1
On the surface, Manehattan seemed like a relatively peaceful city. It had its hazards hazards, of course, but it was still a generally safe place to live for the average pony. Ask any of the one million citizens, and they’d say there’s nowhere else they’d rather be.
Charade snorted as the thought crossed her mind, offering a deceptively optimistic view. She knew better - every place had its dirty little secrets, and Manehattan was no different. Barely few of those million could comprehend the dark, crime-infested underbelly, where the Red Hoof reigned supreme and the Guard did all they could to keep him in check. Hell, most of them probably didn’t even know the Red Hoof existed.
She strolled along the sidewalk, ignoring the simple pedestrians. Part of her even wished she could be as ignorant as them; then she wouldn’t be back here, getting herself re-involved in this cesspool. She was quite happy back home, and she couldn’t wait to hop back on the train and leave.
Sighing, she forced herself onward into the night. When the Red Hoof came calling, it was best to answer.
* * *
“You’re late,” the Red Hoof growled from his winged chair, not bothering to look at Charade. “I sent for you months ago.”
“Sorry about that, you’d be surprised how much red tape you need to get through before you can officially visit Equestria...what?” she asked, noting his expression. “I’m leader of a village out there, I have to play by the book.”
“Indeed,” he replied. “You’re a difficult one to track down. Now that you’re here, however-”
“You promised me fight of a lifetime in return for capturing some caped bitch, I know. I’d have appreciated a few more details, but then I did leave you hanging for a few months. Sorry about Abacus, by the way,” she added, wincing.
“Abacus isn’t your concern,” he said coldly.
“Right. Er, now could you please tell me where they are?” She asked, her tone betraying her boredom a little. “Once I know that they’ll be yours in an hour or so.”
The Red Hoof rose from his chair, facing Charade. As lanky as she was, he stood taller still, looming over her by at least a foot. She fought hard against flinching beneath his sharp blue glare. His coal-black coat only added to the idea that he was more a monster than a pony. "Do not underestimate this mare, Charade. I’ve called you here for a reason."
“She’s that good, huh? Don’t worry. I don’t lose,” she grinned a little. “Just so we’re clear, this is the only thing you called me into town for, right? Because I’m not planning on sticking around for too long after I’m done. I’ll make a few visits and then be one my way.”
“Very well.” He turned away. “Her name is Snow Storm. She lives at the Orange grove. As I said, do not underestimate her. It would take nothing short of an army to bring her in, and I do not want that sort of attention drawn to myself.”
“Alive, right? Got it. See you in an hour.” She gave a mock salute, turning to the door and running off at an impressive gait.
2
Snow Storm yawned, rubbing her eyes. It was barely 3am, but she could feel Figaro, the Diamond Dog pup she had ‘adopted’ mere weeks before, tugging at her leg.
“Alphamom…” he said, whining adorably. “Could you get me some milk from the fridge? I can’t reach it.”
“Huhsure,” she muttered sleepily, shuffling her way through the dark. It had been one of her weirdest dreams yet - Bolt Buck had become a Wonderbolt. She snorted, amused at the idea.
The kitchen was as dark as the rest of her home, but she knew her way around automatically. She winced, dazzled as the fridge light assaulted her eyes, making her blink the spots away. For a moment she thought she saw a silhouette of a pony in the corner, but that was impossible.
“I can see why you like this whole ‘hiding in the dark thing’,” Charade said, her suit glinting in the darkness. “Personally though, I prefer the direct approach.”
Snow Storm jumped, but the figure that stepped forward was no Bloodshot, or even a regular goon. She was rather less intimidating; as a matter of fact, she almost seemed like a long, thin twig. “So you’re the Mare do Well. I’m a big fan. Sorry though, orders are orders…”
Snow Storm reacted instantly, charging at the mare and aiming to end the fight quickly. One punch should do it, she thought to herself, sending a strong right hook straight at the pegasus’ jaw… but failing to connect as Charade ducked sideways.
“Well, you’re certainly not fast. Let’s try that again, shall we?” the mare taunted her.
Look. Listen. Anticipate. Ancient words by an even older stallion. He had taught a wide variety of martial arts in the village she’d been sent to as a filly, and she had signed right up. She couldn’t look, but she could listen. Small, almost inaudible breaths came from her right. She feinted that way, sending out a quick left hoof to catch whoever this was off guard.
The mare caught her hoof, before backing away. Didn’t even try to break it… she’s toying with me. Testing me… mocking me. We’ll see how smug she is when I wipe that dumb grin off her face!
“C’mon, Mare do Well! We both know you can do better than that,” she cackled. After a moment, Snow Storm covered her eyes as the mare turned on the lights. “You had enough handicaps already. Now show me how a real mare fights!”
“Why?” Snow Storm asked instead, backing off. Let her come to you. She wants you, she’ll have to get you. Play defense. “Who sent you? Pick Pocket? The Red Hoof? Abacus!?”
“Oh c’mon, Pick Pocket? Who even is that?” she laughed from the shadows. “And Abby is in hiding. No, it doesn’t take a genius to put together who sent me… He wants a private audience with you, y’know. You should be honoured…”
The mare tapped Snow Storm on the shoulder, delivering a surprisingly weak hit to her face. A twisted sense of relief filled the mare. All speed, no muscle. I just need to land one good hit…
“Well, you know how to take a punch,” she conceded. “Too bad you sure as Tartarus can’t land one!”
Mind games. She’s goading you. The first half of the fight is with the mind. “If Big Red wanted an audience with me, he should’ve made an appointment,” Snow Storm said.
“He felt you’d earned something a little more personal. After all the things you’ve done for him…” she grinned, charging at her again. This time, she attacked her with a flurry of blows even years of training couldn’t allow her to see or anticipate.
“You leave her alone!” came a voice from behind, and before Charade knew it there was a small beast straddling her back and gripping tightly on her long, unruly mane.
“Figaro, no!” Snow Storm shouted, picking herself up and watching the new struggle.
Charade grunted, pulling the Diamond Dog away and placing him on the floor surprisingly gently. “Letting your pet fight for you, I am so disappointed… and here I thought you were a challenge at last.”
Charade let her hair fall down, sighing. “The Red Hoof wants to see you. You can either come quietly and see what he wants, or I drag your unconscious a-” she hesitated, staring at Figaro. “Your unconscious butt over there. Either way, you’re speaking with him.”
Snow Storm lowered her head, as if in defeat, and seized her one surprise opportunity. She threw her forelegs around Charade’s neck, pulling the pegasus down onto the floor and locking her rear legs, holding her in a full submission. “You know where he is,” she said through gritted teeth in Charade’s ear, keeping her choke-hold tight. “Tell me.”
“Son of a… too tight, too tight!” she gasped, her eyes bugging out. I don’t believe she got me!
“What’s the matter?” Snow Storm asked, tightening her hold. “Not as cocky now, are you? Tell me where the Red Hoof is!”
“Stupid bitch, he wants to- ack!- s-see you!” she grimaced, struggling to breathe, “Ease up a little, you’re gonna kill me!”
Indeed, Charade seemed to be turning blue in the face. “If he wants to see me,” Snow Storm growled through gritted teeth, “then you’ll have no problem telling me where he is!”
“F-fuck you! We gotta... do this on…-argh- his terms, or he’ll kill-” she hesitated for a moment. “He’ll kill me. Now please let me go before I pass out!”
Snow Storm sighed, rolling her eyes and releasing the pegasus. “His terms aren’t good enough,” she said, offering Charade a helping hoof. Why are you giving her a hoof!? She could break it!
“If he had wanted you dead, I wouldn’t have announced my presence,” she said, taking her hoof and rising to her feet. “I’m not sure what he wants. He didn’t say… I don’t get any of this. Why not just pretend I’d captured you or something? Could save us both a lot of time.”
“Right.” Snow Storm snorted and tried to catch her breath. “Like I’m going to trust you. As soon as I let my guard down, you pounce. I’d do the exact same thing.”
“But you won’t, because aside from your cheap grapples you ain’t got shit on me and you know it,” Charade spat, panting just as much. “You wanna keep running for the rest of your life? Because if you think you can avoid him forever, you’re kidding yourself. With or without my intervention, the Red Hoof always gets his way in the end.”
“You know, you’re pretty strange for an adversary…” Snow Storm smiled - she almost wanted to like this mare. She could be just as crazy as Abacus. Maybe worse.
“Right back at you. Next time we meet you better bring your A game, girl. I know you’re holding back. Nobody that could scare the Red Hoof could be this weak…” She turned away in disgust, swatting Snow Storm with her tail. “By the way, the name's Charade. Just to be fair. See you tomorrow,” she said, saluting and darting out the front door.
As she left Snow Storm and Figaro in the kitchen alone, the pup turned to her tearfully. “I don’t get it, Alphamom… who was that?”
“I don’t think it’s safe here anymore, pup,” Snow Storm said, feeling her heart sink. I can’t just abandon this place… but she knows where I live. She’ll keep harassing me. “Howabout we go and have a sleepover with uncle Bolty?”
At this, Figaro’s ears perked up. “Really!?”
Snow Storm nodded. “You bet! Go get packed, pup.” Hopefully we won’t have to stay there long.
3
Bolt Buck had taken to sleeping with a crossbow under his pillow lately, The vision of his love dying had haunted his dreams, but he had no intention of joining her yet. He jerked awake as there was a knocking at the door, rubbing his eyes and slowly approaching with the crossbow at his side.
“Who’s there?”
“It’s me and the pup,” Snow Storm’s voice - or a good imitation of it - came from the other side of the door. “We… need a place to stay. The big guy’s gotten a little more direct about me lately.”
“Tell me his name, so I know it’s you. The name of the stallion you miss more than anyone else in the world.”
“Frost Storm, my brother and the mistake you’ve been bending over backwards to make up for.”
Bolt Buck slowly opened the door, surprised as she pulled him into a hug. “I’m… sorry for mentioning his name. Word is the Red Hoof’s started bringing in changelings to mess with people. As if things weren’t complicated enough in this city…”
“And he has a new secret weapon, apparently,” she muttered, giggling as Figaro ran straight for the soft, fluffy sofa. “I bet you wouldn’t happen to know her. Charade?”
Bolt Buck stopped in his tracks. “Whoo boy… you are in for a tough time with that mare. She used to beat on Rough, Facade and me… but beat on anyone else that tried to pick on us too. Faster than a rattlesnake in a henhouse, and twice as itching for a fight. Lemme guess- you could barely lay a scratch on her, right?”
“How’d you guess? Years of training and practicing and it was still like trying to catch greased lightning.”
Bolt Buck grabbed a bottle of scotch from the fridge, pouring her a modest shot and handing it to her, “She’s a pegasus that never learned to fly properly. She was real sore about that too… overcompensated by becoming the fastest fighter in school. Last I heard she was out in the middle of Griffon Country, picking on the locals. And winning.”
Snow Storm asked the only sensible question that came to her, though it made Bolt Buck blanche. “So how do I beat her? Just get quicker?”
“Well, she’s not like you. She gets angry, and puts everything into every attack. Think of it like a lightbulb that burns twice as bright, but only lasts half as long. Anyone else would never get to that point, but you just might manage to outlast her in an endurance match. She don’t hit that hard, but she goes for the pressure points. That could get real ugly, so be careful… word was some old assassin taught her the style she uses.”
“Wear her out. Got it.” She looked over at Bolt Buck, biting her lip. “Er… you don’t mind if we stay, do you? I might’ve forgotten to ask that…” You need to stop using your friends as tools.
For a second, she could have sworn he blushed at that, though it was only for an instant. “Sure. You two take the bed, I’ll use the couch. Try to not let the little guy pee on it though.” He grinned.
“Oh, don’t worry,” Snow Storm said, waving a hoof dismissively. “He’s housebroken… more or less.”
Buck Bolt flopped onto the couch, placing the crossbow by his side, aiming it away from the others. “Erm… right. G’night, Snow Storm.”
“Night,” she replied. “And thanks.”
4
Charade sighed, wandering into the Headless Horse. The Mare do Well had bested her, and suddenly she had to make excuses for her failure. Bitch got lucky, that’s all. If she didn’t have that little mutt blindside me... Not that the Red Hoof would have to know. She was here on her own time, damnit. She’d get the job done. He’d just have to be patient.
“Maredy Wall… what a joke,” she slurred throwing back her third glass, swaying slightly in her seat. “Best fight in Equestria my flank!”
“Oh. My. Celestia.” It was a voice she recognized - a bartender who’d always helped her out before. He sauntered up to her, smiling. “I didn’t believe it when he told me. I still don’t believe it. Look what the catbird dragged in!”
“Punch?” she squinted, staring at the barman. “Punch Drunk? I can’t believe it! Didn’t think I’d see you in a place like this… oh, no offense.”
“I work here,” he said, sniffing her glass and whistling. “Firebombs? You still drink these?”
“Why not? They’re still legal in Equestria. Seems the only *hic* strong things around here are the drinks. Even the Maredy Wall couldn’t touch me, heheh…”
“The Maredy- oh.” His face fell. “Oh not again, kid. You’re involved with the big guy again? You skipped town because of him!”
“I skipped town because there’s not one good fighter here,” she swayed on her barstool, draining the rest of her glass and slamming it onto the counter. “It was true then, and it’s true now too! And that caped bitch managed to kill Bloodshot before I even got the chance to fight him! That, n’... I wanna see how my lil’ bro’s doin’. It’s been awhile.”
He leaned his muzzle in close hers, locking eyes and muttering quietly, “Why not go to the Guard? I know a few personally and they’d-”
“No! You know they’d put me away. Side’s, they’re useless. Go down just as quickly as a thug, sometimes faster. I need to handle this myself, like I always do. I mean, what’s the worst that could happen?”
“Between you and me, kid? The worst is happening. The big guy’s been losing his mind over the Mare do Well. Sometimes I think literally. He’s getting meaner and the little guys are getting scared. We all figure he’s one tip away from just setting the whole city on fire.”
“...Then I gotta get my bro and get out before he does. I hate the smell of burning garbage.” She gave a hearty belch and swayed on her seat, flailing her hooves to keep from falling down completely.
“Come on, kid,” the stallion said, rounding the bar and helping her down off of the stool. “You’re as drunk as I’ve ever seen you, and that’s saying something. I’ll give you a free room for as long as you need.”
“Thanks, if you need anyone killed, just ask…” she slurred before falling asleep there and then, snoring loudly.