Much like the rats scurrying along a sewer, Cobalt Coral and her trusted comrade, Cornfield, navigated stealthily through Baltimare’s infrastructure in a hurry back to their hole in the wall. While her friend retained his appearance, Coral, on the other hoof, came equipped with a wide brim hat, a long trench coat, and sunglasses. Ironically, wearing heavy clothing in the middle of a late summer’s noon only served to attract an increasingly wary crowd. If her identity was compromised, no doubt half of Baltimare’s force would show up in droves, so she’d rather remain sweating her feathers off, than risk arrest.
Thankfully for her, the young colt escorting her was boiling over with anger, and grinding his teeth. The seemingly permanent scowl could hardly fit on his face and harshly shooed nosy strangers away, respecting his body language to steer clear from the fury he packed. Sensing his escalated tension, the concerned hippogriff took thoughtful measures by asserting her companionship in him and lightly massaging his back with her claws. She knew whatever distressed his mind, she held the responsibility. “Easy,” the soothing words left her beak. “Let’s just go back to the safehouse and wait for our instructions and supplies.” The sweat dripping like a leaky faucet ruffled her feathers, as she yanked the collar of her coat. “Geez. I feel like I’m in a sauna...”
His jaw stumbled, while his whole body began to shake, “I... I’m... I’m gonna kill that motherbucker…” Looking into his heart, he witnessed himself and Coral’s former boss, Electric Boogaloo, locked foreleg-to-foreleg, before suddenly the orange unicorn’s neck received the broken end of a liquor bottle, promoted with the colt’s hoof, as blood flushed away the scene. “Bucking bastard...Whatever it takes…”
“Trust me, Cornfield, not before I do. But, we need to play his little game first. I free myself from him, then we figure something out later.”
While Coral avoided the death gaze he’s throwing at passerby, he sincerely asked once he noticed the abused gem hunter keep pace, “How hard is it to steal that gold trophy?”
Feigning ignorance, she playfully hummed aloud and shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know. How hard is it to steal a diamond? What about the Puppy Peridot? Or many other gems I’ve stolen? Ooh, here’s a good one!” She tapped the gemstone lodged invasively in her chest through the heavy fabric. “How hard is it to steal The Heart of Nature?”
“Well, compared to the ones you’ve just listed, this will be in a public place. As a matter of fact, that could make this even trickier.” The next step he took on the sidewalk was so heavy, he swore he left a crack behind him. “Shit! We’ve been really dealt a bad hand this time!” Cornfield should have been frightened, even in his now more experienced state. However, seeing his best, most founded friend suffer from the hooves of scumbag goons and overrated tyrants pushed him so far beyond his eternal being. He’d carry the burden to his grave. At this point, he would without thinking, destroying himself, if it meant substance for revenge.
Indications that the long trip home would soon reach its end, Coral watched their backs on the way down the alley, making sure nopony followed. At the door, she gripped the knob as Cornfield mindlessly followed like a lost lamb. Then, she called out to him. “Hey, Cornfield?”
The mental lights suddenly switched on, no longer distracted by murder and responded with an eriee calmness. “...Uh... Yes, Coral?”
“It’s comforting to know that you are worried about me. It’s been an awful long time since anypony has done that. However...” Turning her head strongly to him, she zeroed in on his pupils while slyly pulling her sunglasses down to highlight her wink and confident smile. “I’m a pro at this. As long as you cover my flank, I can pull it off.” She lifted the cheap shades off her beak and lodged it in her coat pocket, then opened the door for a welcoming gesture.
As she waited patiently for him to enter, his eyes once again dared to enter her very soul. He couldn’t resist the thoughts of her pathetic submission, writhing on the floor, lusting for mercy from her tormentor. It scrambled his emotions, his rationality, as he so desired in holding steadfast to the things he believed in. For such defilement, the tolerance of their existence was vilified in his judgement, and he would go as far as the ends of space and time to seek their destruction. Then, in the prelude of an awkward silence, he submerged himself into their humble residence.
The holdup sparked her curiosity, yet she hastily excused its sudden occurrence as nerves and followed suit while lugging off her heavy clothing. Finally settling in with the door shut, she did her best to make their home away from home soothe aching emotions sustained from conflict. “You know what I just realized the moment I stepped inside?” she quizzed as she reanimated shadows dancing across the walls with a lit lantern nestled on the table.
Hardly tolerating her insistent monitoring or possibly the rare occasion of vital insight, he revloved his head from a corner that light failed to tread into a receiving position. “What is it, Coral?” he spoke readily.
“I’m starving.” She reached to pat her own growling stomach in an effort of lightening up today’s tragedies. “I forgot what fear does to make you lose your appetite.”
The ambush of her uncharacteristic dialogue suddenly rocked him out of his adrenaline fueled rage, but not entirely. “Ah! Yes! We haven’t actually eaten all this time. I’m sorry, Coral. It’s just... Been one of those days... Haha…” He rubbed his neck, his fur resisted the pressure of his hoof, testifying just how tense he got. Despite blowing over dark clouds, he couldn’t shake off the threat of Electric’s massive puppet mastery, lingering diabolically in the recesses of his mind.
“Well, what did you pick up at the store? Touristy crap? Because I could go for anything at this point.” She nested her tall, slender body comfortably on her blankets and laid on her side, facing present company.
“I’m sorry, Coral. It’s not like we have an oven, so I just got...well…” Flapping open his nearby saddlebag, a multicolored pile of labelled bags spilled onto the cold floor surface. “The food is just things like whole enriched corn chips, fried kelp snacks, and some candy. Hardly anything that a nutritionist recommends.”
“You act like that’s the worst thing I’ve eaten in my life. Dibs on the kelp snacks.”
“Still... we’ll need more food later on. I think nuts might be good.” His eyes widened, thinking he said something outlandishly stereotypical as he back-pedalled. “Not just because you’re a bird, but…”
She waved her talons dismissively, motioning him to chill out. “It’s still better than nothing.” She swiped a bag at the summit of processed consumables and pulled its top apart. “Trust me, this is a far cry from panhandling in the streets of Kludgetown. Never again.”
“Please tell me these goons are the last of your history that we must worry about. I’d hate to walk into Mount Aris only to go through that song and dance again... almost literally!” He shook his muzzle with forehead in hoof, as the band’s performance reenacted in his subconscious.
“I mean, I can enjoy a little jazz here and there, but even that exhibition barely qualified as ‘amatuer’.” Emphasizing the sarcasm, he curled up his hooves.
She let loose a brief laugh before continuing.”No no no. Baltimare was the first and last time I tried organized crime. Also, don’t worry about that desolate garbage community hole-in-the-sand I mentioned before. They would most definitely kill me on sight anyway.” She traced a sharp talon across her neck as she spoke. “They are not very keen on thieves, especially young street urchins.”
“So then, no special quest gems we need to collect while we’re here?”
“Nope!” She reached in the bag for a clawful of kelp chips and greedily scarfed them down, savoring the zesty flavor of sour cream and onion powders. “Mmm, when you stare death in the face for so long, suddenly everything tastes so good,” she talked with her mouth partially obstructed before covering it and swallowing whole, in lieu of grace. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be. I’m just glad you’re alive. But... Correct me if I’m wrong, we’re gonna have to do something about these criminals before we leave, aren’t we?”
“I’m just hoping to do the favor, get my name cleared of the crimes I DIDN’T do, and get a freaking boat! We’ll settle them later.”
A light pounding on the door startled them both, then an utterance of the phrase: “You steal the sun, you steal the shadows”. The pitter-patter of hooves scrambling away; sounds of somepony galloping rapidly away reverberated throughout.
“Good, that’s our stuff,” said Coral as she set down her precious junk food to answer the delivery.
“Yeah,” Cornfield sighed, his secure conscious violated to have someone from the Onyx Syndicate breathing down their necks. “But now they know our hideout!”
“I know. We’ll worry about relocation later.” She creaked open the door revealing a box that answered her requested supplies lying outside. Urgently, she yanked it inside, shut themselves in, and slid it over to curious Cornfield. The box opened up as she rummaged through the contents. “Let’s see...” She continuously rattled around the items inside, almost fraught with anticipation to get started. It was just like old times. Times where she felt a rush of excitement during the planning phases of each heist.
“I’m guessing it includes the weed thing?”
“Whisperweed, yes.” One by one, Coral removed and laid out each item, properly organized to improve comprehensive presentation. “Blueprints of the hotel where Mayor Mare is staying at, whisperweed, glass-cutters, oh, and they threw in some binoculars like I requested! Good. These are pretty decent, too.” After setting the optics down softly, an electrically charged stamp of a saxophone highlighted some folded letter clipped into the corner of said blueprint. Upon opening, its message assembled in various paper clippings read “Mayor Mare is holding a press conference at 3 pm. Get your spotter to find her room.”
After fiddling with each item in detail, Cornfield examined the piece of stationery left by his thieving feathered friend on the ground. Accused of being powerless in its context got the colt down on his hocks, pouting with his forelegs crossed. “Ugggghhh... I HATE being this guy’s puppet!”
“More like sock-puppet. How do you think I feel?” She pinched the odd plant delicately between her digits. “Ok, so, do you know how whisperweed works?”
He wouldn’t let her squirm her way out of this one any longer. It was time she confessed what she did. “Excuse me? I didn’t decide to band with some crooks for my own gain!”
Coral just froze as a deer stunned by bright light. Her eyebrows and crests drooped slightly while the loose weed gracefully descended like paper onto the blueprints. The rock that kept her emotions stabilized just prosecuted her. “...What?”
“All I’m saying is we’re dealing with your consequences, Coral!” The hippogriff under the burning spotlight flinched hard from the accusing damage of his attack! Angrily, he shot up and patrolled across the ground like he was some kind of infantry pony, not dignifying her with facial acknowledgement. “This is all because you had to enlist among an unforgiving vicious mafia!”
“Oh, my gosh...” The palm of her talons formed a web on her face. Suddenly, Cornfield was behaving as nasty as the very enemies that held a knife over their heads and, of all things, he chose this dishonorable opportunity where she was most vulnerable. “Cornfield, I’m sorry that you had to be dragged into this. But, you were so forgiving of my lifestyle when I told that I did what I had to do to survive! I felt like I had no other choice!”
“Oh sure, it’s easy to say ‘You had no choice’!” he sassed in a condescending tone. “But now, our lives hang in the balance! This is what happens when you side with criminals!” He stopped to socially knock her down a peg and point his hoof in judgment. “Are you proud of yourself?!”
After the sting of her trusted companion’s accusation sank in, she closed her eyes into spontaneous meditation before puffing out her feathery chest. “You know what, Cornfield? You’re right. I have made mistakes in my life. Joining the Onyx Syndicate was DEFINITELY one of them.” Stepping forward without adherence to his point-blank presence, she hardened her expression and resolve. “But you know what? I’m proud of who I am. And you wanna know why? Because I’ve been dealt the shittiest hand I could never dream of in my wildest nightmares, and I’m still MOVING FORWARD!” Her voice steadily rose as she strongly laid down a definitive justification, “I’ve shown that despite having my family slaughtered before my eyes, ostracized from Seaquestria, almost killed in Kludgetown, and left ALONE for the better part of my life, I will never give up!”
“B-b-b-b-but...” The weapon to counter her return fire was nowhere, the subject of her deceased relatives vanquished any meagering criticisms he had prior. “I just have to know, why didn’t you look for an alternative?” He backpedaled away from the swiping range of her sharp avian talons, asking the most pressing query. “Why resort to stealing?!”
“It’s because-!” Just as she flowed into her own twisted reasoning, the logic cut her off. It suddenly dawned on her she had never really attempted an honest living. Softly, her anger and voice diminished as she looked deep inside her own soul. “It’s because it’s all I ever knew to do.”
Her hindlegs gave way, plummeting her rear back down. Being a thief of professional caliber taught her never to show weakness, especially in front of the small young stallion. The hemorrhaging sorrow densely shrouded her heart and her tears leaked like water through a brittle crack of a dam. She recalled what led her down such a destructive road, which bore permanent scars that could never properly closed. Ever since Cornfield became ensnared in her career, the open wounds threatened to undergo a rebirth, and so the pain of her tormented spirit spilled everywhere.
“Ever since I was left stranded on the cold dark world to float aimlessly above the ocean’s surface,” she disclosed with a shaky voice, “I felt lost. More lost than I ever felt when my parents had died. I was young. Maybe half your age. A lot of skills I developed were what taught myself in desperate situations…” In her selfish disgrace, the passage of the tale resumed while she was drawn to the dipliated floor. “...And I’ve been living that way ever since, dodging the detours from a path that’s kept me alive.”
Cornfield picked apart her testimony for the truth while respecting the rationalization that her survival persisted against the odds. At the same time, the contradictions of moral alignment begged a certain question. He stood solid in place on a higher standpoint and proclaimed, “You should have seen when you could have prevented your own undoing. Do you resolve to fix what you started?”
The hippogriff sat wrapped in her forelegs, agonized by the selfish harm she commited. “I want to fix things, Cornfield. That’s why I’m searching for the Gems of Creation. Not just to right my wrongs, but the horrid acts done by others as well.”
He stomped his hoof in cold ignorance of her feelings, blinded by his black-and-white sense of justice. “You could’ve prevented this! And you chose to pilfer others for yourself?!”
“I could…” The room hung still in cold silence before she kept her thoughts pumping. “I could’ve also went back to being a slave before being a thief. I could’ve gone back to not steal the pearl to turn back into a hippogriff. I could’ve gone back and obeyed my queen.” Tears were pouring from her face, her beak quivering as it pointed at her feet. “It doesn’t matter now. I did what I did, and I do hope to fix it...” She reenabled eye-contact sorrowfully, but the flowing water down her cheeks was perpetual. “I just hope you understand what I went through to resort to that...”
“Coral…” Like a candlewick bursting into flames on its own, he suddenly realized the reality of the situation that they were prisoners of. Even though he denounced her lifestyle choices, she did them because no creature would beget a charitable hoof upon her. No matter where she found herself in, the cruel world forced her to capitalize on the needs of survival, which henceforth forced a required direction. That being putting herself before the relative desires of others just for a passage in mere existence. “...I’m…” He wept as he approached her and placed his hoof sweetly on her shoulder. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have gone so far! We’re here now. And that’s ok.”
At first, she was reluctant to accept his gesture. The only possibility for her distraught remorse flourishing was Cornfield shoving a corrosive vindication overwhelming her conscious. Yet, she didn’t neglect the truth that he was caught in the middle. The path to redemption meant disposing the corrupt zeitgeist haunting these two unlucky travelers in a quest to change the world. She cupped his comforting hoof on her shoulder. “Yeah. Yeah, it’s ok. We’re ok...” After he granted her some space, Coral regained her confidence as she wiped the water off her cheek. “Cornfield...?” He stopped in place, wondering what else was on her mind. “Thank you… You are one of the only ponies I ever opened up to.”
The young colt let out a whinny before blushing at her words. Coral’s eyes dried as she stood up once more and spread her claws on her jewel-embedded chest. “Before I met you, I felt myself becoming more and more distant with the world I grew up in,” she revered. “But, when I heard you cry, it made me realize I was going down a dark path. In a way, you saved me from that.”
He stood dumbstruck, heart fluttering with nothing to say. Although it’s been almost a week, he never imagined that he could have this much of an impact on some other creature before. And yet, here he was, unlocking the gates of her heart. “...Coral...” he spoke softly. “I…” Beating him to the punch was a claw gingerly across his mouth. No need to be the scared chick she held inside. It was time an adult showed up.
“One more heist, Cornfield.”
Forming a unison leveraging the misfit duo in the grander scheme of things, the young photographer resolved to swear a covenant with his friend. “...Ok... But just promise me one thing in return…”
“Of course. What is it?”
He responded by locking down on her view coldly with murderous intent. “When the time is right, you’re gonna help me kill Electric!” he announced in fiery vigor. “I can’t get to him myself. But, together, surely we can bring him to justice!”
The onslaught of pure hatred utterly stunned Coral, pupils shrinking while her brain drummed up a vibrant demonstration vividly confined powered through imagination. Where did he acquire a taste for blood enduring their adventures as she knew him to be the innocent and naive colt? The onset of his change brought mental turmoil, and she soon wished he’d stay within the bubble of his insecurities. For him to show these guts argued that presently he was better off a child. Taking a deep breath, she articulated the answer reserved inside herself and sternly rehearsed, “I’m a thief. Not a murderer, Cornfield. I’ve never killed before and I’m not starting now.”
“Please!” It was now the colt’s turn to plead for sympathy on behalf of his postulation. “After what happened to you... I just... I can’t let him live!”
Coral backed off, assuming that, in his naivety of the real world, he wasn’t familiar by nature under pressure of a force with such magnitude. It wasn’t just about wanton brutality this time. Instead it was the ploy, influence, and circumstances conspiring against them both. Desperate times called for desperate measures, and she chalked it up to immaturity when push came to shove, as it most certainly did. “I’m not saying we should let him get away with this, either! If there is any creature I could willingly kill to save my country, it’s Lord Whirlwind. Electric Boogaloo does deserve justice, but...” No matter what, she could never place herself in a position to promote homicidal antics, her head shaking in disapproval.
A stalemate cleary befell them here. He could confirm if he were to become victorious, it would be without her aid and possibly left alone. Coral would abandon him for exhuming the ghost of Electric. Having so much wrath built up in him, it was overflowing any controllable effort at a level that prevented his anger from softening his heart. Concealing his eyes watering bitter sadness into the air, he jerked away. “Well, anyway! How hard could it possibly be? We just gotta break into the hotel guarded by royal security, trespass into a city council member’s secured quarters, and rob the most coveted prize of the city’s holiday! What could go wrong?” His tone deceived his diminishing confidence, followed up by a hollow chuckle, fearing the reality of the mystified future.
“Nothing bad will happen to you only if you follow my lead. Now, do you know what whisperweed is?”
Wiping his face with a single sweep of his foreleg, Cornfield put minimal effort into looking right at her; inelegantly disguising the raw tears protruding down his fur. “No. What is it?”
Once more, she presented the flora; two small white bell-shaped flowers dangled at the top. After gingerly plucking one bell, she stuck it in her ear, the open petals expanding outward. “If two creatures wear a bell from the same whisperweed in their ear, they can hear and speak to each other speak from a great distance. It’s a very useful tool for communication.”
He looked at her awkwardly. “Oh? Like some kind of microphone?”
“Right. Now then...” She invited Cornfield to join her in studying the blueprints of a large building. After they both got comfortable, she planted a claw on the paper and tapped important sections to help him follow along.
As the blazing sun overlooked the citizens scurrying about, many photo ponies and journalists in Baltimare were collectively bursting out their competitive publishing companies for a chance to meet their intensive quota. Their destination: Oceanview Suites, a stunning establishment for their clientele, geared for the rich and famous, to kick back and relax in a luxury home, away from home. The towering building stretched into the skyline, with white marbled stone and streaks of gold on the edges of the doors and windows ensured its majesty. Accompanying the immediate vicinity was a luscious garden, lining the outer walls with green, healthy bushes. Fields of colorful flowers complimented two fountains articulated a concrete pathway to the main entrance.
However, while the unsuspecting herd of noisy paparazzi trotted by, minding their own business, a wriggling vine emerged onto the sidewalk from the canopy of the alleyway. It laid unseen for unsuspecting prey to tread on its territory. Much to the horror of one unfortunate stallion, the volatile plant stem instantly latched onto his mouth, gagging his screeching snout shut. Then, even more vines whisked him away as his muffled cries of panic died out in the prevailing darkness.
“Cornfield, that tip said that Mayor Mare was going to a press conference outside of the hotel,” Coral reminded him, long before their mission began. “How proficient are you as a photo-journalist with that camera of yours?”
“I always get my snaps... save for that one time on the rock farm… Haha…” Combined with his own camera and the whisperweed implanted in his ear, the tools of deception, espionage, and thievery had secured his role in the mission.
“Put those on,” the hippogriff barked as she tossed a white suit, red tie, and green coat close to falling through his surprised forelegs. “You are from the Baltimare Tribunal. Remember that. I’ll make sure that this pony is unharmed and secure.” She ended with a phrase that was crafted for calming her hostage, and coaxing him into cooperating.
Clearing his throat so obvious even a cavepony could see it, he summoned within his best impression he imagined of a fast-talking, hard-hitting member of the press. “Baltimare Tribunal!” he announced, like he suddenly knew what he was doing for a change. Getting up close and personal with Coral, he asked “Ma’am! Is it true that you, a hippogriff, said yaks are more like overgrown hairy dogs pretending to be civilized creatures?”
“Gasp and horror!” She poorly acted like his words put her in a corner. “That is a bold-faced LIE. I said griffons were dogs, not yaks!” They laughed as their liberal-minded tied-up guest rolled his eyes at the insulting mockery of “professional” journalism. “Convincing. Now, remember, after the press event is done, follow her, and ask for a personal interview. Get ruthless and get out there!”
“No problem! Sneaking is what I do best. Especially with my camera in hoof.” The colt saluted her as his boy scout side was showing, a contrasting revelation of his true innocent nature in this dark place. With that, he sallied onward, committed to the task entrusted in him. Cornfield shifted into the gang of photo-happy journos eager to rip and tear each other apart for the first shots. The pack of hyenas in pony fur quickly assimilated with the busy audience of an epic stage, effectively set up in a clearing before the gardens. Mayor Mare dominated the podium, surrounded by camera flashes, with the rest of the other officials from neighboring cities listening to her speak.
Suddenly, the flower in his ear reverberated the voice of his hippogriff confidant. “Take a few pictures and act like a journalist. Remember: no butt shots.”
“Very funny, Coral.” Cornfield subtly remarked back. “You know, I used to like the mayor. Then, I found out she sold a special range of hills by the Everfree Forest to some ‘Special Canterlot Garden Club!’” Instinctively, he curled his hooves while mockingly addressing the haughty organization. “Bucking sellout…” With repeated clicks, he wasted no time in snapping some photos as the politician dove into her pompous speech.
Minutes seemed to convert into hours, the mayor really packed tons of fluff in her wordy texts. “...And with that,” Mayor Mare finally concluded, “may I be the first pony to say ‘Let’s go grow!’ Any questions?”
The crowd murmured to themselves as fields of hooves propped up.
“Cornfield!” the whisperweed rang. “I’m on top of one of the buildings nearby. The blueprint says there’s a trapdoor behind the building that goes to the basement.”
“You sure they won’t just let me waltz in after the Mayor?” he asked softly.
“Definitely. This isn’t a public hotel, remember? But, the Mayor has such a fondness for attention that she’s sure to invite you if you run into her as she heads inside.”
Nonchalantly, he weaved through the dense audience in the direction of the hotel, lightly brushing ponies aside like he was on official business. Giving the event a wide berth, he snuck around until he found himself behind the building. Spotting the wooden trapdoor obscured by the lawn, he pried the latch, swung it open, and plunged himself inside without a second thought. His heart was in his throat when he found himself freefalling downward, but landed on a pile of soft delicate clothes in line for the wash.
“You in?” Coral queried.
“Yeah!” her spotter proclaimed awfully full of pride. “And boy, did I hit jackpot baby! There’s gotta be a week’s worth of mare’s dirty laundry I just landed in!”
“Gross! And yet, it’s strangely good to see you back out of your funk!”
“What funk?”
“Nevermind. I’m just glad you’re doing ok. Head up, pronto. The crowd seems to be dispersing.
Take the stairs out of the basement and wait for her to waltz inside the main lobby.”
Mischievously, the pervert stuffed a pretty red thong down his journalist’s pocket. Then, he conscientiously climbed a set of stairs and pushed the door slightly with his eyes peeled.
Peeking through the visible gap in the door, he marked a few guards and a maidspony passing by, turning a corner, and going their separate ways.
“Wow, this place sure looks fancy, Coral,” he noticed. The glorious decor adorning the halls were astounding on their own. Many fancy paintings dotted the walls between doors with distinguished regal furniture to rest on and soft patterned carpet to trot on top of. If this is what being a prince is like, any homesickness rapidly evaporated in the country stallion.
“Nothing but the best for the rich and the famous, I suppose. Must be nice to have life so easy.” Then, a gasp rushed out of his lookout’s beak. “She’s coming in now! Get to her, quick!”
He surged into the main lobby. A heavy and expensive chandelier hung above as a mare penetrated through the swivel entrance and past the front desk. It was the Ponyville mayor herself, trotting along and ascending the pure marble stairs that welcomed visitors to the elevator system. Acting in excess paranoia, he made fast sure nopony watched as he stealthily hugged along the walls, tailing his target. Then, an unexpected staff pony urgently pushed forward from behind a corridor. Mayor Mare had narrowly avoided a collision and her glasses fell from her recoiling snout in reflex onto the carpet. “Oh dear! My glasses!” she exclaimed as the employee went along without skipping a beat.
Nearing the top of the stairs, the innocent stallion beheld his objective in a compromising position. She had bent down to pick them up, unconsciously swinging her backside slightly. The easy offer before him was absolutely tempting, as her backside was literally on a silver platter for a snap. The angle, the disguise, the camera. Her rump was asking to be framed in all of its glory and added to his posterior trophy collection. “Ah,” he muttered with his hooves quivering. “Coral… she’s right in front of me… ASS FIRST!”
“Cornfield!” she quickly blurted out, praying her stern tone would cease him. “You can either take a picture of her butt or save my life. You can’t have both and I’ll never forgive you if you pick the former.”
The incognito journalist was sweating like crazy, bordering the lines of putting the mission in dear jeopardy. Then, the esteemed mayor reassigned her glasses on her nose and brushed herself off of the rash encounter. “There, that’s better.” The end of the sensation killed the mood, and he kept his bulge down the pants of another stallion.
“Damn you, Coral…” he cursed to the whisperweed. “I’m clear.”
“Good.” his flower responded with Coral’s positive acknowledgement. “If this all goes well and I’m free from Electric, I’ll pay you back with all the pictures of MY butt you can take!” After an awkward pause, she walked it back before he got any ideas. “Kidding. I’m kidding...”
Following close behind, he prowled like a wolf on the hunt as the VIP guest stood in standby for an oncoming elevator. The soothing tone of its glass cabin coming to a halt alerted him to pounce at a moment’s notice. The bell chimed for those of special privileges to step inside, as the mayor casually went forth without a second thought. Once the bell dinged again to signal departure, Cornfield slipped through the crack as quick as a whip, capturing his target with nowhere to go. Needless to say, the mayor was gobsmacked with ambushed surprised by his sudden arrival, shouting “Gah! Land’s sakes!”
“Good day, Madam Mayor!” he enthusiastically greeted with his overly-invasive paparazzi shtick. “Baltimare Tribune! I was wondering if you were available for an exclusive for our fine city?”
Mayor Mare eyed him up and down in cycles, flabbergasted on appropriate split-second reactions. The awkward moment had finally settled for a bit when it was safe to say the stranger had no ill intention to her physical state, she felt at ease. “You journalists are getting more and more bold every year.”
As they shared the exotic view reserved for owners of luxury in the elevator, Baltimare’s main capacity was appealing to the serenity of the skies. Its occupants gaining altitude, he then brought out his A-game with querying standard, non-offensive questions to fire endlessly. She answered them with ease as he wrote down her responses with his notebook, under the guise of authenticity.
After a timely arrival, Mayor Mare and her interviewer exited the elevator through a long hallway. “Well, Mister...”
“Cornfield, ma’am! Mind if I walk you to your room?”
Knowing only the life of chivalry and high class, she granted him the pleasure of accompanying her to the temporary space of dwelling. His endeavor lead to a finely polished wooden door. When he respected the room to be his goal, the stallion examined the number engraved on a golden plaque embossed on the door. He relayed the room number “1991”.
“Perfect!” the whisperweed hummed in gleeful cheer. “Get out and come back to the alley. Don’t forget, those interview answers are a tip for our little friend’s silence.”
Bidding the mayor farewell, he mindfully retraced his steps back until he was once again reunited with his friend, Coral. She then welcomed him back at the rendezvous point where they returned everything back to its rightful owner hostage and sent him on his way, unharmed albeit confused.
Time rolled on until the night’s shadowy blanket covered the city like a shroud. Above the many blocks condensed with central city living, on the platform of the tallest of towers, the bird burglar and her spotter kneeled upon anticipation. Baltimare’s infrastructure laid before them, and they peered over and gazed down the dizzying city streets. Cornfield’s eyes were strictly glued into the binoculars, scanning through windows and gardens of the ritzy hotel for patrolling security.
“Cornfield?” Coral stretched her feathers out, priming her wings for take-off. “How many ground patrols are there?”
“Just two intersecting each other.” he relayed back, watching their pattern of movement. “I think most of the guards are inside the hotel. If only they were female...”
“Perfect. Didn’t today make it all worthwhile?” Taking out a rolled-up blueprint out her saddlebags, she unfurled it to memorize the tacky layout of the rooms. “What floor is it on again?”
“The Nineteenth floor, Coral. Should I repeat it so your parrot instinct will remember FOR you?””
“With a building that big, there’s bound to be pegasi guards. Can you spot them?”
He scoped the higher floors of anything flying, wondering if her assumptions were correct. “Well, if they’re any more guards they’d probably be inside the room itself, because I’m not seeing anypony around here.
“All right. Let’s hope that the guards outside don’t look overhead, then.” Ready to soar, she perched herself on the edge, waiting for any signal to commit the crime. The spotter gave the nineteenth floor and neighboring floors a thorough scan. The barren halls occupied a couple guards, but they rounded a corner in their designated patrol routes. With the gardens left neglected, he raised his hoof as Coral was set for launch.
“Go,” he executed as he flung his hoof forward. The hippogriff leapt into the cool night air as her majestic wings synchronized with the wind, leaving behind a couple small feathers fluttering about. After a silent glide, she utilized her keen eagle eye to pinpoint the window of the mayor’s room. On approach, she graciously flapped her wings aiding a slow descent, lest she become the statistic of many birds in history slamming into glass as flat as a pancake. Then, when she leveled out her altitude, got out a glass cutting tool from her saddlebags. Cornfield watched from afar as she began her grand larceny.
“You think the room has security sensors?” her whisperweed buzzed in her ear.
“We’re about to find out if these windows are enchanted or not...” Carefully tracing a circle with an irritating creak noise, she grafted a small circle in the pane. Plush carpeting softened the impact underneath after she shoved the glass in, letting it fall with a softened impact. Finally, her foreleg penetrated through, undoing the lock and opened the window to barely squeeze in. “I’m in!”
“Watch your step, Coral! In and out! Like you said!”
“Right. In and-” The door across the room swung out, sending worrying fears down Coral’s spine as she stared in horror. The striking golden armor signalled the telltale visage of a royal guard coming inside. Something however, was very off about the pony inside. He was rather small but familiar, and the white braided tail and black fur was a dead giveaway. “Y-YOU?!”
Finding an intruder inside the office pronounced confusion in the guard’s fragile hoofing, but the hippogriff’s appearance instinctively caused her back to arch with aggressive posture. “YOU?!”
“Coral?” The stallion had reverberated distress in her auditory cavity. “What is it? Coral? Answer me please!”
“What are YOU doing here?” the avian interrogated, pointing a hostile claw in the rivaling perpetrator’s face.
“Stealing the trophy you birdbrain!” the black mare snapped with her hoof back but, in actuality, her innate greedy hoof pointed at the golden trophy. “You?”
“I’m here to do the same, and I came here first! Piss off!”
“I could arrest you with this getup. Maybe I should after you put me in the trash!”
Cornfield only picked up bits and pieces through the whisperweed, but that statement spelled out the third party loud and clear. “Shit!” he cursed in silence. “Did Electric just screw us over?”
“Not before I send you there again,” Coral threatened. “I’m not going to let Electric have my head!”
Mentioning the notorious mob boss jabbed some blight into the second thief’s comprehension. She cocked her head, requiring clarification with “Wait, he’s gonna do what?”
“If I don’t get that trophy, he’s going to kill me.” The hippogriff enunciated each word slowly for an impactful delivery. “My collar is going to choke me dead at midnight.”
The black burglar observed her opponent’s neck, detecting the leather collar. “You mean that thing? I was told it’s just for tracking ponies!”
Silver took her helmet off, shaking her silvery white hair loosely around as it laid over one of her emerald green eyes. To Coral’s horror, the same collar had been locked around her throat as well. Glancing between the collars, which represented a deadly ultimatum, she suddenly pieced together the sick joke that left pawns to die in a game nopony wins. Yet Cornfield was still left out of the loop. “What’s going on Coral? ...Coral?”
The troubled avian cupped her ear in her claws to issue a direct order. “Cornfield, don’t go anywhere,” she coldly commanded as she tossed the flower in the bin.
“Buck… CORAL!!” The whisperweed drowned in the trash. It was the worst case scenario that she wasn’t expecting. The crime lord’s sadism was brought down on another, causing chaos that might end the life of one petty thief, but entertain the puppet master. Pacing distressfully around a government leader’s residence, the hippogriff’s thoughts overcame her as the mysterious and beautiful mare hung her head, gazing at the carpet, betrayed.
Then, gathering herself to discern a viable remedy of their conflicts, Coral did a pacifist approach at the cautious ebony mare, extending her claws for a truce. “So, you and me. Let’s get better acquainted. I’m Cobalt Coral. What’s yours?”
The dark outlaw reeled at the display of sudden friendliness, braced for any exploitative trickery. “WAIT!” she shouted. “How do I know I can trust YOU?!”
Taking the time to exert dominance over Silver’s bewilderment, she shelved those concerns and snapped her talons in commanding respect. “Because I’ve been doing this a lot longer than you have, hon. Electric is playing us for fools. I’d rather let you have the trophy then let another pony die in my stead. That’s honor among thieves.” Verbal bullshit poured from Coral’s beak like it was going outta style. Of course her needs were greater, but she and Cornfield needed all the help Equestria could offer.
Words of an offer for friendly support occured to the black burglar like an alien language. Come to think of it, she’s never actually met her temporary boss, Electric. Through highly viable connections contained the promises of riches beyond her wildest dreams. Instead, all four of her legs were contractually wrapped up within a befouling competition that fraudulently held no interests of her heart. If there stood an opportunity to secure the trophy and keep her neck, then it was worth dying for. “What exactly are you proposing?”
“I know enough about magic to know that when a unicorn dies, the active curses enchanting our collars die with him. I was hoping to take on another way, but he leaves us no choice.” She braced a moral bound conscience, cursing herself that Cornfield’s hatred could bear wicked fruit. “You, me, and a friend of mine. We got to kill him before midnight strikes.”
The only saving grace laid in her opponent, the mare considered it calmly inside a serious demeanor. “You’re saying we kill Electric, the collars won’t hurt us?”
“Exactly. We got one chance for us both to make it out alive.” Coral searched deeply for a mental stall in her palm, wallowing in absolute disbelief that murder would score a victory opposed on her ethical standing. Against an entirely unpredictable, insane, yet vicious unicorn brimming with curses and destructive spells, their only lingering hope was a suicidal chance of winning this fight. “I will be honest, it’s not a sure fire guarantee that we will live to see the sun rise. But…” Demonstrating the powers of Silver’s newfound ally, her claws perform its vine-transformation with thorns as sharp as forged sabers frothing at the stems. “I think I can take him on with these new tricks of mine.”
Silver detoured her attention at the sparkling golden trophy. It sat in a locked glass case overlooking the two, tempting Silver with its solid gold wealth, “Well…” The unicorn trotted almost hypnotically towards it. “Is it possible we can get... both?” The dashing rogue hinted with an assuring smile and a tap on the glass.
“If you got a plan, I’d love to see you put it into action.”
With the bird’s blessing, Silver inspected the case, mostly deducing what would bring it to an unlocked state. Then, an idea sparked in her intrinsic mind. “Hey! This lock wasn’t built with bird creature things in mind, such as yourself…”
“Hippogriff. And what’s your point?”
“I’ll bet you can use those claws or even those thin vines of yours to pick the lock off this case.”
The crests on Coral’s head perked up, a wide devilish smile stretched across her beak. She effortlessly slid the vine in, playing with the pins inside the lock until a subtle click resonated.
With a hold onto the majestic treasure intended as a reward for the hard-working gardeners of Equestria, it was now inevitably in the possession of Coral and Silver. They cooley hoof-bumped each other in celebration of their combined power.
Marking the abrupt end of their heist, Mayor Mare thrusted the door open to the sight of two terrifying thieves ransacking her belongings. Instinctively, she screamed and called for unwanted attention, “BURGLARS! THIEVES! HELP!”
“Busted...” Coral remarked at the rude intrusion.
“SHIT!” the black mare exclaimed.
With only a breadth of a second to decide, Coral took charge through sheer adrenaline of preventing an end with asphyxiation in jail. “You!” she commanded her fellow thief. “Grab the trophy and jump out the window! I’ll catch you when I fly out!”
With unbecoming determination, Silver latched onto the trophy like it was a life preserver as she made a mad dash to fling herself out the window! “YOU BETTER CATCH ME, CORAL!” she yelled into the hallows of life-burdening wishes before gravity pulled her down to a daring deathly plummet.
A brave hippogriff plunged out of the hotel and let her wings grip aerodynamically while gaining acceleration to her flight. Her vines projected and ensnared the poor pony’s barrel as they both tumbled down the city depths in high speeds. Then, after the grip reaffirmed stiffly on her associate, she slowly rose her pitch and retracted the vines bringing the black outlaw securely under her stomach. “Neat trick, huh?!” she shouted with a cocky tone.
The cute pony struggled just to screech as she held her eyes shut, clutching onto the trophy like a teddy bear. All she thought in her mind was at least she held onto the one thing she loved the most and would give whoever had to clean the mess one harsh job.
Cornfield spotted Coral flying at him on the rooftop with the thief dangling in tow. The entire complex behind her lit up like a Hearth’s Warming Eve tree. Scarce on any time left, they must act in haste lest the feds show up to spoil the party. The avian displaced her extra cargo next to her spotter and loosened her vines from the burglar, only for her to slip off and land on her bubbly hindquarters. “OW! Watch it!” she protested, still clumped together with the trophy.
“Coral?!” shouted the stallion, recognizing the unwelcome pony in one glance. “Why in Equestria is she here with you?!”
The mare finally lifted herself up and then scoffed at Cornfield, pushing her trophy away from him. “I can’t believe you’re involved in this, too, little boy!”
After the third party’s defilement, Cornfield attempted a pressing debate to remove her, but the effort was futile against the hippogriff’s neutral position physically enforcing peace between the two. “Ok, break it up, both of you!” she ordered. “We have...” Coral referenced a clock tower stranded in the distance, tauntingly counting down the minutes before her doom. 9:56 pm was all that was left for consumption after their ordeal and ticking away faster than she would like. “Two hours before we die. We got the trophy, but we aren’t giving it to Electric. Cornfield, you’re getting your wish after all.”
“Huh? What do you mean?” The opportunity to fill him in was nigh. Keeping it concise as time ran short, Coral relayed the plan of snuffing out Electric to sustain their breath once and for all.
Even though Cornfield could not fathom how Coral’s convictions reversed, he was more baffled by her company, a pony that introduced him to the parasitic life in his first ever tour of the city. Of course, achieving the colt’s empathy needed more than confiding a resolved conflict as he questioned his trusted friend. “Coral? Do we really need HER? She’s just a lowly mugger!”
“Yeah, and you’re a real knight in shining armor, wondercolt.” The mysterious mare saved her forelegs the trouble of carrying the golden statue and surrounded it with her horn’s levitation aura. “I may be a ‘lowly thief’...”
“MUGGER!” He asserted.
Exasperated, the white-maned female blew her hair aside, which proved as a pointless gesture. “Fine, MUGGER! You happy? Anyway, I’m really not looking forward to getting caught in a place like this, so could we hurry this along, please?”
The young stallion wanted nothing to do with this pest, so he tugged his friend’s foreleg. “Come on, Coral, we don’t need her! We’re good enough to take on Electric ourselves!”
Unamused by his childish tactics, Coral yanked her leg away and looked down on him. “Cornfield, did you forget that I am a thief, too?” she retorted, quick to shrug him off his soapbox. “Yet you found value in me and who I am. She’s in the exact same boat and prettier and any help we can get is more than welcome.”
As if on cue, a droplet of water skipped off the tip of the hippogriff’s beak. The signaling effect drew their attention to the multitude of dark clouds gathering above them, gradually sending more rain to soak the three. “But what about Caballeron?” Cornfield refuted, opting for ignorance of his increasingly wet fur. “Remember? If I helped him out, chances are he’d betray us! Who’s to say she won’t do the same?” He peered around her like she was a corner of a wall to establish visual confirmation of the uninvited third-party, who was shielding her precious loot while precipitation dragged her mane flat. Yet, she seemed only materiality concerned, even though they all knew she was at their mercy. “Ugh... look, if we kill Electric, she’ll be fine! She’ll just wander off some place!”
Silently, Coral checked the dark equine pilferer and sighed, breaking her feathered mane of the sogging moisture as she came beak-to-muzzle with said pony. “Look, I won’t ask you to do anything you don’t want to do. If you want to give Electric the trophy and be on your way, we can take him out ourselves. Yet, if we fail, he’ll still be around to trick thieves like us that are starving in the street to play these sick games.” This was the last chance she’d give the benefit of the doubt and provide a way for the unknown malefactor to redeem herself. The holder of The Heart of Nature then reached her talons out to the mare, attempting to extend her offer of cooperation once more. “The more power we have behind us, the more likely it is for us to come out on top. Will you help us?”