Episode 1-1 :: Omelette
The newspaper – The Cloudsdale Gazette – spun through the air three times like a discus before landing squarely in the face of a certain lavender unicorn. She would have caught it with a burst of magic had she not been fast asleep and tucked in under her little plaid blanket.
"Snk– gah!" Twilight yelled, flailing about and knocking the offending rag from her head. It only took one sweep of her powerful wings for Rainbow Dash to make it to the paper before it hit the floor, landing instead in outstretched hooves.
Rainbow turned it upright, holding it in front of her friend’s face. Twilight blinked away the sleep and read the words that slowly came into focus.
CRIMEFIGHTERS OR LIME-LIGHTERS?
CLOUDSDALE VIGILANTE GROUP GETS A NAME; SHUTS DOWN CRIME GANG
by Gale A. Mezzo
"R– Rainbuh!" Twilight gurgled, choking on the morning. "Whut time izzit?"
"Five A.M.," Rainbow declared, excitedly. "I just got back from Cloudsdale to get the morning edition!"
"Wh… what for?" Twilight coughed her throat open, rubbing her face with a hoof. "And what are you doing here so early? And when do you read the news?"
"Look." Rainbow responded, prodding the page. "Look at this!"
Despite the warm glow of the morning sun sneaking through the bottom of the windows, Twilight still had to light the rest of the paper up with a little bit of magic, bathing the entire room in a gentle purple glow.
Just below the tag was a photograph, printed in full colour for once. It showed a warehouse or a factory or some sort of industrial building, where five figures draped in green swathes of cloth stood triumphantly.
Actually, one of them looked a bit embarrassed, really, but maybe they were just caught unawares.
"Who are these ponies, again?" Twilight asked cautiously, peeking over the top of the paper at the most excited face she'd ever seen Rainbow put on in recent memory.
"Wha– have you not been reading, Twilight? You? Not reading?" Dash responded, holding her hooves to her head in pure, unadulterated shock. "Have you not been keeping up with like, the most awesome story ever?"
"I… guess not," Twilight said guiltily, quickly running down the article to see what she had missed. "Although, the library doesn't really carry the Gazette, so…"
"Well, actually… this is the first time they've been in the papers. But that doesn’t matter! You won't believe what they've been doing up there in Cloudsdale!"
"Okay, let me… have a look…" Twilight murmured, grabbing the paper with a blast of magic and propping herself up in bed, reading the first line. "Wait, what kind of name is that?"
"Yeah, look, I know. They aren't like, you know. Special or anything. And I know, his name's pretty stupid, and he looks kinda geeky, but that's what's so cool about it, Twilight! He's just a regular stallion, you know? And one day he just… follows his dreams!"
"Follows… his… wha?" Twilight mouthed, rubbing the kinks out of the back of her neck and taking a good look at the article. "Alright, back up a little, Dash. Who's this guy?"
"Yeah, so, he's like, an accountant, right? Actually. Well, that's what I heard, anyway. You know!" Rainbow nodded enthusiastically.
"An… accountant," Twilight repeated, dryly, her eyes shooting up to stare into Dash's with a look of disdain. "Was it really necessary to wake me up at five in the morning for this?"
The soft snores of Spike coming from the upper landing told Twilight that at least one of them was going to get a proper night's rest.
"Well… I was gonna show you over lunch, but I got so excited, and–" Rainbow flustered.
"How did you even get in?"
"You… you sleep with the upstairs window open, Twilight."
"I…"
There was no argument Twilight could give.
"Fine," she ended up saying with a sigh. "So, this stallion's what… an accountant dream-follower?"
It was the best description she could muster at this time.
"All that, and more! I heard a lot of stories. I mean, they're all the buzz up there in Cloudsdale right now. This is the first time anyone's ever managed to catch the whole team on camera, Twilight. Isn't it awesome?"
"Not really," Twilight said, a hint of cranky impatience seeping into her tone. "How are they different from any other law-enforcement group? How are they different from the Wonderbolts, Dash? You've always wanted to be with them because they do these kinds of things, don't you?"
"It's… different," Rainbow said, suddenly dropping her tone. Suspiciously so.
"And we just had a huge adventure of our own, Dash. You remember the changelings? That was just… you know, two months ago. And you think this is awesome?"
"Well… yeah!"
"Really."
"Y- yeah. Really."
Twilight turned her sleep-deprived gaze to the picture once again. There was that main guy with the funny name. He wasn't standing tall, or brave, and in fact looked like he was trying to diminish himself. He looked… rather dull, really, but yet, all draped in green, there was something… well, she might have considered the word 'heroic' if he weren't just so plain-looking.
Beside him was a younger mare, a teen by the looks of it. Early adult at most. She was looking tired, but proud. Her fully braided mane and uppity demeanour suggested that she should not have been there at all, and was probably more comfortable at a café drinking tea. But she shone with a regal comeuppance that stole the scene.
There was another stallion, about the same age as the mare, with a blazing quiff that poured over his eyes. He stood up proud, confident, sticking his chest and head out for the cameras and looking very pleased at whatever it was he just accomplished. He might have even been flexing. He seemed rather excited to be there, and he appeared to be the only one smiling for the camera.
Then there was the gryphon – a strange sort, sitting hunched up on her hind-quarters with her claws gently cusped in front of her, as if she were waiting for it to all be over. She seemed to be bleeding from her head, as evidenced by a dark red stain on her feathers, but yet, she maintained this calm, eerie smile on her beak. She seemed reserved, but capable. Or maybe it was something else entirely. It was hard to tell, with gryphons.
Finally, there was that odd one in the back, the one with a nervous smile on her face. She was wearing a white lab coat of some sort, and was sporting a piece of thick eyewear. A secondary set of goggles also hung from her neck, because ponies needed two for some reason. Her mane was pulled back, very neatly, but it fell over in layers down the back of her neck. She reminded Twilight of herself during her younger days, when her parents had bought her her very own 'My Little Chemistry' play set.
"You like these guys?" Twilight asked again, no less weary from the attempt to analyze the photograph. There was no way. This was a rag-tag bunch of uncool. They should have brought a sign along with them saying 'we are rather uncool, sirs, thank you very much'. There was no way.
"Yeah, look, I do, okay? Don't ask. They're really cool, the stories are cool, and you know what? I appreciate a pony who know what he wants and does it! I appreciate this guy for trying. And what he's doing is helping everypony up in Cloudsdale. And besides, he gets into so many amazing adventures that–"
"Wait." Twilight held a hoof up, squirreling her mouth to the side. "That's why you like them, isn't it?"
"W– what?"
"Dorky guy; exciting adventures; fun and colourful team… he just reminds you of Daring Do!"
"He… wha–? No! I mean, not really," Dash claimed, stammering. "I mean… a little bit, maybe, but… aww, c'mon, Twilight! It's like… Daring Do's just a book. These guys are the real deal, you know? He's living it out! He's doing amazing things for justice and has all the honour and all the bravery and he's just some dorky accountant! You know what I'm talking about?"
Twilight shook her head slowly, patronizing eyes waving back and forth.
"Dash." Twilight sighed, putting the paper down. "Do you know what romance means?"
"Eew, yeah. I… yuck. Love and stuff."
"No. Not that meaning. There's an older meaning. One that a lot of ponies don't really know. It means 'the spirit of adventure', Dash. All those things in a good Daring Do book that you like? The heroes and quests and great amazing tales of chivalry and exciting plots and all that? That's what the older meaning of 'romance' is."
"What– what are you getting at, Twi?"
"Dash, you're… romancing the clouds. You're making Cloudsdale out to be something that it isn't. You're making this group out to be something it's not. Do you really think a dorky guy like this could have done all those amazing things you heard about? You said this is the first time they've been in the papers right?"
"Well… yeah," mumbled Dash.
"And… did you read this article?"
"Not yet. I mean, I was gonna, but I thought I should show you first, and–"
"You really should. They aren't anything like how you're describing them. I hate to burst your bubble but, look." Twilight tapped the paper. "Look at this bit. Even the stallion himself said that they were just at the right place at the right time. Nothing more. They aren't adventurers, Dash. They're just a bunch of ponies. And a gryphon, it seems. And they were just doing their civic duty.”
"I don't know, Twilight. There's a lot of stories, honestly. About him snatching ponies from out of the sky, about him fighting off hordes of ferocious skybeasts, and even one where he exploded and he was fine! And there was that story where he–"
"Dash… I'm really sorry, but until there's more than just stories, I don't really think…"
Rainbow sighed, looking down at her idol-of-the-month. Maybe Twilight was right. Maybe they were just a bunch of dorks and nothing more. They sure looked like dorks, not like the great heroes that the stories were about. Did they really do all those things she just mentioned?
"… I mean, there might be some truth to those tales, but... tales tend to get exaggerated, you know what I mean?" Twilight appended. Maybe she was being just a bit too harsh thanks to the rude awakening she had received.
"Yeah, I guess you're right. I guess you… oh. Oh! Wait!" There was a spark that lit inside Dash's eyes – the one that said that she was getting a 'great idea'.
"Rainbow."
"I'm gonna go find him!" Rainbow shot a hoof up. "Then I can ask him about it and... I don't know! But I can ask him if the stories are true or not!"
"Rainbow, really?" Twilight objected, tired of Dash's bullheadedness.
"Yeah, I mean… why not?"
"Listen, Rainbow," Twilight sighed, pushing the newspaper back into Rainbow's hooves. "Leave the romance where it belongs. In the clouds, alright? These are their stories. Not ours."
With a dismissive wave of a hoof, Twilight lowered herself back onto her pillow, shutting her eyes and beckoning her friend to let her have a few more minutes of rest. But even as she did so, Rainbow couldn't help but glance wishfully one last time at the article and the five faces staring back at her…
"Did you hear me?" Twilight mumbled.
"Wha?"
"I said, these are their stories. Not ours."
TWO MONTHS EARLIER
Eggbeater was a pony of odd qualities – the first of which was a name that nopony could be told without a quirk in their brow or a snigger behind tightly shut lips. His parents had not been the most generous of ponies when it came to naming conventions – they were quite traditional about their ways, and when they had him, decided to bless him after their favourite things in life.
And it was the simple things in life that they grew up with, and therefore, enjoyed. His father loved nothing more than a roaring, crackling fireplace where he could put up his old, rested, retired bones and gently warm himself for a few hours in those cold Cloudsdale nights, and his mother, bless her, used to love that old eggbeater, because nothing was nicer than a freshly made omelette in the morning.
And so, Eggbeater lived in his parent's old cottage in the western Cumulus hills of Cloudsdale, and remained there for most of his young adult life.
At an early age, Egg, as he became known to his friends, and later started introducing himself by, found out that he was nothing special. His Cutie Mark – which closely resembled his moniker – adorned his olive-green flank; a cooking implement dancing amongst a red hot flame.
And this was the other odd quality about him – there wasn't one.
For his Cutie Mark was the most accurate depiction of such a pony that you could possibly get. Like an eggbeater and a swaying flame, he was a mix of rather unremarkable things in a rather unremarkable way, and life chose to recognize his contribution to unremarkability by letting him be just who he was.
But he couldn't say that he wasn't unhappy. True, while life may have thus far been a simple walk in the park for him, it was just that. A simple walk in the park. It had been relatively easy, since he usually kept away from confrontation, and it was scenic, since he always took his time to appreciate whatever he was doing. But without the steep climbs and rough terrain, there really was nothing to push him further than where he had to be, and so life for him remained constant, repetitious, and unimaginative.
His form of escape was a plethora of books, which he indulged in heavily as a child. He also found it necessary to do well in school, and eventually found his calling in mathematics and linguistics, which allowed him to finally arrive at where he was currently in life.
He was an accountant.
He worked for one of the largest companies in Cloudsdale – Stackford and Sons, a huge corporate investment firm with dealings all the way from Canterlot to Las Pegasus. Their corporate motto – "Above All Else" – represented the company both in mentality and physical location.
But the huge, tall-ceilinged offices and clean, friendly working environment were just another few blades of grass in the park of Egg's life. And while he was comfortable with the great environment and great ponies, he only really cared about one thing on this day, the day that everything decided to happen.
Few other things took priority in his mind over the normal things he worried about – like the state of the environment, or Princess Celestia's current policies in regards to the export of national goods made with locally sourced materials. At this very moment, though, he was rather bothered by what had happened to his best friend and cubicle-mate.
For the most part, things in Canterlot were kept fairly safe. There was the royal guard, doing their thing, and certain other law-enforcement agencies working there. Other larger cities like Fillydelphia or Manehattan held their own against the tide of crime. Heck, even the far-off town of Appleloosa had a Sheriff, for crying out loud.
But Cloudsdale... had nothing.
Cloudsdale had... peace.
And usually that was a good thing. The Pegasi were the most law-abiding of ponies, and really, there wasn't any need for this sort of thing in the past. Laws were for Earth ponies, they used to joke. And jails were for Unicorns.
But with the rushing progress of modern civilization, it was hard not to see that things were just getting a little bit darker and a little bit more uneasy in good old Cloudsdale.
And all this, all this was brought up for a very specific reason, the reason which bothered Egg when he clocked in, just like every other day, and walked to his desk in silence, just like every other day, got his coffee and pencils, just like every other day, and said hello to his best and only friend, who, for the first time in history, wasn't there.
And as the words 'good morning' trailed off his lips and faded into the crowded buzz of office noise, Egg found himself unable to proceed.
"Hey," Egg asked, peeking over the top of his wall, the one that separated his personal square-shaped space from everyone else's square-shaped space. "Um… did Survey get in today?"
The shaking of an impatient head only served to reconfirm what he already knew. In three years, Survey had never taken a single day off or missed work for whatever reason. Today he had, and Egg wasn't sure he wanted to know the reasons why.
It was a full ten minutes of tapping his pen on the desk, rolling it around in his mouth while deep in thought and anxiety, before his boss and wage-driver, Mr. Cashius Stackford, peeked out of his office at his drones and sent Egg back into a furiously busy pace.
He wasn't too sure if the boss was looking at his neighbour's empty cubicle or at Egg's own lack of industry, but either way, suddenly looking busy was probably the best way to go.
He shuffled with the papers on his desk absent-mindedly, shifting them from one pile to the other, and it was only due to the looming shadow that fell across his desk did he jerk his head upward, his grey, wavy quaff of a mane bouncing over his face.
Egg pushed it out of his eyes as he swivelled around to meet his boss – and his quivering moustache – face to face.
"Egg," he intoned, nodding a greeting through a bushel of facial hair and incredibly focused eyes for a pony of his age.
"Sir," Egg replied, caressing the small stack of forms in between his hooves. They were getting rather crumpled.
Both Egg and Cashius looked up from the withering bundle.
"Good weather we're having," said Mr. Stackford, not looking out of any of the windows.
"Ah, yes. Of course, sir," Egg replied.
They both stood for a moment, recovering from the small talk.
"And your family, sir? How is your wife and daughter?" Egg attempted to reciprocate.
"Where's your friend?" the boss asked, cutting him short.
"Don't know, sir," the employee replied.
"Don't know?"
"Yes, sir. I'm sorry, sir. I… for once, I suppose…" Egg scratched his head. "I haven't a clue where he might be."
Cashius looked to the empty desk for just a moment, blinking, each powerful beat of his eyelids bringing forth a great churn of thought. That was how he was.
"Troubling," he finally said, speaking to the desk.
"Yes, sir," Egg responded.
The great and powerful CEO of the company nodded, and walked away, mumbling a 'let me know' as he retreated to his glass cage of an office.
Egg shook his head as he watched him go, looking down toward the wringed napkins that he turned the forms into.
But as his mind cleared, he took in his surroundings of marbled floors and fancily decorated walls, and mused about where his life had taken him – to the 7th floor.
The building, like most other buildings in Cloudsdale, was made out of, well, clouds. Support beams of heavier material such as wood and plaster were set into the edifice here and there where needed – they rested on extremely dense, compressed blocks of foundation cloud that were thick enough to hold Earth-borne materials up.
Glass was also a nice touch to the skyscraper, and although seven floors didn't seem like much, one had to consider the style of architecture that was found in the land of the clouds. Whereas things were built much smaller land-side, clouds were a building material that was found in vast supply, and as such, buildings up there tended to be far grander and far more spacious.
Each floor in the Stackford and Sons office building was the size and height of a grand hall. And clouds, being relatively weightless, didn't require much to hold them up; hence a mere bit of wood was the only thing necessary to do the job that steel and concrete might have to down groundside.
As the floors went up, they got progressively smaller, and like a pyramid, the floor that Egg found himself working on was the smallest of the lot at roughly the size of half a football field. But still, it held most of the heads of their respective departments, and each cubicle there was the size of a regular office. The only true office on that level took up the length of the entire far wall, and belonged to the pony who owned the company itself.
Egg had literally worked his way up the corporate level, being noticed initially for his organizational and leadership skills, something that he had denied ever having. But truth be told, there was a certain something about him that made others want to listen and follow along.
He couldn't put a hoof on it. He was quiet, not too outspoken, only said what he thought was necessary, but was always there to lend a hoof to anypony who required it, no matter what rank or file.
And that certainly could not have been enough for him to be promoted all the way to head accountant of a huge multinational firm.
But there he was. Amongst the elite of the elite of the company he sat, all within spitting distance from Mr. Stackford's glass walls, and when it came down to it, nothing else really mattered.
His eyes trailed his boss as he walked back into his room, and it was merely by chance that he managed to catch a little glimpse of a something in the reflection of the glass.
It was a pony that Egg had never seen before – something much considered a rarity all the way up here at the top. The visitor zoomed in, through the 7th floor bay entrance, and by the time Egg turned around to get a better look, he was already right there in front of him.
The pony, clad in thin blue scrubs, gave the room one final glance over before touching down in front of Egg, landing softly on the luxuriously fluffy cloud carpet.
Only the 7th floor had it.
"You're Eggbeater, right?" the Pegasus asked, flicking his head toward the confused recipient.
"Just… Just 'Egg'," he replied. "But, yes. I am. Who were you, again?"
"Cloudsdale General, Mister Egg," he pointed to his badge, which clearly displayed a large red cross dangling down from his shirt pocket.
Egg's eyes flicked to the plastic-wrapped card, running over it quickly, but carefully. In his mind were a million things, a million possibilities and a million explanations, but at the mere sight of the card did all but a scant few disappear from his mind, and did the remaining reasons fight for supremacy using assumption as a weapon.
And this was when Egg kicked in.
Suddenly, all thoughts were banished from his mind as it darkened and narrowed. All emotion fled, though not through any will of his own, and within the span of a breath did he find himself able to think rationally and clearly at the cost of being remotely empathic.
"Indeed," Egg said, mouthing the words as he said them. "Is Survey alright? What happened to him?"
"Ah, so… you already know." The hospital runner nodded, his voice softening.
"Not really." Egg shook his head. "Not very many reasons why you'd be here asking specifically for me on the day he doesn't turn up for work, right?"
The pony from the hospital nodded, slowly, insightfully. Normally, ponies had the habit of avoiding the subject for as long as possible, especially when he introduced himself as such. But this guy, this guy jumped right in as soon as he could.
"No, Mister Egg, there aren't. Mister Survey described you at length. He told me… very specifically; you'd be the only one in the whole floor standing there outside of his cubicle, not doing anything. Just looking around."
"Sounds like him," Egg replied, expressionless.
"And he also told me– oh!"
"Sir, Survey's in the hospital, I'll give you the full brief when I find out more information from Mister Red Letter here," Egg said, over his shoulder.
Mr. Stackford, who had, without a doubt, noticed the new arrival and had once again snuck out of his office, regarded Egg's tone with a sense of deep thought before clearing his throat like a rumbling thundercloud.
"I'll vouch for him, sir. He's from the hospital." Egg threw out words before his boss could.
Cashius Stackford raised his hoof and kept his mouth open, waving his leg back and forth a few times, before returning it to the floor. He shrugged, made a little 'harumph' of acknowledgement, his moustache tilting, before retreating to his hole.
Egg returned to the pony from the hospital. "You were saying? He told you…?"
"Well," Red Letter muttered, "it was about that, really. He said that I wasn't supposed to really just fly in like this, but he said go ahead, because once I'd found you, you'd be able to vouch for me."
"Did he say anything else?"
"Only…. only that you'd probably vouch for me before I had a chance to tell you to… vouch… um… what exactly is your relationship with Mister Survey?"
"Colleagues," Egg intoned, looking at the empty desk across from his, every single pen lined up and every single piece of paper stacked perfectly straight. It was just how Survey liked it. Neat. Orderly. So that he could see where everything was and where everything was going. Just like how he could see things happening in life.
It was probably why Survey was hired to be the chief marketing executive of the firm.
"I see," Red Letter said, cautiously. Trying not to let the tone of his voice betray anything else but a casual response.
Egg picked up on it instantly.
But it wasn't anything he did about, or cared to do about. He knew the jokes, he knew all the mutterings, and he knew that there wasn't any truth to that at all, and that was enough for him. He and Survey were both colleagues and best friends and that was all.
Egg also knew that the way he responded to things didn't really help the situation much; with his naturally unobtrusive voice, and his lack of expression, many ponies could only see the two reactions he ever gave to anything – a look of confusion or a look of tiredness.
Not that he actually was tired or confused, mind you. It's just that those were the only two looks he had in his entire repertoire. He didn't even have a proper smile.
Right now he chose to look tired.
Red Letter entirely misunderstood the situation.
Not that it mattered.
"What happened to Survey?" Egg asked, breaking the silence.
"He got into an altercation with a bunch of thugs, I'm afraid."
"He got into a fight?"
"Well… not exactly, Mister Egg. It wasn't really a fight because… well, let's just say he was attacked, Mister Egg. Quite badly. They wanted his bitbag. He wouldn't give it, and they decided to… escalate."
"How bad are the injuries?"
"Ah… broken primary coverts, a few scrapes from where they pushed him around. It was over by the park, so… dense cloud there. Construction-grade pavement. A lot of bruises, but the worst is the fractured wing, Mister Egg. Nothing that won't heal in a few days, but he'll have to keep off the sky for a week at least."
At this point, Egg decided to switch to his only other look – confusion.
"Mister Egg?" the messenger said. "I'm really sorry. If you want to visit, he's in room 379 at Cloudsdale General–"
"I'll go now," Egg stated, looking hazily at the entrance to the floor.
"Ah… well, if you wish, but I have to get going myself. I need to pass on a few more messages to others, so…"
"Yes," Egg's eyes snapped back to Red Letter's. "Thank you for informing me about the situation. I won't keep you. I'm afraid you must excuse me for not escorting you to the exit, but there are some things I have to do."
"Of course, Mister Egg. All the best, alright? I'm honestly sorry. But… well, he's a lucky guy, to have someone… as close as you to care for him. I'm sure he'll be fine."
"Thank you," Egg repeated again, making sure that he had pushed off and started for the exit before he turned back to the office.
Sure, he cared. Survey was a friend. Survey was a colleague. Did there really need to be anything more for him to give two bits that someone he knew was robbed in cold daylight?
The world was silly.
It took sixteen wing-aided strides for Egg to make it to Mr. Stackford's office. It took a little bit more time to get his huge door open, in fact, but he finally made it to where he could tell his boss what was going on.
"Survey?" Mr. Stackford asked, not one to mince words.
"Mugged. I'm going to visit him."
"Was it serious?"
"No. I'm visiting him anyway."
"And your work?"
"I'll clear it, sir. I will when I get back. But I need to go. I'm sure you understand."
The moustache tilted its head down, allowing itself to get a few moments of thought in.
"Two hours," Stackford said, nodding.
"Two hours," Egg reconfirmed.
"Hey," the voice said. "I saw that."
"Saw what?" came the snide reply. The pony standing behind the box was already shuffling his day's earnings into a small sack, hastening to leave as soon as possible.
The two of them stood in a small alley squeezed between two shops. A good number of ponies could be seen walking by just outside, but for the most part this exchange was rather private, and no other pony in their right minds would think to make it otherwise.
"Don't matter. Don't gotta see nothin'. Still know you're a cheat," the young adult declared, his grey eyes glaring at the peddler, who stopped for just a second before continuing to fill his bag.
"And your proof, kid?"
"Uh… it's Three-Card Monte? You're cheatin' by default." The brazen youth slammed a blazing blue hoof onto the table, upsetting the cards.
None of them was the ace.
"Whatever, kid, get outta here, alright? Before things get a bit uncomfortable?"
"Bit late for that, friend!"
"Yeah?" The drifter fastened the bag to a belt he wore slung around his lower back, annoyance creeping into his voice, as if he was dealing with a pest and nothing more. "And just exactly wha'cha gonna do 'bout it? Who are you supposed to be, kid? A Wonderbolt?"
Emberkite held his breath, to steel against the sudden wave of anger that washed over him.
His name betrayed the colour of his crisp, red fringe, that stuck out and hung over his face like a knife, and only a yellow bolt that shot through his mane betrayed his lightning fast ability to streak through the fiery skies.
He certainly looked the part.
"Yeah, I'm a Wonderbolt," he replied, frowning at the enemy. "You gonna give the money back now?"
"Kid, listen." The other pony sighed. His worn look and tired eyes spoke worlds of the kind of life he lived, and there was enough dirt piled on top of his coat that it was hard to tell if it was naturally brown or made that way by the elements. "I don't wanna fight with another rat, alright? I get it. This is your turf. I'll move on. Just leave me alone. We all gotta eat somehow, don't we?"
Eat. Bathe once in a while. Sleep. Get some rest. Work out. Keep healthy. Think about things twice a day. Reflect on life once a day. Care for others. Look out for the weak. Be nice to your neighbours. Respect yourself.
There was a lot more to life than just eating, even for a street performer, and most of those things came with the benefit of a healthier personal outset.
Sure, all you were, really, was an an over-glorified beggar, but at least you worked for your handouts and even that had a bit of pride tacked on.
This pony in front of Emberkite had stopped at 'eat'.
Ember sneered.
"This ain't about turf, man. This is about what's right, and what's wrong!"
"Like you're so clean!" the drifter burst out with an incredulous tone.
Ember shot his face up toward the drifter's, stopping short just before their noses touched. The act was enough for the dealer to jerk his head back in response, but even with that little bit of distance, Ember had halted a mere centimeter away from the other guy's face.
"I ain't a thief," Ember told him, "and I don't appreciate those who are."
Like a blade slicing through the air, a bolt of crimson with the golden streak shot forward, and once more did the drifter's face retreat instinctively.
But this time, the streak didn't stop.
Ember's forehead connected with the drifter's face, smashing into it with the full force of his body. From the drifter's head a soft, red mist bloomed, a collage of liquids spraying into the air and sprinkling down on Ember's coat. A sharp, clear crack rang through both their skulls as something, somewhere, snapped in two.
Black and white swirled into each other as the world turned upside down, inside-out and around in a circle all at the same time as the drifter swirled to the ground, landing in a heap at Ember's hooves.
The dust cleared. The ghosts faded, and his vision refocused just enough that the drifter could see somewhat clearly again.
It hurt to keep his eyes open. The stinging, sharp pain in his muzzle and the warmth that trickled down his face made it hard for him to pick himself off the floor. Through a face-full of pavement, all he could see was a figure walking beside him to pluck the bag of bits neatly from his belt.
Hooves dancing around him. That's all he recognized – a dizzying tattoo of limbs floating along as the world tried to right itself.
And he tried to reach out, to stop that thief of thieves, but his legs would not respond. And so then did futility win over, as he lay there blinking in shock and slight fear, his eyes focusing and un-focusing on the cutie mark of the one who had destroyed his senses with one swift blow.
A cloud, or perhaps it was… no, it was definitely a cloud, twinned lightning bolts resting immediately under. It looked menacing, as if it were a skull laughing at him, returning his stare and judging his actions.
And that was the last thought that the drifter could manage, as blackness crept along the edges of his eyes, and his brain started to succumb to a great weight that had been growing steadily since the collision. There was a condemning mark placed upon him, burnt into his mind, as the concussion finally caught up and sent him into a deep slumber.
Emberkite stepped away with a frown on his face as he threw the bag up into the air and caught it neatly in an unfurled wing. The owner of the money couldn't have gone far. He'd track him down and return it, and that would be the end of all this.
The hero looked down upon the broken stallion, whose breathing had started to become shallow and ragged, but he looked ever so peaceful in his bleeding slumber, and only then did the brazen young vigilante hold a hoof up to his forehead to rub at the spot where they had connected.
There was going to be a bruise in the morning. He could feel it.
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Another one for the read later list. Good thing it's a lot shorter than it used to be.
I'll be back for this later...
VERY much looking forward to this, you've got a great one on your hands
That is the single longest chapter I've ever seen. It intimidating.
But still, this should go to the feature box. I only got a little of the way in, but it's incredible.
22,000 words? That's like half my total published word count. Thank Eris I'm mildly insomniac, or I'll never get a chance to read it.
It begins.
Featured Box, here it comes!
Congratulations, KitsuneRisu
This is rather cool, sir, thank you very much.
Uh, the title wouldn't happen to be referencing Romancing the Stone, would it? I'm sure it's not.
I think I found the type of story I was looking, definately reading later when I can.
Quite engrossing so far. I'm finding that I quite like Mocha, and Egg is a rather interesting protagonist... sort of reminds me of Batman, if Batman was less like Batman and more like a very dry, unremarkable accountant. Or perhaps the Clock King.
Ah! I recognize what thou hast accomplished there.
2163913 Haha, dude, if you could see the chapter lengths in Background Pony you might die of fright... or god help you Project Horizons
So many words
I don't read tons of OC stuff but I do like speculative world building/expanding, like what you are doing here with Cloudsdale.
Looking forward to more.
The beginning of the story has a bit of eccentric descriptive language I find a bit off putting, but nothing too bad.
Rag as a slang term for newspaper or magazine seems weird coming from an omniscient narrator.
Kind of trying to hard to describe a pose here. Juts "In her hooves" lets the reader picture it.
She's not hovering the paper. She's hovering with the paper.
You don't really blink sleep out of your eyes, you rub it out. You blink bleariness out though...
I don't even.
At 5am obviously.
This would be better as -"Look," Rainbow responded, prodding the page. "Look at this!"-
After that point it seems much smoother. Just a bunch of odd artifacts in the Twi and Dash intro. Which is structured brilliantly by the way.
2163857
Please do. I have cookies!
2163877
Yeah well you edited it =3 It's as good as what we made it together.
2163913
Hey, wow, thanks! I hope it does. Unlikely, but, one can dream. Heh hehh eheh. Glad you're liking it so far! And yes, I don't skimp on the words.
2163955
Weren't you going to sleep? >_>;
2164027
Thanks! I wish. I can only wish. Nowhere near it. But. Let's keep trying.
2164038
Except for sacrifice this rabbit to the heathen gods of writing stuff.
Thank YOU very much. I didn't do anything.
2164225
Eheheh heheh. HEheh.. MAYBE. Good eye. I genuinely did not think anyone was going to spot that. But that is where the similarities end, I'm afraid. Fic's entirely different.
2164422
Thank you! Please come back anytime, stranger. *rubs hands together* heh heh heh.....
2164644
Sir! The Clock king is anything BUT unremarkable! Why! He.... he has a giant clock for a head! And... and... has a giant clock for a head. Also, good spot... >_> The song that inspired my first adventure fic and also the name of the lead OC. I just dropped it in for the heck of it. Good song though, eh? I love TMBG.
2165543
Yeah, those were... done mainly not either on purpose or against but that's honestly just the kind of things I write. I kind of write weirdly, I guess. Two of my biggest influences are Terry Pratchett and Dave Barry, both of whom use rather particular metaphors and analogies in their writing. It's very colourful and sometimes weird in the execution, but that's what I've sort of picked up myself as a habit. Most of the examples you pointed out aren't meant to be very straightforward. I'll agree with you about the 'cupped legs' thing, though. It'd be clearer if it were just 'hooves'. And the 'hovering' thing, which I
am going to change right after thishave just fixed. And the last one with the prodding also. But for example the one about blinking sleep out? In the way I used it, sleep is being used as an analogy for what it represents - blurriness, tiredness, the dizziness, the little bits of eye crap. And who the heck reads the paper at 5 am? I DENY people reading the paper at such an ungodly hour.But thanks for the comment about the structure. You can thank Crack for the inspiration for it. =3
2165543
Oh yeah, I'd add.. one thing I do as part of my voice is that my god narration tends to swing left and right depending on whose scene it's focused on. I do this a lot. The god narration voice actually does change and sometimes overlaps with the characters. It might be a bit weird at first but a lot of people I know who've gotten used to it tell me it's a pretty distinct part of my writing style and that it's actually quite nice as a device, sometimes.
Might not be for everyone, I think. But still. I won't do it too often. =)
2165599
Understandable. I've only really read in depth the Diaries fics and that was first-sorta-2nd-person.
2165591
Going to bed and going to sleep are two different things. Especially when you keep an iPad under your pillow.
Which probably explains my insomnia.
You... finished.
Will read (yet another empty lie by me!)
If I finish my fic (^^^)
If I first upload a new chapter for my other fic (^^^)
This is bloody brilliant.
I can't even express how awesome this story is, and just how much more awesome it can become. So much awesome...
2171546
So.. you LIKE it then.
Brilliant Cut... incoming. =)
I'd like to do a review of this on my user page. May I?
2171746
Depends on how much you're going to rip into it =)
Nah, I kid. Go right ahead. All feedback is highly appreciated.
And thank you for the time you'd spend doing it! I'm anticipating reading it. =)
inb4 Mocha best pony.
Man, Twi, you're such a killjoy. Let Dash have her fun!
Oooo, I like the title presentation.
Sounds like a pretty important position for our protagonist. Hmn, suspicious mugging is suspicious. Could just be the triggering event though, I suppose.
Looks like we already have some vigilante action going on.
There's something to be said for the right advice at the right time. Okay, even without the details this is a terrible plan and it's simply going to end in tears. And possibly body bags.
Love the diner story.
Preach it, sister.
Okay, so he has put a lot of thought into this. I'm still with Mocha on it, though.
Great Cloudsdale imagery. Now that's quite the fixer upper
Okay, so he's really clever. Still a bad idea! Love the ending at the diner.
Great start to this Kitsu.
I read this today, and I am enthusiastically impressed. This is basically the MLP version of Kickass.
2171835
No prob.
People like to make little things into nothing, I noticed. Especially between close friends. i've actually had situations like this in the past, where people would ask: "Wow! You sure care about him! So why haven't you two started dating?" And it's an easy question...Because you don't feel like it. That's not how it is. There are other kinds of relationships besides romantic, and sometimes people forget that.
Heck, you don't even have to KNOW someone to feel bad for them. I know i have cried over people I didn't know dying or getting hurt. I think it's natural to care and feel for others.
Okay, but now i'm getting off track. I am really loving all the personalities so far. From the secondary characters like his boss, to Egg himself. And I'm REALLY digging Eggbeater. His interactions amuse me, and I can't help but smile at imagining his expressions. All two of them. He certainly is the everyman's pony, isn't he. I can tell he is going to be a character I enjoy reading about. Though I can't wait to find out about the rest of the gang, and what happens to band them all together.
I also wanted to say that I love how you started out the story. Of course Rainbow Dash would have found out about them, and it was a great way to set up the story. It also shows familar characters, and helps to remind us that it's set in the same world as MLP. (I find that many people who do focus on thier original characters in fandoms somehow distorts the world they are trying to be a part of. But so far this reads as something that I can easily see happening in the background of the main cast. there are always adventures going on, even if we don't see or know about them.)
I'm really glad you DID recommend this one to me. i can tell it's going to be a fun ride~
That's a pretty interesting start. Eggbeater looks to be quite the character.
Unfortunately, though, it is late. I'll have to finish the rest later.
Alons-y! (Time marker, will post real comment after I finish the chapter.)
STOP!
Quibble time.
Blast is more violent of a word than I think is appropriate here, pulse or wave would, I think, be better. Blast makes me thing Twi ripped it out of Dash's hooves, which is firstly, more active than she would be after being woken up at five in the morning, and secondly, more rude than I think Twi would be under the circumstances.
Ow. Why isn't that all one sentence? It hurts me to look at it.
I'm not the comma expert, but I'm pretty sure there should be a serial comma between accountant and dream-follower.
Nice title drop. Somehow you managed to make it not sound forced or contrived. Well played sir.
O my Celestia, you named a pony Eggbeater. I am immensely amused.
This was exactly my reaction to his name.
This is odd, suggests: ...the first of which was a name that nopony could hear without...
his name that, is just... weird.
Hmmm, Eggbeater's cutiemark looks kind of like a torch. I can't help but think there is a symbolistic duality in that.
NEXT CHAPTER!
2734263
Alright, for my own sanity, I'll only be addressing things that Anti brought up that are in need of refutation or correction.
—————
There should not be. Serial commas go between adjectives preceding nouns (at least in this case he's trying to make) and there's only one here, as "dream-follower" is a noun. You wouldn't go with "accountant, man".
—————
Good chapter, interesting characters, and a headbutt. This is shaping up rather well!
I learned a new word today! And a new hairstyle!
It's kind of an ugly hairstyle. I don't know what anybody sees in it.
Twilight, stop putting words in the author's mouth. I don't care if he told you to do it, it still comes across as kind of rude.
When I look at his cutie mark, I see an eggbeater on fire. And I think such a thing would be remarkable.
2734263
Because that's how Dash pronounced it.
I'm sorry, I seem to be tired in such a way that I have little to say. I suppose then it is only fair that I postpone further reading until tomorrow; since you recommended I read this story, I expect you would like to know what I think of it.
Come on.... cloudsdale CMC! *rolls dice*
... *looks*
Damnit!
I swear to the Glob if this is just a really long setup for Haley I'm gunna be pissed. Also if this isn't same-universe at that I will be also pissed.
*Titledrop ragequit.*
To be honest I don't think Twi would've adopted this much cynicism in the few months following the first Changeling attack. I guess Twi's just a jerk in this canon. I'm maybe okay with this. I could see how she's tired, but this is like dreamcrushing-level jerkitude.
Good touch as a corporate slogan
omg I can't.
Wow this is almost gross.
I flinched at this but then I remembered Rarity's dad.
okay so cool
Risu stop being Egg.
I've seen how well-dressed you are for work stuff this can't be a coincidence. I'm now assuming everything that happens before crimefighting starts has happened to you yourself. Maybe even parts of the crimefighting also. *headcanons*
Egg needs to be wrong. I am waiting for Egg to be wrong now. I waited for Captain Levi to be wrong and he was. Captain Levi was wrong. Egg shall be wrong too. It simply must happen now
I almost wish you'd said this from the getgo, but this honestly provides a strong strut for characterization and to start liking Egg. This is the bit I was waiting for, in this story. Screw Twilight Sparkle and Rainbow. Seriously. Till the ends of the earth.
Gay.
is it winter or autum?
Sorry but the editor in me can't let this one slide;
It's "at the cost", "with the benefit".
Cutiemarks as interludes are good, esp. cuz they've gotta be your designs.
COMMENTING SO THAT THERE IS RECORD OF ME READING THIS AND RISSIE KNOWS WHERE I'M UP TO (THIS IS TOTALLY GONNA BE A REGULAR THING FOR EVERY CHAPTER):
Heh. Cute. I liked this intro.
Other than that, not much else to say. Decent introduction for Egg, and as always I like your style of prose a lot. The final scene does seem a bit weird and unrelated, but I gather that this chapter used to be much longer and was split up into smaller parts, so it'll probably make sense once I read part two of episode one.
I'll keep up writing these comments as I proceed through the fic.
Funny AND pretty.
Funny AND pretty.
Oh dear. Oh dear me! You poor thing, how could your author inflict such bad grammar on what promises to be such a lovely story?
To KitsuneRisu: Just roll with it, I'm flirting with this fine story here. What you need to do is either remove "normally" or change "had she not been" to "but she was." See, you don't include both the normally and the had-she-not.
I'm probably wrong, but I think you meant to say "And since when do you read the news." Sorry for the nitpicking.
Sheriff.
3952670
Hey! No problem about the nitpicks. I've made the changes as necessary. Thank you very much for pointing them out. However, I usually let things slide for dialogue in your second point, as it's actually just something they say. So the lack of 'since' was deliberate. The others, I changed, though!
Thanks!
Daaaaang. That end. What a fine rear, too.
Excellent start!
It's not too common that I log in specifically to comment on a story, but this was definitely warranted. Certainly there were smatterings of questionable grammar, but they are surrounded by brilliant moments and, most importantly, a sense of timing. The reason I joined this site was because I was fortunate enough to stumble on Ghostofheraclitus's "Whom the Princesses Would Destroy" from the get-go. Since then there has been the occasional piece that matched it, but for every gem there is so much coal. This story is a gem, make no mistake, and I sincerely hope you complete it, if only to give me another reason to continue on this site. If there was one recommendation I could make, it would be to pick up a good editor, not to remove the wonderful quasi-metaphors, but rather to help with the more mechanical aspects of their construction. Good luck, and keep writing, if only because it's a shame to see an Unfinished Requiem. I'll certainly be reading, and so will others, if I've anything to say about it.
4375289
Well, thank you very much for doing so, and thank you for the feedback. Yes, I do know that I tend to phrase things wrongly, but I do have a sort-of editor now, and I'll certainly be paying more attention to the more fiddly constructions in the future. So thank you very much for your support, and thank you for reading!
And here I thought this was just gonna be a rousing, comic book style superhero yarn. I knew there would be more to it than that, having been penned by you, but my expectations were more along the lines of Charles Atlas superpowers, like Mare Do Well. A genuinely weak group of schmucks in homemade costumes is way cooler, though. Now I'm getting this kind of vibe:
fc07.deviantart.net/fs71/i/2014/051/7/c/commission___kickass_by_bakki-d77919s.jpg
fc00.deviantart.net/fs71/f/2013/340/d/f/commission__spike_as_kick_ass_by_bonesatellite-d6wxdku.jpg
fc04.deviantart.net/fs71/i/2013/315/3/1/for_swashbucklist_by_xiao668-d6tmw0b.png
th04.deviantart.net/fs70/PRE/i/2014/191/0/1/spike_is_kick_flank___commission__by_evil_dec0y-d7q1fp1.png
More the first Kick-Ass than the sequel. For this cast of yours, I foresee some gritty challenges handled with varying degrees of incompetence and clumsiness, and possibly one or two exceptionally violent losses.
I'm looking forward to seeing how this experience (whether or not it's as dark as I'm anticipating) will affect the protagonist. He's an unusual guy. I have slightly more than two expressions, but there are a lot of things about this character that I can identify with. This has me more than a little invested. Not as much as I would've been if this story mirrored the pictures above, but still somewhat invested.
No doubt his super alias will be Beater, or some variation.