//------------------------------// // Interrogation, Introspection, and Work // Story: Consequences // by shallow15 //------------------------------// Tempest returned to the Canterlot Mall at about eleven on Saturday morning. The mall had been open for an hour and was bustling with the usual collection of weekend shoppers, teenagers, and employees. The STORM agent made her way swiftly to the Nobody Loves Me store and glanced inside. The girl with the three colored hair was stocking shelves, while a tall, skinny goth girl was manning the counter. Tempest straightened her jacket and went inside, walking up to the counter. “How can I help you?” said the goth girl in a tone which implied “how can I help you?” was a synonym for “Death is inevitable and life a fleeting spark of nothingness.” “Inky Rose” was the name on the tag she wore. Tempest pulled out her ID and flashed it. “Agent Tempest Shadow. May I speak to the manager, please?” “That's me,” replied Inky Rose, in much the same way one would pronounce “the heat death of the universe is constant and nothing you say, do, or create will last and eventually we will all be forgotten in the endless void of entropy.” Tempest stared at the girl for a moment before continuing. “I'm investigating the incident that happened here two weeks ago. I was hoping I could talk to the employee who was assaulted during that time?” “Sure, no problem,” said Inky Rose, her tone implying that while she was personally glad her employee was alive, inevitably everyone in that room would die and nothing they did mattered in the slightest on the cosmic level. “Beachberry? This lady would like to talk to you in private. Use the stock room.” Beachberry got up and turned around. She wore cats-eye glasses, jeans and a pink tank top, a beach ball shaped pendant on a chain around her neck, and a bright orange cast on one arm. She froze slightly when she saw Tempest, but quickly recovered. “Um... yeah. Sure. Right this way.” She led Tempest through an “Employees Only” door in the back of the store to a small room crowded with merchandise. Tempest produced her ID again and introduced herself. “I'd like to hear about your experience on the day of the mall rampage two weeks ago,” she said. “I've seen the security footage. You're lucky.” “I know,” Beachberry replied. “Look, I don't know what caused that psycho to attack me. I didn't even see her come into the store. I was putting some stuff back on the rack, when bam! The next thing I know there's a bright light and I'm crashing into the store across the hall and my arm is twisted in a direction it isn't supposed to be able to bend.” “She must have had some reason,” said Tempest. “People don't usually randomly assault shop clerks for no reason.” “You should be here during the holidays,” Beachberry muttered. She sighed. “I really wish I could help you more, Agent Shadow, but that's really all I know.” “I don't believe you.” “What?” Beachberry blinked as Tempest moved forward in the small space, forcing the teenager up against a counter of collectible figurines. She loomed over Beachberry, casting a shadow over her. “I don't believe you. I think you know exactly why you were attacked. You haven't made eye contact with me once since your manager called you over. You've been looking everywhere in this room except at me while you told your story. It's a good story, probably mostly true, true enough to fool the police. But not me.” Tempest's hand shot out, grabbed Beachberry's casted arm and held it up. “If this had happened to me, I'd be pissed. I'd want whoever was responsible to pay for what they did to me. So I have to wonder why you're going out of your way to avoid identifying them. Makes me wonder what it is you have to hide.” Beachberry's eyes were wide and she swallowed hard. She looked around, as if expecting someone to be hiding among the T-shirts and posters scattered around the room. She turned to a desk that was crammed in one corner of the room. She grabbed a piece of paper off the top of a pile of flyers and handed it to the agent. “I can't tell you much, because I'm genuinely not sure what happened. But I think, if you really want to know what was going on around here, you should be asking what happened to her.” Tempest looked at the girl, searching for any tells that she was lying. Beachberry's expression was serious with a tinge of fear. But not enough fear to completely come clean. The STORM agent knew she had reached her limit with the girl. Whatever she knew, she was more afraid of the consequences of telling than of what Tempest might do to her if she didn't. Tempest stepped back. “All right. Thank you for your time, Miss Beachberry.” Tempest turned and walked out of the stock room. Beachberry's knees gave out and she grabbed the counter top to steady herself, sending boxes of adorable pop culture characters to the floor. As Tempest walked past the checkout counter, she looked over at Inky Rose. “Thank you for your help.” “Anytime,” said Inky Rose, in a voice which pronounced doom and devastation to any who dared to waste the precious gift called life in this enclosed tomb of decadence and rampant consumerism. Outside the shop, Tempest looked down at the flyer. Most of it was taken up by a color picture of a green, blonde haired girl dressed in an off the shoulder turquoise T-shirt and a gold pendant in the shape of the word “Boom!” She read over the text under the picture. MISSING! FIRECRACKER BURST She is 18 years old, 6 feet tall, blonde hair, green eyes. Last seen outside the Paddock Hills Apartment Complex Please call if you have any information. Tempest frowned. It was difficult to imagine a six foot tall teenage girl disappearing like that without a trace. It also made her wonder why Beachberry had pointed her in this direction. Tempest folded up the flyer and put it in her inside jacket pocket. She pulled out her phone and added another entry to her list of leads: Who is Firecracker Burst? Sunset wiped down the recently vacated table in her section and took the rag back to the busing station. She tossed it in the hamper and tightened the puffer fish shaped elastic holding her hair up. It was nice being back at work after so long. She would have preferred to be on nights this weekend, especially since Saturdays were date nights for a lot of people in town, which meant much better tips, but Koi Pond, the restaurant owner, had insisted that Sunset take days on the weekends for the next couple of weeks. “You've been in the hospital, Sunset,” the older woman had said when Sunset had called Koi to let her know she was available for work again. “I want you to take it easy for a bit. If this weekend goes okay, I'll put you down for Friday night next week. If that works out, I'll put you back on your usual schedule.” Sunset had reluctantly agreed. While the money was better on nights, the lunch crowd hadn't been too bad so far. A few more tables over the course of the afternoon like the ones she'd had already and she'd make almost as much as she would have if she was working the night shift. She grabbed a glass of cola she'd put aside for herself and took a drink. Her mind wandered back to the night before and how she had blown up at Twilight. She sighed and put the drink down. She felt horrible about what happened. Not what she had said, because it was the truth. Twilight always let her quest for knowledge overtake her common sense, and this time it could have gotten her and their friends killed. On the way home the night before, Applejack said, while she still saw Sunset visiting Capper as a dangerous move, what Twilgiht had done was far more reckless and risky and Sunset had been right to call her out on it. But Sunset felt there was a better way she could have gone about getting that point across. She hated losing her temper with her friends. It always led to more trouble than it was worth. I better call her after work and see if she wants to talk, Sunset thought. Maybe we can come up with a better plan together on how to track this thing down now that some of us have actually seen it. “Sunset?” Koi had stuck her head into the small sectioned off area that comprised the busers' station. “One top, table eighteen.” “Thanks, Koi,” Sunset nodded. “I'm on it.” She pulled out her order pad and headed out into the main dining area. She put her concerns about Twilight in the back of her mind and smiled brightly as she approached the table. “Hi! Welcome to Sushi Paradise! What can I – “ Sunset cut herself off as she felt her throat suddenly constrict. She fought to keep the smile on her face as Tempest Shadow looked up from the menu. “I'll have an iced tea, please,” said the agent. “What are your specials today?”