Starlight Over Detrot
Act 2, Chapter 40: Could be Worse, Could be Raining
That words have power is not really in dispute in any land, least of all Equestria.
Tales tell of a mare who brought a well-known god of chaos to heel simply with well-chosen words and basic emotional manipulation. Sufficient complaining has managed to twist entire civilizations into temporary servitude - at least, specific civilizations to whom the ball gag was apparently a foreign concept until recently. Conversely, poorly choreographed entreaties for peace have sparked messy wars.
But this, again, is the magical land of Equestria, and Equestria loves nothing if not literalizing. Words can have an intensely physical power. The right curse can freeze minds and produce storms. Granny Clodhopper, despite having the eloquence of a tire iron caught in a wood chipper, is generally regarded amongst Equestria’s greatest wordsmiths because she could greet people in a way that physically stripped paint from buildings and once stopped a dragon flock with a critique of their maternal heritage so withering that they actually lost facial scales to gale-force winds.
The sheer power of verbal effects has led to a budding study in Profanomancy, a type of emotional magic based around the ability to generate utterances vile enough to approximate a number of magical effects. While not a highly regarded practice given its inherent potential for discord, it is one of a handful of magical studies not solely restricted to unicorn use, for it can be practiced by anyone with a tongue, a solid helping of bloody-mindedness, and the will to say things that would make your average schoolmarm burst into flames.
--The Scholar
“Ahhh…”
I let out a soft sound of pleasure as I sank into the hot water. A shower is one thing. A bath is something else entirely. Scarlet had managed to find me a private bath chamber with its own spring after Pickle finished his medical procedures and pronounced me ‘fit as a fiddle but in need of an immediate delousing,' lest I suffer - in his words - ‘bowel distress like a dragon who’d eaten a cheese factory.'
This had the side benefit of a very hot bath with some wonderful, scented herbs sprinkled into it.
Yes, Cerise needed to be run home. Yes, I had a whole stack of horrible things coming for me if that didn’t happen soon. Yes, there was something in Ruby’s trunk we needed to retrieve. Yes, there was still the matter of covering up the events at Supermax in a more complete and solid way.
Damn me, though, if it didn’t feel good to just lay back and relax.
Our arrival back at the Vivarium was met with much fanfare and demands from Granny Glow for a debriefing, but I managed to put her off until after the doctors had seen to us. The shrapnel in Taxi’s leg was going to take a bit to remove and the wounds needed magical healing. She’d already had the beginnings of an infection and that needed its own special brand of tender loving care.
Limerence was sleeping off the after effects of the Beam and whatever it was that Wisteria had dosed him with. He’d been unconscious through the entire treatment. I hadn’t seen Swift since Scarlet dragged her off to some secret corner somewhere to get the full story.
That left me time to sit back, close my eyes, and try to come down.
I inhaled a deep breath, feeling my shoulders unkinking. They were only the first of many things that needed to come unknotted before I could call myself well and truly relaxed, but I’d told Scarlet if anypony wanted anything within the next hour to take a message.
The bath door slid open and somepony trotted in across the stone-effect floor, their loud hoofsteps echoing around the tiny chamber.
“Sir?”
I didn’t move or open my eyes, but I did muster the will to respond.
“What is it, kid?”
“Do you mind if I join you?”
“Knock yourself out. I imagine you need a dip as much as I do.”
The hoofsteps approached, then I heard the water moving as little waves splashed against my chest. I sank a bit deeper, until water closed over my upper lip.
Swift gasped as she felt the hot bath starting to work its magic. I cracked one eye at her as she sat on the opposite side of the little pool, her huge wings spread open on its surface and her mane plastered to her neck. She looked a bit like a drowned terrier.
“They couldn’t find you your own herbal bath?” I chuckled.
“Not that didn’t have Taxi and Minox in it,” she replied, her cheeks flushed. “She grabbed him the second she was out of treatment and they’re… um…" She fumbled for an appropriate description. "...They’re next door.”
“I guess I can’t blame her,” I replied, glancing towards the wall. Thankfully, either Taxi was being uncharacteristically quiet with a full-size minotaur, or the sound-proofing was good and thick. “Once we’ve got this situation in hoof, I intend to take a couple of days to fortify our positions before we head back out there.”
Swift nervously twirled her hoof in the steamy water.
“Kid, whatever it is you have to say, spit it out.”
She sighed and lowered herself until just her eyes, muzzle, and wingtips were above the water. “It’s gonna make more work for us…”
“Then hit me with it when I’m relaxed,” I said, hauling myself into a sitting position. “I take it you noticed something back there that’s going to alarm me?”
“Sir... do you remember what Astral Skylark said?”
“Which thing? She said a lot of things, and I might have been sort of concentrating on methods we might use to walk out of there alive.”
Raising her head, she tossed her mane, slinging water against the wall as she pushed it back out of her face. “I mean... about her patrons. She said they were the ones who were having her kill ponies.”
I tugged my hat off the side of the pool, pulling it back down over my eyes. It’d been freshly laundered, despite being tucked into my very safe pockets throughout most of our adventures in Supermax. The action was mostly an excuse to gather my thoughts.
“Now you mention it… yeah, I did pick up on that. It wasn’t just that they were having her systematically kill ponies. They were having her… donate… phylacteries to them.”
“That means there’s a bunch of souls still out there, trapped in bones or horns or...or wings,” she swallowed, feathers twitching.
I nodded, pushing my hat down over my ears. “It also means that, whatever their game-plan is, we might not have disrupted it terribly much, if at all. That means we better hope there’s something in Ruby’s trunk, diary, or in Skylark’s journal that can tell us something about where to go next.”
“Sir, we know where to go next! The law firm! If we can have Chief Jade storm the place, we could catch everypony unawares and then we’d have the cult along with the lawyers and we could-”
“What, kid? Go to Princess Celestia with them?” I asked.
“Yes!” she blurted. “We could give this to the Princess and she’d take care of everything!”
I gave her a look, then shook my head, sadly. “She’d take care of the magical assassins who put a bullet in my chest? Or the Moon-gun that can slice and dice a dragon which is still unaccounted for? Or the conspiracy whose purpose and shape we still don’t know? Or the missing chestplate of Nightmare Moon, whose location we haven’t figured out?”
“Why not?” Swift asked.
I shrugged. “Maybe she could. Or maybe we’d show up to her door with a group of lawyers who know almost nothing because this group operates in cells. Geranium doesn’t know who she was working for. Not really. Neither did Cosmo nor Reginald Bari. None of them knew who was pulling the strings. I don’t know if Skylark did, either. We’d hand Princess Celestia the evidence of necromancy and say ‘Yes, prosecute all of these rich, well connected ponies!’...real public like. Then what?”
“You don’t think they’d believe us, Sir?” she asked, pensively.
“Oh, of course they would. There's some hard evidence. We might even get some medals. Then the rich ponies would find somepony to pay off, or plea bargain, or run for the zebra lands and hope they can escape extradition. This is Detrot, kid. Not Canterlot. The real conspirators would walk away clean and whatever their actual goals are might proceed apace. At best, they go underground for awhile.” I let my shoulder slump. “Being as this group plays the long game... who knows? They might not mind another ten years sitting, waiting.”
“Then... so what do we do?”
“We hunt this conspiracy down while we still have the advantage. I can’t dig the corruption out of Detrot, but this conspiracy has been a huge section of the worst our city has to offer. Whatever their final goals are, they’ve gone to great lengths to set this city on a course to destruction.”
“B-but wouldn’t telling ponies about it mean... mean they’d help?” she asked.
“Some might, yes...but remember that thing I said about ‘real public like’?” I reminded her. “Unless we have the entire story...we’d be telling the whole world about Tourniquet...and about us. A magically altered pegasus whose family business includes dragons and prostitutes. A former cop with a bug’s heart. The heir to a criminal dynasty. Taxi… and all that Taxi is.”
Swift’s eyes popped. “Oh, I hadn’t even thought about the press…”
“Yeah, the press,” I said, nodding. “We go public with this or let anypony know the absolute truth of what we know, then everyone we love will end up in the crosshairs. It’ll be either those assassins...or the court of public opinion. Are you really confident in how well the public will respond? You think we can make absolutely sure, here and now today, that none of those killers can get to anypony we love?”
My partner’s wings were shaking, making little ripples in the steaming water.
“So...you...want us to take out this conspiracy-”
“Then we’ll know who these killers are. Then, hopefully, it won’t matter who we are. Our friends will be safe. The city will be safe. The Princesses will be safe.”
Heaving her wings out of the water, Swift crawled onto the side of the pool and rolled onto her side, dragging a spare towel from a stack nearby and settling it underneath her head like a pillow. I could feel her gaze from under the brim of my hat as I relaxed in the pool.
I waited for the inevitable question. I hoped it’d be something like ‘What do you want for dinner?’ or maybe ‘Can I take a nap here?’
No such luck.
“Sir, this is what it means to be a ‘hero’, isn’t it?” she asked, softly. I heard a hitch in her voice that sounded like there might be a few tears coming.
It was a good question, really. I hated myself a little for not having a good answer.
“If it makes you feel better about some of the stuff we keep having to do, sure. I don’t think the Power Ponies have as many nightmares, though.”
She sniffled, then wiped at her nose with the edge of the towel. “I thought I was the only one who couldn’t sleep lately...”
“Survival is just about the only thing on my mind. We’ve got one extremely long shot that could let us walk away with our heads on our shoulders and fewer dead than doing nothing.”
Swift pushed herself up, trotting around the side of the pool until she was beside me, settling down with her chin on the foreleg I had propped on the water’s edge. “Sir, if I ask you to be completely, one hundred percent honest with me...will you do it?”
I tilted my head at her, raising the brim of my hat just enough so I could see her out of one eye. Her eyes were a little sunken with exhaustion, but she was still full of that same vibrant energy the young never know they have. I miss having that energy.
“I can’t guarantee I will, kid. Whatever else Tourniquet said, she was right about me.”
Her ears pulled back a bit. “You’d lie to me if you thought it would make things better?”
“Absolutely,” I replied, without hesitation.
Swift considered this for a long time, shifting her head a little closer to my shoulder. I shut my eyes, inhaling the herbs and trying to absorb the quiet into my very being as though I might store it up for some later time.
“Sir, do you think we can win?”
I laughed, bumping her cheek with my hat brim. “Not a chance.”
Her nose scrunched and she gave me a cutting look. “Then why-...oh…” She squinted at me as realization replaced irritation. “You said that to make me angry enough to keep trying, didn’t you?”
“Who knows?” I ruffled her damp mane with my free hoof. “You want to worry about the future, worry about dinner. Dinner is nice and reliable.”
She giggled, poking me with her pinions. “It’s breakfast time, Sir.”
As though he’d been waiting for his moment, the door of the private bath slid open and Scarlet poked his head in. “Detective! Munchies and debriefing in ten! Miss Stella wants to know exactly what happened at Supermax! I’ll have your clean clothes brought up.”
****
Bagels! Bagels! Bagels!
Bagels are life. Bagels are stability. Bagels are a return to form when all the universe is going mad.
Bagels even occlude dignity and I am a pony who values his dignity. Granted, most everyone I know doesn’t value my dignity, but I am quite fond of it. It should be a measure of just how much I love bagels that when I spotted the basket of steaming, fresh out-of-the-oven goodness sitting on a spare table in Stella’s audience pool, I tackled it.
“Sir, some of us want some, too!” Swift complained, poking me with a hoof. I nipped the air in her direction, hugging the basket to my chest with both forelegs.
“Get your own happiness!” I snapped, then buried my face in the warm bread products.
I heard laughter and raised my head. Scarlet was rolling back and forth on the shore of Stella’s pool, giggling his tail off with Taxi sitting behind him, a tiny smile on her face. Her eyes were a touch glazed and a rolling IV drip was attached to her front leg.
I swallowed my first bagel, pulled a jar of peanut butter off the table, and tore into my second one. Dignity be damned. I hadn’t eaten since the cafeteria in Supermax.
“Why don’t I go get some more? Miss Stella and Miss Glow will be with you soon. They’re handling a customer who got a little over-enthusiastic with a watermelon,” Scarlet snickered, trotting back down the hallway and leaving me with my drugged driver and scowling partner. Some thoughtful pony had dragged a few cushions into the audience chamber and, for the next few minutes, we lazed beside Stella’s pool, watching the water lap at the shore. Taxi looked noticeably calmer and more relaxed after her ‘bath’, although that might have been the morphine.
Swift settled on a banana from the table full of refreshments, stripping the peel and popping the whole thing into her muzzle while I worked my way through the trove of bagels and we waited for our hosts to arrive. There wasn’t much to say, and I had a mouth that was being otherwise occupied.
After a good ten minutes later, uneven hoofsteps announced Granny Glow. The elderly unicorn hobbled out of the tunnel and her eyes flicked about until she found Swift, pausing briefly on the red crescent on her chest. Swift had elected to keep her combat vest unzipped a few inches, just to show Tourniquet’s mark.
Then she caught me in a smoldering glare. I managed to choke down the bagel in my mouth, unconsciously scooting back a few inches.
“Boy... ye better have a damn fine explanation fer what Ah hear tell is takin’ mah little birdy into the Hole with ya,” she growled, trotting over to the edge of the pool. “Ah also wanna know who that there girly ye brought in was and why tha docs say every one'a ye was takin’ a swim in a septic tank!”
“Believe me, a full explanation... is coming,” I gasped, patting my chest until I could breathe again. “At least, as full as I can afford to give you.”
Glow picked up Swift in her magic, dragging her over to take a closer look at the magical brand on her grand-daughter’s fur. She jabbed her hoof at the spot. “And birdy, ye wanna be telling me what ye dun’ to yahself here?!”
Swift let out a little harumph and gave her wings a beat, blowing herself out of her grandmother’s magical field before coming to rest beside her. “It’s a gift from a friend, Gran. I...um...I kinda got a new job...”
“Yer daddy is gonna… well, he’s probably gonna explode. Gittin’ yerself a tattoo… heh! Good on ye, girl!” The old mare cackled, breaking out into a sudden grin. “Ye be sure to lemme know the details when ye see’em, ye hear?”
Swift rolled her eyes. “Trust me, if just having it was the worst part, I think Daddy would be happy...”
Before Glow could ask for clarification, the audience chamber rumbled slightly and Stella slid out of the water, flicking his purple fins with consternation. He was wearing a night-cap I could have used for a tent and what must have been, for him, almost no makeup. Still, he smiled when he saw me, producing all the familiar feelings of deep-seated terror that go with a dragon smiling at you.
“Ah, my little darlings!” he purred. “I’m most pleased your adventures bore fruit, although there is some curiosity as to who our latest guest is.”
“That’s a bit of a story…” I replied as Scarlet dragged a tray into the room with a simply enormous vat of tea sitting on it. I couldn’t figure out how it was meant to be tapped, until Stella picked it up and took a quiet sip.
Dragging my basket of bagels over to one of the cushions, I dunked one in the jar of peanut butter before messily tearing into it. Taxi sat beside me and began lazily drizzling a donut in hot sauce.
“Well, please my dears, I’m all ears,” Stella said, raising his crests.
“The first thing you should probably know is that the King of Ace attempting to blackmail half the city was only one tiny piece of a much, much larger puzzle…”
****
I was exhausted and bringing Stella up to date had taken more out of me than I thought it would.
There’d been a tiny kerfluffle when it was finally revealed exactly who Cerise was, but that couldn’t be helped. Granny Glow held off on drowning me long enough for a complete explanation and Swift stopped her before I actually had to inhale any of the water.
The explanation of Tourniquet and Swift’s new tattoo had Glow laughing so hard she forgot to be angry that I’d taken her grand-daughter into such a dangerous place.
Throughout, Stella maintained a grave expression as he slurped at his bucket of tea. The only change was when I began the story of Astral Skylark’s final moments and related the true nature of the Church of the Lunar Passage; his frown deepened into a scowl and he waved a claw towards Scarlet to come forward. They exchanged a few words about ‘adjusting investments’ and ‘redirecting funds’, but I didn’t understand much of it.
“What was that all about?” I asked when they’d finished their little conversation.
“The Church propped up various parts of this city,” Stella chuckled, swirling the liquid in his cup. “They gave an outlet for the guilty to salve their neuroses and they took care of the homeless. With them gone, both now fall to those most capable and most ambitious. Either way, there is money to be made, my sweet Detective, and ponies to be catered to.”
Scarlet held up a clipboard in front of me. On it, there was a map of the city with various sections drawn in different colors. Stella’s secretary pointed to one spot that was a rich shade of purple, matching Stella’s scales. Compared to the city as a whole or the red and blue sections I took to represent the Jewelers and Cyclones, it was tiny, but it was bigger than I’d thought.
“The elimination of the Jewelers in the area around the Monte Cheval has given us room for expansion!” he exclaimed. “The local Cyclones have also reduced their activities in several areas. Without the Church diverting ponies there, we can build homeless shelters, then funnel the homeless into employed positions at new businesses we control! Without the Jewelers putting pressure on them, the Stilettos can take care of a much wider area. Then, we can channel fresh finances from the new businesses back into our coffers!”
I cocked my head at the map, then pushed it aside. “And the guilty?”
Stella’s tail slapped the water, sending a spray over the lot of us. “Oh, dear Hard Boiled… my innocent friend, do you not know the other fine salve for guilt?”
I glanced around at my partner, then at Granny Glow, before turning back to the serpent.
His forked tongue snuck out between his teeth and he hissed, “Vice, Detective. I could have started a church here, allowing you ponies to worship at my claws in exchange for protection and safety… but a puppet is ever so much duller than a willing participant. I would rather let you worship one another and reap the rewards. Being a messiah is such difficult work, after all, and I am a dragon of leisure.”
I smirked and waved a hoof towards the clipboard. “You and your altruism might just save this city.”
He swept back, reclining against the wall as he flipped his boa across his chest. “Oh, that’s sweet of you to say, Detective… but I shan't be running for mayor just yet. Maybe we’ll save that for you? After all, without your efforts, none of this would be possible. Still, what do you intend to do, now?”
I pulled Ruby’s diary out of my pocket, flipping to the last few pages which were all that was left with any writing on them. “Well, with those Moon Guns I gave to Scarlet out of play, I am going to take a shot at the lawfirm of Umbra, Animus, and Armature. I haven’t got a plan for that just yet, but about twelve hours worth of sleep is a start. Speaking of that, I’m minutes from passing out. Have you found the trunk I left here?”
Stella shook his head. “I have already added the Moonfire Weapons to my hoard, per your request. They are quite the lovely little mechanical horrors, by the way. If nothing else, they will warn away any fellow dragons who might consider my territory an easy target. As for your trunk, we will hunt it down, but it may take a few hours searching. Not all of our employees are here, though as they filter in we’ll ask around until we find out which one has it.”
“Good. Can you have it ready when we get back to pick up Cerise? My friends and I need rest.” I looked over at Taxi, who had been silent throughout my story and discovered her laying on her side, one foreleg clutching a pillow while the other held her IV-tube. She was dead asleep. “Could you also maybe call us a cab and get somepony to follow us in the Night Trotter?”
****
The cab that deposited us at the edge of the Skids left us with a five block walk, during which I had to carry Taxi who was too far gone after the mix of blood loss, drugs, and healing magics to really move herself.
Stella had promised to keep Cerise sedated and see what he could do for her leylines, but we still had to make the delivery to Precious.
I don't remember much beyond the moment I nosed the door of the Nest open and dropped Taxi into a beanbag chair. Limerence was sitting at the table with an icepack on his head. One of his eyes moved in our general direction, but he didn't seem inclined to hold a conversation just yet. That was fine with me.
I staggered into the hall, shoving open the first room and falling face first into one of the bunk-beds. I was out before my head hit the pillow.
****
Thank Celestia I didn’t remember but a tenth of the crap my brain had seen fit to spew out that night.
Dangerous lights on the horizon.
A flash and a dead mare at my hooves.
The sounds of tearing wings.
One of these days, I will make a psychologist rich enough to afford his own psychologist to fix the nightmares I’m likely to give him.
****
My eyes were almost crusted shut as I came out of what felt like a second month-long coma. I shifted on the bed, trying not to whimper like a puppy who’d found his mother left while he was asleep, but that’s damn well how I felt.
The various aches and pains of the night before were gone, probably thanks to Gale, but a persistent anxiety wouldn’t bugger off long enough for me to turn over and go back to sleep. I felt a slight pressure on my chest and reached up to find that somepony had taken the liberty of rolling me over and plugging me in while I was out. An extension cord led off the bed into the nearest wall-socket.
Grabbing the cord in my teeth, I pulled it out and did the complicated mouth and hoof gymnastics involved in zipping myself back up. I’d have to see one day about a better option than that zipper.
My hat was on the pillow beside me and whoever had plugged my heart in had also managed to get me out of my coat. My revolver was still on my leg, but the safety was on. The shotgun was... now that I thought about it, I hadn’t seen it since we’d gone into the sewage line. Meh. No big loss.
I tugged my revolver out of its harness, turning the weapon in my hooves. My faithful revolver. My father’s revolver. I smiled and started to tuck it away when something glittered on it’s dark metal surface. I squinted at it, then lifted the weapon closer.
A two centimeter wide perfect circle on the side of the breach seemed to have been polished to a perfectly reflective silver. Inside it, a series of drawings or runes of some kind seemed to have been etched into the metal.
I scratched at the edge of the little circle and some of it peeled away, revealing more shiny metal and more strange symbols.
My breathing was becoming a little erratic, so I stopped and laid my weapon on the pillow.
I shut my eyes.
Still dreaming, I told myself. You’re still dreaming, Hardy. Your gun is fine. You’ll wake up in a minute and it’ll be perfectly alright.
I swallowed another jumpy breath, then cracked one eye.
The shining circle was still there.
I pinched myself and blinked a few times.
“Alright, so... it’s not a big deal, right?” I said, aloud. “I mean, it doesn’t seem like it’s damaged, right?”
I opened the breach and flicked the remaining bullets onto the bed, then pulled the hammer back and fanned the trigger a few times. The action seemed fine. I clicked the safety back and forth, then brushed my toe over the spot where the surface was scoured open. Another tiny flake of material cracked and fell.
Come to think of it… wasn’t that where that mare back in the temple shot me?
Had she shot me?
I didn’t really have time to think about it, but she’d died right in front of me. Her gun exploded. Most of her face was scorched off, in fact. We didn’t have a weapon in our arsenal that could do that.
A P.E.A.C.E. cannon shell at extremely close range, maybe, but I’d known where Taxi was and it was nowhere near the lethal range of even the nastiest shot in her arsenal. The mare who died was the last pony with a Moon Gun, too, so it wasn’t one of those.
Swift? She said she was rubbish with weather manipulation so lightning was probably out and that ridiculous blaster she carted around wouldn’t have turned the girl’s face into a piece of modern art, even if she had been going for headshots.
Limerence’s horn was barely holding his crossbow while he pulled his little wall-walking trick. The rest of the unicorns were too high to cast anything and Skylark had already dipped out.
Maybe the weapon had misfired? Maybe, but I’d seen the light from the barrel.
She’d shot me and she’d hit me, or rather, she’d hit my revolver.
I didn’t know how to feel. Should I be angry? It was, after all, the only thing my father and my grandfather had given me that I still had. The rest burned with my apartment. Sad? It was, technically, just a gun and it didn’t seem to have been damaged. Surely I could just paint over the spot. Granted, there wasn’t supposed to be a spot.
Those Moon weapons were designed to shear open dragons. I’d watched one cut a pony in half like so much tissue paper.
All these thoughts were kinda superfluous. If my revolver was damaged, the best I could do was take it to the Don and see if there was anything he could do for it. It’s not as though magical weapons can be serviced down at your local gun shop. They aren’t supposed to need service. That’s half the point of having one.
Since the Don was already on my list of places to go, I slid my revolver back into the holster, cinched it in tight, and threw on my coat.
****
I poked my head out of the barracks room and was greeted by the smell of eggs and fresh baked biscuits.
Swift and Taxi were sitting at the living room table, while Limerence heaped veggie omelettes the size of my head onto their plates. He was wearing a frilly, little blue apron and a chef’s hat that made him look dorkier than a whole box of pocket protectors, but he was smiling. I couldn’t remember when I’d seen him smile before, if ever.
“Ah, Detective!” he called out. “Come along, then! Breakfast is ready!”
I quietly stepped back into the barracks, retrieved my bullets, and reloaded my revolver. No sense in going out there unarmed, particularly if my librarian had been replaced by a changeling.
Trotting into the living room, I plunked myself behind the table and set my trigger bit in front of me.
Limerence laid a plate in front of me, followed by a mountain of eggs and steamed vegetables. “Try some, Detective! Old family spice recipe, from the homeland!”
He toddled off back towards the little kitchen, leaving me with a hoof-spoon and my companions staring at me expectantly. Taxi was still wearing a bandage on her leg and Swift was already in her combat vest, but neither of them looked to have their weapons closeby.
Swift made a little ‘go on’ motion with her hoof.
“Why is he smiling and making us food? I need to know this right now, because I’m very, very worried and I think I might shoot him just to be safe...” I murmured.
Swift scooped another heaping spoonful of eggs into her muzzle. “Ish deliciush!”
“Beam is known to have interesting psychiatric properties,” Taxi replied, nodding at our librarian’s back. “One of them seems to be putting Lim in a good mood. He’s been like that since I woke up. I told him most of the Moon Guns were disposed of and he didn’t even bat an eyelash. He wasn’t even upset his pocketwatch wasn’t working after the dunking in the sewer, although he did take a minute to call some repair place in town before he started cooking.”
“Are we sure he hasn’t been brainwashed or something? Did you feed some of this to the dog first to see if it’s poisoned?” I asked, gesturing to where Goofball was snoozing in one corner with a sleepy Shadow Walk napping in the crook of his foreleg.
Taxi nodded. “The mutt seemed alright, but then, I saw him eat three of your beer bottles earlier.”
“That’s nothing!” Swift added. “Yesterday, he got thirsty and drank two whole gallons of gasoline!”
I put a hoof to my forehead, then picked up a spoon full of Lim’s eggs. “Please don’t let him lick the plates. I don’t want to have to go buy new ones.”
Cautious, I took a bite and, for several seconds, I found myself unable to think. My mouth burned a little, but there were undertones of happy Sunday mornings watching cartoons, and laying by a pond, and peaceful hillsides.
Whatever his personality flaws, Limerence was a damn fine cook.
I started to scarf down the meal with great abandon. Even without bagels, it was a masterpiece.
For about ten minutes, there silence around the little table. Limerence reappeared and settled down to his own meal, politely tipping his bowler to me. That pleasant smile didn’t leave his face the whole time.
Between bites, I finally found a place to start making some plans.
“First thing this morning, we deliver Cerise to the Prince of Detrot. Precious can handle her mother and I’ve no desire to put myself anywhere near Iris Jade’s sights. Then, we handle the box. Speaking of that, did Stella call?”
Taxi shook her head. “Yes, while you were asleep. He said they found it and asked if we wanted it couriered over, but I told him to hold it and we’d come get it when we pick up Cerise.”
“Well, at least we know it fits in the back seat,” I replied. “Lemme find that letter from Ruby that opens the damn thing and then we can go face this particular music.” I raised my voice so as to be heard in the kitchen. “Hey! Lim! Call your father and let him know we’re coming!”
****
Limerence’s contact ritual was an extra ten minutes and I was already antsy to get us on our way. I was vaguely aware I needed more rest, but that seemed immaterial against the various impending dooms hanging overhead.
When he emerged from the kitchen, he was still smiling. I really wished he’d stop.
“Father says he looks forward to seeing us, Detective! He was most pleased by the outcome of our little venture and looks forward to the acquisition of our final target,” he said, almost vibrating with good cheer.
“Final target?” I asked. “You mean the last Moon Gun?”
“Yes! We’ve still a thing to be done after all. Where shall we begin our search?” he asked, cheerily.
“Well... Cerise is our top priority, then Ruby Blue’s trunk. I want whatever is in it. We’ll come up with a plan after we go see your father. He and I have some things we need to... discuss,” I said, pulling my sleeve down over the damaged spot on my gun.
***
The box was waiting for us behind the Vivarium with a bored looking Minox sitting on top of it. As he saw the cab rounding the edge of the Vivarium’s shopping mall, he leapt to his hooves. Taxi yanked up on the parking brake and was out before the cab had rolled to a stop, throwing herself into his arms and thoroughly ruffling his tux. He didn’t seem to mind as he picked her up in a hug and she planted a hoof-curling kiss on him.
When they came up for air, I jerked my head at the trunk.
“I see our luggage...where’s our girl?” I asked.
Minox took a second to catch his breath after that kiss, then chuckled as he set my driver down. “I figure, you got… eh... limited space, yes? Waz most ‘genius! Ze girl, she in ze trunk.”
Somepony had taped the trunk’s lock open, so I just had to push the top off. Inside, Cerise was still sleeping peacefully. Some thoughtful creature had given her a pillow and blanket. She did fit comfortably and it solved our transportation problem.
“I’m sure I should find this wrong, somehow,” I said.
“You said the same thing the last time we put a pony in there, Sir,” Swift said, grabbing the handle on the end and dragging it towards the car.
“Yes, but that particular pony had choked me half to death not ten minutes prior. I wasn’t feeling especially generous.”
Taxi patted the box as she popped the rear door open. “Well, this pony killed half the inner circle of the Lunar Passage and was considering ripping you into little pieces. I think it all evens out, don’t you?”
I waved for Minox’s attention, since it was mostly centered on my driver’s backside. He jerked his head up.
“What’s the status of the supplies and ponies we asked you to send out to Supermax?” I asked.
“Ze supplies, zey be ready soon! Ve meet ze... ’Aroyos’ at ze prison?”
“That’s right,” I affirmed. “These are some skittish characters, so no guns, and no Stilettos. You show a weapon, they’ll have the doors locked down tight. Drop the supplies out front and leave. Oh! And whatever you do, don’t go inside. The top three floors of that place are full of an especially nasty magic poison.”
“Ve do as ze Detective say,” the minotaur replied, with a shrug, adjusting his bowtie back to center.
I smiled as I squeezed into the Night Trotter beside the trunk full of the Chief’s daughter. “And would you let the lizard know we’re grateful?”
“Ze ‘lizard’...heh. He be well aware of how tightly he holds ze Detective’s… how you say… яйца.”
I nodded as though I understood, then pulled the door shut as Taxi hopped back behind the wheel and started the engine.
“What are... ’yai-sa’ or whatever he just said?” I asked as we pulled away.
“Eggs, Detective. It’s a minotaur word that means ‘eggs’,” Limerence replied, with a tiny smirk.
“Stella holds my eggs? Is that a dragon thing?”
“Your balls, Hardy,” Taxi chimed in. “Euphemism for testicles.”
I rubbed at my forehead with one hoof and grumbled, “Remind me to piss in his pool next time we’re down there...”
****
I pushed open the front door of the Burning Love and stopped in my tracks, staring at the counter. More specifically, behind the counter.
“Lily?!” I exclaimed.
Lily Blue was leaning on Precious’ countertop, a magazine propped open in front of her. She was wearing a slightly modified version of one of the Prince’s sparkling jumpsuits, albeit fitted to a mare’s frame. It showed off a few angles and curves that the eye would tend to overlook on most days and suited her surprisingly well.
She looked up and a genuine smile blossomed on her face. How long since I’d gotten one of those? My heart lurched and I put a hoof to my chest, wondering if Gale had suddenly malfunctioned.
No, no he hadn’t.
It’d just been a long time since a mare looked at me like that.
She rushed out from behind the counter and into my forelegs, hugging me tightly.
Oooh, boy. Clean thoughts, clean thoughts..
“Detective! Are you here to see Mister Precious? Have there been any developments in my sister’s case?” she asked, excitedly, clutching at my chest.
I gently disengaged from the hug after it had gone on a few seconds longer than propriety might have otherwise encouraged. “You could say that. Why has the Prince got you minding the counter?”
She stepped back and grinned, smoothing down the sequins on her suit. “Well, I… I couldn’t just impose on him. He’s been so kind and I know he doesn’t like to admit it, but he’s kinda…um...”
“Old?” Taxi chuckled, shoving the trunk with Cerise in it ahead of herself as she came in behind me. “He’s got a vain streak, but he knows he’s no spring chicken.”
I snickered, stepping to one side as my partner and Limerence followed her in.
“That and I imagine he likes having a pretty filly out front,” I added and Lily blushed, demurely. “Where is he?”
“He’s out doing some work for those griffins who are staying in town. You know, the ones the mayor let come? Their leader asked if he’d do a show and maybe fix the toilets the hotel was having trouble with. He said he’d be back soon,” she explained, moving back to the counter. I had to force my eyes not to follow the bounce of her hips. Since they were covered in glittering latex, that took some effort.
“Why am I not surprised the griffins know about Mister Precious?” Swift giggled, tucking her wings in against her sides.
“Kid, that pony has friends on every continent. You best be sure the griffins know him,” I replied, then turned to Ruby’s trunk. Lily’s eyes fell on the box and she blinked a couple of times.
“Is this my sister’s traveling trunk!” she squeaked, darting over and putting her hooves on the cover. “Oh Celestia and Luna save me… it is! Where did you find it?!”
Before I could stop her, she pushed the top off and looked down into the face of the unconscious girl inside.
I expected a scream, or a squeak, or something along those lines. What I got was a sideways glance.
“Detective, I know you’re working really hard to find out everything that happened to my sister, but please tell me you didn’t foalnap somepony,” she murmured.
“I didn’t foalnap anyone, or at least, I don’t think she’d object if she were conscious enough to register an opinion. Believe it or not, that’s the Chief of Police’s daughter and... you know, I don’t think I can actually explain this in a way that sounds sane and rational,” I replied, scratching at my chin.
“Well, why did you bring her here?” she asked, looking a bit leery.
I glanced at Swift and she pulled the box farther into the room so we could close the door. “I think I’d rather have Precious between me and her mother when the Chief looks over her injuries. I know she’ll be safe here, too. Besides, we needed a safe place to figure out what exactly your sister hid inside it.”
Lily’s nose wrinkled. “Did she use that silly spell that makes something appear empty?”
“You got it. Now can we get this cargo out of sight somewhere? If there aren’t some especially nasty ponies looking for her right now, then there will be soon.”
With a tiny shrug, Lily’s horn lit up and the box, girl and all, levitated off the carpet. Her name might have been a delicate flower, but there was nothing delicate about how powerful all those years of farm work had left her horn. She didn’t even strain as she carried the trunk along behind her.
“Hardy, wipe your mouth before you leave a stain on the carpet,” Taxi snickered, giving me a little bump with her hip.
I swallowed,dragging my fetlock across my muzzle, and followed Lily up the stairs towards the back rooms.
****
Upstairs, we situated Cerise in one of the spare bedrooms, tucking her into the cot with a pillow under her head. Stella’s medicians had done a brilliant job of cleaning her up, but there’d been nothing they could do for her ley-lines. That was just going to take time.
That done, we wheeled the box back into Lily’s room and Taxi, Limerence, and Swift sat on the floor. Lily put some music on the gramophone and got some snacks.
It was by unspoken agreement that we needed to know what, exactly, Ruby’s diary contained, before we went fetching whatever was in the box.
I opened the diary and took a deep breath, then began to read. The last entry ended shortly after Ruby’s last tidbit of information that’d led us to Supermax, so I skipped ahead.
It’s been a whole day since I got to the Convent.
I guess I should say ‘day one’, since I think this is a new life all over again.
Day one of my rebirth?
New life sounds weird. Rebirth sounds better.
Lily, I wish I could tell you what it’s been like here. Yeah, I know, I’m writing to you again. I don’t know what else to write. ‘Dear Diary’ just sounds dumb.
Would you believe, it’s in an old prison? I don’t know how long I can stay, but I feel so very peaceful here. It’s even better than the shelter. All of these ponies spend their time praying, or working. There’s lots of ponies coming and going, so I don’t think anypony really knows anypony else, except Miss Skylark. That doesn’t matter to me all that much. I’m not here to make friends. I’m here to do the good work.
My horn hurts a little, but they said that’s some kind of magic dampening field that’s been here since the prison was closed. It’s nothing bad or dangerous.
I feel cleaner. I went to group twice today, and even though I was so tired I dropped right into bed afterwards, I felt spectacular. I almost wrote a letter to Crisp Luck’s family. Almost.
At the very least, the ponies who attacked my shop won’t find me here.
****
Day two of my rebirth.
Miss Skylark came by to see me today!
I hadn’t seen her since the day she told me I should come and become a full member of the Church. She sat in my room and talked with me for a full hour, just listening to what my life was like.
I even told her about Crisp Luck.
Then she held me while I cried. We prayed together and I cried until it felt okay again.
Lily, I know you’d never go for this Church thing and I’m not even sure I really believe Princess Luna is watching over me, but it feels really good to have ponies who care. If nothing else, these Church ponies care an awful lot.
****
Day four of my rebirth
Sorry, I forgot to write yesterday. Busy, busy day! There is so much to get used to here, but honestly, it’s not that different from the shelter. I mean, everything is underground, but there’s some windows in the common area on the top floor that let in the sunlight. They’re not terribly big, but there’s a bunch of them.
After my work was done, I sat in the sun with one of the older residents. He was a sweet pony named - You know, I don’t actually think I asked for his name? He has a bit of a speech impediment and he’s very old. He has three blue horseshoes for a cutie-mark, though and he’s very kind. We played a board game and talked.
I still feel guilty. How can I be sitting here, enjoying myself while Crisp is in the hospital? She doesn’t deserve what happened to her. I mean, those... those bastards took her wings! How can somepony do that to somepony else?
I don’t know. Part of me wishes it’d been me. I was the one they wanted. How could I be so dumb?
****
Day five of my rebirth.
I’ve been having funny dreams. Really funny.
I can hear words in my head, but it’s not like thoughts. It’s like somepony is speaking, except I’m not hearing with my ears. I might tell somepony in group about it.
Then again, maybe not.
Either way, I spent today working in the kitchens. There’s a filly there who says Miss Skylark asked her to help with one of the regular rituals. She has the funniest accent, too! She says ‘dem’ and ‘dey’ instead of ‘them’ and ‘they’. From what she says, she used to be part of one of the local street gangs.
Anyway, the rituals. Whatever these rituals are, they’re very secretive. Everypony knows they happen, but nopony knows who goes. We’re all supposed to stay in our cells when they happen, but she promised to tell me what went on afterwards. After the ritual, she’ll be a full member of the church and they’ll send her out to one of the missions in the zebra lands, or into the buffalo territories.
I honestly hope Miss Skylark lets me join in one day. I don’t think I’d mind being a full part of the church. Maybe, if I’m far enough from here, I could start my business again. Nopony would look for me in the zebra lands, and it would only be temporary. The zebra really like their jewelry, right?
****
Day seven of my rebirth
I’m kinda sad today.
My friend from the kitchens is gone already. She didn’t have time to say goodbye, but when I asked about her they said the only sky-chariot out to the outpost she was taking had been early that morning, not long after the ritual. Apparently it’d been planned for some time. Oh well.
More strange dreams. I saw a cityscape burning. Teeth. I woke up covered in sweat.
****
Day nine of my rebirth.
Lily, you won’t believe it! They’re going to have a special ritual just for me here in a couple of days!
Miss Skylark came by today to tell me! She had that funny mare, Geranium or whatever, with her and she seemed very excited that I was going to be inducted into the church. Her assistant was just grumpy, but I think she’s always grumpy.
This does mean changing rooms. I’ve got to move my stuff downstairs into one of the ‘private’ chambers. Not that I have much to move. Almost everything I own is still in my trunk, and that’s in storage.
I’m supposed to spend the next day in prayer, which is probably going to be really boring, but I don’t mind if it means I might be able to get away from this city! There’s nopony on that floor besides me. I just have to do this one thing for Miss Skylark, and then I can be a full member of the church and I can go where they send me. I’ll be away from here.
Maybe, after I’m done with my service, I can come home.
I really would like that, I think. Maybe I can finally apologize.
P.S. These dreams are starting to worry me. If they keep going, I’m going to tell Miss Skylark about them. She’s here an awful lot, although she spends the rest of her week traveling from place to place. Maybe after the ritual. I’d better start packing up my stuff to head down there!
Sis...One day soon, I’ll come home. I promise. I promise, I’ll come home and see you.
I turned the next page and paused.
“What? Sir, what is it?” Swift asked, poking her head over my shoulder.
“The next bit is... strange. I can barely read it. It’s like somepony was just splashing ink on the page.” I leaned down and sniffed at the paper. “...Ink and... blood.”
Lily got to her hooves, sliding off the bed and and moving around behind me, peering down over my shoulder.
“My sister would never do that to one of her diaries! These were her life!”
“Alright, lemme see if I can figure out what this says under this mess. Sweets, do you have some paper and something I can do a rubbing with?” I asked. My driver nodded and passed me a pencil and a bit of scratch paper. I quickly laid it over the page and began scrubbing at it with the pencil.
The words, as they came through the paper, were damaged and hard to read. Why somepony wouldn’t just rip the page out what beyond me if they were going to go to that much trouble to cover up the content. Still, after a few minutes, I could make out a bit of it.
Everypony crowded in, trying to see what was coming off the paper.
“Screaming in... I think that word is brain. Maybe this is ‘number’?” Taxi said.
“Numerals. That word is definitely ‘numerals’,” Limerence corrected.
“Then this part seems to be a sentence, but every third word is gone. ‘The shadows weary or... no, I think that’s ‘weeping’,” Swift added.
“I think that next part is an equation of some kind,” the librarian said. “The mathematical form is from a very, very old system, but… it looks like the answer was zephirum. Most interesting.”
“Zephirum?” Lily asked, confused. Her ears wiggled back and forth slightly.
“Zero. That would date this equation, certainly. Zephirum was the first true concept of space without anything in it. The symbol you see here that looks like an upturned horseshoe is zero, or more accurately, ‘nothing’. It may seem a rather basic thing to you-”
I put a hoof on Limerence’s mouth before he could really work up a good lather. “No lectures today please. What does it mean? Why would Ruby write this crap in the back of her diary?”
His horn flickered and pushed my toe away. “Look at the hoof-writing, Detective. Miss Lily there is correct. That is not the same pony who wrote those last few entries. The pony who wrote this was clearly out of their mind. They used forceful strokes, but unless Miss Ruby Blue acquired a sudden knowledge of ancient systems for determining probabilistic frameworks, this cannot be the same pony.”
Taxi snatched the book and flipped through the next several pages, all of which were similarly defaced. “Hardy, he’s right. Look. Whoever messed this up missed part of a word here. That looks like ‘crooked’ or ‘croon’, but… that’s not Ruby’s hornwriting.”
I pulled at my face with one toe, trying to work it into shape. “Alright, that...asks more questions than it answers. Damn. I was hoping she could tell us what actually happened back there and how she ended up working for the Vivarium.”
“But this is just weird, isn’t it? I mean, my sister was always kind of flighty, but that looks like a crazy pony did it…” Lily murmured, poking at the crusted pages covered in splotches of blood and ink.
“That’s a good question, but not the one I want answered,” I said, closing the diary. “What I want to know is why she felt the need to hide this from us?”
There was a pause, then all eyes slowly turned toward the trunk sitting beside Lily’s bed. After a second, everypony else looked up at me with quiet expectation in their eyes.
My tongue was very dry as I let the diary fall closed in my hooves, then bent down and picked it up in my teeth. I’d carried it since the day of my death. It was the only link between myself and the girl who sent me to the other side in pursuit of the truth. I guess it was silly that I’d have gotten a little attached to it, but the book had given me a reason to live. Those pages gave me back a sense of power over my own destiny that I thought I’d lost when Juniper died.
Still, they’d told me their truths. They’d led me here. Their purpose was served. I didn’t know if I was going to get them back when I put them into the box, but it had to be done.
I shook my head, trying to clear my thoughts and calm my nerves as Swift pulled open the trunk and stepped back.
Old boy, you best be clear, I thought. You died once. You are probably going to do it again. You want to, you can still lay this all on the Princesses. Walk away, take your medal, and let the truth go. They’ll probably figure something out if you’re honest with them. I mean, it’s not as though you’ve got anything to lose if somepony else screws the pooch, right?
I glanced at my driver and she put on an encouraging smile. Limerence seemed a tad impatient, but his eyes were lit with curiosity. Swift brushed my side with her wing tip and nodded in the direction the box.
Lily just watched me, her soft eyes like a warm kiss on a cold day.
For a very brief moment, I could see the fires burning over Detrot as the city became row upon row of jagged teeth. I could hear the screams of devoured innocents. I could feel heat from the funeral pyres, or maybe it was the breath of the beast moments from finishing its meal.
I shoved the vision away and laid the book reverently in the trunk, then fished the letter out of my pocket as Swift closed the top. Unfolding the paper, I took a solidifying breath. The lock snapped shut.
I began to read. As I reached the final passage, something rattled inside the box. The jewels on the lock were flashing a series of different colors, but after a few seconds they settled into the same set they’d been in before and there was a second ‘click’ as the clasp popped open.
There was no sense in waiting, but my heartbeat felt like a drum solo inside my chest.
‘Moment of truth, kiddo,’ Juniper whispered.
I pushed the top open and everypony peered inside.
There was silence in the room as everyone’s breath caught in their throats.
“Detective," murmured Limerence, breaking the hush, "it is not often I find myself of a mind to use low profanity, but from my amateur perspective, I do believe the words I’m seeking for this particular circumstance may be ‘oh’ and ‘horseapples.'"
There, nestled in a sheet in one corner of Ruby Blue’s traveling trunk, lay the helm of Nightmare Moon.
... I read the Scholar's preface in Confusion...But now that I've gotten to the end, "Oh Horseapples" seems appropriate. along with Littlepip-esque levels of profanity and a hearty full-felt "Oh Dear"
-Angel of Team Angelfang
I knew it! Well, sort of. I knew that the other parts had been stolen.
Ok, we know for sure the breastplate (still missing) and the helm were stolen. We can be pretty sure the other parts have been too. So where are they? Evil lawyer firm seems most likely.
Skylark was going to try to ascend without all the pieces, which is interesting. She almost certainly knew that the helm was stolen (again), and it seems highly unlikely that the Princesses would not notice it. Presumably Skylark intended to kill Celestia shortly after ascending. One would think that she would want the full armor set then, since she was trying to become a reincarnation of Nightmare Moon. Yet she wasn't delaying the ritual (or at least had given up on the helm.)
It's all very strange and worrying. Upon ascension, it would be one incredible event, no matter what happens. Skylark wins, things go bad. Skylark loses...well things are still bad (and she would probably lose.) In fact, it seems likely that the only way Skylark could have even a chance of winning would be if A) the ascension was not noticed, and B) she had the full armor, and no doubt the enchantments that come with it. Yet she was still pushing forward.
I feel like Skylark was simply being used, and didn't even realize she was following orders. This also leads me to think that the lawyers, (or whoever is the big bad) don't really care what happened after the ascension, just that it happened. I think they just wanted the fight, and didn't care whether Skylark won or lost. If killing Princess Celestia, who controls the sun and is probably the most powerful being on the planet, save perhaps Discord, is simply a nice benefit to a smaller plan, what on earth is their main goal? It is terrifying...
We know that this plan, or series of plans, has been going on for decades. Gangs were pushed to into the front of Detrot, creating a rise of crime. Skylark was an assassination attempt on Celestia involving a mass murder, as well as many smaller murders. No matter the outcome, there would death, pain, and chaos. The King of Aces was a simple pawn in attempting to reacquire the helm. More assassins were created from regular ponies. The two we know of were both members of PACT. Chief Jade got her position thanks to them.
I am really starting to think it is a new dracqoni or however you spell Discord's species coming into play. All of these actions seem to cause chaos or pain. I highly doubt it is a pony, though it could be a cult passed through the ages. Any pony would be at least middle aged or older by now, so they probably wouldn't be this patient.
Anyways great update. I can't wait for the double date, and for the return of the daughter. (Also, for some reason I want the final battle to be between the bad guy lawyers and Hard Boiled in the full armor of Nightmare Moon. With Scarlet cheering him on.)
oh boy, she had stolen the the helm of nightmare moon from the cult. oh dear lord. now they have the helm of an ancient dark pony and likely whoever WANTED it still after them.
i do not think precious is gonna be enough right now.
A reminder that the Vivarium is as corrupt as the rest of Detrot; they're just not jerks about it.
10 bits says they already have, and Hardy is part of it.
5352054
Apparently it's based on the tags; yours is a [Dark][Comedy][Adventure], and so is this, and that's good enough to count as 'related'.
I somehow how doubt the Princesses are stupid enough to be ignorant of Detrot or to be unable to hide the fact that they know something. I think Hardy's got some kind of mental complex.
I suspect somepony doesn't like the leverage that Celestia and Luna have and wants them out of the picture or at least not free to act. I also find it kind of sketchy that any of this stuff poses a real threat to them. I'm still not entirely clear on whether NMM's armor matters at all or is simply a secondary gambit/attempt to throw off the scent.
It appears that Ruby was either very unfortunate or much deeper in that it would appear from the outside. Also, I'm a bit suspicious about Skylark's mental integrity. It would be very interesting if she had her own 'nightmare ...' which abandoned her for a better shell sometime around the time they resolved the whole Supermax thing. She seemed a bit unprepared, frail, etc at the last minute and not at all like the sort of pony who could have masterminded all of that.
Pick one flick or the other, not both
That said—ooooh! Like saying 'how hard can it be?'
I had to stop reading for a moment because this made me laugh for several minutes straight.
I'm trying to imagine what Hardy looks like in Nightmare's helm
Everyone on my IRC channels knows when this updates because 1) I tell them and 2) I start quoting it without any context for them
And the main thing I took away from this was Lily in a jumpsuit - Hardy needs to turn his swag down; Stella might get jealous.
5352136 detrot is the perfect place for this shit to happen. because detrot is at the very tip of the reach of the regal sisters, just far enough that their sight of it is hazy.
put simply it is far enough from the seat of power that, if they are cautious enough, they can work without interception by demigoddesses and or element bearer equivalents.
5352664
It's not that their view is hazy, so much as it is that that they have many other things to worry about and much of the bad stuff that happens in Detrot is very much under wraps. The craziness is deep below the surface of day-to-day affairs and there is clearly more going on than even the vile debauchery and evil that was Hardy and the others disrupted. Besides if they left their watch over other places then other things might get out of control. The princesses aren't spymasters, they're rulers. If the eyes of their advisors are clouded or drawn away from some things, they will be limited. I just find it unlikely that they are as in the dark as Hardy is and that they are unconcerned about the moon weapons. It may even be that they have deliberately avoided direct contact because their presence is not discreet and plain messages can be intercepted. In any case, they wouldn't want their enemies to know that they know as that would make their enemies more careful and less likely to accidentally expose themselves.
I don't think the Princesses generally interfere, that's what the police and guard are for and the police at least are constrained in a lot of ways, some legal and some from outside pressures. I'm not sure if the elements would really be able to help anyway in most cases. They can't make a pony something that they aren't.
5352697 the princesses have been playing the game of politics for centuries. they are not spymasters, but have them likely, and have them where they are needed. detrot is at the very edge of theri influence.
5352054
The Profanisaurus grimoire is one of several dangerous, restricted tomes (such as The Anarchist's Pastry Cookbook, The Bronynomicon, and Protocols of G1 and Megan) that are forbidden to non-registered and non-certified academics. The Profanisaurus is life's work of the mysterious and enigmatic Roger, thought to be the forgotten younger brother of Star Swirl the Bearded, who also created and perfected general purpose utility curses for everyday use like "buck", "horseapples", and "gruncid" (although some curses have fallen out of common use as technology has progressed).
A minor crisis occurred in the year 22 ALR when a researcher named Airhead absent mindedly forgot his Profanisaurus research notes on the train where they were quickly discovered and disseminated much to the delight of chav graffiti artists and "edgy" musicians marketing to angsty teenagers. Fortunately for schoolmarms and parents of angsty, rebellious colts and fillies, the power of profanomantic curses can be quickly and effectively neutralised via liberal application of ordinary household barsoap.
I imagine Scarlet wanting to know all the details, pestering Taxi until she caved:
"TELLMETELLMETELLMETELLMETELLMETELLME!"
"Fine! Do you really want to know? We made
sweet love,had sex, rutted! Hot, sticky, steamy sex all afternoon long!We did things that would make your hooves curl, things they do not have names for and would get you banned from 3 major religions and 6 minor ones. They will have to invent new similes for this level of exuberant rutting! We made rabbits look inadequate!
It was so passionate the janitors smoked a cigarette when we were done. We ploughed each other so vigorously, so thoroughly, I am surprised we can see straight, let alone walk!
IT. WAS. AWESOME!"
"..."
"Really?"
"Nah. He just brushed my mane out, cradled me in his arms, and rocked me to sleep."
Oh my...
That is making me wince.
Fresh Frozen Watermellon - 15 bits
Surgical Hoofgloves (2 pair) - 3.75 bits
Mr. Slippy™ Silicone Lubricant (2 litres) - 81 bits
Crowbar - 11 bits
12 Wingpower 2500 kg Winch - 300 bits
Stallion's firsthoof experience to the pains and trials of foalbirth - Priceless
Hardy et al have turned the gangland power structure on its head over the course of the last month. I hope he does not inadvertently kick off that gang street war with all these power vacuums he is creating.
I wonder what Cast Iron makes of all this ruckus?
I imagine Stella would just love Ghouldini...
Speaking of puppets, I wonder how Stella feels about Hardy, what with him acting as unwitting errand pony for 3 of Detrot's largest criminal factions and the DPD? How many times has Hardy been manipulated into doing something by ponies/dragons/zebras/griffons/diamond dogs/changelings who subconsciously convinced him that their plans were actually Hardy's own ideas?
5352054
I was thinking the same thing too. Stella's got quite the horde now. If it were not for his enlightened self-interest in the Vivarium, I would suspect he was plotting something. He certainly has enough pieces now.
Rumour has it that Luna herself has taken a personal interest in Hardy's nightmares and has dedicated an entire platoon of crack, hoof-picked oneiromancers to him. If anything else, it gives her a bi-monthly source of entertainment (she never really got into the Rachael's Egg series like her sister...) in her otherwise dull and boring schedule.
Hardy backflushed several city blocks by discharging a small(ish) pistol in the sewers before. Now there is a magic heavy calibre combat shotgun missing somewhere in Detrot's sewers?
Given all the tensions with the gangs, the Summer Sun Celebration prep, the Griffon delegation, P.A.C.T., and the missing socialites, it seems Detrot is a mere hair trigger away from the horseapples hitting the fan. Literally.
Huh...
If Hardy still trusts Dom, I suppose he could get him to analyse those pistol runes. If not, I would imagine Cereus and Night Bloom would be interested in those runes as well.
So if Goofball loves your cooking, does that count as an endorsement or and indictment? Or maybe a sign that you should cut down on the petroleum distillates in the hollandaise sauce?
(I now have this barmy picture in my mind of Goofball tipping over cars and chewing on the petrol tank to get at that sweet sweet petrol goodness much the same way like my German Shepherd chewed up our tube of mint toothpaste.)
Well, given that dragons are oviparious, that would be a perfectly cromulent assumption to make. The other meaning takes on a whole new dimension once Stella's profession is taken into account. (Although I am sure the patrons that frequent the Mud Pie would appreciate that sort of thing...)
Gale says she is a keeper!
Trouble similar to the kind, say, a wayward combat shotgun could cause?
Caramel?!
I guess we now know what happened to those missing Cyclones...
Technically Skylark was not lying. I imagine those phylacteries were smuggled into zebra territories for nefarious magical purposes (or maybe they are simply using them to power their desk-lamps and kitchen appliances.)
Luna is going to have an entire research centre dedicated to these dreams at this rate.
5352063
That certainly is a scary thought; Hardy as Detrot's saviour. Poor stallion has probably been puppeteered by everypony he has met thus far (Except Cast Iron—Hardy is one of his best customers, and I cannot imagine Iron would want to harm their relationship).
Damnit Cereus, Night Bloom! You had one job! ONE JOB!
At this rate, they are looking at being permanently reassigned latrine duty in the draconic embassy.
Oh...oh dear...
Well, little Swifty sure is maturing huh? It seems a shame for her to be losing her youthful innocence but at the same time she's going to grow into one heck of a strong mare.
5352850 Do keep in mind...they were set to guard the chest plate. The helm, to everyone's knowledge, was still back in a vault in Canterlot.
-Chessie
5353636 Swift had to grow up a tiny bit. I mean, she wasn't gonna survive the end of the story if she didn't. Granted, she still might not survive the end of the story, but we're working on that.
-Chessie
Rorschach?
Glorious chapter, by the way!
Son of a ... I just realized, with a little creative spelling, you've got the villains from Resident Evil, Assassin's Creed, and Portal. I feel really dumb for taking this long to notice that.
*was beyond me.
If this story ends without at least a very clear implication of a Hardy/Lily roll in the hay, I think I will be very disappointed.
I feel like the reaction was appropriate. If not an understatement to the surprise.
How to handle this, now, without making the baddies fly the coop, while at the same time not irresponsibly jeopardizing national security even more, is going to be interesting. Very interesting.
I do have to say some of the locations and names have lost the meanings attached. I'm not sure what could really be done about it without damaging the story, though.
Also, I very much enjoyed the opening as a comedic piece. I was dismayed at the failure to arbitrarily graduate to act 3, though. Or maybe it was the chapter title (shouldn't it at least be a semicolon? )
5351966 I think the armor wasn't really required at all for the ascension, especially since it appeared to have been designed for failure.
As for the rest of the armor, it was really only the four boots/greaves/scarlets (basically, those forehoof/hoof covers) thet're left.
Even then, it's harder to picture magic shoes of doom than it is a helmet or breast-amulet piece. So even together they could easily be equally powerful or even nearly-powerless.
5353682 I know, I expected her to mature right from the start of this story, as long as she stays cute, I'm happy.
5353950 I was afraid of that.
One of the irritations of writing a story this long is that you're going to end up losing some of the characters to human memory if people aren't reading it all in one go. If you got the chance to read the whole thing as one story, I promise it would be easier. Most everybody is just reading one chapter every two weeks, though. It's tough to keep it all in mind at that rate.
I'll try to do regular recaps.
-Chessie
5354214
I'm not helping by actively editing four*, considering another one or two, tracking dozens, and usually eating up to 600k a week if I can find enough completed, interesting stories. At least I'm sticking mostly to already completed stories (but then those pesky sequels that aren't finished crop up).
I'm doing remarkably well at it as a whole. This is a story that's fairly distinct, and a lot of them are in a shared Fallout: Equestria setting. There are a few casualties that end up MIA when authors wait 8 months to update.
*One day I'll actually follow through making character & location charts for them to make life easier.
It possibly helps that you're supposed to better remember things reviewed before bed, and I get part of my pony fix then. Also, "when did it become 5 am?" is a frequent question. One that I'm wondering right now.
5354214
Rather than recaps, perhaps it might be helpful to have some sort of wiki set up, or even just a character index posted somewhere. A sentence or two about who the pony is and how Hardy met them would probably be more than enough for most of us to jog our memories when the name doesn't immediately ring a bell.
5354342 I second this idea!
5354282 I can, at least, promise there will never be a sequel to Starlight Over Detrot. I know that's gonna make a few people sad, but this universe is DONE the second I write the last word.
That said, I don't intend to leave anyone hanging where the various threads of the plot are concerned. You'll find out how Taxi lost her cutie-marks and the various other elements.
You'll also have an ending...because I must tell you...we haven't reached the climax yet.
-Chessie
...Oh sorry, I just fainted because of how Awesome this chapter was. The characters acted great, and the ending made me go "WWWHHHAAATTT"!
Oh, and I guess Hardy has a thing for Lily Blue now. That's cool...I guess.
5354609 He had a thing for Lily Blue the LAST time they were there. He'd have a thing for Ruby Blue, if she was still alive. She might be the only person in the whole history of Detrot he could have a functional relationship with.
-Chessie
5352713
Look, you're wasting your breath there, because you keep repeating yourself and it's clear we disagree.
5354551
Any particular reason? Is it too much work? Are you planning on killing off all the main characters?
Should be a space between "swallowed" and "dragging".
5355894 Three things, honestly.
1.I want to write an actual book. Starlight Over Detrot was started as an exercise. It began as nothing more than a place for me to learn to write and make mistakes.
2.It's entirely possible this story could cap out at 800k+ in length. I don't want to be one of those writers who writes book after book in the same universe out of sheer bloody mindedness. Piers Anthony needed to stop the Xanth series about twenty five books ago and Terry Pratchett, great as he is, was far more interesting when he was writing Good Omens than when he was writing the last Discworld book. There's a few on Fimfic who have SEVERAL million plus word fan-fics which are sequels of one another and they're awful, because they're going for quantity over quality or get get wrapped up in their world and don't want to let the story end.
3.I want to leave this story out there for other people to continue if they feel the need. Having the notion that 'more is coming' hanging over people's heads might screw that up. I love the idea of people writing fanfics of Starlight. It's been a great universe to experiment in and has it's own tone, without going all super-dark-dark-fuck-depression-dark-fuck like Fallout Equestria.
And yes, I'm planning on killing all of the main characters. Swift will end up being eaten by griffins, sacrificing herself to save a puppy who gets stomped on by a hydra in the next scene anyway. It'll be very tragic.
-Chessie
5356458 I really hope Swift doesn't die. I really hope you're joking.
5356458
1.) Err, Okay. Just because something starts as an exercise doesn't mean it needs to end that way. Worth remembering that what you see it as and what a given reader's perspective and attachment are can be two different things. -- Good luck with your book writing.
2.) As you wish. I don't necessarily agree on Xanth or Pratchett. In the first case, there's a degree to which the stories appear to be written as separate and only loosely cohesive stories and he is writing for money. I have generally enjoyed his writing at least to some extent. Pratchett was diagnosed with Alzheimers in 2007 so his writing since then has undoubtedly been a bit different. Also, Good Omens was written in 1990 which was over 20 years ago. Authors don't write exactly the same way forever. I don't know what you classify as 'sheer bloody-mindedness' or how you figure writing more than one book will cause that.
While I would generally agree that there are some overly wordy works out there, what they really need is a serious editor and some revision. By definition a world is large enough to get wrapped up in and the story of a world never ends, although that of a character may.
3.) I suppose that might be true, but that shouldn't be a reason to not write. I assume you mean that you feel that you have nothing more to add. Hopefully you can resolve the story in a way that ties up at least some of the loose ends so that any potential (fan*2)fic writers don't find it too hard to pick up where you left off.
I can kind of feel you on the Fallout Equestria thing. The original was okay, but far too many stories seem to follow the same formula to the letter and not all feel original. It's really frustrating that no one ever seems to make any inroads to a brighter future or happiness for themselves that last longer than a few moments at a time. Heroics are great, but never ending heroics and nothing else in life leave me wondering whether the character is mentally damaged.
I don't know how to take that. All I can say is that, if you meant that, may many horrible, unspeakably tragic things happen to you as well.
5353912
!
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Umbra/Umbrella - Ethically questionable, dodgy, genetic super-soldier biological research:
Swift, Stone, (Taxi?), and Grape Shot
Animus/Abstergo - Mass mind control and surveillance:
Scrying spell, moon cloak runes, and Tourniquet
Armature/Aperture - Portals:
Jingle's safe, (Ruby's trunk?), and Gale's "Love Kegerator"
5356458
Oh...
So like a Roald Dahl happy ending then?
5352565
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5356716 Or...you know...three words which mean 'Darkness, Control, And Evil Intent'.
-Chessie
Act 2, Chapter 40: "Could be Worse, Could be Raining"- Young Frankenstein?
What a Twist!
I know that was mostly a joke, and Swift could possibly still die, but for comedies sake you could do a Sandlot thing and say things about each character like: "Taxie and Hardy went on their vacation, but they were lost at sea and never seen again; Swift went on to be an accomplished writer, but shortly after finishing her last book in her 'Detective' series she was hit by a bus."
Stella just seems to be getting too much out of this...
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5357782 You know, that's actually where I pulled that particular name from? I loved that movie. Streetcar Named Desire was one of the few times Brando lived up to his ego.
Anyway, yeah, it was a joke. Honestly, if I did decide to kill one of the characters, it would be for an *extremely* good reason.
You guys gotta understand...I barely plan any of this. Hardly any at all.
-Chessie
5356614 I don't think the fact that Good Omens was written in the 90s is the reason at all. If you have read the Pratchett/Baxter collaborate books (The Long Earth series) then you'll see the same sort of interesting writing as the Pratchett/Gaiman book, and in fact, I think that the non-discworld book "Nation" was actually one of his best recent books.
Of his Discworld books, the Moist von Lipwig series seem to be the better ones lately too; so perhaps the issue is actually that when out of his comfort zone of the regular old discworld characters, he is writing better stuff.
That was a very good chapter, lots of progression and information was shared and we get to leave on a most well earned Oh Sh*t moment. Thank you again to the both of you. Can't wait for the next.
5358328
I think you missed my point there. The point I was making was simply that an author's writing could change and that a 20 year gap would be amenable to such.
I started reading "Long Earth", but it's very rough going. It really doesn't flow very well at times, perhaps due to different writing styles or the need to explain lots of things. I don't think I've read "Nation". What writing interests a person can be different. The books with "Moist von Lipwig" seem a bit different than his previous books. I don't know that it's really better so much as different. It's not quite as whimsical and a little more grounded. There's also a reliance on science and economics and less magic involved, so arguably it's a little less discworld-y. There's also his being diagnosed with Alzheimer's to consider which may affect his writing in subtle and unexpected ways.
5358025
Hard to tell when things are a joke, particularly if they're mixed in with seriousness. Also, the story's pretty dark and Hardy technically died once already and Swift went nutso and ended up somewhere else. It's not hard to imagine unpleasant outcomes and since you apparently go by the seat of your pants the reader has only limited clues to go on.
5352565
Had to give it a shot.
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5360670 BWAAAHAHAHAHA...okay, yes, I'm saving that forever.
-Chessie
Stella may have Hardy's "eggs", but Dom certainly has Hardy's heart. Here's hoping Dom does not decide Hardy has outlived his usefulness and pulls a "Code Yellow" a la Bioshock.
5360670
I for one welcome our new bagel-munching overlord
5364510 I think you mean 'The Don' there...eesh. Dom has certain connotations.
-Chessie
5360670 Utterly brilliant, you get a brony point.