//------------------------------// // Chapter 12 - A Tale of Two Cities // Story: The Curse of A Well-Read Man // by LeoneHaxor //------------------------------// Lee awoke to note Twilight sleeping astride him, caging his torso with lavender hooves. He also found that she had her barrel firmly against his bare chest, and he could have sworn he had a shirt on the night before. He wasn't sure what to make of the fact that manipulating anything below his waist was incredibly difficult. The Silvertongue looked briefly around the room to discover that he was alone in the bedroom with Twilight, and silently swore. This was definitely not good. Twilight made an adorable moan as she awoke, groggily lifting her head from Lee's collarbone. The unicorn's invisibility spell hadn't broken during the night, but somehow Lee could sense the hungry look on her face. "Good morning, Twilight," Lee said, silently swearing behind his poker face. The librarian's reply came inches from Lee's lips. "Good morning to you too, handsome," she purred. Lee kept up his poker face with Herculean effort. "I'd return the compliment, but you're invisible. Also, why did you remove my shirt?" "I wanted to know how you felt," Twilight said ambiguously. "Okay. And why did the sleeping bag become such a tight fit?" "What's wrong with that? I thought guys liked a tight fit," Twilight countered. Lee didn't, especially in this case. He had no line of sight to his glove – which was still on his hand, trapped in the sleeping bag – and all of his books were in his satchel three feet away. Twilight had him completely at her mercy. 'This is Papa Chaos calling Waifu Magnet, over.' The draconequis in Lee's head sounded like he was calling over a CB radio. While Lee would have words with Discord about the designation 'Waifu Magnet', he filed that away as a topic for later. Lee shifted his head to the side, focusing on his ace in the hole. 'Discord, what have you got for me?' he asked, ignoring the warm softness now on his cheek. 'Waifu Magnet, disengage, we have Pinkie inbound. Repeat, disengage, we have Pinkie inbound. Over.' Lee's poker face would have made Lady Gaga proud. "Twilight?" "Yes?" she said a little too quickly. "Would you mind making yourself scarce?" Lee felt her weight shift sensuously – merciful Adonis, his pants were still on! – as the invisible mare cocked her head. "Why would I want to spoil this moment alone?" "Because we're about to be a lot less alone in the next few seconds, and I think it'd be difficult explaining the pony in my sleeping bag. Especially when she's a dead ringer for the town librarian," Lee said pointedly. The sound of steps on the staircase made Twilight flinch, and she quickly teleported out. Lee let out a breath he didn't realize he had been holding, and was then alerted to the sound of Pinkie acting bananas. One might assume this was a phrase which here means, "to act in a wild and unpredictable manner," which in this case they would be half-right. Pinkie Pie was standing not two feet away, dressed as bunch of bananas. Lee briefly wondered where she got a palm tree in a temperate zone, but wisely accepted the explanation of "Pinkie Pie.” "Good morning, Pinkie," Lee said casually. "Good morning, Lee!" Pinkie said cheerfully. "Ooh, guess what I'm doing! Go on, guess!" Lee made a show of thinking it over. "You're acting bananas," he finally stated, and Pinkie's smile gained several inches. She giggled and hopped out of the bananas, them and the tree disappearing to god-knew-where. "How'd you know?" "Lucky guess," the Silvertongue managed without a trace of irony. Lee stood up and stretched. He twisted himself so that a few stiff vertebrae popped, and rolled his arms in their sockets. After a few more maneuvers, Lee gingerly placed his jacket back on himself, as he found Biblio sleeping in his pocket. Pinkie bounced over to the door as she told him that his breakfast would be ready soon. Realizing that he had some time, Lee decided to have a quick shower to start the day. ******** [Silias' POV] The dining room we were enjoying our breakfast in was a quaint little room. Nothing too fancy for a pastel palette, a table, plenty of chairs in case company came over, and a surprisingly hearty breakfast in front of us. Pancakes, muffins, a pitcher of orange juice, toast and various local jams – one read 'Zap Apple,' for instance – and so on. I had raised a brow when I noted the eggs, bacon, and ham, but apparently Pinkie Pie had no problems with serving meat. She didn't actually partake of the pork, though, so I wondered why Sugarcube Corner would be carrying it. Or for that matter, how and where they had gotten it. I go by Narnian rules when it comes to eating meat: I don't fork it if it ever talked. Which is why I winced when Setton scarfed several slices down, seeing as I had no idea if pigs were sentient here. I was drowning this disturbing train of thought with a nice cup of morning cocoa when Pinkie asked, “Do you think Lee liked sleeping with Twilight last night?” To my credit, I briefly faltered in my drinking. I knew for several reasons that there had been no frick-fracking, chief of which being conscious for most of the last night. No, the comedic cliché of the 'false bombshell drop' wasn't the issue here, at least not on my end. Covered in the spluttered remains of Setton's breakfast, I sat in cool silence for few moments, then calmly peered over the rim of my sunglasses. "...that was a terrible waste of a muffin," I deadpanned. Setton ignored this comment as he jumped to a lot of conclusions. “That...that...asshole!” he swore in a mix of anger and disbelief. “Did he seriously...” As he began ranting about the matter, I wondered if he realized there were two Twilights in this world, and whether he would think to ask which one Pinkie was referring to. This crossed my mind just as Lee stepped into the room, an oblivious morning-person's smile on his face. “Wow, breakfast smells delicious - ” he started. That was all he could manage before Setton tackled him. My palm went on a collision course with my face. ** [3rd Person POV] “So that's it? That's all that happened?” Lee sighed, finally able to enjoy his pancakes. "I merely shared a sleeping bag with the mare. No more, no less," he firmly stated. Which was a bit of a lie, because Twilight tried to join his shower. It did not end well for either party, and it was either a miracle or a bad omen that no one noticed. Lee frowned suddenly. “Why did you tackle me?” he asked. Setton rubbed his neck sheepishly. “Er...no good reason, now that I think about it...” In the back of Setton's mind, Orion spoke up. 'Oh really? Then explain all these fantasies I found over here about the two of you...' Setton fought to keep his body, or rather one member of it, from betraying his thoughts. It had been a while since the technically dead pegasus had 'spoken,' so Setton was doubly spooked. 'Put those things back where they came from, or so help me!' He felt strange when Aurora smacked Orion, but Setton thanked her anyway. Lee eyed the pink pony sitting across from him. "You knew about them from the get-go," he stated matter-of-factly. Pinkie smiled, rapping her noggin with a hoof. "Pinkie Sense!" she said cheerily. “For all your friend-making needs. It also helps to read the script, of course!” She looked around for a moment before continuing in a stage-whisper. "Don't worry, your secrets are safe with me. Almost nopony knows about who came with you." Silias took another sip of his cocoa. “Who else knows?” he asked casually. “For starters –” the mare started before a 'ding!' derailed the train of thought. “Ooh! That reminds me – I need to drop off some muffins! Be back in a few paragraphs!” And with that line, she made herself scarce. How she managed to do so is beyond me, and I'm the freaking narrator. Setton looked dumbfounded – at the information given, not Pinkie's antics. I'd like to say it was due to his understanding of the fandom's collective unconscious, but he just wasn't looking. “...who would know?” he asked. “Last I checked, those three all had invisibility spells over them.” Silias looked at him for a moment and downed the last of his cocoa thoughtfully. “I can think of a dozen ways one would find out. If we really want to find out, you and I will just have to investigate.” With that, he made for the door, gesturing for Setton to follow. Setton blinked and looked at Lee in uncertainty. The Silvertongue swallowed a mouthful of pancakes and waved him on. “Don't worry about me, I'll catch up with you guys later,” Lee said. Setton nodded at him, then made to follow Silias. Lee kept at his breakfast as their voices grew farther and farther away from Sugarcube Corner. A few moments passed in silence, and he sighed deeply. The mare poked her head from somewhere behind the fourth wall. "I'm back! Need anything?" “Actually, I do.” Lee cleared his throat. "I was wondering about the human settlement – how would I get there?" The pink pony smiled and waved a hoof. "Pfft, that's easy - just prove that you can't be trusted around ponies!" Lee raised a brow. "True, but I'd prefer just getting directions.” Pinkie gave him a funny look. Not 'ha ha' funny, but funny 'weird'. "Oh. You're serious.” Her hair drooped, and Lee nearly choked on his last pancakes.“Why do you want to go to such a boring place anyway? Don't you like Ponyville?" Pinkie asked. Lee scrambled to explain himself. "No, no, I like Ponyville, really. I don't want to buy real estate out there or anything, but I wanted to see the place for myself." Pinkie gave a quick giggle as her mane returned to normal. "Why didn't you just say so? I can take you there in a jif!" "I wouldn't want to impose -" Lee started, before Pinkie tackled him into a peanut-butter sandwich. When he was certain that they had left, Mr. Cake entered the room and stared at the sandwich. He then inspected it carefully, almost expecting it to explode or something, and proceeded to take a cautious bite. After a few seconds of thoughtful chewing, his face brightened. “Hey honey!” he called out to the front of the store. “I've got six words for our lunch menu: peanut butter and cotton candy sandwiches!” ****** Luna was secretly enjoying this. No, not the fact that Celestia was chasing her newest friend around the castle. But while one princess was running though the castle, the other was sitting on the throne. Sure, that meant she was handling the Day Court – and a particularly droll party of the nobles – but the throne high almost made this feel like a summer picnic with her closest friend. “I'm so glad that you feel so optimistic about these tax shifts, Your Majesty,” Blueblood beamed. “Now if I could just get your approval on these documents, perhaps we can finally have a more balanced –” Sadly for our favorite pseudo-royal, and all straight beings on his planet, a fully armored contingent of the Royal Guard flattened him. With the singular thought of 'WHAT' running through her mind, Luna directed her gaze at the ceiling. “...the hell...?” she murmured. Suddenly, The Beast stuck his head through a tear in the ceiling, surveying the ponies below. He made a seething sound with his glitch of a mouth. “My bad!” he called down. “I'd try to help you to your hooves, but I'm a little busy evading your other ruler at the moment.” “Where are you~?” a familiar voice crooned from the rift, and The Beast winced. “Speak of the devil...” he muttered. He then noted Luna sitting on the throne and stuck his right hand through the portal. He extended his thumb and pinkie finger, and held them to the side of his head with a wiggle. Finally, he drew back as the oddly door-shaped rift closed. As this sequence of events drew to a close, this fandom's second-favorite butt-monkey groaned in pain. A certain guardpony looked at Blueblood and shrugged. “Eh, you'll be fine after the next scene break.” “Thank you for your...assurance...Wall Breaker the Fourth,” Blueblood wheezed from beneath the pile of guards, whom Wall Breaker was oddly not a part of. “Now with that done, I have to get to my other duties.” He suddenly winked in a direction where no other pony was standing. “See you near the end of the chapter,” he told some unseen audience, and promptly went off-screen. Luna sat there in silence for a good five minutes, trying to process this all. The only words that coherently passed her lips were: “Did The Beast just make the human gesture for...'call me?'” ****** When Lee was able to comprehend his surroundings, he let out a low whistle. The mention of the settlement had piqued his interest, but the sight captured his attention. The streets were paved with cobblestone, at least in the square he was standing in, and multiple wooden stalls stood with varying foodstuffs on display, with people of all creeds standing around and behind them. No two buildings seemed to be from the same architect, as Renaissance-styles clashed with modern offices and Western saloons. It looked as though a time traveler plucked his favorite haunts from a scrapbook and dropped them haphazardly into a clearing. It was magnificent. Lee looked around the city lying under the beautiful blue sky, wholly unmarked by pollution. "You called this boring?" Lee asked in shock. Pinkie was mystified by the sight as well. "That was before the first story was retconned. And even then, our author didn't describe this place the first time it was a setting," she said with a distant gaze. “It was just a vague backdrop he used for spotlighting the creation of Princess Celestia's giant tentacle monster.” She looked at Lee and beamed. "But I like what this guy's done with the place!" Lee's response was lost as several explosions went off, drawing his gaze to the north. Pinkie, for her part, seemed enraptured by this development. “AND THEY NOW USE FIREWORKS TO GREET PONIES?” she screeched, blowing out the eardrums of an unfortunate passerby. Lee's eyes narrowed as alarm fugelhorns went off in his head. Then he proceeded to roll them as he mentally told off Discord for swapping his alarm bells with fugelhorns. Without losing too much of his composure, Lee managed, “Hate to say this Pinkie, but somehow I doubt they'd light fireworks at 9AM.” A manic cackle entered the square. “Allahu Ackbar, bitches!” Another explosion was punctuated by a pained cry of, “My cabbages!” An older, familiar voice was shouting louder than the others. “All officers in the area, contain that crazy bastard!” The owners of the voices came into view (except the cabbage guy, who was mourning his produce off-screen) and Lee's eyes widened. “Wait, isn't that...?” Shots rang out, shattering Lee's train of thought as he dove behind a vendor's booth. He would have dove towards Pinkie, but she seemed to have gone somewhere else. 'Hang on. Where did she...oh. She's inside that 1950's styled candy store. Well, she's sticking halfway out of it, but it's still better cover than what I've got,' Lee noted flippantly. The gunfire stopped as quickly as it began. Lee looked out to see a guy in a tracksuit – owner of the first voice – get dog-piled by several policemen. There was one man who had caught his attention, the one whose gleaming badge designated him as a detective. His weathered skin was the color and texture of leather, and stood a good half a foot taller than Lee. Lee carefully walked out from behind the booth. “Marcus Kain? Is that really you?” he called out. The detective regarded the Silvertongue with considerable surprise in his cerulean eyes. “Lee Richards? How did you...” The detective glanced around for a moment, then shook his head. “Actually, while I'd love to find out which eldritch asshole you pissed off in order to get here, I'm a little busy at the moment.” Lee glanced at the restrained and bleeding man being read his Miranda rights. “I can see that,” he deadpanned. “What's his deal, anyway?” Detective Marcus Kain rubbed his eyes wearily. “We're reasonably certain that he's part of this one nameless yet well-organized cult... that keeps switching objectives between helping humanity and fucking it sideways.” “Like the Nazis?” Detective Kain shook his head. “We're fairly certain no Nazis are living here yet, so if it was Nazis, they'd have to be holed up in an underground complex or something. And that would be unlikely.” His attention was diverted by an officer whispering into his ear. Nodding, he turned back to Lee. “Give me a moment to try interrogating this guy, then we'll talk.” The cultist was handcuffed to a pipe in the nearby alley, idly pulling at his restraints while looking around. Detective Kain moved in front of him and stood there for a moment. “First and foremost, we can cut you a deal here. We'll put in a good word at your hearing if you tell us who your contact is, and where can we find them.” The tracksuited cultist coughed up some blood. “Alright, fine,” he began slowly. “Around the corner from here, there's a pharmacy. Ask the guy at the counter for some of those little eyeglass repair tools, and it'll help you go SCREW YOURSELF!” The cultist then began cackling at his own joke. The air around the detective seemed to drop several degrees, which mildly confused the pegasus on weather duty. “Listen. We know you had help with getting that many bombs. Tell us who you're working for!” Marcus snarled. Even with his wounds, the cultist held a manic glint in his eyes. “You know, this is pretty damn funny. You not only think your wrinkly ass intimidates me, but that my boss would let me live if you did! But you know what, Detective Dipshit? I hate this shitty town – and my boss! – so you want your precious lead? Fine.” The cultist pulled a lighter from somewhere on his person and promptly went up like a Christmas tree. “Now I'm on fucking FIRE, your info's free game! The ones who sent me were... underground Naaaazzzzziiiiiisssss...” The detective looked at the smoldering corpse for a moment in silence. He finally looked up into the face of one of his subordinates. “Officer West. Call the morgue to pick up the body, and tell HQ it wasn't Sunhorse. Also, as of right now I'm calling in a sick day.” Marcus looked around before continuing in a lower voice. “Then I want you to find Schrödinger, have him meet me in my office at 2100 hours.” The officer gave a quick salute and sped off to the station. Marcus sighed and left the alleyway. As he came back into view, Lee caught the look on Marcus' face and frowned. “How bad was it?” Marcus sighed deeply. “Lee, by some jackass twist of fate, it's the fucking Nazis. Underground Nazis, no less.” Lee grimaced. “Sorry to hear that.” Marcus waved him off. “Don't be – while their involvement in my town pisses me off, I'm just glad it wasn't something to do with Sunhorse for once. Like that giant tentacle monster.” The man shivered at the memory, but moved past the trauma. “But enough about me, what the hell have you been up to?” ***** [Silias' POV] “Silias?” I didn't bother turning my head. “Yes, Setton?” “You said you wanted to ask around about, but...” Setton gestured to the large red building to the north, “If that's what we're really doing, then why are we staying within constant view of the schoolhouse?” he asked pointedly. I wondered if he would spot that before the time came. Barring that breakfast incident, the kid does have a sharp mind. “Because I'm going to be supervising Scootaloo once school has ended,” I answered. Setton's head tilted a bit, regarding me curiously. “Okay. Why's that?” “Simple. There's a list for those who can act as child supervisors each day. I volunteered, and I was assigned to keep an eye out for her and her friends,” I explained. What I didn't tell him is that list was designed with Scootaloo in mind. Technically, I was able to volunteer for the position because they needed to make sure the restraining order Scootaloo had against Rainbow Dash was being upheld. Setton considered this for a moment. “So we're on Cutie Mark Crusader damage control.” “Precisely,” I lied. If anything, I had filed this under 'Rainbow Dash Watch Duty,' based on what the Mayor told me last night. Though I had a bad feeling that Setton was right. The sound of the schoolhouse's bell snapped me from that train of thought. I tapped Setton on the shoulder and gestured towards the schoolhouse. “Come on. Community service awaits.” As we closed the distance between us and the schoolhouse, we found ourselves oddly alone. Setton decided to strike up a more sensitive conversation. “Why did you leave me and Twilight in a group by ourselves? When we split up earlier, I mean.” I slowed my pace a bit and frowned at the question. “I don't follow,” I lied. “You left me alone with a sex-crazed pony in a potentially infinite library. She could have jumped my bones at any time and that would've been the end of me. Why did you do that?” “Because that danger didn't exist at the time,” I replied with a bit more force than necessary. “Biblio was acting as a beacon for your position in the Peisistratos at all times, keeping me updated on which Doors you were using. He also was instructed to call in the calvary if she did make a move.” Setton stared at me for a moment. “What calvary?” “The two thousand bone spiders I had him ask to act as your backup. And before you say anything about being excessive, that's the standard amount allocated to any major section in the library.” It wasn't, but he didn't need to know that it was a hundred times more than the norm. Setton's face went crimson, though God (and Setton's book, I suppose) only knows why. “Nice to hear that you care so much,” he muttered. And the rest of the hike was in silence. **** [3rd Person POV – Lee] Marcus whistled. “And here I thought I had my work cut out for me. You do realize that it'll be like looking for a needle in a stack of needles, right?” Lee nodded. “It may take a while, but it won't be that daunting for long. You see –” An oddly familiar tune drifted through the streets towards them, but the odd architecture distorted Lee's sense of where it was coming from. Lee raised a brow in confusion, his previous train of thought broken. “Who's playing that music?” he asked as his gaze sweeped the square. Marcus listened for a moment and nodded. “Yeah, I recognize that voice. It's Joss playing another one of his ballads. He plays in the North Courtyard every three days.” Lee glanced at him as they walked in the direction of the music. “Why every three days?” “Well, usually it's safer for him to be out there whenever Mask☆Demasque is in charge of the town.” Noting Lee's baffled expression, the detective elaborated. “Our settlement switching between leaders each day was Sunhorse's decree. It's literally the stupidest way to run a place like this, but I'm reasonably certain was the plan from the get-go.” “Wait, who's Mask☆Demasque?” “Our nickname for the masked mayor. No one actually knows their identity, but they seem to like the moniker.” Lee was about to ask about that in more detail, but they had reached the Courtyard in question. Sitting near an outdoor pub was a man with an acoustic guitar, and he had the attention of a number of the patrons and passerby. He strummed the strings once and began to sing. “Bass! Vinyl Scratch and Bass!” “They robbed from the rich and they gave to the poor, Stood up to the Trump and they gave him what for! Our love for them now ain't hard to explain, the heroes of Canton, our Vinyl and Bass!” Lee froze in place as the lyrics began to process. “You have got to be kidding me...” “Now Bass saw the padders' backs breaking, And he saw the padders lament. Then he saw old Donald Trump taking Every dollar and leaving five cents. Vinyl said: 'You can't do that to these people! You can't crush them under your heel!' So Bass strapped 'er on his back and in five seconds flat Stole everything The Donald had to steal.” Lee looked incredulously at Marcus, who was listening to the song with amusement. “Padders?” he questioned. “And what's this about Donald Trump?” Marcus spared him a glance. “Rice fields are our main trade ticket with the rest of the world, kind of why we were able to finance this place. The day after he got here, however, Trump had made this casino district that would make Doctor Robotnik drop his jaw. Then made it mandatory to play at a casino on days his administration was in effect,” Marcus huffed. “And yes, he was chosen by Sunhorse to be a mayor, so one third of the month he's lining his pockets with everyone else's hard-earned wages.” “Now here is what separates heroes From common folk like you and I: Bless Vinyl and Bass, they came o'er this place And let that money hit sky! Lee sighed. “We've barely been here twenty four hours,” here he gestured to Joss, “and in that time-frame, the baby Legstep gets his own freaking ballad.” Marcus shrugged. “Weirder things have happened in this town,” he admitted. He looked up to see the new arrivals in the square. “Sing of the devils...” “They robbed from the rich and they gave to the poor, Stood up to the Trump and they gave him what for! Our love for them now ain't hard to explain, the heroes of Canton, bless Vinyl and Bass!” The entire courtyard sang the last line at full volume, bursting into raucous cheers at the very end. Of course, this could have been directed at the Dubstep Duo making it hail. After about a small mortgage's worth was distributed, Lee's eyes fell to the shield at Marcus' hip. The detective got the message and smiled. “I'm not going to arrest them, Lee. Even if I wanted to – which I don't –non-humans cannot be tried for any crimes perpetrated in the city limits - that means no gryphons, no minotaurs, no dragons, no ponies, and no Legsteps can be prosecuted. The rule also applies to our mayors, so I can't toss Trump's slimy ass in jail.” Marcus' expression hardened. “Of course, that means that humans can't defend themselves against any outside threats. We had a serial killer a few months back that killed a few dozen people. To make matters worse, it turned out to be one of the goddamn Elements of Harmony.” Marcus seemed to age a few years with the memory. “That was an utter nightmare for my department, and that's saying something when our regular crap takes a mountain of self-contradicting paperwork.” Lee's eyebrows shot up. “Out of curiosity, which of the Elements was committing those murders?” he asked slowly. Marcus looked at Lee as if he was insane. “Who else? Fluttershy.” [/hr] The Beast paused as he exited the most recent of the rifts. There it was again. That presence meant only one creature, and there was no mistaking his authenticity. The Beast turned to see him standing near another of the castle's spatial shortcuts. The figure stood motionless for a moment, and the soft thump of a book closing echoed in the room. Nodding to the Fear, the figure motioned for the Beast to follow him down the rabbit hole. The Beast found himself in the midst of a dark, dreary place that most mortals would come to expect of such a venue. Frigid metal bars and clammy masonry, well-worn chains with surprisingly little age, and dancing flames to provide illumination. Though true to those cliches, the palace dungeons also housed one Big Damn Royal Coffee Machine. Ignoring it for now, the Beast swept his gaze to track the figure moving thoughtfully along the cells. Lengthening his stride, the Beast quickly arrived to the side of he who led him here, and matched his pace effortlessly. They walked in silence for some time before he spoke. “I was wondering how long it would be before you showed yourself.” A hint of a smile found it way into the response. “And what gave me away?” “I felt the library acknowledge your presence, just before those children manifested themselves out of the boy.” The dungeons were met with the alien sound of a chuckle. “I shouldn't have expected any less of you.” The Beast gestured to the dungeons around them. “Onto the matter at hand, why are we having this conversation, and here of all places? I noticed a room upstairs that would have better fit your tastes,” he pointed out. The Fear at the Beast's side barely broke stride with his answer. “It's simple. We're going to stop walking in front of a door. Hopefully, you'll take its contents.” The Beast pondered this for a moment. “You wish me to add yet another piece to your board,” he realized. The old Fear shrugged. “If you wish to call it that...” The rest of the walk was in silence, until the Beast heard music coming from a speaker glued to the cell door. The Beast looked at it incredulously. “In The Cage by Genesis? Was that really necessary-” But his companion had vanished. The Beast picked up the key hanging over the cell, and placed it in the lock. “You never change, Tiresias,” he mused quietly. Then the door swung open, and light began to fall upon the room's occupant. [/hr] [Silias' POV] Ever hear the phrase, 'Pyrrhic victory?' Rewind about twenty-five minutes, back to where Setton was trying to convince the Crusaders that a demon-summoning cutie mark wasn't the best thing to shoot for. See, they asked us if we could help them crusade – to find out what they're good at in life – and I was all for helping them. Setton tried to tell me that it was like the story of Sisyphus, but sadly for him I decided to play the part of the 'fun chaperone.' First up was rocketeering. It seemed a little out of the blue to me, but I learned that the native Applejack has some impressive engineering skills. The final rig was a masterpiece...until the test pilot blew up an abandoned house. No marks for any of them in multiple respects, which certainly proved Lee's immortality theory. Scootaloo was the pilot. Later, they decided to shoot for marksmanship (badumtiss). Missed all of the targets lined up against the broad side of a barn, and proceeded to miss that spectacularly. They accidentally shot some apples off the trees (somehow) so there's potential there. But back to demons. What started off as a joke at Sweetie Belle's expense ended up becoming a serious discussion, and it was a good thing I was there. I was able to give them some pointers on how to handle one, since they decided to go through with it – salt's effectiveness as a barrier, how demons react to the Lord's Name, how to bless your own holy water, the works. Setton cracked after about twenty minutes of my teaching, which is understandable given what I doing at that point. “What the hell do you think you're doing?” Setton hissed at me. I had taken the time to mix some salt, iron fillings, and goober dust into a bucket of red paint, which I was using on the only slab of asphalt in Ponyville. “I'm showing them how to make a demon trap,” I replied as casually if I was making a sandwich. “I can see that you're making a demon trap,” he seethed. “But WHY are you showing them how to do it?” I looked over to the girls for a moment, who for their age were taking phenomenal notes of the demon trap. “Because if they're going to do this kind of thing, the least I can do is make sure they're armed with the right tools.” I went back to inscribing the protection runes along the outer circle, taking great care not to smudge the paint as I did so. “Summoning agents of Tartarus isn't something a responsible caretaker teaches to children.” “Actually, it is. At least in this case.” I paused as I completed the trap. “Alright, Crusaders. We'll give this a few more minutes to finish drying, then you'll get to summon your first demon. Now, have you got your protection charms?” “Check!” Sweetie Belle confirmed. “Book's open to your summoning chant?” Scootaloo held up the pages in question. “Check!” “Emergency salt, goofer dust, and holy water?” Applebloom was holding them in her saddlebags, which she wiggled gently. Someone died of cuteness somewhere in the background. “Check, check, and check!” I put on my best 'proud John Winchester' face. “They grow up so fast,” I said with pride. Setton stared daggers into me. “You're summoning a god damn demon–” “Into a trap that would take a supernatural nuke to bring down.” I spread my arms out to nothing in general. “I'm supportive, but I'm not stupid.” Setton looked around before sighing. “If this goes south, you'd better hope they take your health insurance,” he said, clearly resigned. I met his gaze for a moment. “Setton, if any of this went wrong, health insurance would be the least of our worries. But we'll be fine, I swear.” Setton made a motion of washing his hands before ducking into an alleyway. Applebloom looked at me oddly. “Are ya SURE this is safe?” she asked uneasily. “I've done this before so many times, I joined Hell's Reward Club: 'summon seven demons, get a hellhound free.'” I looked around before continuing in a stage-whisper. “By the way, remind me to tell you about how to obtain one as a guardian.” Suddenly, there was a commotion coming from the south, sounding incredibly loud and incredibly close. I was about to ignore it, but then I remembered which way Setton had gone. “Girls, I'm going to go check on Setton. I'll just be a moment.” I made my way over to the alleyway, and stepped onto a side street. The moment I emerged, everything went to Hell. Setton was standing in front of a gray-coated pegasus mare. Her eyes were wide, and I could immediately see that they were off. Pentagrams were practically burned into her irises and corneas, and were locked on Setton's eyes. Neither of them were moving, but they seemed to still be breathing. I frowned as I remembered Biblio's work on him, and realized just how much trouble he was in. Judging by the trance they seemed to be in, he performed a Soulgaze. See, eyes being the windows to the soul isn't an old wives' tale. If you have the talent, then you can know exactly what they're made of. Everything from mild depression to demonic possession is laid bare, and neither party can stop that. Furthermore, the memory of a Soulgaze is supposed to become permanent in both minds. Now, normally this wouldn't be a problem. The average person's soul could be anywhere from H.H. Holmes to Mahatma Ghandi, but it wouldn't drive you insane so long as you steered clear of a Soulgaze with your not-so-average person. Like a Fear, or in this case a seer. I took as close a look as I dared into those eyes, watching their patterns dance before it clicked. Dad told me about these eyes, a long time ago. He told me that of all the things you didn't want running around in someone's mind, it was another person who couldn't stop the flow of information. Let me clarify this for those at the back of the class. Her gaze could pierce skin, stone, time, and even the Void. What scared me was that while she was looking at Setton, Setton was in her mind. While she was learning everything about what he was, is, and would be, so would he. And he would never forget it... Unless... I called out to the bone spiders still in the library, and they heeded me without flinching. I felt my consciousness split between my body and theirs, rocketing them towards where his Book was located in the Peisitratos. A wall of ivory surged through the ageless archive, startling the hell out of a strange girl in one of the sections. I paid her little mind as I forced them onwards. His Book was shaking violently, and without hesitation I ordered them to open it. It was worse than I feared. Knowledge of whose blood he shared, whose blood he would spill, and the nature of the blood running in his veins. Knowledge of the Fallen and his Crusade, the Prophesy of Ink and Song, and a resurrected messiah of the weaklings. Knowledge of my Father, and of his hand in all of this. And so much more. I forced the spiders into overdrive. I forced them to erase, obfuscate, sew, and even tear out pages from his book of memories. I fought those memories with over a thousand bone spiders at once, pushing myself to limits I never dared to push before. I didn't even care that mare was staring at me, jaw on the ground as I pushed more and more of my mind into saving Setton's. I pulled out every trick I had learned from my Father, even improvising several times, and after what felt like centuries I finally released my hold on the bone spiders. The effect upon me was immediate, and I felt one hell of a headache coming on. Reflecting upon the experience, I wondered if Salmacis felt like that whenever she moved her Camper about. I then dropped that thought as pain throbbed in my head. Meanwhile, the fruits of my labors came to his senses. Setton blinked and looked around. “What the hell was I just doing?” he asked blankly. I stumbled over to him and, without saying a word, wrapped him in a hug. He was surprised for a moment, but his recovery time was not too shabby. “Um...not that I'm against hugging, but why are you acting like this?” “My sense of balance is shot, and I don't want to fall on my face,” I half-lied into his shoulder. “Give me a minute, and I'll be fine.” Setton blinked – or at least I thought he did – and peered over me. “...okay, but why is Ditzy Do staring at you so intensely? It's like she's looking at Cthulu or something.” I laughed a little bit. “Let's just say I might have done something to deserve it,” I said in a low tone. I realized that he had to have noticed her eyes from that position, and inspiration struck. Wihtout raising my voice, I continued. “With those pentagrams on her eyes, her eyesight surpasses 20/20, that's a given. I'm reasonably certain she can see my past.” Setton remembered what he had learned of my time in the Ceeverse and winced. “I think whatever you saw back then broke her. It would explain why she got stuffed into a bag marked 'Patient Transport.'” I thought he was joking, but I turned to see a few ponies hogtying Ditzy's already captured form. “Gee, they work fast,” I quipped darkly. Setton had a mix of sorrow and something else on his face. “Actually...my guess is they were chasing her long before that,” he said haltingly. “They have to have a good reason, but I have to wonder why they're carting her off to an insane asylum.” My mind flashed to those eyes of hers. I knew exactly why. That kind of knowledge isn't meant for mortal minds. Hell, my Father has access to that kind of knowledge, and he had a death wish for a good chunk of his life. I didn't say any of this out loud, but I reminded him that the CMC were waiting for us on that other street. [POV: 3rd person, The Beast] The Beast managed to leave the city of Canterlot without a single pony panicking. Well, ONE pony panicked during his escape, but that was a special case we'll address in a moment. A bright flash filled his vision, and it was soon replaced by a familiar form. Despite the suddenness of the arrival, The Beast addressed it calmly. “I trust you found my note,” he began. “Princess Celestia.” The solar regent's face was unreadable. “And I see that you treated yourself to a souvenir,” she replied. Encased in his branches was the object in question, and The Beast nodded once in its direction. “I believed this would suit my needs. And I take it you have no objections to this arrangement.” “None that come to mind. That chase was some of the most fun I've had in centuries, and it's clear from your choice of prize that you have interesting tastes.” Celestia responded with a wicked smile. “Perhaps when you've had your fill of that fragile thing, you'd prefer something to indulge yourself with something a little more...durable...” she purred. “I imagine it would be a pleasurable experience.” The Beast said with a tip of his hat. “I shall keep your offer in mind, should I return to this place.” The regal mare waved a hoof dismissively. “It doesn't matter if it's in my chambers or in the middle of the human colony.” Her eyes gleamed with the aura of a certain Deadly Sin. “I would gladly take the time to show you a good one, Beast.” And with that, she was gone. The Beast walked southwards, following the path the chariot took hours earlier. As he traversed the fields between him and his destination, The Beast delicately unwrapped the cocoon he had made to shield his prize. “So, little one,” he addressed it. “Now that we have some time to ourselves, we should begin with the basics. What should I call you?” “...my name is –” Lee sat contently at the table, sipping a glass of chocolate milk. Marcus assured him that drinks would be way more affordable than usual, and 'the really good stuff' would be in stock, but Lee preferred not to drink alcohol for the time being. His abilities relied on clear speech, unless Discord took the wheel...and Lee did not want to call the rainbow friendship death ray on his ass. “I wager that giant stone foot has something to do with the balance of power,” he commented idly. Sitting across from him was a blue unicorn mare nursing a double brandy in her hooves. “That only gets built when Kim Jong-Il is in charge. He's egotistical, sure, but I'd rather be working for him.” She took a swig of the honest to God flagon she held. “Hell, anyone would be better at this point.” Lee steepled his fingers. “That reminds me, someone told me about you working with Donald Trump.” “FOR. I work for Donald now,” she corrected icily. “I've been reduced to a secretary of all things.” The Buzzed and Pissed Off Trixie began to do impressions of her boss. “'Trixie, run out and fetch me some coffee.' 'Trixie, I need to see our profit margins.' 'Trixie, I want to do missionary this time.' Believe me when I say I hate every minute of it.” Lee was glad he wasn't drinking at that point, but unfortunately Discord sprayed cola over their shared mindscape. Lee felt weird when this happened, but he soon realized the reason behind the improbable spit-take. Apparently a tableau of Trixie's woes manifested in his minds' eye, and the spirit caught himself in the middle of summoning a bottle of lotion. He threw that idea out as too predictable and instead summoned hand sanitizer. Forcing that lovely image out of his mind as quickly as possible – much to Discord's disappointment – Lee focused on Trixie once more. “So if you hate the job so much, why don't you just look somewhere else?” Trixie looked at him as if he was incredibly dense. “You don't get many offers of employment after messing with all six Elements. Besides, Donald has the actual ability to pay me, unlike most of the humans in this colony.” Her expression darkened again. “Though I really want to get even with someone. I don't know who yet, but I really want to dish out some revenge on someone.” “Then go for it.” Trixie stopped and really looked at Lee for a moment. “Really?” Lee nodded. He looked around the plaza before continuing. “Just so you know, ponies can't be tried for crimes committed in the colony,” he whispered. Trixie's eyes shot wide. “As in...?” she asked quietly. “Within the colony limits.” Trixie murmured to herself. “This gives me a lot of options...” She stood up shakily and extended a forehoof. “Thank you. This was a good talk...” “Lee.” Trixie nodded. “Lee. You're one of the few humans who hasn't come up to me for a marriage proposal, nor have you been like Donald Trump. You and Obama are cool in my book,” she said, not realizing how many Republicans she pissed off in the comments. “Now all I need to do is decide how to go about this revenge...” she muttered as she left the plaza. By the time she was gone, Lee found himself surrounded by bronies. “...can I help you?” he asked. The most cringeworthy brony you would never want to imagine – and I refuse to describe him further to spare the last meal in your system – stood forwards and pointed at Lee. “Give us your hand,” he ordered. It came out as a sweaty wheeze, which was hardly as intimidating as he would have imagined. Lee raised a brow. “Why?” “We want your hand so we can make Trixie clones from the DNA on it.” Lee stood his ground. While still sitting at the table. Occasionally sipping at his chocolate milk with the hand Trixie shook, just to make them twitch. “If anything, you'd probably make some weird anthropomorphic amalgamation of us,” he said after a while. “Assuming you learned how to clone things here.” The bronies huddled for a moment. “We have no objections to this arrangement,” the Neckbeard announced. Marcus reloaded his gun from behind the group, scaring their love-handles off. This made a concentrated, flabby hailstorm that the detective emerged from unfazed. “You don't. But I do. Sethisto, you and your boys best get out of here before I am authorized to call Billy Mays. Again.” The bronies paled. “I don't want to get on the ball,” one whispered in horror. The terrified men fled and left a trail of Mountain Dew and Doritos, which scavengers quickly scooped up. Lee nodded at Marcus. “Thanks, man.” “Anytime.” Marcus holstered his gun and gave the bartender a tip. “By the way, didn't you say that Pinkie Pie came with you?” Lee paused. “I have a feeling I know where she is...” But then he was interrupted by a peculiar figure. “Oh, good – I made it here with plenty of time,” he said to some unseen listener. Lee looked at the pony with a dazed expression. The only detail he could pin down was a nametag that read “Wall-Breaker the Fourth,” while the rest was a bit wonky. “Why does your form keep shifting?” The...pony...looked himself over. “Oh, so you noticed. A little creative difficulties on the author's ends. Your author – my creator, by the way – intended me to be a pegasus with more maroon-ish tones, but the author of this universe wanted me to look like Shining Armor without a horn. I'm a little bit weird right now thanks to a stubborn lack of retconning on either end.” Lee stared at him for a moment, processing this information. Discord felt like the pony was overcompensating for something. The Silvertongue ignored this, then decided to go for broke and speak the pony's language: Shameless Meta. “And your purpose in this scene is what, exactly?” Marcus gave Lee a warning look. “This is Wall-Breaker the Fourth, appointed by Sunhorse to oversee the city –” “Ironically, a human's idea,” Wall-Breaker the pegasus cut in. “Though not one from around here...” “...and he probably came up to us because he wanted a situation report on those cultists,” the off-duty detective continued, ignoring the interruption. He had put up with Wall-Breaker long enough to ignore the pained screams of the Fourth Wall being mutilated. The currently pegasus official pointed a hoof at Marcus. “True, those cultists are high on my priority list, but I also wanted to keep my promise.” He looked in a random direction and smiled. “See that, readers? I'm a stallion of my word.” Lee raised a brow. “Your name really sells you short,” he noted, “or perhaps you take it too seriously.” Wall-Breaker rolled his now Earth Pony hoof from side to side. “I feel you. By the way, it was also a human's idea to make me this meta. Your author was originally going to be more subtle about it, but a human just went overboard with the concept in Obama Returns. Your author then said, and I quote, 'Fuck it.' So here I am.” Lee looked over at Marcus, who sighed but said nothing. “Oh, and you may be getting a Tragedy tag soon.” Lee's head whipped back to the pegasus(?), who continued unabated. “Your buddy Silias is going to need a lot of counseling if I didn't get a bum script.” Lee's eyes shot wide. “Look, Marcus, I need to get back to Ponyville.” Marcus lifted a brow. “...well, we both knew Silias was going to have problems when we figured out whose son he was. Truth be told, I think he'll be fine for the moment. But if you need to get back quickly, you can always –” Pinkie tackled Lee into another sandwich. “...get an eldritch party-planner to take you through a space-time anomaly?” Wall-Breaker suggested. For once, the aging detective's jaw had dropped. “Yeah...I guess that works too...” he said. He then was in the mood for something strong. Wall-Breaker kept pace with Marcus. “Ooh, I'll have a double brandy!” I hope to Christ I don't have to narrate scenes with that guy again... “I heard that!” Wall-Breaker called out. Shit, he's really onto me. Quick, scene break! When Lee popped out of subspace, he looked at Pinkie Pie. “Where were you all day?” “Swapping candy recipes with Mister Hershey,” she reported with a smile. “Oh, and I got a bunch of these from Mister Johnson!” she said as she pulled a strange box out of her mane. Lee looked at the label. “'24 Combustible Lemons?'” he read aloud, and then realized what he just did. Then Lee swore as 24 combustible lemon grenades began pelting him from the sky. By the time he could see straight Pinkie was gone, leaving a note in her place. Lee read it to himself – silently – and raised a brow. He did as the note instructed and turned around... ...to find a siege in progress. It wasn't against a castle per se, as Ponyville didn't have one of those yet, but it was holding out the would-be invaders as if it was one. Setton waved him over. “Hey, Lee, great timing! Give us a hand, will ya?” Lee stared at the scene in front of him for a good long moment. “What the hell is going on here?” he asked dumbfounded. “They're trying to steal what is rightfully mine!” cried the mare under siege, Rarity, from the roof of Carousel Boutique. Setton gestured at her indignantly. “Hey, you have the Doctor, a freaking Time Lord, chained up in there like a sex slave!” Rarity huffed at this response. “Not like a sex slave, darling. There's no doubt about the nature of his stay.” Lee raised a brow. “And that is?” “As my sex slave.” Setton indicated Rarity with both arms. “See?” Lee looked between Rarity and the three bipeds huddling behind a makeshift barricade. “You have a flipping Fear – scratch that, the Keanu Reeves of the Fears – on your side, and you're still not making headway?” he asked incredulously. Silias sighed. “You would not believe the things she pulled off in the past several hours.” “Try me.” Silias described in great detail the strategies that were deployed by either side. Infiltrations pushed back by an ungodly amount of skill with a whip; an attempt to tunnel under ran into a magically diverted sewer system, the result of which called for an immediate hiatus by both sides; a Jell-O assault – and the list went on. Lee looked over at Carousel Boutique. “Sounds like a lot of effort went into it. However...if the Doctor's involved, then so are fixed points in time...” Setton didn't like where this was going. “...meaning that, if you guys keep failing so spectacularly no matter what you do...” “We are not intended to free him,” The Beast finished. Silias threw his hands up. “Wonderful. This was a waste of everyone's time, then.” “Not necessarily.” They looked up to see Rarity smiling. It was hella creepy, especially when she made her eyebrows dance. “I don't know about you boys, but I certainly worked up an appetite.” She then pulled a whip out of her ass wherever Pinkie stores her stuff, and went back inside. A minute passed, and there were faint sounds of snapping leather and Time Lord screams from within the building. The branches on The Beast's back shivered, drawing Lee's attention. “Beast? What's that you're carrying?” The Beast looked around before answering. “I would rather get out of the street before I reveal it,” he said after a moment. “Seeing as I am uncertain as to how those on the street would react.” In the top room of Sugarcube Corner, The Beast revealed the contents of the branch cocoon. “I hope you do not object, but I intend to take this one with us when we leave.” Setton took one look and fainted. The unicorn mare looked at Setton in concern, then looked at herself in the mirror. “Do I really look that bad?” she asked no one in particular. Lee tilted his head, regarding her earnestly. “A bit of malnutrition, some bruises, but nothing too horrifying,” he reported. He bent down next to Setton and gave him a quick once-over. “In my opinion, I think he recognized you and had a massive fangasm.” Silias looked around briefly. “You know, maybe we should do a round of introductions...” The mare waved a hoof. “The Beast told me your names while we traveled, but I guess I haven't mentioned mine.” She then extended a hoof in Silias' direction. “The name's Sunset. Sunset Shimmer.” “The name's Silias Aeson,” he began, before Biblio popped up onto his shoulder. “And this here is Biblio, the bone spider.” The bone spider in question skittered over Silias' outstretched arm and stopped briefly at Sunset's hoof. He looked almost as if he was sniffing it for a moment, then continued up Sunset's leg. To Lee's surprise, the unicorn didn't object to this contact. As if sensing this, Sunset looked over at Lee. “I've seen weirder things that were a lot less friendly,” she explained as Biblio played with her hair. Lee then looked between the other bipeds, then asked Sunset if he could speak with them in private. When they were several paces away, Lee addressed the Beast. “So what's her story? Why do you want to take her with us?” The Beast began to explain the situation in detail. Apparently her family had been used for the Royal Coffee Machine some time ago, after Sunset attempted to assassinate Princess Celestia. For years Sunset had been languishing in Canterlot's dungeons, subject to various kinds of torture and extreme kinks Celestia harbored. Lee crossed his arms in thought. “From what I heard from Marcus, that's pretty run of the mill around here,” he pointed out. “But why choose her in particular?” “Ah. Tiresias led me to the cell she was being held in. Then he asked me to take her when I left. Considering his nature, I thought it wise to see where this would lead.” Silias' eyes went wide. “Do you know where he went?” The Beast shook his head. Silias stared at Lee for a moment, and Lee held up his hands in surrender. He knew full well how Silias felt about Tiresias and his input, so it was no use trying to argue with the man. Thus, our heroes gained another party member. “Did somebody say –” Not that kind of party. “Darn!”