//------------------------------//
// Explanations: Part 1 
// Story: Lost in Paradise 
// by leeroy_gIBZ 
//------------------------------//

"So you kidnapped Indigo Zap. And then interrogated her about what I assume is the Friendship Games. And she told you about my condition. So when you saw me at your nightclub, you just had to take into the back for a few drinks and a quick romp in the hay?" I replied.

Father Imaginos smiled and if it weren't for the fact that his teeth were a mess of yellow decay, I would have been blinded. "Excellent. You aren't as stupid as your friend. Now, what happens next?"

"Well, considering that one of your 'harlots' just poured me champagne, I'd guess that romance is still on the menu. Now, I'd suppose that you, a egocentric type, are into roleplay. As such, I'd guess that we'll sit here for a while - you'll be Dr. Caballeron and I'll be Daring Do. And since we're already in your lair, I suppose that you'll have to tell me your master plan. And then you'll kill me."

The man broke out into a fit of laughter. Knee-slapping, drink-spitting, snort-gurgling laughter. It was like something out of The Everfree Book; this great black panther roaring away because his captive pony told him a joke. Admittedly, I did not get it. Then again, I have no idea how this world's humor works.

Eventually, he recovered. Another round of drinks was ordered and it occurred to me - while the priest was still chuckling, of course - that everyone else in the private section of Klub Ice was quite familiar. If I looked closely enough, and if the lighting was good, I could spot a few ponies that I knew. Eureka Lead, the Royal Tailor; Cumulonimbus, Royal General; Sugarcoat, the Royal Pain and Pangalactic and Gargleblaster, the Royal Brewmaster and Astronomer, respectively.

"Good, I can see why the other me took you as an apprentice. If your ability is as sharp as your wit, I'm sure you'd have a great future ahead of you." Father Imaginos finally replied, "But, since you're here, you can help me instead."

"With what? It looks like you have enough friends already. And why is Sugarcoat of all ponies here?"

The girl must have noticed me because with in seconds her angry glare was followed up with an angry reply, "I am here because I am a friend of Father Imaginos. Oh and by the way, your attempt at getting in was spectacularly pathetic; I almost wanted Gilda to hit you. Maybe you should consider not forging-"

"That's quite enough, my dear. Now go and enjoy the concert before I have Dumbbell throw you into the mosh pit." Interrupted Imaginos, his index finger placed over a rather annoyed Sugarcoat's lips. Frowning, the girl strode off and soon became just another weird outfit in a sea of fashion victims.

Now, where were we? Something about you getting me in the horse world?" 

"No, we were talking about... yes, we were talking about that. I'm afraid I can't help you, though; I have no idea how to get back."

He chuckled again and stood up, gesturing around to his club. "You will, Mirage, for you shall have all the the resources you'll ever need behind you! Just name it and you shall have it,"

"Well, in that case, I'd like to go home and never do this again. And also, how many resources does a nightclub have, exactly?" I asked, looking around at the room. It did not inspire me. Then again, bad lighting, bad suits, bad drinks and tacky decor never does. Seriously, every available surface must have been covered in mirrors. Most of the other surfaces weren't available because they were covered birch paneling, rhinestones, leather or modern art. The man literally had an entire wall devoted to the works of Jackson Fetlock and as distasteful as his paintings are, they aren't terrible enough to tear a hole though time and space. Yet anyway, I did hear that he had been experimenting with Zebra dung.

The priest was terribly offending by my statement. I know this for he adopted that tone of voice his princely counterpart adopted whenever some bright spark had annoyed him enough to have the prince suddenly remember that "those inquisitive souls over at Camp Crow's River always needed new volunteers". It was not a tone of voice that any sane pony ever wanted to hear. Most insane ponies didn't care and most ponies went insane after a week with Asklepian anyway so I was not too keen on hearing it directed at me. It was a joyfully sadistic tone in a grim world run in part by a cadre of sadists and in part by a monarch who had no qualms in indulging them. And I had just been a very bright spark indeed.

"Mirage Nocturne. I am not a man to be disrespected. You see, my holdings are an iceberg."

Dammit. He's mad too.

Luckily, he continued and made very clear that he did not own a large piece of ice floating somewhere in the Crystal Seas. "They are an iceberg in the way that very little of it is above water. Whether the water in this analogy represents public knowledge or the laws of the land is up to debate but do keep in mind A: The resources of the Cult of Desdinova are far greater than they seem. And B: If you insult me again, I will have you killed until you wish you were dead."

I thought I heard a monotone voice shout "That isn't possible. Anyone killed is, by definition, dead" but that might just have been the music. If so, it was the most interesting set of lyrics I had heard the entire night. If not, I wonder why Sugarcoat gets a free pass on annoying this madman.

"Fine. What specifically do you need me to do?"

He smiled and I began to desperately hope that he realized the my Daring Do allusion was sarcastic. If it wasn't, I was in for one rough night.