++Ivory Medallion memorial park. Early morning.++
Rain.
The rain was alway a constant presence around here. Something about being on the coast and evaporation that the pegasi couldn’t completely clear up, so they just let it go when it needed to. Sure it freaked out the other ponies in Equestria that visit, but ponies were bad like that. A head in the sand kinda deal, they need to be freaked out a little.
The thought made doctor Epitaphs Light smile most nights. Little things like misbehaving weather disrupting ponies from their comfortable ignorance endeared him to the place. Shame that same rain was making him feel the opposite of pleased right now. In fact it was down right infuriating.
The park where the sweet old mare was found had been washed in a downpour early this morning, removing too much evidence in the process. He could barely smell the blood now, mixing with the cheap perfume she wore as the park drank it all up.
Sucking on a fang, the dusky brown and off white toned thestral just sat in sullen contemplation of the loss to the city. The elderly were living stories, and this one was now lost except to tell a new tale. One this city hasn’t seen in a long, long time.
Murder, was a rare thing in Equestria. A horrible word of legend, upsetting sensibilities in this land of song and love. But the brutality of it was something that would resonate in the shadows of the city for ages to come and here he was, umbrella over his head, taking notes about the whole thing without a clue where to begin with this. Oh sure he had some ideas, force of the attack was very professional from what he could see, enough to pierce her frail hide, no extra force delivered, breaking bones, no ragged slashes or wounding to show panic. Until he got the poor dear back to the morgue he wouldn’t know for sure, but this was not something done by one unaccustomed to killing.
He immediately wrote down ‘Griffon.’ Then as an after though added minotaur with a question mark.
“I know that look.” Came the raspy voice beside him. “You think you got something big and you can’t stand not knowing enough to guess an ending. Is it really that bad?” Constable Dusty trails winced at her wording, violet eyes flashing to the remains only long enough to make the glance apologetic. “I mean.. Outside the obvious. Not that I mean to disrespect her, or this. Or..”
Sighing at her own tactlessness she was however saved by the bat pony from further shame.
“I understand what you mean, don’t worry. This is something of notable black mark in our towns chapter. I just don’t know how big it will be yet, and how soon we can put it to a just conclusion.” His voice coming off comforting, despite it usually sounding fit for a funeral speech.
“So you have something to go with already?” Stepping over to quirk her head at the notebook, wanting something to look at besides the rain and.. and the victim, she catches a few notes and the circled species name.
“Hmn, no. Just some ideas i’m working on. You will have more later constable, once she is brought back to the morgue where I can see what else she may tell us.” Shutting the notebook quickly from her sight he takes a breath and stands after pocketing the booklet into his saddlebag, “I am quite done here, the detective had a look as well and we will be comparing notes later. I’m sorry, but we will have to postpone coffee for another night. I have much work to do and i can assure you, part of it is going to involve me standing back end to the fire place to dry off. “ looking back at his sodden rump he gives it and his tail a wet shake for emphasis , causing Dusty to smile a bit, hoof to her lips to retain some dignity for the scene.
“That's why we don't sit down much here. Wet towns are busy towns Eppy.” The eye roll from the near-middle aged doctor was softened by the patient smile as he turned to trot off. “I’ll try and get tickets for that new Bound East play next week.” A dark brown wing extending was enough response for her. Unfortunately that left her with the job at hand. Looking down at the figure now having an oilcloth draped over her still form, her gaze drifts to the spilled contents of the purse. The human care products making her eye glaze over with sad thoughts and her own human. No one wants to find a scene like that again in their lifetime.
=][=
Cursing into the privacy of his own mind, Lt. John Pyke sat on the wooden crate in the abandoned education facility, once again eyeing up the bite on his hand, human teeth patterns in bright red. It was worse than the scratches on his face and neck from the slave woman. Mindless panic was always a good motivator to fight, but never good for stopping anyone dedicated. But by the Throne on Terra it still hurt!
Huffing he hops off the crate to walk around the small fire he made in a back rooms wood stove. Thank Him that he seemed to be in a city, primitive and alien as it was. The wilderness was no place for a hive worlder. Nowhere sensible to hide or plunder, just run, shiver and starve till something ate you. Here there was so much to do and resources to aquire.
‘Recon, intel, defence and infrastructure assessments, food, weapons. And a whole city of primitive xeno slavers to obliterate.’ Pacing back and forth in the room that was smaller than what he was used to, he had only started to calm down from his edging panic of last night, enough that his body was telling him sleep would be a fine option about now.
‘Vigilance begets victory.’ He paused to let out a breath. His eye twitching and that damned hollow buzzing in the back of his skull putting up a counter suggestion to sleeping. Scowling he looks to the doors of the small room and hallway. ‘Alarms are always vigilant.’ He spent the next twenty minutes rigging up various crude alarm systems with leftover rope, twine and metal scrap, staring into the fire as he finished putting one last decimated chair piece into the flames.
‘This world is infested. Where do i even begin with a blight this large? Where do i even begin to call for help? I’ll need to know more. Tonight will do. Supplies first, medical and food. They’ll need to support their bodies, corrupt as it is, I’ll start with those.’ Curled up in the corner with not so much as a blanket, he leans his head against the desk next to him as he sat, back to the wall. One final prayer to the God-Emperor before he drifted to sleep.
For the first time in his life, his dreams were not waiting with claws and horrible whispers.
=][=
Elsewhere, underground.
“..allthesonsbecameasaroaringtidethestartsfoolishenoughtostandbeforeandweredefiledtothecoresbeforehewhostrodethetwistingheavens..”
“What do you mean ‘you don’t know?” The minotaur was not pleased.
“I mean I don’t know!” The minotaur was still not pleased.
“..sothefoolishspakeuntothelostandbroughttherevelationofdamnationtothemwithajoyofcompleteignoranceonlyofeonsinthemakeingastheyrentthecarvedeffigiesofold..”
“Then tell me what you do know!” The meaty fist slammed onto the oak table, marred by heavy work, but it was the only one fitting the bovines stature. It often resisted his violent outbursts, being a much better target for his anger than his subordinates. Good help was hard to find, but scaring away any help was bad for business.
“Forhedidnotlooktothewisdomofhisfathersfathersbutthegapingmawofthosewhoaretoforeverbeonewithmaddnessandtruthswirlinginthederelecthallsofreasonandvirturebeforethesettin-”
One of the said help shut the door hard, reducing the building headache of the bull by putting a barrier between themselves and the madly rambling unicorn in the next room.
“Well..see..we got the spell from.. well you know who, and Chart thought it would be a great idea to fine tune it a bit, ya know?” The dirty pink stallion with the missing tooth explained, trying to add some optimism to he story. As little appropriate it was to the moment. “And so he thinks he got it, sez we could drag any of them we want where we want to. So he starts casting, says its like fishing, just throw, reel and pull.”
The bulls eyes track the pantomime of the action the pony carried out, the iron in the glare should have been sign enough to not keep doing it.
“And so he starts pullin’, sez he got something. But it starts pullin’ back so he just puts more glow into it, ya see. Well he’s gettin all excited cuz its like a sport to him now, whooping and hollering, but then." Pauses to point a hoof out to the closed door." When he sez he almost got it. Well..” scratching behind one leg with the other he looks down shamefully to the old flagstone floor. “He just, goes real still. I ask him what's wrong, but then everything just goes up, poof!” Waving his hooves around and wide eyed as he elaborates with excitement. “Pink! Nuthin but glowin’ pink cloud! And it tastes like someone screaming in your head! Next i know i’m waking up and chart is sitting there..” sheepishly he turns back to the door the two guards stand by, muffled gibberish continuing as he motions with a hoof.
“..Rambling insanely, while you are drenched in the puddle of your own urine and vomit.” The base voice replies, hard eyes looking down at the soiled pink earth pony.
“Er..y-yeah. Some. Something like that.” More awkward glances to the floor are made.
The scuffing of a minotaur sized chair across the flagstone brought his eyes back up, cringing as the bull stepped around the table, iron grey hooves clomping heavily as he made his way over.
“He was the only mage pony I had in this region, the other unicorns only know how to grab their own dicks with their magic as a ‘neat trick.' I need to go ask someone about fixing his idiot, candy coloured pony mind.” Reaching down to the pink mess on hooves, he grabs them by the scruff and bodily lifts him with little effort. “And you, are going to look after him for the next two days while I’m gone doing that.” Half tossing them to the floor in front of the heavy wood cell door, the master of his domain turned to the doorway out of his office, stone-faced guards, more akin to disciplined brigands, following behind. Over his shoulder he growled out one last command. “If I see you screwed this up someway, its the last time in a long list of screw ups from you I'm going to tolerate, no matter who your mother is.”
The door slamming behind the guards, leaving the pink stallion to sulk petulantly. Quietly, incase the bull could hear through an ash door he mutters to himself. “S’not even my fault, you stupid, two legged cow..” getting up he starts walking in circles, grumbling darkly about how unfair life was for him.
“..hey..”
After all, it's not his fault his mother couldn't raise him right. Too much rich living and all that. No skill to learn to be a badass. Yeah.
“Hey..”
“Huh? Chart?” Swinging his head towards the door, he could just make out the dim colours of his friend through the bars on the peep window. Smiling he canters towards the door. “Oh Celestia, that you chart? Yer ok? Oh wow I can go get the boss and tell him to get off my back! I’m gunna go get-”
“STOP.”
Stumbling on his hooves as he tries to halt his motion of half galop, half turning to the door he just stagger steps a few times to look back. The command felt like it came from the rock itself. “Wha? Buh. But I gotta go tell him, he’s just..” turning to point at the door, he once again stops as the voice of chart slithers from the cell.
“Nah man, ya gotta let me out first. Just come open the door, I'm feeling a bit frazzled, I think ya gotta pick me up..”
Finding himself already opening the door without knowing how, the stallion peeks inside the dark room. “Uh, sure but. Hey, you doing alright chart? You sound different.” Stepping into the shaded room, his hooves clopping over the stone and hay floors of the cell. “What's with your fur? It's all sticky, just lean on me. Yeah there we go. Heh, don’t need to hug me or anything bud, I’ve gotcha, jushHURGK-!”
Cartilage popping and wet noises follow soon after. The wheezing whistle of breathing through places that air shouldn’t flow from, mercifully did not last long. The giggling however, went on for hours.
=][=
Lazing on the proper couch, which was in fact, just two pony sized couches pushed together, the tall figure of the ginger woman sprawled haphazardly off the edge, a good book in hand and snacks nearby when the urge took her between pages of the shockingly salacious, harlequin romance novel. Or, something akin to that in weird pony puns. Honestly, much of the time she’s sure she’s living in a children's cartoon. there's these little details that spring out of nowhere that are so jarring to the cultural norms of home that they feel phoned in. Like some idiot hastily writing something into a script to fill in blanks that weren't covered. Or a fanfic. She was still deciding on which. God she hoped she wasn't in a fanfic.
The steamy paragraph she was enveloped in and trying not to remember how thinking horses are sexy is gross, is interrupted by the door of the apartment echoing hollow as it bounced off the door jam, announcing her roomates return. She would have called out to Dusty if she could, but, alas. Magical voice hex and stuff, so Trace just laid there, grabbing another handful of trail mix. Dusty would yell if she needed anything, and Trace did love to rile her up.
Clopping hooves on floor boards, rug, door shutting then boards again as the auditory trail of Dusty moved from front door to kitchen then living room. Raising a hand in general greeting, Trace was shocked to find the small form of her room mate/owner, crawling onto the couch and onto Trace herself, slumping down onto the larger woman and eliciting an ‘oomf!’ in response.
“Nnng. Bad day, need a hug.” The scratchy voice of Dusty muffled a command after burying her muzzle into the space between the redheads neck, where her curly mass of hair and the couch formed a warm nest. Sighing in good natured defeat, trace just wrapped her arms around the mare, offering snuggles to her friend of two years on this world. Humming curiously to the equine ear laying on her cheek.
“Mmph, you don’t wanna know. It’s bad’n I just wanna lay here fer a bit.” Nodding, Trace just strokes the ponies back and wings for a few moments in silence.
“Could you scratch my neck too. I would really really like that.” Giggling at the muffled request, she was all too happy to oblige, unable to properly tease about master/pet relations. There was always tomorrow. For now, she just snuggles and scratched her tiny friend till hunger got the better of at least one of them and kitchen work had to be done.