//------------------------------// // The 12th - The Headlines Were Screaming Bloody Murder // Story: Beneath the Canon You Settle For // by The Amateur //------------------------------// Exiting from the library, I began noticing the layout (or lack of it) of Ponyville. It seemed that the town did not have a dedicated grid system, instead relying on the uneven terrain for some haphazard organization. It was little wonder how Rainbow and I could jump roofs to the library–– the buildings were constructed as tightly as possible with little thought for practical travel. Still, there was a rustic charm to the town. It was as though time never passed here. The place would not have looked out of place a thousand years ago. Combine that with the all–too prevalent smiles and friendly atmosphere and one has found Arcadia. A little ways from the entrance, Rainbow was standing smack in the middle of the street. Her head darted back and forth, eyes scanning the townsfolk for someone important. I walked over to her without giving any of the locals more than a second look. It was a miracle that the disguise was working as it was now, but I was not about to get cocky. She turned to me with a slanted expression. “I still don’t see Pinkie Pie anywhere… and I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.” “Definitely a good thing,” I whispered. “C’mon, show me the rest of this town before someone wises up.” Like the new residents of Cloudsdale, the ponies we passed on the street went out of their way to give us a smile or a morning greeting. Rainbow reacted likewise, even stopping our trek to exchange a story or two with a local fan. I quickened my pace every time she came to a halt. At the rate we were going, we would only get a few hundred meters before someone wised up. “Love the hat!” A royal guard slipped the remark as he walked past my right. I responded with a less than genuine smile. As he trotted away, I took full account of his uniform, which included of all things high–end military armor, a holstered bow, and a quiver of arrows. There was no mistaking the gold plating in this sunlight: Canterlot regular, day guard. Rainbow caught up to me and noticed where my eyes were. She began right away with contempt lining her voice: “He’s one of those ‘Cut and Dried’ soldiers Twilight and I were talking about. Or the CAD Battalion.” She pointed with a hoof around us, stopping at each armored pony who roamed the street. Seven gold–plated regulars were present in the area. “Some high–minded bureaucrats in Canterlot realized a lot of relief money was going to Ponyville to make up for our… constant destruction. In order to keep threats in check and, of course, reduce the bill, they sent a company of the royal guard to organize the CAD Battalion with our militia.” Rainbow snorted. “At least that’s the story they gave us. Oh! Over there is Town Hall and directly across from that is the headquarters…” It was obvious enough that there was bad blood between her and the battalion. Hard to blame her. Sending these guys to keep the peace in a place like this was akin to eliminating a rat infestation with a flamethrower. There were enough soldiers to give the impression that Ponyville was under occupation. I found one of the earth pony guards staring at us, but the moment I returned her gaze, she turned away and continued her impassive patrol. I nudged Rainbow to keep walking. We needed to finish this tour fast–– the walking armory out here was beginning to make my trigger hoof twitch. And on that thought: “What’s with the weapons? I don’t recall an incident in which Ponyville was held hostage.” Every gold–armored soldier had a sword, a spear, or a bow and arrows, worn in full display for the most pacifistic ponies in the country. They were not loaded guns, but in trained hooves, even a baseball bat could be a fatal instrument. “I haven’t the faintest idea. That there by the way is Sugarcube Corner, where our resident party pony stays. Best pastries you’ll taste in Equestria!” It was hard to miss a castle–sized gingerbread house. The sleuth in me sought to find out exactly what two cuckoos like Jetstream and Pinkie Pie were up to, but that was a mystery for another day. As we left Sugarcube Corner behind us, Rainbow continued, “Well, there was the one time we had an Ursa Minor rampage through town, but Twilight fixed that.” “After extensive property damage, I presume?” “...Yeah. Snips and Snails got on the CAD’s troublemakers list for that one.” Stifling a laugh after hearing that was no simple feat. I felt tears slipping out from under my eyes, but the most that came out of my mouth were a few ‘polite’ coughs. My voice had about as much composure as a two–legged stool as I replied, “Troublemakers list?” Either Rainbow missed the humor or I was laughing about a legitimate blacklist. “Yeah, all the probable candidates for Ponyville’s next disaster are kept on a list by the CAD. I, as a notable exception, was wrongly listed as a troublemaker! I’m a prankster, but that doesn’t mean my next prank will involve Town Hall’s destruction.” “The troublemakers list is sure more pleasant to say than ‘Ponyville’s Most Wanted.’” “This ain’t a joke, Fleetfoot. These guys take everything seriously. That’s Carousel Boutique, by the way. Rarity’s in there if you ever need a better disguise, but consider it a last resort.” We were entering the southeastern outskirts, which resembled a fairground with the plentitude of tents around. “Anyway, the Cut–and–Drieds have been watching me almost non–stop since they arrived something like a week ago. You’ve seen them too, staring at us and waiting for an excuse to call me out!  “They investigate every prank and then round up the usual suspects. Just the other day, somepony sprayed graffiti on their headquarters––” “Was that somebody you?” I asked. My mind was preoccupied with the forest on the horizon. In a village that literally sparkled in the daytime, it was just slightly alarming to see an area where the sun failed to shine. There were around two dozen more soldiers patrolling the treeline; not one of them was looking inside the forest’s depths though. I stopped and faced Rainbow, who still had not answered my question. She was searching the grounds for her reply. Coughing a little too convincingly into her foreleg, she responded, “Yes.” Rainbow used the same leg to point towards a hut further down the path, the closest any home was getting to that forest. “Fluttershy lives in the cottage over there. And before you ask, she only stays out this far for the animals. After her house, there ain’t another pony who would live near the Everfree.” “Where all the guards are?” “Yeah. Most of the CAD Battalion is stationed along the Everfree Forest, as they should be, preventing the wildlife from straying into town.” Rainbow fluttered her wings in preparation for a flight. With eyes on the guards, she told me, “We better go the other way. We’ve seen everything worth seeing in this corner of town.” I unfolded my wings and let a stray wind pass through the feathers. My energy had replenished over the therapy session at the library. “Okay, let’s go.” As I bent my knees for a springing start, I kept one hoof on my hat to prevent an unnecessary slip–up. My wings came down hard, and my legs pushed off the earth. Rainbow followed suit and reached my altitude in a blink. We were at a high enough point to see all of Ponyville from the river to the hills. “Sweet Apple Acres is the largest farm in Ponyville. It’s over to the southwest.” I followed her outstretched hoof to the apple orchard we had passed over on our first approach. “You can usually take a good nap there, so long as you choose a tree that Applejack is not currently bucking. Then over there…” Her hoof moved toward a simple cloud manor beyond Ponyville’s northern boundary. What looked like a gigantic rainbow tail jutted out of the roof. “…is my house. It’s a nice place, I swear!” She took point, flying slightly faster than my leisure pace. As we flew past Town Hall, a couple of sentries on the top balcony waved at us. Seeing as Rainbow returned the gesture, the sentries must have been militia. They were dressed in tin armor, which looked like the work of a school play’s costume designer. There was at least some truth in the CAD Battalion’s deployment: no bureaucrat was willing to spend a dollar more… or bit… for Ponyville. Fast approaching the manor, I noticed a few more personal touches to Rainbow Dash’s estate. She owned a custom stratus and a multi–floored tower constructed from cloud brick. The miniature rainbow falls on either side of the lawn were standard decorations for any pollyanna. Besides that, her home was rather humble–– at least compared to Cloudsdale standards. We glided to a landing at her front door. Rainbow turned to face me with a suave grin and a cocked eyebrow. “And the last important stop on our tour is the residence of the one and only Rainbow Danger Dash!” Her hindleg shot out and smacked into the front door, throwing it backwards and pinning it into a wall. The swishing sound that resounded from the hit resembled a dramatic entrance into a spaghetti western saloon. “Well, in actuality, there’s nothing special about this place. I was never one for interior decorating, you know?” The living room mainly consisted of three couches arranged facing one another around a rectangular coffee table. A garbage bin, discarded manuscripts, and a Wonderbolts poster were the only materials not made of clouds. Them and a tan and red songbird perched on a window on the far wall. It cocked its head in a curious look at me. My eyes were captivated by the sight of the bird for whatever reason. As I trotted deeper into the Dash residence, I brought up the other guest: “That bird on the windowsill. Your pet?” Rainbow Dash had followed me in, not even bothering to close the door. “You mean Columbia? Sort of. She flew into my house one day and wouldn’t leave. Fluttershy says Columbia’s a female northern cardinal. I’ve never considered owning a pet myself… but considering she finds her own food and sings some cool tunes once in a while, I’ve been having second thoughts.” I tore my eyes from Columbia for a moment to take a glance at one of the manuscripts on the ground. By the time I got around to reading the title, she had swept it off the floor with a hoof. Mumbling something pertaining to unfinished friendship assignments, Rainbow had all the papers piled into the corner in eleven seconds. “What were those––” “Oh, hehe, where are my manners? I should show you your bed now! C’mon upstairs!” The mare vaulted up a spiral staircase, leaving me with the cardinal. After having a stare–off with the bird, I finally relented and just went up after Rainbow. The steps were solid blocks of rain clouds, which did not give as much to applied weight as normal cumulus. The stuff was built to be as tough as tree trunks; it even functioned as malleable bulletproof armor. Speaking of which, where had all the firearms gone? I mean I missed getting shot at as much as police paperwork, but the nation’s supply of guns seemed to have disappeared overnight. Not confetti guns like the ones the smugglers had. I meant the ones that shoot lead, which hurt like a swing from a baseball bat covered with scorpion tails. The standing military force in town had a load of pre–industrial weaponry; the smugglers had toy blunderbusses; the CPD did not appear to carry firearms themselves either. First prohibition and now gun control? All the evidence kept pointing toward her Majesty in Canterlot, but I doubted that she could pull off a stunt this big. Then again, this train of thought was exactly what my therapy was trying to cure. I had to let go of this conspiracy fixation and focus on the stuff that mattered. “...and this is my bedroom!” Rainbow guided my eyes around the room with an outstretched hoof. There was a bed on an elevated platform and a blanket with her cutie mark to cover it. One drawer and a lamp sat next to the bed. Besides the single family picture on top, there were no personal touches to describe. I faced Rainbow, ready to ask her about the guest bed, but the sheepish expression she wore stopped me. Her magenta eyes flew around, looking everywhere I was not. “Well, uh, see… I didn’t really have time to prepare a guest bed. I don’t usually get visitors. So… we’ll have to share the bed.” “Alright,” I replied. Rainbow Dash stopped responding afterwards. Spotting the outline of a closet door across the sole window in the bedroom, I made my way over. I found inside a modest wardrobe consisting of wrapped cardboard boxes, a metal bar with half a dozen coat hangers, one gala dress, one Shadowbolts costume, and one typewriter. I called to Rainbow over my shoulder, “I’ll just hang up the trenchcoat and hat here, if you don’t mind.” An indecipherable stutter answered me back. Close enough to consent. With the disguise put away, my body felt ten times lighter. Nothing except my old Wonderbolts uniform and my husband’s leather coat seemed comfortable to wear anymore. Luckily for me, I would have a whole week to get used to my horrendous disguise. When I got back to Rainbow, she had recovered from whatever paralysis had taken her. The mare was still looking for words, but at least she was functional enough to recompose herself. I suppose the thought of rooming with a Wonderbolt had overloaded her poor head. “Well, thanks for letting me stay at your place, Rainbow Dash.” It was sincere gratitude, even if she was the sole reason I was here in the first place. A familiar whistle sounded from the window, pulling my attention to the window. Columbia the cardinal was perched on the sill, once more giving us a cocked stare. Caught by the mesmerizing appearance of the bird, I barely noticed what Rainbow had just said to me. I quickly reeled my head to catch what she had said. “What were you saying?” The Element of Loyalty cleared her throat and spoke once more with a shaking, but confident, tone: “Not a problem, Fleetfoot! I’m always ready to help out the Wonderbolts!” “Glad to hear,” I obliged. “It should about noon by now. You know anywhere that’s cheap to eat?” Rainbow Dash smirked. “I have an idea––” “Dash! Have you seen the headlines on the Foal Free Press?” Right through the window came a tangerine–colored pegasus with a cream white mane. Columbia barely showed a twitch in response to the sudden entry. Tucked to the visitor’s chest was a newspaper aptly named ‘the Foal Free Press.’ This was getting ridiculous. Did everyone in this village have an open door policy?  Wait… my disguise… “Apparently, THE Wonderbolt, Fleetfooooooaaaaaaahhhh!” The visitor promptly dropped the newspaper and gawked at me. She froze up on the spot and began an all–too familiar stutter. “R-r-rainbow D-dash! That’s Fleetfoot!” Loyalty rolled her eyes. “Really now?” She picked up the newspaper with her hooves. Her eyes scanned the front page, turning from mildly frustrated to alarmingly shocked in a second. It was the kind of look you could only achieve uncovering something as horrifying as a shrine made by your obsessive fan. That or entering a room full of hired guns talking about collecting your bounty. But I was reminiscing. Tangerine mare took a hesitant step toward me. “F-fleetfoot? Are you real?” The question did not bother me so much as the way she asked it–– strung higher than a fire alarm… with a high pitch… her voice was grating to the ears. I nodded. “I think so.” “Are you and Rainbow Dash best friends!?” “Sure.” Rainbow walked over to me, teeth clenched in an unsettled frown.Call it a hunch, but I think the headlines were about me. “The headlines are about you, Fleetfoot. I–– you should have a look for yourself.” The paper exchanged hooves underneath tangerine’s muzzle (how did she get this close?).  Two horseshoes on either top corner flanked the newspaper’s title. The real eyecatcher, however, was the plain, succinct––and expressed in capitalized, bold letters––heading and its accompanying picture. ‘BREAKING NEWS: FLEETFOOT, THE WONDERBOLT OR A HARD–BOILED VIGILANTE?’   There I was, standing in front of Twilight Sparkle’s library, a leather coat adorned rather than a trenchcoat, sunglasses, and a fedora. The photo had been forged, but the truth was out there now. A deadly virus released into Ponyville’s peaceful utopia. Something vicious this way comes. Fleetfoot at large.