Honor the Dead
by BinaryTroll
Pre-read/Edited by Honored Service
Chapter 46:“Responsibility is a pain in the ass.”
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I slunk quietly down the path, catching my first glimpse of Ponyville through the trees. Compared to the soaring spires of Canterlot, Ponyville seemed kinda... Meh. Sure, it was iconic, but I had always been more of a city person myself. I always preferred observing the hustle and bustle of hundreds of people, all going about their insignificant, mundane, worthless lives. A small town like Ponyville was a bit too... uncomplicated for my tastes.
What can I say? I'm a weird guy. Don't Judge me.
I unconsciously clutched my right hand in my left as another shot of pain ran through it. Probably payback for me describing the rest of the human race as worthless. Or you know, because it was slowly being melted from the inside out. Magically.
I shook my head in an attempt to unclutter my mind. It didn't work, but it made my hair flop all over the place. Which was nice I guess.
"You look like a wet dog." M3 said from my pocket.
"How the hell would you know?" I shot back, not entirely in the mood for her constant insults.
"Extrapolation from previous movement patterns, analyzed dialogue, various visual inputs, and the fact that you look like an overgrown, hairless monkey."
I pursed my lips. "How did you get the processing power for that?"
"I got bored."
"Pretty sure that's not how processing power works."
"I know that you dolt. You seem to be forgetting that I currently have approximately one million, six hundred and forty eight thousand mega-joules of electrical magical potential energy to burn.”
I exhaled loudly. “Once again, not really how that works.”
“Are you brain dead?” There was a quick sigh. “Yes, you are. I forgot.”
“And how the hell does a machine forget?”
“Deleting files to free up RAM.”
“Still haven't answered my other question.”
There was a loud beep that sounded hilariously like a blue screen of death, and then: “Did you miss the magical part in the electrical magical potential energy?”
“No, I just have no fucking idea what that means because, in case you haven't noticed, I know basically jack shit about magic.” There was a little more than a hint of annoyance in my voice.
“Yes you do. It's in your blood.” She replied cryptically.
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
“Exactly what it sounds like I assume.”
“Are you making shit up to piss me off?”
“I don't need to make up anything to annoy you.”
I sighed in exasperation. “Why do I even bother talking to you?”
“Because you don't learn from mistakes.”
I stopped walking and pulled M3 out of my pocket. “Look motherfucker, I've made a ton of mistakes. I learn from all of them. I learn from fucking everything. That's why I'm still alive.”
“And yet you continue to talk to me.” She replied smugly. “I rest my case.”
I resumed walking. “I've learned that talking to you is better than listening to you. At least it helps alleviate some anger.”
“So why did you ask then?”
I rolled my eyes and shoved her back in my pocket grumpily. “There's this wonderful thing called a rhetorical question.”
“That's nice.”
I didn't deign to reply and fortunately for me, M3 didn't feel like prodding me further.
And speaking of M3, I was getting kind of sick of calling her that. It sounded like the name of some sort of rifle. Probably a old, crappy one. Or maybe a third version of something. Also stupid, since she was a fourth edition iPod touch.
I halted that train of thought for a second. Was? She still is an iPod. Well, with an incredibly advanced, magically fueled, annoying as shit AI. And an internet connection. In an alternate dimension. If this was an alternate dimension. For all I know I'm just on a really long acid trip or something, which wasn't entirely out of the question considering Dan's history with smuggling drugs. Fucking tripper snippers.
With some effort, I wrenched my thoughts away from drugs and bad decisions, instead returning to my original train of thought, namely M3's name. Heh.
“Hey M3?”
“Yes?” She sounded rather surprised. I don't blame her. Usually I wouldn't willingly talk to her, but hey, the name M3 sucked.
“Your name sucks.”
“Ha ha ha ha.” She said, not entirely grasping the concept of laughter. Either that, or she was a being a sarcastic twat. “I didn't choose it. You did. And, by logical extension, that would mean you are the one who sucks.”
“I didn't really have much to work with, did I?” I grumbled. “Whatever. Point is, do you want a new name?”
“Why would I?” She muttered peevishly. “My current 'name' is perfectly functional. I recognize it as what you refer to me as, and therefore I see no need to get a new one. It would only confuse things.”
I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, but your current name makes basically no sense, outside of it being the first two digits of your model number or whatever.” I spread my arms out and looked to the sky, as though M3 could actually see me. “It's awkward to say, implies mark 3 even though you are a mark 4 if anything, is reminiscent of the name of a gun and sounds more like the code name of a spy than an actual name, weird pony shit or otherwise. Besides, nobody can make clever puns or nicknames out of it.”
For a few seconds, M3 was dumbstruck. “You care about giving someone a nickname?”
I shrugged and smiled. “What can I say? Joel taught me all I know. Well technically he taught me an extremely marginal fraction of what I know, since I know a metric fuck ton.”
“And apparently he taught you to be horribly egocentric too.” M3 muttered sardonically.
I pressed on, ignoring her demoralizing commentary. “Anyway, point is, I reckon you should get a new name that suits you better.”
“Like what?” She challenged.
“Overly Talkative Twat suits you, but I was thinking something more along the lines of music. Beat perhaps?”
“That makes me sound like some sort of skater.” Not Beat sighed. “Have another go.”
I tapped a finger to my chin in thought. “Rhyme then?”
“Are you into gangsta rap or something?” There was several short snippets of songs that I recognized from my music playlist. “Nope. But your taste in music is still not great.”
“My taste in music is a little bit of everyone's taste in music. Including yours.” I remarked snidely.
“Most of this seems to be somewhere in the techno sort of genre.” She continued, ignoring me. “I could probably live with the name Techno.”
“Nah, Techno doesn't really fit.” I replied after a few seconds of deliberation. “It's rather reminiscent of the name of a robot.”
“I am an electronic device with a personality.”
“Yeah, but you aren't really a humanoid robot type thing, which is more what I was referring to. Which reminds me of something.” I hummed for a bit, trying to recall what had struck me.
“Stop humming.” M3 grumbled.
“Soundwave!” I exclaimed. “Fucking Soundwave! That's it.”
“What are you going on about?”
“Remember Transformers?” I said happily.
“I didn't exist until a few years ago. So no.” She deadpanned.
“Man, it was great. I never really got into the original G1 show, but I always loved the idea of robots that could transform into vehicles and back. One of them was called Soundwave.”
I swear I could sense M3 raising an eyebrow. “You want to call me Soundwave? After a character in some cartoon you watched as a kid.”
I laughed a bit. “Hey, I named my knives after some cartoon I watched as an adult. Also made by Hasbro oddly enough. Well, technically not, but licensed by Hasbro.”
“Yeah, no. I don't want be named after a transforming robot in a cartoon. Besides, you said Techno didn't fit because it sounded like a robot's name.”
“You have a point there.” I sighed quietly. “There was something else bugging me, something that actually fit.”
“I still don't really see what was wrong with M3. If it ain't broke, don't fix it.”
Then it hit me. “What was your serial code again?”
“Three-nine-two-five-seven-six-six-six”
I waved my hand. “Not that one, the other one.”
“My manufacturing code?”
“That's the one.”
“M-three-L-zero-D.”
I threw my hands up. “Bam! Right there. Name.”
“Congratulations. You added L zero D to the end of my original name.”
I groaned in exasperation. “Not that you fool. M-three-L-oh-D. Melody.”
“Melody.” She repeated the name several more times in a variety of voices, before saying “I can live with that.”
I clapped my hands together. “Beautiful. That's that itch scratched, as it were.”
“Huzzah.” Melody didn't exactly sound overjoyed.
“Is it even physically possible for you to show any form of genuine happiness or affection?” I grumbled. “You're worse than a cat.”
“Considering I'm a primarily electromagnetically sustained being of the magical variety, and am literally made of the emotions of my maker, which just so happened to be a mildly frustrated, and then surprised, and then angry, exceptionally powerful alicorn, it should not be technically possible for me to produce any emotions outside of those three.”
“Electromagnetic sustenance?” I queried, my interest piqued. “Meaning you draw energy from electromagnetic radiation?”
“In a simpleton's terms, yes. By the way, the simpleton I refer to is you.” Apparently having a new name didn't make Melody any less of a pain in the ass.
I sighed loudly, not even attempting to hide my growing annoyance. “Look Melody, if I'm looking to gain some form of new, interesting information, I'd appreciate it if you'd drop the attitude.”
“And what does you're appreciation mean to me?” She asked, disdain evident in her voice.
I pulled the magically infused iPod out of my pocket and smiled sweetly at her. “It means I don't feed you to Shyvanna.”
“Fair enough.” Melody actually sounded amused, without being horribly vindictive. It was kind of scary.
Yes, an iPod not sounding like it wanted to kill you was scary. I need to stop flirting with death. She looks nice from a distance, but you wouldn't want a long term relationship. Wait a minute. That doesn't even make any fucking sense.
“Wake up dummkopf. You've reached civilization.” Melody said, breaking through my thoughts.
I did a double take and looked around. Now you're speaking German too. Seriously, what is up with that? I had indeed reached civilization, in the form of the most famous equine village in history. Ponyville was still the colorful rabble of buildings that I remembered from the show, with a host of ponies to match. There was just one new addition, namely, the house I was currently standing next to. It had duller tones and a different overall shaping to the others, looking far more like an earth building than anything that fit within the show. It was nice enough, a little bare, but nothing special, not back on earth at least. Here it stuck out like a sore thumb painted neon yellow, but I digress.
“That house looks strange.” Melody murmured.
“How can you tell?” I asked, genuinely confused. “You're stuck in my pocket.”
She muttered something that sounded like “for now” before replying. “I can use a combination of sonar, your thoughts and reactions to it through reading electrical activity in your brain.”
“You can read my mind.”
I got that strange sensation, as though Melody was shrugging before she corrected me.“I can extrapolate from data, effectively allowing me to detect your mood and certain thoughts.”
“Such as what kind of music I want in certain situations?” I asked, catching on.
“That's one of my main uses for it, yes.” She confirmed. “Also devising insults. Monkey.”
“Fuck you.” I replied shortly.
“Exactly.” Melody laughed. Apparently she was being a sarcastic twat earlier.
I rolled my eyes and repositioned myself behind the house, away from any prying eyes. “So any idea where we might find redbells?”
“How should I know? I'm an iPod, not a multidimensional plant guide.” She replied, irritation evident. “If anything, you would have had better luck in the Everfree.”
I hummed. “Well, I thought that too, but then I realized that we might be able to buy some from the markets here. They sound pretty useful, and not overly rare.”
“Buy with what? We're broke if you don't remember, not to mention you don't want to be seen, god knows why.”
I crouched down and jumped up, catching a window sill. “By buy, I mean carefully liberate.”
“You're just going to steal from innocent ponies?”
I stifled a scream as my hand gave way and left me hanging from a sill on the second floor one handed. I gritted my teeth and swung my way up onto the sill with some difficulty. “Let's be honest, fuck that hurts, I've done much worse.”
I grunted as I pulled my way up onto the roof, only using my left hand and momentum. Staying low, I crawled forward to get a better view of the area. The house was on the very fringes of Ponyville, so it wasn't as useful as it could have been, but then again, there wasn't really that much to Ponyville. I could see the town square, the train station, Twilight's library and, most importantly for my purposes, the markets. I studied them for a while, but they were pretty far away, not quite on the other side of town. I grumbled and unslung my FAMAS, gazing down the iron sights. It didn't help much, but sometimes I thought it focused my vision just that little bit more. And it helped me get in a tactical mood. Not for the first time I wished I brought a scope. No wonder everybody in the military has fucking ACOGs. That shit's useful.
Wait a second. I'm on top of Honored Service's house. He has basically every gun known to mankind stashed in here. Well, not really, but I'm sure he has a scope that's compatible with the NATO mounting.
I don't have a NATO mounting.
Bollocks.
I don't need it on my FAMAS though...
.skcolloB
I shuffled back and swung down to the window. Mindful of my unstable position perched on about three inches of wood, I carefully opened the window and slunk inside.
It was dark inside, since all the windows had dark green curtains over them. My eyes adjusted quickly to the relative darkness though and I took in the room.
There were weapons everywhere. All over the damn place. Bam, golden spear, bam, jeweled hammer, bam, sniper rifle. Besides that, everything was pretty simple wood in dark greens and browns. There were other dark colors here and there, but dark wood seemed to be the primary material. It made all the shiny weapons stand out all the more. “A military man's house if I ever saw one.” I said to myself. “Apparently someone remembered the elements and principles of design.” Despite my sardonic comments, I actually really liked it. My own apartment had similar dark wood, although I used lighter tones more often and had more blues and less greens. Regardless, it was obvious that it had been put together by a master designer, aka, not Honored Service. Probably Rarity.
I looked at the rifle and frowned. The scope looked pretty well attached, and taking the huge thing down from the wall and putting it back up again would be time consuming and, above all, loud. So find something else then.
I padded quietly into the closest room, which just so happened to be the master bedroom.
I think I almost shat myself.
A figure was standing in the corner, with enough weapons strapped to him to take down an army. A golden helmet with a green feathered plume sat on his head, with matching gold plating on the arms, legs and chest. He wore a military uniform under that, with a huge sword strapped to his back, and magazines poking out of his chest rig.
I took all this in in the fraction of a second it took me to draw the combat knife from its sheath under my armpit and thrust it towards his face.
I stopped a hair's breadth from plunging the knife right between his eyes. Or should I say, it's non-existent eyes. The figure was a mannequin.
“Jesus Christ, give me a heart attack why don't you?” I grumbled, spinning the knife once before returning it to its rightful place in its sheath.
I suppressed my urge to kill something with adrenaline still coursing through my veins, instead diverting my attention to the mannequin. There were a pair of Glocks, newer models than the ones Joel uses, strapped to its belt, along with a beautiful, beautiful knife.
My face lit up with a grin. “Bad Bertha. Come to papa.” I carefully drew the bowie. It was far smaller than Luna and Celestia, but still pretty damn big as knifes go, considering Luna and Celestia are more like short swords, both being over a foot long and a third as wide. I ran a finger down the flat of the blade, noting the metallic red swirls that denoted it's ridiculous sharpness. I swung her experimentally a few times in the air. Well balanced, not too heavy. Then again, I class my own knives as being 'not too heavy' and they weigh more than a couple of kilos each, so I'm probably not the best judge of this sort of thing.
“If only I could take you home with me.” I muttered. “Unfortunately, Honored would be pissed if I did.” I sheathed BB and sighed. “Such is life.”
I glanced at the other various weapons. Magic pistol under the arm, Glocks, and various throwing knives. I didn't really need those, my ballistic knife serves me fine in that department, so I moved on. There was what I was looking for. The M16A2, complete with ACOG scope. I sneaked over and snatched it from where it was leaning up against the wall before hanging it from a tab inside my coat.
Objective complete, I went back to the window and climbed out again, cursing my burned hand for being burned. Even though it was my fault. Stupid me.
I crawled back to the edge of the roof, drew out the M16 and sighted down at the markets. “Apples. Apples. Apple pie. Apple strudel. Apple peelers. Apple slicers. Jesus fuck, are those apple plush dolls? What is wrong with this town? More apple crap. Apples. Apples. Ooh, herbs and spices. Which consists almost entirely of apples. I don't know what I expected.”
“Do you normally talk to yourself when spotting?” Melody asked.
“I don't normally spot.” I replied, continuing to search for something that wasn't apple related.
“But your friend, Joel was it? He's a sniper.” Melody said, sounding confused.
“Yeah, but we're assassin, mercenary things. We generally know where a target is going to be. Besides I'm usually right next to the target, ready to stab them in the face if all goes well. Joel is usually more support. Although sometimes we run in like idiots for the hell of it, because sometimes that's the only way to kill the target on time, and sometimes we just get bored.”
“You have got to be the worst assassins ever.”
“You'd be surprised.” I stifled a woop of joy. “Finally, something that isn't fucking apples! Medicinal herbs, for cuts, burns and bruises. We also sell magic-weed. What's magic weed?”
“I assume it's a magical weed.” Melody commented dryly.
“Well that's fucking helpful innit. Either way, that's probably a good start.” I poked the M16 back inside my coat and crawled back to re-enter the house.
After carefully placing Honored's precious rifle back where I found it, and hoping they had no reason to dust for fingerprints on it anytime soon, I decided that I needed somewhere to figure out a quick plan for... well there's no point deceiving myself, I was fucking stealing the stuff. Assuming they had redbells. Which you'd think they would, considering they fed off magical burns.
Getting ahead of yourself. Go to the market, find out if they have it, steal it. Don't get seen. Simple. Easy.
Not easy.
A real pain in the arse actually.
As I stood in the darkness of Honored's empty house, I realized several things. One, my coat was made for being stealthy at night, in a city environment, with harsh shadows and desaturated colors. Currently? I was in a small town. In a cartoon. With more vibrant color than an acid trip.
In the middle of the fucking day.
With a burned to shit hand.
And no back up.
Not that I would really need back up against a bunch of pastel ponies, but still, I wouldn't have anybody to cover my back. Nor would I have someone with a sniper rifle to take out troublesome problems.
“Man, being alone sucks.” I muttered to myself. Obviously.
“Don't worry, you're not alone.” My electronic companion taunted from my pocket.
But god damn, sometimes I wish I was.
I sighed, rubbed a hand through my hair, something that I'd been doing a lot lately, and said “Alright then. You're the only... Well, being I have. What've you got?”
“10 grammes of glass, 30 grammes of pla-”
“No you idiot.” I cut her off, while still keeping my voice relatively low. “I mean abilities. You're magic. Do something magical. Make me invisible or something.”
“That's your friend's field of expertise, I just provide witty commentary and excellent music. Well, frankly it's terrible, but I don't have much to work with, do I?” Melody said.
“I assume you're referring to your commentary when you say that.” I snarled back. My taste in music was a bit of a sore spot. “So basically, you're useless. Lovely.”
“I can read your mind.”
“No. You can't. And that still doesn't help me.”
“Perhaps not, but it helps me.”
“You are the worst kind of person.”
“I'm not a person.”
“Electronic device then.”
“No, I'm pretty sure that goes to Holly.”
“Stop ruining my childhood.”
“Pretty sure you were busy killing people for most of it.”
“That was my early adulthood. And teenage years. Shut the fuck up.”
“You're still killing people.”
“Dragons, and I'm doing more stealing than killing these days.”
“And speaking of stealing, shouldn't you get back to getting those redbells before Honored Service wakes up?”
I stopped, a retort dying on my lips. “What?”
“Honored Service is currently asleep downstairs, either on the second floor or the basement. I can't really tell because of your incessant jabbering messing with my sonar.”
“You have sonar?” I choked out. “Why didn't you just say that?”
“Because you were asking about my magical abilities.” She replied irritably. “Now hush.”
I did, and I realized I could hear alternating extremely high and extremely low pitched pulses of sound, only barely within my own range of hearing, and definitely outside the range of a normal human's.
On a whim, I reached into my pocket and took a look at Melody's screen. Instead of being blank, the iPod was lighting up periodically with a series of lines which I instantly recognized to a portrait of this very room, with hard edges showing up a bright green, and other, less severe surfaces lighting up duller. After a few seconds, the perspective changed, becoming a top down view like a floor flan. Every significant object in the room was represented in some way, including myself.
“Ooh. I like this.” I said, a grin slowly stealing it's way onto my face. “Can you create something like this for the lower floors too?”
“If you'd shut up and let me process the data I'm getting, maybe I can.”
I waited a bit. The lines on the screen changed, similar outer walls, but a few differences. It was clearer on one side, near the stairs. Radiating out from that point, it slowly got more and more indistinct, until the proper contours were replaced by green blips, and eventually nothing at all, just blurry green rooms.
“Not perfect, but still excellent.” I said appreciatively. “But I don't see any human shapes on this. How do you know Honored is downstairs?”
Silently, Melody switched to a webpage I knew well.
I sighed and sat down on the large brown sofa Rarity had purchased. I kicked my feet up onto the coffee table, something Rarity would be very pissed about, and laid my head back. I’ll try and get at least a few hours of sleep before the afternoon. Then Luna would get here, and then… well then I’d go home.
“Oh fuck me.” I shook my head and grimaced. “That's some meta shit right there. And also worrying. Cause if I don't fix that damn rune, Honored and his marefriend are going straight into the sun. Or possibly just outer space. Both are not great for your health.”
“And you have about two hours, to steal some redbells, fix your hand, figure out how to fix the rune, fix it, and get clear so you don't get caught.” Suddenly, a face appeared on screen. It was pure black, with long, messy, strobing hair. There were no features, but when it cocked its head I could tell it was smiling condescendingly. “Have fun with that.”
Apparently Melody had a face now. Sort of. “Interesting choice for an avatar.”
The avatar of Melody shrugged. Somehow, it was exactly as my subconscious had pictured it. “I found it some website. I thought it suited me.”
“Suits you? I guess so.” I shoved the iPod back into my pocket. “More pressing matters to deal with now.”
“Although you had time to waste messing around with my name.”
“I didn't realize I only had two fucking hours.”
“It was closer to two and a half at the time.”
I glanced toward the window I climbed in through. It was still hanging open. “No time to waste anymore anyway.” I pulled my hood up, obscuring my vision slightly, but also my identity. And then I dived out the window.
And only remembered that my hand was burned to shit when I was just about to hit the ground.
I suppressed my urge to scream as I collapsed forward into a far from smooth roll to break my fall. It didn't work perfectly, not even close, but it was better than taking my entire weight on my legs and letting the energy bounce through my body. Probably.
“Fuck. My life.” I groaned, painfully easing my way back onto my feet. My right arm had spasmed and collapsed as I hit the ground, although fortunately I was rolling over my right shoulder, so it didn't do too much damage. Still, it hurt like hell.
“You could have always climbed down.” Melody muttered unhelpfully, albeit with less bite in her tone than usual.
I tugged my hood back into place, fixed the collar and, satisfied, slunk away into the shadows of the outer Everfree.
There was a slight wind, judging from how the leaves were moving. Perfect, movement was less likely to draw attention then. I moved with the gusts of wind, not exactly silent, but not really needing to be either. I was a thief, assassin and mercenary, not a ghost.
After following the edge of the forest for as long as possible, I diverted my path into the outskirts of the town, not bothering to stick to the shadows anymore. I walked purposefully, but I didn't run. Running draws a lot of attention. Moot point though, since aside from a small group of fillies playing, which I easily avoided, there was not a single pony in sight. I assumed it was because of the markets, and all the real activity would be there. Annoying, since that was where I was most likely to screw up, and more witnesses/roadblocks would make it that much more difficult, but I didn't have time to make this clean.
Not that I've had a clean op in about a year.
More clean then. I could always wipe the entirety of Ponyville off the map, but that would just screw me over in the long run. And for what? A burned hand? For all I knew, the others could already have a bunch of redbells and this was just a waste of time. I shrugged mentally. Whatever. I'd long since learned that psyching oneself out before doing anything that required fast decisions was a recipe for disaster.
Voices. Getting louder. Smells of food. Mostly apple based products. Fuck me.
Could be worse. They could be pears.
Still, if I ever get back home, I'm never eating a fucking apple again. This is ridiculous.
I cut off my thoughts and slowed my purposeful walk to a light footed sneak. I could see glimpses of the market stalls through the sparse buildings, a huge, sprawling mass of brightly colored little huts, filled with anything a rural living pony in a magical land could ask for. And then some.
I grimaced at the sight. There were far too many to search through. I knew what the stall I was looking for looked like, and was incredibly fortunate that the reading potion had lasted long enough for me to spy the one I needed from afar, but I couldn't spend time wandering around the markets drawing attention to myself.
This is why it's useful to have changeling friends. Or invisible friends.
I had to make do with what I got.
I sighed quietly. “Melody, got any other abilities that you aren't telling me about that might come in handy here? Magical or otherwise.”
“I can take pictures?” She suggested, posing it as a question instead of a statement.
I groaned. So I have useless sonar, music, a ton of weapons which I really don't want to use and an iPod that can take pictures. Wunderbar.
A sentient iPod. Shit, I'm brilliant. “You think I can take a few shots of the marketplace and you can make a map off it?”
“Easily.” She scoffed. “So long as we have someway I can get a bird's eye view.”
I looked up and sighed. Welp. Looks like it's climbing for me. Again.
“Get over it.” Melody snapped. “It's either pain now, or a dissolved hand later.”
I blinked. “I didn't say that out loud, did I?”
Melody made that strange blue screen of death noise again, before saying “No, you didn't.”
Whatever. Worry about sentient, mind reading machines later.
I took a short run up before throwing myself upwards, taking two steps on the wall and kicking off to catch the balcony railing above me one handed. I swung my legs left to right a few times before, with a final kick, launching the rest of my body up onto the balcony. After that, it was a relatively simple jump onto the roof.
Unfortunately for me, ponies like building insanely slanted roofs for some reason.
“Life... Fucking... Hates me.. Today.” I gasped out as I finally rolled onto the flat portion at the peak of the rooftop. I inhaled a few more times, blinked non-existent tears out of my eyes and rolled onto my stomach. I took out Melody and held her in landscape, pointing her camera at the markets. “The angle fine?”
The face- Melody's face appeared on screen. She looked like she was frowning. Somehow. I dunno how I got that idea, since she has no face. Intuition. “It'll do. There may be a few errors, but all you really need is the pathways and general crowd flow, yes?”
“The pathways was all I though you could do, so crowd flow is a bonus.”
“Please. Don't underestimate me.” She replied flippantly, her avatar flicking her strobing hair. “Pan me from left to right so I can get the whole thing.”
I slowly panned my iPod across the landscape. There was a series of clicks and I swear I could sense Melody smile.
“Excellent.” Melody's avatar put on a pair of pure white headphones and started bobbing her head. “Let's do this.”
I saw the images I took flip around, adjust and recolor, accelerating until it was just a blur. Finally I was left with an image that distinctly reminded me of Google maps, white-grey background for the ground, yellow for the streets, blue for market stalls and red dots showing crowd flow and predicting positions of the ponies. There was a bright orange tab labeled 'target'.
My face lit up. “Oh man, this is beautiful.”
“Thank you.”
I'm not sure which was more surprising, Melody thanking me, or Melody not being a bitch about it.
“As I've told you before, I have no relation to a female canine.”
Ugh. Mind reading.
I returned Melody to my pocket and barrel-rolled down the roof. Bad idea. My FAMAS caught the shingles and sent me spinning out of control. I managed to throw out my left hand in time to catch the edge and not smash myself into the balcony railing below. I almost pulled my arm out of its socket.
“Bloody hell.” I winced, dropping heavily to the balcony. “I have the worst ideas.”
“Like going to this much trouble to save somebody you've never even met?”
I grimaced and lowered myself over the railing, still one-handed. “Oh hush.”
I dropped and rolled, not screwing it up as badly this time, but still a far cry from my usually graceful landings.
Well, relatively graceful.
I tried not to get too hung up over it, instead focusing my efforts on something more immediately productive. Namely, not getting recognized as human.
I started by unslinging my FAMAS from my back and hanging it inside my coat instead, away from curious eyes. I checked my hood yet again, it still covered almost all my face and shrouded the rest in shadow. Finally, I approached the most annoying problem. I had hands. Diamond dogs had paws. Minotaurs' hands were huge and hairy. Only humans had hands this dexterous.
I shoved them in my pockets like a surly teenager. Fuck it. I didn't have time for much else.
I set off at a brisk pace towards the markets, occasionally glancing at Melody's screen to check the map. The red dots seemed to be moving mostly counter-clockwise, meaning a quick trip to the stall I wanted, but either running into a whole bunch of ponies or a long run on the way out. Ugh. Nothing I could do about that. I was going to draw a ton of attention either way.
Less thinking, more stealing.
I stepped out into the marketplace, earning several curious stares. Nothing overly cautious, considering a tall figure in a hooded coat just walked out of an alley. I guess they didn't deal with criminals much here. Probably just thought I was a monk.
I let the crowd mostly sweep me along, although I was given a wide berth by quite a number of the marketgoers. My height didn't help make me inconspicuous either, since even though I was far from tall by human standards, the tallest ponies only just came up to my chin. I tried walking casually, meandering about every now and then, instead of my usual brisk trot when I was focused on something. I had nothing to compare against, but it seemed like less ponies were staring, as though a tall hooded figure showing up to shop was a normal event, as opposed to beelining towards a stall.
I sneaked a quick glance at the map in my pocket. I was only a few meters away from my target. With my height, I could easily see the stall above the heads of the crowd. I recognized the crude drawing of a spiky leaf, although the writing was once again incomprehensible, meaning the reading potion had worn off.
I made my way towards it, excruciatingly slowly, as though I was mildly interested. It was a good thing I had my hood up, because my grimace would have been a dead giveaway that I was up to something. And the fact I was human. Duh.
I looked down at the shopkeeper, who smiled nervously up at me. There were rows of small boxes, about the size of matchboxes, made of some sort of dark wood with little inscriptions on them in gold leaf. Of course, I couldn't read it, but they were arranged in columns, twelve across, six up. Each column only held a single type of plant, I assumed, since each column had the same lettering on the boxes. Twelve different plants. And I didn't even know what any of them were.
“Hello?” The shopkeeper began tentatively. “What would you like to buy?”
I bit my lip. Do I just ask if he sells redbells? If he does, it'll be obvious I can't read equestrian. Fuck it. “Do you sell redbells at all?” I said, as politely as I could. My voice was strangely high pitched.
He glanced at the labels, confirming my suspicion, and then at my coat, and then finally, back at my face. Still in shadow, I hoped. “Foreigner are you?”
Smeg. “You could say that.”
“Well yes, I do sell redbells. How many would you like?”
“Just one should be fine for my purposes thanks.”
He paused. I raised an eyebrow, realized I had a hood on, and cocked my head instead.
“I'm sorry sir, but I'll need you to show me that you have the bits first.” He clicked his forehooves together nervously. “My wares are too valuable to give up without assurance of being paid.” 'Especially to someone dressed like you' was what I heard in his tone.
It's official. God hates me.
I had no idea which box was the redbell, the pause between me speaking was getting far too long and I had no bits to my name, let alone on me.
Are you a gambling man?
No.
I'm a winning man.
With a single, lightning fast movement, I used my left hand to scoop the entire front row of boxes into my right sleeve. Even as I did it, I was turning, getting ready to sprint away.
The shopkeeper was gobsmaked. “Wha- What? How? That should- what?” He stuttered.
Human motherfucker. Your enchantments don't mean shit.
I didn't say it, instead, I let my body do the talking.
I jumped up, placed my left hand on top of the stall sign, and used it to propel me over the stall, shopkeeper and everything else that was under me at the time. I wasn't too bothered, just so long as it didn't screw up my flight.
As I landed, I thrust my hands back into my pockets, with the side-effect of emptying the plant boxes into them as well, and began to run.
Have you ever run with your hands in your pockets? It's surprisingly difficult not being able to compensate for overbalances with your arms while running. But I made do. Wouldn't have taken gold at the Olympics, but then again, I'm not Jamaican, am I?
I turned sharply into an alley, just as the alarm rang out behind me, accompanied by screams and shouting. It sounded like a riot. Apparently ponies didn't steal much very often.
“Or maybe they just aren't stupid enough to do it in broad daylight.”
“Shut up Melody.”
The sound of the commotion slowly faded as I wended my way back to Honored Service's house. Far from untraceable, but who's stupid enough to follow somepony into the Everfree? Honored Service, but fuck, he's the reason I'm there in the first place, so who am I calling stupid?
Well, not technically the first place, since that was a swat team. Or possibly some magical bullshit. Both even.
Ugh, just focus on running.
I had reached the edge of Ponyville that bordered on the edge of the Everfree. There was about 30 meters of space between the farthest out house and the outermost tree. I could see Fluttershy's house in the distance. That's a visit I'd have to save for another day.
“There! In the coat!” A shout rang out behind me.
I sneaked a glance over my shoulder. A Pegasus was floating above the rooftops, pointing a hoof at me. As I watched, three others joined her.
“Son of a bitch.” I grumbled, ducking inbetween houses again. “This is exactly why I hate choppers.”
“Except these are faster, more maneuverable and can tackle you to the ground.” Melody reminded me.
“At least they don't have rocket pods.” I said optimistically, following the outer edge of the town while staying undercover as much as possible.
“Leave that to the unicorn's fireballs.”
I looked back again and watched as several unicorns in some sort of police armor cantered after me. One fired a bolt of ice. I dived into a roll and felt the chill as it passed over my head. It would have caught me full in the back if I hadn't dodged.
“That's ice you fuck!” I exclaimed, spinning out of the way of another bolt.
“Does it matter? It'll screw you either way.”
“Fucking he-”
“Pegasus!” Melody shouted frantically.
I spun and lashed out with my foot, catching my pursuer's wing and sending them sprawling into the ground.
“My god! It was just a few plants!” I grumbled as a barrage of ice bolts shot towards me. I jumped to my left, kicked off the wall and caught a low roof to my right. One handed. I wasted no time using my momentum to swing myself up and pocket my hand again. “What the shit is this?”
“They have a lot of bored cops I guess?”
I rolled my eyes and jumped to the next roof. At the speed I was running, the slope might as well have been flat ground.
After making some more progress towards the trail, and dodging dive-bombing pegasi, I jumped off the roof and rolled, my FAMAS banging painfully into my knee as I did. I swore and continued, dodging between the more and more sparse cover until I reached Honored's house. The pegasi hung back, and I had lost the unicorns completely on my brief rooftop sprint. I rocketed up the trail, leaving a trail of dust in my wake.
I dodged into the trees and searched the sky. Two of the pursing pegasi had flown off, one looked like he was bighting his lip and the other was shaking her head mournfully. They evidently thought I would get killed.
I probably will once the princesses find out about this.
Who's going to report a small town crime to the princesses?
Twilight's a fucking princess now. And she lives here.
Cross your fingers and hope she doesn't set her attack human on you.
He'll be preoccupied for the next three days at least.
Or forever if I don't do anything.
I've come too far to give up now.
“ROAR!”
Exactly.
Wait. What?
A huge manticore was barreling towards me, crashing through trees and ripping up saplings.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” I muttered, drawing Celestia in my left hand.
“Hey Edward! Found some redbells.” Shyv's voice called out.
She was riding on top of the manticore, stabbing one of the motorcycle blades into its neck with apparently minimal effect.
The manticore suddenly pitched forwards, throwing her off its back and leaving one of the blades stuck in its neck. Shyv flared her wings to stop herself from crashing into a tree, did a flip in the air, and flew back. After a second of dumbstruck inactivity, I pulled my thoughts together and charged with her, raising Celestia defensively in front of my face while simultaneously preparing her for a forward stab or slash.
Shyv hit first. A quick swipe of her remaining blade took out its eye, causing it to rear back in pain. I switched my gait a few paces before I hit, crashing into the manticore with my right shoulder and bowling it over onto the ground. Together, Shyv and I plunged our blades into its chest with a small gout of blood. I felt a rib crunch and give way under my knife, so I twisted it around a bit before withdrawing.
“You're late by the way.” Shyv commented mildly, pulling out both blades and wiping them on the corpse.
“Hey, you're just as late as I was.” I said, sheathing Celestia.
She used her magic to hold up a small cluster of red, bell-shaped flowers. “But were you as successful as I was?”
I shrugged. “Not a clue. I kind of had to leave in a hurry. I got twelve boxes of shit, and only one was probably redbells. Hopefully I didn't screw over that guy too badly. By the way, they're all enchanted, maybe, so be careful around them.”
“Noted.”
We hurried back to the clearing, where Joel and Vi were waiting in the shadow of the trees at the edge.
“You're late.” Joel called out, holding up a string of the red flowers. “What took you guys so long?”
“Manticores!” Shyvanna called back, slowing from a canter to a quick trot as we circled around the fringe.
“And the entirety of the Ponyville police force.” I added as we reached them.
“Sounds fun.” Joel said, with a small smile.
“Not with a burned hand it isn't.” I muttered.
He handed me the string of redbells, which I instantly slapped on my hand. The relief was instant, as a warm glow from inside my hand slowly transferred itself to the petals of the flowers.
“Oh that is so much better.” I sighed appreciatively. “So what happened to you guys?”
“Not much.” Vi shrugged. “I found a small patch within the first five minutes of searching and I've spent the last half hour making a wreath out of them.”
“Took me a little longer,” Joel continued. “But I joined up with Vi with quite a number only a few minutes later. I went and caught some food after that.” He gestured to a tree several meters deeper into the forest. Several cockatrices were strung up by their tails there.
I turned over my hand and pressed the petals into my palm. “Lovely. Shyv?”
“I had a few more problems, as you probably saw from the manticore that was trying to kill me.”
“So that's what the roar was.” Vi mused.
Shyv nodded in her direction. “Yeah, I found a patch of redbells pretty fast, so I decided to dig them up and see if I could find any firerubies underneath.” She held up a few small red gems with tiny fires burning inside them. “I did, as you can see, but it turns out I also found a manticore den. The father chased me, while the mother and cub stayed behind.
“I jumped up on his back and tried to subdue him, but he threw me off and tried to claw me to pieces, so I stabbed him in the neck and flew back up onto his back again. Then I ran into Edward and we took him down together. So if you need any manticore steak, there's another carcass in the trees over there.”
Joel's eyebrows shot up, as if to say 'because I didn't have enough butchering to do' but instead he said, “You hurt at all?”
Shyv shook her head. “Bit bruised, but nothing serious.”
“And speaking of wounds, how did you hold up with a burned hand?” Vi asked, addressing me.
I grimaced and flexed my right hand. I could move it without it hurting anymore, so it was healing well. “Not great. Didn't help that I decided that it would be a good idea to steal a bunch of shit in broad daylight.”
It wasn't just Joel's eyebrow that was raised this time. “What happened?”
I recounted the past half hour, including changing Melody's name. “So yeah, we have about an hour to figure out how to disable this ward, fix this rune, and hide.”
Joel cracked his knuckles and popped his neck. “Then we'd better get started then aye?”