• Published 22nd Apr 2016
  • 1,170 Views, 50 Comments

Well ... Je Ne Sais Pas ;~; - Alwaysthatoneguy



Immediately after the events in Equestria Girls, Sunset must question everything she's ever known, but she'll need to get some help from unexpected counterparts.

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20 ~ Crazy Ideas

Author's Note:

Well,

This has been a long time coming. Of course, I say long because it just felt long to me; I started working on this about three weeks back and it was my intention to hammer it out in a week or so. Alas, that just wasn't the case. Writing this was hard, mostly for life reasons (shit was happening and I had some work to do), but -- in honesty -- quite often when I thought about the scenes or started writing them out I got a little sad. Maybe a tear or two pooled up in my ducts, and I ended up working on other stories or thinking about future scenes in this one.

But before I let you go, I was reading over this with Vivaldi's Four Seasons playing at first; it was a wonderful addition by my estimation, and -- if you can handle reading with music -- Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata was a pretty fun fit for the dream sequence.

Beyond that, 'Valdi knows what's up.

Despite all that nonsense, here's this! Enjoy and lemme know if I missed stuff!

'Exhausted' was the most applicable word Sunset could conceive as she stared out Sugar Cube Corner's booth window and ignored her surroundings. School hadn't been fun. Being alone was dreadful so she didn't want that, yet people vexed her more than a hundred gnats in an open field ...

Nobody was nicer or more patient with her than her counterpart. Enjoying Shimmer's company seemed the only thing which could extricate her from guilt and self loathing. Shimmer ... accepted her. Being around the nice girl made Sunset feel like she really had a chance. Perhaps true forgiveness was out of the question, but Shimmer held out a chance to grow and kept holding it out despite how much Sunset swatted it away.

"Hello-ohh? Earth to Sunset, are you there?" the object of relief requested Sunset's attention with a hand waving in a long arc -- succeeding much to the dimensional interloper's tired surprise.

"What?" Sunset snapped, along with her gaze, to Shimmer, "I'm sorry; I totally zoned out."

Two raised brows and a short, "Ah," preceded Shimmer folding her hands on her lap and inferring, "I noticed. Are you tired? That's the third time in the last few minutes."

"Y- Uh ... " Sunset began but stopped herself to run different methods of answering through her head. 'Yes' is the obvious answer. You told Rarity about this once before. Telling Shimmer should be no harder. Despite noting 'the obvious answer', Sunset felt she would have to elaborate sooner or later. Unless her nightmarish torment in and after sleep vanished one night; a joke Sunset found no humor in telling herself on multiple occasions, as it was more improbable than Octavia or Gilda becoming nicer than Shimmer. At least give her the general truth.

"W-well, n- Yes! I mean, yes I'm tired; I haven't been getting enough sleep for a while now," Sunset's decent start to answering improved her mood and caused Shimmer's lips to curl up. She smiles a lot. Duh, she's trying to encourage you, Dunce. Now all you have to do is explain why you aren't sleeping well and move on. Alas, Sunset's lips moved on their own. "And, in answer to your question the other day, that -- causing me to zone out so much -- is why I fail to maintain eye contact often." Or you can just lie again. That works too.

Somewhat squinting eyes followed Shimmer's mouth straightening and she said nothing for a moment. She doesn't believe me? That's ... actually a good thing. No response came for a time but Shimmer soon observed whilst leaning back and shrugging, "Well, we're not really talking if you're not really here. Do you wanna go home and get some sleep?"

Not really, but would saying that be weird? Sunset pondered before deciding to answer with a swift nod. Grabbing her bag, she looked at Shimmer and lamented. More than anything, she wanted to stay and chat even if it meant falling half asleep every now and again; had there been an offer for something like coffee, she would've accepted in the time requisite to blink. In fact, she considered proposing the idea, but she soon realized, Shimmer wants to feel like you're at least trying to take care of yourself. You might as well give her that.

"Yeah," she found words to respond, "It's all muggy out anyway; I don't wanna get caught if it rains. Apparently it'll rain tomorrow so I won't wanna do this then, but I guess I'll see you Saturday?" How much she spoke like she was asking Shimmer to be there didn't occur to Sunset until much later.

Ten minutes prior, the prospect of being joined in her operation annoyed her -- somebody else being there might complicate things -- but in that moment the thought of Shimmer's company was relieving. Being left to her own devices terrified Sunset, and Shimmer was just ... better company than anyone else. Though she would refuse to admit it to herself or anyone else for an extensive length of time, Sunset knew on some level that running into Shimmer was probably the best thing to happen to her since her defeat (another thing she found beneficial but was loathe to admit).

Right as Sunset stood, Shimmer confirmed, "Saturday," and asked a question of her own. "Sunset, do you not li- Well, do you hate rain?"

Sunset raised a hand parallel to the floor and rotated it back and forth a few times before trying to equivocate, "It's battering is obnoxious. It's distracting, but, no, I do not hate it ... " And now I'm lying again. Dammit, talking to you is impossible. "It's just a bother." After a hum, Shimmer nodded, signalling acceptance of the explanation, and Sunset reluctantly excused herself with a, "See ya," to have the phrase launched right back at her.

Leaving the shop and walking toward home was every bit as anxiety inducing as she expected. Upon traveling a few meters, she stopped. I don't wanna go home. I'm just gonna lose it more if I do. She turned back to the store, glanced back toward her way home, and repeated this as she mused.

Ugh, the sane thing would be to go right back and come clean about what you want and why you want it; you're not doing yourself any favors bottling this up, after all, and she's willing to help. Hesitation marred two tentative steps taken toward the store before fear stopped her altogether. What are you doing? She would think you're crazy! Not that you aren't, but come on! That's a crazy plan! Spinning on a heel, she began leaving again but halted after one step. 'Crazy' is the perfect fucking word, Sunset! But she's not gonna judge you like that; she's literally said so!

Stationary because walking one way and turning around a lot would've looked odd, Sunset tried to force herself to reach out. Just go back and ask for help. What's the worst that could happen? Alas, the prideful part of her hated that idea and demanded to be heard. 'Ask for help'? That's basically admitting that you're powerless to do anything about this alone!

Conflict of interest and self image warred within her for another minute before she realized neither side was winning, uncertainty and indecision strangled her much longer than she could tolerate, and she trudged away from Sugar Cube Corner with one justification motivating her. At least I know what'll happen if I go home.

Despite their conversation, Sunset's plan was the opposite of resting, for she knew doing so would only make her feel worse. Instead, she read through textbooks and looked over class notes, making coffee when sleep threatened, to occupy herself throughout the night; her thinking was that staying awake all Thursday night and all Friday would generate sufficient fatigue for her to sleep enough in preparation for her Saturday scheme. Of course, avoiding sleep and its unwelcome effects was rather simple, but the consequences were predictable and detectable like a bright light shining on polished steel.

Octavia, during their Friday-set chess session, was first to make a comment about those consequences. "Are you even awake?" she asked with a slanted expression while capturing Sunset's king-side knight. "Check."

"Technically," Sunset, holding her head over their table with an elbow-supported hand, replied, "Unless this is a dream and dream Octavia is talking to dream Sunset." Following a yawn, Sunset moved her queen-side bishop to take Octavia's checking piece and attack a rook.

This elicited a groan from the councilor before she deployed her queen and announced, "Checkmate."

"Well, that took longer than I thought." Sunset noted as she turned her gaze from the board to Octavia. "That's three. Can we call it?"

Gentle morning light streaming through the music room's windows made the councilor's face -- twisted with slight annoyance -- and formal attire easy to see, but Sunset didn't care much. "I would have enjoyed a proper match." Octavia lamented as she began resetting the board. "But it seems that is a commodity you refuse to give me today, so go ahead. Go."

Watching a waving hand dismiss her, Sunset shrugged, stood with her school bag in hand, and started departing. However, before she made it to the stairs which led to the exit, Octavia addressed her again. "Sunset." She joined Sunset on her feet.

"Hm?" came Sunset's tired, acknowledging hum as she stared at the stairs -- urging Octavia onward.

"Do get some sleep before you gamble at the next board." Bringing a finger to her chin, Sunset hummed again but it was one of musing rather than acknowledgement. Are you talking about chess? "Or is that difficult for you?" This question caught Sunset's full attention; she redirected her attention from the stairs to Octavia, having to lift her head in a caution-begetting, slow manner, and raised her brow no more than half a centimeter. Though Sunset didn't respond, Octavia presumed her question answered in the affirmative by silence. "Tell me: are there nightmares? Do you see the faces of your victims and cry at the notion of what a monster you've become?"

'Monster' stung Sunset's mind like a bee would skin but she restricted the pain to a clenched jaw. Quiet followed for a moment. Octavia was letting the words sink in, but Sunset countered soon enough with a hand gesturing to her questioner, "You tell me: do you spend all day thinking about what's going on inside my head, and does the possibility of my grief bring you joy each time you consider it?"

Three soft steps preceding crossing arms brought Octavia closer to Sunset. Purple eyes narrowed and the councilor tilted her head from side to side -- searching Sunset's face -- before answering, "You are nothing if not persistent, plotting, and precise, Sunset Shimmer, and I would call myself a fool if I just let you go unnoticed." She paused to quirk her own brow. "I would also conclude it foolish not to consider your enemies' psychology and anticipate their actions; I imagine you understand."

Can't argue with that, Sunset agreed inside and nodded. "I guess that means you wouldn't believe me if I told you I wasn't your enemy then? Just someone defeated and out of the game?" she asked with certainty that she would receive a negative response. Of course, Octavia shook her head.

"Maybe you speak truth, but if not I would be positioning myself very poorly." Fair enough. Sunset lifted her head to signify understanding and Octavia continued, "I answered you. Grace me with the same respect, please. When you sleep, do the nightmares include everyone you've hurt. Am I present?"

Turning her head so Octavia would have to view a more-profiled, skeptical face, Sunset pondered the wisdom of implying that Octavia knew what she was talking about, but decided it didn't matter when a jab occurred to her. "You haunt me enough in the daytime, Witch." Pure silence subsumed the pair for a minute after those words. Dust floating in the morning light and settling on a myriad of things was louder than either girl. They searched each other's faces for intention without motion, and wind outside could be heard to those listening.

Finally, Octavia broke the silence not by speaking but by uncrossing her arms thus rustling the fabric of her clothing. Come on, give me your best shot. You've already said the worst you could. Sunset steeled herself to be pulverized by Octavia's concise, on-the-dot observations. She was not prepared for what was to come.

Initiating was a suggestion and a heavy step forward. "Perhaps you should then tolerate me more." Sunset turned her face more toward Octavia and furrowed her brow -- indicating puzzlement. "If I am a witch, I could turn you into a frog, or ... " Octavia's tone dropped much lower. "I could give you back the power you lost?" What? The possibility stunned Sunset. "Is that not what you really want? When you see yourself in the mirror, do you not dismay at what reflects?" The councilor took another intimidating step before, so that each point was relayed without chance for misinterpretation, enunciating, "A weak, frail, impotent primate. Skin not crimson enough? Teeth not sharp enough? Glued to the ground like a bird whose wings were clipped. Does it not infuriate you to no longer be able to impose yourself upon the world as you once could?"

With widening eyes, Sunset shook her head in a near 180-degree arc at a speed which might have produced pain and refuted, "No! That's not what I want! I don't-"

"Admit it," Octavia caused Sunset's certainty to wane by interrupting, "If you had the chance, or the crown, you would act exactly how you were -- do exactly what you were going to."

Still, Sunset, giving a hard stare, convicted, "No! That's wrong; I would give it to its rightful owner! I have a different position now!"

"Are you sure about that? If it were right there ... yours for the taking. Years of effort ready for reward ... Just because circumstances are different does not, and never will, mean that you are. Nobody ever truly changes overnight; no magic can create such a miracle. I know you know that." These questions swayed Sunset's resolve, but her gaze into Octavia's did not falter.

Would I? If it was right here ... in my hand- No, no, no! I never want that again!

Hence, concluding she was sturdy in her new outlook, Sunset again denied, "I would return it. Maybe it wasn't overnight, but I am different."

"Are you sure?" repeated Octavia. Of course, Sunset was about to follow suit -- opening her mouth to restate her conviction -- but froze when the councilor continued, "Or have you simply become such a skilled deceiver that you have fooled even yourself in this most-recent lie?"

None of Sunset's fortitude saved her from paling at the question and ... she broke eye contact to look at her hands -- lips hard pressed back together. Is she right? Is that why I can't stand myself and I've just been denying it this whole time? That's just who I am? Each lie she told to her friends ... to Shimmer ... Every omission ... half truth to escape complete honesty ... the repressed desire to spite the students and school for defeating her ... It all crashed into Sunset's head at that moment. No! I refuse to believe it! I was filth! Not anymore! I refuse- 'Not anymore'? She broke inside as the realization that she'd been spending weeks debating whether or not she was sane hit the forefront of her consciousness.

Just because you refuse to believe it doesn't mean it's not true; you are the same lying, crazy, villainous, self-serving monster you've always been! 'I refuse to believe it' is just more denial.

Sunset's silence, surprise, and shaken-up demeanor seemed to be everything Octavia needed to conclude, with another step forward which Sunset didn't hesitate back pedaling at (dropping a foot onto the stairs behind), "You are a far more dangerous adversary than ever I could be, Sunset Shimmer. All the skills and intelligence of the most cunning, wicked devil, yet more unpredictable due to not knowing whether you want to use them." She took another step, and Sunset moved her only foot remaining on Octavia's level to the next stair down. "You are a ticking time bomb. Who knows when you will detonate? Taking my eyes off you is equitable to uprooting a tree and standing on the ground-leaning side of it: I would be precisely where it would fall, and I would have had all the warning in the world."

Emptiness struck Sunset -- in her stomach, her heart ... her whole being. She didn't respond. Instead, she turned, walked away, and only stopped when Octavia again spoke. "Sunset. Again, do get some sleep before you gamble at the next board." Nary a nod came from Sunset at the restatement.

Walking out of the music room ran her straight into Gilda, for, in her intense dejection, she neglected texting any of her friends to meet her before she left. Gilda was waiting so long for this moment when Sunset was alone -- vulnerable. However, the bully discovered immense disappointment when Sunset refused to respond to anything said or done.

Neither Gilda's irritating chuckle nor her grating tone could compete with Octavia's tactic in harming or upsetting Sunset: the truth. Sunset barely heard Gilda say, "You owe her something? Sucks to be you, doesn't it?" let alone respond, yet she caught the last part and agreed in silence.

Taunts, name calling, physical assault, untrue declarations or implications of relationship status ... Any other day, Sunset would've verbally thrashed Gilda with annoyance and spite, but that day ... Gilda and anyone else at school were ants in the peripheries of her vision. Sure, when the bell rang and she was freed, she messaged her friends and traversed the school at their sides. However, each of them were ignored to the same degree. No attempt to get her attention was dignified by anything more than monotone, "Yeah," "Uh huh," "I'm fine -- just focused." or other dismissive comments. Even teachers had an impossible time getting her to pay attention beyond basic answers to questions -- most of which were wrong.

Rain began falling right before lunch; though Sunset was too detached in thought from anything to notice it or the idea of eating. Octavia's words and the questions they rose were the only things within her concentration. All of her worked throughout the school day to reject or at least mollify their meaning, but, when the final class ended, she found herself forced to an admission.

Saying, 'Octavia's wrong,' is crazy -- deluded even. How often has she been wrong? I can't recall once. No memory of Octavia being anything less than flawlessly on point registered in Sunset's mind right then, nor did the rain or biting cold therein as she walked on autopilot toward home.

Emotion had abated within Sunset since she evacuated the music room, and it wasn't until she was halfway home that she found out why. It was an instinct of pride; suppressing her feelings allowed her to hold back how truly affected by the realization she was. No, not yet, she told herself when water which wasn't rain began pooling in her eyes. You can keep it in at least 'til you make it back. You're strong enough.

Alas, placing that expectation only reminded her of Octavia saying, ' ... weak, frail, impotent primate ... like a bird whose wings were clipped.' and it shattered any resistance she had to not crying on the streets. One tear rolled down a cheek. It's just rain. Two more followed -- streaming down either side of her face. It's just rain, she continued to deny to herself. Many subsequent tears trickled out and, soon, denial became impossible. Still, she restricted herself to a fit of hiccups and sniffles until she made it home.

That was where she really broke down.

First, she collapsed against her door and whined -- muffling long cries into a quickly-tear-soaked hand as a babbling brook of tears became a creek. Next, her breathing went ragged, she felt like she was choking, and panic came (assuaged only by part of her which realized there wasn't any real danger of dying). Last, she again found an efficient rhythm of breath and went to fall on her bed to scream sobbed sorrows into her mattress.

Screamed sorrows turned into agonized, atrophying wails which ultimately became, over two hours, sharp whimpers. They remained as sharp whimpers of relative quiet for another hour before Sunset had a break. Two hours of normalcy passed in which she went about her day as if nothing was inordinary. Of course, she had to wipe her eyes and blow her nose more times than she cared to count, but her day was somewhat tolerable -- rain bashing against things outside didn't help -- for that duration ... until her body notified her of the consequences of undernourishment and bawling for three solid hours.

Dehydration was facile in its initiating strike -- reducing Sunset's limbs to trembles and her tongue to the coarseness of gravel. It compelled her to retrieve a glass from her kitchen, fill it, drink its contents, and fill ... and drink ... and fill and drink ... and fill and drink ... and do so two more times before she returned to some stable semblance, yet that didn't mean her duress was done.

Hunger attacked next in the form of a twisting stomach which, at first, Sunset believed was the result of continuing sadness. When her stomach growled punctuation, though, she recognized the sensation well and placed her glass (alone) in her sink as she stared over cupboards and a refrigerator she could not hear the hum of over her shaky, attempting-and-failing-to-relax-herself breathing.

The tidy, spotless kitchen offered a vast array of choices but they mocked her rather than helped, for eating was farther from her focus than the sole glass in the sink (which was also far from her main focus). Sunset hated messes, so the thought of such a chore, despite its smallness, bothered her.

Maybe Octavia is wrong ... or right but missing something. Maybe that's why I hate myself so much; I am a mess, and I can't do anything about it.

Ruminating time wasn't given. Disregarding a desire to curl up and forget about everything, Sunset had to eat. However, her choice (a bowl of ice cream she prayed would freeze her depression) could only be halfway finished before her appetite vanished in a wave of sickness.

Although sweet, relieving defenestration came to that sickness when her body's demands were met and she stared into hands which she clasped atop her desk, it didn't last more than a minute, for choosing to attempt calming herself at the desk resulted in noticing where Octavia's words, ones which had only ever made her feel better, were written: 'You can handle a little torment.' For the first time since Sunset heard them, they devastated her strength rather than supported it.

Tears again started falling but she was determined this time to contain her whines behind a tensed, quivering, pressed-up lower lip. ' ... handle a little torment.' '... handle a little torment.'? No I can't! I can't handle this! Or maybe this is beyond 'a little'?

One massive lump formed in Sunset's throat and a series of convulsions joined to threaten betraying her resolve. She resisted their siege, belting out sad, tortured hums from behind a clamped mouth, for only a few seconds before another idea struck her. Who cares if you can handle it or not? It's just what a demonic, vile, psychotic monster like you deserves!

With that internal punch, her resistance was vanquished; she collapsed over her desk -- eyes on forearms which caught her and her tears right on time -- and allowed misery she feared someone else in the complex might hear to pass as stertorous, discordant cries.

Half an hour of this passed. Nothing died down, but she lifted her head and caught sight of another object which diverted her thoughts: her boots. 'You don't deserve to be treated how you're being treated.' returned as a canoe of comfort in her river of gloom. "Sh-Shimmer ... I nee- hic ... I-I need to t-talk about this!" she panicked aloud between sharp inhales and short whines as she fumbled to retrieve her phone.

Seclusion, omission, lying ... The time for that is over. It has to be over! "N-no more! This ... T-this ends now!" or so declared Sunset, looming over her device while hovering a finger over the button which would begin a call with Shimmer, yet several tears dripping onto the phone in rapidity made her pause.

What are you gonna do? came the voice in her head. Call and bawl your eyes out -- begging her to help you with something you're not even sure she can? Sunset's finger trembled a little more than the rest of her but she moved it closer to the 'call' button nonetheless. Had Shimmer been at all how Sunset perceived, she would understand without judgement. Hell, she'd probably be over as soon as she could to be here for me. To listen, to be patient, to let me get it all out at my own pace ...

Doubt that Shimmer would do her best to calmly, gently, kindly provide comfort was absent in Sunset's mind. In fact, the sobbing girl figured Shimmer would say exactly the right thing, and the whole ordeal would fade away like a bad dream. Sunset would wipe her eyes and confidence in her reforming self would be restored.

' ... you'll feel a million times better when you do."

Thence, remembering Shimmer's encouragement, Sunset lowered her finger so it was a mere centimeter from the device. It's only your dignity. You lost that long ago. Right before finger and gadget contacted one another, she tossed the phone onto the desk and heaved. She couldn't do it ... not then, anyway. Instead, she texted an assured time and meeting place for tomorrow, returned the gadget to the desk (she couldn't care less about a response right then), and left her seat to collapse again on her bed with a proud conviction as she continued crying into the covers.

I am not talking to her like this. I will have a calm, civil, dignified confession ... just not today. Pulling her knees to her chest whilst turning to lie on her side, she removed her boots, let them fall over the bed's edge to the floor, and cried her tired, forlorn self to sleep. Tomorrow you'll do it. Until then ...

You suffer.















Sleep, the supposed 'sweet release of awareness' was no sweeter or more relieving than it had been for Sunset since her defeat. Her eyes snapped open to a pitch-black sky recognizable as such because of rain precipitating from it. Sunset was soaked and she lied on her back, on something cold and also wet, so she wished to get up. However, her limbs resisted commands.

Only her head seemed moveable; though turning it was a painful, tedious task, she discovered she was in a muddy pit -- more like a crater. Nothing about this alarmed her. She was content to lie there and freeze. What's the point of getting out of this if it's just gonna be more of the same?

Exhausted and defeated, she rested there for what seemed like minutes -- awaiting a moment where experience became nothing, but frigid death did not meet her. Rather, touches of water on either side of her face brought her to recognize what it meant to be lying at the bottom of a pit amidst heavy rainfall. Adrenaline cracked her skeleton to an upright, sitting position. No, no, no, she repeated to herself while forcing herself to stand despite creaking, crying aches from her bones. I am not drowning to death!

Moving as fast as her legs felt capable of carrying her, she was met by slippery, muddy slopes leading out of the crater, yet she ascended as best she could -- grunting or shouting each time she slipped downward and caught herself either with her hands or her face. During the climb, she noticed something dismal. Is it getting steeper?

Of course, it was a gradual effect occurring only at a certain altitude upon the slope but Sunset didn't care; it scared her and made her speed up with wanton disregard for the pain in each of her bones. By the time she reached the top, she dropped her torso and huffed as she let her legs hang, slowly hanging more down every breath, until she finally looked up to see herself.

Not her human form but the crimson-skinned, winged, demonic form she became by donning the element stared down at her smiling. A loud rumble followed by a bright flash illuminated the sky at that moment ... and the creature. Fangs in the demon's mouth curled downward like they were prepared to devour the drained, prone girl, and the monster extended a tensed, clawed hand. Part of Sunset thought it would be easier to be lifted, restrained, and torn to shreds, but another part became horrified, panicked, and wanted nothing more than to escape.

Thenceforth, the latter, freaking-out part won without contest. "No! Get away!" she screamed, reeled back, and immediately felt the mud beneath her give way at the sudden motion. She stumbled back before falling and tumbling down the pit's slopes. When she hit the bottom, she was under murky water. Hence, she flailed to her feet in a fit of labored screams to discover the pool, while rising in level, only came up to her knees.

Looking up out of terror brought no relief as copies of that monster stood -- sporting that same hungry, psychotic smile -- everywhere around the crater's edge save one side: the one Sunset was farthest from. Strangled, shaking breaths accompanied a wet, muddy, burning-in-pain body whilst wide eyes flicked from rain falling and gushing into the pit, to the watchers standing on the steadily-closing-in crater's opening, and to the sole bastion of escape where nothing but the muddy slope, rain, and black sky could be observed.

Despite panic, fear, and stress, there was only one option to Sunset. Urged by the water swishing around and climbing her legs, she pressed through the resisting, threatening liquid toward the far edge with forced, deep breaths which only became harder and sharper as the water rose to such a point that Sunset had to raise either arm to keep her hands from submersion.

Water reached the small of her back upon her reaching the slope and her lip quivered as she began climbing what was passing a 45-degree angle. Things only became steeper and slipperier, and every slide down held greater chance of falling into a pit which maintained a particular size -- just large enough to cram Sunset into.

However, right as the angle approached 90 degrees, Sunset's hands gripped the edge. She tried to push her feet against what were then walls for power to lift herself but they always slid, and tears formed when the walls curved back so she was dangling off a wet ledge which felt like it could yield structural integrity at any moment. It was then that a figure approached. They were hard to see at first because of the darkness but Sunset soon recognized someone she was just as scared to see as any of the demons.

Octavia stalked right up with a puzzled face.

Drowning proud is worse than drowning in humiliation, Sunset decided as she choked out a sad, "Please, help." Octavia looked beyond the crater like she hadn't heard the request, so Sunset begged again louder, "Please! Help me! I'll do whatever you want. Just help me!" To this, Octavia shrugged, stared back to Sunset, and stepped closer. First, Sunset, thinking Octavia was going to help, sighed in relief, but relief became fear when the councilor gave an icier-than-the-air-or-water glare and stomped on one of her hands. The edge Sunset clutched with that hand collapsed instantly and the other crumbled some in reaction.

"Please! Please don't!" Sunset screamed her pleas and cried without restraint -- shaking her head and shrieking as her other hand slipped and barely maintained purchase. Slushing began first underneath Sunset's clinging-for-life fingers and next under Octavia's shoes as she turned to walk away. "Wait! Where are you going?" Sunset yelped after the ledge crumbled a bit more, and her body swung which caused further degradation of the handhold and invigorated Sunset's fear. "Please! Anything! I'll do anything you want! Save me!"

Octavia was out of sight. Looking down provided no view, just sounds of water bashing against water, and the crater's entrance diameter was only a couple meters. Still, the councilor could be heard replying, "You already are doing what I want, and you could help yourself. Letting go would be doing more than just you a favor."

With this, Sunset bit her eyelids together, failing to stop tears from stinging through, and yelled upon feeling her handhold break. Free fall, however, only lasted a moment, for something cinched down on her wrist and yanked her out of the narrowing hole with almost no effort; it was a grip unyielding and unforgettable yet tender and comforting all the same.

Of course, it vanished the instant Sunset was safe on solid ground and she scurried away from the closing pit with heavy-but-not-calming breaths. Once she believed she was alright, she looked back to see the opening stop closing at a size smaller than Sunset's palm, so rain could continue pouring in albeit at a slower rate.

Where did all of me ... they go? she wondered as surveying the area presented nothing but rain, ground, and sky. Who saved me? Her questions were dismissed when the downpour's intensity increased -- becoming so dense that Sunset couldn't see much around her and couldn't tell how much water on her face were tears. Soon, small points of different-colored lights surrounding black dots could be identified. These, Sunset knew well; they were eyes staring at her.

A muffled shout graced her ears which, if it was meant to be coherent, she didn't understand. Perhaps it was the only reason Sunset could consider to be grateful for the rain, as, whatever it was, it didn't sound nice. Regardless, she didn't want to stand there under the scornful stares surrounding, so she began walking away from the hole which began closing again as water started splashing out of it, hanging her head and watching drips (tears and rain) fall, until she bumped into something metal and sturdy.

Glancing up revealed Shimmer's motorcycle. Nothing was around it save for the semi-distant eyes and the rain. There, where the downpour cascaded over and made the bike shine, Sunset depressed by the back wheel, brought her knees to her chest, and leaned against it -- boring her gaze at it to cry without thinking about the eyes surrounding. She didn't care about her pride or how childish she looked then. All she wanted was something pleasant and kind in nature to ease her fear ... to comfort her sorrow ... and anything related to Shimmer seemed the best candidate.

Thence, she looped her arms around her wet, muddy-in-spots boots and closed her eyes while the tears fell.















Something astonished her when she next opened her eyes; she awoke in her bed with her face in a damp patch encompassing some of her pillow and the mattress, but her eyes shed nothing. They stung and felt puffed out, sure, but they didn't contribute anymore to staining her face or sheets. Alas, as wakefulness returned, she realized she would have to wash her sheets soon ... again. What could she do about it, though?

Until you talk this out and make real progress towards getting over yourself, this'll be your life. Memories of her nightmare and those prior, punctuating with vigor, reminded her what her 'life' was like. Shivers traveled down her spine at the thought of it as she rolled out of bed to move to her desk and check her phone.

'3:03' the device read along with a concise, 'Sounds good, I'll see you then,' from Shimmer when she accessed it.

"Five hours!" Sunset groaned. "I stayed up a day just to sleep five fucking hours? This has to stop. Today ... Today is the day for fuck's sake!" Her morning was taken slow since she had until 5:00 before leaving to arrive on time and every ticked minute induced a stronger anxiety.

Breaking into the school, tailing Trixie ... That was all easy (child's play to Sunset's habitual capacity to be heinous). Confessing to Shimmer, though, pleading for help despite not knowing if that would just mean sitting in a room for hours trying to find vocabulary ... That was the scary part. But you have to do it. Have some fucking decency and courage already, Sunset!

Come 4:55, Sunset was clean, had two cups of coffee, ate, and was prepared to depart -- in her beautiful boots and with her school bag secured to her back -- into the world despite not knowing what to say to Shimmer besides, "Please help".

Shimmer met Sunset right before 6:00 two blocks from Canterlot High. Alas, words weren't exchanged. You're never late, Sunset noted as she beckoned to her counterpart to follow her toward the school through a cold, sun-lacking morning. They moved in silence, not having greeted each other aside from dull waves, for quite some time. Sunset busied herself trying to broach her request with tact, so it was Shimmer who broke the ice.

"So, a-are you, uh, ready to ... fell Gilda and Trixie with ... U-uh, exactly what is your plan?" she asked slow and cautious like she was trying to work to something else.

Paying the inflection of the question little mind as crisp cold and intense consideration were more prominent in her concentration, Sunset answered, "Simple. We patrol from a ways behind the building to try catching them, I'm certain Gilda will, bust in through one of the side doors, get footage, tail them inside, and see if we can't catch them in a mistake."

Missing nary a beat, Shimmer questioned, "How do we, 'tail them inside'?"

It was a sensible query. Sunset should have anticipated it before she spoke, but other things were plaguing her focus. Regardless, she explained as she led them far around the school, "There are broken locks on a few of the side doors; if you know what you're doing, you can open them from outside easily."

"And you know what you're doing, and you're gonna ... break us in?" Shimmer saying 'break' made Sunset cringe somewhat because it was said with such subtle indignation.

'Yeah' was the obvious, honest answer which occurred to Sunset, but, "It's no big deal; it's for a good cause." slipped out before she could think about it. Shimmer's eyes rolling were virtually audible yet she said nothing. Instead, she let Sunset settle them in a little evergreen patch a decent ways from the school's (predicted by Sunset) empty parking lot. "From here we can see the back and walk, I grant quite a bit, to see either side." Sunset remarked in an off-handed tone, steeling herself to use the waiting, watching time to talk to Shimmer, before adding, "But walking's probably not so bad considering this chill."

Her comments were met by an idle hum preceding Shimmer returning, "At least it can't be that far below freezing; I think it's supposed to rain la- ... -ter" She noticed what she was saying a little too late.

Before she could say anything else, Sunset, suddenly tense because of more than cold, mustered an annoyed, "Oh." Fuck, just snow already!

"Uh, I-" Shimmer started speaking again but stopped when Sunset turned to face her. Neither continued speech for a moment. Sunset was about to try requesting help with her ... issues but quit in relief as Shimmer seemed like she had something on her mind. However, Shimmer just returned her gaze to the school and, under Sunset's inquisitive stare, said fast like she was trying to gloss over the interaction, "I know you don't like rain though." I fucking hate rain. You just don't know. "So let's hope this goes by quick."

"Yeah." With that, Sunset forwent her chance to talk. Job first. Then you can ... reach out. Either was silent for a bit in their watching -- intermittently shivering and breathing into their hands. Sunset was content in that silence but grew curious when she turned behind them to ensure they were alone and saw Shimmer staring with a scrunched expression, so she instigated, "Something on your mind?"

Waving a hand, Shimmer glanced behind them, huffed, looked to the school, and chattered, "N-no. N-not really. Just c-cold. W-w-wondering how you're s-so still." It was clear prevarication, but Sunset didn't pry. She knew what it was like to be trying to word oneself.

"Just got used to being cold after a while."

The pair paced for 45 minutes before movement was spotted in the form of three cars making heaps of noise pulling into the parking lot; several students and faculty members Sunset recognized on the spot stepped out when they parked.

"Huh? What're Council people doing here?" Sunset whispered despite being well beyond earshot whilst she witnessed a staff member unlock the back door and let the students in. Moments passed in silence prior to something going off in Sunset's head. Let the fraud begin. "I have an idea; let's head to the front."

Quick motion was welcomed by both, though, preceding moving too far, Shimmer inquired, "Plans changed?"

"Things happen. Sometimes, we have to improvise." was the shrugged-out answer she got without being kept waiting. When they reached the front entrance, Sunset pressed her face to the glass, waited -- scanning and confirming the door was locked -- and let out a happy hum before knocking twice.

Someone Sunset knew as Lyra came to open the door just enough to address, "Sunset, or ... Sunsets, I guess. Why are you here?"

Okay, Sunset. Embrace dishonesty. It's natural. Disregarding it leaving her stomach churning, Sunset leaned onto one leg more than the other and lied, "Octavia left something in the music room. Apparently, she has no wish to get it herself, so she decided to interrupt our morning."

Lyra studied Sunset's face for a moment, yawned, and shook her head a few times. "That girl's a headache. It's always something ... " She groaned and pushed the door open. "Whatever, just tell her I said to get the things she wants before leaving, and I wouldn't mind if you flicked her in the face or something, too." Upon Sunset grabbing the door, stepping inside, and holding it open for Shimmer to follow, Lyra added, "And be quick about it. The last thing anybody else wants is to have their morning interrupted specifically by you." She looked like she was going to say something else, but kept her mouth shut as the front door closed.

"I'll be sure to." Sunset assured. With either of them safe inside the warmer-and-warming school, and Lyra turning away, Sunset celebrated inside Easy. That was ... easy. Her celebratory attitude became regret as she realized what she was celebrating, and alarm and guilt raised as Lyra stopped to say one more thing.

"Can I ask what you owe Octavia?" The reason for the question was obvious; anyone who knew Octavia knew she didn't just ask favors, and people didn't do her favors unless they owed her something.

However, Sunset didn't have time or desire to spew more lies, so she walked away from Lyra and dismissed, "You can, but I won't tell you." without a care. They had work to do, or Sunset did, anyway. Although her operation was falling apart some with the added possibility of councilors being in their office, she found the door locked after several minutes of walking.

What are they doing here then? It was on this thought's heels that she noticed Shimmer giving her a pursed frown. "What? Thinking about me being an awful person and a liar?" she inferred while turning her attention to the office's lock, kneeled, and checked both ways down the hall to find nobody beside them was present.

"I- Well, I wouldn't h-have-"

"Don't remind me. Besides, Trixie will do the same thing when she realizes there are people here." Sunset interrupted before any painful commentary could be made as she removed and fished in her bag for a curved pin and a thin, flat sheet of steel. Upon raising the tools to the door's lock, she looked at Shimmer to discover the frown still there. "Old habits die hard, okay?"

Later, Sunset decided this was a bad thing to add. Shimmer probably wasn't going to say anything, but the comment prompted a, "Birds of a feather flock together, huh?" which made Sunset's breath catch in her throat.

"Sh-shut up. Just tell me if anyone starts walking into the hall, 'kay?" Sunset prayed the conversation was dropped, started picking the lock, and swallowed when Shimmer's lips popped like she was going to say something else on the matter, but she didn't.

Instead, five seconds passed and she did as asked. "Uh, there's someone in the hall."

At that, Sunset's neck straightened and she yanked her tools from the door. How could someone've gotten there without- she began to question to herself but stopped when she saw who Shimmer referred to -- a still Octavia looking down to Sunset with a relaxed, stoic expression. The councilor (holding a black book against well-pressed fabric across her chest) was perfectly kempt save for a single scratch on her upper-left sleeve and a small spruce twig clinging by it.

"I would ask if you need help," she began while revealing a small, brass-colored key. "But I feel you would have managed just fine without me."

"O-Octavia," Sunset stammered whilst staggering to her feet and clasping her hands, with her makeshift lock-picking equipment, behind her back. "I- Uh, it's you!"

"Of course it is. Who else am I?"

Sunset moved back as Octavia padded to the door -- with slow, measured steps not unlike a feline testing its prey -- before retorting, "Sometimes I feel you're an apparition. What're you doing here?"

To this, Octavia shrugged and pushed her key into the door's lock -- glancing away from Sunset for but a second. After a short twist of the key, she locked eyes with Sunset, pushed the door open, and offered, "That depends on you; if you are simply picking locks to entertain yourself, then I have nothing beneficial for you." She paused to let Sunset, who snatched her bag, and Shimmer enter, follow them inside, and close the door. "But if you are here to be thieves in the school, which I presume is more likely, and you wish to remain incognito, then I might warn you that Trixie just got let in by the same councilor you lied to and you probably have little time before she tells her about you."

"I see." affirmed Sunset as she moved to the room's left and knelt by the very filing cabinet Octavia informed her of prior. "Thanks for letting me know."

"Did I let you know something? I guess I did. And I opine you hurry." Octavia went to the room's opposite side and started going through papers Sunset wanted to see a lot, but she had work to do, despite visibility being limited since the sun's light was barely scattering through the sky (and activating the room's lights would be high profile), and time was dwindling.

That moment, as Sunset extracted the bottom-most drawer from the cabinet, was when Shimmer decided to inquire, "What does she mean, 'thieves in the school'?"

From the other side of the office, Octavia clicked her tongue and rhetorically asked, "Omit that part, did you Sunset? What a surprise."

Grimacing, "Ugh," Sunset rested on a side and began working her thin metal into the cabinet's internal back. She glanced up to see a deep frown on Shimmer's face accompanied by crossed arms; it made her return to work in a heartbeat. I like you better when you smile. "Why don't you explain, Councilor? Seems you enjoy meddlesome roles." Sunset spat Octavia's title as the cabinet's back popped out on one corner. That's a false panel if ever I've seen one. Before work could continue, Octavia spat something of her own which made Sunset's blood run cold.

"Why should I help you out of a grave you dug for yourself and jumped into?"

Her question made Sunset's hands shake a little but she worked nonetheless, pried the false back off to reveal a purple folder, snatched it, and stood to come face with an impatient-looking Shimmer who seemed to be trying very hard not to appear upset. Alas, Sunset saw no choice but to explain, so she tried to do just that. It'll be good practice.

"Well, it's a, uh ... Okay, this is going to sound really bad and I'm sorry it slipped my mind, but uhm ... "

"But uhm ... ?" Shimmer urged. Rather than answer by finishing, Sunset opened the folder, placed it on a nearby desk, and pointed since she was afraid to lie again and objects couldn't lie. Hence, Shimmer lifted a brow and gazed at the folder before muttering, "16: 39-4-46, 17: 14-1-52 ... What is-" She whirled toward Sunset. "This is a list of lockers and their combinations! This just 'slipped your mind'? Why do you have something like this?"

Lacking hesitation, Sunset pointed at Octavia and defended, "It's her list! She's the one who recommended I use it to get into Trixie's locker!"

Octavia didn't even glance up from her papers, making two neat stacks, as Shimmer turned to ask, "Is that true?" Harsh, Sunset thought, but I wouldn't believe me either. Without speech, Octavia took one of her stacks, turned away, and jammed it on a shelf. Sunset retrieved her phone from her pocket -- ashamed inside and pondering her recent omission.

Shame only doubled as she looked over the list to locate the general areas for Gilda and Trixie's lockers (she didn't remember the exact numbers) and heard Octavia declare, "You should never trust a thing that monster says, so good on you. But yes, she has nothing to do with any of those lists."

'Monster' being used to describe her did nothing to make Sunset feel better. Shimmer seemed to consider that immediately as she spun with apologetic features which Sunset -- snapping two quick photos of the list and burying herself in the task of replacing it -- only noticed for a second. Nobody spoke after that while work was being done. Octavia left the office with a stack of papers and only broke the quiet to remind them to lock the door on their way out.

Once she was gone, Shimmer started, "Sunset, I-" but got cut off for three reasons; first, Sunset was struggling to replace the false back over the folder (it was a perfect fit to its cramped holder). Second, Sunset was hoping to leave before Trixie arrived in the only exit, and third: Sunset wanted to talk after the operation.

"Don't. I wouldn't trust me either. Let's just go. I'm about-" Sunset cut herself off in the middle of interrupting Shimmer to complete replacing the false back and pushing the drawer back into its original position so everything seemed normal. While Sunset snatched her bag and moved from the filing cabinet, she saw Shimmer's jaw tense as though she was forcing herself not to speak. Job first. Talk after.

They made it outside the room, Sunset pulling the door closed after locking it from the inside, just in time to see Trixie, Gilda, and another student round the hallway's corner leading to the school's front and rush to them. "Get away from that door!" the Lulamoon commanded. Sunset jerked away with both hands raised and a shocked-yet-confused face. "Sunset ... or Sunsets, I should say. Why are you trying to get into that office?"

"Wha- Oh, my bad, Shimmer. I'm fucking tired. That class is on the other side of the school. Seems I made a mistake, Trixie." Strain being worked to sound like fatigue was clear in Sunset's lying face and voice.

Trixie, demanding, "Check inside," glanced at Gilda -- who gave Sunset a hostile glower.

Reaching to try doing as bid, Gilda had to notify, "It's locked." when she failed to turn the handle.

Faking a yawn was easy for Sunset. Halfway through, after all, it became real. Regardless, she spoke fast to excuse her and Shimmer from the situation. "Of course it's locked. We literally just got here. Anyway, we wanna get out of here and continue our morning ASAP, so you do whatever you came to do and we'll be on our way." Her emphasis had obvious impact on Trixie -- evidenced by a swift swallow -- but the magician narrowed her eyes nonetheless. Sunset took three wide steps backward, so to keep observing the trio, before turning to walk away with only her head turned.

Shimmer seemed more than happy to leave possible conflict. Trixie and Gilda, on another note, displayed refusal to buy Sunset's excuse by boring skeptical stares toward the pair, but they didn't move from the office door. I get the feeling Octavia's taken the records you want. The staring contest didn't end until Sunset and Shimmer rounded the next corner into the next hallway.

"What now?" Shimmer questioned as Sunset again retrieved her phone.

"Now we try catching a mistake ... and get ready to run." After a deep breath and a minute of waiting, Sunset leaned beyond the corner whence they came to try getting evidence of one of them breaking into the office and ... she saw all three of them, stationary in front of the door, staring at her like they never stopped. Guess they aren't that dumb.

Gilda began walking her way at the distant visual contact; it made Sunset's heartbeat speed up and her legs push her down the hall which was their escape route. "Time to go." she stated.

Either fiery-haired girl moved at a near jog to the closest side door, but Sunset raised a hand when she saw someone out of the corner of her eye and realized something. Did Octavia say, 'any of those lists'? Dammit! She was too wrapped up in work and shame to really listen to what the councilor was saying. More questions cropped up in her mind as she moved toward the aforementioned someone.

"Hey Lyra!" she called -- causing the girl, who was about to step into a classroom, to wheel her head in surprise.

Once Sunset and Shimmer approached, Sunset prepared to ask something but Lyra beat her to punch and questioned first, "Ugh, you're still here? Didn't you get Octavia's whatever by now?" Huh? Sunset's query changed as Lyra spoke like Octavia never showed up.

"Sorry, we're just leaving, but I was wondering: you let us and Trixie and them in, right?"

Lyra crossed her arms in impatience. "Yeah, and I just got away from the front. That it?"

"Just one more thing," Sunset pressed. "That's ... everybody you let in? Nobody else showed up?"

"No, nobody else showed up, and I've been up front almost this whole time shuffling around." How the Hell did Octavia get in, then? The side doors? Why do that when Lyra could let you in? And how could she know when Trixie and Gilda got in without Lyra knowing she was here, then? Many questions perplexed Sunset, but when Lyra said, "Anything else? I'm busy?" it seemed wrong to try getting any more information.

Instead, hence, Sunset shook her head and led Shimmer to the next nearest side door (she refused to go back toward Gilda). Returning to the cold wasn't fun but Sunset was happy the ordeal was over -- which surprised her considering how much more fulfilling and ... exciting she thought it would be. "Well, that was ... " she tried voicing her dissatisfaction to Shimmer once they were a block from the school; before she found the words, though, Shimmer used a hint of optimistic sarcasm to offer the polar opposite of how Sunset felt.

" ... everything you hoped it would be? And now you're overjoyed to have made Trixie second guess herself?"

"I was going to say, 'disappointing,' but I guess it was also, 'irritating.' Ugh." Sunset groaned. There was a knot forming in her stomach she didn't understand until they arrived back where they met prior. Job's over. Now it's time ... to talk, she realized in growing anxiety. How do I- Do I really just say 'Please help'? She wrestled with phrasing what she wanted for ten seconds of silence before Shimmer provided the perfect opportunity.

"So, I wanted-" the motorcyclist tried mooting something but cut herself off. What's been on your mind? Rather than finish, she ran a hand through her hair, looking not to Sunset but to the road, and asked, "Do you wanna, uh ... meet somewhere? Sugar Cube Corner? A café? Just ... talk for a bit?" She said it so much like she was forcing it out that Sunset was positive it was a cover for something else. However, it was still exactly what Sunset needed to make things easier. All she had to do was accept and ...

No. I'm not putting this off anymore! The sooner I do this, the better.

Gulping down her fear, Sunset opened her mouth, intending to give a concise, unrestrained plea without a single break in her voice -- pride be damned! ... but that wasn't what happened. "A-actually," came out in a stutter causing her to gulp again -- albeit this time it was out of fear.

Please! Mouth, just work! Words didn't come. Instead, she just stood there beginning to shake in anxiety. Her stomach went from being knotted to being violently wrung, she started heaving deep breaths because her chest and throat felt like they were collapsing, and her hands started quivering like a weak, dying animal struggling hopelessly in the inevitability of death.

Shimmer noticed ... because she had working eyes, and very soon frowned in a super-concerned expression. "Sunset," she asked, "Are you okay?"

'No I'm not Okay!' was what Sunset wanted to say -- to scream -- but, "Y-yeah," quavered out in a lie. No! No! I need help! Please, just fucking say, 'I need help'! "I need ... I n-need ... " Good! Now just say 'help'! It's one fucking word! Breath caught -- seized by a contracted diaphragm. Everything seemed to accelerate to a ludicrous velocity. She wanted to cry but something was keeping her. At last, she wheezed out, "h-" and stopped when a single, bone-chilling water droplet landed on her hand.

Panic seeped in and instinct took over. "Think," she exhaled. "I need to think. Later. We'll talk later tonight." She brought a hand to her forehead and passed Shimmer without hesitation. Something brushed against her wrist but pulled away; it didn't matter what it was. All that mattered was getting away, so she could breathe.

What occurred when she got home was breathing -- just in the form of hyperventilating and convulsing in tears.















Later, when Sunset was calm, it was well into the evening (five o' clock) and there had been no further contact with Shimmer. Glancing to her bed, Sunset bit her lip. There were two options: try again with Shimmer tonight or try again with Shimmer tomorrow. Just thinking about sleeping sickened her, so she found her phone and began a text. Maybe I should have her come here. Maybe it would be easier here.

Considering the idea, she shook it off and decided on two things. First, she tried writing out what she wanted to say on a slip of paper for the contingency of speech failing her, but after getting, 'Please help me, I' down she began trying to word what she needed, panicked, started shaking too much to write, and jammed what she wrote into her jacket pocket.

Second, she figured trying Sugar Cube Corner one more time couldn't hurt. If it failed again, she would try inviting Shimmer over -- where there was nowhere to run.

Either way, she knew one thing for certain as she sent a message asking to meet: she couldn't try.

She had to succeed.

Comments ( 6 )

9696407
I gotta use that word more! It's one of the best! :D

1003288
Would that makes this a narcissistic story?:trixieshiftright:

10096827
Not opposed to the idea. I kind of find it interesting and it kind of fits her character. At least the one before the fall formal. I can't wait to see where this goes.
I love reading about Sunsets gains and losses. I like that every gain is temporary and the losses are more permanent. Also, I like the relationship of Octavia and Sunset, but I can't tell if her goal is to help Sunset or destroy Sunset. She acts like it's a bother to deal with Sunset then says something that a friend would say then immediately says something else that makes Sunset hate herself more than when the conversation started. It's really confusing. I know that you explain thus by saying she's self-serving, but I can't help, but ponder what her end goal is.

10096921
Wow, I haven't even personally analyzed things like that; it's kind of strange to realize that someone is interested and excited for something that I made!

Makes me look forward to continuing the work :D

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