Case Three, Chapter Eight: Rebuilding Bridges
Phillip shifted his weight on the couch and sighed through his nostrils. His eyes darted up momentarily towards the kitchen, and Daring knew that he was thinking of that bottle of Kanga-Rum right then.
“It was 1948, the Moon of Snow...a year and a half ago, when you were just starting your sentence,” Phillip began. “I was a Detective Sergeant in the force; Cold was my senior partner.”
“Your partner?” Daring asked, raising her eyebrows. “Geez, no wonder she hates you so much.”
Phillip gave her a questioning look, but shrugged it off and continued, staring at the wall instead of looking at her. “We had spent the last five months investigating Lucky Dice, a local mobster. Drug smuggling, gun running, counterfeiting, extortion, money laundering, murder...all of it. We spent entire days sorting through the evidence, figuring out what we could make stick and what we couldn’t.
“It was all going to pay off, though; we’d finally gotten the wanker into the docket on thirty-six charges. We were right there in the courtroom, waiting for the judge to start…and then Dice’s lawyer stepped up.”
Phillip paused, sucking in a slow breath. Daring noticed his hoof twitching and clenching, as though he was imagining grasping somepony’s throat.
“The lawyer motioned to dismiss all charges...said that a lot of the evidence was inadmissible in court,” Phillip continued, a distinctly bitter taste in his voice. “Prosecutor protested...they all went into the judge’s chambers…” His breathing became heavier and accelerated, his eyes narrowing into points, and Daring realized that he was far away now, back in that cold courtroom with snow assailing the windows, waiting and watching for the judge’s decision.
“And when they came back out,” Phillip finally said. “The judge said all charges were dismissed. This fucking bastard got off on a fucking bullshit technicality. Fifteen ponies!” he suddenly shouted, causing Daring to jump slightly. “Fifteen ponies that he’d personally killed, and he just got off completely fucking free!”
He had to take a couple breaths to calm himself, and when he continued, it was in a tone so quiet that she almost had to strain to hear him.
“Cold was pissed...I was pissed...the families of the vics were hurting…I, I needed to do something, because it felt like I was burning up inside, and if I didn’t do something, it’d kill me. So after my shift, I just went on a walkabout, trying to think of what to do...and without meaning to, I ended up at his apartment.”
He paused, his hoof still clenching at the cushion beneath him. “I came up, knocked at his door. He came to the door, smug as a cat, drinking a fucking martini. We started arguing. I told him I didn’t give a damn what the judge said, I knew what he’d done, and I wasn’t going to rest until I got him for it, made him pay for everypony that he’d hurt.”
Phillip paused again, breathing heavily as though he were running uphill. His posture sagged slightly; his eyes, still narrowed, were now focused on the floor. His ears slowly flattened themselves against his head. Even from a profile view, Daring could see the unmistakable signs of fear in Phillip’s posture and face.
“He laughed at me. Told me I was a stupid old stallion, that there was nothing that I could ever do to him; he'd played the system once, he could do it again. He just kept laughing...And then he started reaching for a gun on the table...”
Phillip began to shiver like the temperature of the room had dropped to below freezing. His eyes were no longer narrow; instead, they were slowly starting to widen, sparks of mingled fear and anger dancing in their whites.
“I saw red…” he whispered. "I remember jumping on him. I didn't know if I wanted to kill him or just hurt him, but...he grabbed a knife and came at me...and..." He took in a breath, his hooves trembling. "I tell myself it was an accident, but...next thing I knew, I was standing over his body...and there was blood all over my hooves in my face."
Daring drew in a breath, suddenly drawing away from him. He turned his face away from her, his eyes closing and his face twisting in an expression of revulsion.
“I panicked. Washed myself off, dumped the body in the Maresippi.
“But Cold suspected what I’d done. So did Tumbler. He called me into his office the next week and told me that I had two options: either I retire, and it all went away quietly, or I stayed on the force, and they’d try me and convict me of murder.”
He swallowed, blinking slowly. “So I took the coward’s option. Turned in my badge, walked out. Became a PI.” He sighed. “Cold never forgave me. And I can’t ever forgive myself.”
There was a long silence, then Daring asked, “Why can’t you?”
“I lost control,” Phillip said. “I beat a pony to death, all because I was angry. And then I couldn’t even face up to what I’d done.” He slowly turned to look at Daring out of the corner of his eye. “Not like you. You...you spent a year in prison to atone for what you’d done in the Family. You came back here after everything, and stood up and said, ‘I did this. Do with me what you will.’ I couldn’t...I couldn’t do that.” He began to rub his hoof up and down his foreleg, his body now becoming extremely still. He looked down at the floor, and Daring saw tears beginning to run down his face.
Daring hesitated for a few seconds while Phillip cried silently, then reached out and took his hoof in her own. He froze for a moment, turning to look at her in mute astonishment.
“This may come as a shock to you,” Daring said quietly, holding her gaze steady in his eyes. “But you are not the only pony in this room with blood on their hooves.”
Phillip blinked and raised his eyebrows slightly, prompting her to continue.
“I mentioned how the Family used assassination,” Daring continued, an involuntary shudder running up and down her spine at the mention of the name. “It wasn't often, but...all of us killed ponies. Even...even me." She shuddered. "Mojo told us that we took his orders no matter what and threatened us and beat us when we didn't do what he said. My...my first one was a smuggler in Tall Tale. Mojo took me out there, handed me a pistol, and told me not to fuck it up...or else." She shivered and swallowed, feeling a fresh wave of bile rising up her esophagus. “I knew it was wrong, but…” She trailed off, squeezing his hoof. "Sparks and I hated it, but the others...they all got used to it. A lot of them even liked it."
“Why’d you stay?” Phillip asked quietly.
Daring swallowed again. “Because, Mother damn it, I was scared. Scared of Mojo or somepony else killing me, scared of going to prison, scared of myself, scared of losing my home and family…” She blinked several times, trying to alleviate the burning that was growing in her eyes. “It took me two years to work up the courage to turn them in. Two years…" She was silent for a moment, then looked up. "My point is, I've known killers. I've lived with them. And you...you're not a killer. You're a good stallion." She lowered her head again. "I'm a killer," she spoke.
"Not anymore," Phillip whispered back.
Daring swallowed. "Sparks was my one friend during that time," she said. "The one pony beside me who tried to keep her hooves as clean as she could. And now, I don’t even have her.”
Phillip squeezed her hoof back and gently pulled her in close, placing his chin atop her head. “You have me,” he whispered.
Daring’s heart palpitated in her ribcage and a smile crossed her face. She nestled against his chest, staring straight ahead blankly. His breathing rustled through her mane like the wind; his hoof was warm in hers, squeezing gently as if to reassure her that he was still there, that he would not let go.
“I’m sorry I left,” she whispered, her eyes burning more than ever. “I shouldn’t have...I wasn’t…”
"No, I'm sorry," Phillip interrupted quietly. "I should have trusted you more. I shouldn't have driven you away."
"You were right not to trust me," Daring whispered. "I..."
"Shhh," Phillip whispered, gently nuzzling the crown of her head. “It doesn’t matter. You’re home now.”
She smiled and nuzzled his chest, faintly noting his scent: rum, cold rain, and cologne. They remained like that for several seconds of silence. The burning in Daring’s eyes faded away.
“We need to get back to work,” Phillip finally said, getting up off the couch. “We have to find out where Sparks and her crew are hiding out, and soon.” He turned to face Daring. “Tell me everything you remember you saw.”
Daring started to relate every detail she could recall from the hideout. The stairs to the second floor, the white curtains in the living room windows, the two-story white and tan condo across the street, the stars that she saw from the creaky back porch. The rain that battered the windows eased up slightly as hours passed by.
“So the house faces south?” Phillip said.
“I’m sure of it,” Daring nodded. “And there’s something else: it’s in the Industrial District.”
“How can you be sure?” Phillip asked.
“I could smell the smog when I went outside,” Daring stated.
“Ripper. That could be useful in the future,” Phillip nodded, pacing. He thought for a moment, rubbing his chin, then turned and faced her. “The takeout wrappers.”
“What about them?” Daring asked.
“Logos. Brands. Name them,” Phillip ordered.
Daring closed her eyes and thought for a few seconds of silence. “Railway Sandwiches,” she said. “Dice Pizza. House of Tong…”
Phillip nodded. “Reckon they’d go to places nearby. If we can find someplace close to all of those restaurants, we might find their hideout.” He started to turn towards a phone book on the table behind him and walked towards it, stumbling as he did so.
“No,” Daring said firmly, grabbing his tail. “It’s late, and we’ve both had a really long day. We’re going to bed.”
Phillip turned around and blinked at her, raising his eyebrows.
“Not the same bed, you ninny,” Daring rolled her eyes. Phillip let out a relieved sigh and wiped his face with a hoof.
The two of them trotted upstairs, wearily surmounting the steps and pausing at their respective doors. Daring hesitated, her hoof on the doorknob, and turned to look at Phillip. He looked back at her, blinking heavily, his head lowered in exhaustion.
“Thank you,” she whispered. “For everything.”
“No worries, sheila,” Phillip nodded, smiling softly. “G’night.”
She smiled back at him and entered her bedroom. Everything was exactly how she left it: the reddish-brown carpeting and light brown walls, the tangled blue sheets at the hoof of the bed, the bedside table with the clock.
She walked over to the bed and flopped down upon the cloud-soft mattress. She was asleep as soon as she closed her eyes.
The heat and light of the sun shining through the window pulled Daring from her slumber. She groaned and woke up just enough to drape a foreleg over her face, trying to hide from the world for a little while longer. However, her own mind rebelled against her, refusing to allow her to go back to sleep. A little later, her stomach joined in the mutiny, growling and grumbling in hunger.
With a groan, Daring tossed the sheets off and pulled herself out of bed, shaking her mane out of her eyes. Yawning, she exited the bedroom and walked past Phillip’s room; she could hear him snoring from inside. She walked into the bathroom and took a warm shower. The warm water pounding down on her back and the heavy steam eased her muscles and tension. She sat for several long minutes in the shower, just allowing the water to roll off her back and shoulders.
Exiting the shower and toweling herself off, she went downstairs to begin preparing breakfast. First things first: she started the coffee machine and placed a fresh pot underneath it. Then she peeked into the fridge and immediately stopped. Sitting in the middle of the fridge, right in the midst of the food, was a plastic bag filled with pony's ears, each of them cleanly cut off.
"Well, at least he moved on from the eyeballs," Daring muttered to herself as she pulled a carton of eggs and some slabs of hay bacon out of the fridge and a couple bagels out of the pantry and started making eggs benedict. The scent of frying eggs and toasting bread soon filled the air in the kitchen.
Just as Daring was placing the first batch of eggs on the table, Phillip appeared, yawning and rubbing his semi-closed eyes. Smiling, Daring grabbed the cup of black coffee that she’d already poured and slid it down the counter towards him. He grasped it on his third try and raised it to his lips, gulping down half of the contents in one go.
“Thank you,” he muttered as the caffeine gradually brought him up to full alertness.
“No worries,” Daring smiled, tussling his mane. “So, what’s the plan for today?”
“Reckon I’ll head down to the precinct,” Phillip said, digging into one of his eggs. “See what evidence Suun, Twi and Doc Mortis have dug up.”
“Cool,” Daring nodded. There was a brief pause while they both ate, then Daring added, “So you and Cold were partners a long time ago, right?”
“Mm-hmm,” Phillip nodded, his mouth full.
Daring smirked. “So I gotta know...did you fuck her?”
Phillip choked on his breakfast and bent over the table, coughing and thumping his chest. “No,” he said bluntly, glaring at her as scarlet coloring rushed up his ears.
Daring laughed. “Ah, I’m just messing with you, don’t worry.”
Phil huffed and continued eating. “This is good,” he commented.
“Thanks,” Daring said. “We all took turns cooking in the Family…” She trailed off, her hunger evaporating like water on a hot tin roof.
Phillip chewed silently for a moment, then pushed a plate of eggs towards her. “Eat. You need your strength.”
“Thanks,” Daring nodded, eating the eggs.
Phillip finished his breakfast before she did and dropped his plate off in the sink. “I’ll head out now. Be back when I have something.”
“Okay,” Daring nodded. Phillip started to walk into the hallway, but she stood up and called him back. “Hey, where do you keep your potassium nitrate, sugar, and aluminum foil?”
Phillip stopped and blinked at her. “Why?”
“An old Family recipe I know,” Daring said. “I thought it might be a good idea to cook it up. It might be helpful later.”
Phillip thought for a second, then nodded. “Good thinking. Sugar and aluminum foil are in the pantry; might have some fertilizer you can use for potassium nitrate.”
“Great!” Daring nodded. “I should have enough for both of us ready when you get back.”
“Ripper,” Phillip said, swinging his vest onto his shoulders and placing his trilby atop his head.
“And Phil?” Daring called, walking up to face him.
“What?” Phil asked, pausing. He stared back at her, his head tilted at a curious angle; the silence between them became roaring in just a moment.
Daring waited for just a moment, then reached out and tapped his nose with her hoof. “Good luck boop!”
Phillip stepped back, his eyes widening for a moment, then gave Daring a deadpan stare. She snickered.
“Go on, get outta here,” Daring said, pushing him out the door. “We’re wasting daylight!” And with a final wave, she shut the door behind him.
Phillip sighed and turned to head down the street towards the precinct at a brisk trot. The day was cool, even with the sun shining brightly in the blue sky, and the air felt good against his coat. Despite everything going through his mind, Phillip found that for some reason, he couldn’t help but smile.
Reaching the precinct on hoof in just over twenty minutes, Phillip pushed through the door of the precinct and entered the front lobby. The desk sergeant, a chubby red earth pony with green hair, gave him a brief nod as he entered. He nodded back as he walked past through the doors to the inner offices.
Proceeding down the hallway, Phillip pushed the door to the stairs open and descended down into the basement laboratory. The familiar sound of classical music punctuated with static greeted them as they proceeded into the lab proper. The only occupant was Twilight Sparkle, who was currently bending over a microscope.
“G’day, Twi,” Phillip called.
Twilight jumped and turned around. “Phil!” she cried. “How are you?”
“Been better,” Phillip grunted.
“Do you need help with something?” Twilight asked.
“We might have a lead on the suspects’ hideout,” Phillip said. "Need you to map out locations of fast food restaurants in the Industrial District and plot out possible locations that they might be hiding in...please,” he added.
Twilight’s eyes widened and shone like small stars. “A probability complex! I can do that!” She pulled a map of Ponyville out of a nearby shelf and unrolled it, then grabbed a phonebook.
“So what were the restaurants you needed to know?” Twilight asked, flipping the phonebook open to fast food restaurants.
“Railway Sandwiches, Dice Pizza, and House of Tong,” Phillip said. “What are you gonna do?”
“I’m going to find the addresses of any restaurants in the Industrial District,” Twilight explained, already placing small dots of purple magic on the map. “When I do that, I can then use a probability matrix to determine potential hideouts.”
“You learned how to do this at the Royal Academy of Magic?” Phillip asked. “How does probability go into magic?”
“You’d be amazed; geothaumatic energies and the use of locations in creating complex spells, particularly ones that might affect a lot of ponies, involve a lot of calculating probabilities and analyzing populations,” Twilight said. “All it involves is adjusting my formulas a bit.” She plotted a line between two of the dots, then expanded the line to cover a small area in between them.
“Where’s Daring?” Twilight asked without looking up from the map.
“At home,” Phillip replied.
Twilight looked up, her eyebrows shooting up into her bangs. “Is she all right?”
“She’s apples,” Phillip stated.
“Um…” Twilight said slowly, tilting her head to the side.
“She’s fine,” Phillip translated.
Twilight paused, frowning. “Is she...are you sure that she’s fine?” she asked.
Phillip was silent for a moment, studying her face, and he realized what she was trying to say.
“She made a bad decision,” Phillip said. “But it’s all right now.”
“I found a feather that had to have been hers at the firm...did she…” Twilight started to ask, her expression haunted. “She didn’t…?”
“Her hooves are clean here,” Phillip nodded.
Twilight took a breath and sighed, smiling. “Good. I’m glad that she’s on our side.”
“So am I,” Phillip nodded. “Where’s Suunkii?”
“He’s in the morgue with Doctor Mortis,” Twilight replied, turning back to the map.
“Thanks,” Phil nodded and exited the lab. He walked down to the end of the hallway, through the open door of the morgue, and entered the cold, metallic room. Doctor Mortis and Doctor Suunkii were standing over one of the dissection tables; Phillip recognized the heap of burnt meat atop it as the dead thief from Miranda and Sons.
Doctor Mortis looked up as he entered and her eyebrows shot up with surprise and delight. “Hello, Phillip!” she said, waving enthusiastically. Doctor Suunkii looked up and greeted Phil with a more languid gaze.
“G’day, docs,” Phil said. “What’s the story, Mortis?”
“Our new friend and I had a very long conversation last night, and I was able to tease out a few details,” Doctor Mortis explained, looking over the burnt corpse with kind regard. “You know, I’m always amazed that criminals try to use fire to destroy bodies. It doesn’t work very well at all! Most fires don’t burn hot enough or long enough to really do enough damage; you’d need a full barrel of oil and two hours to completely burn a body to ashes and then—”
“Doctor Vitae Mortis, I do not think that Phillip Finder is here for a lecture,” Suunkii interrupted, giving his compatriot a flat look. “Please inform him of what you have found.”
“Ah, right,” Mortis nodded. “Well, while his cutie marks were badly damaged, I did find something to help me get an ID on him. Look here.” She handed Phillip a magnifying glass and pointed to a section of the foreleg where the skin had been partly burned away. Phil bent down and examined the skin. Just at the borderline of the charred burn marks were the remnants of a tattoo, the ink faded as though somepony had tried to remove it: the bottom half of a stylized N.M.D.
“He was a Nightmare Moon Disciple,” Phillip concluded.
“Yes, and he didn’t want other ponies to know that,” Mortis nodded. “That tattoo, combined with the remnants of his cutie mark and other physical details, including dental work--he’s got a beautiful silver crown on his second lower right molar, do you see it?--I was able to identify him as Leaf Dance. His brother was Silent Step, the pony at the bank robbery that our sniper killed.”
“If I may,” Suunkii interrupted. “We are still operating under the assumption that these robbers are connected to the shooters who targeted and assassinated members of the Nightmare Moon Disciples, correct?”
“Their use of BARs at the firm attack suggests that,” Phillip grunted.
“Then why would Leaf Dance, a member of that same organization, join up with them?” Suunkii asked.
“Maybe he got a better offer,” Phillip said.
“There’s one other thing I noted,” Mortis put in. “Mister Dance here was recently attacked by a dog. Look here.” She pointed to a series of small purplish marks on the back of the body’s left hind left leg. Phillip examined them with the magnifying glass and identified them as bite marks, in the distinctive shape of a dog’s jaw.
“A Gerwhin shepherd, I’d say, based on the shape of the marks,” Doctor Mortis commented. “Bruising suggests that it was only a day or two old at death.”
“Odd,” Phil muttered, squinting at the bruises. “Looks like the dog was missing a tooth or two.”
“Good eyes!” Mortis nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, the dog that bit him was missing two of its front teeth.”
Phillip thought for a few moments, then frowned. “Thanks, docs,” he said, turning to go.
“Phillip, a moment,” Suunkii called. Phillip paused. Suunkii nodded to Mortis, who took the hint and exited the room, closing the door behind her.
“You should know that there is no precise evidence that links Daring Do to the crime scene at Miranda and Sons,” Suunkii announced, fixing Phillip with his trademark inscrutable gaze. Phillip did not answer.
“However, Twilight Sparkle did find a small light gold pegasus feather in the back alley behind the building,” Suunkii continued. “And there were scattered witness reports of a pegasus mare with a strange hat.” He tilted his head at Phillip, frowning.
“Phillip, I must know this for certain: do you trust her?” he asked.
Phillip bristled a little bit, but let out a slow breath through his nostrils. “Yes,” he said, his posture and his tone backing up his calm conviction. “Yes, I do.”
Suunkii studied Phillip for several seconds, then sighed and closed his eyes. “If you were any other pony, Phillip Finder, I would call you a fool,” he said. He opened his eyes and fixed them upon Phillip’s. “But I know you, my friend. You are many things, and a fool is not one of them. I will trust your judgment on this.”
Phillip smiled. “Thank you, Suun.”
“But I warn you,” Suunkii added. “Should you cross the line, you will find me a dangerous enemy.”
Phillip stared at Suunkii for a moment, then nodded slowly. “Right,” he said quietly. “I’ll, er, get back to work.”
“Good luck to you both, Phillip Finder,” Suunkii said, turning back to the examining table. Phillip exited the morgue as quickly and quietly as he could, closing the door behind him.
He looked up to see Twilight running towards him, carrying the map of Ponyville in her magic. “I did it!” she cried excitedly, showing him the map, which was still marked with purple magical pins and circles. “I plotted out some areas on the map here where the thieves’ hideout might be.”
“Thank you, Twilight,” Phillip nodded, pocketing the map. To his surprise, Twilight suddenly wrapped him up in a tight hug. He stiffened in surprise. Twilight must have sensed the awkwardness because she let go very quickly.
“Stay safe,” Twilight advised him quietly and walked away. Phillip sighed and started to walk away.
“Finder,” a voice as cold as an oncoming blizzard spoke. Phillip paused, then slowly turned around. Captain Cold Case was standing behind him, glaring at him. Behind her was Chief Chilled Tumbler, his eyes narrowed.
“I was just making a report to the chief about our progress on the robberies,” Cold Case stated. “And I had to tell him that we had very little progress. I dispatched Trace Evidence and Red Herring to track down leads on Leaf Dance. So far, we have found nothing.” She glared at Phillip, her eyes as frosty as the bottom of a frozen lake.
“Finder, we pay you to get results, not to laze around on your ass,” Tumbler growled. “You’d better fucking have something on these cop killers.”
“Daring and I might,” Phillip said calmly, facing the blizzard unflinchingly.
Cold’s eyes flashed dangerously. “Where is she?” she hissed.
“Safe,” Phillip replied. “And getting ready to help me find the thieves.”
Cold snorted. “I personally interviewed witnesses from Miranda and Sons. Witnesses who told me that they’d caught glimpses of a pegasus mare in a funny hat fleeing the scene. Don’t tell me that she wasn’t involved in this.”
“She is,” Phillip answered flatly. “She’s involved in identifying and stopping them.”
“Really,” Cold said dryly. “Then she won’t mind coming in for some questions.”
“Cold, four good officers and seven other ponies are dead,” Phillip stated, his voice quiet and cutting. “We do not have time for this. This is how it’s going to work. When I find them, I will let you know.”
Cold looked like she was going to argue, but Chilled Tumbler cut her off. “You’ll let us know the second you find something,” he said, giving Cold Case a quiet sidelong glare. Cold Case scowled back at him but did not protest.
“One condition,” Phillip stated, looking directly at Chilled Tumbler. “You bring them in alive.”
“What?” Cold Case snapped.
“Enough ponies have died already,” Phillip said. “Nopony else needs to. Not even them.”
Cold Case hissed. “Oh, you arrogant, self-righteous—”
“That is the deal,” Phillip cut her off, turning on his heels and walking away.
“Trying to make up for past mistakes, Finder?” Chilled Tumbler called after him, the sneer evident in his voice.
Phillip paused and looked over his shoulder at them. “No,” he answered. “I’m trying to do the right thing.” He turned and walked up the hallway without another word. Ascending the staircase, he exited the police precinct and started to trot back up the street, headed back towards home.
He didn’t see the grayscale rainbow swooping down out of the sky until it was too late. Something seized him beneath his forelegs and the ground was yanked away from his hooves. His cry of surprise mixed with a familiar shout of laughter right next to his ear.
“Sorry!” Daring Do said, banking around to carry them towards the southeast. “I finished up and got impatient, so I started flying around to look for you.”
Phillip wriggled a little to try to get comfortable in her grip, watching the city flying past beneath him. “You could’ve warned me before you grabbed me like that,” he grumbled.
Daring laughed. “Admit it, you missed this while I was gone.”
Phillip didn’t answer, but a small smile touched his lips for a moment. He had. He really had.
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Yeah, I'm hearing that proofreader scream. Hell, I'm screaming it myself.
But Daring and Phil's pasts... God, just God...
Goat Scream
8552391
muzzles the goat
What's all this screaming about?
Well, I'm certainly joyous that both Philip and Daring have decided to open up about each other and rebuild the bridges between them.
Also, finding a dead pony who's a Nightmare Moon Disciple reminds me of the prestigious fanfic known as Past Sins, whose antagonist was the head of a cult that worshiped Nightmare Moon. I assume that you've heard of it, correct?
8555901
Yes. However, it's worth mentioning that in the Noireverse, Luna has not turned into Nightmare Moon; NM in this universe is an ancient legendary creature whose tales predate Equestria.
8556622
Well, that's a tremendous relief, especially since both alicorn sisters won't need to endure a millennium-long separation.
Chilled's dialogue feels a bit off. I get that he's trying to put up a face, a front, for all of those under him, but it feels weird after rereading a few of his lines in this one. He's been described as pretty much a more professional frosted Cold, but the pacing of him doesn't feel right. I dunno, could be just me.
Damnit
What technicality? What happened that it could be dismissed like that? Or were they all corrupt and payed off?
8670761
It's Ponyville. Corruption and payoffs are almost a given.
8671372
Like Indonesia!
And then the Corruption Watchdogs get you and then you get sentenced for the corruption.
8555901
What do you mean by "infamous" ? I hope it's nothing bad.
Honestly, if I was put in a situation like Phil was where you quit or face incarceration (and probable death) I'd likely do the same thing and hate myself for it.
Daring's birth parents were likely druggies (just out of curiosity what was her birth name?) Seeing as they barely seemed to know they even had a daughter. It's a shame that her onetime BSBFF turned out to be as bad as this mogul figure.
These stories might not be the most original, but someone once told me "things are cliché because they work". A perfectly sunshine and rainbows utopia of legit perfectly happy ponies would undoubtedly make for dull reading.
10477428
Past Sins is infamous for having an alicorn original character, which is generally frowned upon in the fandom.
Yes, that wasn't an easy decision on Phil's part by any means. He figured he could do more good as a freelancer rather than in prison.
I haven't decided what Daring's birth name was. Hell, I'm not sure her parents even gave her one.
Glad you're liking it so far! I hope you continue to enjoy the series!
I agree with your proofreader and I can hear them. :P
11224706
Glad that you can!
blood all over my hooves and in my face
I hadn't. Always thought it was rather inconsiderate.