inFAMOUS: Second Stallion

A spray paint can rattled as Delsin Pone shook it with a dark grey hoof, he adjusted his red beanie before getting to work. Black lines of paint were sprayed over the canvas stencils he taped to the billboard. Once a stencil was complete he would remove it. He repeated this process several times, all the while his mouth was stuck in a smug grin and his wings shivered excitedly at his sides.

After a few minutes, he took a step back to admire his handiwork. The Pony on the billboard, his brother Reggie Pone, had suddenly acquired a thick black monocle and a bushy handlebar mustache. He chuckled to himself, “Beautiful. You’ve really outdone yourself this time Dels-”

“Hey! You! What do you think you’re doing!?”

Uh-oh…

Delsin turned slowly towards the familiar voice, revealing a tan stallion with a striking resemblance to the pony on the billboard. Only, this one was missing the eyewear and facial hair. “Heh-hey Reggie… How you doin today? Bro…”

Reggie narrowed his eyes, “Delsin, get down here…”

Delsin’s eyes darted around nervously. Suddenly he raised his hoof to his face, as if looking at a watch, “H-hey! Gosh, look at the time. Sorry officer I gotta go!” He reared back on his hind legs and galloped to the end of the billboard, leaping down to the building below. He extended his wings as far as they could go in order to catch the breeze and slow his fall, as they were far too small to provide actual flight.

He raced across the rooftop, jumping over pipes until he reached the far back. He jumped, hind legs landing on the metal lid of a dumpster. He pushed off, bringing his hind legs over his head in a front flip, he ended the flip with a roll, rising to his hooves to continue his escape.

His legs carried him to a familiar building decorated with colorful carvings and paints. He raced to the side, finding a fire-escape that led to the roof. From there he made his way to a rooftop entrance, sliding his way into the vertical hatch and dropping down onto a balcony that made up the second floor of the Longhouse.

“Hello? Is someone there?”, a familiar voice made Delsin wince. He glanced over the balcony and down to the familiar face below.

“Hey Betty…”, he sighed when he saw the old buffalo. She was shorter than most other buffalo, but still had that kind of sturdy look that the rest of her kind. She had been glancing around warily from the open door of a small office, a stapler of all things in her hoof, raised to defend.

He made his way to the stairs, taking them two at a time. “Betty, put the stapler down”, he said as he got closer.

Betty responded by putting the stapler in a bad fastened around her flank and sighing, “Oh, Delsin, it’s you.” She turned to walk back into her office, Delsin followed her, “Well, what do you want? You’re lucky, this is one of my less busy days. Usually I only have one stack of mail to go through…”

Bang! Bang! Bang!

“Delsin! I know you’re in there! Come out here yourself or I’m coming in! Don’t make me break down Betty’s door!”

The Buffalo narrowed her eyes, “What did you do this time…” Her voice was tired, as if this wasn’t the first time an officer had knocked on her door in search of the smoky grey pony.

Delsin sat down and brought his hooves together in front of his face, “I just need an alibi Betty. This is the last time I swear.”

Both glanced at the door as it rattled a second time, “Delsin! Last warning, then I’m coming in!”

Betty sighed, “Do what you have to. I believe that I hear the phone in my office ringing with a very important phone call.” She walked back to her office.

Delsin grinned “Thanks Betty, you're the best.” He turned towards the door, smile slowly melting off his face for a moment.

The door swung open and Delsin grinned to his brother, “Hey man, what’s up?”

Reggie frowned at him, “You know very well what’s up…” He held up a pair of cuffs.

Ok, plan A has failed…

Time for plan B…

“Reggie Come on man! Are you really gonna be that cop that arrests your own brother?”

“I will if my brother vandalizes every large flat object he sees.”

“It’s not vandalism, It’s art.”

“It is too vandalism, now put the cuffs on.”

Suddenly Delsin’s ears flattened against his head under his hat, “Reggie?” His brother looked up from the cuffs he was about to put on his brother’s forelegs.

“What is it now, Delsin?”, he huffed.

Delsin only pointed, his pupils becoming pinpricks of fear, “T-Truck!”

Reggie turned to watch a flaming military truck barrel down the road towards them at terrifying speeds. Just before it flipped and continued it’s path towards them on it’s side.