//------------------------------//
// Obsidian and Sugar 
// Story: Hard Deadline 
// by libertydude 
//------------------------------//

Price waited about twenty minutes before he took off the costume. He thanked A.K. Yearling for her time, reviewing the promises they’d made to each other and the next step of the plan. Soon, her stop came into view and she hopped out onto the hot sidewalk. The banners covering the building in front of her billowed in the wind, and she gave Price a small wave before disappearing inside. 
What a pony, Price thought. Presented with a dangerous situation, and she still bucks up to help a stranger. Maybe she could’ve been a real adventurer.
“Driver,” Price said. “Grand Acres Building.” 
“You got it,” the cabbie grunted. 
They rode a fair distance in silence, only the cabbie’s trots and the passing carts’ wheels squeaking on the asphalt. Logistics and plan reviews rolled through Price’s head all the way to the tall and unassuming Grand Acres Building gradually coming into view. A bland grey structure covered with glass, it was the kind of building ponies put up when they were more concerned with the things going inside the building than the building itself. 
Once Price exited and threw the cabbie his fee, he took a deep breath. “Here we go,” he said. He walked into the lobby, up to the front desk where a bored looking secretary sat.
“Hello, I’m here to see a Miss Sugar,” Price said.
The secretary pushed a button. “She said somepony was coming. She’s up in the penthouse,” she said in a dull monotone.
Price nodded and made his way onto the elevator. He pushed the top button, then watched the doors close. 
Better hope this is a good idea, he thought on the ride up. Baltimare isn’t where I wanted to die.
The elevator dinged and the doors soon opened. Standing there was Sugar, though she now looked far different. Her mane now sat propped up in a neat bun and her coat practically shone in the afternoon light streaking through the windows.
“Hello,” she said. “Thank you for coming.”
Price nodded and stepped into the penthouse. Golden decorations lined the walls, with a white tile floor and brown walls surrounding the enclosed space. A few statues and figures stood artistically positioned throughout the room, posed in strange positions Price wasn’t even going to try figuring out.
“Drink?” she said.
“No, thanks,” he said.
“I’m going to have one.” She rushed over toward the bar and began downing already-poured glasses.
“You were right,” Price said, trying not to stare at the display. “Something big was going down at that warehouse.”
She put the glass down. “What do you mean?”
“Johnny was meeting with somepony named Vice. He was selling Johnny some obsidian orbs.”
“Oh Celestia.” She immediately took another drink.
“I know. I thought the same thing.”
“I knew something bad was happening…but nothing like that.”
Price leaned forward. “I don’t know much about Johnny Trottelli, nor much about you. But based on your demeanor and this place of yours, I’m going to guess you know Johnny pretty well?”
She nodded. “I’m his sister.”
“Makes sense. Only a sister or a marefriend would’ve been able to weasel that kind of information.” He leaned back on the chair. “Johnny been treating you mean? That why you want to expose him?”
“N-No! I….” She looked down into her empty glass. “I just wanted to stop him before he hurts himself.”
Price nodded. “Concern. A noble reason. But you’re scared Johnny will find out, aren’t you?”
She nodded.
“You really think he’d hurt his own sister?”  
She paused for a moment. She moved her mouth in strange motions, as if trying to find the right words. “I-“
“Of course she is,” a voice called out. “Why else would she go behind my back?”
Price looked behind himself to see Johnny standing there, decked out in a bright blue suit. Sock and Morrow stood beside him with humongous grins and yellowed brass lining their hooves.
“Johnny!” Sugar squeaked. “What’re you doing here?”
“My name’s on the lease, Sugar. I bought the place, I can come here whenever I want.” He walked past Price and towards Sugar. Price tried to get between them, but Sock and Morrow pushed him into a nearby chair. 
Johnny stopped in front of Sugar. She flinched as he brought his hoof to her face.
“Mother always said you had the beauty in the family,” he said. He raised his hoof and smacked her across the face, sending her sprawling onto the floor. 
“Don’t-!” Price yelled, before Sock shoved him back into the chair and Morrow pinned him.
“But not the brains. You really think I wouldn’t figure out you were the one who squealed to Journo Boy over there?” Johnny turned toward Price and chuckled. “Dames. Have no respect for you even when you do everything for them.” He motioned toward his laid out sister. “Take Sugar. I bought her a nice penthouse, gave her fancy clothes, even gave her some tips on how to score dates with the real cool guys. And what do I get for it?”
“A lot of trouble, it seems,” Price said.
Johnny laughed. “You’re good, fella. You know the right wavelengths to be on.” His eyes leered toward Price’s chest and the camera hanging around his neck. “What channel am I on now?” 
“You want the camera.”
“Bright boy,” he said. He jerked his hoof, and Sock reached for the camera. Price slapped his hoof, then felt a crack across his head. He fell out of the chair and onto the nearby leather couch. 
“Don’t do that, son,” Sock said, tugging the camera off Price’s neck. He then raised it high in the air and smashed it to the ground.



“No!” Price yelled. Morrow threw another punch right into his stomach, and Price curled into a ball.
Johnny chortled. “Not so tough without evidence, eh?”
“Johnny…” Sugar’s soft voice whispered. “Please. Please stop…”
Johnny gave a wry chuckle. “Sugar, you don’t get to tell me a thing. You betrayed me, all for some dumb attack of conscience. Well, this is the result.” He turned back toward Price, still curled on the couch. “You’ll walk it off, friend. Especially since the worst stuff is to come.”
Price pushed himself up. “You won’t get away with this,” he grunted.
“Of course I will!” Johnny laughed. “I own this town. Not a single hood nor cop in Baltimare moves a hoof without my say-so. I can dispose of you in places ponies would never dream of looking. Heck, I could keep you alive in some dungeon for a hundred years and nopony would ever know you were there.” He walked over to the drinks and began to pour his own. “You may not believe me, but I’ve heard of you before, Mr. Back.”
Price laughed. “Surprised you do. Only the honest know who I am.”
“The honest, and the smart dishonest.” Johnny turned around, drink in hoof. “Always know who your enemies are if you want to get ahead in this world. And never underestimate them either. You may be just another muckraker for some rag I wouldn’t even use as toilet paper, but you could still cause me trouble.”
Price sighed. “I get the feeling this ‘trouble’ doesn’t go away with just a smashed camera.”
“Right you are. You know too much, as does my dear sister. I’m afraid you’ll be going on a very long trip.”
Sock and Morrow chuckled. Price looked down at the ground, a dejected look on his face.
“Don’t take it so hard,” Johnny said. “Out of all the enemies I’ve made in this business, you’re the first that even gave me something close to a start. And with just a little camera and a little ingenuity.”
“Well, you’re right about the ingenuity part.”
Johnny laughed. “I thought you heroes were supposed to be humble right before you meet your doom. Some writer you are; you don’t even know the basic tropes.”
“On the contrary.” Price looked him dead in the eyes. “I’ve followed them to the letter, and far better than you have.”
Johnny’s face filled with confusion. “What?”
“You really think I’d be dumb enough to carry around evidence like that in an easily breakable camera? You smashed the camera, but not the film, now safely tucked away in a safety deposit box.”
Johnny’s face fell. “What?”
Price grinned. “The second three months passes by without any contact from me, I will be declared legally dead, and my will dictates that the box’s contents be sent to my editor. You’ll prolong your discovery, yes, but you won’t eliminate it forever.”
For a moment, a hint of rage filled Johnny’s face. But just as quickly as it appeared, his visage filled with its original tranquility. 
“You’re good,” he said. “But you didn’t hide it away in some safety deposit box. You left it somewhere in that Convention Center. That’s the one place my men haven’t been able to search thoroughly.”
To Johnny’s surprise, Price smiled back. “You’re half-right. I am lying about the safety deposit box, and the convention does play a role in this story. But you’re wrong about where I hid it.”
“Keep saying that, friend. I’ll search that Center, and when I find the film, I’m going to toss you and my sister off one of the buildings I own. In broad daylight, too. You can’t bluff your way out of this one.”
Price shook his head. “Wrong again. Because I already bluffed my way out of this.”
“Huh?”
“Why do you think I’ve been sitting here talking with you? To plead for my life? Or to keep you from noticing the elevator filled with officers about to exit on this level?”
Johnny’s eyes went wide. Before he even had a chance to speak, the elevator dinged and a dozen officers rushed out.
“Freeze!” they shouted. “You’re all under arrest!”
“Stand down!” Johnny yelled. “I pay your pen-!” He was slammed to the ground by two of the officers, as were Sock and Morrow. Price simply leaned back on the couch, a faint smile crossing his countenance.
“What’re you-?!” Johnny began, but stopped when he saw their uniforms: Golden armor covered with blue markings.
“The Royal Guard!” he exclaimed, mouth agape.
“That’s right,” one of them said. “And we’re here to take you in.”
“You can’t do this!” he said. “This is beyond your jurisdiction!”
“Wrong once more, Johnny,” Price chimed. “It’s illegal to deal with weapons expressly forbidden by royal decree. While the list is small, one of those weapons are obsidian orbs.” He motioned toward the Guards. “These fellows have all the right in the world to be here. And I can guarantee that they’re far less lenient than your cronies in this town.”
“But…But…” Johnny couldn’t spit anything else as he and his goons were dragged to the elevator. He could only glance back in confusion at Price, his eyes filled with befuddled rage. Price waved playfully at him as the doors closed.
“Thanks for your help, Captain,” Price said to the lead Guard. He wore a bright red feather in his helmet, distinguishing him from his blue-feathered compatriots.
“No, thank you, Mr. Back,” the Captain said. “We had no idea Vice and Trottelli were dealing with obsidian orbs. They could’ve caused a lot of damage if their goods made it out on the street.”
“I figured. I’m just happy Ms. Yearling was able to get that film to your local headquarters in time.”
“I will confess, we were surprised to see a world famous author come into our office with news of highly dangerous weapons.” He chuckled. “Didn’t stop Cloud Kicker from asking for an autograph.”
“Hey, I had a rare collection of Daring Do and Trotezuma’s Revenge!” a tan Guard shouted. “You take opportunities as they’re presented!”
“Anyways,” the Captain continued, “thank you for this information, Price Back. If you ever need any help in the future, feel free to contact the Royal Guard any time. We’re in your debt.”
Price held up his hoof. “Thanks, but I was just doing my job like you.” He looked toward Sugar, who now sat up with the help of a Royal Guard. She had ice to her chin and held a thankful gaze toward Price. 
“Well, if you change your mind, you know where to go. At least join us for a drink at O’Neigh’s before you skip town.” 
Price nodded. “Sure thing. But there’s a few things I have to take care of first.”