//------------------------------//
// A Daring Escape · Teen (Language, Rudeness) 
// Story: Anything Goes 
// by Roobles 
//------------------------------//

 
A Daring Escape: Anything Goes







The pain was the first thing he noticed.  Sharp, biting pain in his back right leg.  Must be broken.  Burns all along his left side.  Hurt like a diamond bitch, but nothing serious.  More scratches and cuts than he wanted to even think about.  

He tried to remember what happened.  The spell had gone wrong.  Must have been a leak within a reference between components.  Might have bridged a gap and caused a feedback.  Recursively casting, until the whole spell collapsed into its base component: raw magical energy.  Meltdown.  He couldn't remember.  He couldn't tell.  And right now his bucking head was too full of throbs to play the role of a Celestia-damned forensic scientist.  

But there was the explosion.  Falling.  Hitting the bucking ground.  Crawling on three hooves as everypony left him behind.  Bucking cowards.  Getting into that alley, and... He didn't know.  Now he was in some bed with an annoying machine that wouldn't stop beeping.  A sterile antiseptic smell lingering in the air, and the soft clopping of hooves somewhere outside of sight.  

"Buck it! Buck it!  BUCK IT!  Clop moi nethers, Oi'm in a buckin' 'ospital!"  

He shot up in bed, ignoring the complaints of a battered body.  

Hoofcuffs have to be first.  Focus on those, and the guards can be second.  Time matters more than grace; act before they can respond, and nopony will know what hit them.  Couple together an expansion spell with a clockwise rotor.  Apply enough force, and it  will either unlock the cuffs or bust open the locking mechanism.  Foal's play.  Curl the body, and the points of tension will be the restraints.   Keep a replicator primed in case of multiple cuffs.  

And go.

In one fluid motion, the colt curled up in a ball, cussed wildly from his broken leg, and tumbled out of bed.

"WHA'.  THAH.  BUCK!!!"

He writhed on the ground, kicking all four legs, tangling himself in sheets and tubes.  IV drip and fresh blood was well soaked into his fur, before he gave up and sighed.  Too exhausted to go on, he resigned himself to his fate.

"Foine, yah gol' plated bastards.  Do what you want, oim inno'cent.  Celestchya's moi wit'ness, Oi'll prove it!"

Silent treatment.  Always the silent treatment with those smug sons of mules. 

"Foine.  Buck you!  Oi'm outta here.  N'pony can detain an uh'standin citizen w'out pro'ble cause."

There was some commotion around him.  What sounded like a platter falling to the ground somewhere in the room, and the clopping of determined hooves outside the door.

"Nopony is trying to detain you, young colt!  And watch your language!  There are foals about!" came a stern, but feminine voice.  One which rather, didn't sound anything like a guard at all.  

Must be a detective.  

But if a detective came all the way out to the hospital, that meant he was a high priority target.  His identity was supposed to be under wraps, but this meant they knew who he was.  This meant they've been building a case against him.  Maybe there was a snitch within the club.  And maybe that meant the explosion wasn't quite an accident.  Maybe that meant he was left behind for a reason.  Buck them.  Buck them all to Tartarus and back!  He thought they were all in it together!  He thought they believed in the cause.  

But he couldn't focus on that at the moment.  What he needed was time.  

Keep the detective distracted and talking.   That will give time to assess the situation, and make a move from there.  Keep a kinetic dissonance spell primed, and be ready to switch it to something more destructive.

"You can't trick me into sel' incriminatin' ev'dence wit your false senses of security.  Oi know moi roights!"

Perfect.  Hit them directly with the object of their game, and they'll get flustered trying to come up with a response.

"Yes.  And everypony would be happier if you exercised your right to remain silent," came the surprisingly snarky response.  "Not to mention, you're distressing mr Shine over there.  And Luna knows he's been through enough lately."

That didn't sound right.  Not at all.  The colt gingerly moved the bed sheet away from his eyes to take a look at his aggressors.  What stood before him was a rather irate looking mare in a nurse's uniform, and a small collection of staff and patients by the door.  No guards.  No detective.  Just a bunch of confused, offended ponies that looked like they were trying to decide between scampering away and giving him a piece of their mind.

Well.  Ponyfeathers.