Five Smooth Voices On The Radio
“Cinema, radio, television, magazines are a school of inattention: people look without seeing, listen in without hearing.”
-Robert Bresson
Across the thick glass, Planner watched the white mare, her head bobbing up and down to the beat of smooth dubtrot. He smiled, enjoying the muffled music as it washed over him. This will be fun, he thought as he studied the room he would soon be in.
The far wall was made up of a single massive shelf, stacked from top to bottom with records snugly fit into their jackets. Every other wall was made up of complex machines, altogether forming the beating heart of the tiny radio station. Wires snaked to a table with two microphones and a phonograph.
At that table was the showstopper, a gorgeous white unicorn, her magenta eyes flashing beneath thick purple shades as she danced on her seat, giddily awaiting the end of the song.
Planner watched as her hooves and magic worked the dials and knobs with practised ease. Oh, this will be fun. I love it when things are easy, just like the old days. He backed away from the glass just as the music faded to nothingness.
“Hey,” whispered a voice from behind him. Slowly, as if he had no worries, Planner turned and faced an enormously chubby earth pony, the folds of his fat almost touching the floor. “You’re not supposed to be here.” He pointed a flabby arm above a nearby door, one that led into the recording studio. There, a sign with a few missing bulbs proclaimed that the show was ‘on a r’.
Hmm, he’s supposed to be knocked out by now, he thought while glaring at the pony. “It’s okay, I’ll be quiet,” he said, placing a hoof onto his black bag absently.
The fat one fumed, his sweaty coat bristling. “No, you need to obey! We can’t have your voice picked up on the recording; it’s already bad enough as it is,” he hissed.
“Really?” I hate improvising. Planner frowned at him, his expression turning serious. “Wait, what recording? Where am I?”
The fat stallion blinked at him, all traces of anger gone. “Wait, what?”
“Have you seen my bag? The one filled with knives?” Planner began wandering the dirty room, tossing old magazines off of chairs and pushing plastic cups across the once trendy table in the room.
“Stop that!” the earth pony said as he raced past Planner, his back stretching as he bent to pick things off the floor.
Gently, Planner backed away and behind the chubby pony before reaching his bag. With practised ease, he snapped open the bag with two silent clicks and pulled out a shiny metal can of compressed air.
“Oh, this is the music place,” he said as if hit with sudden understanding. “I thought it was the zoo, what with an elephant like you around.”
The fat pony twisted around, face red, before his eyes grew wide. Planner squeezed the trigger of the can and a tight spray of its liquid streamed onto the pony’s face. His mouth opened and he made a few odd, childish sounds before slumping onto the ground, eyes rolling blankly into the back of his head.
The room grew relatively quiet once more, the corpulent pony’s breathing drowned out by the thumping bass. Smiling macabrely, Planner trotted back to the window and stared at the DJ’s back. Almost time, he thought as he glanced at the three watches strapped to his hoof.
Within, the mare’s horn lit up and the needle of her machine scratched off of the spinning disk. With a quick swipe of her hoof, she adjusted her headphones and leaned towards her microphone. “He-he-hello everypony! This is DJ Pon-Threee, coming to you live from Three-Oh-One-Seven. It almost spells ‘colt’! Got some afternoon news for you fillies and gentlecolts...”
Planner shifted his weight from hoof to hoof, smiling like a foal before dessert as he sensed his time coming. Excitedly, he glanced at his watches again.
“...And for a final bit of worrisome drivel, we still haven’t heard from the town watch about these three insane incidents. Guard Captain Shining Armour released a statement asking for any and all information on these dastardly events, promising a hefty reward for any real leads. Really guys, did it have to come to this? I mean, killing?” Within the room, the mare shivered visibly, shaking her head as if her audience could see her. “I don’t even want to repeat that word. And that bank robbery bit. Really? Now I’m placing bits that they're the ones responsible for that cheesy poetry.”
Planner pushed away from the glass and trotted over to the entrance with his bag in tow, sliding the door open with a quick twist of the handle.
As the door squeaked open, the DJ looked back at him, eyebrows popping out above the rim of her glasses. “What are you doing here?” she mouthed.
Ignoring her, Planner made his way across the room in the sudden stillness and sat in the seat across from her. His sack slapped onto the table with a light thump before he leaned forward. “Hello,” he said into the second microphone experimentally.
“Um, s’cuse me listeners, seems like we have a mystery guest. But don’t worry, he’ll be gone by the end of this song.” The mare climbed onto the table as she reached a hoof towards her phonograph.
Planner’s hoof snapped out, stopping a hair’s breadth away from the DJ’s. “That won’t be necessary, Miss Scratch.”
The raised eyebrows turned into glares. “Look buddy, this is my show, so how about you skedaddle before I call security?”
“All your coworkers are... indisposed.” With a nod of his brown head, he indicated the fat stallion.
“Chowder?” The DJ’s lip trembled for a second before she pulled her arm back and replaced herself into her seat. “Fine, I’ll play along for a second. Who are you and what do you want?” She crossed her arms before her, sneering at him all the while. “We’re still on air you know; bet you all sorts of calls are going out.”
“I know. I’m just here to make you an offer. And as for who I am. I am one of the three.”
“One of the three?” she murmured. “Wait! You mean one of the sick psychos that went around hurting ponies? Well, I ought to beat you up myself. I could use the reward!”
“Aren’t you interested in my deal?” he asked innocently, smiling within as the mare stalled.
The DJ stared at him evenly, hesitating. “Go on; I’ll stretch a little,” she replied haughtily.
He nodded. “Your little channel is falling on hard times. You can't keep up with the big boys and their better tech, reception, and advertising. You can’t even play decent songs because of the copyright prices soaring. And yet, here you are, trudging along like a trooper. I’ll offer you something you cannot resist: an interview with me. One of the most wanted criminals in pony history.”
Vinyl snorted. “Yeah, and all six of my listeners will adore that. So, should I go for the neck? Or maybe the crotch? What do you think?”
Planner hid a smile with a stray hoof. She’s feistier than I had accounted for; brilliant. “No, no, Miss Vinyl. You’re on every channel right now.”
She removed her glasses and gently placed them on the cluttered table, her magenta eyes capturing his undivided attention as they shone with awe. “Every channel?”
“Well, all those that count. All it took was some expert planning and a lot of bribe money. All paid for by the local bank, of course.”
“I didn’t even put makeup on...” she said dreamily while staring at her well-worn microphone. The object had suddenly grown much, much stronger, her eyes shone dreamily before Planner coughed.
She glared at him, sitting back down into her seat with a small sigh. “Alright, what’s the hitch?”
“No hitches, no gimmicks, and no trickery. Our goal is to end that sort of thing. All I want is for you to interview me for your very impressive audience, then I’ll be off.”
Vinyl coughed, touched her hoof to her chin, and hummed in thought.
She’s going to agree; she can’t pass this up.
“Alright, I agree, but don’t try to pull anything crazy,” she said, stabbing a hoof his way for emphasis. Planner smiled.
For a few moments, they remained quiet, staring at each other from across the beeping machines and coffee-ring marked table. “Wait, should I start now?”
“Whenever you’re ready, Miss Scratch,” he said with yet another glance at his watches.
“Uh, right, so you’re the one who killed that old pony, and who messed with that bank, and assassinated that rich guy?”
“Not quite. I’m the one who took from the bank, Dreamer is the one responsible for that old pony, and Executor is the one who rid us all of Filthy Rich.”
Vinyl shivered again, shutting her eyes before rubbing the bridge of her nose. “Okay, so you... three? Killed two ponies, robbed a bank, and poisoned a bunch of people. Why?”
Planner smirked. “Wh--”
“And don’t you dare say ‘why not’, or I will jump over this desk, and I will pummel you.”
Planner’s smile faltered. Maybe she’s too feisty. “Equestria isn’t what it used to be. There was a time where everypony wanted the best for everypony else, where everything was nice and easy; nopony had any ill-will. Then something happened. Some got greedy. Don’t get me wrong, rich ponies weren’t uncommon. Luck isn’t always fair and those who work hard deserve more. But these ponies, they were cruel.” Planner shook his head slowly. “They became ruthless. Stealing, corrupting. Five years ago, bribery was unheard of. Now...”
Vinyl watched him, uncertainty in her eyes before nodding. “Alright, so you’re prissy about unfair things and some mean ponies. Big whoop! Couldn’t you, you know, talk to the Princesses about it instead of going all gung-ho and killing ponies?”
“We tried, but the action taken was either too slow, or those responsible for taking it were already corrupt. The Princesses have nothing to do with this, nor do any of those who are just and right. We’re only targeting the bad ponies, those that deserve to be punished.”
“Deserve to be punished? You guys hearing this? So, you took in on yourselves to judge ponies for what they did, and kill them? What sort of sick freaks are you!?”
“Sick freaks? No, we’re just working for all of you.”
The white unicorn slapped the microphone closer to her face. “Yeah, then what are guards for? They’re here to protect and serve, and they’ve done a great job to date. You guys are going against the law, aren’t doing as the majority wishes, and have no respect for the lives of others.”
“The guards are fine, yet they are not perfect. Nor is the law, and the majority’s opinion can be twisted. We had to act on our own and make a statement, something so strong and fierce that any who even considers taking that path will balk. This isn’t in our nature. We’re not bad ponies, we just want justice.” Planner slumped into his seat, his shoulders sagging back. I wasn’t supposed to get so emotional. I need to get back on track; time’s running out.
“Right, well that sounds like a fat load of horseapples. I mean, how did you guys choose who? Why? And what made you tick?” Vinyl shook her head. “A pony’s life is sacred; you can’t just kill somepony like that. And that money wasn’t yours, even if the bank swiped it from their clients!”
Planner sat silently for a few seconds. “Do you mind if I tell you a story? My story?”
She shrugged. “Go on, you’re the interviewee.”
“Thank you. A few years ago, I owned a small business. An architectural firm. Small, composed of people who had worked there for decades. My father gave me the business when he passed away and I took it to heart to care for it. I dreamed of working on the Royal Palace, maybe meet the Princess. My talents had always been with planning and building, and time was my forte. I was never late and everything always happened in the right order. Still, not everything was perfect, and I had to sacrifice a lot of time to keeping the shop open. Even then, we were scraping the bottom of the metaphorical barrel.”
Vinyl yawned aloud. “So, what happened?”
“I was offered a contract. Biggest one in our history. It was a small job, relatively simple, but the pay was much, much higher than usual. I didn’t suspect a thing. Why should I? Ponies weren’t like that.” Planner laughed, a cold and harsh thing that rang across the small room. “I was so stupid.
“I met the pony who owned the building the day before construction was supposed to begin. He had a few changes to go over, even joked about how fast I was supposed to be and how it would only take a minute. It was blatant flattery, but it worked. They were odd changes, adding a room here and there, changing the location of a stairwell and the likes. I did it. It only took a few a hours.” Planner’s voice dropped into silence, fading out as he bowed his head.
“Okay, so what happened after?” Vinyl asked before propping her hind legs onto the table.
“Construction began and ended, all on schedule, the money was delivered, and he gave me a little extra with a quick wink about keeping quiet. I was happy, for a while. Then the guards broke into the place. Narcotics, zebra medicines, potions and elixirs from across the world, all of them with gruesome and twisted properties.”
The DJ replaced her glasses with a quick burst of magic. “Alright, so they did some illegal stuff, and I’m guessing those rooms you shifted around had something to do with it.”
Planner sighed. “Yes, but it went beyond that. My name was everywhere. Every receipt, every tag. I was the one ‘responsible’ for the crime. The rest walked away without a charge, hardly a slap on the wrist. I did get to accomplish my dream, in a twisted way. The Princess looked down at me, a mixture of scorn and sadness in her eyes while they dragged me to jail. I saw that rich pony paying off a guard that day. It didn’t take long for it to click.”
“You got framed?”
Planner nodded.
“You, uh, you need to speak into the mic. They can’t see you nod.”
“Yes, I got framed. Still, it gave me the opportunity to learn some things. About poisons and zebra herbology. Then I made a plan, because that’s what I do. The rest is rather dull.
The DJ groaned. “Nice sob story; I’ve heard worse. But it doesn't mean you can kill ponies, no matter how bad they are! And you’re scaring ponies. For the first time, I’m locking my doors at night and everyone is watching over their backs or murmuring about you.”
“Ah, but that’s not what we want. Our goal today is to send a message, not to those that are good, or who have done little harm, but to those who are corrupt. We would never harm the innocent. Most have nothing to fear from us.”
Vinyl climbed onto the table and screamed at the top of her lungs. “Horseapple! The ponies at the bank never deserved to get sick, and those customers of that ritzy place are all shocked now, not to mention my crew; none of them have showed up yet! How do you know that one of them won’t be scarred or get some weird reaction and die?”
Planner replied, his voice matching hers in strength. “If we don’t do something, they’ll never stop! How many more will lose their homes, work, and lives if we sit on our hooves and do nothing? How many will die when new weapons appear, when violence becomes acceptable and when the Guard’s name is dragged in the dirt?”
The DJ grumbled, tossing herself back into her seat as she mumbled incoherently. For a while, they remained quiet, her glaring at him while he simply stared back, trying to regain his composure. “I’m sorry,” he said. “This is the only thing we could do. We’ll never be accepted, and what we’re doing is wrong. But we are ready to face the consequences at the end. Until then, we’ll keep fighting for what we believe to be right. What about you?”
The unicorn blinked. “About me?”
Planner looked around the room, his eyes resting on ripped moldings, falling bits of plaster and a stack of broken machines in one corner.
“Er— right. I guess things aren’t going all that well for us either.”
“You’re on air, and I’m sure your audience would love to hear your story?” Will she fall for such an obvious change of subjects? Regardless, I have said what needed saying. Some will sympathize. Some will hate us. All will take sides.
She hesitated for a few more moments, pushing her shades up along her face before huffing. “All right. For a while, we were the only radio station, pumping out the best beats and slickest songs. Then, it became popular and the bigger companies jumped in and took over the market.”
“...That’s it?” One of his eyebrows arched.
She squirmed in her chair. “Well, yeah. I mean, they have better everything than us. Everytime we tried to sign any sort of contract, they’d swipe it from beneath our hooves. They bought out our customers and somehow, no one wants to advertise with us.” She sighed. “I can see the injustice, but I don’t think that your way of handling it is right.”
“That’s fine. As long as everypony can see the injustice and knows that somepony will act on it, then I am happy.” Planner leaned forward and grabbed his bag with his teeth before tossing it onto his back. “I believe this interview is over. Thank you, Miss Scratch.”
“Oi, you’re leaving, just like that?”
He froze, halfway to the door. “Don’t you have an audience to please?” With wide eyes, the DJ twisted around and started playing with her machines.
“Ah, uh, thanks for listening to us at Three-Oh-One-Seven. Remember kids, it almost spells ‘colt!’ This was your friendly neighbourhood DJ Pon-Three, signing out from our little shack with some phat beats and slick tunes.”
With a sly smile, Planner walked out of the room, followed by the rhythmic thump of bass. He made his way across the waiting room, stepping carefully over the slumbering form of the fat earth pony.
He hesitated at the doorway, taking a quick peek behind him. Vinyl was staring back, her mane curling around her face in such a way that it highlighted her bright, red eyes. She blinked at him, wonder, curiosity, an edge of fear glowing off of her as she smiled at him, a light blush reddening her white fur. “See ya,” she mouthed at him before he opened the door and trotted out.
I think I’m going to miss her, he thought as he entered the room and surveyed it with a quick eye.
A single fluorescent light cast moving shadows across the walls as it dangled from side to side, hanging by a few frayed wires. Two ponies lay on the ground where he was to pass, their chests moving up and down steadily as they snored peacefully, their bodies twisted into odd poses. Water was still gurgling out of a fallen water cooler, spilling across the linoleum floor and seeping into fallen sheets of paper.
Ah, I left her with quite the mess, didn’t I? I should have factored this in. He shook his head, chastising himself before snapping his bag open. Out of it, he pulled a thick wad of bits and dumped it on top of a tipped-over desk. That should cover it. He trotted forward and to the front entrance where three ponies lay in a pile, all of them still clutching plastic cups obtained from the water cooler.
With a final glance at his watches, Planner pushed the door open as he pranced out of the shoddy building.
The Royal Guard arrived within seconds of his departure, their soldier-filled carriages skidding to a stop ahead of the tiny building before unloading. The gawkers arrived moments later, eager to watch the capture of the infamous Planner. They were all disappointed.
The DJ, Vinyl Scratch, was promptly arrested and released in the same afternoon, walking out of the courthouse to greet a considerably larger fanbase than that morning. She smiled, shot a few quick jokes into the crowd, and proceeded to get arrested again for public indecency after highjacking the courthouse’s PA system and blasting her favorite songs.
From afar, a certain brown earth pony smirked at the antics, basking in the murmurs of the crowd falling back into a single debate: what was worse? Corruption, or vigilantism?
Soon, he knew, soon, all those that had worked to ruin Equestria would learn.
Later that day, a few questioned themselves about the brown, bag-carrying pony humming a tune about the Gala.
Ah, not sure how this one turned out...
Edited by:
-StapleCactus
-Frederick the Saiyan
-Cpl Hooves
-Your Antagonist
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This is up there, dude. And it's way cooler than Atlas Shrugged or The Fountainhead. But I'd have to say that's more due to the fact that you're a much better author than Ayn Rand.
Ah, yes! Finally, we get the full plot of this mystery story! One bit of this canon you've created I liked in particular:
-The Princesses have nothing to do with this, nor do any of those who are just and right. We’re only targeting the bad ponies, those that deserve to be punished.
I'm glad this didn't turn out to be one of those fics with Tyrant Celestia or something equally ridiculous that prevents me from being able to take it seriously. Good job!
As far as how this turned out, it's been another great chapter! This is seriously one of my favorite fics right now. It's right up there with stories like Background Pony and The Flight of The Alicorn. It's dark and mysterious without feeling too over-the-top for Equestria.
1456389
/thank you! That mood was what I was going for.
I like this darker, mafia/corrupt style of setting.
Do you plan this to be a shorter story or something longer? 'Caus I feel that right about now Celestia should be sending in a certain squad of six ponies to deal with this threat...
Also, is that book of yours out yet?
1459262
That book... not really.
And this should be shorter, around ten chapters or so.
1459295
That sounds like both a good and a bad thing (since I already have so many stories to catch up on.)
Which of your stories do you recommend I should start reading?
1459858
Well, my most popular ones are Of Steam Gears and Wings and Of Challenges and Kisses, both of them have nothing to do with this. There's also Of Journals, that one's kinda cool.
Oh, and a bunch of one shots.
I think I'll take steampunk for 100 ponies. It's on my to-read list, anyways.
I really like the way you have written this. It has a very unique feel to it that makes the whole thing fit together in its own unique way when combined with the overall tone of the piece. Reading this it feels almost like you are a mastermind sitting back and watching the pieces fall into place thanks to the analytical presentation and slow pacing of the chapters.
That said, this chapter feels a little bit weaker than the others, and I think it is because it is so dialog-heavy. It might help some if you tried to break up the dialog by inserting more descriptions of the room and what the characters are doing during the conversation because things seem to be moving a bit faster than they did in the previous chapters.
Still, this is great work overall and I am very much looking forwards to seeing more of it in the future.
1462046
Hmm, I'm worried that the next chapter might also be weak, would you mind if I sent it your way for investigation into that matter?
I don't get this chapters title.
And I don't like Planner anymore. He seemed the one with the most humanity (ponyity, can that even be a word?) but after this... Enope, lost cause, that one.
1462223 Go for it. My schedule can be a little bit erratic, but I should be able to make time for it fairly quickly.
This is some awesome stuff here, keep it up. (please)
1471975
Working on it!
1454806
That's really not saying a whole hell of a lot, though.
1528748
Oi, better than a well-known author is good enough for me!
1528786
Oh, definitely.
I just never miss an opportunity to bag on that hack Rand.
I wouldn't be following you if I didn't think you were a good author, dear.
So now we get a little bit of context with Vinyl Scratch playing audience surrogate. My biggest problem with this fic is that the protagonists' goals are so vague (kill corruption!) and their justification amounts to personal hardship and the central theme of the fic (why not?)
Yet we aren't shown how Equestria has become corrupt outside of the view of the protagonists and one DJ. You assure the audience surrogate that the Princesses are still totally fine, and Shining Armor seems on the level as well. I have no issue with amoral characters or characters that tend to and even like murder, but most authors set it up in a way that I can understand the context behind their actions and properly see their perspective.
Disregarding Dreamer's hints of a backstory, Planner's seems ridiculous. Did he even read the contracts he signed? If he did, how did his signature appearing all over the place set him up? Normally I'd be loathe to ask this, but are there no lawyers? Even with my paltry knowledge the evidence seems slim (even if his name's all over it, you'd think they'd look for where the money went.)
Lets assume you're very serious about how Equestria has legitimately never dealt with these problems for X amount of time (I've no interest in a discussion about whether or not this is supported in canon. Irrelevant to the story). Are you trying to set up Values Dissonance, where the ponies in your story are unfamiliar with the darker shades of life even though your readers are? If that's the case, then it is not reflected in the majority of this work. Mostly it is just your characters killing ponies 'cause they "deserved" it. True or not, in or out of story, it isn't presented in a way I find believable.
If you weren't going for trying to show readers how unequipped ponies are for rather shady business practices, then where is the justification for these murders? You seem to be taking a Dexter-like approach with having rather sociopathic characters do as they please, but Dexter's motivations and context within his surroundings are laid out even from episode one. I find the way you lay out what the characters do to be rather interesting, but without the context on why, its also pretty disgusting.