Soft Diplomacy

by Bastinator

Chapter 6: Boring Old Facts

”This location has been the largest producer of Equestrian cheese for the past eight national censuses.” Okay that’s a new one. Largest cheese producer in Equestria. Hmm… ”Would you like a hint?” Petal Peach asks from across the table.

“No no, I got this one. Let’s see I can eliminate some of the newer settlements and those that don’t participate in the consensus.”

”Yes…”

“Cheese is obviously a milk-based product so the more urban sectors such as Canterlot and Las Pegasus can be taken off.”

”Getting warmer.”

“You’re only distracting me you know.”

”You have to be used to this. Things are going to be stressful and tense where you’re going, and I want you to be prepared.”

Focus Anon, alright. “Cows need plenty of room to roam about in order to produce the highest grade of quality milk so the size…” She begins humming the theme song of Jeopardy, or at least their spin on it. She knows that gets on your nerves, but you’d never tell her to stop. That’s it! “Whoofsconsin.”

She flips over the card, “Incorrect.”

“Fine,” you groan, “What is Whoofsconsin?”

”Correct!”

Of course you’re right. You made sure to get your mandatory reading of the Equestrian Provinces by Thump West. “I really should thank you for referring me to Thump’s work. I haven’t found quite an unbiased author as him for a long time.”

”I just thought you’d need a little assistance.”

“I mean it,” you put your hand on her hoof, “You didn’t need to help me but you did. Thank you.”

Her cheeks flush as red as her mane, “Y-you’re welcome.” Why’s she so- Oh… You quickly retract your hand and apologize. ”It’s quite alright. In fact it was rather flattering. I don’t particularly have a line of stallions giving me compliments.”

“I uh, can’t see why,” you smile.

”You’re too sweet Anon. Another?” You give her a thumbs up and prepare yourself for the next question. ”This decree made by Hawksbird the-“

The door to the library bursts open by your feathery companion, “Sup dweebs.” Of course it’s Gilda. Who else still uses the word dweeb to insult people.

“Oh, hey Gilda. You were saying Ms. Peach?”

She clears her throat, “…made by Hawksbird the Fifth would hereby eliminate-“

”Boooooring!” Gilda booms through the library earning a few annoyed glances, “What is this, a retirement home?”

”Excuse me, but we’re studying,” Petal Peach sneers as politely as possible. With that skill she should be a diplomat.

”Laaame.”

”Then perhaps you have a better way to improve his skill before he leaves?”

Gilda laughs, “You kidding? You ever seen what happens to a kid who studies all the time?”

”They become Princess Celestia’s protégé.”

”Pfft, they become a closed-off shut-in with no social skills. Take a look at Anon here. Before he got out he could hardly speak.”

“I wouldn’t go that far.”

”Once I went a few rounds with him he loosened up. You don’t need to be reciting facts with him, you need to be taking him out and socializing like any other griffin.”

“Whoa now,” you don’t like the look of this, “I’m good reciting boring old facts as long-“

”Boring?” Peach looks back to you with… Oh crap. You see Anon, this is what happens when you open your mouth.

“You know I didn’t mean it like that.”

”Then how did you mean it exactly?” the irritation can only be cured with a special cream.

”Yeah Anon,” Gilda chimes in, “How DID you mean it?”

“Not you too.” Their faces are more serious than a Minotaur after a shave, “I didn’t- You both know that… Nevermind.”

”Hey Gilda, you wouldn’t happen to know a place where Anon here could get away from these Boring Old facts, would you?”

“Boring and old,” you laugh nervously, “Who ever said that? They’re the most darn interesting and uh, new things around. We don’t need to go there, do we?” Gilda nods to Petal Peach, and that gleam in her eye would make the hardiest soldier’s nuts cringe. “Do we?”

~~~

You gotta be careful with the words you say, or else Gilda will be dragging you away, much like she is now. “Okay, twenty bits!” you try and negotiate with her.

”If I wanted your lunch money I wouldn’t need to ask.” Twenty bits is a hefty sum, is she kidding? It might not buy you a chariot ride around Canterlot, but it could feed a family for week, two if they don’t like their kids too much. ”This is for your own good,” Petal calls after you, “It’ll make you learn to think before you speak.” But it was just a joke! You grab hold of a floor tile in desperation, the ceramic piece of crap chipping off like cheap plaster.

This definitely does not meet the minimum requirements of the Canterlot Foundation Act. Gilda smacks your hands when you try and grab the door and you’re soon sliding across the smooth flooring. There has to be something she wants. Something that can get you out of this. What do gryphon’s like to… Anon, you’re a son of a gun. “Gilda, listen to me…”

”You’re only wasting your breath, but go ahead.”

“I have access to the royal brewery.”

She stops dead in her tracks and glares at you, “You’re bribing me with alcohol?”

“Yes?”

Without a second to spare you’re let back on your feet and shuffled forward, “Let’s get a move on then.” Like a drunk.

~~~

The guards let you pass through and before you know it Gilda’s grabbing as many bottles as she can. ”Anon, are you an angel? Because you just brought me to heaven.” Thankfully you’re just in storage. If you let her into the actual facility she’d be latched onto the nozzle like her mother’s tit. ”They don’t happen to have Heavy Pat’s here do the- AWW! THEY DO!” She clears shelves worth of loot into a sack before you finally take a step in.

“Okay now hold your horses what do you think you’re doing?”

”I’m getting some swag if you couldn’t tell, or are you backing out of the deal?” You shake your head and grab the bag out of her talons, “HEY!”

“You’re going to break the bottles if you toss them willy nilly like that.” She squawks all manners of insults in your ear as you look over the room. There! You grab a factory cart from the corner and stack the packs of alcohol evenly. “This is why we can’t have nice things. Some people don’t respect others property.”

”Says the one stealing piles of booze.”

“Ah ah ah,” you come back, “Borrowing, not stealing.”

”Tell that to the guards. Exactly how do you expect to get this exposed monstrosity past them?”

“By going through the front door.” By the look on her face she thinks you’re off your rocker.

”I’m not taking blame for this.”

“You won’t need to, now can you lend me a hand- err, talon?” Pushing open the door you pull out the cart, Gilda pushing. Your arms strain to keep it in motion and you finally let out an exasperated gasp, wiping the growing sweat from your face.

”Excuse me sir,” one of the guards starts out.

“Ah! Just the pony I wanted to see, do you have a tarp we could borrow?”

”Sir?”

“A tarp. A protective covering waterproofed with some sort of tar or wax.”

”Yes sir I know what a tarp is, but where do you think you’re going with those?” You act clueless and raise a brow before looking back to the cart.

“Oh! You mean this?” The guard nods and you look to Gilda. “Go on, tell him.”

She shoots daggers at you before putting on a fake smile, “Oh here and there.” She should’ve taken some notes on that improv book you caught her reading.

”Ahuh… Not convinced.”

“The minotaur ambassador is taking his leave tonight and it was agreed that we leave him with a… substantial portion of spirits to quench his belly. You know how minotaurs are…”

”I wasn’t made aware of any such order.”

“Perhaps it’s a cut above your pay grade, guard.” This guy is not getting in the way of your peaceful evening. “Even should you deny me, you know who I work for. Therefore I would like to point out the Royal Requisition Articles, which in one short sentence, means that any entity of the state can requisition alcohol as well as other supplies for personal or political affairs.” You take a step closer to him until you can almost feel the warmth from his body. “The last time I checked I still work for Celestia, which makes me one such entity, does it not?”

He nods quickly and looks to his fellow guardsman, “Recruit, fetch these two a tarp on the double. I apologize sir. I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions.”

You place a hand on his neck and give a friendly pat. “Don’t worry about it. You were doing your job and a fine one at that. Perhaps I could recommend the Articles themselves to you.”

”That’d be nice sir.”

“They’re located in the Canterlot Library, eastern wing. If you’re having trouble finding it just ask for Petal Peach. She’s a real sweet heart… and single.” You think you’ve sealed the deal right there with that twinkle. Before long the recruit’s back and fastening the tarp around for you. Gilda’s still in a state of shock, but you keep calm and collected much like Celestia would. Everything you’ve learned and seen has not only opened your eyes, but also your mind. You may not be there now, but as long as you’re not on the receiving end you can BS your way through a situation. These boring old facts do have their uses after all. May not have to know that Whoofsconsin produces cheese though.

The guard salutes you as you leave and the second you’re out of sight Gilda punches you hard in the arm. “Ahh! What was that for?” you rub your soon to be bruised arm.

”Are you crazy? Do you have any idea how much trouble you almost got me in?” If things fell through that was one of the things you could count on. ”Go on, tell him.” She mimics before smacking you again, “You pull a stunt like that again and you’ll get more than a little peck.” That, you weren’t counting on.

“Okay I’m sorry-“

”I’m not finished. Next time you want to do that, at least give me the game plan. I can’t have my bro leaving me high and dry.” Alright… Wait what was that?

“Did you just call me a bro?” you pull a shit-eating grin.

”Of course not. Why would I ever call you a bro? You need to get your ears checked.” You give her a knowing look and she avoids eye contact.

“Gilli…”

”You call me Gilli again and you’ll be choking on it.”

“My little Gilli…”

”Do you like getting hit?” You’re her bro. That’s kind of cute.

~~~

You manage to reach the gate without getting hurt further and hand over control of the cart to her. “Well I held up my end of the deal. Now if you’ll excuse me…”

Gilda grabs you roughly by the collar of your shirt, “Deal? I don’t remember any deal.”

“B-but you said before-“ She asked if you were backing out of the deal. She never said anything about setting it up. That clever little minx tricked you with those little details. You’ll have to take note of that.

”If you think I’m letting you go so easy you’ve got another thing comes small-fry.” Says the gryphon who’s shorter than you. To hell with it, they’re right in the end anyways. All work and no play makes Anon a dull boy. You allow her to drag you across the city like her personal bagboy, even giving you the honor of guiding the cart by yourself. After a few minutes of hard work she guides you off into the alley of some nightclub you’ve never heard of. She excuses herself to talk to the owner who’s apparently an old friend of hers while you unload the cart. All this heavy lifting is going to get you some serious muscles by the end of it. A nerd with arms of steel, that’s something you’d like to see.

Heaving the last pack of booze off you let yourself into the darkened club. It looks about as what you’d expect, lots of tables with some booths scattered about, a dance floor in the center, a DJ set on stage, a bar for the drunks who like conversation. The underlying aroma of rave sweat is still noticeable despite the best air fresheners bits can buy. You can almost feel that primal heat as they let themselves go to the music. It’s not an entirely pleasant feeling.

And then… there’s a different feeling. You don’t know what it is, but you don’t like it. It feels wrong. You shudder and flip on the lights, a disgruntled groan almost giving you a heart attack. ”HEY!” a minotaur comes stomping through the other entrance, “What’d Iron Will say about you free loaders? You stay overnight, you pay the price!” He picks up the two squatters by the neck and shakes his head, “Iron Will’s starting to think you like washing dishes.” So that’s Iron Will. You’d heard he was ripped but not shredded; he could smash a cinderblock between those pecs of his.

”Anon!” Gilda calls from behind the bar, “You ready to get this party started?” Not really…

~~~

You hole up at one of the booths in the corner when things really start picking up. It got a tad bigger than you expected, a couple dozen bigger by the looks of it. You’re not sure if they planned this, but when it started going it really started going. The only time you’ve seen so many ponies in one place was when you first appeared out the city gates and they thought you were some kind of animal. Technically true, but you’re no cockatrice or timber wolf either. You rub your ear at the spitting toons that the DJ’s throwing out, the metallic rifts and that awful screechy sound really take it out on you.

What you wouldn’t give for some earplugs right about now. Perhaps you could submit an appeal to Celestia to require earplugs to be accessible at all nightclubs that use audio equipment upwards of… what measurement do you use for sound? Crap, you’ll need to look that up later. Still, upwards of a reasonable volume. You’re not going to be able to hear much of anything if they keep this up. You scan the room, finding Gilda breaking out on the dance floor, bottle in hand.

She keeps the momentum for a good minute before she leaps back up and chugs the rest of the bottle without spilling a drop. She’s got game, you’ll give her that. You sigh and lay your head in your arms as a makeshift pillow. This is the best peace you’re going to get it looks like.

You hear the pair of drunks before you see them. There’s no mistaking that mismatched and lazy clop of hooves. ”Ohoho lookie hir boy. Wai- wai- SHHHH…” They can’t even fucking speak normally. You nestle further in your arms hoping the drunks’ll scamper off.

”Hey,” a hoof pushes you. “Hey,” again… and again. “I- *hic* ‘s talking to ya.”

“You’ve reached the voicemail of ‘Don’t give a shit’ please leave your name and number after the tone. *beep*”

You manage to make one of them laugh, “I dun’t get it?”

“Because you’re a bumbling drunken ass.”

”What’d ya call me?” If you ignore it, it’ll g away. That worked for Gilda right? Oh… Maybe second time’s a charm, but there was that guard… How about third?

”I’m a bit interested myself. What’d you call my friend?” Why won’t anyone just piss off? Haven’t you made it abundantly clear you want to be left alone?

“Fine! For fucks sake,” you throw up your hands, “I called him a bumbling- Oh…” You didn’t know they had an Iron Will Jr. at the party.

And you just called his friend a bumbling drunken ass. Perfect. ”Let’s take a walk.”

“Care to negotiate on those terms?”

~~~

The minotaur holds you against the wall and swings his fist back, “Watcha dooin?”

”Teaching this punk a lesson in manners.”

The pony stumbles over to you and tries pushing him out of the way, “Lit me at him. I’s got a score.”

”You’re a drunken ass you know that?”

But that’s what you said! “That’s all I-“

”Shut up punk.” He lets go of your collar and takes a step back for his friend.

”Not soo tuf now ar ya?” he dances from side to side, almost falling over at that. This is too easy. Equines aren’t equipped for fighting. First they’ll charge you, giving you plenty of time to decide which way to step. Just as planned. Now he’ll swivel around and try to buck you with his hooves using his momentum… which you can sidestep and- ”SON OF A-“ his hoof chips against the brick wall leaving it nice and extra sensitive. Usually you’d feel for someone in his position, but… not now. This guy had it coming the moment he strolled up to your booth.

“Bumbling a- *oof*” Insides, trembling. Ribs, breaking. Chest, heaving. Fist in stomach, retracting. You hit the ground by your knees, one hand filling the void left by the minotaur’s fist. Minotaurs- they are equipped for fighting.

You can’t fight a fucking minotaur. They’ve got too much brute strength. ”Not so fun when the shoe’s on the other hoof huh?” He helps you up by way of gripping your face and lifting up. You try your best to kick him, but another haymaker puts an end to that. ”I despise things like you. You think you’re some hot shit aren’t you? Well guess what, in this alley you’re nothing. Not a damn thing.” He grinds his knuckles right below the ribs as he crushes your back against the wall. ”I’m your god now, and you just pissed off yo- GAH!”

He reels back, clutching his hand like a child, a small trickle of blood seeping through his fingers. You spit out the hunk of fur and chuckle painfully. “I may not be much,” you gasp, “But I know something you don’t.” It puts a smile on your face to speak these boring old words. “Whoofsconsin produces a ton of cheese.” You get to your feet, leaning against a dumpster for support. You stop him before he comes back in for another blow. “I wouldn’t do that if you want to keep smelling fresh air.”

He openly laughs at this, at least until you tell him exactly who you work for. ”You- You’re fucking with me.”

“Afraid not Mr. God.” You take another painful breath and stand up straight. “I got to think there aren’t too many minotaurs in the city, especially those with that particular streak in your fur.” He tries to cover up the dark lining of his hand, which only proves his feeble nature. For all his strength he’s powerless when it comes to fact. “Between the photo line-up and your registration papers, yeah I had to do that shit too, it won’t be hard to ID you and send you someplace nice. I heard Pablo needs a roommate.”

The minotaur clenches his fist, increasing the blood dripping off his wound. You know exactly what he’s thinking. Get rid of the source. If only he knew… “Not a good idea. Killing a political servant? You want that type of heat on you? Plus, it’s not like many other creatures have hands in this city.” Those wheels in his head turn ever so slowly, but you know he’s beginning to get it. “Best case scenario: I don’t rat you out and we go our separate ways.”

”And the worst case?” he asks with a hint of defiance.

“The salt mines near Appleloosa have a- How to put it? An infamous reputation to put it that way. You may have heard of them. A few minotuars were found there if I’m not mistaken. And they were a lot bigger than you.”

”You won’t rat me out?”

“That depends on my mood, and it ain’t getting much better right now.”

”I want your word.” This bastard beats you in an alley and wants your word? Despicable. You turn your nose up to him spitefully.

“Too bad.”

”You mother-“ he prepares to give you another hit.

“Salt mines,” you spout swiftly. His hand pauses and it’s finally setting in how limited his options for.

He kneels down and picks up his friend, slinging him over his shoulder. ”You’re going to slip up one day, and you won’t have your fancy position to fall back on.” The minotaur pats his friend with his hand and walks off, likely to a hospital if he has the brains you think he does. The second he turns the corner you fall straight on your ass and heave in agony.

Shit that was intense! You almost had your ass in the obituaries for all to see. You curl up into yourself, hoping, praying, wishing this would all just end. ”I think someone needs a drink.” You look up to a furry hand stretched down towards you and gladly take it. ”We’ve got ice inside.”

~~~

”I take it those weren’t friends of yours,” Iron Will slides a beer over to you.

“Whatever gave you that impression?” you wince as you place the ice bag underneath your shirt. You thank him for the courtesy and gladly take a drink. He’s definitely not what you expected from his reputation. Assertiveness has a tendency to be confused with being an asshole.

”Don’t mention it, or else I’ll have to give everyone the same treatment.”

“I won’t, it’s the least I can do.”

”And I take it we have you to thank for all this quality stock we’re passing around.” They certainly seem to be enjoying themselves with it. You wouldn’t be surprised if the whole thing was gone already. ”I had my doubts that the new big shot be so generous.”

You laugh at the ‘big shot’ part. You’re not there yet. Not even close. “Don’t thank me, thank Gilda.”

”Ahh, Gilda. It’s been too long since I’ve seen her around.”

“You know her?”

”I met her years ago when I toured out East. She was a lot younger then… and timid.” Timid? Gilda? Say it ain’t so.

“I figured she came into this world and immediately punched the doctor.”

He chortles at the assertion, “Not the Gilda I knew. She was… certainly something.” Upon further questioning he reveals some of his history with her and how he was brought in to help her overcome her shyness. ”…She didn’t take kindly to the lessons, but her parents paid Iron Will a nice sum to put some sense into her.” He looks over to Gilda who’s talking the ear off of some colts before punching him across the face. “I didn’t know it would make her like this.” His ears drooped at that part and you begin to understand who she is to him.

“You’re a bit old for her don’t you think?”

”Old? Don’t let this worn fur fool you; I wasn’t that much older than her when I met her.” He glances her way again, the ends of his mouth curling into a smile. It’s hard to imagine gryphons like Gilda had admirers. Shows what you know.

“Well… I’ve taken up enough of your time. I’m sure Gilda would like a dance.”

He shakes you off, “Nah I’d never go for it. She’s just… It’s funny. I make my fortune training ponies to assert themselves, yet I can’t seem to take my own lessons to heart. I don’t get it.” You know exactly what he’s going through. You’ve done it your whole life.

“When there’s something you care about, you don’t mess it up. You fear what might happen if things go wrong, but like my dad used to say: You miss 100% of the shots you don’t take.”

Iron Will raises his glass, “I can toast to that.”

You clunk glasses, Iron Will saying his goodbyes before he begins closing things up. You drink the last of your brew in the solitude of that lonely booth, thinking back to those words.

You miss that old geezer…

Comments

[HIEfan]

Can't help but Think that he is REALLY Walking on a thin line here, Celestia may not like of all the things he has or will pull in the future.

[Mustafa]

but it could feed a family for week, two if they don’t like their kids too much.

I approve of the Firefly reference.