On apologies. · 9:02am Mar 19th, 2013
With my final year well under way, and all the beautiful exams that come with it, I must apologize for my lack of foresight. I had said that updates for casebook were to become less infrequent. However, If you know what a Cap A is, you'll know how much fun the Powers That Be can have in setting you three in one week, and such is a state that has befallen me. Thus, I doubt if we'll be any were near publishable by the weekend.
However, as a show of good faith, I shall include two excerpts from Casebook, and another piece of writing, as of yet untitled, to titillate you with.
Again, apologies, and I hope you enjoy.
I stood upon Holmes’ left, who stood on the left of Miss Sparkle, and all three of us formed a harbour around our Liverpool Industrialist. I was about to inquire where Miss Dash was to reside, when she appeared before us all, looping the guy-ropes around her torso in what I realised was a harness.
“Rainbow, when we get there,” cried Miss Sparkle, “try not to punch through the Carousel Boutique. Snips was not impressed then, and I doubt he will be impressed now.”
“Pfft, yeah, I got it the first time. We all know how much Rarity ripped him off,” Miss Dash rolled her eyes, “and don’t look at me like that, Twi’, you know it’s true.”
With impressive speed, she zipped skyward. The balloon whipped around behind our lightening fast engine, and the first few minutes were spent clinging to whatever object offered its existence. Terrible feelings of motion accosted my stomach and chest, as if the whole system were privy to some averse experiment."
Eye was absolutely furious: a private inquisition had completely bypassed the Ministry for Inquiries itself! The Minister set to work contacting the appropriate Ministers with strongly worded and highly frank memos regarding their alleged conduct. He received only one reply, from ex-Captain of the Wonderbolts, and current Minister for Defence, Spitfire.
The Captain was adamant no meeting had ever taken place, and that the Minister should, in her words, ‘cool his jets’. This was when Eye’s scrutiny was elicited. The mailroom messenger, and then later the clerk, were called to his office to give statements. The clerk was re-hired under Eye’s command, and he set the ministry to pouring over every statement, memo, ledger and margin of every record ever kept by, with or for the Wonderbolts.
This pastime occupied him for the better part of the three months between the incident and our meeting, within which he pieced together an alarming report.
Over thirty billion bits had been flowing, unnoticed and unchecked, through the accounts of the Wonderbolts, and out into some unknown investment. The stagnation of the organisation itself was obviously some cause for suspicion. Further, it seemed that rather sizeable investments had been made, under the Wonderbolts, into a hitherto unheard of Griffonic Banking House.
The implications were scandalous: The Wonderbolts, Equestria’s premium military presentation team and paramilitry force, was infact a front for a vast, money swindling empire with unsettling connections to the Griffonic Empire.
I entreated the Minister to rest--he had performed exceptionally--and set about passing the brief through the Court of Application, to be heard in the old Canterlot Bar itself; the proposed chancellory inquisition was raised to a Royal Commision; the movements of Soarin, The Captain of the Wonderbolts, Shining Armor, The Captain of the Guard, and Spitfire, The Minister of Defence, were all to be strictly observed; and all assets of the Wonderbolts, including its stocks, were to be frozen.
Well, I practically made Royal Solicitation a thing; surely, under exceptional circumstances, I could make my own precedent too.
I decided to open up the folder by my hooves once more. It’s not like I hadn’t already spend the better part of three days reading those three transcripts, but at least it would look like I knew what I was doing.
The first bundle of paper, typed upon standard, non watermarked foolscap, was extracted from the cardboard folder, and quietly splayed out upon the non occupied sofa cushion.
I opened it to a dog eared page, covered in little black lines of my own hoof betwixt the cold, formatted typeface.
There was one passage I found most intriguing. It had been underlined, circled, annotated and copied onto small memo’s which I had left dotted around the library.
“As Senior Counsel to the Defendant,”--it was written most anhydrously--“I put it to Your Honor to disregard the ruling of Lord Justice Bhones, upon the grounds that, despite its indisputable legal precedent, the Defendant’s background is entirely relevant to his actions. For Anarchism is not an idiosyncrasy, as originally ruled. It is an ideology, and transcendent of individual subjectivity. We here in Equestria make precedent for ideological faith; why not for ideological belief?”
Woot!