Chapter 7: Guesses, Gripes and Grease
Chapter 7: Guesses, Gripes, and Grease
Equestria is home to a wide variety of sentient species, and there are very few of those species who don't collectively wish at least one other sentient species was dead.
Dragons used to step on a lot of toes, especially prior to the Cutie Mark Crusades. The belligerent, predatory griffins have had their scrapes with most of the other species at one time or another, such as the Griffin/Bovine War of 23 L.R.; Older cows, as of the time of this writing, still refer with dark bitterness to the battle at what is now called Hamburger Hill. Buffalo still look upon the encroaching borders of civilized Equestria with anger and mistrust, and there’ve been more than a few flare-ups at the outskirts. Zebras tend to unnerve ponies with either their bizarre alchemical mixtures, strange ceremonies, or eclectic tastes in interior decorating. Changelings are nearly universally reviled, due to their emotionally parasitic nature and statistically significant ick factor, and because all of Equestria is in significant trouble if they ever decide to make truly clever use of their powers.
One would think, then, that the wide variety of races that share space in Detrot would form the perfect ingredients for a fine powderkeg. One would not be wrong.
--The Scholar
After several awkward and sometimes regrettable knocks on various doors, I finally found a stallion who was unoccupied enough to direct me back towards the Vivarium’s main room. I still managed to get myself lost twice, and only by luck stumbled back over a part of the complex I remembered. My sense of direction isn’t great - one more reason the Chief keeps Taxi around me - and it's not helped when I'm breathing a pheromonal haze.
The bar was back in rave mode, which I determined when my nose started spontaneously bleeding from the bass line. The lovely soundproofing keeping the din from the recreational areas completely concealed the fact that the DJ was on full attack.
The room was full of dancing and grinding rumps bopping to the swollen beat; I swept a hoof under my muzzle, then tried to spot my companions. Swift was easy enough to pick out; she was brighter than some of the glowsticks hanging from various patrons. She was in a booth beside the bar, up to her ears in a milk-shake that could easily have passed for four or five meals for me, and was already scraping the bottom with her tongue.
I only recognized Minox when he moved. He blended into the background, slouched over several pillows beside my partner, with a canary yellow lap-ornament who had him halfway out of his shirt. His cuffs and tie were also undone, and my absolutely shameless driver was lazily stroking his chest hair.
Attempting to directly cross the densely populated dance floor was a bad move; I wound up dodging somepony with her mane done up to look like some sort of exotic bird, and in doing so almost caught a very comely unicorn’s backside in the face. I wound up winding my way around the edges instead. Taxi caught sight of me and poked Swift, who dropped her shake and began wiping stray bits of cream out of her mane and cheek-fur.
“Come on, you two. We’re going. We’ve got a few things left before this day is done.” I said, flipping my tail towards the elevator.
The cab pony put on a very sad face and pinched her lips together. If she hadn’t been at least one sheet to the wind, I think she might even have summoned up a tear or two.
“Awww... do we haaave to?” She whined.
“Yes, now kiss the beef and let’s get out of this place before my mane starts to stick to itself. I swear, I’m breathing sex fluids at this point.”
She shot Minox a lusty grin, then threw her forelegs around his neck and hit him with a kiss that would have killed a lesser being dead on the spot. Nopony’s tongue should have been able to do that. It just wasn’t natural.
Swift fluttered over to my side then covered her face with a wing, averting her eyes from the spectacle. She was nervously adjusting the straps on Masamane as she asked quietly, “Sir, is that... I mean, I’ve heard there were ponies who liked... but I never knew anypony who... you know... with a biped...”
“Kid, a thing to understand about Taxi is she doesn’t care what you look like, or how many legs you have.” I answered her, idly swiping a bit of her shake that she’d missed off of her ear and sucking it off my hooftip. “My friend has had Canterlot royals, griffin tribe-lords, and buffalo chieftains nosing around her flanks. I’m pretty sure she does it just for the reactions.”
“What do you mean, sir?”
I nodded in Minox’s direction. His pants were having a staggeringly obvious ‘reaction,’ and when Swift saw it, she ducked back under her feathers.
Long after decorum had been satisfied thoroughly, Taxi disentangled herself from Minox and tossed back the shot of whiskey on the bar. As we three trotted into the elevator, she turned and blew the dumb beast a kiss. He was still sitting there in the same position, dazed and smiling, his suit disheveled, and his tail coiled around his ankle. He did manage a tiny wave before the unicorn in the lift shut the door.
I breathed a sigh of relief as we made our escape from the Vivarium.
****
Once back in the car, Taxi lit another stick of incense and put some calming blues on the tape machine. The night was cool and pleasant. Isolated street-lamps spread pools of light and safety down the alleys and byways of The Heights as mothers called their foals in from their play and the twilight hours lent the buildings a melancholy glow. I stuck my head out the window, letting the wind ruffle my mane, and I listened to the city, as a lonely rickshaw driver sat in the back of his hack and played Taps on a much tarnished harmonica.
Swift, still lightly caressing her pretty new pistola, interrupted my reverie. “Sir, do you mind if I ask where we’re going?”
Taxi threw her head back. “Yeah, you got a destination, boss?”
“Don’t call me ‘boss.’” I groused. “Let’s go by Flying Iron’s place. You remember where it is?”
She gave the wheel a seemingly leisurely twist that had me grabbing the passenger handle to keep from tumbling over. “My arteries remember, yes.”
****
We pitched up on the curb beside the beaten, half rusted cart which sat out front of one of the city’s innumerable box-like ‘neighborhood recreation centers’ that were meant to be the salvation of our youth about ten years back. They’d become places for foals to smoke in the bathrooms and dealers to shell out their wares in relative safety.
A few young earth ponies ran around out front playing an improvised game of hoofball. These were a different breed from the couple we’d seen in The Heights; They had ribs showing and wore hand-me-downs when they wore anything at all. Ponies aren’t a particularly modest bunch, but a little makeup and a ribbon or two is considered making an effort. This lot had a mix of cheap earrings and uncut manes and fetlocks.
For all the ills the world had visited on this particular neighborhood, however, a saving grace had pulled up one day and stayed. The food cart outside was owned and operated by the meanest grease-slinger this world has ever seen. An obese, permanently jovial unicorn with a skill behind the griddle to match his temper when roused: Flying Iron. He’d become the center of local community that the much larger building behind him failed to be. On any given day you could see dozens of ponies lining up, getting a generous helping of hearty soul food and a bit of the latest gossip from their friends in one of the few agreed upon neutral grounds in the city.
The cart didn’t have a name, but a permanent stain of vegetable lard on the cement and the hoof-traffic worn pavement in front demarcated the zone between Flying Iron’s territory and the gangs. They respected him because he fed them - and because if you fought, screwed, or dealt near his stand or the nearby picnic tables, you quickly learned about an extension of his special talent; specifically that he could hit a pony upside the head at fifty paces with a pot of boiling grease. Never a pretty sight.
I introduced him to Swift; he gave her a hoofshake that left her fur matted, then turned to me.
“I ain’t seen you down on this end in too long, Hardy.” He commented, waving his cooking iron at me threateningly. “I’m gonna take offense one’a these days if you lose touch for too long and I’mma have to come looking for you!”
“I promise, I’ll come visit more. Got a new partner to feed! You know what pegasi eat like.” I said; he chortled as Swift turned a little pink.
“I do indeedy. Here, best have a proper meal then before you’re on your way. An extra sprig of parsley for you, Miss Taxi! I remember you’re a fancy sort.”
Taxi nickered in mock offense. “I’m as common as they come, Mr. Iron!... but thank you.”
He spooned out three massive portions of steaming fried hay onto paper plates, dropped the parsley on Taxi’s, and set them on the picnic tables. I passed him the bits with a generous tip.
He was the only pony I’d ever met who knew the secret of frying hay so it crisped but didn’t burn. It was a finer magic than anypony can do with a horn.
Swift stared at the meal in front of her like she’d never seen anything more sickening. It was dripping and the plate was almost transparent from the seepage. “Sir, is this actually food?”
“You ate a dead animal this morning, kid. You don’t get to have a fit over some nice, healthy hay. Besides, if you complain to the chef, he’ll hit you with one of those frying pans. Try it before you knock it.” I said then jammed my muzzle into the mound of sweetly spiced glory, watching as my partner took a cautious nibble. Ten seconds later she had fried hay in her feathers and her mouth was so full she looked like a mutant red squirrel storing nuts in it’s cheeks.
Taxi tried for a modicum of restraint, but whatever alchemy Flying Iron puts into his delicious speciality was too much; she too succumbed to the desire to gorge.
A few minutes later I was picking my teeth with a toothpick while Taxi made a vain effort to clean her hooves with a napkin. Swift lay on her back, a small, beached, carrot colored whale. The incredible powers of the pegasus’ digestive tract had been defeated at last.
I was in my contemplative mood, playing back a few of the things that’d gone on during the morning. “Alright, before I call it for this evening... kid, could I see your notes?”
There was none of the usual snap or ten-hut in her movements as she patted her vest pockets, then set the notepad on the table and went back to the position on her back with her rear legs in the air. “Oog... sir, please warn me next time...”
“Heh, somepony’s eyes are bigger than their mouth. You’re going to have a fun time on the shitter tomorrow.”
Our driver flicked a seed into my mane. “Don’t be crude.”
I adopted an expression of facetious shock. “Moi? Crude? Coming from miss ‘I’m-gonna-have-mouth-sex-in-public?’”
Taxi didn’t even bother with a reply but patted her full belly. “Totally, totally worth it.” I wasn’t sure if she was referring to the meal or not, but I knew if I asked, I’d get nothing more than an amused smile.
Flipping open the notebook I found page after page of carefully annotations. “Jeez, kid... You’ve got a good eye.”
Swift sluggishly put her hooves behind her head. “I write when I have a spare minute. Do you think it’ll be enough for my report to the Chief tonight?”
“Report to the Chief?” I asked, warily.
“I...” She swallowed sharply then decided the cat was out of the bag. “Sir, Chief Jade asked me to report on our activities.”
“No surprise there.” I dragged myself upright, putting my chin on the table. “I think wisdom dictates you leave out a few essential facts about your heritage, Miss Stella, and how we got our lead. Make something up but please, keep it believable and make it boring if you can. If you tell her the complete truth you’re setting yourself up for a Section 8.”
Swift’s jaw worked soundlessly. “Sir, you want me to lie to the Chief?”
I reached over the table and prodded her cutie-mark. “Do you want to be a cop? You can explain to internal affairs why our first stop was a whorehouse-”
“Night club and escort service!” She insisted.
“Fine, ‘night club and escort service.’ You can explain why we’re helping your family of professional sex workers and part-time ninjas with this spy business without getting in touch with Organized Crime. You can tell them all about your relationship with the deceased’s employer. While you’re at it, tell them about the blackmail and the spy. I’m sure that won’t go up the line and cause someone with clout to call down that dragon-hunt faster than you can say ‘Bad Eyeliner.’ Kid, trust me, what the Chief doesn’t know can’t hurt us. You’re the writer here. Come up with something that won’t get us put on administrative leave pending psychiatric evaluation, or worse, cause the thing we’re trying to prevent.”
Still looking very uncomfortable, Swift glanced at the pen and sword on her hip before slipping into sulky resignation. “I think I can do that, sir.”
I flipped to the page regarding the club security system. “Hmmm... you know, most clubs I’ve been into have maybe a couple of protection spells, but nothing this extensive. Can you explain to me how it works?”
Swift shook her head. “I don’t really know, sir. Most ponies don’t even know there are protection spells in the back rooms, much less that they can be monitored. I only know because Gran... well, she’s chief of security and was always chasing me down if Scarlet and I tried to get into things we shouldn’t have while mom was working.”
I swept my coat free of bits of my dinner. “I know unicorns get a sensation in their horns when moving through magical fields, so we’re likely dealing with at least one. Probably a specialist of some kind.”
Taxi pulled at her lower lip a few times then added, “Well, the spies aside, King Cosmo is what we should be worried about. If he did hire them and they were looking for somepony in particular, then whoever it was either had something he wanted or could provide him with something. He might come off as a thug, but that’s just the surface. He didn’t get where he is by being incautious.”
“And yet he lures Azure Rose, or whatever her name is, out to a major hotel and leaves her dead in an alleyway where anypony can find the body?”
“Does Cosmo sound like the kind of pony to pull a hit himself? He’s at least powerful enough to have ponies for that. Maybe one of them got sloppy?”
“Maybe. Regardless, Rose sounds like she was running from something.” I said, thinking out loud. “Isolationism mixed with loneliness is something usually seen in ponies who’re used to socialization and suddenly find it dangerous. Could easily have been him she was running from.”
Taxi murmured, “The only reason the Jewelers haven’t managed a citywide takeover is the Cyclones. If he were to manage something like eliminating the Stilettos, he might really move up in the family to major kingpin. That or he might just be looking for blackmail material to extort Miss Stella or the customers and not know that the Stilettos are the force behind the survival of the Heights. Either way, King Cosmo is playing with fire.”
There was a worry. While it seemed nopony outside of the Vivarium really knew of the Stilettos’ role in the city power structure, the thought of the Jewelers suddenly owning one of the largest suburbs in the city was pretty nerving by itself. The Cyclone Crew survived largely on raw numbers and youthful bravado; the Jewelers were significantly fewer, but rich and well equipped. Having the Heights under their hoof would give the Jewelers a gigantic recruiting ground, tipping the balance of the underworld entirely. They might even have resources to move out of Detrot and begin to infect other cities.
“Alright, so if we’re handling this ourselves, I want to know everything I can about King Cosmo. Call Telly and have her tap the File Cloud to send down everything you can related to him and ‘Azure Rose.’ Try to keep it quiet if you can. If you tell her to keep it off the books, she’ll keep it off the books.”
Taxi pulled the notebook over, turned back a few pages, and pointed to the notes from the crime scene. “The forensics units report is probably not going to tell us anything we don’t already know, but Slip Stitch will have it.” She said, tapping on the lines detailing the blood stains.
Tugging my tie off I stuffed it into a pocket. “I want to see Slip Stitch first thing, before we go and handle this little errand for the lizard.” My driver groaned loudly; Swift was quickly slipping into a food coma and didn’t notice. I continued, “He’ll have the coroner’s work-up on Jane Pony done by then. I’m hoping and praying we get positive ID from the apartment or the records search. If not, we’re back at square one with a whole pile of fresh problems.”
It was a full half hour before Swift could fly; the night had well and truly set in by the time we found a skyscraper willing to let her use the roof for a take-off. I entertained a momentary worry I was about to see a pegasus misjudge her own maximum flight weight, but she managed a solid take-off with only a bit of wobble before catching a low thermal and sailing out of sight.
****
Once more in the car, Taxi tapped the radio dial and a sweetly sultry mare’s voice spilled out of the speakers.
“-listeners! This is your lady of the waves, your queen, your empress of the evening: Gypsy! Welcome to Ever Free Radio! All the news the newspapers think you’re not fit to know!
“Alright ladies and gentlecolts. It’s that time again! Now, I know ya’ll think I’m some kind of crazed, horny succubus riding the airwaves to satisfy my own ego... well, I’m here to say ‘Yes! Yes, I am!’ Your love and adoration is what keeps me going, my beautiful listeners. I’d get on my knees and kiss every one of your hooves, claws, and toes right here, right now if I could. “
I bumped the seat-back. “Hey, what is this?”
“It’s Gypsy.” Taxi replied. “You haven’t heard of her? She’s a pirate radio station that all the cabbies listen to. She does mostly unfiltered news reports. Mayor Snifter wants her head on a plate after she broke that story last year about his wife getting high as a kite on Beam and running through Celestial Park demanding the trees make dirty love to her. He tried to cover it up and Gypsy was the only one with the whole story.”
“No kidding... that was this pony? She sounds crazy.”
“You’re not wrong.” As she turned up the volume, my ears perked and I sat forward to listen.
“Tonight before we start the evening musical line-up I’ve got yet another Manifesto from those whacky, wicked Cyclones. This’ll be, what? The sixth one we’ve received this month? Those nutters are single-hoofedly keeping the local mail-mare employed.
“Now listeners, normally I wouldn’t deign to put this trash on my show because frankly, these ponies repulse me and should be sterilized with a rusty spoon, but I feel you need... nay, deserve... the truth of what’s out there.
Paper shuffled and the voice coughed then put a hoof over the mic and yelled, “Hey! Where on earth is that stupid thing we got from the Cyclones?”
A male voice came back: “It’s in the bottom of the bird-cage!”
“Ahhh, thanks. Okay, I’ve got it here. Lemme just hit the highlights. There’s a bit of poo on it so I’ll make this short or Copernicus is going to get very testy since I’ve stolen his bathroom.” A canary shrilled in the background.
“Yes, Copernicus, I’ll get you your toilet back in a minute. Here we go! Blah, blah, blah, we’re mighty morons... here, this is the bit I want to read to you.
“We are the Cyclone. We are the oncoming storm which will sweep away the injustices perpetrated against ponykind by the lesser species, the buffalo, the zebras, and the griffins, and bring a new order to Equestria with freedom for all ponykind. We have the weapons, if only we have the will to use them. With lightning and fire, we’ll go on the offensive and there will be no fiend or false friend who will dare oppose us.
"The zebras and their foul, unnatural magics, the griffins and their rigid militarism, and the buffalo and their backwards mysticism will all find new places in this order, but above all they will serve ponykind and no longer their foolish, selfish interests.
“The worst transgressors, the Detrot Police Department, will be dissolved and their criminal syndicate of tax-funded thugs will be hung from the lamp-posts and the tops of buildings to be left to rot for their crimes. They suppress the people! They are the very instrument of oppression.
“We are your future and ladeedaadeedah... it goes on like that for three more pages. Heeere Copernicus! Something for you to urinate on besides my bloody slippers.” There was a sound like a stream of liquid hitting a hot frying pan.
"There’s a good boy. Before you mistake my intention here, I just want to say the only reason I’m giving any air-time to these maniacal cretins is to make a salient point; I’m from Detrot. I was born here and this is my city. I might not have been around during the founding but I damn well appreciate the presence of the other species.
“Griffin mercenaries gave their lives fighting dragons. They threw themselves into the jaws of beasts a hundred times their size to keep us alive so our town could flourish. They helped us lay the groundwork for the PACT.
“The buffalo came hundreds of miles off their normal stomping grounds at Princess Celestia’s behest to stampede the Wilderness flat so we could plant our crops. Their teachings on agriculture let us build a home in some of the harshest land Equestria has to offer. Some even stayed and made our home theirs.
“The zebras, our friends from across the sea, helped us with the first workings of the Shield. They were the seed on which all our research into alchemy was built. If you enjoy your car or your magical lights, you have the zebras to thank.
“We paid them, yes, but when I hear of a poor striped pony mare with a zebra for a mother and a pegasus for a father having half her face kicked in because she dared go out at night in the wrong neighborhood, I feel ashamed! You hear me?! I feel ashamed to call this city mine.
“You ‘Cyclones’ might claim to be champions of the downtrodden, but you’re nothing but a lot of gutless pissants who can’t get it up without stomping some poor mare’s head. I’ve known champions. My mother fought in the Cutie Mark Crusades, and when the dragons sued for peace she got off her war-scooter and she shook claws with them!
“My listeners, you can do better. I wouldn’t want to live in a Detrot without buffalo, zebra, or the griffins. If ever you’re tempted to follow these gormless father-screwing bastards or you level a resentful thought at our friends in their enclaves, remember this; they gave those advantages willingly and died so you would have a chance at life.
“Whatever you might achieve with technology, that’s a debt you’ll never repay. Now, from Luna’s fifteenth return party, this is the song that rung in the night. My mother was friends with the singer and can report first hand there was not a dry eye in the audience.”
The music was an old and beautiful tune about some dumb stallion who fell in love with the moon. Pretty, and just the thing after the kind of day we’d both had. I decided it was as good a time as any to broach a subject that was probably littered with emotional landmines.
“Sweets?”
Taxi swiveled one ear back in my direction and asked sharply: “Do you really want to talk to me about this right now? I’m shagged out, and if you try to interrogate me just to satisfy yourself, we’ll just end up peeved at each other again.”
“Dammit, you don’t even know what I’m going to ask!”
Her contradiction started as a fierce tug on the handbrake. She pulled us at full speed into a hundred and eighty degree turn in a ‘No U-Turn’ zone, and most of my organs tried to slide right into my ankles. “You’re going to ask me why I was such a tall drink of steamy hot piss this morning.” She said, completely certain.
I opened my mouth to rebut then my jaw snapped shut. She was right of course. Even thirty years on, I knew only a tiny percentage of went on in my best friend’s brain, but she could read me like a hundred hoof high billboard.
Chastened, I said replied more gently. “Fine, then we’ll skip the interrogation and the hoofscrews. Sweets, please tell me what’s bothering you.”
For a minute, I was certain she was just going to leave me sitting there chewing my cud or worse, dump me on the side of the road. It wouldn’t have been the first time I’d earned a long walk back to my apartment.
When she did speak, she sounded terribly subdued. “You take a look at the calendar when you got off the couch this morning?” She asked.
“I can’t say I did. I’ll say it’s a little disturbing you know where I slept last night.”
“What can I say? You come out looking like somepony tossed you down the stairs and I put two and two together.” She shook out her braid and tapped a bobblehead doll of a lavender unicorn on the dashboard. I’d never bothered to ask about it’s significance, but in times of stress she’d give it a poke for inspiration. “You remember back when your dad died?”
My tongue felt several sizes too large all of a sudden. That was an unexpected turn. I’d been new to the force when my father died. He gave me his gun and six months later, he was gone. It’d been one of the few times in the intervening years I’d seriously considered quitting. It never occurred to me that the event would have affected my yellow friend near as deeply.
“I... yes. You vanished for about three weeks after the funeral. What does this have to do with today?” I murmured, confused. “The date he died was six months ago.”
She lowered her ears. “When bad things happen, my first instinct is to run. Whenever my parents would fight, I’d come over to your place.”
I bobbed my chin affirmatively, warming inside at the memory of many late nights where I’d awoken to Sweet Shine tossing rocks at my window. I usually pulled her in by her forelegs and we’d sit with hot chocolate or a bag of cookies until she was calmed down. After the initial tears, she’d give me one of her big smiles and a hug. Those genuine smiles had become rarer down through the years. I found I missed them.
“Go on.” I said encouragingly.
“The day I lost my cutie marks is coming up. I know I shouldn’t go through life accumulating these terrible anniversaries, but damnit...”
I rested my knees over the drivers seat. “Are you going to finally tell somepony what actually happened? I know the board accepted that load of horse-apples you fed them because you’d lost your handler and you were so covered in bandages you looked like a mummy. I know you better. You were too careful to get ‘made’ when you’re undercover.”
We were nearing my apartment. The evening streets were a comforting embrace into which I could sink and let go of my worries. Death could wait until the morning.
Taxi threw a pensive look at me. I could have sworn she was about to say something but then the accursed peace swept down on her features like a hammer and the brief window was closed again.
“Nevermind. I’ll be fine, Hardy. I just need a few days. I won’t let it affect the work.”
Damn...
****
The remainder of the drive had given me time to reflect.
By the standards of Equestrian policing, things were going well enough. We had a name on the decedent, all of the body parts were in one place, and cause of death was pretty surely nailed down. Those might all seem rather basic to creatures that live in areas of lower ambient magic, but in the areas around the Wilderness I’d seen bodies which were only dead on the basis that they weren’t breathing. Thankfully, zombie-ponies aren’t common, or I’d surely have lost my mind a long time ago; determining the time of the murder is a pain in the flank when witnesses swear they saw the victim walking around three days after they were shot.
Taxi left me outside of my building. I got out and turned to say goodnight, but she’d already blasted off around a bend at near top speed, the cab’s alchemically enhanced engine throwing arcs of arcane energy into the pavement underneath it.
I’d spent too much of the day with Juniper on my mind. Glow’s reminder was about as welcome as the Chief’s. I could practically feel my brain revving up to deliver a one-two punch of bad dreams and shitty sleep.
I turned the key to my apartment, all but bucked open the door, then yanked off my coat and threw it across the chair. The couch was calling, but there were necessities.
I pulled a beer out of the kitchen, hooked it under my front teeth, popped the cap off, then took a deep refreshing swig. It washed the flavor of the office, the Luna-damned sex club, and the gory crime scene out of my muzzle. It wasn’t a great taste, but it was a taste that could be relied upon. Too many uncertainties. Beer is certain.
I decided I needed some more certainty and had a second one, then a third to make sure the second was as sure as it could possibly be. It mixed with the fantastic dinner to produce a pleasing heaviness in the gut. Tomorrow would be another day and probably just as mad as this one had been. Such is life in Equestria.
I slept, and though I woke panting in the middle of the night, I was too drunk by then to remember what terrors my imagination had conjured up.
It was a good night.
Stats
Page generated in 0.038 seconds
Total duration
1,003 users online
168,449 hits today, 2,561,572 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.®
... Well, shucks. And that's your first ponyfic, isn't it, guys?
Looking back at mine, I can only think of reenacting the Falcon wingshake-of-honorable-defeat scene from May the Best Pet Win.
My brain is not in the best shape for finding proper adjectives at the moment, so I'll just settle for 'awesome'. Keep it up - and it's worth noting that you haven't failed to do so ever since Chapter 1.
And another entertaining chapter, albeit a bit shorter than previous ones. Why are good stories always addictive?
Well, at least it doesn't look like this one is going to end anytime soon.
Hee! Unshorn fetlock hoodlums!
I LOLed when I read 'war scooter'. I wonder if you will be going into the time of canon characters in this story? If not, I'd love to see a one-shot with more about this epoch....
1236745 Yeeeah, but you only had to wait a week for this one! And no, definitely not ending anytime soon. We created it to be more of a serial, like the stories were a hundred years ago. Many writers got their start writing month to month in magazines catering to a particular genre. It's kinda sad that format died out but thankfully with stuff like Fimfiction and EQD we can resurrect it!
1236710 This is actually the first long story I've ever tried to write. I think the longest story prior to this was about 20,000 words and I never finished it. Having someone looking over your shoulder (Kasen), keeping you on track, and making sure what you do output is worth reading does wonders.
1236756 Heehee... yup! I couldn't very well put them in hoodies, could I?
1236992 Honestly? Feel free to write it. This story is mostly about the events surrounding Hardy, Taxi, Swift, and an as yet to be revealed pony (You can get some stuff on him in the bumph). If what you come up with is really cool it might end up in the main story.
-Chessie
My mother fought in the Cutie Mark Crusades, and when the dragons sued for peace she got off her war-scooter and she shook claws with them!
Oohhhh shitson! There's a new story all on its' own.
...
My mother was friends with the singer and can report first hand there was not a dry eye in the audience.”
ONLY 5K WORDS?!?!?!
Im sad
1237478
A story with its initial origin in a 3:00 AM trip to a mediocre Denny's. But a story we do plan on telling slightly more of.
1237484
Hey, you only had to wait half the amount of time! Chapter 8 will be in two weeks as usual and full length.
--CEO Kasen
1237504
Oh, right. I'm horrible at keeping track of dates so i thought a week had passed already.
Well then, yay.
Every time a new chapter of this comes out, I squee.
Starlight over Detrot is best fic.
I want this story to last forever.
wow... I am totally floored by this magnificent story! In a pool of already exceptional talent you stand out like a very bright beacon - different genre I know, but easily (if not better) as talented a story teller as kkat and a couple of the other fanfic greats.
You've really brought this story to life so well, I feel I'm actually there rather than just being a 3rd party reading a detailed but detached chronicle.
Please continue, I'm anticipating the next chapters as much as I am anticipating FIM season 3!
1263080
Celestia's quantum testicles. That... is not light praise.
What more can I say but "Thank you?"
Heck, to all of you, come to think of it. My collected gratitude could not be more pronounced if Fluttershy herself had kicked a tiger's ass to cover mine.
--CEO Kasen
What my somewhat crude partner in crime is trying to say is... thanks. 1263080
You guys all keep us going. Every comment on every chapter makes the next one easier to write. I promise you one of the COOLEST (if most disturbing) chapters yet on next release.
After that, we're gonna start working in some action too.
-Chessie
1246186>>1240141>>1237595
1263636
Hey it's a two way street buddy. You write your story because of our comments, while we comment because of the amazing story you write.
On another side note, Halloween is coming up soon. Is there going to be a Halloween special? Oh man I would love it if Taxi and Swift dragged Hardy to go trick-or-treating. I wonder what costumes they would wear?
1263795 You know, that's a GREAT idea. I think I may do a quick, one off non-cannon short about a Nightmare Night Party at The Castle. I'll think about it and get back to you.
-Chessie
1263636 So if i made an infinite number of comments would that mean you'd make the story last forever?
Must find a way to live forever.
brb
Also Taxi, Hard boiled and Swift playing cards would love to see. Read even.
1264220
Awesome! While your at it think of something for Christmas!
I vote Taxi dresses like a firetruck and Swift dresses up as a dragon. Hardy could dress up like a cop just cause he doesn't care.
The "She" here shouldn't be capitalized, assuming that "she whined" is descriptive of the sentence that comes before it and not something she did after she spoke.
Two things: One, the punctuation next to "boss" should be outside the single quote. Two, the punctuation should be a comma to indicate that "I groused" is attached to the quote.
The quote should end in a comma, and "He" shouldn't be capitalized.
The quote should end in a comma to attach it to the "I said".
"It's" should be "its", since expanding it to "it is" doesn't make sense in this context. Also, I love the description here -- it had me cackling like a fiend.
This should be "careful annotations" or "carefully annotated somethings", as "carefully annotations" doesn't parse.
"She" shouldn't be capitalized.
Pretty "nerving"? The context seems to suggest that "unnerving" is the word you're looking for, unless you mean that the protagonist is more focused and collected after thinking about the mob taking over a large suburb.
This doesn't parse unless you put a "were" between "but" and "rich".
I'm really looking forward to hearing more about these, as they've been mentioned several times now. Hopefully they aren't just a Noodle Incident.
The quote should end in a comma, and the "She" should be uncapitalized, since it's a dependent clause.
The "She" shouldn't be capitalized.
The "it's" should be "its", since replacing it with "it is" doesn't make sense. Also, a pseudo-religious figure of Twilight? Interesting.
Gypsy reminds me of Three-Dog from Fallout 3. Was that on purpose?
...
...Huh...
...Well...ain't that interesting...
Huh, I wonder if Gypsy is a changeling?
Im not trying to spoil anything here, first time reading, but might gypsy's mother be scootaloo?
Nothing like a ballistic lump of iron and a miniature BLVE to keep the riff-raff in line.
It's what my cutie mark is telling me!
What sorcery is this?! I MUST know!
The impassioned plea of every writer here...
That feeling when you realise you are an open book; large print edition at that.
I do not envy Hardy the trials he will inevitably face in the bathroom after those greasy hayfries congeal into a solid mass in his GI tract...
4064672
You may already know the answer (no spoilers please!), seeing you are nearly 3 weeks ahead of me at time of comment, but my money is on Telly being Gypsy, what with her Mel Blanc routine earlier at the station.
4145174
It certainly looks that way with the details about Glow, the war scooters, and the singer. It is stilll too early to say for certain though; I would not put it past CKaC to leave all sorts of red herrings in the story...
Chapter 7: "Guesses, Gripes and Grease" -I do not think that this one is a reference to anything. I could be wrong though.
And I almost prefer shorter chapters.
Anything over 10,000 just makes me put off reading it for a bit.
This is not to say that I'm afraid of a super long chapter, iv spent 4 hours reading a chapter of 40K before(in one sitting), Its just a lot more convenient to spend an hour reading 10k.
But I digress.
I thank the heavens this story is so long.
Means I don't have to wait.
Sorry for taking such a long break, hectic things happened! But I'm back now!
Taxi is still best pony. Very glad we're finally out of that brothel. And now we have pony Nazis. Can't say I'm surprised, honestly. Who's betting there's more to them than it seems at the moment?
Also, Cosmo is such a silly name for a big bad. I love it. I also doubt he's really the big bad.
-GM, master of finally doing more word research.
10038882
Welcome back! Glad to have you reading, again.
-Chessie
Jeez, I've only gotten this far and already the oscillating wind device is covered in fecal matter? I have a long road and very, very many horse words ahead of me.
10038882
*deadpan*
oh come on, the cyclones aren't as bad as the Nazi's...
At least the cyclones are letting them live
4153845
Hey Sig. :D
Want your own Who's who page in my blog? I think I've got a comment of yours every chapter so far :D
Uh huh, and let me tell you, its strickly based off this story, so its marked as NSFW
1246186
With pinkie pie as an icon, i can see you saying that... but in a creepier voice.
Ah a changeling of course. You think you’re slick, eh?