A hooded figure stood in front of the huge window that constituted the entire south facing wall of Mizz Pink’s office. The figure was roughly feminine in shape and clothed all in black, heavy duty material, though her frame seemed delicate. Her face was shrouded in the shadow of the hood over her face, while at the other end of her ensemble the thin, twin tails of a long-coat hidden beneath the cloak trailed close to the ground near her heavy military style boots, both worn and caked in black mud. She smelled heavily of filth, blood, and smoke, like she had just recently been fighting in the trenches; very recently. She had her arms folded over her chest as she stared out the window, hands covered by black leather gloves. She didn’t move, or speak, she just stared.

All in all, the mysterious hooded woman looked entirely out of place, and completely comfortable, in the high rise office.

“How long are you going to just stand there? It’s kinda creepy.” The hooded woman finally moved, but only to twist her head so she was looking over her shoulder. Mizz Pink stood leaning over a sleek, crescent shaped steel desk, covered in paperwork and some small pieces of advanced materials fabrication equipment. Mizz Pink had a reputation for choosing some very, unstable hobbies.

There was supposed to be a chair on the concave side of the desk, but Mizz Pink had shoved it out of the way. Right now, Mizz Pink was taking its place, standing with her fists planted on the desk’s surface. She was the same height as the odd woman at the window, but the similarities, for the most part, stopped there. She had long, thick hair dyed hot pink and wore it loose, hanging all around her head like spider legs crossed with tentacles. She wore a small, strapless pink dress, designed to accentuate her natural curves, as well as a dark blue jacket with the arms rolled up to her elbows and the front unbuttoned so it didn’t hide the view. She also wore a pair of dark purple jeans a size too small with a glittering silver belt that was really only for show and had glowing, blue chains spider-webbing from pocket to pocket. On her wrists she wore at least ten different glowing bracelets, each one a different design, size, and color. This was Mizz Pink, owner of Pinkie Tower and one of the most influential people in the kingdom.

Mizz Pink continued to stare at whatever was on her desk as she picked up what looked like a sonic soldering gun as she spoke to the hooded woman. “They’re not going to get here any faster because you stand there miserably. Come on, I think I’ve got some vodka around here somewhere.” Mizz Pink set down the sonic soldering gun and dropped to the floor, rummaging through the drawers of her desk.

“I don’t want a drink Pinkie,” The hooded woman said flatly, “You know I don’t drink.”

“Don’t be silly!” Mizz Pink shouted from beneath the desk, waving a hand dismissively at the woman’s refusal, “Everyone drinks in my tower, it’s part of the fun. Now do you want yours cut with cream, orange juice, or soda?”

The woman turned around fully, folding her arms over her chest, “Pinkie, I don’t drink.”

“Sorry! Can’t hear you,” Mizz Pink shouted in a sing-song voice as she began piling bottles of different colors and sizes on the desk while still hidden beneath it, “Now what did you want your drink with?”

“Pinkie,” The woman scolded, dropping her arms and walking toward the desk.

“Yeeeeeeeeeeees?” Mizz Pink popped up like a jack-in-the-box, placing her hands on the edge of the desk and leaning forward to smile innocently at the hooded woman. The innocent smile would have worked better if not for the plethora of alcoholic beverages covering her desk now. “Have you decided yet?” She tilted her head ninety degrees to one side, grinning up at the hooded woman.

The woman’s shoulders dropped and she reached beneath her hood to rub her temples with one hand. She sighed in resignation, “You’re not going to give up?”

“Why, whatever do you mean?” Mizz Pink was grinning from ear to ear now, already beginning to pour herself a shot of whiskey from a small, brown bottle. She took a deep breath and her grin returned to regular proportions, “I’m not trying to be a ‘bad influence’ on you, you know. It’s not like I’m saying, ‘come on everybody, grab your guns and lube, let’s have a bloody orgy in city hall!’ Though... come to think of it, that does sound like a real hoot.”

“Uh, Pinkie? The drinks?” The hooded woman finally realized her friend could be up to a lot worse that offering her guest a drink, and was starting to drift in that direction. And besides, lord knew she needed to steady her nerves.

Mizz Pink snapped back to reality, literally snapping to attention, “Right! Vodka?”

“That’s fine with me.”

Mizz Pink immediately grabbed a foggy gray bottle and started pouring its contents into a glass, “Woo! I knew it! Everyone loves vodka! At least I do, and that’s enough of everyone for me!” She finished filling the glass about halfway and reached for a bottle of orange juice. She started opening it but the hooded woman just grabbed the glass of straight vodka, lowered her hood, and downed the drink in one gulp. She didn’t even shudder, just set the glass back down and returned to the window. Beneath the hood she had black hair streaked with dark purple that fell to her shoulders, and wore a pair of info-screen glasses that glowed faintly blue whenever images or text scrolled on the surface of the lens. There was a six pointed purple star tattooed to her forehead, just beneath the hairline, and she also appeared to be wearing a black turtleneck sweater; home-knit by the looks of it.

Mizz Pink was frozen in place, still grinning at the spot where her guest had suddenly downed what should have been a paralyzing dose of alcohol for any nondrinker. The bottle of juice was still in her hand, half opened, and her mouth was slightly agape, her utter surprise apparent. After a moment she closed her mouth and closed the bottle again. She calmly set it back on the desk and grabbed her own drink, waving her free hand around as she did a mocking imitation of her friend while walking over to stand beside her, “Oh, look at me. I’m Twilight, I don’t drink, I would never drink, now I think I’ll suck down five servings worth of vodka at once without even blinking. Nope, I’ve never had a drink before.” She stared at the side of Twilight’s head for several seconds like there was something interesting in her ear. She started to rock back and forth on her heels, then raised a finger in the air and declared quite loudly, “Bullshit! I’m calling it! Bullshit!”

Twilight sighed, “But I don’t dri-“

“Liar!” Mizz Pink exclaimed, “Tell us the truth now Boozey!”

Twilight glared sidelong at the excited woman before admitting, “In the trenches, we’ve got to use something to make sure the water doesn’t kill us before the enemy can.”

“Ah-ha!” Mizz shouted, downing her own drink before continuing, “I knew it! Nobody drinks like that without some experience.” She tossed her empty glass over her shoulder, stray drops of whiskey flying out of it, and rummaged in a pocket. She pulled out a pack of cigarettes. Flipping the pack open she grabbed one with her teeth and pulled it out. She waved the small box beneath Twilight’s nose, who was still staring out the window, “Cigarette?”

Twilight smiled and shook her head. She turned her head to face her friend, “Pinkie, is there any vice you don’t succumb to with zeal?”

“Nope!” Mizz Pink chirped happily around her cigarette. Stuffing the pack back in her pocket she lifted one of her arms and a translucent red bracelet started to glow. She craned her neck forward, touching the end of the cigarette to the bracelet. With a small puff of smoke the end of the paper stick burst alight, immediately dying to a steady glow when she dropped her arm. Folding her hands behind her back she took a long drag on the cigarette, puffing up her chest. She paused for a moment, then there was a gurgle in her stomach. All at once she burped and hissed out a trail of smoke, creating a small fireball that burst from the end of the cigarette she held in her teeth.

Twilight’s hand flew halfway under her cloak, grasping a partially exposed black leather handle at the sight of the fireball before registering that it wasn’t a threat. The drink had loosened her up a bit for a moment, but now she was wound tight like a pocket watch again. Mizz Pink didn’t notice though, she was grinning at the circle of soot she’d created on the window after the fireball vanished into the air, leaving the scent of cigarettes and whiskey in its wake.

Twilight took a deep breath and tried to focus on the scenery outside the window instead of the danger of what she was about to do once the others arrived. She and Mizz Pink were currently on the fiftieth floor of the skyscraper named after its madcap owner: Pink Tower. The tower itself was actually gleaming silver and black rather than pink, and was easily seen for miles in every direction. Radiating outward from the tower was a swath of other, shorter skyscrapers, connected to each other by soaring bridges and skyways illuminated by multicolored neon and glaring spotlights. The further from Pink Tower the buildings got, the shorter they became until they were only one story shops and clubs, not that those were any less garish and elaborate than the massive complexes further in.

The entertainment district was almost perfectly round with Pink Tower at the center and about three miles in diameter. Outside this oasis of color, lights, and pleasure however, there was nothing but jagged lines, smoke, and metal. Factories, silos, and warehouses were in bountiful supply all the way to the horizon in any direction, with iron highways, fields of pumps and pipes, and mud filling in the spaces between the structures. An eternal haze of black and olive smog hung low in the air, smelling of metal and far more putrid things.

After staring at the dank landscape beyond the bubble of color, Twilight really did feel better about what she intended to do. This world was wrong, so very wrong. She couldn’t place precisely why, probably the overworked populace or the oppressive government, but she knew things needed to change before the human race passed the metaphorical point of no return. And that was why she was here, to begin that change, by any means necessary.

“You’ve got that face again,” Mizz Pink piped up, looking sidelong at Twilight while puffing intermittently on her cigarette, “That, ‘fun no longer exists around me, it’s time to be stone cold serious’ face.” She dragged on the cigarette and blew a smoke ring, “I don’t like that face. It usually means we have to stop having fun too.”

“Sorry Pinkie,” Twilight said quietly, still staring at the smoggy horizon, “Really, I am very sorry about all this,” She groaned and rubbed her temples, pinching her eyes closed as she stared at the floor, “I should have done this somewhere else, anywhere. You can’t be associated with me Pinkie, it’ll destroy you, probably get you killed if I know anything at all.” She groaned again like she had a stomach ache, “I should have set this up in a warehouse, not the most important building in the hemisphere-“ Twilight’s eyes snapped open and she looked up indignantly when Mizz Pink snorted loudly.

The Mistress of Vice had a hand over her mouth, partially covering her wide grin as she twitched all over with bottled up laughter. Twilight frowned sourly at her and she broke down. Moving the hand from her mouth to her forehead she roared with laughter, using her other hand, with held her cigarette in it, to hold her sides as she bent over involuntarily.

“Pinkie...,” Twilight shook her head, “Must you laugh at everything?”

“Everything? No,” Mizz Pink managed around a fit of giggles. She laughed for a few more seconds then pointed at Twilight with the hand covering her mouth, “This? Yes. Hahahahahaaaa!”

Twilight waited with her arms crossed beneath her breasts, tapping a booted foot impatiently as Mizz Pink regained what meager control she had over herself. The nicely dressed woman straightened where she stood from her stooped posture, still giggling, and wiped the corner of her eye. She took a deep breath and held it, then took a few more breaths and turned to Twilight, whose face was gray and frowning by now. Mizz Pink grinned and smacked her on the shoulder, “Hey, sorry girl, but,” She forced down another fit of laughter, “You do remember that I was the one who volunteered my tower for the meeting, right?”

Twilight shook her head, “That doesn’t change-“

“Oh shut up,” Mizz Pink laughed, popping her own cigarette into Twilight’s mouth as she turned and walked toward her desk again, “My decision, my consequences. Deal with it or don’t, but I’m not letting you take the blame for what I’m doing. You’re already a fugitive, don’t become a blame thief too. Blame thief!” Twilight turned, snatching the half smoked cigarette out of her mouth as she did, and her eyes followed Mizz Pink. She raised an eyebrow at the childish accusation at the end of her declaration, but other than that Mizz Pink made a lot of sense, which was unfortunate for Twilight, because she was in a self-blaming mood.

After Mizz Pink had taken out another cigarette and lit it with her odd bracelet she took a long pull and threw her head back. She breathed out a cloud of smoke before glancing at Twilight, “And besides, it’s not like you can change the board just before the game begins.”

Twilight grunted her agreement, staring at the air in thought. For a while the office was silent, with Mizz Pink returning to her earlier fabrication project at her desk while Twilight thought her way through dozens of situation simulations, anticipating the worst to come of her meeting with the others. She turned back to the window to stare as she thought, trying to deduce which highway each of them would enter the district by. She was back to being her original, silent and secluded self, effectively motionless but her mind whizzing at the speed of light.

After fifteen minutes the black clouds only a few hundred feet above the highest point of Pink Tower began to spark and rumble announcing the approach of a storm. Nothing serious, just a weekly shower, but it still felt poetically correct to Twilight as she watched the first fat drops hit the window. As more drops smeared themselves on the glass it looked as if the world was melting.

As the rain began to fall in force, creating an audible presence in the room, a tone sounded from a comm embedded in the ceiling, sounding like a glass bell. The voice that followed it was gruff and masculine, but cautiously respectful, “Mizz Pink?”

The mistress of the tower cut the gas on a small torch welder and pulled her welding mask off, “Yeah, what is it Mac?”

“Two of those ‘special guests’ you described just arrived.” Mac answered.

Mizz Pink grinned and smacked the torch down on the table as Twilight whipped around, “Ha! Good, good! Where are they now Mac?”

The man on the comm cleared his throat, “Ahem, they’re on their way up to the level sixty-seven dance floor.”

“Level sixty-seven,” Mizz Pink muttered, leaning on the desk, “That’s a good number. Good dance floor too. I always did love sixty-seven the most, well, besides level fourteen, but we swore to never speak of that, didn’t we,” Mizz Pink grinned and licked her teeth.

“Who is it?” Twilight asked loudly, “Which of the guests are they?”

“Umm...” Mac stuttered in surprise at the new voice, “Wait, who are-“

“Answer her question Mac,” Mizz Pink interjected, “I’m curious too.”

This convinced the gruff but awkward man and he continued, “Uh, according to the security feeds in the elevators, one is the tall, black haired guest wearing a white leather coat, a hat, and sunglasses, and the other is a bit more difficult to say. She keeps trying to hide behind the first one so I can’t get a good look.”

Twilight and Mizz Pink looked at each other and Mizz Pink began to talk, “Rarity-“

“And Flutter,” Twilight finished for her, stalking toward the elevator in the eastern wall, the only feature on that side of the office.

Hurriedly stowing all the shrapnel on her desk, Mizz Pink called up to the comm, “Thanks for the chat Mac. If you wouldn’t mind dear, call up the DJ on sixty-seven with my favorite song. Tell ‘er we’re on our way up.”

“Eeyup. Right away dear-MA’AM!” Mac responded, covering his slip quickly and sounding panicked before cutting the comm with the sound of another tone.

Mizz Pink laughed raucously as Twilight pressed a symbol on the wall beside the metal doors shaped like a floating box. When the desk was cleared Mizz Pink grabbed her finished project and jogged over to enter the elevator with Twilight as it arrived. She glanced at the serious faced woman and smirked, “Looking forward to this little reunion?”

“Not even a little bit,” Twilight replied curtly, pressing the number sixty seven engraved on the wall. Mizz Pink barked with laughter, almost dropping her cigarette on the floor as she flipped open her project and slipped it over her eyes. It was a pair of pink, crystal glasses, seemingly mundane but truthfully the most advanced thing she wore. With one passenger grinning like mad and the other with a face like stone, the doors closed and the elevator began to ascend as the storm grew in force outside.