//------------------------------// // Blonde and Blonder // Story: Shellstrings // by shortskirtsandexplosions //------------------------------// Manehattan – Manehattan Daily News Headquarters – Ground Floor Studio "Sociologists at the Canterlot Institute for Draconian Studies have several prevailing theories for the inexplicable appearances of these flying dragons outside of the regular Dragon Migration," Satin Cinders said, sitting at her desk and staring at the cameras. "However, all of the ideas are admittedly circumstantial at best. When interviewed via sound stone, Professor Mareiarty was quoted as saying: 'Normally, the presence of random dragons flying wayward paths across Equestria would indicate the social collapse of a matriarch or patriarch's brood. However, with the crowning of a new Dragonlord, the reality of the situation is truly unknown, but there is no indication that the dragons' presence are even remotely hostile.'" Satin Cinders smiled into the camera while shuffling her cue cards. "On behalf of Manehattan Daily News, I would like to thank Professor Mareiarty for her scientific optimism. In this day and age, we could certainly use a healthy outlook." A red light above the camera started flashing. A stage director waved his hoof up in circles. Satin took a deep breath. "And that is all for this hour of regularly scheduled program! Tune in next time as we take a closer look at Geese. State Fowl? Or Feathered Fiend?! I'm Satin Cinders, and this is Manehattan Daily News. Signing out." Silence. Eventually, the lights above the cameras went out as the signal switched to another feed. "No longer hot, everypony." The studio bustled with commotion as crew members went about in random directions, cleaning up and examining equipment. Satin Cinders adjusted her blouse, stood up, and gathered her notes. A stallion trotted over. "Textbook as ever, Ms. Cinders." He raised an eyebrow. "Although... that last bit with the sappy 'optimism' stuff?" "Yeah?" She looked up, blue eyes blinking behind a strand of blonde hair. "What about it?" "Heh... not sure the chief is gonna be a big fan..." "Look, Mike..." Satin took a swift drink from a coffee mug and exhaled. "If Bleed wants to spread doom and gloom that badly, he can bleach his mane blonde, slap on a dress, and sit here before the camera himself." "Heh... going against the flow seems to be your call in life." "If trying to keep the public happy and hopeful is what it means to 'go against the flow,' then Manehattan is worse off than I imagined." "Just don't shake things up too much," the stallion said, waving as she trotted off. "I'd hate for the Chief to replace you with someone boring and—y'know—less beautiful." "You say that as if I'm the one doing the shaking!" Satin Cinders exited the studio alone, breathing to herself. "I swear to Celestia... will he ever stop gawking at my tail hairs...?" Manehattan – Manehattan Daily News Headquarters – Fortieth Floor – Satin Cinders' Office The door unlocked... then swung open. Satin Cinders entered in reverse, balancing a stack of portfolios on her flank. She closed the door shut, fiddled with the lock, then paused to stare at a calendar hanging on the back. After a few calm breaths, she turned around and trotted towards her desk— Somepony was already seated there, reclining. "Your office smells like lavender perfume," Lightning Dust droned. "Girly as buck." "Gaaaaaieee!" Satin jumped back—portfolios flying. She instinctually thrust a hoof into her blouse pocket, pulling out a jar of mace and juggling it in mid-air before dropping it clumsily to the ground. At last, she slumped in place with a wheezing exhale. "... ... ...do all pegasi believe that having wings means a free ticket for window invasion?" "Nah. Just this one." Lightning Dust used one of her propped-up rear fetlocks to turn a framed article around. "Did you write this?" "No." Satin rolled her eyes. "A.K. Yearling did." "Cute." Lightning's amber eyes narrowed on the headline. "Crazy to think you once tried to take on the Manehattan Metro." "Yeah, well..." Satin sighed as she squatted down to pick up her dropped papers. "Chief Reads had it published in an opinion column..." She frowned. "Six sheets from the front page. But still..." She sighed again. "...I felt ever so slightly justified when the Metro's construction crews were caught burrowing through a cemetery eight months later." "Guess you shoulda made a bigger splash." "Yeah, well... I didn't have enough weight to my words." Fw-Fw-Fw-Fw-Fwooooosh! An aquamarine blur circled around Satin Cinders. In a matter of seconds, every single sheet of paper had been scooped off the floor. In the end, Lightning Dust levitated in front of the mare, cradling the neatly-stacked papers and smirking. "Or maybe you just didn't have the right partner to do the gruntwork for you." Satin blinked at her. She took the stack of papers and flipped through the first dozen or so. "... ... ..." She glared. "These are completely out of order, now." Lightning shrugged. "I said I was quick. Not efficient." "Yes, well... can you afford to be both for once?" Satin stood up and placed the papers on her desk. "Especially..." A gulp. "...tonight?" Lightning leaned against the bright windows. "Guess I'm gonna have to be." "Hmmmm?" Satin looked over. "Has something changed?" "Eh..." Lightning Dust gazed down at the distant streets of Manehattan below. "Remember that old friend I told you about?" She gulped. "The one I was hoping would lend us a hoof?" "... ... ...yeah?" "Well, turns out he's way stuffier than I had thought." Lightning Dust blew out the side of her muzzle. "Should have figured. When his parents died, it took the last snazzy spark out of him. He's practically a block of wood now—and I don't mean the good kind." Satin Cinders slowly nodded. "Well... I'm sorry to hear that." "Yeah. Tonight's gig would have been way smoother with his help." "No. I mean... I can tell that he still means a lot to you, and I'm sorry you couldn't reconnect." "Pffft... as if..." Lightning looked over with a smirk. "Buck that guy, y'know? Once a brick, always a prick. That's my motto." "How much... uhm..." Satin Cinders cleared her throat. "How much did you tell him?" "Eh... don't worry. He won't rat us out." "You sure?" "Flash is many things," Lightning Dust said, trotting back to the desk. "But he's no stool pigeon." "Even when it's a matter of stool pigeoning?" "Unless one of us is wearing a badge, he wants no part in the operation," Lightning said. "And... I-I guess there's enough of a friend left inside of him that won't do anything to crush all that I've worked to set up." "What did he tell you, exactly?" "To get the Hell out of Dodge... or else report the situation to the police." Satin Cinders sighed, shuffling through her papers. "Your friend sounds thoughtful... but not very bright." "Hah! Tell me about it." Lightning smirked... then blinked at her. "Hey... you nervous?" "What makes you s-say that?" Lightning pointed at Satin's hooves. The anchorpony's papers trembled in her grasp. Closing her eyes tight, Satin took a deep breath—then murmured: "It's been a while since I've taken anything this big on. I'm... rusty." "You don't look so brittle to me, babe," Lightning said. "You're a mare on a mission. And right now—so am I!" She smirked. "Don't you freak out or nothing. We're gonna expose these jerkoffs and tear them down a peg!" "I would hope so..." "You're... not scared of Jasper Jasmine, are you?" "No," Satin droned. "But... I'm not the only pony who has brushed cold shoulders with the fat cats of Manehattan." She nodded towards her office door. "My boss—Chief Reads—has been in the news business for a long... long time. He knows something's up. There's no way in Tartarus that he couldn't. If your so-called 'friends' in Jasmine Industries don't sniff me out tonight—there's a good chance Bleed will. We have to watch our moves carefully." Lightning hovered in mid-air, pointing at herself. "Let me be the eyes tonight. You? You just be the ears. It's what you're good at, right?" "Sure thing." Satin gulped. "You're... uh... good at being the eyes, right?" "Heh... I only nearly killed a half-dozen ponies with a wayward tornado once." Satin blinked. "... ... ...kidding!" Lightning Dust giggled raspily, then leaned in to "punch" Satin's shoulder. "You gotta learn to lighten up, girl—oshit!" Satin had fallen completely on her back from the light hit. She flailed a bit in her dress suit until Lightning reached down to hoist her back on all fours. "Cheese and crackers, babe!" Lightning Dust stammered. "You gotta cram more in your belly than rice cakes! For realsies!" "Yes, well..." Satin straightened her golden bangs, sighing. "Physical strength was never my strong suit. That's why it's a super good thing to have you watching over the whole operation tonight." "Hey. I'm faster than the wind," Lightning said. "But... not gonna lie... the real muscle? We just lost all opportunity for that an hour ago." "If you couldn't talk your friend into helping us out, then that means he's not nearly as heroic as you and I hoped." "Errr... y-yeah..." Lightning Dust fidgeted. "Sad, but true... I guess..." "In this day and age, it's up to the little ponies to move mountains." Satin sat at her desk with a sigh. "After all, today's heroes are too busy sporting tiaras." "Heh..." "It's time to prove to the public that we can expect better. We deserve better." Satin folded her forelimbs together, gazing off in thought. "And if the world's not gonna give us something awesomer to believe in... then why bother waiting?"