The next morning came quickly for the hippogryph; groggily, he clambered out of bed and pulled himself, unwillingly, in front of a mirror; his upper grey feathers rustled and askew, his pony coat of a significantly darker grey was uncombed and frazzled; his wings and lion’s tail needed a do-over too.
All in all, it was perfect; just the way he was used to.
“Seriously, Grimack,” uh-oh, full name, “I don’t understand why you don’t give your coat any attention!” Ember’s voice had a stern motherly tone to it.
“Because, Ember, in my line of work, the target doesn’t care if you’ve had a hooficure that morning.” Grimack responded with a sarcastic tone.
Grim headed over to the table upside the left wall; on it was a leather belt holding two short brown scabbards with multiple pouches either side of them ranging in size; one of the scabbards contained a knife; the knife was one of Grimack’s most faithful companions, well, other than Ember and Deus, but then, they had to stay with him; the knife was known as a Kukri, the main body of the blade was a cold metallic silver, a curved steel blade, in which the word ‘Schicksal’ was inscribed on both sides; the butt of the blade was metal too but imitated the look of wood.
That was interesting time in Marelin, for sure.
Fastening the belt around him like a bandolier, so the blade hung by his flank, he turned his attention to his drawers on the other side of the room; he didn’t like to keep everything in one space, why make it all an easy target?
Grimack didn’t have much in the way of possessions; apart from his kukri, he had his mother’s two leather-covered steel bracers, one of which bared her Cutie Mark.
“Ok, all set.”
Time for work.
Celestia’s rising sun greeted Grimack warmly as he locked his apartment door; it was early yet, but it was Sunday, and Grimack wanted to snag a good bounty. He trotted down the empty cobble street; Grim didn’t like to attached to places, but he had to admit, Manehattan was a beautiful place; the sleek buildings, as high as the Pegasi could fly, towering over him, making him feel strangely secure; low, but audible chatter could be heard from the bar on the opposite side of the street; the early risers, and early drinkers, whom Grim would have probably been joining had he not somewhere to be.
BZztt!
He must’ve not turned it off the night before, nothing unusual about that though, it did what it was supposed to: send him to peacefully into a world of sleepy-sleep.
Grimack reached for the radio attached his belt; the device was of a small rectangular shape, concerning simply of a small screen that labelled the few radio stations Equestria had (the introduction of electronic gadgets were still in their early days of implementation to the masses after all; and personal utensils, such as Grimack’s one-pony radio, were even newer to the scene), there was also wheel built into the side of the radio, allowing the user to scroll it through the (at the moment) few frequencies and tune into the one they wanted.
BzZtt!!
“…nce again, I’m Arctic Swing bringing, you that sweet, sweet sound of electronic-swing, as well as some old tunes to keep things, ahem, fresh,”
The disc-jockey’s smooth, rumbly, relaxed tone sounded out of the speaker, calming even by crackling grainy radio standards, his voice crystal clear in the silence of the street and over powering the bar ambience in terms of garnering Grim’s attention.
“Word has it that there’s a new pony on the scene, going by the name Honey Muzzle and what a muzzle she has!” he chuckled at that, whether there was a sly quality to it, Grim couldn’t be sure, it was just Arctic, “I’ll be sure to try and get an interview in the coming months; hopefully some music too,” he added “but until then, here’s an old favourite of my own, by the talented, the wonderful Joaf the Loaf, singing ‘Swing! Tavi, Swing!’
A click, as though something had been turned on, then a low, warm crackling that Grim knew all too well, the sound of a vinyl under needle.
The song began as Grim looked up from his radio and continued his now slightly quicker trot down the street.
If it's groove you're looking for,
then you've come to the right place…
Grim had heard the song once before but had yet to really take it in, he was busy dealing with his parent’s visiting when it played from his kitchen side, if he remembered correctly; so this time, on the way to the Bounty Boards, he’d take a proper listen.
Oh Octavia can't you see,
Classical is not the type for me…
Not that he’d ever let anypony know, but Grim was a sucker for nearly anything romantic, especially novels, but songs were definitely a close second.
Now don't you look the other way,
cause this music's here to stay…
Romance was hard to find when it came to himself however; what with him being a hippogriff and his…sexual preferences…
Now wipe that grin right off your face.
Cause it'll all be gone when you step into this place…
Well he certainly wasn’t grinning now. Companionship was something he had always wanted, and sought after, but so far, even now he was still alone.
“Oh Grim.”
Grim heard Ember’s voice, it sounded sad, almost as if she was tearing up.
“Oh I’m sorry Ember, got lost in my thoughts is all, you’d think I’d remember that you two can hear them too, but apparently not.” He chuckled at that.
“You’ll find someone.” Ember’s voice was reassuring, it had a determined tone to it.
Grim could see an office in the distance that caught his eye.
“Heh, thanks Embs.”
The term ‘someone’ had once been strange to Grimack, as it wasn’t used by anypony he knew nor anypony he knew of – but he knew that Deus and Ember were not actually ponies and, at that, not even native to Equestria, they were beings of time, they had their own lives and homes and terminology at one point, and such stories Grim loved as a foal and found even more so interesting and intriguing now that he could understand them better.
…ust gotta let it go, from everything that tells you no
Even if this is not your type of show, your type of show…
Looking up, Grim found himself in front of the Bounty Office.
Said office wasn’t a big place, nor was it grand; it was a wooden establishment spacious enough to hold around 30 ponies but even that would mean a crowded building where one had to squeeze through multiple others and wait in lines to get up to the desks.
The desks themselves were actually teller points; glass panes in which the teller-ponies stood behind, and allowed for bounty information, payments and other items to be slipped to and from clients via the small rectangular opening at the bottom of them.
Seeing as it was still early, Grimack set up an excuse in his mind that allowed him to check out the Bounty Office for a second and still be early enough to snag any possible better bounties from the Bounty Board a few feet outside of the city.
Grimack walked in and found the place to be inhabited only by three other ponies and the tellers themselves.
One of said ponies appeared to be leaving, another talking quietly to a teller and the third one, a tall dark green Pegasus with fluorescent lime green eyes that seemed to almost light up his near surroundings, had said eyes pointed straight at Grim.
“Ain’t seen ‘round ‘ere before.”
It was a sure statement, not a hint of question or intrigue in his voice whatsoever.
And it was true; Grim normally took up jobs on Bounty Boards, which were boards scattered about different towns and locations, most commonly found next to an area’s welcome sign, if they had one; these jobs were for ‘less legitimate undertaking’ – not that Grim was a fan of the dirtier jobs, he just wasn’t a qualified bounty hunter in the eyes of the law and wasn’t sure he’d fancy himself being one – working for a government he barely knew was not his idea of a good time nor life well spent, It was just that he had always wondered about the pay, he was told if you got to the better ranks, it got real interesting.
So what did this pony want?
“So, you new, rook?”
Grimack was about to open his mouth to speak but the pony continued,
“Ah, yah must be – Do yah how it all works?” the tall green Pegasus leaned in closer, Grimack was thought about the question for a second; technically he did, but then again, maybe the official Bounty rules were different – Bounty Boards were frowned upon and there was talk of seeing them banned altogether, so if Bounty Offices worked in the same way, at least he would have an argument.
Grimack looked at the Pegasus and shook his head, choosing not to voice any words.
Grimack was sure he saw a twinkle in the green pony’s eye, if only for a second.
“Well, this here is a Bounty Office, but I expect ya knew that already,” he chuckled quietly but heartily, “See those ponies over there?”
Grimack turned his head to see the teller-ponies, most of them shuffling papers, one or two drinking what smelled like RichBit coffee (Grim knew that commercial scent of those hoof-grounded coffee beans with that distinct Prance spice anywhere) and one in the far left sleeping, head in hooves.
“They’re the teller-ponies, you visit ‘em when ya arrive, give ‘em yer ID which they’ll verify,”
He checked to see if Grimack was following; Grimack nodded to show he was.
“Then, based on your rank, which will have shown up on your ID, they’ll present you with corresponding jobs and bounties – Better rank, bigger jobs, better pay, as I’m sure you can imagine.”
Again Grimack nodded, “What are these ranks about then -- who assigns them?”
“Who assi-!? A true greenhorn, ‘ey?” That twinkle was back.
“You have to be trained on a Bounty Hunting course – at one of the stations,” The Pegasus explained, “Nearest one is Whitepike Station, or MadShade, if you’re feeling real deadly.” He flashed Grimack a toothy grin.
“The teller-ponies relay all the jobs you take, and decline, back to your station and your personal commander-in-chief – They keep a close eye on it all and will promote you based on your progress, activity, methods and overall record,” He continued, “Looking for my own promotion soon on that note.” he added as an afterthought.
“And you are?” Grimack was curious as to who this Everest-green pony was, and why he was telling him everything so...enthusiastically.
“My name’s Bear Trap, although my first name has been known to offend a few so you’re much more than welcome to call me Trap, and I’d prefer it too, if I’m honest.”
“Well hello, Trap, I’m Grimack.” Without knowing quite why, Grimack found himself holding out his talon, to which Bear Trap held up his hoof and they briefly partook in a talon/hoofshake.
“Never seen a hippogriff with my own eyes before.”
Grimack flashed a smile, “you only just noticed?”
“Well no,” Trap shook his head as if it accentuated the fact, “I just didn’t see a reason to bring it up before.”
“And you found one now?” Grimack responded.
“Well, no, it’s just…” Trap stopped for a second, and seemed to be at a loss for words.
“It’s alright, I sounded a bit too defensive there, I didn’t mind at all, really,” Grimack reassured him.
“Oh, good, good,” The Everest-green pony chuckled lightly, “so, what’re you doin’ in a place for Bounty Hunters if you ain’t one yourself – You’re not looking to hire, are you? That’s not exactly welcome around here.”
Whether or not the last statement was advice or a warning, Grimack wasn’t entirely sure.
“Oh, I was just looking into the pay this sort of work brings.” Grimack decided that his background of actually being a Bounty Hunter for Hire was better left at the door for now.
“Well at my rank, granted, I’m closin’ in on the higher ranks, but not yet there, I get bounties rewarding at around 6000 bits for one sucker of a pony.”
Damn. Grimack thought. That was good.
“But from the first rank, 20-50 bits is all you’re really looking at.”
Hm. Maybe one day he’d take a further look into the job; his Board work paid significantly more than early Office bounty work, but nowhere as near as the middle ranks.
“I see, well, Traps, great talking to you, but I have to be off, places to go, ponies to see, y’know…” Grimack turned, heading for the exit as Trap bid him goodbye and waved cheerfully.
Celestia’s sun was out now, shining bright as if proudly showcasing all the ponies that trotted across the now busy and bustling streets, carts being pulled down the roads and the shuffling of hooves coming from every direction, different aromas fought for dominance in the light of day: the strong bitter smell of coffee, the mild sour stench of sweat from ponies dashing to and from their desired locations; there was a particularly lush and frosty breeze that morning, meaning the day was chilly despite its warm appearance.
Grim down the roads of Manehattan, making sure he didn’t get overtaken, and therefore swept away by, the occasional stampede of office and business ponies that ever seemed to be in a constant rush.
By the time he had finally made it to the Bounty Board, the morning rush seemed to have quelled significantly, much to his own thankfulness.
The Board itself was just that; a board; a large wooden board with multiple different ads and jobs on it, just waiting to be taken; there was one ad in particular that caught Grim’s eye, however, and such an ad was a piece of paper of a dark rich velvet red color, almost that of blood, the striking texture and appearance would have caught his attention alone, so it was even more impossible to ignore seeing as he’d spotted his name on it.
Dear Grimack,
We saw what you did back in that barroom.
You may have thought that nopony noticed, but we eternally grateful; the reason you are reading this message is because we have a proposition for you, because we know who you are, and that you what you are capable of and that you will go onto do grand things, so we’d like to offer you chance to see as such definitely happen.
After you’ve read this, we shall be in contact shortly,
Your Hopeful Employers.
“This is it hippogriff,” Deus’ gruff voice sounded in his head, “You’re going to do whatever they ask.”
“Deus, you can’t tell him what to do.” Embers’ voice interjected; it sounded further off, as if she was whispering.
Grim smirked slightly as the idea of the voices in his head trying to have a private conversation.
“It’s alright Ember,” Grim spoke out, to both reassure and acknowledge Ember’s concern, “It’s what has to be done, if we don’t want…” Grim paused for a second, clearly still affected by the images he’d seen, “...that future to be our own.”
“And speaking of the future, we know you’ll ensure a great one.” Spoke an unfamiliar voice.
Grim turned to see whom the speaker was and was surprised when he saw the elderly mare from the bar.
“It’s you.”
The nag looked perplexed for a second, “you know I who am?”
Now it was Grimack’s turn to play confused, “Well, I did save your life.”
It seemed to a take a second or so for this to register through the elderly mare until she jumped up in excitement with a speed one might not expect from such an age, “I still have the perception filter on!” she chuckled at this and suddenly steadied herself, straining slightly.
The old mare’s form started to distort, slowly at first, then it got progressively quicker until with a snap and Grim’s blink of the eyes, said old mare was gone and in her place stood a much younger and much more attractive mare.
“Better! Now, hello...” She greeted him, in a much more sultry and youthful tone.
“…Hi.” Grim wasn’t really sure as to what else he should say, so he decided to keep to what he knew.
“Always fun to see people’s reactions to the perception filter, normally it’s somewhere between angst and abstract horror,” the mare continued, “although, that may be because I normally have them bound up and gagged by that point.” She smirked at the last remark.
“What about you, handsome,” such words were said by the mare in a way that made Grimack think they had become stock sayings for the seductive Unicorn, “do you enjoy being bound up?” She was full on grinning now.
“Not particularly,” Grimack replied, trying to sound nonplussed, which, for the most part he was, but part of him was confused out of his mind at the same moment, “I have other preferences.”
“Ooh, mind if I hear some?” The lust in her voice; any stallion would think it was real affection, because it was what they would want to believe, but Grimack sensed something else.
“Who are you?” Grim never minded messing about if he thought it was for the greater good and/or he deserved a day off, but today he had things to focus on, so ‘distracted’ and ‘delayed’ were two terms he didn’t want to be able to use to describe his day by the end of it.
The mare seemed to pout for a second, before remembering why she’d actually been sent.
“My name is Siren, I’ll be your employer, so to speak.”
Grim took a second to match the name to the mare before him; she was a well-built, curvy unicorn with a charcoal coat and a burgundy red mane; her eyes were the same color as her mane and all in all she was very attractive and that was probably her ‘thing’ with a name like Siren; she could sway the majority of any stallions or fillyfoolers that passed by, unfortunately for her, he was neither part of said majority, or a lesbian mare.
“So are you the big bosspony or what?” Grimack wanted to know exactly what he was getting into.
Siren stifled back a laugh, albeit unsuccessfully, “NO, no, I’m just one of the Seers!” She then added as an afterthought, “But still as important all the same.”
“Uhhuh,” Grim responded, deciding to keep passive in that regard, “So what have you got for me?”
“Oh I have plenty of things for you,” That smirk was back.
“I meant in terms of jobs,” Grim responded irritably; Siren was actually somewhat taken aback at the lack of affect her flirting was having on the hippogriff, “If anything, it seems to turn him off.” She mused to herself.
She sighed, maybe he’d warm up as time went on, “Well, by asking about jobs, I assume you accept the proposition?”
“Now wait a minute,” Grimack didn’t want to be hasty, “I don’t remember anypony actually telling me what the said proposition is!”
“Join us.” Siren responded, even holding out her hoof to try and put across the idea of trust.
“Now why would I want to do that?” Grim replied, “I don’t even know what it is this cult of yours does!”
“You know of the future that is to come if we do not succeed, do you not?”
Pausing before he said it, “Yes, I do.”
“So that should be reason enough, should it not?”
Grimack shook his head, “No it’s not; I’ll work with you, from the sidelines, at most.”
It was then that Deus decided to speak, “Join them Grim, it’ll make things much easier in the long run.”
Grim replied mentally, “No; you’ve been in my head long enough to know I’m not a fan of that religious mumbo, never mind a cult.”
“Hippogryph-“But Deus was cut off by Ember: “No, Deus, he has the right to make his own decisions, we do not own him,” her voice was stern and commanding, yet with a hint of motherly concern, “It would do you well to remember that.” she added.
Grim turned his attention back to the charcoal mare in front of him, “Is that understood?”
There was a firm tone to his voice that told the young mare his mind was made up, so she opted to say nothing and just nod instead.
“Good; now, what would you like me to do first?”
“Oh nothing major…” Grimack then noticed the bagged item in Siren’s levitation spell, “Just a delivery.”