Howling winds whistled past Sunset through the concrete jungle she called home as she gunned down the cold street at a reasonable speed.
“OBEY THE SPEED LIMIT YOU NUTCASE!!”
Well, reasonable enough. She finally found the time in her busy schedule to stake out that nightclub she found a lead on.
Between her academics, training, that absurd request for self defense lessons from Flash, and her regular patrols just kept her too tired to act.
But this time, nothing would stand in her-
“This is Canterlot PD, please stand down and no harm will come to you.”
And there it was. A police cruiser had spotted her and decided that this was the night to fill a quota.
Swerving to the left, Sunset began to race down a residential district and pumped her bike with a bit of magic.
As the fuzz came in for the kill, a thick gray smoke filled fog had covered the street.
“This is officer Sentry, please be advised of a black sports cycle resisting arrest. No licence plate, rider in skin tight black leather and studded jacket with matching helmet. Over.”
“Copy that Sentry.”
Of course, unbeknownst to the officer, his perp hadn't left. In fact she was rather busy bugging his vehicle so his comms ended up in a dedicated server in Caritas.
His “Dispatcher” in this case was one Drevlornswath of the Dethwok clan. What? All that theater training had to get used somewhere.
With that, the cruiser left none the wiser and Sunset was free to go back to her musings. Her target was located in a club in the darker part of Canterlot City.
Skinny broads bound in leather, beggars lining the streets, the smell of booze and waste permeating the air. It reminded her of Old Town back in her Canterlot.
Though the drugs may not be the same, the disease will never change. Stopping at a red light, a dark presence echoed from nowhere.
“Hey there miss! Spare some change?” Sunset looked down at a tall, gray skinned man. Golden yellow sclera surrounded crimson irises, snow white brows arched over his eyes. His spiky black and white hair was well combed, well cut, and slicked back in a business like fashion. He wore a dark green t-shirt with black slacks and a long sleeved green plaid shirt was tied around his waist.
“Uh sorry sir I'm kinda busy.” Sunset replied in surprise. ‘He was NOT there before.’ She thought.
“Ah, sorry to hear that miss. Name's Chester. Sorry if I bugged you.” ‘Chester’ Gave a curt wave as Sunset kicked off again.
Returning once again to her musings, the night club Sunset wanted to find was called Stockholm, and the vamp she was hunting went by “The Master”.
Judging by Wesley’s reaction to his name however…
“You want to fight The Master alone!? Slayer or no Miss Shimmer, I will not allow you to walk into the hornet’s nest without backup!” Wesley shouted in protest… as he was promptly planted on his posterior and the bottom of a staff held at his head.
Sunset rolled her eyes with a smile and dropped her weapon and held out her hand. “You've gotten better, but I was trained by a master of his craft.”
“Well, I'm happy to know beating on librarians was part of your curriculum in… where was it?”
“Equestria, Wesley, it's not that hard to remember.” With a flick of her wrists and a wave of her arms, Sunset’s hands were set ablaze as her magic set the training gear for the day back on their rack.
“Yes, the mythical land were friendship is magic. More reason to bring someone along on your excursion.” Wesley fixed his glasses back unto his eyes and wiped the sweat from his brow as he fixed himself a glass of water.
“Come on Price, if the building's infested with blood suckers then Amber and me’ll just torch the place.”
As it stood… no. The building was entirely vampire free. In fact, it was quite clean for a back alley dance house of vice and sin.
“Amber,” Sunset whispered as she made her way through the wave of bodies and booze. “You smell anything even remotely demonic?”
“Mewww…” Her tiny companion began to sniff through the sweat and alcohol until he found a scent that smelled almost human. “ARF!”
There in the middle of the oppressive lighting and grunge that made up the dance floor was her target.
The Master, an incredibly skinny and tall hairless beast, was wearing a ripped pair of black skinny denim that showed off his left calf, right shin, and both kneecaps. A sleeveless “Master of Puppets” Metallica t-shirt haphazardly ripped at the hem exposing just a hairline of his stomach, his right hand curled into a fist high into the air, and a tequila sunrise held firmly yet daintily in his left as he partied. Hard.
“And Bingo was his name-o. Let's bag him and tag hi-”
A soft hand landed on Sunset’s shoulder, she turned quickly with the intent of sending the body the hand was attached to sprawling… only to find a very young girl with long flowing flame like orange hair connected to said hand.
“Sunset?” The girl asked. She was wearing tight workout pants, white sneakers with thunderbolts on them, a white top that was cut off at her midriff and a baby blue sports sweater.
“Spitfire!? What are you doing here?” Sunset questioned.
“My folks own this place! Wild right!?” Spitfire pulled the unwitting Sunset into a slow groove to the smooth sounds of a Santana riff. “You looking for somebody special, or can I keep you for the night?” Spitfire casually brushed a strand of hair off of Sunset’s cheek.
Sunset swayed easily with her impromptu partner as she locked eyes. “I didn't think you were…”
“Lot of things you don't know sweetheart.” Spitfire said with a dainty giggle.
“Look, any other night I'd be more than happy to “dance” with you, but I'm on business.” Sunset said as she spun Spitfire into a dip and inched her face closer to her own.
“M-maybe I can help…” Spitfire shakily said through her panting. The pair righted themselves vertically and moved to the rhythm of a new beat.
“Know anything about big, bald, and beautiful dancing dead center?”
“Yeah, calls himself The Master. I just call him uncle M,” Spitfire thusly lead them off the floor to one of many a soundproof booth that lined the edges of the room. “Something tells me you aren't here for a dance.”
The two take their seats as Sunset closes the booth door and Spitfire taps away at a built in tablet.
“Do you know about…?”
“Bout him being gastronomically challenged? Yeah, he lives off donations and small game. Why?”
“Kids from school are starting to disappear with a hell of a lot more frequency than I like, and Flash was almost on the menu.”
“Sentry’s kid? Aw man Dad’s not gonna like this. Look, whatever's going down it isn't Uncle M. I can vouch, but we can wait til closing to sort out this mess.”
A knock at the door took their attention. The door opened to reveal The Master, a tray filled with two burgers, a large plate of fries, and a large chocolate shake with two straws.
“I couldn't help but overhear your conversation ladies. May I?” His constant vampire face unnerved Sunset somewhat, but in no way affected Spitfire.
“Uncle M! Come in, come in!” Spitfire said happily as she made space for the vampire. “You bring something for yourself?”
The Master pulled out a small bag of blood labeled O- and began to sip from a tube attached to the packet.
“Mm, so what's this about missing high schoolers?” The vampire asked.
“Hang on. You're not gonna attack me? Or take Spitfire for a hostage? Aren't you-”
“Soulless? Once. That was a long time ago, and I've known Spitfire since she was in diapers.”
“Uncle Emmmm!” Spitfire wailed.
“But I can tell you that no one in this building, block, or district is a vampire.” The Master continued. “Of course, word from the grapevine is that a new queen came in from Crystal City. There's a war coming Slayer, and anyone who isn't with her is against her.”
Sunset looked at the pair before her, looked at her burger, then looked back at Spitfire giving her puppy-dog eyes. “Amber, it's dinner time.” Spitfire and The Master looked at Sunset with odd looks until a small white fox poked it's head from the top of Sunset’s shirt.
“Mrf.” Sunset took a bite, followed by her companion. The two continued in silence, Spitfire and her ‘uncle’ watching in awe. The two finished and gave a tiny synchronized burp, followed by a napkin pat down.
“I'm guessing the shake is for us?” Sunset asked as she motioned between herself and Spitfire.
“Wah, huh? Oh-uh yeah… yeah. Your dog is clean right?”
“He's a magical fire breathing fox. He's clean.”
“Mip!” Amber said happily.
“Why don't I leave you two lovebirds alone?” The Master asked.
Sunset and Spitfire had already begun their attack against the shake as Sunset waved a finger.
“Mm, wow that's good. Mm-well, no. We need to talk strategy. We don't have the manpower to fight a full blown street war against some pampered demon queen.” Sunset said as she licked her lips.
Spitfire started to play with her straw as The Master began to ponder.
“She's going to attack on the night of the upcoming Spring Fling. Really, it's what any Vampire leader would do when fighting high schoolers. You have a Watcher helping you?”
“Wesley Wyndam-Pryce.”
“Pfft, you are so boned.” The Master said as he picked up a fry.
“I've got five teenagers with attitude, a pylean, a son of a vampire raised in a hell dimension, and a-
“Magical Fire Breathing Fox.” The three echoed, resulting in a small fit of giggles and chuckles.
“Rainbow I know is good in a fight, but I'm not too sure about the others.” Spitfire said, while pointing a fry at Sunset.
“You've never gotten Fluttershy angry, so this one time, one of the cheerleaders gets it in her head to rig Fluttershy’s locker with a can of soda right? Wet and embarrassed, Flutters walks away and goes right into chop shop. Cheer practice rolls around and as the squad finishes up and the perp goes for her locker-”
“She’s pelted with soda pop?” Spitfire asks sarcastically.
Sunset only shook her head. “She gets sprayed with eau de skunk.”
Had Spitfire NOT swallowed her drink, she would have sprayed it all over Sunset, so she settled for choking on her own laugh. “Shy!? We talkin’ bout the same girl afraid of her own shadow!?”
“Oh yeah, for all her fears and worries, that girl is a serious tech head with a penchant for vengeance.”
“I don't suppose you have a witch with you?” Asked The Master.
Sunset raised an open palm and lit a small flame. The Master backed away slightly as Spitfire inched closer. “Archmage Spell Knight, I specialize in Pyromancy.” Sunset said as she closed her palm, snuffing the flame.
“That is so hot…” The Master gave Spitfire a very disappointed stare. “What? That's literally hot.”
The Master shook his head and put his hand on the booth door. “Slayer, I'd suggest just a little more firepower than a few teenagers and a worthless Watcher. We can all talk later, there was a couple who wanted to break themselves off a piece while I was delivering your food.” Without another word, the vampire went back out to boogie the night away in more ways than one.
Silence reigned within the booth. “Hey you wanna make out?” Until Spitfire had broken the encroaching amount of awkward with just slightly more awkward.
It was going to be a long night...