Act 3 Chapter 38 : Instructions Unclear, Detective Caught In Meatgrinder
"Treasure thee the moments. They art all thou may have in the dark. The people will pass, but moments hang in memory till the very end of you."
- From Princess Luna's Best Selling Book, 'How I Spent A Thousand Years With Nothing To Do But Play Tic-Tac-Toe And Think'
I woke from the first really comfortable sleep I’d had in years. My forelegs were wrapped tightly around Juniper’s middle, but he didn’t seem to mind. I let out a quiet yawn. Having somepony to hold while I slept after all that time was worth occasionally inhaling a bit of mane. Juniper was still asleep, but—
Juniper is dead.
My eyes snapped open, and the events of the previous evening came flooding back.
The shower. Scarlet taking me back to his room. Curling up under the blankets together. I wrestled with myself for a long few seconds before realizing it was sort of a moot point; he was still hugging one of my front legs.
I looked up at the digital alarm clock sitting beside his bed. A little after noon, or possibly midnight. Hard to say these days. I’d long ago lost track of the passing of days into nights. I’m sure somepony was keeping track, somewhere, in the hopes that things would return to normal one day and they could present the proper, unvarnished, correct time of day to the Princesses. They’re probably a boring prick, too.
All these thoughts were mostly an attempt to ignore the growing pressure in my bladder. Scarlet was breathing slowly, his cheek mashed firmly into the pillow as he dreamed about something pleasant. He had a big smile plastered across his sleeping face. I really hated to wake him, but it was that or an embarrassing mess at some point.
Leaning forward, I nosed his cheek and murmured, “Scarlet, wake up.” When he didn’t move, I added, “Come on, I gotta piss.”
An ear twitched, and Scarlet groaned, “Merfle...shift isn’t for three hours…”
“Your shift is right now,” I chuckled. “Now shift.”
At the sound of my voice, he jerked his head around to look at me. “Hardy?! Oh...am I still dreaming?”
I gave my foreleg a light tug, and he jumped, quickly letting go.
“No, you’re not dreaming. Get up. It’s time to go be heroes.”
Scarlet bit his lip, then rolled over and slid his legs behind my neck. “Look, I...I know last night didn’t mean anything serious and we didn’t have sex, but I wanted to say...say thank you. Just thank you. I’m know I’m just some stallion-crazy colt who likes his job a little too much, but—”
I sighed inwardly as he started to babble before leaning forward, pulling him against me, and kissing him so hard he squeaked. I’m sure I had horrible morning breath, but he didn’t seem to mind one bit. After a good five seconds, I leaned back and slipped out of the bed, leaving him with an expression somewhere between confusion, shock, and ecstasy.
“Mmm, breakfast. No...bathroom first, then breakfast.” A soft tingle from my chest reminded me of one other commitment. “Bathroom, breakfast, and wall socket.”
“Abah...daba?” Scarlet stuttered.
“Right. Good. Maybe give that about ten minutes to go down before you wander around outside?”
Scarlet looked down at himself and went pink right to his eartips, snatching a blanket over himself in a rare display of modesty. “S-sorry!”
Chuckling to myself, I opened the door and stepped out into the hall. I paused, coming muzzle to muzzle with four sets of eyes.
Taxi, Limerence, Swift, and Mags were sitting opposite me, leaning against the wall.
Swift’s eyes were shut, her body armor unzipped down her front and the tattoo on her chest glowing slightly, and Mags was drawing a surprisingly artful picture of her with crayons. Limerence was nose-deep in an ancient, dusty book with a clipboard beside it, and Taxi had what appeared to be a half-disassembled P.E.A.C.E. cannon spread out on the carpet in front of her. They all looked up as I carefully shut Scarlet’s door behind me and cleared my throat.
“Ahem. Waiting long?” I asked.
Taxi got to her hooves and stepped over the gun, putting her forelegs around my neck. I returned the hug, resting my cheek against hers for a second. “Swift...Swift told us what happened out there.”
“Is that why we’re not doing the customary greeting where I bleed everywhere? Also, I take it Fluff'N'Stuff made it out of the Castle?”
"He did. Almost all of Requisitions made it out, and they carried half the armory with them. We've been distributing it. I’m just really glad you’re back,” she murmured, then swung a small camera on a strap around, holding it up on one hoof. “Besides, I got pictures of you and Scarlet together that’re going in my personal scrapbook. You two are adorable, you know.”
“Because of course you did. Thank you for not waking us.”
“A-are you alright, Sir?” Swift asked, her eyes still closed, though her head was turned in my direction.
“Kid, are we going to have to talk about you doing creepy things with Tourniquet again?”
She blinked her eyes open, then lowered her ears. “Sorry. That’s been happening more and more often lately, but I’ll ask her to remind me to actually look at the people I’m talking to. I was trying to get some intel on the movements of the Black Coats...err...the P.A.C.T. Tourniquet gets flashes sometimes when they pass parts of the electrical grid she’s focusing on, but our focus is limited—”
“Save it for a briefing, kid.” I turned to Limerence and offered him a hoof. “Lim...I’m glad you’re back on your hooves.”
Limerence straightened his coat, flattened his lapels, and stood, taking a step forward. His hug was stiff and a little unpracticed, but genuine. “I am more pleased to see you than I thought possible, Detective.”
“You too. How is your horn?”
Reaching up, he tapped the aforementioned appendage, which let off a soft ‘clink’. “Back to working order, more or less. Slip Stitch is a capable doctor, despite his eccentricities.”
“Did I hear After Glow say something about a ‘portable’ version of his machine?” I asked.
“Yes! Quite the invention. It forcibly aligns every leyline in a unicorn’s body simultaneously. A perfect cure for a list of magical maladies. There’s only the single prototype right now, but he’s been using it round the clock to awaken as many unicorns as possible.”
“That’ll be good for our resources, at least,” Taxi added, softly.
A warm weight landed on my back, wrapping tiny claws in my mane. “Egg pony! You not crazy anymore? Cuddling that girly colt help?”
“It helped. It helped an awful lot.” I exhaled, looking up at the ceiling for a moment, before refocusing on my driver. “Taxi, what’s been happening, here? Keep it to the highlights until I’ve had something to eat and a trip to the bathroom, okay?”
“Highlights, huh? Well, insofar as I’ve had time to get my hooves back in the game, it’s been a busy couple of days. We recovered the Night Trotter, and the modifications and repairs are almost complete. That took two teams of mechanics on three shifts. Our communications systems are running. The Police Department is settling in with the Underdogs, and the Aroyos and Stilettos are coordinating with one another.”
“What about Slip Stitch?” I asked.
Limerence added his voice to the conversation. “The diamond dogs dug to the Morgue, so we have what amounts to four heavily fortified bases of operation, now, and three points of retreat from any given location. I wouldn’t have believed so much was possible in such a short period of time, but—” Lifting his hoof, he gave it a wiggle, and a brightly colored ladybug crawled out of the fur on his fetlock. “—Miss Tourniquet and the Ladybug Collective are running logistics, and the creature known as the ‘File Cloud’ is currently hovering above Supermax, providing access to the entire city government information system. The three of them are efficient on a level that would unsettle me if circumstances weren’t so dire.”
“I’m glad Gypsy made it. Part of me was afraid that was going to be the last we saw of her. Well, in that case, I need food, a wall socket, and then we need to have ourselves a council of war.”
“War, sir?” Swift asked, nervously.
“War, kid. Things are about to get bad, and I want everypony on the same page before we spend any more lives playing defense.”
----
“Wait, wait, wait... You’re saying these ponies gave control of their entire logistical operations to the Supermax Construct and the Ladybugs?! The same Essys that took over the power and water systems? Are they bonkers?!”
“I think that’s what I said, yeah. A bunch of the Aroyos even got a mark from Tourniquet. It’s different from the one on Swift, somehow, but they get a few little perks. When they’re doing that ‘hive brain’ thing, they act a bit like ants. Really smart, really fast ants.”
“They...they took prisoner marks?”
“Yep! If you want to wait for Swift to get back, she can explain it to you. I’m pretty sure she’s in the bathroom. Might be a while, though. Omnivore diet makes for some pretty righteous—”
“Oh please stop right there and get back on topic! You were telling me how this all somehow led up to you losing the Helm of the Nightmare!”
“Right. Sorry, it’s been a busy day, and we’ve got a lot to do before we head to the Office.”
“This safehouse your grandfather mentioned?”
“That’s right.”
“You’re still going, even knowing what they could do?”
“We’re still fortifying, but at this point, I don’t think we have a choice. If they hit us before we’re ready, it’ll be over pretty damn quick. Look, that’s all part of the plan. Can I just get to that?”
“Ugh! Fine! Talk quicker!”
----
It felt good to have my friends at my back again.
The four of them, walking along on either side of me—or riding in Mags’ case—felt like a force to be reckoned with. I’d watched Limerence reduce a hardened criminal to tears with a knife and a dictionary, sneak us through a deadly sewer full of lethal traps and monsters, and single handedly power a spell-core using only his horn. Swift had fought griffins, dragons, demons, and her own fear of blood to become one of the most capable warrior I’d ever met. Taxi was a monster in the body of a friend. Then there was Mags; she was my reason to keep going.
We’d worked together, struggled together, bled together, cried together, and in some small way it felt like having a family; a crazy, dysfunctional family, but one that would always be there until the very end. That the end was probably pretty close was entirely irrelevant.
Swift led the way through the labyrinth of new and old construction. There were sleeping rooms designed after military barracks with sets of crudely assembled bunk beds in long rows, and common areas with simply built barstools made of scrap intermixed with expensive furniture that wouldn’t have looked out of place in a royal’s house. Anything and everything a person could rest their backside on was in use, and everywhere we went, there were people. Ponies, griffins, zebras, yaks, goats, donkeys, and buffalo worked, played, lazed, and talked to each other in the hallways. The place was almost as packed as Supermax had been, though it seemed new construction was taking place in large sections of the underground.
At one point, we passed a group of diamond dogs in high visibility vests and hats who seemed to be headed deeper into the complex.
“Kid, was this place this big when we were here last?” I asked.
“Yes and no, Sir. Miss Stella has been expanding for a long time,” she answered.
“Yeah, I noticed, but why?”
“Um...It’s complicated, but he told me once when I snuck into one of the empty areas and got lost for almost a whole day. The Vivarium was a safe place from dragon attack during the Crusades. Miss Stella thought that if there was one dragon who ponies weren’t scared of, they’d be more willing to accept dragons back in Equestria when we finally made peace.”
“You would not believe how much of this complex was going unused,” Taxi murmured, swinging her brand new, reassembled P.E.A.C.E. cannon over her shoulder. “There are old crystal mines down here that run for miles. The Darkening was a good excuse to open everything up again. There were entire sections you could hide a whole town’s worth of ponies in, if nopony minded a futon on the floor. I’m pretty sure Stella expected something similar to the Crusades to happen again at some point in the future. Equestria has certainly seen its fair share of catastrophe in the last century.”
Limerence levitated his clipboard off of his back and folded a page back. “Unfortunately, right now, our biggest problem isn’t space, but food. I estimate we have perhaps a month before mass starvation, even with rationing.”
“Fine by me,” I grunted, tipping my hat to a passing mare who’d given me a bright-eyed smile of recognition. “The planet is going to be freezing by then. It’s already a bit nippy on the surface. If we fail, we’re dead anyway, so I’m going to have a full belly before we go anywhere.”
“Egg pony, won’t the other side be really, really cold already?” Mags asked.
“Other side of what?”
“The world! We gots the big black hole with the light behind keeping us warm, the e-c-lipsy-thing...but they got nothin’ over there! Won’t they be getting cold quicker?”
“The ecological damage will be severe, yes,” Limerence said quietly.
“Those are thoughts for another day,” I interjected, turning to my partner. “Swift, you called ahead? We’re going to Stella’s lair. Who all is going to be there?”
Swift zoned out for a second, her hooves still moving, but her eyes blankly staring at the path ahead. “Uh...Sir, it’s...it’s everyone.”
“What do you mean ‘everyone’?”
“I mean everyone, Sir. You’ll see!”
----
“I’m going to admit, it never really occurred to me how many allies we’d managed to gather over the last couple of months. By weight of numbers, it was a veritable army.”
“Those doing the work of Harmony frequently end up making friends.”
“Huh...that sounded a bit religious.”
“When you’ve lived through some of the things I have, a pony can become a little religious.”
“I know what you mean. That said, I was still surprised at how many people were in attendance when we reached Stella’s chamber.”
----
While we’d been drawing plenty of eyes, there was no crowd of rubbernecking onlookers trotting along behind us. Waved greetings, a few carefully ignored questions shouted in our direction, and once or twice some foals chasing after who were stopped as we moved deeper, but no crowd. Most of the doorways to the larger rooms were guarded by ponies wearing white sashes, though after a bit I started recognizing some familiar faces amongst their number: members of the Detrot Police Department. They’d given up their uniforms, but most still wore their guns, bulletproof vests, and a badge tucked into the front of their sashes.
As we passed one particular door with a former officer standing beside it, the young mare drew into a sharp salute. She was a blue the color of a clear morning sky and had a shotgun slung across her stomach. A nasty scar ran from her chin right up through one of her ears. It looked barely healed, and a few stitches were still holding the ear together.
“Chief. Good to see you back,” she murmured.
I paused, one leg in the air, then slowly set it down.
“You get that cut at the Castle?” I asked, studying the wound.
“Yes, Sir!” she chirped, standing a bit straighter with a proud look as she stared straight ahead. “One of the ‘zerkers got me. I thought I was going to die, but you shot it in the eye and it backed off. Then a sergeant pulled me to safety and helped me get away.”
I clapped her on the shoulder. “I’m glad you made it out. There are a few decent medical unicorns in the Vivarium who can magic that scar off you.”
“Actually, I was thinking of keeping it,” she replied, with a proud grin. “Stallions like a mare with some character, and nothing says character like a groovy scar.”
“We’ve all got a few scars,” I said, momentarily feeling my age. “One day, soon, we’ll hold funerals. Once this is all over, I’ve got a few names I intend to cut into the Castle’s walls.”
A tear snuck into the corner of her eye, and she quickly swept it away. “Me, too, Sir. Go on below. We got notice to make sure your path stays clear and that nopony bothers you.”
“Thank you, officer.”
----
Ten minutes with the toilet, scarfing down three pieces of toast, and plugging myself in for another ten hadn’t given me much of a boost, but it was enough that I was no longer at risk of dying on the carpet somewhere. Unfortunately, the elevator ride down to Stella’s lair made my belly do a quick jig as we descended over the ancient cavern. Despite setting down in exactly the same place we had last time, it was hard to tell we were in the same room; the cave had been transformed, with huge work lights projecting powerful luminance over every inch of the space. Odd as it might sound, I found the brilliance comforting; it’d been a very long time since I’d seen full daylight, even if it came from an artificial source.
The catwalks over the lake had been replaced by a more permanent structure that resembled the Underdogs’ shanty-town if it’d been made of clear plastic tarpaulin. It was huge, at least three stories tall, and the interior looked to be full of plants. A sweaty heat radiated throughout the cave, leaving my mane slick.
“Now, what is that?” I asked nopony in particular.
“Greenhouse,” Taxi mused, tapping her cannon with her toe as she watched a group of three ponies coming out of the building with a load of vegetables in a huge crate slung between them. “Hydroponic greenhouse.”
Stepping off the elevator, I studied the building for a moment. “I thought you said we were having food problems, Lim.”
“That’s a stop-gap measure,” he said, his horn lighting as he pushed his glasses up his muzzle. “We’re using an absurd quantity of earth pony magic to force growth, but each generation of seeds becomes more enchanted and less edible. We had to abandon the tomatoes entirely after the most recent generation made a bid for independence.”
“Damn. That means we need seed warehouses,” I muttered. “There have to be a few of them near the outskirts—”
“We explored that option,” Lim murmured, lowering his ears. “The rogue dragons destroyed them very systematically after we managed to get one or two. Right now, we’re keeping the populace fed, but at a terrible cost to the genetic wellbeing of our long-term food supply. Unless we can get access to our farmlands and there’s sun to grow with, recovery will be difficult. We’ve got a few underground areas where we’re growing mushrooms and other long term re-newables, but cities are expensive to feed.”
“Well, shit. Alright, nothing we can do. Those are going to be thoughts—”
“—for another day, Sir?” Swift finished, giving me a nudge with her wing. “Are we even going to be the ponies to deal with this once it’s over?”
“I know the square root of jack about farming, kid, but if Princess Celestia is around to give directions and I can work under the nice, hot sun, then I’ll strap on a plow in five seconds flat.”
“I misses the sun…” Mags muttered, wrapping her paws around my neck.
“Me too, honey.”
Swift lead us around the edge of the cave and toward the tunnel into Stella’s private hoard. Ponies passed us, offering nods and smiles with sometimes a few lingering looks before being hurried off by one of their companions. The sounds of construction reverberated through the halls. Jackhammers rattled, dust filled the air, and worklights peered around corners as it seemed ponies were hollowing out the substrate under the city to make more room.
At the end of the corridor, the normally hidden door to Stella’s hoard stood open, and a crowd of shifting bodies occupied the catwalk, some standing, others sitting on short benches. I could hear many different voices discussing something. As we trotted through, rushing hoofsteps galloped up behind us, and a breathless, red-faced Scarlet rounded the corner.
“Sorry! I’m here!” he gasped, trotting around in front. Stopping at the open stone door, he leaned in and shouted, “Announcing...Chief of Police, Hard Boiled!”
The room fell silent, but I could almost hear the anticipation.
“Scarlet, I swear…” I muttered under my breath.
Cantering behind me, he shoved his forehead against my flank and gave me a firm shove toward the door. “Hardy, we’re trying to keep some semblance of order, and you’re the Chief of Police! Go be police-y!”
‘Right,’ I thought. ‘Police-y. Breathe, don’t cry, don’t scream, and don’t roll around on the ground like you’re five. Can do.’
Inhaling, I pulled Mags off my shoulders and set her down on the cavern floor. “You’re walking, kiddo. Try not to shoot anyone in here. These are friends, whatever they might look or act like.”
Mags patted her tiny pistol and fluffed her neck feathers indignantly. “I never be shooting anyone who don’t deserves it!”
“Good girl.”
Adopting as much poise as I had in my personal reserve of grace, I strutted into Stella’s hoard and up the catwalk onto the audience platform. Much of the hoard itself was gone, the displays and curios replaced by a myriad of benches and chairs fit for all manner of different species. Every seat was full, and above it all, Stella himself was draped across his throne, his tail dangling lazily in the water and a ridiculous plastic crown the size of a foal’s wading pool perched on his brow.
A pony-sized podium was set up in front of the throne, complete with a microphone and a glass of water. Dozens of creatures were in attendance. It reminded me vaguely of some kind of parliamentary meeting, and my heart started to beat a little faster as the eyes of all those different persons started boring into me. Soft whispers ran up and down the gallery as I passed them by.
The great purple lizard regarded me coolly, his golden eyes following along as I trotted between the rows of seats, glancing at faces both familiar and foreign. I stopped at the foot of his throne, returning his inscrutable gaze. He allowed a tiny smile to quirk one side of his muzzle, then flicked his eyes at my friends and fluttered his fingers toward three metal folding chairs off to his right with tiny cards sitting on them that said ‘reserved’ along with Taxi, Limerence, and Swift’s names in hastily scribbled hoofwriting.
I waited until they were seated to speak.
“So...Stella. You want to tell me what all this is?” I asked, waving a leg toward the audience.
“Be patient, darling. Come wait here,” Stella purred, fluttering his fingers at a seat at the base of his throne. He then nodded at something over my shoulder. “All will be revealed in a moment.”
Scarlet moved around my side and stepped up to the podium, tapping the microphone lightly, which let off an amplified thumping sound. Picking up a prepared clipboard that’d been sitting there, he quickly checked it, then turned to face the gathering. I took my seat, tugging off my hat as my eyes roved over the gathering. I caught sight of Iris Jade sitting a ways down, lazing in her seat with her back legs propped on a glowing magical construct. Beside her, a group of griffins were noisily chatting to each other. I thought there might have been a familiar shade of brown in among them, but couldn’t really see from where I was seated.
“Ahem! Ladies and gentlebeings!” Scarlet began, and silence gradually fell over the room. “Welcome to the first ever meeting of the New Detrot City Council!”
The reactions from the crowd were mixed: a few cracked smiles, some cautious chuckles, and more than a couple bemused expressions.
“Now, many of you have only arrived today,” he continued. “Some have only been here for a few hours. We’re going to do some quick introductions so everyone knows everyone else, then get down to brass tacks! Please, starting to my left, I’d like whoever the representatives or decision makers are to please say your names and which group within the city you represent?”
There was a momentary quiet, and then an aged unicorn, his eyes sparkling with life and his grey pelt wrinkled such that it looked like a sack hanging on a coat-rack, got to his hooves. He was wearing the shredded remains of a garment that I felt like I should know from somewhere, as were the three ponies with him.
“My name is Venture Capital. I speak for the prisoners of Supermax, now known as the Ever Free Fortress.”
I finally placed the garment. It was a torn, blue robe that’d once been covered in glittering sequins. A few fragmented bits still clung to it.
“You let the Lunar Passage in here?!” I scoffed, peering up at Stella. The sentiment was echoed around the room by a few raised voices.
“Let him say his piece, Hardy. He wasn’t a member of the cult of Nightmare Moon,” Stella murmured.
Venture Capital gave me an appraising look, then trotted over in front of me. “Chief Hard Boiled,” he said, softly. Slowly, he slid into a low bow, placing his chin on the metal catwalk. “We have seen the folly of our faith and the scales have fallen from our eyes. You defeated the Nightmare. I saw the abomination that Skylark made of herself. I personally disposed of her body with spellfire.”
The other three members of the Lunar Passage, a young mare and two middle-aged stallions, got to their hooves. They moved up beside Capital, sliding into similarly submissive positions. I noticed all three of them had bright red, crescent-shaped tattoos around their cutie-marks: Tourniquet’s enchanted prisoner marks.
“We of the Lunar Passage swear ourselves to your cause,” they said, in desperately creepy unison. “We will follow you until the end of this world, into death, and beyond.”
My heart did a quick dance on my stomach as I looked down at the heads of the four ponies. Reaching down, I put my forelegs under Venture Capital, quickly trying to pull him upright. He resisted only a moment before righting himself on creaky joints.
“Mercy, would you stop that?” I grumbled in his ear. “I’m a boozy cop who’s a little too lucky for his own good. I am not becoming a religious figure.”
“Believe me, Crusader, that cannot possibly be any worse than our previous leadership,” Venture replied, with a thin smile. “We will serve you, and maybe one day, the Holy Construct will see fit to free us.”
“Holy Construct? Arrrg! You mean Tourniquet, don’t you?!” I groaned, pointing a toe toward their seats. “Sweet Celestia, let’s finish these introductions before I have a heart attack. I’ll accept your vow or oath or whatever that was after you know what we’re up against.”
Venture smoothed the wrinkles around his mouth with a little trickle of magic from his horn, then nodded to my new followers who returned to their seats, seemingly oblivious to just how awkward that display had been. “If that is your will...”
I put a hoof on my forehead and rubbed it in a circle. “Yes, it’s my will. Please go sit down...”
When they were settled again, the next pony in line got up. Sang Froid, from the siege of the department. He still wore his uniform, and his mane was still as immaculate as ever, but he’d included a white sash across his chest. I was going to have to ask them about that, at some point.
“Sang Froid, Detrot Police Department, representing the officers of the city. Chief Hard Boiled, we are at your command.”
I nodded, forcing as neutral an expression as I could. “Good to see you got out of the department, Sang.”
“You, too, Sir.”
He sat, and an elderly diamond dog muscled between two larger dogs, his cane clacking against the catwalk as he threw his shoulders back and thrust his chest out to address the room.
“Dogenes. Philosopher, writer, mortician, and—since I haven’t been able convince them otherwise—de facto leader of the Underdogs!” he growled, smoothing down his toga. “Can’t say as I’m pleased to be dragged out of my bed before noon!”
“Your presence is a joy to us all, Dogenes,” Stella said, with an amused smirk.
“Not like I had much choice, you old snake,” Dogenes replied, though there wasn’t any particular malice behind it. “We’re here for the fool in the trenchcoat, to see justice done in the city, and to protect the population. Piss on the rest of it, far as I’m concerned.”
With that, he sank into his seat, scratched himself, and leaned his cane against the railing. One of his bodyguards caught it before it could fall over the side into the water, carefully propping it up against the old dog’s leg.
Iris Jade was next in line. She didn’t bother getting out of her seat.
“I’m the former Chief of Police. I could kill most of you without breaking a sweat,” she said, with a chilly smile. “I’m here to keep the current Chief of Police alive until I’ve humiliated him and he kneels at my hooves, begging for mercy. If we save the world in the meantime, so be it. If he dies, I am claiming his corpse. I want to make a hoofbag out of him. That is all.”
There was silence for a good twenty seconds, before the next individual took a step forward. It was Slip Stitch, his eyes bright, coat freshly cleaned, and wild mane sticking up from his head like he’d recently touched a live wire.
“I represent the Detrot Morgue and its population. I also want to make a hoofbag out of Hard Boiled, should he expire during this endeavor, and after extensive study. Miss Jade, when you’re done with him, could we perchance negotiate—”
Jade’s horn glowed, and Stitch flew back into his seat, his muzzle clamped shut with a bright green band of magic.
In the ensuing quiet, there was a guffaw, followed by great belly laugh. A powerfully built griffin shoved himself to his paws, tossing off a salute in my direction. My eyes lit up, and I threw myself to my hooves.
“Sykes! You ol’ feathered prick, where’ve you been?”
“Aye, me boyo! Knew ye’d live! Too damned stubborn to die!”
Sykes looked good; a few pounds heavier, even. His brown feathers were glossy, and he’d sharpened his beak at some point recently. He wore his tartan and kilt, along with a brand new shotgun with a freshly oiled stock across his shoulder.
Adopting a slightly more formal pose, he threw his shoulders back. “Oi be standing for the Hitlan and Tokan griffs! Bunch o’ other little clans in t’ city, too, all in Skytown. We ready to kill for t’ peoples of Detrot!”
“Isn’t the vow more typically ‘to die’ for the peoples of Detrot?” one of the Lunar Passage ponies commented dryly.
“And where be fun in that, eh?” Sykes cackled, propping himself against the railing. “If de ot’er prick dies for what ‘e believes, Oi’m around to drink to his convictions!”
After Glow stepped out of a row of clustered white-sashed ponies and raised her rasping voice. “Glad to have griffs with us. Ah’m Glow. Ye call me Granny, ye better be mah granddaughter or a Stiletto, cuz otherwise Ah’ll wup yer teeth in. We been keepin’ this city safe fer o’er a hunnered years. Ain’t about ta change today.”
The soft cry of a young child rattled my ears, followed by a gentle hush from her mother, and then Wisteria trotted out of a small group of tattooed and pierced Aroyos, all sporting bright red crescents around their cutie-marks. Even Wisteria had one, though hers was right there on her chest.
“I be head of de Aroyos. We be de Chosen of de Ancestors.” Reaching into the saddlebag opposite her foal, she produced a shiny glass orb about the size of a softball and set it on the catwalk, then backed up a few steps. “Dey speak for us!”
The orb sparked internally, then a brilliant light shone from somewhere inside, tracing out a shape in the air with tiny lines of brilliant illumination. The shape took on depth, then form, until with a final pass three aged ponies sat in their rocking chairs, surrounded by piles of yarn. Apple Bloom was wearing a set of metal goggles on her forehead, along with some type of mechanized harness attached to her shoulders which had several jointed ‘arms’ above it that twitched seemingly of their own volition, while Scootaloo’s prosthetic legs had been replaced with a much heavier duty model that whirred and clanked when she moved. Sweetie Belle didn’t look to have changed much from the last time I’d seen her, save a long-barrelled rifle leaning against her chair where it would be close at hoof.
“Now, why am I surprised the three of you are still alive?” Stella murmured, sucking his painted lip between two fangs.
“Death does not become us,” Sweetie replied, taking a quick sip from her wineglass. “That said, it is lovely to see you, Miss Stella. The years have been kind. Now that we are no longer constrained by our oaths of self-restraint, nor the aggressive suppression of our expansion, we would offer our services—”
“Oh hush, Sweetie! Yer bein’ all fancy!” Bloom interrupted, hauling herself out of her rocking chair to address the crowd. Her friend gave her a sharp glare, but she ignored it. “We’re here ta help! We’ve got guns an’ we’ve got ponies. Not so many as ya’ll, but ours come right outta the war. Plus, we think we figgured out how they’re trackin’ us! Or, at least, where it’s comin’ from.”
Sykes jerked his head up. “Oi!” he snarled. “Those shite monsters caught o’er a dozen good griffs out of guarded places this week! What’re we blowin’ up?”
“Well, I’d be right there beside you holding a stick of dynamite, if we could do that,” Scootaloo sighed, tucking her wings against her sides. “Unfortunately, it’s one of our old weapons testing sites. It’s in a place that’s hard to get to and defensible to a fault. The only way in is sneaking.”
“Wouldn’t happen to be a place called ‘The Office’, would it?” I asked.
Scootaloo’s eyes almost bugged out of her head, and Sweetie’s wineglass dropped right out of her telekinesis, shattering on the floor before vanishing as whatever magic the orb ran on lost track of the pieces.
“How come ya always know more’n all the smart ponies?!” Apple Bloom huffed, rocking back in her seat. “Yer makin’ us look bad!”
----
“She’s right, you know. The fact that you have managed, by coincidence or design, to accumulate so much information that should be hidden from even the most aggressive investigations is nothing short of bizarre. In fact, it is beyond that! It’s impossible!”
“Funnily enough, I thought so too? I might have bled for some of this knowledge, but leads kept popping up where ponies had found only dead ends for decades. I can’t have been the only one to notice something had gone off the rails in Detrot, and I don’t entirely buy the ‘it’s a long way from Canterlot’ explanation. Manehattan and Cloudsdale got hit harder than Detrot, and they didn’t turn into dens of criminality with no response from the Princesses.”
“Hmmm...I mean, the rest of Equestria certainly has problems, but not on the same scale. Certainly not such that someone could hide all of those disappearances and murders.”
“It’s almost as though some higher power was keeping everyone else distracted, huh?”
“But not you.”
“Maybe, maybe not. I wonder at that sometimes. A dedicated cop develops alcoholism and somehow manages to continue working for years beyond the point it should have disabled him. I’ve always had the strangest sensation of being pulled in two directions at once, for years now.”
“Hardy, you’re making me a little paranoid, here. Magical influences guiding ponies’ lives is not unheard of, but it’s usually not that subtle...”
“If you weren’t paranoid already by this point, then you’ve had your head under a rock. And I don’t think either of us can claim what’s going on is subtle.”
----
With assurances I’d tell them what was going on and after Apple Bloom and her friends were back in their seats, Scarlet stepped to the podium.
“There’s one final name on my list,” he said. “Princess ‘Firebrand’ of the Farthest Land, Heir of Ember, rightful Queen of the Dragons.”
Stella straightened on his throne, tossing one side of his boa back over his shoulder intently. “Ah! Yes, our latest guests! Do come in, please!”
I turned toward the other end of the room as Firebrand’s troop marched up the stairs onto the catwalk, which shook under their combined weight. Firebrand looked freshly washed, her head-flukes and scales polished and her claws sharp as she came in. The rest of them were clean, with Tonic in particular seeming more cheerful than she had when I’d seen her last.
The confidence in Firebrand’s eyes lasted all of ten seconds, right up to the moment she laid eyes on Stella. If you’ve ever heard a dragon squeak, it’s a sound you should get on record, because I would bet it’s worth a pretty penny to collectors of staggeringly rare audio; getting draconic royalty’s terrified whimper on tape would probably buy you a decent-sized house.
“Now then, my sweets!” Stella began, “It’s rare I get draconic guests from the homeland, but I am most pleased to make your acquaintances—”
Firebrand threw herself face down on the catwalk, spreading her wings out to either side in what I took to be a gesture of total submission. A second later, Tonic, Altair, Scorch, and Crask mirrored the action.
“I beg abeyance of your wrath, Lord Stellatrix!” Firebrand yelped, smoke pouring from the edges of her muzzle with every word. “We did not know you controlled this land! We thought these ponies were speaking of a female dragon! You have been gone from our rivers for many decades, and my mother told me of your exploits, but we had no idea you’d taken the pony-lands and if we had, we’d have called on your leadership when my mother went into her long sleep—”
Stella shrugged his feathered boa off and slid down from his throne, snaking through the water. Ponies quickly cleared the railing on that side of the platform so the sea-serpent could rest his forelegs there. Firebrand was still babbling apologies and explanations, right up to the moment the sea-serpent reached down and gently chucked her under the chin with one of his talons.
“There now,” Stella said softly. “Hush, darling. I gave up my claim to the throne before your mother was crowned. I am not Stellatrix or ‘Ocean Burner’ or ‘Bloody River’ or any of the other silly names they used to call me anymore. Just ‘Stella’ or ‘Miss Stella’ suit me fine.”
“B-but...you were in line to be king…” Firebrand gasped.
“I am still a queen, no?” he giggled, and she gave him a confused, slightly frightened look. “Oh do relax, darling! I’m not going to kill you! I have no interest in the homeland, and I didn’t respond when old Torch decided to have his little contest for the throne. I’m sure he was hoping I’d save Ember from all the politics and misery. Much good it did him. She was always a stubborn little thing. I was sad to hear what happened to her. Still, it is pleasant to see some young dragons who know how to show respect to their elders.”
Firebrand’s right eye twitched, and then she carefully pushed herself up and folded her wings in tight against herself. “I...I had prepared a very dramatic expression of loyalty to the cause of the Crusader, but I feel I have been beaten to it, and considering some of the persons who are now enmeshed with him, would be somewhat overshadowed. We are here to be briefed on what is actually going on in this city.”
“Well, if you still want to do something dramatic when we’re done, feel free,” Stella said, gesturing at me to get up. “For now, I’m about to call this little session of ours to order. Hard Boiled, I do believe it is time that you told us all what has really happened in Detrot, since you seem to be the only pony who knows the entirety of it.”
I coughed into my hoof, mostly to cover my own mental organization process. Scarlet stepped aside to offer me the podium.
‘Chief of Police. Sound police-y. Don’t sound like a frightened colt who just wishes he was back in bed with his leg half asleep and a friend holding him.’
“I wish I could say I know everything, but there are still a few gaps,” I started, then paused for a moment. “This all began with a brave girl who died trying to save us from ourselves. What it will all come down to is...wishes.”
----
“You...you told them everything?”
“If only I’d had the chance…”
----
“I want you to keep in mind that most of this is assembled from the last few months worth of inquiry, so we’re going to be speculating here, but most of it is supported or confirmable,” I said, watching the sea of eyes. It wasn’t much worse than briefing all those cops at the Castle before the siege, and at least the eyes were friendly, if much more numerous.
“Many, many centuries ago, Princess Luna went insane. In the guise of Nightmare Moon, she attempted to re-order the sky into a particular magical configuration called ‘The Web of Dark Wishes’. This would have allowed her to absorb and channel vast amounts of magic into a sort of ‘universal spell’, the direct translation of her will into reality. Nopony knows exactly what she would have wished for, but we can probably say with confidence, ‘nothing good’.
Once she was defeated and banished by Princess Celesta, a hidden hoof took over her work. At some point in the last thousand years, presumably many centuries ago, a family of ponies began planning to reconstruct the Web of Dark Wishes. They struck a deal with...something...to feed the souls and lives of their weak to it in exchange for power and knowledge.”
A few grumbles and whispers were going back and forth, but most of the room was listening closely. Iris Jade was feigning sleep, though one of her ears twitched from time to time.
“Stella, do we have a slide projector, or something? I need a big map of Detrot. I’m going to feel stupid saying this out loud without anything to point at.”
“Ah’ve got it! One second!” Apple Bloom’s image called out, and then she walked out of the range of whatever magic was keeping her visible, only to return a second or two later with a rolled up map the size of a rug slung over one shoulder. Sweetie Belle unfurled the map, and it levitated into the air, held at a height everypony could see.
“Alright, could you mark the Shield pylons and draw me some lines connecting them to a few of their nearest neighbors?” I asked. “It doesn’t have to be exact.”
“Yup! Sweetie, yah got that?”
“Bloom, dear, I can hear just fine. I didn’t require new eardrums after the war, unlike some I could name,” Sweetie admonished. Bright, glowing lines appeared on the map, stringing the different points into an intricate pattern that vaguely resembled an eye. “There you are, Detective.”
“Thanks, ladies.” I trotted around the podium and pointed up at the floating map. “Gentlebeings…I give you—” Pause for effect. “—the Web of Dark Wishes!”
The room went silent for about five seconds before erupting into shouted questions from all directions.
“—can’t be serious!”
“Impossible! How could they hide—”
“Ah don’t believe—”
I let it go on for a moment, then held up my leg and lowered my head until the hint was taken and everypony had returned to their seats. There was still some grumbling, but no one had pulled a gun and tried to shoot me, so it was a marked improvement on some after dinner speeches I’d given at the department over the years.
“Things are only going downhill from here, so buckle up buckaroos,” I warned, heading back to the podium. “Now, this ‘universal spell’ is powered by chaos and suffering, much like the sort that would be caused by say...freezing the sun and moon in a state of permanent eclipse and destroying the central government of a country. Worse, these characters we’re talking about have been harvesting ponies for an unknown period of time using magic that seals parts of their souls inside some body part. They built this city as their own private wish-factory.”
“What evidence do you have for all of this?” Sang Froid asked, sweeping his perfect mane back over his shoulder.
I waved a hoof at the ceiling. “Aside from the current condition of the world? Mostly just a long, long list of things I’ve been investigating since this began. I can’t lay it all out for you here, but if we’re alive in a year, I’ll write you a book. These people plan long term. I wouldn’t be surprised if they’d factored things like the return of Nightmare Moon and the Crusades into their plans. They controlled the city government for decades from behind the scenes under the guise of a law firm known as ‘Umbra, Animus, and Armature’. Probably had some other name before that, too.”
“You’re...kidding me. My uncle’s firm was bought out by them!” a young mare groaned from about halfway down the gallery.
“Not kidding, not joking, and not exaggerating,” I assured them. “What I know right now from my investigations is that these people are desperately hunting for something.”
“Oi, boyo...ye means the Armor of the Nightmare, don’t ye?” Sykes put in.
A few gasps ran around the room, but I nodded and braced my forelegs on the podium. “That’s right. So far, we know they’ve got two pieces. I have the third.”
“What good is that to them?” one of the Stilettos sitting at the back called. “How did they even get those two?”
“Careful maneuvering,” I replied. “Astral Skylark was, at one time, a thief. She managed to steal part of the armor from the Royal Vaults. She had some ‘unique’ markings on her face which suggested she might have put on the helmet. It didn’t react well.”
“Wait, how do you know that?” somepony asked, though I didn’t see who.
I shifted my weight from hoof to hoof. “Simple. She kept some mementos of her time on the other side of the law. I found them after I killed her.”
I suppose the response shouldn’t have surprised me, but then, the number of ponies who knew that particular piece of information wasn’t that high. This is one of the reasons I am not in politics; situational honesty is a dangerous condition to have when you’re dealing with even a moderately friendly room.
“—seriously just say what I think he said?”
“—Chief of Police just—”
“What do you mean you killed Astral—”
Picking up the microphone, I held it to my muzzle and blew a raspberry into it. The buzz filled the room until it drowned out all conversation entirely. After about ten seconds, everypony had given up trying and fallen silent.
“Alright, people! I’m done with ‘shock and outrage’. You want this briefing, you sit quietly until I’m done, or I’ll have you removed and you can hear it second hoof. Got me?” I growled.
When I had a general consent, mostly in the form of everyone sitting down and shutting their various beaks, muzzles, and other cakeholes, I continued.
“The Hitlan and Tokan had another piece of the armor. Based on our intel, Umbra, Animus, and Armature may have paid off a dragon noble to attack the Hitlan and Tokan homelands. Then our dear mayor, Snifter, invited them to bring their treasuries and families to the city. All it took, from there, was the attack on the Moonwalk Hotel.”
I took a deep breath, watching the griffins out of the corner of my eye as they glared daggers at the dragons who were sitting opposite them.
Before they could get too riled, I added, “The Emberites here are an outcast dragon nation who supported Equestria during the war. Apparently, someone stole their eggs for reasons unknown. I’m sure you can relate. Still, that leaves the chestpiece. Someone in Canterlot suggested putting it on a moving tour as a means of keeping it safe and to bait out possible thieves. It should have been an excellent solution, and against any small time thief or even an organized group, it probably would have been.”
“So...why in tarnation wasn’t it?” After Glow asked, nodding at the ceiling. “Ah mean, Ah know the Princesses ain’t stupid. They got crazy security! Heck, Ah hardly believe Skylark could get inta the Royal Vaults!”
I gave her an exaggerated shrug. “I don’t have all the details of how it was done, but nopony banked on a centuries old conspiracy with a city’s worth of resources to call on,” I answered, grabbing the glass of water off the podium and downing it “Fortunately, the conspiracy didn’t bank on one smart, sweet, resourceful little filly who was just looking for a new home. Her name was Ruby Blue. For reasons unknown, she stole the helmet from Skylark and hid it. She was murdered, and that’s where the trail began. I was the cop assigned to her death. I now have the helmet in my possession.”
“Detective, while this is all terribly interesting, I must ask: do you perchance have a course of action in mind?” Stella asked, slithering up onto his seat and tossing his boa back around his neck.
“I have an extremely reliable source who suggests Canterlot hasn’t actually been destroyed. They seem to think it’s been transported to the moon.”
It occurs to me that, if I’d known the remainder of my life would be composed of rooms full of people looking at me like I was crazy, I’m pretty sure I’d have eaten a bullet some time ago.
“Eh...Ah think ye’d best mebe el-abor-ate on that, Mister Boiled,” After Glow said into the ensuing silence, levitating one of her Stilettos out of a folding chair so she could sit down.
“My reliable source says that, if we can disrupt the Web of Dark Wishes, there’s a good chance we could get the Princesses back. Maybe even the capital. That means, in all likelihood, destroying the Shield. Per usual, I’m keeping the details to myself and a select few.”
Venture Capital, the Lunar Passage’s representative, raised himself to his hooves.
“Your graceful pardon, Crusader, but who is this reliable source?” he asked.
“A source reliable enough that their name wouldn’t mean a damn thing to any of you, but who I trust implicitly,” I said, unable to keep a bit of an edge out of my voice. “I have been mucking my way through blood and guts this last month to bring you this tiny sliver of information. Right now, we’ve got a course of action. Since I don’t know if there are any spies here, I’m keeping it to myself, for now. I need you lot to keep yourselves safe and fortify your positions so we don’t find ourselves inadvertently fueling that wish machine with more chaos and violence.”
“Hrmmm...Detective...ah, excuse me...Chief Hard Boiled,” Iris Jade began, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Those things that attacked the Castle destroyed it with almost no losses. There would have been even more bloodshed if you hadn’t done whatever it was you did to the File Cloud, and I hear there are still some weird things slithering around that side of town. You’ll excuse me if I don’t exactly like our odds, even with an advantage in numbers.”
I flicked my tail around my flank and grinned at her. “And that, Miss Jade, is why you’re going to be working alongside my grandfather and the Aroyo Ancestors to give every pony who can hold a gun a crash course in killing. We need an army to retake Uptown. You’re going to give me one.”
“Me?!”
Apple Bloom’s ears perked up as her image moved a little closer to the projector, deforming slightly. “Wait, Hard Boiled...what’d ya say just now? Yer grandfather is—”
“—is right here, Miss Bloom!”
The telepathic shout lost some of its impact when Bloom didn’t react to it, but then she was only a projection. However, she couldn’t have missed the panicked reactions of several ponies nearest the door to the appearance of a skeleton in a new sports jacket with a cigarette perched in his teeth. A dozen guns were pointed in his direction before anyone could do more than let out some frightened yelps.
“Stand down!” Stella thundered as a bright green shield bubble snapped into being around Bones. “I say, stand down and put those weapons away!”
“Heh...oh come on! Kinda like having guns pointed at me these days, since I don’t so much need to worry about holes. Feels real comfortable and familiar,” Bones chuckled, trotting down the catwalk as every eye tracked him. “What? Ain’t anypony gonna offer me a seat?”
I sighed and put my forehead on the podium. “Ladies and gentlecolts, may I please introduce my grandfather. Yes, he is undead. Yes, he is a prick. No, you can’t shoot him. Yes, I want to, too.”
“You’re telling us that is Egg Head?” Scootaloo gasped, her mechanical legs grinding as she all but leapt from her rocking chair and rushed closer to the projector. “Gosh, and I thought I needed upgrades.”
“I can’t talk to them, can I?” Bones asked, tapping the side of his skull.
“He can’t speak through the projector, ladies. Corpse problems,” I grumbled, then glared down at the ponies who still hadn’t dropped their guns. “Look, I’ve already issued my quota of death threats for the day, so understand that my next ‘threat’ will come with a loud bang. Anyone want one?”
It took a moment, but most everyone decided they didn’t and the shield around Bones to vanish.
Waving my leg at the door, I set the mic back on the podium. “Alright, briefing is over. Summary? We’ve got a plan, we’re not telling you what it is, we’re going to fix things, and then when all of this is over you can line up to hang, shoot, poison, or incinerate me to your heart’s content. Don’t die, don’t kill any innocents, and protect yourselves as best you can. Does anyone have any questions?”
A few cautious hooves and claws rose into the air.
I smacked the mic so it let out a shrill shriek, and every one of those legs was instinctively yanked back down.
“No? Good! Anyone who knows they can stay, stay. Everyone else, get out, so I can coordinate with my dead grandfather, a hyper-intelligent machine gestalt, and that sea serpent over there!”
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Its amazing to see writers with so much....well I don't really know how els to say it besides this, you have gone 5 years...5 YEARS! writing this and its still not done....you have so much talent and it shows, 99% of people would have been out of ideas and just ended it or canceled it, but you are still going, its amazing, so I tip my hat to you, keep up the good work.
And that day, Hard Boiled became Bugs Bunny.
We’re getting there. After all this time, both in-story and in the real, we’re getting there.
Kinda-spoilery question: Probably obvious, but I’m guessing those dialogue-only snippets are from a future discussion between Hard and Twilight? When is Best Purple Princess Pony making a reappearance proper within the story? Her, Hardy, Lim, Taxi, Swift and Mags – they’d be the new Mane Six. (Or Seven if you include Bones. Or Eight if you also include Iris.)
Why can't I upvote again?!
Me thinks Hardy is enjoying tweaking his dangerous audience members a bit too much....
Again Hardy, these outbursts are why you are not going to be a hit on the political scene, far too much honesty in a far too brusque package... unless, of course, it is somepony you offended taking a hit out on you... but then again, the queue for this option probably goes around the block by now!
Yes, Hardy, being an smartarse who others just want to shoot seems to be a family trait... see above note...
An untapped market... prosthetics for undead ponies... maybe they can sign up The Warden and Egg Head as experimental clients...
Chessie, I add my words of appreciation for your work to the rest of those here... this has developed into an excellent example of its type and the length and breadth it covers is way beyond the norm. Your characterisations are excellent and the 'tone of voice' you develop in your dialogue is so well done that even mystery conversation participants can be identified by the phrasing and structure used... at least I hope you were expecting us to identify the participants in the future conversation inserts.
Keep on keeping on!
So the title for this chapter is a report on what happened after this meeting, right? You just can't get good help these days.
8335575 I think he just got in touch with a little part of himself he really should have been taking care of for a long, long time. Poor guy. I feel so bad for Hardy. I feel even worse for what's coming.
8335716 I admit, I'm repeatedly shocked you guys keep enjoying it. I've got some even more insane crap coming up. For real, 'The Office' is a fucking ride, even in mental outline format.
8335719 I think it might just be an alternative title for the whole book.
-Chessie
This is the the beginning of the end here. I can feel it. After this, it's going to be no brakes till the sun shines again. Which actually leaves room for plenty more chapters, actually. I sure as heck don't want this to end anytime soon.
Side note, Hardy's comment about something guiding his progress got me thinking. Other than the divine will of the Author, a less fourth wall breaking reason might be Diamante Voluntas (I hope I spelled it right, autocorrect turned it into "voluntary"). The first appearance of a character being actually genuine and not the conspiracy everyone thought it was? It would be un-twist.
I was listening to the Destiny soundtrack while reading this, in particular, the track titled "Bow to no one". I found it quite fitting for the scene when Hardy enters the council. It was quite fitting. Too bad the Warden wasn't there, I'd wanted to see her reaction to a fellow undead who was just as
uglypretty as she was. I'd still bet Bones looks better though.8335747
Is it the repressed gay side of him? I wouldn't be surprised to know it exists...just saying....
A creator's harshest critic is themselves, amirite? But we mean it when we say this story is good. Interesting. Your story is good. Good enough to make me write a thing I never did before.
Stella has so much bad ass back story going down. How many other dragons did they have to take out with extreme prejudice in order to get their collection of accolades and fear on sight?
Oh well, looks like the two methods I was thinking of wouldnt be possible. Cant cause teh eclipse to end by blowing up the moon with an Eclipse Cannon because Theyre using Canterlot there to hold it hostage, and cant launch Detrot to impact the moon because of all the civilian excavations below it.
Now to see if The Fates realise that the Eye like Web of Wishes forms a geometrical polyhedra in higher dimentions, and that hitting certain Spires in sequence can be The Core of a far more effective attack?
8335854 You're still missing the most important element! Teeheehee! I've already told you everything you need to know to work out what the real answer is. You just missed it. Believe me, you'd have to be Sherlock Holmes himself to have figured out the actual history of Detrot.
-Chessie
The end is drawing nigh. And everyone is gearing up for war.
Seriously, I wish I had RPG maker, cause this would make for a fun game (though Konami would be even BIGGER jerks as I would sorta make it play like the Suikoden series).
Best line this chapter by far
8336047
And if Bones breaks out into "Spooky Scary Skeletons", I will lose it!
I loved that part mainly case you can just hear the exhaustion and exasperation when reading it.
This was a nice chapter, and its a good start. atleast now people know somewhat of whats going on. in the story i mean.
I hahe to say Chessie, I squealed in an ENTIRELY dignified fashion when I saw this update, and boy howdy did you not disappoint.
8336925 Awww, you're welcome. My philosophy is still 'If nothing interesting is going on, why am I writing it?' So, always gotta have something neat happen. Even if it's a bit of gay kissing.
8336781 Now there are two of them. This cannot end well.
-Chessie
WOW, this update happened out of nowhere.
Also, I still give tons of credit to you continuing to write out this story. Your perseverance is something inspiring I must say
That title is most amusing.
I was just the other day wondering when this was going to be updated.
8337998 I'm sorry it took so long. The move and general life exhaustion have been really taking their toll on me.
-Chessie
8338213
Oh hush.
Never apologize for such things.
Life happens.
End of story.
I thought she usually paralyzed him, and let other ponies cause the bleeding.
Harmony will be optimized.
And he probably could have done it without the knife.
Uh, Hardy, that's not exactly a rousing endorsement.
Wow. I didn't think Mags had that good a grasp on astrogation.
Attack of the Killer Tomatoes reference?
Well, they'll get the chance for sure ...
Slip, I don't think you have anything Jade wants.
Dumb luck, emphasis on the dumb.
But Hardy, your day won't be complete if someone doesn't shoot at you at least once!
Ah ah, Hardy, I think you mean that it won't do any good to shoot him. Though I kind of want to see somepony try it anyway.
Hehe I can't decide which part was my favorite the scarlet hardy interaction bones showing up or the way he ended the meeting I'll just take option d and go for all three
Essentially perfection. This chapter felt like the final respite and the final summing up
of what's come before the final showdown.
I welcome it.
8354138 And yet...none of you know why all of this has happened, yet. The truth is still sitting there, just out of reach...
-Chessie
This chapter is just fun, and loving stella's little poke with the emberites. i chuckled something fierce with the idea of a dragon squeaking.
And sad I missed this slipping through the update notifications. Every bit of this just brings a happy smile. The little pokes and nods are just icing on the cake.
I love these updates so darn much, and this is the story I always look forward to each new update.
You think that is bad, you should have seen what happened when the rutabagas discovered solipsism, never mind what happened during the Orange Revolution where all the cabbage bourgeoisie were beheaded...
Other, more martial sapient cultures like Diamond Dogs, Griffons, and Buffalo hold the Philosopher-King and the Philosopher-Warrior in high regard. Leave it to ponies to invent the Philosopher-Chef...
In historical terms, Hard Boiled's 'Dressing Room Speech' was neither eloquent nor fancy. It was not a swelling oration delivered to throngs, it was simply a hurried, matter-of-fact summary delivered by a tired, grumpy detective. Approximately 36 ponies and griffons heard Hardy's famous speech—but every one of those 36 later became great heroes and leaders in the upcoming war for Detrot and Equestria...
The Apprentice, Onion Bagels and the Art of Public Speaking
8451192 I...may, in some fashion, use this at a point. It gave me the giggles. God, when this is all over, I've got to send you guys a bunch of cookies.
-Chessie
8451223
Oh yes! Please do.
Late to the party, I know, but...
I get the feeling "to vanish" should be "vanished", or some other small tweak?
8601258
Those sorts of finds do help us. Once the story is done, I think I may see if I can give it a full edit pass.
-Chessie
That first paragraph rips your heart out, and then the following scene with Scarlet patches it back up.
You switched the dragon siblings genders. Scorch is supposed to be the sister.
*COUGH* *cough* *COugh*
what...
OHHHH MYYYYY GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOD
EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
THISISEVERYHTINGIWANTEDANDMOREOMGTHISISSOAMAZINGISHIPTHEMHARDERTHANTHETITANICU//W//U
Hardy kissing scarlet reminds me of how Jason and Aubry get together in a welcoming I like to read
ScarletXHardy... GOD YES, PLEASE! Kinda wish Hardy still had that problem of speaking his thoughts when he kissed Scarlet.
Also, I'd like to point out that poor Hardy is becoming some kind of immortal masochist. He dies over and over and just keeps pushing buttons until a shotgun gets shoved down his throat.
I still find this funny
The unicorn leyline iron
Straighten your hair, straighten your leylines, still can't straighten the detective though.
I know it's a handheld but my brain wants the funny colander.
Oh. Oh right.
...that has to be horrifying.