• Published 5th Jul 2012
  • 3,556 Views, 74 Comments

A Study In Rainbows - Thanqol

Mystery, humour, fashion and crime!

  • ...

Chapter Seven: Reichenbach Falls

Chapter Seven: Reichenbach Falls

By Thanqol

Rarity levitated over a cloth and began to soak up the spilled coffee as I stared in shock.

"But Rarity, we solved the case! Twilight Sparkle was the poisoner; we caught her in the act!"

"Dash, I know Twilight," Rarity said, staring through her orange glasses at the tear she was looking at, "She is certainly smart enough to come up with a plot to poison the four greatest fashion ponies in Equestria, but even at her angriest she would never, ever try to frame Pinkie Pie for it. And if she did, which is impossible, certainly not in such a clumsy way."

"What are you saying?" I said, mouth agape.

"I am saying that Twilight Sparkle has no way of accessing the rare and exotic Zebrican plant, "Poison Joke". I am saying that Twilight Sparkle has no motive for framing Pinkie Pie. I am saying that Twilight Sparkle would not employ the Apple family to attack you in the street." Rarity said, turning to face me.

"You knew about that?" I said, having previously hoped to keep the details of that particular failure from Rarity's ears.

"Rope burns on the legs, and yet you still had your money afterwards? It was apparent. There was something else at work there."

"A third voice did speak to me, when I was down," I admitted, "warned me away from the Detective business."

"And that voice is, no doubt, the one behind all of this. That figure is the one who set this whole chain of events in motion. And I have no doubt that we shall confront this mastermind at Sweet Apple Acres," Rarity said, putting away her sewing tools, "And I must again thank you, Rainbow Dash. Were it not for your run in with Applejack this entire layer would have passed me by as naught more than an inexplicable mystery. Thanks to you, I am now certain of where this criminal resides."

"Rarity! You compliment my failures far too much!" I protested

"Imagine what it must be like to please me then," Rarity said with that easy smile as though there was naught in the world the matter. "Now, I shall fetch you another cup of coffee and we shall head across presently."

I had to pause to marvel at Rarity's courage; she was prepared to walk into Sweet Apple Acres and the heart of this mysterious schemer's power, and her only concern was picking which hat she wished to wear. Rarity decided we should walk, even though I was having reservations about the stormy clouds overhead. While I personally had no fear of wet weather, I was concerned for the state of Rarity's hat, and I only just now realize the sissiness of that sentiment.

We opened the farmyard gate and made our way towards the bright red barn unmolested. Rarity was quiet, something I found slightly unsettling after having become accustomed to her constant light banter. I felt the mood chill as we reached the barn and heard only silence from inside.

"Ah, it seems we are expected," Rarity said, indicating a note stuck to the farmhouse's front door. I took it and, as was becoming my habit with Rarity's mail, read it aloud.



You crossed my path on the fourth of January, on the twenty-third you incommoded me; by the middle of February I was seriously inconvenienced by you; at the end of March I was absolutely hampered in my plans; and now, at the close of April, I find myself placed in such a position through your continual persecution that I am in positive danger of losing my liberty. The situation is becoming an impossible one.

I am quite sure that a pony of your intelligence will see that there can be but one outcome to this affair. It is necessary that you should withdraw. You have worked things in such a fashion that we have only one resource left. It has been an intellectual treat to me to see the way in which you have grappled with this affair, and I say, unaffectedly, that it would be a grief to me to be forced to take any extreme measure.

This is not danger. It is inevitable destruction.


"This is he!" Exclaimed Rarity, "Long have I seen his hoof at work as I plied my trade. He whispers lies into the ears of ponies, he manipulates siblings and orchestrates betrayals. Had he his way he would turn everypony against every other, and end friendship between any except himself. A dangerous colt, and cunning."

"Ah, see there is a post script," I said, turning the letter over," "If you wish to pursue this matter to its most inevitable conclusion, meet me at Reichenbach Falls." Why, that is in the Everfree Forest!"

"My good friend Rainbow Dash, I must go after him. To allow this miscreant the pride of scaring me away I can not endure, even if it means walking into his trap."

"I feel the same. There is little I would prefer than to settle my argument with Applejack," I agreed.

Together we walked through the vast and empty apple orchards and into the looming darkness of the Everfree. It towered above us, primal and raw, as though it would consume all fashion, all civilisation, all life. And yet, Rarity went in, like a seraph carrying a lantern into the darkness. I followed. How could I not?

The walk was long, the woods misty and cold. The weather was untended, somehow managing itself with neither the blessing of Celestia nor the labours of the Pegasus Ponies. A miniature Zebrica within the heart of Equestria. Creatures dwelled in the undergrowth that set our manes on edge, but we stayed on the trail and were fortunate in the peace we encountered.

Finally, we emerged onto the hill above Reichenbach Falls. The rocks were cold, wet and muddy. A river of thick, black tar flowed from some terrible crevasse deep in the mountains. It flowed right to the edge where it poured off in a long, sticky flow, dripping like treacle, filling an enormous lake of the vile black stuff. Here and there along the riverside were twisted, dead trees. And there, standing right by the side, looking into the distance was a figure in a dark cloak and hat.

Cautiously, we approached. The wind this high was cutting, and though I was used to it, Rarity had to lower her head to make progress. The walk towards that isolated, cloaked figure seemed eternal, but neither of us were willing to dignify him by calling out to him.

"Are you familiar with the liquid in this river?" said he, gazing off into the distance, as we made our way cautiously closer.

"It is a type of tar that is singular in its stickiness. It never, ever washes out. It never, ever comes off," the cloaked figure went on. "The last pony who fell into the stream had to be shaved bald."

He turned around dramatically, and we got our first true look at this mastermind, this manipulator, this evildoer, this blackguard!

He was a purple baby dragon, in a top hat and cape, with a luxurious black moustache that looked like it was held together with the very oily black tar that flowed in the river. He let out a cackling laugh and a gout of green fire from his mouth.

It ignited prepared lines of black tar we had not seen, and encircled us each with a ring of fire. I spread my wings and began to fly but, too late again, realised that was the motion the concealed Applejack had been waiting for. A lasso caught me around the midsection and dragged me to the ground.

"Got her, Spike" Applejack was telling the dragon as I shook stars from my eyes. "Should I dump her in the river?"

"No!" said the dragon, Spike, said, "That is not nearly complicated enough! Dangle her from that tree and slowly lower her in!"

"Dangle her - what?" Applejack said, "That seems mighty complex for no good reason."

"Just do it! There's a way to do these things!" The dragon said, and the orange earth pony shrugged. In short order I was dragged into place, hooked over a tree branch, and Applejack began slowly lowering me head-first towards the bubbling black tar.

Meanwhile, Spike had turned his attention towards the trapped Rarity.

"It has been such an elegant dance, my sweet," he was saying, twirling his moustache, "I, the most dangerous criminal, and you, the foremost champion of law. It has been almost intimate, how well we have come to know each other's minds. Every crime, every scheme was set up with the intent of testing your abilities, and I was not disappointed. Each trial you overcame, and proved yourself all the more worthy to be my girlfriend."

Rarity scoffed, "Your girlfriend! The nerve!"

Spike growled, stepping closer to the ring of fire. "I am the Napolecorn of Crime! I am Spike the Terrible! I am the mastermind behind every crime worth noting of the past two years, and I have made your career! Without me, where would you be? Sitting at home in Baker Street, unravelling petty mysteries about glowing dogs? No, Rarity, you NEED me. I am the Luna to your Celestia; the Trixie to your Twilight; the Spiky Masher Plate to your Aristotle. Without me... you are nothing."

Rarity did the worst possible thing she could have done to him.

She laughed.

"You! You are a blunderer and a fraud! You pour lies and poison into ponies' ears and they do all the thinking for how to commit the crime, and then you come in afterwards with some petty, small minded and transparent attempt at misdirection. Only you would be pathetic enough to try to frame Pinkie Pie. Only you would be pathetic enough to try it three times. And only you would be pathetic enough to attack my friend on the street out of jealousy and reveal your entire scheme in the process. And you should be jealous, because Rainbow Dash is more a man than you, with your fake, oiled moustache could ever hope to be!"

"Well, we shall see how amazing your beloved Rainbow Dash is after she's dipped in oil and shaved bald!" Roared Spike in fury, "Applejack! Drop her!"

I braced myself for the end.

The tension went out of the rope.

I fell.

I remember reflecting that it wouldn't be that bad. I'd have to stay inside for a few months. Maybe I could learn to sew.

My face hit cold, hard stone.

I had never in all my life been so glad to have my face hit cold, hard stone. And my face has hit stone more often than I care to admit.

"Uh, no," said Applejack, "I signed up for this 'cause you said these two were spies for the Lemon family, not to help you with your creepy crush." She pushed her hat back, looked down at me, and offered me one hoof. "No hard feelings?"

I grinned and took it, and Applejack pulled me to my feet.

"You can't do this!" Spike was saying as Applejack and I started towards him.

"Aw, if it were up to me, I'd let you go," Applejack said, raising her forehooves, "But Bess and Punchy here, they get awful mad when they get lied to, and they been drinkin' all morning!"

I swooped up and cleared away the flames surrounding Rarity with a few solid beats of my wings.

She started advancing on Spike, who was backing up to the very edge of the Falls.

"Stay back! Stay back!" He shouted. He produced a scroll from his cape and held it over the edge. "Stop! This is the cure to the Poison Joke - any closer, and I'll drop it!"

Rarity lowered her head and jumped.

She hit Spike, teeth fastening around the scroll, and they both tumbled over the side.

"NO!" I shouted and lunged over the edge, spreading my wings and catching Rarity in my hooves half way down.

Spike caught Rarity's tail in his teeth, but his hat blew off and fell into the black, bubbling soup below.

Rarity was looking up at me with infinite courage in her huge, blue eyes. "Rainbow Dash, take the cure and drop me."

"No!" I said, struggling to keep aloft. In the old days, I could have carried four ponies and broken the sound barrier all in the same movement, but here, now, with my aching wing that had never healed properly it was all I could do to stay aloft. We were losing altitude fast.

"Dash, listen." Rarity was saying both quietly and firmly, using her magic to slip the scroll into the brim of her hat, and then place it on my head. "Magnet and Shores, they won't survive the Joke. My coat will grow back."

"No!" I shouted again, and yelped as Rarity bit my hoof in an attempt to dislodge my grip.

"Dash! You have to let go, or we'll both go down!" Rarity was saying, her voice more panicked now.

"NEVER!" I shouted, but it was futile. We were inches above the muck now. Below, Spike's feet were almost touching the black filth. Rarity bit my hoof again in another fruitless attempt to get me to drop her.

But then a thought came to me.


She looked up at me, her teeth still biting at my leg.

"You think short tails are in this season?" I said.

It was with a wicked smile that Rarity conjured a pair of scissors with her magic and snipped her long, beautiful, purple tail, dropping the heavy baby dragon into the thick black muck.

With that weight gone, I soared.

It was no Sonic Rainboom. It was no Loom of Doom, no Buccaneer Blaze, no Comet's Keelhaul. It was, in fact, an awkward, ungainly flutter. My old instructors would have hung their heads in shame, my old unit who was used to seeing me do the impossible would have been disappointed to their cores.

But it was not that the moves were graceful, or fast, or precise. It was the fact that I could do them at all. That I could make myself fly with only half a wing. The best kind of impossible.

We made it to the bank of the tar lake. I clipped a tree as I passed and my wings gave out, and we both fell into a huge mud puddle in a tangle of limbs, feathers and hat.

"Mud!" Shrieked Rarity, pulling herself free almost immediately. She stopped in mid movement, and then turned her head to look at the huge tar lake, where a faint black silhouette was struggling to swim to the shore.

"You know," she said, "Now that I think about it, mud isn't so bad."

I laughed as I got to my feet. My wing was cramped and aching, but I was too elated to think straight.

"You know," Rarity said with a little smile, "When I first met you, I made the guess that you were the Best Young Flier in Equestria?"

"Yes," I said, catching my breath, "You told me as much."

"I was right," said Rarity.


We made our way back home, not bothering to wipe the mud off. We laughed the entire way. Each time we tried to return to normal conversation, one look at the mud-coated other would dissolve us into laughter. Laughter so relieved and joyful that tears ran down our faces. The looks passing ponies gave us, mud-soaked yet well-dressed maniacs, made us laugh even harder.

We entered our room at Baker Street together, still laughing, but stopped to see a worried looking Detective Fluttershy sitting at our table.

"Fluttershy!" Said Rarity, "Whatever is the matter?"

"It's... it's Photo Finish. She's been attacked with the Poison Joke." Fluttershy said.

"What!?" Rarity exclaimed, "Impossible! We have Twilight under lock and key! How did she -"

"It wasn't Twilight," I said quietly.

Both turned to look at me.

"It kind of fits her modus operandi..." Fluttershy started, but I cut her off.

"But not her motive," I said, walking towards Fluttershy.

"I-I don't know what the problem is, surely there's not that much of a difference between two poisonings and three," Fluttershy was saying worriedly.

"It matters," I said, coming eye to eye with the little yellow and pink Detective.

"I-I-I-I-" she stammered.

And burst into tears.


I wrapped my hooves around her and patted her on the back as she bawled.

"There there. It's all right," I said comfortingly. "We found a cure. We can make this right. You’re not a bad pony, you just made a bad decision."

"Y-you did?" She said, looking up at me with huge, watery eyes. "I'm... just not sure I want to be right! I don't want things to go back to normal! Please!" She was outright begging at this point.

"Fluttershy," Rarity said from behind me, "What exact effect did the Poison Joke have on Photo Finish?"

"Oh," she sniffed, "Every picture she takes has a pancake photoshopped onto everypony's head."

Despite myself I let out a chuckle.

So did Rarity.

So did Fluttershy.

And in an instant, we were all laughing again.

"Don't worry, Fluttershy. We'll help you," said Rarity, and I nodded in agreement.

"If only to make sure it's pancake time whenever you want a break from policing." I said.


And so ends my narrative.

Rarity, of course, refused all of my suggestions to have it published. She claimed, as was her way, that it was "A poor show of her talents", against "Unworthy or misguided criminals", and "Better consigned to the dustbin of history". I was unable to sway her, and yet, here I am, submitting my poor account to the public of Equestria Daily.

This is not a decision I made lightly. My friend was quite clear about her wishes to remain incognito, and that she was quite sure that a superior case would eventually come along that would finally meet her expectations. But I believe she is wrong. I believe that no case, anywhere, will ever truly challenge the incredible intellect of Rarity the Unicorn. I believe that the casual, low level detritus cast about by her wit is still so above that of the average pony that it deserves fame and admiration. And I believe that sometimes a friend cannot see how amazingly talented they are, and that there is a point where modesty becomes insecurity.

I know my lamentably slow and tedious style does not do justice to the instant wit and flashes of insight that are my companion's norm, and I know that my heavy hoofed prose will often drag the reader out of the story to marvel at my poor turns of phrase or mangling of language. All I can hope is that I have somehow managed to communicate some of the sublime finesse with which my best friend, Rarity, handles every part of her life.

If anypony ever needs a mystery solved, you can always find us at 221B Baker Street.

Yours sincerely,


Comments ( 46 )

I'm glad to see this here on fimfiction.net! I read your story a long time ago when it was on EQD and I loved it.

Insta-win! So glad it got here! *reads...again*

There is a group for Holmes crossovers. Hope you don't mind if I add this.

Genius concept. I'm excited to read it.

I am sure you have been asked this before, but why Rarity instead of Twilight?

I can see some of the Holmes personality traits in Rarity, but Twilight would seem to fit it better in my mind.

Also, bravo on using pastries as weapons:rainbowlaugh:.

EDIT: keeping in mind I haven't read beyond chapter one yet.

I've been waiting for this story to be posted here! Thanks a lot! :pinkiehappy:

Ha! Brilliant! An expertly ponified Holmes story. I especially liked the bit at the beginning, with Gilda and Rainbow talking like turn-of-the-century English Gentlemen about "dweebism" and "coolness". And I love how seriously everypony takes the Poison Joke. Messing up someone's mustache is seen as a heinous crime! :rainbowlaugh:

You know what? Here, have a fave. It's that good.

Finely done, the references weren't obnoxious, the dialogue is hilarious, the characters act pretty much how you'd expect and every turn of events seems reasonable.
On the other hand, MIRIAM DASH?

You can call me amazed.

Not only did it feel as l though I were reading Watson's writings, but you managed to keep the characters in line with the Holmes mythology and mix in enough pony to make a truly incredible story.


So happy to finally see this on Fimfiction! Easily one of the best fics EQD has ever featured.

Yeah, Rainbow's middle name is often given as Miriam. (Or, sometimes, Jennifer.) I'm not sure where that comes from.


By all means!


Holmes is nothing like Twilight! Grab your copy of the Holmes stories (you *do* have a copy, don't you?) and actually have a read of what Holmes is saying. He doesn't value knowledge at all. He doesn't value the scientific method at all. He's all about intuition, elegance, precision, style. Twilight wants to solve the case too much. Holmes kinda doesn't care about the cases he's got, to him they're just games for his mind.

Rarity is a fundamentally better fit in my mind.


Rainbow "Miriam" Dash was coined by my good friend, darthbobcat, in one of his earliest stories "Fair Feathered Friend". I maintain it in my own stories as a salute to him.

And that's when I realized I should actually watch you so I can stop being surprised by amazing stuff I should have seen coming.

Seriously, though, who was the third pegasus in the cave?

863609 Shimmer Snowflake, Phoe's OC. She's a good friend, so I try to slip references to her character in here and there.


I see. Now that I think about it, Shimmer Snowflake was in a bit from "Griffin Over the Line" which I also read recently...

Criticism time: I'm not sure how anyone was meant to deduce her identity. We know that she was tied up in the cave and that she later admitted to being used to that in her line of work. And that she's a pegasus. There's no reference to her coloration, even. If you're going to include an obvious question for the reader like that, you need to include enough information for them to find the answer. Otherwise people like me are going to have a lasting feeling of "what the fuck why was she even there?".


I know D= I made some poor decisions when planning that story and by the end I was exhausted and just wanted to take a break and didn't really come back to it. It's not my finest piece, but I learned from the experience.

First, I do not appreciate the insinuation that I have not read every single story.

Holmes is all about solving the case, not so much catching the crook.
For it to be a game he would have to have an opponent of worth, the only time this was true was with Prof. Moriarty and perhaps one or two of the other stories. I would compare it more to a puzzle, finding each piece and how they fit together. Once the puzzle is complete nothing else is truly important, unless the crook offended Holmes in some way.

Intuition- (after looking up the definition) yes
Precision- Yes
Elegance and style- not so much

Scientific method is half true. He is a scientist after all (a published one at that), the first time Watson meets him he is running an experiment. When on a case he differs in that he does not experiment. He observes everything, he then works with no assumptions cutting away the impossible until he is as certain as he can be, usually 100%. There are a few where he had to act before he could be certain or something was missing and he could not be certain until after the fact.

He does value knowledge, just not what he considers to be frivolous knowledge. He is in fact a well spring of interesting knowledge that one would be hard pressed to find anywhere else. The sun and moon have no baring on crimes, but cigar ashes and types of dirt and where to find them do.

You are right of course. Rarity is the better choice., for all those reasons and perhaps more. (And my opinion on best pony has nothing to do with that what so ever:raritywink:)


I remember several cases where Holmes solved the crime immediately or from a distance and then basically sent Watson on ahead to blunder around like a fool while Holmes laid a trap for the real villain. He wasn't interested in the puzzle or the crime then so much as he was in how he could prove it with style.

And really, there's this sense I get every single time that I read one of Holmes' explanations that he's completely bullshitting us. To him, the leaps of intuition he makes are so complex, complete, and natural that he doesn't even think about them (and he says as much to Watson). So he'll come into a room, do his thing, and then Watson will ask "By gum, Holmes, how did you manage that?" And he has *no idea*.

So then Holmes sort of sifts back through his thought process and tries to unpick it and apply form to what he's just done, purely for Watson's benefit. A posthumous dissection of his flash of brilliance to try and work out where it came from. Sometimes those explanations seem quite weak or incomplete, which is a natural consequence of trying to fit his immense genius into a brief and logical format. The reality is that it just comes to him, like lightning, like creativity.

That's the impression I get with every single Holmes story. He's not a forensics technician who leans over a microscope looking for the crucial piece of evidence. He's an artist. That's why I chose Rarity to play his part.


I see where you are coming from. I disagree, but I get it.

865778 I still double take whenever someone respectfully disagrees with me on The Internet.


A year ago I would not have... but well.. :ajsmug::yay::pinkiehappy::rainbowlaugh::twilightsmile::duck:

I think Holmes would be offended at the suggestion that his deductions are "intuitions". He would say they are the inevitable logical result of observing and thinking clearly, and that when people attribute it to "intuition" or "genius" they are merely making excuses for their own stupidity, pretending that Holmes was gifted with some mysterious essence which they lack. He values knowledge enough to stuff his flat with books and clippings and cross-reference everything carefully; but you could argue that he values it only as a tool.

There are places where the explanations Holmes offers don't seem justified; and I see how you could conclude that Holmes invented the explanations post-hoc. My interpretation is that Doyle isn't as smart as Holmes, and made mistakes; and that the world isn't a place where Holmes-like deductions are possible, so we must accept some stretching of the truth and simplification of the possibilities.

I don't know whether Holmes merely loves solving puzzles, as you say; or whether he has a love of the pursuit of knowledge which he despises and sabotages, flitting from one project to another lest he lose his ironic detachment, because of his manic depression, his secret and lonely lack of faith, and his emo-like existential angst. My own Holmes story, which is complete but waiting on some more artwork, doesn't answer that question; but the ending hinges on that dark aspect of Holmes.

And I would like a solution to the mystery of why this story only has 107 views! We have a fine story, by a famous author, with a good title and a great illustration, and almost no views. What's going on here? It would have helped to release it one chapter at a time, but still - WTF? Testing my own Holmes story on fan-fiction, I've concluded that Holmes stories are not very popular among the MLP crowd. I've tried different titles and descriptions, but as long as it says "Holmes", people don't want to click on it - it gets about half as many views as my other stories.


I feel the need to defend him on this one point. Intuition does not, in point of fact, mean what I had always thought it meant.

1. direct perception of truth, fact, etc., independent of any reasoning process; immediate apprehension.

That's the meaning of intuition I had in mind. I don't think that is what Doyle intended for Holmes to be doing; and it isn't what Holmes claims to be doing. The weakness and incompleteness of his explanations, I attributed to Doyle not being Holmes, and Holmes being impossible in the real world.

It depends on which way you want to break the world. Thanqol's interpretation breaks the world by making it overly magical, so that Holmes can intuit reality. Mine breaks the world by making it overly logical, so that Holmes can make impossibly accurate predictions.

People intuit reality all the time. Intuition isn't magical, it's just your brain's non-conscious thought processes. And because it's your brain's thought processes, they are as likely to be accurate (or wrong) as whatever you've internalized (probably without being fully aware of it) to the point that it's running in the background all the time. When a professional baseball player intuits the exact moment to swing a bat at a ball, to use a much more simple example, it's still a product of their experience even though it's not them consciously thinking out "the ball appears to be moving this fast, so it will take this long to get here." Holmes' intuition is as good as whatever means he's using to come up with ti, but he's not necessarily aware of those means anymore. In fact, if he were consciously processing the amount of stimuli he lists for coming up with his deductions, I'd expect them to take far longer. The advantages of intuition are that it's faster and takes less effort than conscious thought. The disadvantages are that since you're even less aware of what's informing your conclusions than usual and all kinds of outdated instincts and emotional responses can clutter the data provided. Basically, intuition is only reliable in fields that you're good at anyway.

That said, this was an enjoyable story and I love the idea of Spikely Whiplash as the surprise villain.

Whoah, how did I miss that this story was now up on FIMfiction?

This is one of the best Holmes pastiches I've read, anywhere, and the fact it's a MLP:FiM crossover just makes it even better. Dash is perfectly in her element as the Watson, while Rarity makes for an appropriately brilliant and theatrical Holmes, prone to mood swings and all. I'm going to enjoy re-reading this quite a lot. :rainbowdetermined2::raritywink:

Any chance of you also uploading The Hound of Ponyville here? :pinkiesmile:


Good point, I totally spaced on that.

I have thoroughly enjoyed reading this, and look forward to reading the sequel, which I shall begin forthwith.

Rarity makes an excellent Holmesian detective, her drive for perfection and eye for detail making her uniquely suited to the role. (Far moreso, I must say, than Twilight Sparkle, such that I wish a certain confectionery train caper had been written with the wisdom to focus on Rarity and Pinkie Pie.) Combining the deductive reasoning methods of Holmes with Rarity's other traits -- in particular, her fashion expertise and her flair for dramatic performance -- craft a delightful character.

Of Rainbow Dash however, I must admit a less glowing endorsement. I did not care for Rainbow Dash as the protagonist, and not for any lack of wanting. Rather, you have succeeded excellently in your endeavor to write the story within the style of Sir Arthur. Unfortunately, that style is so utterly foreign to the character of Rainbow Dash that I find the juxtaposition fails. I cannot believe Rainbow Dash is speaking, much less thinking, in the voice presented. A pity, because this is the singular flaw in the storytelling.

Finally, I turn my critique towards Fluttershy. And it is here where I believe your story shines most brightly. The choice of Fluttershy for this role was both unexpected and brilliant. The revelations of how she gained her position, and the way her interplay with Rarity fed the cycle of her ascendance, made this character particularly intriguing. The reactions of both Rainbow Dash and Rarity to her were written ambrosia.

Thank you for the delightful tale.


2166350 Ah my goodness, thank you for the comment! I am glad my story entertained you in some way.

I am not as proud of the sequel (it was written for less elegant reasons), but I hope it is at least not offensive.

Thank you again for taking the time :)

Did you by any chance watch the BBC Sherlock and decide to do this :D cause I love that show, and I can totally see Rarity doing the things that Sherlock does. I don't think a lot of people can pull of his rants though about how people are, that is what makes the show so wonderful. I have added this to the Nook and will eagerly read this!!!

Indeed, this was a most pleasant way to while away a bit of time. Thanks.

2188610 That one I had mixed feelings about. I did really like the text messages and psychopathic behaviour, they were a great take on modernising Sherlock Holmes. On the other hand I honestly enjoyed A Game Of Shadows far more, even if it was light on investigation.

When I found out this was the Reichenbach fall, I was so scared, "Rarity, nooo!" I'm sorry, I'm too used to the BBC version of Sherlock Holmes, and we all know what happens at the end of the last episode...heh heh...

Anyway, I read this in one sitting, and I'm quite glad I did. The story was amazing, the character choices were quite fitting, and it was very intriguing. So, take a like and favorite from me!

And so the dashing Runcible Spoon sallies forth on his maiden voyage as a fully registered user.
I am a big Holmes fan, and I'm intrigued to see how this goes...
Now then, on to chapter one!

Here we are, at the end.
It has been an excellent ride.
I find that nothing more can be said that hasn't already been said.
Well done, I look forward to reading more of your work.
I should have known they were the Moriarty-esque character...

2624434 Thanks for reading!

Got drawn back here by Runcible Spoon sensibly siding several times with me.

I'll share a thought: As far as fussy fiction detective fusions go, Rarity would make an excellent Hercule Poirot (I'm particularly thinking of the David Suchet version). Perhaps better than Holmes.

2627805 My dark secret is that I'm actually a cultural rube and I've never read a Poirot book.

If it makes you feel better, I've only read about four but I've seen at least five times that many episodes of the BBC series.

The main things about Poirot is that he is incredibly fussy about his appearance and he always calls all the relevant people together so he can dramatically reveal who the real killer is in front of everyone at the end of the case (usually showing off by going through his deductions about others before the killer). Rarity's a fussy drama queen, too, and she cares a lot more about looking fashionable than Sherlock.

It's only very recently that I found out that this story had a sequel, so I re-read this one.
It was just as enthralling as the first time.

6776121 It's funny because they're horses

Two-Thousand and Twelve.

Holy crap.

It's been a long, strange road.

You published this scarcely a month after I became a brony. Strange road indeed haha. Time flies.

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