One drunken night of science and magic has led Sunset and Twilight to create an artifical human named Dawn that recognizes both girls as her mothers. But the magic powering her can only last so long.
After one night of drunken passion, scientific research, and magic, Sunset and Twilight wake up to discover they built an android. Upon effectively becoming parents, they name their artificial child, Dawn.
But on top of being unprepared for parenthood, Sunset and Twilight learn that Dawn might not be as well put together as they thought.
All magic fades eventually. What happens to Dawn when her spark goes out? While she explores the ups and downs of friendship and love, her mothers struggle with questions of whether or not she's real, and how much are they willing to sacrifice for their artificial daughter?
Sunset Shimmer rolled her tongue around her dry mouth, tasting the bitter remnants of alcohol and cheap pizza. She gagged and smacked her lips, gumming down on something stringy. Cracked her eyes open very slowly, she found herself gazing into a fountain of purple hair, hints of lavender still wafting around it. The longer she clung to the vestiges of consciousness, the more Sunset became aware of her position. She laid across the cold, hard floor of a garage, arms wrapped around her girlfriend, Twilight Sparkle. Her side ached with the revelation, and she slowly pulled herself away and rolled up into a sitting position, leaning against the counter behind her.
Sweet Celestia… Sunset placed a hand against her pounding head and squeezed her eyes shut. How much did I drink last night? The drum parade continued to march through her skull, making concentration on anything other than staying awake a chore. She squinted her eyes open again, thanking her merciful teacher the lights were off.
A slight chill brushed Sunset’s shoulders, and she looked down to realize her top half was covered only by a bra. A lab coat was bundled up no to far away. Sunset assumed she had used it as a pillow at some point in the night. She then noticed Twilight had the opposite problem from her: she was missing her skirt.
Sunset blushed and looked elsewhere. She wasn’t sure why; she had seen Twilight naked before. And if the discarded clothes were anything to indicate…
Twilight groaned and turned over, her arm groping the cement. “Sunset?” she said weakly.
“Right here, baby.”
She groaned again, smacking her lips and sitting up. She scooted back and rested her head against Sunset’s shoulder. “Why did I let you talk me into this?” she said, her voice filled with overdramatic misery. “I know alcohol consumption is toxic for your body. Why did I drink anything at all? Why did I keep drinking?”
Sunset gave her a peck on the cheek. “Admit it, you had fun.”
Twilight dug her face deeper into Sunset’s side. “I would if I could remember what we even did. I’m amazed we even made it back to my garage.”
Shapes and outlines took form as Sunset’s eyes adjusted to the dark. She could make out some of the machines Twilight had built, charts, boards, and boxes of equipment scattered throughout the spacious room. With various scrap pieces and papers littering the floor, it looked messier than usual. The sharp pain in Sunset’s frontal lobe still prevented her from thinking too hard about what had happened the night before.
“I remember both of us being really excited about something,” Twilight said. “Wanting to make something I think.”
Sunset rested her head against Twilight’s. “I don’t know. My body hates me right now.” She swallowed and gagged at the sticky dryness in her throat. “Give me a sec to get adjusted and I’ll get us some water.”
“And some Advil,” Twilight whined. “I’m never drinking again.”
“That’s what they all say.”
The door to the kitchen opened, releasing a soft light, though Sunset still hissed and recoiled. She braced herself for the garage light to come on, or to be scolded by Shining or Twilight’s parents. Instead, the kitchen light faded away, and she heard something soft but metallic clanking across the floor, along with automatous whirring and clicking. Sunset raised her head, staring straight into a pair of fluorescent teal eyes, the same shade as hers. She winced and quickly looked away.
“Good morning, Mother Units,” a young, female voice said. It was light and cheery, though it carried a robotic undertone. “The time now is nine o’clock. As requested, I have come to deliver your morning wake up call.” The teal eyes flashed an emerald green, and Sunset heard a light scanning noise. “It appears you are both low on hydration, reaching only fifty percent of optimum levels. Would you like water?”
Sunset looked up again, trying not to meet the bright eyes. She saw the silhouette of what looked like a young girl who happened to be wearing her shirt and Twilight’s skirt. “Uuuh, yes?”
“Affirmative. I shall return with refreshments.” The clicking and whirring started again, and the girl returned to the kitchen.
Twilight and Sunset sat in the quiet dark. “Sunset… what was that?”
“I don’t know.”
The door opened again, making Sunset’s eyes water and sting. “Here you are, Mother Units.” The girl held out a tray with two cups of water.
Twilight, mouth hanging open, stared for a moment before slowly taking a cup. “Thank you?”
“You are welcome, Mother Unit Alpha. Please, Mother Unit Beta, you should drink as well. Your hydration levels are still below average percentages.”
Sunset realized the ‘girl’ was talking to her and took the remaining glass. A new wave of pain washed over her head, and she tipped the glass back, trying to save the cool refreshment restoring moisture to her throat while figuring out if she was dreaming or not.
“Your hydration levels are still low. I will retrieve more water. I am also preparing breakfast for the Mother Units, as is per custom after sleep and sexual intercourse.” The ‘girl’ turned and exited to the kitchen. This time Sunset could smell waffles and eggs.
“Guh?” Twilight said, still holding her water.
Sunset mentally agreed with her. “I’m guessing that wasn’t one of your cousins.”
Twilight shook her head. “She called us… mother units? And she sounded…”
“Like a robot?”
“Guh.” Twilight stared off into space, her glasses still askew from sleeping on her side. She took a long sip of her water, swished in her mouth before swallowing, and took a deep breath. “Sunset, what did we do?”
Sunset pressed the cold glass against her forehead, sighing at her ebbing headache. “This is going to sound insane… but I think we made a child.”
Said child walked in again carrying two more cups of water. “Your morning breakfast has been prepared, Mother Units. I have also supplied more water.” She presented the tray once more.
Eyes fully adjusted to the light, Sunset made out all of the child’s features. She looked like a very young teenager with purple hair that matched Twilight’s save for a red and gold patch up front. It was pulled back by a headband and hung down the small of her back, transitioning from purple to the colors of dawn. Her skin was a shade lighter than Sunset’s and looked impossibly smooth save for the mechanical grooves running across her. Two ran from her eyes down across her cheeks, and several ran along her neck.
The robot girl blinked, making a soft click as her eyelids closed, and cocked her head. “Is something the matter, Mother Unit Beta?”
“Uhhh… n-no. Um…” Sunset quickly grabbed the other glass of water and chugged it like the first. It felt too real and refreshing to be a dream. She nudged Twilight to stop staring, and she too took the second glass.
“For breakfast, I have prepared waffles, eggs, and a spread of fruit. Three basic food groups are provided. Calorie count is minimal.” Sunset noticed her eyes flashed with every word. “My memory banks have told me that Mother Unit Beta is a vegetarian. In response, no meat products were used for this meal. However, I can prepare bacon if Mother Unit Alpha would like some?”
Twilight kept the rim of her new glass pressed against her lip. “N-no, that, uh, won’t be necessary.”
“Very well. I shall go feed the dog Spike.” She smiled, showing off two flat white bars.
After she left again, Sunset used the table to pull herself up, helping Twilight to her feet as well. Twilight slumped over it, dropping the glasses and throwing her hands over her head. “Is that… did we really… how did we… in one night?”
“Yes, yes, I don’t know, and apparently,” Sunset said, massaging away the last of her headache. “I guess when we said we wanted to make something, it was—”
“A child!” Twilight flinched at her own volume. “We made an actual, apparently fully functional, artificial human! And it thinks we’re its mothers!” She started hyperventilating, fanning her heart with her hand. “I can’t believe this. This is amazing! This is terrifying! This defies all logic!”
“I’m pretty sure magic was involved somewhere.” Sunset fingered the gem necklace dangling around her throat. Perhaps it was because the hangover was still too great, or because Twilight was already freaking out, but Sunset couldn’t bring herself into a panic just yet. She knew the dream option was out, but the situation still seemed so ridiculous. They built an automaton? Even in Equestria, that was overly advanced stuff.
She put her hands on Twilight’s shoulders to stop her from shaking. “Sparky, baby, calm down. It’s gonna be fine.”
Twilight took great gulps of air and slowed her breathing. “Sunset,” she said in a panicked whisper, “we’ve done what scientists have been trying to do for years! We did it in a night! And now our… our…” She started trembling again as she forced the words out. “Our daughter is in the next room making us breakfast! Oh God, we have a daughter! Oh God, her first impression of us is being hungover! We’ve only been doing this for five minutes and we’re already terrible parents! We’re parents! We can’t be parents, we’re not even married! We just started college!”
“Twilight, this is the opposite of calming down.”
“How can you be calm right now? We built an android with a fully functional and self-aware AI!”
Sunset gripped Twilight’s shoulders harder. “Because if I think about it too long, my headache comes back. I know this is big. Like, really big. But freaking out over it isn’t going to help us. Let’s go in there, eat, see how it… she functions, and try to remember how we even got to this point.”
Twilight slowed her breathing again and started to nod her head. “Okay. Okay. You’re right. Calming down. I just… I can’t believe it.”
Sunset moved her hands down to Twilight’s and she rubbed her palms. “It’s gonna be all right. I promise.” She kissed Twilight on the nose and led her into the kitchen. Upon entering into the light that came in through the windows and the backyard screen door, Sunset’s eyes wailed in pain, and the spike returned to the center of her skull.
The girls eased their way to the dining room table where two plates had been set out for them. Spike munched on his kibbles off to the side, raising his head out of the bowl as the girls sat down. “Looks like your mad science experiment worked.”
Twilight rubbed her forehead, eyeing her food with a slight green in her cheeks. “Spike, do you know what we did last night?”
Spike shrugged as well as a dog could. “The basics. You girls came barging in, giggling and going on about how you wanted to make a baby or something.” Twilight let out a mortified groan. “Then you went into the garage and were working all night. I got bored really fast, so I went to sleep. But it looks like you did it.”
Sunset poked at her eggs, trying to get her appetite up. “Well, there goes our only reliable source of last night’s activities.” She picked a piece of her scrambled egg up. It was fluffy and well-seasoned. It certainly looked appetizing. Her stomach, however, readied an assault if she dared try to pass it down her throat.
Their cybernetic creation walked in, and Sunset realized she was barefoot. In this better light, Sunset saw this girl was extremely well put together. There were no wires showing, her joints were perfectly attached, and her metal skin shone in the morning sunlight. How the hell did we make her hair? Sunset thought, watching it catch a soft breeze.
She looked at their full plates and frowned. Sunset could actually see concern in her optic eyes. “Are my mother units dissatisfied with my cooking?”
Sunset rapidly shook her head. “No, no, it’s not that. We’re just… still recovering from last night. It looks great.”
Twilight forced a forkful of eggs into her mouth. She chewed thoughtfully, giving a genuine smile before her cheeks bulged for a quick second. She strained herself to swallow, following it with a deep breath. “The eggs are wonderful… um…” She and Sunset locked eyes, passing a note of uncertainty.
Sunset cleared her throat. “Sweetheart, forgive your moms, they’ve had a long night. But…” Sunset bit her lip, but knew there was no unkind way around this. “What’s your name?”
The girl blinked slowly, staring at both girls. Her eyes then turned purple, matching Twilight’s, and a light beeping could be heard from her head. Her eyes turned teal again. “Familiar name not found,” she said, her voice more metallic than before.
Twilight pulled down the sides of her face. “We did all of this and didn’t give her a name. We are horrible parents.”
Sunset had no argument this time. Surely a name would have come up sometime last night. Robot or not, they had to call the girl something. Sunset looked her up and down. How did one name a child? Was it like naming a pet?
“Dawn!” Twilight blurted out. She saw the inquisitive Sunset gave her. “Look at her hair. It looks like the sky before dawn.”
The feature had caught Sunset’s attention before, but it felt a little on the nose. At the same time, she could see the poetry in it. “Okay then.” She looked at the girl. “How about it? Do you want to be called Dawn?”
Her eyes turned purple again, and the beeping returned. “Registration complete.” She closed her eyes and smiled. “Hello, my name is Dawn! Nice to meet you, Mother Units!” Her voice returned to its normal cheery synthetic tone.
“We should probably do something about that ‘mother unit’ thing later,” Sunset whispered to Twilight. “So, Dawn, what do you like to do?”
Dawn placed a finger on her mouth as she thought. “I like books. I like spending time with my friends and mother units.”
Sunset put a hand to her forehead. “Yep, she’s definitely ours.”
“Why don’t you go up to my room and read?” Twilight suggested.
Dawn gave a single nod and smiled again. “Okay, Mother Unit Alpha.” She turned and headed upstairs, almost skipping up the steps.
Sunset frowned. “How come you get to be alpha?”
Twilight ignored her. “Spike, why don’t you go keep her company?”
Spike raised an eyebrow. “You mean spy on her?”
“Just do it.”
“Fine,” Spike grumbled. “But she gives me the creeps. Her scent is all weird. Makes my nose itch.” He trotted up the stairs after Dawn. The girls looked at their plates of food, poking them in silence.
While Sunset could keep her panic down, confusion roiled in her stomach with the leftover alcohol. “Oh boy, we’ve done it this time.”
“We built her,” Twilight said, dazed again. “How did we build her. Why did we build her? What’s she capable of?”
Sunset stood from the table. As much as she wanted to eat the food Dawn had painstakingly made for them, her stomach wouldn’t allow it. “We have to have made some notes. Let’s check the garage and piece this together.”
Twilight stood up and froze, her cheeks turning red. “I’m not wearing pants.” She looked down, her face burning brighter. “Oh my God, my daughter’s seen me in my underwear!”
Sunset bit the inside of her cheek, trying not to laugh. “Look on the bright side: at least you’re not wearing the thong.”
Letting out another mortified groaned, Twilight quickly buttoned up her lab coat. “I’ve had bad ideas and I’ve had really bad ideas. This was a really bad idea!” She followed Sunset back to the garage and flipped the lights on, revealing the mess to be a lot more extensive than Sunset had first thought.
Some of Twilight’s other inventions had been gutted for parts, leaving pieces all across the floor along with tools, papers, bottles of hard cider, and an empty pizza box. Sunset picked up the nearest paper, finding a poor drawing of Dawn.
Twilight walked over to her desk and picked up a set of notes. She squinted through her glasses and turned the paper over in her hands. “I can’t believe it… this handwriting is barely legible!”
Sunset walked over to a board where a crude schematic had been drawn in chalk. The lines were squiggly and uneven, and the words were cramped together. “Horsefeathers. It’s like two completely different people were here last night.”
They went around the room, gathering all of the papers and compiling them into a neat pile. They poured over them, trying to decipher the drunken handwriting and pictures made by their past selves. Aside from some basic outlines and a few words, progress proved near impossible.
Twilight flipped the page and gasped. “Sunset look!”
From all the trouble it has caused, the drawing was easily recognizable. A modified version of Twilight’s magic sucking amulet took up the center of the page with various notes scribbled around it. One word that Sunset could make out was ‘core.’
“Please tell me we weren’t dumb enough to remake this thing and stick it in a robot,” Sunset said in monotone.
“I think we did,” Twilight said, flipping the page. The next illustration showed the amulet in the center of Dawn.
Sunset dropped her head against the desk. “Drunk and stupid. I now understand every teenage drama movie. What do we do with a magic sucking robot?”
Twilight kept flipping through the notes. “Well, she doesn’t seem dangerous.”
“Isn’t that what you thought about the first magic device?”
She winced. “Fair point. But, even while under the influence of alcohol, I think I would be smart enough not to make the same mistake twice, especially with you helping me.”
Sunset rested her chin on top of her hands. “Sure, but until we can read this mess, we can’t prove that.”
“Well, what are we supposed to do in the meantime, shut her down?” Their eyes met, and a profound silence dragged out between them.
“I mean, she’s… just a robot, right?” The words slowly poured out of Sunset’s mouth like molasses. “She… it won’t feel anything, right?”
Twilight dropped the papers and pressed her hands to her head. “She smiled. She looked at us and smiled. She called us her moms.”
“It could just be in her programming.” Sunset’s heart couldn’t buy into her words. Magic had been involved, meaning this robot was possibly something more. “I’m sure we didn’t mean to make her dangerous, but we don’t know what she can do with this thing as a core. Until we can figure things out, let’s just turn her off.”
Twilight didn’t vocally respond. She barely nodded her head but allowed Sunset to take her by the hand. They walked upstairs, tiptoeing past Twilight’s parent’s room and into Twilight’s. Dawn sat on the bed, quickly flipping through a book. Spike laid on the other side of the room, watching her carefully.
Dawn looked up as the girls walked in, closing the door behind them. “Hello, Mother Units,” she said chipperly. “Mother Unit Alpha, you have a vast collection of books to read.” She held up the one she was currently engrossed it. “This one is about space. I have learned that I like space.”
Twilight put her hands together. “That’s great, Dawn.” She smiled, and Sunset could see the hesitation beginning to take hold. Looking at Dawn’s innocent smile, the smile of someone just learning about all the marvels of the world, Sunset could feel her own hesitation rising.
On top of that was just a slight hint of annoyance. “Seriously, why do you get to be alpha?” Twilight nudged her in the ribs. “What? I wanna know how that got established.”
Twilight went back to ignoring her, and Sunset had a good idea that it had been her design. They watched Dawn finish her book, spending only a handful of seconds on each page. She set it down and turned her wide eyes on the girls.
“I have finished reading. Would my mother units like to engage in a family activity?”
Hesitation hit Sunset in full force this time. It… she… it’s just a robot. Just turn her off. But those eyes. Magic lived in those eyes; not just sparkling energy and pixie dust but the magic of life. A consciousness.
“Um… Dawn,” Twilight said gingerly, “what is your primary function?”
Sunset stared wide-eyed at Twilight, her heart constricting. Did Dawn know she wasn’t human?
Dawn tilted her head. “I do not have a primary function. One was not assigned to me upon initialization.”
After a quick sigh of relief, Sunset shot a glare at Twilight. She knew her girlfriend’s social interaction skills were still a work in progress, but Twilight could have shown a little more tact.
Okay, so she knows she’s… not human. Not sure if that’s good or bad yet. But we didn’t give her a protocol. So why did we make her?
“My mother units seem troubled. They are producing minimal amounts of the average serotonin levels.” Dawn stood up and took Sunset and Twilight’s hands into each of her own. “Are my mother units sad?”
The metal alloy that acted as her skin was cool, but not cold and unfriendly. Just beneath Dawn’s metal fingers, Sunset could feel something stirring, almost like a heartbeat.
Sunset understood then. They hadn’t just made a robot. While it was still mechanical and synthetic, they had done the impossible.
They had made a soul.
One look into Twilight’s eyes told Sunset she had come to the same conclusion. Tears threaten to fall down her face as Twilight knelt down and wrapped her arms around Dawn.
“No, sweetie. We’re very, very happy you’re here.”
Sunset had read and studied a lot. She knew every field of magic, an abundance of science, math, history, and even random pop culture trivia. But none of her research had prepared her for what to do when she had a child, let alone an android child.
Questions about how she and Twilight made Dawn and whether or not she could be dangerous buzzed in her head, but she forced them to take a backseat to the bigger question of: what did they do with her? She sat next to Dawn on Twilight’s bed, while Twilight paced the floor.
“Okay, mom and dad can’t see this. They’d flip! I’m too young to bring home a child—not that I’m not happy you’re here, Dawn,” Twilight added for the fourth time in her monologue. “But I don’t how to explain magic and science of this level to them! Or to anyone else for that matter! What if we bring her out in public?”
“Gonna be honest,” Sunset said, “in my time here, people have acted… pretty casually about the existence of magic, taking dogs, and parallel universes made up of talking ponies. I think robot girl will barely get people to bat an eye, especially if we tell them we built her.”
Twilight paused, a faraway look in her eye. “Wow. You’re right. People are really nonchalant about the supernatural around here. But what about my parents?”
Sunset shrugged. “They don’t have to know Dawn’s half magic. You’re their prodigy kid; I’m sure they’d believe you if you just told them we built her from scratch.” Twilight opened her mouth, but Sunset beat her to the punch. “And it’s technically not lying because we did build her, we just don’t know how.”
Dawn followed the conversation, eyes following Twilight as she paced across the floor. Her mouth turned down and she lowered her head. “Am I… causing complications for Mother Unit Alpha?”
“No!” Twilight jumped over and hugged her. “No, no, no, of course not! You’re just… such a surprise, we’re not sure how to break it to everyone else yet.”
“Glad to see those maternal instincts are already kicking it,” Sunset said with a smirk.
Twilight glared at her over Dawn’s shoulder. “I just happened to have read a few parenting books. When coupled with animal behavior guides, they became very handy for raising Spike.”
Sunset looked over at Spike who only shrugged. “Explains a few things,” Sunset mused. “Look, she can’t sit in your room forever. Let’s just take her out and see what happens. Besides…” She moved over and cupped Dawn’s face. “She looks just like us. And how can you say no to a face this cute?” She realized the hint of irony in her sentence, and locked away their initial idea of turning Dawn off to see how she operated.
Dawn’s smile returned. “Mother Unit Beta called me cute. I am pleased.”
Sunset’s face fell. “Seriously, how did I end up as beta?”
Twilight helped Dawn to her feet, grinning superiorly at Sunset. “Come on, beta, let’s go show Dawn her grandparents.” Her face paled. “Oh, this won’t end well.”
Dawn took her hand. “Do not worry, Mother Unit Alpha, everything will be fine. I am excited to meet my alpha grandparental units.” She pulled Twilight along, making a series of higher pitched sound bytes that Sunset recognized as an attempt at giggling.
The trio moved down the hall, and Twilight knocked on her parent’s door. “Mom, Dad. I… umm… have something… someone you should meet.”
In the long interim, Sunset wondered if they would have been better off just making a break for it. But the door opened, and the robed figures of Twilight Velvet and Night Light appeared in the threshold.
“Morning, sweetie,” Velvet said after a short yawn. “What time did… you two… get… home?” Her eyes fell onto Dawn. “Umm… what is this?”
“Hello, Grandmother Unit, I am Dawn. It is nice to meet you.” She stuck her hand out. “It is customary to shake hands upon greeting new people. Or would a hug be deemed more appropriate?”
Night stared in open-mouthed awe. “It talks.”
When Velvet didn’t respond to Dawn’s outstretched hand, she turned to Night. “Greetings, Grandfather Unit. Your assessment is correct. I have been programmed with an extensive vocabulary.”
Velvet blinked. “She’s calling us… grandparents.” She turned her confused gaze to Twilight and Sunset. “Care to explain?”
Twilight put her hands on Dawn’s shoulders. “This is Dawn. Sunset and I built her, and we kinda sorta programmed her to be our… daughter,” she finished in a tiny voice.
“You… built her?” Night repeated. “When? How?”
“Last night in the garage,” Sunset said.
“In one night?” Velvet asked, dumbfounded. “I know you girls are smart but…” She shook her head. “Why did you program her to be your daughter?”
Twilight and Sunset both rubbed their shoulders and laughed, muttering out half sentences.
Night raised a skeptical eyebrow, but smiled regardless. He finally took Dawn’s outstretched hand. “Well, it’s nice to meet you, Dawn.”
“It is nice to meet you as well, Grandfather Unit,” she said, eyes seeming to brighten at her handshake finally being acknowledged.
“Please, you can just call me, grandpa,” he said with a playful smirk.
“I guess you can call me grandma then,” Velvet said. Her eyes went wide, seeming to come out of her trance. “I’m a grandma…. I’m a grandma! I mean, it’s not the way I expected it, and I thought Shining would bring me kids first! But welcome to the family, Dawn! Oh, let me get a camera!” She ran back into the room.
Night leaned forward, stroking his chin. “She seems incredibly self-aware. Like, next generation sort of technology. What software did you use to program her?”
Dawn opened her mouth, but as much as Sunset wanted to hear the answer, she covered Dawn up, certain she already knew.
“Oh, you know. We just modified some existing software and enhanced her response potential.” Sunset grinned widely, hoping Dawn wasn’t programmed to only be honest.
Velvet came back, camera in hand. “Okay, family picture!” She looked over Sunset and Twilight, and frowned. “Sweetie, go put some longer pants on, it looks like you’re barely wearing anything. And Sunset, go put a shirt on.”
Twilight pulled down on the ends of her lab coat and laughed, backing up into her room. Sunset followed her, covering her bra with her arms.
“They seem to be taking it well,” Sunset said, catching the shirt Twilight tossed at her.
“Every parent wants grandkids, I guess.” Twilight pulled a new skirt on and relaxed her shoulders. “That’s better. I would like to reiterate that I am never drinking again.” They found Dawn and her new grandparents had moved downstairs into the living room. After fixing up their hair so it wasn’t completely obvious they had slept in the garage, Twilight and Sunset moved in for the picture.
Dawn stood between them, holding both of their hands and smiling brightly. Sunset looked down at her, unable to resist smiling as well. As weird as the situation was, as sudden and unprecedented having a child seemed, something about it felt right.
“That’s it, girls, big smiles!” Velvet said, holding the camera up. As the flash went off, Sunset heard Dawn giggle again.
******
After a few more pictures, Sunset and Twilight’s appetites had returned, and they settled down for the breakfast Dawn had prepared for them. Sunset couldn’t figure out where Dawn’s impressive cooking skills had come from, as she herself was okay at best, and Twilight, for all her intelligence, had never bothered to learn how to cook anything that couldn’t be popped into the microwave.
While they ate, Night and Velvet sat with Dawn on the couch, asking her basic questions. Sunset hoped they kept it that way, wanting to downplay Dawn’s intellect. Magic doubtlessly influenced her processing power, and Sunset wouldn’t be surprised if she and Twilight had tried to cram as much knowledge into her as possible.
“So, Dawn, how old are you?” Night asked.
“I have three hours logged into my active status.” When and Night and Velvet giggled, she tilted her head. “Oh, did you mean my designated age? I am designed to be fourteen years old.”
“Fourteen, huh?” Velvet mused. “So, do you know what you want to be when you grow up?”
“I do not believe I was designed to age. Nor was I given a primary function.”
Their smiles became a little more awkward. “Well, that just means you can be anything you want to be,” Night said.
Sunset leaned across the table toward Twilight. “This is cute. But is this getting a little weird?”
Twilight nodded. “This is getting a little weird. But what do we do now? We promised to meet up with the girls in a couple of hours.”
“Oh great, that’ll help things.” Sunset pressed a hand to her forehead. “At least we can tell them the full story.”
“You mean you want to take Dawn with us?”
Sunset looked over Twilight’s shoulder to the couch. “Would you rather we leave our magical robot offspring here with your unsuspecting parents?”
“Well argued.” They finished breakfast and got cleaned up, taking separate showers so one of them could keep an eye on Dawn at all times. They also gave her a new set of clothes so she wasn’t walking around the mall in her parent’s dirty shirt and skirt. She wore a simple blue dress that matched her eyes, and an old pair of sandals they found after rummaging deep into Twilight’s closet. They were the only footwear that fit Dawn.
As Sunset slipped her boots on, a thought froze her in place. “Twilight, how are going to get there?”
Twilight slipped her jacket on. “We’ll take your motorcycle like we always…” Her eyes moved over to Dawn. “Oh… uhhh…” On top of not learning how to cook, Twilight had also not obtained her driver’s license yet. She cleared her throat. “Mom, can we borrow the car?”
Velvet briefly mulled it over, then reached into her pocket and tossed her keys to Sunset. “Please be careful.”
“Pinkie promise,” Sunset said, catching the keys. They marched out the front door, Sunset keeping a hand on Dawn’s shoulder. “It’s a good thing we made her old enough to not need a car seat.”
It was a short drive to the mall, but Sunset took extra precaution using Velvet’s small car. She took a deep breath as she put it into park. Breaking the news to their friends wouldn't be as awkward as telling Twilight’s parents, but it would still be one heck of a bombshell.
Dawn got out of the car and marveled at the sight of the mall’s reflective glass front. Sunset followed her gaze and flinched at the sharp glare the sun threw at her. Apparently, harsh light didn’t register to Dawn.
“This is my first time going to the mall,” she said. “I shall log this as an important moment. I am excited to go inside and shop.” She looked at Sunset. “Will you buy something nice for me, Mother Unit Beta? I have been well-behaved.”
Not if you keep calling me that. Sunset cracked a smile. “Sure, sweetie, I’ll buy you some of your own clothes. First, you have to meet all your aunties.” She saw Twilight flash a smug grin, and lightly punched her shoulder when Dawn wasn’t looking.
Finding their friends wasn’t hard, not with Pinkie jumping up and down next to their table. Her frantic waving and gesturing slowed as Sunset, Twilight, and Dawn approached. Five pairs of eyes briefly looked at the couple before falling to the young girl next to them. A long pause greeted the trio as they stopped at the table.
Applejack waved a hand to ease some of the tension. “Uh, hey, you two. Ah see you’ve… got someone there with you.”
“Hello, my name is Dawn, insert-familiar-name.” Dawn stuck her hand out. Her voice dropped to a metallic monotone when she couldn’t give Applejack a proper name.
Rainbow’s mouth fell open. “Is that a robot?”
Pinkie poked her a few times in the cheek. “She feels like a robot.”
“I think this is invading my personal space,” Dawn said.
Mouth still hanging open, Rainbow looked up at the girls. “When did you build a robot?”
“How did y’all build a robot?” Applejack added.
“What on earth were you thinking?” Rarity said aghast. “That dress might work with her eyes, but it’s clashing with her hair! She is adorable though.”
“Okay, from the top,” Sunset said, making gestures with her hands. “Twilight and I went to a little party last night and had a few too many drinks. Somehow, we made it home and… well… we built Dawn here. We’re not one-hundred percent sure how. We were drunk off our as—butt,” she said quickly. No more liberal cursing for a while. “So, any notes we have are mostly illegible nonsense. From what we can gather, we sorta made a newer version of Twilight’s amulet from the Friendship Games and powered it with some magic from our gemstones.”
Silence followed after Sunset’s explanation, broken only by Twilight adding, “She’s our daughter.”
Even with the background noise of other shoppers and mindless mall music, the silence from their friends intensified.
Applejack recovered first, working her jaw for a bit before saying, “Let me get this straight. Y’all got drunk, and instead of going at it like jackrabbits like normal people, you went and built a robot in one night that runs on magic, and you decided to call it your daughter?”
“I think her being our daughter was the original idea behind making her, but yeah, that’s the gist of it,” Sunset said.
Applejack took her hat off and rubbed her temples. “Well, all things considered… this still isn’t the strangest thing to happen to us.”
“Are you kidding!” Pinkie wrapped her arms around Dawn and pressed their cheeks together, shivering at the touch. “This is the greatest thing to happen to us! Sunset and Twilight are mommies! I have a new friend to babysit! I can be her babysitter, right? Huh, can I, please?” She stuck her bottom lip out and gave her best puppy-dog eyes.
“Mother Units, this woman is hugging me without my permission. Should I activate my sexual assault alarm?” Dawn asked.
“We gave her an alarm for that?” Sunset looked at Twilight. “We had a lot of foresight for being wasted.”
Twilight gently pulled Pinkie away from Dawn. “Yes, Pinkie, you can babysit her if needed. Dawn, these are your aunts. This is Pinkie Pie, Applejack, Rarity, Rainbow Dash, and Fluttershy.” Twilight gestured to each of them in turn.
Dawn’s eyes turned purple and she focused on each face. “Registrations complete.” She smiled. “Hello, Aunties, it is nice to formally make your acquaintance.”
“My, she’s well-behaved,” Rarity said. “I wonder who she gets that from.” She gave Sunset a smug smile.
“Hey, I’m polite. Most of the time.”
“That’s all well and good,” Applejack said, “but do you think she should be out in public like this? It feels risky.”
Sunset scoffed. “Like I told Twilight, the people around here have seen angels, demons, plant monsters, and portals to other dimensions. No one’s going to bat an eye at a robot. Especially since we built her.”
“Is she safe?” Fluttershy said softly, speaking up for the first time.
It was Twilight and Sunset’s turn to be silent. Twilight reached into her purse and pulled out a twenty, handing it to Dawn. “Pinkie, why don’t you take Dawn to buy something fun. Dawn, be good for Aunt Pinkie.”
“Oh boy!” Pinkie took Dawn’s hand. “We’re gonna have so much fun!”
“Thank you, Mother Unit Alpha.” She walked away, taking quick steps to keep up with Pinkie’s skips. Her optic lenses managed to look a little apprehensive.
Rainbow grinned and raised an eyebrow. “So how come Twilight's the alpha?”
“Shut up, Dash,” Sunset said.
Applejack snapped her fingers. “Hey, Fluttershy asked a question and a valid one at that. You know Ah trust you two, but y’all weren’t in the right state of mind when you made it… her. So, is she safe?”
Twilight raised a hand a wiggled it back and forth. “Probably?”
Applejack gave her famous eyebrow raise.
“Like we said, our notes are mostly illegible. We know we used a modified version of my amulet as her core, and it’s fueled by magic, but I also know I’m not dumb enough to make the same mistake twice, not with Sunset around. I’m ninety-nine point nine percent positive she’s not going to go around sucking up magic.”
“And the point one percent?”
Twilight looked down at her shoes. “That’s the small variable for us not being sure why we made her apart for wanting a child in a heated spur of the moment.”
A growl of disapproval came from Applejack’s throat, but she said, “Ah trust you two. But until proven otherwise, Ah’m keepin’ my guard up.” She put her hands on her hips. “Besides, y’all aren’t even married; why did you want a kid?”
“Again, heat of the moment,” Sunset said.
Rarity pulled up two more chairs and gestured for Sunset and Twilight to finally sit down. “The biggest question now is: are you even ready to take care of a child, robot teenager or otherwise? We just started college. You’re taking on a whole new responsibility.”
Sunset fidgeted with her hands, keeping her eyes on the table. “I mean, other couples do it. And we don’t even have to go through the whole birthing and changing diapers and terrible twos phase. We could just let Dawn go to Canterlot High while we’re at the university. I mean…” A cold lump landed in her stomach. “We might have to spend less time with you guys…”
“Hey, you just said we were her aunts,” Rainbow said. “Which means it’s my job to be the coolest aunt. Which means she, and by extension, you, are going to be seeing a lot of me.”
Rarity giggled. “You know what they say. ‘It takes a village to raise a child.’ And if we set her up with our sisters, I’m sure we’ll find plenty of time to spend together.”
Twilight beamed and wiped a tear from her eye. “You girls are the best.”
Dawn opened her eyes, processing the beige ceiling above her as she exited sleep mode. She sat up, stretched, and activated her yawn protocol. It wasn’t necessary, but it seemed like fun. She climbed out of her bed, feet touching the carpet of the guest bedroom. Her somatic transmitters registered it as soft. Her internal clock told her it was precisely 6:30 A.M, meaning there was only one hour and thirty minutes until the school day started.
Her short-term organizational planner booted up and created a designated list of activities to complete within the time frame. The first task was to change out of her pajamas and into appropriate school clothes. All of her aunts had contributed to the purchase of clothes for her. Dawn’s pajamas were pink with yellow duck patterns. Wearing them had caused her to come to the realization that she liked ducks. They were cute.
She carefully picked through her bags of assorted clothes, using her fashion protocol to pick something aesthetically pleasing. She settled on a dark purple shirt, jeans and sneakers. Looking in the mirror, she thought she fit the high schooler image.
The second item on her list was to wake up her mother units. Yesterday’s conversation ran back through her processor, and she remembered her new designations for her mother units. Mother Unit Alpha would be shortened to just Mother, while Mother Unit Beta would be called Mom. Dawn thought it redundant to use different variations of the same word, but if that was what her mother units wanted, then so be it.
She exited her room and walked down the hallway, still steeped in the lightless early morning gloom. Her mechanical joints clicked, breaking the silence. She knocked on her mother’s door and waited patiently, standing perfectly still until it opened. Her mother’s hair looked very unkempt.
“Good morning, Dawn,” Twilight said through a yawn.
“Good morning, Mother. School begins in one hour and nineteen minutes. If we are to make it with enough time for me to properly enroll, you and Mom should begin your morning preparations.”
Twilight wearily nodded. “Right. Don’t worry, we’ll make it in time.”
Dawn ran a bioscan of her mother, processing the results within seconds. “Your nutrition level is low after sleeping. Should I make you breakfast?”
Twilight waved her hands. “No, sweetie, it’s fine. Sunset and I should be making you breakfast anyway. Just give us a few minutes. Why don’t you read a book in the meantime?”
“Request acknowledged.” Dawn let her mother prepare for the day and returned to her room. She picked up another astronomy book and began reading through it. The concept of stars, planets, and the ever-expanding universe often created more questions than answers, but Dawn found all of it fascinating. She had been programmed with a basic understanding in all fields but desired to learn more.
She had progressed halfway through the book before her mother units requested that she come downstairs. Upon entering the kitchen, she found a backpack decorated with stars sitting on a chair. Logic dictated it was for her. Inside, she found several notebooks, folders, pens, and pencils. Standard equipment for learning.
“I can’t believe today’s your first day of school!” Twilight gushed. “You’re going to have so much fun and make so many friends! Look how cute she is, Sunset!”
Sunset drummed her fingers on her chin. “She’s missing something. A little flare…” She snapped her fingers. “Duh!” She pulled her leather jacket off the coat rack and handed it down to Dawn. “Here, wear this.”
Dawn took the jacket, feeling the smooth material between her fingers. She slipped it on; the sleeves came halfway down her elbow joints and the coat extended to her navel.
“There! Now you look cute and cool!” Sunset said, crossing her arms in satisfaction.
Researching…. Cool: multiple meanings. Moderate temperature between hot and cold, or, a modern slang term to refer to a person’s calm or collected composure. Logic dictates Mom is using the latter. Cute: attractive in a dainty way, preciously pretty. Dawn found the terms appealing, but thought they had a slight contradiction to them. However, she just smiled at the praise. “Does this mean I am ready for school?”
Twilight opened the fridge. “Do you want anything to eat before you go?”
“I am not programmed to consume edible substances.”
Twilight and Sunset blinked at one another. “Oh,” Twilight said, closing the fridge. “Of course. Well then, let’s go; don’t want you to be late on your first day.”
Dawn hoisted her new backpack over her shoulders and headed outside. Checking her external temperature scans, Dawn found it was a cool sixty degrees, appropriate for early spring. Green lawns and budding flowers greeted her eyes, complemented by the sky above, gaining its blue shine from the rising sun. Sensations whirred within Dawn as she processed everything. One in particular stood out. She had felt it when her mother units smiled at her.
Joy.
Yes. Dawn smiled to herself. The world is a beautiful place.
They borrowed Grandma Velvet’s car again. Dawn gazed out the window, examining the surrounding neighborhood, cataloging the different types of trees and bushes and birds they passed by, and memorizing the path back home, just in case.
“Does this mean I have to trade my motorcycle in?” Sunset asked in a quiet tone. “We can’t keep borrowing your mom’s car.”
“Well, seeing as I don’t want Dawn riding on the back of that thing, yes, I think so,” Twilight said.
“I really don’t like how quickly you answered that.”
“I’m just thinking about Dawn. And you asked!”
“I was hoping you’d at least consider the idea of—”
“My daughter is not riding on the back of a motorcycle!”
“Her mother did it all the time! And her other mother drove it! Besides, think of how cool she’ll look when the other kids see her coming and leaving school.”
“Sunset Shimmer, I swear to science, if I catch Dawn on the back of that bike…”
Something negative sparked in Dawn’s core, and she registered it as concern. “Are mother units fighting?”
Twilight whipped her head back. “No, no, of course not, sweetie! We’re just having a discussion. One that can wait until later.” She glared at Sunset.
They arrived at the three-story construction that was Canterlot High. The sun glinted off its glass dome roof. A white statue base sat in the front courtyard, from which Dawn could detect high traces of magic exuding from it. Students of all shapes, sizes, and colors walked around, talking and laughing. As she stepped out the car and followed her parents up the front steps, she received a few questioning glances. Other students gave greeting to her mother units.
Sunset and Twilight escorted Dawn through the halls and to a door labeled ‘Principal Celestia.’ Both her mother units took a deep breath, and Dawn detected their heart rates increase. Sunset knocked on the door. “Come in,” a voice said from the other side.
Principal Celestia’s office was well lit, with the lights on and the curtains open to welcome the rising sun. She sat behind her desk, her rainbow hair cascading down her back. “Sunset, Twilight! It’s nice to see you again…” Her welcoming smile fell as her eyes homed in on Dawn. “And who is this?”
“Okay, first, let me just remind you that she isn’t the craziest thing you’ve seen,” Sunset said, keeping a hand on Dawn’s shoulder. “Miss Celestia, this is our daughter, Dawn. Dawn, meet Miss Celestia.”
“Salutations, it is nice to meet you,” Dawn said politely.
Celestia stared for but a second. “She’s…” She closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. “When you graduated, I thought it would be the end of all the weird things that happen around here. But here we are again.” She made a short chuckle. “I can’t complain about my life being boring at least.” She opened her eyes and stood from her desk. “It’s very nice to meet you, Miss Dawn. I take it you’re here to enroll?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Wonderful! Let’s head to the registrar's office and get things sorted out.” She led the trio out the door, talking softly to Sunset and Twilight. “Will she be as much trouble as her parents?”
“I hope so,” Sunset said with a smirk. “Wouldn’t want your life to get boring.”
******
Once the registration was complete and Dawn had her list of classes, she stood in the entrance rotunda with her mother units. Twilight brushed her hair while relaying instructions. Many of them were already stored in Dawn’s memory banks, but she supposed a refresher course was not bad.
“Always be polite and use ‘please’ and ‘thank you.’ If you know the answer, raise your hand and wait for the teacher to call on you. Sit at the front of the class and pay attention. Don’t let any of the other kids make fun of you—you’re special and perfect just the way you are.”
“And if any of them do, just give them a little jab,” Sunset said, punching her fist forward.
“Affirmative.”
“No!” Twilight stood and smacked Sunset’s hand. “Violence is never the answer!”
“Affirmative.”
“Unless they hit you first, then go all out,” Sunset said, ignoring Twilight’s look of terror.
“Affirmative.”
“Only if talking doesn’t work!”
“Affirmative. Synthesizing information…. Priority list: do not resort to violence unless the aggressor attacks first. Talk the situation out. If the first protocol fails, use offensive parameters and destroy them,” Dawn said, finishing with a smile.
Twilight sighed and cupped a hand over her eye. “Good enough.” She jabbed a finger into Sunset’s shoulder. “We’re going to have a serious talk about your parenting skills.”
Sunset gently waved her off. “Some of your aunts have sisters here: Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle. They’ll try to find you during lunch. After school, Aunt Rarity will pick you up until your mother and I get out from class.”
“Understood.” She held her arms out. “Is this the part where we hug and say goodbye?”
Twilight pulled her into a hug. “I guess it is. You’re going to have so much fun learning.”
Sunset took over when Twilight finished. “Make sure you make some friends, okay? They’ll help you get through high school. Or, they’ll help you get in trouble. The line gets blurry sometimes.”
With an agitated growl, Twilight pulled Sunset by the back of her shirt. “Have a good first day!” she said, dragging a giggling Sunset away.
My mother units have odd behavioral patterns. The bell beginning school rang, and Dawn looked at her class schedule. This designates I should report to my English class first. She followed the crowd through the hallways, waving and smiling to make a good impression. She continued to receive peculiar looks, but some of the students waved back.
Dawn walked into the classroom, finding many of the seats already filled. Most of the seats in the front remained open. She set her backpack on the middle desk then walked over to the teacher, a mulberry woman with pink hair Dawn could only classify as ‘floofy.’ “Hello, English Teacher Unit, my name is Dawn. I have been assigned to your class.”
The teacher looked down at Dawn, her mouth making a disgruntled flat line. She stared at Dawn for a long minute, then sighed. “Let me guess… Sunset and Twilight built you?”
“They are my mother units!” Dawn said cheerfully.
“Of course they are.” Her mouth broke into a wide smile that showed off her teeth. “Welcome to my class, Dawn! You can call me Miss Cheerilee! Just wait here so I can introduce you to the whole class, okay?”
Dawn detected an odd vocal pattern with Miss Cheerilee and a slight increase in her stress hormones. “Does my presence discomfort you?”
“Don’t be silly! Of course not!” Cheerilee didn’t meet Dawn’s eyes.
Her increased heart rate indicates this is a lie. Dawn stored the behavioral patterns in her memory banks and stood next to Cheerilee until the final bell rang. She looked out at the rows of students staring back at her and felt an odd fluttering feeling from somewhere within her core.
“Class, I would like you to meet our newest student. This is Dawn.” Cheerilee gave her a quick pat on the head. “I hope you’ll all treat her very well.”
The class looked on in silence, blinking and exchanging curious glances with one another. A student in the back raised his hand.
“Yes, Rumble?”
“Are we just supposed to ignore the fact that she’s a robot?”
Cheerilee’s smile widened until Dawn thought it looked rather painful. “Yes, as a matter of fact, you are.”
Dawn frowned. Did she want other kids to ignore the fact that she was a robot? One did not ignore facts. But she did not want to be treated differently. A quick pat on her back returned her attention to Cheerilee who directed her to her seat. The desks on her immediate right and left were both empty. The fluttering feeling left, leaving behind only an emptiness.
******
Upon reaching the cafeteria for the scheduled lunch break, Dawn realized she had made a slight error. Her mother units told her to play with the sisters of her aunts, but Dawn didn’t know what they looked like. She had their names stored in her memory, but it seemed highly illogical to walk to each student to verify their identity.
The large and crowded cafeteria supported her misgivings. Students sat spread out across multiple tables, and as Dawn walked by, many of them stopped to stare or whisper. The emptiness returned, or rather, Dawn became aware of its presence. Maybe it was better if she went somewhere else. She did not even have the need or the ability to eat.
“Hey, do ya think that’s Dawn?”
The audio receptors in her ears tuned in. She turned toward the source of the conversation, finding three girls near the entrance.
“No, it’s her cousin Susan. Of course that’s Dawn!”
“Girls, not to alarm you, but Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon are moving in.”
Dawn swiveled her head, and sure enough, two girls were headed in her direction. The one in front had purple hair with a white streak running through it, blue eyes, and an expensive looking tiara on her head. In fact, her whole outfit, from her gold colored jacket to her boots glittering with rhinestones, looked costly. The second girl had a gray ponytail and purple eyes covered by blue-rimmed glasses. Her clothes looked less expensive, but she wore a string of pearls around her neck.
“Hey there, little freshman,” the first girl said. By the power of deduction, Dawn took her to be Diamond Tiara, making the other girl Silver Spoon. “Having a good first day at CHS?”
“I do not know. Learning is fun, but I feel… lonely?” The word came almost naturally and gave the emptiness in her a form. Yes, this feeling was loneliness, and she did not like it.
Diamond Tiara frowned. “Aww, that’s, okay. Like, it’s only your first day. I’m sure you’ll make plenty of friends.”
Silver Spoon gasped. “Like, I just had a great idea, DT!”
“What is it, Silver?”
“She should come sit with us!”
Diamond gasped. “You’re right, that is a great idea!”
“Oh no you don’t!”
Dawn swiveled her head again, watching the three girls march her way. Two of them had identical facial patterns to her aunts Rarity and Applejack, but the third girl with wavy purple hair did not register any familiarity.
“Excuse you,” Diamond said, putting her hands on her hips, “we’re trying to have a conversation with our new friend.”
The redhead stepped forward, mimicking Diamonds movement. “She’s supposed to be our friend. Ah bet you don’t even know her name.”
“Well, duh. We just met. I would have asked her, but you so rudely interrupted me.” Diamond stuck her hand out. “I’m Diamond Tiara and this is Silver Spoon. What’s your name?”
Dawn happily shook her hand. “I am Dawn. It is nice to meet you.”
“Dawn wait, you can’t be friends with them!” the pale girl with purple and pink curls said. “They’re mean and manipulative!”
“The only ones being mean here are you three,” Silver said. “Trying to stop Dawn from making other friends besides yourselves by spreading lies about us.”
Dawn looked at the trio as they recoiled at the comment. Their hearts were accelerated, but it seemed to be more of a fear-based response than one of lying. However, Diamond and Silver’s words seemed sincere. It appeared these two groups did not trust one another and both believed to be telling the truth.
“Come on, Dawn,” the purple haired one said, holding her hand out. “Don’t you want to come hang out with us instead?”
“But I do not know you yet.”
“I’m Scootaloo! That’s Apple Bloom, and that’s Sweetie Belle! We’re the Crusaders!” she said quickly. “Trust me, we’re way cooler than those two bullies.”
Diamond held a hand to her chest. “And now name calling? Why are you being so mean to us today of all days? We’re just trying to make a new friend.”
“No, you’re trying to get a new lackey,” Sweetie said, her voice cracking.
Dawn looked between both sides. “Can I not be friends with all of you?”
The Crusaders bit their lips and exchanged hesitant glances. “Well, you could I guess,” Sweetie said, “It’s just… Diamond and Silver aren’t really the sharing type.”
“They’re also not the friendly type either,” Scootaloo said with venom.
“You’re one to talk, coming over here and telling little Dawn here she shouldn’t hang out with us,” Silver said.
Silver Spoon raised a rational point. So far, the Crusaders appeared more antagonistic than her and Diamond Tiara. Dawn analyzed the position she was in. The Crusaders wanted to be her friends, but showed open hostility to another party that also wanted to befriend her. Her mother units said to make new friends, but also told her to spend time with the sisters of her aunts. Dawn wanted to be friends with all of them, but present data told her that would create more problems in the future.
She raised her hand, halting the continuing arguments between the parties. “If I may be permitted to speak. I appreciate your interest in being my friend…” She looked at the Crusaders. “But, because Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon approached me first, I shall delegate my time to them. I believe this is called ‘first come, first serve.’ However, I am sure we can still find time to hang out.”
The crestfallen looks on the Crusaders’ faces dimmed Dawn’s emotional spark. Scootaloo looked ready to speak up, but Apple Bloom put a hand on her shoulder and said, “All right. If that’s what ya want, Ah guess we can’t stop ya. We’ll… see ya later.”
While they turned and walked away, heads bowed, Diamond put an arm around Dawn’s shoulder and led her to an empty table. “You made a good choice. Those girls can be really mean when they want to be.”
Dawn continued to watch them as they left the cafeteria. “They appeared to be nice.”
“That’s high school for you,” Silver said, pulling out a nail file from her purse. “Some kids are really good at pretending to be something they’re not. Stick with us, and we’ll teach you how to tell the phonies from the real kids.”
“That’s right,” Diamond said, extending her hand to let Silver start on her nails. “You’ll be popular in no time. Just do everything we say.”
Real and fake. Dawn looked at her mechanical hands. She didn’t want to be thought of as fake. Perhaps being friends with these two was indeed the right choice. She smiled. Her mother units would be proud that she had made friends on the first day of school.
