The CT Ponies are off to Baltimare for Bronycon! They all gather the night before the convention to discuss what they plan on doing during their weekend.
Danger Close didn’t want to share her plans with the others, as she was on a personal mission for the weekend, and that kind of intel is on a “need-to-know” basis. What they don’t know is that Mandopony, DC’s favorite musician, is appearing at the convention, and she was going to do everything she could to get within breathing distance of him. In order to succeed in her mission, preparations have to be made.
Step One: Recon. In the opening hours of the convention, DC refers to the official convention program to take notes and pinpoint the exact times and locations when Mando would be in the open floor, attending a panel, performing, and trotting about town. While she thought she was in seclusion for this part, she soon realizes that Quin had witnessed what was going on.
“Oooh, who’re you stalking?” Quin asked.
“What, what are you talking about,” said DC, startled, “I’m…. drawing. In the program.”
Quin knew exactly what she was doing, because he was planning on stalking his own idol during the convention, if he actually [BUY SOME APPLES]ing showed up that year. His glare saw straight through DC’s shaky cover-up, and she knew she was compromised.
“Not a word to anyone,” warned DC. “I will make your life a nightmare, you understand?”
“Why would I? If Tombstone were here, I’d be doing the same thing right now.”
Relieved that she didn’t have a loose end named Quin that needed to be eliminated, DC continued in her preparations in assumed secrecy.
Step Two: Gather Supplies. Baltimare’s a rather intricate kind of city. There’s ledges, parks, tall buildings, dimly-lit alleyways… it’s practically an all-environments AO. Knowing this, DC had to stock up on everything she would need to observe and track Mando at any point of the convention: fastrope and rappelling rigs, nightvision goggles, all-weather survival gear, firesteel, and her trusty knife, just in case. Of course, lumbering these things around a convention center that’s being occupied by her friends made it rather risky toward maintaining secrecy. A few close calls arose as she was making her way from the convention center to her hotel room/base of operation. While she was transporting her rappelling kit, she ran into Rowback and Asclepius as they made their way through the Dealer Room.
“Oh, hey, DC,” said Rowback, noticing the odd set of ropes and hooks his frankly intimidating friend was carrying, “What are you…. up to?”
“Nothing,” replied DC, nervously adjusting the ropes in her saddlebag in an attempt to hide them, “Just uh, walking around…. and stuff.”
Asclepius, being of clearer conscience than Rowback at the moment, decided to air his own suspicion more clearly.
“What is that rope for?” he asked.
“....Bracelets” she replied. “I’m making friendship bracelets.”
Convinced her excuse was flawless, she continued on, leaving her friends’ confused looks in the dust. Nothing was going to stop her now. She was going to see Mando, no matter what. The plan was laid out, the location reconned, and the timetables set. All that was left was declaring the mission officially started.
Step Three: Execution. Intel suggested that Mando would be having dinner at the OverLook Restaurant approximately one and a half klicks south of the convention center, Saturday evening. The mission timeline was all in her head:
7:00 PM - arrive on rooftop of target building, secure lines and connection for rappelling at time of target’s seating at table
7:25 PM - surveillance of front entrance, observing average wait time and the arrival of the target (7:30 PM)
7:45 PM - target should be seated at table 16, approximately 60 feet directly below the vantage point. Rappel down to window adjacent to table, and, uh…. do… something?
Right on cue, Mando arrives at the restaurant and is seated. It was the moment she has been waiting for, DC was finally going to see Mandopony-- her idol, the whole reason she went to the convention in the first place (besides her friends, her interest in the subject matter, etc). She lowers herself down the side of the building with silent, trained precision, her ultimate target in sight. Everything around her became a blur as she drew closer, until eventually, the only things that existed in the universe were Danger Close, Mando, and the glass pane between them. DC froze. There were too many things she wanted to do at once, and the overloading of thought just wouldn’t allow her to move. All she could do was stare, in pure awe. The seconds that passed felt like lifetimes, repeating themselves in a beautiful cycle, and then, Mando looked out the window…. at her. His reaction? Well, think of it this way: if you’re a noted figure in your little niche community, and are in an area that is, at the time, densely populated by fans of yours, you’d STILL find the sight of a mare hanging upside down by a military-style rappelling harness system and staring from a window while you ate complimentary breadsticks extremely disturbing.
Danger was compromised. The objective had been failed. Mando was very much aware of her presence-- very afraid, in fact, and yet she remained frozen, still paralyzed from being star struck. She had to move. She knew she had to move, but all she could do was remain still, eyes widening in panic, in realization that she messed up. A few excruciatingly painful moments pass, and the uncomfortable locking of eyes between the two is broken by the arrival of Wildfire, Mando’s lady-type-friend, who became immediately aware of the situation her alleged coltfriend was experiencing.
“Hey, Mando,” Wildfire said, grabbing his hoof and pulling him away from the table, “Want to come to the bar with me for a moment?”
With her idol gone from the table, DC was able to regain her composure and be back in control of her actions. Her mind returned the world that had previously disappeared, and she was greeted by a restaurant full of shocked and confused ponies, all staring at her. Much to her embarrassment, in that crowd was a table occupied by her friends, some waving, some raising a glass, others preoccupied by how good the breadsticks were. She had no choice but to return to her vantage point and spend the rest of her night wallowing in defeat.
Few things can help combat depression in Baltimare quite like the classic 40 oz bottle of the strongest, cheapest cider in the city, wrapped in the equally classic “I Can Get Drunk Outdoors Legally” paper bag. Danger was about halfway through her third bottle before she started to feel something other than misery. Her aimless, drunken wandering somehow led her to the street corner facing her hotel, where Quin was quietly sulking over his own failure to meet his idol, holding a comically-large Baltimare souvenir syringe in a weak, shaky embrace. DC stumbles down beside him, two hopeless souls facing rock bottom.
“Want a swig?” Danger asks, holding up the paper-bag-that’s-totally-not-a-booze-bottle-officer-she-swears.
“That’s not heroin,” says Quin, between tears. “Only heroin will make me happy right now."
The pair are soon joined by their friends, fresh out of the restaurant and convention-bound. They tried to be as polite as possible towards DC, knowing that their opinions of what they saw during their meal was not worth bringing up. There were few words, beyond Eureka swiping her 40, taking a rather sizable swig, and passing a deadpan insult. It soon became obvious that DC wanted to be left alone, and the group decided to respect her indirect wishes and continue on. As they made their distance, Rowback turned back and approached her.“Hey, uh, I know you probably don’t want to think about it,” he said, “But I managed to get Mando’s autograph for you. Here.”
From his saddlebag, Rowback takes out a piece of paper and hands it over. DC fights her urge to toss it aside for a more sober viewing the following morning and takes a look at what her friend had gotten for her. This piece of paper is not the ordinary looseleaf or collector’s edition autograph card she was expecting. No, this was something different…. a form of some kind. It’s a form for a court motion…. wait. It’s a restraining order. Mando autographed a restraining order… against DC. Strangely enough, she didn’t have the normal reaction of someone finding out their idol is so discomforted by them that they're no longer allowed within a predetermined distance. In fact she was… happy-- ecstatic, even. She had, in her hooves, a piece of paper with her and Mando’s name, and he signed it. It wasn't exactly the most ideal situation to get someone’s autograph, sure, but that that point, she was willing to settle for anything. In a fit of drunken excitement, she took to the air, doing a few sloppy spirals of joy before setting back down.
“THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU!” she exclaimed, to Rowback’s shock. “I’M GONNA HAVE THIS FRAMED AND I’M GONNA KEEP IT FOREVER AND EVER!”
-fin-
