Equestriabound Zero
Chapter 2
On the other side of the door she found…
…an empty room. There was no sign of Timmy anywhere. She eyed the lamps in the room with complete suspicion. Only another tremor with yet another fluctuation in the lighting showed her any sign that anything was wrong.
She didn’t make a habit of going into her brother’s room, but she noted that there was a cardboard box as well as a collection of old toys she didn’t remember seeing in there before, next to the plastic toolbox full of small tools. The tools she remembered that their father had bought those for Timmy, but the toys included ancient, moth-eaten teddy bears and dust covered ponies made of tin.
As Scootaloo searched the room, she felt herself step on and knocked with her hoof. She looked over her should, only to find that she had kicked it out of the room and out of view.
Peering outside, she discovered that it was one of Timmy’s tiny screwdrivers.
Timmy freaks over anypony else touching these…why was one on the floor, so far away from his desk?
“Timmy!?” Scootaloo called out in a worried voice
If there was an answer, she certainly didn’t hear it.
“Timmy!?” She called out mentally. For some reason, while Timmy wasn’t able to answer her in a like fashion, he could hear her telepathy. He seemed to be the exception to the rule, or maybe he had powers too, but was too little to speak with them? Still, maybe he could hear her…
She concentrated and tried to listen for Timmy’s mind, but her telepathic range was very short. She got tired of straining her mind before she even explored half the room, and she cursed her power for being so tricky to use.
“Timmy, this isn’t funny!” She called out again in normal speech.
She looked under the bed, but there was no Timmy. All she saw was a lumpy shade that she identified as…wait.
Oh my gosh, is this what I think it is?
Scootaloo pulled out the glassy eyed baby doll from under the bed, her mouth agape. And then she formed in her mind an image of her brattiest brother gently rocking the plastic filly to sleep and changing its diaper…and it was too much for her.
“…Psssstt…ssstt....Hahahaha!” Scootaloo broke down laughing. She rolled around on the floor giggling, dropping the doll as she went. “Oh wow, first he never wants me around because of my ‘girl germs’, and then I find out he was playing with stuff like this and was already so infected he had nothing to worry about! AHAHAHAHA!” wiping a tear from her eye, she wound down her laughing fit. “Oh…I needed that.”
A loud, but muffled sound came from the closet.
Scootaloo got up and cantered over, pulling the closet open. Tied and gagged with an assortment of clothes inside the closet was a gray and blue colt that was nearly identical to Tin Tailor, except for the ring of brown fur around his neck. Well, that and the magnifying glass forming an “X” with a screw driver emblazoned on his flank. He was the only child of the family who had obtained his cutie mark, and loved showing it off, especially to Scootaloo.
“Timmy?” Scootaloo addressed Timber Torret, her other brother and Tin Tailor’s twin. The colt only answer with more muffled yelling. She pulled the gag out of his mouth, which turned out to be a long stocking. She held it in both hooves, staring at it for a moment.
I have no idea why Mom likes buying these things for us…Well, at least it’s not more *shudder* dresses…
“LOOK OUT, YOU DUMMY!” Timmy yelled, breaking Scootaloo out of her reverie.
Scootaloo didn’t even have time to register before the sleeves of one of Timmy’s small, small, tiny dress shirts caught her by the fore legs, making her put it on backwards, and what should’ve been the front of the shirt wrapped around her wings and back and started squeezing her to try and force the buttons to fit.
“Ah! Too tight! TOO TIGHT!” Scootaloo yiped.
Just then, Scootaloo heard a giggle come from behind. Through having the life squeezed out of her, she looked over her should to see the baby doll floating in the air behind her. She instinctively tried to turn around, only to forget about her sudden lack of mobility and trip over her own hooves.
“Idiot.” Timmy grumbled as he rolled his eyes.
Scootaloo grunted, and spread out her wings to try to force some leverage to get the shirt off of her. She pulled her legs apart, and the shirt couldn’t take the strain and tore apart.
“Aha! You can’t get me that easily, you stupid doll! Don’t worry, Timmy, you big sister has everything under-MMMPH! Scootaloo’s attempts to reassure her brother were cut off as a baby bottle shoved into her face. While Scootaloo was stunned, the doll’s telekinesis moved the bottle back and forth in her mouth. She hear the doll’s ghostly giggling again. Scootaloo tried to swerve her head away from the baby bottle’s nipple, but the doll used its powers to force it back in and get her to “drink.”
…It wasn’t like that was even an option, of course. The white non-milk in the bottle (whatever horribly toxic chemical it was in reality, Scootaloo didn’t know. She wasn’t an expert on toys from bygone decades) wasn’t designed to be accessible through its nuzzle. The nuzzle didn’t taste very good, however.
“I’m doomed.” Timmy sighed. Then he took a deep breath and yelled at top of his lungs! “MOOOOOM! HEEELLLPP!”
“Piilaaahhh!” Scootaloo spat out the babyish accessory. “Ugh…this is not a good day.” Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the bottle rising up to “feed” her again, and she sent it across the room with a quick kick. Another fit of ghostly laughter came from the doll. Furious at her humiliation, Scootaloo turned her attention back to the source of the giggling and her voice made it clear just how funny she was finding the situation. “YOU STUPID DOLL! I’VE HAD ENOUGH OF YOUR…stupid….tricks?” trailed off as she was too busy being terrified by the doll’s newest plans for her to worry about things like keeping a consistent angry tone in her speech.
A swarm of girly apparel, approximating to a size that would fit Scootaloo much better than any of her brother’s clothes, floated into the room. Scootaloo gaped, as a number of her worst and frilliest childhood memories floated in the air. Each dress representing several torturous centuries (or it seemed like centuries to Scootaloo) in the store with her mother gushing over her. She would’ve buried them so deep in her closet as to fade from existence…but ponies don’t keep that many clothes to begin with…
Sweating bullets, Scootaloo bit down firmly on the handle of her bat, and braced herself for the coming battle. Alright, bat. It’s just you and me against the forces of absolute evil. And worse, frills. Scootaloo crouched, and got herself ready to pounce through the dresses and onto the doll.
Her bravado faltered, however, when the doll brought more things into the room. Combs, curlers, a brush, a file, and a case full of unspeakably horrible things that belonged to her mother.
Scootaloo looked around at the very crowded room, being surrounded on all sides by enemies and had to admit she was feeling just a little overwhelmed by it all. She grit her teeth and looked at the doll, its glassy eyes staring into her soul, plastic mouth frozen in an “o”, which was mean for the doll to suck on the bottle’s tip, but it seemed to Scootaloo at the moment that it was giving a refined, aristocratic “Oh-ho-ho-ho” laugh.
As Scootaloo and the various girly objects had their face off, the house had more tremors and power fluctuations, the only sign that time was passing.
Cold sweat broke slithered down Scootaloo’s coat.
Another chilling giggle rang through the air.
Timber Torret had stopped calling for motherly backup to watch the spectacle, and swallowed a lump in his throat.
Scoots took half a step back…and all heck broke loose.
All the things attacked Scootaloo at once! Scootaloo screamed and swung her bat wildly, and she could’ve sworn she hit some of the more rigid objects, but the dresses simply swayed in the air and some of them wrapped around the bat and pulled it out her hooves. She boxed and bucked and squirmed, but she couldn’t stop a white petticoat skirt from slipping over her head and onto her, Scootaloo tried to pull it off, but was then buffeted by a powderpuff to her face. Scootaloo spat and whined “Hey, quit it! I can’t see!” It did not stop, but rather picked up in speed and sent Scootaloo tripping backwards in a coughing fit, desperate to get the powder out of her throat.
Before she could recover, she started giggling and flailing her limbs around as something cold and wet (which she was positive she had no idea what it actually was) was tickling her hind legs and hooves. “Oh no-hohohoho! STHAAAP! AHAHAHA!” She pleaded as she realized a puffy dark blue dress had caught her forelegs in the perfect position to fit in the sleeves and then the powder puff was buffeting her face and blinded her again, but she could feel several wet things moving across her face in several places. Scootaloo tried to move her head, but they simply chased her and renewed their work.
And it was about that moment that the pain started.
“YEEOWCH! Hey! That hurts!” Scootaloo yelped as something pulled forcefully at her mane. Then another painful pull in her tail, as the comb caught on her many tangles and knots. She renewed her struggle under the weight of this new torture, only for the combing to speed up, and several pulls to happen in succession, pulling some of her hair out every other stroke. She eventually rolled away and brought herself to stand.
As Scootaloo growled at the doll, a mirror rose up, interposition itself between her and the doll, and when the filly saw her reflection, she gasped.
At first, Scoots thought she was seeing some kind of ghost or demon, but then she realized it was her. Her face was caked in powder, making her a much paler shade of orange, but she also had been painted with rouge and lip stick, a scribble all over her face very much like a toddler’s drawing. Her eyelashes were so heavy that looked ridiculous.
But the worse was her mane. Despite the doll not liking her hairstyle, it had managed to make Scootaloo’s mane even more wild and frayed than ever. Locks of hair pointed in every direction, making Scootaloo’s mane look like a purple hedgehog that had been electrocuted…then exploded….twice.
“Wha...What have you done to me!?” Scootaloo said in shock. “Timmy! Don’t look! Aw man, I’m never going to live this down....Timmy?”
She looked over her left shoulder and noticed the closet was empty.
“I’m over here, dummy!” a voice came from her right. She turned to see her brother had been pulled out of the closet and was wearing a yellow party dress (although his forelegs didn’t exit the sleeves as they were still bound to his body), some more combs were pulling at his hair and scissors snipping it off.
“OW! Stop it! You don’t know what you’re doing! Scootaloo! Stop daydreaming! You should have untied me! I thought you came to save me or something! YOU might want to play girly games with her, but I am NOT going to sit here while you lie down and let her make me bald! So get off your stupid butt and SAVE M-MMF!” Timmy’s tirade was cut short as the bottle was shoved into his mouth. Another ghostly giggle came from the doll.
Timmy made several attempts to spit out the bottle, but it simply levitated and shoved not merely its nipple, but its entire frame halfway into his mouth. He looked at Scootaloo, tears starting to leak out of his eyes as more hair was cut from his mane. Scootaloo, incensed at her brother’s pain, spread out her wings, but Timmy rose a hoof and shook his head. Wearing a pained expression, he pointed his head towards the doll and jerked towards it.
She was completely ready to snatch the scissors.
Then, his mind echoed words into hers. “Attack while it’s distracted?”[/color]
“Yes!” Timmy’s mind hissed back.
“But I can get it off of you!” Scootaloo retorted.
“NOW! This is your chance!” Timmy mentally screamed with all the urgency he could muster.
Scootaloo didn’t hesitate a second longer. She ran from under the comb, which continued to groom the air in her absence, and launched an aerial tackle and knocked the doll into the wall of the room and collapsed into a pile of clothes, disappearing from view. As Scootaloo returned to the floor, she heard the clumping and clattering of several objects falling to the ground. She noticed her bat, which was now accessible from her new position, and seized it in her hooves.
That was when the doll reached a plastic foreleg up out of the clothes pile. Scootaloo’s wings buzzed like a motor, propelling herself towards the clump of clothes, raising the bat above her head, determined to bring an end to this fight, before the doll escaped! With a mighty neigh of “SMAAAAAAASH!!” she brought the bat down...
….just a second after the doll had returned to the air, and swerved out the way to dodge the incoming weapon.
“Darnnit! Timmy, I’ll stay behind! Worm your way out of here! Go to Tinny’s room and tell him to let you in!” She ordered. Moments passed without Timmy giving an answer. “Huh?” Scootaloo turned and found that her brother had disappeared.
“Um….” Spoke Timmy’s sheepish voice from outside the room. “I kinda already did? Thanks?”
“You sneaky little deserter!” the shock was obvious in Scootaloo’s voice. “What am I to you, anyway?”
Timmy’s face came into view as he bought his head peered around the corner. “Never mind that, get your own stupid flank out of there, now!”
And that was when the door slammed shut, and locked itself. It was faint and barely audible through both the thick door and the gasp escaping her lips, but Scootaloo could Timmy’s voice calling her name on the other side.
The trapped filly turned to watch the doll raise its plastic forelegs above its head. The dresses and hair products levitated into the air, and as they went up, the curtains around Timmy’s windows went down and darkened the room. Scootaloo felt her heart begin to race, finding the doll even more frightening in the dark. It was still bright enough for her to make out the doll as it closed its plastic mouth and broke out into a toothy grin, very similar to the ghostly grin on the surface of the killer lamps.
Upon the appearance of the grin, echoes from an eerie, babyish voice suddenly filled Scootaloo’s mind. “Pwetty…pwetty… pwetty fiwwy...”
“Scootaloo! Get out of there!” Timmy’s voice called from worlds away on the other side of the door.
The doll giggled once more, confident it had cornered her.
Scootaloo steadied herself. No…this is fine. I wanted him to go, and now I don’t have to worry about getting him to safety.
The doll sent its implements of beautification to surround Scootaloo again, preparing a repeat of the attack that had captured the filly before.
Scootaloo held her ground, rearing up with the bat in her hooves, wings flapping gently to help her keep balance. She kept her breathing steady as the clothes closed in around her. Slowly…dangerously…
“I Make oo…da Pwettiest. Fiwwy. Evew.” The voice spoke again, as the grin on the doll grew even wider.
Stay focused, Scootaloo. You ended on a cool note with Timmy, despite everything. You can’t blow this by panicking again. Just ask yourself: “What would Daring do?”
Scootaloo surveyed the ranks of her enemies. Coming at the tomboyish filly from every direction were long dresses spread out like nets so as to entangle her, and one of them was orbited by a compacts of mascara and blush, one by tubes of lipstick, one by Brushes and combs of all sorts of sizes, and also…
A roguish smirk crept over Scootaloo’s face.
Apparently noticing her prey’s bravado, the doll’s ‘grin’ straightened by just a few degrees.
The effect of what the young heroine said then should have been lost, since she was wearing an adorable puffy dress and ridiculous makeup…and had a bat in her mouth. But that’s just what happens when your determination is true and your tough-as-nails action hero line comes straight from the heart:
“I don’t do pretty,” Scootaloo declared in a confident, challenging voice. “I do Daring.”
And that was the doll psychically commanded its forces to swoop down as one and recapture its toy!
Rising with the battle cry that escaped from her lungs, Scootaloo leapt into the tight, almost impenetrable formation of frilly, frilly doom.
‘Almost’ being the operative word.
One of the ‘nets’ the doll had set out to fill up the space was Timmy’s dress shirt from before, surrounded by a single pair of scissors. As she leapt through the wall, she madea precise swing of her baseball bat, knocking both objects down to the floor as the other objects ‘captured’ the empty air where she had just been standing.
(Moments ago, when Scootaloo had been sizing up the trap, she recalled an event from the book Twist had lent her. An event where Daring Do had escaped from several large jungle cats by leaping over one of the cats which was….not so large.)
Having just pulled off her own ‘Daring’ escape, Scoots found she had landed just within striking range of the doll, which had ventured too close, caught up in the moment of capturing its prey.
“YAAAH!” Scootaloo swung her bat upwards, connected with the renegade plaything and sent it flying, its grin falling as it let out a ghostly cry of dismay. Along with the doll’s shriek, Scoots’ sense were also momentarily assailed by the shockwaves of another psychic tremor running through the house, accompanied by the briefest flash of light. This one was briefer than the others, seeming to accompany the fraction of a second that Scootaloo made her clean hit upon the doll. And then another flash tremor occurred when the toy crashed into the wall and landed on the floor next to Timmy’s bed.
Scootaloo did not allow this to distract her. In fact, she didn’t even take the time to notice. Biting down on her bat, she dropped to her hooves and chased after the doll. Seeing the enraged filly approach, the possessed doll used its telekinesis to throw pillow, action figures, clothes and any appliance that was handy at Scootaloo. With flicks of her head, and leaping of her hooves, Scootaloo swung her bat as she pounced across the room.
One, two! One, two! And through and through! The baseball bat went “snicker-snack!” …and “crack!”, “baff!”, “shatter!”, and a number of other sound effects as she knocked away projectiles she couldn’t identify. (later, she would wonder exactly what on earth made that snicker-snack noise) The doll lifted itself unsteadily into air all the way up to the ceiling and attempting to retreat across the bed.
“No you don’t! BABY NEEDS A TIME OUT!” Scootaloo cried. She leapt up onto the bed, bounced off of it, and twirled in the air, bat still in her teeth. She caught the doll completely off guard as the bat slammed into it.
And Scootaloo’s world exploded.
“WAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!!!” The voice from before emitted a horrible cross between a scream and a wail in conjunction with the largest psychic shockwave yet. This latest, largest sensation that rang through the house wasn’t so much of a tremor as it was a series of thunderclaps the psychically sensitive filly was at the epicenter at. The lamps and other lighting devices throughout the room, and indeed the house at large, blinked between on and off in quick succession in time with the great shockwave. The house’s beams rattled and its foundations shook. Noise. Noise everywhere.
Scootaloo, who had been falling during this massive sensory overload, landed down on the bed with an “Oomph!” In the confusion, she had landed very nearly headfirst, so it took her a moment to figure out which way was up. When she righted herself and stood up again, the light show had ended and the entire room was eerily quiet. Even Timmy was not banging on the door right at the moment.
Her first sensible thoughts were of the doll, but a quick glance around the room couldn’t find it in the shade. Careful not to turn her back on the rest of the room for any longer than necessary, she raised the curtains and let in the sunlight, brightening the room by a considerable degree.
There was still no sign of the doll…
Scootaloo didn’t like that she couldn’t see the doll.
She cantered over to the bottom end of the bed to get a closer look…
“GAAAH!” Scootaloo nearly fell off the bottom end of the bed, as the fight, and her absolutely grandiose landing in particular, had moved the mattress forward, partially falling off the bed. Scootaloo rescued herself with a quick hover and flew down to the floor.
Now on the floor, she had a good view of the gigantic mess the doll had made of the place. Clothes… Hair trimmings…Make up… “Oh! So that’s what made the snicker-snack sound!”… Scootaloo tried not to think about what her parents would say if they saw this, and went back to looking for the doll.
But she still couldn’t find the doll.
She turned just a few degrees to her left….
..and let out a yelp when her hind fetlock touched something cold and smooth at the exact time that a loud, crunching, noise echoed in her eardrums. Frightened by this, she leap back, crouching into a little ball as she looked at what she had touched.
Looking back, gripping the bat even harder than before, the first thing she registered was that she had indeed found the doll. It lay in a heap, its stomach torn open and revealing a collection of gears. It also had a very nice dent in its head, which Scootaloo felt a spark of pride over; even though she still wasn't entirely certain if the toy was "dead" or not.
The next she noticed was another loud crunch, accompanied closely by the clang of the doorknob falling off. She turned to face the door, and saw Timber Torret, now out of his dress and bindings, push the door open, screwdriver in his mouth.
It was just then that Scootaloo realized she was trembling slightly, which the wavering bat she was holding up was giving away. That and she was on the floor in a very unheroic-looking position. And still looking ridiculous in her makeup and dress.
“Scootaloo!” Timmy spat out his screwdriver and galloped over to hug her.
“T-timmy! Get back! The doll’s right over there!” She called.
Timmy looked over his shoulder at the doll on the floor.
“Timmy!? Run!” Scootaloo ordered. But even as she did, she had to admit that the enemy seemed very, very motionless. After a few moments passed, as Timmy continued to study the doll.
“I was right. I had to get in the room to make sure you were okay, but…I was right.” Then he returned to looking at her, smiling. “Everything’s okay now, Scoots.”
“What are you talking about!? Its evil! Get away fro-Eeek!” Scootaloo squeaked in the middle of her tirade as Timmy ventured to prod the doll with his hoof. “Timmy! Stop touching it!” Scootaloo waved her bat in the air, acting as if she was watching Timmy cuddle a gigantic cockroach.
“I went into Mom and Dad’s room to search for something to free you, and I got attacked by a suitcase or something…When that big crazy shockwave happened, the suitcase stopped attacking me, and everything was calm!”
Scootaloo stared at Timmy. Then at the doll, which continued to lay there, “dead.” “So…it’s over?”
“Yes! I think we’ve been saved!” Timmy exclaimed, smiling broadly.
When I struck the doll, and the world exploded…was that me stopping everything and saving everypony? Scootaloo pondered. Then she realized something.
“Wait a minute…I told you to go to Tinny’s room!” Scootaloo admonished, crossing her forelegs and giving her little brother what she hoped was that same stern look her mother used on her so often.
“Scoots…I couldn’t leave you like that! I ran away like a coward just as you were offering to sacrifice yourself and it was the worst feeling ever! I had to make it up to you! I couldn’t let that doll make you bald! I wanted to help you! I was so scared when I found that the door was locked, and I felt stupid when I looked everywhere for something to break the lock and I felt so stupid that I missed my screwdriver being RIGHT THERE!!” Timmy’s excited expression faltered completely as he spoke and he ended this most recent outburst with a small hiccupping sound.
Scootaloo softened her expression and uncrossed her forelegs to pat her little brother on the back. “Hey…I’m sorry. It’s cool that you were trying to help. But I just wanted to make sure you were safe. I wanted you to go, and if you had waited for me, the doll might’ve slammed the door on you and trapped you, too! Look, I’m okay, so it turned out alright in the end.”
“Y-yeah. You’re right Scootaloo. You were saved. We were all saved. And not only were we saved, but we were saved by a magnificent hero! No, an amazing hero! Neigh. A SPECTACULAR hero!”
Scootaloo blushed, brushing the back of the purple twice-exploded hedgehog that was her mane. “D’aww…stop it, Tim. I know I’m cool and all, but you’re piling in on too much”
“And that hero is….ME!” Timmy declared with a cocky grin.
“Its not that I don’t appreciate it and all…wait….WHAT!?” Scootaloo cried in disbelief.
“It’s true! That suitcase was behind it all! I fought back and defeated it and saved us all!” Timmy gloated.
“What. How. W…WHAT!?” Scoots spoke in complete sentences.
“I kicked it in the zipper! That’s its weak point” Timmy grinned.
“….” Scootaloo couldn’t find the words. But, I thought maybe now you would finally look up me… She looked back at the doll she won such a hard-fought victory over.
Timmy hugged her again. “Shh…it’s alright now. You…” Scootaloo heard him give a little sniffle. “..you don’t have to be scared anymore.”
“mmmmmmm…..” Scootaloo groaned with a stifled look on her face.
But somehow, there in the room with the shafts of sunlight pouring through the windows, with Timmy being less and less able to hide the happy tears he was shedding for “saving” her, and the fact that she was feeling too tired from fighting for the past half hour straight to get mad or anything…she decided to simply return the hug.
She didn’t even bother to sigh first.
A few moments later, Timber and Scootaloo had broken apart and were looking kind of awkwardly away from each other. Scootaloo in particular was leaning up against the wall, trying to look “cool.” (Which, in her current attire, was hilariously doomed to failure)
“…We shouldn’t tell anypony we had that moment together, should we?” Timmy asked.
“I won’t tell anypony if you won’t.” Scootaloo said.
Timmy nodded in return. Then a smile crept across his face. “So. I noticed you haven’t taken it off yet.”
It took Scootaloo a few minutes to register what he was talking about. Then she got it, and her eyes widened to the size of dinner plates.
Timmy chortled and the chortle turned into a fit of uncontrollable laughter. “Ahahaha! Your face! With that makeup, you like ridiculous! Hahaha!”
“IT’S NOT LIKE I HAD A CHOICE, YOU DWEEB!” Scootaloo fumed.
“Yeah, yeah…but seriously, whenever Mom makes you wear a dress, you always throw it off as soon as you get home nowadays. So, since you haven’t done that yet…” Timmy brought his face in closer to Scoots. “Do you like wearing them again now?”
Scootaloo growled, and tried to take the dress off before she remembered which dress this was. “Arg! I can’t take it off without Mom’s help! It’s that one with the really stubborn unreachable zipper in back!” Scootaloo kept trying to got to the spot she couldn’t reach until she fell over unto the floor, which caused Timmy to laugh even more hysterically. “Ugh! It also makes me look like such a girl!”
“But, you ARE a girl. I mean, I think, anyway.” Timmy mused.
Scootaloo frowned, but the expression gave way to a smirk of her own. “Says the boy who plays with dolls.”
Timmy gaped at his sister, which meant it was Scootaloo’s turn to laugh. “I wasn’t playing with it! I was fixing it!”
Scootaloo ceased rolling on the floor long enough to ask “Huh? ‘Fixing’ it?”
“Yeah. Some of us discovered our special talent.” Timmy said with a grin. He bounced in place with his hind legs so as to show off the cutie mark on his flank. When Scootaloo didn’t seem amused, he stopped and continued with his explanation. “Well, you know mine is fixing and tinkering with old gadgets. It actually how I got the idea to puzzle out how the lock to my room worked so I could break it…”
“Yeah, Mom’s going to kill you for that.” Scootaloo commented.
Timmy ignored her. “Anyway, Dad said I should practice my special talent more, and he remembered this box of old toys from the attic. Its mostly wind-up toys” Timmy pointed at the tin ponies in the box on his desk. Then he cantered over to the doll and picked it up, searching through the rubble for a bit and pulled out a plastic cover, which still fit over the hole in the doll’s chest. “But what was really neat was the fact that the baby doll had a music box hidden inside!”
Scootaloo gave a skeptical look at Timmy, but she had to admit that those gears in the doll confused her too. “So…did you ever get it to work?”
“No…” Timmy sighed. “It attacked me before I could fix it. But, I think it’s a music box.” He opened the doll, and looked at the gears inside. “I couldn’t find the key to turn it, but I can improvise using-” He looked around, and with an “Ah-ha!” he picked his discarded screwdriver off the floor. “-THIS screwdriver instead.” Timmy inserted the screwdriver in a slot in the machinery, and turned it with his mouth. “….It turns, but nothing happens, and I can’t figure out why. You’ve probably broken it anyway.”
“Hey…let me try.” Scootaloo interjected, taking the doll, screwdriver still stuck in it, from Timmy.
“Hey! Stop! You’re getting your germs all over my tools!” Timmy fruitlessly tried to snatch the doll back from Scootaloo, but she brushed him off and kept turning the screwdriver. “Gimme that back!” in his frustration, Timmy shoved Scootaloo, causing her to drop everything.
Time slowed and the children gasped as they watched doll fell to the floor.
It landed.
And the gears sprung to life.
The sound that followed had a similar overpowering effect on Scootaloo’s psychic senses as when she defeated the doll, but this one was very brief. It was a sound she heard with her normal ears, but something about made all of her brain involuntarily sit up at attention and record. It had a reverberating effect on her mind.
It was almost a nostalgic feeling, but Scootaloo had never heard it before. It echoed through her very soul.
It was a melody.
There was something enchanting about it. Something very special. Scootaloo found herself eagerly awaiting for the music box to play the rest of the song…
Which was a problem, as the music was over, and the magic with it.
Scootaloo returned back to reality when she realized the music had stopped abruptly.
“It worked! You got it to finally work!” Timmy laughed. Then he looked disappointed. “It only played some of the song, though….”
“Yeah…” Scootaloo said dumbly. “Hey…think we can fix that and hear the rest of that song?”
“Um…sure, I guess. Just let me look at…” Timmy was cut off as Scootaloo snatched the doll again. “…it?” Timmy finished. Scootaloo began turning the impromptu “key”, and wrestling with it when it refused to turn anymore. Then she was wrestling with Timmy as the colt tried to more aggressively seize it from her. “Hey! Stop! You big dummy, you’re going to break it like that! What’s gotten into you, anyway!?”
(“Kids? Kids!? Please tell me you’re alright! Oh…somepony please say something!” some background voice called, accompanied by the distant and mostly ignored sound of hoofsteps trotting up the stairs.)
“I don’t even know!” Scootaloo rose the doll above her head, out of Timmy’s reach. “I just really need to hear that song, okay? I can’t explain it, but I think it’s really important that I listen to rest of it!” she managed to push her brother away with one hoof, balancing the doll precariously on the other one.
(“Mommy?” more background noise came. There was also the sound of a door opening and a lot of sobbing.)
Timmy leapt up and tried to climb Scootaloo to get to the doll. Scootaloo was unable to support the weight and toppled over, dropping the doll and landing right on top of the powder puff, created a cloud of white dust which covered both of them, and send them both into coughing fits.
The doll landed, screwdriver first, and several springs and other parts were wrenched free of the doll.
If they weren’t so busy coughing, the two foals would’ve probably argued some more but the sudden noise had called the attention of the ponies outside the room. A very, very damp Dizzy Twister barged in, Tin Tailor peering out from around her, soaked slightly in the front of his body and in a ring around his middle. Both of them gaped at the trashed room, and the two foals that inhabited it.
Tinny covered him mouth to try and hide his giggling when he saw Scoots in her outfit, which humiliated her.
“M-mom! Tinny! *cough cough* Don’t look at me!-*cough*” Scootaloo cried through a coughing fit that hadn’t quite died down yet. She adverted her eyes, but that just caused her to look in horror at the giant mess she had made. “Ah! Oh, this isn’t what it looks like! You gotta believe me! They’re gone now *cough* but the house went crazy and random stuff seriously turned into monsters and…” Scootaloo trailed off as she noticed that Dizzy Twister was crying.
The pegasus mare cantered over to Timmy and Scootaloo, pulling both of them in a hug. “Shh-shh…its alright. I know, baby. I know. I’m just glad to see both of you are okay.” She released them and looked them over. “Are either of you hurt? Oh, Scootaloo, your mane…” She gasped. “Timmy, your mane!”
“Huh? Oh. Right. Um…one of Scootaloo’s dolls made some scissors fly and cut my hair...” Timmy lied.
“WHO’S doll?” Scootaloo asked incredulously.
“..but, I think I’m alright, Mom.” Timmy said, ignoring Scoots. “…It doesn’t look dumb, does it?”
Well, your bangs are too short on one side and that part in back won’t stop sticking up… Scootaloo thought as she assessed Timmy’s hair.
Dizzy hummed. “Well…it’s nothing we can’t fix.” She turned to Scootaloo. “And you?”
“Just my pride. None of you can ever tell anypony this happened to me, okay? None of you! Don’t even tell Dad! I would never live it down!” Scootaloo pointed at everypony gathered there.
The brothers giggled while Dizzy Twister just kind of blinked continuing to wear a concerned expression.
Scootaloo sighed and continued. “I’ll be okay. Just get me out of this stupid-hey!” Dizzy Twister abruptly grabbed her daughter’s foreleg, and scrutinized her hoof and other parts of her upper body which were visible through the openings in her dress.
“Honey! You have bruises all over! And cuts! What did this to you?” Dizzy gasped.
“Oh! That must’ve been when the lamp was whipping her!” Tinny said excitedly.
“W-WHAT!? When did this happen?” Dizzy was taken aback. Even Timmy couldn’t stop his eyes from widening.
“She fought to save me, Mom! You two should’ve seen her! She was awesome! And then she went on to save Timmy! She’s the greatest big sister ever!” Tinny ended by hugging Scootaloo.
“Uh…huh.” Timmy muttered, and looked back at Scootaloo skeptically.
“Scootaloo, is this true? Honey...!” Dizzy asked her daughter, wearing a look of appalled disbelief that made Scootaloo cringe.
“Um…” Scootaloo gulped. “Y-yeah. I kind of did get lashed with the plug of Tinny’s lamp when I got in kind of, sort of….charged it to rescue Timmy?”
Dizzy’s eyes widened in appalled horror.
Scootaloo continued speaking before her mother could interject, visibly wilting at making her mother worry. “I’m sorry! I had just fought one of those lamps off and had my baseball bat, and I didn’t know where you were, and Timmy and Tinny were screaming for help, so I….”
Dizzy embraced her daughter and stroked her mane. “Shh… Oh, Scootaloo. You’re not in trouble. My precious, brave, very silly little filly. I’m not happy that you got hurt, but…” She pulled back and looked Scootaloo straight in the eye. “I’ve never been more proud of you, Scootaloo. You were being a good big sister and protecting your brothers. Don’t ever apologize for that. Ever.” Dizzy said that last word with firmness in her voice, but she was still smiling, beaming with pride.
Scootaloo just looked back into her mother’s loving face, her mouth opening from falling slack, rather than from her having anything she wanted to say.
Despite the fact she couldn’t stop worrying about her mom getting mad at her for doing something which counted as both dangerous and very destructive roughhousing, she had kind of hoped that (eventually, somewhere down the line), her actions would be understood and even praised.
But…she wasn’t expecting this…
(While Scootaloo was stunned, Timmy chimed in “Hey I think I deserve some points too! I kicked the suitcase in the zipper and saved the day!”
“Really?” Dizzy cocked an eyebrow at her less hurt and much less-exhausted looking child, but broke out into a smile. “In that case, you can tell me all about your heroics just as soon as I’m done checking up of Scootaloo, okay?” Dizzy kissed her son on the cheek, which reduced the little colt to a fit of blushing and giggling.)
“Um…Sis? I think your makeup is running.” Tinny chimed in.
“Huh?” Scootaloo cocked her head to the side, genuinely confused. Then she felt something warm drizzling down her cheek, and touched it. It felt kind of…sticky? She looked at her hoof, and realized that it was black. A few moments later, she realized. “Gah! I forgot about that! Stop looking at me! I look so uncool!” Scootaloo covered her face with her hooves.
“Quite right. Your mane is a disaster and I still need to get some medicine for those cuts, too. Let’s get you cleaned up, young lady.” Dizzy Twister said as she stretched out a wing prodded her daughter to move forward.
“Can’t you at least help me out of the dress first?” Scoots asked.
“Not in front of the boys, dear.” Dizzy admonished.
“Oh come on, we don’t even usually wear clothes in the first place!” Scootaloo fumed.
In the bathroom, Dizzy Twister washed the make up off of Scootaloo’s face and helped her out of the dress, and began looking over all of her body for any wounds she may have missed.
“Hmm…There’s another cut behind your wing. And speaking of which, these feathers seem smeared with dirt, probably from baseball, have you been keeping up with your preening?” Dizzy Twister inquired as she scrubbed antibacterial soap around the cuts.
“Uh huh.” Scootaloo mumbled as she stared intently at the wall straight in front of her.
“Are you sure?” Dizzy asked, looking into her daughter’s face, blocking off her view of the absolutely fascinating wall. “Are you even listening?”
Scootaloo’s eyes came back into focus. “Um….” Scootaloo grinned awkwardly. “I-I’m sorry, Mom, what were we talking about again?”
“Scootaloo, what’s wrong?” Dizzy asked in a worried tone.
“Nothing!” Scootaloo insisted. “Nothing at all! I just…”
“You just…?” Dizzy repeated.
Scootaloo’s grin faltered and she gave a sad sigh. “Hey, Mom? Where were you? I mean, I had everything under control, and I was too busy saving everypony to be worried, but...” Scootaloo looked back into her mother’s eyes. “it just feels like you should’ve been there, you know? I heard both Timmy AND Tinny crying for help, but I went to save Tinny first because I couldn’t be in two places at once and I was hoping that…that you might show up to help Tim…” Scootaloo trailed off, seeing her mother cover her face with her hooves…
…and gave a quiet sob.
Scoots felt awful all at making her mother cry, even if she was still confused. “Oh, Mom, I didn’t mean it like that, I just…!”
“No, no, baby. You’re right. I’m so sorry! I should’ve been there! But I was tied up in the shower…” Dizzy lowered her hooves as she started explaining.
“Oh. So, you couldn’t hear my brothers screaming or something?” Scootaloo asked.
“Well, no. I had a pretty good idea you were in danger, but I mean I was actually tied up by a living shower hose!”
Scootaloo’s ears flattened. “Oh. Oh…” She hadn’t thought of it the other way around, that she might have had to rescue her mother.
“It wasn’t until I had freed myself from the curtains that I had the presence of mind to realize that all of you might be in danger!” Dizzy nuzzled Scootaloo, pulling her into a tight hug. “Oh my poor, poor babies! I’m so sorry I wasn’t there to protect you! You must’ve been so frightened!”
“Gah! Mom! Quit it! You’re still soaking wet!” Scootaloo squeaked and struggled in her mother’s grasp. “Alright, alright! I get it, I get it! You love us!”
Dizzy gave her daughter one final squeeze before letting her go.
Scootaloo took a step back, and took a breath as she righted herself. A brief awkward silence followed, where the filly circled her hoof across the tile before looking up at her mother. “Hey…You’re okay, right? You didn’t get hurt you, did you?”
Dizzy shook her head. “No, darling, not really. I’ll survive. Thank you though.”
“I’m sorry I doubted you, Mom.” Scootaloo said, nuzzling her mother. Then she recoiled from the wet mare. “Brr! You need to dry off, already, Mom!”
“Oh, I will.” Dizzy promised. “But I’m not done disinfecting those wounds yet.” Dizzy Twister poured some rubbing alcohol on the
“Wait….that’s not the stuff that stings, is it?” Scootaloo crouched and backed away, dreadful memories coming back as the smell of the alcohol filled her nostrils.
“I’m sorry, Scoots. We used up the last of our peroxide after the, ahem, incident you had with Ms. Muletta’s cat two weeks ago. Now, hold still.”
Scootaloo grinned nervously as she backed up towards the door. “Um…I’m fine! Really, just put a band-aid over this!”
Dizzy gave a look she was trying to hide exactly how amused she was with Scootaloo’s behavior. “Now, honey, weren’t you just telling me earlier today how you considered yourself a big girl now? What kind of example are you being for your younger brothers? I know it stings, but if you can fight off the entire house to protect your brothers, you’re brave enough to take this. Besides, the least I can do after leaving you alone to fight those monsters is to make certain you don’t get infected.”
Scootaloo whined.
“Scootaloo come here.” Dizzy ordered with a dangerous firmness growing in her voice. “I need to call your father and tell him what’s happened after I’m done taking care of you. So, stop wasting time, young lady.”
Scootaloo couldn’t argue with that, and was just about to surrender to her fate when her ears perked up to catch a familiar noise in the background.
Outside the bathroom, the phone was ringing! It gave out a loud “Riiiinggg….Riiiinggg” noise, and Scootaloo filled.
“Ooh!” Scootaloo chirped. “That’s probably Dad right now! I’ll get it!” She fled out of the bathroom before her mother could say another word.
Dizzy blinked, staring at the filly-shaped dust cloud Scootaloo had left behind. “Scootaloo! Get back here!” she called as she flew after her slippery daughter. But it was too late. Scootaloo had already picked up the phone.
“Hello?” Scootaloo asked in a pleasant, semi-serious tone that sounded like she was about to burst into laughter. “Scootaloo here, did somepony remember to be an awesome dad today?” she smirked.
Dizzy released a half-grunt, half-sigh and closed her eyes.
Through the receiver, there was just the faintest sound of a stallion taking in a deep breath…followed by a very masculine voice shouting “YYEAAAAHHHH!!”
“YEEEEAAAHHHH!!”Scootaloo yelled in unison with her much, much, shriller voice, her face screwed up in the kind of smile-sneer most would find appropriate for giving some kind of triumphant warcry.
Dizzy Twister facehoofed. “I just wanted to raise my only daughter to be a sweet little girl, but nooooo…”
Scootaloo beamed, and with her part of the father-daughter ritual greeting complete, she giggled girlishly.
She loved being a daddy’s girl.