Deus Ex: Cosplay Revolution

I knew what had to be done.

I watched, waited as the horse-person thing turned, looked for me. When she had her tail turned, I slowly rose out of the bush, drew the baton, and leaned forward.

The attack was silent, stealthy. Like I had a skill ranking of Master in Low-Tech weapons, the piece of thick plastic swung through the air, expanded, hit the blue-skinned alien babe right across the back of the neck. She dropped, damn near instan, hit the ground with a thumpt. Almost thought I saw a little indication of "Unconscious (Alien Villager)" appear when I looked at her, but it must've been my overreacting mind.

Holy shit I'd just cold-cocked someone with a baton. HOLY SHIT I just cold-cocked someone with a fake baton.

Wait... had someone swapped my baton with an actual baton? Looked nigh-identical, right down to coloration, as the one from Deus Ex, but ... odd, how'd I not notice? Felt weightier, more... meaty, than before. Fuck, if she had brain damage, I'd be going straight to the police!

Oh fuck. Shit, gotta hide the body, gotta hide the body, gotta hide the body before someone finds out.

Real quick, I jumped out of the bush, tucked an arm underneath the alien villager or whatever the chick's name was, and looked around. Fuck, I was fucked! I had no idea where this chick live- wait, do they have wallets?

Almost as quick, but careful to avoid hitting her head, I set her down against the stone wall and rummaged through her bag. All I found was makeup and a bag of little golden coins with horseshoes on them. I took a couple of the coins, slipped them into a pocket, and checked the case with the instrument.

Odd, she played a lyre. Whatever. Didn't they have addresses you could mail for the artists to pick up if lost? Fuck, gotta check, gotta check-

And JACKPOT! There was a little tag underneath the shiny wood on the string instrument. I pulled it out and looked at it, managed to make out "Ponyville" but that was it. Musta been the name of the town, something like that.

She shifted, completely of her own accord, let out a groan. I jumped. Shit, she was waking up!

Quick as lightning, I put the lyre back in the case, closed it, left the tag in her bag, and got out of dodge faster than a solo on a Dragonforce song. Half a second later I was scrambling over a dumpster and hoping to god I was quiet enough.

"Owwwww..." she groaned. "Musta tripped..."

i listened. She got up, hoof-feet things crunching the gravel. Started walking away from me, by the sound of her steps.

A minute later I stood up and looked at the time.

Nightfall it was, then.

A brilliant idea shot into my brain barely thirty second later.

Small towns like this, bound to be a tailor. Bound that tailor's gonna have material, and with material I can fashion myself a mask. I wear a mask, they'll think I'm one of their own, think I'm one of their own but trying to hide my face. That logic, I'd only get stared at instead of mobbed and eaten if these horse-people didn't like members of homo sapiens.

Might be risky, but it was something I was going to try.

I stacked a couple trash cans up to the dumpster, pushed one up so it got right to the edge of the gutter of the building near me. With a minimum of noise, I clambered up, grabbed the gutter, and pulled my heavy ass onto the thatched roof.

With this position, I'd be able to see a lot better. Be more visible if I stood up, though, so there was that. I crawled towards the highest point on the roof, peeked my head out over the edge, looked around.

Lots of ugly buildings, more than I could care to count. Some looked businesslike. One had sofas in windows out front, another had... books, I think. Another was a fucking gingerbread house. Guess that was a diabetes dispensary. Most of the other houses were similar to the one I was hanging off of, thatched roofs with timber and overhanging second floors.

I scanned around. Gaze landed on something that looked like a carousel. Could remember Waldo watching one of the episodes, swore the one that sounded like a shallow white girl said something about the "carousel boutique" and chique or whatever that particular style of shit was. She did clothes, right? Was a seamstress, I believe.

Looked like I'd found my target. Couldn't get there until nightfall, though, not with those flyers up in the clouds.

My stomach rumbled but I wasn't in the mood for apples. Been a while since I had a good cookie, maybe that gingerbread house had some...

Goal in mind, I slid off, landed on top of the dumpster, and started walking away from where I encountered the alien babe. Might be able to get there before closing, if my estimation of the time was right. Looked to be about five o'clock, but it was barely starting to get dark.

Until I got that mask, I'd keep the collar of my trench coat up, my sunglasses over my eyes, and my hands in my pockets.

Managed to get to the back door of the bakery without anyone taking notice of me. In good time, too, under thirty minutes. Sense of navigation was good, for a cityslicker like me, but it was a bit difficult to get through the narrow alleys with barely any knowledge of the town. Think about two of the natives saw me, both of them children, but an over-the-shoulder look got 'em running.

Very slowly, I walked to the front. Not a lot of the natives were out, seemed like. Got a look at the sign, saw that the shop closed at half after seven. Last I checked it was five-thirty, so I opened the front door.

Winced when I heard the bell toll, but I tried not to make it too noticeable. Not another soul was in the bakery, almost seemed creepy. Flick the light switch in an ominous pattern, you'd have a child's horror story.

I stopped at the clear glass counter, looked at the pastries and cakes underneath. Nothing I could carry easily, and I'm guessing the dozen or so coins I skimmed off the chick's coinpurse wouldn't get me anything more than a slice.

Snatched a menu, popped it open. Looked like I'd get a dozen or so very chocolate chip and nothing else cookies for six or so "bits". I fished half the number out, placed them on the counter. Then I raised the low bar keeping me from getting to the food, opened up the cabinet, and snatched six of them. Dropped them into a ziploc bag I kept in my pocket for situations involving food.

Then I walked back out, cookies in pocket, and made my way back outside of town.

Needed to plan the pseudo-burglary of a boutique.