Bug Out!
Shining Armor’s POV
Filthy’s Mansion
...
“Alright. I think that’ll do it.”
Morgue backed up, inspecting my elbows from several angles before he started snickering to himself.
“What now?”
“Nothing, it's just.” He cleared his throat to try stopping his giggle fit. It wasn’t working. “Apologies, rent-a-cop. I didn’t realize the bandages were for kids when I packed them.”
Confused, I tried turning my arms to look at my elbows where I spotted a cartoon fish pattern printed all over the gauze.
“Grow up,” I groaned, lowering my arms back down onto my lap.
After Morgue came back with the first aid kits, he moved us into this office where there were enough seats for everypony. Good thing too. Neither myself or Scootaloo, the girl I met, wanted to try walking down the stairs yet.
The two of us sat in these two comfortable chairs that faced towards the office desk where Morgue had all the first aid supplies. Meanwhile, on the office chair across from us, there was a suit jacket that looked more designed for a human like Morgue. He had been in here earlier.
“Still. Thank you,” I said begrudgingly.
“Hey. It’s like I always say. Hoy por ti, mañana por mi.” His smile grew all the larger as he dusted off his hands and walked towards the side of the room with bookshelves.
I watched him for a second. “What exactly is that supposed to mean?”
“It means today I did something for you, so tomorrow you do something for me. And good heavens, look at the time.” He feigned surprise as he rolled up his sleeve and looked at a watch.
“Looks like mañana’s here early,” he smirked. “So, if you could turn a blind eye to this.”
“To what?”
Instantly, Morgue turned around and pulled out an entire shelf’s worth of books before placing them down on the ground in a neat pile. As he did, a black safe was visible where the books were.
I glared. “How long did you know that was here?”
“Whole time,” he answered. “Did a quick check to see if it was safe for the kid to rest here. Then I noticed this shelf was a whole inch lower than the other shelves. Dead giveaway.”
From her own chair, Scootaloo was gawking at Morgue’s action.
“You can’t just take their stuff. Filthy Rich is a good pony!”
Morgue’s arms locked up as he started chuckling to himself. “You’ve gotta be joking.”
He turned to Scootaloo with that same sly smirk of his. “The snob who owns this place is called ‘Filthy Rich?’ And he’s nice? That irony feel crisp enough to anyone else?”
“It’s the truth,” she persisted. “I mean, Diamond Tiara’s kinda mean but her dad’s pretty cool.”
For a split second, Morgue’s smirk faltered into one of sadness. “Being mean is not something you’re born with, ya know. It’s learned.”
When that moment faded away from Morgue, he turned to look at me. “In all seriousness, weren’t you trying to figure out what’s going on with this town?”
He was right. A minute ago, while Morgue was tending to my elbows, I took the time to explain to them how the magic behind that dome works and how I was the only one who knew that spell. Neither of them probably understood the details of it but that didn’t stop them from listening.
Then, Morgue elaborated on what he saw in the town proper. Or rather, what he didn’t see. For the entire hour or so he was wandering the streets, he didn’t see a single pony.
He admitted that he heard a high pitched scream at some point in the direction of what he described as ‘a festival, complete with a Ferris wheel’ but since he was moving a sleeping Scootaloo, he didn’t want to put her in danger. So he went in the opposite direction and saw this manor in the distance.
Finally, we tried to ask Scootaloo what the last thing she remembered was before falling asleep but she gave us nothing. Apparently, whatever was keeping me from remembering what I did last was affecting Scootaloo as well.
For that matter, Morgue admitted the same as he tried to recall what he did last. The same blurry memories before a total stop.
Unfortunately, the last thing that Scootaloo remembered had nothing to do with this town having a barrier spell, or what happened to Ponyville’s citizens.
Coming back to the present, ahead of Scootaloo and myself was a large window with the curtains pulled open. The owner of this manor probably did that so he could see the town, but for now it let us see the barrier spell trapping us.
Morgue took my deep thinking as his opportunity to remove the shelf from the wall so he had clear reach of the safe. But Scootaloo had enough.
She leapt out of her chair and, with her small, orange wings buzzing to keep her balance, glared at Morgue. “I’m warning you. You better stop messing with his stuff.”
“That’s rich,” Morgue responded, not looking at her. “Coming from the girl still wearing their tiara.”
“Huh?” Scootaloo reached her arms up above her head and when her hands touched the platinum headpiece, she swatted it away and let it clamber to the floor.
“I didn’t know that was on my head.” she argued.
“Sure ya didn’t.” Morgue reached forward and, with a small heave, lifted the safe out from a cubbyhole. “Just like the owner forgot to install this safe,” he said mischievously.
“Put it back,” She demanded. She tried flaring out her wings to look bigger but Morgue only twisted his face into discomfort.
“Could you put those things away? The whole querubín gimmick ya got is getting to me.”
“G-Good. It should,” Scootaloo countered, having no idea whatever that word meant. Except, when neither made a move, Scootaloo’s face just got angrier until she finally burst.
She stomped firmly which, while as a pony might have seemed like a challenge, now made her seem out of her depth. “Put it back.”
“No.” Morgue turned up his nose like a kid, turning his body as if he were hiding the safe from her gaze. “Can’t make me.”
“Can you two please stop,” I tiredly begged. It sounded like I was dealing with two foals. “Morgue, why are you trying to steal from these ponies so bad?”
He gave me a sad smile. “Come on now rent-a-cop. Do you really care what my reason is?”
I took a moment to study him. “I want to know what your reason is.”
Rather than fight me, he gave a mock shrug and started fiddling with the safe’s combo and handle. “Well, answer’s not that exciting. The man’s a snob. That’s it.”
“But he’s not,” Scootaloo argued. “He’s a good pony.”
Morgue paused on the safe for a second, staring at Scootaloo as if she grew a second pair of wings. “Hold. Back up. Have you been referring to this Filthy Rich guy as some sort of...dwarf-horse, this whole time?”
I felt my face twitch. “What’d you just say?”
He flinched. “Oh. Sorry. That came out way more insensitive than I meant. Is the right term little horse?”
My face eased up a little but I was still frowning. “Well, yes, but that's not what I meant. You can’t go around calling everypony a horse either. That’s wrong too.”
“Wait, horse is where the line’s drawn?” He raised an eyebrow.
I glanced over at Scootaloo. She was still angry but I could see an ounce of understanding in her too. It made sense, it was a common mistake for non-ponies.
“In Equestria at least,” I explained. “Earth ponies, pegasi and unicorns are all unique in their own way. We don’t appreciate being called horses. Just use ponies.”
“Huh. What an unexpected PSA.” Morgue blinked. “Still. You’re really sticking to that whole ho— err, pony story?”
I narrowed my eyes but let it go. “Yes. Because it’s the truth.”
Morgue didn’t hover long over that fact. Instead, he shrugged and turned back to the safe.
“I want a straight answer,” I told him.
Even with his back to me I could see the bored expression on Morgue’s face. “If I told you, will you stop trying to play my conscience?”
Well, it doesn’t look like you’re going to listen anyways.
I put my hand over where I thought my heart was. “On my honor as Prince of the Crystal Empire.”
He chortled. “Really? A prince? You know, if you had slimy green skin and a creepy tongue I’d be more inclined to believe you.”
“He’s telling the truth,” Scootaloo vouched. “He’s Prince Shining Armor. I was a flower filly at his wedding!”
I smiled at the trust. I didn’t recognize Scootaloo earlier because she was this ‘human’ creature but after she asked me questions about my own wedding to prove myself, I remembered her too.
Her accusation made Morgue’s laughter silent “...Huh. Fine then.” He dismissed it with a turn of his head. “I’ll take you on your word then, Princy.”
I narrowed my eyes. Great. He respects me even less now.
“It’s as I told you before. I am an Honorable Thief. The leader, actually.” He regrew that sly smirk once again. “We Honorable Thieves steal from the types of people who either don’t deserve or don’t appreciate what they got. A.K.A.? Snobs.”
A regular day Robin Hoof, huh? I rolled my eyes. “And all the other stuff you stole from the houses in town?”
“Hey!” He sounded like a child. “I told you I left money to pay for those. But this ‘Filthy Rich’ snob? He has a mansion, an olympic sized kiddy pool and servant’s quarters. If he has servant’s quarters, he doesn’t need these shiny quarters.”
To further give emphasis, Morgue turned the lock on the safe as far as it would go and smacked the top of it with a fist. The lock turned with an audible click.
Scootaloo’s jaw dropped. “How’d you do that?”
“Impressed?” When Scootaloo gave no answer, Morgue frowned. “Every building in this town was made without so much as window locks. If safety’s not a big ticket issue, I figured the lock was lazy. One good thump on top’s all ya need to open one of these jokes.
“And now, the reveal.” Morgue rubbed his hands together and opened the safe door. Both he and I could see inside of it.
Taped to the inside of the door was a picture of an Earth pony family. Two parents and a child. The father gave a warm smile while the mother seemed distracted and bored. Meanwhile, the little filly was beaming at the camera.
Morgue plucked the picture and held it up for a good, long look. From what I could tell, he was studying every inch of the image carefully.
“Hey. Kid.” Morgue glanced up from the photo.
“The name’s Scootaloo,” she growled.
He didn’t snap back. “If you really are ponies, who lives here? This Filthy’s not a loner, eh? What do they look like?”
That’s when I noticed that Morgue was holding the photo in a way where Scootaloo couldn’t see it. It was a test.
Scootaloo didn’t understand the reason but when she saw me nodding along for her to answer, she did exactly that.
“Filthy Rich is an Earth Pony with a brown coat and black mane,” she described. “I think he’s always wearing the same tie too. Some of my friends think he has a closet full of identical ties.”
Morgue glanced back at the picture, nodding along. She described him spot on. “Okay. What about his three kids?”
“Three?” Scootaloo blinked. “Why do you think he has three? Diamond Tiara’s his only daughter.”
“Oh, really?” He brought the photo up to his face to hide his temporary smirk before it got too obvious. “Oh, you’re right. Lo siento, don’t know where I got three from.”
“It’s a good thing there’s not three,” Scootaloo went on, staring down at the tiara on the floor. “One Diamond Tiara’s already bad enough.”
Morgue glanced at me for a second but I was at a loss too. “How come?”
“She messes with me and two of my friends all the time and never lets us catch a break. It’s more annoying than anything.” Scootaloo crossed her arms, letting her wings rest as she found her balance.
Morgue looked back at the photo. “Know anything about the mom?”
“Huh?” Scootaloo snapped out of her frown and thought it over. “Not really? I’ve never seen her before. Even if I see Tiara or her dad I’ve never seen them with somepony that would look like her mom.”
“...Right,” Morgue mumbled. Then, out of nowhere, his face twisted into realization, then frustration, until finally—
“Urrgh! Well that’s just great!”
He took care to tape the picture back onto the door before closing the safe. He didn’t try to admire the small stacks of platinum bits inside.
“Now I gotta put this thing back, then write the guy an apology...” In his grumbling, Morgue wandered over towards the large window. “I should probably clean his house or something too.”
I don’t know why but the contrast in how Morgue was acting made me smile a little. “That’s all it takes? What happened to the whole ironic name joke you made?”
“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up Princy. But you can’t be an Honorable Thief without sticking to the code.” When Morgue reached the window, he set his hands on his hips and stared off into the distance like some pretend hero.
I let out a breath and thought his words over for a moment. It’d be better if you weren’t a thief at all. Nevertheless, it almost sounds like he means well. In his own backwards way.
When he started to actually look out the window rather than stare at it, his attention was pulled downwards toward ground level.
“Uh...Princy?”
I frowned. “I’d prefer it if you didn’t call me that.”
He shook his hand at me lazily. “Uh-huh, whatever. Before, you said there were different kinds of ponies. Are any of them black and shiny with holes in their legs?”
My jaw tightened. Changelings.
“Definitely not.”
When he heard the tone of my voice, he suddenly dipped to the side of the window, laying flat against the heavy curtain that blocked his visage from the window.
“There’s several of them out down there.”
I forced myself to stand, ignoring the stinging pain of my knees, and motioned for Scootaloo to get down; if one of them flew by the window they’d see her. Thankfully, she understood the problem too.
When she was behind one of the chairs, I shuffled as quickly as I could to the opposite side of the window and mimicked how Morgue stood with my back against the curtain.
“Help me close the curtains,” I whispered to him.
“Are you an idiot?” He whispered back. “With a window this big? We close the curtains and they'll spot it from a mile away.”
I rolled my jaw. He was right. Changelings had an eye for detail after all. If one of them noticed the office was visible already then closing the curtains would only paint a target on us.
“What are they doing?” I asked.
Morgue, very slowly, leaned out just enough where he could spy on them.
“They’re just...Sitting around.” He squinted his eyes. “Wait. Here comes another one.”
“Another Changeling?”
“No. This one looks like the ponies from Family Man’s picture. But gray. And. With glasses?”
“Silver Spoon?” Scootaloo thought aloud. We both shushed her and she was silent again.
I observed how Morgue was leaning and, carefully, I did the same to peek out from my side.
Standing outside were five Changelings and a gray coated mare. They were beside the perimeter wall built around the manor but our window was set directly above the wall which allowed us to see them clearly from above.
I noticed the mare holding out a clipboard in front of her with magic. Immediately after I realized it was a unicorn we were staring at. She was speaking to these Changelings as though she were in a board meeting.
Chrysalis? I wondered. No. She wouldn’t meet up with her Changelings. It’d be the other way around.
When the unicorn started manipulating the clipboard’s paper, Morgue leaned back behind the curtain.
“Was. Was that clipboard floating?” He realized just how loud he was and covered his mouth.
When I was sure none of them reacted, I looked at him. “Now do you believe me? That’s magic.”
“Are you serious?” He did a double take and when he confirmed the clipboard, and a pen, were indeed floating and moving around, he turned back to me. “I just thought you were a lunatic with an ice cream cone.”
I gave him a gruff look and we continued watching as the unicorn pointed at one of the Changelings with her hoof. Neither of us could read lips but we saw every action.
In response, the Changeling changed their shape, suddenly standing an entire head and shoulders higher than the other Changelings as it resembled a semi-bipedal canine.
Diamond Dog, I reminded myself.
Morgue, again, fell back behind the curtain, now with wide-eyed shock. He spent a few seconds lightly slapping the sides of his face, pinching himself, and rubbing his eyes as if trying to wake up from a nightmare.
“You okay?” I asked.
“Some demon horse just changed into a hulk dog,” he joked nervously. “How do you think this is okay?”
I gave him an apologetic look and turned back to watch the group. In the time Morgue was freaking out, two other Changelings changed form. One was an Earth pony with a light pink coat and a frizzy pink mane and tail while the other seemed to be a dragon. Not a giant one, thank Celestia, but one that seemed as tall as us.
Morgue flinched at what he was watching but forced himself to keep staring. Every time the unicorn pointed to a Changeling, that’s when they changed. So, as she pointed to the next two, one became a small cardinal and the last changed into a plain goat.
When every Changeling had their disguises, the unicorn said a few more things to them before they all dispersed. Only when they were all gone did the unicorn double check her clipboard papers and calmly walked off.
The moment all of them were out of sight, I stuck my head out further and scanned every inch of the outside that I could see. When I was certain, three times over, that they were all gone, Morgue and I quickly pulled the curtains closed.
“We need to leave,” I announced.
“No! Ya think?” Morgue spat sarcastically. “We were lucky those demon horses didn’t notice us.”
“They’re called Changelings,” I told him.
“Changelings?!” Scootaloo popped out from behind her chair. “What are they doing in Ponyville?!”
“I don’t know,” I admitted.
“What we do know is that staying here just became the worst choice we could make,” Morgue pointed out. “If those demon horses feel safe enough to meet up here then they’ll be back.”
“Morgue.” I put my full attention towards him. “What do you know about Changelings?”
“Only what I just saw,” he said. “If you got answers, I’m ready for ‘em.”
I nodded. “To try and make it as quick as possible: they can change their form to resemble any creature, pony or otherwise, that they’ve seen. They get in close with ponies and drain the love out of them. It’s how they feed.”
Morgue took a few moments to blink, keeping this wide-eyed expression.
“I know that you might not believe me but—” “Si. Estás loco,” he cut in. “But. I got no way else to answer what I just saw, so...succubus-demon horses it is. I’ll believe you. Few more questions though.”
Morgue held up one finger. “First. Leader?”
I nodded. “Queen Chrysalis.”
He held up a second finger. “They violent?”
“Not unless in extreme cases, which...” I trailed off while looking towards the window where the barrier spell is.
“Fair point.” A third finger. “Can they transform into stuff?”
I shook my head. “It’s always been somepony or a creature.”
He nodded along before his fourth finger went up. “Do they read minds?”
I opened my mouth but paused. Is he seri... I dismissed the thought. If he doesn’t know magic then he wouldn’t know otherwise.
“No. Unicorns can’t either.”
He visibly calmed down. “Okay, good. I was gonna freak if they did that. But, last question.” He brought his thumb up. “You have a horn. You tried to do something back in the dining room. Can you actually do magic?”
I looked over to Scootaloo who was shuffling on her feet. “Well, Scootaloo used her wings to keep her balance. If she has Pegasus magic then, with some time, I can use my magic.”
Morgue put his hand down, nodding to himself and taking some deep breaths. “Good. Good. Then...good.”
“Wait, not yet,” Scootaloo jumped in. “Morgue, are you really sure that you didn’t see anypony else?”
He gave her a sad look. “Sorry querubín. Not even in those empty houses.”
We could both see her eyes darting back and forth. She was getting worried. “B-But...” Then a light went off in her head. “Wait. You said there was a festival in town, right?”
“Maybe,” Morgue ceded. “But I wasn’t about to go there when you were unconscious in a wagon.”
“Because you heard something,” I pointed out. “You said you heard a scream?”
Morgue said nothing. He just closed his eyes and slowly realized what I was figuring out.
“That could be my friends,” Scootaloo almost pleaded. “We should go check.”
“No!” Morgue and I chorused. “No way are you going out there now that there’s Changelings buzzing around,” I added.
“But what if it’s somepony I know?” Scootaloo glared at us. “What if somepony’s in trouble?!”
Scootaloo’s words hit Morgue, draining his face of color. “Oh no.”
“What?” I turned to him.
“...” I could see the gears in his head turning.
“Morgue, what are you thinking?”
“...” Morgue slowly started to regret whatever he was thinking.
“You’re not going out there either,” I commanded.
He let out a weak chuckle. “Please, like you can stop me. Your mojo’s outta power, anyhow.”
“All the more reason that we stick together.”
“No way,” he declined. “We go in a big group and we’ll be found out in an instant. Besides, I’m a thief. It’s a skill of mine not to get caught.”
His bravado was slowly building up and my patience seemed smaller because of it. “If we split up then what’s to stop a Changeling from disguising itself as one of us?”
Morgue’s sly smirk came back ten fold. “You kidding? That’s the easiest fix yet. Watch closely.”
Morgue stepped backwards a couple of feet and held up his left arm. Then, methodically, he covered his left eye, knocked on his left shoulder twice, and pointed at us with only two fingers.
“Cover left eye. Knock left shoulder twice. Two-finger point,” he repeated as he did the motions a few times over. “When next we meet, I’m going to do two of them and you have to do whatever the third one is in return. You must use your left arm. Got that? Left. Arm.”
He repeated the motions a few more times until I had them memorized. Scootaloo was confused on the ‘why’ but I understood.
“I’ll keep it memorized,” I assured him. “But Changelings can be very convincing.”
“Which is exactly why, after we leave this room, none of us are to tell any person, pony, or imaginary friend the combo. Not even if you trust them. Comprendes?”
I gave him a hard look. “You’re really doing this?”
“Si. And no stopping me.” His smirk stretched out fuller as he turned back to Scootaloo. “As for you, querubín, what are your friends' names? And, in case they got human-itis, how can I pick them out of a crowd?”
Scootaloo took a second to consider it. “Well, their names are Applebloom and Sweetie Belle. Applebloom has this giant bow she always wears and this funny accent. Don’t tell her I said that last part.”
Morgue chuckled. “No promises. And Sweetie Belle?”
“Well, Sweetie Belle’s voice is a little higher and she has swirly hair. Uh, oh! A-And she was a unicorn before this. So she’ll have a horn like Shining Armor too. Same color too. I think.”
“It’s probably smaller than mine,” I explained to him.
“Giant bow and funny accent. Swirly hair, high voice and a horn. Got it.” Morgue gave her a brave smile. “Finally, is there something that the three of you all know? Like if I told them Scootaloo sent me, what’s a good way to prove it?”
Scootaloo considered it. “I got it. Tell them that I said no tree sap when we go crusading. That should do it.”
“Crusading?” I blinked.
“Not gonna ask about the tree sap?” He gave me a humorous look.
“The three of us are the Cutie Mark Crusaders,” she told us. “Crusading’s what we do to try and find our Cutie Marks.”
“...Nope,” Morgue stated. “Not asking any of those questions,” he told himself.
“That’s more than enough to work on,” he told her. “I’ll take a small stroll around town. In the meantime, you two try and get used to your human problem. When you’re not scared of the stairs anymore, take the cart I got parked outside and hit the road. It’s got supplies.”
“What about meeting back up?” I asked.
Morgue closed his eyes and racked his brain before turning back to Scootaloo. “Querubín? You said you were from this town, yeah? You know about the belltower on the outskirts?”
She nodded. “Yeah. I know how to get there too.”
“Good.” Morgue smiled. “I saw it in the distance when coming here. Take Princy and stash the cart nearby when you get there. I’ll meet you in...two and a half hours. Sound good?”
“What if any of us come across somepony?” I frowned.
“Unless you can test them, as in, ask questions to prove it’s them, don’t linger. Leave me some kind of sign at the belltower and I’ll figure it out. I’ll ditch anyone I don’t trust.”
Morgue pulled his jacket off of the office chair and put it on with flair before heading to the door. “Adios amigos.”
“Wait,” I called out. “You sure you’ll be alright?”
“Come on, Princy.” He settled his smirk on me one last time. “I’m a thief! Sneaking around’s what I’m best at.”
He gave me a wink and closed the door behind him before I could object.
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Ah, a continuation of the first fanfic I've ever read. And one that got me into fanfics in general. Can't wait.