'Plotting' was Ahuizotl's middle name.
Well, actually it was more along the lines of 'Leslie', but that was besides the point. The point was that he could make plans so meticulously detailed that they could put a neurological surgeon into a coma. And then some. back at his temple home he'd had an entire room dedicated to creating carefully constructed replicas concerning the layout of different areas and the placement of his traps, and this new clubhou- Super-Evil-Fortress-of-Absolute-Evilness would be no different. Built beside the plotting area was a room stacked full of sand tables, blackboards and, courtesy of Ahuizotl, a projector.
It was a little known secret that one of Ahuizotl's favoured hobbies was model-making, something he'd been introduced to by his father. He'd left the temple he'd lived at stuffed with models and Warcanter completely un-nerdy and totally awesome trap designs. He took the trap-prototypes and left the... other stuff. Now that he had a crew to work with, he doubted he'd really have time for other hobbies.
His thoughts were interrupted as Chrysalis came wandering through the door, examining the handiwork of her changelings gleefully with her servant trailing behind her. "Oh Azzie, isn't it just wonderful!" she exclaimed. "But I'm so awfully sorry that we didn't include room for those adorable little toys of yours!"
"Not toys, models." he replied haughtily.
"Whatever you say, dearie."
She patted him motherly on the back, eliciting a small blush from his cheeks. "So, we're having a little get-together downstairs. A little celebration, if you will. Come along and join us, would you?" she asked. "It simply wouldn't do for our 'prestigious new leader' to miss out on all the fun, would it?"
"In a minute, I just want to... Well, just give me a minute, okay?" he said with a smile.
"Sure thing," she replied with a warm grin of her own. "Just don't take too long. My servants have baked a lovely coffee-cake, and it'd be an awful shame for you to miss out."
She disappeared through the doorway, leaving him alone with his carefully constructed models. he wandered over to one of the displays- a spike pit, one of his first creations. Of course it hadn't fared too well in actual use, seeing as its intended target possessed a pair of wings, but still, it had a somewhat sentimental value to it.
His father had loved making things, especially clocks and watches. He could remember sitting in his dad's lap and watching transfixed as his hooves delicately assembled the pieces of a watch. Every piece was important, from the largest spring down to the tiniest, most insurmountable gear. Watching him work was like watching an artist weave together a picture of bright silvers and golds, each seemingly simple piece falling perfectly into place.
Ahuizotl reached forwards and placed a finger on the model, activating the pressure-pad. The trap filled with faint clicks before the spikes sprang upwards with an almost silent *shing*, nearly skewering his finger.
He smiled to himself.
Like clockwork.
Trixie was feeling somewhat out of place.
When she'd answered to the mysterious, drunken phone-call, she'd been expecting a turnout a little less grand than this. Chrysalis, Queen of the Changelings, Sombra, former King and tyrant of the Crystal Empire, Discord, Lord of Chaos and Disharmony- she felt like a mouse among titans.
Of course she wasn't. She was the Great and Powerful Trixie, after all. One as mighty as herself deserved no less than a seat among the demigods and rulers. She was the embodiment of mysticism itself! The very essence of magic!
But that didn't stop her from feeling a little nervous...
Just a little bit.
She took a bite out of her slice of coffee cake, doing so as daintily as possible. She couldn't go presenting herself as a slob in front of such evil prowess, after all. Off to her left, Queen Chrysalis and King Sombra were engaged in a rather one-sided conversation. Aha, an opportunity to make herself known to the big-wigs! All she had to do was go over there and talk to them.
Just go over there and strike up a nice chat with the two infamous dictators.
Just talk to the unfathomably powerful half-gods...
No pressure.
She trotted over to them nervously, her slice of cake and cup of punch in tow. Oh sweet Celestia, they were looking at her now! Alright, play it cool, Trix. You've enslaved a village full of hicks before, you can certainly do this. Maybe it wasn't too late to turn around? No, come on, confidence Trixie, confidence.
"H-hey!" she said, a painfully forced smile across her lips. Of course, as fate would have it, her hoof caught on her cape and she tumbled forwards, her cup of punch tumbling from her grasp and sloshing onto Chrysalis.
Embarrassment. Awkwardness. Failure. Memories of high school came flooding back to her. Sitting alone at the back of the class, narrowly dodging whatever crap the bullies decided to toss at her on the way home, and the names, of dear Princesses the names...
Spaz, retard, nerd, Level fifty spergmancer, her classmates had been nothing if not inventive. She wondered grimly if Chrysalis would match them, closed her eyes and prepared for the worst.
"Whoopsy-daisy, aren't you the clumsy one?" said Chrysalis, whisking away the spilt punch with her magic. "Ah well, no harm done! Queen Chrysalis, and you are?"
Trixie opened her eyes to find a holed hoof in front of her, patiently waiting to be shook. No names? She took the hoof and shook it uncertainly, half expecting it to pull free and slap her round the face. "Trixie Lulamoon... Sorry."
"Oh that's quite alright," assured Chrysalis with a smile. "Come, sit with us, let me introduce you to my friend here." she said, all but dragging Trixie towards Sombra.
"CRYSTALS?" asked Sombra, examining Trixie with a mild curiosity.
"She says her name is Trixie Lulamoon," replied Chrysalis, shoving Trixie in front of him before turning to one of her minions. "You, why haven't you gotten a chair for Miss Lulamoon?"
"Y-you never asked-" stumbled the changeling.
"I never asked? I expect you to have some modem of common sense in that pitiful wasteland of a brain of yours! Now stop standing there gawking like a mouthbreather and find something for Miss Lulamoon to sit on!"
"It's no problem, really-" began Trixie.
"Now!"
The changeling zipped off with its tail between its legs before returning only seconds later with a chair clasped firmly in its shaking hooves. Trixie thanked it before sitting down, smiling awkwardly at the two behemoths of evil. To say she felt dwarfed was an understatement.
"So, Miss Lulamoon, I'm afraid that I haven't heard of you," said Chrysalis, sitting down next to her and casually crossing her legs. "You wouldn't mind filling us in, would you?"
"Oh, w-well Trixie is a travelling magician you see, and I... I uh..." she looked into the eager eyes of Chrysalis and Sombra, and her showpony heart took over. "We mean to say, we are the Great and Powerful Trixie, responsible for the enslavement of Ponyville and the wholesale destruction of Equestrian property!" she gave small flap of her cloak, a bit awkward, considering that she was sitting down, but dramatic nonetheless.
"MMMHMMM, SNRRK, GRRRLG CRYSTALS!" growled Sombra in what sounded like congratulations.
"The enslavement of Ponyville and property damage? How impressive!" cheered Chrysalis, offering a small, congratulatory clap of her hooves. Trixie puffed out her chest proudly. Yes, enslaving the same town in which the elements lived was a rather haughty achievement, she supposed, and as for the property damage... Well, she guessed she was kind of responsible for Ponyville's missing water tower in a very indirect way.
"Trixie humbly thanks you both for your kind words." said Trixie airily, an unfamiliar heat building up in her cheeks. Was she blushing? It had been so long since she'd received any genuine praise that she'd simply forgotten how good it felt.
"Well, it's only sporting that we give encouragement to the aspiring lightweights."
"Thank y- wait..." Trixie ran over Chrysalis' words in her head. "What do you mean by 'lightweight?'"
"Oh, you know," said Chrysalis with a dismissive wave of her hoof. "The greenhorns, the part-time villains, the one-step-above-street-thugs, the ah... what do you call it?"
"CRYSTALS?" interjected Sombra.
"The runt! Yes, that's it."
She should've told them to stick their 'runts' and 'greenhorns' up their royal arses. Should've backhoof'd that changeling cow silly and told King Sombra to cram his crystals where the sun don't shine.
Instead, she found herself forcing out a smile. "Well... One can't have the big without the small. Every litter needs a... runt." she choked the word out as if it were poison.
Chrysalis seemed happy, filled with a merriment one would expect from a loving mother rather than an evil dictator. "Oh, I like this one," she said to Sombra. "She knows her place."
'Knows her place'. It was like she thought of her as some sort of bloody house pet! Belatedly she bit back any snarky comments or witty quips. Being seen as the runt of the littler was bad enough-
But by Celestia, she knew that being the outcast was worse, and there was no way in Tartarus that she was going to subject herself to the same bullying she'd received in high school by pissing off the popular kids.
'Just swallow your pride and smile and laugh along with the yuppies, Trixie. Just smile and laugh. That isn't too hard, is it?'
Trixie smiled and laughed along with Chrysalis and Sombra, dying a little on the inside.
"So, y'know, I guess I'm just feeling a little lonely is all. I mean, being out here, in the jungle... I guess I'm just getting a bit of the ol' cabin fever, huh?"
Maurice stared back at her through his cage expectantly. She slid another cracker through the bars, and he nibbled at it eagerly. As cute as Daring's hamster was, it was hardly a competent conversationalist.
She sighed and slid back over to her desk where her typewriter and half-empty glass scotch waited for her. She'd found the bottle at the back of one of her drawers. She was never really one for getting drunk, but with nothing else to do she thought she might as well. Outside the crickets chirped in the night, and Daring Doo was reminded once again of how quiet everything was. She hated the quiet. Quiet meant boring.
She shook her head clear of the irritating silence and bent readily over her typewriter, poised almost like a jungle cat, ready to pounce.
'C'mon Daring, it ain't too hard. Just write something, you've done it a hundred times before. Think up some pretty words and put 'em on the paper.'
Instead, she merely stared at the blank piece of paper, her face caught somewhere between intense concentration and that dumbfounded look ponies get when they're halfway through taking a dump. The words refused to come, as they had for weeks now. With another frustrated sigh, she snatched up the glass of scotch and downed the rest of the glass, face curdling at the taste.
This wasn't her. She'd sat here, in this exact same chair, and fired out novels in under a month. She'd written award winning book series, won the hearts of thousands of fans and turned herself into a juggernaut in the literary business with nothing but this Celestia-damned typewriter! Now she couldn't even crank out a chapter. Pathetic.
She plunged her head into her forehooves and sighed again. This was all Monkey-Boy's fault! He'd been her unwilling muse for nigh on a decade, and now of all times he decides to just stop? Where was the sense in that? He was supposed to be some kind of evil mastermind, so why wasn't he pulling off any mastermind-ey stuff?
Her head popped upwards and her face lit up with a sudden revelation. That was actually a good question. Where was he? The Ahuizotl she knew would've made at least three attempts on her life by now. Was he planning something? Something big? What had him so preoccupied that he couldn't even spare the time to set up a good ol' spike pit outside her door?
Slowly a smile began to worm its way across her lips. Whatever he was trying to pull, she'd find out, and by Celestia would it make a decent book... An adventure-mystery, yes! 'The Mystery of Where the Heck Did Ahuizotl Get off To?' Well, she'd make the title a little bit smaller than that, but still!
She grabbed her saddlebags, her whip, and her trusty explorer hat. It felt wonderful to finally put that thing back on-liberating, even. After kicking about uselessly in this dank old hut of hers, she'd finally be getting something done. The wash of excitement and thrill was as exhilarating as always. She stopped herself as she reached for the doorknob. Could it be that Ahuizotl was just... having a holiday or taking a break or something? She tried to imagine the big ball of fur, claws and teeth kicking back at the beach or throwing a party and chortled out a laugh. No way. If she knew anything about Ahuizotl, it was that he was not the fun-loving type.
"Let Rover sing you song of his people!" slurred the dog stumbling across the table before letting out a guttural howl. The sound was ear-piercing. Luckily, A thrown can of lager connected with the diamond dog's face and sent him tumbling from the table before he could cause any permanent damage to everybody's ears.
Ahuizotl stood perplexed in the doorway, shocked at how easily the celebration had dissolved into chaos. He'd spent time with most of these guys before and he'd never seen them get so riled up before. Well, to be fair them, they had just completed what could be described as a doom-fort in the middle of a jungle. If that wasn't reason enough for celebration, he didn't know what was.
"Azzie!" called Chrysalis from across the room. "Come over here and meet our new friend!"
He budged and forced his way through the cramped room all the way to Chrysalis' side. She and Sombra were sat at a table, drinks in hooves. A unicorn sat opposite them, smiling happily. "Azzie, meet Trixie," she said, gesturing towards the unicorn. "She's the one who enslaved Ponyville."
Ahuizotl raised his brows in fake surprise. He'd never heard of Ponyville -sounded like some bumpkin town to him- but he wouldn't want to step on Trixie's metaphorical toes. The last thing he wanted to do was piss off the folks he'd be working with from hereon in. "Very impressive," he said, offering her his hand. "Nice to meet you."
She shook his hand, her smile never faltering. "likewise," she replied before leaving her chair. "If Trixie could be excused, she'd like to catch some fresh air." she offered Ahuizotl her seat before quickly taking off into the crowd. Back at the table, Chrysalis sighed wistfully.
"So nice to see the younger generations getting into the business, isn't it?"
Ahuizotl frowned. From what he knew about Chrysalis, and from the sad way Trixie had shuffled away, he reckoned there'd been more to Chrysalis' previous conversation with Trixie than shining compliments. He knew from experience that the changeling had a bit of a mean streak to her.
"You realize she's about my age, yes?" said Ahuizotl, sitting himself down in Trixie's chair.
"Really?" she asked, frowning. "Why, you must run yourself so ragged! Really Azzie, you should look after yourself more. You look twice your age!"
"As flattering as you are, I didn't come over to make small-talk, Chrysalis." he replied, changing the subject as quickly as possible. To be completely honest, she was probably right. He was hardly what he'd call the healthiest of guys-not with his diet.
"Oh? So what do you want to talk about, dear?"
He revealed the folder he'd been holding in his tail-hand and placed it on the table between them. "Business."
Daring Doo shuffled through the dark, moss-coated hallway uncomfortably. She'd taken exactly forty-eight steps into the temple and so far nothing had sawed her head off, burnt her to ashes or ripped her to shreds. It was... actually pretty terrifying. Ahuizotl was never this un-cautious. She could usually expect something to try and turn her into mincemeat every twenty steps or so (hence all the step counting), and as far as she knew, Ahuizotl hung around this area a lot. She'd never tried getting in before because the place had been absolutely swarming with those jungle cats that Ahuizotl loved, but when she came here this morning, she'd found the place deserted.
'fifty-eight, fifty-nine and sixty duckdodgeandroll!'
She made a fluid set of movements followed by a forward roll so fast that if an onlooker had blinked, they'd have missed it.
She'd been doing this every ten or so steps, just to be certain. You never know when you'll trigger an arrow trap and have to narrowly dodge out of the way of oncoming projectiles, after all.
...
Did I ever mention that Daring Doo was a very cautious pony? Because I'd like to reiterate that. Daring Doo was a very cautious pony, leaning towards paranoia. She couldn't go to bed at night without checking the closet for bombs, the toilet for poisonous snakes and her pillow for hidden bear traps.
Other ponies could laugh all they liked, but somebody had tried the bear trap pillow combination on her before. Twice.
Eventually the hallway opened out into a spacious, high roofed room with a surprisingly lived-in feel to it. An old recliner sat wedged into the corner along with a small coffee table, and a rusty old projector sat at the back of the room, crooked on its tripod. The floor was marked with areas untouched by dust, as if somepony had recently moved out and taken their furniture with them. The only other thing that was left in the room apart from the projector and the tattered old recliner and was an even older fridge, packed with enough snack foods and beers to make a dietician lose their lunch.
Something caught her eye through the doorway beside her. Was that... Warcanter? The room had several desks pressed up tight against the walls, different paint brushes and magnifying glasses strewn across them. A set of paints here, a scalpel there...
In the middle of the room though, was the centerpeice- a table filled with a little, plastic army. The soldiers were sorted into phalanxes and neat little rows, organized with meticulous care. At the base of the table there was a small, hand-crafted plaque which read:
Ahuizotl's property, paws off. That means you, Winston.
Sweet Celestia...
She was standing in Ahuizotl's home...
And he was a Warcanter fan.