In society, alley bars are seen as quite unsavory and were thought to harbor ne'er-do-wells and criminals alike, along with being kind of gross. Many an honest barkeep were shunned by the polite public and had to deal with less than honest customers. However, if one looks hard enough, and shuffles a few bits around, they can find certain diamonds in the rough, and they will turn your night from hell to drunk hell in no time. But, no one likes a bar filled to the brim with drunkards or rich nobles smuging it up, so they dig deeper and find the best of the best.

The Tap Shack was not one of these places.

But Tyrian, the bars most frequent customer, liked to see it as one. He thought Manehattan was far better off with it than without. All the other patrons, criminals as he was, came for a drink and work, a luxury for the underworld. Tyrian would usually buy a round for him and his closest friend, who happens to be the owner of The Tap Shack. Today, however, he was not in the mood for a drink.

"Oi, Ty, you gettin' anythin' or ya jus' gonna sleep?" drawled the cockney giant himself, Red Tap.

"Mwrphin wermprn" said Tyrian, who was making first base with the bar itself.

" 'ow about the special?" Red offered.

Shaking his head, Tyrian raised his hand and pointed behind Red.

"Straigh' 'ta work, eh? Alrigh' le's have a look 'ere" He turned on his heel a took out a small black box, opened the lock with a key and looked inside.

"One 'ere from Bedlam, but I know your opinion on 'im" Red chuckled at the groan from Tyrian.

Red started sorting through all the letters in the box, about a dozen or so, which made it a slow week at the bar. The summer solstice quickly approaching was putting most of the plans in the underground on halt, as even some of the worst of the worst like a holiday every now and then. Tyrian was an exception, bringing the worst of him out to play.

Many a nose had been broken during the last Summer Sun Celebration, and Tyrian had a rep to keep up.

Tyrian raised his head, his brown hair falling back into it's normal, messy state. Tyrian started combing through his hair, making it slightly less tattered looking but stopped when he noticed Red Tap stiffen at the sight of the last letter in the box.

"Red? You all right?"

"The royal stamp." Red said flatly.

The patrons behind Tyrian hushed up quite a bit at that, and Tyrian felt all their stares burn a hole in him and Red.

"I'm sorry? Did you sa-"

"It's for you." Red interrupted sharply, confusion turning into irritation very quickly.

"Hey, now big guy, it's not-" Tyrian's head and the bar made contact once again, but much more violently this time.

"You rat! I had you pegged from the start." A calloused hand gripped Tyrian's hair, and breath reeking of whiskey wafted over him.

"Hey, Swift, how's your night going?" Tyrian drawled through his broken nose.

"Swell, until I heard you was a rat bastard." Swift Raze growled.

"You ass, if I was a rat, you'd think I'd sit here and wait till I was found out?"

"Maybe not, but I see a wax stamp and your name next too it. Pretty damning, I think." Swift laughed darkly.

"Yeah, it is, and I can't explain it, so if you're gonna kill me, do it already and stop breathing on me." Tyrian gritted his teeth.

"Your wish..." Swift grinned.

Tyrian felt a cold point trail up his back.

"...Is my command"

~~~

Tyrian hopped off the train, setting his foot into the city of Canterlot, capital of the nation.

He had only been here once before on a job, one he was not very proud of, but it had set him up with a nice nest egg in case he needed to leave, which he did. Walking in stride, he passed numerous shops that caught his eyes, as well as a few passersby's, but nothing worth chasing after, he didn't need another tryst with Canterlot's biggest stars.

Tyrian wondered what Hoity Toity was up too nowadays. And, of course, Hoity Toity brought to mind Fluer de Lis, the model that could make the stars stand still and stare. Sighing through the nostalgia, Tyrian slowed to a halt at the sight of a few guards approaching him with less than joyful expressions on their faces.

Tyrian put on his innocent smile and waved, causing the lead to scowl deeper, much to his enjoyment.

"Halt. Name and your purpose here." The lead guard boomed.

"Oh, well, the names Tyrian, nice to meet you by the way," Tyrian grinned sincerely.

The guard did not respond and only waited for the second half of his explanation. The two guards behind him, seemingly newer to the position, let their shoulders drop in both confusion and amusement.

"and for my purpose here," Tyrian reached into his coat pocket and pulled out the letter that he had begun to hate.

"This." His smile grew wider.

The guard visibly flinched at the sight of the seal. The pair in the back glanced at each other disconcertingly.

"Forgive my rudeness, sir, I was not aware you'd be arriving this soon." The guard bowed his head slightly, but his eyes did not break contact with Tyrian's.

"Not a problem, my friend. Just point me in the right direction." Tyrian pocketed the letter back into his grey coat.

"Yes sir, keep heading down this road until you reach the castle gates and show the seal to the men there, and they'll bring you to the throne room." He pointed down the street and towards the white and gold tower above the rest of the city.

"Thanks, I'll be on my way then." Tyrian strode past the trio, until he turned on his heel.

"I'm sorry, but what is your name, if you please?"

"Lieutenant Shining Armor, sir." Shining nodded.

"Shining Armor. I'll remember that." Tyrian chuckled before turning back, whistling as he went.

It was a solid minute before any of the soldiers spoke.

"That was him, wasn't it." Gunny asked.

"Faust, he sounded so normal but so strange at the same time." Sky Spark said under her breath.

Shining Armor suppressed a shiver from an invisible wind. A few paranoid thoughts rushed through his head, but they were quickly squashed under the biggest concern he had.

They had just let the killer of the entire Manehattan underground walk past them.

Author's Note

This being my first story on the site, I hope the criticism will refine and adapt my writing style.
That being said, feel free to leave any constructive criticism in the comments.

P.S: The cover art is a placeholder (closest thing I could find that at least somewhat resembles Tyrian) and if anyone feels like sketching/finding a shaggy haired 26 year old in similar clothing, less armor specifically and head accessories, I would GREATLY appreciate it.