Act 2, Chapter 49:Doom Doom Doomie Doom Da Doom
Starlight Over Detrot
Act 2, Chapter 49: Doom Doom Doomie Doom Da Doom
Carry Muleis, an-oft cited inspirational figure to the donkey community, is widely credited with making the Ponymerase Chain Reaction efficient enough to be used in mainstream research by using obscure parts of dragon cells. A lesser publicized aspect of his discovery, however, is that he did so while so completely filled with Beam he could barely walk straight, according to the expose supposedly written by his glowing green psychic space raccoon.
Mind-altering drugs, and Beam in particular, have been responsible for major developments in pony research, especially with respect to genetics; Prances Quick, the discover of the double-helix structure of PNA, partially credits Beam with his discovery. His theory is that the conscious mind evolved limiters on abstract thought, as a result of times when it was more important to evade predators and find grazing grounds than contemplate the nature of the universe; After all, anypony who began contemplating the structure of clouds or galaxies while fleeing a manticore usually did not do well with either. Supposedly, drugs like Beam remove these limiters.
Before the above encourages anyone to simply try Beam in an effort to advance science or their own thinking, two cautions are worth noting:
First, Beam did not make geniuses out of rodeo clowns. Quick and Muleis were brilliant doctorate-holders to begin with, and if the two are correct about the nature of their discovery, the drug likely merely allowed them to apply their genius in ways a sober mind could not.
Second, for every Quick or Muleis, there are a thousand ponies whose major drug-induced accomplishment is writing a screed about the majesty of a cough syrup spill that looks vaguely like Luna’s cutie mark, then waking up with absolutely no memory of doing so.
-The Scholar
Taxi arranged the unconscious Fauntleroy in a semi-upright position and set his book between his front claws in a way that suggested he might have fallen asleep.
“I wish he’d just gotten out of our way,” I said.
“He saw you as no threat and I am bound by certain conventions that dictate when I can and cannot harm members of my own tribe. Bernard was an edge case and Fauntleroy...well, it would have been frowned upon,” Edina replied, moving to his side and disconnecting the strange book on a chain from his waist. “I detest acting high and mighty for the sake of appearances, but it’s expected. Maybe it just reminds me too much of the cat and the bird. Two mad, stupid princesses. I suppose that’s part of why I left. Still, you handled that almost like a griffin.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment...although, typically when somepony jumps on me, I’d tend to want my sword, not my checkbook. What exactly is that?” I asked.
She flipped the book open and held it up. There was an arcane rune written in a dark brown ‘ink’ on a piece of parchment that I strongly suspected wasn’t made of plant matter. “It’s his collection of spells. They’re single use, very expensive, and incredibly dangerous scrolls. If he’d managed to touch this one in the proper fashion, it would have simultaneously set off an alarm and primed an enchantment on his claws that acts something like a taser.”
“That’s...surprisingly non-lethal for what I know about blood magic,” Taxi murmured, picking up the sheathed sword from Fauntleroy and hanging it around Edina’s neck.
“I said something like,” Edina corrected. “A taser with enough voltage can still flash fry your organs to a consistency that we who enjoy meat refer to as ‘pleasingly crunchy’.” Hooking the sword in place under her wing, she dropped the bit of rope she’d been using for a whip and attached Fauntleroy’s scroll book to the sword. “Be careful here, Detective. Even with my presence and the blood of the High Justice on your face, you are on unfriendly ground.”
Swift, meanwhile, was turning in little circles on the carpet.
“Sir? I don’t know entirely what this means, but my...um...my light display thing is going crazy. There are bunches of targets and no matter how I move, they stay in the same place.”
“Are...any of them moving?” I asked, nervously.
“A little?”
Taxi nudged the Hailstorm with her hip and the barrels clicked at her. “Do you think it’s...picking targets through the walls?”
“Creepy wartime technology isn’t what I majored in, Sweets,” I murmured. “Still, I’d like to make it to Derida without setting off any alarms. Edina, if we are confronted again, you’re here at your step-mother’s insistence. Swift, see if the locations of those targets provide any useful information.”
“Well, some of them are in red and some are green...and as I move...Oh! Okay, I think I get it. Targets farther away are in red. Neato! You, Taxi, and Edina are super, duper green!”
“I hope to Celestia that thing doesn’t feel you being perky is an instruction to fire...” I grunted. “How many targets are on this floor?”
Swift swung around, scanning over the walls. “I see about six close enough to be in this end of the penthouse. The rest are back the way we came. Most of the others seem to be downstairs.”
“Alright, single file, Edina in front. Try to look like we belong here.”
Taxi gave me a look, then pointed at the gigantic cannon strapped across her back. I peered down at the shotgun on my leg and Swift scratched at her mane as the Hailstorm’s barrels swiveled back and forth.
“Alright, then try to look heavily armed. Maybe nobody will want to mess with us.”
“I hate reminding you of this, but wishful thinking doesn’t constitute a strategic decision, Hardy.”
I ran a toe around the brim of my hat and grinned. “We’re still alive, aren’t we?”
****
The penthouse suite of the Moonwalk was nothing short of palatial. It was almost a tiny hotel unto itself. I opened the foyer’s inner door onto a hallway full of unnumbered rooms. Strangely enough, no-one was guarding those. I suppose two guards was plenty for a hotel in the middle of the city, though for some reason I couldn’t see the Hitlan leaving it at that.
“Huh,” I murmured. “I know I’m asking for trouble saying this, but I was expecting more resistance.”
“Stepmother understands finance, but she’s...well, she was a Hitlan who found the Tokan lifestyle more to her liking,” Edina said. “She never liked having guards on every door.”
“Right, that makes sense. Swift? Movement?”
She shook her head, still watching her magical heads-up display. “Not really. Most of the targets I see on this floor seem to be clustered over to our left. There are two on our right. One of them is much farther away and the other is...um...I think they’re over there.”
She jabbed her hoof at the second door down; a curl of puffy steam was rising out of the crack.
“Alright, everything in here is sound proofed. So long as we can avoid setting off any alarms, we should be fine.”
Keeping a weather eye on the other closed doors lining the hall, I trotted over to the one Swift pointed out and carefully twisted the handle. Finding it unlocked, I took a deep breath and pushed it open slow as I could until I could get an eye into the gap.
I felt a stab of envy for our griffin compatriots. The jacuzzi alone was about the size of my apartment. It might have been better termed an Equestria Games-sized swimming pool with a heater. A low fog-bank filled the room from end to end and I could just make out the shape of a griffin laying beside the pool. It seemed to have a towel draped over it.
A reedy, feminine voice called out, “Coriander, is that you? My shoulders are so tight today and your hooves are like magic.” She hadn’t lifted her head as she spoke. I sniffed at the air and caught a faint hint of something strong. I couldn’t quite place it.
Thinking quickly, I replied, “Sorry ma’am. Just turn down service. Would you like dinner delivered tonight?”
Raising one claw, she waved it in our direction. “A fresh yearling rabbit, please. I believe the chef is familiar with the Poulette recipe for lapin a la cocette.” She paused a moment and raised a stick of some kind with a light glow on the end to where I thought her beak might be; a cigarette. “Oh, and I could use some fresh Zap leaves. The Detrot flavor is so delightful. The concierge has my dealer’s details.”
My driver raised one eyebrow and mimed smoking something, then twirled a hoof beside her head in a circle.
The message was clear. She’s stoned out of her gourd.
I gave Edina a quick glance for confirmation and she nodded, flicking her claw towards the prone figure of her step-mother.
Slipping inside, I cushioned my steps as best I could while the rest of my crew moved in and spreading out. I noticed one of those gold-inlaid spellbooks laying right next to Derida. Pointing at it, I waved Edina forward.
“Of course, ma’am,” I said, soothingly as I could. “Is there anything else I can get you?”
It took her a full fifteen seconds to respond and when she did, her words were slurred. “No. One of my servants will arrange a tip for you.”
Edina lifted off, stirring the thick steam around my hooves as she coasted to the other side of the pool and, with a deft swipe, snatched the spellbook away, circled, and returned to my side in near perfect silence.
I grinned and swept my coat back off of my shotgun, trotting towards Derida. Leaning over her, I gently rested the barrel against the back of her head. Grabbing my trigger, I tilted the gun sideways and ratcheted the slide. It’s a completely pointless action once the gun is loaded and the shell that was in the chamber dropped at my hooves, but it makes such a magnificently attention-getting noise. Anyone who has ever seen a movie knows that sound and it’s ingrained in the psyche like the roar of a hydra.
Derida stiffened and her head slowly turned on her neck until she was facing me. Creepy thing, watching a griffin do that.
Our eyes met and hers widened ever so slightly at the blood on my face. She looked an awful lot like a female version of Sykes, albeit much older. Grey had crept into the fur around her neck and cheeks. The pelt underneath had the look of that parchment they used in their spellbooks.
She slowly reached up and pulled her cigarette from her mouth, appraising me with an expression that was unnervingly calm for someone staring down a shotgun. Blowing a thin stream of smoke out of her nose, she gestured at me with the lit end. "Detective Hard Boiled. I've seen your face on the television lately. Freelance cop, working for an unknown benefactor," she mused. "I assume my guards are dead?"
Stepping back, I lowered my gun to her stomach and let my trigger drop. "I'm here to ask questions and - if I can - prevent any more death. Fauntleroy will just have a headache and Bernard...well, now I think of it he's probably going to have a headache too. I take it you’re Derida?"
She dipped her chin and peered over my shoulder at the rest of my group. Her interest settled on Edina and a ghost of a smile quirked her cheek.
“Is that little Edina I see back there?” she asked, nodding at my companions.
“Stepmother,” Edina said, coldly, running a claw over the two spellbooks dangling from her waist.
Derida rolled onto her belly and got up. Her flesh seemed to hang from her joints, though she still had the muscular frame of a creature who’d once been an athlete. “Lovely, my dear. You were such a soft little chick when you were young. So caring. So needy,” she chuckled, her beak clattering against her cigarette holder. “I doubted you’d have the stomach for this day, but a part of me wondered if there might come a time you’d be sane enough to hire yourself a competent assassin.”
I was starting to get worried, but the room was sound-proofed. Short of a guard just strolling in, we weren’t likely to be bothered. Why was she so calm? If I’m in the shower and someone rubs a shotgun against my crown, I feel the need to make a bit of a fuss.
“I’m not an assassin,” I grumbled. “I admit, I was expecting a bit more surprise and wing-flapping than this.”
“Oh? Not here to ‘do in’ the wicked old stepmother, then?” she chortled, trotting over to a rack of towels and taking one down, wiping a bit of steam off her forehead with it. “I am a believer in the calm path. A griffin in peril may only mitigate death by having their full faculties about them. That said, for this disrespect, I may make it a mission in life to crucify one of your friends here over the plateaus and see if I can drop you onto them from a few miles up before they die. It may take several attempts. My aim is not so good as it was when I was young.”
All of that came out in a voice like silk, completely devoid of any equine emotion. It was the voice of a she-tiger, distantly contemplating pouncing. I took a couple of careful steps back.
“Lady, we came to talk. Shooting you isn’t at the top of my list of priorities. Don’t put it there.”
Derida’s wispy laugh echoed around the gigantic bathroom, sending shivers up my back. She glanced at me over her shoulder as she patted moisture out of her pepper-salt mane. “Talk? You have a very strange method of conducting diplomacy, Detective. Particularly coming here with that blood on your muzzle and the amount of ordinance I see. I can believe my step-daughter would give her hemoglobin to see the judgement of the tribes laid against me, but I thought Grimble Shanks was more...conservative.”
I rubbed one eye with my hoof. “He was, until someone tried to kill him. I take it you were unaware?”
“Unaware someone might try to kill my nephew? Whosoever would dare try such a thing?” That reply positively oozed sarcasm. “He’s a thick-headed oaf playing at politics, who has survived on luck and brazen bully tactics. True, he has some skill with that lochaber axe, but in a world of guns, he is a dying breed. If someone has tried to kill him, it was only a prelude to the bloodshed that is coming...but it wasn’t I.”
“We’re aware of that, stepmother,” Edina growled, lifting the amulet around her neck on one claw. “I found my Blood at the crime-scene. You gain nothing from the Tokan being blamed for the death of a Hitlan Egg, but...with my Blood, it points to you. Even worse, you closed the Blood Bank! You are painting a target on our backs. Why would you do such a thing, knowing this?”
“As if I would just tell you, silly chick,” Derida strolled over to a set of lockers against the wall, unlocking them. “You and I have an account that needs settling, but that will wait for another day. Right now, you’ve come at a fairly opportune moment. I have information you need and you...you may provide me with a means to my ends.”
I hauled my trigger into my teeth. “Hey...funny business earns you bullets!”
Giving me a contemptuous look, the griffin matriarch reached into the locker and withdrew a folded, brocaded dress and a black fedora in a feminine style with a long red feather in the brim.
“Are you going to watch me dress, Detective?” she purred. “I may not consider your life to have terribly much value when weighed against my own, but I think there may still be a use for you. After all, it’s not every decade a High Justice comes along. You might save me considerable difficulty.”
I groaned and swung away, trying not to blush. “Swift, if this bird does anything stupid, blow her legs off.”
Swift glanced at the Hailstorm, then shrugged and assumed a generally ‘alert’ position. I waited a moment until Swift nodded, then turned back to Derida who was now wearing that gorgeous red number that stretched to her back ankles, brocaded in intricately woven dragons. The little black hat was perched above her head and managed to look a bit rakish, attractive, and daring all at the same time.
For a griffin of her age, she still managed to project the two most dangerous things a female can; sex and power.
“Come along then, ponies!” she said, cheerfully, starting for the door. “We shall have tea and discuss how useful you can be.”
Is this the part where you finally admit to yourself that you’re off balance? I thought.
“I’m going to say ‘no’,” I replied. “The last female who offered me tea and information did it as a prelude to magical chains and psychological torture.”
“Oh do be calm,” she replied with a dismissive wave as Swift’s gun followed her back and forth. “If I truly wanted you dead, Detective, my style is not to butcher you over tea. I’d simply wait until you slept one night, drain blood from you, then enchant your cardiovascular system. A few days screaming in agony as I raised the Ph level of your internal fluids would do. Incidentally, I did mean what I said about a debt to be paid for this indignity, but if you pay it with useful activity, I will consider us - how you ponies say - ’square’. Besides, I need to smoke something. My high is wearing off.”
Edina’s warning about her step-mother’s sanity came back to me: She’s not crazy.
Whoo-boy, that was starting to whittle at my confidence in my own sanity. We’d walked into her nest, put a gun on her, and here she was inviting us to crumpets or whatever the griffin equivalent might be.
She heaved an exaggerated sigh and stepped closer to the door. Swift bent her knees a little and I was hoping that, if it came to it, the Hailstorm wouldn’t do something embarrassing.
“Will it help if I remind you that you are currently our High Justice? Killing you would be in bad taste.”
I shook my head. “That’s comforting, but also not the point.”
“Point, Detective? We are not yet to making points. You are still in my embassy; A little fly in a web he doesn’t comprehend. To that end, since you are given to lay your justice against me, you need to know exactly what Grimble and Edina have put you up to.”
“Step-mother…” Edina growled, warningly.
“And...that does tell me that my dear step-daughter hasn’t told you! Oh lovely. That just won’t do!” Derida cackled.
I moved over and gently rested a hoof on Edina’s back. She was still glaring at her stepmother like she would dearly have loved to crack open one of those spellbooks and fry her from the inside out. Much as Derida was tempting me to let her, the mission was still looming large in my mind.
“I’m investigating criminal activity and trying to help a friend of mine. I need to know why you’ve closed the Blood Bank and what we can do to cool this situation off before it ends in lots of violence. You know the PACT won’t let you slaughter each other inside Detrot and I don’t want either war between you and the Hitlan or all of the griffins coming to find out what is happening here.”
Derida made a big show of tapping her chin, then she stepped between Taxi and Edina, casually brushing the two of them aside with a little fluff of her wings. “Then come along. I’ll make sure none of my soldiers disembowels any of your little friends.”
“What is wrong with having our conversation here?” I asked, suspiciously.
“You need what I am offering and I need a fresh cigarette. I negotiate poorly when sober. If you will not, then I ask...who will be the next High Justice when you are killed for neglecting your duties? That odd foal with the strange weapon? The mare with the scars? Or is it dear Edina who you love best of all?”
Taxi’s hackles must have been humming. Her back was arched like a cat and she seemed to be trying to draw in on herself as her ears swiveled in all directions, listening for a danger I couldn’t see, but could most definitely feel.
My driver is amazing at hiding her emotions when she wants to, but there are moments when she’s an open book. I gave her a quick questioning look and she shivered, jerking her head back towards her flanks. I knew how she felt. My own talent was giving me full body shakes.
I felt like there was some vicious beast breathing down my neck. It was a sensation like the first whiff of smoke of an approaching forest fire.
I swallowed my worries. It was like swallowing a brick covered in toothpaste with a side of orange juice.
Well, here I go again. One stupid Detective charging the walls. Into the breach and then...who knows? Maybe they’ll bury my gold watch with me, I thought.
“You know? I’ve changed my mind. Tea sounds lovely.”
“Then you have my word you and yours will live long enough to leave here today. Follow!”
****
Derida took a moment as we were passing the foyer to give Fauntleroy a solid kick in the ribs. The griffin guard didn’t so much as twitch, other than to slump onto his side.
Taxi came in behind her. “Kicking him won’t help. He should be up in twenty minutes, though. I used a pressure point trick I learned from a zebra monk.”
Derida gave her a frosty look, then landed another kick in Fauntleroy’s ribs “I suppose it is my fault. I should have employed mercenaries to guard my penthouse...Ah, well. I have ever been a sentimental hen. Shall we, then? I must let the guards know you’re here and then we’ll proceed in a more cordial fashion.”
I gave Edina a look for confirmation and she nodded. “We’re safe, at least, from being attacked...”
“How do I know that?”
“She...she gave her word. That means more to a griffin than being alive. If she was alive but broke her word, to every other tribe griffin, it would be like she was dead. It’s part of why no-one but his brother talks to Sykes. He left his family. They might still care...but he’s a nobody to them.”
I waved Derida on. “Alright. Swift, Taxi...go with her. I need to talk to Edina for a moment.”
Derida held out her leg for Swift who took a couple of steps forward and gently nudged her with the Hailstorm.
“Go first, please, ma’am.”
“Of course, dear,” Derida murmured, condescendingly. Opening the door, Swift motioned for Derida to move and Taxi gave her a big, fake smile, hauling down her cannon so it would sit in the crook of her leg, at the ready. They disappeared into the next room and I let out a breath.
“Alright, Edina...let’s hear it. How much danger are we in just now?”
Her wings flapped weakly at the air, then she tucked them in close to herself. “Something is...bad...here. Really, really bad.”
“You’re telling me…”
Edina’s white wings were quivering with inner tension as she held her spellbooks to her chest like they might protect her from the great unknowns facing us. “I don’t mean that. My stepmother inviting us to tea? Guaranteeing us our lives? Detective, do you remember when I said she never lies? I meant never. Not once in the whole time I’ve known her. If she says she didn’t try to kill Grimble Shanks, she didn’t. If she just said she’s not going to kill us right now, she means it. I don’t know what’s going on, but this isn’t what we thought.”
“You mean whatever is happening...isn’t some kind of power play?”
She shook her head. “I-I don’t think so. Step-mother...I know she doesn’t look like it, but she’s scared of something. All of this - all those threats - it’s all bluster. If she was inclined to kill us, we'd know. She only makes threats when she wants to keep an opponent off balance. It’s a basic negotiation tactic. Create a situation where your opponent believes you are being benevolent by not killing them, then ask them for whatever favor you need.”
“I take it that’s a griffin negotiation tactic?”
“I hear dragons use it, too…”
“That’s not a recommendation considering how your two species came out in the war. Still, I need to know what she meant when she said you ‘put me up’ to something.”
Edina - the ravening dominatrix I’d witnessed take down a half dozen thugs without stopping for breath - cringed.
“It’s...I may not have been entirely and completely thorough in my explanation of the duties of the High Justice, Detective. You are not just responsible for establishing the law. You’re...you’re also responsible for carrying it out.”
I let that sink in for a second, then slowly sat on the carpet.
“You...aren’t saying I’m supposed to arrest them or leave them in hoofcuffs outside the Castle with a note, are you?”
Edina gave her head a very slight shake. “The...the High Justice is charged with the blood of the Eggs that he might pay for the death of whoever has violated the law. His law. It is the price of peace.”
“Oh you’re friggin’ kidding me! So, what? The tribe either accepts my judgement and kills one of their own or I end up in ritual combat and have to do it? Is that the shape of things?”
“You needed the information!” she squeaked, holding up her claws in surrender. “Please, I didn’t know what we were going to find! You told me this was to be a pony matter. If this situation leads us to a pony, then the griffin justice doesn’t apply!”
“And if the information leads to your step-mother, then I’m going to end up with my intestines laying all over these expensive carpets!” I snarled. “So, what if I just leave now and take my people with me?”
Edina’s shut her eyes and clucked softly to herself. “Then your next of kin...or the closest friend we can find will become the High Justice.”
I paused to think who she might mean, then turned an about face and slammed my head against the wall. Leaning there, trying not to groan over the fresh pain in my skull, I asked, “You mean Sykes, don’t you?”
She nodded, morosely.
“Did Sykes know this? Or Grimble?”
She nodded. “Sykes is stupid, but if you die in the trial of combat...then he’s off the hook. The tribes will be at peace, at least, until we can find a solution to the Blood Bank problem or get to the negotiation table. I doubt he was thinking that far ahead when he brought up the possibility of naming you High Justice. Grimble knows his brother and he doesn’t want him to die. Sykes would have volunteered to be the Justice just to keep his family from killing each other, but...he has faith that you can find a solution. He believes in you.” She hesitated a moment then added, “I...I do too. I only remember bits and pieces of what happened at the school, but...you were amazing, Detective. You took us in against totally overwhelming odds and no-one died.”
I seethed at Edina as the cruel trap my griffin friends had laid at my hooves finally revealed its full shape.
“This is why they don’t name High Justices all that often, isn’t it? It’s a one way trip. They’re a silver bullet with great incentives to work quickly.”
She covered her face with one wing and said, very quietly, “Detective...I don’t think it’s my stepmother. I hate her, but I don’t want her dead. I wouldn’t have named you High Justice if I just thought we were coming up here to kill her.”
“And if it is?” I snapped.
“Then...then I’ll...I…” She shut her eyes and whispered, “If it’s my stepmother, you can name me Justice. I’ll finish it.”
Damn.
Damn, damn, damn.
Throwing her to the wolves was so tempting. Why couldn’t I have just let these griffins handle their own weird affairs? Why’d I have to stick my big, boozy nose in the middle of it?
I glanced at my cutie-mark and sighed. Destiny and I had an appointment with a bottle later.
“No, you’re not going to do that,” I grumbled. “I’ve got a decent chance of surviving a disembowelment if they can get my corpse plugged into the grid. You owe me all the alcohol in the universe if I survive, though. All of it. Past, present, and future. I’m going to need it to wash the taste of my dead partner’s smugness out of my mouth if I die again...”
Leaving Edina with a deeply confused expression and what were probably some serious worries about her decision to trust me, I turned on my heel, shoved the door open and marched into the tea room.
****
“Two sugars?” Derida asked. Swift nodded, holding out her tea-cup.
The tea room was more of an indoor garden, reminding me of something I’d seen in old film reels about Neighsia and the eastern continents. One entire wall was glass, letting in the few shreds of sunlight that managed to clear the surrounding skyscrapers. An actual, honest to goodness cherry tree grew out of a patch of soil that seemed to have been dug into the floor at the edge of the carpet, leaving a meter or two of lovely green grass as it arched over a tiny red hut. A few chairs sat around a table set for five.
Piled on a heap of pillows against one wall a group of lazily sprawling griffins, most of them varying shades of white, were cuddling drunkenly with one another. About half of them were asleep and the rest had the dilated pupils and vacant expressions of heavy drug use.
The only one who seemed even remotely awake was an older griffin dressed similarly to Grimble Shanks. He looked much like a Hitlan, where he wasn’t grey. The lochaber - Derida had called it that, hadn’t she? - strapped across his back seemed to weigh on him badly and his feathers were a bit thready. He wore a pair of silver spectacles perched on his beak. Despite the overpowering miasma filling the room, he was trying to keep his head up and look at least vaguely alert. Still, his dull gaze met mine for less than a second before he went back to staring into space without so much as a chirp of interest.
I took one breath and felt a wave of dizziness wash over me. Whatever these griffins were smoking, it was some righteous stuff.
Shaking my head to clear it, I tried to hold my breath as I made my way over to Derida and my companions, stepping over a tufted tail that lay across the grass. Derida forwent the chairs in favor of just sitting at the short table, while Taxi and Swift were quietly enjoying their tea. Swift looked more than a bit woozy, though Taxi had a dreamy smile and cigarette poking out of the side of her muzzle.
“Sweets! What on Equis are you doing?” I snapped, trying to sound angry or irritated or something. I don’t know how it came off. That smoke was pretty thick.
Taxi’s eyes took a moment to focus on me. She drew a long pull from the Zap, then let it out with a pleased moan. “Me, Hardy? I’m getting high.”
“I see that. Why are you getting high?”
She gave me a quirked eyebrow, as though the answer were so obvious any further elaboration was pointless.
“I...um...I tried to stop her, Sir,” Swift mumbled, clutching her empty tea-cup to her chest. My partner’s wings were sagging onto the wooden floor and she was nodding, her eyelids at half mast.
Rubbing my forehead, I threw my hooves in the air and trotted over to the table, snatching a spare chair and pulling it up.
“So, this is it then? Your master plan is to get my driver too stoned to leave so I’m trapped here for the next month?” I asked, forcing myself not to smile. Why did I want to smile? I had no reason to smile. A hysterical giggle kept creeping up the back of my throat, though. Sweets was high. I could feel myself quickly succumbing. Swift looked about to pass out.
Damn, it felt good after the mess that my life had been lately.
I didn’t even hear Edina moving behind me until she stepped onto the short platform the tea-hut sat on and dragged her claws over the trunk of the cherry tree.
“Step-mother, I would like to have this discussion in a private manner. Must we indulge your bizarre affinity for Equestrian narcotics right now?”
Derida glanced at her semi-conscious party and the guard sitting beside them.
“I suppose you’re right, child,” she murmured, then raised her voice. “All of you! I need the space!”
Most of the gathered party popped awake in an instant, shaking their more sedate friends and rolling them to their paws. A few of them were lucid enough to give us curious glances, but they didn’t argue with their leader. Gathering what few items they had with them, including a collection of bongs that would’ve qualified as high art in some of the better museums in Detrot, the party of griffins filed out of the room.
“Andre, you too,” Derida added as she realized the old guard hadn’t moved. He frowned at her, then slowly got up.
“Moi Lady, moi tribe-lord charged me wi’ ye wellbein’. Oi don’t leave ye soide…”
Derida tsked and flicked a claw at him. “Except when you’re too blazed to notice I’ve been laying in the jacuzzi for the last two hours. Go on, Andre. Nip down to the bar and join Bernard and that Hitlan fool.”
The guard’s beak fell open and he seemed like he wanted to argue.
His eyes were full of a kind of sadness or maybe emptiness. It might have been the drug or it might have been my own state of exhaustion, but I felt as though time had stopped for just a few seconds so I could look at the old bird from all sides, peering deep into a sacred history.
Andre the griffin. His visible scars were extensive. A missing claw. A left eye replaced with a glass one that didn’t quite line up. The tip of his tail.
His other scars - the ones that matter - were ugly, deep, and above all, ancient. He’d seen his time come and go, leaving him holding a quickly dying torch in the encroaching twilight of his life.
He and I shared a look. It felt like it lasted an eternity. Lowering his head, he padded towards the door, stopping to look back at Derida.
“Moi Lady...yer mother would be sad,” he muttered.
Derida’s expression didn’t change, but she quietly pulled her cigarette out of her mouth and laid it in an ashtray beside her tea.
“Andre...my mother is dead,” she said, in a tone that had me thinking of glaciers and blizzards. “She died poor and Hitlan. I am rich, alive, and Tokan. You are old and will soon be dead. Go drink and enjoy my richness. It fills your belly more often than honor and obligation.”
He bowed and left, shutting the door with his tail. The moment passed.
“You must pardon my bodyguard,” Derida said, apologetically. There wasn’t much sincerity behind it. “He’s an old family friend who lived a long life and wishes to remind me of where I come from, whereas I would be all too pleased to see those fools across the hallway in a dragon’s belly.”
“Step-mother, they are our kin,” Edina growled.
“Believe me, child, I am reminded of that every time I look in the mirror,” she replied, running a claw through the brown fur on her cheeks. “Still, as we hold an inordinate amount of their debt, it would be bad for business to let them all die. That brings me to the four of you. Now that we are alone, you wish to know what has happened to the Blood Bank.”
Reaching over, I gently took Taxi’s cigarette from her muzzle with the edge of one horseshoe, lifting it to my mouth and taking a nice, long drag. I had the brief sensation that I could see the smoke rushing down my throat into my lungs, filling me with electricity and light.
“Sir, are you sure that’s a good...um...a good...uh...” Swift trailed off, staring into her tea-cup. I noticed it seemed to have a golden picture of Celestia’s cutie-mark on the side. “This...this cup is...really pretty…”
“You ponies,” Derida chuckled as she watched my partner. “You make such magnificent chemicals and then make them all illegal. I will never understand.”
I chuckled as Taxi finally realized I’d taken her joint and gave me a pitiful kitten look. I passed her the unlit end of the cigarette and she puffed away at it, merrily.
“It’s the damage from ponies getting repeatedly struck by lightning if they smoke it outside. Either way, the Blood Bank. You were just revealing your nefarious plan, I believe,” I said, grinning dreamily at her.
Edina gave me a worried sidelong glance and I replied with the subtlest wink a pony who is quickly getting higher than a pegasus with a helium addiction can manage.
Taxi offered Derida the joint and she took it, inhaling with a sigh of pleasure.
“Ah...yes. Nefarious plans. Mmm...I really wish I had one. I used to be quite good at them,” she murmured, twirling her cigarette between two claws. “The Blood Bank. You know, my ancestors once ate your meat. Pegasi. Unicorns. Earth ponies. Now we grovel at your door, begging you to save our eggs from dragons who once feared our lands. We cling to ancient, ridiculous traditions like...slaughtering one another as an economic system, and all the while, those who were once our prey grow strong. Stronger day by day.”
“Our traditions remind us who we are,” Edina insisted, still clutching her new spellbooks in both claws. “They give us our power.”
“Our traditions are killing us, stepdaughter,” Derida answered. “Those fools on the tribe counsel gave control of the entire economic system to one tribe. Do you know what your father did when he asked the pony mayor if we could hide ourselves away here until the dragons have gone?”
“I...I wasn’t there…”
“He bowed his head, girl,” her stepmother snarled.
Edina’s eyes very nearly popped out of her head.
“He...he didn’t! Father would never-”
“You know I do not lie, child!” Derida snapped, tabbing the ash off the end of her joint. “Your father, your sire...bowed his head to a pony. Tradition? Pah! Our tribe would be better off leveraging our powers to join the Equestrians as partners, living in their cities as their secret gods, than squatting in those plateaus like animals. Our financial skills could give us dominion once again! We have the knowledge of hundreds of years of banking warfare...and yet...our traditions have lead us here...to a place where we bow.”
Edina shrank down in her seat, shamefacedly covering her face with one wing.
I don’t know if the quiet that followed seemed longer because I was stoned, or because it was just that uncomfortable.
I rubbed my eyes against the back of my knee, trying to get my head back together.
“I get the whole ‘wants to take over Equestria’ thing,” I said. Derida gave me a level stare and I quickly added, “No, really, I do. You’re one in a list. Plenty of people would like to own their fellow beings. It’s not a new idea. Right now, we’re up to our ears in death and I’m told you might be one of the few honest persons in this city. I’ve got a friend facing a fairly gruesome death and violence creeping up on us at the speed of griffin wings. I need to know...why’d you shut the Blood Bank? Why now? Why here?”
Derida opened one wing and began casually straightening feathers with her beak. Between plucking out a couple of loose ones, she answered, “I didn’t.”
My brain - which was absorbing more than its share of chemicals - ground to a greasy halt. The thing about Zap is that, while it produces a lovely euphoria and a sense of peace, it does tend to make your mind a bit like having a fat sheepdog across your lap. You might have to go to the bathroom and get the mail, but it just won’t move. Knowing that, I can be forgiven for my response.
“Buh...wha...uh...duh?”
“Hmmm? That wasn’t a question, Detective.”
“Y-yes, you did!” I stammered.
Derida shook her head and tapped her talons on the table, impatiently. “I’m afraid I didn’t. My people believe I did. I’ve shut the ledgers, which would effectively close the Blood Bank, but my actions were not responsible for that closure, or rather, not the reason.”
My driver sat forward, suddenly, and her eyes lit up with interest. She looked far more alert than someone who’d just smoked the same crap that was coursing around my system.
“Wait a second...you let them believe?” she asked. “That means you’re the only one who knows the real reason, so far, right?”
Derida tilted her head to one side. “You are an interesting little mare. As you say, to date, I believe I have managed to keep the actual situation quiet. It is far worse than a simple book of debits being closed to the public. If my Tokan knew the true reasons, it would demoralize them before we could assert any control over the situation.”
Edina’s beak clicked a few times as she gave her stepmother a calculating look. “Stepmother...are you saying that something has happened to the Asset Pool?”
I reached out to stop her so I could get an explanation. “Pardon, Asset Pool?”
She bit the edge of her beak, then stood in her chair. “It’s...what the Blood Bank owns which supports our system of exchange. I suppose it is impossible to describe in a way that would make simple sense to a pony-”
“I’m getting seriously tired of hearing that,” I grunted, poking her in the side. “Use short words.”
“It would be easiest to demonstrate,” she replied, picking up one of the spoons and gently scraping the flesh off of the scab on the back of her wrist. Holding her foreleg over the table, she let a few droplets of blood splash onto the surface.
“You Tokan sure like b-bleeding everywhere…” Swift muttered. The Hailstorm’s barrels twitched weakly and I wondered if it was having some strange response to all the Zap in the room. “It smells like cheese and...and sky…”
Pulling off my hat, I reached over and put it over my partner’s face. She just clutched her cup a little closer.
Edina took a deep breath, then swirled her claws over the tiny pool of blood, twirling them in intricate patterns. Derida chuckled, slurping her tea as her step-daughter went through the motions again.
I leaned over the blood and peered at it. It was very persistently just sitting there.
“Is something supposed to happen?” I asked.
Edina frowned and began the process once again, this time with great sweeping gestures, one thumb-claw to another, both palms against each other, a flourish on the sweep of a leg and so on. Derida sipped her tea and waited, patiently, until her stepdaughter was done.
It looked like Edina was about to go into a third round of leg waving, so I caught her talons with my hooves. “Alright, I get it...what’s meant to actually go on here?”
“M-maybe it’s just been too long since I accessed the Asset Pool. Maybe I forgot a step!” Edina said, with a hint of panic in her voice.
“Step daughter, we both know you are possessed of a sharp mind when it isn’t clouded by your sad condition. Don’t act like a wishful idiot.”
Edina collapsed in her chair, staring at the blood on the table. “But...but how? The Asset Pool is magical! It’s not a stupid telephone! It can’t just...just fail to connect!”
Derida shrugged and stirred her tea with a spoon. “You see my dilemma, then. I’ve sent messengers to see your father. I sent them days ago, when the problem first manifested.”
“Days...it’s been days?!” Edina screeched, leaping up so fast her chair overbalanced, sending her end over end. She flopped against the side of the little red hut, her backside in the air and her tail dangling in her eyes.
I held up both hooves. “Alright, lets...lets just stop a minute. Your High Justice is...very...high and needs some clarifications. What is the Asset Pool?”
Edina righted herself and picked up her chair. “It’s...well, I can tell you what it looks like from the outside. It’s a pool of blood sitting in a cavern somewhere in the plateaus. When I came of age, our tribe’s priestess took me into a dream and I saw what it actually is. It’s an ocean. An ocean of blood, under a dark red sky.”
Derida pushed one of her snack cakes around on her plate and nodded. “A dramatic description, but accurate. Every griffin who has ever died in anger contributed their blood to the Asset Pool. When the first of the Tokan line created the Blood Bank, he needed a place to store the Blood. A place it would not rot and could be accessed with relative ease by those of his family.”
“So...what is it?” Taxi asked, chewing on the inside of her cheek.
“Do you know, that is often not the first question that gets asked?” the old hen chuckled. “Most would ask ‘Why?’ rather than ‘what?’. The sad truth is that our progenitor didn’t see fit to tell us. He was, after all, the first blood mage and even his name is lost to time. It could be another dimension. A pocket universe. I suppose the most horrific possibility is that it is a place that exists in our world somewhere.”
“Those of the Tokan bloodline or those who’ve performed the rituals of inclusion can access the Asset Pool. To date, that is only members of my family,” Edina added. “The Pool is also the place blood mages draw our power from. Speaking of that...” Glancing down at her spellbook, she lifted it onto the table and thumbed it open. Pressing her claw against the first page, she shut her eyes and whispered something I didn’t quite catch. It sounded like a language composed of the sounds ostrich eggs make when crushed under steamrollers. Even Taxi would have had trouble with those vocal gymnastics.
I settled into my chair and waited. After a few minutes, Edina opened her eyes and stared down at the book.
“N-nothing. I can’t feel the Pool at all! Our magics are gone!”
Derida nodded. “To date, I have not told our guards of the situation. Blessedly, they’ve had no call to attempt to use their spells. However, if the Hitlan attack us...it will be the end of our tribe.”
“And what are you doing about this, stepmother?!” Edina hissed. “Getting high and lounging by the pool?!”
The aging hen swirled a claw in the air beside herself. “Yes. I’ve sent messengers to your father. None have returned and I’ve had no response. I’ve attempted spellwork to contact the plateaus. I’ve sent telegraph messages, telephone calls, and even paid one of those silly unicorn delivery services an exorbitant amount of Equestrian money to teleport the letter there. I’ve received no response. Our tribe is, to all intents and purposes, cut off. We’ve no magic. The monster hunters will slaughter us. If we try to run, the Hitlan will chase us. We cannot leave our eggs in the mutual creche, but taking them will slow us down. We’ve many fewer warriors than the Hitlan, so we cannot fight. If we surrender, it will not save us from the bloodshed that will come when the plateaus are safe again, and if the Hitlan discover our bluff, they will bleed you...or perhaps me...dry, present our blood to the counsel of tribes, and our line will be no more. So...yes...I am getting high and lounging by the pool.”
I think a part of me wanted to hyperventilate, but that would have harshed my buzz really badly. Besides, Edina was breathing hard enough for both of us.
“I...I think I need some more of whatever this stuff we’ve been smoking is…” I muttered. Derida obligingly cracked open her cigarette case and passed me a fresh joint, then held the lighter for me. Sweet skies of Celestia, it was even better freshly lit. Edina even surrendered and joined in the festivities.
The silence was sort of pressing on me, but then, that could have been the weight of emotional trauma. It’s hard to tell on Zap.
After about twenty minutes, a griffin in a tux came in with a little tray covered in more snack cakes. After that, the silence was no longer quite so pressing. I mostly just sat there with my partner, my driver, a little griffin waiting to go insane again, and a griffin who might or might not be my nemesis eating as many of the sweets as I could stuff my stomach with.
They were delicious.
****
“So...what do we do then?” Taxi asked about the time I started to feel sane enough to hold a conversation. It’d been an hour or two. At some point, though I couldn’t remember exactly when, I’d gotten up and settled with my back against the cherry tree.
Edina glanced up from the grass where she lay, bonelessly relaxed, stroking Swift’s feathers. Now that we were all pleasantly off our faces, the two of them seemed to have given up any sense of public decorum and were engaged in a bit of mutual preening. Edina had cried for a bit there, but Zap makes it tough to think about things that’re bothering you. Funnily enough, her reaction hadn’t been anything like so bad as Swift’s. My partner was still holding that damn tea-cup.
“Well...this Asset Pool thing. Tell me, you keep all the blood that is deposited in it or something?” I asked as my partner tucked her wings in against herself, blushing profusely.
“Eh...um...Y-yes,” Edina murmured, blinking repeatedly to try to get her brain working. “Excuse me. Phew. Er...right. Blood. We can extract particular bloods and use spells to prove their ownership. It’s how we make sure if someone extracts blood for a transaction or decides to kill someone that they’ve paid properly.”
“So, in theory, the blood still exists somewhere. What’s happened is probably something has messed with whatever magic you use to get in touch with it.”
Derida, who was on her eighth or ninth cup of tea and maybe her twentieth snack cake, looked a bit thoughtful. “I’m afraid we have no way of verifying that, dahling. Our magic is almost entirely that of blood. I know of nothing that could cause such interference, but then, I am a poor mage. My skills are in financial wizardry, less the arcane arts, and my husband didn’t see fit to send our battle mages along with us.”
My mind, now that it was finally starting to work, was chugging along with only occasional backfires. “I’ve got a mage of my own. It so happens he’s doing some research for us right now, but we might be able to just restore the Blood Bank to full functionality and this will all be an enormously embarrassing story to tell on late nights when the grog or whatever it is you people drink is running low.”
“Detective, I do have my own contacts. A debtor of mine in the Academy couldn’t identify the problem-”
I pursed my lips and grinned. “Trust me, my friend specializes in everything from less than legal to spectacularly, shockingly illegal. He’s rewired a top-of-the-line war-era security system with a pair of pliers and no voltage tester. If anyone can do it, he can. I just need a promise from you...to reopen the books and swallow whatever embarrassment comes of this without having me or anyone I know and love murdered.”
The old hen’s gave me a calculating look, then the subtlest of shrugs. “Do this, and I will consider you absolved of your duties as High Justice. Your job was to find the cause. If the cause is magical failure, it will not require a debt of blood be extracted by the Blood Bank. You will be in good keeping and will earn yourself a positive credit rating.”
Edina leaned over and laid her stepmother’s spellbook on the table, giving it a push across to her. “She means you’ll be able to call on the Tokan in the future if you need us.”
“Knowing Grimble, he won’t wish to be outdone,” Derida added. “You fix this and your payment will be the blood on your face. The blood of two Eggs. It is not inconsiderable.”
“Well, I’ll keep that in mind,” I replied, crawling over onto all fours. I stood there wobbling back and forth for a minute. The drug was still playing havoc with my balance, but it wasn’t near so bad as it had been. “Swift, stop chewing on Taxi’s tail. Taxi, stop eating the grass. We need to go.”
****
Derida led us to the door of her suite. Her entourage was nowhere to be seen. Fauntleroy was just starting to stir, but had yet to open his eyes.
“Detective, the next time you would like to meet with us...do just send a note?” Derida purred.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” I answered, pulling my coat up. The Zap was largely out of my immediate system, though I was still feeling a tad slow. It wasn’t unpleasant, however, and my morale seemed to have climbed a few notches in the wasted hours.
“Oh! One last thing,” Derida said and I paused with one hoof on the door.
Her claw snapped out with speed that belied her aging appearance. I felt a tug and something hot spilled down the side of my face. Reaching up, I touched my ear. Something felt very off there. Did my ear always have that notch in it?
Staring stupidly down at my hoof, I wondered for a minute how the blood got there, then pain blossomed on my ear.
“Ow, son of a wretched stinking bird!” I snarled, clutching at my split ear. “What’d you do that for?!”
“Stepmother!” Edina barked, resting one claw on her new sword.
Derida ignored her and gave me a chilly smile, licking my blood off the tip of her talon. “Payment for the indignity, trespass, and to make absolutely certain you are working for us. If I get my magics back and find out you’ve betrayed the griffin tribes, I’ll personally cast the spell that desiccates your kidneys. Are we entirely clear?”
Snatching a kerchief out of my pocket, I held it to my ear. “Fine, yes, I understand. Death threats and so on. I swear, this is the last time I let my cutie-mark drag me into the middle of someone else’s political problems. Are we done here?”
Pulling her cigarette case out of the neck of her dress, she flicked a joint at me. I caught it in my teeth.
“One for the road. Something tells me you’ll need it.”
Spitting the cigarette into my hoof, I pocketed it. “Something tells me you’re right.”
****
Sykes was waiting for us beside the elevator, looking forlorn and hung over. While ‘forlorn’ and ‘hung over’ tend to go hoof-in-hoof, my friend looked like he’d spent an hour in a boxing ring with a dragon. He had bags under his eyes and his head hung low as he lay there, staring at the carpet like a chick who’d lost his puppy.
“Hardy! Edina!” he gasped, rising to his feet and taking a couple of steps closer. “Moi heavens, Oi’d half convinced mese’f ye step mother did ye in! What took ye so long? Oi been out of me head!”
“No love for me, Sykes?” Taxi giggled, staggering a little and catching herself on the wall. Sykes sniffed at the air, then his thick, brown eyebrows drew together.
“Are...the lot of ye...are the lot of ye blitzed, then?!”
I shook my head. “I’m fine now, but believe me, when I tell you what’s actually going on in there you’re going to want to be stoned, too.” I turned to Swift. “Kid, as soon as we’re downstairs, I need you to call Limerence and get him back to the Nest. We’ve got a new research priority and we need him.”
“Yes...um...!” Swift looked briefly puzzled, then attempted a salute with the wrong hoof, smacking herself in the brow ridge so hard I cringed “Uh...Sir! That’s it! Sir!”
“What about moi kin?” Sykes asked. “Is...is Derida…”
“She’s alive and well. How long that might be is dependent entirely on how well we managed to solve her problem, which will also probably play into how long we’re alive and well. By the way-” Rearing, I swung around and hit Sykes with one rear hoof right between the eyes. He yelped and stumbled, flopping over his back legs into an undignified heap. Swift squeaked, fearfully, but I paid her no mind as I marched over to him and planted one hoof in his side, flipping him onto his back.
My friend stared up at my, clutching his head in both talons. “Oi! What’d Oi do!?”
“You didn’t tell me the High Justice was paid in blood!” I snapped, prodding him in the chest. His yellow eyes darted to one side, guiltily. “Now I’m stuck figuring this mess out, because if I don’t, it’ll be your head on the chopping block next! I don’t know if you were thinking when you called me down here to handle this, but you owed me that punch and if you ever pull something like this again, I swear I will make a rug out of you!”
Reaching down, I grabbed his suit and pulled him upright, then began smoothing out the wrinkles.
“Oi, me...Oi roightly deserved that Oi guess…” he muttered, rubbing the quickly growing knot on his forehead. “Oi didn’t think ye’d actually do it, much less me brudder and Edina…”
“Yeah, well, lots of people have been underestimating me lately,” I grumbled. “If I manage to fix this situation, you will also owe me at least four rounds of drinks.”
Poking the button on the elevator, I gestured for everyone to get in. Swift took two attempts and she was still in a highly questionable state of sobriety, although Taxi seemed mostly recovered.
Stepping in behind them, I noticed the elevator pony was gone. Must have been on break or something. Huh.
I stabbed the button for the lobby and the doors slid closed on the opulent penthouse suites, leaving the Tokan and the Hitlan to their mutual glaring at one another over no-pony’s land.
Edina was nervously stroking her sword and spell-book. “Detective, do you honestly believe your friend might actually manage to fix the Asset Pool?”
“Being as I’ve no idea what is wrong with it, I can’t say,” I replied, resting my head against the wall. Taxi offered me an extra snack cake she’d snatched from the table and I bit into it half-heartedly. “I mostly said that to buy us some time. Maybe one of the messengers will get through to the plateaus and come back with some orders or at least some instructions. I don’t know this. Cutting off the Highlands communication is warfare tactics, not the typical fare of a simple band of roving juvenile dragons.”
“Sir, are we going to actually have to go out to the Highlands?” Swift asked, holding something against her chest with one leg. I peered at her curiously.
“Kid... did you take that tea-cup?”
My partner blushed, glancing down at the ornate cup in the crook of her leg. “I...um...it’s really...really pretty…”
I couldn’t help but crack a little smile. “I swear, kid, you’re gonna be the death of me. Anytway, no, I don’t think we’re heading to the Highlands. Not if I can help it. I’m hoping we can figure out what is going on from here. Leaving the city is the last thing I want to do right now,” I muttered.
Edina tilted her head to one side as though listening to something. “I...am afraid I will need more Beam soon. The cat and the bird are getting louder.”
Sykes nodded. “Oi need moi own little fix, says Oi. Oi could use a drink.”
I raised my head and was about to reply, when the lights went out. In the absolute darkness of the unlit box, a deafening roar seemed to come from everywhere, followed by shrill screams.
The car lurched, followed closely by my stomach, then with a screech that nearly deafened me, I felt myself go very light.
The elevator began to fall.
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It's aliiiiiiiiiiiiiiiivvvvvvvvvvvveeeeeee!
mwuahahahahahahahahahhahahahahahahahhahahahahaahahhahahahhaha!
been a bit since the last update. read it quite quick..... gryphons are complicated.
also whoever cut that elevator line did not take something into account. three fifths of the occupants of that elevator can fly. and one if more than large enough to carry the only two non fliers.
outcome for the cliffhanger is a bit predictable but it is still a good cliffhanger. they fortunately have the means to survive this peril....... would be a bit odd if they didn't though. so its probably best that way. be like batman having shark repellant on hand and not using it when a shark attacks.
random references randomly.
either, good chapter. and it is hard to determine who attacked and why here.
In an odd question, is hardy actually somewhat stuck as the high justice being that he is already dead in a technical way of things?
6019382 Actually, flying in a falling elevator wouldn't save them. It's an enclosed space. Even if they could get lift off, they'd either hit the ceiling or die when the car hit the bottom floor.
-Chessie
6019572 meant getting through the top of the elevator. elevators have opening in the top, likely for maintenance. they would at least be able to put in a few good flaps the their momentum and speed and be able to grab onto something, especially the likes of swift and edina.
or considering how big sykes is, making a hole in the roof to begin with. the flight is the necessary part of it all as it is the only way to reduce the fall momentum.
Act 2, Chapter 49:"Doom Doom Da Doomie Doom"-
ak2.polyvoreimg.com/cgi/img-thing/size/l/tid/4580762.jpg
The big ass magic storm possibly? Naw, that would be too strait forward.
Sooo... Swift doesn't know what green and red bars mean. And there is only one system I know of that use green and red bars...
I'm gonna sit here hoping for some V.A.T.S action soon.
6019572 ....... put it simply. they exit the falling elevator from the top into the elevator shaft. this normalyl would never work but three of them can fly and sykes is big enough to lift the ones that can't.
admitably sykes would have to deal with his too big wingspan and having two passengers. edina and swift would be okay though.
I humbly thank you for another chapter in the hoof bitingly amazing adventures of Det. Hard boiled. Would you be willing to let this be read/narrated like is being done with the fallout equestria collections? I cant not stand to see this amazing piece of work not being voiced like the classic noir detective radio plays it reminds me of.
With this chapter my love of Hardy, Swift, Taxi, Edina and all the characters in this series have grown 10 sizes. A great twist of the situation, a new dilemma for the team to face, the return of our favorite Archivist, and of course the requisite cliff-hanger! :D I wait with baited breath for the next chapter. Happy writing and may Hardy watch over us all!
Dat Cliffhanger. anyway this is an interesting chapter. and Im slowly starting to think that PACT may be the main adversaries or atleast a key piece of the puzzle. Their pylons are magical and all around the city, Using them They may be interfering with the blood magic of the gryphons and preventing any messages from getting out.
Okay, seriously who didn't see the falling elevator coming. It was pretty obvious as soon as there was no elevator attendant. This is quite the perilous situation though. Although three of them can fly, getting out of the top of the elevator in time is rather unlikely, they'd have maybe 5-7 seconds depending on the hight of the building and how far down they already were. I could see one or two of the fliers getting out but the rest are screwed. Of course there is that story of the elevator attendant that survived quite a large plummet in an elevator car in the Empire State Building, so maybe they'll be okay. Also this,
Was so cute! that really made my day.
Oh and Swift with the tea cup, she's so adorable!
6019766 It would be brilliant if someone did, to be honest.
-Chessie
As always, the story unfolds…
6020003 I suppose I did telegraph the falling elevator just a little...
-Chessie
6020081 You've been reading forever. Do you mind if I ask why your feels are on the recent chapters? I don't want things to drag or to get dull. I try to keep it interesting from chapter to chapter. This one was REALLY hard to get right and involved multiple revisions.
-Chessie
Do you know how hard it is to make an elevator fall?
http://science.howstuffworks.com/science-vs-myth/everyday-myths/question730.htm
I sense Limerence making a return in time to save our beloved detective from an untimely end in the form of some admirable levitation.
Always glad to see the story update; not sure how I missed this crossing my feed.
6010226 I accidentally read spoilers...
So would you mind if I made a Ponylude sort of thing for this series?
6019572 Not to mention the wingspan of three fliers is more than what would probably be a very small space could accomodate. Someone really wants that war it seems.
- Angel of Team Angelfang
6020238 You know, I actually do know all of this? There's just something embedded in the human mind that's terrified of being in an enclosed, dropping box.
-Chessie
6020284 I always say, Starlight Over Detrot is open for any fan creations you might want to make. You can use the world, or the characters, or anything at all. I love getting stuff other people have done, no matter what it might be. I've got no quality standards and I'll probably post it to the blog if nothing else.
-Chessie
6020286 i am talking about them escaping the elevator from the top into the elevator shaft. the wings are needed cause otherwise that would not keep them from falling.
"Why must you play with the heart strings and dangle us from a cliff hanger" says the little voice. Though I don't listen to it because its far to melodramatic. Was a good update and still manages to catch me off guard. Totally thought there would be a lot more bullets and way fewer narcotics, it was definitely good and rather hilarious. Thank you again.
I notice that Derida gave her word that Hardy et al would "live long enough to leave here today", not just that she wouldn't attack them. I wonder if that means she's obligated to make sure they survive this? Or maybe 'here' just meant her suite, not the whole Moonwalk.
Hehe poor Swift, atleast she got her teacup. Or is it going to break in the next chapter? :(
It annoys me a surprising amount that the two versions of the chapter title (the one typed in the fic and the one on the site) don't match.
Successfully killing the whole elevator party would be quite a coup for whoever's behind it. Killing the High Justice, an Egg, a rookie DPD cop, two senior DPD detectives, and Taxi would probably cause the greatest intrahotel war the world has ever seen. On the other hoof, failing to kill them puts the biggest target on your head possible.
Plus, Swift's gun sees through walls. Have fun running from it. (Here's hoping for some Person of Interest "God Mode"-style badassery from Swift soon.
(2:29-4:22)
Or maybe just let Edina lose it for a bit.)
...That teacup is suspicious...
Goooodddaaaaaaaaaamniiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii...
Now this is really interesting. Deeper and deeper the rabbit hole goes, and though you improvise it is stacked like by a master architect.
6022424 Yeah, sorry about that. Fixed.
-Chessie
6020064 Then my good pony I Nero Zolfte. Shall endevor to atleast make ONE youtube video of my narration of your tale. Hard Boiled NEEDS a voice. I hope to make him sound as good as all the other narrators give there works. I give for warning I am just one lone pony. So I wont be doing mares justice with my Voice attempts. But I think I can give the mane two decent inflections. I see Taxi as more a 'Jersey' Voice. And swift being highly staunch and military- But with a mild texan twang. Hard boiled I see having that classic noir style. Mildly mobsterish- from his time dealing with the criminal element, like using "See" occasionally to finish questions rather then hanging on the inflection. A touch nasel but clearly gritted and stiff. As hard as the bricks that make Detrot stand.
!
k was Mr. Carry Muleis' researching that required developing a equine-dissolving enzyme?
What the dilly dallying f
Chemical warfare?
Cupcakes?
Weapons of ass destruction?
(I REGRET NOTHING!)
An elderly rodeo clown by the name of T. Hooves was barred from volunteering in Beam research after he reportedly was single-hoofedly responsible for a 27 tonne spill of concentrated Beam extract.
And if she does anything really stupid, then drumsticks are back on the menu...
Sounds par for the course: it is basic griffon revenge after all...
That is the problem; she could also be very literal and economical with the truth. She very well may not have tried to kill poor Grimble, she may have bloody well intended to. Likewise, as 6021544, pointed out, her guarantee of safety can be intrepreted in a slew of creative ways:
- She's not going to kill us right now: Fauntleroy and Bernard will be more than happy to pick up the slack.
- She’s not going to kill us right now: Maiming, paralysis, crucifixion, and soul-draining into a bedpan are all still on the menu.
- She’s not going to kill us right now: 15 minutes after teatime will do just fine.
Something just came to mind: all this talk regarding Griffon eggs and tribal Eggs and I have to wonder is Rachel's Egg a political documentary, or a real-time war correspondence, or a trashy soap-opera done in staggeringly poor taste like a Big Brother-esque gameshow featuring genderbent versions of Blaire, Obama, and Putin titled Crimean Cribs?
6022545
6020003
After all that has happened thus far, I would not be surprised if that teacup has some secret spell put upon it.
6022897
Oh man, trashy griffin soap operas would be the best.
6022999
"Ochre, I love you!"
"I know, Brianne, but our love... It's forbidden!"
"We may be from warring tribes, but we can still run away!"
"No, Brianne, it is because... I AM YOUR BROTHER!"
[Audience gasps and caws in surprise]
"I DON'T CARE OCHRE! TAKE ME, TAKE ME FAR AWAY AND- wait what? That's impossible, my parents died when I was five, and you're ten years younger than me..."
I am almost tempted to toss up a "Smoke Weed Everyday" vid, but I won't.
The sheer level of political intrigue in this chapter had me re-reading things a few times just so I could have some clue as to what is happening. Very fun.
And finally... I do believe that the elevator pony is somehow involved in this, and that he is NOT and employee of the hotel.
6020225 Do you mean why or what?
I'm clinging to personal moments in that I can't keep track of the overall plot. Gotta trust you to handle reveals in such a way that it comes out right. It is never dull, I'm just very much in Hardy's horseshoes the whole time, with no idea what's to come.
I suspect the ending might work out similarly. Though an amazing mindblowing denoument could be in store, the way I've been reading this story I'll be satisfied with the right sort of personal moments around it. Ponies gotta pony and maybe they don't learn all that much, but a well timed hug covers a lot.
Remember to not try to orient the reader to every possible subplot at all times. We see only local plot and leave other stuff where we left it.
Hmmm, so every griffin that dies in anger goes into the pool, and the situation has been engineered to encourage a lot more of them to do just that.
Sounds like our conspiracy wants/needs a replacement for the giant battery that was the Church of the Lunar Passage.
6031209 Good idea! Wish I'd thought of it...
-Chessie
6023051 I did actually write Saucy with Lector in mind.
-Chessie
You'd think Hardy would learn...
Errant underscore detected.
You are magnificent bastards.
I need to drink more than Hardy after this installment.
And then they all died. The end.
EhehehehehehehahahahahaHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
*aherm*
But seriously.
Good chapter.
6044943 Please do! I love new readers and I love hearing their take on things as they progress through the old chapters. It really keeps me centered and motivated!
-Chessie
God dang elevator operators. Couldn't trust them in Catcher in the Rye can't trust them now.
6045301 Yeeeeah, those early chapters aren't brilliantly edited. Heck, they're not even brilliantly written. I was in the process of finding a voice and getting my head around this whole 'daily writing' thing.
-Chessie
6051360 Well...nobody actually HAS sex at any point. There's some joking about it, but we kept that from getting explicit.
-Chessie
6020542 Have you ever read Fallout: Equestria? Because you bypassed its length about five chapters ago.
6052748 Yes, I'm aware, and yes, I have read it...and yes, I'm...a little depressed to know that, honestly.
-Chessie