//------------------------------// // 1. Detective Steel // Story: Tales of Skyline Tower // by Senyu //------------------------------// I stood at the corner, peering around its edge with a cold stare. With my hat drawn down and my coat wrapped tightly around myself, I must have looked like any other stain against the brick, masked even further from the rain that was pouring down. Never understood why the pegasi washed the city much as they did. Maybe because it was just that dirty, in more ways than one. Speaking of pegasi, just down the alley and beneath the only source of light in this part of town were the culprits I had been tailing since this Celestia-forsaken downpour began. The one with wings, who had probably skipped out on cloud duty, was called Bolt Cutter. He was a wry one, always in a bad mood, and always leaving others in one too after he was done with them. The larger fella next to him was an earth pony who others dubbed Big Cannon. Being built like a barn, it left little to the imagination as to where he got the name. I knew that if I had jumped them now, I wouldn’t stand a chance against them. They’d clobber me worse than a old taxi in a junkyard. Instead, I needed to wait and follow them back to their hideout… Mist Hoof idly reached for his glass on the nearby end table as he read the page avidly, fully in engrossed in another world of mystery, adventure, and danger; the life of a detective. He was only a few chapters in, but detective Sky Steel had roped in him, much he like was soon to do with the characters in the book. Since his and the other bat ponies arrival at the tower, they each found some niche of interest that did not exist back in Dusk Town. For them, it was like finding a whole new world full of things they had only heard about, a fresh start to discover new talents and passions. Much to the bat ponies delight, Prince Blueblood was a pony of advancement and culture whose eccentric tastes gave them a trove of culture to explore, and he spared no expense in showcasing his interests within his home. As for ponies like Mist Hoof who already knew what they enjoyed, they simply found more of it to explore. It took him nearly an hour just to even decide which book series to begin reading when he first came across the expansive shelves of books. Now, some forty pages in later, he was well into the mysterious and dangerous life of a city detective, and it along with a filled glass was exactly what he planned to spend the rest of the night with. After a refreshing sip of punch, Mist Hoof leaned forward with a smirk, and happily turned the page. I tailed them through the alleyways, peering from the shadows like a timberwolf tracking it’s prey. Though, even if I didn’t have the fangs of one, my trusty steel bat would suffice. But despite all my years of dirty work and steel nerves, I wasn’t prepared for what happened next, as suddenly- *CRASH!* Mist Hoof nearly leapt from the couch at the sound of metal diningware crashing onto the floor, followed by the sound of scuffling hooves. Looking towards the indoor bar in alarm, he waited in tensely for the cause of the source to reveal itself, but the room had become silent again; deathly silent. He stared intensely towards the direction it had happened, having a difficult time discerning what was actually there. The other side of the room where the bar resided was shrouded in shadows, difficult to see having been next to a lit lamp despite his nocturnally built eyes. When the silence began to become deafening, he tentatively set down the novel, and cautiously trotted towards the darker part of the room. Despite years of practice, his hooves left faint echoes on the wooden floor as he slowly made his way to the bar. His ears were pricked in alert, and his eyes were wide to catch the slightest movement as his vision quickly adjusted. When he was only a few steps away the counter, he tightened his eyes. “Alright,” he spoke in a gruff voice. “Whoever’s hiding back there, come on out.” No answer. Flattening his ears in preparation for the scolding he was about to give, he propped himself over the counter and craned his next. “Honestly, just what do you think you’re-” When he could at least see behind the bar, he found nopony in sight. Furrowing his eyebrows in confusion, he trotted over to the side entrance and entered behind the counter. Closed cupboards lined the space, along with glass boxes that magically refrigerated alcoholic beverages. Besides that, it was the usual items of dining ware, napkins, cups, and metallic serving trays; the last of which lay scattered on the ground. Inspecting them closer, it was apparent somepony had knocked them over, given that few remained in their original place. As he had leaned in for closer inspection, a detail caught his eye on one of the refrigerators. A clear hoof print had been left on the glass, smeared with the condescension, and behind it, an open space among the neatly stacked wine bottles. As he peered through the glass to read what he discern was a blackberry flavored wine, a clamour of hooves sounded behind him. Whipping his head around, he caught the trailing sight of a swinging door at the other end of the room opening and closing frantically, spilling in the hallway light it lead to. Mist Hoof narrowed his eyes at the swinging door, then turned back to the knocked over trays, and finally to the missing bottle. It was easy to figure out what had happened, and I hoped it would be easier to solve. A classic case of bringing in a pony down on his luck, only to have him rob you blind in the middle of the night. We all want to help another pony out, but too bad it’s usually the bad guys that get the things they want in the end. Mist Hoof stoically stood up and turned to exit the bar. There are twenty-seven suspects to interrogate, forty-three rooms to investigate, and even more hallways to track clues in. The penthouse house is big, that’s certain; probably even bigger than the paycheck my boss got for all my dirty work cracking cases like these. With a cool gaze, Mist Hoof moved to the swinging door and propped it open with a hoof, eyeing the brightly lit hallway before him. There wasn’t a sign of another pony, but looking down at the carpet, he saw the faint droplets of water, no doubt the melting frost of a recently chilled bottle. Better solve this before my ‘client’ knows their stuff is missing. I wouldn’t want to put a sour taste in his mouth at how sneaky a bat pony can be. At least, nothing sour than his already poor taste in humor. Either way, perps can run as long as they want, but in the end, they always get caught. And no perp has a chance of getting away from me, not when detective Steel Hoof is on the hunt. With a mischievous grin at the prospect of a sudden case, Mist Hoof rolled his shoulders in preparation. “I don’t know who you are, but you aren’t getting away from me.” With his declaration said, Mist Hoof confidently strode down the hallway, and followed the small signs of water droplets. It was only when he reached the corner of the hallway did he suddenly stopped. I should probably pick up those trays before Silver Platter finds the mess. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Mist Hoof rounded the corner of the hallway, keeping his head low to the ground as he followed the water spots. Whoever had taken the bottle had run made a series of loops throughout the first floor of the penthouse. He suspected that the thief knew Mist Hoof was on their tail given their close encounter at the bar, and concluded they were trying to find a nice, safe spot to drink their prize in. Unfortunately for Mist Hoof, they may get that chance when the water spots ended on the carpet. “Bat wings,” he said while straightening himself. “Thing must have warmed up enough.” Looking down the rest of the hall, he saw a turn further ahead, the only place the hallway lead to; a place that he happened to actually know. Trotting to the corner, he peered around it’s edge, and glanced down the hallway. It lead to a dead end, but spaced evenly along its sides where a series of doors that lead to the rooms of bat ponies. It wasn’t all of them, due to the design of the penthouse causing them to spread out in groups among the many guest rooms, but it was enough for a single pony to hide themselves amongst others if they wanted to remain hidden. The laughter and murmurs of conversation from within the open rooms drifted into the hallway. Not sure if this pony is crafty, or featherbrained. Either way, hiding aint gona do you no good, not when I’m on your trail. Nodding to no one in particular, Mist Hoof stepped around the corner, and warily kept an eye on the doors as he made his way to the first room. With cautious steps, Mist Hoof moved towards the first open door, peering around it’s edge as little as he could. Inside he saw a bat pony shamelessly spread out on a bed, snoring loudly with deep sleep. Geeze, cover yourself why don’t’cha? Shaking his head while closing the door, Mist Hoof crept further down the hall. Upon reaching the next door, he leaned his head close to the wood, and his tuft ears flicked at the conversation inside. “So, where do you think we should go first?” “I want to see that place with the round top. You know, the one on the south side?” “Perfect, my spot’s right next to it.” “What’s the plan for grub?” “Pssh, same thing as it always is.” The sound of two hoofs bumping it each followed by giggling caused Mist Hoof to scrunch his face, and he threw open the door. “M-Mist Hoof!” one of the mares stammered. “Cloud Shadow, Willow Shade,” he growled. “What are you two plotting now?” The two mares wrapped their hooves around each others shoulders so they could pull themselves close, then flashed him wide toothy grins. “Oh you know,” Willow Shade began, “Just planning on where to go next in the penthouse.” “Yeah, can’t see it all in one day,” Cloud Shadow said. “Gotta space it out. Never know how long we’re going to be cooped up here.” “Speaking of cooped up,” Willow Shade said as she stood up. “I think it’s time we went and got some lunch, right Cloud?” “Oh definitely, Willow.” Cloud Shadow motioned to her stomach as she stood as well. “Can’t miss lunch. Most important meal of the night, afterall!” Mist Hoof craned his eyebrow at the two of them as they slide past him into the hall. “You said it,” Willow Shade replied. “Let’s go get some refreshing fruit!” The two mares turned and began to hastily walk away, but only managed a few steps before a hoof grasped their shoulders. Flinching at the touch, they turned to look behind them, their grins beginning to falter. “W-Would you like us to get you a pear?” Willow Shade asked. “Willow Shade... Cloud Shadow…” Mist Hoof grumbled. However, just as he opened his mouth, the darting form of a pony turning the corner down the hallway caught his eye, and the smell of blackberry wine passed his nose. Mist Hoof gave a scowl, then turned his attention back to the fidgeting mares. “If I so much as get a single hint that you two left his tower…” “Y-Yeah, got it!” Willow Shade finished for him. “Leave the tower? That’s crazy talk!” Cloud Shadow added. Mist Hoof gave them one last stare, then quickly trotted down the hall and after the culprit. Willow Shade and Cloud Shadow stood in place as they watched him leave. “And here I thought our hides would have been tanned for sure. What just happened?” “Our flanks being saved, somehow.” The two of them stared dumbfounded down the hallway, them scrunched their noses as they took a whiff. “Is that blackberry?” ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ He was a slippery one, always seeming just out of reach from me as I chased after him. Always a step ahead. More than once I had to double back. He had an uncanny ability of sneaking past me without me knowing. I had to give him props for being so good. But despite being that good, it didn’t change the fact that I felt like I was chasing a rat, and a dirty one too from the crime he committed. This game needed to end before my client found out he had even been wronged, and I was tired of being the cat. Mist Hoof halted suddenly at the sound of a door being slammed shut, and he scowled down the corridor it came from that he had almost passed. How does he keep getting passed me? Flaring his nostrils, he galloped to the door at the end of the corridor and threw open the decorated doors as roughly as he dared. “Bat wings…” he grumbled beneath his breath. He was back in the expansive living room. Everything was as exactly as he left it. His book on the open page he had left on, his glass of fruit punch still half full on the nearby desk, and the reading lamp he had sat beneath still alight. Everything was in place, and there was no pony in sight. As he grumbled at yet another narrow escape, the door at the other end of the room where the chase had first begun opened, spilling in the hallway light. Mist Hoof nearly leapt into the air and sail hazardously over the dining table and other decorations before he recognized the pony casually trotting into the room. “Hey, Mist Hoof,” the mare greeted made her way to the fruit laden table. “Evening, Wind Step,” Mist Hoof replied in disappointment. Wind Step lifted a pear from the table, giving it a whiff before she hummed in delight and took a juicy bite. “Haffing uh good night?” “I was,” he replied as he walked to the nearby bar and rested his front legs onto it. “I don’t suppose you took one of the bottles of wine in the cooler?” Wind Step swallowed the food in her mouth, then proceeded to load pears into her cupped arms. “Me? Not yet. I figured the next time I saw Silver Platter I could ask if me and some of the others could have a glass. Why? Did you already talk to him?” Mist Hoof sighed. “No. Forget I asked.” Wind Step shrugged, then carefully began to carry her armful of fruit back to door she had entered from. “Hey, wait a minute,” Mist Hoof called out as she began to open it. “Did anypony come through that door as you came in?” “No, why?” she called back. Mist Hoof narrowed his eyes, then swept his gaze across the living room. “Wind Step, lock that door from the other side as you leave.” “Um, sure,” she replied, giving him an odd glance as she closed the door behind her. Mist Hoof strained his tuft ears, and only barely heard the click of the bolt locking into place. Cautiously, he moved to main double doors, and slide the bolt at the top of the doors. Locks to route party guests, or criminals I supposed. Turning his head, he looked over the room again. Now, where are you? ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Mist Hoof panted heavily as he heaved the final futon off the couch, and groaned at the empty space beneath it. Dropping it, he fell back into his chair behind him, and growled at the ceiling above him. Dammit, nowhere to be found! Cracking his eyes, he looked over the disorder of the once orderly and decorated room. Vases and plants had been pulled aside from their positions, cushions were flipped, curtains were pulled upwards, table cloth lifted, and even dinner trays laid scattered on the table. He had searched every nook and cranny, flown to every inch of the ceiling above him, and he could still not find a clue of the perp aside from the now very faint smell of blackberry. With the doors and balcony locked, there was simply no place left to hide, and Mist Hoof was out of ideas and breath. He laid there for some minutes as he wracked his brain for any other alternatives as his heart rate slowed down. But even after he felt like he could tear around the apartment all over again, his will to do so just simply wasn't there. Well, I suppose you can’t catch ‘em all. Lifting himself from the couch, he made his way back to his book and glass of punch. With a defeated sigh, he sat himself down and picked up the book. Even the best of us come across a case too bizarre, too mysterious, and too impossible to be solved. But it comes with the job, I guess. Finding where he left off in the story, he reached for his glass. Sometimes, things are just better left unsolved. As his eyes passed across the page, a sudden drop of liquid fell onto the book, causing him to flinch. It was a dark spot, and it had fallen right on the sentence where Sky Steel had turned around at the commotion of a pony behind him. Blinking at its sudden appearance, he turned his gaze upward, and stared intently at the dark ceiling high above him. And yet sometimes… Things are more simple than we think them to be. “Ebon Wing,” Mist Hoof called out to the empty space above. “You’re grounded.” Ebon Wing suddenly appeared overhead, his cheeks holding a slight red tinge to them as held an empty bottle close to him. Then, unlatching himself, he floated down to the floor, albeit much more slowly and haphazardly then he normally appeared, and landed in front of Mist Hoof while hanging his head. “Bat wings…” he mumbled before hiccuping.