Equinox: A Tale of Harmony from behind the Elements

by Battle Damage

Chapter 1: Steaming Piles of Indifference

It was a typical Saturday at the Shafted Quiver. The lights were obnoxiously bright, the music was loud, and everypony was having a good time. Drinks, friends, dancing- sometimes Deadeye wondered why he ever bothered with the whole secret assassin shtick and didn't just work in the club full time. This club that he owned...

"Hey, Sureshot!" shouted an all too familiar voice.

Deadeye sighed and rolled his eyes. 'What could possibly be the problem this time?' he wondered sarcastically.

"What is it this time Tibbles?" Deadeye asked, knowing full well what the problem was. It was the same thing every week with him. He would refuse to wear the club's employee uniform, throw a fit about how he used to be a proud soldier of the Equestrian Royal Guard (which was, of course, a lie) , how he was suited for better. Then he would sit at the bar, order seven different drinks, get drunk, and pass out in Deadeye's apartment upstairs.

"You know exactly what the problem is, Sureshot. I ask every week to change the uniforms, and every week you ignore me. I'm serious this time, Deadeye, if you don't get on to making the outfits less whorish, I'm going to flip my shit."

"That's what you say every week Tibbles," Deadeye said exasperatedly. "And every week it's the same answer; no. There's nothing wrong with them." Deadeye, even through his sunglasses, could see Tibble's cheeks turn red. Though he couldn't tell if he was blushing or flushing with anger.

"Deadeye, do you know how these outfits make me feel?" Tibbles asked rhetorically as he undid the ponytail. They make me feel like a two bit tramp. A street walker. A cum-dumpster. I'm talkin' prostitute Deadeye."

"The outfits attract customers, Tibbles. And the female waiters have to wear uniforms just as skimpy. Besides, you don't see Toasty complaining," Deadeye said, referring to the quirky white-maned, blue haired unicorn who worked at the club part-time.

"That's because Toasty's a homo-erotic freak!" Tibbles replied bitterly.

"Regardless, the customers like the uniforms, and what they like is what we give them because we need the money. You know Equinox hasn't been consistent with work, so we've got to rely on what our cover jobs can make us. And before you say anything, mooching off Mother Salve's kindness isn't a viable option. So the uniforms are staying and there isn't a thing you can say to change my mind."

Tibbles slammed his hooves on the bar counter. "Well what if I take one of those fancy bottles of liquor behind you, and crack it over your skull? Will that change your mind, you prancy little son of a bitch!"

"The Dim-witling would do best to not use that word in our presence." said an almost inaudible voice from Deadeye's side of the counter. Deadeye had almost forgotten Mini-Kat was there. She had been following him around for so long that she had sort of melded into the background of his life.

"And what are you going to do about it Kitty Kat? Riddle me to death?" Tibbles was trying to start something. And unfortunately, Mini-Kat was bored enough to be provoked.

"The riddles and metaphors in which we speak are our inheritance of a lost culture, Dim-witling. If you choose to mock them, then perhaps we should use them to kill you." Mini-Kat stood up and snarled at Tibbles. She was a good foot and a half taller than the stallion, and physically stronger in every which way but flight. The female Diamond Dog shaman would tear him apart given the chance. Deadeye didn't want that kind of literal bloodstain sitting on the floor of his establishment.

"Mini!" he scolded. "Behave yourself! Sit and be calm!"

Mini-Kat continued to glare and bare her teeth at Tibbles. Tibbles glared right back, waiting for her to make a move. But Mini-Kat softened her expression and relaxed her mouth, sitting back down behind the bar.

"As you wish Farseer," Mini-Kat said submissively. "Thank the Farseer, Dim-witling. He is the only reason you still stand before us. We would have torn your stomach out and force-fed it to you repeatedly until you starved to death, if not for him." She lied on the floor and closed her eyes, returning to the rest that Tibble's antagonizing had awoken her from.

Tibbles turned and glared at Deadeye.

"You just can't let me have any fun, can you?" Tibbles questioned.

"Not if it threatens my place of business."

"Fine," Tibbles grumbled. "Just get me my usual so I can forget how bored I am."

"Two Blacklists, a Crushed Larynx, and one Pandora's Tomorrow coming right up."

Deadeye turned to the fabulous wall of liquors that stood behind him, vaguely aware of Tibbles grumbling on about how he used to be a member of the Royal Guard. This wall was Deadeye's gun away from his gun. Each ale, lager, rum(spiced or otherwise), Vodka, Cabernet, Chardonnay, some imported some not- each one was his to serve; to serve to the ponies who ordered them. Each one, his to mix and shake and stir as he pleased. It was one of the few things that could have made him happy.

As he mixed Tibble's drinks, Deadeye gave the club a general scan. Everything seemed as it should be. Agonoize was at the DJ booth turning out something that sounded like talons being dragged across a blackboard while a whoopee cushion was played through a megaphone. It was almost painful to listen to, but the crowd loved it. Joker was running his gambling table in the corner, and as usual, was raking it in. All of the members of Equinox, blended in flawlessly with the crowd, some working their cover job, others just there to have a good time. Any pony who didn't know what to look for would just see them as normal ponies, like Toasty... not to say that Toasty was normal.

There were a few faces missing from the scene though. Thatch and Crisp were currently touring with the International Equestrian Harmonic Society and wouldn't be back until sometime around the Grand Galloping Gala; and TB was currently dealing with an extensive amount of demolition permit paperwork, so Deadeye wasn't too concerned with their absence. Pools, as far as he knew, was brushing up on his judicial knowledge, and NoPony... well nopony was really sure where he went in his free time. He'd shown up at the club once, but he'd just sat in a corner booth, eating pretzel rods and ordering about two gallons of water. That experience wasn't repeated.

Anyhow, essentially everypony who wasn't at the club was either working at their cover or getting drunk back at the orphanage, in the underground bar that Mother Salve pretended didn't bother her. Well everypony but two.

"Hey Sureshot," Tibbles said as Deadeye hooved him the bottled liver cancer that was Pandora's Tomorrow.

"What Tibbles?"

"Where's Stealth? He never misses a Saturday at the Quiver."

"Stealth... oh, you mean Sugarcane. He and Boomer are taking care of that sex trafficking ring we've been hearing so much about."

"Must be nice, having some actual work to do. Wish I had the chance to slap around a pimp or two."

"Yeah, but think about what what would happen if you were overpowered."

"How 'bout I don't and say I did. Man, you're such a downer, Sureshot."

"You call it being a downer," Deadeye said, giving Tibbles the rest of his liver killing drinks. "I call it being realistic."

"Well believe it or not 'realism' is actually making me miss Stormwind. Where is he, now that I think about him?"

"You know what they say; old habits die hard. Last I heard from him,he was robbing a few of the well to do residents of Canterlot blind."

"Hmph. Well, you gotta make a living somehow, I guess." Tibbles said.

"Yeah," Deadeye replied, "I guess."

The two ponies stopped talking, Tibbles was busy with his alcohol, and Deadeye having gone back to scanning the club. Agonoize had surprised the crowd with a guest DJ, and they'd gone wild for her. Deadeye wasn't sure what her real name was, but the music she put on was a bit more pleasant than Agonoize, so he didn't mind.

There was a bit of confusion over at Joker's table, involving one of his regulars, a unicorn named Kozu. Deadeye couldn't hear them from the bar, but it was probably the problem they had every weekend. Both would pull a full house consisting of three aces and two kings, and then get into an argument over where the extra two aces came from and who was cheating. The issue never escalated though, at this point it'd become more of a personal joke between the two. Some other pony didn't seem to get the joke though. A stallion, a unicorn with a bright blue mane and a shield for a cutie mark. He had stepped up to the table and seemed to be lecturing them about their poor habits, which Deadeye could tell because, Joker had that look on his face that he got whenever Mother Salve talked to him about the immorality of gambling. The stallion obviously hadn't been to this club before, and come to think of it, Deadeye had never seen him around Manehatten before. And Deadeye had seen an awful lot of ponies.

Whatever the stallion was talking about, he’d stopped lecturing the two gamblers, because Joker's face perked up with interest. Joker said something unintelligible and pointed his hoof towards Deadeye. The stallion looked over his shoulder at the bar, nodded, and presumably said 'thank you.' He turned and walked towards the bar, wading through a sea of partying ponies.

"Tibbles, take a look at this guy. We might have a job here."

"No kidding?" Tibbles questioned. He hadn't even finished his Pandora's Tomorrow yet.

"Just take a look behind you." Deadeye replied.

Tibbles craned his head to get a look at the potential client. He was currently caught in a mosh, and was nose-deep in another stallions flank. Deadeye thought it was funny, but Mini-Kat suddenly looked like she was concerned.

"What's up Mini-Kat?" Deadeye asked.

"That stallion... he smells of conformity and discipline. Even if he wasn't so offensive to our eye, his smell alone would make him known to us. It is the scent of a royal guardspony, quite out of place in this filthy mass of sweat and immorality... yes, I am perfectly aware that fun is generally immoral."

"Who was that last bit directed at, Mini?"

"Whoever you wish it to be, Farseer. Speech cannot be directed, simply spoken and interpreted. However, if you're asking whom the comment was for, it was us."

"Talking to you never gets any easier, and I seriously doubt if it ever will."

"Anything easy isn't worth doing, Farseer, Returning to our earlier topic, the guard is most certainly here on business. Though what that business is, we cannot be sure."

"Well, maybe he'll tell us himself."

The stallion managed to escape from the mosh, a little shaken up, but intact. He approached the bar counter, giving a sideways look at Mini-Kat as he sat down.

"Hello, stranger," Deadey said. "What can I get for you?"

"I'd like a drink for my lady. She's my princess, my sunshine, and I want to let her know how special I think she is."

He was a guard, all right. A few higher-ups in the Royal Guard were provided with a code to be used when briefing various members of Equinox on a mission. Various analogies were used to refer to a type of mission, the pony they would prefer to do the mission, and the pony giving the go-ahead for it. Judging from what the stallion had said, this was a big one, a job from Princess Celestia herself.

"I wouldn't recommend a drink for that, but I know a guy who might be able to help."

"Sounds great. What can he offer?"

"What do you need?"

"I was thinking a private party. You know, with catering, music, entertainment... maybe even a cake."

"I think we can manage that. It's going to cost you quite a few bits though."

"Money's no object here. Consider my payment a blank check for the moment."

"That sounds like a deal to me, guy. But hey, what's your name?" I need to know who I'm leaving the bill with."

"The name's Shining Armor."

"Strong name. Alright, Shining, your mare can expect quite the party."

"Great. I'll be expecting you three days from now. Canterlot Castle. Don't disappoint me."

"It's been three years since I disappointed anypony, Shining. You don't have to worry."

Shining Armor smiled and Deadeye smiled back as Shining Armor walked away towards the exit. And as he walked out the door, Deadeye sighed with exasperation."

"So what's up, Sureshot?" Tibbles asked. "Do we have a job or what?"

"I don't know, Tibs," Deadeye replied. "That stallion didn't seem like a newbie, but he certainly didn't know the code well. I'm not even sure what that bit about the cake was supposed to mean."

"Were you able to discern anything from he said, Farseer?" Kat asked.

"Yes. And I don't really like it. I mean sure, it could be a job, but it could be a bunch of other things."

"And what exactly is 'it,' Far-seer?"

Deadeye sighed. Nearly a year without work, and then out of the blue, news like this. A turn of events this sudden could mean a lot of good things- but it could also mean a lot of bad.

"Princess Celestia herself has called for a meeting. In Canterlot."

"Well, that's no reason to be sulking, Sureshot!" Tibbles shouted with glee. "If the princess has a job for us, then it has to be a good one. Man, we are gonna make bank on this!"

"Sorry to burst your bull," Deadeye said, not at all sorry to be bursting Tibble's bubble. "But I said meeting, not job. We've been called to a meeting in Canterlot."

"And by 'we,' Far-seer?" Mini-Kat inquired.

"I mean all of us. Everypony, and dog, and griffon. Every member of Equinox, in Equestria and out."

"Oh... that's weird," said Tibbles. "Especially when you think about the fact that she has no real authority over us!"

"No official authority true. But essentially every action by every one of our members have taken is grounds for execution five times over. The fact that she knows about all of these actions puts us in an awkward position."

"How so, Far-seer?"

"Think about it Mini. An organization that for a millenium has been upholding a state of peace in Equestria, but through what means?" It was a rhetorical question, but Tibbles didn't catch that; so he answered.

"Murder, misanthropy, grand theft, the list goes on for miles."

"That it does Tibb's; And yet, Celestia has allowed us to keep on truckin’, so to speak. Our lives are at the mercy of her opinion of our necessity. I guess I'm just worried this is some elaborate plan to get rid of us."

"Paranoia and fear are necessary parts of life, Far-seer. They are the catalysts of common sense, and prolongers of life. But in excess, they do quite the opposite. Do not allow you mind to be clouded, Far-seer, lest you lose sight of The Truth."

"Here's what I got out of that Mini. Blah, blah, fear is good, blah, blah, but don't be too afraid."

"That was our basic meaning, yes. Forgive our long-windedness, Far-seer."

"It's fine, Mini. And you're right anyway. I'm letting my fears get the better of me. Still though, whatevers going on here, it's going to be big. I mean, what reason could there possibly be for a call like this?"

This question wasn't rhetorical, but none of them could think of an answer. In any case, there were better things to do then ponder the hypotheticals that could be pulled from this unusual situation. There was work to be done. Deadeye glanced over at Joker, who’d been watching the whole situation unfold from his table. All the other participants of the poker game had left and no more seemed to be arriving, so he motioned for Joker to come to the bar. Flying over the crowd, he landed behind the counter-top.

“So what was the deal with captain obvious?” Joker questioned.

“Long story short, we've got probable work.”

“Oh. A meeting. . . great.”

“Yeah. Hey, I know it’s my night to work the bar, but your table seems pretty empty about now, so-”

“Send the message. I get what’s goin’ on here, and honestly. . . not so sure I like it.”

“Same here, Joker. Mini-Kat?”

“Yes, Far-seer?”

“Upstairs. We have a message to send.”

“We understand, Far-seer.”

Comments

[Punguinhelper]

What if the full house was 2 kings of clubs and 3 aces of spades For both of them?