The streets rang with the voices of busy ponies going about their day. This was nothing out of the ordinary for Manehattan, the city that never sleeps. The setting sun cast the town in yellow light, giving the proud Mare Harmony standing in the bay a golden shine. The main avenues were packed to the brim with citizens and tourists, leaving those not used to so much noise with only the alleys to traverse.
Strolling along one such path was a pony clad in a silver cloak. A black ring surrounded with eight arrows going in every direction was printed on the back. A deep blue, squared off jaw stuck out from beneath the hood, acting as the only hint towards the stallion's gender. The top of the hood's opening hung around a horn of the same color as his snout. His muzzle was adorned with a relaxed grin.
'Well, that was a pleasant day. Awoke to lightly chirping birds, had a nice breakfast, found an old amulet to look over later, and made it to Manehattan. It's a bit loud, but I've heard worse. Wonder if anything else worthwhile will happen today?' he pondered. A scream echoed through the abandoned back roads followed by a heavy thud. 'Hmm, ask and you shall receive I guess. Maybe I should keep my big brain-mouth shut.' The idea made him pause.
"Nah," he whispered to himself. "That would just be weird." His choice made, he trotted off to find the source of all the commotion. And perhaps a water fountain. He was getting quite thirsty.
"Someone help!" a mare yelled. She was bound tightly with rope, pinning all four of her legs to her white furred barrel. Her light blue and white striped mane hung around her head, dripping with sweat. Her body was laying over the shoulders of a heavyset pony with brown fur. A puff of hot air escaped his nostrils, showing his lack of patience with his unwilling passenger.
"Shut it, girly," piped a nasally voice. It's owner was a much shorter, yet still rather stout, pony walking alongside his partner. "The boss wants some new meat to market and we're getting him some. I'm pretty sure he wouldn't mind if we tenderized it a bit, if you catch my drift. The clients usually do it themselves enough anyway." Her irises shrunk to the size of pinheads as she swallowed a heavy lump in her throat.
"You'd actually hit a lady, short stuff?" someone asked from around the next corner. The silver cloaked pony stepped into their path, still wearing his lazy smile.
"Who do you think you are, hot shot?" the smaller one asked.
"I believe I'm Psijic Carver. I also think I either just walked in on one kinky party and should probably leave or that I just found a kidnapping and should probably do something about it." A snort of laughter filled the alley. "Oh who am I kidding? I know it's not the former. You two have common thug written all over you."
"Who are you calling common thugs, string bean?" growled the larger stallion in a fittingly deep tone. "We're nothing short of Father Geo's top henchmen on our way to deliver this young thing to the next team up ahead and deserve to be addressed as such." He received a whack to the back of the head for his efforts.
"You dolt!" yelled the other. "Now he knows what we're up to! What's next, are you gonna tell him how there's three of 'em and how you have to knock three times for them to open the door?" Realizing his mistake, he quickly covered his mouth, hoping their guest didn't hear.
"Wow, you two really aren't bright, are you?" he asked, struggling to talk around his rampant giggling. "How you made it to top henchmen is something I'll never know. Maybe this Geo fellow just stinks at choosing lackeys."
"You smug...!" the big one roared. He bucked the poor mare off his back before charging the wise guy who thought it was smart to mess with him.
Psijic, not missing a beat, reached to his right side, parting the front of his cloak in the process. His left hoof was bare, ruffling through the brown bag hanging from his belt on his right. A small tuft of fur poked out above the rest just below where the cloak tied around his neck. His right hoof rested inside of what looked like a stone boot. The front rose to a point, below which was a clear gem. Further down a small, square opening could be found, though not deep enough to see the hoof beneath it.
Finding what he was looking for, he pulled his leg back, a stone tile held in hoof. It clung to his body like a magnet. He quickly placed the tile in the hole in his boot, revealing a carving of a thunderbolt on the front as he retracted his hoof.
"Spark!" he yelled, his smile growing larger, teeth now showing. "Goodnight Manehattan!" The gem began glowing yellow as his footwear was enveloped by a blue-green aura. It wasn't long until electricity began coating his right leg, stretching all the way up to his shoulder. As the raging brute grew closer, oblivious to the change in his target, the storm shrouded defender rolled his shoulder ever so slightly forward.
When they could see the white in each other's eyes, Psijic made a small charge of his own, planting the top of his leg on his potential assaulter's chest. A searing pain flooded his mind, the error in his judgment becoming clear. He could feel his fur burning off, the top layer of skin following suite.
Feeling merciful, the man slid beneath the suffering thug, flinging him over his back soon after. He landed a few feet away, his chest now sporting bright red burns. Knowing his chances, the remaining kidnapper tried to make himself scarce, sprinting towards the main street in order to slip out unseen. Unfortunately, the odd stallion had a fairly sharp eye. Closing one eye, he lined his hoof up with the fleeing thug.
"Bang," he said, a single bolt leaving his body. It hit home on the criminal's flank, sending him tumbling as his muscles locked up. "Bull's eye!" he cheered, satisfied with his shot. The tile in his boot cracked before bursting into a small puff of dust. "You served your purpose well." Satisfied with the state of the would be abductors, he turned his attention to the abductee.
"Pardon me, miss, but I noticed these ropes are digging into your skin a bit. Here, let me give you a hoof with them." He began undoing the knots on the mare's binding, being careful not to agitate the already irritated areas anymore.
"Thanks, Mr. Carver, but I'm not sure how long it'll last," she replied. A red ring flashed on her neck. "They tagged me with one of those homing beacon things. Their boss knows where I am." Getting the last layer off, he looked her in the eye.
"First, you're welcome. Second, just call me Psijic. Or Psi, either one works. Third, I know just how to take care of that nasty little thing, but we'll need somewhere more secure than this, preferably underground." The mare looked around.
"I know I'll regret this, but you mean like the sewers?" she asked, pointing out a nearby metal cover.
"Bingo!" he said. "Good eye, miss. I'll head down first, make sure there isn't anything down there. I'll let you know if it's clear."
The duo found themselves in a small room to the side of the main canal. The smell didn't reach this place, much to the mare's joy. Psijic was busying himself drawing strange shapes on the ground with chalk procured from the same pouch as the stone tile.
"It'll take a bit to finish up these runes. Why don't you tell me about yourself? It should help keep your mind off of... current events," he suggested.
"Okay," she said, voice still shaky from her rough evening. "My name is Coco Pommel, a student at Manehattan University. I'm working for a degree in dressmaking."
"A fashionista in training, eh?" he inquired. "I've heard that industry has been heating up lately thanks to a designer over in Ponyville. What was their name? I'm thinking Elusive, but I'm not sure."
"Oh no, that's not it at all!" Coco replied, now excited. Psi was pleased to hear that nervousness leave her tone. "Her name is Rarity, and her work is nothing short of awe inspiring."
"Sounds like someone has an idol," he noted.
"She's the whole reason I'm where I am now," she explained. "Back in high school, I didn't know what to do with myself. I was just going from class to class, hoping that I would find something before I graduated. Then, during my senior year, I saw it." Her eyes lit up with excitement.
"A line of her work hit the front page of every magazine. When I saw it, it was like someone flipped a switch. Everything was so beautiful. I couldn't find the right words to describe them. I knew that one day, I wanted to make something so magnificent myself one day. That's when I got my cutie mark," she said, pointing at the fancy hat on her flank.
"A dream is always a good thing to have. Don't let go of it. Sometimes it's all that keeps you going," Psi said. His eyes drooped a bit, but his grin didn't budge. "Alright, this should do it." As the last symbol was finished, a blue glow rose from the floor. Coco couldn't help but notice that his horn never lit up once, leaving her confused how it was possible to do this without magic. "No one should be able to track you so long as you're in this room." He stood up, apparently preparing to leave.
"Wait, where are you going?" she asked, worried her only guard was about to bail on her.
"Don't worry," he replied. "I'm just going to go find this Geo guy and lodge a complaint. I'll let the cops know where you are when I'm done. Just stay here for now, where it's safe." Her muscles relaxed at the news that she was still covered.
"I don't know what to say. Is there anything I can do to pay you back?" she asked, wanting to show her gratitude.
"Just one. Live your dream," he answered. "You have a clear goal in mind. I want you to finish your education, go out there, and make a name for yourself. I hope to hear about the new Pommel line of clothing taking the fashion world by storm. I helped you keep your life so you can do something with it. I know you won't let me down." The last she saw of him was that grin.
"Thank you, Psi. Thank you," she whispered, eyes watering.
The room was dark, its inhabitants irritable. They were waiting since dusk for their bone-headed underlings to arrive with a gift for their boss. And those two thought they were the best, ha. If that were the case, they wouldn't still be sitting around here at nearly midnight. They were about to start up the thirtieth round of poker when three sharp knocks rang at the door.
"Finally," one of them said, sucking at a cigar. "It's about time they got here. Better have a good reason for being late. And a cute catch." As he undid the locks on the door, more knocking sounded from the other side.
Knock knock knock knock knock, knock bang!
The final knock was accompanied with the solid steel door flying off its hinges, taking the unsuspecting watchmen with it. It slammed into the far wall, falling to reveal the stallion was out cold. The other two hurried to their feet, knowing they've been found. To their shock, it wasn't a group of heavily armed guards with a battering ram, but a single unicorn whose skin looked like polished stone. The gem on his boot shined with brown light, and the tile beneath it had a carving of a ring with a small square inside etched on the front.
"Special delivery!" Psi announced. "One fresh flank kicking with a side of sweet, savory karma!"
'That one liner felt great! Thanks brain,' he thought to himself.
The remaining mooks went the tried and true route of charging the weird element pony like a hoofball player. Too bad he had the same idea. Psi thundered forward, each hoofstep rumbling like the engine of a locomotive. When they saw the living steam train that was their assailant in action, they knew they had messed up. All they could do was stop and turn around before the collision, sending one through the couch and the other through the wall and into an abandoned stove.
"All aboard the pain train!"
'That one wasn't so good. Keep trying, brain, you'll get it eventually.' His thinking was stopped short by his tile breaking and the transformative effect reversing, turning him back to flesh. 'That was fun. Note to self, find way to shift the earthskin rune to be longer lasting for transportation. It could be a lifesaver if I ever find myself in a desert.' He was once again interrupted by the body in the sofa groaning, letting him know one of his foes was awake. He stepped over to the stallion, looming over him.
"Hello, sir. I would normally be trying to put you back to sleep, but I have an offer for you."
"Y-yeah? What offer?" he asked, fully invested in not being run over again.
"It's very simple. You tell me where I can find Geo and I just tie you to that railing. I could hit you again if that's what you prefer." He reached for the pouch on his side to prove his point.
"Okay, deal, deal! Just don't step on me."
Psi opened the well crafted door ahead of him, finding a completely darkened room on the other side. He waltzed in, reflexes ready in case he gets jumped.
'Pretty sure this is the place. Here's hoping that guy was being honest. Would be real rotten if he wasn't.' His worries were dispelled as a single lamp turned on, lighting up a desk at the far side of the room. Seated there was a somewhat rotund gentlecolt in a nice suit. He was putting out a cigar as he addressed his guest.
"You must be the guy who went and put some of my men out of commission," he said, his expression neutral.
"And you must be Geo. Good. Guess this means that guy was holding his end of the deal," he replied, seemingly relieved he wasn't tricked.
"Nonchalant in the face of a challenge. I'm impressed. Makes me all the more happy to extend a job offer," Geo said, letting himself smile.
"A job you say? So all someone has to do is best a few underlings to get hired?" he questioned.
"Someone who isn't spooked off at the thought of a little dirty work is just who I'm looking for," he explained. "Your job would be simple. Just bring me some choice mares for the stables and I'll put you in charge of all my hunters. Every trophy will mean a big cash bonus for you. What do you say?"
"Wait. By stables do you mean some sort of forced prostitution establishment?" Psi asked, his grin faltering.
"No need to sugar coat it like that, but yeah. It brings in a lot of cash. Besides, it's not like they're good for much more than that. They've been too full of themselves lately anyway. Darn Princesses and their pro gay marriage stance. They've been running wild ever since. I say they need taught their place, right?" he asked, not realizing he said too much.
Psi was shaking in his spot. Gone was his grin, now replaced with grit teeth. He raised his head high enough for his hood to fall back, showing his face. His ears were easily as tall as his face, doubling his height from the neck up. Raising his height more was his mane. It stuck up even further beyond his ears, coming up to several points like the characters of those neighponese cartoons. The bulk of it was a slightly lighter shade than his fur, and it was surrounded by a slightly shorter layer of pale green hair. His eyes were somewhere between blue and green and scowled at Geo.
"I have the intense desire to mutilate you now, so I think I will," he said, voice sounding course like he was trying to not yell.
"Not one for male pride I see. That's a shame. No matter." More lights came on, revealing a dozen guards armed with blades and assault rifles. "Make one move I don't like and they'll make cheese out of you."
"First of all, this isn't male pride, it's misogyny. Second, I don't really care. I'm still going to tear you apart," he said.
In the first second, he reached for his pouch and the guards raised their weapons. In the second, he pulled another tile from a smaller compartment as the guards aimed. The third, the guards grasped the triggers of their firearms as the tile was placed in its slot. On its surface was a ring surrounded with eight arrows going every direction.
At that moment, the fight was halfway over.
Guards swarmed the area. They had been searching for the headquarters of crime lord Geo for months, and, thanks to a tip from a man hiding behind the shroud of night, they found it. Beyond that, they arrived to find every criminal on the property disabled and all of the captives released from their cages. In the light of the rising sun, the mares could only address their savior as an odd gentlecolt in a silver cloak.
The head of the Manehattan Guard was baffled. How could one unicorn take out a crime ring he had been hunting for so long? He was interrupted by his second in command.
"Sir, I've recorded as much as I could, but I think there's something you would find interesting. The state of Geo's office at the time of discovery."
"Proceed," he ordered, curious what could be so interesting.
"When the first responders arrived, they found Geo and twelve of his bodyguards all disabled as well as a thin coat of blood on the ground between each of them as well as a spot just in front of the door. The guards all had multiple broken bones, specifically their legs, and unicorns and pegasi had their horns and wings damaged respectively."
"And Geo? What of him?" he asked, wishing to know what state the head of operations was in.
"Well, I don't think he's much of a 'he' anymore," he responded. Most males in the area caught the implication, instinctively clasping their back legs together. "There was a letter left on the desk, most likely from the unicorn behind all of this, addressed specifically to, and I quote, 'whoever is in charge around here.'"
"Let me see it," he ordered. He figured it would be some sort of taunt from some stuck up vigilante declaring his superiority. He read the note slowly and carefully, just in case there was some sort of hidden message.
Dear whoever is in charge around here,
I figured I should explain myself a bit. If you think I'm some sort of routine crime fighter, don't. I'm much more of a scholar than a comic book character. At least in my mind. I was just helping out a mare I found being taken by some of George's goons. Oh, and you'll find her hiding in the sewers beneath the enclosed address. Her name is Coco Pommel and she's been through a lot, so you might want to hurry. She's in a magic barrier I put up so they couldn't track her while I was out, so don't be too cautious of the blue ring around her.
Here's hoping these guys get what they deserve. This kind of stuff is something I can't tolerate. Can you believe George actually thought I was going to take a job from him? For a crime lord, he was as dull as his minions. Had as loose of lips as them too. I figured that the proper treatment for someone as biased against mares as him was being one. Hopefully whoever gets here first isn't weak of heart. Anyway, good luck with all the legal stuff. You can go ahead and take the official credit. I don't really care. Sorry I couldn't stick around, but I'm a bit busy. Places to go, things to do, you know the gist. Good day to you and your men.
From, a thirsty traveler.
P.S.: If someone stitches George back together, I'll gladly take him apart again. I don't care for him, not one bit.
The captain stood there for a minute, thinking about what he just read.
"Sir, are you okay?" the second in command asked.
"Yes, I'm fine. Here," he replied, handing him the extra slip of paper. "Send a small rescue team to this location. They'll find a mare down in the sewers there. Make sure she gets her health checked, then send her to me. I want to talk with her."
"Sir, yes, sir!" he said, making for the nearby ambulance to spread the message. The captain found himself smiling for the first time that day.
"It's good to see some ponies prefer decency over fame."
Author's Note
Thanks for taking the time to give this a read. Notice any flaws? Find anything you especially liked? Let me know in the comments below. Feedback is a big part of how writers grow. Thanks again and have a wonderful day.
