And Carry a Big Torch (3)
8
“What’s his favourite treat?” Fluttershy asked as she tried to find a part of Lockjaw she hadn’t patted yet. “Does he know any tricks? Is you a good boy? Is you? Is yooooou?”
“He eats…a lot?” Crystal squinted. Lockjaw’s smile was distorting like a cartoon dream fade in as Fluttershy rubbed his squished jowls so fast she almost burned off her hooves. “As for tricks, Medusa’ll probably be mad…”
Her expression brightened. “Lockjaw! Fetch!”
Lockjaw barked in delight and his antenna lit up the room. He became a seething outline of light and Krackle dots and winked out of existence almost instantly. Fluttershy had instinctively yanked her hooves away and was staring with traumatized outrage at the empty space.
“Where did he go.”
“It’s alright, it’s alright!” Crystal waved calming hooves. “He’s just playing fetch!”
“Oh.” Fluttershy rubbed her throat. She really shouldn’t get so testy, it was bad for the other person’s feelings and her vocal cords. “Um, fetch what?”
“Anything,” Crystal smirked with impish pride.
Lockjaw rematerialized. He had one of the royal gardens’ smaller trees in his mouth and the room was suddenly full of indignant turtledoves streaming from its branches.
One of them weaved its way out a window and through a crack in the fabric of a shrouded pavilion. It realised how many sets of regal eyes were looking nonplussed at it, chirruped apologetically and hightailed it outta there.
9
“…as I was saying,” Princess Celestia resumed, “Equestria will of course be glad to adjust our charts to take the Aqualusian /Wakandan trade route into consideration.”
“And Deviant Lemuria,” the Sub-Mariner said curtly. Aqualusia and the surface world had always had their tension, but then again the prince said almost everything curtly. “For your sailors’ sake.”
“They’ve been quiet recently but I second the sentiment,” the Panther Prince agreed. “Wakanda will be happy to contribute the location if Prince Namor has no objections?”
“Our maps are more accurate.” Namor hovered in place above the round marble table, scaled forelegs folded and motionless except for his flapping fins. “But thank you all the same.”
“Aren’t they extremely deep within the ocean’s trenches?” Celestia asked. “The warning is appreciated as are the gestures, but there is the matter of jurisdiction…”
“The moon falls across them as much as any part of the ocean,” Luna cut in, speaking to the group but looking at Namor. “As Princess of the Night I have the right to investigate and enforce. Though I would not do so without Aqualusia’s accent first. In fact, I would prefer to have Prince Namor’s aid and guidance in such a situation.”
Namor’s sullen needle of a mouth slid into a smile his perpetually frowning eyebrows automatically turned coquettish. Celestia and Magnate rolled their eyes in almost perfect sync.
“Forgive us,” Medusa said from next to Black Bolt as his horn flickered gently, “but are we to understand Wakanda is considering a larger vibranium export?”
“Not at present. We will of course continue to supply a small amount to specialised concerns, such as the Befrienders or Dr. Rivers research.”
“Defence concerns, I note,” Magnate said sharply.
“Defensive, not aggressive, yes.” The Panther turned to him, tone courteous as ever and mask impassive. Even with it off, talking to T’Challa could be like staring into a dark pool. Whatever your sentiments, his surface was calm and reflected them back at you.
“You must excuse me, Prince T’Challa,” Magnate rallied quietly. “This is coming so soon after our own agreement not to deal in such materials. I must be forgiven for noting a seeming…readiness to make an exception for Equestrian interests with which Genosha has a history.”
The Panther inclined his head. “Then I shall.”
“You.” All eyes turned to Luna, her expression hard.
“I beg your pardon, Princess?” Magnate asked calmly, but his cape rising slightly like regal hackles.
“The groups you describe have a history with you. Not Genoshia.” The shadows of the pavilion seemed to grow longer, Luna’s eyes brighter. “You tried to kill them.”
“Yeah, well,” the Thing cut in casually from where he was leaning against a column by Mr. Fantastic, “can’t blame a guy for tryin’, right?”
“Grim!” Sue hissed. Namor’s chest heaved with a haughty but impressed chuckle. He cleared his throat when Luna rounded on him.
Magnate and Celestia locked gazes until the Magneto Mage nodded irritably, magnanimously deciding to just ignore the last few seconds.
“Equestria thanks you for those contributions, Prince T’Challa,” Celestia sighed wearily, putting a gentle wing over Luna’s shoulder.
“It is Wakanda’s pleasure.” The Panther bowed slightly and turned to Medusa. “Queen Medusa, may I ask if the question was more than information gathering?”
“Perhaps,” Medusa said firmly, stopping Black Bolt mid smile and nod. “Our colonies are self sufficient but everyone at this table knows the value of planning ahead.”
“Then I shall broach the subject with my council. Perhaps you could talk to Shuri after we adjourn? Discuss any potential needs? If we can help Attilan at all…”
“Thank you,” Medusa smiled, nodding along with her husband.
“Aqualusia will be glad to make the same offer,” Namor supplied, uncrossing his forelegs to place a clenched hoof over his heart in a vow. “How is Triton by the way?”
“Quite well! We shall give him your regards.” Black Bolt glanced at her curiously then nodded vigorously when Medusa gave him a sharp look.
“I’m well aware why my acting ambassador would refuse to…participate,” Magnate said, his eyes glinting along with the starlight across his helmet, “but speaking of Princess Shuri, a fine young lady to be sure, but shouldn’t all the others be in attendance as well?”
“Didn’t see the point in bringing one,” Namor said languidly, the aristocratic equivalent of a shrug.
“Where Crystal goes so does Lockjaw.” Medusa’s hair wearily gestured around the space. “I doubt even less room would be conducive to these talks.”
Black Bolt gave Celestial and Luna an apologetic smile.
“Besides, Grim Skies is already in here,” Namor smirked. The Thing winked at him as Johnny tried not to laugh. Black Bolt put his hoof to his smiling lips in a silent cough.
“I think my sister could benefit from this more…informal style of affair,” the Panther said carefully. “Which is something I would like to discuss with your highnesses in due time.”
“Not time like the present,” Celestia smiled. “Unless anyone has other points they’ve been waiting to raise?”
Black Bolt placed a hoof on Medusa’s shoulder. She wrapped some strands around it as his horn hummed. Her eyes seemed to unfocus slightly and then return. “Your offer of sanctuary for those of our people who do not wish to undergo the great change is more than enough to start with. We take it this is to do with your proposed exchange program?”
“Exchange?” Namor looked at Luna with a raised eyebrow then over his shoulder at River Reeds. “Did you know anything about this, Doctor?”
“First I’m hearing of it, your highness,” Mr. Fantastic said, quirking his own brow at Celestia as his three other friends turned to him. “Though…the Element girls are here.”
“Oh for heavens sake…” Magnate shook his helmet. “Are you seriously proposing we take those fillies into the heart of our governments and sit down to be lectured about friendship?”
Luna frowned. “That’s an interesting definition of exchange.”
“Hmm.” Magnate gazed contemplatively at the table. “In that case I would not be averse to a dialogue with Princess Twilight.”
“The Elements are as free to accept or decline the offer as you all are,” Celestia said diplomatically and pointedly before Luna, eyes lighting up again, could say anything.
“Ah, yes. She’s your former student, isn’t she?” Magnate’s mouth did something for a second. It might have been a smile.
“Yes, I’m quite proud of her progress,” Celestia replied with a neutral one of her own.
“We are all here to forge ties stronger than trade agreements,” the Panther said, facing Magnate along with the rest of the room.
“Genosha will accept any offer of resources,” the mage responded coolly. His eyes flicked sharply to Celestia. “Though if we are to discuss taking people in, we will need a far longer conference. The persecution of Hexquestirans in Equestria is apparently so complex that simply letting them all escape to the sanctuary of Genosha can’t be considered a solution.”
“Those who wish to lead their lives in Equestria should be allowed to do so,” Celestia said, unable to keep years of exhaustion out of her eyes. “Magnus, please. We’ve talked about this for so long.”
“A rather one-sided conversation, as I recall.”
“We believe you,” Luna said pointedly.
Magnate’s nostrils flared as Namor, the Thing and the Horseshoe Torch burst out laughing.
“Sister.” Celestia put her wing on Luna’s shoulder again. “Obviously our methods are vastly different, but I cannot disagree with the minister’s feelings. The conditions facing the Hex-Breed are no laughing matter.”
The two superheroes coughed their way into uncomfortable silence, even though the smirk stayed on the Mariner’s face.
“So is he saying we’re fools for trying to give our people a chance here?” Medusa glared. Her hair was wavering in time with sparks gathering around Black Bolt’s horn. Both were stoic but clearly unhappy.
“I would never be so callous, your majesty,” Magnate replied smoothly. “But it would be remiss of me not to warn you of the dangers the truly unique face in trusting Equestrian society.”
“An Unknown is an Unknown no matter their choice,” Luna agreed, nodding at Medusa before returning her glare to Magnate. “But permit me to ask something right out in response to your insinuations: are you saying Genosha would accept those who don’t chose to mutate?”
“A relevant question your highness, thank you,” Medusa said. Their expressions, aimed at the seemingly unconcerned Magnate, were almost identical. The Fantastic Family exchanged glances but Celestia subtly shook her head to keep them in place.
“You’re welcome your highness,” Luna said, her voice sharp enough to skin Teflon coated fruit. “I apologise if it seems I am speaking for Attilan. I merely wish to point out that the only way the minster could have his current position was if he was elected via a process available to all residents of Genosha. What’s that term that’s supposed to be unflattering somehow? Flat-Breed?”
“A rare display of common sense on their part.” Magnus imperiously drew his cape around one foreleg. “Genosha’s…less gifted residents have nothing to fear from my administration, as would Unknowns of any sort. All are welcome, chiefly because much of the rest of the world is not welcoming. Perhaps Genosha shall lead by example. But as I’m sure Aqualusia’s own history demonstrates--”
“Oh by Areion’s mane! Enough!” Namor’s hooves slammed into the table, cracks dancing under them as he leaned towards the sisters. “Grim Skies hasn’t even challenged me to a fight and this is already feeling like a waste of time!”
“Hey!”
“Hang on, old friend,” Reed soothed, holding up an elongated hoof.
“Aqualusia needs nothing from the surface world except to be left alone!” The gills on Namor’s neck flared along with his eyes before settling. Somewhat. “I…appreciate this may conflict with my previous assertions that Equestria has been negligent in dealing with the issues we face. I came to this conference partly to…” His jaw clenched. “Apol--”
“There’s no need, Prince Namor,” Celestia said quickly. “Obviously we hope for a more amicable relationship in the future, but we shall respect your wishes. And we would be happy to offer aid if you felt it was needed.”
“You’ve done so much for us, despite these feelings,” Luna said with solemn eyes. She’d have reached out and taken his hoof if there hadn’t been witnesses and that oaf in the helmet sitting between them.
“Thank you,” Namor said softly. He looked from her to Celestia. “Both of you. What trade needs we have are satisfactorily met, despite the Storm King’s best efforts, so you’d need not go to any trouble on that score.”
“Though he seems to be turning his attention away from the oceans and further into the continent,” the Panther said. “Not to interrupt, but I would like to take the opportunity to say you can count on Wakanda’s aid should he think to challenge Avatars again.”
“Thank you,” Celestia smiled.
“Well said,” Namor agreed. “As for this exchange…I’ve no idea how you’d get one of those overgrown children down there, but I would not be opposed. I must insist they stay only a day at most, I doubt I’d be in such an amiable mood as tonight after that.”
Luna smiled at him, eyes half lidded. “Depends on the visitor, one assumes.”
Sue squinted again as Namor folded his forelegs in a jauntier manner. “Yes. Yes, it would.”
“We must insist on the Elements, I’m afraid,” Celestia smiled brittlely.
“Intriguing,” the Panther mused. “And somewhat serendipitous.”
“Oh?” Luna asked. “Is there some specific service they can do you on Equestria’s behalf? I’m not sure we’d want anything in return if that’s an issue. It seems we’re mostly trading in security as is.”
“I may take this opportunity to say that Wakanda’s needs are similarly met at present. I’m not sure of a need per say, but the only real thing my kingdom would like to deal in would be literature. From all present, of course.”
“Oh?” Celestia asked with an almost identical inflection to her sister’s.
“Somewhat amusing…I recently dealt with a smuggling ring. False paper businesses for covertly passing weaponizable spells through the kingdom. One of my leads was the discovery that some of our younger citizens use such services for the acquisition of bootleg Equestrian—what was the term?—ah, graphic novels.”
“Comic books?” Johnny said. He shrugged as the whole table looked at him. Saved all of them the trouble of asking, didn’t it?
The Panther nodded. “Indeed. I think it would certainly broaden our mutual understandings if we could experience each other’s art.”
“Absolutely, we’d be delighted to arrange that with all of you!” Celestia beamed. It faltered slightly. “One of those publishers…”
“Enchanted Comics, yes.”
“Oh dear. I hope the young ones are alright! Those spells are only in circulation because I couldn’t make the ban retroactive, I shudder to think what a bootleg version could do!”
“Oh, they’re quite well. We got them out with the same dimensions they had when they went in.” The shadows of the Panther’s mask furrowed. “They were strangely enthusiastic to do it again, as a matter of fact.”
“I have wonderful memories of the Manehattan public library and the Museum of Mysti-Modern Art.” Medusa smiled, fondly wrapping a foreleg and tendrils of hair around Black Bolt’s own. “Would anyone be interested in extending this to the visual arts? Unknown expressionism has made a comeback recently!”
Black Bolt’s eyes rolled. They froze as, without looking or altering her expression, Medusa gripped his foreleg tighter.
“We’d be delighted!” Celestia smiled. She turned to Magnate with tempered enthusiasm and expectations.
“Genosha’s wealth is in it’s people,” Magnate said. “Our museums have enough of the outside world’s works and I’m sure there is an agreeable price for our own. The true benefit shall be to those Equestrian minds prepared to recognize our most gifted artists’ visions. I take it your restrictions of my previous writings still apply?”
“I don’t know what you’re complaining about,” Luna muttered. “Your pamphlets were pulped but your book still sells well enough.”
“And yet I see almost no remuneration.”
“Because you renounced your citizenship.” Luna smirked. “Perhaps you’d like to make some sort of claim now? I’m sure your gifted citizens include some cracking intellectual property lawyers.”
The gilded parts of the immediate architecture quavered subtly.
“Your message is yours to spread, Magnus,” Celestia sighed. “Have you any other needs we could discuss?”
“There are several reasons I made this journey.” Magnate levitated a folded piece of parchment from somewhere in his cape. “To make contact with similar nations, chiefly. But if Equestria’s offers are true then I believe there is something you could supply me...Genosha with.”
Celestial took the parchment in her own field, unfolding it on the table. And froze.
Namor reared back in a mix of shock and amusement. The Panther’s eyes blazed almost blinding white. Medusa’s hair went limp with appalled shock as furious energy flickered silently around a clench jawed Black Bolt.
The Fantastic Family began to carefully spread out, Johnny’s temperature subtly rising. If it did go down, he’d be the team’s primary counter to the Magneto Mage’s powers. He tried to peer between the Panther and Namor to get a good look at what all the fuss was about. It looked like an engraving of a golden apple.
“…are you insane?” Luna said eventually. Her eyes were as white as the Panther’s.
“Luna!” Celestia snapped.
“Oh fine, fine!” Luna rounded on Magnate again, wings spread, hair billowing. “Yes, formalities must be observed, mustn’t they? May I ask if you are entirely in your right mind, sir?!”
“I am quite well, thank you Princess.” Magnate seemed amused. “Yourself?”
“I’m wondering why you’d ever think we’d knowingly give…one of those to someone like you!”
Silence.
“Ah.” Magnate nodded, speaking to himself. “So they do exist.”
Luna’s face became an ashen, horrified shade of blue. Namor glared at Magnate.
“Thank you for a wonderful evening.” Magnate nodded at a hard eyed Celestia. He rose into the air, turning in a swirl of royal purple fabric and seemed to notice the Fantastic Family for the first time. His smile lengthened incrementally. “Do excuse me.”
“One last thing before you leave, minister,” Celestia said in almost Namorian tones. “The recipients of the gifts of those fruits have two responsibilities. First, we are forbidden from directly aiding those who would seek them.”
“How convenient,” Magnate drawled.
“Secondly, we are obligated to warn them of the…idiosyncratic dangers involved in seeking them.”
“I wear one of fundamental forces of this planet around myself like a second coat, Princess, but thank you.”
And with that he was gone.
10
Almost.
The conversations in the other room died as Magnate drifted through the pavilion’s curtains, frowning at how one almost caught on his horn and knocked his helmet lose. He gazed balefully around the room as all the younger mares looked up at him. Twilight had a very Luna expression.
“Daughter,” Magnate said, not taking his eyes off her, “we are leaving.”
“Well maybe you are, minister,” Quicksilver drawled from the corner she was sharing with Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy.
“Silver.”
“Oh please, old man.” She rolled her eyes, the same colour as his. “It’s not as if I won’t be home before you are.”
“Fine,” Magnate said with seething restraint. He waved a blasé hoof in the Elements’ general direction as he drifted towards the antechamber, heading back into the mountain. “We’re to offer one of these young ladies an opportunity to stay with us for a few days. Princess Twilight is clearly uninterested. You pick one.”
Silver glanced at Rainbow Dash. “Hmm.”
“Hard pass.”
“Oh, well, now you’ve made it a challenge.”
“Ya’ll done in there?” Applejack asked as the Fantastic Family trailed Luna and the Sub-Mariner out of the room.
“Well, I am.” Namor looked around the room. “Which one of you can hold your breath the longest in an emergency?”
Pinkie bounced up and down, one hoof in the air. “Ooh, ooh, me! Why?”
“Namor, come on!” Luna chided, floating over the Thing to land beside him and deliver a (not very) stern nudge. “Do it properly!”
“Very well, very well,” the Sub-Mariner huffed. “Aqualusia would be honoured to play host to one of you brave ponies.” His eyes flashed like a storm warning. “For a day.”
“Thank you, your highness,” Twilight said quickly with a bow. “We can arrange it among ourselves.”
Pinkie’s ears folded slightly. Luna gave Namor a far sterner nudge, making his gills flex in shock and jerked her head in the party pony’s direction. “Miss…uh…”
“Pinkie Pie,” Luna stage whispered.
“Yes, her, she did answer the question first…”
“We can arrange it among ourselves,” Twilight said even more quickly, the last syllables draining like batteries as she realised Pinkie was already shaking hooves with a nonplussed Namor.
“A day’s all I’ll need, your lordship! Just gimme a few days to rustle up Granny Pie’s old diving suit and some waterproof balloons! Do you guys have water parks?”
“We have…parks.”
“They’re great,” Sousaphone smiled fading into view between the two. “And don’t let his highness’s stoic disposition fool you, Aqualusia knows how to throw a party.”
She batted her eyes at Namor, who’s scales were becoming more armour like. “You should’ve seen the spread he put on when he kidnapped me. The third time.”
“Always a pleasure, Sue,” the Sub Mariner said, smirking.
“We need to talk,” Luna grinned, wiping it out like a village in a hurricane as she put a wing around Sue’s shoulders and led her over to a buffet table.
“What a queen she would make…” Namor murmured distantly.
“The royal sisters are princesses in perpetuity,” Mr. Fantastic said with pleasant frigidness, stretching over to shake the Mariner’s hoof. “Do let us know if you need any help with Atuma, your highness.”
“A fine jest,” Namor sneered, squeezing Reed’s with full force because he knew it wouldn’t do anything besides make rude sounding noises. “There’s hope for you yet, Doctor.”
He glanced up without a hint of concern as shadow and light from the looming Thing and ignited Torch fell over him.
“We’ll walk ya out,” the Thing rumbled.
“I am the host here, thank you Captain Grim Skies.”
All three of the FF bowed to the approaching Celestia without ever taking their eyes off Namor. Who’s face became…perhaps…somewhat…uncertain as she put a very tight wing around his shoulder to lead him out of sight. That is, the room. “And besides, there are a few jurisdictional matters regarding celestial bodies I must discuss with Prince Namor.”
Johnny only held in the triumphant laughter because it was Princess For Real Celestia. He caught a glint of reflected multicolours in one of the wall shields, turned, and felt his flames almost become ice cold.
Crystal, Dash and Rarity were all making their way towards the buffet table.
11
“A documentary, you say!” Ferocious Flattop announced loudly enough for the bullpen of The Derby Bugle to hear. As if that would be a problem.
“Ah, yeah,” the mare in an ESU film department cap winced, one hoof to her ear as her crew trembled out of the elevator behind her. “Thanks for seeing us on such short notice Mr. Flattop, we appreciate it’s late.”
“Never too late to set Equestria straight!” Flattop barked proudly then leaned in confidentially. “Like that? Was my tagline during the radio show years! You kids can use it!”
“Thanks…?” the director tried.
“For the proper fee! Because I trademarked it! Always move fast with the good ones! Lil’ free lesson for ya there! The rest are available at one of my prestigious yearly seminars or yours for a lifetime on audiobook! Narrated by yours truly, naturally!”
The late shift reporters went back to work, satisfied that this was indeed the boss they knew and not a changeling.
“So what’s you kids’ angle?!” Flattop demanded, flinging open his office door.
“Well, our subject is local journalism and how it handles the fast-paced world of modern Equestria--”
“Nonono, I mean what’s your preferred style of shooting!” Flattop sprang behind his desk. “Wide angle?! Long shot?! One of those artsy Gelderland sideways things all the horror weirdos use?! C’mon, c’mon, we’re burnin’ moonlight here! What’s better, lights on or lights off?! Window shuttered or city backlighting?! Should we open on my distinguished profile or the glint of my steely but approachable eyes looking directly into the camera?!”
“Would you like anything to eat or drink before you start?” editor Rocky Roads offered kindly.
“Good point,” Flattop said before rounding back on the duck footed crew. “Keep your hooves out of our pastry basket! Get your own! This isn’t a bakery or a charity! In fact, shoulda grabbed dinner before you barged in here!”
“You bought them up, Ferocious,” Rocky said patiently. He frowned and sniffed the group before realising what he was doing and backing off. “…I’m sorry, what did you kids say this was for again?”
“A look into the modous operandi of a mighty metropolitan newspaper and the peerless mind that edits it, obviously!” Flattop huffed with pride. His ears drooped as they caught up with his mouth. “Publisher. Publish it. That’s what I meant.”
His moustache drooped too at the memory of why precisely he’d stepped down.
“Uh, media in general actually,” the director quavered, looking uncertainly between Rocky, a diamond dog who’d just sniffed her crew and seemed on edge, and Flattop, who was straight up called Ferocious but was also now making her feel sort of depressed. “Y’know, how you guys handle covering magic and the unnatural, small stuff, big stuff? You’re a local outfit, so we figured…”
“As if there were any other choice!” Flattop boomed proudly, self-inflating with vigour. “Hey, careful with that tripod, squinty, I just had this place reupholstered!”
“Did someone recommend you to us?” Rocky asked. “I’m sorry, there’s a familiar scent on your equipment…”
“Mr. O?” the director tried. “He set this all up! I mean, we thought the timing was weird, but he scheduled everything so professionally! Said he could hook us up with real reporters…”
“Never heard of ‘im!” Flattop snapped. “Reporters?! What do you think an edi—publisher, A PUBLISHER is except a reporter who cleaned up?! Reporters?! BAH! Whadda they know?!”
“Facts?” the director said, squinting and helping her nervous camera stallion steady the tripod in a way that wouldn’t offend the carpet.
“I gotta fact for you, young lady!”
Rocky sniffed the air again, head whipping to the elevators. A small crowd of staffers was stabbing impatiently at the buttons. None of the three banks seemed to be working. “Who did you just say?”
“Mr. O,” the director repeated.
“Everyone down!” Rocky bellowed, throwing himself between the crew and the office door.
Ponies and assorted creatures scattered as the elevator doors slammed open, green smoke punching its way into the bullpen. Desks rattled as creatures took cover or the smoke almost bowled them over. Flattop’s chair clattered to the ground as he shot to his hooves, dithering uncertainly as green wisps lapped at his new upholstery before he bounded over the desk to help Rocky with the startled kids (and their cameras). His eyes popped as a whirling column rose in front of him to become…
“YOU!” he barked. “I might have known!”
“Sorry,” Spider-Pony sneered. “Couldn’t resist.”
He drew his web-wings up around himself like a cloak, making Flattop even angrier as he realised it couldn’t be that menace (who was surely at least lurking somewhere near by!) because it was an older version of that obnoxious costume, and spread them as he melted into the villainous visage of--
“Mysterio!” a voice snapped out of the fog. A reporter yelped as a lashing shadow split the desk they were cowering under in half. “Idiota! Where are you?! I can’t see a thing in your blasted fog!”
“That’s alright,” the illusionist huffed. “We haven’t started rolling yet. Greetings, young visionaries! No, don’t stop cowering on our account, I bought my own cameras!”
He clapped his gauntleted hooves and a small squadron of magi-tech drone cameras whirled into the room.
“Ferocious, get out of here!” Rocky snarled, squaring up to the doorway though not with much certainty. “He’s not the only scent I recognise!”
“Ah, that’s right, you’ve met,” Mysterio’s voice leered out of that trademark polished helmet. He threw a foreleg up to make a curtain out of his cape. “May I present my distinguished co-star… No, over here you fool! Over here! Ugh! The one! The only!”
“Mueca Esgrimidor!” Flattop hissed in horrified outrage as the cape swung aside.
“That’s Escorpión to you, old friend,” the olive armoured swordpony sneered, teeth gleaming in a venomous grin and his tail dancing in sadistic sync with the trails of his moustache. “You did give me the name after all. Along with my criminal record.”
“Hey!” Mysterio yelped, flinching as Scorpión’s tail almost shattered his helmet on the way to slicing the carpet inches from Flattop. “Watch it! Do you know what it costs to make these things?”
“MY UPHOLSTERY!” Flattop bellowed. “YOU MONSTER!”
“Monster?!” Escorpión’s tail lashed back into the air in perfect sync with the stunned hoof he placed over his heart. “If I’m a monster it’s only because of what you did to me! My moustache has started rattling when I get upset, did you know that?!”
“Oh, so that’s what that is!” Mysterio put a relieved hoof to his helmet. “That’s been driving me nuts all day. Thought I was getting an inner ear thing.”
“I admitted I should’ve checked those potions years ago, Grimidor!” Flattop snapped. “That’s what taking responsibility looks like! You’re the one who decided having a scorpion tail meant going on a crime spree!”
“Bah! My skills were worth a thousand times the pittance your precious paper was paying me! I took what was mine and you and la Araña took my honour!”
“YOU WERE A MERCENARY!” Flattop bellowed in his equivalent of indignant spluttering.
“I WAS A FREELANCE PEACEKEEPER!”
“YOU WERE DROWNING IN CHEAP CIDER AND GAMBLING DEBTS BEFORE I FOUND YOU!”
“♪Loving it!♪” Mysterio cooed as drones got multiple close ups of those rage filled faces from every angle.
“We know what Grimidor wants,” Rocky said carefully, still shielding the film crew, “but what’s in it for you, Quark?”
“Drama, mostly!”
“Raider’s started airing documentaries for movie night and he caught the bug,” Escorpión muttered into one of the drones.
Mysterio’s dome shot into his personal space, reflecting the swordpony’s irritated expression back at him. “That’s right, undermine me! Just completely ignore the fact I orchestrated aaaaaaall of this from a prison cell!”
“You orchestrated? You’re only here because I agreed to bust you out.”
“Strange how you only had the motivation after I made the offer! I’m the director and the real talent here, that was the deal.”
“The deal was you get your little toys; I get my revenge!”
“And a documentary about it. Not complaining about that part of the plan, are we?”
“If I didn’t need a demo tape…!”
“Well you do!”
“Because I must remind the powers that be that they can rely on my expertise!” El Scorpión turned his best side to one of the cameras while leisurely making his tail form a double helix. “After the Maggia sees what I can do to anypony on their list I’ll be able to pay back your outrageous fee.”
“I let you haggle me down to 10%.”
“Of every job I do for the next year!”
“See? It was going to be the next decade. Is that really so much?”
“After el Rey del Crimen takes his cut?” Escorpión squinted at that thought, then sneered. “Ha! It’s so you don’t have to pay him yours, isn’t it?”
“Th-this is about art, not mere money!” Mysterio spluttered.
“It’s always about money with el Rey.”
“Tell me about it.”
Both villains shuddered.
“You can edit that part out, right?” Escorpión asked hastily.
“Totally.”
“Good. Just make sure you get the best shot of what I’m about to do to...”
Escorpión turned to find only an empty desk surrounded by swirling green mist. His eyes went wide behind their mask lenses. “…FLATTOOOOP!”
His tail arced furiously through the air. One of the cameras made a sad dying battery noise as it was caught in a strike en-route to demolish Flattop’s desk. “My babies!” Mysterio protested.
“You’re next if you don’t find him!” Escorpión snapped shoving the illusionist out into the bullpen.
“Hey, he’s your revenge patsy. Not my fault you can’t even keep an eye on him.”
“You’re the one who filled the place with smoke!”
“It’s called branding!”
“That what your therapist told you?” an airduct asked cheerfully. A grating whirring noise shook through the walls of the building.
Escorpión reared up, ramming his tail into the ceiling duct…almost in perfect sync with Spider-Pony bursting from the other to crash down on Mysterio and deliver a kick to the fencer’s solar plexus.
The room began to clear of Mysterio’s mist, funnelling into every vent. Plaster duster rained down from Flattop’s ceiling as Escorpión shot backwards into a bookshelf, dragging his tail down on top of him. “You?! Pero cómo..?!”
“Been here a while,” Spidey called cheerfully as the whir of hundreds of fans began to subside. “Got a hot tip you guys’d swing by and somepony had to take the time to set up The Bugle’s ventilation system just right. Who else was gonna do it, Ferocious?”
“YOU’VE JUST RUINED OUR ESCAPE, YOU MENACE!” the publisher bellowed. All three supers and most of the bullpen turned to where he, Rocky and the crew had been crawling across the floor to the stairwells. The vents had devoured so much mist there was only a slight green tinge to the air.
“Oh, that’s right!” Spidey snapped two tips of his tail like fingers. “I’m in cahoots with everyone! That’s why good ol’ Mueca’s gonna do…”
He sprang out of the way of the tail’s barb. But it was a faint, curving into the space he was about to occupy and snagging his leg. Staffers ducked as Escorpión whipped the vigilante out of the office and across the room to slam into one of the wall-mounted frontpages of yesteryears.
“…tHaT,” Spidey mumbled into the floor, half wondering through the pain if the photo had been by Peter Trotter.
“Fulmina venite!” Mysterio’s pompous voice intoned seconds behind Spider-Sense. Spidey rolled to avoid a blast of Quark’s homemade lightning, launching himself to one of the bullpen’s support beams to keep the sights on him. And off his former co-workers.
“Can’t even show up to you own demise on time,” the illusionist grumbled as he and Escorpión took position.
“Wait…” Escorpión squinted then his moustache rattled. “Did you arrange for him to be here?!”
“I wove a web of intrigue using a seemingly simple anonymous street tip!” Mysterio protested. “He shouldn’t have been here for at least half an hour!”
“You used Turk to plant it, man, don’t try and get anypony to feel sorry for you.” Spidey ricocheted off the walls a few times to keep them guessing, then used a ceiling fan to spin himself towards Mysterio. The illusionist vanished in a burst of green smoke and hammy laughter.
“Guess it’s just the two of us.” Spidey ducked a tail swipe and hopped onto the nearest wall, Escorpión bounding across to the opposite one so they faced each other. “Mente si hacemos esto en español? Me gustaría la práctica!”
“Podría usar la práctica,” Escorpión corrected, looping his tail slightly to emphasise the difference.
“Ah, bien, gracias.”
“De nada. MORIR!”
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[quote“It’s alright, it’s alright!” Crystal waved calming hooves. “He’s just playing fetch!”
“Oh.” Fluttershy rubbed her throat. She really shouldn’t get so testy, it was bad for the other person’s feelings and her vocal cords. “Um, fetch what?”
“Anything,” Crystal smirked with impish pride. Oh, that's why johnny likes her so much.
"Prince Namor and I would investigate alone. At night. And the trenches will be very, very dark."
This is the most I've ever liked Namor. That's not a high bar, but still...
He was going to use the A word!
For real, The Invaders are one of my favorite Super Hero teams and I wish they could stay in print longer than a year or so.
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If you think about it Crystal is also someone who has to live in a lavish but confined setting with a pain in the ass older sister. She probably wouldn't be as much of a snot as Johnny but she'd probably also take her fun where she could get it.
Yeah? Any particular reason?
The team fits together really well. Toro and Bucky have a great 'brothers in arms' deal, Captian America is, ya know, Captian America, Namor only really works as a noble/barbarian type hero because he approaches politics like he's fighting a war, and that's only cool when he's actually in a war, and Jim Hammond is in my opinion severely underrated. Marvel Tales #1 is a comic that holds up really well and does a great job of establishing the tone the Marvel Universe typically takes, and Jim's got a lot of the same struggles most robot characters go through, but he doesn't have the one personality that all robots struggling with their humanity have or generic robot powers.
Oh, I see now.
So Johnny does want to live, that's nice.
Oh, that's JJJ. I do like that he's friends with Spidey now in the comics, though.
"I might even tell it's happening later."
vignette.wikia.nocookie.net/powerlisting/images/0/0c/Flash_Cloudrun.jpg/revision/latest?cb=20160820080358
10090006
"I wanna live again Clarence, I wanna live again!"
"WHAT didja just call me, ya little schnook?"
Right? I think it's a lot more interesting than whether or not Jim Gordon knows who Batman is or that kinda thing because Jonah knowing seriously changes their dynamic.
There are also two jobs I think would be great new directions for J.Jonah Jameson. That time he was mayor of New York for five minutes they didn't really do anything with, and being the host of the Marvelverse Tonight Show.
Pffft
Huh.