//------------------------------// // Hashtag. // Story: Pretty Fly (For a Fluttershy) // by Flint Sparks //------------------------------// "Welcome to da crib, homie. Now this is where the magic happens!" Dashtag Yolo stopped her tour, turning around to examine the newest member of their group. "You ready to meet all the homies, homie?" "Tartarus yeah!" the newest member cheered with a high-pitched squeaky voice, making it hard to tell if they were male or female. Usually, this wouldn't have been an issue for Dashtag "McAwesome Sauce" Yolo, but the foal was at least a teenager. Dashtag Yolo turned around and gave the teenager a perplexed look. "Dude, what is your deal? I don't even know." The foal shrugged. "I don't know what you mean." “Ugh,” Dashtag Yolo groaned as she rested her head on her hoof. "Are you a pega-bro or a pega-ho?" "... I have no idea." Dashtag Yolo shook her head before finally offering her hoof. "Well, whatev then. Welcome to the 'hood. What's your name again?" The teenager took her hoof and gave the weakest hoofshake in history. "Justimare Beaver." As Dashtag Yolo shook with her hoof, she felt the sudden urge to punch the meek teenager in the face. It was as if sheer rage and vengeance for thousands of foals in the future were coursing through her veins like a river. Sadly, she bit her tongue and ignored it, but she resolved to throw a water bottle at what she expected to be a really, really, really bad singer. The two went on their way touring the warehouse. As they passed by various members participating in their training activities, Dashtag Yolo introduced them. "The colt lifting the dumbbells is Dumb-Bell. He really likes lifting dumbbells. The one playing basketballs is Hoops, and there's Score." Dashtag pointed to the last member, who was currently talking to an annoyed filly. "Yeah, he doesn't really score... Ever." "Hey, who's that?" Justimare Beaver pointed her hoof toward the entrance of the warehouse. Dashtag Yolo traced the foreleg's projectory with her eyes, laying her gaze on an adult, armored pegasus walking in. Her eyes widened as she opened her mouth to scream, "Everypony, get your swag and scram! It's the popo!" The warehouse reverberated with clanks and other sounds of falling objects as the fillies, colts, and ambiguously-gendered horrible singers with bad haircuts hitched up their bridles and scurried out of the warehouse. The armored pegasus barely had time to register the new events and decided against giving chase. Dashtag Yolo led the group in flight formation, being the fastest flyer. Dumb-Bell, her left hoof colt, flew next to her. "Hey, boss. Where's our muscle?" Dashtag Yolo wracked her brains for an answer. "I think she's doing... a flyby." "What did I say, squirt?" a loud, large, and obnoxious bully roared as he slammed a smaller colt onto the side of a building. The colt squeaked, struggling as the bully's foreleg pressed against his throat and reduced his oxygen flow. "I said give me your lunch money!" The colt squeaked something along the lines of, "I'll give you lunch money. Please don't kill me via asphyxiation," but the bully was too stupid to translate the dying screams of a terrified colt. Plus he was rather sadistic for somepony his age, either due to his upbringing or hanging out with the wrong crowd at a young age, but regardless of whatever led him to his dark path, it still meant he was an obnoxious bully. Also, his breath smelled real bad. "Huh? What is it, punk!" the bully spat onto the colt, splattering him with odorous saliva. The small colt, in his terrified state, let out a single tear that trickled down his cheek. "I oughta... right here and right now!" The tiniest of breezes arose. The feathers on the bully's wings rustled just enough for him to feel movement in the air. A shiver went through him as his spine coated in ice. He hesitantly turned his head, looking directly behind him. She sat on a bench across the street, staring at him. The bully rolled his eyes and returned his attention to the colt he was torturing. Meh, just some stupid filly. He raised his hoof with another snarl. "I hope you like a hoofy sandwich, wimp!" He moved to swing, but his muscles contracted and froze. Another chill run down his back, forcing him to turn around yet again. She still sat, having never moved a muscle. She continued to stare, her eyes shielded by sunglasses. The bully's eyes flicked up and down, noticing her attire included a sideways hat, gold chain, and a dark t-shirt. She doesn't look like a normal filly... The bully gulped, attempted to turn around to continue his beatdown, but could only stare at his victim with an shaking limbs. "Uh... I'm going to hurt you?" Yet again, he tried to strike the colt and intimidate him further, but the smallest of winds disturbed his feathers. His blood chilled and his teeth chattered as he turned around to face the filly. She sat there, unmoving and staring. Her wings were now outstretched, still and relaxing on the bench. Sunlight reflected against something hidden in her feathers, something metal, something sharp. As they made eye contact, the filly slowly shook her head before raising her hoof and slashing it across her throat. The bully, approximately five times the filly's size, immediately wet himself, dashed out of the area, and left his victim behind. The colt fell to the cloud. He groaned and grasped his throat, sucking in the sweet nectar of oxygen. He tried to lift himself up, using a wing for support, but his strength was sapped. Instead, he opted for an impromptu nap. At least, he would have if it weren't for a butter hoof reaching down. He blinked twice before reaching out and taking it, finally standing with support. "You okay?" the filly asked as the colt leaned against her. "He was doing an awful number on you..." The colt nodded, feeling an ache in his wingjoint. "Yeah. I've... been through worse. I'm just some wimp he likes to pick on, like, all the time." The filly scoffed and bumped her shoulder against him. "Wimp? If you have to endure something like that regularly, then you're a pretty tough pony. Almost as tough as Dash... Hey..." She looked at him and smiled, filling his body with a warm sensation. "M-maybe you should join our group. For protection." She smiled again and flipped her pink mane. The colt looked down, his face growing red hot as the aroma of flowers and badassery assaulted his senses. "I... I think I just hit puberty." "Swaggershy!" a voice called from the heavens. The two foals looked up at the gang of foals flying overhead as Dashtag Yolo touched down onto the ground. She ran up to Swaggershy and rested her hooves on either side of her head. "We have a serious situation, yo!" "What is it, Dashtag Yolo?" Swaggershy said, her burden lessening as Bulk "Swaggershy's Sworn Bodyguard 'Snowflake’ For Life" Biceps picked up the injured colt and rested him on his shoulder. "Did Flower Fluff Foals try to steal from the 'hood again?" "No, worse." Dashtag Yolo shook her head, causing Swaggershy's heart to sink. "Turns out that Cloudsdale is being occupied by the Mare and her lackies." "Oh no, not the fuzz..." "Yep." "...Gosh darn it to the swag..."