Making Deals
Sitting in Cyan's office, Sin looked about the numerous graphs, charts and quotes that hung about the wall while his host was out of the room to retrieve something or another.
Business numbers showing the correlation between capital and time were numerous, but the primary subject present wasn't about money, but about psychology. The correlations between weapons sales and a higher presence of sharks and other aquatic predators, a decline of acceptance for something called the "Milgram Experiment" by some psychological testing company. A loose correlation between "sex drives" and water temperature... strange things. Well, not so strange, sex sells and Value was a business pony.
A few quotes littered about the room, two that continually caught Sin's interest in particular. One that read: "An individual chooses, a slave obeys" and another "there is always a choice, even if that choice is between action and inaction, between death and bondage, there is always a choice. Only those whom refuse their own agency would deny their choice".
He found a lot of truth to those two, obviously both were a shot at the phrase "I didn't have a choice". A phrase that had always bothered him due to the psychological effect it had. To omit action, or worse submit to an aggressor's demands, based off of fear of the outcome. To justify that lack of action, or an immoral act, and declare victimhood there in.
Victimhood had become something of an alter back in the Federation, one of the many reasons Sin had left over a year ago. Victimhood was praised, becoming a kind of virtue in the eyes of the public.
As much as the Federalist may have disliked his family, Malich, Gemini, Mandylion and Sinbad himself, agreed on one solid belief: Victimhood was equated with failure. Failure in self preservation and protection, a badge of shame to show incompetence and a lack of foresight and proper planning.
To those of the cult of life worship, those whom believed that respect was a right; victimhood was an alter, an alter that sucked in compassion and pity like a sponge in water, and believing such pity would somehow bring with it respect.
"Respect the victim"...
It was an odd paradox, even for the dictionary definitions one and two. The first definition of respect was to give admiration and favor due to accomplishment and competence, not really something victims were known for. The second definition was to "treat someone like a sentient being". Problem there was that, while question and advice were meant in the interest of ascertaining the truth and preventing farther instances of prey, any form of non-affirmation towards the victim was deemed "disrespectful". To ask what preventative measures were taken to mitigate becoming one was deemed heartless and cruel, based on the misguided notion that the world should be without victims, and that criminals should just "not commit crimes".
Fuck, there was one slogan he would never forget over just how absolutely retarded it was: "Teach males not to rape".
What did that even mean? What? Did a rapist see the news paper after a night out and think to himself: 'Oh, wait... rape is a bad thing? Well, golly gee wilikers, I'm glad they set me straight.'
Of course, when this argument came up, it was quickly deflected to the muddled issue of drunken sex and issues of consent. Leaving the entire argument of aggravated and aggressive rape, the act most everybody imagined when the word "rape" was used, cast to the wayside.
It wouldn't have been so bad if so many hadn't bought into it. Entire organizations had sloganized the concept, making such an absurd notion a point of social dogma to be jammed down the throats of the citizenry, and publicly shame and condemn any whom dared to call out the lunacy for what it was.
Sin had long given up in any capacity of hope for them. They valued weakness and incompetence, calling it "vulnerability" and "truth".
"The strong must protect the weak" they say, even at the expense of the strong. To demand purpose or reason for this expended energy, or even consider rejecting it at all, is akin to the worst blaspheme... Selfishness, they called it.
So long as one didn't need what they had, such a thing should be given up for the "greater good", damn the effort and energy the individual may have gone through to get it. Or better, the bodily harm or pain that may come to them as a result of the loss.
Sin's mind went back to the argument he'd had with his Grandfather back in Canterlot, about seeking the aid of Celestia for when the crash finally came. Granted, Equestrians weren't all that strong in the militaristic sense, but they had an amazing economy and socio-political hegemony.
Why should Equestria be asked to get involved? The Federation was primarily isolationist, no trade deals, no mutual interests, nothing to be gained by the homeland for its aid... Yet how many of the Equestrians would suffer? And for what? A bunch of ingrates who'd just as soon tell them to fuck off and only use them for the resources to maintain their lives before returning to their complacent and accepting lives, holding a small sense of pride in survival yet falling back to the very complacency that had ruined their world before?
No, no that's all it would be. A bunch of victims thinking their being victimized by the big bad corporations and government, casting their own agency in the affair to the wayside and seeing themselves as helpless little by standards. Meanwhile demanding that everybody and everything else look after their needs and avert their suffering for them.
Selfishness of the worst sort, believing themselves selfless
But Bliss wasn't like that... While walking about, even this late, most every single individual down in Bliss held some form of self defense. Everyone walked with confidence and reasonable safety because they knew they were safe. None had that sickening sense of entitlement or victimhood about them, they all knew that respect and a place was earned in life. That "feelings" didn't determine rights, but action and the willingness to act did.
"There we are." Cyan said, pushing the door to his office open and wondering in with a box on his back. He walked passed Sin and placed the item on his desk before taking his seat proper and offering the stallion a smile. "Sorry about that, anyway, let's discuss a trade."
"A trade?" Sin asked.
Value nodded and opened the wooden box he'd brought in, revealing a plethora of bolts the likes of which Sin had never seen before. One bundle was a set of normal bolt arrows, a strong looking type, but nothing all that special.
Though the other two bundles were a great deal more odd and interesting. On the second bundle, the first half of the shaft was glass with some kind of glowing red solution inside, not a lot, but still quite a bit. The third really puzzled him, the shaft was entirely bronze with a small claw hook protruding from the top that looked like it was meant to catch something... what was he looking at?
Value explained what each bundle was, apparently the first bundle were regular steel tipped bolts, nothing too special other than reinforced shafts for longevity of the projectile.
"Now these are very exciting. These are called Incendiary Bolts." he declared, picking on up in his magic. "This liquid is a compressed hydrogen compound mixed with oil extract that will ignite upon impact, creating a nice little explosion and using the force of that explosion to send the burning liquid nitrogen flying around, covering anything within the target area with fire hot enough to reduce almost anything to a crisp in a matter of seconds." He smiled genuinely before placing it back into the box, "not something you want to use close quarters, obviously."
Sin was a little disturbed by that, but it was interesting to know the technology for such a weapon existed.
"These are my own little creation." Value declared, picking up the last bolt type. "I call this the Trap Bolt."
With no warning what so ever, he launched the small arrow up and slammed it into the wall of the office. A moment later, the small claw in the shaft jutted out with surprising force, carrying with it a thin line of wire as it latched onto the side wall, small archs of electricity coursing over the wire. It wasn't hard to deduce what the effects of touching the wire would be.
"Is it lethal?" Sin asked, looking at the wire in muted awe.
Mr. Cyan shrugged. "Depends. To the healthy and well sized? Not very lethal if they only touch it for a short time. Now, if they run into it and the wire gets wrapped around, say, a leg? There's very little chance their heart could withstand prolonged exposure to sixteen volts carrying a full ampere behind it." The calm and casualness of his voice while discussing what was, for all intents and purposes, a very painful death, was a mix between disturbing and slightly refreshing in bluntness and honesty.
"Not something I'd let Scootaloo get near, though." He joked, the wire letting off a few more electrical arcs before looking at Sin expectantly. Here came the price.
"This entire box will be yours if you'll do me a service." He said.
Sin furrowed his brow and contemplated the offer. He was running dangerously low on ammunition for his Ragnerock, and the trap bolts could be extremely useful in making escapes or traps... if the incendiary bolts didn't burn his enemies to ashes first, but that was much less humane than what he was accustomed to.
But, he hadn't handled Hurricane in the most humane way either, so why spare Puddinghead?
"What service?" The Federalist asked. There was nothing to debate on a moral level, Puddinghead, along with now Clover the Clever and Private Panzy were going to die. He was going to kill them, why not have a more efficient way to do it?
Cyan leaned back in his chair with a knowing smirk. "Well, first of all, lessons on how to use the incendiary and trap bolts. Have to make sure you're safe and knowledgeable of the weapons of course." He reached for one of the steal tipped bolts and lazily chucked it at the wire, upon contact, as slight as it was, the claw released from the wall and with the force of the retraction, quickly coil around the steel tipped projectile, sparks of electricity fuming and smoking as the trap attempted to full fill it's function on the lifeless piece of metal.
Sin couldn't help but smirk at the prudent efficiency of the weapon. "Of course."
"And second," Cyan said, his smile vanishing completely. "I wish for you to teach me the Eyes of the Predator."
The aura? Why did he want to know about that?
When questioned, Value, casually as always, explained that he'd experienced the psychological weapon while in talks with Gemini Islander in trying to set up some trade deals. To a business pony like him, Mr. Cyan saw some great potential in it's usage in the same way the Federalist had used it.
"It's always the little things, you know. Closing deals, the small bits of confidence and a minor touch of intimidation." The light blue unicorn said. "Psychology and philosophy, ponies consider these things too complicated or too irrelevant to pursue, yet it's what drives all of us. To understand psychology is to understand the minds of others, to know how to get what you want from them, or to understand what they want from you and what is willing to be traded or influenced. I don't think I need to explain why something like that would be an asset to future business ventures for me."
Sin's eyes narrowed upon the pony. The aura was meant to be used to deescalate violent situations, to assert dominance in a potential conflict from the one using it to avoid physical confrontation and bodily damage. It wasn't physical aggression, but it was the epitome of psychological aggression. Still though, Value hadn't given him any indication that he was an untrustworthy sort, if anything he'd been an exemplary individual. One of the few whom might be worth teaching the technique to... but to use it for business ventures? That just didn't sit right with him.
'I say don't.' Critic chimed in. 'He's not using it for what it's supposed to be used for.'
And neither have I.
'No, well, ummm...'
I've been hypocritical enough, to deny him the power for the potential for misuse, while I have misused it isn't really fair, is it?
'Two wrongs do not make a right, Sin.'
As true as that may be, Critic, those bolts would be insurmountably useful. The Trotski are onto my tricks... the Nightmare, the aura, trick shooting, magical immunity, I'm out of cards to play to throw them off. These new bolts might just be what I need to tip the scales in my favor. Luck's gotten me by this far, but I don't think I can rely on it anymore.
That's when a fact hit the stallion, the fact he'd never demonstrated the aura to Value before.
"What makes you think I know anything about it?" Sin asked skeptically.
Cyan's smile turned a little more menacing as he looked the stallion up and down.
"Oak brown coat, dark brown mane, dead blue eyes, a crossbow being the favored weapon of choice and a love for liberty..." He paused, his eyes locking onto Sin's with intense scrutiny. "And I suspect that if you were to remove your cloak, there would be no cutie mark present, would there, Sinbad Von Islander?"
Muscles tensing, Sin's mind went into a frenzy of thought. His eyes watching Cyan's body for even the slightest jut of undue motion, ready to pounce and subdue the stallion, and if need be, permanently silence him.
'Fuck.'
As quickly as the thoughts came, the logical side of Sin's brain kicked in and he relaxed himself. These were peaceful talks, and if he was being trapped, that would have been the perfect one liner to send in the Triple M. mercenaries. Yet here he was; unmolested.
He should have known, he should have known Value was too smart not to have figured it out... well, no help for it now.
"They change?" Value whispered, awestruck at the new serpentine retinas peering into him. "I was not aware that they did that."
Noticing the lights in the office had become a little bit brighter, Sin shook the unintentionally triggered aura and the Nightmare's eyes away, happy to have stopped it before the head ache sat in. He really needed to figure out a way to disassociate the two at some point.
"It's... an advanced version." Sin lied, not wanting to answer the coming question about it. "Only comes through experience."
Value nodded in infatuation, trying to suppress some small shivers that took his body. Though, if the shivers were out of fear or anticipation of the aura, Sin was not sure.
"How?"
If he wanted to learn, it could not be here, so Sin asked Value to lead him to the underwater forest. Nature magics could only be broken into through being in nature...
"Hello Scootaloo." Luna greeted, happy enough to finally be able to commune with the filly once again. "We hope you have thought on what we have said during our last visit."
Scootaloo still reluctant towards the night princess, but much less so, nodded her head as the two stood in the dream scape of her mind. "I guess..." she answered unassuredly.
"You seem uncertain."
Scootaloo nodded, explaining that she had an inclination to return but with heavy reservations.
"Then why have you not? And where are you?" Luna looked about, as if seeing passed the dream and into her memories. "We had much difficulty following you here, we are expending much more concentration and magic to maintain than we should be."
Which was true, the Nightmare had made keeping tabs on the trio a difficult matter, and impossible to interact with them. She wasn't with Scootaloo or Krystal now, but there was another interference, something that Luna had never encountered before. Sombra and Soarin had lost all of them upon entering some sort of light house off Horse Shoe bay.
The Alicorn's attention wasn't to be held on the interference, however. Scootaloo's reluctance wasn't about foal services as it was, but now locked onto the guilt of her abandonment of her family and friends.
"How can I show my face there?" Scootaloo asked quietly. "I... I just ran off. I didn't give Macintosh a chance to explain, or Annabelle a chance to help... Even Islander's mad at me..."
Luna restrained herself from using that to push Scootaloo to return home all the more quickly. She was happy that her plan there had worked out, but now there was a new issue to deal with. Luckily, guilt was an emotion the lunar princess was familiar with. Gently, she prodded that her family and friends would be relieved at her return, that any and all anger would be removed with blame. She was just a small foal after all, a foal in a bad situation? How could anypony blame her?
"No." Scootaloo shook her head. "It was my fault, though. Just because I'm a filly doesn't mean I can't accept responsibility."
Tilting her head, Luna gave the pegasus a puzzled stare. "What ever do you mean? It was a terrifying situation, Scootaloo, how could you expect yourself to remain calm and rational in a moment when you thought you'd be taken away?"
To this, Scootaloo answered in a manner the night princess hadn't forseen.
"Bad things happen all the time, not terrible like that, but bad things do happen. Instead of standing and fighting the bad thing that happened to me, I ran away..." Scootaloo sniffled. "I ran away and... and Macintosh might have gotten hurt because of it."
The filly lifted her head and glared with fierce determination. "Macintosh may have gotten hurt because I was scared. That's not right, he did everything he could to protect me, and now he's hurting because of it..."
Luna opened her mouth to reply but no suitable words stood out in her mind. She knew all to well how it felt to inflict undue pain on a loved one.
"He's okay, isn't he?" Scootaloo asked after a moment of silence? "He and Annabelle?"
Thankful for the change in topic, Luna nodded. "Yes, Scootaloo, they are both alive and well. Though, I do think they'd be much happier if you would return to them."
Scootaloo agreed, but she would return in her own time.
"Starting off, we'll go over the basics of nature magic." Sin stated as he lead Cyan through the small forest. To call it surreal was an understatement. It smelled right, but it didn't feel right. Sin could feel a slight, bleak resemblance to the feeling of nature. The feeling that needed to be embraced and internalized in order for any sort of nature magic to be realized.
"Such as?" Cyan asked.
"The eyes of the predator or the aura as I like to call it, is exactly as the name implies. It's the feeling you get when facing down a predator, the intimidation, the sense of impending doom. It only affects those whom hold the instinct of fear and can only be exuded from those whom command dominance." Sin gave the pony a smirk. "You've already got the dominance part down, though."
Cyan returned the smirk. "Trying to butter me up?"
"More like recognizing a strength." Sin clarified. "Sorry to say, this place might not be sufficient in order to tap into the magic of nature. There's no animals, the trees are too uniformed, the instinct to prowl isn't pronounced... I can barely feel it at all."
Cyan frowned and asked if the two would be better served to venture out of Bliss for a more suitable location.
Sin wasn't about to say no without testing it first. Triple M. had a specific "ritualistic" training ground to gain the aura. Technically, it took weeks and weeks of severe conditioning in a way that many in his homeland would consider "barbaric". Nature magic couldn't be found in the metroplitine and advanced, it did not come through comfort and convenience.
Nature magic came through percervierence and survival, a rite of passage through defeating nature in all of her brutal, honest horror and cruel indifference.
It came through a strong will to live and fight, to never submit; even when nothing but the rejection of death was the only aim. It was a thin line, the precipice of hopelessness; the mental state where one walks the emotional razor wire of losing all hope of survival, and demanding the impossible of their bodies and minds to do whatever was needed to ensure they saw tomorrow.
Only through facing the wilds and proving one's self capable and worthy of living, were betrothed the gift of nature magic, so long as they knew what it was.
But that was merely how one discovered nature magic, utilizing it was another matter entirely.
Sin only knew of a few nature magic... "spells". Occlumency and the eyes of the predator being two of them.
The aura was the more difficult to acquire of the two for one specific reason. To gain the ability, one had to destroy any and all subconscious reservations against committing violent acts.
Many liked to think that committing acts of violence was easy, like empathy was some kind of switch in the mind that could be clicked off at any given time. Like the lessons and social engineering away from violence at every conceivable turn in the given youth could be undone without the need of a traumatic event of some kind.
No, there was a huge difference between unintentionally going too far in a fight, and intentional, calculated violence. Ponies, being primarily herbivorous, were especially hard pressed to push into it. Lessons taught from birth needed to be unlearned, sayings like "violence is never the answer" needed to torn up, spit on, and stomped out like the garbage they were. While violence wasn't always the answer, and should never be a first resort, only a pacifistic fool would dare to remove it from the table completely. It was a painful process for many, even those whom had successfully survived the trials to tap into nature magic.
The aura was a minor mix of anger and command on it's emotional side, using the mind's focus and stress to harness a slight, unspecific feeling in the brain that was amplified and exploited through the eyes, or eye, of the caster. It required the destruction of an innocence and naivite that many found essential to what made a pony a pony, but all things came with a price.
Occlumency, technically, was a form of nature magic. It was the opposite of the aura, to refuse the influence of intimidation and infiltration of the mind. To remain hard and grounded, not to be dominant and assertive, but to be calm and steadfast. To refuse to submit and be dominated.
The eyes of the predator required the opposite, in the extreme. The willingness to maim and maul, the willingness to inflict honest pain, the desire to inflict pain... the desire to kill.
Not kill and inflict pain with reckless abandon, bare in mind, but a restrained desire that bordered almost on sadism or just a step before it.
Sin was pleased to see Cyan observing and listening without casting judgement, his mind objectively analyzing the explanation without considering the morality of the concepts. He asked what Occlumency was, with Sin giving him a brief and simplified explanation of how it resists mental infiltration and things like mind control.
"Really?" The unicorn balked slack jawed. He closed his mouth and looked thoughtful for a moment. "Alright, now that is interesting. Though, I have to ask: that necklace is a dragon scale, is it not? An item that negates all magical properties? How is it that you can wear it but still use magic? If I'm understanding this properly, shouldn't it stop you from using the eye?"
Looking down at the necklace for a moment, Sin answered in the only way he could... with a shrug.
Truth be told, he had no idea why the dragon scale didn't stop his own use of, what was technically, a form of magic.
Pegasi had no right to fly, none what so ever. Their wing spans, in proportion to their body and mass, were no where near big enough to justify them being off of the ground for any length of time. Yet all -well, almost all- were all able to flutter about to and fro as they pleased with insulting ease.
This had befuddled biologists and those whom studied aerodynamics for hundreds of years. Birds, most of which were smaller than any given pegasus, had gigantic wings by comparison. The birds needed them larger to support the weight of themselves, most of which couldn't maintain flight with a smaller span. Yet a larger creature that weighed more and had smaller wings could soar along side them, and also be faster and more agile?
How was such a thing possible? The same question was asked with the intrinsic connection earth ponies had to the ground. To farming and cultivating life.
The primary theory was nature magic, discovered a few decades ago when Spar Hawk had agreed to some observation trials by the Federal Institute of Magical Inquiry. Sin couldn't recall exactly how it all worked, but between his nature magic and the fact both Rainbow Dash and Krystal had carried him while he was wearing the dragon scale, he could only conclude that there was a difference between the to schools of arcane.
The concept intrigued Cyan and he'd made some mental notes to look into the concept later on.
"Right, now that I've got a feel for it, this most likely wont be adequate." Sin admitted, taking in the, now much smaller and more open wood work. "We would need to head into a proper forest, where your will to survive and live would be tested. My apologize, Mr. Cyan."
The unicorn hummed in thought, considering the Federalists words. "So, the perimeters are to venture out into the wilderness, get almost to the point of hopelessness, struggle to survive and then just force myself to live?"
Sin pressed his lips. "Kind of. All that will need to happen, but on the precipice of hopelessness, when you're feeling like there's no hope, you'll discover a new feeling you've never had before... It's hard to explain in words, and more word savvy individuals than myself have tried, but I'm afraid it's just that. A feeling. I can tell you that it'll feel cold, like you're too tired to go to sleep, or too hungry to eat. Paradoxical, terrifyingly so. But once you've got it, hold onto it."
"Hold onto it?" Value asked.
"When you've experienced the feeling, you'll immediately want to push passed it, the discomfort and sense of dread will send your mind into a crippling panic. Don't let it. Wrangle that feeling, make it yours, tame it to call on your terms. Umm... Control it and don't let it control you, is the best way I can put it, I guess. Once you have the feeling tamed, access to nature magic will be yours."
Watching the desperate attempt to wrap his mind around the concept, Sin offered to escort Cyan out into the woods and give him some pointers on woodland survival.
"No." The unicorn said quietly. "If I'm understanding you correctly, it'll need to be me and me alone to do this. To tap into this 'nature magic', magic, I'll need to fail in survival until I reach that catalyst."
Catalyst, that was a good word for it.
"And besides." Value said with a smile. "This sounds like fun. Been a while since I've had a good challenge like this, my associates will think I've gone mad, though."
"Yea, about that... don't tell them, any of them." Sin cautioned.
The unicorn didn't need it explained, as expected he understood the Federalist's reservations.
"On that note, Mr. Islander, I'd say it's about time I got some shut eye." The unicorn said with a yawn. He lead the two back to the main reception dome, finding most of the domes about to be either with dim lighting or no lighting at all. It was such an odd sight to behold, but then again, who'd ever heard of an underwater city before?
The two parted ways with a good night between them and a promise to meet again tomorrow to go over the new bolts, and Sin made way back through the walkways to the dome his companions were staying in.
'I hope you're right about this.' Critic said in a tone of foreboding. 'He may seem alright, but you know what they say about power.'
Sin was relatively sure Value wouldn't abuse nature magic, minus some small reservations, he didn't feel too worried about it.
'And if he does, it's your responsibility. And don't give me any of that "it's his choice" crap, because it was you who taught him how to use it.'
Well Critic, I don't happen to see it that way. Mr. Cyan is his own pony and a reasonable one at that, from what I've seen. If he does use the aura for naufarious purposes, how is that my fault? That's like blaming the cross bow seller for an individual being shot.
'That because the seller IS responsible for the shooter getting the weapon in the first place. Besides, this isn't a free market concept where he could just go to someone else and learn nature magic, it was hidden away by the centaur for a reason. Also, he blatantly told you that he was going to use it for financial gain purposes, not to detour violence.'
Sin entered the last walkway and made a thoughtful sound.
Fact of the matter was that Sin wasn't opperating off of pure ignorance or even plausable deniability. Mr. Cyan did say that he'd use it to help close deals. That was a kind of form of psychological terrorism to those whom didn't understand the aura. It would be kinda like selling a crossbow to a pony after he'd said he was going to shoot someone with it. Maybe not the most moral of reasons to have it, but it... wasn't technically aggression on his part, he was just the supplier.
'Yea, so that does leave you slightly responsible.'
Ehhhhh, I suppose it does, but I-
Sin froze, breath caught in his throat before snapping his head right.
He saw something, something in the reflection of the glass. It looked like... no, no it couldn't have been.
'You alright?' Critic asked.
Sin's eyes trailed up and down the walkway for any signs of life, only to find himself alone in the glass corridor before they were locked onto the reflective glass once again, at the area where he'd seen the phantom reflection. A maroon phantom, sitting in the glass, looking directly at him for all of a split second.
Yea... yea just tired I guess.