Case Nine, Chapter Twelve: All's Well
The thunder rumbled over Scarlet Letter’s house, but she hardly noticed; she was too busy focusing on the mare beside her, gently wrapped in her embrace.
“Must you go, mon cher?” she cooed, nuzzling the mare’s neck.
“I really have to get home,” the pale blue unicorn protested, shifting in Scarlet’s grasp halfheartedly; the warm, soft bed and the embrace all conspired to keep her here.
“Oh, I’m sure your husband will barely miss you,” Scarlet smirked, nuzzling the mare’s neck right at the tickle spot that she’d discovered less than an hour prior.
Her target squirmed, giggling helplessly, but eventually managed to push her away. “No, he’ll miss me,” Silver Fortune said, sitting up and shaking her long argent mane out of her face. “He knows I’ve been staying late at the office, but this is pushing it.”
Scarlet let out a heavy sigh and sprawled out on the mattress, shaking her head so that her sweaty mane draped coquettishly over her face, covering one eye. “I suppose that this is one upside to your financial problems, oui?” she smirked.
Silver smiled, her pale gray eyes glittering with humor as she retrieved her light gold dress from the floor and carefully put it on. “I...really have to thank you, Scarlet,” she admitted. “You’re one of the few bright things in my life right now.”
“And you are one of the brightest things in my life,” Scarlet smiled back at her, beckoning her closer. Silver climbed up onto the bed and obliged her with a long, sweet kiss that tasted of raspberry lipstick.
“I’m glad that I’ve been able to cheer you up,” Scarlet nuzzled her as they parted. “I just wish that I could help you with other parts of your life.”
Silver sighed. “Well, the fact that we used to be owned by a mob boss isn’t helping our reputation any,” she admitted. “Even after we rebranded to North Star, ponies know it’s Monopoly Investments at its core.”
“Perhaps I might be able to help,” Scarlet mused, head tilted to the side.
“If you have any ideas, I’d love to hear them before we go under completely,” Silver sighed, strapping her dress back on. “Now, I’ve really got to get home.”
“Are you sure one of my guards can’t drive you back?” Scarlet asked, glancing outside at the pouring rain. A flash of lightning revealed a stallion in a Cerberus uniform and rain jacket walking past the window, patrolling the grounds of the simple cottage on the outskirts of Ponyville.
“No, no, I’ll be fine,” Silver shook her head, smoothing out her dress. She leaned over and gave Scarlet a final, swift kiss. “I’ll see you later.”
And with that, she walked out the door. Scarlet watched her smooth flanks as she exited and laid in bed, listening to the sound of the front door opening and shutting.
As soon as she was gone, Scarlet got up and walked over to a jewelry box sitting on top of the grand dresser in the corner. Opening up the box, Scarlet extracted the small silver camera from within, its lens lined up with the keyhole in the box. As she extracted it, the camera emitted another small clicking sound as the timer went off, taking another picture.
Scarlet sighed and switched the camera off. It was always good to have a backup plan, but she really hoped that Silver would be amenable to reason. This might be just another job, but the mare was quite fun to play with.
The alarm clock on the bedside table suddenly rang once. Scarlet whirled around to stare at the clock, then frowned. She glanced outside; the Cerberus guard was standing beneath a canopy, futilely trying to light a cigarette. She could also faintly hear the other guards from the basement, clearly in the middle of their poker game.
Good. No one that might notice her absence for a while; all of her guards were aware of her “nightly activities” and understood that she was to be left alone for as long as she wished.
Scarlet turned to the large standing mirror in the corner of the room and walked towards it, stroking the gold gilded frame and touching the embedded gems in the right order: blue, green, blue, and red. Her own reflection faded away, replaced by the image of a dark orange mare with a green mane, wincing with the weight of her pregnant belly as she slowly walked back from the glass.
Scarlet stepped forward through the glass and reappeared in a basement. All around them were stacked crates, a few of them stamped with “Equestrian Army” in bold letters. Cots were arranged in rows on the floor; ponies lay on them, snoring softly.
“Ma’am,” Bright Sparks grunted, staggering back to one of the cots. Scarlet dashed to her side and carried her over to the bed, gently laying her down.
“Are you all right?” she asked, stroking Bright Sparks’ mane.
“The baby’s getting impatient,” Sparks replied with a pained grin. “But I’ve got some bad news.”
“You had to abandon the safe house?” Scarlet asked, looking around at the rest of her team sleeping on the cots.
Sparks nodded. “Daring found us,” she growled. “I tried to have Sledgehammer get rid of her, but…” She scowled at the snoring unicorn, curled up in the cot furthest from them.
Scarlet looked around once more, doing a mental headcount. “Scarlet...where is Gear Shift?” she asked slowly, dreading the answer.
Sparks closed her eyes. “He…” Sparks took a deep breath. “I sent him in to kill the Mayor, but...he didn’t come back. He got caught.”
Scarlet gasped. “No! How?!”
“Finder,” Sparks growled, tears leaking from behind her eyelids. “Somehow, he..” She growled and pounded the mattress with her hoof. “I should’ve killed that bastard when I had the chance!” she shouted, causing a few of her comrades to wake up.
“There, there,” Scarlet cooed, stroking Sparks’ mane. “We’ll get our revenge on him and Daring soon.”
“When?!” Sparks yelled. “When are they no longer going to be ‘useful’ to us?! When is that Gerwhin fuck gonna stop playing around and suck his dick so he can get it over with?! When—”
She suddenly cried out in pain and clutched her stomach, gasping in surprise. “Sparks?” Scarlet cried, bending over her, aware of the other ponies scrambling out of bed.
Bright Sparks cried out again, curling into a ball as tears leaked from the corners of her eyes. Liquid leaked out from between her tightly clenched hind legs. “Th-the baby!” she cried, then screamed again.
Black Licorice was immediately by her side, grasping Bright Sparks’ hoof in both of hers. “It’s okay, honey,” she whispered, barely even wincing when Sparks’ grip crushed into her bones. “It’s all right, we’re here. Take deep breaths now.” She glared around at the others, who stood around them in a circle, staring. “Don’t just stand there! We need water! Towels! Move it!” she barked.
The others scrambled to retrieve the requested items. Black Licorice gently shooed Scarlet back so that she could work. Scarlet Letter backed up, an amused smile tingeing her lips at the prospect of being ordered by another pony.
And then she felt eyes on her. Turning, she saw the stallion standing next to the easel with The Treachery of Images staring at her with those empty eyes. He nodded to her and turned to walk up a flight of stairs.
Scowling, Scarlet followed at a discrete distance, following the stallion up the stairs, through a modest but well-stocked kitchen, and out a set of glass doors onto a balcony. The rain pattered hard against the awning over their heads; before them, ripples spread out across the surface of the Maresippi, distorting the reflection of the lights of Ponyville, five miles away.
“Did you get the job done?” Scarlet asked. “Is the statue--?”
“He was there,” Zugzwang breathed. He wasn’t looking at her, his gaze instead focused northward, but Scarlet saw a sliver of a smile creeping up his face. It almost made her shiver.
Zugzwang gave her a rundown of what had happened; his infiltration of the police search, making it up to the Mayor’s office, placing the bomb constructed by Hobnail in the toilet tank, then his encounter with Phillip. As he reached the part of their duel in the clocktower, his voice went from cold monotone to a soft, excited tingle, the smile widening.
When the story was concluded, Scarlet stared at him in silence for several seconds, the gears turning over and over in her head. “So,” she finally said. “You had a chance to kill Phillip Finder and the Mayor. And you failed at both.”
“The same can be said of you,” Zugzwang stated. “I have to say, I was not pleased to learn that you had been plotting to kill Frau Mare yourself, without my knowledge or intervention.” He snorted quietly. “And your plan was scheisse; infiltrating the restaurant was a pathetic idea. If you’d trusted me, your friend might still be here.”
Scarlet glared at him. “Put simply, I don’t trust you,” she stated. “And your goal was the statue. Mine was killing the Mayor.”
“And was leaving Daring Do alive your goal?” Zugzwang commented dryly.
Scarlet growled in her throat, the acid in her stomach boiling beneath the great pressure on her chest. “A mistake that I will correct Bright Sparks for,” she stated. “Yet it remains that Phillip Finder and the Mayor are both still alive, because of you.”
“What of it?” Zugzwang scoffed, gesturing dismissively with his hoof as he extracted a cigarette from inside his coat.
“What of it?!” Scarlet snapped and stamped her hoof, her voice rising so loudly she almost thought that she could be heard from the other bank of the river. “Tête de noeud! Sans-couilles! Blaireau! Roi de cons! You concoct your elaborate scheme to rope Finder in, promise me you’re going to take care of him, and then as soon as things turn against you, you run away with your sous-merde tail between your legs! And you’re happy he’s still alive!”
Zugzwang, who hadn’t reacted at all to her tirade except to take a few puffs on his cigarette, turned towards her. “Phillip Finder is the one pony who has given me an actual challenge,” he said slowly, still not looking at her. “For years after my…” His face twisted slightly, as though in pain. “After I left my original position and started working for Herr Silvertongue,” he finally proceeded. “I was incredibly bored. There was a point in my life when I woke up every day, excited to try new ideas, formulate new plans. But not long after I fell in with Silvertongue, the world seemed to me a promontory. There was nothing new, no spark in my life. To be perfectly honest, I was contemplating suicide less than a year ago; life was barren and dull for me.”
Scarlet said nothing, though the bubbling acid was now burning her throat.
“But then he came into my life,” Zugzwang continued, his smile widening. “And I knew what I needed. All I needed. Him.”
As suddenly as though a switch had been thrown, Zugzwang rounded on Scarlet, the hidden blade snapping out from behind his sleeve and darting up at her face.
Scarlet’s body was suddenly coated in a maroon aura, and she slid back several feet. A pair of Neighretta Modello 1935 pistols, the red aura of the charging crystals inside visible through the barrels, materialized in her hooves and she aimed them both at Zugzwang.
“You will not deny me my one pleasure,” Zugzwang hissed, anger sparking distantly in his black eyes.
“You are not my master,” Scarlet spat back, the pistols not wavering a bit. “My master—”
“Your master is nothing without you,” Zugzwang replied, taking a step forward. “And you are nothing without me.”
Scarlet did not step back. “Is that so?” she sneered. “I could kill you now, and we would—”
“Would what?” Zugzwang interrupted, his voice still a cold monotone. “You can’t survive with your little army on your own, and none of the other gangs in this city trust or respect you. Coin Toss? He wouldn’t even give you the time of day. Star Cluster? He’d just laugh at you. Whitestone? She’d tear your heart from your chest and devour it before you said two words.”
He stared blankly at her, but the distant sparks of rage in his eyes remained. “You need me,” he hissed. “And I need Phillip Finder.”
“You think my master will let this go unpunished?” Scarlet spat at him.
“I think that the mare you have grown to see as a reliable friend is having a baby in the next room,” Zugzwang said quietly. “And I think it would be very unfortunate for them both if you were to inform him of this.”
Scarlet stared for a moment, then a growl erupted from her chest, her hooves nearly squeezing down on the triggers of her weapons. “You are no longer welcome here,” she spat.
Zugzwang just smiled and nodded. “Fair enough. Let me know when you need my help again.”
And with a flash of golden light, he vanished. Scarlet remained frozen for a moment, pistols still aimed at empty space, then slowly stood down, the weapons dematerializing again. “Connard,” she muttered to herself, telling herself that her hooves weren’t shaking.
A scream of pain from inside brought her back to the moment, and she turned and headed back inside. Trotting back down the stairs, she rejoined the group in a circle around Bright Sparks, whose mane was already damp with sweat. Taking some of the wet towels, she knelt beside her lieutenant’s head and mopped her forehead.
"That's it, honey," Black Licorice reassured her. "In...out...in...out..."
It seemed to take hours of screams, sweat, and tears of pain, but then, just as the last raindrops were hitting the ground, a new sound filled the cabin: the wails of a newborn foal.
“It’s a boy!” Black cried as she wrapped the little bundle of flesh in a warm blanket. Bright Sparks, panting, face red, covered her sweat and tears, sat up and feebly reached out her forelegs. Black gently deposited her son into her grasp as they all gathered around to look.
The little unicorn had a pale gold coat and a shock of blue hair. His crying ceased as his mother held him close, and he blinked curiously up at her with bright, silvery eyes like valuable coins.
Sparks sniffled, a wide smile creasing her face. “He looks like his daddy,” she whispered, fresh tears falling from her eyes.
A smile as broad as the crescent moon crossing her own face, Scarlet hugged Sparks and the baby gently. “Congratulations!” she cried, kissing the sweaty mare on both cheeks. “What will you name him?”
Sparks gently rocked the baby, who gurgled and cooed up at her. “Endeavor,” she whispered. “His name is Endeavor.”
The next morning, Phillip strolled into the police laboratory, shrugging his shoulders. “G’day,” he greeted the two ponies within.
“Good morning,” Doctor Suunkii greeted him from the table. “Congratulations on your success, Phillip Finder.”
“Your ward worked aces, Twi,” Phillip added to Twilight.
Twilight clapped her hooves. “Great! I can’t wait to write to Shining! How well did it work? How long did it last? Did you—?”
“Not now,” Phillip said. “Need to get back on Rosemary’s case. And I know how to find out who did it.”
“How can we help?” Twilight asked.
“Need to know who was there,” Phillip stated, pulling out lists of suspects and witness testimonies. “Need to know who was wounded. And I need the bullets from the scene. I know which one killed Rosemary.”
“How?” Twilight asked.
Spotting the case folder still sitting on the desk, Phillip flipped it open and removed the photographs of the scene. He pointed to one wide view of the scene. “This lamppost,” he declared. “Bullet went through Rosemary and ricocheted off this. It’ll have paint on it.”
“It’ll be in storage,” Twilight declared brightly. “I’ll go find it! Doctor, make sure the comparison microscope is polished!” She zipped off in a blur.
Suunkii smiled after his pupil, then bent over the comparison microscope. “Let us get to work, Phillip Finder,” he grinned.
The fat green unicorn stallion sprinted across the street, horns blaring in protest as cars screeched to a halt. Panting, he whirled around in place clumsily, pale gold eyes scanning the ponies that stared.
No sign of him. Maybe he’d shaken him off?
Best to be safe. The prey ducked into an alleyway, rounding a corner and stumbling over some discarded bottles. From the ground, he looked up and stared in horror. There was a wall of solid brick before him. No way out.
Breathing heavily, the old injury in his shoulder burning with every beat of his heart, the unicorn pressed his back against a dumpster and drew the black Badlands Minotaur revolver from beneath his vest. He gripped the weapon tightly, forcing his breathing to slow. No way was he getting him.
But there was nothing. Nothing but his own breaths, the distant sound of cars and mixed voices. Had he really lost him? What was he even after him for?
Slowly, the unicorn peeked around the corner…
A moment later, there was a loud whistling sound and something struck him in the forehead. The next thing the stallion knew, he was lying flat on his back, his aching head spinning. Then a heavy weight slammed down onto his chest, knocking the wind from his lungs like bellows and sending his revolver tumbling from his grasp, skittering across the asphalt. When he looked up, he saw a pair of stormcloud gray eyes glaring at him.
“Clover Leaf,” Phillip Finder snarled. “Your luck’s run out, mate.”
“What are you after me for?!” Clover Leaf cried, a faint Mareish accent still audible around the edges of every syllable. “If it was for that robbery in ‘48, I did my time for it!”
“It’s not,” Phillip growled, snatching up the revolver as two police officers sprinted up. “It’s about that girl you killed. The day you got that bullet wound.” He nodded to the faint scar still visible on his prey’s upper shoulder.
Clover Leaf’s jaw dropped in horror as Phillip shook the bullets out of the pistol. “At court, they’ll find that the bullet that killed Rosemary Harvest was a .442 Webneigh from your gun. It’ll match a bullet that you fired at that convenience store robbery. And you will go to prison for a long time.”
“It was an accident!” Clover cried as his hooves were snapped in cuffs.
“And this is justice,” Phillip replied coolly.
One week later, a Hayson Commander pulled into the parking lot of the Apple Pie in Your Eye and all four doors opened.
“See?” Phillip said, climbing out of the passenger seat. “I told you that you could trust me with Sweetpea.”
“You at least didn’t wreck her. I’ll give you that,” Trace stated, climbing out the driver’s door.
Red Herring and Daring Do both exited from the backseats. Red’s badge bounced off his chest, and though he smiled dimly, he walked with a faint stiffness, wincing slightly with every step. Daring smiled broadly from underneath the brim of her pith helmet, walking with a confident stride. She had a saddlebag strapped tight to her side.
“I’ve been dying for this since my first dinner at the hospital,” Daring declared, stretching her wings as they walked up towards the door, flanked by the yellow and blue lanterns. “Just hope Pinkie doesn’t put hot sauce in anything again.”
“She wouldn’t,” Phillip answered with a small grin. “That’d be too predictable.”
Daring snorted as she opened up the door, allowing them all to enter. “Y’know, sometimes, I think that my life could use a few fewer surprises.”
No sooner had she completed her sentence then there was the loud blast of a party horn and a rain of glittering confetti spilled onto their heads. All four ponies jumped back, hooves instinctively going for their weapons before recognizing that there was no threat from the great pink blur that was currently dancing around them.
“Welcome to your You-Saved-The-Mayor party!” Pinkie Pie declared, placing party hats atop each of their heads. “I set it up especially for you! C’mon in!”
There were fortunately only a relatively few ponies inside, including Cold Case, Captain Hewn Oak, Doctors Mortis and Suunkii, Twilight, Flash, Rainbow, Spike, and their friends, and all of them applauded as the group entered. A massive blue-frosted cake with the Ponyville Police Department logo painted in gold was placed at the center of a massive buffet table, which was populated by a variety of foods that made the mouths of the guests of honor water; peach pie, anzac biscuits, fish tacos, and macaroni and apple salad. Rara was up on stage with Steamed Carrot, the two of them performing a jazz duo on piano and harp respectively; Steamed opened one eye briefly to shoot Phillip and Daring a glowing smile before closing them again to block out the sight of other ponies.
Red puffed up his chest in response to the applause and trotted over to the bar, where Applejack waited with four massive tankards of foaming apple cider. “For the ponies of the hour,” Applejack said proudly, pushing a tankard forward for his consumption.
“You didn’t have to do this,” Phillip stated to Pinkie Pie, removing the party hat from his head.
“Yeah, you really didn’t,” Daring grumbled, taking off her party hat as well and giving it a contemptuous look.
“Aw, of course I didn’t!” Pinkie declared. “But you’re heroes! You saved the Mayor, you stopped Silvertongue, and you’re going to stop Zugzwang and Whitestone, and anypony else like them! You deserve to have a party in your name and give ponies a chance to say thank you!”
“You’re welcome!” Rainbow Dash declared from the bar, guzzling down a tankard of cider and leaving a foam mustache on her grinning lips. Daring rolled her eyes at her.
“So, thank you!” Pinkie Pie declared, pulling them both into a hug.
“And plus, this is a secret birthday party inside of another party!” she whispered into their ears. “I know how much you like secrets and mysteries, so I made this special for you!” She winked at Daring. “Don’t worry, I won’t spoil the surprise! Have fun!” And with that, she bounced off to Flash Sentry and began to urge him over to Twilight, ignoring their blushes and stammering.
Daring glared at Phillip. “You told her?!” she hissed.
“Of course not; you know Pinkie just knows things like that,” Phillip replied. “Calls it 'Pinkie sense' or summat. I know you didn’t want anypony big-noting you, so when Pinkie brought it up, I told her that, and she agreed.” He looked around at the party and let out a small laugh. “Should’ve figured she’d find a loophole. Still...it’s nice of her, right?”
Daring looked over at Pinkie, who had just “accidentally” nudged Flash in the back so that he stumbled forward and his nose wound up pressed against Twilight’s. The two ponies froze, blushing furiously, then Flash smiled and kissed Twilight on the lips. She relaxed and began to kiss him back. Smirking in satisfaction, Pinkie then bounced over to Bumblebee, who was speaking to Arc Light, the widely smiling Royal Guard looking very different without a bulletproof vest on.
“Yeah,” Daring admitted. “Yeah, it is.”
“Well, it’s our party,” Phillip stated. “We gonna join?”
“So what did you get me for my birthday?” Daring asked as they proceeded towards the bar. “Besides the book, which was amazing.”
“What else do you want?” Phillip asked.
Daring thought for a moment, then said, “To get drunk. With you, and all my friends. And then go home and have some really fucking amazing sex with you.”
Phillip smiled and grasped a tankard, clinking it against her’s. “Well, cheers,” he declared, and the two ponies proceeded to down the entire drink in one go.
“Mind if an old mare joins you?” a voice asked. Both of them turned to see Mayor Mare trotting up to the bar. Nervous Nellie could be seen a few feet behind her, devouring snacks and cake from the buffet table.
“Not at all,” Phillip declared, nodding to the stool next to him.
The Mayor sat herself down and was immediately served another tankard of cider by Applejack. “I cannot express how grateful I am to you both,” she declared, sipping at the drink. “You sent Silvertongue away, and now I owe you my life.”
“Just doing our jobs, Mayor,” Phillip stated.
Daring stared into her empty tankard for a moment, then added, “You wanna know who you really owe your lives to? Rainbow Dash and Mavri. They saved my life; if it wasn’t for them both, I might not be here.”
Mayor Mare nodded in contemplation. “Then I will make sure that they are both commended for their bravery.”
“Are they here now?” Mayor Mare asked.
“Rainbow’s over there,” Daring jerked her head towards Rainbow Dash. “Mavri...I invited him, but he wasn’t interested. He doesn’t like crowds.”
“I understand,” the Mayor nodded.
Daring took a breath. “There is one thing, though,” she added. “Mavri wanted me to talk to you about…” She paused again, her face contorting. “Bottgilia.”
Phillip cocked his head to one side. “The bartender?” Mayor Mare asked.
“Yeah,” Daring grunted. “He said that...he said that he’s a good guy, really, he just was forced to give us up to Whitestone, otherwise they were going to burn down his bar.” She grimaced. “Look, I don’t like saying this--I’m painfully reminded of the fact that he nearly got us both killed--but he’s got a point.” She took another long sip of cider. “He wanted me to ask if you could give Bottgilia a break,” she muttered.
“I will speak to the district attorney,” the Mayor nodded. She smiled at Daring and patted her on the back. “I’m even prouder of you now. You’re doing the right thing.”
“Just hope it doesn’t bite me in the ass,” Daring commented, more to herself than the Mayor.
“Nellie! We agreed, no coffee!” the Mayor suddenly cried, hurrying off to her assistant’s side.
Daring glanced around, then opened up the pack at her side and pulled out a pad of paper littered with tight hoofwritten notes. She scanned the bottom of the notes, then pulled out a pencil and started writing.
“What’s that?” Phillip asked.
“Nothing!” Daring cried, slapping the pad down on the bar.
Phillip gave her a deadpan stare. “Daring, I’m going to find out eventually. You might as well tell me.”
Daring sighed and handed him the pad. “It’s a story,” she mumbled. “When I was in the hospital, Rainbow Dash mentioned that I could write a story based on my life. And I was reading Hayana Pones, and…” She gestured at the pad. “That happened.”
Phillip scanned the page. “Compass Rose?” he asked.
“Y’know, ‘cause…” Daring glanced down at her cutie marks.
Phillip continued to read, his eyes scanning the writing. “Look, it’s not that great, I--” Daring protested, her face reddening.
“Shh!” Phillip stated, turning the page. He continued reading, seemingly devouring the words from the page. Daring watched in silence as he read.
“This is great!” he declared upon completing.
“You...think so?” Daring said slowly.
“Fair dinkum!” Phillip nodded. “You should finish this, get a publisher.”
Daring snorted. “And have to deal with adoring fans and shit? No thanks.”
“Could use a pen name,” Phillip suggested.
Daring paused for a moment. “That...actually sounds like a good idea.” She glanced at the pad, then placed it back in her pack. “Work on finishing it first, then we’ll think about a publisher.”
“Deal,” Phillip smiled.
“In the meantime...hey, Trace!” Daring called. “Bet I can put away more whiskey than you!”
“You must like losing,” Trace smirked, slapping his glass down on the bar.
Phillip sighed and signaled to Applejack to refill his tankard. He was going to need it.
In the corner, away from everypony else, Red Herring slowly shuffled up to a phone placed on the wall. He stared at the phone for a moment, then grunted and plucked a bit from the wallet tucked beneath his wing. He inserted the coin into the slot and plucked the receiver off the hook, dialing in a number.
The line rang. And rang again. Maybe she wasn't home. Red was about to hang up the phone when he heard it click.
"Hello?" a mare's voice asked.
Red was frozen for a moment, not daring to breathe, part of him still debating whether or not he should just hang up. Then he sighed and placed the receiver next to his ear.
"Hey," he said, a small smile spreading across his face. "It's Red."
"Red?"
There was a beat of silence, and then she spoke again, and he could hear her smile through the receiver. "Hey."
City Hall was closed for the night, the last employees filing out the door, a few carrying briefcases of work to take home, exchanging friendly good nights and final comments and plans.
The gray-plumed hippogriff janitor emptied the bin next to the mayor's desk into her large garbage can, grunting and sighing as her aged joints creaked. Morning Mist had worked at the City Hall for years, seen many mayors come and go, but she liked Margaret. Out of all the mayors who had served in that office, she was the only one who remembered her name and actually talked to her. She even remembered her grandson's birthday!
Margaret wasn't perfect, but she was a good one. Thank the spirits that had been watching over her that night.
Mist replaced the garbage can and wheeled her janitor's cart and trash can to the door. She paused at the threshold and looked over the entire office, smiling at what she saw. All the framed pictures perfectly aligned on the walls, the trash bins emptied, the desks neatly organized, and the coffee machine ready in the morning with a fresh filter and water. Even the ceiling tiles were dusted and set in place. Outside the freshly cleaned windows, the lights of Ponyville pierced the darkness, their assault supported by the stars up above.
"Good night," she whispered to the mayors past and future and switched out the light. The door closed and locked with a click that echoed through the empty room.
It's too bad that Morning Mist couldn't have seen through the ceiling tiles. If she had, she might have seen amidst the wiring and pipes that ran along the crawlspace, there was something anomalous tucked away behind a trio of steam pipes. A golden statue of Nightmare Moon, her three empty eyeholes staring, smirking into the darkness in victory.
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Hums Run On
And damn, does Scarlet have balls... metaphorically speaking anyways.
9629612
Run On? Never heard it.
9629634
Another name for God's Going To Cut You Down. The more traditional name, I think.
Also, the French profanity lesson? Very educational, might take it to heart as I have a Prench character... (Mind you, a classy one so...)
Loved it!
Wait wait, so the Restaurant plan was cocked up by Scarlet; and the Toilet Naplam Plan was made by Zugzwang!? I thought the Toilet Naplam Bomb was a Plan B! And now they're both angry at each other for failing to kill the Mayor?! Damn! And it looks like Zugzwang's Intrest in Phillip is simmilar to Sherlock's Intrest with Moriaty. Interesting.
Zugzwang in a nutshell:
i.kym-cdn.com/photos/images/original/001/459/810/7b3.jpg
Also, Scarlet apparently has a master. Who is it I wonder? Could it possibly be? The Author himself?
Me:
i.imgflip.com/2uz425.png
Scarlet, you don't threaten a powerful wizard. If you want to shoot him, shoot him. (preferrably with a sniper rifle from across the block)
And who might Scarlett's boss be?
Also, whenever the characters go home in an epilogue, a part of me expects it to blow up when they press the door knob. It probably means you're good at making us worry for the heroes.
Nice job Red.
Did you mean 'give Botgilla a break' instead of Mavri?
10081990
Whoopsie. Thanks for catching that!
How you like this so far?
Huh.
I have an OC named Compass Rose in development right now. What are the chances?
10794707
It took me a while to settle on a name for the in-universe AK Yearling series. Compass Rose was the best name I could come up with.