10
At some point a wise pony had said the most important aspect of detective work was the leg work.
Johnnycake Storm would counter that this was an awesome but ultimately meaningless slogan because, last he checked, ponies were 40% leg, and anyway it was the 21st reign of Celestia, you could farm stuff out these days. Keep the deerstalker hats if you want, but let your money do the walking.
After running down Overcharger, he and Spidey had followed the Colonnade Sound Systems lead to a storage and shipping facility, Port ‘n’ Go. It seemed legit but not only did everypony working there know nothing about the company that owned and financed them, Stoop Conquests, there were more fake brands among the authentic ones listed in their inventory.
Pros: they were making progress hunting down Lyja!
Cons: it was glacial progress while Pete handled the search for connections between shell companies, seeming way too happy to visit the Department of Records and Information Services, and Johnny would be the first to admit he had the attention span of—ooh, a penny!
Solving a case of supervillain real estate fraud was small potatoes for the FF, and Johnny didn’t want to hit the team up about this anyway. Sue would mother him to death because of Lyja and the inevitable row about how he’d maybe thrown away his flyer’s licence was going to be exhausting enough. Spidey could handle the boring stuff but they were splitting up less to search for clues, more because a bored/increasingly aggravated Horseshoe Torch around decades of flammable files was a bad idea.
He swung by the garage first, hoping to lose himself in the music of machinery, perhaps even kill some time with a street race, but everypony working the floor had their karts halfway done. He asked around about good ol’ Domino Torpedo’s crew (now there was a family-team that knew how to raise some hay!) but the only one in town was Roman Candle, and Johnny wasn’t in the mood for a zany caper with worse jokes than Peter’s.
Alright, fine, he’d headed to the garage because there was a chance Lyja would follow him and try something. Not that Johnny didn’t have faith in the Spider-Surprise plan, but he wanted it over with. That chase in the subway had come this close!
He began to spiral, wondering when/if Lyja would attack his new workplace and why she hadn’t already, which prompted him to make his excuses to the gang and take off. He’d circled the district Peter was working in, trying to think of something to do. Never a supervillain around when you needed one!
Miraculously, he found the next best thing: plucky misfit teenagers!
***
“Alright, good game, good game,” he assured one of his exhausted charges as she shuffled off a dance mat laid out in the middle of the local rec centre’s basketball court. He passed her a water bottle from his collar, massaging her shoulders as he took in her dance off opponent. The two fillies were clearly rivals, but even though they’d danced to a tie the real prize was the look of growing respect on both their faces.
The judges seemed to agree. For the third round in a row they held up equal scorecards for both sides.
“Aww man!” moaned a teenage Unicorn with a baseball cap, a heart of gold, and, unfortunately, a foreleg in a cast. “We’re gonna have to do something amazing to break the deadlock, but I can’t join in for our big finish with this busted leg!”
“Yeah, sorry, that’s on me,” Johnny admitted absent-mindedly. “Dang! If only I were five to eight years younger and had a headband!”
“Mr. Storm, no!” the skateboarding outcast protested, adjusting her helmet for better looking sincerely up at him. “Without you we’d never have come together at all! It’s not your fault they’re gonna demolish the centre! And even if they do, we’ll always have each other!”
Johnny blinked at her as the rest of the group nodded and high-hoofed in solidarity.
“What? Oh, that! Yeah, no, the rec centre’s gonna be fine.”
“Huh?”
“I signed it up to the FF’s charity accounts,” Johnny said idly. “My sister was thrilled to pick it up and so mad when she found out we actually have stock in the firm trying to bulldoze it. She’s shutting down every lousy deal she can find as we speak.”
The shady real-estate developer of the piece leered at him as the other dance team (sponsored by his firm to divert the 4,000-gem prize away from the centre, naturally) finished, scoring high. The jerk looked confused when Johnny simply waved back distractedly, focused on the mat.
“So…what, we’ve been fine this whole time?” the outcast realised, blinking.
“No, the rec centre’s been fine! We need to come up with a plan to win this contest, helping you forge bonds that, despite your diverse backgrounds, will last at least until you have to go to college.”
“Are you telling us you only signed up to win this dance contest?” the affluent ballet academy filly asked, stunned.
“Why else?”
“I broke my leg for this!” the wide-eyed Unicorn snapped incredulously.
“And I admitted I shouldn’t have pushed you so hard, thus taking street-responsibility,” Johnny said, smiling at a matter well resolved even as his wards’ eyes bugged at him, and turned back to the mat, frowning. “Hmmm, if only I could use my powers. But those stupid rules!”
He hesitated, then whipped around. The outcast backed up, clutching her skateboard like a shield. “Why are you looking at me like that…?”
“You,” Johnny grinned.
“What?! But-but-but I don’t know how to dance!”
“Who said anything about dancing?”
“Everypony?” the ballet academy one said, squinting. “I mean…” She gestured to several banners and posters, all baring the words Dance Off.
“Yeah,” chimed in the Unicorn, “the rules say the prize either goes to the most organised or inventive team!”
“Oh, you want inventive?” Johnny smirked as he leaned too far into the outcast’s personal space. “Do they explicitly say you can’t use a skateboard?”
The outcast and the plucky teens exchanged glances, their eyes all lighting up. The Unicorn nodded grimly, gesturing to the mat with his crutch. It was a sweet gesture and Johnny managed to catch him before he fell. The new team set off for victory, the outcast skating towards destiny with grim dignity.
The chain link fencing behind Johnny rattled slightly with a sudden weight. “I wasn’t even gone for two hours.”
“So maybe the lesson here is people get more done when you’re not around.” Johnny shrugged as the Unicorn stared up at Spider-Pony crouched above them, a file dangling from his tail. That made the Torch raise an eyebrow. “Got something?”
Spidey crouched further down, exhibiting an almost boneless body language the equine form was not designed for, so he could lower his tail and display the files contents. “Check it, every single one of these businesses bought into those legit ones a few years back. Anything to do with your disco o’ doom was probably set up around then, so we have a time frame for how fake they are and what they all have in common: drum roll, please…”
“No.” Johnny irritably waved a hoof at a column of names underlined in red. “This is all just letters on paper, man. Get to the point.”
“Ugh, fine!” Spidey looked up at a rattle of skateboard wheels. “Whoa, what’s going on here?”
Johnny glanced over his shoulder, watching as the outcast balanced on one foreleg as her skateboard circled the group, which pirouetted and sprang over her in an incredible display of improvised rhythm. “Oh, right. Keep goin’ guys! Blaze that trail!” He turned back to the file. “Focus.”
“It’s weird hearing that come out of your mouth.”
Johnny punched the fence, startling the Unicorn and making the unperturbed Web-Slinger’s perch sway.
“Fine, fine.” Spidey tapped a map printout. “Disused funfair manufacturing plant on the waterfront.”
“Are you serious?”
“Says the guy in the middle of a Lifetime original movie.”
“Hey!” the Unicorn protested.
“Sorry,” Spidey conceded, ears lowering slightly.
Johnny turned away to deliver a quick whoop of encouragement as the outcast almost fumbled her latest landing but was caught by her team-mates and managed to turn it into a spin. He shook his head as he looked back up at his roommate. “Why do basically all your gigs sound like a bad Scooby Doo episode?”
“Our gig, Scrappy.”
“Hey, what was the name of the hillbilly one?”
“Scooby Dum.”
“That’s you.”
The benched Unicorn had stopped keeping an eye on his friends to look back and forth between the two supers. “You guys went to college?” he asked. They nodded. “Ya finish?”
“No,” Johnny said simply at the same time Spidey awkwardly mumbled, “Well, kinda, not my major, but--”
“Cool.” The kid saluted them with his crutch. “Thanks for inspiring some of my life choices.”
Johnny grinned at him then joined in the applause as the team performed a synchronised backflip. “Sooo is Lyja gonna be at this dump, or…?”
“50/50,” Spidey admitted with a shrug. “We’d at least be taking away her toys.”
“Good enough,” the Torch smiled grimly, igniting as the judges held up perfect tens for the exhausted team.
“Whoa,” the Unicorn protested, “hey, you’re not sticking around? There’s gonna be cake!”
Spidey’s ears perked up. “Ooooh!”
“Duty calls, kid,” Johnny smirked, winking at his panting charges.
Spidey looked between them. “Wait. Do you even know any of their names?”
“Of course not, it’d foster dependency.” Johnny clasped his hooves together then blew on them, sending out dancing flames. The cheering crowds gasped as they twisted into a blazing message: PROUD OF YOU
The plucky teens grinned at each other, the outcast balanced on their shoulders, united forever even as their mentor (of less than two hours) launched into the air. It was only slightly ruined by the yelping Spider-Pony dragged along in his wake.
“So what’s the plan if Lyja isn’t there?” the Torch asked as they looped around a building.
“Leggo!” Spidey protested, dangling from his unlit hooves. “You’re arm-pitting me! We’ve talked about this!”
“Hey, maybe if you ground pounders could streamline your posture--"
“How am I supposed to streamline anything when you’re carrying me by the armpits?! And stop using Pegasus slang, you poser!”
“I might be about to lose my flyer’s licence, man, lemme enjoy it while I can!”
“Dunno about that,” Spidey called over the wind, twisting himself free and firing a web-line from his tail into Johnny’s grip. “What if you, say, uncovered and broke up the biggest secret supervillain supply ring in Manehattan?”
Johnny smirked, his teeth glowing with flames and natural cool. “Well, I’d certainly enjoy it.”
“Then you wanna be heading in the other direction, Flame-Brain.” He looked down as Spidey jerked a hoof towards the other side of the island. “Actually, no wait, go back!”
“What, got another lead on Lyja?”
“No, no, just gotta put these files back.”
11
Rainbow Dash took an irritable sip of her water bottle and checked the road again. “C’mon, Pinkie Pie,” she muttered.
She glared at a patina of confetti and funfair debris littering the fields outside of town. Okay, so Fluttershy learned to actually take care of her animal friends by listening to their needs, cool, but could she maybe have figured this out, like, five minutes before Discord got the idea to create a safari park for them? Where the rules were reversed and ponies were the ones in cages performing tricks, naturally.
A snap of those greasy fingers and everypony’s houses had gone back to being, y’know, houses, though Dash had to admit she was gonna miss the rollercoaster. But apparently Discord had actually bought the party supplies, which was honestly one of the weirdest ideas she’d ever heard. For starters, where’d he get the money? But the point was he couldn’t just make those vanish along with his other nonsense. And then he’d vanished to “think about what we all learned here today!”, conveniently right before the matter of clean-up had been mentioned.
Dash poked a half-deflated balloon animal. Technically as captain of the weather team she’d have been put on this anyway, in an important lead role, naturally! But what was really getting to her was that the Mayor had dumped most of this in her lap because of how much of a mess her Pinkie/Cheese Sandwich birth-iversary had made, and that the old gal had a point.
Pinkie had got to enthusiastically volunteer and the display of a freedom she’d lost still rubbed Dash the wrong way, but Pinkie not being here was legit annoying. The sooner they started, the sooner she could get back to practicing!
In the old days she’d have probably done something cool, like whip up a mini-tornado to vacuum this stuff up and dump it down the nearest hole, but that would be such a Lightning Dust move and she was trying to prove turning 24 had come with a maturity boost.
There was a rattling sound from up the hill. “Dashie! Dashie!” Pinkie called, waving from on top of her party cannon, riding it towards her.
“’Bout time,” Dash muttered, though admittedly Pinkie’s entrance was pretty cool. She took a final sip of water, making a mental note to explore cannon surfing as a new addition to her repertoire as the party pony pulled up. “Alrighty, you ready for some ‘outside union regulations, sorry ma’am’ action?!”
“Got more yep in my step than there’s chilli peppers in Granny Pie’s secret spicy sauce!”
“Cool,” Dash chuckled, then cracked her joints. She considered the party cannon as she picked up a trash bag. “Uh, there a reason ya brought that thing along? Point is to clean up and it’s built for basically the exact opposite. Hay, I’m not even sure it’s road legal.”
“Shh, it’s okay baby, she doesn’t mean it,” Pinkie cooed, patting the barrel.
“Pinkie, seriously, pick it up!” Dash snapped.
She turned and blinked as Pinkie shrugged and began trying to heft her cannon onto her back. She sighed, dragging a hoof down her face before giving in to an endeared chuckle. “I meant the pace! Wanna get this over with!”
“Oh, right.” Pinkie dropped her cannon, shaking the leaves off nearby trees and jolting some confetti into the air. She began to crank a handle Dash had never noticed before, beaming. “Don’t worry, we’ve got this.”
“Pinkie, wait!” Dash began, waving her hooves in horror of how much debris and time was about to be added to her slate.
It was drowned out by a whirring sound, coming from the barrel.
Pinkie wheeled it forward and Dash watched in astonishment as it began to vacuum up a pile of silly string and balloons in front of them. It all vanished into the mouth, even the life-sized animal standees, though Dash was used to physics relaxing in Pinkie’s presence. It was one of the things she most respected her friend for!
“What is this?!” she called over the vacuum noises the cannon was making, grinning with delight.
Pinkie grinned back as the last of the immediate mess vanished inside, which seemed to stop the noise. “Like it? It was Cheese Sandwich’s idea!”
Dash blinked. “You talk to Cheese Sandwich?”
Pinkie nodded. “We’re pen pals! Well, when he can get his hooves on some paper. But he’ll always be a pal!”
Dash smirked. “Just a pal, huh?”
“Yeah?” Pinkie said, looking back at her with an expression too confused to be anything other than sincerely innocent. “Anyway, after I got over being super jealous I didn’t come up with this reverse polarity idea—that’s what I’m calling it, don’t tell Twilight—I went to work on it. Finished it up a few weeks ago, seriously cuts down on clean up time!”
“I like the sound of that.”
“I figured! Plus, you had that look on your face when you’re thinking about using tornados to solve all your problems, but you know you shouldn’t, so I thought it’d help.”
Dash instinctively rubbed her cheek, frowning. “There’s a face for that? I mean, uh, yeah?”
“Yeah!” Pinkie enthused, cranking the handle as she aimed at a fresh pile. “Like, maybe you whip up a little one to suck up some clutter, then guide it over here so we can make like some exercising guards at hoofcamp and suck it up!”
“Aww Pinkie,” Dash sniffed, embracing her. “Ya always know what to say to make me feel better. Okay, three, two, one, break!”
“Already?” Pinkie blinked, producing a lunchbox from somewhere. “But we just got here!” A beat as she registered Dash’s deadpan expression. “Oh.”
***
Soon they were laughing, chasing each other around a gradually shrinking maze of funfair detritus. There was something satisfying about the sound of the vacuum cannon swallowing small tornados full of glitter and streamers.
Inevitably they made a game out of it, speeding up the work as Dash wadded glitter and streamers together and kicked them as far out of range as she could, laughing along with Pinkie as the cannon managed to catch them all.
“Okay, ready?” Dash called, preparing a final yak-sized wad. She hefted it over her head and realised she was struggling to maintain altitude and stay steady, but when had that stopped her before?
“Nope!” came Pinkie’s enthusiastic reply.
Dash let fly.
Pinkie, standing on her hind legs, rolled her canon as quickly as she could while trying to haul its neck into position…and slipped on her tail just in time to simultaneously turn it on and inadvertently shove it downhill.
Dash watched, mesmerised, as the rippling outline of suction caught the tumbling ball and dragged it along a swaying path before the canon finally hit a fence, swinging its neck down suddenly. This freed the ball from the suction’s grip, the momentum and sudden release launching it back across the field, right towards her!
When she opened her eyes and uncurled from her hasty crouch she briefly wondered if she’d been abducted to another planet (…which would be pretty rad, actually!), but realised a weird tree on the horizon was just a regular Ponyville tree, covered in Discord’s decorations.
Twilight or Applejack would have approached it quickly but carefully, wanting to make sure nopony had been hurt but also wondering if the festively organised way the ball’s components covered the branches was some leftover chaos magic. Rainbow, Pinkie bouncing behind her, raced over because she was worried it was one of Sweet Apple Acres’ trees and the last thing she felt like putting up with right now was an AJ lecture.
“Pretty,” Pinkie observed, admiring a pattern of paper links winding through some branches.
“Pretty lame, yeah,” Dash concurred, irritably trying to get a grip on tangles without having to use her mouth. “Gimme a hoof with this big bit here!”
“Um…” the big bit said.
It yelped along with Dash and Pinkie as they hugged each other, which was what clued Dash in.
“Fluttershy?!”
“Yes. Hello…?”
“What’re you doin’ in there?!”
“Making it work,” Pinkie said, nodding with approval.
“Oh, thank you!” Fluttershy’s cyan eyes, the only part of her visible between a gap in rolls of party colours, crinkled at the compliment, then blinked. “I think some of it’s in my ears…”
“Yeah, well, maybe you shoulda stayed out of my clean up zone,” Dash chided, managing to keep, like, 70% of guilt out of her voice. “What’re you even doing out here? Thought you had a party to throw for your critters!”
She slipped her hooves into a seam, Pinkie mirroring the gesture on the left, and together they pulled open enough of a gap for Fluttershy to squeeze her head and shoulders out.
“I was looking for Applejack, actually.”
“Why? Everything okay?”
Fluttershy’s eyes went very distant all of a sudden. Dash hadn’t seen her look this in the headlights since their last year of school, where ’Shy’d found out Coltz 11 Ztallions was breaking up and had to try and find a way to break the news to her.
“Is it for your party?” Pinkie asked. Her eyes sparkled suddenly. “Are you gonna ask Applejack to be a rodeo clown?”
Dash tumbled out of the air and onto her back, laughing. Like, gonna-break-something laughing. She couldn’t help it. She could hear a country cover of that circus tune in her head so perfectly!
“I see you’ve already heard the good news!” came a distant, giddy voice.
“Slow down!” cried another, less chill one.
Rainbow managed to roll herself over and catch her breath, blinking at the sight of a delighted Rarity bounding along the road towards them. Whatever the news was it’d put some serious nitro in Rarity’s tank. She was throwing up dust, even!
Three pairs of eyes widened as she sprang, gazelle style, over the fence separating them, towing a hollering something from her tail.
At first Dash thought it must be some kind of screaming, purple Chinese lantern. It lost its grip on Rarity’s tail and hurtled towards her. Naturally her hoofball honed reflexes let her snag it with her wings, revealing it to be Spike, which made way more sense.
“Thanks,” the dragon wheezed gratefully, then craned around her shoulder to squint at Fluttershy. “Man, what happened to you?”
“I was looking for Applejack--” Fluttershy began urgently.
“Yes!” Rarity trilled, prancing in place. “Applejack must be told! Ponies in deepest, darkest South Equestria must be told! I’m glad you’re here, Pinkie dear, we have oh so much to do!”
“I’m…glad you’re glad…?” Pinkie said carefully, exchanging Pinkie-Sense-Tingling looks with Dash.
“So, you know then?” Fluttershy asked the grinning fashionista, tremulously.
Dash squinted between them then down at Spike, who was suddenly trying to avoid eye contact. “Know what?”
“Spikey-wikey has let me in on the most wonderful news!” Rarity said, clapping her hooves. She pranced over to Fluttershy, using her telekinesis to bring her bindings closer for examination. “Oooh, do you mind if I borrow some of these for the big day, darling?”
“Um…”
“No, what are we thinking, far too middle school.”
“What big day?” Dash asked, eyes narrowing. She was no detective, she’d admit, but she glared down at Spike on the basis that if this was just a basic Rarity freak out he wouldn’t be trying to squirm out of her grip so much.
“The biggest of days!” Rarity declared, showing so many teeth in one smile even Pinkie backed up. Fluttershy would have if she wasn’t still tied to her tree.
“Alright, that’s it,” Dash snapped, firmly putting Spike down but keeping him within tail grabbing distance. “I’m gonna take a deep breath and count to five.”
“Don’t you mean ten?” Spike ventured.
“Nah, that’s how long you two have to start making sense. What’re you talking about?”
Rarity was suddenly in her face, giving Dash an inadvertent close up of the chemical reaction happing in her brain through her eyes. “Twilight is getting ma—Twilight is getting ma-ma--”
“Twilight’s mom is coming to town?” Pinkie asked cheerfully. She blinked at the glare Dash gave her.
“Oh dear,” Fluttershy squeaked.
“Twilight is ge-heh-heh-heh,” Rarity continued, swaying, “Twilight is getting ma-ha-ha-HA-HA!” Her hoof flew to her brow as she reared up on her hindlegs. “Oh my, excuse me a moment everypony…”
“Gotcha covered!” Pinkie said quickly, disappearing into a bush and dragging out the fainting couch.
“Ta muchly,” Rarity said and flopped down. Dash opened her mouth to ask the party pony How-Where-What but gave up and raised an eyebrow at Spike.
“Peter might be proposing,” the dragon said, with a short sigh that felt like it captured all the miles he could’ve run before her attention was back on him.
“YES!” Rarity exclaimed ecstatically, shooting into a sitting position and her hooves clenched tight enough to turn coal to diamond.
Dash felt it. Felt. It. The statement changed the universe around her, compressing it to a single point and then exploding into a whole new one. There was the world before that web-slinging idiot did probably the dumbest thing ever, and suddenly they were all now living in a world where he’d actually gone and done it, the slimy little—!
“Let’s not jump to conclusions,” Fluttershy said quickly.
“Spike saw the ring!” Rarity hissed, still grinning.
“Uh…” Pinkie said. She stared into space as they all turned to her, then blinked in surprise at herself. “Yeah, no, I got nothin’.”
“You’ve got planning sessions to attend and invites to mail is what you’ve got, young filly,” Rarity decreed, springing off her couch. “Oh, and somepony should untie Fluttershy at some point. That parade of swans won’t organise itself, after all. Goodness, there’s a thought, what’s Princess Celestia going to do? Other than give a marvellous speech, of course! And Rainbow, you--”
“I’m gonna kill him,” Dash said distantly.
A beat.
“Oh boy,” Spike mumbled. He held up his paws. “Guys, c’mon, let’s just take a sec here…”
Rarity blinked. “Who? Peter? Whyever would you say such a thing? Is this because he won’t build you your own web-shooters?”
“It’s because he’s outta his mind!” Dash roared. “Are you kidding me?! What the hay kinda outta nowhere move is this?! Agh, y’know what?! Y’know what?! I bet I know what this is!”
“The best day of Twilight’s life?” Rarity huffed.
“I’ll bet it’s because of the castle!”
“What?!”
“Yeah, think about it, he lives with Johnnycake! ’Course he wants to move out, and ka-ching, Twilight’s got a brand-new castle! Man, he’s probably gonna talk her into sellin' it or something!”
“And sweep her off her hooves to a tax haven in the Candy Cane Islands, no doubt,” Rarity said with a roll of her eyes.
“It’s cute that you don’t get this is gonna wind up in a Las Pegasus divorce court.”
“Darling, really!”
Dash stared at her. “Great Pony in the Sky…you’re seriously going along with this?!”
“Yes, oh Element of Loyalty,” Rarity snapped, “I am. Like a good friend would.”
“Uh, no, a good friend would point out that this is way too soon.”
“I mean,” Spike said before he could stop himself, “it’s been almost three years.”
He froze in place as Dash and Rarity rounded on him, then almost atomised by the explosive force as they rounded back on each other.
“It’s not your place to say when Twilight can and can’t--” Rarity began primly.
“But it’s totally yours to plan this whole thing out for her?”
“I’d…consult.” Rarity waved a hasty hoof at the air. “Pinkie would help.”
“Leave me outta this!” the party pony protested.
“Yeah,” Dash jeered, “’cause she’s on my side.”
“No I’m not. I’m on Twilight’s.”
“What does that even mean?!”
Pinkie shrugged. “Catering code. If she goes along with it, Sugar Cube Corner’ll throw her a reception she’ll never forget. If she doesn’t, I’ll…uh, dunno if the rules say anything about what you throw if a pony turns down a proposal, but the point is a gig’s a gig.”
She drew an invisible line with her tail and took a prim step backwards over it. “This space? Gotland, fillies!”
“Can I come?” Fluttershy whimpered. She’d tried biting through the confetti and it hadn’t worked.
“Look, Peter hasn’t even popped the question yet!” Spike almost wailed, clutching his fins. “Twilight just found it in his bag! He’s not even in town right now! She said she’s gonna take the day, figure out what to say!”
“The right thing,” Rarity said.
“Yeah,” Rainbow agreed, nodding emphatically. “Her own question: Sorry babe, but are you outta your ever loving mind?!”
“Stop! Hitting! That! Tone!” Rarity hissed back. “You are ruining my inner-ear!”
“As if you’ve been listening to a word I’ve said anyway.”
“I just don’t see why you think Twilight couldn’t make this work.”
Dash reared up on her hind legs, gesturing to the fields and hills with her hooves. “Hey, see all these trees?”
Rarity looked around contemplatively. “Hmmm, yes, this would make a wonderful spot for the big day…”
“N--” Dash cut herself off and thought about it. “Okay, yeah, it would, betcha get some fantastic light around here at sunset.”
“Oooh!”
“The point is, you’re not just outta your tree, you’re outta each and every one of these trees if you think she can.”
“Can what?”
“Make this shotgun wedding work,” Dash snapped.
“That’s what friends are for, dear.”
“Stitching her to Spider-Pony’s hip for life?!”
“Oh, you’re being utterly ridiculous!”
Dash bit down on her comeback and took a deep breath that flared out her wings. She held Rarity’s gaze for a beat before letting a dreamy smile spread across her muzzle. “Y’know what?” she said sweetly. “You’re right.”
Rarity blinked. “Oh? I mean, of course I am! Glad you think so.”
“Obviously the best thing we can do, for Twilight’s sake—”
“Naturally!” Rarity smiled.
“—is approach this diplomatically.”
Rarity blinked, missing Pinkie pulling down an army helmet and heading for the bushes with Spike as Fluttershy resumed trying to gnaw through her bonds. “What does that mean?”
“It means you go plan the wedding,” Dash trilled, patting her on the shoulder. She leaned in with sudden fury, almost startling Rarity off her hooves. “And I’m gonna have real loud words with the groom!”
Rarity’s mane was dragged out of shape, as were several clouds out of formation, as she rocketed up and towards Ponyville.
12
What was it with street level heroes and warehouses? That always bugged Johnny. Like there was some kind of secret contract to keep all their adventures within a tight budget. Construction sites, now those he could get! Who didn’t love a good fight on girders? They were like pirate ship rigging for cosmopolitan ponies!
This funfair manufacturing warehouse did not look like a good place for an adventure. It looked like what it was. A brick box with windows for holding junk. Great Pony in the Sky, it didn’t even have the decency to sport a giant clown head on the roof or a rusted Ferris wheel or anything!
“This is it?” he asked Spider-Pony, perched on the ledge of the roof they were using to survey things from up the block, while he lounged moodily against a chimney.
“Should be…” Spidey said distantly. He was using some binoculars from Johnny’s utility collar to ‘check for any suspicious movement’.
Johnny got the idea, he didn’t want to go blazing in fully lit up if it would scare Lyja off, but he also knew the Web-Head’s caution was probably a way to drag this out and not deal with his own filly problems back in Ponyville.
Spidey’s tail lashed. “Aha! Sign’s faded but I can make it out. Loggia Storage.”
“Looks more like lame storage,” Johnny muttered.
“I mean, secret base, so that’s probably the point?”
A beat, then Johnny grunted begrudging assent.
“C’mon,” Spidey chuckled, tossing his binoculars back to him, “let’s check it out, maybe set off some more lasers.”
“Aww, you’re just saying that!” Johnny grinned.
***
Peter’s method of sneaking up on the place was to head to ground level and creep through some alleys, which didn’t do anything to improve the Torch’s mood. The fact that the place still looked so basic up-close (from across the street, anyway) didn’t help either. Johnny wasn’t sure what kind of locale he wanted for his final grand showdown with Lyja, but he knew he could do better than the Manehattan Harbour docks.
“Please tell me your Spider-Sense is tingling even a little,” he told the Web-Slinger, who got to crawl across the wall while he still had to stay flamed off. Spider-Pony looked more interesting than him right now. Where was the justice in that?
“Inconclusive,” Spidey said.
“What does that mean?”
“It means technically no, but…” Spidey gestured to the neighbourhood in general, the odd Pegasus worker drifting into view from a yard behind their hiding place. “Ignoring everything leading to this place, it’s a piece of industrial Manehattan real estate that’s not in use? During daylight?”
Johnny nodded, listening to the clatter of machinery and packing crates, even the odd foghorn. The space in front of them felt strangely quiet. He could feel it now.
He opened one of the magic pockets in his collar, slipping out his compact. He flipped it open, the blue glass turning see-through to show Loggia Storage’s façade, and tried to keep as much of it in focus as possible as he ran a hoof along the rim, searching for the right setting.
“Ah, rusting sheet metal,” Spidey sighed mock-wistfully, “every photo class’ dream assignment!”
“If you’re right then this place is counting on way more than sheet metal and a few latched windows.“
The compact’s screen glowed, the image pulling back as it outlined the building in yellow, tracing hundreds of pulsing lines running all over the walls, even down through the street. Johnny’s feral grin of satisfaction reflected over it perfectly.
“Lot of magical security for old roller coaster cars,” Spidey mused as red warning marks began to appear on the screen. “Hmm. Every window and skylight’s covered in spells and circuitry. Man, even the vents! Getting in’s going to be tough…”
“Maybe,” Johnny agreed, scrolling the image to show how many of the yellow power lines stretched under Loggia Storage, “but there’s always down.”
***
He’d been prepared to turn molten hot and melt through the streets until he found…whatever. But Spidey naturally made the plan that much lamer, sorry, 'simpler', (blegh!) by suggesting they just use a good old fashioned Manehattan manhole.
The sewers. Seriously.
Part of the reason Johnny resented sewers, beyond the fact they were sewers, come on, was the cap they forced on his powers. Hundreds of pipes, potentially for gas, one stray spark…
“Hmm…” Spidey murmured distractedly from overhead. Not only did he get to crawl on the ceiling, he’d taken Johnny’s compact to keep track of the security spells. It was starting to feel a little too much like a Spider-Pony case for Johnny’s liking.
“What?”
“Nothing, just…these go down. Way down.”
Johnny quirked an eyebrow, feeling his enthusiasm rise slightly. “Like under the river down?”
“Would explain why they need so much power and security. I think some of these are elevator shafts.”
“So I can offer Shining a smooth ride with some classy muzack when I crack this case wide open and get my licence back!”
“Getting ahead of yourself, aren’t you? They haven’t taken it away yet.”
“That’s the spirit.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“I know, I’m cutting you off before you try and give one of your depressing pep talks. Where’s the closest elevator?”
“Uh…” Spidey checked the compact then lowered it to him, pointing. “Through that wall. And hey, I don’t give depressing…is that a thing I do?”
“I mean, if you gave pep talks at all, how else would they go?” Johnny teased, rubbing his hooves together until they were molten.
He pressed them to the ancient brick work, which practically evaporated on contact anyway. Very up to date magical rune-circuitry glittered in the darkness beyond it. Spidey hopped down into the muck beside him and they both craned over the new edge, smelling stale air tinged with salt.
***
The descent didn’t take too long for ponies who could make it as fast as they could, but Johnny was getting excited at closing in on Lyja and therefore impatient.
“Remember,” Spidey said as they began to near a dim light source, ricocheting from wall to wall, “I handle Lyja.”
“No,” the Torch shot back, resisting the temptation to just jet ahead and leave him in the dust, “I’m handling Lyja, you’re just the way I’m doing it.”
“Rarity warned me you’d try to live vicariously through me like this.”
“Impossible. You have no life.”
What Pete actually meant: You realise if Lyja is down there then I’m gonna be too busy to help you with whatever else is? And with this much space and security it could be an army.
What Johnny had meant: I know.
***
“Hooh-kay…” Spidey said, not even grunting as they reached the bottom of the shaft, “final floor, ocean side views, tons of pressure, and whatever this is.”
“Fancy mirror walls,” Johnny mused, flaming off and inadvertently plunging them into darkness, though there was enough light from somewhere for them to make out shapes beyond the glass in their way. “Either this is one of those pretentious office buildings or we’re looking at a good old fashioned secret escape tunnel.”
He rapt a hoof on the glass, testing for a way out.
“Oh, very covert,” Peter muttered irritably.
“They’ll know we’re here sooner or later,” Johnny retorted without turning round, “but don’t worry, I plan to use your complete lack of charisma to scare them off.”
He found what he was looking for in the seam connecting the glass to the shaft, a section of wall he could push inward. The glass hissed up into its frame, allowing them to step out into a darkness that felt oddly crowded.
Johnny flamed on, revealing that this was because they were standing in…
“A hall of mirrors?” they asked each other.
Spidey shrugged. The Torch shrugged back, and they set off, though without banter.
It wasn’t that they were trying to keep up their stealthy routine, if anything Johnny was more than in the mood for a little action, but coming face to face with hundreds of their reflections at the bottom of an underwater shaft was one of those things that shook even the most seasoned of explorers.
Well, hundreds of Pete’s reflections.
***
Lyja’s underground playpen got weirder as they went on. Other sections of the mirror maze were one way glass, allowing them to look out into rooms, none of which matched. A library, a ballroom, a train station, a Las Pegasus style faux-temple, some kind of indoor graveyard, a generator room, even a full-scale reproduction of the foyer of Canterlot Castle.
One mirror’s frame was heavily reinforced with steel, because it looked out onto the river outside. They kept well away from that one.
“Big place,” Spidey observed, considering one mirror showing a living room. It looked like a studio set for a kids puppet show.
“Maybe too big for Lyja,” Johnny mused, “I mean, she likes to travel with a goon squad when she can, but this doesn’t feel like a Skrull base.”
“Yeah? They did try and snare you with that apartment.”
“Sure, but the Skrull Empire’s crazy into structure and organisation. None of these rooms fit together. Plus, no armoires, no barracks…”
“I hear ya.” Spidey was looking around at the seams and pipes visible from certain open sections of ceiling above them, running along the mirror frames. “Weird thing? This place feels familiar.”
“What am I, your dream journal? Keep the recurring nightmares to yourself, Webs.”
“First off, this kinda dream would represent self-discovery.”
“Oh, that’s why it’s so boring!”
“Second, I mean it. This is a special talent thing.” Spidey trotted over to another mirror, squinting into an office on the other side. “I might have been here before and be unconsciously recognising something.”
Johnny thought about that. Manehattan had almost as much hidden underground space as the central Equestrian pastures of Canterlot, and villains never seemed to lack for, say, a secret underwater base. But what would Lyja be doing here?
“Spider-Sense!” Peter hissed suddenly, urgently spinning towards him.
“Where?” Johnny asked, instantly raising his temperature and readying his hooves.
A light flicked on, making them both spin towards it. The living room set was starting to fill with a group of ponies, talking animatedly.
The boys looked at each other, recognising the motley crew and feeling thrown.
In the lead were the super strong Titania, dressed in her spiked purple wrestling costume, and her husband, the Absorbing Pony, dressed in the orange prison jumpsuit pants and white shirt he always wore for some reason.
Psychologist speculated he was mocking the system that tried to contain him by turning it into a uniform. Johnny figured Cruel Crusher might just be too dumb to figure out how to take it off.
Then again, when a Unicorn that size could turn himself into solid steel or rock just by pressing his horn to anything and carried around his prison ball and chain as a trademark weapon, he probably didn’t have much trouble convincing ponies that he could wear whatever he liked.
Behind them came Spellectro, unmistakable in his green and yellow coat and star-burst mask, trying as ever way too hard to look cool, probably to impress the more imposing figure behind him. Doctor Argonaut, wrapped in the latest model of the armoured harness he’d taken his name from. His tentacles carried him, making no sound but looking painfully solid. It was too easy to imagine what they’d feel like slamming into you.
“Didn’t even know these guys were out of the Stockade,” Spidey murmured, not sounding worried but not sounding glib either.
Johnny saw something that made him clench his teeth before he could make his own quip. Lyja was walking into the room. His flaming aura spiked violently as he watched Spellectro grin and wink at the Skrull, who rolled unimpressed eyes.
“Is it hot in here?” Spellectro asked, his voice muffled through the glass, looking around and frowning. Johnny breathed out, lowering the temperature.
“Oh please,” he heard Lyja mutter.
“Hot, cold, tropical or tempestuous!” announced a jovial voice. “We cater to every whim here!”
Johnny blinked. “Him?”
“…aww man,” Spidey moaned as the pony they were expecting strutted into the room. “Shoulda seen it coming.”
“Huh?”
“Colonnade,” Peter insisted, “Loggia, hay, Port ‘n’ Go! Portico! They’re all synonyms for…”
“Arcade,” Johnny said grimly, watching the white suited and bow tie wearing Earth Pony pontificate, gesturing to every inch of the living room. “We’re in a Murderworld park.”
***
“—so how much would you pay?” Arcade was saying, grinning that deranged grin of his, though there was an edge of desperation to his voice Johnny recognised from when his traps would turn on him and he needed a hoof out.
“Whaddaya think, babe?” the Absorbing Pony asked, putting a foreleg around Titania’s shoulder.
“I dunno,” she mused, “it’s a little pricy. How much for the furniture?”
Arcade blinked at her. “I’m sorry?”
“Some of these rooms are real fancy! We could make a place up like ‘em when we find one.”
“Oh, but dear lady, surely you can see you’ve already found the perfect place! Places, even! Any sort of room you want, you shall have!”
“I ain’t feelin’ the giant pinball machine,” the Absorbing Pony said. Titania nodded.
“Nor I,” Doc Argo said imperiously.
“Ah, doctor,” Arcade wheedled, “doctor, doctor, doctor! You’re a criminal mastermind! A peerless portrait in the gallery of infamy!”
“An’ don’t you forget it!” Spellectro snapped, ever the fateful lapdog.
“Maxwell,” Argo said irritably.
“Surely a stallion of your sophistication can appreciate the more, um, cultured segments of my little hideaway!”
“It used to be my little hideaway!” Argo snapped, his tentacles writhing violently. “And I shall have it back! Without any of the ridiculous changes you’ve made in my absence!”
“Direct,” Arcade said, nodding hurriedly, “I can respect that.! But I’m sure you can respect that, well, the economy being what it is…”
Argo boggled at the engineer through his polarised goggles. “You steal my lair and then dare to suggest I pay to take it back?!”
Arcade shrugged.
***
“I can’t believe this is actually happening,” Spider-Pony said distantly.
“Like a cart wreck,” the Torch agreed. “Want to look away but…can’t.”
***
“The Stampede Six don’t take no for an answer!” Spellectro snarled, letting lightning play around his body.
“Settle down, sparky,” the Absorbing Pony warned. “We didn’t see yer name on the place.”
“Thank you for reminding me,” Dr. Argonaut said peevishly, skewering Arcade with a glare. “There used to be a plaque over the diving bell entrance. A quote from Professor Notoriety.”
Arcade had to think about it. “Oh, that! Had to remove it when we were putting in the self-destruct mechanism. Sorry.”
“It gave the place character!” Argo fumed. His tentacles writhed with indignant mechanical noises.
“That it did, that it did,” Arcade agreed hurriedly, “still got it in my office if you’d like!”
“What’s it made of?” Titania asked.
“Gold,” Argo muttered.
“Huh! Real gold?”
“What are you implying?!”
“Oh Crushy,” Titania simpered, clutching her husband’s hoof, “think about it! We could have it over the fireplace or whatever, and you could do your thing an’ beat any fuzz what came snoopin’ around to death! Ya wouldn’t even have to use yer ball!”
“Aww, babe,” the Absorbing Pony sniffed, giving her a hug, “always thinkin’ of me!”
“That,” Arcade said, clasping his hooves together with gravitas his voice was too oily to pull off, “is exactly the kind of memories we here at Murderworld hope to create for any and all criminal fraternities.”
“’Ey!” Spellectro warned. “The Stampede Six ain’t no frat! You heard the Doc! This was his base first an’ anypony lookin’ to rent it’s gotta go through him first!”
Argo looked down at him and nodded to himself contemplatively.
“Hmm. I must admit that sounds like a reasonable idea. Not bad, Maxwell.” His lacky literally glowed with pride as he turned to the power couple. “Crusher, Skeeter, say, 10% of every take a month? You’d be getting in on the ground floor, underwater technicalities aside, and the best suites would be yours for the taking before I let the rest of the business in on this?”
“Dibs on the furniture?” Titania asked with a raised eyebrow.
“Anything that suits your fancy.”
“Sounds good to us,” the Absorbing Pony agreed, reaching out to shake one of his tentacles. “How’s about after we’re done with the shrimp here I whip up some of my famous casserole to seal the deal?”
“Ah, Crusher,” Argo smiled, “you are a master negotiator.”
Arcade blinked then began to back up, bumping into the mirror.
“Now wait a moment!” he snapped, fumbling for a remote control in his breast pocket. One of Argonaut’s crystal tentacles snaked out and crushed it between its pincers. “Uh…what about you, Ms. Laser Lasher?! After all our previous--”
“Yeah, no,” Lyja said as the other villains side eyed her. “I just came to get my money back for your deadbeat disco trap and maybe beat you up a little. Go to town, everypony.”
She tapped a hoof against her segmented chin as the villains closed in on Arcade. “Though I have been looking for my own place…”
“Of course you have!” Arcade cried. “Destroy these fools and--”
“Shut up,” Lyja said simply, holding up a hoof. “That was 10%, wasn’t it, doctor?”
“For the time being,” Doc Argo said. Two of his tentacles made a shrug like gesture as Titania glared at him. “The cost of living in the city goes up all the time.”
“But-but-but,” Arcade spluttered, trying to dart this way and that, only to be blocked by his treacherous customers at every turn, “there’s so much more to show you! The doom room! The fun dungeon! Our five-star kitchen! We even have a pool!”
“We’re underwater,” Spellectro said, rubbing his crackling hooves together to build up a lethal charge.
“Uh…” The engineer looked over his shoulder and grabbed a wall mounted lamp. “You want character? Well how about our classic secret escape tunnels?!”
He yanked it down.
***
And suddenly the mirror was sliding into the ceiling, leaving Johnny and Spidey staring at a room full of some of Manehattan’s most wanted. Only mutual shock on all sides was keeping them alive.
Arcade pounced on the opportunity. “And two, not one but two, pesky superheroes, at no extra charge!”
“Spider-Pony!?” Doctor Argonaut snapped.
“It’s that pipsqueak from the Fantastic Family!” Titania yelled.
Lyja swore in Skrullian, taking a step back.
“Well bye!” Arcade shot forward, galloping past the villains and almost knocking her over as he shoved past her and out through the door.
“Hey!” Lyja spun, her eyes glowing with angry purple light as she bolted after him.
“Tag!” Spider-Pony yelled, leaping forward. He leap-frogged over the outraged Absorbing Pony’s buzzcut to tackled her into the hallway. “Hi, I’m your Friendly Neighbourhood Spider-Pony! Let’s be friends!”
The Torch made to blast off after them but came up short as the Absorbing Pony’s ball smashed into the ceiling just above him, forcing him to dart further back into the mirror maze.
“Yeah, fine!” he called after the web-head, forming a flame construct shield to block Spellectro’s bolts. “I’ll just hang out here, then!”
To be Continued