Starlight Over Detrot
Act 2, Chapter 38: New Boss in Town
An impression common among many of Equestria’s less friendly neighbors – such as the changelings, diamond dogs, the remaining dragons, and some of the more xenophobic buffalo and griffins - is that Equestrian employment is a function of the Sun Tyrant branding all ponies just before puberty with their assigned societal position, in which they must toil their entire lives in service to the Solar Empire or be banished to the moon.
A misunderstanding to be sure, but an easy one to make.
It is true that the cutie mark defines a pony’s destiny and/or goals, and thus their ideal form of employment. Those who seek justice become cops or lawyers; those who seek to spread joy become party planners, masseurs or pharmaceutical researchers, and so on. This usually works out pretty well, although labor demands and the Cutie Market don’t always hold exactly the same shape, and even with ideal career representation on every citizen’s hindquarters, there are margins where unemployment can arise.
Equestria is equipped with generous social safety nets and excellent universal health care, through a combination of Celestia’s generosity, charity drives amongst the Canterlot and Manehattan aristocracy, and the work of good-hearted ponies everywhere. That said, those social safety nets are not always entirely reliable, because in Equestria, government shutdowns are not exactly unheard of. In other nations, shutdowns occur due to gridlock or partisanship(which in some griffin tribes involves actual partisans). In Equestria, shutdowns occur when the heads of government flee through magic portals, get eaten by mad trees… or when ancient evils show up, decide they want to feast on everypony’s magic/love/intangibles/obscure bodily fluids, and kidnap various Princesses. Even locally, the social services office may be temporarily closed because one of the workers brushed the wrong artifact and wrecked the building with a 50-foot plate-wielding equipomorphic manifestation of last night’s domestic squabble.
So most ponies prefer to actually find employment, although things get tough when one can’t find a position that aligns with one’s talent. Equestrian employers take Special Talents strongly into consideration when hiring ponies, and the only jobs which will readily take ponies who can’t find work in their own fields tend to be hideously unpleasant yet deeply in demand – such as rock farmers, magical contamination clean-up crews, and most infamously, cutie mark acquisition counselors.
Still, there are times when perfect career alignment is trumped by simple necessity.
-The Scholar
Please stand by.
I knew it was my imagination and it was likely to take us days to exhaust the air supply in Tourniquet’s chamber, but I felt like there was a weight pressing on my chest with every breath.
Please stand by.
An earth pony might be more okay with being underground than most pegasi or unicorns, but nopony wants to die of suffocation because their show-off of a librarian cut the wrong wire.
We’d been ‘standing by' for a full fifteen minutes since Limerence’s last report and any attempts to shout at him had been ignored. That or he’d shut off the speaker.
I wished, not for the first time, that I’d thought to bring a watch. We’d been in Supermax for hours and the dawn was likely soon approaching. Much as my own oxygen needs were going to get pressing at a point, all those cultists were in their cells in much the same condition and with a shorter time-frame.
That was more dead bodies than I think my conscience could handle.
“Taxi, how's your leg?” I asked my driver, trying to distract myself from thoughts of asphyxiation.
She touched the bandage, then shook her head. “I can feel the bullet in the muscle when I walk, but it’s not bleeding anymore.”
I turned to my partner, who was still wrapped around Tourniquet, hugging the construct like a teddy-bear. The cables coming out of the girl’s back had gone dead, save for pulsing only occasionally.
“What about you, kid?”
“I’m… so far beyond scared right now, Sir, that I’m not really sure what I’m feeling,” Swift replied. Her feather-tips shook with every word. “Can we get out of here if Lim can’t get the door open?”
“Well, we’ve got two earth ponies and a fair bit of ordnance left over. If nothing else, we might be able to use some parts of that dragon or maybe hot-wire the door…”
“Sir, I know you think I’m kinda gullible and... you’re probably right about that, but by now I can tell when you’re lying to me,” Swift murmured, giving me a reproachful look from behind one of Tourniquet’s ears.
I rubbed the spot between my eyes with my hooftip and swallowed my ego. I’d thought I was a little bit better liar than that. Still, there’s nothing I do worse than tell a good friend bad news.
“I’m sorry, kid. I’ve got no idea how we’ll get out of here if he can’t fix whatever happened. We’ve come this far, though, and Limerence is nothing if not both intelligent and stubborn. He’ll figure something out. We can have Queenie send for somepony to… do something. Maybe. I don’t know how they’d get in. Maybe Chief Jade could break us out if we tell her Cerise is still down in the temple...”
Swift thought for a moment, then her lips curled into a weak smile.
“Sir, if we don’t get out - I know this is going to sound totally crazy after all this insane stuff we’ve done since I met you last month - but I think I had fun.”
“Heh...yeah. Celestia save me, I did too,” I replied, leaning back on the carpet with a slightly dusty plush cat for a pillow.
“I’m fine, too if anyone cares.” Geranium said, grumpily, as she stretched out beside me.
****
You’d think time would pass quickly, but there’s only so many heartfelt statements of comradeship you can make before you start to get a bit bored. Once we’d gotten most of them out of our system, including a lovely soliloquy from Sweets, we settled in for the business of waiting either for news or death.
Swift refused to leave Tourniquet’s side, holding the stiffly sitting girl with one leg for the first half hour before deciding that was less comfortable and slumping back to back. Geranium, meanwhile, had taken a good twenty minutes to chew me out with a surprisingly diverse vocabulary of cuss words before she’d gotten down to the business of sulking in a corner.
Silence had reigned for more than ten minutes, since none of us could really think of anything to say. Even tic-tac-toe couldn’t hold my attention for long.
I threw myself to my hooves. Taxi looked up from a crossword book she’d pillaged from Tourniquet’s supply and Swift yawned, lazily, rubbing her tummy with one hoof as she watched me get up in a determined fashion for the fourth or fifth time in the last hour.
“Alright, I think we’re down to trying to force the door again.”
“Oh, sit down and let us all die with some damn dignity, Detective,” the lawyer complained, poking through a box of broken doll parts with one hoof.
Swift shook her head and rolled onto her side. “Ugh...Sir, we tried kicking it, digging through the dragon for any organs that might explode, blowing it up with extra shells, trying to open the wall panels and short of a Cloudhammer I don’t think-”
“Detective! This is Limerence!”
Limerence’s sweet, sweet voice echoed around the chamber.
“You bastard! What took you so long!?” I shouted.
“Pardon the extended wait. I had to disable the speaker system for some period while I figured out what one of the secondary systems was routed through. Turned out it was connected to the ice-cream maker in the floor two kitchens… eheh… mmm… yes…” He trailed off into a self-conscious cough. “Better safe than sorry, as they say. Anyway, I managed to remove all of the jury rigging and I should be able to return control to the construct now.”
“Throw the damn switch!” I barked.
“There... is no switch that I can see… I have several levers and a toggle-”
“Turn the air back on or I swear to the high holy heavens I will find you in the afterlife and-”
“Pardon, yes… ah… throwing... ‘the switch’.”
I shut my eyes and waited.
And waited.
And waited.
Nothing. No fans spooling up. No hum of technology.
I opened one eyelid. Tourniquet was still where she had been, but like a marionette that’d just been picked up by the puppet master, her eyes were wide and she was looking all around. She glanced down to find Swift’s legs wrapped tightly around her midsection.
“Detective… Mister… Mister Hard Boiled?” she asked, plaintively.
I was so relieved that I almost hugged her. The relief lasted just long enough for me to take stock of my surroundings again. Then the worry returned.
“Hardy, I still don’t hear the ventilation system,” Taxi said.
“Oh Celestia, we’re all gonna diiie…” Geranium threw her hooves in the air and flopped onto her back.
I raised my voice. “Limerence! We’ve still got no air coming through here!”
“I… I am uncertain what is wrong, Detective. That... should have turned everything back on.”
“What happened?” Tourniquet asked, her eyebrows drawn together as she put her legs around Swift, then looked up at the still-dark cables leading out of her back. “Everything was...was starting up again! Now I can’t see anything! Not even outside! All my sensors are down!”
“Limerence was futzing with your controls downstairs, trying to fix you… and he tripped something,” I answered.
“The last thing I remember was him asking if he should disconnect the ITCV Security Control Matrix and I said ‘yes’, but… oh… oh no. I got it out of order! Oh, stupid, stupid pony!” She smacked herself on the forehead with a hoof. “He needed to attach the system to the adjacent power generator first for a clean transfer… then he disconnected... wait... oh... oh my gosh!”
The mechanical filly put a toe to the side of her head and her shining eyes dimmed slightly. I couldn’t read her expression but it seemed somewhere between fear and excitement.
“Ohmygoshohmygosh!” Tourniquet’s voice rose until the speaker in her throat crackled then bounced up onto her rear hooves. “Ohmygosh!”
“What is it, honey? Come on, talk to us!” I said, trying to keep the hard edge out of my words that I was definitely feeling.
“There’s… there’s no warden! Whatever Mister Limerence did, there’s no more warden!” she gasped.
“Of course there’s no Warden, honey. Your mom…”
“I don’t mean like that! All my security protocols were erased! All the authorizations! They’re all gone! I’m going to go to sleep soon unless there’s… unless there’s a Warden.” She paused, and yawned, her eyes dimming. “There has to be a Warden.”
“But… you mean there’s some kind of security protocol that ties this place to one pony?” I asked, incredulously.
She nodded as a sudden weariness seemed to overtake her and she sank onto her stomach. “Yes. It… it was always Mom. I mean, Mom was always the Warden, even after she left. Somepony has to be the Warden or all the locks close. Everything closes. I didn’t even… I didn’t even know until just now, but that’s what’s happening.”
I stood there, processing that statement.
“Sir, we can’t... we can’t let her go to sleep. How would we wake her up again?” Swift asked, urgently.
“I know that, kid. I just… don’t know what to do to stop it,” I murmured.
I heard a noise and looked sideways at Geranium. Her eyes had lit up and she took a sudden step forward.
“I’ll be the Warden!” she declared, confidently lifting her chin.
Tourniquet snorted, derisively, wiping at her eyes as she forced herself upright. “Yeah, right. I don’t like you, Miss Geranium… and I’m not dumb, either.”
The lawyer looked crestfallen. I shot her a glare that could have peeled paint.
“Well, it was worth a shot…” she said. “It’s not like I’d have ordered her to kill you, or anything. I need you alive, remember?”
I held out my hoof to my driver, who leaned over and smacked Geranium across the back of the head.
“Well… what about me?” I asked.
“I don’t trust you, Mister Detective,” she replied, her eyes flickering at my face then down at my chest where my badge hung. “You’d lie to me if you thought it would make things better, or if you didn’t need me and you thought I was in your way.”
I didn't argue the point; I just stepped back and glanced over at my driver.
Taxi looked pensive as she asked, “And me?”
Tourniquet regarded my driver with a hint of a grimace. “You’re really familiar, you know. I know where I saw a pony like you before.”
My driver drew back a little, as though the girl might sting her. “Where?” she asked, nervously.
“Mom. Mom used to be like you,” the filly replied, sadly. “Before I got hurt, she was like you. If somebody you loved died and you stopped trying to be better I think you’d be like her, too. I love my mom, but… but I know she’s a bad pony. I don’t want a bad pony to have all the stuff here again. She hurt too many people.”
“Then…?”
Turning around, the mechanical filly pointed.
“Me?!” Swift squeaked.
Tourniquet dipped her head. “I… I trust you. I dunno why. Maybe because... because I don’t think you ever wanted to hurt ponies before. Because I think you’d stop him if he ever lost his way.” She gestured at me with a flick of her tail.
“Honey, what… exactly is… involved in being the Warden of Supermax?” I asked, feeling a bit of caution might be in order.
Reaching out to Swift, Tourniquet winced as she had to drag her rear legs across the carpet. She seemed to have lost motor control in them. “The Warden or whoever they assign as a lieutenant is responsible for the wellbeing of everypony here. The prisoners. The guards. Me. They are Supermax… and their law is my law. My power is their power. They will be forever safe in my walls. They will have to be linked with me until they die. I’m going to seal that extra control room once Mister Limerence is done fixing things, and nopony will ever go in there again.”
I looked over at Swift who was biting her lip, anxiously.
“Sir...what should I do?” she asked, her wings splayed out from her back as she looked down at Tourniquet’s glittering eyes. “I don’t know how to be the Warden of a prison. I mean, I don’t even… I can’t be here all the time...and I don’t…I couldn’t even keep a goldfish alive when I was a foal. Are you sure there’s nopony else?”
Tourniquet shifted onto her stomach, resting her head on Swift’s shoulder. “There’s nopony I want. Please? I really...I really don’t want to go back to sleep...”
The lights in her eyes were fading fast. Time was short.
“Kid, we either do this...or we try that door again,” I said.
“I know!” Swift snapped, lifting Tourniquet to look into her young face, studying the metal around her eyes. She took a deep breath and thrust her chest out. “I’ll do it. I’ll be the Warden of Supermax.”
For long seconds, there was no response. Tourniquet’s eyes were still closed.
“Damn…” I muttered, looking towards the sealed door. “Alright, if I could improvise a pen-knife or something of the sort, I might shell open one of Taxi’s remaining kinetic shells-”
Then, like a loving caress on my neck, I felt the breeze.
Power surged through the cables down from the ceiling and Tourniquet’s eyes snapped open, blazing with life and energy. She grinned as the cords attaching her to the ceiling pulled tight, raising her into the air and out of my partner’s forelegs. Flares of energy and bursts of sparks shot from the walls, momentarily blinding me as the whole room was lit with fiery magic.
My muzzle hung open as I stared up at her, arcane fire coiling around her body as the ladybugs spiraled in ever greater circles around her. The arcing electrical forces danced over Girthranx, casting strange shadows on the body and the desiccated corpses hanging from his exposed ribs, but nothing could have ruined the absolute glee in the eyes of Swift’s friend.
Tourniquet giggled, swinging around on her fiber optic strings as she waved her hooves just for the joy of it. “I… I can see everything! Mechanical room surveillance and my external communications are still down, but… but everything else! The sky! Swift, I see the sky! All the stars! I can see the city, too!” she cried.
A happy little tune started up somewhere and the sealed door cranked itself open with a rush of releasing vacuum.
“Detective! I’ve got activity down here. What’s happened?” Limerence inquired. Even the speaker sounded better.
“Mister Limerence!” Tourniquet called out. “You can stop now! I’m fixed! I just… oh.” She frowned and her cords went slack, sending her to the ground in front of Swift. “Um… I just found a procedure in my instructions for the assignment of the new Warden.”
My partner tilted her head to one side, flipping an ear interestedly. “What kind of ‘procedure’?”
She nodded, swirling her hoof in a circle against the side of her face. “It’s like… like some kinda magic ritual. I’ve got restored access to all my stuff, but it’s temporary. The Warden has to be given the ‘key’ or the system will lock up again.”
“So, what exactly is the key? I doubt we can go get anything from your mother,” I said.
“It’s nothing like that! I mean, it’s not actually a key. It’s more like… the idea of a key,” Tourniquet said, cryptically. “It’s kind of… awkward, actually.”
Swift got to her hooves, fluffing her wide wings against her sides as she brushed at the bunny patch on her combat vest for good luck. “I think I just want a nap really badly right now and I’ll do almost anything to get it, so… how bad could it be?”
Tourniquet hesitated for a long moment. “Um… how do you think your parents would react if you got a tattoo?”
“A... a tattoo?!” Swift exclaimed.
“Yeah. It’s like with drawing my symbol to control somepony, except this symbol is how you control me.”
“You mean, I have to have something on me forever?!”
“Errr… maybe… a little? I could totally put it someplace discreet!” she replied, raising her metal hoof with the glowing icon on it. “I think that’s why Mom always wore a shawl. She was hiding her mark.”
Swift looked nonplussed. Rather than object, however, she tugged the zipper on the front of her vest open, pulling it half-way down to expose her chest fur. Something dawned on her and she sagged a little. “This is gonna hurt, isn’t it?”
“It might… kind of… uh… a little… yeah.” Tourniquet rubbed her nose with her free hoof, self-consciously. “If there were another way, I totally would! I mean, maybe you can get another tattoo and work mine into it! Or you could wear lots of turtlenecks. You might even-”
My partner covered her friend’s muzzle with her toe. “Shush… it’s okay. I mean, what are friends for, if not giving you ridiculous tattoos and funny stories, right?” She faced me, holding out of her leg. “Sir, could you hold my hoof while I do this?”
I laughed, good naturedly, and put a foreleg around hers. “Kid, I’m buying you and Taxi the biggest ice-cream in history when this is over. I think a little hoof-holding is well within the realm of reason. Besides, you and The Warden of Tartarus will have something in common you can talk about on your date!”
Swift’s mouth dropped open and she started to form some kind of retort when I jerked my head at Tourniquet. The filly nodded her understanding and pressed her foot to Swift’s breast, just above her heart.
There was burst of light, followed a puff of smoke. The smell of burning fur hit me like a wave, followed by charring meat. I clutched Swift’s hoof as she made a sound somewhere between a tire having the air let out of it and a ferret being charbroiled alive. Her pupils vanished as she fell to one side so fast I barely had time to catch her. Every muscle in her body seemed to relax simultaneously except her wings, which shot out from her sides, nearly cold-cocking me as I struggled to hold her upright.
It was most of a minute before she could speak. The stink of flash-fried hair still filled my nose and Swift was breathing quick and heavy, her face buried in my fur.
“Kid… come on, you alright?” I asked.
She nodded slightly, then raised her head as Tourniquet stepped back and shook a bit of steam off her metal hoof.
“Ow,” she murmured.
“I’m so sorry, Swift,” her friend apologized. “These security protocols are so stupidly finicky...”
“I’m suddenly glad you didn’t pick me,” Geranium commented, lip curled with distaste as she waved the smelly smoke away from her nose.
Swift was quivering as she pulled back and tried to look down at her chest. The angle was too low. “Can... can I have a mirror or something?”
Tourniquet nodded and pointed towards a mirror mounted on the side of one of her bookshelves in the middle of the little nursery. “Sure. Over there.”
Hauling her back legs under herself, my partner moved over to the mirror and stood there looking at her breast.
“Well, I’ll say this… I’ve seen worse," I mused. "Detective Parrot in Narcotics has a tattoo of a chicken on his inner thigh. Orange with purple feathers. Funniest thing,”
The crescent scorched into Swift’s flesh was bright red, with bits of darker skin around the edges that looked like they’d been dyed that color. For something that appeared to have been burnt into horse fur, it was surprisingly sharp, without any of the puckering or boiling around the edges I tended to associate with heat injuries.
“It… it doesn’t hurt anymore,” she said, touching the fresh mark lightly.
“I believe that’s a… magic brand,” Taxi said, tilting her head to examine the moon shape from another angle. “Funny. I haven’t seen one of those since I left the zebra lands.”
“Okay, you’ve got total access!” Tourniquet chirped. “All of Supermax! Any door, any cell, and anything you want to do is yours.... heeeheee… Warden!”
Swift turned to me, her toe still on the brand. “Sir, what do we do?”
“Well… hmmm. Is there any way of disabling the cultists on the top couple of floors?” I asked.
Tourniquet scratched at her mane, then nodded. “There’s the emergency lockdown and containment procedure. That should totally do it.”
“Um… how do I turn it on?” Swift asked.
“Say ‘initiate emergency lockdown and containment procedure’, then which floors,”
“Oh… Do I have to? Can’t you just… you know… do it? I’m gonna sound silly-”
“Please? I never got to hear it when Mom was running things and I always wanted to try this!” Tourniquet gave my partner a pouty-faced look, complete with jutting lower lip and big, shiny eyes.
Swift grinned, adopting one of those ridiculous super hero poses with one hoof in the air. “Initiate emergency lockdown and containment procedure! Top three floors!”
A klaxon sounded from somewhere and red lights flashed on the walls. Putting her hooves in the air, Tourniquet rose until she hung above us in the center of the room.
“Initiating emergency lockdown procedures.”
It was still her voice, but even a child’s voice can be terrifying if it’s vibrating the floor under your hooves.
“All prisoners will report to their cells. Any prisoner not in their cell will be subject to disciplinary measures. Teleport interdiction is in effect. Magic nullification is in effect.”
Distant machines began clinking, clunking, and rattling to life as the old prison woke from its long sleep. The ceiling writhed and flashed like a nest of neon snakes, dancing shadows lending unnatural life to the toys scattered around the floor.
Ladybugs spun and twirled, more and more of them pouring in through the door until it seemed to whole room was full of the little creatures as they played and frolicked around the metallic filly.
Tourniquet looked down at my partner and held out her hoof. Swift laughed, bending her wings towards the ground as she blasted up into the air, coming to a hover in front of her new friend. Reaching out, they touched toes for just an instant.
A mischievous smile grew on Tourniquet’s face and she tilted her head back to address the ponies upstairs. When she spoke again, it was less formal and robotic, but for that reason a whole heap scarier. If I’d been wearing a starry robe just then, I’m pretty sure I’d have been galloping for the hills, as little good as that might have done.
“For all of those who are looking around right now, wondering whether or not this is some kind of joke, you should know that I am the construct. I run this prison. I am a magical being and I control whether you breathe, whether you wake or sleep, and whether you ever leave.”
She paused, letting that sink into all of those disparate minds upstairs.
“You’ve never met me and you’ve never heard of me, but I’ve always been here. I watched you every day, in your beds, in your showers, and in all your little sins. When you prayed, it was me who listened. Not Princess Luna. Not the sky. Me.”
She bared her teeth and the hidden speakers let out a mechanical snarl that shook the very air.
“I controlled this prison before your leader stole it from me and my Mom! I am older than all of you and I eat the magic of dragons! You can’t escape me. You can’t run from me.”
Tourniquet paused and drew in a breath. I had to clap my hooves over my ears, lest I be deafened, but I could still feel her words right down in my bones.
“Miss Skylark was a thief and a murderer! She’s dead now… and there’s a new Warden in Supermax!”
****
Swift trotted along beside me, high stepping every inch of the way. She’d zipped her combat vest back up to her throat, but she was still looking far too pleased with herself.
“Kid, if your nose gets any higher in the air, it’s going to get struck by lightning the minute we leave the building,” I nickered, trotting along at my partner’s side.
“Yeah, well… I’m the Warden here!” she squeaked, stomping all four hooves with excitement. “Oh, gosh, I can’t wait to tell my grandmother!”
“This is going to be a thing from now on, isn’t it?” Taxi laughed.
“Gods, I hope not,” Geranium grumbled, trudging along behind us. “I had to put up with one whiny filly with a power complex already.”
A faint buzz surrounded Geranium’s hooves and she yelped and danced away from the spot as though stung.
“Aaand I can still hear you, yah know… heehee! By the way, I got the taser system working. It’s not very strong, yet. It wouldn’t even tickle a dragon,” Tourniquet put in from the speakers nearest us.
“How are your power levels?” I asked as Geranium tried to glare everywhere at once. “We’re going to have to find some alternative to letting you tap life magic from the Lunar Passage.”
“I’m okay for now. Nopony outside will notice I’m draining them at these levels for at least a week or two. Then they’ll probably start sleeping long hours.”
“Huh. Alright. How are things outside the prison? Any movement?”
“Nothing out there. My sensors are detecting a brand new electrical cable running just under the surface less than twenty meters from my front door. That wasn’t there fifteen years ago.” She hesitated, then said, “If I could tap it, it looks like it’s running more than...gosh! It’s running plenty!”
Taxi adjusted the bandage on her shoulder and said, “I haven’t seen anything in here that won’t work on regular old electricity. There’s no reason we couldn’t figure a method for switching her over, really, is there?”
“We’re getting our chickens well ahead out our eggs, here,” I said, turning down another hallway in the direction of the mechanical room. “We still have to get out.”
“Oh! Yes! Speaking of that, you’ll need the filtration suits!” Tourniquet said.
“Filtration suits? What are we ‘filtering’? We’re not leaving through the sewers again.”
“Nope! Lockdown triggered my prisoner incapacitation system! All prisoners who weren’t in their cells on the top few floors have been hit with Sleeping Willow dust. My ventilation systems will clear it eventually, but it’s going to be a few days.”
“Wait… Sleeping Willow dust?” Taxi asked, pausing to bite her lip. “That’s been illegal to use on prisoners for the last… Oh, right."
"...What exactly is Sleeping Willow dust, Sweets?” I inquired.
My driver sighed and shook her head.
“It’s what it sounds like. Dust from the Sleeping Willow tree,” she explained. “It has anti-magic properties and it’ll knock you cold for a week or until it’s washed off, whichever comes first. They used to use it during the war because it’ll put down a dragon in big enough quantities. No ordinary filter spell will keep it out. Only full body mechanical filters and some very specific kinds of static spell fields, both of which were too big for the dragons to mass produce. Get it on your hooves or your mane though and you’re in for a long nap.”
“Who came up with something like that?” Geranium asked, looking disturbed. “And why is it illegal if it just puts you to sleep?
“Nature came up with it, but ponies weaponized it,” Taxi continued, with a tiny shrug of her uninjured shoulder. “The Sleeping Willow tree puts anything that wanders under it into what amounts to an artificial coma. Their bodies draw scavengers or hunters, who also get dusted. They decompose and that feeds the tree. It’s an ugly thing that used to grow in the Wilderness. They’re mostly extinct now and illegal because of the peace treaty. The dragons were thorough in getting rid of them after the war.”
“Goodie,” I groaned. “I’m seeing how this used to work. If there’s a riot, everypony in the building goes to sleep. Guards. Prisoners. Everypony. Once they’re out or contained, ponies come from outside wearing filter suits. They clean up and there’s no danger.”
“So the whole top three floors are covered in this stuff? Anypony not in a cell?” Swift asked, putting a hoof over her eyes. “And… I did that?”
Geranium sniggered at her. “Yup! Good first day on the job, huh, ‘Warden’?”
To her credit, Swift didn’t feel the need to reply directly.
Instead, the lawyer’s hooves started to buzz and she yelped, bouncing backwards onto her flank.
“Oh! Neat! Looks like I can control the tasers in here with my mind!” Swift giggled, prancing along beside me.
“Nope, but I thought it was pretty funny, anyway!” Tourniquet said from an overhead speaker.
“So… how many ponies are currently unconscious?” I asked.
“I only got a few. I locked most of the cell doors and lowered the protective plating before I turned on the dust flow,” she answered.
“You sound disappointed. Were you hoping to get the whole cult at once?” I laughed.
“How would you feel if you had a big, shiny red button your whole life that you could never press? Then when you got to press it, it only got like, twenty ponies?”
“Point taken,” I nickered. “Okay, so… where are these filter suits?”
“The Mechanical Room. They should be in a closet down there. Most of the guard stations had them, but most of the guard stations were cleared out when they closed me last time.”
I flipped the collar of my jacket up as we turned the corner and saw the Mechanical Room up ahead, its security door already invitingly open. “Alright, then we can go collect Limerence, Skylark’s box, and Cerise. Once we’re out, we’ll figure out what to do with our prisoners.”
-****
For some reason, the Mechanical Room seemed to be even more of a mess the second time down. The dead hadn’t had time to start smelling bad just yet, but the blood splashed liberally across the carpet and the corpses lined up against the wall had us all covering our noses. Nightmare Moon’s broken statue still lay where it’d fallen; another body for the pile.
Swift hadn’t puked in a bit, but she was looking a sickly green again.
“Celestia save me, Sir. I… I was just upstairs for an hour or so. I forgot what happened here, or at least… I kinda put it out of my mind.. Is that wrong?” my partner asked as the four of us stood in the door, looking at the broken pews, the torn tapestries, and the row of robe-strewn bodies. A mare they hadn’t been able to recover was still tangled in the wall-hangings where she’d been thrown by Cerise.
“I don’t think so, kid,” I replied, forcing myself to move down the row of pews. “I think that’s your brain trying not to scream and piss itself.”
“Oh.”
“Just try not to think about it. We’ll be out of here soon and then you can get on with the business of developing severe post-traumatic stress and alcoholism.”
“You’re much better at comforting somepony when you don’t try, Sir,” Swift replied, giving me a little swat on the hip with one wing.
Cerise was where we’d left her, sprawled on the rug with a rolled-up robe for a pillow and another for a blanket. So far as I could tell she hadn’t moved, but then if Limerence was right her body had some serious healing to do. I trotted over to her side, pushing back the sheet so I could look down at her young face. It was strange seeing Chief Jade laying there without all the years of drug abuse, stress, and dead friends adding lines to her face.
“Poor thing,” Taxi said, brushing a strand of mane out of the girl’s eyes. “She was just trying to make her own life in a city her mother practically owns.”
“I’m surprised she didn’t leave town,” Geranium murmured, joining my driver at the girl’s side. “I don’t know her story, but I would have.”
“Would you really?” I asked, swatting a fly buzzing around my side. “I’ve said that myself plenty of times. Detrot is a city that eats ponies. Maybe it always was. You knew that when you started working as a lawyer… and you didn’t leave, even back when it was an option.”
At that, Geranium frowned, looking thoughtful as she moved back to sit on one of the pews.
Trotting over to the hidden alcove, I stuck my head down the hallway and shouted, “Hey! Limerence! Shake a tail! We’re leaving!”
“One moment, Detective!” he called back. His rear-end appeared before the rest of him as he backed into the hall. His horn was glowing as it came into view, but he was hauling on something with his teeth. It was Skylark’s box.
I moved to help him, working around his side to take up the other handle in my teeth so we could carry it down the hallway comfortably. The taste of blood almost made me gag. It’s somehow easier when you don’t know whose blood is on your tongue.
We hauled the box into the temple and thumped it down beside Cerise.
“Miss Skylark was most thorough with her personal security measures. Two primary unicorn-proofed locks, a secondary internal lock that could only be opened with a catch handle, and a gas bomb trap that may or may not have been lethal,” Limerence said, casually shoving the top of the box open. “It took me almost four minutes to get it open.”
“Lim, if you ever come over to my house, I’m checking your pockets for silverware when you leave,” I commented, peering into the box.
Skylark’s chest was a mish-mash of toolbox, chest of drawers, and crazily obsessive devotional art piece. Every inch of the interior that wasn’t taken up by heaps of old clothes was covered in newspaper clippings of either Princess Luna or notable thefts.
I picked up the top piece of clothing, which was a conical purple magician’s hat. Underneath there was a matching cape covered in sparkling sequins. Both pieces were travel-worn and looked like they’d been patched and cared for down through the years.
I turned over the edge of the cape and found a tiny slip of paper that said, ‘To my sweet little star! Go put on the most amazing shows the world has ever seen! Love,-’.
The name was smudged out. There was no other indication of who it might have come from.
Taxi flipped open one of the drawers, finding it empty, then closed it again and fiddled around with something underneath it until, with a soft pop, she hit a hidden catch. As she opened it again, she whistled softly. “Oooh, darling, you had lovely taste.”
The drawer was heaped with jewelry in dozens of styles. Even my untrained eye could pick up a couple of impressive pieces.
She pawed through it, trying out one of the rings on her fetlock. Right down near the bottom, there was a necklace with three red ruby cherries. I picked that up and examined it for some time, then pocketed it and turned back to the rest of the box’s contents.
“Sir, should we be going through her stuff like this? She’s dead-” Swift said, sounding a bit disturbed.
“Kid, I’d put money on that every inch of this is stolen,” I cut her off. “You want to turn it into DPD lost and found? It’s probably been a damn long time since it was ripped off. Ponies who can afford to buy this stuff insure it against theft and I doubt any of them are looking.”
“Couldn’t we… I dunno… take it to a charity or something?” she asked, dubiously poking at the ring on my driver’s leg. “This feels kind of wrong for some reason.”
“We’re just looking right now,” I said, with a little shrug.
“Speak for yourself,” Taxi sniffed, picking up a heap of jewels and stuffing them into her saddlebag. “If we need liquid monies at some point, I know a fence who will pay top dollar. Stella’s generous and that’s fantastic, but I’d rather have some options that couldn’t be traced back to him.”
My partner grimaced and stepped back, dropping her backside onto the carpet in a way that suggested oncoming sulking. I rubbed the bridge of my nose and tried to think how to explain the realities of being a cop on the run to her, only to realize I wasn’t entirely sure of them myself.
Limerence, of all ponies, came to my rescue.
“Miss Swift… while you may not appreciate the practical aspects of digging through the pockets of the dead, please be aware, Skylark would have happily dug through yours,” Limerence said, lifting a newspaper clipping that said ‘Pants Family Mausoleum robbed, Ebon Kitten suspected.' “We are fulfilling a need in furtherance of our duties to create order in this city. That these jewels had a former owner makes them no less valuable, nor does their value make that owner any less ‘former’.”
Swift bit her lower lip between her sharp back teeth, then slowly nodded before reaching into the box and pushing aside the cloak and hat to see what was underneath. A girl’s diary which looked to have been owned, at one time, by a very young Astral Skylark was dumped at the very bottom. Part of the cover was missing, but the words ‘Kitty’s Journal! Top Secret, My Eyes Only’ were still legible.
I picked up the diary, flipping open the first few pages. Most of them had been burned quite badly and the most recent ones were undated, but I stuffed it into my pocket anyway.
“I think this might do us, kiddos,” I said, turning in a slow circle to look around the remains of the Mechanical Room. “Where are the filtration suits?”
Taxi nodded her head towards a narrow door on one wall. “That looks like a secure storage locker.”
“Ahhh, let’s see then! These war-time hazard suits were always enchanted with some very interesting spells. My father has acquired several and every one sells for quite a pretty penny,” Limerence said, trotting over to the door and popping the handle.
As the door swung open, a thick puff of colorful powder burst from inside, blanketing him from head to hooves, followed by an avalanche of junk that crashed and bounced down around his ankles. Taxi yelped and grabbed me by the collar, yanking me back. Swift took the cue and her wings burst open, sweeping the dust away from us.
Limerence looked like a rainbow-flour-covered ghost as he stood there for a few moments, one hoof upraised and the handle of the locker still glowing with his horn’s magic. He let it fade and dropped his leg, turning to face us.
“Detective… I am… more than slightly upset to report that I have discovered where the Cult of Nightmare Moon were keeping their Beam reserves and sexual aids.” Very slowly, like a tree falling in a storm, Limerence dropped onto his haunches, then slid onto his stomach. “Aristrotle save me, I... do believe this is going to be undignified.”
I shut my eyes and tried to fortify myself. The night had been extremely long and extremely taxing.
“Lim… does that spell of yours for cleansing toxins from the blood work on Beam?” I asked, trying to think quickly. I could manage walking pace, at least.
Limerence gave his head a firm shake, then blinked a few times as he stared up at me. “It may. Oh… heavens. The visual effects of this drug do come on very quickly, don’t they? Ehh, pardon me, yes… I’ll just… cast it shall I?”
His horn lit up and I ducked as a blast of explosive energy shot from the tip just passed one of my ears and hit the far wall with a crack of splitting masonry.
“Hrm… it seems I am being… uh… heh… affected,” Limerence replied as a slightly goofy smile crept onto his slim face. “Shall I try again?”
“No! Celestia, no!” I barked, covering my head with one leg. “Just...sit still and let us try to wash this crap off. Sweets? Any ideas?”
My driver made a soft noise and I turned to find her with both hooves stuffed in her mouth.
“Could you hold the laughing hyena act and get him a towel, please?”
She tried force the grin off her muzzle as she pulled a rag from her saddlebag, along with a rubber sock which she slipped on and began trying to wipe the beam off of Lim’s flanks.
Geranium wasn’t feeling nearly so helpful.
“Bwaaahahaha! Oh, Detective! I needed that!” she howled, rolling back and forth on the carpet. Her tail slapped against my legs and I gave her a firm swat that did nothing to quiet her laughter. “He’s going to be higher than a kite for the next four hours! That’s if he’s lucky!”
“Mmm… Detective, I never noticed how… how nice a shade of yellow Miss Taxi is. It’s quite aesthetically… pleasing.” Limerence smiled and put his hoof on my driver’s shoulder, gently running his hoof in little circles as she tried to mop the powdered beam out of his mane.
Rather than smack him, she actually blushed. I suppose there’s something in the feminine mind that appreciates a genuine compliment, even if the pony in question is wrecked on psychedelics.
“Um… damn. Hardy, this stuff isn’t coming out. At least, not enough to matter. We need to get him to a shower or something.”
Swift shut her eyes and sat down as a ladybug wiggled out of her mane and perched itself on her nose. After a few seconds, she shook her head. “Tourniquet says the only showers are on the top few floors where the Sleeping Willow dust is everywhere. Queenie managed to pull most of the ladybugs back before the prisoner incapacitation system went off, but that means they can’t see anything up there.”
“Can this night get any worse?” I groaned. “Ugh. Alright. Fine. Can I get a set of those rubber socks, Sweets?” Taxi paused in her attempts to get the Beam out of Limerence’s fur just long enough to retrieve four latex socks from her bag. Limerence, meanwhile, nuzzled up against her side like a foal, batting at the air in front of his nose and giggling, dreamily.
I tugged on the socks, then high-stepped over to the storage locker, carefully trying not to raise any of the cloud of dust blanketing the carpet. Shifting a four-pound purple dildo out of the way, I covered my muzzle with the edge of my collar and leaned into the closet.
Aside the mountains of sex toys and a broken glass bottle that was leaking a steady stream of prismatic powder, the only contents were a sign that said ‘Filtration Suit Instructions’ and one plastic face-mask and oxygen bottle with the word ‘slut’ painted across it in red lipstick. I glanced at the crap on the floor and kicked a heap of plastic clothing. It unrolled into a very strange outfit covered in metal rings, the back of which was sewn shut with black ribbon.
“Erm... all these butterflies…” Limerence muttered, then pinched his eyes shut and blinked a few times. “Detective? When did you get here?” He glanced down. “Oh...you found the filtration outfit?”
“It... looks like somepony messed with it,” Taxi said, poking at the suit leg with one toe. “This is like the ones we had in the Narcotics department at D.P.D. for handling chemical labs. They gave it some sort of hood made of...oh please let that be vinyl and not leather...”
Geranium rocked back on her heels, laughing so hard she started choking. “It’s a gimp suit! Oh Celestia save me, they turned your precious damn hazmats into gimp suits!”
****
I felt better.
I’d had to throw some things, then smash a few of the pews, kick a boiler, and sit in a corner with my head against the wall for a few minutes, but I felt better.
The filtration suits were a lost cause. Containment was totally compromised and we could only find one of the face masks in the mess of sex toys.
Limerence was trying to chew on Swift’s tail, and was writing what I'm sure he believed was thoughtful flavor analysis on Swift's flank. Taxi was chasing Geranium around the temple with an anatomically improbable black rubber phallus while the other mare screamed for me to do something to stop the beating. My driver was surprisingly spry on three legs and the lawyer’s were short. Her flanks were going to ache in the morning.
My exhausted mind processed all of this activity with the cool, collected detachment of the completely screwed.
The truth is that there is only so far up a creek a pony can be before they start to find a sort of serene acceptance of the inevitable. Yes, you might be heading for a waterfall, but you’ve got a minute or so to think and compose yourself before it’s here and those moments are precious. It’s a very liberating time.
“Sir! Sir, he’s licking me again!” Swift yelped, shoving our librarian over onto his back, where he abandoned his taste testing to began wheeling his rear legs at the air and barking like a terrier.
“Detective, make her stooop!” Geranium whined as Taxi landed another solid hit on her backside.
“Harby, comb hode her dowd!” Taxi shouted around the dildo.
I pushed away from the wall, trotting in a little circle before settling down on my belly. It was lovely on the nice, warm carpeted floor, if one could get past the stink of drying blood or the heavy hand of fate slowly metering out the last few of one’s heartbeats.
****
Things calmed down a little in the next fifteen minutes, although Limerence was still attempting to hide under Swift’s wings, muttering something about ‘extraordinary fluffies’. Geranium was nursing her sore backside while Taxi tended to Cerise, getting the girl ready to travel. She’d managed to lash together a couple of cultist’s robes with bits of broken wood and scavenged bondage straps into a makeshift stretcher. A length of nylon rope made a functional hitch and yoke.
“So… obviously we can’t just sit here. There’s more than a few ponies upstairs who need medical treatment, not including us, so we need to get out tonight. What is this ‘Plan B’ you keep pussyfooting around?” Taxi asked as she put the finishing touches on the sledge.
“Yeah, and how could it be worse than coming in was?” Swift asked.
As gently as I could, I heaved Cerise onto the stretcher and pulled a bit of cloth back over her, then stepped away and straightened my trenchcoat. “Coming in was dry, kid. Let’s see if we can make it upstairs and have Tourniquet give us some directions. Oh, and grab that face-mask and the oxygen supply from in the storage locker. See if you can clean the Beam off a bit, too. We’ll probably need it.” She nodded, then bopped our librarian on the forehead as he tried to nibble on her ear. “And...could you get a rope or something we can use for a leash? I’d rather not carry Limerence, too.”
****
I hauled, while Swift kept Cerise on the stretcher. It was agonizing work, but I’m an earth pony and that’s what we’re for. Limerence hadn’t let me near his watch to check what the time was, nor would he check himself; something about ‘dissociating his quantum vibratiums’. Still, we managed good time once we’d made it up the first set of stairs.
Geranium leaned on the wall beside me, panting heavily as we stopped in the empty hallway of the secure wing.
“Alright, genius. Now what?” she asked.
I ignored her and called out, “Tourniquet! You up, honey?”
“I’m up, Detective! Ventilation systems are at full power, but it’ll still be about two days before I can completely clear the upstairs halls of Sleeping Willow.”
“Good girl. Maybe you can help me with something? I need to know which way to service hatch thirty one double zed?”
“The… high flow hatch? Why do you need that?” she asked, sounding confused.
“It’s the only other way out of this building besides the secret sewer door.”
“A-are you leaving already?”
“Don’t worry, honey! We aren’t leaving you alone and we’ll be sending our own people along, too. You can reach Swift through Queenie anywhere in the city. In the mean time-” I slapped Geranium across the shoulders and she stumbled forward, then glared at me over her shoulder. “-our dear friend, Geranium, is sticking around.to oversee things here. Incidentally, you have my permission to electrocute her if she does anything stupid or traitorous.”
“I’m what?!” the lawyer choked out. “Not a damn chance in this world am I sticking around this place!”
“Did I, at any point, suggest you had any other options? This is presently one of the safest places in Detrot for you. Your friends at the law-firm can’t get in here and the only ponies who can mostly don’t want to kill you. Tourniquet will keep you alive.”
Geranium’s eyes were so wide I was slightly worried she might have injured her optic nerve. “You’re… completely… I… you…”
“You can try running, if you like, but I’d give you about two days before they dispatch an assassin once Skylark fails to report in,” I said, then smiled as a nasty thought crossed my mind and I added, “We’re kipping in the Skids, by the way. You know the Skids? It’s a place where children have to learn martial combat because the grass is magically irradiated and will fight back when you try to eat it.”
Her expression was wavering between fear and apoplexy, but it finally settled on rage. I thought she might swing at me and I readed myself to catch her leg if she did.
“Damn you forever, Hard Boiled. Damn you and your stupid cab driver, and your librarian, and your ridiculous little pegasus,” she snarled, poking me in the chest to emphasize each word. “I know I’m not a good pony, but at least I’m not the kind of pony who gets everypony they love killed on some insane crusade. I hope you find out one day when you’re standing over the body of someone you cared about just how far the consequences of your actions can reach!”
With that, Geranium swung around on her heel and galloped off down the hall on her three good legs, tears spotting the floor behind her as she ran. Where she might be going, I couldn’t say.
“Tourniquet, could you keep an eye on her and maybe lead her to some ice-cream?” I asked, trying to stave off a spark of guilt at how I’d treated Geranium. She’d reminded me of my last girlfriend, up to and including the little speech about crusades and the deaths of close friends.
“Yes, Detective. You’re gonna send me some ponies to take care of things here?” she asked.
“And to keep you company,” I added. “These will be ponies you can trust.”
“Oh that’s... that’s just awesome! Okay, the high flow hatch is down through the double security doors at the end of the next hall.”
****
“This...is your ‘Plan B’?!” Taxi gasped as she held both hooves over her nose, trying to breathe through her mouth.
“I’m ‘fraid so. You got any better ideas, you just put them in the suggestion box,” I replied, looking down into the hole in the floor. The pipe below was too dark to see, but I did pick up the sound of swiftly moving water. “This runs straight to the bay. According to the blueprints, this will dump us in an open air storage pool which has another pipe at the end. It’s a straight shot from here to the lagoon about thirty meters down flow. Twenty seconds in the drink, then we’re out and home free.”
My driver’s curiosity about ‘Plan B’ had lasted until we made our way into Waste Disposal. The smell that boiled out of the depths when I opened the wide hatch in the floor almost sent the three sober ponies in the room running. Limerence was still too stoned to notice, but he did start trying to wipe invisible butterflies off his nose.
“You… want me to go in there, Sir?” Swift asked, incredulously. “It smells like...like poop!”
I nodded, sagely, adjusting the nylon strap around my neck as I pulled Cerise’s litter up beside me. “It would. It’s the black-water waste line for the northern half of the city.”
“You mean that’s half the city worth of-”
“Yep.”
“Hardy... we can’t go down there,” Taxi opined. “I mean, I’m hurt. Cerise is going to drown. Limerence is too high to see straight-”
“It’s this or you wait here while I go drive your cab back to civilization for help,” I replied, moving over to pull the oxygen mask from under Swift’s wing. Kneeling beside Cerise, I fitted the mask over her head as tightly as I could, tucking the oxygen bottle in beside her and turning on the flow. As I’d hoped, it was relatively air-tight, even against her fur. “I’ll have Cerise attached to me. You keep hold of Limerence’s leash and fish him out when we’re at the other end before he sinks.”
“Sir… can’t we just… I don’t know. Can we do almost anything else in the whole world?” Swift whimpered.
A soft glow suffused her body and she yelped as she was lifted into the air, drifting across the room like a balloon off its tether.
I blinked up at our librarian, who was laying on his side with his horn glowing weakly.
“You’re all… specular… but you should stop mouth-forging... complain-y… audio-isms. Mister… Mister Detective Pulchritudiousness is doing all the optimizable... occurrences… he… of which he is can doing,” Limerence mumbled with a distracted expression on his face, pawing at his vest as though perplexed how it’d gotten on his body.
“P-put me down! Lim! Please!” Swift squeaked, spiraling over onto her back.
“Oh… ah… yes… Apologies. Insufferiffic… arcanopointy… object,” he muttered, reaching up and flicking the tip of his horn with his toe.
The light vanished.
My partner fell.
There was a splash and a shriek of what might or might not have been fear that was quickly swept away down the flowing pipe. It sounded awfully angry for fear.
“Well… that… decides that then, I guess. Geronimo?”
Hahahaha Love that ending!
What nasty cliffhangers you have there....
Why do I not feel at all Wierd about reading this at 3AM?
You bastard Lim! How dare you do that to poor Swift!
Still, Swift got a new job, and a cute tattoo!
Couldn't help but notice you put in a Scootaloo-chicken joke there, how could you? So cliche.
ah - plan B. Allons-y!
Still can't wait to see the Chiefs reaction to Hardy trying to explain this.
nice chapter. been a while. also lim on beam is rather hilarious.
....... who boy there is gonna be a lot of splannin to do. but now they do have a powerful resource and ally in tourniquet
Skylark was ******'s daughter? Brilliant!
Aw, man that chapter was great. Had me in stitches multiple times. Poor Lim and Swift.
I expected more bull than shit in Plan B...
Isn't it canon that Swift is Scoots' granddaughter or something? Detective Parrot needs to be taught a lesson about obliquely insulting national heroes.
And that Trixie bit... D:
In the opening: "anthropomorphic".
Giant, plate-wielding MONKEYS!
Finally out of the prison! Going out Shawshank Style!
Act 2, Chapter 38: "New Boss in Town"- Well besides something from workaholics, its probably just talking about Swift.
So all dat Skylark and TYou know who... my god...
And holy fuck,we have spoiler text tool now! Sweet.
I love Lim's reaction to Beam. It's just perfect.
5199587 I don't know. Why aren't you in bed?!
5200178 That was actually Kasen. I was stunned at how well he voices Limerence sometimes and this was a really standout instance.
5200069 Yeeeah, but...I do ask people to avoid posting heavy spoilers for the main plot in the comments, even with the spoiler text. It's tough to resist the urge to look at those spoiler texts when they're out there, particularly if you're mentally asking what the fuck is going on.
5199988 Sheesh, yeah. I was really divided on including that. Trixie isn't a bad pony and thinking what finding out what'd happened would do to her felt really sad. Still, she's old or dead. It's just one of those things.
5199983 There's just something about Limerence that makes his pain constantly funny, and Swift is like a puppy with her head stuck in jar.
-Chessie
5200036
Oh, shit, you're right, that should read "Equipomorphic," shouldn't it?
5200178
We'd originally written Lim with something of a simplified vocabulary during those sequences, but, upon consideration, I liked the idea that multiple entries from his extensive vocabulary were trying to come out simultaneously as he tried to express himself under the influence.
--CEO Kasen
Scarlet's going to have FUN scrubbing Swift clean.
It always amazes me how well it works pitting noir against the relentless adorableness of ponies. Call me mad, but I love it when adorableness wins and/or holds its own.
5200417 Swift and Tourniquet are both cute as buttons. I just adore writing them.
I think the nature of pony is to be cute and a tad dark together. Even the show tackles some really tough issues and, despite the frequently sugary exterior, there's some real meat underneath.
It's the cuteness that makes the darkness more palatable.
-Chessie
5200318 I think Scarlet would have more fun scrubbing Hardy...heeheehee!
-Chessie
Equestria's scariest prison is now in the hooves of two kids. Be afraid.
Poor Lim. Here's to hoping Queenie recorded everything to blackmail him later.
It's at this point where Hardy just throws his hooves up in the air and just calmly accepts the fact that his world is bizzare. Hilarious.
Somehow I still think the lawyer is going to die anyways, even in supermax.
Also, Scootachicken, really? Considering what I know about the inner thigh cutie mark joke based on the flash animation mistake, that context makes this a whole lot worse.
Dangit Swift, you've been in prison for less than a day, and you've already got a tattoo. Really?
Well, I must say that that turned out better than I expected. Based on the amount of reluctance they were putting up I thought they would be fighting something through there. Not to mention that Swift got a pretty sweet power up!
And it's nice to finally get a non immediate danger ending again. These ponies definitely deserve a break.
However, how could you do that to Trixie? I know a lot of people don't really care for her, but even if she isn't really around anymore that is still one cruel twist you could have left out. I know this is dark and all, but that feels more like something for just shock value, and I kind of thought you two were above that.
5201825 Yeeeah... but I couldn't really justify how Skylark would be... well, Skylark... without giving her a bit of tragic backstory. I also wanted to remind everyone that everybody is somebody's kid, no matter how evil they might be. Nature of the beast where writing a villain is concerned that I think too many authors forget.
-Chessie
Personally, I'm actually a huge fan of Trixie, and part of why is that she >is< a tragic figure. Her need for fame and attention has led her to do bad things, which makes her at least a little interesting. Skylark could easily have been a child of Trixie's - if her desire for eventual recognition had gone far wronger than her mother's had.
--CEO Kasen
Awwww, you are amazing
While episode with Skylark's mom was sad - it felt very real. You are 100% right about every villain being somebody's kid.
I wonder what is in her diary....
Overall this chapter felt light and I am thankful for it - it was needed to easy tension a bit.
Cannot wait for next one
5200641
i.ytimg.com/vi/zFrUf9VCv44/maxresdefault.jpg
SMELLS LIKE POO GAS!
5202036
Yeah, OK, I'll give you that.
I don't know why, but this dark twist in a story of even darker twists just really got to me for some reason. Still does actually.
Petty revenge, or some facet of Taxi's Special Talent coming to light.
I wonder...
There is also the fringe belief, espoused by notable conspiracy theorist Tin Foil Cap, that Cutie Marks are a seal of ownership by Celestia who is in actuality an equine avatar of a juvenile, Many-Angled Great Old One with a fierce, intense, draconic fixation for her "hoard" of pretty pastel ponies. Adherents point out Celestia's constant use of the possessive "My little ponies", the subtle societal stigma against "blank-flanks", and the fact that every foe since Luna's return from her Late Lamentable Lunar Leave facing Equestria was obliterated, thus paving the way for a total Equestrian hegemony over all of Equus.
When interviewed by sensationalist investigative journalist Yellow Press, Celestia merely chuckled and wryly commented on the latest Royal Conspiracy de jour:
"My little ponies certainly have vivid imaginations do they not? Some ponies will just believe anything they can get their hooves on".
She then returned to discussing her plan to introduce tax breaks to companies that contribute to their employees' foals' cute-ceañeras as well as funding a "Making My Mark: Discovering My Special Talent" public education campaign.
Conspiracy theorists like Tin Foil are quick to point out that Celestia never explicitly denied the allegations...
They just rebooted and reset Tourniquet. she now has at least 15 years of updates, patches, and service packs to download and install. It could very well take days...
Skylark et al have truly ascended to Slip Stitch levels of zen and the art of pony prison programming.
Ouch
That is quite an indictment. More darkness from Taxi's past...
Steady on there Big Apple MacGyver! You will never get anywhere with a mere pen-knife. Everypony knows that you need paperclips to construct your escape tools.
Sweet Celestia! It's full of stars!
My eldest brother used a Mac computer for school. That start-up chime sound has been indelibly burned into my memory.
I forgot all about the bunny patch. If my doctor diagnoses me with a terminal case of cuteabetes, I will know who to blame.
(Unless of course Swift's lil' bunny happens to be one from Caerbannog.)
5201269
Not just any tattoo, a prison tattoo.
- Glow would probably discuss the finer logistical, tactical, and security points of having a powerful spell construct etched on your body.
- Stella would offer make-up tips to cover it up when Swift is out in public.
- Swift's PACT squad mates would ooohh and aaahh over it before showing her the tattoo their entire unit got when they successfully drove off the Ursa Minor.
- Scarlet would fuss over the fact that the design clashes with her mane.
Four minutes? You are certainly slipping there Lim. Dom's going to be so upset and disappointed that he will slip back into his native tongue to chastise you:
That's far too slow!
I'll have you know
That dear Zefu
Can do it in two
I would be careful with those if I was you Hardy. That is the same kit Ruby was wearing...
That may be quite pragmatic hear and now, but that kind of mindset is what lays the groundwork for the corruption problems they face in the current day. Consistency of application is pretty fundamental to the law...
Oh my.
I guess Limerence will live up to his name, given beam's emotional effects.
I imagine this is the background music that is playing in poor Lim's head.
The characteristic oral fixation of beam users on tail hair was quickly noticed by the early beam researchers. They hypothesised that BeM was magically manipulating ponies' thaumatergical meridian end nodes in the hair follicles. The researchers presented this to the Equestrian Department of Defence as an opportunity to research a solution to a problem plaguing Equestria's combat cosmetologists since time immemorial: How to maintain a perfect coiffure throughout high-g, transonic manoeuvres for pegasi, quantum temporal displacement for unicorns, and full contact combat for earth ponies.
On paper it was an Equestrian Department of Defence research study titled Beryllium Methylrefractate Enhanced Follicle Stabilisation. In actuality it was an excuse to fund weekly orgies with tax payer monies.
The burgeoning field of Chemical Cosmetology Material Engineering came to an abrupt halt when the Dean of Alchemical Development walked in on his daughter intensely, passionately "researching" with with several of the research team. The study was quickly cancelled shortly thereafter...
5203912 I love you Sig. I swear, I look so forward to your comments every single chapter.
I was wondering what your thoughts on Skylark's parentage were, though.
-Chessie
Think ya mean 'can'.
I think this comma isn't necessary. Also, seriously, a "Scootaloo is Best Chicken" joke?!.... okay, you win, take all my internets!
This.... this just made me sad. ... and I don't mean the typo.
Extra periods here.
...what are the dimensions of a four-pound dil-
No. No, I know Kasen has the answer written down somewhere, and the answer is inevitably going to be "too long. And also too thick. And extremely uncomfortable."
Though having said that, giving that to Jade as "evidence" would be frigging hilarious.
Another outstanding chapter. I can't wait to see what happens next.
Oh, and I loved the hint about Trixie and Fancy Pants, very clever.
And strangely, I feel that Geranium will sooner or later slap Hardy and then kiss him. I just have that feeling.
5204312 I'm depressed to admit I own one. I sometimes leave it on the coffee table when I have guests over.
It's hilarious.
-Chessie
Hmm...
Nice portrayal of police corruption here. I like how you have Swift being uncomfortable with them stealing jewelery from a dead person, and Hardy's sitting there running her through the moral backflips he uses to justify it to himself. That's actually really common in reality, where new officers learn corrupt behaviors from veteran ones teaching it to them.
That's called the "Satan Effect", if you didn't know. It's a HUGE deal in the field of Managerial Psychology. You should look it up, if you haven't already.
5204312
First we need to convert these heathen units into something god and Brussels almighty intended us to use:
4 pounds => 1810 grams
Much better.
A bit of research and an email to the support staff at one of the "toy" websites to determine what most objects of this variety are constructed with:
Dow Corning's Silastic brand 7-6840 biomedical grade silicone rubber.
A quick shufti through Dow Corning's data sheets to find the density of 7-6840 silicone:
1.13 grams per cubic centimetre.
We will need to make some assumptions on the diameter before we can calculate the total length. A bit of browsing and tallying through the "toy" website gives the diameter:
(At this point Significant Other looked over my shoulder and asked if I was making a Christmas wish-list)
minimum: 3 centimetres
median: 3.6 centimetres
maxium: 8 centimetres
Seeing that we are working with nearly 2 kilos of silicone, we will use 8 centimetres for our diameter.
We can now plug these numbers into WolframAlpha and solve for the length:
(Assume a cylinder for the purposes of calculation; non-cylindrical shapes or non-Euclidean geometry will be left as an Exercise For The Reader™)
1814 / 1.13 = pi * (4^2) * ?
Final length x diameter:
32 centimetres x 8 centimetres
(or ~12.75 inches x ~3.25 inches if you are unenlightened)
I am going to have to agree with Felidae0 here. That is definitely too big.
(Unless you have a desperate desire to understand what a pencil-topper feels like...)
#2big4me
On a more serious note:
5203986
I certainly agree with what 5199816, 5199988, and 5200069 said. It was nice to see Trixie settle down and have a family.
Not exactly all that happy though. It appears Ebon rebelled and dove all 4 hooves first into a life of larceny and burglary. I do not recall any mention of Ebon performing shows so I could easily imagine her using all that training Trixie gave her instead to provide distractions and diversions for her heists and later demagoguery when she founded the Lunar Passage. I cannot help but wonder if Trixie died early, heart-broken by the reports of her daughter using Trixie's Special Talents to commit increasingly audacious crimes and robberies. If Trixie was indeed married to Fancy, then the situation was even worse, since Ebon apparently turned around and looted her parents' mausoleum.
The fire has some nasty implications. It certainly seems possible that her parents perished in the blaze. (Whether or not Ebon was the one who started the fire we may never know. Faulty wiring? Magic trick gone wrong? Or coldly removing links to her past?) If she was orphaned at an early enough age, I wonder if she met Cosmo at the orphanage...
Ebon/Astral seems to be the first villain who committed crimes out of selfish desires (unless I missed something; certainly possible). Jingle wanted to help Cosmo and Honey Bee. Saussurea wanted to help Tourniquet. Even Taxi has gone to illegal, necromantic lengths to help Hardy. Ebon on the other hoof appears to have been given everything needed to succeed in life, but instead turned them down to pursue a career as a thief and later a demagogue with aspirations of apotheosis.
5202036
Have you read The Here and Now?
Interesting little piece of TragiTrixie that does an excellent job of "show, don't tell"
5210782 Even Hard Boiled isn't immune. He's trying to save the city, but...he's not a paragon of virtue. Far from it. Still, he's in a very dark world trying to survive.
I always found Blackjack a tad...unbelievable. I mean...I love Project Horizons, don't get me wrong, but Blackjack was simply *too* good and most of the evil shit she did was largely out of stupidity or failing to think ahead.
Hardy is...less good.
-Chessie
5211134 I say again, been there, done that...walked funny for a bit.
-Chessie
To be fair, it IS a terrible idea: she's likely to get an infection and he's almost as likely to drown.. Meanwhile the inside of Supermax is a relatively safe place for some of them to stay with Cerise until the others get back...
5212471
Yes, and I'm liking that, though, to be fair, it feels like you may be buttering him and Taxi up for an eventual death...
5212613 I promise, if they die, it won't be disappointing. I still haven't decided if they'll survive the end of the story. Granted, at this rate, they might not survive next chapter.
-Chessie
Great Chapter! This is why I love this series. Cute and dark, sugar and spice. And very very funny. Swift has a habit of accumulating acquaintances and upgrades.
I have my suspicions where the main plot is heading, just not sure who sits at the center of it all. Currently three main suspects.
Ah, that was amazing.
Is it bad that I would totally do high Lim?
5221210 Oh god, there will be Limerence shipping after this...I can tell.
-Chessie
5221327
I ship Germanium and Hardy... and that line about his ex-girlfriend only cemented it.
great, now all swift needs is a big purple top hat and some wide rimmed yellow glasses...
encrypted-tbn2.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcSBVGkXqa6A4Z8_B8TOvhbn3QR0_A2P8ogkPRudflSDnCJCHufA
what was that about starting a riot?
5203912
yeah, ascended is the right word
looks like those wings of yours may have been to effective
.... archive binged this... *passes out*
worth it...
also I think given the commentary on the items in the trunk being stolen Skylark STOLE the hat from Trixie's heir.
"Damn you forever, Hard Boiled. Damn you and your stupid cab driver, and your librarian, and your ridiculous little pegasus,” she snarled, poking me in the chest to emphasize each word. “I know I’m not a good pony, but at least I’m not the kind of pony who gets everypony they love killed on some insane crusade. I hope you find out one day when you’re standing over the body of someone you cared about just how far the consequences of your actions can reach!”
I sense foreshadowing.
5210664 That's not the one called the "Thor", is it? The one that looks designed to smite heathens during the crusades, but made of brightly colored latex?
5227153 That'd be the one.
-Chessie