Season 1, Episode 5: A Wind Of War
EMPIRE
Season 1, Episode 5: A Wind Of War
A moment of astonished silence passed between Bills and his band of bumbling ponies as shock mingled with terror on their faces. “I beg your pardon, My Liege?” His voice shook. “What do you mean, fired?”
Orion smiled in response. “How should I put this in a way that you impertinent blokes would understand? You lot are being let go, dismissed, sacked, given the boot, parting ways, offered a chance to pursue other career opportunities. Pick the one you find most appealing. I could go on all day, Mister Bills, but time is a precious commodity I cannot afford to squander,” he said with a sinister delicacy.
“Now, now, Lord Abrasax, let’s not be rash. My associates and I have been part of Abrasax Industries for a very long time.” Mister Bills put on a nervous smile. “We wouldn’t want to do anything your father—”
“If there is one thing I hate more than anything, Mister Bills.” There was something feral behind Orion’s eyes, something vicious and cold. “Is a rotten lily-livered coward who chooses to invoke my late father’s name in front of me to save his own wretched hide. Allow me to be absolutely clear. My father can’t save you. Not from me.”
The Doctor swallowed hard as he sought to loosen the now-stifling knot on his tie. Fancy, however, followed the unfurling events with an eager smile.
Bills, his face purpling, took a furious step forward. “Now you listen here, you grey-nosed little shit. I’ve held my tongue before, but I will tolerate your insolence no longer. I’ve been part of this company while you were still soiling your diapers, and I’m—”
“No.” Orion raised his finger, silencing the stallion once again. “You listen, the lot of you.” He circled the group of stallions like a ravenous wolf savoring his meal to come. As the curtains came down, the stallions were now forced to wear their true faces, and though some appeared remorseful, others were less than pleased. “Abrasax Industries’ overall profits have declined, by a total of fifteen percent in the past year alone. Five percent of which, you whorsesons stole, I ignored. In fact, I anticipated it considering how grotesquely clichéd you gentlecolts are—”
“Now see here—” Bills interjected, but was cut off yet again.
“—and the fact that you.” Orion reached into his suit pocket and pulled out a handful of monochrome photographs. He then tossed it in the old stallion’s now bewildered face. “Mister Bills, are a rat to the competition is also relatively tolerable.”
The Doctor took a moment to gaze at one photo in particular which settled down on the floor in front of him. It was a photograph of the old stallion in the midst of exchanging an envelope with griffin in the confines of a small Canterlot alley.
“Listen to me, you—”
“But what I will not tolerate are your continuous efforts to damage this company!” Orion’s voice boomed across the loft. “And I refuse to see my father’s...” He raised his finger once again. “Nay, my company, fall to ruin because of expired, worthless, thieving degenerates like you!”
Orion bent forward, putting himself at Bill’s eyelevel as the stallion gave the young Lord the most hateful glare he’d ever see on a living being. “I don’t know why my father decided to keep you fossils around, but you gentlecolts have clearly overstayed your welcome. Now, clean out your offices, then get the Hell out of my building.”
“This is an outrage!” Bills stomped his hoof against the marble floor. “I’ve given too much to this company, and I will not be ousted by some low-born, Transcended piece of filth.” Darkened veins webbed across his maddened eyes as if threatening to burst. “I won’t have it. You hear me, boy? I won’t have it!”
“Filth?” Orion feigned a gasp, stepping back. “Oh, you should have stopped with ‘little shit’. Believe it or not, Mister Bills, this is an executive decision, and not a personal one.” Orion stepped away from the group of stallions and returned to Lord Fancy’s side. “Because personally, and pardon my Prench, I would love nothing more than to have you strung up by your bollocks and flogged with a metal scourge. Such is Equestrian law for insulting an Entitled. Fortunately for you, I promised Clarence that I would be on my best behavior. Now, for the last time, sod off before I change my mind.”
“Lord Platinum!” Bills addressed the alabaster stallion. “Will you simply stand there and allow this blatant injustice to take place?”
“As much it would please me to aid you and your associates, Mister Bills—” Fancy wore a bemused grin. “—unfortunately, this alabastard, as you had so graciously referred to me as such over the years, no longer has the power or the authority. You answer to the true Lord of House Abrasax now, and I believed he just told you lot to sod off.”
Bills pulled a haggard breath. “This isn’t over,” he declared as he turned around and headed for the elevator, followed closely by his group of ponies. “This isn’t over, not by a long shot!”
“By the way, Mister Bills, feel free to voice your grievances with Pony Resources on your way out. I'll be sure to let them know you're coming.” Orion called after the disgruntled group as the elevator doors closed behind them.
“Well,” the Doctor said suddenly. “That happened.”
A laugh came from Fancy like a newly sprung leak, timid at first, then erupting into full blown laughter. Orion’s mouth twitched upwards, and before long, he too was laughing.
“Poetry. Absolute poetry.” Fancy wiped a tear from the corner of his eye. “It’s been a long time coming, but by Celestia, it was worth every minute.”
“As President of Abrasax Industries, I am happy to be of service, Lord Platinum.” Orion exaggerated a bow. “That being said, I’m thoroughly surprised you hadn’t done it yourself.”
Fancy chuckled and nudged the young Lord in the thigh. “And relieve you of the satisfaction? I think not, Old Sport. It’s just not done.” The smile soon faded from the stallion’s face. “And besides, Bills was once a dear friend of mine… and your father’s.”
Orion eyes clouded over. “Define friends, Uncle Fancy.”
“Bills wasn’t always the stallion he is today.” Fancy shook his head. “There was once a time where even he believed that there was more to this world than mere profits and policies. Unfortunately, coin has a funny way perverting even the most pious of ponies. In time, wealth became his obsession, and friendship became his commodity. Breaks my heart.”
“I suppose it’s true what they say. There are no friends amongst Entitled, only those yet to put a knife in our backs,” said Orion with a sly grin. “Hence the reason we keep our enemies closest to us, isn’t that right, Uncle Fancy?”
The stallion’s muzzle curled upwards with a grin to match. “Taking Sol’s words to heart, I see. By Celestia, you truly are your father’s colt. In more ways than one.”
“As I am constantly reminded, not that I mind.”
Fancy’s horn lit ablaze with a magical aura and straightened his purple bow tie. “Now with all that refuse in its proper place, I believe there’s a comforting glass of liquid gold downstairs with my name on it.” As he headed for the elevator, he paused and looked over his shoulder. “Care to join me, Doctor?”
“Me… join you?” The Doctor looked at the stallion in surprise. “But… I can’t possibly… I mean, you’re an Entitled, and I’m just a…”
“Oh, come now, Doctor. As I said, there are no formalities between friends.” Fancy gestured with a wave of his hoof. “In fact, I insist.”
“Go on, Doctor. I promise your head will remain attached to your body upon leaving this vicinity. I give you my word,” Orion said with a chuckle. “I’ll be along shortly myself.”
“In that case, I’d be honored. Lead the way Lord Plat— I mean, Fancy.” The Doctor graced the alabaster unicorn with a smile and followed him to the elevator.
“The gathering’s next Tuesday, by the way. Everypony will be there, so try not to be late this time.” Orion tilted his head and arched an eyebrow at the two stallions as they entered the elevator. “You know how cranky brother mine gets when he’s kept waiting.”
Fancy responded with a light simper. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world, Old Sport.” He tapped on the elevator’s clear glass panel and selected a floor. “And tell brother yours that he should behave himself, if he knows what’s good for him.” The elevator doors slid to a close.
Orion heard hoofsteps as Coco returned to the office, balancing both a saucer and teacup upon a wooden tray on her head. There was something about earth ponies the young Lord had always found fascinating. For even without the gift of magic or dexterous appendages, they make up for their various shortcomings in a variety of numerous, not to mention and creative methods. Add Machina into the mix and they stand on equal par with even the most scholarly of unicorns and swiftest of pegasi.
“I’m so sorry it took so long, Lord Abrasax. I got a little lost on my way to the pantry,” she said with a sheepish yet apologetic smile. “I have your tea.”
“Splendid!” Orion took it in his hands and lifted the cup to his lips. “And you are excused, Miss Pommel. I remembered the first time Papa brought me up here, I got lost worse than a—” He took a sip, and reeled his head back in surprise. It was delicious, rich and satisfying with a buttery aftertaste. “By the Old Gods, what is this?”
Coco’s ears splayed backwards. “It’s one of my grandmother’s tisanes. She makes it all the time when I visit her in Baltimare. I found the ingredients I needed in the pantry, and so I thought… well…” She bit her bottom lip. “Do… do you hate it?”
“Hate it? Pfft. Surely you jest, Miss Pommel, because this tea is simply divine!” Orion mouth twitched into a smile. “I’m so putting you on tea duty from here on out.”
Coco blushed. “I’m flattered, Lord Abrasax.” She chuckled and rubbed her hoof. “Well, Lord Platinum gave me a whole list of things to look into, but if there’s anything else you need, feel free to let me know.”
“Thank you, Miss Pommel, I have a feeling we’re going to get along just swimmingly.” Orion took another sip of his tea and chapped his lips. “And that’s alright, I believe I’m quite content at the moment.”
“By the way, I took the liberty of preparing a list of questions and answers for your pre-lunch cocktail.” Coco reached into her saddle bag and removed several documents with her teeth. “There’s still plenty of time for you to—”
“You know…” Orion’s smile took a crooked turn. “Come to think of it, I believe there is something you can do for me.” There was mischief reflected in the subtle glow of his violet eyes. “Something that I’ve been simply aching to do for a very, very long time.”
Coco swallowed hard. “Please be gentle with me, Lord Abrasax.”
The conference hall was crowded to the brim. All the tables and bar stools were taken up by reporters, executives and a few distinctive faces from the House of Lords, though their names were beyond the Doctor’s current ability to recall. Ponies talked over one another, some deep in conversation, and others firm on debates. The smell of clove cigarettes and liquor was overwhelming.
The Doctor shuffled awkwardly in his crystal bar seat, or as he would like to call it, an overpriced torture device. It was both agonizing and cramped up his flanks. He would give anything to return to old Delilah, his trusty leather arm chair, sipping on his caramel latte in the comforts of his own office. The Doctor’s chest heaved with a heavy sigh as he lifted his wine glass and took a sip. He closed his eyes in absolute bliss, losing himself in its exquisite taste. It would seem Abrasax Industries spared no expense in the inauguration of their newly appointed President, considering how the wine in question would have easily cost him a month's wages.
“Truly is one of a kind, isn’t it?”
The Doctor eyes snapped open, his attention now on Fancy pants. “I concur. I must confess that it’s always been a dream of mine to try a glass of Chateau Margaux for myself.”
“It seems that you know your wines, Doctor.”
“Hardly, I can’t say I’m much of a connoisseur, Lord Fancy, but it does have a rather curious aftertaste.” He chapped his lips. “It’s a little light, fruity, and cherry-blossomy.”
Fancy chuckled. “Cherry-blossomy? My word, I’ll have to remember that one.”
Then, the Doctor caught a glimmer in the corner of his eye and directed his gaze to what appeared to be an ultraviolet tattoo, marked on the inside of Fancy Pants’ right foreleg, partly hidden by his sleeve. It was round, twice the size of an average Equestrian Bit, and glowed prismatically at certain angles. It featured the crest of House Platinum, framed symmetrically with three circles of Equestrian runes. There was no mistaking it, it was a Signum.
A Signum is a special mark. A regalia of sorts amongst the nobles of Equestria reserved only for the most prestigious of the Entitled families. Passed down from generation, to generation, a Signum bears an Entitled’s name, linage, family, and circumstance of birth. It is a mark that states one’s claim to a family and admits their status as part of it. The Doctor narrowed his eyes, his curiosity getting the better of him as he tried to interpret the runes for himself.
“Fancy Diamond Platinum. Son of Paraiba Platinum,” he muttered to himself. “Second Premier of House Platinum. Ascended—”
“Something interests you, Doctor Whooves?”
Fancy’s voice jerked the Doctor to attention. It wasn’t long before he realized that his head was now bent at an awkward position. “I know what this looks like, and I am terribly sorry. It’s just that… I’ve never seen a Signum up close before.”
Fancy then rolled up his sleeves placed his foreleg on the cocktail table. “If you had wanted a closer look, Old Sport, all you had to do was ask.” He drew a smile.
The Doctor flinched. “But that would have been terribly rude of me!”
“As opposed to gawking at it?” Fancy raised an eyebrow.
“Touché.” The Doctor chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “It does look beautiful. I’ve always been curious as to why Ryan would always get a wee bit touchy about his own.”
“Because, Doctor.” Fancy engulfed his whisky glass in a shade of gold and swirled it. The slushing of liquid gold rattled a chipped ball of ice against the clear crystal. “It serves as an everlasting reminder of what he is… and that he will never belong.”
The Doctor blinked at the alabaster unicorn, clearly confused. “I don’t quite follow.”
Fancy took a sip from the edge of his glass. “Pray tell Doctor, just how familiar are you with the terms describing an Entitled’s circumstance of birth?”
“Not well enough, I’m afraid,” the Doctor replied. “Perhaps you would care to enlighten me.”
Fancy returned the glass to the table. “There are three… a Descended, an Ascended, and a Transcended. The Descended are pureborns, sired within the legal confines of Equestrian law which defines a legal union between any race and gender. Hence they are, by definition, the pureblooded descendants of a noble house,” Fancy said. “Now, a Transcended, however—”
“I’ve heard Ryan refer to himself as such on multiple occasions,” the Doctor said.
“A Transcended is a brand used for those willfully adopted into an Entitled family, so long as the adopted in question remain unrelated to the family by bond or blood. Mind you, that these occasions are indeed rare.” Fancy lifted his glass of whisky and took a quick sip. “Unfortunately, the mark of a Transcended remains a stigma amongst the Entitled, primarily because a Transcended is often of lesser birth. So you can understand Orion’s reluctance in discussing the matter.”
The Doctor nodded. “I believe I understand now, but what of the third one… the Ascended?”
There was an unnerving silence before Fancy chuckled weakly. “You know Doctor, as Entitled, we make mistakes. It is almost expected of us, really. However, more often than most, some mistakes aren’t so easily rectified.” Fancy lifted his glass to his lips and downed his whisky in a single gulp.
An angry and pained expression streaked across the unicorn’s face as he shrugged. “And whether out of guilt or desperation, it sometimes falls upon the Lord of the house to acknowledge those mistakes.”
The Doctor’s cobalt irises shrunk to the size of pinheads as he was hit with the painful realization.
“The brand Ascended is reserved specifically for those mistakes, Doctor.” Fancy took a deep breath, then exhaled. “You know, when Sol offered me the privilege to be Orion’s godfather, I accepted it wholeheartedly, not simply out of loyalty to my dear friend… rather because I know what it’s like to be alone… and unwanted.”
“Lord Platinum… I…”
Fancy shook his head. “You know, I think I could use another drink.” The older stallion stopped a passing pegasus mare. “Another glass of your finest Mahakaman whiskey, if you would be so kind.” He gestured with a shake of his glass.
“At once, Your Grace.” The mare nodded and took the empty glass in her tray.
“Much obliged.” Fancy smiled. He then turned to the Doctor, who was looking as if he had just discovered where foals came from. “Don’t look too shocked, my friend. It’s a matter of public record, and besides, I’ve made peace with my past.”
“I apologize… I’m just surprised you aren’t the least concerned about the matter,” the Doctor said.
“It is because I never forget what I am. The rest of the world would not.” Fancy placed a hoof on the Doctor’s shoulder. “I wear it like armor, and it can never be used to hurt me.”
“That… that is good advice.”
“It is, isn’t it?” Fancy chuckled. “I received it from a poor, misshapen soul from a distant land, many years ago. Shame… I never got his name, though.”
The crystal strobe lights danced overhead. A rainbow of bright neon streaked across the walls accompanied by a fog of dry-iced smoke. A spotlight directed their attention to the stage at the far end of the hall as the same spokespony from before came up to the microphone. Once again, the stage is swarmed with cameras and eager reporters looking to fill the pages of their notebooks with more of Orion’s snarky comments. The Doctor couldn’t help but groan at the thought.
“Good afternoon, fillies and gentlecolts. I thank you for your patience, and I am certain that the refreshments are to your satisfaction.” The spotlights centered in on the red curtains in the backdrop. “Now allow me to welcome back our esteemed President of Abrasax Industries, Lord Orion Abrasax!”
The crowd erupted in a round of applause accompanied by a quartet of musicians playing in the background. The curtain remained as still as ever as the showpony gave a nervous chuckle.
“Please welcome, Lord Orion Abrsax!” he declared yet again.
The moments passed, and there was still no sign of their esteemed guest. The Doctor could sense panic brewing in the room like a witch’s cauldron. He then felt something vibrate in his coat pocket. He raised an eyebrow as he reached for his mobile device. Flipping it open, he swiped his hoof across the clear, neon green screen, and revealed an instant message from no other than Lord Orion himself. What in blazes? The Doctor thought.
A mare then emerged from behind the curtains, half-stumbling over a hooves as she stared, petrified at the crowd of ponies before her. Coco drew an awkward grin and waved her hoof.
The Doctor felt as if his jaw would hit the floor. “Oh, no. He didn’t.” He then activated the message. “Sorry, old chap. Had to dash. L-O-L,” he read aloud. “Do me a favor and handle our little friends from the press. Consider this an I-O-U. I’ll be in touch, ciao… smiley face.”
He snatched his glass of wine and downed it in a single gulp, lighting his throat on fire as his face flushed red from the rage now boiling within. “Bloody, bucking Hell.”
Fancy immediately burst out laughing, so hard, that he started hammering the table in a most ungentlecoltly manner, drawing the attention of everypony nearby. “Oh, Sol,” he said, struggling to catch his breath. “If only you could see him now, old friend. You’d be so proud.”
“Your drink, Your Grace.” The mare from before returned, a fresh glass of whiskey on her tray.
“Thank you, my dear.” Fancy took the glass from the tray. As the mare left the company of the two stallions, he lifted the glass to the ceiling. “Here’s to you, old friend, may you rest eternally in the halls of Elysium, and as for the rest of my fellow whoresons in the House of Lords.” His eyes narrowed in rancor. Azure irises gleamed with malevolence as potent as venom from a cobra’s fang. “Better wrap up warm. There’s a wind coming… a wind of war.”
“Ya sure them reporters won’t start goin’ barmy over ya skippin’ out on ‘em, M’lord?” Albert tilted his hat to the guard at the checkpoint who raised the gate in response. The Hermes’ engines roared with elegance and might as it pulled up into the street.
“The privilege of being an Entitled, my dear Albert, is that society is compelled to be a bit more forgiving over our misdemeanors.” Orion fished a custom pair of wireless earphones from his suit pockets and plugged them into his ears. “Albeit, not always out of the goodness of their hearts.”
He chuckled at the Doctor’s reply as flashed green on his mobile screen. “Oh my, Doctor, I never knew you had such a colorful vocabulary.” He danced his fingers across the neon keyboard suspended over his wrist. “Love… you... too, ole’… boy. X-O-X-O.”
“I’ll take ya word for it then.” The earth pony gazed at Orion’s reflection in the rear view mirror as he leaned in on the accelerator. “Any destination in mind, M’lord?”
Orion swiped past the numerous playlists arranged on his mobile device and touched play. A hurricane of guitars and drums soon flooded his ear canals.
“Canterlot Palace.”
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7907228 I lied
i'm liking this,more please
I'm now eager to see the meeting between Orion and Shining Armor.
7908172
I'm glad you did~
Oh... oh my~
Ohohooo, this is looking good so far, hehehe XD
Mmm~ oh lawdy... the lewdness~
nice job
7908387 Glad you like it so far!
7908595 It's coming in the episode after, but I did include a small prologue in Episode 1
7909152
7909194
Yes, the Lord has needs too. I kid, I kid.
7909920
We might want such scenes~
*Inhales deeply*
Don't tease us so!
7910089 I'm saving the romance for later
7910116
Oh boy~
Ha I'm liking Orion more and more.
7911758 Let me know what you think about the next chapter too
7912229 He is kinda an asshole tho
7912807 Yeah but he's my kind of asshole. Reminds me of myself.
3/10
Boa bla
2/10
.
7909194
Happy it was a prank, though.
As it is, it went a bit far for something I'd be willing to read.
I'm not against romance in stories, but I don't want to see details, and those involved had better be getting AT LEAST engaged should they decide to do more than kiss.