“So where do we find This Cynthia mare?”
That’s a good question
“You mean you don’t know?”
You were supposed to read the note, that’s where she tells you where you were supposed to meet
“What note?”
The one that came in the package, next time you get a package I suggest you go through its contents first, ya knob
“Well, excuse me for not being… the Spitfire of package openers”
Down below among the rubble and panic one of the ponies dared to look up and saw Stanley.
Maybe it was Just the shock talking or maybe it had something to do with Stan’s bad timing with his screams of joy but the civilian pointed at him to attract everybody’s attention.
“It’s him! He did this!”
The police that was already on its way to the site of the accident was now dangerously close within shoutshot, having heard the accusations they knew who to target.
We better get going.
“But where do I go?”
Run, I’ll tell you where to go on the way
“That’s rid-“
The police was already a few meters away from Stanley.
JUST RUN!
Stan did as he was told, he ran in the opposite direction of the ponies and changelings who were after him
Jump to the other building!
“But I-“
JUMP!
Stan had no time to argue, or to think for that matter, he had to jump.
Stan leaped off from the building and began to flap as much as his wings let him but the explosion in his flat damaged them badly making flight impossible.
Stan came nowhere near to reaching the other side, instead he just plummeted diagonally smashing into a display window of some sort of fashion shop, the best that his wings could offer was a minimally slower fall.
Glass pulverized into the air.
Get up
There was a moment of rest before the nerves in Stan’s body informed him of the pain he was in.
There was little time for pain, Stan got up, he was cut here and there but nothing lethal, which couldn’t have been said about his wings.
Across the street and take the first alley to the left
Stan galloped across the street, miniscule parts of glass slicing and detaching themselves from his flesh.
The police wasn’t far behind; if it weren’t for that fall he might have been safe by now.
Stan ran into the alleyway, it was a dead one, a wall stood tall in front of him.
“It’s a dead end!”
The door to the left of the wall, break it open
“But it’s a steel door!”
Trust me
The police were still onto him, he could hear them getting closer, the alleyway bought them some time but not much.
Stan took a few steps back, got ready and ran into the door at full force ramming his ribs into the cold steel plate
The rusty hinges gave way just as the voice had predicted and Stan’s body was down down onto the floor of a dusty staircase as he rolled to the bottom.
Stan heard something crack and snap.
A second later the changeling had realized that what he thought was the sound of the hinges giving way, was in fact the sound of his wings.
They weren’t just damaged anymore, they were broken and mangled.
The pain surgically removed Stan’s sanity as he writhed in pain, barely able to keep down his screams, he was still aware of his situation, he had to go right now otherwise his wings are going to be the least of his problems.
“W… where tooo?”
Stan’s pain had full control of his tone.
Apartment 2c upstairs, knock on it, when the griffon opens it barge in, and jump through the window that will be right ahead and onto the roof of the next building... are you all right?
“Nooo…”
Stan was now making his way up the stairs.
This is what happens when you use your face to open a steel door instead of your mind
“DON’T EVEN”
Stan knocked on the door and as predicted, moments later an elderly griffon had opened up the door to see who was on the other side.
Stan instantly overpowered the old lady, obliterating the chain that was keeping the door from swishing wide open.
There was no time to think, Stan just had to trust the voice.
The changeling burst through the door that couldn’t handle his force and darted ahead with his eyes closed.
Stan’s body felt the cold brittle wall of glass smash yet again and the feeling of freedom that came with the outside air... and more shards slicing his already messed up body
He opened his eyes.
He shouldn’t have closed them; the ledge of the next rooftop was further than he had anticipated
With a last push he mustered the strength to flap his wings a few times with great pain and awful sounds of cracks and snaps but it was just enough force to carry him barely far enough to grab onto the ledge, the rest of his body with the power of the momentum that was still in motion slammed onto the wall forcing any remaining air out of Stanley’s lungs.
Come on, get up
With the pain that was now stabbing him in whatever was left from his wings, he crawled onto the rooftop with great difficulty and lay on his belly, he dreaded to even think what it would feel like to lie on his wings right now.
“I… I need to rest”
You will in a moment, just one last thing.
“What else? I don’t even think I can stand anymore”
You won’t have to.
Stan was thrown off track by that response
“So what am I going to have to do?”
It’s a bit cliché but there’s a ventilation shaft to your left, it will lead you to the inside where you’ll be able to pull yourself together, rest and eat.
“What’s below?”
A food arcade, you’re welcome.
The voice didn’t need to say anything more, he was already convinced, he was tired, hurt and hungry and this was the perfect place to deal with all of those issues at once.
Try and find the colt’s room, there pull yourself together and then go feed and mingle, we need to keep a low profile until everything calms down.
Stanley did as he was told, He opened up the vent's entrance and a few minutes of crawling through tight vents later, he had successfully located the bathroom, waited a few minutes until everybody was out and busted right in.
The main priority right now were his wings.
Stan locked himself into one of the cubicles and began the inspection.
The wings were in the worst possible condition, the stabbing pain was now replaced by a pleasant warm pain as his brain came to terms with the current state of his body.
The once veiny clear glassy wings were now scratched as if they were a carbon fiber suitcase that was dragged by a plane that was taking off, in some areas they were also snapped, like a mirror that was just punched by an angry teenager who just saw his acne-infested face.
The wings were beyond repair, Stan couldn’t see it but his body told him that quite a few muscles and tendons connecting his wings to the rest of his body were pulled apart.
The best that Stan could do right now was with immense pain to fold his wings back into their default position and somehow subside the bleeding wounds with toilet paper.
The rest of Stanley’s body looked quite bad, bruising in most places and there where there was no bruising, a constellation of minor cuts with an occasional glass shard still embedded into the flesh.
It was a good thing that he was a changeling, his black carnation concealed the bruises and blood quite nicely... but it also meant that he couldn't bandage himself since the crimson blood would stick out too much with the white toilet paper he would use.
Once all that was dealt with, it was time to leave the toilet and feed.
Stick to the dance floor.
“Why?”
The dancefloors are always the darkest areas in such places, plus ponies are always dancing and moving, that will make it harder for anypony to notice the state you’re in
“But I don’t know how to dance”
Either you dance, or they catch you, your choice.
“I’ll just trot around the place, they’ll probably not notice me”
Porbably isn’t good enough, you need the best chance you can get, now go and dance.
“FINE!”
Stan had never imagined that his first time at the food arcade would be like this, in the small town where he came from changelings just went food shopping so they didn't need any food arcades.
At first it felt awkward for the changeling when he entered the dancefloor, it felt as if everybody was looking right at him as if he was glowing with some sort of guilt or something but soon enough he began to loosen up as his belly was being gradually filled with the plethora of emotions, the rest of his body was being kickstarted to the beats of the songs as if dancing were something he were born to do.
Hey, take it easy, you don’t want too much attention.
Stan was whipped back harshly to reality and calmed down before he grabbed anybody’s attention.
Before Stan had even noticed a few hours had passed.
Time to go.
“Let’s stay for a little while” mumbled out Stan quietly enough for the voice to hear but not loud for anybody else to notice him.
First we find Cynthia and sort this mess out, then you can have all the fun you want, all right?
Stan couldn’t just be hear talking to himself so he went to the colt’s room.
“Fine… where to?”
The ghetto.
“Ghetto? Why there?”
That’s the place she stayed at before I was delivered, there’s a chance she might still be there.
“But isn’t that where-“
All the poor ones are, yes.
“Any address in specific?”
I’m… I’m more of a visual kinda guy; I’ll tell you where to go from there, just keep a low profile.
“Somewhat hard considering I’m wanted”
You’re a changeling, just transform.
“Wha- I can’t!”
Sure you can, just… transform
“It’s illegal”
Are you serious? There’s an entire group of ponies and changelings that are hell bent on killing you, they blew up your apartment, they’re ready to terrorize this entire city just to get to you and you’re worried about doing something illegal…
“Look, I couldn’t change even if I wanted to… I don’t know how”
What do you mean you don’t know how… you’re a changeling, it’s in your blood, are you trying to tell me that you never transformed?
“No, nopony ever taught me how to”
Sheesh, all the items in the world and I was assigned to you… I’m going to have to teach you a lot of things if you’re going to become somepony.
“Hey!”
Don’t you hey me, the two of us are the key to the single most important event the last 500 years have witnessed and you’re telling me that you’re useless.
“I resent that!”
All right, enough of wasting time, we need to go, now.
Much to Stan’s surprise it was much easier being inconspicuous out in the streets, it was rush hour and everybody was coming back from home.
One single changeling hardly stood out from colonies of dragons, all three kinds of ponies and other changelings.
Soon enough, Stanley had reached the wall dividing the ghetto ruins form the rest of the city and was ready to take his first step past the point of no return.