In retrospect, combining large quantities of gasoline, and...what was it that that idiot had used? Styrofoam cups? That had been a great idea, actually...
Oh, that was it. The bad idea had been...well, something involving the drums that the gas had come in. And an industrial fan. The whole 'plan' had always been a little...fuzzy...when it came to details.
Fire, he had decided, was something best enjoyed 'in excess'...in moderation.
“Heheh...ho-wow that, heheh...that smarts.”
He sat up with a bit of effort, shaking his head wildly in an attempt to clear it. Of course, all that ended up doing was scramble his brains even more. And that wouldn't do at all...
“I suppose I was a bit slow on the draw that time.”
He jumped at the sound of another voice, and tried to scramble to his feet. Managed only to weave head-first into a hard surface and slump to the ground again.
“A consequence of splitting one's attention.” The strange voice heaved a put-upon sigh. “You would think I'd learn, wouldn't you?”
He descended into giggling fit, head spinning from what felt suspiciously like a concussion. “Who...heheh...where's the fun in that?”
“Mmm, you may have a point, my unpredictable little friend.” A hum from the darkness. “It's a little late, of course, but that's neither here nor there.”
“And just where is here, mmister mmysterious mmmmmm...” He trailed off, frowned, and attempted to sit up straight again. “You know...'m' words aren't the, ah...aren't the easiest to work with.”
“No, I suppose they aren't. Though personally I must profess my utter dislike for 'e' words.” There was a pause, where the voice faded and he started feeling out his immediate surroundings. “Would you mind indulging my curiosity, for a brief moment?”
A hard surface just there...it curved away, slightly, as he trailed his hands up. “I'm a little too fond of cats to feel...entirely comfortable with that.” A pause, for consideration, and he snorted. “But then again, I...uh...well, I'm not exactly going anywhere.”
“Oh, that's where you're wrong.” The voice carried a chuckle, that time. “I hear tell...that you're a big supporter of chaos.”
His eyes widened, slightly, in the darkness, and a grin split his expression. “Well, I'm not the sort to...brag...but I do have a particular pre-dis-position for, eh...well, chaos, in general.”
“Which is exactly why I have a...well, let's call it a 'job opportunity', shall we?” The voice was practically a purr, then. “I need an agent...an artist.”
Something moved, very nearby, and he turned to look toward it, squinting in an attempt to see through the inky blackness that surrounded him.
“And it is an art.” The voice had shifted as well, and he was finally certain where the speaker was. “What you do. Quite a beautiful dissonance, exemplary even by human standards...”
And if that wasn't a very strange choice of words...
“I'm afraid I don't work on commission.” He cleared his throat, cracked his neck, and stood himself up, finally. Still a bit unsteady, but not terrible. “Buuut...if you'd like to leave a suggestion, we'll be sure to ge-het back...eheh...back to you...” Another bout of manic laughter caught him off guard, and he leaned against the rough, standing surface...
A surface that shifted beneath his hand.
“I'd like to tell you a little story.”
“Oh, is it story time already!?” He laughed off the sudden movement, recovering his balance with a bit of wild flailing. “I do love a good ssstory.”
“Well good.” The voice rose up, the ground shifting beneath him without warning and nearly tripping him up again. “Because this one has quite the lesson to be learned.”
Mind games? Oh, but the voice was going to be disappointed. He choked down the mad laughter that threatened to bubble up yet again, adjusting his jacket with a jerky sort of shrug. “Do tell.”
“Mmm.” The voice moved again, closer. “There was a man, who cast a bright light over his city. Who burned away the petty criminals, and brought corruption to light.”
Something very large brushed against his shoulder, and he stiffened. Stilled. Whatever it was moved away quickly, but now he could hear it, the slightest raspy-rustle of...whatever it was.
“But that man made enemies. And eventually, made a mistake...in the particular form of a home-made firebomb and an electrical short.”
“Mm, I remember this part.” He ran a hand through his hair, combing it back thoughtfully. “Can we skip to the, ah...the punchline?”
“Hmph...” The ground moved again, and this time he did stumble. “This man was burning all away. A truly...senseless end.” The voice circled him as it spoke, heaving another tired sigh near the end. “Fortunately, a passing...well, let's say 'fan'...was in a position to help.”
A gust of hot, musty air blew his hair back into his face. And he frowned, silent.
“And help he did! And in return, he asked just one little favor from the man. A pittance, really.”
“Y'know, this is aaall starting to sound like a bad joke...”
“Oh, come now! I haven't even gotten to the best part!” The voice gave a low, dangerous chuckle. “You see, all the fan wanted was for the man to continue his wonderful work! To spread his shining light on a new stage. No strings attached, debts squared away...it was such a generous offer, that the man accepted immediately. Without argument.”
When the ground shifted beneath him again, he was ready. What he was not ready for was the moving walls that closed in around him as well. Or the laughing...breath that sent him into a coughing fit.
“Now, I could drop you back in the middle of that particular little mess. And it would be a waste, a terrible waste of your talents. Your potential.” The voice was right above him, at that point, and he craned his neck to try and catch sight of anything.
A pinprick of light...no, two of them...glimmered in the darkness.
“On the other hand...I could save your life. And all I ask in return...is that you do exactly what you've been doing all...this...time.”
“Uhh...what's option 'c'?”
The lights sparked, something clicked, and he suddenly had a very unnerving impression of teeth. “I get an after-dinner snack before I go to sleep again.”
He couldn't help the laughter that followed. Went ahead and indulged it, this time around, laughing until his sides hurt and his head swam.
“And I'll take that...as a yes.”
The world went white.
Dust Mote yelped, as something very large crashed through the branches of his favorite tree to land in front of him. Twigs and leaves rained down, numerous animals that had been resting nearby scattering in surprise.
The pegasus just stared, shock freezing his wings for that long moment.
When the moment was over, he slumped, his previous good mood going up in smoke. The tree was ruined, the thready streams of light that normally filtered through its branches replaced by a steady blaze...he huffed, shook the debris from his gray coat.
“Ow.”
He jumped, wings flaring in surprise as his attention turned to the thing that had fallen. The thing that was alive.
“Um...hello?” He took to his hooves, feathers ruffling as his wings folded back down. “Are...are you okay?”
“Welll...I was just, heheh...blown up.” A soft chuckle was cut off by a weak cough, and Dust Mote watched as the strange creature rose from the ground, its body folding on itself in a manner that left him feeling distinctly uncomfortable. “And then kidnapped by some...giant...thing. Which I'll, ah...I must say, I wasn't expecting.”
The pegasus blinked, twice, his ears laying back. “Is that a 'no'?”
“Ha!” The thing barked out a laugh, turning to face him. “I'd th-”
Silence fell again, and Dust Mote shifted uncertainly from side to side. Something was screaming at him to fly away, the strange creature's appearance not helping in the least. But...he never let weird things throw him off before. Helping other ponies was easy, and why should a strange...thing...be any different?
“Um...do you need help?” He edged forward a bit, shrinking back when the thing leaned forward. “I could go and get a doctor. There's a clinic not far from here...”
“I'm, uh...” The thing started to speak again, beady eyes narrowing. “I don't think that'll be...necessary.”
Dust Mote scuffed a hoof as the creature moved again, absently noting the fact that the strange, mottled coat was actually clothing of some sort, the odd, pinkish color of bare skin that showed in the few places it didn't cover...
“You seem distracted.”
His eyes snapped back to the thing's face, the fevered eyes set in dark circles. And his feeling of unease became outright fear.
“It's the scars, isn't it?”
He backed up as the thing crawled forward, wings locking up as he hit the trunk of the tree.
Blued Steel wasn't a veteran Guard by any means. An earth pony with moderate ambitions, he had managed to rise to the rank of Lieutenant without much difficulty. And, after a short time, he found himself more than content there. He could still get out an about once and awhile, and while paperwork was an ever-present annoyance, he could at least content himself with the knowledge that the Captain had it worse.
He liked to be in charge, even if he wasn't the big boss. It was were he was comfortable. Organizing patrol routes, making sure the Guard squads he headed got a fair rotation on watch. Quiet work, given the relative peace of the Baltimare area. But it was important, and he had always taken some measure of pride in the fact that he did his job well.
When the Corporal of his second squad asked him for help with an investigation, he didn't even consider the possibility of not lending his assistance.
“The doctors had to sedate him, before they could get a proper look at his injury.” Corporal Red Brass trotted just ahead, counting doors as he recounted the events that had led them to the hospital. “Apparently he was hysterical, and...well, you know how pegasi get after a panic-flight.”
The Lieutenant snorted, rolling his shoulders to adjust the burnished copper plates that covered his neck and back. “I've had some experience—excuse me—with the phenomenon.” He spared half a glance at the harried nurse that had cantered past, shaking his head before turning his attention back to Brass. “He was injured?”
“Something got him across the face. Clinker thinks he caught himself on a branch after something startled him, but he's still not good about exploring all the options...ah, here it is.” The Corporal pushed a door open and held it there, nodding to the Lieutenant as he passed.
The inside of the room was standard hospital fare, neutral colors and lighting just a little too bright to be perfectly comfortable. A single bed sat close to the far wall, its occupant sleeping soundly as the heart-monitor beeped and hummed.
A unicorn in a clean, white coat and dotted bow-tie looked up as they entered, his expression a strange mixture of annoyance and relief. “More of you, hmm? Why am I not entirely surprised?”
“I'm sure it's because you're an intelligent pony, Doc.” The Lieutenant offered a tight smile, glancing toward the pegasus that lay resting. “Lieutenant Steel, at your service.”
“Doctor Heartstring. A pleasure.” His expression indicated that it wasn't entirely true. Steel didn't let it bother him, just focused his mind on the task at hoof.
“What do we have here, then?”
The unicorn sniffed imperiously, a chart hanging off the foot of the bed rising into the air for him to examine. “Young, male pegasus, by the name of Dust Mote. An examination showed signs of minor bodily injury indicative of a struggle, and a single, incised wound on the left of his face, extending several inches from the corner of his lips and upwards toward the ear.”
He glanced up at the Guards, turning the chart to another page.
“From what we could tell from his...admittedly fevered...story, he was attacked by a large creature that fell from the sky.” The chart hovered back to its place, the glow of the doctor's magic leaving it. “When we questioned further, of course, he became quite erratic, leading to our current situation...”
“When will he wake up?” The Lieutenant broke his silence, finally, a pensive frown on his face. “If what he says is true, we'll need to ask some questions of our own.”
“Oh, it'll be hours yet.” Heartstring cleared his throat, reaching up to adjust his bow-tie. “Between the sedative and the magical healing, he could be asleep until tomorrow morning.”
Blued Steel sighed, thinking it over. “Alright...alright then, Corporal? Have...Bluetip? He put in for extra hours, right?” At the Corporal's nod, he turned to look at the bed. “Call him in, have him stick around for awhile...I want to know when the colt wakes up–”
“On it boss.”
“–, Doctor Heartstring, I'd like you to let the Guard know as soon as that happens. If there's some sort've big animal plodding around nearby...I don't like the idea of waiting around until somepony runs into more trouble.”
The doctor sighed, and nodded. “Of course, Lieutenant. I'll speak with the nurses.”
“Wonderful.” The Lieutenant turned back to the door, absently noting that Red Brass had already gone. “If you'll excuse me, I've got an evening of paperwork to look forward to.”
And he had a sinking feeling that his workload would be increasing very soon.
Coffee was Steel's one and only vice. He'd bought the coffee machine specifically for late nights at work, a brand new model straight from Manehatten. Compact and quiet, it sat in the corner where his desk met the walls, burbling away with a comforting regularity.
He'd just finished brewing a new pot when one of his Guards stepped into his tiny offices, and he took the time to pour a cup before turning his attention to the armored stallion.
“What's the problem now?”
“The pegasus in the hospital woke up.”
His ears perked up, and he pushed the steaming coffee mug aside. “When?”
“Cloud Burst got in about a minute ago. Hospital's...what, four minutes out, flying? He's pretty fast, so it might've been three.”
“Cloud Burst? I left Bluetip there.”
The Guard shrugged. “He got called in to consult with another squad. Breaking and entering.”
Steel frowned. “Who authorized that?”
“The Captain.” An apologetic smile from the Guard. “Bluetip's got the experience, Lookout's squad doesn't. Simple as that.”
“I just wish he'd asked.” The Lieutenant huffed and circled around his desk, waving a hoof toward the door. “I'll be at the hospital. And thank Cloud Burst for me, too.”
“Sure thing, LT.”
“Uh-huh.” He snorted as the Guard backed out of the office, followed him out and tugged his door shut behind him.
He could have taken one of the sky carriages to the hospital, but he decided against it pretty quickly. First because it was most likely a waste of resources, and that never sat well with the Captain. And second...he had always felt that the Guard should be seen. To serve as a reminder that the streets were safe, and that there was someone to look out for everypony.
So the ten minute walk was in no way an annoyance. Not at all. No, it was a practice in social...philosophy, or something.
“Should've taken the sky carriage...”
The hospital was much quieter, so late in the day. It made his stop by the nurse's station that much easier, and he didn't have to wait too long to be led to the right room.
“Dusty?” The nurse called out as she opened the door, her tone soft and friendly. “Are you still up?”
“Uh...yes ma'am?”
Steel stepped inside, then, doing his best not to intimidate too much. “Hello there...Dusty, is it?”
The young pegasus blinked, once, his ears folding back as he turned his head a little further away. “Um...that's what most ponies call me.”
“Alright then.” The Lieutenant smiled agreeably. “I'm Lieutenant Blued Steel, Baltimare City Guard. Do you mind if I ask you a few questions? About what happened to you, I mean.”
“Oh.” Dust Mote shifted, pushing himself up until he was at least partially upright. The Lieutenant didn't miss the way he kept his head turned aside throughout the exercise. “No, I guess...I could answer a few.”
“I'll need to get back to the desk.” The nurse spoke up, again, still calm and friendly. “If you need anything, remember the call button.”
“Uh, yea...thanks.”
Steel stepped aside to let her through the door, nodding his own thanks. “How're you doing, Dusty? You healing up okay?”
“The, uh...the doctors said they did the best they could do. I'm going to be out by tomorrow.” He brushed a hoof over his matted coat, looking up from the corner of his eye. “They just want to be sure there isn't anything...weird.”
“Yea, they're like that.” The Lieutenant moved a bit closer, making a show of examining the wallpaper's patterns. “I remember...I broke a leg once, when I was in training. Heh...the doctor in charge was convinced I'd contracted some sort of magical infection that...how'd he put it? 'Instilled a state of denial', I think? It was ridiculous.”
He gave the bed a sideways glance, shaking his head. “Unicorns, you know?”
“I...I've got a friend.” Dusty gave a tiny, tired smile, head rocking from side to side in something like a shrug. “He spent a week trying to figure out why a color changing spell wouldn't work on his saddlebags.”
“And?”
“And what?”
The Lieutenant turned, smiling again. “Why wouldn't it work?”
“Oh!” Dusty's smile grew as well, turning a little sheepish. “He'd forgotten that he bought them with a water-proofing enchantment. It, uh...there was something about magical interference, I think, but he was talking for a long time, and there was this...this perfect sunbeam coming in through the window, so I, uh...well, I was kinda distracted, I guess. I don't really remember much of it.”
“Fair enough.”
There was a moment of silence, a bit more comfortable than it had been before. Steel took that as a sign to continue, turning his focus to more serious matters. “Dusty, I've got to ask you about what happened. About the creature.”
That fragile smile faded about as quickly as he'd expected it would, and the colt looked away. “I...I don't know what it was...”
“Anything you can tell me will help.”
There was a long silence, as the pegasus thought and the Lieutenant waited.
“It...it looked kinda like those, um...those dog things? I read about them in a book once...”
“Diamond Dogs.” Steel nodded. “But it wasn't a Dog, was it?”
“No.” Dusty shook his head, the tangle of his uncombed mane falling in his face. “It was...thinner. And it was wearing clothes. Like...all over it, not just a vest.”
The Lieutenant blinked. “Really?” That was...strange. “That's good, Dusty. That's useful, we can use that.” He edged forward a bit. “What else?”
“Its mane was...sorta green and brown.” Dusty licked his lips, eyes darting aside. “But I didn't see any other hair...it was all just bare skin...except...”
“Except what?”
“Its face.”
Another sinking feeling made him shudder, but the Lieutenant moved on anyway. “What about it.” Silence. After almost a minute, he moved to nudge the bed. “Dusty, what about its face?”
The pegasus started, and finally turned to face him fully.
Steel tried not to wince. He almost managed it, too.
Unicorn doctors were good at what they did. Higher end healing magic wasn't easy, so every one of them had talent, and some of the best training they could get. That didn't mean it was always a perfect fix, though. Even magic had its limits...
Scarring, for instance, could be especially hard to prevent.
The line of bare, red skin curled up from the colt's lip, forming a gruesome half-smile. A reminder he'd probably have his whole life.
“It...it was all...painted. Like...like a clown. Only all...smudged, and...and...scary.” Dusty's eyes glistened, tears threatening to spill over. “And the scars...it had these...scars. Like this.” An absent gesture at his own muzzle. “Somepony...cut a smile in...and...it said...it told me...it...”
“What did it say, Dusty?” Steel couldn't decide whether he was angry or...frightened. And the feeling set him on edge. “Can you tell me that?”
“It told me...how they did it.” The colt shuddered, clenching his eyes shut. “It told me...how they...made it scream so that it would...so that...it...oh, Celestia...”
“Hey, okay, calm down Dusty...I'm sorry, you don't have to talk about this now...just calm down now. Relax.”
Worse than he'd expected. A lot worse...
“I...it only...I think it was going to do the same thing to me.” The young pegasus continued. “But...but I kicked it, and I managed to...get away.”
“You did.” The Lieutenant sighed. “And it's a good thing, too. Now we know what to look out for, thanks to you.” He forced a smile as Dusty opened his eyes again. “We'll be able to keep an eye out for it.”
“...good.”
Another long moment of silence.
“Uh...look, it's late. I should get on this, and you look like you could use some more rest.” Steel rolled his shoulders, the habitual motion doing little to calm his nerves. “...you think you're gonna be okay?”
“...I think so...”
“You're getting out tomorrow, right? Do you want me to send a Guard or two to take you home?”
The pegasus looked down, his ears laying flat against his head. “...please?”
He finally managed to shake off the immediate, gut reactions. Focused on that one, frightened pegasus. “Alright. I'll send a guard by in the morning, and he'll make sure you get home safe and sound, okay?”
“Okay...”
“Good.” An easy nod. “Rest up, alright?”
And out the door again.
Steel took a deep breath in, blew it out through his nose. His armor rattled as he shook himself out, settling more comfortably across his back and shoulders...
Back to the office. He had a meeting to arrange.
The next morning was plenty of 'hurry up and wait'. With an emphasis on 'wait'. Steel went through a whole pot of coffee before he was able to get the Lieutenants and the Captain free all at once. The 'briefing' was short, as such things went. A general description and a warning to be careful. Really, it would have been easier to just write up a report, but an unknown and dangerous creature meant jumping through hoops.
After that, it was all finishing paperwork and reorganizing Guard details to better cover the areas close to the city limits...
“Lieutenant?”
Steel looked up from his map, setting his pencil aside with a sigh. Red Brass didn't often interrupt his planning sessions. “Corporal. What can I do for you?”
“Just thought I should let you know that Bluetip isn't going to be available for awhile.” An apologetic shrug. “There's been two more reported burglaries since yesterday. Lookout's requested to borrow him until it gets straightened out.”
“What?” The Lieutenant pushed the map aside incredulously. “Who's been hiding my memos? Is somebody going out of their way to make sure I don't know about this?”
“Erm...you sure you're not just missing'em, boss?”
“Of course I'm sure! This is the second time I've heard this from you instead of from Lookout! Or the Captain!” He slammed a hoof down on his desk, wincing as the wood compressed. “Ugh...did Cloud Burst...”
“Yea, he got the colt home.” Brass nodded. “Said he seemed okay. Quiet, though.”
“Doesn't surprise me.” Steel was quiet, for a few long moments. “Do you want to get a jump on your route?”
“Beats standing around here.” The Corporal snorted, scuffing a hoof on the tile. “Where do you need me?”
“East side, sector three. Bluetip was going to back you up, but I'll just have to send Cloud Burst to cover you and Iron at the same time.”
“Poor featherbrain'll be pickin' bugs out've his teeth all night.”
“Yea, well maybe I'll get my lead flier back before he has to do anything too complicated. Get going.”
“Yes sir.”
Steel sighed, as the door shut, and carefully laid the map back out.
Office politics, overtime, and half his supply of coffee gone. Not to mention three burglaries in two days, and a strange creature out attacking ponies...
…
“...horseapples.”
“Oh, Dusty.” The old unicorn squinted up at him as he stepped out of his room. “You're back! I wondered...wondered where you'd gone, deary, how are you?”
“I'm okay, Mrs. Needlepoint.” Dusty managed a tiny smile, adjusting his saddlebags to rest more securely on his back. “But I was just stopping in.”
“Oh, you're going back out, deary?”
“...sort've.” He ruffled his feathers, turning to look down the hallway. “I'm...um...I'm leaving Baltimare, for awhile.”
She gave a worried frown, blinking slowly. “Is something wrong?”
He hesitated again, but shook his head. “Not really. I just think I need a...a change of scenery.” His strained smile didn't change his quiet tone. “I've got a cousin who lives out in the country. I think the quiet will be...nice.”
At that, she smiled again. “Well you just enjoy that quiet. And you rest up for as long as you need. I'll keep your room tidy for you.”
“Oh! You don't need to do that, Mrs. Needlepoint...”
“Nonsense! You're the best boarder I've ever had!” Her smile grew. “Now don't let me keep you. I'm sure you want to get right to your travels. Why, I remember when I was your age, and I walked all the way from Canterlot to...to...well shoot, now where was that? Something with an 'H' I thought...”
Dusty winced, and pushed another smile. “Mrs. Needlepoint, I just remembered, I've got to catch my flight...thanks for everything, rent's on the dresser, I'll be back eventually, take care!”
He was gone. The unicorn blinked a few times, tilted her head...and chuckled softly. “Such a sweet young colt. As if I'd forget those wings of his...”
Outside, Dusty unfolded his map on the back of a bench. It wouldn't be a long flight, a few hops with a stop off in Cloudsdale...doable. He could do it. Easy-peasy.
“Yea...real easy.”
The sky was a cold comfort.
To say that he was confused would be a drastic understatement.
Locks on the doors, but they were hardly trying to put up a fight. Valuables were locked up in latched cabinets. And there didn't seem to be much worry in the way of 'controlled substances'.
Kerosene didn't have quite the same flair as gasoline, but it was much easier to find. In this place.
'Baltimare.'
He'd laughed for almost five minutes when he'd read the tattered newspaper. 'Baltimare'. A horse pun. So...lacking in originality! A cheap laugh, at best!
“Somepony, ev'rypony, anypony, run.” He muffled a laugh, tilting his head to better see himself in the clouded shard of glass. White greasepaint dripped from his fingers as he lifted it from the jar. It was cold, as he smeared it over his face...cold...
“From Bal-ti-mare tooo Canter-lot, we're gonna have some fun...” He hummed as he wiped his fingers off on a nearby towel, casting a casual glance over his shoulder and toward the window.
“Weeeee'll burn the cities through the day, until the setting sun...” Another dark chuckle, and he started with the black. Laid on thick, around the eyes...very nice.
“And break the cops that come around...to...erm...” He stilled, frowning at his reflection. “Y'know, Jackie boy...a song writer, you're not.”
Red. Red was the next. An easy curve with a sharp flick at either side...
“There's that winning smiiile...”
A clatter, and he jumped, knife snapping open in his hand. He stood, stumbling over the bucket he'd been using as a makeshift chair before pressing close against the wall beside the window. A careful glance out, into the bustling street...
Ha...just a cart...
“Colorful, aren't they? Eheh...” So many of them...walking around without a care in the world. They smiled, and laughed, and looked at each other like they trusted each other, and it was ridiculous! It was...disturbing, actually.
“Oh, as if I'm one to judge.” He heaved a dramatic sigh, hooking his arms up beneath his suspenders to pull them back on...and wincing when his shoulder cracked. “Urgh...who'da thunk that ball've fluff and feathers would pack such a wallop?”
The walls didn't answer, but he was used to that. Took the time to tighten his tie and straighten his collar before setting his bucket upright again and taking a seat. His eyes roamed the room fitfully despite his calm expression, and he hummed softly as he closed up the paint jars.
So much to do, and endless time. Without the Batman around, there wasn't a...heheh, looming threat...
Nobody fun to play with, either.
“Or...” he mused, sucking his teeth for a moment as he considered his jacket. “Nobody fun to play with...yet.”
Oh.
There was a Plan.
“Kerosene and...Ethylene...and little left to find me...” He snickered and stood, snatching up his jacket as he went. “A killedy dievy too, wouldn't you?”
He continued to hum as he padded through his little...lair. There were long days ahead. A whole new venue. A clean stage to...play upon.
“In h're!” Blued Steel huffed, tugging at a woven strap with his teeth until the latch clicked, the last armor plate locking into place on his back with a metallic snap.
Red Brass came trotting in as he tucked the strap out of sight, narrowly missing an open locker door when he turned the corner. “Boss! Hey, finally, I've been lookin' all over for ya!”
“I just got in.” Steel sighed, eying his Corporal's reflection in the polished sheen of his helmet. “Lemme guess...another fire?”
“There...wha...yeah...how...?”
“Singed feathers on the steps out front.” A practiced twist of his hoof, and the helmet settled snugly in place over his head. “They were still smoldering. Response team must have just gotten in.”
Brass stared for a second, then shook his head. “And that's why you're the boss.” He gave a strained chuckle. “Erm...The Captain wants you on this one, though...fresh eyes, I guess?”
“He knows that my brother spent three years in the Fire Department.” Steel snorted. “And he knows that I'll be able to put Pepper at ease because of it.”
The Corporal scuffed a hoof against floor, one ear flicking back for a moment. “So...are we going in?”
Steel just smirked. “Of course. Get your squad together, let Brightside know he's on standby...” He paused for thought, his smirk turning into a pensive frown. “Wait, hold on...ask him if you can trade out Cross Stitch for Haywire. I want her on the scene.”
“Stitch isn't gonna like that, y'know.”
“Brass?”
“Uh, yea boss?”
“Rooftop in ten.”
Brass gave a sheepish smile. “Right, I'll get to work, then...”
The Lieutenant snorted, kicking his locker shut before nudging past the Corporal. “You do that.” Through the door, out into the open hallways. Forward. “Can't afford to fall behind...”
The sky carriage touched down, light as a feather, rolling for a few feet before coming to a final stop. Ironhoof kicked the latch to let the ramp in back fall open, and the rest of the squad trotted out onto solid ground.
With varying degrees of grace.
“Ugh...Lieutenant?” Marigold stumbled forward, spreading her legs wide as she came to a stop in an attempt to regain her balance. “Why'd we have to fly?”
“Relax, dirtside.” Cloud Burst shrugged out of his harness, ruffling his feathers with a practiced shake before turning to smile at the others. “We just saved a twenty minute walk.”
“I'd rather walk. Walking is nice. Nopony ever got walking sickness...”
“Don't hear the others complaining about our flying.”
“My flying, you mean.” Bluetip snorted, flicking his tail to swat the lighter pegasus in the face as he passed. “I was carrying you halfway over here.”
“Hey!”
“Sorry to break up the love-fest...” Lieutenant Steel turned a steady glare around at the assembled Guards. “But we do have a job to do here. Now.” Nopony moved. “If you don't mind?”
The sudden flurry of apologies and 'Yes Sir's', while mildly amusing, got them nowhere. So Steel went ahead and started belting out orders. “Ironhoof, take Marigold and Cloudburst, form a loose perimeter. Just make sure nopony comes in too close. Bluetip, you and Haywire are with me. We're gonna go have a chat with the Fire Brigade...and somepony get that wagon out of the way. It's blocking traffic.”
Without waiting for a response, he headed for the burnt-out storefront at a canter. Hoofsteps, loud against the paving stones, followed behind. It was comforting to know that at least some of his subordinates could listen...
The mess in front of him had been an apothecary, at some point. An upscale establishment that acted as both a distributor and retailer of reagents. It had, for the longest time, supplied the various small shops and clinics, along with two hospitals, and the local college.
He felt a pang of sympathy for whatever poor paper pusher would have to deal with all the complaints. Not to mention the search for new suppliers...
“Hey!” Steel called one of the firefighters over, putting those stray thoughts aside in favor of his 'professional' gruff attitude. “Who's in charge here?”
“Sergeant's inside.” The heavy earth pony huffed, dropping a bundled-up hose next to the fire cart and adjusting his heavy coat. “Good luck.”
Wonderful. Poor moods all around.
Steel fought the urge to sigh, turning back to look at his Guards. Neither of them looked entirely enthusiastic either...it was very nice to know that he wasn't the only one not loving the early work.
“Bluetip, take a look around. See if you can see anything that would indicate a break-in.”
The pegasus blinked, once, before turning to eye the storefront. “You think somepony did this on purpose?”
“This is the fifth fire that the Guard has been brought in on. Does that scream 'accidental' to you?” Haywire sniffed imperiously, her tail swishing back and forth in annoyance. “Honestly, you pegasi...”
“Oh, just you wait sparky...”
“Would the two of you kindly shut up and get to work?” Steel ground out from behind gritted teeth, his patience already wearing thin. “Bluetip, move your flank. We've wasted enough time already. Haywire, you stick close and keep an eye out.”
They both looked properly chastised, Bluetip slinking away with his head down while Haywire very carefully avoided looking at the Lieutenant. Steel just took yet another moment to calm himself, lamented the fact that he hadn't had his morning coffee, and carefully made his way into the charred shell of the apothecary.
Scents of woodsmoke and scorched stone were readily apparent...for a short moment or two. A few steps into the ruin, however, and an undefined reek made him wish for a mask. His eyes began to water as he trotted further in, and he sneezed as he circled around a fallen beam...
And there was the group he was looking for. A few firefighters, sweeping through the remains of the store to be sure everything was extinguished. Steel motioned for Haywire to look around, wiping at his eyes as the unicorn picked her way around a broken shelf.
“Sergeant!”
A tall, heavy-set earth pony perked at his call, carefully setting down a half-broken counter top before turning to look. “...Steely?” The Sergeant gave a wide grin, reaching up to adjust his helmet. “I hardly recognize ya, in all tha' copper!”
Steel sighed, glancing down at his own armor for a moment. “Sergeant, I am here on business...”
“Oh, now what've I told'ja about tha', Steely?”
“...” Steel just stared, for a long moment. But he knew, for a fact, that he wouldn't get anywhere without playing along...which meant playing along. “Alright then, Pepper...” He made sure to enunciate the name, rolling his eyes as the older stallion chuckled. “What's the word? Why am I here?”
Pepper's smile faded a bit, as he looked over the wreckage. “Yea, well, tha's a bit've a thing.” He motioned for Steel to follow, nudging aside debris as he moved toward the remains of a doorway. “S'far as we can say, this perticular fire seems pretty simple.”
“I'm hearing a lot of uncertainty in that sentence.” Steel remarked as casually as possible with the sudden entrance into a room that seemed to lack anything resembling a ceiling. Weak rays of sunlight streamed down through the gaping hole in the roof, casting light over the pile of broken brick and scorched thatch that had been swept into the middle of the room...
“Do you have reason to believe this was intentional?”
“Fire started o'er this way.” Pepper nodded toward a particularly blackened corner of the room, stepping aside to let Steel move ahead. “Sniff around a bit.”
The Lieutenant nodded, edging forward as carefully as he could manage. His first, careful sniff just sent him into a sneezing fit, and it took a few seconds to gain control of himself again. But he did, eventually, manage to catch his breath...
And a very particular, cloying scent.
“Lamp oil?”
“Uh-huh.” Pepper moved up to stand beside him. “And take a guess 't what we didn't find.”
Steel sighed. “A lamp.”
“Tha's right.”
There was silence between them, then, the obvious implications universally unsettling.
That silence was shattered entirely as one of the wall panels fell inward with a crash, causing everypony nearby to jump in surprise.
Bluetip stood in the opening, slowly drawing his hoof back to rest on the ground.
“Uh...Lieutenant?”
Steel sighed again. “Yes?”
“...I think I found a point of entry.”
“I can see that.”
Pepper stomped the ground in irritation, eyes narrowing as he looked around. “No doubt about it, now.”
“Nope.” Steel shook his head, expression grim.
“This was arson.”
His stomach was growling by the time night fell, and he was quick to slip out of his impromptu hiding spot. The streets were quiet and very nearly empty, perfect for his purposes...
He gave the blackened shell of the potions shop a backwards glance...and smiled.
“Mm...this was a good day.” A muffled giggle, as he tugged the wagon into motion, the wheels creaking loudly with every turn. “Defffinitely a good day...”
A bee-yootiful fire, some tasty (stolen) food, and the wonderfully, entertainingly, terrible reactions from the locals. Oh, it had been so much fun watching them scramble around with absolutely no understanding of what was happening.
No he hadn't had so much fun in days. It made him feel on top of the world!
“Heheh...F is for fire that burns down the whole town...” He warbled, terribly off key. “U is for uranium...bombs!” A snicker, as he swept his hair back with one hand, and his voice rose until it echoed down the street. “N is for noooo surviiiivooors! When you're h-”
A light flickered on, and he hit the ground. Literally. He actually spent several seconds clutching at his head before managing to scramble back beneath the wagon and, hopefully, out of sight.
Not twenty feet away, a door opened wide. An elderly mare poked her head out a moment later, peering around curiously...before turning back inside to pick up an empty milk bottle and set it on the front stoop.
The door closed, the light turning off. Silence descended again.
And the Joker chuckled. “Shhh...sleep tight, little pony...” He pulled himself back out into the open, wincing as he straightened out. After a moment's consideration, he shed his jacket and tossed it on top of the wagon, rolling his sleeves up to his elbows and cracking his back. “Urrgh...aaand onward.”
Three blocks later, he pulled the wagon into an alley and let it rest. For several, long moments, he just stood, leaning heavily against a wall...
“Why is it so quiet?” The question echoed down the alleyway with all the aching frustration that had been building. “This is the big city! There should be...thugs and...wise-guys...”
He rubbed at his bared forearms, his attention jumping to the trash cans, the wagon, the wagon's wheel, the trash cans again...the sky.
The stars were unnaturally bright. He squinted, pushing away from the wall and pacing a slow circle. Watching the shiny little points of light. Too bright. The city was big enough to make it easy to lose...but the sky was clear.
It was quiet, too. And not just the crime...
“No, it's never just one thing, eheh...” No, no, it was the city at large. The streets were practically empty, even as early as it was (hardly two in the morning), and it made everything seem still.
Where was the hustle and bustle? The seething masses of panicky...idiots?”
A nice, big, public fire, with major property damage, plenty of chemicals to make it dangerous...
And nobody noticed. Nobody was...was preparing. Nobody was worried to go out.
“This...” He clicked his tongue, turning his attention back to the streets. “This is going to get...boring.” And far too quickly, too.
Of course, there was a simple way to fix that.
He snatched his coat up, kicking open the door to this new hideout with a vicious grin.
No more planning. No more tests.
Tomorrow would be a day for action.
The wagon was loaded in short order, and he started pulling. Five stops. Five carefully wrapped little...gifts. And a perfect little path or three.
Sunlight was just starting to glow on the horizon when he pulled the wagon into an out-of-the-way alley and curled up inside. The restlessness that had kept him moving finally abated, with the promise of future mayhem.
A few hours rest of rest. And then...
Then...
Steel got through two cups of coffee before the smell of smoke drifted into his office. For a brief second, he managed to ignore it, focus entirely on the carefully brewed drink...
But then he sighed, and pushed the mug to the far edge of his desk. He trotted out into the bullpen, nodding to both Lockstep and Lookout. Lookout hardly glanced his way, though Lockstep nodded back. The snub went uncontested, though, because a moment later, the Captain appeared, one of Lookout's Guards beside him.
“Steel! Get that squad of yours back to that potions shop!”
The Lieutenant frowned, raising his head and squaring off his stance to stand at attention. “What's the problem?” As if he didn't already know...
“It's burning again.”
And there it was.
Steel gave a sharp nod, snorted once, and turned his attention toward...there they were. Already gathered. He had to hide the smile that threatened to break his stern expression. “Alright, you lot. Rooftop, now.”
A chorus of 'Sir's. That time, he did smile.
The blaze had spread this time. Due it part, no doubt, to the lack of fuel left behind by the first fire. The fire wagon was in place, a pair of heavy earth stallions working the pumps as another two guided the water, fighting the flames to a standstill.
“Steely!”
Steel hardly blinked as he stepped out of the sky carriage, trotting to the Sergeant's side with an economy of motion that he rarely displayed. “Pepper. What's the story?”
“Report came in 'bout ten minutes past. Fire spread by the time we got 'round.”
“Any sign of the culprit?”
Pepper lifted a hoof to wave down the street. “Pair've foals were walkin' by. Said somethin' bout a 'clowny monster'.”
Steel stiffened, even as the squad came to stand around him. “A clown?”
“ 'ats what they said. Poor little'uns...”
There was a whole half minute where he stood, just trying to...decide.
And then he shook his head, sharply, and turned to his squad. “Bluetip! Cloud Burst! In the air, five minutes ago. You're looking for a biped, green mane, and it'll be trying to hide...”
“Sir?”
“You think it could be th-”
“Move!”
The two of them started, shared a glance...then saluted and took to the air. Steel watched as the guards started to circle in the air, scraping the edge of his hoof along the paving stones. A nervous gesture. “Brass, get the restraints out of the carriage.”
His Corporal nodded once, apparently catching onto the general idea that the situation was 'serious'.
Haywire stood at his side, shifting her weight carefully from side to side. Obviously uncomfortable with the sudden turn of events. “Sir, if I can ask...”
“Yes, I think it's highly possible.” Steel grit his teeth. “Too many coincidences, too close together.”
Pepper looked around for a few moments, now about as edgy as the others. “Steely? What's this all about, then?”
“It's complicated, Pepper.”
“Yea, an' I'm askin' for an explanation.”
Steel snorted, his attention on the slowly dwindling fire. “Little while ago, a colt was attacked just outside town. Told us about a strange creature with its face painted up like a clown.”
The fire sergeant's eyes widened. “Clown monster?”
“That's what I'm thinking, yea. And if I'm right, th–”
A loud BANG drew all eyes down the street. Thick, black smoke became visible, even from so far away.
“...it's been starting fires, Brass, Haywire, we're moving now!” He took off at a gallop, vaguely registering the sound of the other two behind him. The clank of armor, clatter of hooves, the startled and frightened cries of the ponies ahead...
It had probably been a market stall, but all that had been left was a pile of scattered wood and fruit. Cloud Burst was already on the scene, standing over a pony in a ruined apron. The stallion was breathing, thankfully, but his face and neck were blackened with soot.
A flicker of movement, too tall to be a pony.
“Brass, Alley!” The Corporal didn't have to ask, already rushing ahead. “Haywire, what did this?”
Her horn lit with a bright yellow glow, magic sweeping down and over the wreckage as she stepped closer. It began to swirl in a localize spot, and she tilted her head, took several deep breaths.
“Lamp oil, sir, a few more volatile reagents...most likely the ignition source...” Her eyes flashed. “They created a slight delay between mixing and the reaction. How it set it off without being seen...”
“It's early yet, no crowds of alert witnesses. And let's be glad for that. Cloud, get back in the air, find Bluetip, and start tracking the thing. Haywire, I want you sweeping.”
“Sir, if we're on the move...”
“Multitask.”
He broke into a gallop again, turning the corner of the alley just before a wave of yellow light overtook him, sweeping ahead of him at a constant rate. Not far enough out for advanced warning, but hopefully it would at least help with t–
Another explosion. Another cloud of greasy smoke.
Too slow.
He pushed himself faster, skidding out into the street to see Brass lingering at another corner, further down.
“Lieutenant! This way!”
No breath wasted on a response. His heart raced as he neared the corner, some distant part of him recognizing the tiny restaurant across the street, its shattered windows belching thick smoke out into the air.
He drew even with Brass, heard Haywire on his tail. Saw his fliers darting back and forth overhead.
Seconds passed like minutes. Another explosion, this one bigger than the others, made his stomach churn, his labored breathing catch. Ponies were starting to panic, but he couldn't stop, theycould afford it. Who knew what else the thing had, what it was planning...
What it was planning.
His squad rushed past a tiny park, a gazebo and nearby tree alight with flames. But now his mind was racing as fast as his heart. The thing was planning. It had started fires in secret, it hadn't been spotted once, but today it was suddenly out in the open?
And it had a path. Multiple fires, explosive devices...it was all too deliberate.
He could see it, ahead, stumbling as it darted into a narrow side-street. Brass led the way...the thing was just ahead, pulling itself upright against a wall. It must have tripped, or...
“Lieutenant!”
Steel dug his hooves in, momentum nearly carrying him to the ground before he was able to turn...
Haywire had stopped, her horn glowing, eyes wide...
...staring at a trash can...
...magic highlighting a length of twine laying tangled on the ground where unwary hooves had torn it loose...
...a smoking hole in the side of a trashcan...
A path. It was a path. And paths always led somewhere.
It had been herding them.
He closed his eyes, as the world erupted with a flash of fire and a deafening bang.
Time blurred. His ears rang and colorless starbursts blinded him. He tried to stand again, but his legs wouldn't let him, tangling with each other in a complete lack of coordination...
Something heavy landed off to his side, and he caught a brief glance of rope, cloth. Something struggling beneath it, loose feathers and hooves barely peeking out...
Pressure against his neck. Rough fabric covered his snout. Something sickly-sweet made his head spin.
There was a weight pressing down on him, from every direction...or...maybe it was more a matter of his body having turned to lead...
“How...how does that even begin to work? Honestly. It's a hammer...”
No...no, that wasn't right. This was familiar...it was. He could remember it. What was this feeling. Something...hospital? Yes, the hospital...
“...I'm beginning to wonder if I should've...eheh...should've thought about...ahAHAha! Ha...hehemph...thought this out a little more.”
It had been a hospital hadn't it? A...a surgery! That was it! Anesthesia...Steel groaned, as an attempt to turn his head made his whole neck burn. Why...?
“...”
Shifting sound close by drew his wavering attention, but the effort of his first move had drained what little strength he'd gathered.
“Now this is just so sudden...I'm nowhere near ready yet...time just seems to fly, doesn't it?”
Something prodded his side, like somepony had poked him with a stick.
“Hey...wake up...c'mon...wake up.”
Quiet urging. He focused on the voice, rallying himself for what seemed like an impossible task...
“Wake up!”
He opened his eyes...
“Now Gotosleep!!”
The frying pan bounced off his skull, and the darkness came over him again.
Steel woke with a jerk, reality washing over him all at once. A sore ache in his legs, what was probably some serious bruising on his back...and his head. That one was a mind-numbing, throbbing hurt...
“You...oh, you are just going to continue to make things...difficult, aren't you?”
“Wha...?” The Lieutenant coughed on the word, his mouth and throat itching and parched. “Wh-”
“Oh, ah...that's normal. Well...well, I think so, anyway.”
There was something very wrong with the situation. Steel felt a shiver run down his back, painfully aware of it thanks to the excess of pain...
“You know...I didn't really...eheh, expect that to work as well as it did.” The voice continued, dragging his raw nerves over shattered glass and sandpaper. “And I gotta say...I'm disappointed in you 'Guards'.”
Through a monumental application of will, Steel managed to open his eyes, at least in part.
The first thing that caught his attention was the lamp, burning on top of a wooden crate. The light stabbed at him, making the pain in his head infinitely less bearable. He had to close his eyes again almost right away, and fight off a wave of dizziness...
“I mean seriously. First the fires, without a single suspicion of...in-tent.” The speaker clicked its tongue, moving closer, in front of the blinding lamplight. Steel cracked his eyes open again, just a sliver...and he felt a fresh wave of nausea at the sight of the hulking shadow.
“And then...eheheh...and then you just waltz right into my little trap...and BAM!” Something hard slammed into the wood beside his head, sending a shock of pain through his skull...wood...wood, and slightly hollow...no, not hollow. Just thin. On level with the crate, too...a table.
Table. Steel latched onto the new information. Drugged, a strike to the head, and on a table. That was...that was good. More details. Details were good.
“Y'know, I actually thought you might be a challenge.” The voice continued, in that...sickeningly amused, up-and-down way. Reedy and raspy and just wrong. “I mean, have you seen this place? It's crazy! Utterly in-sane! And far, far too perfect. So! I thought to myself, 'Just how...do these strange little things manage it, hmm?', and the answer I came up with...ha! It's high-larious, y'know...now that I've seen you...”
The Lieutenant managed to pry his eyes open again. And he couldn't help that initial shiver of panic, at the sight of that face hovering above him. Dark, beady eyes, garish makeup, and a yellowed smile full of teeth that most definitely weren't made for eating plants. And the scars...the twisted mockery of a grin...
“I thought...that you...you Guards? That you might be something special. To be able to...instill some sort of order where there should only be...Chaos.”
Steel whimpered despite himself, as strange, grasping fingers pulled at his mane, forcing him to try and raise his head along with it.
“Ha! Was I ever wrong about that...”
“Wh...” Steel coughed, fresh pain shooting through him from the exertion. “What...do you...want?”
The creature frowned, the expression exaggerated and mocking. “Who...me?” False disbelief, as it pulled his mane again. “What do I want? What...what makes you think I want anything!?”
When the Lieutenant didn't respond, the thing rolled its eyes and let his head drop again to bounce sharply on the table. “Oh, alright. If you're gonna be such a spoilsport about it.”
Steel blinked as something clicked...and froze, when a sharp point touched against his throat.
“I waaaant...answers.” The thing grinned again, as the point pressed deeper.
“And you're gonna give'em to me.”
Brightside heaved a tired sigh, eying the map in front of him. The multitude of colored pins stuck in it, all across the city.
Blue for break-ins. Red for fires. Green for each of the five explosive devices that Haywire had recovered. And yellow for every sighting they could confirm.
No order to it. No greater pattern. It was, by all accounts, random.
And that just didn't sit right with the Corporal.
“Let's run through it again.”
Brass groaned, his head dropping to the table-top with a thunk. “We've gone over it six times, Brightside...”
“Yea, well the LT is still missing, and we haven't gotten anywhere yet. So go over it again.” A brief pause, and he turned to Haywire. “Tell me about the explosives again. You found traces of reagents from the apothecary, right?”
“It's the only place that was broken into, and that had the stock.” Haywire nodded. “They weren't exactly common ingredients. And the reaction wasn't something that just anypony would be able to set up...”
“So the thing knows how to mix potions, we got it the fourth time around.” Brass scoffed. “C'mon, Brightside, we should be out there looking, not in here talking...”
“Lamp oil and glass jars from the residences.” Brightside spoke over him, ignoring the irritated scowl from his colleague. “Along with food, kitchen knives, a few pots and pans...”
“And a wagon.” Bluetip added. “Don't forget the wagon. Those movers made a pretty big stink about it...”
Ironhoof perked up from his slump at the end of the table. “Huh...?”
“Of course, because a couple of inconvenienced civvies is definitely worth our time when the Lieutenant is gone.”
“Jeeze, featherbrain. Think you can set the suck-up aside for a few minutes and actually contribute?”
“I dunno, sparky. Got anything besides lamp oil and party tricks?”
“Uh, hey...”
“Will everyone please calm down a moment so we can listen to the Corporal?”
“Nobody asked you, Stitch.”
“Yea, butt out!”
“Hey!”
The other Guards jumped as Ironhoof slammed a hoof down on the table, sending the far end jolting up off the floor.
It caught Haywire beneath the chin, and mug of lukewarm water was launched into the air to bounce off of Cross Stitch's helmet...before emptying its contents down his neck.
In the stunned silence that followed, Ironhoof shifted from hoof to hoof. Laid his ears back with a sheepish sort of look. “Erm...sorry...but, uh...you mentioned a wagon?”
Bluetip nodded, sparing an almost sympathetic glance at Haywire as she whimpered softly. “Uh, yeah. One've the recent thefts was an old wagon from a moving business. Dinky little thing compared to some of the others they had...”
Ironhoof nodded, scuffing his hoof on the floor. “Right...a moving wagon...kinda like the one the Lieutenant had me move out of the way when we went to investigate the apothecary fire? The first time, I mean...”
Cloudburst's eyes widened. “Yeah...yeah, it was blocking traffic...just sitting there, in the middle of the road. I remember that!”
Cross Stitch frowned as he trotted to Haywire's side, dripping all the way. “It could easily be a coincidence.” He swatted the other unicorn's hoof away from her bleeding lip, a pale green light surrounding the slightly-swollen area a moment later. “Of course, it could also be a very good lead.”
“It's a great lead!” Brass grinned, eyeing the map almost hungrily now. “We go back to the witnesses, see if anyone saw a moving wagon...and then we find the wagon, and the Lieutenant with it!”
Brightside didn't look convinced. “If this thing is as smart as we've been giving it credit for, it could very easily have ditched the wagon by now...”
“There'll still be evidence, though.” Bluetip pointed out, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “Something that'll point us in the right direction...” His ears perked up, then, his wings shifting with an almost imperceptible rustle. “Sir, I'd like to take some of the other fliers out to start looking for this thing.”
“There's already a search team out there...”
“We can coordinate with them, then. Let'm know what they're looking for.” Cloudburst pointed out. “It's the best option we got.”
There was a long moment of quiet, during which everypony in the room turned their attention to Brightside. Waiting for his word.
And, after a time, he hung his head. “Yes, fine. Go.” He watched the pair salute and scurry out, sighed again despite himself. “Brass? Next time the Lieutenant decides to go on vacation, you get to call the shots.”
“Heh...I'll hold you to that one.”
“You think they'll find anything?” Haywire murmured, giving her healed lip an experimental poke or two despite Cross Stitch's disapproving frown. “I mean...they've gotta find something, right?”
“They'll find something. Him. They'll find him.” Brightside smiled, the expression strained but genuine. “Definitely.”
Nopony was quite sure what to say, after that.
So there was silence.
The cold water jolted him awake, and for that brief moment between oblivion and reality, it offered a comforting numbness against the outside world.
But then the searing lines of fire and pain burnt themselves into his skin again, and he moaned.
“Ah-ah-ah...none of that now...” The laughter that followed hurt almost as much as his wounds did, scraping against his will. “Y'see...you can't hear me if you're not...awake”
The word brought more pain, a new line drawing itself just above a hoof. That knife again.
“And I've still got questions. Questions that you just seem dead set against answering.”
Steel shuddered, doing his best to think about anything other than the debilitating pain in his head, the pain from the cuts, the subtle grinding of bone against bone as his broken hind legs gave an involuntary twitch...
“Hmph...I take it back.” The flat of the knife came to rest just beneath one closed eye, and Steel flinched away instinctively. “You...youuuu are a tough nut to, uh, crack. Ffffriend.”
He wondered, absently, how long it would be until blood loss drove him into unconsciousness. If he would wake up again. The idea sent a jolt of cold fear down his spine, a harsh contrast to the burning pain...
“And I'm a little hurt, to be perrr-fectly honest.” He didn't need to open his eyes to see the pout on the thing's face, felt his gorge rise at the thought. “Because these're...I mean, they're really simple questions! And who knows...eheheh...maybe I'd even let you go!”
“I'll...ugh...” Steel groaned, cracking a smile as he opened one eye. “I'll answer...all th' questions y'like...once yer locked up'n...in Tartarus.”
“Hmm...” The thing looked down at him with a frown, brow scrunched in an awful caricature of deep thought. “That sounds just...terribly ominous.”
It stood to its full height, whirling around to stalk toward its...tools.
“Mmmhmm...you, ah...y'know...I couldn't help but notice your very par-tic-ular lack of, uh..shoes.” It glanced over its shoulder, holding up an old horseshoe. “Now I can't say as I, ah, know a whole lot about horse–ponies! Sorry, right, ponies...”
Steel very nearly whimpered as it turned back again, a hammer gripped in one slim hand, mismatched shoes in the other.
“But it can't be that hard to do this! Am I right? I'm right, aren't I?” It grinned as it sat down again. “Now, these things're...well, I had to go digging for'em, you understand. After all, I couldn't very well just, uh...drop into a shop. No, I had to visit...a few.” It paused, then dug in its coat...
The Lieutenant very nearly passed out again as it held up the nail.
“I, uh...I'm hoping that this'll be long enough.”
Too long, Steel could already tell. But then, that would probably be the point of it.
“Here...c'mere.” He twitched feebly as the thing grabbed up a forehoof, unable to summon the strength to resist the iron grip. “Lemme just...here...”
Happy thoughts, happy thoughts, happy thoughts...
Pain.
Marigold shifted, her tail flicking back and forth in an obvious display of nerves. “You sure about this, Bluetip?”
“We checked with the moving company, and Ironhoof recognized their logo.” The pegasus nodded, uncharacteristically somber. “There's too many coincidences piling up for it to be completely random.”
“I know that! I'm not...stupid.” She frowned, glancing down the street. “It's just...it's...” After several moments of searching for the word, she shook her head. “Ugh. I dunno. Yea, I'll make sure the others know what to look for.”
“Great.” Bluetip nodded once before spreading his wings wide. “Good luck.”
“You too...” She watched him take to the air, her expression pensive. “Oh Celestia I hope we find him soon...”
A brief pause, and she shook herself out, turning back to the gathered earth-pony Guards. “Um...everypony listen up! We've got a new target...”
Cloud Burst snorted, catching another updraft to regain the altitude he'd lost in his dive. He'd be so sure...
“That's six wagons, down,” Bluetip snickered, “and what, three hundred to go?”
“Glad you can joke about it, mister 'lead flier'.” Cloud Burst frowned, squinting at the streets below as he angled his wings for a smooth glide. “I mean, after all, it's just the Lieutenant's life on the line...”
“C'mon, Cloudy, you know I'm just as worried as the others are.”
“Hmph...” The pale pegasus tilted his head, adjusting his path to take him over an alleyway...empty. “I'm going to check with Boggle's group. See if they found anything yet...”
“Don't you think they'd signal us, if that was the case?”
“You've met Boggle, right?”
“...yea, you'd better go check on them.”
“Back in ten.” And with that, Cloud Burst broke off to head further into the city.
Bluetip turned his attention back to the ground, carefully picking out the many different carts and smaller wagons...
That one was just about big enough, and out of the way...he swooped down, landing at a trot.
No, this one was a caravan. Somepony's home. Definitely not the target.
Back into the air. Never stop moving...
“Corporal Brightside!”
“Lockstep.” The Corporal turned away from the scattered witness reports, rubbing at his eyes with one hoof. “Have you got something?”
“...I think so.”
That was...unexpected. But it was good news, and good news was the very best sort. “Tell me everything.”
“Uh, yea.” The younger earth-pony nodded, moving up to the table in order to see the map. “A new witness came forward. Apparently she saw a wagon without anypony pulling it on the street the night before last. Fits the description from the moving company.”
“You canvased the area?”
Lockstep nodded. “And they found it. Under a tarp. They're searching nearby buildings, but...nothing so far.” His ears laid back. “We can't be sure he would actually be nearby...”
“It's worth a shot.” Brightside sighed, considering the map, the reports, the endless paperwork...
“Tell me the minute you find anything else.”
“Yes sir...”
He wouldn't do the Lieutenant any good out in the field. Not when the mess was piling up in the office. No, he'd stay...
And he'd wish the others luck.
“Mmm, y'know, it makes...me...wonder.”
Steel shuddered, wondering at the...lack of feeling. The way that the molten fire, the breaks and the cuts and the aching in his head, the sharp hurt in his hooves, the muffling itch in his ears...all of it had faded. Like...a clock. Ticking...ticktock...
“This, uh...'Celestia'? I gotta wonder just...how much in-fluence she really has.”
You could get so used to the sound of that clock, that it could almost seem to disappear. Not that it was ever really gone, but you just started to ignore it out of habit.
“It makes so much sense...that there's some sort've goddess playing around with this world.” A manic chuckle. “Much more...bee-lievable than it just sort've springing up this way.”
He'd answered the questions. It hadn't been a conscious choice, but...it had hurt so much. And the questions were so harmless...questions about Celestia, and Luna, and Canterlot...
“Are you even paying attention anymore?” The thing huffed in annoyance, and Steel felt his neck turn, his head rise. But he didn't open his eyes, didn't try and struggle. Didn't do much more than breathe. “Hmm...no.”
The thud of the table against his skull sent a single, slow wave of hurt cutting through the numbness. It was so...tiring. He couldn't help but imagine...sleep. Rest. And would it really be so bad, if he didn't wake up again?
“Y'know...I wish that, uh...that big, snakey guy had bothered to drop me with a video camera. Maybe a...a TV. This would all be soooo much funnier if they could have seen...”
The voice was tiring. The pain was tiring. Thinking was tiring. And Steel was just...done. It couldn't keep him awake any longer.
He welcomed the sleep.
The Joker couldn't help but frown as the copper (the armor was made of copper, so it made so much more sense than it had back home) stopped twitching, his shallow breathing the only motion left in him.
“Hmph. Rude.”
He stood, wiping his hands mostly clean on an already-bloodied rag as he rolled all the new ideas around in his head.
“Princesses, dragons, and griffons...oh my.” He paused, winced, and dropped the rag. “Oh, that was utterly terrible. I don't often...eheheh...don't often say it, but I think I need to sleep.”
“Oh, but who has the time!? There's so much left to do! New rules, after all...”
“...hmm...” He frowned, started gathering up the few things he would be taking with him. “I'm thinking I should, uh...make time.” Soon. Definitely.
Still, new things, new ideas...it was exciting! Oh, and potential all around. He had especially appreciated the story of 'Nightmare Moon'. "Now there was a...eheheh...a mare after my own heart.”
Revolution! Anarchy! “Ah...ahahaha!”
A sharp crash, and he choked down the uncontrolled laughter, tugging his coat on as quickly as he could manage...
A surge of heat, as one of his firebombs went off in the doorway. Or, more accurately, out the door. Between the trashcan he'd packed the thing in and the hallway that separated the door and his little workroom, he was hit with little more than hot air...much more fortunate than whatever poor fool had just kicked the door down.
“Time to go.” He chuckled again, stumbling toward the window in the back. “So long, Baltimare!”
Glass shattered, and with that, he was gone.
Ironhoof coughed, shaking out what was left of his mane...only to have Cloudburst open a miniature storm cloud over his head.
The last of the...smoldering bits...finally stopped smoking, and the armored earth-pony sighed in relief.
“Cloud Burst, get that thing over here! We need to get inside!” Marigold stomped irritably at the ground, eyeing the burning remains of the door, the veritable carpet of fire that had formed due to whatever had been in the bomb.
Cloud Burst began to move the carefully constructed rain cloud, but a spark of magic in front of his face brought him up short.
Below, Haywire turned her attention from the pegasus to the fire. “You do that, it's just gonna spread! Honestly, you ponies are idiots sometimes!” Her magic spread out, sweeping the fire away...
Marigold and two Guards from Lookout's squad rushed inside, Haywire just behind. Cloud Burst and Bluetip landed themselves close to the door, both of them shifting in obvious discomfort, while further back, Cross Stitch tended to Ironhoof...
“Bluetip!” Marigold came skidding back out, her eyes wide with panic. “Get your flank to the hospital! We need a full response team! Cross Stitch, we need you!”
Bluetip didn't question her, and was in the sky not a second later, Cross Stitch moving past the hyperventilating Marigold at a controlled canter.
“What's happening?” Cloud Burst shifted uncomfortably, looking just about ready to bolt at any moment. “Is the Lieutenant in there? Is he hurt?”
“I...yeah...yeah, he's in there.” Marigold swallowed. “And he's hurt...p-pretty...”
When she trailed off, nopony picked up the line of thought. And it stayed that way until Cross Stitch trotted out...looking sick.
“The Lieutenant is...alive.” He answered the unasked question. “Definitely...alive.”
A sky carriage landed nearby, and a number of medical response unicorns offloaded.
“Inside.” Cross Stitch stepped aside, nudging Marigold out of the way as well. “He'll need blood replenishment and treatments for shock.”
The unicorns trotted inside without a moment's pause.
“...is he gonna be okay?” Marigold's voice was small, and sad.
Cross Stitch looked at her for a moment, turning to Cloud Burst and Ironhoof in turn.
“I think so.” His expression was sad. “And...I'm not sure that's a good thing.”
Nopony said a word after that. Not one, as Steel was taken out on a stretcher.
Ponyville, in the aftermath of Discord's reappearance (and subsequent re-imprisonment), had settled into a strange sort of normality. The weather team kept the sky in check, the market bustled. Ponies went to work, foals went to school...and the whole place was just a quiet little town again.
That was the strange part, actually. Things being normal.
Well...mostly normal. There was the one incident with Twilight's temporary bout of stress-induced insanity. That had shaken things up, and offered an interesting topic of conversation. For about a week. But then everypony knew everything there was to know about it, which really took all the fun out of the gossip.
And while the quiet was nice, it did lead some ponies to try and...alleviate the boredom.
“Twilight! Hey, hey Twilight! Over here! Look! Hey!”
The ever-so-humble town librarian sighed wearily, debating for as long as she dared whether or not to pretend she'd imagined the voice and just continue casually on to her home for a relaxing cup of her new chamomile tea. And maybe one of those corn muffins. Oh, and she had just picked up a jar of rose hip jelly...
“Then again...” She rolled her eyes, putting on her most patient smile as she turned to see–
Twilight pushed herself up with as much care as she could muster, shaking her head wildly in an attempt to counteract her inner-ear's best try to acquaint her even more thoroughly with the ground. “Ugh...Pinkie?” She squinted as a pair of smudgy pink ponies swam into view, swinging rather sickeningly back and forth before finally resolving into a single, familiar figure. “What're you doing?”
“Trying to make sure you're okay, silly!” There was honest concern in those blue eyes, though Pinkie's smile was set firmly back in place a heartbeat later. “Also, now that you're here, I totally need your help calibrating my brand new party cannon!”
Twilight blinked a few more times as she settled herself back on all fours, glancing past her friend to see the smoking barrel of a large, colorful cannon, more than a fair distance away. A brief moment later, she finally took notice of the soot that blackened her friend's coat and mane in places.
'How did I miss that, exactly?'
“I...I take it something's wrong with it?”
“Well duh.” Pinkie gave her one of those 'Omigosh Twilight, you're totally an egghead, how do you not know this?' looks, a particular variation that she'd finally translated into the more specific, 'Omigosh, Twilight, you're totally an egghead and so should be smart enough to realize that I'm Pinkie Pie and you just gotta deal with it'. “It just blasted me, like, forty feet! And, I mean, it was really awesome and all, and I should keep the recipe for the powder 'cause Dashie will be waaaay into it, but right now it's probably kinda overdoing it for the welcoming party tonight, and I really really really wanna make the best impression for Lily Blossom's cousin!”
Twilight took a long moment to process that, making sure she was properly addressing each point. “Ah...alright...I'm guessing you just need to reformulate your blasting powder...depending on what you're trying to do with it, of course...by tonight? Tonight...what am I doing tonight?” There were several projects in their varied stages, after all, and research to be done...
Then again, this was something new. And the thought of something new was just exhilarating, really. It put a smile on her face, as she levitated her saddlebags from where they'd fallen and settled them across her back.
“Right! Bring it by the library in a little while. Spike can give the powder a taste and tell you where you went wrong...I'll find a book or two on firework construction, and we'll see if we can't adapt it...”
“Oh, thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou!” Pinkie's grin was a little frightening, as she took to bouncing in a tiny circle. “You're the absolute bestest best unicorn friend that lives in a library-tree-thing in Ponyville I know!”
“Yes, well...I do my best?” Twilight eyed her for a moment, then cleared her throat, smoothing out her mane with a spark of applied magic. “Sooo...I'll just go ahead and...go, now?”
“Uh-huh! I'm gonna go show Rainbow Dash, and then I'll bring it by for you to do your magicy-magic thing and magic it right on up with the magic and the sparkly colorful lights and the magic...”
Pinkie continued to ramble, and Twilight took a slight step back to make it a little more clear that she did intend to leave. “Oookay then...talk to you later...” When that got no response (besides some increasingly disjointed commentary on the particulars of magic from a solely earth pony perspective), she just turned and left.
'Not the most polite thing to do, but if she wants me to have the time to work on her cannon...thing...I'll need to take care of a few other things first...'
Yes, other things like the high grade hoof polish that she was in the process of improving (another half-hour at a steady boil would bring it to the ideal temperature and consistency for the process she had in mind, while leaving just enough time to prepare her tea), or the embroidering that still needed to be done on her cloak for Nightmare Night (Rarity had offered, of course, but Twilight knew for a fact that she was already swamped with requests for similar projects, and so had taken it on as a practical experience)...
Well, the long and short of it was that she was a busy mare, darn it! And the last thing she needed was to blow her lab up because she'd neglected to take the proper time for preparation! Which, now that she considered it, was probably a goal important enough to warrant a whole new schedule, which of course would involved taking more time to plan...it was all very complex, and required a certain amount of dedication. Really.
“Spike!” She tried, really tried, not to sound rushed as she kicked her door shut behind her. “Spike, where have you gone now?”
She'd squared her saddlebags away by the time her favorite assistant descended the stairs, rubbing at his eyes...had he been sleeping!? With a relatively unattended cauldron in the basement!? What if the wards had failed? What if the redundant wards had failed!?
'No!' Twilight shook her head sharply, the focused haste returning with its familiar intensity. 'Confidence, Twilight. Have a little confidence in your work...'
“Spike, there you are, wonderful!” She forced her very best smile on, the expression settling in after only a few moments and improving her mood greatly. “I need references and technical guides. Anything you can find for firework construction.”
He blinked a few times, and she felt a flash of something that was both exasperated and amused. “Uh...why the sudden interest in fireworks?” Was that worry in his voice? The exasperation faded entirely, as she remembered the last time he'd...interacted with fireworks.
“Pinkie Pie has a new cannon...thing. Something to do with parties.” A small box rose from her saddlebags, drifting at her side as she trotted towards the kitchen. “I'm not quite clear on all the details, but she needs help reformulating the blasting powder.”
“Awww...you're gonna make me test it, aren't you?” Spike groaned as he moved to follow, rubbing at fitfully at his stomach. “You know that stuff gives me indigestion.”
“I know that you were half as tall as you are now, and tried to eat your body weight in the stuff. Have you gotten your claws on any since then?”
He paused, shifting from foot to foot in obvious discomfort. Twilight just eyed him for a moment, in the way that she knew made him quite aware that yes, she did know him very well and no, he couldn't pretend otherwise.
“I won't know for sure until I've talked to her a bit more, but I think I've already got a few ideas that could help. I'll just need you to have a little taste to verify the formulas and make sure that her ingredients are...what she thinks they are.” After all, as surprisingly meticulous as Pinkie Pie could be, she was also very prone to...improvisation, when not under the strict guidance of, say, the Cakes. Or, in this case, a particular librarian unicorn with a bad habit of overworking herself.
“Oh, and could you start the kettle while I check downstairs? I want to check the cauldron. Thanks! You're the best!”
She left before he could respond, and vanished into the basement, never to return.
At least, not until snacks were ready.
Twilight had just picked up her needle and thread when Pinkie kicked her door open, tail thrashing into view a moment later as she backed her way inside...dragging the cannon with her, a pair of bulging saddlebags draped over the barrel.
“Phwew! This thing gets heeaaa-vy! I mean, it's not that bad when you're just aiming it, or, y'know, deploying it and junk, but running it all over ponyville is just exhausting.” She shook herself out, her mane bouncing comically for a moment, and when she saw Twilight sitting at her writing desk her expression lit up. “Heya Twilight! What'cha makin'? Oh! Is it a blanket!”
The librarian, ever quick on the uptake, stared first at her friend, then down at the cloak that she'd folded on the edge of the desk. “Wha...oh, this? No, no...it's a cloak, actually.”
“Neat!” Twilight jumped as Pinkie leaned in to examine the cloak, having apparently decided to sprint across the room in complete silence while she wasn't looking. “I like the wonky stars!”
“Thank y-” 'Wait...wonky?' “What do you mean, 'wonky'?” Twilight levitated the cloak to get a better look...and quickly set it aside, sweeping the rest of her sewing things into a pile beneath it, a noticeable blush warming her cheeks. “Nevermind...you brought the whole cannon?”
“Uh-huh! I wasn't sure what you'd need to do when you go all WoOooEEEooOo...” Pinkie rocked back on her haunches to wave her hooves in the air, apparently feeling the need to demonstrate the...whatever that had been. “So I just brought the whole kit! All my ingredients and stuff too!”
Which would explain the saddlebags. Twilight reflected on the fact that there was probably a relatively large amount of explosive material there. Something that...she really should have accounted for, but hadn't. Oh.
“That's...great!” Her smile was very close to sincere, though she was quick to position herself between Pinkie and her things. “Why don't you go find Spike while I...unpack! Yea!” She gave a chuckle that wasn't the least bit nervous, tossing her mane in a perfectly casual manner. “I think he's in the kitchen!”
“Ooooo...”
'Right, Pinkie distracted.' Twilight sighed, carefully levitating the saddlebags to the circular table that she'd cleared off specifically for...well, not exactly that purpose, but close enough that it would serve. 'Best to set up properly while it's quiet...'
First came jars of what looked like mixed blasting powder (which were quickly treated with a spell that would serve to keep them from spontaneously turning the interior of her library into a scorched mess), then jars of raw materials. Sulfur, charcoal, saltpeter, plenty of them all to work with.
'So, I'll have Pinkie Pie show me how she normally mixes her powder, and then we'll see if we can't make it a little more predictable, and then we can work on calibration.' She set down the last of the materials, turned her attention to the cannon itself...
“...who made this thing?” She was fairly certain, after all, that the Cakes did not have metalworking facilities beneath Sugarcube Corner. There wasn't an actual smithy in town, and the hardware shop couldn't possibly stock the sorts of things necessary to build a cannon. It was always possible that it had been bought from...somewhere. But that just opened up even more confusing questions.
“Hey, Twilight! Twilight! Twilight! Hey! Twi-”
Twilight cleared her throat, turning to the open door. “Yes, Pinkie?”
“Well, you know how your 'kitchen' is really, tiny? And, uh, how Spike can be super-duper clumsy, like, all the time?”
Oh, that just didn't bode well at all.
Twilight sighed, shook her head, and put on a smile. “Right...well, I suppose we'd better handle one thing at a time...”
“Um...so, you figured that out really fast. I mean, I know you're super smart, but still, wow, right? I mean, you were just like, 'Oh, you're adding too much charcoal, you silly filly', and then you were just all scribble-scribble on that chalkboard, and now I know to only use half of what I was using before, no matter how much more awesome it might be, right?”
“Pinkie...”
“And then you just built this cool little harness thingy! I mean, I said it was heavy and all, but you were just like 'Pinkie Pie! It's just a little applied mechanics and some-such', and then woosh, you put the whole thing together! You've totally done this before, right? Am I right? I'm right, aren't I?”
“Pinkie, do you mind...”
“I mean, I know that Applejack is all sorts of great with the building things, y'know, 'cause she does almost all the repairs at Sweet Apple Acres, did you know that? I didn't know that until just a little while ago! I bet she could'a done the same thing, except it's even more impressive because she can't magic it up like you can! No offense, I mean, but it's really cool...”
“Pinkie Pie!”
The bubbly earth pony paused in mid-step, the cannon forcing her to take another couple as it rolled to a stop as well. “What's up, buttercup?”
Twilight blinked, her irritation vanishing in a puff of confusion. 'Which seems to happen quite a lot when Pinkie Pie is involved', a small portion of her mind noted. “Um...we're here?”
And, in fact, they were. It was a fairly average little cottage, set apart from its neighbors by an open door and a trio of balloons tied to the mail-box. Music could already be heard, inside, and there were ponies visible through the windows. Certainly a welcoming party of the Pinkie Pie sort. Except...
“GASP! I'm late for my own party-setup!” Pinkie trotted in place for a moment, nibbled her lip, and finally bolted for the door. “Seeyainabitminglehavefun!”
Twilight shook her head, debating her own technically uninvited attendance...at least, until the flat bang echoed out the door and ponies started cheering. Then, professional curiosity drew her in.
And if she had some punch and a 'Welcome to Ponyville' cupcake while she was there, well, that was just part of being a party guest; proper socialization was important to a healthy lifestyle, after all.
It really wasn't so bad, as far as parties went. Not being the center of attention made it much easier to enjoy the atmosphere, and Lily Blossom was a friendly, if flighty, host. In fact, Twilight found herself rather enjoying the whole thing. Thought there was a question or two...
“Hey, Pinkie?”
“Oh hey Twilight!” Pinkie Pie grinned down at her friend, tapping a hoof on the tabletop before giving another gleeful shimmy. “Sooo~? Great party, right? Totally better than that birthday bash we threw for Mrs. Cake!”
“You set her curtains on fire when you brought the cake in.”
“Well, she wouldn't tell me how old she was, doy. So I had to, y'know...try my best!”
And by Pinkie Pie logic, that meant putting random quantities of different colored candles on the cake in the hopes that one of them would be right. The resulting inferno had been nopony's idea of a good time.
“Yes, sure, the party is...wonderful, Pinkie.” Twilight glanced around. “But, isn't it a welcome party?”
“Yuppers! A totally swinging Ponyville hello!”
A brief nod. “So...where is the guest of honor?”
Pinkie froze for several seconds, then hopped down to the floor. “Lily's cousin?”
“That's what you said, earlier.”
“...fiddlesticks! He pulled a Sparkle!”
Twilight blinked. “A what-now?”
“It may have been his party, but he darn well certainly couldn't leave just because he wanted to!”
“You're not answering my-”
“No time, my Profoundly Purple Party-Partner!” Twilight gagged as Pinkie wrapped a foreleg around her neck, found herself dragged toward the front door. “We must correct this soiree send-up!” And suddenly she was outside again, trying to figure out just which direction was up. “I'll stay here and hold the fort, and you go do your magic thing and track him down!”
The door shut with a dull thunk.
“But...” She sputtered, stared, took to her hooves with more than a little uncertainty. “But what if he's inside!?”
No answer, and the door didn't open.
“...I hadn't finished my second cupcake.”
Twilight gave a deep sigh, turned around. Wondered, for a few seconds, just how Pinkie expected her to track down a complete stranger, even with magic. Then she wondered why she was bothering to question it.
“Alright then...I suppose I've got a little bit of time before I need to go home. It's just a little sleuthing. Obviously a simple feat, given my keen sense of logic and analytical thinking...” She blinked, then snorted, slumping back on her haunches. “And now I'm talking to myself. Wonderful.”
She almost missed the soft snicker from above, looked up just in time to see a flick of gray on the rooftop.
'Of course...Lily's cousin would probably be a pegasus.' She smiled, despite herself. 'And where else would a pegasus go to get away...but up?'
She stood, slowly, swiped her tail back and forth to shake any dust loose.
“Welcome to Ponyville.”
A few seconds passed before a head poked into sight. Just a pair of wide eyes and a rumpled, gray mane.
“Thanks.”
Twilight smiled, and nodded, turning to trot off toward the library.
Maybe she'd finally get that tea she'd been looking forward to.
It wasn't often that you'd find a pair of City Guards stationed outside a hospital room. The oddity of it was obvious to anyone with eyes; the hallway seemed too narrow, doctors and nurses lingered a little longer than usual, when they passed...
Never too long, of course, because the earth pony that stood at attention in front of the door was very big (and so very intimidating as well), and the unicorn sitting at his side would level a dangerous glare at anypony that didn't continue about their business.
Though that was as much a matter of her own poor mood as it was her protectiveness. And, unfortunately for her partner, she wasn't necessarily picky about how she expressed her irritation.
“We're wasting our time, here.”
Ironhoof sighed, because it was the third time she'd said it.
Except this time, instead of just leaving off to continue stewing, Haywire decided to elaborate. “Look, big guy. Featherbrain and his egotistical buddy have been on trying to track that thing for days, and every word is it skirted the bay right into the forest.” She grumbled, reaching up to adjust her helmet. “Either it's lost in the woods or sunk in the swamp. But it's not coming back here.”
“Better safe than sorry.”
She looked at her partner sideways, rolled her eyes. “We should be out finding it, big guy. Not sitting on our flanks while it keeps running.”
He grunted, glanced down. “Doesn't keep you from checking everypony that tries to get in.”
“Hey, I'm sick and tired of explosives getting sneaked past me.” She frowned, shot a quizzical look at the wall across from her. “Snuck?”
“Sneaken?”
An unwilling smile tugged at her lips, and she shook her head. “You're impossible.” The happy expression lasted for almost a full minute, a quiet, companionable silence settling in. But then there was another dark thought, and she scowled down at the floor. Scuffed a hoof on the tile. “...he's gonna be fine, right?”
Iron nodded. “The LT's a tough old nag.”
“Yeah, I know.” She gave the door a sullen look. “But he's still just a pony, y'know? And...I mean, I saw him, when they pulled him out of there.”
Silence.
“And...it's just, that thing? It's not just some...some wild animal. It was...smart. Really smart. I mean, it put together all those explosives with...just...things. Everyday...things.” Her brows drew together. “It put together a shaped charge to protect its door. I've only ever seen those in...in mining, or quarry work...”
“Smart's dangerous.”
Haywire snorted, and looked up again. “Yeah, you'd know all about that, huh?” He shot her the slightest smirk, rolling his shoulders with a soft clatter. “But it's not just smart, big guy. If it was just that, then we could...I dunno, talk to it. Or something. But...did you see the Lieutenant?”
“...evil.”
“Yeah...” She nodded. “Yeah, evil.”
“Need to stop thinking about it.” He shuffled, slightly, then leaned over to nudge her, lightly.
Or...relatively lightly. She wound up falling over in a tangle of limbs and a crash of copper plates. Shot him a glare when she finally scrambled to her hooves again.
“Uh...oops?”
His helmet clanged as she reared up to plant a hoof upside his head. His punishment meted out, she settled back down, the picture of wounded pride. “You're a menace.”
Iron's ears laid back as he sheepishly adjusted the helmet.
The quiet returned.
“I don't like it.”
Brightside looked up from the maps spread out in front of him. “Which part? Because none of it is what I'd call likeable.”
“You know what I mean.” Red Brass nudged a cold mug of coffee across the table. “None of it makes sense. None of it. And that makes even less sense.”
“You're talking in circles, Brass.”
Brass gave him a somber look. “That's what I'm saying.”
That gave Brightside pause. He took another careful look at the maps he'd been examining, then stood away from the table to approach the one that had been hung up. There wasn't any pattern...just one event after another...
“Shuffle a deck of cards. Is it random?”
“What do cards have to do with any of it?”
“It's just a thought.” Brightside shook his head, reached up to pull his helmet off and set it on the table. “But I think it's important...is it random?”
“I don't think so.” Brass looked thoughtful. “There's probably some kind of complicated way to figure out what order the cards are in. As long as you knew what order they were in to begin with.”
“That's what I figured...” A slow nod. “So that's what we're doing...trying to figure out what order the cards were in. If we're working under the assumption that it's not actually random, then there should be a pattern. Somewhere.”
“And we've been giving ourselves headaches trying to figure it out.”
“So far, yes.” Brightside heaved a sigh, settled back on his haunches. “This room is stifling. Remind me to talk to the Captain about redecorating.”
Brass snorted. “We've got some higher priorities here...”
“Yeah, I know...it'd be nice not to be dealing with mind-numbing surroundings while we're trying to solve an impossible puzzle.”
There were several minutes where the only sound was the soft rattle of armor and the crinkle of paper.
Red Brass was the first to speak, yet again.
“Maybe we need a new perspective.” He re-ordered the pile of reports in front of him. “The descriptions, some of the behavior...the thing's probably a carnivore-”
“Fruits and vegetables were stolen along with everything else.” Brightside pulled a nearby page toward himself, took a few moments to glance over it. “But it looks like there was some fish, too. Omnivore?”
“Yeah, well, that means predator behaviors, right?”
A nod. “You're thinking of bringing in a consultant?”
“Remember Grendel?”
“That griffin that helped break the Morning Star case, right?”
“That's the one.” Brass chewed his lip. “We keep in touch. He might be willing to help out.”
Brightside raised a brow. “You keep in touch?”
“What can I say? I have a taste for griffin board games. He's the only decent player I've ever run into.” Brass smirked. “We play sjakk by mail. He's in Manehatten, right now, two days travel, tops.”
“Write him, see if he'll swing by. I'll clear the consultation fee with the Captain...the Lieutenant laid up, he'll sign off on it just for the fresh eyes.”
Brass just nodded, taking up a pencil and spare scrap of paper. Brightside just kept turning the same old ideas over in his head, working in the new whenever he could. Red Brass finished his letter and left long enough to mail it, before returning to the cramped little room.
And Brightside really wasn't sure how he could stand coming back at all. Studying the same things over and over again was like pounding his head against the wall, and he was, frankly, quite sick of...it.
“...like pounding your head against the wall.”
“Huh?”
“It's just like pounding your head against the wall, Brass...we're trying to work backwards. Figure out what the plan might have been, based on what actually happened...”
“Like the cards, yeah, we've been over that.”
Brightside nodded, tapping a hoof lightly on the tabletop. “But we're just thinking in circles, and hitting dead ends...if we're sticking with the card metaphor, then what if we're wrong in assuming that the deck got shuffled?”
That earned him a confused look. “Y'lost me, buddy.”
“I'm saying...what if it looks so random because it really is?” He looked back up at the hanging map, his eyes wide. “What if, instead of shuffling the deck, the thing just threw it in the air and let it scatter?”
“So...so wait, what? That...doesn't make any sense. There'd be no point.”
“Exactly...exactly, exactly.” Brightside's expression twisted with distaste. “If I'm right, then there is no point. None.” He pushed the maps across the table, prodded each one in turn. “Just step, after step, after step...no goals, no pattern or scheme...just...”
“Random.”
“Yeah.”
“...that's not good.”
“I know.”
Brightside shook himself out, took up his helmet again. “I'm going to talk to the Captain.” A moment's pause to settle it on his head. “Round up your squad, see if you can track mine down, and tell them what we've come up with.”
“We got a game-plan?”
A strained, weary laugh. “Oh, I think I've got a plan.”
For a bunch of colorful little ponies, they were persistant.
“And here I was, thinking that this would get...boring.” Thinking...worrying, maybe. Watching them...eheh...chase their tails was just too good. And they did have tails, which made it even better.
The Joker adjusted his tie, picked up his dropped coat, and continued on through the brush.
Wilderness survival had never been a particular skill in his...repertoire, but improvisation was something that he was very good at. And really, how much 'skill' did someone need to know how to ditch a tail? It certainly didn't take any to know that if it bled then he could eat it.
Rabbit, he had decided, really did taste a little like chicken. Charred chicken, with little bits of fur that got caught in your teeth. He hadn't quite managed to skin the damned things with his stolen kitchen knives...and cooking over an open fire was really harder than it should have been. But he'd eaten worse, and the experience was definitely giving him ideas for some new...material.
It wasn't all...ha! 'Fun and games', though...no, those had to wait. For...three? No, four days, at least, he'd been slogging through woods and marshes, certain that he'd been going in circles until he'd finally come across a river.
That was easy enough to follow. And really...getting lost just made It easier to confuse your tail.
Unless they could fly. Which they could. Which meant that they just kept flying overhead, no doubt trying to catch a...a glimpse. Or a slip-up.
“But they won't.” He snickered, pushing through a tangle of thorns. “No they will not...”
They weren't a problem, in the long run. Not one bit. There weren't any problems. Just the next city, and the next gag...
He almost missed the flash of copper, high above, but something made him look up just in time.
Persistant.
Hiding in the shadow of a tree was surprisingly easy. And he stayed there, until the irritating little ponies had moved on. Carried on. Gone away.
“Hmph...” It hadn't been this much effort in Gotham. Nooo...no, there, it had been...simple. Very simple, to...shake things up. Here, though...big cities without a criminal element were normal. There weren't any...corrupt, greedy little snakes just standing around waiting to join the game.
Which made things...less simple.
“Ha! As if there's anything simple about, uh...a world full of color-ful, talking ponies.”
Complaining never helped anyone, though. In fact, it usually got them shot faster. “Heh...” With that...cheery thought, he started moving again. There would be something ahead...and hopefully it would be enough to alleviate his boredom.
Though, now that he considered it...maybe there was a way to do that...and solve a problem or two...
The room went quiet when Brightside trotted in, low murmurs fading into nothing. The majority of Lieutenant Steel's Guards, pulled from their normal patrols and the flagging investigation, and they were all anticipating whatever news would warrant that sort of change.
“Corporal Brass?”
“Everypony's here, but for the fliers. And they should be back in sometime tonight.” Red Brass nodded, waving a hoof at the others. “You gonna share your brilliant plan, now?”
“There isn't much to share...telling you all the plan isn't why you're here.” Brightside reached up to pull his helmet off, set it on the floor beside him as he shook his mane out. “The creature that perpetrated this fiasco is on the run. We don't know where it's going...and after a lot of thought, we can't even be sure it knows, either.”
“The thefts were for food and materials. But it didn't actually do anything with those materials except start fires in random spots all over the city. Kidnapping the Lieutenant...from what we saw, it didn't do anything except hurt him.” Brass shook his head. “It's all over the place, no rhyme or reason.”
“And you think it will stay that way.” Cross Stitch spoke up, looking more thoughtful than usual. “Meaning that it is, and will remain, an unpredictable danger.”
“Exactly.” Brightside gave a somber nod. “And from what we've been able to tell, it ran because we were closing in on it. It overreached in taking the Lieutenant, it must have known that. And it set traps, it hid whenever it could...it couldn't even hold onto a panicked pegasus. A civilian, hurt and half out of his wits.”
Haywire's grin was dangerous. “It's scared of the Guard. Has to be.”
“Not scared.” Ironhoof muttered. “Smart.”
“He's right.” Cross Stitch rubbed at his chin, nodding slowly. “Its intelligence cannot be questioned, at this point...and if it wishes to avoid the Guard, then it will most likely continue to do so.”
“But there are places that don't have a local force.” Brass pointed out, eyes narrowing as he considered Brightside. “The Guards in Manehatten would handle it fine, and if it went anywhere near Canterlot then it would have to contend with the cookie-cutters...”
“The Royal Guards,” Brightside leveled a glare at him for the comment, “would be more than capable of apprehending it. But you do see my point. If it finds its way into some small town somewhere...there won't be nearly as much reason for it not to start attacking more ponies.”
He took a deep breath. “Which is why I intend to follow it.”
It took a few seconds for the bit to drop, but when it did there was a sudden uproar. Uncertainty, fear, anger...only Red Brass stepping in kept Haywire and Cross Stitch from coming to blows. Considering their respective magical talents, it was probably a very good thing he did manage it.
“Quiet!” All eyes turned to Brightside again, and he pawed at the floor with obvious irritation. “I'm taking the both of you,” A pointed look at the unicorns, “and Ironhoof, along with a griffin consultant that should be here in the next couple of days. We're going to track this thing down and bring it in.”
“Yes!” Haywire stood up, squaring off like she was ready to charge off that second. “We'll throw that thing into Tartarus so hard, it won't know which way is up!”
Cross Stitch winced, taking a careful step away from her. “Corporal, you cannot be serious. Jurisdiction alone would be an insurmountable obstacle...”
“The Lieutenant is still unconscious.” Brightside rested a hoof on his helmet, glared down at the ground. “The doctors aren't sure how well he'll recover, even with all the effort they've put into it...jurisdiction is the least of my worries at the moment.”
“He...he's right.” Marigold stepped forward, nibbling her lip. “I mean...what if it does find some place without Guards? And it just...if it does the same thing it did to the Lieutenant, because nopony was there to stop it...”
“Never thought I'd see the day, Brightside.” Red Brass grinned. “You're suggesting going off the books.”
“Not in so many words...I happen to know we've all got vacation time just waiting to be used.”
Cross Stitch didn't look amused. “With all due respect, Corporal...you've read far too many adventure novels.”
“I think it's a great idea.”
“Yes, the self proclaimed 'explosives' expert is agreeing with this plan. That eases my every worry...”
“Y'know, if I didn't know better, I'd say you're scared.”
“I rather enjoy upholding the law, thank you very much.”
“And what part of upholding the law is letting a dangerous creature get away on your watch!?”
Ironhoof stepped between the two before they could continue. “Corporal? Got anything more than 'follow it'?”
Brightside shook his head, smiling vaguely. “Not really, no.”
The big earth pony nodded. “I'm in.”
“So'm I!” Haywire was practically clambering over his back to grin at Brightside. “I'll put in for the time off right now.”
Cross Stitch was quiet, standing impassively even when everypony else had turned to look at him.
“...oh, fine.” He scowled, flicking an ear disdainfully as he turned away from them. “You'd all wind up as broken messes if I wasn't around to patch you up.”
“Gee, Stitchy. Didn't know you cared.”
“Don't you have vacation requests to file?”
“Aww, the poor widdle foal is sulking now...”
Red Brass chuckled, shouldering past Brightside on the way to the door. “Good luck, pal. Something tells me you're gonna need it just to get out've town.”
Brightside groaned, quietly, as the unicorns continued to snipe at each other. Maybe it really was a bad idea...
The door burst open, bowling Red Brass over as an armored pegasus rushed in.
“You know...you would think...that I'd...ugh...learn.”
There wasn't any response, as he slogged his way up to the riverbank, wringing the water from his hair with one hand and trying to keep his coat from getting dragged away by the current with the other.
All he actually managed to do was send himself stumbling face-first into the mud.
After some spluttered cursing and more than a little flailing, he caught hold of solid ground and pulled himself almost completely out of the water. For a few moments he just laid there, splayed out, his head turned to one side so he wouldn't just suffocate in the muck...
“Because that would just be sad.” He grunted, tossing the coat haphazardly toward the treeline before pushing himself up and regaining his feet. “All that...that work? The...mob and the Bat and the...coppers...ha! Done in by mud! What does that say about you, Gotham? Hmm?”
Back to the water, now that he had his balance. The mud was a mess...he dropped to his knees dunked his head a few times and did some scrubbing. All of which took care of the mud. And the makeup. “Hmm...”
That wasn't ideal. No...not ideal. That was something to...fix.
“Heheh...and who's the one with a patron...Dragon? Don't see the Bat with a...a great big dragon of Justice and Order looking out for him...”
Bushes rustled. And that was a strange sound, wasn't it? Bushes. Nature. Very different, when it wasn't on fire.
Oh, and if it wasn't another pony. Not one of the coppers, no, no...too many sequins for a copper. And too much panic, definitely.
He grinned, and clicked his teeth together. “Boo.”
The way its legs locked up before it passed out was so hilarious that he spent...quite a bit of time, laughing. Oh, but then it was time to do something...something different. And, well...a pers-pony out in the woods, that had to mean that there was at least a camp nearby.
“And I guess I am hungry...”
Well then. There was a Plan.
The Great and...
'Oh, ponyfeathers, it's too early for that.'
With a minor effort, Trixie pushed herself upright...and, much to her relief, found that she was not outside on the river's bank. No, she was quite comfortably ensconced in her caravan, just as she must have been since...the evening before. Of course.
And the dream had been exactly that; a dream. A perfectly ordinary, long, exhausting, slightly terrifying...dream. Yes, absolutely nothing more than that. A bad dream, brought about by her foalish decision to go to sleep angry after that disastrous show in that little hayseed town. And, well, perhaps she'd been a bit peeved at her own very slightly flawed decision to follow the rail-line, as it seemed news spread rather faster along those routes, which meant that the simpletons in...oh, whatever it had been called. Something 'clever' involving the town's trade in gems and ore...they had had the utter gall to...
Well...it wasn't important. The only thing that was important was that the dream had been...a dream. Yes.
Trixie nodded decisively, content with that completely logical reassurance. With a casual and practiced flair, she stepped from the little alcove that housed her bed...and paused, as her cape tugged uncomfortably at her neck.
'Trixie doesn't remember wearing her cape to bed...'
It was simply embarrassing to imagine what sort of state of mind she must have been in to do such a...silly...thing...
'Why are Trixie's hooves muddy?'
She didn't have more than a few moments to consider that, because her Caravan shifted, first to one side, then the other. The door opened wide, sunlight pouring in and leaving her blinking away spots...
“Well now...awake already?”
Trixie squinted, cold settling in her stomach as she got a very good look at the hulking...thing that was hunched in her doorway.
“And here I was, worrying I'd have to...”
She didn't hear the rest, being much too busy blacking out for the second time that morning.
The rabbit was better with greens. He wasn't entirely sure what the greens were, but they were...well, green.
And while there was an alarming lack of proper knives in the unicorn's...'kitchen'...he was able to get by with his favorite little switchblade. Switchy-twitchy little knife that had al-ways served him well...
“Ugh...”
Oh, and she was awake! That was good.
“Y'know...” He tore another strip of meat from a...haunches, they were called...with his teeth, chewed thoughtfully as the unicorn pulled herself up. Again. “You know...it really is rude, passing out like that.”
“Wh...what?” Oh, the wide eyes, and the shaking, and none of it was new. At least this time she was staying awake.
“Passing out.” He glowered, gesticulating wildly for a moment with the leg in his hand. “You know I had to carry you aaall the way up from the river? Hmm? And you hit your head, the second time. I was worried you'd die. Then what would I do? Dump you in the river? For the fishes?” An arched brow, and he dropped his plate on the nearby counter with a sharp crack. “Yoouu... are a terrible host.”
She jumped, pressed herself back as far as she could...which wasn't really all that far, considering how cramped it was in the caravan. “You...you what? Host? You...carried...” Her eyes were drawn to his food, and, somehow, she managed to pale. “A-and w-w-what are you eat-t-t....eating?”
“Uh...rabbit.” He gnawed on the bare end of the bone, smacked his lips appreciatively. “Actually, kind've tasty...once you get rid of the fur. of course. And the skin. The, uh...the organs, too.”
“...of course.” Her ears laid back, the fear turning to disgust...then anger? “Of course! It's only Trixie's new luck, after all! Five – five, if you'll believe it – failed shows! In a row! Oh, and it's not enough that they're failures, because suddenly everypony is a comedian, and just mean besides! Being heckled, oh, Trixie can handle, but being laughed off her own stage!?”
He actually rocked back as she got to her hooves and started pacing. “The indignaty of it! I haven't been able to afford my favorite sparkling cider for weeks! I've had to repair my own wagon wheel twice now! And the hauling...Trixie used to be able to hire ponies to pull her home for her! Strapping young stallions, more than willing to assist a showmare of my calliber! Do you know what traveling this way does to a hooficure!?”
“And now!” She whirled on him with a stormy expression, stomping hard enough to rattle the floorboards. “Now Trixie is...is assaulted in her own home by a...a rabbit eating, rumpled...shaved diamond dog!?”
The Joker blinked, twice, sucked his cheek for a moment before waving toward the vanity with the rabbit-leg. “I, uh...also used your stage makeup.”
“And it's using my expensive makeup! Poorly!” She slumped, then, the anger draining out entirely. “And my head hurts, and Celestia I think I'm going to be sick, and it's all the dratted Sparkle's fault. Every last bit of it. Well, I hope she's very happy with herself, ruining a simple showpony like she did.” Her tail flicked, ears drooping as she glared at the floor. “I hope she'll feel awful when she finds out what horrible fate she sent me to...me! The Great and Powerful Trixie! Why, I bet she'll never recover after she hears about Trixie's ignoble demise at the claws of such a terrible and ill-mannered brute...”
“Y'know...you talk a lot.” And what a pretty speech that had been. “Do you always do that? 'Cause if you do...well, I don't think our little partnership is going to work out.”
Heheh...oops. Somebody made a mistake. And the way the gears turned in her head, watching the assumptions twist on themselves, oh...that was icing on the cake. “What?”
“Well...” He grinned, and tossed the half-eaten rabbit back on the plate, wiping his fingers on his slacks. “I happen to be in need of a...well, a place to lie low, as it were.” A vague gesture, a twist of the wrist. “And, uh...well, this? This is just the sort've thing the doctor ordered, hmm?”
Oh, and she wasn't completely stupid. No, no, vain and a blowhard, sure, but there was that suspicion, there was that uncertainty. “And what does this have to do with Trixie's difficulties and impending doom?”
“Hmph...first of all...look, you're a little slow on the uptake? So, uh, I'll put it in layman's terms. I'm not going to kill you.” Maybe. Yet. “Aaand...you were just complaining about the...what was it...” He scowled, snapping his fingers impatiently as if it would spark a memory. “Pulling! That was it, thaaat was...it. Yes. Pulling your eh-hever so lovely home around?”
“Yes...” The unicorn answered slowly, because she was obviously a moron. Or maybe she had hit her head harder than he thought? “Is Trixie to take it, then, that you wish to offer your services as a draft...thing?”
That earned her an irritated huff, another dark chuckle when she jumped at the sound. “Actually, I thought we would, uh...trade off on that bit. Y'see...I'm feeling generous but that sort of thing only goes so far, doesn't it? Hmm?”
“So you wish to hide in Trixie's home and occasionally assist her.” Well, that didn't seem to impress...no, not at all. “Does Trixie truly have a choice?”
“Oh, there's always a choice...where would the fun be if there wasn't, hmm? Nowhere, that's where...” He pulled an exaggeratedly thoughtful frown, tapping his chin. “Buuut...I think I could make myself useful. After all, ehehha...what sort of guest would I be if I didn't help out?”
“Rather...rude, I would think...”
“Perfect!” He grinned, reached out to grab her hoof and shake it vigorously. Her indignant yelp and panicked flailing went entirely ignored. So did the crash and clatter as she pulled free, only to tumble backwards into a cabinet. “Tell you what...I'll even chip in on your next show. I'm something of a performer myself...y'know...”
“Wha-”
“For nowww, though...for now...” He looked thoughtful, again, standing (carefully, there were pots and pans everywhere, sloppy, sloppy...) and making his way to the door. “I need a couple things that I left behind. Back in a few! Partner!”
That expression...that 'deal with the devil' expression...well, that just kept him feeling all warm and fuzzy all the way to the bank.
River bank.
“Ha!”
The Great and Powerful Trixie was most certainly not crying.
No, that wasn't it at all. It was the tomato juice that had gotten in her eyes, and left them stinging since before she'd even packed up. Combined with the hot, dry weather (surely the work of some lazy pegasus), it had her eyes watering terribly.
Yes, that was it.
She would have stopped to take care of it, except she wanted nothing more than to put Dodge Junction as far behind her as possible, as quickly as possible, and until that was done, well, she could suffer with dignity.
“Well don't you look a little...worse for wear.”
She skidded to a halt...not because she had been moving particularly fast to begin with, but because her caravan wound up rolling for several feet despite her best efforts. The clumsy move left her feeling even more annoyed, and she flushed with embarrasment and anger as she faced the...the...
“You.” The big brute had the gall to look confused, pointing at itself as if there could be any doubt who...or what...she was talking to. “Where were you!? Two days of putting up with your company, and the moment we get into town, you...you told Trixie that you would help with the show!”
“I'm, ah...certain I said 'might'. 'Might' help.” It winced, but it was such an exaggerated, insincere expression that she was certain anypony would see through it. Let alone a fam...skilled, a skilled showmare such as herself. “It didn't go well?”
“No.” She seethed, trodding angrily at the ground. “It did not 'go well'. They threw fruit at me. Ponies do not throw fruit at actual shows! Plants in the audience of a satire do that! That is not acceptable behavior in any real setting!”
“Must've been a...aha...a pretty bad act.”
He was...he was laughing at her!? And insulting her act!?
“It would have been better...” She hissed, practically shaking, “if some poorly dressed clown hadn't stolen all of my fireworks!”
“...well, I did do that...”
“Why...where are they?”
“Mmmm...a few places, ack-shu-ally.” He grinned (that ugly, frightening grin), before gesturing toward the back of the Caravan. “C'mere.”
“Where do you think...” He was already out of eye-shot, and she gaped at the...the audacity.
But then she shrugged herself free of the yoke, and trotted after him.
The sun had been starting to set, and so the horizon in the direction of Dodge was already growing dark. She could still see the dark shape of the town...stupid, backwater little place that it was.
“I got to thinking...” She looked back at the stupid thing, as it started rolling up its sleeves. “With all your, uh...'complaining'...about that student of the...heheh, the Big 'C'...”
“What about it?”
She flinched at the glare it shot her, but felt even more uneasy when it smiled again. “Well...I realized that she sounds like a gen-u-ine hero!”
If Trixie had been walking, she would have tripped over her own hooves. “You...that...that purple upstart isn't a hero! She's...she's just a...an annoying librarian with friends in h-high places!” Her eyes were stinging again. “And Trixie has decided that she hates tomatoes!”
“Well that's the most reasonable thing you've said all day.” She glared, but he just kept smiling. “I know a thing or two about...about heroes, y'see...and the thing about heroes, the thing that I think you should know...is that they're hypocrites.”
“...what?”
He sighed, and rubbed at his arms, and did that creepy thing where he sucked on his cheeks and made that smacking sound. “They don't do what they do because...because they actually care. Oh, that's what they tell themselves, sure...but really, they just do it because they like it. They get to point, and smile, and say 'look at what I did oh isn't that great'.”
Trixie frowned, because that sounded quite a bit like what she did. Or had done. “Actual heroes help ponies...”
“Ha!” She flinched, again, at the sharp sound. “Heroes love helping people! Helping people is the only thing that gives them purpose and meaning.” Her ears laid back as he shot her another grin. “But, uh...y'see, here's the thing...'cause you can't help someone unless they need help...see? Heroes...they need to save pe-ponies” He clicked his teeth. “Ponies...and that means that they need them to be in danger.”
He laughed, and the sound sent shivers down her spine, and it only got worse as he continued in that wheedling, sing-song voice that was starting to grate on her nerves. “Deeeeep down, every hero wants others to be in danger. To be dangerous.” His eyes flashed. “That's where we come in.”
It took her a second to find her voice, and she was appalled when it squeaked. “'We'?”
“Well, you're certainly not friends with that 'purple librarian'.” He shrugged, made another, sweeping gesture. “Sooo...you are her enemy.” He nodded, decisively. “And what's a hero...without a villain?”
Trixie realized (and she was kicking herself for not coming to the realization earlier), that this 'Joker' was completely and utterly insane.
“And really, what good are you without her?” He continued, and she bristled at the speculative look. “I mean, uh...look at yourself...sad little pony with a cheap act...d'ya wanna know what I think?”
“I don't.”
“Hrrm.” He pouted, but there was a glint in his eyes...cruel. That was it. That was the thing that she'd been missing the whole time. Everything he did was mocking and cruel, and she hated it being directed at her...
“I think...that you need to face the facts.” He spread his arms wide, as if reaching out to grab hold of the horizon. “And I think you know...” A pause, and he shook his head, dropped his arms. “Look, yooouu...you're just turning in circles...like a rat in a maze. Sooo...break out. Live a little! And if you happen to get back at the pony that ruined your show...well...”
It was quiet, for a long moment.
“None of that explained where my fireworks went.”
His 'confusion' was annoying, and no doubt he found it amusing. But then he snapped his fingers, and smiled, and pulled something from his vest pocket, bouncing it off his palm...
“Is that my remote lighter?”
“I would've called it a detonator.” He grumbled, flipping it over twice more before holding it out. “A little...consolation, for your latest...bad day...uhp!” He snatched it back with a frown, when she tried to take it with her telekinesis, and she huffed in annoyance. “And...a little taste of revenge. I think you might just like it.”
He held it out again, and this time let her take it.
It was a simple little thing, just plastic and wire and a tiny crystal at the end of a rod. A single button. She used it all the time, when she had to get the timing on her pyrotechnics just right. And...she had a sneaking suspicion of what it would do.
She thought of the boring little ponies. The ones who lived in that boring little town in the middle of nowhere, who did nothing but get dusty and sweaty and live their boring little lives. She thought of how she had tried to entertain, to brighten up the dull humdrum, going out of her way to...to make their lives just a little bit brighter with her presence.
And she thought of that blasted, spoiled tomato in her mane, and the juice that was making her eyes water again.
The button clicked down.
“Hey, Brightside...”
“Hmm...mmmggnn...”
“Hee~eey...you hearin' me, sleepy-head?”
“Hrrrmzzzz...”
“Well then...WAKE UP!”
“Grk-”
Brightside hit the floor in an undignified sprawl, and he was left blinking in confusion at the cackling mare in the aisle. “...Haywire?”
“Well hey there, Mr. Snoozles.” She leaned down to look him in the eye, tilting her head back and forth. “Have a nice nap?”
“It was restful.” He grunted, regaining his hooves with as much grace as he could muster...the others were looking everywhere but at him, so he was certain that each of them had seen the whole thing. “Emphasis on...was.” It was harder than he would have liked to glare at the smiling unicorn, but he managed, all the same. “Do I need to remind you...”
“That you're my boss? Nope.” She turned, flicking her tail as she trotted back to her seat, on the other end of the empty car. “Because you're not my boss right now, are you?”
He opened his mouth to respond to that, but Cross Stitch cleared his throat and drew his attention. The medic looked more stoic than usual, obviously to avoid showing his own amusement...if he was going to be perfectly honest with himself, Brightside had to admit that it had been funny. But it really wasn't the time...
“We're ten minutes from Dodge Junction, sir.” A folded map was passed his way, wrapped in mint-green light. “Ironhoof had a talk with the conductor, and we were referred to an inn, which should prove sufficient for our needs during our stay.”
That was good to know. Brightside nodded, once, as he took the map, unfolding it carefully on his seat. “You've made some changes to our route?”
“Options, more than anything else. Since our previous assumptions were based on its need to maintain a 'low profile', I added likely paths in the case that it acquires another cart or wagon.”
“'Fool me once', huh?” Another nod. “Smart. We'll check with the Sheriff, make sure to keep a lookout for anything that turns up missing...Ironhoof, you spoke to the conductor?”
“Uh, yeah boss?” The big earth pony straightened in his seat. “Wanted to know a little more about the Junction, and I figured he'd know.”
“And you got some good information.” Brightside turned to glance out the window, scanning the barren terrain as it passed by outside. “But was there any word of something strange along the line, the past few days? This thing likes to make a mess, and a train wouldn't be too hard to sabotage if you knew what you were doing...”
“...you think this thing does?”
“Are we really going to risk assuming it doesn't?” He perked up, slightly, at Haywire's tone. A quick glance her way showed that, no, she wasn't happy anymore. “Now I'm worried about that. What's the word, big guy?”
“He didn't say anything about weird stuff...” Ironhoof frowned, stood up and edged into the aisle. “But I didn't ask...I'll go do that now.”
Brightside watched him go, climbed back into his seat to continue going over the map. There wasn't much in the way of conversation, and the persistent clatter of the rails was welcome to prevent an awkward silence...
The rattle of the door opening – the door that led toward the rear of the train – drew him from his thoughts, and he turned his attention to it.
“Ha! At last, I have found you.” The griffin squeezed his way through the narrow door, spreading his wings for a moment as he entered the car. “And only on the third car I have checked. That is good!”
“What.”
Brightside glanced Haywire's way as he slid off his seat again, taking some vindictive pleasure at her confusion. “Grendel. I certainly wasn't expecting you to arrive so quickly.”
“Bah. I bet Brass pony three bits that I couldt catch this train before it reaches the junction. And I never lose a bet to that one, or he will never let me forget it.”
“He can be like that.” He smiled, as he moved down the aisle, reaching out to offer a hoof once he'd closed the distance. “How are you doing, Grendel? You look a little...ruffled.”
And he did, his dark jacket slightly askew, fur and feathers sticking up at odd angles. The griffin, for his part, looked embarrassed, sweeping a paw over his chest to pluck one that was particularly bad before taking the proffered hoof in his claws and giving it a shake. “Eh...I may have misjudged the speed of the train, Corporal. It was small crash. Nothing to be concerned for, yes?”
“'Any crash you can walk away from' is how my flight specialists tend to put it.” Brightside held his smile for another few seconds, then sighed and gestured toward one of the empty seats. “Thank you, though, for coming to help us with this. We're not too far from our stop, and the brief can wait until we've settled in for the night.”
“Ah, yes, your work. Of course, Corporal, I understand.” Grendel clicked his beak, slipping past him to examine the bench seat. “This is sad, though. I wouldt like to join the festivities, yes?”
“Festivities?” Brightside frowned, looking to Cross Stitch...the unicorn shook his head, just as confused. “What 'festivities'?”
“Tch. You ponies, you have so many celebration days, I cannot keep track of them. But it looks to be a big thing, yes? The fireworks were very, ah...pretty!”
“Sounds like a blast.” Haywire deadpanned. “We could be lucky, right? They're just having a big party, everyone's having a good time. I mean, what are the chances that-”
The train lurched, and Brightside barely kept his balance, scrambling as he skidded forward. Grendel caught him before he could slam his head into the floor, sharp claws digging into the cheap carpet for traction. The screech of the brakes was far louder than it should have been...
“Oh come on!”
“Not an emergency stop.” Cross Stitch spoke up, voice raised to be heard over the noise. “But certainly urgent.”
Brightside just nodded, giving Grendel a tight, grateful smile as he braced himself more carefully. The train stilled, not long after, and the silence was heavy enough that he almost had to cringe.
The heavy hoof-steps could be heard two cars down, and Brightside steeled himself as they all waited for news...
Ironhoof shouldered his way in, finally, and nothing about his expression was comforting. “Um, boss? I think we need to get our things together. I'm pretty sure it's been here.”
“Well don't keep us in suspense, big guy.” Haywire snapped, pulling her window open with a flicker of magic in order to stick her head out. “What's going on?”
“The, uh...the train station's on fire.”
In another life, if he were a different pony, Brightside might have just gone back to sleep and given it all up as a bad job.
As it stood, it looked like they weren't going to have the rest time that they'd hoped for.
“You heard him, everypony. Get your gear and offload.” He looked up at the griffin in front of him. “Grendel? Looks like I'll be explaining on the move.”
“It is no trouble, Corporal.” The mirth was gone, replaced by a professionalism that he definitely appreciated. “Lead the way.”
Yep...wonderful way to spend those vacation days...
