Part time Angel
Acts of Mercy
The news of Wave Chill’s abduction and Soarin being under a rockslide had made its way quickly around the compound. Bad news tends to do that. As I finished my third round of practice that day, I wanted to get my mind off of them and knew there was presently only one fast way to do that. So after clearing it with Spitfire, in the nick of time before her meeting no less, I made my with a food cart with full water bottles and oatmeal to the secured room, or as some of the medics had put “The Intrusive Crystal Unit”. There I gave the guards the papers from Spitfire and they let me in. I had thought to bring ear plugs here but decided against that. After the guard opens the door, the wretched moans hit me. The medics had done good work in easing their pain, but they could do only so much with so little. Beside that with limited power only one of every five of the overhead fluorescent lights were on. It gave the room enough light where it was needed but created some dancing shadows. I could also feel a faint rumble of work being directed by Rivet from beneath the floor.
There were nine in total, four I hardly knew, two that I had the odd mission with and three I knew well. Or at least I had known them well. With their crystal scabs causing them pain that I didn't want to imagine they barely acknowledged me as I worked to spoon feed and hydrate them. They had them head first beside the longer wall where most of the few overhead lights that were on were. I guess they did this to help people see the patients better. Aside from that there were faint cracks in the ceiling, but they looked to be from aged paint. It seems this room was part of the compounds original design and thus unaffected by the emerging propeller shafts.
With the ones I barely knew being the more stricken but emotionally easier to tend to I recognized them as Zippo, a gray stallion with a penchant for fire, I had heard rumors around the compound that he was the one who burned down the Royal Treasure a few years ago . Next was Rufio, a charcoal black stallion with a red highlighted mohawk who was good at hiding knives in his wings. In the Shadowbolts he came a far second to Blade in terms of skill in edged weapons.After him was Ipecac, a lavender mare with a aqua mane whom was a medic and infiltrator and oddly enough her husband Venom, a juniper green jack of all trades but was a master of poison, I was told with these two that it was hate at first sight, then enemies with benefits and later tied the knot. What these four did with the wretched crystals I'll never know.
Heavier for my heart but physically easier were the two mares I had a few missions with. One was Raptor, a beige mare with a chocolate mane whom I had done a number of abduction missions with and a rather rabid Daring Do fan, always spouting that A.K Yearling, the author of the series was Daring Do and that she’d marry her someday. The other was Relic with a deep purple coat, a black mane and violet eyes , whom likened herself to a catfish burglar, whatever that means. It was a lot of high end art heists with her, and why she insisted on using ropes and wires confounds me to this day.
Raptor was the first to acknowledge me.
“Hello Double Dee,” coughs Raptor as she gives me a pained smile.”You’re a sight for sore eyes”.
“Could never get used to that, but least that was better than Deedee, buckinging hated that,” I give a chuckle. She smiles again and I bring a water bottle to her mouth.“So are the drugs or whatever they're giving you working or..” I ask hesitantly, afraid of the answer.
I pause so she can swallow the water. She closes her eyes for a moment before looking at me again “Barely, honestly it's at the point where it feels like coals are all over your skin but it hurts worse to scream,”. she replies, as I find myself tearing up. “They told me what happened to Witch and Trance, seems like a mercy compared to this.” she gives a weak nod toward everyone.
“Mercy, Cruelty, despair, happiness, Shadowbolts, Wonderbolts, sometimes it seems like the colors and sides don't exist,” I observe dejectedly, hanging my head as I fiddle with the oatmeal.
“I never...took you...for a Nihilist.” She pauses as I feed her oatmeal and swallows, I suspect that simple action also causes pain.
“I don't care for it, but the weight of everything grinds the mind,” I tell her.
“Thank you Double Dee,” she tells me. I then wipe her mouth with a paper tower from the cart.
“Get some rest if you can Raptor,” I sigh, getting to my hooves.
She nods once shutting her eyes as she turns her head to the side a bit. ‘Going good so far Death Drop’ I think to myself as I stretch my neck a bit. I take not of the ceiling
Relic was in and out of it the majority of the time I tended to her; she had the misfortune of a grouping of crystals covering her eyes, making an eye mask. It seemed that, with the sight of pink crystal and normal dreams, she was distrustful of reality at this point and spouted out disconcerting things like “I'm too pure” and “daddy can you pull my mane the way I like it”. There went my plans for the evening. The lights flicker for a moment before I tuck Relic in and calm her by stroking her face with the tip of my wing. It works and she seems to go back into the realm of dreams again.
The first one of the hard ones was Bom Bom, a mustard stallion with a black mane that only ever said “Bom Bom”. It would take time around him to get the inflections in his voice and tone to get an idea what he was talking about. His skills were in his strength and hand to hand combat He had the largest formations of crystals out of everyone but he was lucky they didn't hinder too much movement yet. He had saw me talking to Raptor earlier and had been watching me since.
I had picked up the water bottle when he then shook his head slightly “Bom Bom” I put the bottle down and got the oatmeal for him “Bom Bom” he said in gratitude.
“ You're welcome, honestly with what has happened in the last few hours I need a distraction from that, and frankly y'all can use all the kindness you can get.That and I missed y’all. Not the kind of reunion I had in mind though.”
He gives a small be frank nod and is mostly quiet as I feed him. Then I see a look in his eye, one I've seen too many times before. “Bom Bom” he asks.
I take a breath before answering him. “No Bom Bom I don't know where Marbles is ok, she's still in witness protection, so even as a Wonderbolt my influence to use to find her is negligible,” I tell him.
”Bom Bom” he asks inquisitively.
“Bom Bom I can't even get enough signatures for a petition to keep cinnamon in the rice pudding here, and with those disguise spells I doubt I could find her the old fashioned way.” I tell him ‘Celestia knows those pencil pushers there are more paranoid then the ponies they hide’. It was a bit crushing to see this mound of a stallion in pain unable to have his love by his side.
He tears up for a moment “Bom Bom”. His voice rang with longing and his eyes spoke of despair.
I sigh. “ Look Bom Bom, she wasn't cut for life in an airship, just be happy the two of you may have a love child, because Celestia knows we all know about that night.”
He chuckles a bit. “ Bom Bom” he motions toward the water.
“ Alright then buddy” and proceed to help him drink. Like with Raptor it seemed that Bom Bom also had trouble with swallowing. I’m hopeful that feeding tubes won’t become necessary for everyone here and we can treat them properly.
After Bom Bom was a stallion who was one I did not think would be one to infiltrate and wreck stuff, Cinqasept, often went by Cinq. A stallion cream with a tint of red for his coat and a mulberry man most of his duties in the organization was of handling the go betweens but when it was called for or as he put it “ 'is calling” let's just say if some mares and sometimes stallions where flies to catch he was the honeypot. Director of the Maris School of Scoundrels he likened himself as.
Some might think of it as just desserts or karma but regardless Cinq had a few crystal formations in a peculiar place. With presently no cure in sight someone had the foresight to hook up a catheter to Cinq, which I might imagine he has strong feelings about. “ Cinqasept” I call to him.
He seemed to have been sleeping as he jolts a bit but calms when seeing me “ Ah mon ami, trop longtemps, il a ete”.
I smile “Rapplez-vous mon francais est mauvais ami. Je prefere si vous parliez anglais” I tell him. “Fine my friend, what brings you to this hall of pink misery” he asks me.
“ I need my thoughts far away from something so I'm here, tending to everyone, lucky for me the medics clean y'all so I don't need to deal with that unpleasantness” I said to him.
He has a smile on his face “ oh sentir le contact d'une infirmiere de la femme, mon coeur souffre pour elle”.
I face hoof a bit “ yeah like that's the only part of you that aches.” He attempts to move but the pain halts him. After he settles back in I give him some water “ Mon Ami” he starts after “ the crystals, mon tour de triomphe, they won’t tell me, est-il mal?” he asks me.
Taking a few seconds to serious look at the crystal formation in question I turn back to him “If things get much worse you may have to think yourself a mare”.
He has a comic but still pained look of despair on his face “ Ma déesse , comment vais-je capter son regard et le coeur maintenant , la plus belle jument dans le monde , le madame de le lune”. He throws his arm over his eyes for effect.
“ Honestly I don't know if Princess Luna would want you, as you are among the opposing forces, among other things” I tell him.
“Oh le coeur de la lune est si proche et pourtant si loin je pleure d'amour qui ne sera jamais “ Cinq laments.
“ Yeah buddy it's a tragedy to be told through the ages, Later Cinq”. He responds “ Au revoir chute de la mort”.
Finally, we have him. A brown stallion with a goldenrod mane. On more than one occasion they were partners in missions and had both gotten each other out of jams. His name, La Pesado, was sometimes all anyone could get on him in terms of info, but while working with him Death Drop had learned much about him, that he was older then Descent and had a long career in the Shadowbolts, perhaps the longest of any of the current force, crystal or renegade. When Death Drop met Rivet the first time his mind went to La Pesado, as if Rivet was a thesis then La Pesado was the antithesis to him. While he was a good mechanic and often fiddle around on the ship, La Pesado was the Shadowbolts saboteur extraordinaire. He could render nearly anything unusable in a few moments, if you gave him a few minutes there would be nothing to salvage.
Here with large crystals on a few of his joints and numerous small ones scatter about like pox he seemed to me much like a sullied statue brought down after a coup.
Prepping the last of the oatmeal and water I nudged La Pesado “ Hello buddy” I start the conversation.
Waking slowly and seeing me he responds “ Hola pendejo” he looks at the food and drink “aquellos para mi” he asks.
“Yes, do you want any help eating”. I ask him
“No pendejo, pero no puedo harcerlo por mi cuenta”. He looks at me crossly as I help lift his head up; even this action produces wretched pain for him.
“Do you want the oatmeal or the water first” I ask him.
He grunts as he moves his neck, which has a peculiar crystal situated on his neck but behind his jaw on the left side “ La harina de avena por favor”. So I begin to feed La Pesado as I have the others. While the others have had intense pain from the withdrawal and the crystal formations La Pesados also had crystals digging into his skin as he was moving his mouth to swallow as evident by some scabs along his jaw. He looks me in the eye and tells me “ No te estoy diciendo como destruir la fortaleza porque has de comer y me regado pendejo ” He tells me as after the finishes the oatmeal and water.
“We’re trying to help La Pesado, everyone” I tell him.
He narrows his gaze at me “¿Se puede incluso ayudar a ti mismo”.
I hang my head in frustration for a moment “ I don’t know, it was good seeing you again pendejo”. He laughs a bit then I help him lower his head and leave with the cart out the door.
“So how did feeding the prisoners go” Someone asks me, not sure who. “I wouldn't call them prisoners, at one point all of them were comrades but even with the current happenings I don't know if I can call them enemies” I answer. I turn my head to see who it was and find the hallway to be empty, just me and my thoughts ' was that Discord' I thought to myself.