In The City That Never Sleeps

by Moonatik

4 - Wine and Dine

17:35 - 16/06/1008 - Hayston, Manehattan

Bar 32.

Named as such because it was a bar at 32 Bucklas Boulevard, nestled in the Manehattan metropolis. A simple name for a simple place, as Sol put it.

“If you want a taste of the real Hayston, you’ve come to the right place,” he said as he pushed the door open, allowing Nightmare through.

The air in the bar buzzed with lively ambience, punctuated by the rhythmic clinks of glasses, the muffled chatter and laughter of patrons seated at booths and tables. A couple of waiters, clad in unassuming t-shirts branded with the bar's emblem - a bold '32' - navigated the space with seamless efficiency. In the background, a vintage jukebox serenaded the room with melodies of smooth jazz. The lights were low, but not too dim to easily see, providing an overall cozy atmosphere.

“Great drinks, great ponies, they even serve food if you’re hungry.”

“That you Nightshade?” An older looking earth stallion in a blue apron behind the bar was wiping out a glass, whilst giving Sol an unwelcoming scowl. “What’s a’ matter, too comfy in your big palace to stop by anymore?”

“Hey, I’m here right now aren’t I?” Sol trotted up to the bar.

The bartender’s demeanour quickly changed to a sleazy smirk. “Ahh, I’m just screwing around, Nightshade. What can I do for you?” His eyes fell on Nightmare. “And who’s this lovely mare?”

Sol gestured to Nightmare. “Sugar Wash, meet Dream Scaper.” Sol gestured to the bartender. “Dream Scaper, meet Sugar Wash.”

“What’s your poison, Dream Scaper?” Sugar Wash asked. “If you can name it we’ve probably got it.”

Tetrodotoxin. Or any other potent neurotoxins. Except she doubted that they had any of that to serve her with, and if they did it would be highly illegal. Instead, she just said, “Whatever tastes good. Alcohol doesn’t do much for me.” She meant that literally. It had no intoxicating effect on her unless taken in amounts that would kill a normal pony. She would need to drink every bottle of hard liquor behind the bar to even approach drunkenness.

“I think we’ll start with a couple ciders.” Sol shuffled forwards. “Sweet Apple Acres’ if you’ve got it.”

“Sure, you wanna run a tab?” Wash asked. Sol gave an affirming nod. Wash gathered two wooden mugs and placed them under a tap. A delicate yet heavy pull of a lever sent the amber liquid cascading through the tap and flowing into the awaiting mugs. Once both were prepared, Sol and Nightmare took one each into their magic. Already they caught the pleasant autumnal scent of the apples.

“Cheers,” Sol said cheerily, raising his mug to Nightmare.

Nightmare stared quietly into the cup for a moment. “Cheers,” she soon said. Their mugs met in a solid thud and they both took a swig.

The sweet, crisp elixir flowed into Nightmare’s mouth, leaving a tangy aftertaste lingering on her tongue after she swallowed. It was certainly a good drink, even though the alcohol was practically undetectable to her. Nightmare pulled the mug away from her mouth as Sol did the same.

“Ahh, yeah,” Sol sighed, satisfaction displayed across his face.

“Sweet Apple Acres, that name is familiar to me,” Nightmare mused.

“It should be, it’s a stone’s throw from the royal palace,” said Sol. “Ponyville folk are proud of it, can’t go anywhere without somepony asking you to try it.”

Nightmare held a hoof to her chin. “I recall there being an incident there a few years ago, something about a carriage jack. The details elude me.”

“Now that you mention it, I vaguely remember something…” Sol looked at the ceiling. “Think I met someone from the family that used to own it.” He took another sip of his drink. “I know they still live there and make the cider, and damn do they do a good job of it.”

Nightmare swirled the drink around in its mug for a moment, like it were wine. “Does your wife drink often?” She took another sip.

Sol smiled. “Oh, you bet.”

“What is her preference?”

“She loves Johnny Trotters, that’s more a special occasion thing. We’ve always got a bottle of Mountaineer’s in the suite.” He took another swig of his drink, then chuckled as he brought the mug away from his mouth. “Maybe you should have a case of the stuff sent to each of your other generals.”

Nightmare smirked and shook her head. “Perhaps I should.”

An earth pony in a flatcap trotted up behind Sol and put their hooves on the bar. Short brown mane, light red coat. “Yo Wash, gonna need another three beers, please.”

Sol swirled around to face the earth pony. “Hat?”

The earth pony turned to Sol. His jaw dropped. “Sol? Sol Nightshade?”

“Hat Trick, it is you, isn’t it?” Sol laughed and smiled.

“Sol, oh my gosh, let me get a look at you, dude!” Hat Trick put his hoof on Sol’s shoulder and leaned in, eyes scanning Sol’s facial features. “If it weren’t for your coat, I wouldn’t have recognised you. You turned yourself into a stallion or something?”

Sol chuckled. “More or less.”

“Holy crap, I called it! I freaking called it, remember?” Hat laughed. “I don’t think I’ve gotten a chance to see you before you got called up into the army.”

“Dang, you’re right. That was, what, six years ago?”

“Heard down the grapevine that you’ve been busy, got in a relationship with somepony in the top brass.”

“Yeah, Warmaster Selenite herself.”

Hat snorted. “You’re joking.”

“Really, I am!” said Sol.

“How’d you manage that?”

“Oh, that’s a long story.” Sol shook his head. “How’ve you been, Hat? I’m surprised I haven’t been seeing you play pro hoofball.”

“Yeah, well…” Hat held out his left hind leg, revealing a nasty scar running up the inside. “Life has a habit of throwing a wrench into your plans, even if you think everything’s all neatly laid out before you. Haven’t been able to gallop since.”

Sol had his hoof held to his mouth. “Ah, damn, I’m sorry. War wound?”

Hat chuckled. “How’d you know?”

Sol held out his right forehoof. “Got one of my own. Shrapnel, ripped right through my leg.”

“Eesh.” Hat pulled his legs closer. “I say that, but it could’ve been worse. Not like it’s all bad for me either. Moved up to Petershoof couple years back, got hitched to the love of my life. Kids on the way, too.”

Sol grinned. “Aw, nice!”

“I’m only here in Manehattan to see family, and they’re waiting for their next round of drinks.” Right as Hat said that, Wash placed three frosty filled glasses of booze onto the bar. “Wanna tag along?”

“Oh, I’d love to.” Sol smiled. He turned to Nightmare. “Say, N-” Sol faked a cough. “Dream, mind if I catch up with Hat, here?”

“Do as you please,” Nightmare said. “You would not be offended if I followed, would you?”

“Nah, come on,” said Hat.

Hat attempted to load the drinks onto a tray, but Sol carried them all up in his magic. Nightmare followed as they set off to their booth. Once there, two other stallions were already seated. Their appearances in colour and features were remarkably similar to Hat Trick, only one of them had a beard and the other had a mullet.

“Drinks here!” Hat announced, grabbing the attention of his two brothers. “Oh, this is Card-” He pointed to the one with the beard, “-and Party.” He pointed at the one with the mullet.

“You’re Sol aren’t you?” Party leaned in towards Sol. “Aren’t you married to the Captain of the Palace Guard or something?”

“Uhh no, my wife is the Warmaster,” Sol chuckled as he slid into the booth, placing the drinks on the table. Nightmare managed to fit on the end of the booth, sitting next to Sol.

Party shrugged and took a glass. “Same thing.”

Sol shook his head, laughing. “No, not at all really, not even in the slightest.”

“Any room for ponies like us in that big Everfree palace or whatever?” Card asked, clearly sarcastically.

“That is doubtful,” Nightmare answered, completely sincerely.

Card cocked an eyebrow at Nightmare. “And you are?”

“I am Dream Scaper,” Nightmare announced, puffing out her chest.

“Okay,” said Card. “I’m Card Trick.”

Nightmare blinked, her chest deflated. Sol motioned to speak. “Friend of mine from Canterlot, I’m showing her around town.”

“Canterlot?” Party laughed. “Dang, you really bourgied up, didn’t you?”

Nightmare would’ve rolled her eyes but she knew she couldn’t fault anyone for resenting Canterlot’s upper class. They were insufferable and snobbish a thousand years ago and hardly a thing had changed about them since. Aside from perhaps the exact methods they used to make their fortunes, they were one of the few things that had remained stubbornly persistent over the millennium. Instead she smiled at their comment in quiet agreement. Yet it remained to be seen, did that resentment extend to her?

“Well I just heard not two minutes ago that Hat was in the Army,” Sol said. “I wanna know about that.”

Nightmare’s eyes lit up. Two soldiers discussing their respective time of service? Finally, something Nightmare could understand! In fact, there was a good chance everyone sitting at the table had served, as it had been several years since she signed the still-in-effect conscription laws. And Nightmare had fought more than anyone!

Hat sighed. “I’ll be honest, I’d rather not talk about it.”

“Fair enough,” Sol shrugged.

Or not.

“Said you had kids on the way, though?” Sol followed up.

“Oh, yeah!” Hat’s expression flipped. “Been with my marefriend a few years ago, right as we were in the middle of planning our wedding…”

Hat kept talking, the other stallions kept listening and replying where appropriate. The conversation went on and on, bouncing around from topic to topic. Romance, work, sports, more minor interests than that. One of Hat’s brothers went on a wild tangent about tangerines. All the while, Nightmare was there, but she didn’t feel like she was ‘there’. Not a participant, but a spectator, as if she’d walked in on a play halfway through the performance and tried to follow along when she didn’t know any of the characters or anything about the plot. Where everything up to and including the very words they used were alien to her.

“Did you catch the game last night?” Hat asked Sol.

Sol groaned. “No, I missed it. Heard Hayston lost.”

“Lost?” Party laughed. “Worse than lost, they choked. We were leading the whole match and Riverpool got two goals in the last ten minutes.”

“Aw, seriously?” Sol said.

Card shook his head. “Yeah, I wish I missed it.”

“Do excuse me.” Nightmare stood up.

Sol turned to her, leaving the three brothers to continue their conversation uninterrupted. “Oh, you need a hoof with anything?” he asked. “You’re not overwhelmed at all, are you?”

“I can take care of myself,” Nightmare insisted, perhaps with a little too much ire in her voice. Without another word, she rushed away.

Meandering through the bar, she heard a cacophony of voices enveloping her as a multitude of conversations danced in the air. As all the chattering coalesced into indistinct noise, she whipped her head in every which direction in an attempt to catch something she could involve herself in. Or at least someone willing to approach her. Yet every last one of the patrons was wrapped up in their own worlds that shared the single common denominator of excluding her. Nopony paid her any attention. Nopony looked at her. Nopony even glanced at her.

Her ears flicked up at the sound of talking approaching behind her. Two ponies engaged in conversation walked right on by, encircling her, continuing on even as she stood right between them. Like they’d passed nothing more than a misplaced piece of furniture. Not even a simple ‘excuse me’. Her teeth grinded together. Was she nothing to them? Did they have no-

“Yo, yo, excuse me, Ma’am!”

A voice cut through the noise. Her ears twitched.

“Yeah, you, ma’am? The blue unicorn over there?”

Nightmare spun around to the source of the voice. Two pegasi seated in a booth, both looking right at her. One was a yellow stallion with their thinning red mane in a combover, the other was a light blue mare who had their blonde mane tied back in a ponytail. They were both on the same side of the booth, leaving the opposing seats empty.

The stallion sat up a little, gesturing to Nightmare. “You uh, you look like someone who knows a lot of things, and I’m trying to settle a debate with my sister-”

“Oh come on.” The mare shook her head. “It’s not a debate, it’s a matter of historic fact.”

An eyebrow raised, Nightmare walked up to their table and leaned in. “Go on.”

“So like, Commander Hurricane. You know him, right?” the stallion said. Nightmare gave an affirmative nod. “As far as I’ve known, like my whole life he was one of the great founding leaders of Equestria, and she’s here telling me that he was some kind of idiot!”

“Well, yeah!” said the mare. “If you’d actually read a book for once instead of just watching Hearth’s Warming plays, you’d know that, come on!”

Nightmare let out a quick chuckle. “Your sister is absolutely correct. Hurricane was a fool.”

“Aha!” the mare laughed. “Told you!”

“Ah, what?” Forcing out a laugh, the stallion’s glance was quickly switching between Nightmare and the mare. “Nahh, come on! Hey, why’d you think that, eh?”

Nightmare sat in the empty seats opposite the two ponies. “One need only study his disastrous leadership in the campaign against Tirek. Five thousand valiant soldiers were placed under his command and he led them to defeat. Despite the designated responsibility for matters of war resting upon m-mmph” She coughed, stopping herself before the wrong words came out. “...resting upon Princess Luna, Celestia foolishly allowed Hurricane to return from his retirement, because it just had to be him who took back historic Pegasopolis. I tell you, political cronyism in the armed forces always leads to disaster.”

“And, and!” the mare butt in. “If he was so smart, why did Private Pansy do a mutiny against him, hm? And why did it succeed? No way a master strategist would get kicked out of power like that.”

“Praetorian Panser,” Nightmare said. “That is her correct title.”

Both of their eyes went wide as they looked at Nightmare for a moment. “Are you a historian or something?” the mare asked.

Only then did Nightmare realise she hadn’t come up with an appropriate cover story to explain her identity. She assumed she wouldn’t need one. She could answer some questions about some relevant professions, surely, but history? Especially ancient military history? That was something she was more qualified than perhaps anyone in Equestria, possibly in the world, to answer. “Yes. I study military history for the Imperial Lunar Army,” she answered, smiling confidently. “Of course the exact nature of such work is highly confidential.”

“Oh, where are my manners?” the stallion laughed. He held out his hoof. “Crème Brûlée.”

The mare held out her hoof too. “Crème Fraîche.”

“Dream Scaper.” Nightmare smiled and bumped both ponies’ hooves. “Are your names Aquileian by any chance?”

“Yeah, our dad’s side of the family is from there,” Crème Fraîche said. “We’ve never actually been, but with the way things are improving between our two countries we might get a chance soon.”

Nightmare smiled. “I hear their wine is excellent.”

“So have I,” Brûlée said. “But honestly? All the best drinks I’ve ever had were made right here in Equestria.”

“Have you ever tried Johnny Trotter’s?” Fraîche asked Nightmare.

Nightmare’s ears perked up. “I don’t believe I have,” she answered.

“Well we gotta fix that!” Brûlée waved to a waiter. The waiter rushed over. “Three shots of Johnny Trotter’s, on the double!” he said.

Nightmare looked over her shoulder, spotting Sol on the other side of the bar. There was a wall between them in such a way that she could only see Sol in the booth, leaving the other three ponies he was with out of view. He caught sight of her and turned to face her, manifesting a thumbs-up hand with his magic. At least she thought it was called a ‘thumbs-up hand’, another one of those weird modern things that was only recently making sense. For the first time in the whole night, Nightmare gave him a sincere smile and nodded her head, manifesting a ‘thumbs-up hand’ of her own. Sol grinned cheerily, then took a swig of his drink as he turned back to his friends.

Curiously, with the wall there it was also unlikely that Sol could see who Nightmare was with.

Their drinks then arrived. Both Brûlée and Fraîche downed their shots. Each squinted and grit their teeth as they swallowed. Brûlée coughed a little, slapping the table. Fraîche giggled. Nightmare then drank hers. It went down easily as the alcohol had no effect, but the taste was excellent. Robust smoky notes combined with the warmth of caramel, followed with an indescribable aftertaste that forced her eyes wide.

“So wait, you said Hurricane fought against Tirek and lost,” Brûlée coughed. “How’d they actually bring Tirek down, in the end?”

Nightmare chuckled. “Oh, that’s an incredible story! You see…”

Questions kept coming from the pegasi, answers kept coming from Nightmare, drinks kept coming from the bar. Brûlée repeated ignorant misconceptions that Nightmare was quick to correct. Fraîche had far more relevant knowledge, but even a mouse would look gigantic compared to an ant. At some point they even bought a platter of pretzels and cheese to share, which the two pegasi gobbled up the lion’s share of as Nightmare was too busy detailing the weapons and tactics of ancient Equestria to even pay the plate any attention. Before she knew it, hours had passed like a blur. She wasn’t the least bit intoxicated, but she sure felt a buzz like nothing else.

“That was the key to it all! Coordination!” If Nightmare still showed her wings, they’d be fluttering. “Not peculiar contrivances or gimmick weapons, just ensuring broad clarity in the role of each commander and soldier! But the Suzerains? All of them were fighting their own fight, they deemed themselves exempt from a straightforward chain of command!”

“Ahaw, that’s incredible!” Brûlée laughed. “That’s the sign of a true genius!”

A waiter placed three shot glasses of whiskey on the table, and an empty bottle of Johnny Trotter’s Original. “Feel free to keep this as a souvenir,” the waiter said. “Compliments of the bar.”

Fraîche clutched the bottle and inspected it. “Oh stars, did we drink this whole thing?” she hiccuped.

Nightmare giggled, popping a potato chip into her mouth. “Goodness, how did that happen?” She washed it down with her shot, savouring the flavour.

“Oh yeah, we’re ready for the bill,” Brûlée said to the waiter. Both pegasi took their shots.

“Tell you what, on the way home, we’re stopping at that book store we passed on the way here,” Fraîche said. “They’ve gotta have a copy of Jade Lustre’s book, right?”

“I would hope so!” said Nightmare. “Equestria is finally relearning the truth of its obscured history.”

“Would they even open this late?” Brûlée moved his hooves like he was summoning an answer.

“Duh, everything’s open all the time, we’re in the city that never sleeps!” laughed Fraîche. “Manehattan’s been like that even before the eternal night!”

“I suggest you sober up a fair amount before you read it!” Nightmare said, half in jest and half in earnest. A waiter passed by and delivered the bill. Nightmare quickly snatched it away. “Oh, do not fret! I shall cover the cost.”

“Ah-” Brûlée reached forwards but snapped his hoof away. “Aww, Dream! Thank you so much! But there’s no way we could-”

“You have no need to concern yourself with this.” Nightmare grinned, interrupting Brulee.

“Well, I think we've got some reading to do, don’t we?” Brûlée laughed and got out of his seat. “See you Dream!”

“Yeah, you have a good night, Dream!” Fraîche hopped out of her seat and closely followed Brûlée.

“Yes! I hope to meet you again!” Nightmare waved as the pair ran off. With them gone, Nightmare looked up at the ceiling and released a breath with a smile. Even after all that, there was so much more she hadn’t had the chance to talk about. Oh well, she’d have more chances if there were any more ponies out in the world as interested in history as they were. Sighing to herself, she read the bill.

The total came to twelve-hundred and eighty bits. Nearly eighty bits a shot for the whiskey alone. Plus the snacks. “Hm,” she grunted. In truth, the value of money in the modern era was unfamiliar to her. Not just because she effectively had infinite wealth, but the units of payment themselves were unusual. Everything was either copper coins or paper notes marked with numbers that gave them value because ‘they just did’. On top of that, the actual cost of everything she used over the night was escaping her. The bus fare was what, four bits per pony? The cost of anything at the gun range wasn’t in her memory, and she wasn’t even present when the train tickets were bought.

Whatever, she could certainly pay. She retrieved a bag of coins she had stored in her pocket dimension, the total value of which had yet to be counted. It felt sufficiently heavy for a night in Manehattan when she gathered it. Using her magic, she quickly sorted them by denomination and counted them all out, reaching a total of one-thousand and thirty-five. Curses. Over two-hundred short.

Fantastic.

She’d have to humiliate herself asking Sol to cover the remaining cost. Clutching the bill in her magic, she rose from her seat and walked directly over to Sol’s booth, seeing him and the Trick brothers still laughing away over their drinks.

Nightmare gently tapped Sol’s shoulder. “Excuse me… Nightshade.”

Sol greeted her with a smile. “Ay, there you are! How’ve you been?”

“I’ve been well. But…” She brought him in closer to her, quickly taking a glance at the others to ensure they weren’t listening. “I will need to use some of your money to pay my tab as I am short on coinage,” she said quietly. “You know I cannot write a cheque in my actual name, I will reimburse you at the earliest possible moment.”

“Yeah, of course, how much?”

Nightmare presented the bill to Sol. “If you are so curious.”

Sol looked like he’d choked. “Thirteen thousand bits?” he snorted, hoof covering his mouth. “Oh my- ahaha, no way!”

That caught the attention of the others at the table. “I can afford the expense. And you misspoke, it is merely one thousand two hundred and eighty bits, unless you refer to this tipping custom bit I’ve heard of,” Nightmare said.

“H-how?” Sol looked at Nightmare, dumbstruck. “You said you didn’t drink!”

“I shared the company of two other ponies who proposed that I try a particular brand of whisky. I offered to pay the bill,” Nightmare explained.

“Two random ponies order thirteen-hundred bits worth of drinks and dump you with the bill?” said Sol.

“Wait wait wait, I don’t wanna sound like I was eavesdropping but-” Card had butt in. “Ahh, who were the two ponies you drank with? Like, what were their names?”

“Crème Brûlée and Crème Fraîche. They were siblings.” Nightmare answered plainly. “Why?”

The stallions stared quietly at Nightmare. They looked at each other, and then exploded into laughter. Nightmare flinched at the suddenness as each chuckle and guffaw burst forth between hiccups and coughs. One of the brothers was even slamming their hoof on the table. Yet Nightmare couldn’t share their amusement, blinking in befuddlement instead. What was it? Foreign names can’t have been that funny.

“Wait wait, lemme guess!” Party hopped up in his seat. “Brûlée was a pegasus dude with a combover, yellow coat. Fraîche was a pegasus mare, blonde mane in a ponytail, light blue coat. Yeah? Yeah!”

“Yes,” Nightmare answered.

“Ohh princess, I’m so sorry.” Sol was rubbing his hoof into his forehead, a grin on his face. “So like, what were you talking about?”

Nightmare sighed. “I fail to see the relevance of this, but… I was relaying to them my knowledge of ancient history.”

“Over expensive drinks, right?” Another bout of laughter from the four stallions.

“Yes. Over drinks.” She felt herself growing more irritated by the second. “What is so humorous?”

“No, no! Oh, boy!” Sol was shaking his head and speaking between short bursts of laughter. He calmed himself before he continued. “Look, those two? That you just described? That’s Sly Boots and Grass Snake. ‘Crème Brûlée and Crème Fraîche’ aren’t their real names, they’re not even siblings! They’re these two hustlers who make a killing off of out-of-towners who don’t know better!”

One of Sol’s friends let out another hiccup-laden laugh. “Pretty sure some of the bars in this town would go out of business without them!”

“Like that’s their standard playbook, make up a whole story to get your attention, rub your ego to get you comfortable, order the most expensive drinks on offer, and leave you-” Sol tapped Nightmare on the chest. “-with the bill!”

Nightmare’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean to say?” she seethed through clenched teeth.

“I’m saying you got swindled!”

Comments

[Matthais Unidostres]

Well, I can name two ponies who will be dead very soon.

[Heavy Weapons Guy]

They are so fucked

[bkam]

“Yeah, Warmaster Selenite herself.”

Hat snorted. “You’re joking.”

“Really, I am!” said Sol.

“How’d you manage that?”

“Oh, that’s a long story.” Sol shook his head. “How’ve you been, Hat? I’m surprised I haven’t been seeing you play pro hoofball.”

Honestly, I would love to hear how Sol and Selenite met some day.

Also, as others have said, there are two particular ponies that are probably not going to be around for much longer.

[iSleep]

A slight miscalculation on their part.

[KarlB591]

And the night was going so well...