Out of Alpha
Sunset knew she was in for an unpleasant conversation when Twilight had texted her asking to join her in the lab. Twilight’s lab was never a place Sunset looked forward to, especially now that much of it had been repurposed to accommodate Twilight’s growing Beanis empire.
She sighed and walked into the lab without knocking.
Twilight’s lab was little more than a repurposed storeroom on the second floor of Canterlot High. Much of what had been stored had been science equipment, which Twilight had begged to be allowed to use in her experiments. How she had convinced Principal Celestia to say yes was a mystery.
Sunset maneuvered around the shelving units near the front of the lab and into the more open area of the lab proper. Twilight sat hunched over at her workstation, scribbling furiously at something. Sunset cleared her throat.
Twilight spun on her stool. “Sunset, I wasn’t expecting you so soon.” She smiled nervously and glanced over to the far side of the workstation, where a green-haired girl in a labcoat thrown over a brown sundress was putting a box away on a high shelf. The girl didn’t seem to notice that Sunset had entered.
“Here, let me help you with that, Wallflower.” Sunset crossed the room and took the box from the girl, who let out a squeak of surprise and backed away quickly.
“S-Sunset, when did you get here?” Wallflower’s face flushed and she quickly busied herself with something else on the other side of the lab.
“Just now,” She raised a curious eyebrow at the girl. “Are you okay?”
“Fine! I’m fine, just fine.” Wallflower forced a quick smile and continued her work.
“Right…” Sunset eyed the girl suspiciously for a moment and shrugged. “So, Twilight, what’d you call me here for?”
“I think I’ve found the next big product for the Beanis product line,” Twilight paused dramatically with clenched fists, opening her hands as she made her announcement, “the Auto-Stimulating Beanis.”
“Isn’t that what they’re for? Self-stimulation, I mean.”
Twilight shook her head. “No, it’s a beanis that moves on its own. It does the work so you can keep your hands free and clean.”
“Twilight,” Sunset sighed, “I love how excited you get about your business, but those exist. They’re called vibrators.”
“These are different. They’ve got a stimulation pattern. We’re still testing for the ideal pulse rate, but so far they’ve been testing well.”
“Testing.”
“Yes.” Twilight nodded once.
“Testing.” Sunset repeated.
“Mhmm. We’re currently in beta testing.”
“You’re testing Beanis vibrators.” Sunset said flatly.
“Auto-Stimulating Beanis,” Twilight corrected. “The name’s under revision, though. I can’t trademark the word vibrator.”
“Of course you can’t.” Sunset sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “You know, I knew something like this was coming—” a short laugh escaped Wallflower “—and I still showed up. You’d think I’d learn at some point.”
“Don’t be like that, Sunset.” Twilight rolled her seat over to Sunset and patted her on the shoulder. “Why don’t you meet our new mascot?”
Twilight guided Sunset over to her work station, where a small plastic tank housed a caterpillar shuffling around the way caterpillars are apt to do. It was purple with a little black diamond pattern running down its back.
“It’s kinda cute,” Sunset admitted.
“His name is Sombra,” Wallflower interjected. “he’s a black emerald caterpillar.”
Sunset nodded like that meant something.
“I found him out in my garden. Well, the school’s garden, technically. Anyway—” A small gasp punctuated Wallflower’s story.
“Are you alright?” Sunset was at Wallflower’s side, looking for injuries.
“I-I’m fine.” Wallflower held a hand up, shooing off Sunset. “It’s nothing, r-really.” Her beet red face said otherwise.
Sunset placed the back of her hand against Wallflower’s forehead. “You feel a little warm. Are you sick?”
“No, just, uh… overworked! Yeah, that’s it.”
“I guess I’ve been working my newest employee too hard,” Twilight cut in. “Wallflower, why don’t you go take it easy somewhere else?”
“Y-yeah, that sounds like a good—” Wallflower gasped again, louder this time. “Idea! Good idea.”
“So,” Twilight said slowly. “What do you think of Sombra?”
Sunset turned back to Twilight, shooting another concerned glance over her shoulder at Wallflower. “Who?”
“The caterpillar?”
“Right. He’s cute.”
“You said that already.”
“Yeah, sorry, just distracted. Are you sure Wallflower’s alright?” Sunset frowned over at Wallflower, who was now sweating visibly.
“She’ll be fine.” Twilight waved a dismissive hand. “You wouldn’t believe how rare it is to find a black emerald caterpillar in these parts. Wallflower says they aren’t native. I wouldn’t know, though. If I’m honest, entomology isn’t my strong suit. I should see if she has a book—”
“Are you really not worried about Wallflower?” Sunset interrupted. “She looks really red, and she’s panting heavily and sweating and—”
She stopped mid-sentence and closed her eyes, exhaling slowly. “Twilight?”
“Yes, Sunset?” Twilight asked a little too sweetly.
“When you said you were in beta testing, you meant you were currently in beta testing, didn’t you.” Sunset wasn’t asking.
“Well,” Twilight looked down at the floor, fidgeting with her hands, “when I asked you to come to the lab, I didn’t think you would show up in less than ten minutes. Wallflower was really… eager to get to the testing phase once we’d made sure it was safe.”
“So you invited me here, knowing that you were in the middle of… things—” Sunset gestured over in Wallflower’s general direction “—that she probably wouldn’t be comfortable doing in front of normal people.”
“I’m here, though.” Twilight mumbled, “It was her idea, anyway.”
“I did say normal people.” Sunset chuckled despite herself.
“Hey!” Twilight playfully smacked Sunset from her seat. “I’ll have you know I run a legitimate online bus—”
Wallflower’s legs buckled as she let out a cry, leaning against the wall to support herself. A phallic, bean-based object hit the floor between her legs with a squelch. Sunset watched in detached horror as it rhythmically pulsated on the floor, scooting itself along the floor like a caterpillar.
Sunset looked from the not-vibrator to Wallflower panting as she slid down the wall to the caterpillar on Twilight’s workstation. She opened her mouth to say something, but found no words. Her shoulders sagged in defeat and she started for the door. “I’m going home.”