said.” She wasn’t making sense. “I didn’t know, you weren’t being you and I didn’t understand what was going on. I never thought about these things before and I don’t know. I was only joking I want you to be ok I want you to be alright.”
“Scootaloo you don’t have to apologize.” Her crying was almost under control and had reduced to soft sobs. “I’m just being a dumb mare.”
“Hey, don’t say that.” Scoot's emotionally agitated state caused her voice to flutter. More than anything Scoot wanted this to end well. She climbed onto the bed and laid as close as she could to Sweetie Belle. “I’m sorry. I’m just flustered, that’s all.”
The way Sweetie Belle perceived it, Scootaloo was trying to let her down as gently as possible. Sweetiebell began to feel ashamed. She saw how Scootaloo was trying so hard to fix an incorrigible situation that she herself was responsible for. She had let her emotions strain their friendship. She was being unreasonable. How could she expect Scootaloo to love her? “You don’t have to pretend to be anything for me Scoot… I’m an idiot.”
“Don’t talk that way,” Scoot pleaded. “Who was the one that just sang me a song about just being myself? There is nothing wrong with the way you are.” You are beautiful.
Sweetie felt like she was being pitied again, and her crying picked up. Stricken with panic at Sweetie Belle’s worsening condition, Scootaloo tried her best to sing. “We are the cutie mark crusaders.” Scootaloo’s voice crackled, but she kept singing until Sweetie Belle stopped crying and fell into a deep sleep. Her breaths were deep, but quiet.
________________________________________________________________________________________________
“Hello?”
“Is that you Applebloom?”
“Who is th… Scootaloo, that you?”
“Yeah.”
“Well why are ya callin’ so late at night?”
“I need you to do me a favor. This is really important to me.”
“Is it an emergency?”
“Kind of, Sweetiebell isn’t doing so well right now. I made her really upset and I need you to come over and stay the night and keep an eye on her.”
“How bad is she? Is she gonna be ok?”
“She’s going to be all right, but I need to go somewhere, and I don’t want to leave her by herself. She needs a friend right now.”
“…”
“…”
“Ok, I’ll be right there.”
“Thank you.”
_________________________________________________________________________________________________
Rainbow Dash had come along in years. She was legendary. The feats she had performed were surreal. Now that she felt her service to Equestria had been paid time and time again she let herself fall into a time of quiet introspection. It was just her and a few friends. Leave the problems for a younger generation to solve. She had given up her obsession with the Wonderbolts, she outclassed them after all, but more importantly she had abandoned her childishness. She never gave up her drive to be the best though. Rainbow had peaked a little while back and now was on a gentle decline, but she still trained everyday to slow the decay and to prevent the inevitable.
Scootaloo was riding up a rocky mountain trail. She needed to speak with Rainbow Dash, but she wasn’t exactly the easiest to find anymore. Her high beams illuminated the mountainside air and the bright blotches could be seen from miles away. Aside from where her lights shined, there was almost total darkness. Looking up, Scootaloo thought she could see where the tip of the mountain pierced the clouds. Scootaloo had been driving up the side of the mountain for over an hour now, not having slept since leaving Sweetie at their home. The trail suddenly jutted left, and without having time to turn, she dropped her and her bike to the side and skidded to a stop, narrowly avoided falling off the abrupt edge. Her hind left leg was scraped and bleeding and her motorcycle was scratched to all hell. I’m sorry bud, I don’t mean to be so mean to you, so just bare with me. She wasn’t even shaken by her near-fall. In all actuality she was more relaxed than she had been before. All of her worries had escaped her for that split second. She clambered back on her bike and kept trudging her way up the mountain.
When she finally made it to the top it was 4:00 AM. It wasn’t till an hour later when Rainbow Dash flew up to the same spot in order to start her morning training. She was surprised to find Scootaloo half asleep and half mounted on her bike. “Scootaloo, what are you doing up here?”
“Wa… huh?” Scootaloo proceeded to fall off her bike in the most uncharacteristic way possible. She recovered as quickly as she could. “Rainbow Dash, I need to ask you a question.” Rainbow Dash dropped to the ground and took a seat on her rear and gave Scootaloo a nod as a go-ahead to ask her question.
Scootaloo’s face started glowing bright red out of embarrassment for what she was going to say. She choked on the words as she tried to get them out.
“Scoot, I’m gonna start flying soon if you don’t ask.”
Scootaloo closed her eyes. “IS IT OK IF I LIKE SWEETIEBELLE.” She practically screamed it.
Rainbow Dash thought to herself, “Oh dear Celestia.” She didn’t think that Scootaloo was aware of her preferences, and thinking back to her early years, Rainbow Dash certainly didn’t feel like the role model Scootaloo should be consulting. “Why… why are you asking me this?”
Scootaloo had to think to herself for a second. “Well, it’s just, you have always been somepony I looked up to, and what you say will always mean a lot to me. You were the closest thing I ever had to a big sister. You’ve shown me how to live, and you’ve been everything I want to be for as long as I can remember.”
“Scootaloo, I use to have heroes too, and you learn to stop crutching yourself on them. I have never been that perfect of a pony.” Rainbow Dash regretted creating a false impression on Scootaloo, this idea she was something worthy of worship.
“You can pretend like you are an awful pony but I'm not gonna buy that for a freakin' second.”
Scootaloo stared desperately into the jaded crimson. I don’t care if you aren’t perfect. You are my hero and always will be.
Rainbow took a deep breath. “Scootaloo, love can be beautiful no matter what it is, or who it is between, but it is up to you to make it beautiful.”