//------------------------------//
// V. Mom's Spaghetti 
// Story: Ordnance is Magic 2: Bombardment Boogaloo 
// by Perturabo 
//------------------------------//

"Boo."

After that moment, the memory was a blur. She remembered running - well, flying, as fast as her wings could manage - in a desperate attempt to escape the steel monster's clutches. She'd known it wouldn't work, rationally, but she had to try. To stay where she was would have been to accept death. 

The bodies were far more vivid in her mind's eye. At the time, she'd hardly noticed them, trying her best not to look at the coldly mangled remains of what had once been her kinsfolk as she fled. Some part of her must have studied them even subconsciously, though - most likely the same part that was forcing her to relive this now, that wouldn't allow the magnitude of what had happened to be forgotten. There were stallions, mares, fillies and colts. Sometimes, it was hard to tell where one body ended and another began, so intertwined and piled were the shredded corpses. Some had been blown apart from the inside, smoking craters rent open in the soft flesh. Others had been hacked away at by a grossly oversized saw, the whirring blade reducing some of the bodies to unidentifiable hunks of bloody meat. The worst of all, in many ways, were those that hadn't been subjected to either of those first fates; instead, they were trampled underfoot or ripped in twain by a being of horrifyingly prodigious strength. The carpet of slaughter covered the floor, almost every inch of it soaked in arterial crimson. 

In the waking world, it had taken her a few seconds at best to bolt downstairs in an uncharacteristic burst of speed, but here in the dream time was not quite so linear. She was flying, body and wings straining furiously, but she wasn't going anywhere - trapped in some motionless limbo, surrounded by the murdered dead. Behind her, the monster was coming, each step of its artificed boots - or were they claws? Perhaps - shaking the world around her. It was far from the only unsettling sound pressing down upon her; outside, wolves were howling. Once again, that was a break from reality. There had been no wolves on the last day. What her dream had interpreted as a wolf, however, had been sufficiently dire that she saw no problem with the connection. 

Eventually she reached the door, although she didn't remember actually moving from where she had been 'trapped'. The next bit was always the worst, and no matter how many times the dreams came, it never grew easier. Even so, she couldn't stop her body from going through the motions - a hoof, reaching out for the door, desperately grasping for freedom. A cold, metallic claw grasping and tightening around a leg. That leg shattering. She knew the pain wasn't 'real', but it felt real, real enough that she still tried to scream in breathless agony as she dangled upside down. The room was spinning, the same dead bodies she'd been observing only a few moments - or maybe a few hours - ago beginning to scream mournfully. She would have attempted to cover her ears, trying and failing to block out the maddening sound, had she not been flailing in blind panic. 

And as always, she looked up. 

The steel monster was a beast of jagged edges and burning wrath. Horns sprouted from its head, curling and twisting around one another in blasphemous patterns. It wore the colour of beaten metal, highlighted with dirty bronze and ebonite black. There were yellow and black stripes criss-crossing its body, appearing to shift around with every second to assault her eyes further. By far, though, the worst was the face. Two pricks of red light bathed her, burning into her fragile body and down further to the very soul with an ancient, bitter maliciousness. Below them, what had been she thought a speaker of some kind in real life became a distended, crushing jaw, shadow and flame pouring out of it from the depths of the monster's body.

It had a sword in hand, and it was coming for her. The grip on her ruined leg never faltered as adrenaline kicked in, imploring her to struggle with even greater force. She thought that, at the time, it had actually spoken; now though the words were worthless, the beast screaming in five voices at once as it drew closer with the knife. As the very tip pricked her stomach, one last burst of energy propelled her to reach out, to try and lay a hoof on the thing that she knew would bring her salvation. 

And still, the knife kept coming.

***

The last Element woke with a squeal and a start. 

Fluttershy sat up in the bed, covers draped over her, muscles rigged and sweat drenching her skin. It took a while for the mare to calm down - she closed her eyes and swallowed deeply, forcing herself to take long if shaky breathes. Opening her eyes again with a last, lingering exhalation, the Pegasus wiped the sweat from her brow and glanced around her chambers. The monster and his knife were gone, bringing only the scant comfort this room provided her. 

Even so, Fluttershy couldn't help but be worried, even more so than usual. In her dreams, she had always hit the button on the control panel she had in real life, consigning the Iron Warrior to death under her fortress-cottage's guns. She never relived the panicked, agonising process of dragging her body into what was left of the Everfree to hide that had followed, but the nightmare she had just been awakened from marked the first time her subconscious had not saved her. Once, perhaps she would have dismissed it as a horrible dream. Now, with the way reality and unreality seemed to blend at will in Equestria, the Element of Kindness wasn't so sure. 

The Pegasus sighed, letting melancholy overtake her for just a moment, before flapping her wings and rising from the bed. Down below, one leg dangled almost uselessly - the limb had never really recovered from being trapped in the sheer power of the Traitor Astartes' grip, and whilst her wings could carry her, if Fluttershy wanted to walk on it she usually required a splint or other support. She set herself down at her dressing table and mirror, opening her mouth to call her animals to help groom her. The mare stopped herself just in time, heart sinking even more - she hadn't done that in what felt like an age. The only creatures who answered her gentle summons now were as twisted as everything that spent too much time exposed under Equestria's poisoned sky. 

Losing her connection to the animals had been the biggest blow for Fluttershy. When Spike had found her in the Everfree after the departure of the Iron Warriors, she had wanted to give up entirely. Only the dragon's constant insistence, and in some cases straight-up carrying her had allowed them to outpace the storm and reach the Crystal Empire - the last 'safe' haven that they could have hoped to reach. They hadn't been the only refugees to make it - notably, the Cutie Mark Crusaders had also been recovered, and though at first traumatised had now found some fulfilment as her hoofmaidens - but being an Element of Harmony had made her a symbol of hope for the whole Empire. That, in truth, was why she carried on. She thought of her friends every day, and cried for them most days too, but Fluttershy also hoped that the small services as a figurehead she could provide made their memories proud. At first, it was the last job she'd wanted, but seeing the effect her very presence had on the ponies that remained at least helped focus her mind. 

Fluttershy began to comb her hair and clear the lingering sleep from her eyes, trying to ignore just how much older the stress-lines that covered her face made her look. She could ask the Crusaders to do this, she considered; even Spike in a pinch, though the dragon was likely to be busying himself with the duties of servitude at which he excelled. Still, this morning - or what she considered to be morning, with the loss of sun and moon she could never tell - the yellow mare decided she'd do it alone. In all honesty, Fluttershy reckoned she might have slightly unnerved the three girls the previous night. They'd been sat in her chambers, sharing stories of the old times; it was one of the first times in a while that Fluttershy had seen them smile. Applebloom had been recounting the tale of when the three had tried to set their teacher up with her brother. At the time, they'd been panicking, but in hindsight all three considered the entire misadventure hilarious. Still, when Sweetie told of how she'd first discovered the problem with their love poison in the book they'd been using, all three of them had been stunned into silence by Fluttershy's sudden and humourless laugh. Sweetie had found a story in it that at the time spoke of ancient legend, but in light of recent events seemed virtually prophetic. 

Dragons came. The kingdom fell. And Chaos reigned. 

The mare's morbid musings were interrupted by a knocking at her door. After a demure acknowledgement of "come in", Fluttershy's expression finally widened into a soft smile as Spike entered. Though she knew he was a servant of the state now and probably here on business, he was still her friend, and forgetting all decorum for a moment she floated up and over to wrap him in a hug. The dragon reciprocated, but his smile seemed glassy and more forced. Fluttershy wasn't sure whether or not to comment on that. 

"Good morning, Spike." The mare smiled, releasing him eventually. One 'positive' from her situation was that she had lost most of the stutter and stammer from her voice; it was still soft, but laced with a degree of resolve that in truth she didn't really feel. On the rare occasions she considered it, Fluttershy liked to think that their connection as Element bearers meant that it was part of Rainbow Dash or Applejack's spirit working through her. Considering the alternative as to what had happened to their souls didn't bear thinking about. 

"Hey, Fluttershy." The adolescent dragon smiled back, slightly more relaxed than before. "How did you sleep?" Before she could even respond, her expression told Spike all he needed to know. He grimaced, giving her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. 

"How's the city today? Has all the damage from that awful manifestation last week been cleared up?" She asked hopefully, studying him as she did so. Spike hid his emotions we'll, but inside Fluttershy knew that this had been just as hard on him. Perhaps even more so, with the loss of the closest thing he had to a mother and his beloved Rarity. More than anypony else, Fluttershy knew that her death and his powerlessness to stop it ate away at the reptile, and the fact that neither of them really knew the fates of any of their friends didn't help. But he shouldered it all courageously and stoicly, turning the grief to focus and service wherever he could. 

So when his own smile faltered a little at her question, it was even more of a cause for concern. "Well...yeah." The dragon nodded, looking away and running his forked tongue nervously over his lips. "Pretty much...but that's kinda what I wanted to talk to you about, if you don't mind..." Something in his tone made her pause, Fluttershy's trademark nerves flaring to life once more. Even so, she nodded. Spike didn't say anything, instead tentatively gesturing for her to look up. 

There, standing just outside the doorway, she saw them. 

"Fluttershy..." Spike's voice took on a measured tone as he held up his claws in an effort to placate the mare. "Fluttershy, calm down..." Fluttershy did not calm down. Her wide and trembling teal eyes rapidly panned over the surfaces and curves of the three Space Marines' power armour - one midnight black, one storm grey, and the other a mixture of alabaster white and crimson. Already, the Pegasus had begun hyperventilating, panic rushing to the fore as old memories reignited and the familiar pain in her hind leg roared back to life at the mere site of them. As the dragon desperately tried to soothe her, advancing slowly and holding her shoulder tight, the mare began to squirm and frantically attempt to back away. 

Voss watched all this in impassive silence, his helmet covering the expression of disgust his face would surely have curled into had most of it not already been replaced with bionics. It was both immensely satisfying to the Iron Hand to see Xenos cower before the warriors of the Legions, no matter how reduced those Legions may have been, and personally insulting to have to tolerate standing in the presence of touch weakness. On his left, Helsturnn wore his feelings much more openly - a similar expression of distaste, though it was tempered by an unusual note of at least passing interest in the scene before him. Deep down, the Medusan considered, his Fenrisian cousin was probably still agitated from the frankly embarrassing debacle with the reptile that had led to this point. Of the three of them, only Zuriel - who they had picked up on the way, and who stood at the front of the trio - seemed possessed of a desire to diffuse the tense situation. 

They watched for a while, as Fluttershy asked in tones that were disbelieving, if not quite able to reach anger, as to why they were here, and Spike trying to explain his reasoning for bringing them to see her. Eventually, when she'd got at least a fraction of composure back and had turned to face them - her face still locked in an expression of panic - Zuriel took a step forward. 

"Lady Fluttershy." Helsturnn bristled momentarily as the scion of Sanguinius knelt, but it seemed more a gesture of respect and an attempt to calm her than any admission of fealty. "My apologies for startling you as such...I understand that this must be a difficult sight for you." No doubt, Voss considered; the fact that they hadn't wiped these Xenos that we're not even humanoid out at first sight still rankled with him, let alone all the playing nice the Imperials were forced to endure. "I am Zuriel, Apothecary of the Blood Angels. These are my brothers - Helsturnn, Grey Hunter of the Vlka Fenryka." He offered a slight nod. "And Voss, Vigilator of the Iron Hands." He did not. "It was not our intention to disturb you...we have been working with your people, and we only wish to know the story of what befell the kingdom so we can better undo the traitorous works of the Fourth Legion." Zuriel finished, golden-blonde hair framing the patrician features that were so reminiscent of his Primarch. 

At least he hadn't apologised for them, the Iron Hand consoled himself. He despised the traitors utterly and completely, but had Zuriel apologised for their destruction of a Xenos nation Voss would have killed him where he stood. Still, his attention was soon distracted as the words prompted some recognition from Fluttershy. 

"The...f-fourth legion?" She asked, looking away. "That...that was what he called them." The response caused the Blood Angel to tilt his head in confusion. 

"Who?"

Fluttershy still looked hostile and wary to them, Spike interposing himself between the two factions. Even so, the pony scrunched up her face, trying to recollect. 

"The...Warsmith...he was a Warsmith." She said at last. Two things were apparent as she did - a shiver rocked her, most likely from the connotations of the word she tried not to think of, and also a mood of profound sadness that settled over Fluttershy. "He was my..." Voss tensed, preparing to end her on the spot if she said 'friend', and damn diplomacy and Nehemiah's plans. "I thought he was different..." She sighed at last, closing her eyes and hanging her head. "But he wasn't...he was just like all the rest of them..."

After an awkward silence, Spike took a step toward her, rubbing the mare's spine softly. "I...look, I don't really trust these guys either, Fluttershy." He confessed, casting a sharp look at the Wolf as he did. "But they say they want to fight back with us...and maybe telling the story would help?" He suggested. Fluttershy still looked unsure, even after the Blood Angel had offered his own respectful nod. Eventually, though, she nodded back and with a deep breath began to recount the events.

It was clear that reliving the story was both stressful and cathartic for her, and the three Space Marines did not intervene. She told them of the Iron Warriors falling from the sky in the remnants of their ship, the destruction of her cottage, and the slaughter at the Castle after the Traitors had somehow been apprehended. She told them of a battle against shape-changing Xenos, the Iron Warriors' mission into a place called the Everfree, and the building of a fortress to replace her house. She described the Iron Warriors attempting to eke out an existence amongst the ponies, their appearance at some sort of Gala, and the subtle change that had spread amongst them after that. Finally, and with obvious horror setting in at the vivid memory, Fluttershy recounted in excruciating detail what she knew of the day the betrayal had come and Equestria had been virtually destroyed. Voss felt his anger rise at the mention of what was obviously a traitor Titan, something that he at least had in common with the Xenos, but it was Helsturnn that spoke. 

"You killed an Iron Warrior?" He asked, not hiding his surprise as the Pegasus finished her story. She hesitated, swallowing nervously. 

"Well...I-it wasn't really me, but..."

"But you did help kill him." The Wolf clarified. She squeaked, but gave a small shrug. Helsturnn didn't reply, but a modicum of respect did seem to gleam in his eye. 

Voss wasn't paying attention to that. He was listening to his vox crackle to laugh. Beside him, the Grey Hunter straightened, nostrils flaring. 

"Vigilator-Captain."

"Moulkain." He responded. They both spoke in the Terzig dialect of Medusa, all clipped syllables and emotionless inflection, but the other Marine's agitation was apparent. 

"Contacts sighted."

"Don't tell me Daemon-spawn are in the castle." Despite his request, Voss's eagerness was almost tangible. 

"Then I won't tell you. But war calls."

The Iron Hand needed to hear no more as he turned and bolted from the room, his Fenrisian brother loping in his wake. 

***

"Isn't it nice when we all get together like this?"

"Shut up, Zuko."

If the flat sarcasm in the helmeted boy's voice hadn't been quite so apparent, Lorkhan might have been inclined to let it slide. As it stood, though, he was feeling no such generosity - he hated travelling by public transport at the best of times, and when it was after school and forcing him into such cramped, smelly confines as this bus trip was, it grated on him even more. The fact that this journey had been wholly his idea was something he chose to ignore. 

At the very least, he was surrounded by people that he knew, even if 'liked' might have been a slight stretch. Opening his eyes and dismissing the silently seething, yet thoughtful reverie that had descended upon him, Lorkhan gripped the handrail tighter and looked among the assemblage that Zuko had alluded too. It contained everyone from their little group; Lorkhan had insisted that they all come, finally getting the six of them to cave after what had been a full day of consistent nagging, and although he didn't trust them as far as he could throw them he was still glad he wasn't doing this alone. 

It was hardly the most earth-shaking concentration of power. To his left, Zuko and Barbus leaned on the doors of the bus as it rumbled steadily through the streets. The former had his arms folded, and his displeasure at all this could be felt even with his features masked. To Lorkhan's right stood Mordecai; irritatingly, he didn't need to lean or grab onto anything to keep his balance, somehow managing to stay perfectly straight-backed despite the vehicle's poor suspension. He wore his usual smug, yet gregarious expression on his face, offering Lorkhan a slight nod as their eyes met. That left three others, all of whom were far from the skilled operatives the self-elected leader of the group might have wished he had at his disposal. 

Rorke paced like a caged animal, expression locked in its usual furious scowl as he prowled around the small area of the bus he could walk in. Every time it shook, knocking him into a wall or threatening to make him stumble and fall, the short boy swore loudly and colourfully. Anyone attempting to ask him to stop was quickly silenced as they fell under his eternally-violent glare. 

Vortun stood against the back of a seat, staring blankly forward and utterly unconcerned by the small rocking motions the buses' journey sent through him. He was huge, a slab of dense muscle and ugly features towering over almost everyone he knew - only a few, such as Principal Perturabo and maybe Mr Falk, were as large. A transfer student, Vortun had swiftly become a fairly renowned member of the Olympia High student body, if only because any questions about where he was from and when he was going back were met with the commonplace brutality. 

And finally, there was Varvillon. He was the only one of them who had managed to acquire an actual seat, and was the one who looked more than any other like he was just along for the ride here. He idly ran his tongue over the braces that covered his teeth, intelligent eyes focused down on the book he was reading. Something horticultural, no doubt - Varvillon's unusual fascination with all things plant related was also notorious, and the only reason that Lorkhan didn't fly into a tirade every time he saw the boy indulging his passion was because if nothing else, he could get shit done when it came down to it. That was probably why he'd asked the studious individual to join them in the first place. 

"Vhy couldn't ve have just taken ze Growler?" Vortun rumbled, tiny piggish eyes still staring forward. Lorkhan was hardly predisposed towards giving him an answer, but fortunately an exaggerated sigh from Barbus alleviated him of the need to. 

"She has five seats, and you take up about two on your own. We wouldn't all fit." He explained, in a voice that made it apparent he'd made that clear countless times before. Slowly, Vortun turned to look down at him. Barbus didn't flinch, exasperation overriding any nerves he might have had. "Besides, I'm not letting you stink her out." He added. Vortun didn't say anything for a moment, slow but purposeful body held still. Then, he broke into a deep, gurgling chuckle. Barbus grinned, only fractionally relaxing. 

"Vortun does have a point." Zuko interceded, looking presumably a little more intently at Lorkhan. "I don't like the fact that you've talked me into doing this in the first place, let alone having to pay actual money to ride this piece of shit."

"Well I'm sorry, my armoured personnel carrier was in for repair." Lorkhan snapped, a little more vehemently than he had perhaps intended. Realising that more people were starting to stare, he dropped his voice to an agitated mumble. "And keep it down, would you? The last thing we need is for any agents of the Canterlot crybabies to report back on what we're doing."

"I must say, Lorkhan; all this paranoia is hardly the sign of a healthy mind." Mordecai cut in, looking legitimately concerned for his companion. Lorkhan chose to ignore it, not wanting to get into an argument with his slightly unsettling comrade now. In any case, it would have been swiftly overshadowed by Rorke speaking his first coherent sentence in a while. 

"What..." He trailed off for a second, muscular spasm around an eye stealing his attention. "What are we doing? You weren't exactly clear on why you dragged us all out here, except to continue your personal crusade."

"We receive a friendly visit from our supposed rivals, Principal Perturabo at least tries to justify decimating us, and Rorke actually speaks sense for once." Zuko chuckled, taking a step away as Rorke's fuming expression was turned onto him. "Truly, we live in the end times."

"I have already advised him that the present course of action is hardly the most diplomatic we could be pursuing, considering the already existing tensions at present." Mordecai sighed, hands still clasped behind his back. "Sadly, we all know that the temperament of those who study at our establishment leads to a certain degree of unsubtle directness, when it comes to resolving crises."

"...shut up, witch." Barbus groaned, rolling his eyes as they all just about processed what the words meant at the same time. Mordecai's expression instantly changed to an irritated frown. 

"You know as well as I do that magic is a fiction, my dear boy."

"Well, I also know that you gotta be doing some sort of ritual, since you hardly ever leave your room unless it's for school or to piss us off." Barbus grunted in retort. "And if Sunset Shithead or whatever her name is can turn into a daemon, who says you're not a witch?"

"You don't actually believe she turned into that bat-thing, do you?" Varvillon asked, expression disappointed as he finally decided to look up and contribute. "You're joking, right?" Barbus's expression told him everything he needed to know, Varvillon's face contorting to an expression of actual disappointment. "Give me strength."

"There was that massive pillar of light from the sky the night that that video supposedly took place." Barbus emphasised his point by jabbing a finger into the air in Varvillon's general direction. "You have to admit that that was strange, and I haven't heard any explanation so far that sticks."

"Nanomachines, son." Zuko put in, the tension dispelled - for the most part - as even Rorke gave a snarling chuckle. It quickly died off as Lorkhan's expression of cold displeasure became more and more apparent. They squirmed, none of them enjoying the biting scrutiny. Only Mordecai seemed unexpected.

"If you're all quite finished." The self-appointed leader said, voice threatening despite the lack of obvious emotion. The silence suggested that they were. "We're doing this because they deserve it." He went on, voice utterly convinced. "They sent those two girls over knowing full well that once they were discovered, we'd be the ones suffering-"

"No they didn't." Zuko pointed out, though a look from Lorkhan quickly pushed him back into silence. 

"Even if it wasn't intentional...I would quite like to get back at them for that." Barbus admitted, to Lorkhan's internalised glee. The low murmuring suggested that that at least was something they agreed with.

"So, if retribution is our merry band's goal, then what is our precise stratagem?" Mordecai asked, polite yet business-like. At the very least, they all seemed on board now.

"I vill obliterate zem." Vortun nodded, voice as close to gleeful as it ever got. 'Obliterate' was his favourite word, for reasons not even he seemed able to discern.

"Yes." Lorkhan nodded, smirking as he nodded at the larger boy.

"I vill crush zem to itty-bitty paste." Vortun went on, hand clenching into a fist as an ugly, feral smile crossed his face.

"No." Lorkhan clarified. Ignoring Vortun's look of disappointment, he knelt down, feeling all their confused and weary eyes on his back as he unzipped his rucksack and began to fumble around in it. Eventually, with a pleased chuckle, he pulled out a chevroned box - holding it almost reverentially before him. The others crowded around him, even Varvillon closing the book and rising from his seat to get a look at whatever it was that was getting Lorkhan so excited.

"...it's a balloon." Zuko said, flatly.

"No." Lorkhan answered, face unimpressed as he pulled the box further away from them. "No, Zuko, it is not a balloon."

"Then what the fuck is it?" Rorke growled, rapidly losing patience. Lorkhan shrugged, with a knowing smirk.

"Stink bomb."

That seemed to get them. All of the boys, even Vortun, backed away to the edge of the bus quickly, staring at both Lorkhan and the box with thinly-veiled shock.

"Where did you get that from?! It's huge!" Barbus hissed, eyes wide. "And wait, you've had that thing rattling around in your backpack all afternoon?!"

"Umm...yes?" Lorkhan responded, not really seeing the problem. "And I made it in Science this afternoon, it's not like they pay attention to what we do as long as we aren't blowing shit up. This thing here is the first wave of our artillery bombardment. My plan is, some of us will go to scout out the terrain and see if we can herd any stragglers into one place, whilst Zuko-"

"Woah, woah woah woah!" The helmeted boy interceded, holding his hands up in denial. "Okay, one, again with the siege metaphors. Two, don't...shake the box like that, please. And three, why the hell do I have to do it?!"

"Would you rather Rorke do it?" Lorkhan pointed out. A quick glance at the boy in question, who at that moment was stomping rather forcefully on a bug that was more than likely already dead, was all Zuko needed to answer the question.

"Okay, fine." He mumbled, clearly displeased with the resolution. "Wait...won't school be out anyway? We'll be stinking up an empty place."

"Again, oh ye of little faith, I have the solution." The boy with the box sighed. "Their website says one of their sports teams was out, doing...something, I don't know. Anyway, point is that we wait for their bus to get back, the team gets off and bam!" He shook the box again for emphasis, his companions backing away further. "Flawless victory confirmed."

As he finished, the smile on his face changing from smug to almost manic, an uncomfortable silence fell. The others all glanced at one another, not quite sure who was going to be the one who would say what they were likely all thinking.

"You've...researched this quite thoroughly, haven't you?" Varvillon finally spoke up, a sigh of relief leaving most of the others as he took one for the team. Surprisingly, Lorkhan didn't get angry - he just stared at the other boy, blinking slowly, still not really understanding the concern. Any further debate between the two was cut off as the bus suddenly came to a stop; the jolting arresting of motion sent Rorke, Zuko, Varvillon and Barbus tumbling down into a heap, all of them venting their displeasure at the fact. Lorkhan just managed to grab a handrail, arm feeling like it was about to rip out its socket as he clutched the stink bomb tight, whilst Vortun's size provided him more stability than the others. Mordecai simply maintained his balance as if it were nothing.

When they'd finally picked themselves up, dusting their now-dirty clothes off and exchanging the customary harsh words, the group dismounted from the bus, Vavillon hacking and coughing a little as it sped off in a cloud of oily smoke. Lorkhan was the first to touch solid ground, the wild grin returning to his face as he covered his creation up again and looked around. The other formed up behind him, also taking the opportunity to observe their surroundings. Even Mordecai's raised eyebrow seemed more contemptuous of the well-to-do side of town than anything else.

"Alright, let's do this." Lorkhan nodded, face suddenly becoming hard and serious as he cast another glance around. As he took in the clean streets, neatly mowed and maintained patches of grass, and groups of people looking strangely at the clearly out-of-place group, another fact settled irritatingly in his gut.

"...which way do we go?"

***

"Oh, come along Rainbow Dash." Rarity mumbled under her breath, sighing and pinching the bridge of her nose between her fingertips. She'd known it'd been a mistake, offering to get dinner with her brash friend when she returned from the sporting trip, but the athlete had been quite insistent. Applejack and Fluttershy were busy at their farm and the animal shelter, respectively, Sunset had been in a foul mood after yet another day of being ostracised by the vast majority of the Canterlot High community, and Pinkie Pie was...well, whatever she was doing, Rarity wasn't certain she wanted the details. She, on the other hand, didn't have to watch Sweetie that night, or have anything else to attend to - and of course, she was too generous to say 'no'.

She was stood against a low wall - not leaning, heavens no, that would dirty her favourite skirt - across the street from Canterlot High's car park, arms folded over her chest impatiently as she waited. In the car park itself sat the coach which had, about five minutes ago, pulled back into the school. It looked comfortable enough, but then it was most likely heated, whilst she'd been standing there for what must have been ten minutes by now. The fact only darkened the girl's mood further, and she narrowed her eyes, trying to pinpoint her friend in the milling mass of students that had got off it.

Even considering that they were all in their sports kits, she wasn't difficult to find - that distinctive hair could have been seen a mile away. Rainbow's distinctive, raspy laugh cut through the air as she exchanged words Rarity couldn't hear with Lyra, switching her weight from one leg to the other every few moments. By chance, their eyes met across the road; Rainbow waved at Rarity, blissfully unaware of the fashionista's annoyance. It swiftly became apparent as Rarity's pretty features deepened their scowl. Rainbow's expression changed to one of awkward apology, the girl holding up three fingers.

'Give me three minutes', she meant. It was always 'give me three minutes' with Dash. 

"I say, that hubbub over there seems rather exciting."

The sudden voice close to her made her jump, Rarity forgetting her frustration for a moment as she looked round to the source. The boy who had spoke was leaning on the same low wall - not close enough to be creepy, but not far enough away to seem disinterested. Not that she particularly minded - normally, perhaps, the slightly snooty girl would have forced a smile at him, and quickly made an excuse to leave whoever had approached her that day behind. But he felt different; he was handsome, yes, but more than that his smile seemed genuinely friendly. The simple surprise of his approach robbed her of the ability to speak momentarily, Rarity internally cursing how foolish she must look, standing there staring.

"Did they win?" The boy went on, apparently unconcerned by her lack of response. Instead, he turned to look at the bus, and the students congregated outside it - none of whom appeared to have noticed him. "Your team." He clarified. "Were they victorious?"

"I..." Rarity trailed off, for once quite unsure of how exactly to respond. She was hardly socially obtuse, but never before had she been put on the back foot quite like this. "They seem in high enough spirits...I would assume so." She supposed at last, turning back to look at the group.

"Ah, excellent." He smiled, genuinely pleased. It faltered into a gentle grimace of concern as he returned his gaze to her. "You seem rather...uncomfortable, my lady...would you like a spot of tea? I find it most invigorating."

That, of course, should have made her wary. He looked about her age, but it could be hard to tell sometimes, and her father had always been insistent that his 'little Princess' mustn't talk to strangers - let alone accept drinks from them. But...in everything he had done so far, it seemed to Rarity that the boy had been utterly sincere - and she was a big girl, now. If the absolute worst were to happen, heaven forbid, she even had considerable backup in the form of the sports team, who were easily within earshot. With all that in mind, Rarity put aside her trepidation and nodded, doing her best to smile politely. "Well, if you're offering, that sounds wonderful."

He nodded, pleased once again, reaching down to his belt and unclipping the flash attached there. Unscrewing the top, he quickly filled the lid-cup up with steaming fluid, handing it over to her. Rarity took it with a curt 'thank you', cupping it in both hands and inhaling the aromas deeply...whoever he was, she mused, he knew his stuff when it came to tea. Closing her eyes and tilting the cup, Rarity took a few delicate sips. The seamstresses' face almost instantly blossomed into an attractive smile as the warm liquid ran down her throat, any doubts about him expelled for the moment.

"I must say darling, this is delightful." She conceded, taking another sip. "You're a veritable life-saver...I hope you intend to tell me your name." She giggled. He chuckled too, hands still clasped behind his back.

"I am very glad to be of service, my dear." He nodded. "And of course...Mordecai, of Olympia High." The boy finished, extending a hand. She held the cup in one, letting her other soft hand be enveloped by his grip.

"Rarity." She offered back, eyes lidding a little as she let her smile widen. The boy's grin was practically infectious as he bent over a little further, still lightly clutching her hand as he raised it, planting a small kiss on the back.

"Enchanté." He chuckled, returning to his full height and letting her go. At any other time, Rarity would have found such a display cringe-worthy at best, even if it did appeal to her ego - now, though, her sapphire eyes widened as a blush tinged her white cheeks. Holding the wrist of the hand he'd kissed and biting her lip, Rarity returned her attention to the bus, trying to regain her composure. It'd been longer than three minutes, and still no Dash, but now she hardly minded.

"I-I must say, I've never heard of this...Olympia High." The elegant girl conceded once she'd calmed, before quickly worrying that she'd offended him. She needn't have; Mordecai gave another amused snigger, nodding once more.

"We do get that quite a lot." He conceded. "I'm afraid the reverse is not true...alas, that is rather the reason for my presence now." His words made her frown even as the blush still clung to her face, Rarity looking at him.

"I...don't follow, darling."

"Ah, you see, my dear friend Lorkhan is rather...single-minded, when it comes to his dislike for your fine educational establishment." Mordecai explained, as casually as if he was telling her what the weather report for the rest of the week had been. "I confess I cannot pinpoint the source of his obsession, but regardless I can hardly leave him to pursue it alone. Loyalty, you see? After an unintentional visit from some of your contemporaries yesterday, he has been rather pushed to the brink in terms of maintaining his calm, and when this afternoon our student body as a whole was punished for it...well, you can understand the effect it would have upon him." He went on. "I must say, I am rather surprised and impressed that he was able to produce the noxious munition he intends to unleash upon your athletic corps over there all by himself, but I suppose that is merely what one receives for underestimating their colleagues. He, as well as Zuko and Varvillon, are attempting to manoeuvre themselves into a position from which the foul-smelling grenade can best be delivered into their midst. Meanwhile, Vortun, Rorke, Barbus and myself have been commanded to 'secure the perimeter', as it were, though between you and I, I struggle to imagine the former two securing anything beside an appointment for psychological evaluation."

Even after he is done, Rarity stared at him, blinking in dumb incomprehension. She'd heard the words, of course, but actually discerning what he was saying was taking even her some time. As she thought she was beginning to understand, Rarity still wasn't certain she actually believed him - if nothing else, because it would mean that he had just told her the entirety of his group's plan.

"I...see." She said at last, still thoroughly confused even as she found herself unable to be truly suspicious of the boy. "That sounds rather...well, villainous." Mordecai chuckled in a manner that made her chew her lip once more, eyes sparkling a little.

"My dear lady," He purred, in a voice that seemed unfittingly soft. "We are nothing if not villainous." Ignoring how Rarity blushed again, he looked back over the road. "Ah, I do believe that they're in position!"

Rarity followed where he was looking, frowning a little in spite of her rosy cheeks as she struggled to pick out anything. Before long, however, she saw it. Poorly concealing themselves behind a parked van, hidden only because none of their targets were looking for them, were three boys. They were crouched down, peering over the bonnet, eyeing up the sports team. One of them, presumably this 'Lorkhan' fellow, stared with barely contained loathing - as if being in proximity to anyone from Canterlot High was enough to cause his discomfort. Another of them looked simply intrigued as to how this would play out, and the last...his face was hidden from her.

"Is he...wearing a Mo-" Rarity began, brow furrowing, before a raised hand from Mordecai stopped her. 

"I would advise not bringing the matter up, should you ever meet him." The boy suggested. Rarity didn't pry, instead watching with rapt, disbelieving fascination as the helmeted boy rose a little more, bringing something into view. She wasn't sure why he was going to throw a balloon at them - the whole 'stink bomb' issue had yet to sink in - but in any case, he never got to do it. By chance alone, Lyra glanced in their direction. eyes threatening to pan over the three boys before her brain kicked in. She frowned at them, leaning a little closer and ignoring what her teammates were asking, before a grin crossed her face.

"Oh, hi Zuko!"

Everything went silent. The Canterlot High students stared at the boys. The boys stared at the Canterlot High students. Zuko was frozen, balloon still held over his head. Dash loomed utterly bemused by the sudden turn of events, and Rarity couldn't blame her, whilst beside her Mordecai had put his face in his hands and begun to shake it sadly.

"ZUKO, DROP THE HAMMER."

Lorkhan practically squealed the order, drawing back quickly in an attempt to disengage. Zuko didn't 'drop the hammer', looking back and forth in panicky confusion even as Lyra continued to wave at him. The third boy was already gone, bolting away impressively quickly.

"THROW IT ZUKO."

"I CAN'T."

"THROW. THE. BALLOON."

"I THOUGHT YOU SAID IT WASN'T A BALLOON?!"

"FALL BACK!" Lorkhan shouted, already sprinting as fast as he could. "FALL BACK!" All of the boys Rarity could see, with the exception of Mordecai, complied with his order - 'Zuko' still hadn't lowered the payload.

That all changed as another figure jumped out, presumably after flanking the group flanking around the group. He might have been short, Probably no taller than Rarity's sister, but the twitching and screaming ginger boy had the desired effect on the target - the athletes almost instantly huddled behind Rainbow, their captain, in fright, and even she seemed temporarily unmanned by the figure about to plough into their ranks. He never got the chance - Rarity wasn't even sure how the bigger boy had been hiding, but her mouth dropped open as she took in his sheer mass. Whoever he was, he paid neither her or the other students mind as he stormed out the shadows and grabbed the small boy, who was presumably his companion. He wasn't fast, but he was building up momentum, able to carry his co-conspirator despite all the thrashing and attempts to claw out. They barrelled across the road and past Rarity and Mordecai, following the others into the park beyond the wall.

"Yes, well, I rather think that is my cue to leave." Mordecai grimaced, watching them pass. He turned back to Rarity, who once again found herself unable to form sentences out of sheer bemusement, and offered her a slight bow. "'Til next time." With that, he turned and vaulted the wall with surprising grace, following after his companions.

Rarity watched them go, heart pounding like crazy in her chest even as her mind raced to catch up, She watched the six of them flee, and heard Lorkhan - who she had gathered was the nominal leader - blame everyone but himself for the failure. Most of all, though, Rarity noticed the lip of the hill coming up. The boys didn't, and as one tripped and rolled down it, swearing every time they rolled end over end. It took even her a moment to realise that Zuko had let go of the stink bomb at the top of their fall. It hung in the air for a moment, almost as if possessed by some higher power, before dropping and cracking open. If she'd strained her ears, Rarity might even have heard the soft sound of the released vapours spreading over the fallen boys at the bottom of the hill.

"OH, FOR FUCK'S SAKE!"