Chapter Two: The Medium
“Extol.” Icy read aloud from the thick tome in front of her. Once they'd all read through the new riddle a couple of times, she and Scootaloo had asked to come inside the schoolhouse early to look through a dictionary. Cheerilee has been a little taken aback by the request, but allowed it. Whether it was out of a desire for them to learn or curiosity about why they wanted to, Icy couldn't say. “Verb.” She continued before looking up at Cheerilee, who was over by her desk looking at the lesson plan. “That means a doing word, right?” When Cheerilee nodded, she kept reading. “To praise highly; loud; e-uloggize.” She looked up from the book, blinking.
“Loud?” Scootaloo asked, scrunching her brow in confusion. “Like, just being loud or doing it loudly or...?”
“I dunno.” Icy admitted. “But it's spelled wrong, with an A where the O should be. And I've never heard “e-uloggize” before.”
“Eulogize.” Cheerilee corrected, looking up from her paperwork, her smile as patient as ever. “And it's pronounce laud.”
“Laud.” Scootaloo muttered, getting a feel for the word. “Like a Canterlot snob kinda lord? What's it mean?”
Cheerilee was about to respond, though it was unclear whether to answer the question or admonish the insult, when Icy pre-empted her. “Hold on, I'll look it up.” She turned the pages of the book in thick chunks before coming to the “L” section. Slowing down, she scanned each page until she found the word she was looking for. “Laud. Verb. To praise; extol.” She frowned at the page. “Well, that doesn't help!”
Cheerilee sighed as she looked over at the two. “It means to talk a lot about something, compliment it a lot, talk about how good it is.”
The two fillies nodded and started thinking. A hoof went up to Icy's chin as she considered what the riddle could mean.
“Okay,” she said slowly as it dawned on her she still didn't have a clue, “I'll look up commune.”
“Wait a second!” Scootaloo interjected. “I got it! Something that talks about their role. About what they do. What's the thing a pony's got that tells people about their “soul and skill and role”?” She paused for a moment, only to continue when she saw Icy's blank look. “Their talent?”
That made it click. “A cutie mark.”
“Right!” Scootaloo exclaimed, smiling in triumph. “So we just need to figure out who has a medium for a...” She trailed off as she thought about the possibility. “How'd you have a medium for a Cutie Mark? Like, just something that says “in the middle”?”
“Maybe it means Medium like those people who pretend to talk to ghosts?” Icy suggested.
“Huh? Doesn't everyone?” Scootaloo asked. “I mean, when there's a ghost around, they let you know.”
Icy shrugged. “I dunno, I think it's like an acting thing. I tried asking Mom about it, but she just said it was a load of.”
There was a pause after Icy stopped mid-sentence. “A load of what?” Scootaloo asked.
“Dunno, that's all she said.” Icy admitted. “She just stopped after that and mumbled something about me being in the room. She seemed kind of angry about it.”
“Huh.” Scootaloo said as she took the information in. “Grown-ups are weird.”
“Yeah.” Icy replied.
Hearing their conversation across the room, Cheerilee did not disagree.
“So anyway,” Scootaloo said after a moment's contemplation, “we need to find a pony with a middle or a ghost-guy for a Cutie Mark. Won't be hard.”
Icy tilted her head, confused at Scootaloo's sudden confidence. “It won't? What, are you just going to go through the Cutie Marks of every single pony in town?”
“Pretty much.” Scootaloo replied casually before noticing Icy's disbelief. She smirked at her. “Please, you're talking to one of the three former... foremus... best experts on Cutie Marks. If there's a mark for something in the town, we'll have heard about it.”
The addendum “...because we've tried for them all.” went unspoken.
“I just need to talk with Bloom and Belle and we'll find the mark, you guys can relax.” And with that, Scootaloo trotted out of the door towards the playground, leaving a slightly lost Icy behind her.
“Okay?” She said finally. “So, just find whatever “medium” means and then...” She paused, her hoof hovering just above the edge of the dictionary, ready to close it. Spurred on by a sudden curiosity, she turned to the next letter on from where she was – M.
“Medium... Medium...” she muttered as she scanned through the words. “Medium! Here we go! Oh geez!” As it turned out, there were about fifteen different definitions of the word, most of which she didn't understand. “Hope he didn't mean one of these?” She said to herself as she looked through them. It seemed as though there was one main other meaning of the word but she couldn't see how it could mean that.
She was about to get up and try to catch up to Scootaloo - and since running in school was prohibited, this was one of the only times she might have been able to manage it - when the bell rang, signalling for all the students to come in.
Oh well, Icy thought, it can wait – I mean, how many Cutie Marks can they go through before recess?
***
“What about Soarin? He's got a lightning bolt right it the middle of his, maybe that's what it means.”
“Yeah, but he ain't in Ponyville, Scoots, don't see what he would have to do with anythin' round here.”
Apparently, a lot. Icy thought as she and the others approached the crusaders, whose conversation was just beginning to approach argument and able to see, just on the horizon, the possibility of bickering.
“Okay, well what about Daring Do, then?” Scootaloo suggested. “She's got a compass thingy for a mark. Like, the middle of a compass.”
“Scoots,” Apple Bloom sighed, rubbing her temples in frustration, “she ain't in Ponyville either. 'n fact, she don't even exist.”
“But Rainbow Dash said she was too awesome not to exist!” Scootaloo objected.
“Yeah, she did. Then she met A.K. Yearling and admitted she was made up, 'member?” Apple Bloom explained patiently.
“Yeah... I guess.” Scootaloo admitted, scuffing a hoof on the ground and remembering the discomfort on Rainbow Dash’s face when she told her that.
“Besides,” Sweetie Belle spoke up, having looked awkward in her silence throughout the exchange, “it's Prince Blueblood who's got the compass mark.”
“He does?” Scootaloo asked.
“Yeah, don't you remember? He tried to sue A.K. Yearling cause he said she copied his Cutie Mark for Daring Do.”
“Oh, yeah, I remember readin' 'bout that.” Apple Bloom replied.
Scootaloo sighed in relief that Apple Bloom had saved her from having to admit how little she kept up with current affairs. Or, at least, non-wonderbolt-or-Rainbow-Dash related ones. Of course, her best friends knew about this anyway and, if Scootaloo were called on it, she'd have said that all other news was lame and pointless, but it still wasn't the kind of thing she liked to admit.
Apple Bloom continued without noticing Scootaloo's silent look of thanks. “Did he win?”
“Nah!” Sweetie Belle assured her. “The case went on for a while even though everyone knew it was silly, but then he mysteriously broke his back legs and withdrew the case.”
“Wow, Sweetie, didn't know you cared about that kinda stuff that much.” Said Apple Bloom.
Sweetie smiled a little hesitantly. “Well, the only reason I remember is that that was the week Rarity got that limp in her front hoof she said she didn't have.”
That twigged Scootaloo's memory. “Oh, yeah, I remember that – I was gonna hang out with Rainbow Dash that week but then she said someone had “called in a favour” and she was gone for a day or two.”
“Huh, weird.” Apple Bloom mumbled before dismissing the thought. “Anyway, what 'bout that Cheese Sammich fella? His mark was split right down the middle.”
“Ah!” Scootaloo cried in frustration. “There are way too many marks that have got stuff in the middle. You guys sure you can't think of any ponies with ghosts or something?” The two shook their heads, causing Scootaloo to go off again. “Well, I dunno what else it could mean so...”
“Actually,” Icy interrupted, making Scootaloo whirl around in surprise, “I looked and “Medium” can also mean something else.”
Scootaloo thought for a moment before asking “What's that?”
Icy thought for a moment, trying to pin down exactly what the dictionary had said it meant. “It can mean, like, something that you send or do something through. Like... radio is a medium for sound, that kind of thing.”
Everyone paused for moment. Well, the Cutie Mark Crusaders and Icy paused – everyone else had been silent and enjoying the debate.
“So, like, water is a medium for fish?” Sweetie suggested.
“I guess so.” Icy said, trying to sound more sure than she felt. “But I think it's got something to do with communicating, like through a film or a radio or...”
“A letter?” Dinky asked. “Could it have something to do with the letter he gave us? Archer, do you still have it?”
Archer nodded, reaching into her saddlebags and pulling out the scroll Magic Eye had left. Unrolling it and hovering it in front of her, Dinky began reading it again. “But I don't see anything that...”
“Wait a second...” Scootaloo said, staring at the letter. Though, since Dinky was facing her and reading it, she was looking at the back of the letter, where the blue ribbon was still glued on. “Dinky, quick, roll that up!”
“What?! Why...? Okay.” Dinky looked up, surprised at Scootaloo's sudden command. Shrugging, she rolled the scroll up in her telekinesis. Taking the scroll in her hoof, Scootaloo wrapped the ribbon around it again, making it look as it had when they'd first found it, and placed in on the ground, the ribbon splayed out to either side of it.
“Say, that does look familiar.” Apple Bloom said. “Wait a minute – that's the Mayor's Cutie Mark!”
Everyone's eyes widened as they made the connection.
“You're right.” Archer replied, rubbing a hoof to her chin. “So the Mayor... Oh, you've gotta be... Double-named and double-maned?” She indicated two spots in front of her as if pointing out the words. “Mayor Mare!”
Icy looked up as she thought about this – she'd seen the mayor a couple of times, so she tried to picture her. “But how is she double-maned?”
“I think it's cause she dyes her mane.” Dinky suggested. For some reason, the Cutie Mark Crusaders looked a bit sad when she said that.
“She does?” Icy asked, trying to imagine the dignified Mayor dying her mane grey. “But it looks so natural and distinguished!”
“I know. But everyone found out when...” Dinky paused, looking over at the Crusaders. “Well, we all found out. Still, I heard she gets a discount on the dye now, so that's good at least. But I don't know what the riddle means about the moon. Does she talk to Princess Luna or something?”
“I think that means her glasses.” Pip pointed out. “My gran wears those kinds of glasses and she said they're called half-moons.”
“Wow, I didn't know that.” Dinky said, smiling at Pip, who blushed a little in response.
“So, she's got two half-moons, which means she's got one moon.” Archer reasoned out before facehoofing. “I dunno what's worse, the crimes or the puns.”
“So, he's going to rob the Mayor's house?” Icy asked, a little lost from all the realizations.
Dinky was about to answer when she suddenly stopped and looked over Icy's shoulder. Turning around, Icy saw Lance shaking his head. The photo of the pentagram was at his hooves – he'd apparently been looking over it while everyone else was arguing. He pointed a hoof at the middle-right picture – a V with a rectangle on top of it and an X inside the rectangle.
“Oh, I get it.” Dinky said as she looked at the picture. “That's supposed to be a pile of paper and forms.” It took a moment for Icy to recalibrate her perceptions, but she quickly saw what Dinky meant. “So, the Mayor and Papers...” Dinky thought for a moment before suggesting, “the town hall?”
Lance nodded as he picked up the photo again.
“Right, Town Hall it is!” Scootaloo said, smiling as she picked up the scroll and held it out in front of her, in imitation of her ramming stick (as she apparently called the pipe she used to joust people). “This time, creep... this time, we'll be ready for ya.”
***
“Couldn't we have waited inside the town hall?” Scootaloo asked, with somewhat less enthusiasm than she'd displayed that morning. “I mean, it ain't that big and we'd know if he got in, so why not wait inside. It's getting kinda cold out here.” She looked at her two companions. She seemed to be stalwartly resisting the urge to give them a full blast with the puppy dog eyes but still managed to come across as somewhat adorable. Not that anyone would ever tell her that unless they suddenly decided they had a desperate lack of bruises on their body.
It didn't help that the two with her were Lance, who was decked out in his full fencing gear, which provided plenty of warmth, and Icy, for whom cold was a thing that happened to other ponies. Both circumstantially and because she made it happen to them.
Icy rubbed her eyes a little. This made two late nights in a row for her, after all. Normally, she'd been told, on cases like this that happened over multiple nights, they'd trade off active duty so everyone could get some rest. That way, they were capable of functioning during the day at school and weren't exhausted for when they encountered whoever or whatever they were facing. However, as they were somewhat short-staffed, someone would have to come on stakeout duty twice in a row each night. Icy had volunteered to be that someone because, that afternoon, she'd been feeling rather perky and excited.
Hours later, that had faded a little.
“Didn't think you'd get cold that easily, Scootaloo.” Icy said, oblivious to the actual temperature. “Doesn't it get a lot colder than this when you're going, like, a bajillion miles an hour on your scooter.”
“Eh, kind of.” Scootaloo rocked her hoof side-to-side in a so-so gesture. “But that's different – on my wheels, I'm active, I'm moving, everything's moving, wings are going, wind's going through my hair and coat...” She trailed off, closing her eyes, the imagery fully overtaking her for a moment. She took a deep breath in and smiled. Then her eyes abruptly opened and she seemed to realize where she was. She exhaled far slower than she'd inhaled and her face took on a frown. “This is different. There's no movement, no action, it's... it's boring!” She exclaimed, flopping down on her stomach. “Guess my body gets as bored as I do and stops bothering to not get cold.”
Icy nodded in understanding – she was pretty sure that was how biology worked. Besides, she couldn't really argue about being bored, considering how hard she was having to work to stay awake.
Figuring that talking would probably help with that, she turned to look at Magic Eye's next target. “So, what do you think he's after? I mean, I'm guessing the town hall has a lot of money, but there's probably other stuff to take.”
“You got me.” Scootaloo shrugged. “Mom says that they've got huge stacks of money and jewels because they take every last bit from the hard-working common ponies and use it to line their pockets with fancy food and houses.” Scootaloo recited, not thinking about the image she just created.
Across town, Rarity's eye twitched for a moment and she didn't know why.
“But then Dad says they only take a little and they need the money to make the town not fall apart.” Scootaloo continued. “So, yeah, they've probably got some money in there.”
Icy considered for a moment – that had certainly seemed like a balanced debate on the merits of taxation, but it did mean there may not be as much money as she had thought. On the other hoof, maybe there was even more. But maybe there was other stuff that was valuable enough to take. On the other other hoof, Icy could not really comprehend the idea of valuable paperwork. On the other other other hoof, maybe Magic Eye was the kind of pony who really valued that kind of thing. He'd certainly seemed weird enough that she could imagine him getting excited over boring stuff. Or maybe...
After another three “maybe”s and two “Other hooves”, Icy was brought out of her thoughts by something changing in the corner of her eye. She looked over to see that one of the lights had been turned on in one of the smallest rooms in the town hall.
She looked over to her colleagues, both of whom had also noticed the change. At Lance's nod, all three crept out from their hiding spot behind the bushes of a nearby house. The owner of said bushes, a stallion by the name of Caramel, had noticed them hiding, but decided not to say anything for fear of invoking the wrath of one of the Crusaders – no matter how innocent the intentions, there was really no other way to describe what they did than “wrath”.
As the three approached the Town Hall, the light in the window clicked off again, but too late – they knew there was someone in there.
They moved silently up to the front door, Lance to its right, Scootaloo to it's left and Icy in front of it, ready to block it up with ice if anything came bursting out of it. Lance gave the door an experimental push and it swung inwards an inch – not enough for anyone to notice, but enough to learn that it wasn't locked.
“That's weird.” Icy mumbled before whispering: “Did either of you guys see him go in?” Lance and Scootaloo shook their heads before slipping through the door. Putting aside her questions for the moment, Icy followed them in.
The reception area of the town hall was exactly as one would expect the reception area of a town hall to look – plain, dark, plain, empty and plain. There was a plain, empty desk with a plain, empty chair beneath it and a plain, empty coffee mug on top of it. There were two doors on either side of the area. The left hand one was open and Icy could see through it into the corridor beyond. It was curved around, forming a loop through the circular building.
On the other side of the building was what most people thought of as the town hall – the big, open, decorated space used for celebrations and ceremonies. That was the public face of the government of Ponyville. This, however, was the true town hall – the place where work happened.
All of this was lost on the trio, who slipped through the open door into the corridor. It didn't take long to identify where the intruder was. There was a line of papers strewn across the floor, leading between two doors. The closer one looked to correspond with the room they had seen the light go on in, which seemed to be a storage room of some kind, and the further one had a faint light coming from underneath it, as if from a desk lamp.
Nodding to each other, the three moved slowly towards the further door, taking care not to disturb the papers on the floor and make a noise.
“Makes a mess, doesn't he?” Icy said under her breath. The others made no reply as they crept up to the door. A brass plaque on the door read:
Town Treasurer
From behind the door, they heard a near-continual rustling of papers, occasionally interrupted by the loud scratching of a quill. Giving the others a look of “be ready” (despite his face mask), Lance turned the handle and threw the door open, his sword leaping into the room a fraction of a second before he did. A moment later, Scootaloo jumped in and to the side of him and Icy, not wanting to be left out, leapt in on his other side.
“Hold it right there!” Scootaloo yelled, holding out her ramming stick parallel to Lance's sword.
The grey unicorn at the desk looked up at the fillies, his dark purple mane bouncing a little as he did so.
“Huh.” He said, raising an eyebrow. “That's odd. Normally, ponies don't start pointing weapons at me until tax season starts.” He looked over his apparent attackers. “Then again, you three are a little young to be paying taxes so...” He thought for a moment, apparently trying to reconcile these facts in his head.
While he was doing that, Icy and Scootaloo were looking at each other, a little confused, and Lance was trotting up to the stallion, stopping right next to him.
The stallion looked at the fully-covered colt, but before he could say anything, Lance's hoof reached out, poking the stallion in the chest, then the neck, then the cheek.
“Can I help you?” The stallion asked, seemingly not bothered by the pokes. Lance turned to the others and shook his head.
“Nope, you're solid. Pretty sure you're a grown-up.” Scootaloo supplied.
“Thank you, I'm sure.” The stallion said with a flat look before his eyes widened for a moment. “Hold on a second.” he reached down, opened one of the drawers in his desk and pulled out an envelope. “A young colt in a suit and mask dropped this off this afternoon. He asked that if a group of colts and/or fillies come bursting in here tonight, I should give it to them. I have no idea how he knew, but...”
“And you didn't stop him?” Scootaloo asked, annoyed at the stallion's nonchalance.
“Why? Was he breaking the law?” The stallion asked. “The last time I checked, wearing a mask was not a crime. He was probably just playing some sort of game.” He shrugged, unaware of how right he was.
Rolling her eyes, Scootaloo took the envelope and opened it, putting the paper inside on the floor where they could read it.
Iota Force 2 – Magic Eye 0
Very impressive, I must say – you've beaten me twice in a row. Or at least, my puzzle. As I'm sure you've noticed, I did not, in fact, attempt to steal anything – I am not so gauche as to rob a town of its necessary funding, after all. However, you have successfully figured out where I was alluding to and that's the important thing.
However, I'm sure you all know far better than to count me out of the game just yet. There are still plenty of opportunities for me to catch up and I don't intend to let a one of them slip by. As such, here's the next puzzle:
“The first baby
of the first child
of the first offspring
of the first disperser
of the first family's
first flamboyant fruits.
At last, at last,
the smaller ones
shall hear and cheer and jeer,
to see their underminer humbled
by a lowly larceneer.”
Icy was about to comment when the stallion spoke up. “Listen, kids, I'm sure that's very interesting, but do you think you could leave? It's probably past your bedtime.” Looking up at him, Icy saw the stallion glare at a huge pile of papers. “I know it's past mine.”
Feeling slightly embarrassed by the whole business, Icy slipped the paper back inside the envelope and trotted out of the room, the others following.
“So, what do you think this one means?” Icy asked as they exited the building.
“Well, I got an idea,” Scootaloo replied, uncharacteristically hesitant, “but you're not gonna like it.”
Stats
Page generated in 0.064 seconds
Total duration
936 users online
1,819,011 hits today, 2,139,894 yesterday
FIMFiction
My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic Fanfiction
Designed and coded by knighty & Xaquseg - © 2011-2024
Follow & Support Us
Support us
SubStar
Chat!
Discord
Follow us
Twitter
MLP: Friendship is Magic® - © 2024 Hasbro Inc.®
Fimfiction is in no way affiliated with or endorsed by Hasbro Inc.®
Icy shrugged. “I dunno, I think it's like an acting thing. I tried asking Mom about it, but she just said it was a load of.”
There was a pause after Icy stopped mid-sentence. “A load of what?” Scootaloo asked.
“Dunno, that's all she said.” Icy admitted. “She just stopped after that and mumbled something about me being in the room. She seemed kind of angry about it.”
“Huh.” Scootaloo said as she took the information in. “Grown-ups are weird.”
I love these jokes.
Heh. I thought that hair dye discount seemed familiar.
Sorry for letting this one sleep, but I'm loving it thus far. I'm with Scootaloo; that smug little so-and-so could do witha few punches in his smarmy face.
This sort of thing is great.
And you're right, it is funny. It's also inaccurate because Scootaloo heard it and they don't take her with them on expeditions, but it wouldn't be the first time logic ruined a joke and it probably won't be the last.
10614570
Just because Scootaloo heard them argue about it once at home doesn't mean they don't also argue about it while away.
Sweet Apple Acers. Has to be. Incidentally I finally figured out that the riddles are more important.
I assume the final target is a land mark in the middle (probably the town square).