The carriage pulls into the covered overhang just like it does every single morning, and like every single morning, at least for the past few weeks, I thank my lucky stars that we had it built for my private entrance. Despite the windows being tinted, and me going through the trouble of wearing sunglasses, somehow Celestia's sun always finds a way to aggravate the massive hangover that I have been nursing for the last hour and a half. The trip around the back of the massive RIC building, Rich Incorporated, takes less than two minutes and I peer out the window at all of the ponies just strolling into work.
One or two of them seem to be in a massive rush, one stallion in particular that was racing across the lot as we passed by, I had received several complaints of tardiness about him from one of my VPs. I believe I recall him working in R&R or something of the like, and he certainly looks to be the nerdy researcher type, brown coat with a disheveled beige mane flying in all directions as he races past my chariot, causing my driver to stop short, and himself to drop whatever papers he has with him. The wind carries them a little bit off down the lot and he races after them, no doubt he will be even later than he already is now, but I just nod to Handy at the front of the litter and we once again begin moving on our merry way around the building.
The RIC building definitely sticks out against the Canterlot skyline, it isn't beautiful to most, it isn't extravagantly ornate like most of the old architecture in the business sector of the city, and it most certainly isn't welcome here. In fact I had to fight tooth and nail just to get plans for the massive tower past the Noble Canterlot Beauty and Zoning Regulations board, but in the end when the right incentive was applied here and the correct leverage was placed there, they consented. Were I to look up at the tower, if we were out from beneath the overhanging that was still shielding me from the sun's harsh rays, my eyes would slowly gaze past all seventy-two floors fitted with magnificent reflective glass to the very top floor, where my office lays. Like many others who build such large monuments to themselves that dares scrape the sky, the top floor where I choose to do my business is completely decked out with everything I could need. Up there I have a balcony with a great view so that I can turn my chair around at any time and look out over Canterlot, a pool that I choose to take a swim in every once in a while, and of course a fully stocked bar, which would be the first thing I head towards this morning once we finally get to the door.
We stop around the back of the building, and other than a few maintenance workers there is nopony about. Handy steps down from the reigns in the front of the carriage and quickly walks around to my door to open it. Stifling a groan I step out of the litter and make my way down the single step and onto the cement, I don't exactly know how, but a beam of sunlight manages to pierce my defences, force me to bring and hoof to my aching temple.
"Your coffee sir," Memory says from just to my left. The uncanny ability of my assistant to somehow know whenever I was here, and always get the drop on me, used to startle me at first. In fact for the first few months that I had her on as my assistant I was nearly convinced that she was some sort of government agent sent to keep track of me, but after exhaustive background checks that turned out not to be the case. No, the lovely unicorn mare with an alabaster white coat and scarlet red mane that was always pulled back into a bun, was exactly what she pretended to be; the best damn assistant in the entire business.
I take the cup of coffee from her and also take a not too small drink, it burns as it goes down, mostly from the rum that she knows to put in it on a night after one of my outings, before I hand it back over to her. She takes it easily in her magical grasp, just has she has a hundred times before and the two of us head towards the double doors, which are just being opened by security as we approach.
"So Memory, what is on my schedule today?" I ask, as I nod towards a mare in a black suit holding the door open for me. Inside the building is bustling with activity, there are ponies rushing every way, each with their own little tasks to complete, and none with much any time to stop what they are doing. Despite that they all pause for a moment as we pass and greet me pleasantly, to which I merely nod to each of them in term. I used to think that maybe it was a little rude not to stop and greet them all back, but after two days of trying it I quickly learned that stopping to greet two-hundred ponies individually was just not a sound business plan.
"The first thing you have this morning is a meeting with Austere," Memory says as she stares down at the clipboard suspended in front of her, effortlessly navigating between the throng of employees.
"Cancel it," I say offhandedly, "he already knows what my answer to his proposal is, and I won't sit through another one of his thirty minute presentations on the benefits of expanding banking overseas."
"Yes sir," she simply replies as she crosses the first item off of the list. "Next is a meeting with the VPs."
I sigh, that was a different headache altogether. Funding, all they ever cared to bother me about was funding for their separate divisions. Why does Mocha's division always get dealt the bits first when the annual budget comes around, when all she does is head up R&R? Why are we putting so much money into the Power and Infrastructure divisions when Banking turns such a higher profit right now? That one was of course Austere as well. How come we are pouring countless bits into the Entertainment division to prop up coltbands and idols?
"Cancel that one too, I have no patience this morning to listen to Vice Presidents squabble over money like school children. In fact, cancel all of my appointments today, I think we will be relaxing today." I say as we finally make it all the way through the lobby and reach the elevators. Just as we come to a stop one of them opens up and ponies quickly scramble out and clear it so that we can enter.
"Certainly sir," Memory says as she crosses out the entire page. "That just leaves one last item for the day."
I step into the elevator just as the last employee literally leaps out of the way and onto the floor of the lobby. I take another sip of my morning “coffee” before handing it back over to Memory who doesn’t mind one bit being used as a cup holder. “And what would that be?” I ask, as the doors shut behind the both of us.
I hit the buttons 1, 14, 52, and 23 on the elevator which is the command to take us up to my office. I am pretty sure that far too many of the ponies in the building know the combination, but I like having it anyways, if just to feel a little bit cooler.
“Princess Twilight’s birthday celebration is this afternoon,” Memory replies as she flips over the page on her clipboard. “You made a special note here to remind you not to miss it.”
“It’s her birthday again already?” I could have sworn I had just gone to one of those overblown extravaganzas not more than a week ago. “Didn’t she just have one last week?”
“No sir, it has been exactly one year since her last birthday,” Memory says flatly.
“Then what was that social I went to last week. The one with the drinking and annoying nobles.” I look to the elevator dial and see we are on the 45th floor.
“The Summer Sun Celebration, sir. Your evening was well documented in the tabloids,” She replies, I think I catch a little bit of disappointment in her voice though I am not exactly certain.
“Oh yes, Crystal...Crystal...something. Never did follow up with her.” We reach the top floor and the elevator opens, letting us walk out into the large and spotless reception area. “Send flowers or something won’t you, I think I will be working in my study today,” I say as I begin to walk towards my office doors.
“Yes, a nice card and flowers had already been sent to let the poor mare down easy sir, but there is another addendum to the schedule today,” Memory says, causing me to turn back and look at her. She is smirking, which only tells me that she has a bit of bad news to deliver. “Your brother is here to see you.”
“It is just…no it’s not irresponsible it is stupid!” Burnt yells at me from his pacing spot in my office. Every time he danes come to my office he finds that special strip of tile without fail, I have been thinking about having that little strip painted a different color to make it easy on him.
“Stupid might be a little harsh.” I say, leaning back in my chair.
“Harsh?” he stops for a moment and gives me a death glare. “No, if I were to say that recreating culture from our home, and implanting it here was the most moronic thing I had ever heard would have been harsh. Just calling it, and you, stupid seems to be very appropriate.”
“Well I have to admit that our whole Evanescence project isn’t exactly selling out. A shame because our vocalist is insanely talented. My One Direction knockoff on the other hoof is doing insanely well, you should see our profit margins on ticket sales alone, not to mention the resale for their music.” I start opening one of the drawers on my desk to pull them out, but he stops me with another outburst.
“I don’t give a damn how much money you are making!” He glares again for another minute before standing up straight and taking a calming breath. Some part of my pride is still a little hurt that in the end he would end up being the taller one. Not that he ever really lost his lithe form, but even the casual observer could tell that the pegasus in front of me was built for speed, and the few scars marking him here and there gave away just what kind of experience he had in the air. “Don’t you understand me. You cannot use this kingdom as your own personal playground to make mountains of bits. You can’t just take one world and mash it with another for your own personal gain. You aren’t a god.”
I spend a moment to close my drawer lightly, and to place my hooves together on the desk in front of me. “No, I am not a god. We have a few of those in the city, but as of yet I am not one of them. I am just the stallion of the century, that has spent his entire adult life helping to shape Equestria for the better, at least that is what the Equestrian Times said about me a few months ago,” I reply, casually nodding my head to the framed magazine on the wall.
“And you think…”
“I think, that despite whatever you may say, what I have brought to this kingdom has been for its betterment. I have accelerated Equestria’s development decades by myself, and if I want to start turning my hoof towards pop music just so that I can have what I want playing on the radio, then that’s what I am going to do,” I say, cutting him off from whatever it was he was going to say.
“You are a narcissistic megalomaniac that would rather sit up here in his pretend castle than actually see what is going on in the cities you pretend to benefit,” He says with a sad shake of his head.
“You know that I have seen how bad it really is,” I almost whisper. He looks up at me as I do, and we just sit there in silence for a few moments. “So,” I begin after a minute or two just to break the silence, “how are the kids?”
Burnt smirks and even lets out a dry laugh as he turns his head away to stare out the window behind me. “They are doing well, Platinum starts school in a few days and Jade is teaching her about how she should be acting while they are in school together.”
“Already starting school,” I say turning my head slightly to peer out at the Canterlot skyline. “Seems like just yesterday you were freaking out about settling down.”
Burnt’s smirk becomes a full smile as he looks back to me. “It’s a little cliche to say, but they do really grow up right before your eyes. Maybe you should try and settle down yourself. Find a good mare that isn’t just looking to be with you for a night so that she can get her picture in Equestria Daily. You aren’t getting any younger you know.”
“You know I am not the type to settle for anything. Besides, I have barely any time on my hooves as it is. No, you can live the happy family life, I have my own road to travel down.” There is a knock at the office door and Memory lets herself in.
“Mr. Steel, it is eleven,” She says. Steel sighs and turns towards the door, and begins to leave the office..
“Thank you Memory,” he says as he passes her, “try to talk some sense into my idiot brother won’t you.”
“That is what I am here for,” she replies, earning a laugh from Steel as he leaves.
Memory is just about to close the door and return to her desk outside when I catch her. “Memory, would you bring in the paper for today and give me the highlights?” I ask. She nods and closes the door behind her. I sit back in my chair and spin it all the way around so that I might gaze out at the city. Canterlot really is a beautiful city, most of the buildings are quite old, maintained with spells so that they never fall into disrepair. Still, some ponies, myself for instance, have cleared spots and built modern skyscrapers like the ones you would be more want to find in Manehatten. Many of the nobles see the soaring mirrored buildings as abominations in their midst, but I choose to see them in a brighter light. Within a city built to give reverence to the old ways that Equestria has been stuck in these monoliths throughout the city are an assurance of change.
The door opens once again behind me and I hear Memory enter once more and close the door again before making her way across the office to my desk behind me. “Shall I just dive into it then?” she asks.
“If you would,” I reply without turning around.
“Top story on page 1, Royal Birthday of Princess Twilight. This evening is sure to kick off with a bang as the Princess welcomes all ponies to her birthday celebration at the castle this evening, while all are allowed entrance…”
“Next,” I say simply.
“Next is an interview with Princess Twilight. It looks like she spends most of her time trying to address turmoil in the capitol, but all the interviewer cares about is what she will be wearing tonight,” Memory sums up for me.
“Who cares about what is actually happening when we still don’t know what colors the Princess will be wearing tonight,” I say, laughing a little.
“On the next page we have something you would be interested in. Local Billionaire Ashen Stroke Seen With Lady Morning Sage. For those of you that don’t know Lady Morning Sage is the wife of Baron Red Shrub, a noble railroad tycoon that has a monopoly on the rail industry from Manehatten to Phillydelphia. Last night the wife of the baron was seen entering and exiting the Twisted Leg with our own local playstallion Ashen Stroke. I am sure I don’t have to remind any of you readers, but the Twisted Leg has quite the reputation for… What were you doing with a baron’s wife, sir?” Memory asks, something a little out of the norm for her.
“It doesn’t really matter does it. Shrub is going to be too busy consoling his already shaky shareholders to care much. Is there a picture?” I ask as I turn my gaze to the Royal Castle. It has grown over the years, and the very highest spire is perfectly eye level with my office. Amazing how that happened completely by coincidence.
“Yes, they managed to get your good side as the two of you are exiting the club. Photo by Quick Pic,” she says.
“So what’s up next in the good ole EQD?” I ask.
She turns the page again before reading, “Explosion in Cloudsdale. A local manufacturing building owned by Duke Sleet was completely leveled in a massive explosion yesterday. Just another in a long rash of industrial attacks that have been plaguing our kingdom as of late, and still there has been no answer for how these attacks have been carried out. All we know for certain is that we don’t know anything. Stalwart, a captain in the local guard…”
“Next,” I say, dismissing the story.
Memory sighs but begins reading the next story regardless. “The band Northwest, is halfway finished with its nationwide tour. Record numbers for the coltband have been reported across the board, and as they prepare to play in the massive Canterlot stadium on the eighteenth, some critics believe that not all their fans will be able to get into the arena built to hold 40,000. Despite being completely sold out there are still ponies flocking to the city to see Northwest play in a few days, leaving all of the local hotels completely full up…”
“It is nice to see our little project succeeding,” I say, bringing her to a stop once more.
“Most of your projects do,” she replies. “That is all of the highlights you might be interested in for today’s issue, sir. Shall I go and see if your wardrobe for tonight’s party is ready?”
“Yes,” I say, prompting her to leave. “Oh, and make sure that Quick Pic receives her regular fee won’t you. We wouldn’t want her services to stop.”
“Yes sir,” Memory says from the door as she closes it behind her, leaving me alone in the office. I continue staring out the window, admiring the city from my vantage. Tonight will be a good night.
We pull up to the front of the castle, and the lights start flashing in front of the litter immediately. My sunglasses are already on to help shield myself from the flashes of the cameras, but the dozens of paparazzi standing on the sides of the red carpet leading up to the door are too much for my glasses to handle. I squint behind them as I falsely smile and wave to the swell of reporters. I step onto the carpet, and send my driver off. I am wearing my most dashing suit, since this is such a special occasion, and after I have gotten enough pictures in I begin heading towards the actual entrance of the castle. I see a stallion with a microphone quickly walking towards me down the red carpet with a cameramare trailing behind him.
“Mr. Stroke. Mr Stroke,” he says as he comes to a stop in front of me and cuts me off from proceeding, forcing me to stand there and give him at least a few lines. “You seem to have arrived alone, any hints at who you will be leaving tonight’s party with?”
I find a path around him and start walking towards the entrance, of course he doesn't stop and continues to follow me. “I’m sure you will be the first to know,” I say as I continue walking.
“There has been talk that your investors are losing trust in you because of your evening outings. Is that true?” He shoves the mike into my face, but this isn’t the first time I have had to deal with pushy interviewers.
“If my investors can think of any reason that they should get rid of their golden goose then I am not doing my job am I?” I reply, we are nearly to the door and away from this oppressive atmosphere.
“What about the rumors that you are funneling bits into frivolous projects like Northwest? Is it true that you are trying to build a monopoly in the music business before you reveal some kind of new technology to revolutionize it?” I chance a sidelong glance at the reporter as we reach the door, I don’t recognize him and I usually know all of the ponies that run the Canterlot circuit. I have no idea where he is getting these “rumors” but these questions aren’t good for my image.
“What’s your name?” I ask as I come to a stop in front of the guards that are holding the entrance.
“Whistle Blower,” he says, making me smirk down at him, of course it is. He is pretty young, must be just out of his collegiate studies at whatever university they are recruiting from these days, but something strikes me about the yellow unicorn.
I reach into my jacket pocket and retrieve one of my business cards. “Here is my card, tell Memory that I gave this to you personally and that we need to set up an interview to discuss these ‘rumors’ as you put them.” I flick the card over to him and watch him scramble to catch it. “Now if you’ll excuse me I have a party to attend.”
I turn and enter the castle, the guards don’t give me any trouble, my demeanor is enough to let them know that I am obviously on the list. That, and I may have tossed them a few bits as I passed as well. The reception room of the castle is even more spectacular than it usually is, lavender and magenta streamers hang from the ceiling as well as the walls. Stars of the same colors drift around in the air, illuminating the room where all the nobles from all over the kingdom have gathered tonight. Yes, the party was supposed to be open to anypony that wanted to come, but unknown to the princess there are certain requirements imposed by those that actually put together and run the party that they would never be able to meet.
Caterers were making their rounds through the party while most of the ponies, who had dropped more bits on their outfits than most made in a year, talked and mingled. Not that I could say I was to be excluded from the group, this hoofstitched suit that I so handsomely wore had been ordered from Prance, I couldn’t really recall who had been the one to make it, but as I approached Madam Canary that didn’t really matter. The mare was of course a very bright yellow, and was one of the more interesting social butterflies that would frequent these events, and while talking with the mare was always good to get the latest gossip on the inner circle of the Canterlot elite, it was her daughter that had always brought me calling.
“My magnificent Madam,” I greet her with once I arrive before her, with a little bow.
She lets loose a retrained guffaw “Why Mr. Stroke, you do this old mare such courtesy with your greeting. What brings you over to my little corner of this evening’s festivities?” She levitates a snack from a passing tray and delicately takes a bite.
“Well I had been searching for Lady Bloom, but for the life of me I cannot seem to find her,” I reply.
“Do you aim to put my daughter in the paper this time, Mr. Stroke? Care that my husband not catch you sniffing about or you might find yourself in quite the predicament.” Not a very veiled threat, but I know that she doesn’t truly mean it.
“Now sending the captain of the guard after just a lowly businesspony might be a little overkill don’t you think?” I ask, picking up a glass of wine from a passing caterer.
“In your case I think it would be completely appropriate, besides, Bloom is off with her friends in Cloudsdale so I am afraid you won’t be seeing her this evening.”
“That is too bad.” I sigh with mock disappointment. “Speaking of Cloudsdale, have you heard anything about the explosion that happened yesterday?” I ask as I take a sip of my wine. I swirl the glass a bit and admire the drink, all wine taste the same after a point but I was glad to be starting the night off with something good.
“Nothing more that what I read in the paper this morning. A terrible, terrible thing that has been going on these past weeks. I just don’t know why anypony would be blowing up factories around Equestria. It just makes no sense at all. Sleet is beyond himself, this is the third of his factories to be targeted you know,” she confides.
“I was completely unaware,” I lie. “Is the duke with us tonight?” I ask, looking around.
“He made his appearance early and left just before you arrived. I am sure he has a lot on his mind at the moment, so I don’t think anyone will blame him for exiting before the guest of honor arrives,” she says, finishing off her appetizer.
“Speaking of, when is the Princess arriving?” I ask, and suddenly the stars that play above all of us begin to change their color to white and move towards the staircase.
“Why Mr. Stroke, I believe your timing is just as perfect as ever,” Madam Canary says from my left as all eyes turn to where the stars are gathering together at the top of the stairs. A multitude of the shining lights continue to swirl together until they form a ball the size of a beachball, and then in an instant all of the lights in the room go out.
We stand there in darkness for a few seconds before lanterns placed all about the room spring to life, illuminating the hall once again and giving light to Princess Twilight Sparkle standing at the top of the stairway in all of her glory. Though not quite as tall as Luna, and without the regal bearing of Celestia, Princess Twilight has her own beauty that is quite unique. She holds herself high as she gracefully descends the stairway, every step sending a small trail of light falling from her ever flowing mane. As she reaches the bottom of the stairs spotlights hit her from the top of the room, but she couldn’t care in the least.
“Welcome beloved guests,” she proclaims from her slightly raised marble platform halfway down the stairway. “Thank you all for coming tonight, it brings me great pleasure to see so many in attendance. There could be nothing I would want more that on my birthday that to be surrounded by great ponies such as you, so please, for me, enjoy yourselves to the fullest tonight,” she says, raising a cheer from the ponies watching below. Most stamp in approval, and some of the younger, less restrained, ponies go as far as yelling their praises to the roof. I however, am far filled with joy as I stare at the magenta eyes of the Princess which have been focusing on me for the last twenty seconds. My stomach tightens and somewhere deep inside I know that something has gone very wrong.
“Eloquent as always isn’t she,” Madam Canary says, motioning to the Princess that was now making her way to the main floor to speak with her guests.
“Yes,” I say, taking a sip from whatever alcoholic beverage the caterer passing us was serving. I think it is some kind of bourbon, but my attention is completely focused on the Princess at the moment. I know that look she had just given me had meant something, not that she had ever really shied away from staring me down whenever she saw me, so suspicious even after all these years. That had been something different though, there was purpose behind it.
“You seem to be rather preoccupied all of a sudden Mr. Stroke. Did the Princess’ speech truly move you so much, a simple pleasantry I assure you,” she goes on to say, and I catch out of the corner of my eye her smirking. I down the rest of my drink, and set it aside on a random table.
“I have no doubt, but still the words truly struck deep so I feel compelled to pay my compliments directly,” I say as I begin to move towards the throng of ponies now starting to gather around the guest of honor.
“Well if you do feel that way I suppose it is only right to thank her in person,” Madam Canary consents as I take my leave.
In just the few short seconds that the princess has been talking with ponies, and impenetrable wall flank-kissers has already been erected. Mostly they are wishing her a happy birthday, and complimenting her dress, and oh so unsubtly hinting at some problem they have that could be fixed by a wave of the royal wand. That is, until I hear a mare speak up above the others.
“Princess, why have you not released the identity of the mare that bombed my husband’s factories?” asks Hailstorm, wife of the good Duke Sleet. I find a line of sight over the shorter mares gathered in a circle around the brewing conversation just in time to see Princess Twilight recover from such a direct question.
She looks over Hailstorm, a unicorn mare whose coat and mane are made up of the obvious colors one with her name would have, light blue and white, before speaking to her in a completely level and controlled voice. “Now Mrs. Hailstorm, I don’t know where you have heard such rumors.”
“I have heard from several sources that are currently stationed in Cloudsdale that you have the bomber in custody, but are holding off on saying anything. Who had been doing this to me and my family, I think all of the ponies here who have been affected by this mad bomber deserve to know who it is,” Hailstorm replies, treading carefully not to be demanding or disrespectful. I hear a few murmurs of agreement from those around, but I can’t really make out anything they are saying, it is all I can do to hold a straight face and not pass out on the floor.
The princess sighs, “There is a reason to not say anything, and I am not about to divulge it in a public setting. Until it is a wise idea for any such information to go public I hope you won’t continue spreading these baseless rumors, Mrs. Hailstorm.”
Hailstorm opens her mouth to say something else, but smartly closes it and gives a bow to the alicorn before her. “Of course Princess,” she says before rising and walking off.
As if nothing had happened the princess turns back to the ponies around her, and gives them an award winning smile. “Now I hope we can all return to enjoying the festivities,” she says as the crowd forgets the small episode of tension and returns to their ladder climbing.
I don’t have time for anymore of it as I turn, and immediately head for the door; taking a pace that isn’t too fast as to cause anypony to notice me, but not very leisurely either. I almost make it to the door before out of nowhere a much older red stallion steps from a group I am passing, and blocks my path.
“Ashen Stroke,” Baron Red Shrub says as he pulls himself to his full height, just a head short of me but a purposeful move all the same. “Why is it that when I opened the paper today I find a picture of you leaving a filthy night club with my wife,” he asks, jabbing me in the chest with a hoof as he does so.
“I don’t have time for this right now,” I say, attempting to move around him, but he blocks my path once again.
“I will not be ignored, nor will I allow you to affront my honor by sneaking off behind my back with one of my wives. I will have an answer from you here and now,” he says, forcefully jabbing me again in the chest.
Normally I would have simply let the scenario play out, I might even get a kick out of pummeling this guy, that is until he resorted to using magic and wiped the floor with me, but right now I had zero time to waste. What the Baron really needed right now was a good push onto an undeniable lie. “That wasn’t your wife Baron,” I say, giving my best and most believable smile. “That was the twin that your wife had, but died when they were both so young. It’s a sad tale really, but ever since finding herself alive again she has been in need of somepony to show her around the world, and I felt the need to step in.”
The baron stares back at me straight faced for a minute, and I feel a migraine begin to push it’s way into my skull, but still I maintain my fake smile and look him dead in the eyes. “Oh, well that would explain it. Really, I don’t know where the Equestrian Daily gets their facts but they really need to do more than just scratch the surface of a story,” he says as he takes a step away.
“Don’t I know it my friend,” I reply, laying a hoof on his shoulder. “There is someplace that I need to be right now so if you wouldn’t mind…”
He quickly steps out of my way to allow me passage. “Oh yes of course, sorry to trouble you over such a silly misunderstanding. Have a good night,” he says as he walks back over to the group he was talking with. As he turns I drop my smile, and soothingly rub my temple with my left hoof. I finally get to the door, and begin to head past the line of ponies taking pictures of everypony coming and going.
That had been sloppy, even by my standards, but it would get him off my back for a few hours at least, “Ashen Stroke!” or maybe just a few seconds.
I sprint the rest of the way down the red carpet and jump into the nearest litter, which just so happened to be one that some poor aristocrat had just hailed. “Where to?” the driver asks through the little window that looks back into the main compartment.
“The residential area, uptown,” I reply as I watch a very pissed off red stallion come running out of the party towards where we are pulling away. “And make sure we get there quickly.”
I angrily slam the door of my apartment as I walk inside, calling it an apartment might be a bit of an understatement since it took up three whole floors of the building, but whatever. I toss the suit jacket I’m wearing on the floor along with my tie as I walk past the living area, that has similar pieces of clothing littering the floor. I don’t stop in the kitchen as I keep on my straight path to the bedroom, not that I have even been in the kitchen for a few weeks now. The bedroom is in just as bad of shape as the rest of the apartment, but I don’t pay it any mind as I head over to the left wall of the room, where a picture of Burnt Steel and I laughing as kids hangs.
I put my hoof against the one being held up in the photograph, and runes embedded in the picture spring to life, sending a green spiraling energy out of the photograph to create a glowing outline of a door on the wall. After a few seconds the glowing begins to calm down, and with a loud clunk the hidden passage moves away to reveal the hidden room where I keep my important work. Without further delay I move into the room and kick the door closed behind me.
I stand there looking around my little private workspace for a moment, some old discarded projects lie half finished on the workbench to my right. The lamp on my desk illuminates the small space, and the incredible mess of papers that cover every visible corner of the desk. Above said desk, a spiderweb of photos and newspaper clippings cover nearly the entire wall, connected by strings and tape that have taken me weeks to put together. I walk forward to the wall, and look over my work.
Every newspaper article that has been written about the recent bombings is placed before me, along with the travel plans of various ponies that have been moving in and out of the cities. I look to a particularly flattering photo of Bloom, and follow the line of destruction trailing through the cities that she has been frequenting as of late. There are more photos of various ponies, and more disasters that have been occurring around Equestria, even if the news hasn’t picked up on them yet, but all that draws my attention at the moment is that carefree smile Bloom has as she looks at the camera. This must have been taken right around her sophomore year at Canterlot University, I could tell because she still had that youthful spark in her eyes.
“Fuck!” I yell as I kick the desk near me. “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” I go on, throwing papers every which way and tearing whatever I can reach off the wall. “Mother fucking god damn son of a bitch. Why! Why did you have to get caught!” I rage, staring back at the picture of her hanging up on the wall, but she doesn’t look to care in the least. “Why would you do this now? What the fuck were you thinking? I told you no go, I said not to fucking do it this time god dammit!” Still the photo remains aggravatingly happy.
I turn back to kicking my desk, only managing to stop myself after I feel the strong oaken side of it eventually give out a crack after my repeated abuse. My migraine has worked itself into full swing and I have to take a moment to catch my breath and recover. I stand there, motionless, illuminated by the light of the lamp that had fallen from the desk during my tirade, but remained mercifully in tact. I don’t know how long I stand there, eyes closed as I try to come up with some modicum of a plan on how to proceed. It’s difficult to pull myself back together, but eventually I succeed enough to look down at the mess I have made around me.
I bend over and lift up a news article about an old apartment complex being condemned in Trottingham due to a rat infestation. Recalling the trouble it had taken to get that one pulled off back then brought a half-hearted chuckle from my lips, and with a sigh I looked back to the half destroyed web that still hung on the wall. I closed my eyes once more, and tried to recall where this had gone. It took a moment, but eventually I was able to remember, and I pinned the article back into it’s proper place. Resigned to the task, I slowly began to reassemble the web. It would be important to help me figure out how exactly I was going to proceed with this unfortunate turn of events.