The Serious Situation Involving the Stolen Studio Equipment

Everything seemed absolutely normal to Peacevic as he opened the door to the studio.

Until Vinyl Scratch ran to meet him, shades missing, her eyes slightly frantic. "P-Vic, it's gone! It's all gone!"

"Calm down, Vinyl." He soothed. "Chill. Now tell me, what is gone?"

"Everything! The mics, the mix boards, they even took the extra cables! Buck!"

Peacevic took a seat in the lobby. His collaborator was right to panic. Without all that stuff, he couldn't record. DJ Pon-3 couldn't provide her always-fresh beats. And there was another, worse thing. "We have to get that stuff back, Vinyl. Octavia's coming in two days."

"Octy's coming here? To work with you?" Vinyl was nearly bowled over by that.

Peacevic scowled at her. "We can be professional."

"Sure, sure." She nodded. "Okay, so we call the police."

"No way."

"Why not?" Vinyl demanded.

"If Octavia hears about this, she's not going to come at all." He replied. "You know how she is. I'll find out who stole our stuff."

Vinyl pointed a hoof at him, pointedly. "You?"

"Hey, I helped solve a murder." He said defensively.

Vinyl tilted her head to the side. "You did?"

"You did?"

They both turned in the direction of the new voice. Standing at the door was a grey-green pegasus with a platinum mane and tail. A single streak of red fell down the right side of her mane, with one of black running down her tail. She had a satchel slung on one shoulder and carried a small recorder in a hoof.

She was also barely old enough to be called a mare.

She smiled. "Not the best time to be reminded about your interview, is it?"

Peacevic had indeed forgotten about that, mostly because he'd agreed to it a few weeks ago. He didn't care then, and now he definitely had more important things to worry about. "Yeah, we're going to have to cancel that, Miss..."

"Soft Lob, and why in Equestria would we cancel?"

"I'm kind of in the middle of something." Peacevic was starting to regret giving Ice the morning off. The big guy was great at repelling reporters.

"Exactly!" Soft Lob's eyes were so lit up that they were almost blinding. "Action! Intrigue! Famous people! This article's going to rock!"

Peacevic facehoofed. "You're new, aren't you?"

"Uh... yeah. This will be my first article. How could you tell?"

"Well, setting aside the fact that you look like you're late for class, you actually think I'm going to be cooperative." He pointed at the door. "I'm not. Go away."

Soft Lob started to respond, but Peacevic just motioned for Vinyl to follow him and walked out of the lobby.

Vinyl hadn't been kidding when she told him they'd been cleaned out. The recording area was almost entirely bare, the ransackers ripping some of the outlets off the walls in their haste. They even tracked some mud on the carpets.

Luckily.

"See! Everything's gone!"

"Well you can calm down now, Vinyl. I've already solved the case. I know who did it." He flashed a grin her way.

Soft Lob's voice came from the hallway. "Really?!"

"Are you still here?" Peacevic poked his head out of the room to check.

She was indeed still there, and she nodded vigorously to reinforce that fact. "Yep. Everypony says I'm nothing if not persistent."

"Focus, Peacevic." Vinyl tugged him telekinetically back into the recording room by his tail. "She'll go away if you ignore her. Now, how do you know who did it?"

"Easy. The hoofprints." He pointed them out.

"Wow. You've successfully deduced that one or more of the vandals is a pony." Vinyl seemed suitably impressed.

Peacevic didn't let her negativity get him down. "Yeah, I did. And I only know one pony who branded his own hoof."

"Wait, what?" The DJ reexamined the tracks. "Oh, you're right. This one has something on it."

"So what are you going to do now?" Soft Lob stuck her head through the door to ask.

"Vinyl, you be here in two days. I should have the stuff back by then." He didn't turn to look at the reporter. "I'm going to go take a nap. I've got a show to catch tonight."

The show was packed, for one of its kind. The fact that the tickets were dirt cheap probably helped.

"Peacevic, over here!" A bubbly hoof waved at him above the crowd.

As Soft Lob made her way through the throngs of ponies, Peacevic tried to wrap his head around her presence. "Wha- how? I specifically didn't tell you where I was going!"

"Have you seen me?" She gestured at herself. "Of course I'm in to death metal. Have you checked out the pit yet? It's bucking crazy! Pretty sure I cracked a hoof."

He supposed it wasn't too shocking. She did have the look, and the audience for death metal was predominately pegasi.

"Oi! Oo let dat knob inere?!"

"Just the pony I was looking for." Peacevic murmured to himself as he turned to face the wiry whipcord of a white pegasus who'd shouted. Then he shouted back. "Flying Tooth! So glad to see you haven't gotten over that whole 'Trottingham lower class' thing yet."

Flying Tooth came out of his seat at that, to the chagrin of the twin mares flanking him. "You takin' de piss? Owbout I come over dere and rip dat orn off yeread!?"

"Simmer down, stick figure." Peacevic crossed over to stand in front of Tooth's table. "I'm just looking for your drummer. Where's Death Hoof?"

"Aven't seen Deaf since we chuckedim out de group, and even if I `ad I bloody well wouldn't tell you, would I?"

Soft Lob had been fidgeting from the moment she saw Flying Tooth and, finally, she couldn't restrain herself anymore. "Mr. Tooth, I have to say I'm a huge, huge fan! Can I have your autograph!?"

"Are you really a fan of his?"

"Uh, duh!" She gushed. "He's only the most brutal screamer in the entire scene, bar none."

Peacevic narrowed his eyes in annoyance. "You weren't this hyped to meet me."

She shrugged. "I'm sure you're good at what you do, too. I just don't listen to rap."

"`Oo's de girl?" Tooth cut in. "Little young, innit she?"

"She writing an article on me. You know, 'cause ponies actually care about my genre of music. Besides, you're one to talk. You sure they're legal?" Peacevic pointed to the two grey pegasi on either side of Tooth.

"Yeah." Then Flying Tooth looked concerned and turned to the mare on his left. "Right?" She nodded, but he frowned and shooed the two away. They shot a few daggers at Peacevic as they left.

But with them gone, Flying Tooth visibly relaxed. He even offered their seats to the two still-standing ponies. Peacevic took the one on the right and leaned toward his only lead. "Look Tooth, if anypony gets the loyalty thing, it's me. But your buddy stole a bunch of studio equipment from me, and I need to get it back before Octavia gets here."

"You tellin' me Octavia's coming ta Canterlot ta record wit' you?" Tooth started laughing hysterically. "I'd bloody pay ta see dat! Bet'cha she starts chewing you out de second she walks dru de door."

Peacevic threw his hooves up in frustration. "Why does nopony think we can be professional?!"

"Cuz you bloody can't!" Tooth had one final laugh, then his mood sobered. "Last Ieard, Deaf wuz squirreled up in de ware'ouse district wit' some weirdo squatter community. E might still be dere. Now git outaere. My night's ruined cuza you."

At Flying Tooth's dismissive wave, they left. Peacevic chose to exit out the back, reasoning that they were less likely to be accosted by the general public if they went through the alley. Plus it would give him a chance to talk with his backup.

"No luck?" Ice shot over Soft Lob and circled Peacevic.

"No, he wasn't there." Peacevic was used to Ice doing this, and therefore he kept his head looking straight forward. "But Tooth was able to point us in the right direction, hopefully."

Ice seemed like he was going to say something else, but instead he stopped dead in front of Peacevic. He looked confused.

"The Troubadour..."

Peacevic snapped his head around in the direction Ice was facing. He hadn't heard anypony use that term since...

A shadowy pony stood a short distance down the alley, features obscured by a cloak. As Peacevic watched, two more similarly adorned ponies materialized beside the first. Another four blocked the way behind them.

"Sir, please advise."

"Not friendly, Ice." Peacevic moved Soft Lob so that she was between him and his bodyguard. "Definitely not friendly."

The cloaked ponies all menacingly stepped toward them.

"Well, well, well, wut do we aveere?"

All ten of them turned to see Flying Tooth, flanked by two of his bandmates, casually stroll into the alley. "I step out ta indulge some o' my vices and I come upon a row `bout ta break out. Quite lucky if ya ask me."

"There must be no witnesses to the sacrifice." The pony to the right of the first shadowy figure urgently stage-whispered to the apparent leader.

Leader-pony nodded. "Begone."

"Far be it from me ta interfere wit' a fair fight." Flying Tooth's ear had twitched when he heard the word 'sacrifice', but his face stayed smugly neutral. He point at Peacevic. "But dere ain't no way I'm missin' a chance ta see im getis plot kicked in. I'll stay right `ere."

Fair? Peacevic thought Tooth was overestimating their chances a little. Ice could take three at a time, and could escape if he needed to, but that still left four to overwhelm him and Soft Lob. The math didn't work out too well.

It's a good thing evil henchponies are usually really dumb.

The same jittery pony who'd spoken up earlier burst out yet again. "Why don't you go and play your black metal someplace else!"

Peacevic sucked his teeth. "Exact wrong thing to say."

"Black metal?!" Tooth's eyes blazed with rage. "Black metal?! You dink I'm wunna dose emo tossers?! Nah, de game's changed now." He looked the rapper's way. "Peacevic, looks ta me like dere's room in your lineup if de lady reporter sits out. Mind if me and my boys step in?"

"I won't say no."

And like that, Tooth dove at the nearest cloaked pony. The fight was on.

It may have been even, from a numbers perspective, but the fight was far from fair. To fight a pegasus, you have to be prepared to fight a pegasus. This means being ready to receive an attack from any of five different directions. Now, maybe the cloaked ponies were up for facing Ice.

But they were in no way ready for a death metal band.

In short order almost all of the shadow ponies were on the ground, some with cracked jaws and broken ribs. A glow emanated from under the hood of the final cloak-filler, most likely coming off a horn, and the beaten ponies faded away. The victors stood alone in the alley, panting from the exertion.

"Peacevic..."

"Yeah, yeah, I know." The rapper interrupted. "You didn't do it for me, we're not friends. Blah blah blah."

Tooth shook his head. "Obviously. Dat's not wut I wanted ta ask. You really goin' back in de studio?"

"Yeah."

"So soon? Aintcha worried `bout oversaturation?"

Peacevic shrugged. "Not really. I have a bigger market, so I can afford to put more out."

After thinking on that for a bit, Tooth gave a shrug of his own and left, his bandmates in tow. Peacevic turned his attention to Soft Lob.

"What was that?" She asked.

Peacevic shot a glance in the direction Flying Tooth had gone. "Three parts competitive nature, two parts stylistic rivalry, and one part artistic camaraderie."

"No, I mean who were those ponies?" Soft Lob was obviously shaken, as anypony would be after being attacked in an alley. Anypony who wasn't crazy or used to it. Or both. "Why'd they attack you?"

It was a natural question to ask, but that didn't mean Peacevic had to answer it. "That's none of your business. If you try to print a word of what happened just now, I'll deny it and sue your magazine. Your career will be over before it begins."

"Sir, I feel this is something I should know-"

"I'll brief you later." Peacevic snapped. "For now, let's get to that stupid warehouse."

Over the objections of his bodyguard, who thought that it was too dangerous, Peacevic boldly marched into the ware house Flying Tooth had told them about. If his hunch was right, it'd be deserted. If not... well that's why he had Ice with him.

Unfortunately, his hunch was a correct one.

There was nopony around, though it was clear from the mess that was a recent development. Bed rolls and cooking kits were scattered about. In the center of the building a barrel fire was dying down. A very familiar rune was painted on the western wall.

"Buck..." Peacevic whispered to himself. That same symbol.

Sir, all the equipment is here." Ice came to a halt when he saw what his employer was staring at. "What is that?"

"Something that should have been forgotten centuries ago."

Ice flitted closer to the giant rune. "It looks like Sun Writing, but I don't know what this one means."

"I was... forced to learn it. Back before I hired you. It'll be part of your briefing. Now stop looking at it." The rapper used his magic to turn Ice around.

"If that is painted in blood, this is going to be the best article ever!"

Peacevic and his bodyguard both looked at the grinning journalist. "I told you you're not allowed to write anything about this."

"Whatever, you're not my editor." She started to draw a rough sketch of the rune on a pad of paper she produced from her satchel.

"I'll sue." Peacevic wrenched the pad from her grasp and ripped it to shreds telekinetically. "You'll be out of a job!"

"And rolling in all the bits I'll make from the book deal."

Peacevic sighed. The night had been too long, violent, and retrospective for him to argue with her. "What do you want? What'll it take for you to ignore this stuff?"

"To ignore a story this juicy...?" Soft Lob pursed her lips. "I'm thinking exclusive access to your recording process."

"But that's-"

"The precious enigma you love so much, yes. But that's the price."

"Fine." He growled. "But on my terms."

"Excellent! See you in a couple days. Well, a day and a half. Technically." She waved and started to leave.

"Hold on, that's when-"

She nodded. "Yep. I'm going to be there when this Octavia shows up. From how everypony's been talking, this should be really interesting."

"You agreed to do this on my terms!" Peacevic protested.

"'On your terms' doesn't apply to this bit." She started to leave again. "Unless you want the whole country to hear about your problems with weirdo cult ponies."

Both rapper and bodyguard were silent for a few moments in the wake of her departure.

"You got beat by a reporter."

Shut up, Ice."

Peacevic was deliberately not talking to Soft Lob when Vinyl led Octavia into the studio.

"It's been a while, Octavia." He went to give the cellist a hug.

And she threw a stack of paper in his face. "I've been reading the lyrics. This is about us, isn't it?! You thought I was holding you back!"

"Dude, it's not about us, I swear."

"Don't 'dude' me, you- you-" She was so mad her brain couldn't keep up.

Vinyl leaned over. "Call him a cretin."

"You cretin!"

"Vinyl, you're not helping!"

"Hey, she's my roommate. I'm on her side." The DJ sarcastically patted Peacevic on his shoulder and walked over to stand by Soft Lob.

For her part, the reporter was looking confused. "Why is she so pissed?"

"They're divorced." Vinyl winked at her. "Arguing is just about all they do."

Lob's jaw dropped. "Peacevic was married?!"

"I'll have you know that if anypony was holding our relationship back, it's you! I'm ten times the artist you are!" Octavia jabbed a forehoof at Peacevic's chest.

"Oh really?! Who outsold who for the last three years running?"

Octavia scoffed. "You can't really consider album sales as a measure of artistic merit."

"You can if you believe art is something that should be enjoyed!" Peacevic stomped in frustration. It was an old argument.

"Guys, if I can interrupt?" Vinyl knew they were going to be here all day if she didn't step in. "Maybe we could get to work before we all die of old age. Or somepony calls the cops."

Silently, with glares abounding, everypony went to their places. Octavia and her cello stepped up to the mic, while Vinyl, Peacevic, and Soft Lob crammed into the control room. The reporter quickly whispered to Peacevic. "You and her? How did you two ever get married?"

He didn't answer. Actually, he couldn't. Him and Octavia had never been something that could be explained in more than two words.

Despite any animosity she may have felt, when tracking began Octavia transformed. Her performance was perfect on a technical level, and there wasn't a trace of stiffness. Objections over the lyrics aside, it was clear she'd been practicing.

Octavia nailed it on the first go, but they continued re-recording her bits for the next few hours. Finally, everypony was satisfied. Octavia and Soft Lob left Vinyl and Peacevic to work on the mix.

"I think that's it, Peace. First song's done."

"One more time. Just so we're sure." He hit play on the file marked 'Earthbound'.

Author's Note

Writing accents is hard. That said, I kind of like how Flying Tooth turned out.
Still no music for you guys. I'm too poor.