Aw, I'm a furniture wizard? (Prologue)
I'm betting that if you're reading this, you were either once, or still are, a lot like me. Imagination working overtime, infatuated with a charming little cartoon about miniature horses learning life lessons and being adorable, scouring the internet for any piece of prose and artwork you can find, made by like minded fans that you could relate with. Sounds familiar enough to you? I thought as much.
And if that was the case, I'm sure you were a fan like me who used to dream and fantasize, to escape the mundane workings of day to day, whether your reality was going to a school where you couldn't be open about your interests lest you be bullied and attacked by the ignorant or if you were older and worked a 9-5 job that you regretted obtaining, but couldn't quit because it was all you had, that ate away at your very soul and made you long for something interesting, something better. Something impossible and fantastic. It doesn't matter what your background or history was, no matter how different your upbringing was from mine or vice-versa, I'm willing to bet that, still assuming you're like me, when you gave that certain cartoon a chance, it did something to you. It made your heart heal, little by little, and you would get lost in the fandom to escape the pains and doubts of the real world. That something happened at some point in your life that almost ruined you for good, almost made you question why you were alive at all, and whether you'd admit it or not, you were saved by the innocence and happiness of this cartoon and it's characters.
Am I making ground here? Yes? Than I'll continue, don't mind me. Hope you're warm and comfy, need to get a snack or a drink? I can wait, I got time. You back? Great, now where was I? Ah yes, I remember...
Now keep in mind the crazy and perhaps audacious notion that you, my dear fellow and/or madam, are anything like me, then you fell in love with those pastel ponies and needed a creative outlet to handle all the love you were feeling in your little heart of hearts. And you sucked major donkey anus on a humid day in Summer when it came to your drawing skills, so you resorted to reading and writing fan-fictions. Don't give me that look, I've already prefixed this paragraph with the understanding that we're assuming you're like me, so that painfully poetic, if inappropriately improper, piece of prose is an accurate description of your artistic abilities, so back off! So, as I was saying, you would write up all kinds of scenarios for the canon characters to find themselves in, and you'd find a joy inside yourself you haven't felt in quite some time by writing such works of fiction, and you'd feel happy when others read your work and enjoyed it as well! Your heart would soar at the praise you'd receive for every single of Sparity story you'd perpetuate, every alternate universe where things were perhaps a little more realistic and dark, or maybe you created a masterpiece about the political and social messages masterfully hidden in certain moments in the show and give pause to many fans who only thought about the issue because of you.
Or perhaps, you found yourself fascinated by the genre of "Humans in Equestria". Whether it was a certain non-brony who you rooted for whilst reading his fictional struggles, or a certain "overlord of awesomeness" that made you laugh, or perhaps you gave in to your antagonistic side ever so slightly and found yourself living vicariously through villainous little shits laying waste to the gorgeous lands you've come to love? Whatever the reason, like me you found your imagination exploding with the idea of humans interacting with your favorite characters. After all, it is perhaps the biggest personal fantasy of any brony worth their salt! Just imagine, holding a conversation with Twilight, or doing something fun and athletic with Rainbow Dash, or perhaps helping out on the farm with Applejack? Getting a little bit silly with Pinkie Pie, and then getting a little bit refined with Rarity, followed by a quiet day among the animals with Fluttershy? ANYBRONY would jump at such a chance, and I think that perhaps that is exactly the point of these fics. Wish fulfillment.
So imagine if you got that chance... The chance to enter the world you've always dreamed of entering, the chance to finally meet all the ponies who you've so desperately dreamed of meeting, and having the fun and adventures shared as only the best of friends can within the land of Equestria? Sounds magical, right?
And what if you got screwed over in your wish, and ending up in some alternate reality version of the 'Power Ponies' comic Spike was reading, only you aren't yourself, you're a pathetic excuse for a bumbling villain and everyone in that world goes out of their way to make your life a living TARTARUS simply because the character you now find yourself existing as is such a laughable loser that the superheroes of the city talk to you like a harmless, yet precocious child instead of a possible threat? (I still can't believe that one time I tried to rob a store, Radiance somehow ended up roping me into carrying her bags as she went shopping on her day off!)
You'd probably feel like crying at your helplessness and frustration at how unfair life is, huh?
Yeah, that sounds about right...
"Hey, Beez! You doing okay over there?' a concerned voice whispering to me brought me out of my internal monologue.
"Huh?" I blinked twice, and glanced to the side. It was well after midnight and the air was cold and clammy as we crouched low on top of our vantage point down by the docks. To the left of my position were three others, two stallions dressed in matching stylish clothing and who looked completely identical, from their style of mane and it's green color, down to their irises and their off-white coats and a slender figure completely shadowed by a dark purple, hooded cloak. There was nothing visible but beady yellow dots of where the figure's eyes should be.
"You zoned out for a moment. We can't have you doing that right now. You need to stay focused, you understand me?" the shadowy figure's yellow eyes narrowed as the once concerned whisper took a stern and warning tone. "This is a stakeout and I need everyone to be alert and to pay attention, are we clear?"
"Crystal, Shadowmane.' I frowned and re-positioned my grip on my carved driftwood staff. I tried my best to look certain and sure of myself, but I doubt I kept the mysterious mare from detecting a bit of nervous tension in my shoulders. "You don't have to worry about me..."
Shadowmane scrutinized me with her piercing gaze for a moment in silence, the rooftop winds tussling the edges of her cape and giving me slight flashes of the well toned, lithe, feminine body beneath the cape.
"See that I don't." she turned her head forward again, her tone clipped and harsh. Maybe she noticed how my eyes had unconsciously strayed to other things and got offended by them, despite how helplessly male the poor orbs were? Regardless, I swallowed a lump in my throat at the thought of her being angry with me. " If you slow us down in this endeavor, I don't care how interested in you Mane-iac is, I will put you down."
I flinched as she looked back in my direction, her yellow eyes seemed to glow with a slow-burning intensity as the reality of what she said, and how she meant it, came down upon my poor little shoulders.
"Hard." her eyes narrowed, before she turned back to keep an eye out for our target.
For a few seconds, I'd imagine my eyes were as big as dinner plates and my body probably shook like a twig. "Y-yeah.' I nodded my head quickly, making an adamant prayer to Pony Jesus that I didn't mess up tonight.
I threw my nastiest glare of disgust over to the other two mooks as they snickered at my plight.
Those metro-sexual bastards.
With a deep sigh of those who have accepted their horrible fate long ago, I too returned my gaze to the area of our mutual interest. Tonight was an important job for us. We currently founds ourselves on top of an abandoned warehouse down in the docks of Trotham, on a little bit of a combination reconnaissance/retrieval mission that was in the best interests of both Shadowmane and me and the mooks' boss, the legendary villainess known as The Mane-iac. Shadowmane came to our newest hideout in Maretropolis one evening without any warning or detection, it was as if she wasn't there one moment, and then she simply materialized before us the next. Scared the ever-loving CRAP out of us minions! (Mane-iac simply laid back in her throne of hair and looked slightly less bored than she was the second before. )
Turns out being an undetectable master thief has perks outside of the immediately obvious, as during one of her jobs where she was commissioned to steal the Hoof Diamond( ugh, puns), some professional thugs had beat her to it. Now, normally she could easily take out any average group of thieves and leave with what she was looking for before they ever even realized they'd been had, but her years of experience told her that these guys were good. The were dressed in the latest and greatest gear, armed to the teeth with military semi-autos and held themselves like they were a well-trained SWAT team. She felt it would be wise of her to not chance it, and so instead she simply observed and listened. From what she gathered, they worked for a new crime boss in town and she had overheard the details of the next job they planned to pull. It just so happened, that the next job they planned to pull was scheduled to go down in some of Mane-iac''s turf, without her permission.
She took that insult with great maturity and poise, as I'm sure you know.
And so, here we are, me with two of the generic grunts Mane-iac manages to draw to her voluptuous insanity like hipster flies to coffee-shop honey, accompanied by Shadowmane as a "favor" to Mane-iac for something our glorious leader once did for her in the past, but between you and me I think our little pony-kunoichi is mostly using that as an excuse to get some revenge on these guys. In any case, our orders are to simply gather some intel on what these boys are doing so rudely in our mistress' turf and if an opportunity presents itself, we're to take anything the boss would find valuable.
"If they're going to use my real estate, they can pay the fees." She had cackled on the subject.
A quick glance at the four of us made me think that we really weren't going to get a chance to do that anytime soon, so my highest priority was to memorize everything I could about these guys, what they're smuggling in, and to see if I could recognize any distinguishing marks or features that could give away their allegiance. My night vision was almost ridiculously good, and was really the only reason I could see for me to be of any use here.
Anyway we got off topic a little bit, my name is (currently) Beezan, and I'm a magic user of a "certain persuasion". And by "certain persuasion", I mean I have the power to bring any piece of furniture to life, leaving them under my control to do my bidding! In theory! Turns out, in practice, my power is really more of a hassle than it's worth... Hypothetically, I could make a local IKEA into my own personal army, and they would follow my orders to a "T", but it'd only last for a few minutes... THEN they'd start to rebel, and let me tell you how fun being swarmed by enraged folding chairs and ottomans is: it's "root canal" fun!
Yeah, okay, I might sound a little bitter, but you would be too. At first, after the initial shock of what had happened to me had passed, I had spent every ounce of my energy into finding a way to get home. I know that there are plenty of guys out there that would have LOVED to just stay in this amazing fantasy/comic book world of anthropomorphic animal people and forsake the real life they lived in, but I wasn't one of them. Sure, the life I had was balls back on Earth. But I had grown used to my life being balls! All of the fail that had accumulated in my 24 years of living has all become unique and precious to me, and as sad as that is to admit, it was true. I had spent almost a quarter of a century learning to deal with the crapsack that was life on a planet of humans, and NOW the universe just expected me to be learn how to deal with someone else's crapsack of a life that was even more fail worthy than my own???
Fuck that noise!!! Right in the ear!
Of course I spent months finding out how to get home. I learned everything I could about my new body and what was established as what my new persona had done before I took the reins. I experimented in many different ways to learn the extent of my new found powers, and I mastered them. Sure, they were only conditionally useful, but that was better than nothing! I trained hard and eventually got to the point where I could bring to life and control a small group of medium sized furniture for approximately 5 minutes 34 seconds. It may not seem like that big of a goal to you, but when I first tried my powers out, I was lucky to my newly born minions to do my bidding for a few seconds at a time!
I discovered that I had partial access to the original Beezan's memories, and I learned what to expect of people due to my minuscule reputation, as well as what little allies I had and who they were. I did some morally questionable things in return for the resources I needed to find my way home. At the time, I didn't care what I had to do. What crimes I had to help commit, what amount of dignity I had to shred to make it through my journey, it was meaningless to me. I was gonna get home, and then it would all be the problem of whoever would inhabit Beezan's body when I was gone.
Karma's a bitch, ain't she? I guess it was justice that because I was such an uncaring douchenozzle in my mad dash to get back to my own dimension, my own world, that I found out that the magic that brought me here couldn't get me back home... I was devastated. I lost all reason to live, all meaning. I just didn't care what happened to me anymore, I was just so tired... In my depression, in my anguish... I decided to throw all that I was away...
"Hmmm, life has no meaning anymore, does it? What a mane raisingpoint of view! If you're throwing your life away because you have no reason for living, then why not come live for me? Make my reasons yours..."
I shook myself out of it, and lightly patted myself on the face. The memory of my first meeting her was a powerful thing at times, if I wasn't careful it could consume me... Heh, a little while ago I mocked the "Wondertwins" over there for being moths so helplessly attracted to the flame that was The Mane-iac, and yet here I am...
I blinked in surprised as I looked down. I had unconsciously started to caress the green and purple leather choker that was strapped around my neck, the silver padlock dangling from my throat with a big "M" carved into it, to remind the world of who's property I had become.
...I'm not even whipped, am I? I'm domesticated!
"I'm not sure how I feel about that..." I muttered aloud and felt my brow furrow.
"Quiet!' Shadowmane hissed at me over her shoulder, and pointed down at the docks. "We have company..."
Why couldn't I've been Discord?(edited)
What do you picture when you think of shady, illicit deals taking place in the dead of night down by the docks? Most people tend to visualize the same thing. They think in line with mob stories, with very nice and discreet black cars or limos driving up to the wharf, perhaps stopping in front of a warehouse where another very nice and discreet black car or limo is waiting, usually with intimidating men in pinstripe suits and sunglasses wielding small arms or semi-automatics standing either side to an older looking gentleman in a nicer pinstripe suit, with perhaps an expensive looking fur coat draped over their shoulders and a cane held in a meaty fist, adorned with golden rings and diamonds, waiting in front of his vehicle with a look on his face that suggests he thinks the world belongs to him.
The other car and/or limo (very nice and discreet, black) would stop at a respectable distance, with the headlights on and shining into the other group that is waiting for them. Men of a similar fashion to the other group will get of the vehicle, in equal armament and attire, except carrying a steel cache briefcase of some kind. They'll exchange some pleasantries, one of them will tire of said pleasantries and suggest they get down to business, the other will ask if they got the stuff, and in response someone will ask if the other person has the money, they'll pussyfoot around that little song and dance for a few seconds like peacocks attempting to grandstand and worry about appearances, before they finally stop wasting everybody's time and make the exchange and be on their merry little way, maybe even contemplating how to screw their associates over to get back whatever it was that they parted with.
This wasn't one of those stylized moments.
"Huh,' I spoke up a little as I watched. "Aside from the color of the vehicle, 'The Godfather' lied to me...'
We observed as the sound of an engine echoed off the walls of the derelict and in disrepair buildings that provided privacy from the main roads and into view appeared an armored car. Like, legitimately a black Hummer you'd see used to transport money between banks, only this one had no visible markings on the sides whatsoever, and the license plates seemed to be obscured and blurry somehow. I think I saw an 'America's Most Wanted' that touched on how someone was able to do that a few years back, but I couldn't really recall how it was done.
"Geez, overcompensation much?' one of the generic Mane-iac mooks snorted derisively.
" I don't know, I've seen worse. Trust me, I've seen worse,' replied the other mook, who looked and sounded like a carbon copy of the one who spoke up first. God, that never ceased to freak me out...
Shadowmane observed in silence, her cape obscuring her body and her hood masking her face in the faint light of a moon covered by a cloudy night sky.
The sound of car doors opening mixed heavy footfalls was heard, as a small squadron of large stallions in black combat gear swarmed out of the armored truck, like a terrifying clown car at the circus.
...Okay, so just like a clown car.
I watched in increasing anxiety as 8 heavily armed men wield assault rifles spread out from the truck, and began to sweep the area of any surprises that might have been set up beforehand. They scoured the area in pairs, working like a well-oiled machine as they checked every nook and cranny, having each other's backs as they investigated the surrounding alleyways, showing an incredible of training and experience. These guys didn't seem to fit with the local crime scene. They REALLY made it easy to tell that they weren't amateurs of any sort. They were the real deal, they wouldn't be taken in a fight with anybody, and they were really scaring the ever loving piss out of me!
"Jesus Christ on a cracker..." I whispered in fear.
One of the mook twins whistled low, impressed.
"Damn, they aren't fucking around, are they?' he whispered in a hush, as if he was afraid we'd be overheard from here.
"...I still say they're overcompensating for something,' the other mook scoffed quietly. "Their boots have, like, 6-inch soles! They can pretend to be as badass as they want, but I bet their women are seeing other guys on the side..."
"Rowr, kitty got claws tonight~' Mook A teased, and I could feel a little of the tension fade from my chest.
"Yeah, you seem to be kind of bitchy tonight,' I agreed, turning to shoot a playful smirk at them. " Are you projecting a personal experience on to the big bad soldiers?"
Mook B (I assumed) rolled his eyes and clicked his tongue, tossing his head to swish his pretty colt locks out of his face. " You wish, you hairless chimp!" His voice said he was offended, but my good night vision caught the ghost of a smile at the edges of his muzzle.
I shared a look with Mook A, who mouthed something dirty that I don't feel needs to be repeated, seeing as it almost made me Urkel snort and I feel a little bad that I found it so humorous.
Fortunately, my embarrassment was caught off before it could begin, as a small, strong hand clutched me around my windpipe and squeezed dangerously hard. I grabbed the slender wrist at my throat desperately as I started to suffocate far faster than I should have. I'll have to blame it on the poor condition of my new body's lungs.
"This is your first and only warning, Beezan.' Shadowmane seethed calmly, putting more pressure to the grip she hold on me for emphasis. " Lose focus one more time, and see what happens."
I nodded quickly and cowardly, grateful I had nothing to drink recently, otherwise I'd be pissing my robes right about now. I pleaded with my eyes, which were probably bugging out on their sockets to compliment the lovely shade of purple I was no doubt turning. I clawed weakly at her hand, but she paid no attention to me as she turned to Mooks A & B, who I couldn't blame for staying out of this, judging by their wide-eyed and fearful stares.
"That goes for you two as well. Am I making myself clear?' she spoke calmly and with authority, as if she was a manager at a McDonalds giving an employee one more chance to shape up at the fryer, rather than threatening to kill us if we stepped out of line.
They nodded in response, unable to verbalize their submission.
Seemingly satisfied, Shadowmane turned her attention back to me. She stared for another excruciating couple of seconds into my panicked eyes, before she let go.
I tried to keep my pathetic gasping and choking for breath as quiet as possible, lest I should somehow draw her wrath for a third time tonight.
Luckily, I was able to distract myself from my crippling fear of the dangerous thief beside me, taking up my post once more to watch what was happening far below us. The soldier had taken up some kind of military formation around the vehicle in anticipation of an arrival from whomever they were supposed to be meeting here, and then I noticed that I had miscounted how many of them there were. Standing in the back of the other soldiers and leaning almost nonchalantly against the side of the armored truck was a striking figure, and I could tell instantly that he must be the one calling the shots. The earth pony soldier stood perhaps a few inches shorter than any of the others, but from the subtle way he held himself, I honestly found him to be the more imposing one standing down there.
He wore a lighter looking version of the combat armor that the rest of the squad was wearing, which from what I could see seemed to be adorned in a different fashion as well. While the other's tactical black gear was plain and looked to be full of pockets to carry their weapons and other items, his had very little in carry capacity as only his black cargo pants had pockets, with a single pouch bag attached to his belt by one hip. His armor was also embroidered with badges and symbols I could quite make out from where we hid, but even someone like me who had no knowledge of military protocol could guess they represented his rank and achievements. The other more obvious difference in his armor were the lacquered black shoulder pads he wore that were reminiscent of Judge Dredd...
A fearful side glance at the female crouching inches next to me prevent me from making a cliched reference. I really didn't want to make Shadowmane angry again. When I had first met her earlier today, I had thought that she was cool and mysterious, and that give her an attractive side to her, but now it seemed like I was afraid of her on an instinctive level after being on the receiving end of her killer intent. My body was probably conditioned to do whatever she would tell me to do, now.
But hey, what could I do? I was just pathetic little Beezan, furniture wizard and human pet to one of the biggest villains in the world.
And Shadowmane? Well, she was "The Law". (Dammit, I promised myself I wouldn't make that reference...)
"Beezan."
I almost jumped out of my skin when Shadowmane spoke up again, and already my body trembled in fear as it waited to be harmed once more.
"Y-yes?!' I squeaked, mentally kicking myself for being such a pansy.
She didn't turn to look at me, keeping her eyes on our targets in a vigilant manner. I waited for her to speak up for a few moments, nervously wondering what I had done this time. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Mooks A & B giving silent farewells and mouthing how they'd miss me. The little pricks!
"Can you see that figure in the back?' I was jerked back to pay attention to the mare beside me before I forgot myself and made a rude gesture in return to the jackasses further down.
"Um, yeah, I can see him...' I said uncertainly, wondering what she meant before I remembered that while we had brought binoculars, I was the only one with inexplicable night vision here, and it was probably much darker for my allies than it was for me. Funny how you can grow so used to something that there are times when you forget about it and assume everyone else has it, too.
The hooded master thief glanced at me with a yellow eye.
"Mm-hmm, I mean yes, I can see him almost perfectly." I cleared my still very sore and hoarse throat, before responding with more confidence.
She turned back to gaze out at the soldiers. "Describe him to me."
Obediently, I turned my head and scrutinized the stallion a little more.
"Oh, uh, he's a little shorter than those other guys. He isn't wearing a helmet and has fancier looking armor, he looks middle-aged with a greying dark-red mane cut short in a militaristic style. His coat is dark brown, with scars on face, one cross-shaped scar below his left eye and a thin scar stretch across his jaw line to just under his chin,' I squinted my eyes. "He's got some badges pinned to his upper chest, but I can't make them out... I think he's a high ranking officer of some kind. He... I feel like he's dangerous."
I look back over to Shadowmane, flinching in surprise as my gaze met hers. She stared at me in silence once more, her expression unreadable in the shadows of her hood, before turning back to watch the docks as the sound of a car in the distance alerted us to more company.
"Good work." She said simply and quietly enough that I almost thought I imagined it.
A fluttering warmth tickled my chest, though I couldn't tell if it was relief that I didn't anger her, pride in myself for her praise, or...
"If your description is accurate, then there might be much more going on here than I first believed...,' she sighed a bit, catching the curiosity of both me and the Mooks. " The only stallion with these kinds of resources and fits that description is Breaker Rex. This just got a lot more serious..."
The name wasn't at all familiar to me, but judging by how Mooks A & B gasped in shock when they heard it, it's probably a good thing I hadn't heard of this guy before.
"Who's Breaker Rex?' I ventured, but was cut off with wave of her hand. She pointed at something and I followed her finger to look upon a new car pulling up. This car fit much better into the surroundings than the armored Hummer, but it wasn't "mobster" level or even close to it. In fact, I wouldn't be out of line to say that the car that pulled up was a piece of shit.
It was an old, broken-down boat of a Cadillac that might have had a nice cherry red paint job years ago, but it had faded and chipped and been repainted many times only for that paint job to fade and chip until it got repainted too, and that cycle went on for a long time until it reached its current appearance, which was that of a jawbreaker that had broken in half and could get 10 miles to the gallon.
A loud bang echoed all around us, and for a second I thought it was the result of a shotgun being fired. As I dove for cover a second later, I heard a sputtering sound of an old engine, and the loud bang once again.
My cheeks flushed in embarrassment as I heard the restrained snickers of the Mooks at my skittishness, but mostly because even Shadowmane looked down at me and raised an eyebrow in what I read as pity.
Grumbling to myself, I rose up and dusted off my crimson robes and used my staff to balance myself as I did so on the slanted roof. Crouching down again and trying to ignore the feeling of my comrades staring at me, I returned my attention to the people getting out of the old rustbucket.
"They're just kids!' I blinked in surprised, noticing the young colts that climbed out of the car, following an older looking mare. There were four of them, and they all looked like the couldn't be older than 16. They all wore various hoodies and jackets, a couple wore bandanas while one wore a backwards ballcap and the remaining teen wore a knit beanie. I shook my head in part wonder and exasperation, as I noted they all wore jeans.
And all of their jeans had belts.
YET THEY WERE STILL SAGGING DOWN PAST THEIR BUTTS!
I sighed and rubbed a temple to combat the coming headache, drowning out the whispered sounds of disgust from the Mooks.
I was about to make a bitter comment about the youth of today and risk dating myself, when I took a better look at the mare. She wore a skintight latex bodysuit and held herself with far more poise and grace then her muscle that it was almost ridiculous. She was an earth pony mare with a thin frame, but toned legs that the catsuit hugged in a complementary way. Her mane and tail were long, straight silky looking, both a raven black color. I watched her approach the soldiers, and saw Breaker Rex flick away a cigar as he met her halfway. He motioned behind him with a gesture, and a soldier stepped forward with a small glass case that held an absurdly large diamond that shone like a star even in the dark of the night. The thugs behind the mare visibly tensed up as the soldier came forward, showing just how green they were. I watched the two leaders talk for a moment, before some sort of agreement seem to be made. Breaker smiled, his pearly whites visible in the dark and he nodded his head to the mare in the delicious bodysuit.
"That's really strange,' I found myself speaking up as I watched the soldier hand over the Hoof Diamond, and then walk back to the armored truck without a backwards glance. "They're just giving it to that mare... They didn't get anything in return for it!"
"What? Just like that?" One of the Mooks sounded appalled at such a notion.
"No trade at all?" The the mook sounded almost as scandalized, though mostly confused.
"Yeah, nothing!' I confirmed as we watched the armed soldiers pile into their vehicle and leave, the other group keeping their eyes on them until they drove out of sight.
"They must have some other arrangement in place. If they didn't make an even trade here and now, that could mean a lot of things..." Shadowmane said thoughtfully, pinching her chin between her thumb and index finger and narrowing her eyes. ( Is her coat silver? I wish I could see more of her face!!)
Keeping my eyes on the mare, I watched as one of the teen came to relieve her of the diamond and very careful placed it into the trunk of their car. I watched her take out a prepaid cell phone from...somewhere and dial a number. Holding the phone up to her ear, she turned around to face the car and that's when I recognized her.
"Holy Smurf!' I exclaimed in surprise. "It's Duet!"
"What?!" Shadowmane's exclamation, however, sounded more like anger at this new information. Her head snapped in my direction so fast, I thought her hood was going to rip from her cloak and fly over the bay to Maretropolis. "Are you sure that's Duet? The same Duet who works for Sound Rave? You better be sure!"
I was taken off guard at how quickly her demeanor changed. Even when she was choking the life out of me, her inflection never changed from the calm storm it had been the whole day. Now, she had spoke in a rushed way and sounded very mad and impatient.
"Y-yeah, I'm sure! I promise you, I know it's Duet! I've met her awhile back and had a lot of conversations with her,' I stammered fearfully at the way Shadowmane loomed threateningly above me, gripping my staff so tight I fear I might break my hand. " I swear it's her!"
I like to imagine that under that shadowy hood, the master lady-thief's nostrils were flaring comically and steam was shooting out of her ears. It helps me remember how terrifying she was as she stood up without making fudge.
I barely had a chance to speak up at that point. I was unable to remind her that our main priority was to get recon and report back to Mane-iac, that Shadowmane should calm down and stop standing so tall that she was going to give our position away. I didn't even want to fool myself into thinking that I could've reached out and grab her in time, at least not without harm to myself for being so bold. I was helpless to stop her from leaping from the rooftop with an incredible jump like she was a graceful antelope practicing parkour.
I watched in awe as not only did Shadowmane leap rough half a football field to close the distance, but she managed to land in a crouch, unharmed, when she landed. She startled the teen thugs with her very sudden appearance, and before they could react, even as Duet spun around to face the possible threat, Shadowmane thrust out her arm in blur, and suddenly no less than a dozen throwing knives had embedded themselves into the mare's flesh. Time seemed to stand still as Duet reeled back from the impact of so many stabbings, coughing up a dark liquid that I was pretty sure wasn't a good sign, and hit the floor in a pool of her own blood.
I stared in disbelief at the sight.
She really did it.
She had killed somebody so easily and with no hesitation.
Even though I knew she was willing to kill if it became necessary or if someone got in her way, I never in a million years would have thought she'd fly off the handle unprovoked like that! What had happened between them that made her lose control like that?! I know I said I was scared of her earlier, but this...This made me terrified.
"Son of a bitch!!!" one of the Mooks cursed loudly, before both of them began a little parkour of their own and leapt off the roof to go play back-up for our team leader, just as the shock wore off of the thugs and they brandished pistols and uzis as they fired on Shadowmane in a blind rage.
Of course, with her super reflexes she was able to roll out of the line of fire and managed to take cover behind a nearby crate, but it looked like she was pinned down.
"Dammit, I thought she was the 'level headed one', Mane-iac!" I threw my arms up in anger and panic, mocking the words of my mistress as I began to look for a SANE way off the roof, as I was entirely sure I wouldn't land in quite as badass and un-squished a way as the others.
As I went to gingerly climb down a drainage pipe hanging on the side of the warehouse, my eyes were drawn to the dying form of a mare I had once been friends with... Well, Beezan was once friends with her, but since I was now Beezan, I figured it transferred over. And as I turned to send a sad silent farewell to the refined beauty, I almost fell off the roof as I watched the body of Duet glow bright blue, and burst into glowing dust that vanished in thin air.
The only thing that managed to save my poor mind, as I was still getting used to seeing crazy powers, was the shouts of combat and the ringing of bullets being fired nearby. I could have a nervous breakdown about stupid mares with their stupid secret powers that gave me a heart attack later, right now my friends needed me.
At least, I could try to help, anyway...
*----------------------*
"I died." Duet announced to the room in a bored tone.
An electric blue maned head rose from below the femme fatale and gazed up at her, eyebrows furrowing together.
"That's a little harsh, don'tcha think?' the scratchy, tomboy-ish voice ventured with a hint of sullenness, the mare wiping her mouth with the back of her gloved hand. "I mean, yeah, I don't do this very much and so I realize I'm not exactly a wiz at it yet, got lot's to improve on, but I didn't think I was doing that bad!"
Sitting back on her heels, the kneeling mare preceded to pout a little as she continued to justify her perceived poor skills at a certain type of ministration, her pristine white ears drooping ever so much as each second rolled by, making the unicorn look more and more like a dejected puppy as she continued. Duet watched the mare in silence from her spot on the desk, idly noticing how in the ultraviolet lamp of the office, the pony before her seemed to glow. Wordlessly, she sat up straight and adjusted her skirt to a proper level once more, then proceeded to re-clasp her bra and button up her blouse as she watched her companion delve further and further into a downward spiral of insecurity and brash rationalizations as to why she was lacking in her "duties".
'You'd never think this was the same person who used her unyielding personality and charisma to unite the slums under one banner.' Duet thought to herself, smoothing out her long, silky black mane as she waited out the other mare's pity party.
" - because I'm so used to stallions I might mess up once or twice, yeah. That's true. Should I be held on trial because I'm having trouble adjusting? Hell no! I'm doing my best, Duey, and I'm sorry if my skills aren't up to your impossible standards, but I've never loved another mare before and I'm constantly wondering if I'm doing right by you, because I really want to make you happy, but there's just so much pressure involved -"
With a sigh and a swift motion, Duet was off of the desk and kneeling before the babbling white girl, her face gently cupped between her hands as she cut off her continuing tirade with a soft, yet deep kiss.
The younger mare's eyes widened in surprise, but due to the purple shades that were like a permanent addition to her face, it went unnoticed.
"You're adorable, love,' Duet broke the kiss, keeping her lover's face held delicately in her hands. "I didn't mean because of you. I meant in a more literal sense, not a passion concerned one. You're doing just fine."
Satisfied that she dismissed any doubts in her partner, the grey mare rose to her feet and scanned the room for her blazer. It was always the hardest piece of clothing to find after they got affectionate.
"Oh,' the other mare blinked once, before grinning wide and lazily. "Awesome."
Duet rolled her eyes at the confidence that returned to Sound Rave, evident in her voice. She smiled all the same, as the dangerous right hand mare was happy if her love was happy.
"Indeed,' she intoned in a dry manner, never able to change the emotional inflection in her voice. She just never found herself able to sound anything other than 'bored' when she spoke, and thus she'd found herself in many awkward situations where she may have inadvertently rubbed someone the wrong way. Perhaps it was one of the reasons she was initially drawn to the DJ turned drug lord. Sound Rave was the only pony who ever knew exactly what she meant when she said something. She never had to worry about misunderstandings with her.
"So, anyway, what were you saying, babe?"
Victorious in her pursuit of her last garment, Duet turned to face her lover, her professional attire once again completed, primed, and miraculously pressed. She looked good as new, while Sound Rave rummaged through a small collection of paperwork, fast food wrappers, and empty bottles, muttering about a thong...
"I said I died. Someone killed my clone,' Duet said evenly, stepping forward and reaching into the black vortex that was Sound Rave's desk, and producing the underwear in question to her. " Remember I sent her to oversee the deal in the Trotham docks? Well, we had some uninvited guests show up, as it were."
Wiggling into her underwear, Sound Rave raised an eyebrow at her most trusted person, who seemingly by magic had found and present the short shorts she was wearing earlier. "Shit, for real? Give me the details, then.' she sighed as she stepped into her shorts one leg at a time, her hooves clicking on the dirty hardwood floor.
"Probably should mop or something in here..." she murmured quietly, before having her tanktop pushed into her arms. She nodded to Duet, and gave her full attention as she dressed, while the taciturn grey mare recounted what happened moments ago.
Now while those who knew her might think that Sound Rave was irresponsible and never took anything seriously, those who knew her the best could confirm that that was mostly true. However, when it came to her ambitions and those she cared about, everyone knew that she did everything in her power to make sure things went her way. From building her underground empire to fabricating the public, partying persona that owned 40% of all the nightclubs in Trotham, and ultimately to the outcasts and the street kids that she connected with on a very personal level, that she had 'adopted' into her 'family' to give them a shot at being able to be somebody, to have a place they belonged, she was strong-willed and determined to succeed in anyway necessary, regardless of what she had to do and how much of her soul she had to sell. She took care of her own. And anybody who stood in her way of doing that was dealt with.
"Shit...' she sighed heavily and fell back into her desk chair with a huff. " Are you sure it was Mane-iac that interrupted the deal?"
Duet stood dutifully to one side, hands held behind her back. She nodded sharply in response.
"I'm afraid so. A small group of her underlings had apparently being staking out the area before we arrived. It looked like it was going to be a simple deal with 'the Breakers', but Shadowmane attacked and killed me." she said, before shrugging slightly. "At least we got the diamond."
Sound Rave sighed once more, shutting her eyes tightly and massaging her temples with her index fingers. "Double shit... Shadowmane and Mane-iac are still friends? I had that girl pegged as a bit more 'grudge-holdy' than that ,especially after the whole 'League of Villainy' incident..."
"I believe they called themselves the 'Alliance of Malice', actually...' Duet said, a subtle twinkle in her brown eyes.
"Nah, that's already taken...' Sound Rave shook her head. " I'm sure they had a meeting about what they were gonna name themselves, seems like something Mane-iac would think of doing... If not her, that emo bastard Longface or the 'Phony Pharaoh' probably have enough dramatic arrogance to demand they be named something poetic and cool..."
"You know your brother Phetlock hates it when you call him that."
"Chyeah, that's why I do it, babe,' Sound Rave grinned at her lover, before standing up and stretching. "Mmnn...Alright, I better get ready for some retaliation."
Grabbing her white leather jacket and draping it over one shoulder, the disc jockey dynamo stormed out of her office. Taking a second to remember which way to go in the concrete hallway, she made a right turn and walked towards the front of the building like she owned the place (which she did), Duet effortlessly keeping up the wild-strided pace of her partner.
"I didn't expect Mane-iac to figure out we were moving in on her territory so quickly, since her base of operations is over in Maretropolis and the goons she has stationed here don't patrol as often as they should,' she started thinking aloud as she was wont to do. Duet kept silent beside her. " Though, I guess if Shadowmane is still buddies with the 'Herbal Essence' bitch, it makes sense she'd team up with her after we screwed her over on that heist. Yeah, I don't blame her. It was probably a dick move on our parts to hire her like that, then not even give her a heads up when we got a better offer... Ey, Duey, doesn't Shadowmane like tequila?"
"Scotch, love."
"Ah, right! Scotch! I remember now, she's got a bit of a thirst for that stuff...Make sure to set aside some of our dankest shit for her, then. Incase we can come to a diplomatic agreement, ya dig?"
The assistant was silent for a moment, remembering the pain of her clone's death and the "diplomacy" that lead to it, before responding.
"Noted. I'll get right on it." Duet nodded obediently, swiftly switching from lover mode to assistant mode with ease. She had grown used to the almost bipolar way Sound Rave approached those around her, and had learned to anticipate such switches before they happened.
"Righteous, babe! You're the best,' she grinned at some of her boys as she passed them in the hallway, getting almost worshipful looks of admiration from the teens in return. " Okay, so I'm thinking this is gonna go down one of two ways, right? Either Mane-iac will retaliate by losing her shit and coming to our doors in full force, and wiping us out in a one-side massacre since she's got twice the boys with twice the experience, or more likely, if I got a good understanding of Shadowmane's code of honor, the ol' bedhead from Hell will send her and another small group of guys to keep up appearances and give us a chance to apologize and suck her tits. Though to be fair, I'm trying to predict the actions of a psychopath, so just to be on the safeside..."
Bursting through the double doors that separated the back of the building from the club, Sound Rave stood tall as the wall-shaking beats and seizure inducing lights made the air of the dance floor positively thrum with energy. She scanned the hundreds of her people dancing to the a delicious wubz and electronica, the checkered floor lighting up with every color of the rainbow in time with the baseline throbbing from the subwoofers. She grinned as she watched her protege coming into her own at the spin station, losing himself to the sweet sounds he was producing with his DJ skills. She took it all in, and her features softened significantly despite the urgency of their planning. She lowered her signature shades from her eyes and stared over her shoulders at her trusted assistant.
Duet took a second to become lost those eyes. The eyes that against all logic, seemed to glow a bright a vivid red even in the shadows where they stood. The eyes of Sound Rave, the mare whom Duet vowed to dedicate her life to.
"Prepare for a siege...No matter what happens, I'm gonna protect everyone of them,' Sound Rave said jovially, but with a serious hint of danger to her voice. " Because they belong to me. And I take care of what's mine."
Author's Note
Here we are! Next chapter and hints of the story to come! How exciting!
I'm glad you've all enjoyed this so far, it really made my day to see so much encouragement and kind words! Thank you, I love you all!~
Now, I've proofread this a few times and made edits to it accordingly, but if you noticed any typos, please be a darling and let me know? 
