Act 3 Chapter 25 : There's No Need To Fear!
Relations between the species currently known as the ‘diamond dogs’ and the various equine races have been strained for many centuries. The conflict which originated those tensions came about during the first Equestrian Unification over a thousand years ago during which the three major tribes of Equestria banded together and drove the canine race from their lands.
Few legends from those times remain, but the ones that do suggest centuries of relatively congenial interaction between dogs and ponies. At one time, ponies tilled the land and sky, provided food and gems, and the dogs kept the ponies from harm. They were equine kind’s soldiers, police, and shepherds. When ponies began to develop weapons, magic, and other systems to defend themselves, a slow realization stole over equine-kind; they no longer needed the dogs to protect them.
It was then that the fall of the diamond dogs began. Their civilization never quite recovered from the loss of that symbiotic relationship with ponies. In many places they are regarded as little more than intelligent animals. Still, those ancient instincts to protect and defend Equine kind have never entirely died.
-The Scholar
Taxi’s toe hovered over the ignition.
“Lim...one more time: are you sure?” she asked worriedly. “We can find some other way of getting—”
“I am sure,” the librarian said, bracing his hooves on the dashboard. “Do begin, please. The sooner we start, the sooner this will be over and I can stop anticipating it.”
Reaching forward, I laid my leg on his back, carefully avoiding all the wires tangled around his forelegs. Taxi shot me a questioning look, and I nodded.
The engine growled, and a white hot spark shot off the end of Limerence’s horn, leaving a black mark on the ceiling. As the spell core spooled up, Lim slowly went rigid, his teeth grinding against each other. Tugging a clean bandage out of the rucksack beside me, I crawled between the seats and forced his muzzle open with the edge of my hoof until I could wedge the cloth into his jaws. The air around his body smelled like ozone, but his eyes were open and alert. I stared into them until he blinked, then tapped the dash twice.
“Taxi...get us moving. Keep our speed down until we’re out of the Aroyo-patrolled areas.” I pulled the radio juju bag from around my neck and passed it to Swift, who gave me a confused look. “Kid, could you talk to Tourniquet? See if you can get her to look in on us and guide us away from anything dangerous.”
“Yes, Sir. Is...is he going to be okay?” she asked, gesturing at Limerence.
Sparks were dribbling off the end of Lim’s horn as the ring around its base glowed softly. He slowly folded his hooves under himself and shut his eyes, unable to disguise the quivering in his chest but still determined to remain composed. The veins in his neck were standing out in a disconcerting manner.
“He’ll be fine,” I lied, fishing a healing talisman out of the supplies and pressing the thin metal disk to Lim’s neck. The runes around the edge started to flicker, and his shoulders noticeably relaxed. “Sweets...drive.”
----
Swift spoke in hushed tones to the juju bag, occasionally looking up long enough to direct us away from a bottleneck or a dangerous area. For as much as I knew the city had ponies in it, one wouldn’t know it from the state of the streets. I supposed most had found themselves some little enclaves to hide in or joined one of the factions. Even the most stubborn could surely see the writing on the wall. With the Biters attacking anypony who wasn’t heavily defended, we had the roads to ourselves.
Unfortunately, that meant the lightning-spewing cab stuck out worse than it usually did, even at low speeds. With a few of the crazier modifications disabled, one could pretend we were a normal cab for about two seconds before the engine let out a wail like an injured animal. ‘Stabilizing’ the engine was all Limerence could really do, and Taxi’s version of slow was different from everypony else’s.
The city hemmed us in on all sides, and I was getting that unpleasant ticklish sensation in my stomach that said somebody was following us; every time I looked, though, there was nothing there. Of course, in the films you always catch a glimpse out of the corner of your eye or something like that; in the real world, frequently all you’ve got is a gut feeling. Tourniquet’s ladybug armada was probably out there and might have been watching out for us, but the sensation in my gut told me otherwise.
The quiet was starting to make my stomach writhe, and I was ready for an attack or some music. We were still miles from the Castle or the diamond dog enclave.
“Sweets? You mind turning on the radio?” I asked. “Maybe Gypsy?”
Taxi peered over at Limerence, who was chewing the bandage in his teeth. The hair on his neck was standing on end while that around the base of his horn was charred at the tips. He quickly nodded his assent, clutching the dashboard as power coursed through his body.
Leaning forward, Swift set the juju bag on the center console and asked, “You...you think she’s still on?”
“Unless somepony managed to chase her off of the police networks, I don’t doubt it. Pony like that? No, she’ll still be on the air,” I said as Taxi reached down and flicked on the radio.
Gypsy’s urgent voice filled the car.
“This is the voice of Detrot calling the only stallion who can help! You know who you are! If you can hear this, you’ve got to get to the Castle! The police have been cut off, and their food and water supplies have been poisoned! Their escape routes are guarded, and over a dozen officers have been killed trying to find a way through! Nopony is responding on any of the emergency frequencies! This message repeats!... This is the voice of Detrot calling the only pony who can help! You know who you are! If you can hear—”
Taxi touched the power button, and there was silence again. I shifted in my seat and closed my eyes, trying to find a peaceful place inside my head where I could scream like a toddler for about three minutes. Why couldn’t anything ever be simple?
My driver was the first to speak.
“Trap?” she asked.
I considered it for a moment, then nodded. “Yeah. You get the feeling we’re being tailed?”
Reaching back, she rubbed the scars where her cutie mark used to be, then glanced in the rearview mirror. “For awhile now, yes. They’re not intent on attacking us, yet, but they’re definitely interested in where we’re headed. They’re not friendly.”
I turned to Swift. “Kid? Tourniquet getting anything?”
“No, Sir,” she replied, shaking her head. “If they are following us, though, they’re probably flying, and she can’t get a good look any distance above five meters from one of the major electrical lines. We’re also near several Shield pylons. Those mess with her perception really badly.”
Touching Limerence’s neck, I felt the waves of heat coming off of the restriction ring around the base of his horn. The tears dripping off his cheeks might have been confused for perspiration, but his lips had a determined set. Slowly, he forced his mouth open and spat out the chewed bandage.
“D-detective. I...I am s-stable. The sp-speed is at your dis...dis...disposal.”
‘You’re a piece of unmitigated shit, Hard Boiled,’ I thought, watching my friend shaking in the seat, a trickle of blood starting to creep down his nose. Leaning forward, I wiped it away with the back of my hoof.
“You heard him, Sweets,” I said. “Get us to the diamond dog enclave. The sooner we’re there, the sooner we can unhook him from this thing.”
Taxi gave me a dubious look, then gave the cab a little more gas. Lim gasped and clutched at the seat as we blew down the streets, his face bathed in a sheen of sweat. The smell of burning hair filled the car.
Swift yelped and swung around to the windows, grabbing her bag with the Hailstorm in it and throwing the gun across her back. The turrets spooled up almost immediately, and her eyes widened. “Sir! Tourniquet just got a ping! Our pursuers are magically disguised and they’re fading in and out, even where she can see them! I’ve got two targets at extreme range and closing in! Four targets!...Six! Sir, there’s ten targets!”
Lifting a quivering hoof, Limerence rested it on Taxi’s shoulder. “G-go f-faster.”
“No!” I barked. “Sweets, we’ll fight if we have to!”
“T-too ex-exposed,” Lim murmured at the conflicted expression on my driver’s face. “All d-die, then w-world dies. G-go faster.”
Taxi applied even more gas, and great spurts of green lightning started to burst from under the hood as we accelerated again, screaming around corners and down straightaways towards the Castle.
“What do you see, kid?” I asked Swift as she looked through the Hailstorm’s magical tracking system.
“They’re falling back,” she replied, scanning the sky. “Sir, I think...I think they lost us. They’re moving left and right, like they’re hunting for us street by street.”
I pointed off to our left. “This is Cardamom Street, right? Yeah, just down there. The old Axe place.”
“Right, I remember where it is,” Sweets replied.
Swinging the wheel around, Taxi sped down Cardamom Street. On a good day, it was a quiet residential street, with a few dozen identical little houses lined up side by side, cookie-cutter productions of a bygone era that deserved a flamethrower taken to them. There was one home on the row that stood out, though.
When the developer that put up those other ugly little boxes bought up the street, old Miss Axe Biter wouldn’t sell. Her house stood out as a bastion of old world sensibilities, with a defensible turret on top, crenelations around the eaves, brick construction, and very few windows.
I’d solved a little bother with old Miss Axe Biter about ten years back, when a neighbor was found with one of her antique war axes buried in his skull. It was a minor murder and frame job by an unhappy cousin who’d been written out of the family will, but Miss Axe Biter still made a point of annually sending around a gigantic tub of cookies to the police department for Hearth’s Warming Eve.
Unfortunately, her house appeared to have been abandoned. The front door was smashed in and the garage door left open. True, Axe Biter had little enough worth stealing, but it was sad to see her home in such a state. Even the front garden was trampled pretty badly. I silently prayed nothing had happened to the old cow and she’d found herself somewhere else to hole up.
Still, an empty garage was an empty garage.
We sped into the tiny box-like room, just barely missing the back wall with a screech of the brakes. Waves of sweat were rolling off Lim’s body and a stream of blood trickled from his nose, but he was still holding on as we let the engine idle. I pulled a fresh healing talisman from the bag and set it against his forehead.
“Kid? What’s the situation back there?” I asked.
Swift squinted at the roof overhead as the Hailstorm’s cannons let of a bit of cool fog that dribbled down her shoulders like smoke. “They’re still moving, but...farther off to our left. I think they’re...maybe avoiding this area? I don’t know. It’s really hard to tell, Sir.” Her gaze slowly slid down until she was staring at the floor of the cab. “Huh. That’s funny.”
“What’s funny? Very few things are funny, right now, kid,” I replied. Limerence was resting his cheek on the dashboard. His eyes were still open, but just barely.
“Well, it’s probably just a family of gophers or something. The Hailstorm is giving me a bunch of target reticules underneath us. That’s the ground, though, isn’t it? Unless this place has a basement or something...”
I hesitated only a moment, just long enough for my driver and I to exchange a quick look.
“Taxi, drive!” I shouted. She was already throwing the cab into reverse, but it was too late.
The ground beneath the garage let out an eardrum shattering crack and my stomach lurched as the car rang like a gong hit with a sledgehammer. My head ached as the vehicle tipped forward, then slid nose-first into a black hole. Dirt flowed up the windows, moving like water as it swirled around us and we were swallowed up by the darkness.
With another jolt, I was suddenly in midair. My skull hit something soft, then something that yelped, then something fluffy, and finally something that set bells ringing. The last sound I heard was Mags’s indignant screeching as she was rudely awakened from her nap.
----
It would be nice to be a young griffin. Combine the best parts of being a cat with the best parts of being a bird and you get a creature that can spend the largest part of the day napping, flying, complaining, or being petted. Mags gets to sleep through most of the worst bits of any given week.
Now and then, I get a similar opportunity, but usually only after a concussion.
I came to slowly. No sense waking up violently most of the time, especially when you don’t know your circumstances, but this gradual awakening was more a product of dizziness and less of alert forethought.
The first thing I felt was something furry wrapped around me, not just fuzzy or fluffy but with a definite furry quality. Gravity hadn’t quite asserted itself in a particular direction yet, but I had the ugly sensation that I was being carried over a shoulder and that the warm blanket around my midsection was an arm. Since the shoulders of quadrupeds are a very particular shape and few have anything like arms, that left one of the bipedal species: diamond dogs or minotaurs. There are other bipeds in our world, but few friendly enough to live in the city.
My other senses started to return, one at a time. I opened my eyes, then blinked a few times before realizing my hat was mashed down over my face. Still, there was the smell to latch onto.
Dirt. Perfume. Dog sweat.
Dog sweat and perfume.
Diamond dogs. I was being carried by a heavily perfumed diamond dog. Lots of unpleasant possibilities were playing out in my head, but I needed more information before I could decide which one was most likely.
I could hear the shuffling of several other beings as they moved through the dark in near total silence while something rattled and clanked along behind us. I couldn’t tell exactly, but the sound was very regular, as though some heavy weight were being dragged over rocks and stones.
Lifting my head as much as I was able in my awkward position, I cleared my throat.
“Ahem?” I murmured. “Could you perchance put me down?”
My captor or whatever they might be stopped, then plucked me off of their shoulder as though I weighed nothing at all and held me at arm’s length with my hooves dangling.
“Awake?” a gravelly voice observed. “Hrmph. Praetor say you should be knocked out longer with head bleeding like that. Not bleeding now, though. Guess they not know everything.”
Putting a toe under the brim of my hat, I nudged it back so I could see who I was addressing. I immediately regretted it.
The face in front of me was the sort only a mother could love, but even then, only if she’d been drinking heavily. Diamond dogs are kinda ugly on a good day, and the jowly mutt holding me was a specimen of particular wretchedness, like a rottweiler who’d made romantic overtures to a running lawnmower. The dog’s brown fur was crisscrossed with scars and deep, flesh-penetrating bite marks that would have made a griffin warrior proud.
Worse, on first impressions, I suspected the creature was female. I didn’t want to check under her tail to make sure, but she was wearing enough paint and powder on her cheeks to put a whole clown school out of business. She was also wearing a bright red frock with white polkadots that fit her about as well as garter belts on a hippopotamus. A small gold plated olive branch was perched behind her right ear, completely out of place and looking very odd on a canine her size.
I gulped and rooted around in my slightly bruised cerebrum for some words. I knew there were some in there, but all of my language centers seemed to be occupied coming up with new ways to say ‘you look like a chimera’s backside’, and that would have been impolite, since the lady hadn’t yet dropped me on my head.
Leaning a little bit to one side, I tried to get a look at our party. In the barely lit tunnel, it was hard to tell exactly who was back there, but the dark didn’t seem to bother the dogs much. There were six of them, all smaller than the one who’d been carrying me. Two were tethered to something with a couple of bright, shining lights on the front of it, hauling the object like a sled. It took me a moment to realize it was the cab being pulled along behind them.
One of the other dogs was carrying two thick canvas bags slung over his shoulders, while yet another held Limerence in the crook of one leg. He seemed to be unconscious, dangling limply.
“I can walk, if you don’t mind,” I said, glancing down at my foreleg. I was somewhat comforted to realize they hadn’t confiscated my revolver.
The frocked dog shifted me to one paw and jabbed a claw over her shoulder at the dog carting the two bags.
“That up to Commander Max,” she said.
‘Commander Max’ looked like some mix of a labrador retriever and a goat. Maybe a goat with the mange. He was wearing enough bandoliers of ammunition across his chest and waist that he didn’t actually require clothing, but there were no guns in sight. He also wore the strange, golden olive branch on a lanyard around his throat. As a matter of fact, all of the diamond dogs sported it somewhere on their person, sometimes as a brooch, sometimes as an earring, but always present.
Max - who’d had apparently been listening to my exchange with the female dog - held up a muscular arm for the group to stop and nodded for my captor to let me down. She gently set me on my hooves.
“You. Pony. Hard Boiled?” Max asked.
“That’ll be me, yes,” I replied. “Whereabouts are my friends?”
Max chuckled, shifting the bag he was carrying from one shoulder to the other. “We see the wanted posters with you face on them! You friends were less—” He paused, as though searching for the right words. “—polite when we say they now guests of the Underdogs. Little bitey pegasus with dangerous teeth goes in bag with little bitey griffin. Crazy face-kicking monster pony goes in trunk of car.”
I peered at the other diamond dogs. Several wore bandages or bruises that suggested they’d been in a tussle recently.
“My driver does tend to be impolite when someone burrows under the car without permission. Mind if I inquire why you felt the need to drag us down here?” I asked, trying to get a look ahead of us. The only light was provided by the headlamps of the cab, and it wasn’t enough to pierce the cloying darkness.
One of the bags in his arms squirmed a little.
Swift’s slightly panicky voice issued from inside. “Sir? Sir, is that you? Are you free?”
“Yeah, kid. Did we try negotiation, or was it straight to violence?”
“Well...Taxi was really angry when she saw what happened to the side panels and bumper of the car, then when you wouldn’t wake up she sort of...went crazy, and Mags jumped on the little dog with the mohawk—” Swift explained as I flicked my eyes across the group until I found the dog in question. He was limping along, with a bandage wrapped around his crotch. “—and then I tried to stop her and they thought I was attacking—”
I quickly interrupted before she could paint a more complete picture. “Right, kid. I get it.” Turning back to Commander Max, rubbing my forehead, I could feel a quickly fading cut just above my eyebrow and some crusted blood down the side of my face. “Sorry for any inconvenience, Mister Max. Since we’re alive and I still have my gun, I’m presuming you don’t mean us any harm. Do you mind letting my partner out of the sack? I promise she won’t cause any more trouble.”
Max shrugged, shifting the bags with Swift and Mags around and setting them on the floor of the cave. Grabbing the drawstring, he pulled it open. “You have guns, we take bullets. You cause trouble, we knock you out again, put in bag again. Simple?”
“Simple,” I agreed as my partner pushed her nose out of the bag. Reaching out, I helped her up, then went to check the second sack as she stretched her wings. Mags was in the bottom of it, sound asleep once more. I made a note in my head to see if griffin narcolepsy might be a thing. Still, it was probably easier to transport her that way. I tugged the drawstring shut again and lifted her onto my back, then turned back to Max. “You had somewhere you were taking us?”
“Scout dog see Biters chasing you,” Max explained, his droopy ears twitching back the direction we’d come from. “Figure you need help. Not figure you have crazy ponies and catbird with you. You pony hero. Bella think you worth saving. She also think you cute.”
The female who’d been carrying me, Bella, took a quick step forward, bared her teeth, and jabbed Max in the forearm hard enough to stumble him. “I not say he cute!”
Far from being offended, Max’s tail began wagging like mad. “You thinking it, though! Hehe!”
Bella crossed her arms over her expansive, polka-dotted bosom. “I gonna thump you next time we in the ring, Max.” Shaking her jowls, she leaned down to my eye level. “You is cute, though, pony. Want to put bows in your tail, later.”
“Uh...right.” I quickly took three steps back and leaned over to Swift. “Kid? Are all your bits in the right order?”
Swift was nervously straightening her badly rumpled feathers and patting around on her vest to see if anything had been taken. “I think so, Sir. I don’t have my weapons and my wings are going to need an hour with a feather brush, though. What about Limerence?”
“Max, what about the other stallion?” I nodded toward where Limerence lay with my hooftip. “Did your… ‘Praetor’ get the chance to look at him? Is he okay?”
“I not know,” Max replied, gravely. The diamond dog carrying Limerence took a couple of steps forward, lowering him for me to look. In the low light, I couldn’t see many details, but the librarian’s face was drawn and pale. “Little blue pony not wake up when we pull him out of cab. We going to Praetor place. He not able to do more than poke at you till have his tools. He went ahead to get things ready. Praetor explain things better than Max. He lead the Underdogs. He smart.”
Brushing a hoof through Lim’s mane, I held my fetlock under his nose until I could detect his gentle breathing. “He’s alive, at least. Underdogs. Right. Pardon if I haven’t heard of you, but there are lots of new factions in the city lately.”
Max chuckled, rising to his full height as his tail slapped against his rear legs frantically. “Heh, we grow since sun go away, but we be pack many years. Underdog pack fight make safe place in city of blood, but few ponies want live underground. Now, when sun go, there more ponies and more dogs want a pack to keep them safe.”
All six of the diamond dogs threw one arm across their chests in a sort of odd salute and shouted, “Dig, fight, guard, return the sun!”
After a short silence, I finally sorted my thoughts out enough to speak. “Return the sun, huh? That’s something I can get behind.”
“Dig, fight, guard, too!” Max said, his muzzle hanging open in a canine smile. “I add the ‘return the sun’ part after sun go away.”
“Good slogan, really. Well, now that we’re all friends here...can I get my driver out of the trunk, too?”
Max and Bella exchanged a look, then both shook their heads.
“Crazy face kicking pony stays in boot,” Max said, firmly, tapping the largest bandolier of armor across his chest. “She have lots of words for calling dogs bad names and promising all kinds of face kicking. You talk to her, though. If Doyle asleep, leave him sleep. He grumpy when he woken up. He also keeping lid shut.”
“Much obliged.” I trotted around Max towards the cab. The two dogs towing it gave me indifferent looks as I moved around to the back. Another dog who I presumed was ‘Doyle’ was sitting on the lid of the trunk, snoozing like a baby. I shifted his tail out of the way and eased down to speak. “Sweets? You there?”
“Where else would I be, numbnutz?!” came a muffled shout. “Lemme out so I can kill all these dogs and reupholster my cab with their skins!”
I shut my eyes and thought of flowers and sunshine. Flowers and sunshine.
“Sweets, these dogs are friendlies. At least, I’m pretty sure they are. Can we dispense with the killing?”
“No! Did you see what they did to my car?!”
I stepped back and shrugged at Max, who was giving me an amused look.
“Can I get some duct tape or something to make sure she doesn’t escape until we’re good and ready?” I asked.
“What?! Hardy, I’m going to use your spine for a new gearstick when I get out of here!”
“Yeah, forget the duct tape. Better make it rope.”
----
Swift and I strolled leisurely along beside the Underdogs as they led us deeper into their tunnel network. Mags was still asleep, Limerence was still unconscious, and Taxi’s death threats had settled to a dull roar.
A few times we crossed through broken pipes that’d been sealed off or rerouted, but for the most part the dogs’ excavationssd had managed to avoid digging through any major city conveniences so far as I could tell. The tunnel network was enormous and seemed frequently to have been dug straight out of either bedrock or the concrete underpinnings of the city itself. That nothing had collapsed was probably testament to diamond dog engineering and digging techniques. I couldn’t be certain, but I had the impression that we’d been slowly descending.
I wanted to question Max further on what exactly the Underdogs were, but he just gave me a crooked grin and wagged his great bush of a tail. I couldn’t be sure, but I did keep catching Bella glancing at my flank from time to time. Not lecherously, so much as with a keen interest; considering what she was wearing, it made me a little nervous to think what sort of getup she might try to slap me in if given half a chance. Still, Swift owed the Warden of Tartarus a date, and I was probably going to be saddled with Scarlet Petals for a night, so it might not hurt to see somepony about a new look once the world was no longer facing imminent destruction.
After what I judged to be a walk of around three quarters of an hour, Max brought the party to a stop once more. The tunnel looked exactly the same as every other we’d walked through to date, with the sole exception that it was worn slightly smoother and the walls seemed a tad better sculpted.
Moving to one side of the tunnel, he tapped three times with a knuckle, then did a complicated little dance with his back legs that echoed in the stone.
Without warning, or rather with little enough warning that I went diving for my trigger bit even though my gun was empty, a half dozen additional diamond dogs burrowed out of the walls, shaking dirty paws as they tore themselves free. A large circle on the wall Max had approached began to collapse inward, leaving a gaping hole three times my height and just as wide into a well-lit cavern behind. A pair of dogs on either side stepped back from a couple of ropes that’d been holding the ‘door’ shut. The fitting was so precise I couldn’t have told you exactly where it was when it was shut.
The space beyond looked like it might have been an old cistern or underground reservoir at some point, long since drained. Ramshackle huts ringed the walls, and electric lights hung from strings across the ceiling, dangling low to provide a sort of cool illumination that would neither bother equine eyes nor blind diamond dogs. That was a considerate addition, since there seemed to be a huge number of ponies down there, wandering between the shelters along with what was surely half of the diamond dog population of Detrot. For a subterranean village, it seemed clean and relatively well kept. Sadly, I couldn’t make out much beyond the general shapes.
“How...long has this been here?” I asked Max, staring down at the little town.
Max picked at his teeth with the tip of his tongue. “Twice ten summers. It only place bad ponies not look. Underdogs hide. Stay safe. Save dogs who not able to save themselves. When sky go dark, we grow. More ponies, more dogs. Keep them safe. Keep them hidden.”
“Sir, we’re very near the police department,” Swift murmured, flicking her tail at a sign on the wall beside the door with the old version of the D.P.D. badge on it and an inspection sticker dating back twenty years. Stepping closer, she quickly read the notice, and her eyes widened. “I think...I think we might be underneath the Academy!”
“The Academy? What makes you think so?”
Swift rolled her eyes. “Sir, you know the abandoned buildings six streets over from the Castle are part of the Academy, right? That was in Police History 101.”
“Kid, it’s been sixteen years since I cracked a history book, and I spent several of those years drunk as a skunk. You’ll excuse me if I don’t remember the arcana of the city map, but that’s usually Taxi’s job and she’s in the trunk of the car.”
“Oh...right. Sorry, Sir. I forget that sometimes,” she apologized, scratching her spiky mane.
“Then please, illuminate me.”
“Well, you know there were all those budget cuts about twenty years ago, right? The last mayor sold a bunch of old city buildings, including almost half of what used to be the Academy, for mall space. Then there was some sort of big fight with the city, and it all ended up just...kinda...sitting there. Nopony wanted to use it.”
“Best place to hide is place ponies never look,” Bella explained, toying with Lim’s hooves as she moved through the door. “We stay out of sewers and scarred ponies that own sewers stay away from police. Follow. I take you to Praetor.”
“Praetor? Not familiar with that word,” I said, cocking my head.
“It think it might mean something like ‘governor’ or ‘magistrate’ in old Pegasopalan, Sir,” Swift interjected, then added a little more softly, “You’d have to ask my dad. He’s the one who loves ancient pegasus history. He used to read their fairy tales to me, and I think I remember that word.”
I shook my head as I watched the bustling little community. “Funny how many communities in Detrot have ended up underground. I guess with the Wilds and the violence on the surface, moving back into the same tunnels that shielded us during the dragon raids and the early settlements makes sense. The dogs used to work the mines. They can’t all have started freaky pred-prey clubs or be working as bodyguards for psychopaths...”
Bella hooked a tooth over her lip and started down into the village. “Follow me, pretty ponies!”
I looked over my shoulder at the cab. “What about the car?”
The giant bitch snickered, swishing her tail back and forth. “We just leave it there. You headed to castle of police ponies, right? Or do you want we should let crazy face-kicking pony free so she can tear out you lungs and beat you with them like she say?”
I pretended to consider the offer, then tugged at the hem of my anti-magic armor. “No, no...just shove it back down the tunnel a little. We’ll get it when we’re ready to go. If this ‘Praetor’ of yours knew I was coming and hasn’t decided to shoot me already, he’s probably not looking for a prisoner or a corpse.”
Bella pulled a walkie-talkie from a pocket of her dress and waggled it at me. “When face-kicking pony said you name back there when she was kicking Mango in the face, Praetor heard. Praetor say ‘Bring Mister Hard Boiled right down. I decide if we push him into bottomless pit’.”
“Oh...lovely. Well, by-golly and gee-willickers, why don’t we just go see this Praetor fellow, right away?”
----
The ‘village’ of the Underdogs was small by Detrot standards, more of a community center, really, but it was also the first time in a while that it seemed nopony had heard of Detective Hard Boiled. The sensation of strolling through what amounted to a small shire without anyone giving me so much as a sideways glance was refreshing. My enemies had gifted me fame that I was certain was likely to prove lethal before it proved helpful, and the sea of faces all ignoring me gave me a warm, bubbly feeling inside that only a cop can appreciate.
The anonymity might have been some byproduct of the environment, however; the low light did make it hard to see more than basic details of anyone more than a few meters away.
Even though it was somewhat dark and a bit dingy, there was a craftsponyship to the place that belied the underlying materials. Small avenues ran between the buildings, which were less shacks, more permanent housing built out of a million different kinds of scrap metal. Whoever was building them was a skilled welder and had an artist’s eye for detail.
There were houses made out of old cars with windows which rolled up and down. A mare in a two-story flat was watering a box of mushrooms which grew in a planter made out of a half dozen old buckets side by side. A whole apartment block next door was faced with great sheets of soda can metal, pounded flat and shingled to produce a colorful, reflective siding and rooftop. The town couldn’t have been more than three or four streets wide, but the population was densely packed and the buildings climbed several stories each with walkways slung between them.
The overwhelming smell of mildew and dirt was everywhere, compounded by the close in scent of many ponies and diamond dogs living in close quarters. That said, there was a gentle breeze keeping the air moving.
Since Bella knew where we were going, I let my mind drift, focusing just on keeping an eye on her polka-dotted backside as we moved into the crowds.
“Sir? I’m trying to feel Tourniquet. I...I can’t!” Swift whispered, looking a little panicky.
“I don’t think this place runs off city power, kid. Maybe a generator or something? Listen.”
She cocked an ear towards the ceiling. There was a definite low hum, audible above the buzz of conversations and the soft shuffling of hoof traffic over the dirt carpeting the avenues. Somewhere, somepony was singing a pleasant little aria.
“S-sir...can I have the ladybug, p-please?” she stammered, pushing herself against my side.
I fished out the bottle with its tiny prisoner. The insect seemed to have been napping; I gave it a light shake, then passed it to my partner. “Why?”
She took it and clutched the bottle to her chest. “I just want to let Tourniquet know I’m alright.”
Gently tapping the glass, she got the bug’s attention. The little creature stretched, spreading its chromatic wings, then crawled up to the cork. Swift popped the cork out and held the mouth of the bottle to her mane, looking visibly more relaxed as the ladybug burrowed into her hair.
“Just keep her from sending the cavalry down on us, alright? We don’t need a bunch of Aroyo heavies blowing a hole in the roof of this place because your friend gets lonely,” I said, dodging around a young mare being led by the hoof by a much smaller diamond dog pup who was yammering away about ‘sweet rocks’ as they headed down the avenue.
“Yes, Sir. Sorry, Sir. I just don’t like it when I can’t feel her. It’s like...it’s like somepony pulled off one of my wings.”
“Just for my peace of mind, kid, I’d appreciate if you never tried to explain that to me. I find when I think too hard about your relationship with Tourniquet I get that weird sensation of staring off the edge off a building and having the urge to jump,” I called over my shoulder as I continued after Bella.
Swift paused to rest her hoof over the crescent-shaped scar on her breastbone for a moment, then cantered to catch up with us.
----
The Praetor’s house was at the end of the lane, wedged up against the concrete wall which ran around the outside of the village and up into the darkness overhead. I say ‘house’, but you can only stretch that term so far. The place was a five meter tall brewing barrel on its end that some mad person had welded a door into the side of. A short slate walkway led up to a porch made from the sawn off bed of a pickup truck. It was surrounded by a pleasant little mushroom garden with a few specimens in purple and pink that stood as tall as my barrel. Metal sculptures of geese wandered in an artfully welded flock between the fungus caps.
The welcome mat had a stylized picture of a pile of feces on it and said ‘Go away’.
As we stopped at the door, Bella unlimbered Limerence from her neck and held him in her forelegs like a child while she lifted her walkie-talkie to her muzzle.
“Praetor. It Bella. We here. You awake still?” she said in as gentle a voice as someone with vocal chords that sounded like they were made out of bags of rocks might. Leaning to one side, she murmured, “He getting old and nap in afternoon sometimes.”
The walkie-talkie sputtered, and then a sharp, masculine voice replied, “Pup, if you wish to make smart remarks about my sleeping habits, you best be prepared to lay your marker beside mine next time there’s a fight in the ring. That or you face me in the amphitheater. A debate on the nature of being, perhaps? Pick one or remember your tongue.”
Bella’s ears sagged as she realized she hadn’t taken her thumb off the ‘talk’ button on her communicator. “I no mean disrespect, Praetor. Got pony here.”
“Bring Mister Hard Boiled in, Bella, then go wash some of that perfume off. You stink like you’re in heat.”
The door of the giant cask clicked open, and Bella ducked inside. The smell of cooking meat wafted through the door strongly enough to almost make me gag. Swift had an altogether different reaction.
“Oooh, that’s bacon!”
----
For being the interior of a wine barrel, it was surprisingly roomy. Swift and I stood side by side in the doorway, taking in the ambiance. For someone’s home, it was almost brutally simple, as though the owner had decided interior decorating was a bit below them.
A wide, heavily used cot without a sheet or blanket was wedged beside an old-style coal-fed oven. No carpets or hangings adorned the walls, nor any pictures. Instead there were stacks upon stacks upon stacks of books, scrolls, and all manner of other paper detritus along with spattered ink on almost every surface. A long curtain divided the structure in half right down the middle, creating two ‘rooms’, both lit by a pair candles set in wall-hanging candelabra. Considering all the paper and wood in the place, it was a fire hazard fit to give a civically minded individual nightmares.
“I leave pony here,” Bella said, nervously glancing at the curtain as she laid Limerence gently on the wooden floor of the warm little cottage. “You talk with Praetor. He will heal you friend, then probably push you out the door sometime soon. You like ask questions, he might like you. He still thump you if you annoy him.”
From behind the curtain, the voice said, “Oh, he will most definitely thump you if you annoy him, Mister Hard Boiled.”
A great, shaggy, grey arm swept aside the curtain, and a gangly diamond dog pushed his way through wearing a filthy, ink-and-blood-drenched toga of some sort wrapped from his shoulder to his waist. He leaned heavily on a cane of some kind of dark wood with a rounded cap that looked like it’d been carved out of a bit of driftwood.
While most of the diamond dogs I’d met tended to drag their knuckles when they weren’t otherwise consciously inclined, the one called ‘Praetor’ had a haughty, self-assured demeanor; he squared his shoulders, he lifted his thin muzzle, and his emerald green eyes shone with intelligence.
“Hrmph. You’re shorter than your father,” he growled, hobbling out from behind the curtain. Reaching down, he grabbed my chin, turning it this way and that. His paw pads were hard, like rough leather. “Thinner, too. Let’s see if you’re also an idiot.”
I blinked at him and let him inspect me. He didn’t seem to have noticed Swift, or perhaps he was intentionally ignoring her.
“You knew my father?” I asked, fighting the urge to snap at the comment about my dad.
His lips drew back in a brief snarl as he turned back to the curtain, snatching up a box of crackers and tossing one into his mouth as he addressed me again
“So you are an idiot. Not surprising, really. Only a truly magnificent fool could have gotten themselves into the kind of trouble your family tends to. I suppose I can’t be too disappointed, though,” he commented, chewing noisily. Finally, he turned to Swift. “What about you, filly? Are you a fool?”
She gulped and hugged herself with her wings. “Sometimes, I sure feel like it, Mister Praetor, sir.”
“Harumph! A good answer!” he cackled. Easing down onto one knee, he took one of Swift’s wings between two fingers, spreading it out to one side. “Interesting wings, girl. Ridiculous wings, but interesting. Those morons outside call me Praetor. My name is Dogenes.”
I rubbed my neck, thinking. “Dogenes? My father told me a story about a ‘Dogenes’ who used to teach ethics for the police when he was in training. I mean, you’d have to be his son or something, right? That was over fifty years ago, and dad said Dogenes was old then. That was back before Mayor Trickle Down drummed most of the Diamond Dogs out of the police department...”
“Old is relative, Mister Hard Boiled.” Dogenes’s giant pink tongue lolled from one side of his muzzle as he stepped back behind the curtain. Something sizzled noisily, and Swift’s ears perked. “Do tell me this story, and maybe I’ll tell you if it’s true.”
“Can you take a look at my friend here, first? Bella said you could heal him. He wired himself into a—”
A heart-stopping snarl filled the cabin as he cut me off. “I will examine your stallion in good time and when I feel like it! Not before!” The cabin was silent as a mausoleum for a moment before Dogenes said in a much calmer voice. “Now...the story. Tell it, Mister Hard Boiled.”
I quickly wet my lips as I tried to get a handle on precisely what was going on. Something about Dogenes unsettled me in an elemental manner. It might have been the way his bright green eyes seemed to pierce right into my brain, or the way that, despite his age and species, his teeth were white as snow. There was just something about him that was beyond my experience, and it left me unnerved.
“T-the story goes that you...I mean...if you’re Dogenes...that is...I…” I trailed off, then shook my head.
‘Be polite, Hardy. Don’t buck him into the wall. Limerence needs a healer, and you need a way of getting away from the Castle without being detected.’
“The...the story goes—,” I went on in a steadier voice, “—that about eighty years ago, Princess Celestia was trying to sign some kind of treaty with one of the Diamond Dog city-states on the borders of Equestria. She heard about a...a diamond dog philosopher who was very influential and wise. She wanted to meet him.”
The hound nodded for me to go on, a small quirk to one side of his mouth.
“So, she went to the city and asked where his house was. Every dog she talked to pointed her towards the marketplace, but she couldn’t find him anywhere. Eventually, she was frustrated and sat down on the side of a fountain. After a few minutes, she noticed a beggar was lying on his back in the water behind her. Turning, she smiled down at him and said, ‘Hello, there. I wonder if you could point me to Dogenes? I would very much like to meet him’. The beggar said, ‘I am Dogenes.”
“Princess Celestia was shocked. He was very dirty and smelled bad, so she asked, ‘Do you know who I am, Dogenes?’ and he said, ‘I know who you are, Celestia Sol Invicta.’ and she asked, ‘I’ve very much wanted to meet you and get some of your wisdom. Is there anything I can do for you?’ Dogenes rolled his eyes, lay back in the water, and scratched himself, then said, ‘You can get out of my light’.”
Dogenes snorted, loudly, then trudged across the little room and sat himself down on his cot, idly fingering the end of his cane. “A good rendition, yes. Too bad it leaves out what happened thereafter. I didn’t end up teaching at the School for Gifted Unicorns because I was impressed with that awful old nag’s shiny jewelry. Do you know, she proceeded to follow me around for two solid weeks? She ruled, so far as I could tell, by sending off magical missives. Two weeks without a moment to myself. She even saw me eat a sparrow off of someone’s eaves and, rather than being repulsed, sat down and began eating grass out of the gutter.”
“Princess Celestia ate grass from a gutter?!” Swift gasped.
“Ten years I’d been living in a beer barrel, and suddenly there’s the world’s most irritating alicorn sleeping on top of it,” the diamond dog grumbled. “Do you have any idea how hot having the living embodiment of the sun snoozing atop your home can make things? I tried everything. I yelled. I ignored her. I peed on her while she slept. I bought a prostitute and we did the deed right there in my barrel! Never had I met a more...unflappable creature.”
My partner sank onto the carpet. “You...peed...on the Princess.”
“Yes! And all the while, she...somehow kept drawing me into these debates,” he hissed, tapping his cane against the side of his head. “Maddening. At the end, she offered me a job teaching those disgusting little foals of hers to think. She even said I could bring my barrel. A part of me still wishes I’d thrown myself in the river, but she might have just fished me out.”
“How did you end up teaching my father ethics?” I asked.
“How does anyone do anything, fool? I got bored! I got bored and I allowed that vile, impenetrable, infernal brood-whore of a Princess to convince me to continue making myself useful to her!” Taking a step towards me, Dogenes waved a claw under my nose. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten your father, either, Mister Hard Boiled. If I could have given him a negative grade, I would have. He believed in right and wrong, but not once did he explain himself properly!”
“Hmm...Dad was never much for philosophy,” I mused, then sat down and lifted Limerence’s head. “Now, my friend?”
Dogenes gave me a contemptuous look. “Witless pool of diarrhea you are. Do you not recognize extreme magical burnout? He’ll regain consciousness in an hour or two with an incurable cluster-headache that will last exactly twenty hours. Expect sobbing, tearing of clothes, and probably at least one suicide attempt.” Reaching into the folds of his toga, he pulled out a capped syringe and held it out to Swift. “If you care for your friend, you’ll use the whole needle.”
“What is it?” she asked, taking it carefully in her hooves.
“You ponies call it ‘Ace’,” he replied, cooly. “It’s my personal flavor. A slow start, building to a pleasant high that will last all night.”
I rubbed the side of my head as Swift stared at the needle like she’d never seen anything like it in her whole life.
“Sir, this is...I...uh…illegal...and...I...law...but...needs...”
Taking the syringe from her shaking hooves, I slipped it into Limerence’s vest pocket, then gathered him into as comfortable a position as I could.
“It’s just cognitive dissonance, kid. Take some deep breaths, and we’ll find a paper bag for you to blow into.” I turned back to Dogenes who was slowly wagging his tail. “Now then, You could have had any of your people give me that. Why’d you really bring me down here?”
“Ah! The first actual thought he’s had today!” Dogenes chuckled. Drawing himself up, he held aside the curtain, revealing a tiny icebox, a single-pan stove, and a wooden counter with a plate sitting on it. The plate had a sandwich on it with a couple of strips of cooked meat sticking out of the sides. As soon as she saw it, Swift’s mouth started watering so badly she had to quickly wipe it on the edge of her body armor.
Picking up the plate, he held it out to my partner. “I could hear your stomach grumbling from outside,” he said.
“Oh! Really? Thank you!” she squeaked, sweeping the sandwich up and tearing off a chunk. I watched as the realization that he’d knowingly served a pegasus a plate of meat crept onto her face. She slowly began to spit out the bite in her mouth, but it was too late.
“Hmm...I thought so,” Dogenes commented, dryly. “Ran afoul of some strange magic, did you, little filly? No memory of it? Lovely teeth, by the way. Not so vicious as our other specimens, but still quite spectacular.”
I quirked an eyebrow at him. “Other specimens? You have other ponies—”
“Not ponies. Not anymore,” he interrupted, ducking through the curtain. I heard the sound of pawsteps ascending a staircase and realized we’d just been invited to follow him. Lifting Limerence onto the cot, I nosed the pillow under his head, laid the bag containing Mags beside him, and turned back to find Swift quickly stuffing the bacon sandwich into her muzzle. I must have given her a look, because she tried to speak around it.
“What? Ish bacon. Bacon ish magic!”
----
A steep, rickety spiral staircase ringed part of the curtained off section of Dogene’s home. I had to lean against the outer rail, since it hadn’t been designed with quadrupeds in mind. Swift just hooked a wing over, and I had another little twinge of pegasus envy.
“Sir, how did he know about my teeth?” Swift asked.
“He probably smelled the meat on your breath, kid,” I replied. “Diamond dogs have noses like you wouldn’t believe. Speaking of that, you might want to spend a little longer with the floss in the mornings.”
She quickly covered her muzzle with her hoof and breathed into it, sniffed, then wrinkled her nose. “Sorry, sir.”
“It’s fine. Taxi’s breath was worse when she was going through that buffalo cuisine phase,” I answered as we reached the top of the stairs.
The second floor of Dogenes’ home was significantly larger than the first. It looked as though the back of the giant cask had been cut away and the wall behind burrowed into to expand the space. Most of the room was occupied by a miniature field hospital, lit by low-hanging electric lights. There was a small private area with a raised bed behind a yellowish curtain. Three additional rolling tables were wedged against the wall, and sheets covered shapes that looked distinctly equine.
Dogenes was standing at a short sink nearby, washing his paws. He glanced up, then went back to soaping his forearms.
“It seems our patient has finally expired,” the hound murmured. “A pity. His mind was going, but I would have prefered he didn’t die alone. Still, it will make the examination easier. He tended to get a bit feisty from time to time.”
“Dogenes, what’s going on?” I asked.
Picking up his cane from where it lay against the sink, he hobbled over to the bodies lined up against the wall. “The ‘Underdogs’, as they fancy themselves nowadays, are what is left of the mining consortium from the diamond dog lands. They mined this city for decades, and now their old tunnels run through much of it. Sad to say, when I retired from teaching about twenty years ago, they were a dying breed, pissants and thugs, gem-addicted and squatting in this pit they’d found for themselves. No guiding philosophy.”
“And...you gave them that?”
He rested his paw on the sheet covering the closest corpse and sighed, “Not intentionally. Those yelping little pups found out somehow that I used to be a teacher in the homeland. They sat outside my door here until I started throwing things. Turned out I threw a few books on codes of police conduct and pegasus history. I told them ‘make up your own damn minds what you want to be’, and they took it to mean ‘be dogs’. Protect, serve, obey. Morons, the lot of them, but they wouldn’t take ‘go to Tartarus’ for an answer. It was either guide them with purpose or end up some sort of messianic figure.”
“I’m not sure but that you didn’t end up that way, anyway, ‘Praetor’,” I said, eyeing the bodies.
“Quite,” he growled. “That name is going to haunt me to my grave.”
“Speaking of ‘graves’, what am I looking at here? It looks like you’ve got, pardon me saying it, a morgue in your parlor.”
“It is a morgue, Mister Hard Boiled,” he replied, pinching a bit of fur sticking out of his ear and flicking it away. “What the Underdogs lack in reasoning skills, they more than make up for in noses and ears. Your name is on the lips of far more persons giving it far more importance than one lowly, if unusually accomplished, police patsy’s might usually warrant, hence...you may be familiar with certain acts of violence that’ve taken place within the city. Bodies found ripped to shreds and flesh consumed?”
I slowly nodded and took a few steps closer. “They’re calling them ‘Biters’ in most of the city.”
“Yes,” he agreed, running his paw over the sheet gently. “Commander Max discovered these poor souls buried in some of the abandoned buildings above our domain, recently. With the recent frequency of bloody death in the city, one might have overlooked it, but these were of particular interest. Not so interesting, however, as the sad individual that we discovered floundering through the basement along with them.”
Strutting over to the bed, Dogenes grabbed the curtain and tore it back.
Stats
Page generated in 0.048 seconds
Total duration
975 users online
63,179 hits today, 2,244,100 yesterday
FIMFiction
My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic Fanfiction
Designed and coded by knighty & Xaquseg - © 2011-2024
Follow & Support Us
Support us
SubStar
Chat!
Discord
Follow us
Twitter
MLP: Friendship is Magic® - © 2024 Hasbro Inc.®
Fimfiction is in no way affiliated with or endorsed by Hasbro Inc.®
i am having something of a hard time understanding what makes the biters so dangeorus.
murderous and well armed guards with fangs are definitely dangerous, but it seems odd that they are so capable of doing dso without resistance at all. no one has yet to overcome them when attacked so far. not even a room that had a practical legion of griffon warriors inside of it.
7687190 As I understand it, they're supernaturally fast and strong, can take multiple shots from conventional weaponry without flinching, and only need to get within touching range to shred someone into itty bitty pieces. They travel in reasonably large packs and always strike at unguarded and/or small groups. Which means that conventional police tactics are useless (small, well coordinated patrols), and that civilians have even less chances. They'd need a considerable force armed with heavy weapons to clear them out, but... Well, you know the story as well as I, no?
7687243 They also have the benefit of what seems to be extremely good intelligence on the movements of every potential target, courtesy of the Scry as well as at least one weapon which shoots through walls and armor.
-Chessie
7687243 albeit what qualifies as conventional in a magical pony police department? :P
which is part of my confusion honestly. they have numbers and tactical advantages at the same time, equestria is full of redonculous and powerful ponies. why would they only be isolated to prostitute ninjas and other such groups?
basically it a conflict between the logic of a task force of immense aggression and violence, with several tactical advantages, and the fact there is a shitload of ponies in this world that flip their sole, solitary digits at such a measly concept as logic and would ahve came out on top easily.
in what places does logic apply, and in what places does the magic of equestria decide the outcome?
7687360 It's a magical pony world. Find logic somewhere else. Enjoy the story, or don't, but don't ask the writer to justify everything before the story is finished.
-Chessie
7687248 as i mentioned before, i am just torn between the two factors.
the biters have a considerable tactical advantage and unreasonable levels of aggression.
but this is equestria. full of strange ponies and being, of varying levels of power. you got ponies like hardy who are more or less run of the mill.
then you have ponies like maud pie who could probably tackle a dragon with ease and quite possibly could be bullet proof........ that is just presumption on my part but she is so strong she can destroy buildings and boulders without having a scratch on her.
basically ponies who can overcome tactical advantages just by being overwhelmingly strong.
yall got almost completely invulnerable unicorns, a super ninja zebra with a nerve disorder. why wouldn't the detrot police department have a juggernaut or two that the biters can't handle?
eh mostly joking with that one. guess its that you ahve shown that there are some powerful and weird individuals out there, and i am wondering where the hell they all are at right now with the world in trouble and all that jazz.
7687369 that is not even the issue i have. its the illogical aspects of the world you created vs the logical aspects of the advantages the biters have that is my issue. and it may well be me not understanding a concept or two..
and i legitiamtely DO enjoy your story here. this here is just me trying to figure out a part i do not quite understand.
there is really only one singular, legitimate issue i have with the story...... but i am not gonna bring it up again here. partly cause that was something from many months and chapters ago, and because as of right now it hasn't impacted the narrative as a whole.
ther ewas one or two other issues i had but i ultimately filed them under personal views more than anything.
this is a good story....... and i am a damn stickler for good stories. but ther are defintiely things i do not understand so far for one reason ro another.
Trust me, i would be straight with ya if i didn't like the story.
Oh come on Hardy, it's not like they're having sex.
That's right Chessie, I don't believe they are having sex!
Even with her mouth full, this is one of the greatest things Swifty has ever said.
Also, am I the only one who thinks Dogenes is an asshole?
"and sky, provided food and"
""and sky, providing food and""?
"were equine kind’s soldiers"
"were equinekind’s soldiers"?
"stole over equine-kind; they"
"stole over equinekind: they"?
"and defend Equine kind have never"
"and defend equinekind have never"?
That's three different versions in two paragraphs. :D
Reminds me of my GM being deliberately inconsistent with things such as the plural of "zebra" so I don't have a standard to hold him to. :)
The whole chapter, was a smiling mess of good times. And dear heck, was this good, especially the snark. Swift and mags steal the show, even Lim has his moments.
I'm sorry, but dogness is just amazing for his lines and snark.
7687622 Yup, he is, but doesn't care. And basically sorta ended up doing through the sheer stubbornness of others into being who folks saw in him. He's still very much a knight in sour armor, but will at least respect folks who manage to impress him or standards.
Dogness is a canine version of Diogenes, you know the philosopher carrying a lantern in daylight looking for a honest man.
He was a total ass.
7687622 Look up the stories about 'Diogenes' and that will explain Dogenes somewhat.
-Chessie
7687756 I'm glad I'm not the only one who took first year philosophy!
-Chessie
7687379 The DPD does have a couple powerhouses. You have Chief Jade's ridiculous TK powers and Taxi (a former member) who can adapt to virtually any situation and have the skills required to succeed. Also, you can't rule out Hardy's luck, talent, and plot armor that have gotten him this far. Throw in Swift's partial Biter transformation and you've got a decent A-list roster for the DPD.
Okay. To start, that's done dirty pool leaving the cliffhanger there. Our first chance to see a real bitter and you drop out on us?
On the other hand, congratulations on making chapter 100! It's kind of hard to believe it's been going on for so long, but keep up the good work.
7687369 There is no way to get lordofmyth to stop complaining every chapter... if he's not demanding answers, then he is trying to enforce his own head cannon on other folks' stories. He was like this a lot for a popular video game/ponies crossover story I happen to be an editor/proofreader for, and he finally got blocked by the author after months upon months of his constant CENSURED and moaning literally every single chapter just because something wasn't going his way. Either block him (which I've found out numerous other authors have done) or just don't respond to anything he says.
*Claps his hands together* NOW, on to actual commentary on the story!
When I saw the chapter's title, I thought to myself "What are the odds he is gonna refer to a group of Diamond Dogs as the Underdogs?", to which the answer was "Most assuredly"! While I am vaguely disappointed there were no d-dogs named Shoeshine or Polly, the introduction of Dogenes (oh how Equestria's love of puns strikes again!) and the things he tried to do to get a certain sunny-flanked alicorn to leave him the OH SO CENSURED alone made up for it.
Now looking forward to the next chapter and hopefully learning more about the Biters.
Yes Swift, bacon is magic.
7688181 Oh. Alright. Yeah, I'm done with LOM's squawky shit. Blocked.
-Chessie
Great Chapter! Feels a bit like filler, though.
My running theory is that They dumped the scry into the water supply but that does not account for the diamond dogs (unless they are immune)
7688805 It's a good theory. Probably even true.
-Chessie
7688177 Chapter 100. I can barely believe that it's gone this long. I sincerely hope I finish it soon. I mean, shit is real here.
-Chessie
Dogenes.
Dogenes.
Dogenes!
7689046 It was SUCH an obvious pun when I thought about it..
-Chessie
So glad i'm catching up with thiss, I wish I could read faster!
http://pieceepone.deviantart.com/art/Noir-643502590 ^_^
7689274 There are a couple of scenes that are SUPER hardcore...and a few adorable things here and there. There's a big cuddle later on that's...both cute and creepy;.
-Chessie
My Little Piggy: Bacon is Magic featuring Twilight Porkle, Applehock and Porkie Pie.
7691002 Bacon is the essence, the core, the very center of being. It is that which binds the universe together.
-Chessie
7691120 Been Franklin was once quoted as say "Beer is proof God loves us and wants to be happy". I am sure that somewhere is a supplemental quote that reads "And bacon is proof God wants us to achieve greatness".
7687379
and there is the problem the biters attack where the juggernauts aren't.
7692493 God, that looks WAY more horrifying like that than I thought it would be. I mean, it's...heartbreaking.
Do you mind if I post everything you intend to do in one go?
-Chessie
7692536
Oh not at all!! post however you want! it's all for you and your story
7688272 OH MY GOD, THANK YOU! Reading his horseshit Every Chapter was giving me an aneurysm! I can't even imagine how you put up with it so long!
Also, I agree with Swift, Bacon Is Magic and I laughed my ass off at Dogenes and his Life of Brian-equese position. This story is the reason I check this site every day and I love the writing.
Love from Standing Rock, North Dakota
7692902 You're the best, Piece! The absolute best. Your art has always given me big smiles and sometimes big sads...and you just capture feelings like nobody else.
-Chessie
7692726 You'll apparently have to get in line. Swift's a fan favorite. There's SO much art of her!
7692920 I don't know either. I suppose I was hoping he'd stop being a prick at some point and realize he wasn't going to chance what or how I write. I guess not.
-Chessie
7698178 Considering the length? Yeah, maybe months.
-Chessie
I really want this to be completed so I can read through it non stop! The premise has me utterly enthralled!
7700738 Well, it's a serial. Think 'The Shadow' or something similar. Every chapter is kinda like an episode. They usually follow that kind of narrative structure.
-Chessie
Horses for your troubles.
This was a fun chapter.
Dat cliffhanger...
This comes to mind:
Diamond Dog culture have a rich history of philosophers spanning centuries. They wrestled with weighty philosophical issues such as "The Question of History", "The Question of Identity" and "The Question of Future":
- Where Do We Come From?
- What Are We?
- Where Are We Going?
Dogenes claimed that such questions were simple-minded musings of a pup, unworthy of his great mind and valuable time. When called into account before the Diamond Senate, he, with his typical lack of decorum, licked himself for a minute before answering "Over there, Diamond Dogs, and over here". A far more interesting question was "The Question of Morality", he claimed. He vowed to make this his and his disciples' life work, and then promptly relieved himself on the carpet in the middle of the chamber before dry-humping the Praetor's chair. Dogenes was later spotted carrying a lamp through the market and sniffing under the tails of all who passed by, claiming "I an looking for a good diamond dog".
Even ponies (indirectly) acknowledge his Moral Question as they continue to ask of their faithful canine companions and disciples of Dogenes "Who's a Good Boy?"
I can just see some awkward discoveries in the near future:
I galloped up to Swift's room and knocked on the door. Tonight was boardgame and drinks night and we need one more pony to make even for even teams.
No answer.
I glanced down at the door and saw a neat little sign with Swift's mouth writing sellotaped to the door: "The router is a-rockin', so don't come a-knockin'!"
The hay does that mean? I though to myself as I pushed open the door.
"Hey Swift! Taxi, Lim, and I are going to play Battle Parcheesi! You wanna play? We need one more pony so the teams—"
I stopped short when I actually saw what was in the room. Tourniquet was suspended from the ceiling at head height and Swift was gently cradled beneath her, muzzle to muzzle, belly to belly. Her wings... And the tubes wrapped around and inserted... And her legs...
My mind absolutely refused to resolve the tableau before me into something I could understand. I just stood there mouth gaping, frozen in shock. I think my mind rebooted twice. Taxi and Limerence found me shortly.
Taxi poked me in the shoulder with a huff "Hey Hardy! Equestria to Hardy! Did you ask Swift if she wanted— Oh my...!"
Taxi and Lim both stared in shock into the room with me.
Swift was encased in a cocoon/bodysuit made out of soft, translucent tubes sprouting out of Tourniquet's back. They gently cradled Swift above the ground, supporting her head and neck. Coiling around her limbs, slowly flexing and retracting her legs and wings, softly turning them this was and than. Sliding, coiling, rubbing over her body.
They had this disturbingly organic, slithering, writhing quality about them that made my pelt positively crawl. It was horrifyingly visceral I wanted to tear my eyes out, I did not know what I wanted to do.
Sweet Celestia! That looks like—
"Looks like one of those Neighpon tentacle mares, doesn't it?"
Taxi's comment jolted us out of our reverie. As if on cue, Swift gave a cute little sigh and a soft pleasured moan before hugging Tourniquet in a closer embrace. Limerence's face turned beet red with embarrassment as he magicked to door closed. As we beat a hasty retreat, he thoughtfully tapped his chin and pondered
" I wonder what she is dreaming of Detective?"
"I do not know. We may never know, and by the Sisters' good grace I intend to keep it that way!"
----
The sun shone weakly through the haze of smoke and dust, casting the blasted battlefield wasteland in a ruddy orange glow. Legion upon legion of bio-mechanical nightmares crawled, slithered, and shambled toward the battered redoubt where the last free Equestrians huddled in defence.
An actinic flash and peal of thunder later, their saviour teleported in, bedecked in a glowing combat flight suit of silver and blue like all righteous warriors of Truth, Justine, and the Equestrian Way. On her shoulder was a name-tag reading "Capt S. Cuddles", and on her flank were row upon row of black kill-silhouettes. Her mechanized combat suit was festooned with enough weaponry to start and win a small war.
The beleaguered defenders cheered as she heroically stared down the oncoming horde and exclaimed "I am here to eat rainbows and kick plot. And I'm all outta plot!"
Player 1 has Joined the battle!
7688181
There was zero need to prefix your comment that way. A story is not good merely by weight of words or basically sound plot concepts. There is something lost when things aren't internally consistent or seem not to be. Also, one can complain a lot and still have valid complaints. Whether or not that applies to this specific individual I can't really say. It's not insisting on the maintenance of one's own head canon to want things to make sense and this story has a heck of a lot of apparent randomness.
7702661
And there's the crux of the matter. You haven't checked out any of the multitude of posts LOM has made throughout this fic CONSTANTLY complaining, CONSTANTLY demanding explanations even if some are coming at a later chapter (this is a detective-noire mystery story, after all, so answers aren't going to be up front from the beginning), and CONSTANTLY trying to get the author to stick with his (LOM's) head canon and his head canon only. I've seen him do this towards Arad's story Mente Materia, where other readers have noticed his behavior too from other stories (heck, after he was banned from commenting on that other story, he literally created an alt account claiming he was a 'friend' of LOM to continue his complaints; that other account disappeared shortly after a site admin got involved, so take that for what you will).
Notice I never once suggested to Chessie to NOT listen to anyone's criticisms or negativity towards their story? Nor did I say they "have ban this person, that person and so and so". No, I just told them what I know of LOM's behavior from observation in another comment section, made my suggestion to either ban specifically him or to at least not engage him (advice that Chessie didn't have to take), and then Chessie decided from there what they wanted to do in regards to him.
Having differing viewpoints and offering criticism for an author is indeed a good thing. It can help them to know how to improve their craft and even think of things that they might not've thought of by themselves. But that's not what LOM was doing, no. Think of him like those loud, purposefully disruptive hecklers at rallies who scream and yell at the top of their lungs, demanding attention to hijack the conversation while detracting from those who might have something truly meaningful to add to the conversation/debate/whatever. So yes, there WAS a reason to 'prefix my comment that way': Sometimes you just have to let those in power know when enough is enough and then have 'security' drag them out of forum.
7702764 Who now?
Holy crap the Underdog reference only NOW dawned on me.
7719407 It's that kind of story, yes.
-Chessie
7723666 It...yeah...probably.
-Chessie
7725538 This...blessedly...is not my magnum opus. I have ideas for that actually. This is just practice.
-Chessie
One of the longest stories on fimfiction and one of the few who are almost completely oc and doesn't go off to luny land to progress the plot.
7736866 We knew the 'ending' from day one, but it's been a beast getting there and revealing everything that's actually happened between now and then.
-Chessie
Murder of a minor, or by one?
Hardy, I think you need about a hundred pounds of steel chain. Duct tape, for all its strengths, isn't strong enough to stop an enraged Taxi.
Twi should take him to Rarity's ghost to get fashion tips. I mean, why settle for anything but the best?
I want this. Mainly because the housing office would hate it.
I'm afraid to ask.
Little of both.
Limerence has had bad luck ever since he met Hardy. He’s been drugged, knocked out by that thing at the beginning of Act 3, used as a battery, his whole family’s been killed. Those are just the things I remember, there’s probably more.