The Setup: A Discordant Proposal
Cancun, Mexico: 5:38 p.m.
I had it all planned out. Thinking back on it now, that should’ve been my first clue.
You see, I’ve always been good at coming up with stuff on the fly; improvising my way through when an otherwise spotless heist happened to go off the rails. But actually going step by step, sorting out every single detail down to the letter before I even start?
Let’s just say there’s a reason Bentley was always the one in charge of the planning.
Still, this time I really thought I had outdone myself.
A weeklong “forced vacation” for two of Interpol’s hardest-working agents? (Courtesy of our boss, and of myself for giving him the idea).
Check.
Exotic five-star beach-side resort in beautiful, sunny Cancun?
Check.
Ring?
My eyes flashed up to the case sitting on the dresser for just a moment.
Check.
A romantic dinner under the stars with Carmelita…
*KRAKA-THOOOOM!*
The lightning flashing outside my hotel room window, coupled with the sound of thunder, high winds, and the rain pelting the glass, gave me a moment’s pause as I worked on getting my stubborn bowtie just right. I kept my eyes on the vanity mirror, and away from the first-class view of black clouds, bending palm trees, and storm surge.
At least dinner by candlelight is still romantic... I thought, having to take a deep breath as I tried to ignore the icy pit in my stomach.
No plan ever goes off without a hitch. That’s a lesson I’ve taken to heart, but this was one curveball that I never saw coming. And neither did anyone else, for that matter.
When we left Interpol Headquarters in Paris, they called it Tropical Depression Number Seven, which had been strange enough to pop up this long after the end of hurricane season. However, by the time we arrived in Mexico a few hours later, it had been upgraded into a full-blown tropical storm so quickly that meteorologists everywhere were baffled.
And by the time we’d arrived at the resort sitting on the coast of the Gulf of Mexico, so had the inexplicably fast-developing storm, which now had a name to match its anarchic nature: Hurricane Eris.
So there wasn’t going to be as much fun in the sun as I had hoped, but we were still determined to make the most of it. At least, I was fairly certain that Carmelita was enjoying herself over the last couple of days in spite of the storm, which had decided to park itself right over Cancun and so far stubbornly refused to leave. We had enjoyed the local culture, food, music, and the full range of the resort’s indoor activities. (I’m not one to brag, but I was the king of the rock-climbing wall, and don’t let Inspector Fox tell you otherwise. Jumping to the top like that does NOT count).
But now, it was time to set the playful flirting aside and get serious.
Time to take the plunge.
Just like I planned.
Dinner… maybe talk a little about our last case in Russia… slowly build up the mood until it was the perfect moment to knock her off her heels...
And then…
I looked at the small red box again.
It was then that I realized that I had been “straightening” my tie for about twenty minutes now.
It shouldn’t have been this hard; after all, I felt like I’d known her my whole life. (Granted, that’s got some truth to it, but I couldn’t let her know about that).
We’d been through so much together over the last year, she had to know this was coming. Heck, I wouldn’t be surprised if she responded by yanking my ear and asking me what took so long.
I’m exaggerating, of course. Our relationship wasn’t really like that. At least... not yet.
Okay… focus.
Deep breath.
I looked up into the mirror one more time.
At the risk of sounding vain, I like to think that I clean up pretty well for a raccoon. And in that fancy getup, I once again proved more than capable of pulling off the “secret agent” vibe. James Bond, eat your heart out. That british bulldog's got nothing on me.
“Carmelita… will you marry me?” I said, rolling the words off my tongue as I tried them out, reaching for the case.
It was so light, yet, to think it held so much significance.
I opened it up to take a look over what lay inside, mostly to assure myself it was still there. (Hey, I used to make my living making valuable objects disappear, so sue me if I sound paranoid).
Pure titanium band with a platinum inlay and wreathing, set with a jaw-dropping four-carat fire ruby polished to perfection. Tough, beautiful, and fiery.
One of a kind, just like her.
“Carmelita will you… please marry me?” I repeated, although the inflection made me cringe as I heard myself say it.
What was I doing? Begging?
“How do I love thee, let me--”
I didn’t even need to finish that one. If I tried something as sappy as that she’d pull her shock pistol on me, and this time I’d actually deserve it.
“Inspector Fox, how would you like to become Inspector Cooper?” I tried more casually.
There must have been a writer’s strike in my head, because even Murray would’ve realized how dumb that sounded.
Another flash of lightning and a clap of thunder outside brought my attention back to reality as the lights flickered.
Oh great, that was just what I needed to add to the mood: a blackout.
I needed to stop wasting time and just go out there and do it, before I made myself sick wringing my hands over the whole deal.
“Okay… Show time,” I muttered under my breath, snapping the case shut and slipping it in my coat pocket as I checked the clock, glad that I had set aside so much time before I was going to meet the illustrious Inspector Fox for dinner.
It’s not my style to keep a lady waiting.
If only I had known as I left my room that I was walking out into a big ol’ storm of chaos.
And I’m not talking about Eris.
——————
“…Last I heard, he actually managed to recapture the spotlight in prison theater,” the lovely vixen in the black evening dress related, her Spanish accent lilting and an amused smile crossing her face as she leaned forward over the table. She was just finishing up the story of one of her more memorable busts. “As it turns out, most of his old opera fanbase in the Venetian Mafia was already incarcerated there.”
I managed to match her amused laugh at her retelling of the arrest of Don Octavio, the former “boss” of the Venice gangster scene.
She and I remembered Venice very differently.
Then again, I wasn’t supposed to remember Venice at all.
“And where was I during all of this, ‘partner’?” I asked as I sipped my wine, a question that I had found myself asking quite often over the last year, when I had to be careful not to let slip that I already knew the answer.
“Probably stumbling around in a back alley somewhere trying to find a clue,” Carmelita said, waving her hand dismissively, although her playful smirk indicated that this was clearly not the case, all for my benefit no doubt.
“Oh, my mistake, Inspector.” I rolled along with it, holding my hands up in an empty gesture of defeat. “I forgot that I used to be the bumbling constable to your supercop.”
“What do you mean, ‘used to be’?” Carmelita grinned roguishly before taking a sip of her ginger ale. I responded to her quip by leaning back in my seat, folding my arms, and raising my chin at her.
“Remind me again who blew our cover in Saint Petersburg, because I seem to recall having to violate several warrant obtainment protocols in order to rescue her from Boss Kodiak’s base of operations.”
“All part of the plan. We got the evidence we needed didn’t we?” Carmelita defended herself from the accusation. “And since you were acting in order to prevent obstruction of justice by way of abducting an Interpol agent, it gave us the legal standing to execute a search and seizure of the property.”
“Was me having to fight a giant robotic bear with lasers for eyes part of the plan too?”
“No,” my date allowed herself a small chuckle. “That was because you have the incurable need to impress any females who happen to be in the vicinity.”
I raised my eyebrow at her. “Did it work?”
“How couldn’t it? It’s what every woman wants for her birthday: a two-story mechanical ursine fireworks display.”
I couldn’t help but crack a smile. One thing was for sure, she was getting quicker with the quips during these verbal sparrings.
I am such a bad influence.
*KRAKA-THOOOOM!*
A sudden flash of thunder in the fancy dining hall windows of the resort and the subsequent flickering of the lights caused a moment of distraction, with Carmelita looking up and allowing me a chance to reflect on the situation and how it was developing.
There was no question that I was enjoying Carmelita’s company, but to be honest, this wasn’t exactly where I was hoping the conversation would be by now.
The case in my coat pocket was beginning to feel like a lead weight, as I found myself wondering if I should simply bail on the job and enjoy the rest of the evening.
...No, I couldn’t lose my nerve now. I had already put it off too long; waiting for her to take her mind off of work, waiting for her to settle in and relax a little...
Come on Sly, grow a spine. Five words... Just say it.
“Carmelita, I’ve been thinking...” I started, not quite sure where I was going myself as I got her attention. “We’ve been partners for a really long time... and it’s got me wondering if... maybe...”
“You know, this strange weather actually reminds me of something... Do you remember Sir Raleigh at all?” Carmelita interrupted me suddenly with a tone I knew all too well. I had dubbed it the “Voice of Deduction.”
As for Sir Raleigh the frog? The bored English noble-turned-submariner who created a weather machine, as well as the myth of a “Welsh Triangle” to cover up his piracy of ships traversing the Channel?
The one that bypassed my family home’s security systems when I was a child, allowing his band of associates free access?
The first member of the Fiendish Five that I put behind bars during my quest to avenge my family and steal back the Thievius Raccoonus?
Yeah... I remembered Sir Raleigh. I’ll never forget.
“Can’t say that one rings a bell.”
“This storm looks a lot like the sort that he made with his weather machine. Now, I’m aware that Sir Raleigh is still behind bars and the pieces of that machine are still in confiscated storage at Headquarters, but perhaps we have a copycat on our hands.”
“Carmelita...” I shook my head. “We’re on vacation.”
“I know, but what if--”
“It’s just a storm. Nothing sinister or evil about it,” I tried to reason, attempting once more to get out the right words before my courage fled with its tail between its legs. “And besides, I have something important to--”
“Excuuuuuuse me, Seniore.”
I felt my teeth grind at the interruption as a new presence made itself known at the side of our table. As I turned to face him, one thing was made abundantly clear: He wasn’t one of the wait staff.
He was tall and lanky, dressed in a traditional mariachi outfit complete with poncho and a ridiculously large sombrero on his head. His face was a grey-furred snout that immediately made me think “equine” although I couldn’t quite pin down his subspecies. Adding to that, the large black mustache he sported was almost comically stereotypical, as was his over-the-top accent.
“There ees a telephone call at thee front desk for a meester...” He held up a small piece of paper in his left hand, which was gloved, but looked disproportionately thinner than his right hand. “Syl-ves-tar... Cue-parr?”
I felt my ears flatten and my lips pull back in an involuntary sneer as Carmelita had to stifle a snicker, clearly enjoying my moment of discomfort.
In my entire life, only two people had ever called me Sylvester to my face.
One was my mother. The other was the harpy-like “Ms. Puffin,” who acted as Director of the orphanage where I grew up after my parents were gone. Nowadays, everyone I know calls me Sly, and the only places where my name is actually written down are my birth certificate, and the few scraps of legal documents I had to file when I went legit.
I took a breath, trying to save face after letting something as simple as that get under my fur.
“From who?”
“I’m afraid I don’t know about that, Seniore,” the mariachi shrugged. “I am just thee meessenger.”
“It’s probably just Headquarters checking in on us.” Carmelita shook her head with a smile, clearly amused by my reaction. “Given our reputation for finding trouble, they’re probably shocked that we haven’t yet made headlines. Go ahead, Sly. I’ll wait.”
My mouth worked for a moment, though no sound came out as my brain stumbled around for an excuse to ignore the sudden and unexpected summons. Unable to find a reason, I exhaled sharply though my nose and stood, my agitation (I hoped) clearly apparent to the culturally-overdressed messenger who merely stood there with his hands behind his back, nodding to me mutely.
As I started away towards the front lobby, I didn’t realize how much I would come to regret the fact that I wasn’t paying any attention to the predatory gleam in those red and yellow eyes of his.
——————
“Sly Cooper,” I told the receptionist with a bit more huff in my voice than was probably necessary. Just for added effect, I pulled out and flashed my ID, as well as my Interpol badge. “I was told there was a phone call for me.”
To her credit, the young mouse at the desk didn’t seem put off by the display of authority, merely nodding and reaching under the counter to bring out a cordless phone which she held out to me pointedly.
“Thanks.” I took it in my hand, bringing it up as I turned around and set it to my ear. “This is Constable Cooper.”
“Mister Cooper. Pleasure to make your acquaintance,” the voice on the other line sounded amused. “Constable, though? My, my... that won’t do at all. The last thing I need is a lawman.”
My brow furrowed immediately at the insinuation of the tone. That voice... There was something instantly familiar to it, but it wasn’t someone that I recognized immediately. It was an almost whimsical, devious manner of speech that for some reason filled me with a sense of dread.
One thing was for sure: It wasn’t Interpol Headquarters.
“Who is this?”
“A long-time admirer of your past work, Mister Cooper,” the voice on the other end stated. “And speaking of work, let’s cut to the chase, shall we? I have a job for you.”
“Sorry, I’m gainfully employed,” I dismissed quickly, trying not to betray the worry that I felt in my chest as I heard the words “past work.”
My record had been expunged; completely erased along with all video and photographic evidence of my previous life, courtesy of Carmelita and my old pal Bentley. The reputation of “Master Thief” Sly Cooper was still around, but quickly losing its impact the longer I went without turning up in the papers.
While I had kept my name, Cooper was reasonably generic enough to avoid the notice of all but the most astute investigator, which is the sort of analytical thinking the criminal underworld tends to lack. And even barring all of that, the only people who had ever actually met me in person were either my friends; who had made no effort to contact me, or my enemies; most of whom were either gone for good, behind bars, or (like me) had moved on with their lives.
“Yes, so I’ve heard. Settled down to combat red tape and play lackey to the oppressive global authority,” the voice replied, his tone mocking. “Trading freedom and excitement for stability and the humdrum of the everyday grind. Surely there’s some part of you that misses the rush... The thrill of the hunt.”
I felt my tail twitch.
This was getting too close to home.
“I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Ah, still sawing at that old bone, are you?” The caller sounded both amused, yet also annoyed. “You might be able to fool your friends and your new employers with that, my tricky raccoon. But you can’t fool me.”
“Is that so?” I turned about, trying to keep my cool and glad to notice that the receptionist was paying me no mind, too engrossed in reading some trashy Latin romance novel to pay attention to me.
“Listen, whoever you are: I don’t know where you get your information but you are clearly mistaken. The person you think I am is gone; nothing more than a forgotten memory.” I tried to maintain a calm tone while putting a bit more force behind my words. “So I don’t care what your offer is and I don’t want to hear anything more about this ‘job’ of yours. The answer is no. Never. Not a chance.”
“I must say, that hardly sounds like the attitude of a Cooper. That saucy damsel really has you by the tail, doesn’t she?” the voice stated with a sigh. “Going on and on about her boring adventures while you just sit there in your pressed suit, lapping it up like a love-struck puppy.”
My eyes went wide as what he said impacted me, causing me to look around the lobby, attempting to scrutinize every member of the hotel’s staff and the guests that were at the counters going about their business.
Whoever this person was, he knew I was here with Carmelita. He knew what we were talking about. He even knew what I was wearing.
I was being watched.
“Don’t bother trying to spot me; I’ve been at this for far longer than you can even imagine. This call was simply a courtesy, in hopes that this wouldn’t have to get any more complicated than it needed to be,” the speaker stated in a slightly menacing manner that made me just picture a large, maniacal smile on the other end of the phone line. “Not that I don’t appreciate a little ‘complication’ now and again... Something I feel I have in common with that daredevil Inspector of yours.”
Another sudden realization sent a chill up my spine.
If I was being watched, then that meant...
“Carmelita...”
The cordless phone clattered to the floor of the hotel as I broke into a sprint.
——————
Her seat at our table was empty; our deserts and glasses still sitting there half finished. The waiters and other guests were all still mulling about, completely and blissfully unaware of what was going on.
Needless to say, I was alarmed.
“Hey! You!” I grabbed one of the waiters nearest to me; a rather unremarkable-looking green iguana who seemed to bite back a retort to my sudden interruption of the service to his current table. I ignored the indignant look of the two French poodles nearby who were also displeased about my interruption. “The lady in the black dress that was sitting there! Did you see where she went!?”
“Uhhh... No, sir. I’m sorry.”
“What about the mariachi that was here? Giant sombrero? Black bushy mustache?”
The waiter raised an eye ridge at me, clearly confused.
“Sir, this is a five-star luxury resort,” he explained slowly, looking slightly insulted. “Just because this is Mexico doesn’t mean we don’t have standards.”
This information was not something I wanted to hear, but as I went over my brief exchange with the thickly-accented man in my head, it seemed all too obvious to me now.
How did I manage not to notice such a terrible disguise? I’m the best at terrible disguises! (And I’m certain Bentley would back me up on that).
Wait... Slow down, take a breath, Sly.
Carmelita is a spitfire. She isn’t the type to quietly be “escorted” out of a room filled with other people, and she somehow always manages to carry that shock pistol of hers. (Don’t ask me how. I’ve gotten to know her quite ‘intimately’ over the past year and I still haven’t figured it out).
No, she would have made a scene. Regardless of the nature of any threat made towards her, she would have responded immediately and with overwhelming force. The lack of nearby property damage indicated that this wasn’t the case.
So where would she go?
I turned about, leaving the iguana waiter watching me with a worried, confused look as I made a beeline towards the elevator, sparing a half a second to look up at the lit dial indicating its current position.
Top floor. Just perfect.
I pressed the summon button repeatedly with one hand while the other pulled out my cell. As I pressed the speed dial, I realized just how worked up I was getting over something that could have been just a freak misunderstanding. For all I knew, she might’ve just been in the ladies room and I was getting worried over nothing.
I tapped my foot impatiently as the phone rang three times, watching the elevator slowly inch down a level... then stop. Then down another level... then stopping again.
This was taking too long.
Carmelita always had her phone on her and she usually answered it before the first ring was finished.
Closing the cell, I left the elevator behind and went to the staircase leading up to the guest rooms. Sparing a moment to look around and make sure nobody was watching, I then literally sprang into action. With the help of a sudden surge of adrenaline, I decided to forgo the steps completely, jumping up on a side wall to propel myself onto the banister. I then expertly flew back and forth across the short gap, taking a floor at time, before giving myself a boost of momentum to land squarely in front of the hallway leading to our suites.
Up four floors in just over two seconds.
I was out of practice.
Still, all I was really thinking about at this point was Carmelita. If she so much as smelled a threat, her first move would be to get back to her utility bag. If she had time, she would also have quickly changed into her standard Interpol uniform, as well as that jacket she was so fond of.
As I silently sprinted down the carpeted hallway, I spared a moment to question myself. Was I panicking over nothing? So far, I hadn’t found any real evidence that something was wrong. That blowhard over the phone might have been miles away, watching feed from the hotel’s security cameras. And I had not yet encountered a single hired goon, indicating that perhaps the mysterious caller had expected me to be more receptive.
...Hah. Phone call. Receptive. I should write a book of this stuff.
I slowed my pace as I approached her door, thinking it best to not look like I had rushed up there after losing sight of her for ten seconds, and raised my hand to knock.
*KRAKA-THOOOOM!*
The thunderclap made my heart jump into my throat as the entire resort shook and the lights blinked out in an instant. In the sudden rush, I had completely forgotten about Hurricane Eris.
A complete blackout; something that had been threatening the resort for days had finally happened. I guess I should have considered myself fortunate that I didn’t wait for the elevator like most people, since by now it would have been stuck, with me most likely trapped inside.
As the hotel’s emergency lighting came on, dull red strips of luminescent tape brightening along the corners of the floor, I took a moment before rapping on the door.
“Carmelita?” I tried.
No answer.
“Carmelita, it’s Sly! Are you there?”
I huffed slightly as I looked down at the door handle. Standard double-grade mechanical lock supplemented by a card-reading magnetic seal. With the power out, the card reader was dead, which just left the basic deadbolt.
I rolled my eyes as I ran a hand up the door, digging my short-cut claws into the finely painted wood of the molding to pull away a single splinter.
Civilian locks, I mused, shaking my head.
I deftly slid the splinter into the mechanism with one hand and quickly turned it just so, holding my ear close to the door’s surface as I made out the tumbler combination.
*click*
*click-click*
*click*
*ka-chunk*
It was almost embarrassingly easy.
I opened the door quietly and stuck my head in, still fearful of a sudden ambush or, if I was lucky, a punch in the face for sneaking into Carmelita’s room while she was changing.
The room was pitch-black, but my raccoon eyes had already adjusted to the lighting, and I was able to make out my surroundings in crisp, clear lines.
It was empty.
Carmelita’s jacket hung on the end of her bed, her boots at the side and her utility bag, which contained her reading glasses, handcuffs, and any number of other pieces of equipment, lay undisturbed in a chair in front of the window. Outside, the storm raged on, rain beating the glass as the nighttime sky was briefly lit up with lightning, giving an eerie moment of illumination that only confirmed what I was looking at.
I moved into the room with caution, quickly ducking my head around the corner leading to the bathroom, which was empty, and to the closet, which was also empty.
*ka-chunk*
I swirled around in an instant, having drawn down into a combat-ready crouch, my senses all heightened as I realized the door had closed on its own.
It’s a hotel... The doors are weighted.
I was slipping. I should’ve remembered that.
Okay, so she’s not here, I thought to myself.
Where else could she be? I could check the reception area, make sure that there were no other major exits. Failing that, a flash of an Interpol badge tended to do wonders to--
I stopped as my hand reached for the door handle, my ears perking as the fur on the back of my neck bristled with an unsteady feeling.
I wasn’t alone.
*FWHIP!*
My reaction was pure instinct and muscle memory, twisting around and throwing my arm forward to catch the projectile. Instead of absorbing the momentum, I redirected it, bringing the weight around and to my side as I dug my heel into the floor, turning to face my attacker with his own weapon pointed at him.
By the time my brain finally caught up with what occurred a few seconds later, I realized how familiar the object in my hand felt... How... right it seemed. And as my eyes fell over it, I realized why.
It was a smooth, perfectly-polished, ironwood cane.
Without thinking, I slid my hand up the shaft towards the top and felt my thumb press against a hidden mechanism that I somehow knew would be there.
*CLICK-CLACK*
The top of the staff erupted and unfolded into a golden metal hook, blunted around the edges, yet angled to appear razor sharp. The top of the hook fell straight down, ending in a distinctive point to create a stylized ‘C’.
The symbol of the Cooper Clan.
I had seen countless knockoffs and recreations; attempts to perfectly imitate the weapon that had been passed down my line for so many generations. It may have been over a year since I held it in my hands, but there was no doubt in my mind.
This was my father’s cane.
My cane.
“Well, now... Color me impressed.”
My feeling of nostalgia was quieted in an instant as I looked past the cane and directed my gaze towards the window, where a tall figure sat silhouetted against the slightly illuminated, rain spattered glass. The lighting behind him cast his features in shadow, allowing me only to make out a lanky outline that seemed to be that of a tall, furry serpent with his hands in front of him, and two mismatching horns sprouting from his head.
Now, I might miss a detail once in awhile... I might have neglected to notice a weighted door or something like that, but there is no way I should have missed this guy, who was easily a foot taller than I was, hiding out in the open in the single bed hotel room.
Aside from the door, the only other entry point was the window, which was clearly closed and had been so the entire time. How could he have possibly gotten the jump on me?
“Perfect reaction time... acrobatic and manual dexterity in spades... and awareness bordering on a sixth sense,” the stranger offered a pleased appraisal. “And here I was concerned that you might have lost some of your edge.”
The voice was lilting, yet whimsical, and in an instant, I knew that I was now face to face with the same man who had taunted me over the phone.
“By the way... running off without even saying goodbye was incredibly rude,” the stranger stated, as if he knew exactly what I was thinking. “Given your initial reluctance, I thought it might be prudent for me to... reiterate my proposal in person.”
“Who are you?” I asked, my teeth gritted and every muscle ready to move at the next sign of trouble.
“Me?” The figure drew back, as if surprised by the question before a certain smugness returned to his voice. “Oh, I have had so many names over the years. Some in languages long since dead, some buried in history books thicker than you are tall. Yet, none of those would mean anything to you. I have been called Mayhem and Strife. I have been known as king and clown. To the gentlemen, I’m Miss Fortune. To the ladies, I’m Sir Prize. But call on me by any name, anyway it’s all the same.”
My stern grimace didn’t relent as the creature before me pontificated, then released a sigh as if realizing he wasn’t going to get a reaction from the less-than-amused raccoon.
“But if none of those tickle your fancy, very well... You may refer to me as... Discord.
*KRAKA-THOOOOM!*
At the declaration, a bolt of lightning illuminated the room, allowing me a brief moment to view the creature, quickly gathering details.
A lion’s paw... eagle’s claw... one leg draconic while the other looked like a donkey’s, and a red serpent’s tail. The head of an equine with a single protruding fang... mismatching horns, and multicolored segments of fur and scales.
And just as remarkable as the impossible composite creature was the lightning, the timing of which had been perfect to the point of being blatantly theatrical. Having been behind many elaborate diversionary setups before, I knew better than to be awed by it. Surely, even if this... thing on the other side of the room had somehow been responsible, it could’ve been as simple as a well-placed concussive round, combined with a strobe light outside the window to complete the effect.
Cheap theatrics meant to intimidate and throw me off guard. I wasn’t going to fall for it.
“Discord,” meanwhile, seemed to be disappointed by my lack of reaction and continued talking.
“Anyway, that’s what most ponies call me nowadays.”
“Ponies?” I asked, thrown off by his odd choice of words.
“Don’t worry, we’ll get to that in a moment.” Discord waved a hand in the dark, the light having since faded away and left him in silhouette. “Although I must say, you’re taking my appearance well.”
“You’re not my first mutant monster, buddy,” I managed, still keeping my cane at arm’s length. “You’re not even the strangest. Go back and get one of your gorilla/bat/elephant friends and we’ll start talking weird.”
Discord chuckled.
“Oh, how precious... You think I’m one of Doctor Mandrill's brain-defective genetic experiments.” The creature shook his head. “Sly, my boy... you truly have no idea what you’re dealing with here.”
“Uh-huh.” I shook my head at the boasting, for I had long since outgrown these sorts of mindgames. There was no way that this guy could expect me to be taking this lightly. “I’m sure. Now where’s Carmelita?”
“Again with Inspector Fox. Sly, you really are whipped, aren't you? Oh, I wouldn’t worry, she’s closeby... Quite close, actually.” Discord nodded. “But first... to business.”
“Business?” I repeated. He couldn’t seriously be standing there and expecting me to say yes after all of this.
“I have need of a thief. And I need the best.” Discord leaned forward, allowing me to better make out the details of his face in the dark. His eyes were menacingly red... and narrowed in a calculating fashion that gave me the impression of a shark eyeing its lunch. “And the best... happens to be you.”
“Then we don’t have any business together. I told you already, I’m retired from that line of work.”
“You’ll make an exception.”
The creature before me suddenly stood, revealing himself to be twice my size, having to bend his long neck over to keep his horns from scraping against the ceiling.
I hadn’t even realized that he’d been sitting.
Then he brought his hands together quickly and my body tensed, ready for whatever was to come.
*clap-clap*
The lights suddenly flickered on.
I felt myself deflate a little, and although I now managed to view Discord in full light, it didn’t change my earlier thoughts of him as some sort of genetic freak.
The only new detail I really got now was just how... jovial he seemed. How he carried himself with an airy, easy-going sort of grace...
It was then that I realized he actually wasn’t more than a head taller than I was.
He just happened to be floating a few feet off the ground.
“How are you...?” I trailed off, unable to explain just what I was looking at.
“Let us discuss this in a more... appropriate setting, shall we?” Discord offered, snapping the fingers of his lion’s paw hand.
There was a sudden flash of light... a disorienting surge in my chest... and the next thing I knew...
——————
I was sitting at a blackjack table. And while I was sitting at the table alone, there were people everywhere. Laughing, talking, eating, and playing games of chance all around as the ambient noise of the casino filled the air.
Hold on a second... I know this place!
“Mesa City?” I realized, looking around at the crowds. It was certainly livelier than my last time there, which wasn’t surprising, since my previous visit had outed the villainous Muggshot, who had taken over what was now a more legitimate form of vice in the Western United States.
Mexico was at least a thousand miles south of where I now sat. How could I suddenly be in Mesa City, USA?
“That’s...”
“Impossible?”
I twisted around, realizing that I hadn’t been transported to this place alone. Standing in the dealer’s spot was Discord; this time dressed to play the part with a green visor over his brow, an unlit cigar wedged in the corner of his lips, all while dressed in a standard casino dealer’s uniform.
“I never did like that word. I hear it and I just say ‘So what?’” He grinned as he shuffled a deck of cards absentmindedly.
Realizing my cane was still in hand, I snarled, standing up and bringing it around with a flick of the wrist, the crook of it directed at the creature’s neck.
I’m not normally a violent person, but this was getting crazy even for me.
“How did you do that?” I asked roughly.
“Oh, it’s simple, really.” Discord smiled, clearly not feeling at all threatened by my weapon. “I wanted a change of venue for our discussion, so I made it happen. When you embody the very essence of chaos, little things like ‘space,’ ‘physics,’ and even ‘magic’ don’t do much to deter. Now if you would kindly take your seat, we can begin.”
“I’m not doing anything until you tell me where Carmelita--”
“SIT DOWN!”
The sheer power behind the sudden command was beyond anything I had ever experienced before, forcing me back into the player’s seat as if two heavily-muscled goons were weighing down my shoulders.
Around me, nobody seemed to notice what had happened, continuing to go about their day as if everything was business as usual.
Okay, admitting this guy was some sort of “magical creature” was still a stretch, but at least at this point I was convinced that he wasn’t just another of Dr. M’s leftovers.
Discord took a quick breath, his agitation seeming to dissipate right before my eyes as he calmly approached the subject again.
“Just... hear me out, Sly.” He nodded, smiling again. “If you don’t want to provide your services after that, then the choice is still yours to decline my little offer. Just settle down and listen to what I have to say, and I promise I’m prepared to give you back your girlfriend.”
My eyes narrowed on the creature before me, who extended his taloned hand while his lion’s paw still managed to somehow continue shuffling the deck.
“What do you say? Have we got a deal?”
I glared at him a moment longer before asking: “What are you, the Devil?”
“Hardly,” Discord grinned, his one fang gleaming in the casino’s garish lighting. “Although we do sometimes get together for golf on the weekends.”
I didn’t laugh, instead reaching up and very reluctantly shaking the creature’s talon.
“Tough crowd...” Discord shrugged as he pulled his talon away. “I seem to recall that you used to have a sense of humor, Sly.”
“I still do, just not when someone is holding my partner hostage.”
“Then let us get all of the exposition out of the way, shall we?” he stated, finishing his shuffling with a flourish before cutting the deck.
“As I said, my name is Discord. And I come from a world quite unlike this one.”
“Hold on. You honestly expect me to believe that you’re some sort of alien?” I asked him disbelievingly.
“This will go much more quickly if you don’t interrupt, Sly,” Discord chastised me for a moment, narrowing his eyes in annoyance before nodding. “And I happen to be a draconequus. I suppose ‘alien’ suffices... although ‘extradimensional’ would likely be more accurate.”
He flipped over a card and placed it face up on the table, but instead of the usual playing card image, it displayed a green and blue world that seemed similar to pictures I had seen of Earth... except the continents were all wrong.
“This is Equis, where I am from,” Discord explained before drawing and laying down another card, this one showing a picture of a lush landscape with colorful-looking feral horses on it. “Also home to Ponykind and numerous other thinking creatures, most of whom live in a country called Equestria.”
He laid out another card, this one showing two creatures that I would’ve considered completely fictional... They looked like the horses from the previous card... but had wings and horns.
“It is a dreadfully boring place, ruled by two elemental spirits much like myself known as Alicorns. They have set themselves up as goddesses to be worshiped among the common mortal beings, and impose a strict rule of law that restrains their subjects from exercising any true free will in the name of peace and security.”
“What’s wrong with a little stability?” I asked, trying not to voice how crazy this whole thing sounded.
“Stability is one thing, Sly. But these princesses champion the status quo to the point of stagnation.” Discord glowered, turning the card over to reveal a military parade of golden armored stallions marching past the two “princesses” in a clearly dictatorial fashion. “Now, as you have no doubt noticed, I am not a saint, and I have never claimed to be. But there are times when a touch of chaos is required to make the world a better place. I have made attempts in the past to ‘liven things up’... Tried to inject a bit of excitement into my precious home. As a spirit of change, that is my duty, after all: To shake things up.”
He laid down another card, which showed a pictogram of himself apparently being “blasted” by six of the brightly-colored equine creatures.
“But the Princesses’ hold over their subjects is far too strong. They cast me out, declaring me a monster all because I wanted to free them from their overly sheltered lives. By now, it’s more of a cult than a government they live under. The ponies are forbidden from advancing... from learning... from voicing opinions. Dissenters and other species are subjugated and exploited by the diarchy... Or in some cases...”
He set down another card, this one showing creatures of a similar build to the ponies, but black with insect-like wings.
“...completely scattered to the winds. Such was the fate of Queen Chrysalis and her Changeling Hive. Declared monsters simply for wanting to be loved and all but obliterated because they had the audacity to attend a wedding uninvited.”
I sighed, surprised at how sympathetic the creature before me sounded as he described the regime his home was under.
“What does this have to do with me?” I asked.
Discord smiled before laying down another card, which showed an odd set of gemstones in a golden circle.
“The diarchy’s entire cult-like authority is held together by a unique form of symbolism. Six gems that are supposed to contain the embodiment of their false goddesses’ power. They are referred to as the ‘Elements of Harmony.’”
I definitely took note of the disdain with which Discord named the gemstones. There was hostility there; more than he had shown at mentioning these two princesses or their vice-grip government.
Turning the card over, he showed a new picture of five ordinately designed necklaces and a tiara, each of which, to my keen eye for value, seemed to equal or perhaps even exceed any of the pieces I had managed to nab in the past.
“The diarchy recently had the Elements set into these pieces of jewelry and gave them out as status symbols to their most loyal followers in order to ‘vanquish’ manufactured threats, duping the average pony into seeing them as extensions of their goddesses’ will.”
“So?”
“So...” Discord leaned forward quicker than I could pull back and tapped the top of my head with his lion-like paw.
There was a sudden flash of light and a shift in the air around me as I felt my fur constrained in some places and falling free in others. A familiar tightness wound around my temples and eyes, and a slight weight perched upon my head. A quick look down at my body and I realized what had happened.
Gone was my formal suit, tie, and slacks. And in their place: the same blue shirt that I had worn on the job for years, my red leg pack wrapped around my thigh, and my blue sneaking boots firmly on my feet.
My hat, gloves, and Binocucom, a custom-made communications, tracking, and photo-taking computer built into what looked like a simple cloth mask, completed the set as I realized I was back in an outfit I had thought I would never wear again.
“You... are going to get them for me.”
I looked up at Discord with a furious glare.
“That’s it?”
“That’s it,” Discord nodded. “Without the Elements, the diarchy will lose its support. All it takes then is a little nudge of chaos and change will be well in hand. Or rather, well in hoof.”
I didn’t like this. There was something that I wasn’t being told here.
“Why don’t you just take them yourself then?” I questioned. “You clearly have the power, ‘Mister Dimension-hopping, Teleporting, Chaos Spirit.’”
Discord made a sour face, setting down the cards as he held out his hands with a disgusted expression.
“Nahh... You see, I tried that once before. Unfortunately, it doesn’t work that way,” he explained, although it seemed as though he hated having to admit his shortcomings in the matter. “There are some laws so ancient that even a Spirit of Chaos must obey.”
Discord then smiled again, picking up the scattered deck and performing an elaborate and showy display of card shuffling.
“You on the other hand...”
He pulled a card off the top of the deck, which I recognized as an image of myself... only from a few years back. The Gossman Heist. A ten million dollar stamp owned by the devious money launderer Chimp Gossman. A stamp I had later mailed Carmelita on a postcard as a joke. My first “impossible” job.
Another card was set down. Another job: The Louvre. My gang and I had stolen dozens of “priceless works” and then sent them to Carmelita with an instruction book on how to identify counterfeits, which in turn exposed the largest art smuggling ring in European history; a conspiracy going all the way up to the Director of the Louvre himself.
One more card hit the table.
Dubbed by the few who were aware of it as the “Crime of the Century.” The assault on the Cooper Vault through what could only be described as the most secure fortress on the planet, built by the former thieving mastermind behind some of the greatest capers in history.
My last job.
“You are a thief. I can get a dictionary if you like, but the general gist is that you steal things,” Discord explained. “Because of that, by breaking the rules I must obey, you are acting within your own rules. For years, I have watched and studied countless others all across the multiverse. Crooks and robbers and burglars of all shapes and sizes. I have gauged their abilities and now, having seen it for myself, I am certain. You are without a doubt the best.”
He leaned back, his expression strangely compassionate.
“If not for me... then for the ponies of Equis. Steal the Elements of Harmony away from them and you can help me save them from their own stagnation... give them the ‘push’ they need to move forward.”
I crossed my arms, refusing to fall for his sappy appeal to my conscience.
“Are you done?”
Discord nodded, which let me push my own concerns back into the light.
“Where’s Carmelita?”
The draconequus deflated a bit, a bored expression over his face.
“Really, Sly. You have got to get over that woman.” Discord sighed with an air of disgust. “She’s been holding you back since you first met. If you weren’t constantly going out of your way to support her career, rescue her, and play the dashing romantic hero, you would be even further along than you are now. We both know that you are the only reason she ever made it to where she is today.”
“We had a deal. I listened,” I told the impossible creature in front of me. “And as sorry as I am for your world and the ‘ponies’ that live there, it’s not my place to impose your change on them. I’m not a revolutionary, or some hero...”
I set my cane out in front of me on the table over the cards that Discord had been laying out, an action that caused the draconequus to narrow his eyes towards me.
“And I am not a thief. Not anymore.”
“I’m disappointed to hear you say that, Mister Cooper,” Discord huffed in annoyance, shaking his head. “Larceny is in your genes, Sly. It’s in your blood, and has been for hundreds of generations. Your ancestors, your father...”
“I am not my father!” I set my hands against the table as I stood. “I’m not Slytunkhamen or Rioichi or Sir Galleth or Henriette! I’m just me! And I listened, just like I promised! Now give her back!”
“Very well...” Discord’s expression shifted, a smile crossing his lips as he picked up his deck of cards again. “Allow me to lay my cards out on the table.”
He fanned the cards out in his claws, then reached up and plucked one seemingly at random, flicking it towards me to land face up on the table.
Looking down, my heart stopped.
Like the others, the card didn’t show a playing suit, but a picture. But it wasn’t an image of ponies or gemstones. This card had instead a perfect representation of a nearly flawless vixen in a black evening dress, her expression one of confusion as she looked up at me, frozen in the image.
Don’t ask me how I knew it was more than just a picture... what made me certain that it wasn’t just a trick. But somehow, I understood that within this card, by some magic or power that was beyond my understanding, was trapped one of the few people in my life that had ever given it any meaning.
My blood all but boiled at a realization that the creature in front of me had pulled a fast one.
“WHAT DID YOU DO!?” I lashed out, our little exchange still going unnoticed by the crowds of people around us.
“We had a deal,” Discord grinned, clearly amused. “She’s right there. You can take her home now.”
As I said before, I’m not a violent raccoon. I would prefer to sneak around and not encounter any resistance at all to actually jumping into a fight.
But that smugness... that superior attitude... that moment of outrage all came together as I dove forward, taking up my cane and putting the haft up under the draconequus’s jaw.
“LET HER GO! NOW!” I demanded, a rage I didn’t even know existed boiling over.
He held me back easily, preventing me from toppling him over. And rather than gasping for breath, the self-proclaimed embodiment of chaos snickered.
“Well, now... The raccoon finally bares his teeth, hmm?” Discord smirked snidingly, clearly still feeling as if I couldn’t do anything to him. “Unfortunately, ontological inertia is in effect. Even if you had the power to strike me down, which you don’t, by the way, it wouldn’t be enough to save them.”
I snarled for a moment, feeling like a feral animal before the last word reached me through the haze in my eyes.
That word took the burning ember that was my fury and dunked it in a bucket of ice water.
“...Them?”
Discord’s grin widened as he brought up one claw and paw on either end of my cane, pushing me back with ease as if I offered no resistance at all before patting the length of ironwood.
“Aren't you curious how I got my hands on this?”
I lost my breath at the implication, gripping the cane all the tighter.
I had left it behind on Kaine Island. My best friend Bentley had found it... and like the Thievius Raccoonus, had kept it in order to keep it safe.
Bentley!
I looked up at Discord, whose smug smile indicated that he was well aware of what conclusion I had drawn... before flipping three more cards down along with the one depicting Carmelita.
A turtle in a wheelchair; he looked like he was waving his arms around and shouting at something.
An oblivious-looking hippo in a racing helmet with a trophy under one arm and a pen in hand, as if signing something.
And a mousey woman with a slight build, blond hair, and a red bandana, brandishing an arc-welder like a dagger.
Bentley... Murray... Penelope...
My glare turned back to Discord, whose grin had taken on a more menacing nature.
“A little added insurance. Although to be fair, the mouse was a bonus. She was quite... adamant in her defense of your cane. I didn’t think she should be left out after such a display of loyalty.”
“You son of a--”
“They are right there, unharmed, although they may be feeling a little ‘flat.’ Feel free to take them,” the draconequus continued, still grinning. “As I said, you still have the choice to decline. Although I haven’t gotten to the part of what’s in it for you.”
I twisted my hands around my cane’s handle, wanting nothing more than to bash in the head of the creature before me, but managing to keep that very strong desire under control as he continued speaking.
“One simple job. Six pieces of jewelry all kept in one place: Canterlot Palace,” he stated simply. “Do this, and I’ll release your friends, bring you all back to your own world, and as an added bonus... I’ll grant you one wish. Just name it. Anything you want.”
“Seriously!?” I said through grit teeth, the sarcasm and anger in my voice so thick it could be cut with a knife.
First flattery, then an emotional sales pitch, followed by kidnapping, extortion, and now bribery!? All of this for a bunch of necklaces and a tiara on an alien world in another dimension run by feral horses and goddesses!?
This was insane even by my standards!
“What is your answer, Sly Cooper?”
I gritted my teeth and looked down at the four cards that were set out on the table, letting out a strangled groan.
“...Fine!” I took one hand off my cane, using it to scoop up my friends and bring them in front of my face. “I’ll do it... For them.”
I barely had time to slip the four cards into my vest pocket before the draconequus grabbed my attention by throwing his mismatched hands into the air.
“Perfect!” Discord’s features were positively alight with excitement, as if he was able to get just what he wanted without having to stoop to such measures. “Let’s get started.”
Feeling a headache throbbing behind my eyes, and very much not wanting to look at this fresh villain's happy expression any more, I closed them, bringing my hand up to rub the corners.
“So, let me get this straight: You want me to go to this ‘Canterlot’ place, steal these ‘Elements of Harmony,’ and get them back here so you can incite some sort of mass revolution against some false goddesses. Does that sound about right?”
I looked up again.
And while I managed to keep my cane from dropping, my jaw wasn’t so lucky.
Gone was the blackjack table and the casino room in Mesa City. Gone were the crowds of people playing the slots and the other games of chance. Gone was any semblance of the modern world I knew as I realized I was surrounded by medieval style stonework and mortar walls, in a large circular room which had multiple bunk bed-like cots set out from the walls.
And standing all around me were more than a dozen stark white feral horses with large, colorful eyes. They all stood at around four feet tall, their heads coming up to around my chest and some were wearing what looked like golden armor.
All of them staring at me as we all stood for a moment in shock like a deer caught in headlights.
Then it struck me.
“Let’s get started.”
Apparently, Discord had meant to add: “right away.”
And apparently, he had also somehow transported me right smack into the middle of a guard barracks.
“Wait... Did I just say that out loud?” I asked somewhat sheepishly as the shock in these white stallions’ eyes quickly turned to outrage.
And that was how I ended up in Equestria.
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I'm have a feeling of which parts of Discord's speech are true, and which aren't, but…damn. Discords's gift of gab could easily send him high up in the Political world.
2138788
Discord for president
YES~! NEW CHAPTER! XD
...Holy crap, now that I think about it, Discord's right about Equestria. Well, it's a good thing he's free for good in canon then.
the most dangerous lies are those with a core of truth.
Or discord is the best bullshitter ever.
But i truely hope for a good celestia and luna.
discord is best villain, on earth or in equestria. good job capturing the essence of both sly and discord.
Man, was that chapter awesome! Discord is a master spin doctor, and both their personalities are wonderful.
Also: Doesn't Sly take something out when you activate the Binocucom? I'm pretty sure the mask is just a mask. (And the gun-shaped leg pack always confused me. If he isn't packing heat, why pack a holster?) I never played Sly 1 though, so I may be missing a detail or two about his gear.
Discord is such a dick and a idiot lol. MOAR MOAR MOAR MOAR!
2139010 Oh,how very right you are. After all, it's easier to distort a truth than come up with a fabrication that fits what Sly undoubtedly will see. And don't worry, it's canon Celestia, Luna, and Mane six as of the end of Season 2. As well as canon Equestria. But then again, Sly doesn't know that (FEAR THE POWER OF 'POLITICAL SPIN' ) since to him it's a whole new, unfamiliar world.
2139097 You may be right, hmmm, I may have to edit the story slightly with this info once I confirm, it's been a few weeks since I played and I may have just overlooked that. Thanks for bringing that slipup to my attention. Also, I always saw the 'thigh' pouch as carrying whatever goodies he needed at a given time.
2138984 Everything depends on perspective. The question is: is Discord telling sly what 'he' perceives to be true, or was he just trying to give sly some twisted world info.
Read first chapter. Went back to main story page to admire cover art. Saw new chapter was up. :D
In other news, I may have to look into Sly Cooper after this exelent fic.
I see what you did there
Great work keep it up
Ha! Just remembered this fic last night, and started playing Sly 2 again today xD
Wow I loled at slys misfortune.
Oh man... something tells me that the one wish thing Discord promised will come back to bite him in the lass alter on. Hope to see more of this amazing story soon, keep goin and stay golden^^
Very well-done Discord right there. This should be interesting.
Though I'm expecting before everything it said and done, Sly will get an unskewed perception of Equestria and find assistance to save his friends without Discord (either from Twilight, Celestia, or as part of a Tactical Rainbow Strike taking out Discord near the end). That said, I'm also expecting at least one instance of "oh crap I lost the cards gotta go find 'em!" and/or "oh crap what happens if a card gets damaged?!"
2138960 Him and Obama could compete for the smoothest liar award.
dis gon b gud
Very Intersting.
2139751
I think he was referring as to how Discord was flying
2139751
I think Sly was asking as to how Discord was floating.
Discord is in rare form tonight!
Discord is like North Korea, altering the truth for his own winning...
2139149 Actually, if you look closely to the animation he does when he activates the binocucom in Sly 3, you can see that he brings something up to his eyes.
2139625
Please, for everyone's sake, leave American politics out conversations that have nothing to do with the topic. Doesn't matter what side you're on, just please. Don't go there.
Awesome chapter. Carmelita, Bentley, Murray, and Penelope have all been turned into cards. Remind's me of the old Anime Yugioh. You know if a certain rumor I heard about thieves in time is true. Than it's kind of Ironic that Discord called Penelope loyal. Blabbing the entire plan in front of the royal guard. Not exactly Sly's best moment.
I'm looking forward to seeing how Sly's first meeting with the rest of the MLP characters will turn out. I'm also looking forward to seeing what the Mane six, Princesses, and other characters think of Sly's history and family history. Will any background or guest character's like Derpy, Dinky, Lyra, Trixie, Babs, Iron Will play a part in this story?
I must say, L2L, you have a fantastic grasp of Sly's character. Everything he's saying and doing I can 100% see happening in a Sly game (well, sans the ponies for copyright reasons.
)
You aren't secretly a writer for Sucker Punch, are you?
Nice touch with the Voltaire reference. Now, would you kindly write the next chapter so I know how Sly escapes?
2141103 Does Penelope betray the Cooper Gang?
2142063
That or maybe look up the games cutscenes.
Maybe maybe not. You'll have to play the game to find out.
This looks like it's going to be good. I wonder if the royal guard are going to think Sly is some sort of changeling spy?
2142103 I could see Dimitri or even Panda King turning against the Cooper Gang since neither of them were ever truly stated to have become good but Penelope seems like a shock considering she helped Bentely design the new Cooper Vault.
2142125
How does the old saying go again. It's alway's the one you least suspect.
2142171 I suppose it would be most ironic if Murray did it since for a time at the end of Sly 3 Bently started having second thoughts about being in the Cooper Gang and Murray managed to reassure him that Sly wouldn't forget about them.
2142226
Hmm point. But you have to admit it's kind of hard to picture Murray turning evil.
2140911 Okay, lol.
*shall ignore all comments relating to Thieves in Time both to avoid spoilers and because I like Penelope and don't want said rumors to be true.*
2142110 If they do, then they must assume he is the WORSE changeling spy in history. I mean come on, the point of being a spy is to NOT draw attention to yourself.
I'd say that Sly's blown that.
2142302 It's hard enough as it is to picture Penelope being evil. I guess her time as the Black Baron affected her in more ways than one.
2143361 Well considering how no one seemed to notice how OOC Cadnece was before she was revealed as the Changeling Queen anything's possible. By the way is Shining Armor going to have to get involved or do the royal guards think they can handle it and don't want to bother their captain on his honeymoon.
2140723 And yet he's not wrong if you think about it too much
Voltaire quote, DisQord, this is gonna be good. You know what,.to someone not in the know Discord's description of Equestria is kinda of accurate when Frigde Horror, and Deconstruction is applied.
I can not WAIT to see Sly try and talk his way out of this.
Never played the games, but now I think I'll go buy the new one.
Voltaire reference? You sneaky devil.
2146209 If you have a PS3, I highly recommend getting thee Sly Collection: It's all 3 of the PS2 Sly Cooper games on one disk remastered in HD
NO WAY! Another Sly crossover!?! This, is, great!
I'm currently reading this one
http://www.fimfiction.net/story/58475/my-little-pony-and-the-thievius-raccoonus
well actually, when you think about it while Discord wasn't tell the WHOLE truth he also wasnt lying either. tia DOES keep Equestria in near perfect stagnation. yes yes, there are a few here and there 'advancments', like medicine and dentristry and better agrocultral processes but other than that Equestria is pretty much a stagnat pool of water with who know what rotting in it
BENTLEY, NO! How could you do that to poor Bentley and Murry! They're the only reasons I play Sly Cooper.
Can't wait to see how this turns out and so far this is my fav for the sly cooper/ mlp crossovers
2138960
Damn, it's going to be a close run between him and Cthulu.
I think they're both running under the slogan 'Why Choose the Lesser Evil?'
2138960>>2139625
Now that's change you can believe in!
...
I'm terribly sorry for that.