You Can Meet a Killer, But You Can't Kilometer
"I don't claim to be good. I mean, I'm certainly not bad. I don't, say, turn ponies into stone for being themselves. But then, unless you're a certain pair of alicorns, you don't either. Congratulations, we're both unhorrible people!"
Luna stared at me, brows raised in a confusing mix of ire and amusement. "You do realize your present audience, do you not?"
Ah yes, the lovable princess of the night. So sweet, so even tempered these days. Hard to believe she once wielded the element of laughter.
"Yes, yes, I suppose you were half of the dynamic duo. But in the interest of letting bygones be bygones and not holding century-old grudges for, you know, trapping me in a Tartaric living prison, I'm just going to pretend it was all Celestia's idea and that you just sort of caved to peer pressure. Sound fair?"
I'll never know if that sounded fair, because Luna changed the subject. I'd like to think it sounded fair to her though.
"Discord, why are you here?"
Here was her observatory on the top floor of one of the taller Canterlot Castle towers. It was kind of her private sanctuary. I mean, I guess some ponies might consider this trespassing or at least ignoring boundaries, but Luna's a good chummy pal of mine. Besides, aren't we supposed to come together in friendship? I'm just doing my job!
"Discord?" she asks again, perhaps a wee bit perterbed.
"Ah, yes, sorry. Internal monologue. What was your question?"
"Why are you here in our private observatory?"
Uh oh, she brought out the "royal we". Our relationship must be getting serious. "Ah, well, I was just getting to that, Princess, but you keep interupting me!"
"I am NOT inter... Just, carry on."
"I do believe I will. As I was saying, I don't consider myself a bad person. I just want this concept to frame our conversation."
"Duly noted."
"Right, so um, anyway, that being said, I well, uh, you see..."
"Discord, we lack patience for your, I believe the phrase is 'dally-dillies'. Please, make haste in the message you seek to convey."
Dally-dillies? Score: Modern Equestrian 1, Luna 0.
"Okay, right, so I, well, might have killed a pony.
"WHAT?!"
Yeah, full Royal Canterlock Voice. About the reaction I was expecting. Probably should have eased her into the news, but, you know, subtlety has never been my strong suit.
"Well, a griffin, actually, but I assure you--"
"Discord, you killed somepo--someone! Why did you kill someone?!" Ice was spreading rapidly along the floor from her suddenly very heavy-looking shoes. I think she was angry.
"Right, I was getting to that! Hold your horses! Hear me out, Luna pal."
"We are hearing you out. Pray I hold your explanation acceptable."
"To whom shall I pray? I'm kind of a god."
"Discord!"
"Right, no wise remarks. As I was saying, I don't consider myself a bad person, and I think you'll agree, after I have regalled you with my tail."
"Start regalling."
"Very well," my tail said. She intensified her icy glare, and I decided that perhaps a normal regalling was in order, and switched to talking with my mouth. "It all started yesterday..."
Discord was having a good day. The last of his model aeroplanes had arrived yesterday, and he was currently in the process of assembling them all together in a glorious mess of balsa wood, paint, stickers, and glue. Mostly glue.
"You're telling this in thirdpony?"
"Look," he told the annoying alicorn who kept interupting him, "my story, my rules." As he was saying, he was hard at work on another one of his widely aclaimed masterpieces.
"Your sculptures are atrocious, Discord. I fail to understand what ponies see in your 'modern art'."
"Luna," he intoned, annoyed, "do or do you not wish to hear of my act of valor? Shush."
"Very well, I shall hold my tongue. Proceed."
Having secured the silence of the annoying alicorn, Discord was gluing a small patch of rusty-blue shag carpet to the fusilage of one of these small flying machines when he felt a disturbance in the force.
"The force?"
"Luna, let me finish or I will steal your socks," he threatened, and the blanched terrorified-at-the-thought-of-not-having-socks annoying alicorn was quiet for the remaining duration of the story.
As he was saying, Discord felt a great disturbance in the force of magic around him. For as ponies know, among Discord's many, many talents was his ability to detect the ebb and flow of magic in the world around him. And he had just discovered a mighty void.
The magic in an area can disappear for a variety of reasons. It may be sucked into a battery for storage. Teleportation can leave a choppy wake in the field. A supressor ring might be fitted upon a unicorn. If you want more details on that one, go to a bookstore, this is rated teen. The list goes on, and is currently procured by PurpleSmart, aka my fillyfriend.
"You know how we feel about your relationship. Why are you bringing it up?"
"Don't be jelly, Ms. Wants-to-Lose-Her-Socks," Discord countered, shutting down the hater. As he was saying, magic can dissappear, or seem to disappear for many reasons. But there is one instance that caused the ugliest vacuum of all: death.
One of the great benefits of having claws, talons, hands, etc. is the ability to snap. Discord was thankful for this ability as he rapidly winked in and out of existance with each snap. He was triangulating where the disturbance had originated as he teleported around Canterlot. Twilight was better with the math on this exercise, but he could brute force his way towards the problem. A dozen points of observation, and he had narrowed it to the third tier. Eight more, and he had found the neighborhood. Three after that, and he had reached ground zero. Time ellapsed: twelve seconds. He found himself staring down an alley at a killer.
but until five minutes ago, there have only been five murders in the city of Canterlot this year. You've just commited the sixth.
"We're not all named Gustav!"
"Well then, what's yours?"
"I, um
"Grand Mall"
Me? I never really messed with griffins too much. Too stoic and stuffy.
He spat into his a claw and wringed his hands together. A fuzzy lump appeared, which he stretched and molded like taffy. Soon he had a flat cloud next to him, somehow falling at the same speed and looking suspiciously like a whiteboard.
Discord pulled a marker cap off of one of his talons and began to write upon the cloudboard.
Actually, let's say 256 kilometers per hour. That's a convienient number for reasons I'll explain shortly. Or do you prefer meters per second?"
Grand Mall noted with alarm that a lot of meters seemed to be passing him by every second. "Uhhhh, meters per second?"
"Great, let's go with an approximation of 64 meters per second. Nice round number."
"Is that how fast we're falling?" he shouted over the roaring winds around them.
"More or less. Really, what're a few meters per second between friends?"
"Friends? I suspect you're going to kill me," the suspect suspect suspected.
"Fine, frienemies. Can you live with that?" The draconequuis demanded.
"I don't think I have a choice in the matter."
"It's a, uh, logarythmic thing or something. I dunno. I leave fancy math to Twilight."
"Hey, is it true you two are dating?"
"Is it true you're falling?" he snapped back.
"So, that's a yes?"
"Here, let's make a little chart!" the draconequis gleefully announced. He handed, or well, taloned over the marker to Grand.
"Uh, what do you want me to do with this?"
"Start plotting data!" Discord snapped, waving a ruler threateningly. The griffin complied. Soon they had an increasingly succinct spreadsheet, or chart, or whatever, Discord normally hates statistics, of data:
1 km up at 64m/s
1/2 km 32m/s
1/4 km 16/s
1/8 km 8/s
1/16 km 4
1/32 2/s
1/64 1/s
128 1/2
256 1/4
512 1/8
1024 16
"No. No no no! No no no no! Please wait!"
So you killed a griffin by... not letting him fall to his death?"
Her eyes widened. There went the gas lamp. I love it when my little ponies get on my level. "Oh... Ooooooh. Oh my me. Discord, you... the Everfree, animals, the animals, him floating there? Oh.
"Why did it have to be me? Why couldn't you have bothered any of the other Princesses?" Luna moaned, mostly to herself. But I'm good friend, so I answered her anyway.
"Well, Luna, as much as I love to bother Princesses: Celestia's molting right now and you know how she gets. My lovely Sparkle is currently on a diplomatic mission in Yakistan. You and I both know how Cadance gets around blood. And her daughter Skyla is twelve. Even I don't think we should take her to an execution site. So that leaves you, princess of the night and mildly antiquated speech patterns."
She sighed. I almost felt bad for her. Almost. "Very well. Take me there."
There, hovering a few centimeters above the leaves littering the ground, was a collection of bones, a few with tissue still attached. A menagerie of winged insects buzzed around the carrion. Luna looked unwell.
"Well, what do you think?"
My companion's face swam with nausia, and it took her several minutes before she swallowed the last lump of bile and look at the scene without shivering. Eventually, she managed to gravely intone, "While inventive, I can't help but feel this method of disposal to be... highly uncouth."
"Oh please, you sound like Rarity."
"I get that a lot."
"So, am I in trouble?"
"Discord, what this griffin did is reprehensable. But as satisfying as vigilante justice might be, it sets a bad precident. We ponies believe in the right to a fair trial, No capital punishment except in the extremest of cases, and so on. Things are a handled a lot differently than 1015 years ago. And for the most part I'm on board with that. I get that you were angry, and I don't believe this griffin will exactly be missed. But please, don't go around the law next time. It leads to chaos. And I know you love chaos, but I don't believe you are as fond of the violent kind, are you?"
"No, I'm not."
"When one pony, or draconequuis, is the judge, jury, and executioner it leads to... questions of fairness. Luckily, as twisted as you may be, you somehow seem to have a mediocre sense of right and wrong. But that isn't always the case. Dare I remind you of King Sombra?"
I shivered. That guy was Lawful Evil to a T. Gives me the willies. "No, you need not. I reluctantly get what you're saying Luna. Don't dispense blind justice, no matter how coolly you do it. Can I write a letter to Celestia now?"
"How you atone for your conscience is your own business. Right now, I would very much like to evacuate this location."
"Not a fan of barbeque?"
"Please don't test my patience or my stomach."
"Right."
Another snap, and we were back in her observatory. She looked relieved.
"Ughhh. I need rest. And creamed ice. Discord, please leave my presence. We will discuss this more another time."
Sweet, I was off the hook. I prepared to waltz out the door.
"Wait."
"Yessss," I replied, turning about with a pleasing smile on my face.
"I only think it's fair that you be the one to find and inform his relatives. Do you think you can do that in a respectful manner?"
"Well, I guess I can them I got the drop on him."
