The Safety Bell was Silent

Chapter Two: In Which a Few Visits Are Made

Scarlet waited anxiously outside the door to the hospital room, kicking her legs as she leafed through one of the many magazines left for visitors and only half paying attention. She supposed it made sense that Floral Fragrance would end up here: close to her home, a little better equipped than most of the surrounding hospitals, and absolutely swarming with Clocktower Society members who would be well-trained to help her recover from the shock she was going through. You could certainly do worse than Ponyville General.

Fortunately, the staff could also be quite gullible. A sob story here, a mention of a family reunion there, and she had easily convinced everyone she had talked to so far that she was a cousin of the patient who desperately wanted to make sure her beloved family member was alright. Too easy.

Scarlet shifted uncomfortably in her chair as the minutes dragged by.

Really, it was only a half lie.

She should've waited until Perique could come too. The batpony's presence wasn't necessary for this kind of interview, but this hospital was too brightly lit, and smelled too much like disinfectant, and it was lonely.

Scarlet hated feeling lonely. "Lonely" was what happened when you got tired of being alone, opened your door to go look for company, and realized just how few ponies actually cared whether you were there in the first place. Scarlet didn't feel the need to open that door very often, and didn't care to think of what that said about her.

She tried to take the edge off by focusing on the magazine in her hooves, but "How Does Your Garden Grow?" was a blisteringly dull read and her brain already felt half-strangled. She gave up about halfway through a column on garden arrangements written by somepony fascinated by seashells and pebbles. Perhaps this was her karmic punishment for lying her way in.

Then the door to Floral's room opened, the nurse stepped out, and Scarlet realized she had been horribly wrong about what her karmic punishment was.

"I really should have known it was you the moment the receptionist told me that Floral had a cousin here to see her," Nurse Redheart sighed.

Scarlet ran through her list of potential strategies. Bluffing? Bad idea, her cover was now compromised. Panic and run? Attractive, but liable to attract the wrong kind of attention and also counterproductive to her end goals. Apologize? Too easy. Seduce the nurse? Maybe but that would likely involve her ending up in worse trouble than she was in already, Nurse Redheart knew how to use a cane.

In the absence of an actual strategy, her brain defaulted to a tried and tested time-filling maneuver. "Ummmm....."

"That's what I thought. Tell me, did you actually think this plan through, or did you just assume nopony was going to have a problem with you lying your way in to interrogate a patient who has just gone through a rather nasty shock?" Redheart asked, glaring at the smaller earth pony.

It occurred to Scarlet that discarding a solution as "too easy" was a great way to fail to solve a puzzle. "I'm... sorry?" she managed, wincing at how disingenuous it sounded, even to her.

Redheart rolled her eyes. "No, you aren't. You weren't sorry the last three times you lied your way in here to talk to a patient either. Frankly, I'm not sure you know how to be sorry."

Somewhere in the back of Scarlet's mind a tiny little voice spoke up, reminding her that crying in public right before questioning somepony was a bad idea. She paid attention to the voice and didn't cry. The noise she made instead was a stifled sniffle, if that.

If Nurse Redheart noticed, she didn't care. "You've done this one too many times, Scarlet Letter, and if it were up to me I'd ban you from the premises for breaching patient privacy. You could wind up causing serious pain to somepony someday, and I think you know that. What bothers me is you don't seem to care."

Crying was still a very bad idea. Making herself very small and looking straight at the ground was alright, though.

"And do you know what makes me angrier than anything?" Redheart asked, clearly winding up for her big finish. "What really bothers me?" She paused meaningfully.

Scarlet bit her lip. Was this a trick question? She'd left it hanging, it was definitely a trick question. Was it the kind of trick question you were supposed to answer? That was harder. "Ummmmm..."

Fortunately, Redheart continued of her own accord. "It's that I'm going to let you get away with it anyway."

"...why?"

"Why? Two reasons." Redheart was clearly enjoying her moment in the spotlight as she confidently strutted forward so her face was only a few inches from Scarlet's. "First, even if you lied to get away with it your questions do end up getting things found out that much faster." She left another meaningful pause after this sentence.

This time, Scarlet knew what her line was supposed to be. "And the second reason?"

"Because Floral Fragrance is my friend." With that, she turned on her hoof and marched away, her hoof-falls echoing through the corridor.

Scarlet looked at her own hooves and let a confused wave of emotions wash over her. When she was about thirty percent satisfied she wouldn't start crying, she steeled herself and walked into the open room.

Floral Fragrance looked much as the den mother had described her last night. About Scarlet's age—no, a bit younger. Her bubblegum-pink mane was fairly well in place despite her ordeal, speaking to the amount of care she must have put into maintaining it. And her cutie mark was certainly distinct—not many ponies around here with a special talent for scents. Scarlet focused, etching as many details as she could into her mind.

Marks just above her forehooves, deep scratches. Scarlet knew what welts from a crop or cane looked like, and these were different. Dark circles under her eyes—sleepless nights, which made sense. She was dealing with shock. And she wasn't responding quickly. Scarlet had been here for at least thirty seconds now, but Floral was only just now turning to see her. Not a great sign.

Floral raised her head from her pillow and regarded Scarlet with confusion. "You are...?"

Scarlet thought about her answer for a moment and decided on something that would hopefully help Nurse Redheart hate her a little less. "A friend. I think." She cantered forward and sat on her haunches, bringing her head level with Floral's. "I'm also in the Society, and I'm helping look for the pony who hurt you."

"Mmm." Floral looked away, refusing to meet Scarlet's eyes. The silence stretched out between them until it grew into a blanket that smothered them uncomfortably.

Scarlet shifted in place and tried again. "Do you... do you think you could talk about what happened?"

"Mmm."

No purchase. Scarlet bit her lip. Perique would have been able to do this much better, she should have sent her instead. "I..." she searched for something to say. Ponies were hard when they went quiet. "It's a good thing the griffon who found you could tell something was wrong, right?"

Floral reacted visibly for the first time, starting in surprise. "How did you know he was a griffon?"

Scarlet relaxed a bit. She had a reaction. Conversations got so much easier when there was a reaction. "These." She pointed to Floral's forehooves, indicating the marks. "I've been a sub long enough to know what burn marks from restraints and welts from crops look like. Those scratches are claw marks. Plus, I've been dating a griffon for a few years now." She felt a pang as she finished that last sentence. Gilda would also have been nice to have here with her—not as much help talking to a bedridden patient, but at least she would've helped her stand up to Nurse Redheart.

Floral, too, seemed to relax as she pulled her covers up over herself. "...I don't really remember anything from last night, if that's what you're asking about. The den mothers said I'd gone through a severe shock, and it might take time for everything to come back. If it even does."

Scarlet frowned. "So you can't remember who you talked to that night?"

"I remember putting on my collar after I got to the Society. After that, it's all a blur. Grant found me in the Borderlands and he said he could tell I was out of it as soon as he pounced on me. I vaguely remember him calling Clockface, and then..." she sighed. "I woke up after with a lot of ponies asking me questions I don't know the answers to."

Scarlet couldn't tell why she felt so sad hearing that. One reason was, of course, how awful it sounded. A nasty little voice in her head that sounded a bit like Nurse Redheart wondered if it was because of the quality of information she'd just been given. She pushed past it. "So you don't remember anything? Who you met before, anypony you talked to, the face of the dom who found you? Any of it?"

"I remember enough to know you should probably just give up." Floral turned on her side, facing away from Scarlet. "I think I know who the culprit is, and even if you could prove it there's not much you, or anypony else can do."

Oh. She hadn't expected that. Scarlet had assumed this was more of an observational meeting. She stifled her urge to chuckle. All this preparation, all these probing questions she had prepared in the back of her mind, and here was the victim claiming she had a suspect in mind! It was enough to make a detective weep. She leaned closer to Floral, gently touching her shoulder. "Who do you suspect? You'd be surprised what I—what the Society can do."

Floral continued to stare at the wall.

Scarlet frowned. Well, so much for that. Floral's silence alone was telling, however. Did it indicate a member of the Society in good standing, then? Scarlet realized with more than a twinge of excitement that this was a possibility she hadn't accounted for. Lost in her thoughts she turned to take her leave. Maybe a member of the Legion? That would be—

"It's me."

Scarlet paused, her forehoof halfway out the door. "Come again?"

"Me. It's obvious isn't it?" Floral continued to stare away at the wall. "There's no other explanation that makes sense. My PipSub and my bell were both sabotaged, and only I would have the opportunity to do that. They said my bell had its enchantments intact, right? It should've rung even if it was silenced then. So—" she began to sniffle, "so the only e-expl...explanation that makes sense is if I—"

"That's stupid," Scarlet said before she could help herself.

Floral turned to her, her face a mask of confusion layered with anguish. "What?"

Scarlet took a deep breath. Too blunt, too quick. Too late to play it off as a joke and probably more insensitive. No sense walking back now. "That's stupid. Who gave you that idea? They must not have been paying attention."

"I... bluh...?"

Scarlet turned her body back and closed her eyes. Looking at Floral's face was too hard and she needed to concentrate if she was going to lay this out. "I'll be clear: it's certainly possible for you to be the culprit. I just don't see it being plausible. There are too many inconsistencies for the answer to be so simple. Your motive is sketchy. You had no reason to sabotage your own bell, since the enchantments would have kept it from ringing if you didn't want it to. That's common knowledge."

Floral's voice faltered. "B-but what if I just—"

"Just what? Wanted some kind of more 'authentic' experience? Improbable. If I ruled you the culprit without properly investigating, I'd be a hack. Or do you want direct proof? Then tell me this, you were gagged when they found you, right? What was it with?"

Scarlet allowed her eyes to crack open just a bit. Floral was averting her gaze, somewhat ashamed. "Well it was...thick..."

"I'm a member of the Society, I know what gags are. Was it a ring? Bit? Ball? Muzzle, cleave?"

"Ball..." Floral admitted, her voice breaking a bit.

"Well there you go. Tell me, did it belong to you?"

Floral blinked. "What?"

"Did it belong to you? Was it a personal possession?"

Floral stared outward for a moment, alone with her thoughts. "No," she said, puzzled, completely confused.

"There you go, then. That proves there's at least one other pony involved in this story. And I intend to find them." Scarlet stomped her forehoof on the ground for emphasis. "And Floral, you're going to help me clear your own name."

"How?"

Scarlet felt herself grinning. She was going somewhere. Somehow, in spite of everything, she'd won the mare over. "Tell me, do you know the real name of any of the doms you've played with recently?"

It was a fine late-spring day in Ponyville, and the weather team had already completed their scheduled mid-morning shower. The air was warm without boiling, and the sky overhead was dotted with clouds. They had even managed to swing a gentle, delicate breeze, which was a harder ask for pegasus ponies than most of the ground-bound population realized. It was, in short, the kind of day that grabbed a pony by the sides of her head and screamed "run! Run and be free!"

Scarlet respected the day's call to frolic, but she preferred to be right where she was as she walked the town's busy market street: pressed close enough to Perique's side that observers would be forgiven for thinking the two intended to fuse into a single entity.

The batpony extended her wing, drawing Scarlet in closer. "Do you not think it's strange?" she asked.

"No, you are warm and snuggly and the best so it all makes sense," Scarlet mumbled as she nuzzled into Perique's coat.

"...I meant that so many ponies connected to the case would live so close to us," Perique chided, swatting Scarlet's flank gently with her tail.

Scarlet yipped in surprise and pressed closer to Perique in response, nearly pushing the batpony over. "Oh right. That! That's not so weird either." She kept her eyes on the road, squinting as the sun did its level best to destroy her vision. "The only real surprise to me was that Floral lives within a few miles of town. Once I heard that—"

"Wait, Floral living here came as a surprise to you?"

Scarlet paused, her train of thought trundling away without her. "Yes?"

"...Little one, Floral lives two houses down from me. She has been my neighbor for some time."

The silence stretched out for longer than any pony would find comfortable. "Anyway," Scarlet muttered, kicking at the ground under her hooves, "my point was if Floral lives in Ponyville, then chances are anyone with a motive to come after her does too. There's just so many more reasons to hate your neighbor than to hate an acquaintance at your sex club." She yelped in surprise as Perique reached over to nibble the tip of her ear.

"Thou'rt sometimes far too dour with thy judgements, little one," Perique whispered into her ear, her Old Colony accent low and musical.

Scarlet kept her focus on the ground. She had the good sense to bite her tongue to hold back the torrent of bile she wanted to spill out. Perique was perfect, and she didn't deserve to hear that deep down, Scarlet sometimes wondered if friendship wasn't some kind of cruel game that normal, acceptable ponies played with each other just to drive home how little they cared about anyone outside their circle—or so they'd have an excuse to hurt each other when things went wrong.

"This is the place?"

Scarlet nodded. "Ayup. Don't see how it could be anyplace else."

Ponyville was a growing community—Scarlet herself was a recent transplant. Like any growing town it had its share of awkward places, pieces where quaint homes built by the original run of townsfolk butted up against modern flats thrown up to meet demand. The town's most prominent landmark was a crystalline palace which had apparently sprung from the earth not long before Scarlet's move, dwarfing every building nearby in size and scope. Ponyville was, in short, no stranger to bizarre architecture.

Even so, it was rather unusual to see a house with a rowboat sticking out of the attic window.

"I think if your parents name you 'High Tide', this kind of thing is sort of bound to happen," Scarlet muttered as she approached the door and knocked.

A gruff voice rang out from behind it. "GO AWAY."

Scarlet didn't move, instead putting a hoof to her chin as she allowed herself to get lost in thought. Then she knocked again.

This time the door swung open.

Some claim that earth ponies are stronger than unicorns or pegasi, which Scarlet supposed might be true if you sat down and averaged out every pony in Equestria. In her everyday life, though, she felt it was a misleading truism. Sure you met earth ponies with excellent muscles but invariably they were farmers like the Apples, or construction workers, or athletes—not magically talented in any especially noticeable way. On the other hand, it was fairly common to meet pegasi who could bench you and your entire family.

Few ponies were better evidence of Scarlet's opinion than the pegasus currently glaring her down. He stood a good head taller than Perique, and absolutely every inch of his physique was rippling with defined muscles. Were it not for the anchor shape of his cutie mark, Scarlet would've assumed he was a bodybuilder of some sort.

"I thought I told you to go away," the pegasus growled down at her.

Scarlet flinched. His breath stank of rotgut, which was not a good sign, and for the brief moment she was able to look into his eyes she noticed a red tinge and a dilation of the pupils. This was a stallion who was having a very bad day—probably one of several.bad days by the looks of things.

Perique spoke up before Scarlet's contemplative silence could further provoke the pegasus. "Are you, by any chance, High Tide?"

"And what's it to you if I am, huh?" he snarled, spreading out his wings and snorting.

"Calm yourself down." Perique advanced, spreading her own wings protectively in front of Scarlet. "We are here to—"

"—to see if you're doing okay," Scarlet interrupted.

High Tide glared down at her. "We've never met—what makes you think you have a right to start askin' if I'm—"

"Well we're in the Society, and we heard about what happened to Floral," Scarlet replied, "and we just assumed you might be—"

"...oh." High Tide dropped his wings and shrank back sheepishly. "I'm.... I'm sorry. It's been—anyway, come inside." He cantered back through the door, motioning for the two to follow.

Scarlet's Further Notes on High Tide:

He's a recent transplant to Ponyville, that much is obvious—the accent indicates Vanhoover, though you can hardly tell unless you're listening very closely. I'd say he's built like a sailor, but to be honest between the name, the boat, and the scars around his hooves I'd say less "like" and more "definitely is".

Hard to tell right now but I'm sure he's an attractive sort if you really like stallions, or muscles, or a combination of the two. His coat's going a bit prematurely grey, I think, you can tell it used to be a much lighter blue. Diagnosis: aging, anxious pony who could accidentally break your leg if he shook hooves with you too hard, currently working through a very nasty hangover..

Scarlet's Addendum to Further Notes: Next time, bring hangover remedy..

Despite his disheveled personal appearance, High Tide's home seemed welcoming, if cluttered. Woven nets hung from the walls, decorated with seashells - Scarlet recognized them as fishing nets, unusual for a largely-vegetarian community like Ponyville. Interspersed with these wall hangings were framed watercolors, themselves nautically themed: sailboats on the open ocean, a Vanhoover port at sunset, and a whale breaching.

Scarlet sank into a sagging sofa - sea-green, of course- and snuggled up beside Perique as High Tide sank into an armchair across from them and took a drink from a rather foul-smelling flagon. It dawned on Scarlet that what she'd thought was bottom-shelf rotgut was more likely some kind of strong grog.

"...I'm sorry I yelled at you," High Tide sighed as he wiped stray drops of his drink from his mouth. "I've been... bad, the last few days."

"You must have taken the news rather hard," Perique ventured, extending a wing protectively over Scarlet. Scarlet snuggled back against her in thanks. Perique seemed remarkably calm, but Scarlet had been with her long enough to see when she was on alert. She prayed that High Tide would be nice and cooperative and not move, because those muscles were extremely well defined, and she didn't want to see Perique have to wrestle him.

"The news? The—aye, the news," High Tide spat as he pounded his half-empty flagon of grog against the arm of his chair. "Floral... fucking Floral, she's so sweet and somepony thinks he can just—I'll find him and—I'll fucking kill him!"

Perique flinched back a bit. "There's no need for such strong language—"

High Tide continued, impervious to her objections, sending a flush of embarrassed color along the batpony's cheeks. "Fuck the bastard right up his skull, that's what I'll do! Keelhaul him, rip his guts out, feed 'em to the sharks!"

Scarlet cleared her throat. "We're landlocked."

"Don't fuckin' care! I'll drag him back to Vanhoover, hang him off the side of the boat and carve him up for fishbait! Fuck that guy! Fuck his mother, fuck his sister, fuck him!" He stared down at the bottle. "She's my sub, he had no right..."

Perique nodded as the storm of foul language subsided. "...I'm sorry," she said, her voice a whisper after the tempest High Tide had just unleashed.

"I take it you have no idea who's responsible, then?" Scarlet asked.

"Do you think I'd be sittin' around on my arse drinking this if I did?" High Tide snapped, chugging yet another swig of his grog. "Can't fucking imagine who it would be. I thought it'd be that fucker Grant, but his mates all said he'd been deep in the Borderlands all night... and I guess it's his fucking thinking what saved her, so—"

"Grant was the griffon who found her then?" Scarlet asked, continuing to probe. "You know him from outside the Society then?"

"Outside—outside? Yeah. Yeah." High Tide's face became a clouded mask. "We took dom classes at the same time. Said he's on some kinda.. Some kinda study exchange program at a university in Canterlot, or something? Doesn't matter, he's a, a straight-shooter kinda guy. Good kind of griffon, if you know what I mean."

Scarlet almost snapped at "good kind of griffon" before Perique mercifully intervened. "Of course we do."

"Yeah. Yeah. Good guy... I... I got real angry at him, they had to escort me home. Now I'm fuckin'... fuckin' gonna be out of the society if I do that again." He raised his eyes to meet Perique's. "You two aren't just Society members are you?"

"We are. But we're also going to find out who hurt Floral. We can't have a dangerous pony like that on the loose," Scarlet confirmed. "I promise that as soon as we know who's responsible, we'll talk to you."

High Tide seemed to sag into his chair. "Thank... thanks. It means a lot." He stared up at the pictures on his wall. "You gotta help. Fuckin'...fuckin' everything's been terrible since the fishing trade dried up in the north. You can't imagine what it's like, being meant for the sea and having to live here. Can't even smell the ocean spray here."

Scarlet made what she thought was a sympathetic noise. It seemed appropriate.

"Floral, she—she's the last good thing that's happened to me. She's sweet, and nice, and doesn't mind care if you're bad at being gentle. And...and I. Fuck." He emptied the bottle in one last swig.

"Thank you, Mr. Tide. We will... help." Perique rose. "Come, Scarlet. We should go."

Scarlet obeyed, turning her head. "Before we go, I have two more questions. First, do you know what neighborhood Grant lives in?"

High Tide nodded. "Yeah... yeah, I went down to visit once. S' right by the palace, near where all the unicorns from the magic school live."

"Good. Now this next question is very important." Scarlet mustered all her energy to keep eye contact as she spoke, doing her best to ignore the red tint of High Tide's sclera. "Do you remember anything about the last sub you played with other than Floral?"

"Last... played with?" HIgh Tide's face was blank. She might as well have asked him what color red was.

"Never mind. We'll let you know if we find anything out. In the meantime, lay off the booze." Scarlet leaped from the sofa and trotted out after Perique.

"Where are we going in such a hurry?" Perique asked as she struggled to keep pace with Scarlet, who was forging forward with single-minded determination.

"Train station. We have just enough time to make a round trip to see Grant if we catch the 11:30 out of Ponyville," she explained as she waited for Perique to catch up. "Can't waste time on this. I'm worried they're in danger."

"Danger?" Perique's voice was incredulous. "From whom?"

"Dunno yet. High Tide was singularly unhelpful. Which I expected." Scarlet trotted forward, wincing as she passed from under a shade tree and into the direct sunlight. "First off he's probably suffering untreated depression. Seems like a tough guy who hasn't let himself talk to somepony in forever. Second, that hangover wasn't just grog. Did you catch that redness around his eyes?"

Perique gave a low gasp. "Salts?"

"Sure seems like it. Not the nice, friendly kind either." Recreational salt use was quite legal in most of Equestria, and most salts gave you little more than a pleasant tingle. Rumor had it that if you found the right ponies, though, you could indulge in a lick that would send you halfway to your foalhood and back again before the high wore off.

Scarlet frowned. "The salts aren't what bothers me, though. What bothers me is that he lied."

"Wait, lied about what—"

The two halted in front of the station. Scarlet around to her flank, then cursed. "Da—um, darn it. I forgot my purse."

"I'll cover us this time, then." Perique reached over and removed a few bits from the saddlebags she had, mercifully, remembered to bring along with her.

"Thank the sisters," Scarlet muttered under her breath. "Also um... this is embarrassing, but I'm gonna have to ask you for a loan when we get there too."

"For the return fare?" Perique asked as they stepped over to the ticket booth.

"No. Tea."

"Tea?"

"Trust me. We'll need it."

Notes on Canterlot and its Citizens, by Perique:

The Royal City, carved from mountains. Just as our little Ponyville is an "earth pony" town, Canterlot is a "unicorn city". Stick your head from the window of an approaching train, you can taste the magic floating in the air if your palate is sensitive enough. Here the sun rises not in the east nor does it set in the west, but all are ordered by our rulers. Here the Moon sleeps in the morning and rises in the evening. Our miracle is that we forget, so easily, the wonder of such things in the tumult of our lives. Ponies rise and bake bread and serve coffee and write novels and go work nine-to-fives in the residential area. In the High Streets of the noble, the wealthy and the famous, they play games with each other and spread their family money about on trivialities.

Do they know, then, that in the center of them all, the sun looks down and laughs and cries, and lives among us? Do they know the moon is gentle, terrifying, and wondrous? Have they forgotten the miracle of the sisters—or do they simply know it far deeper than those of us who live out of their immediate sight? Who best appreciates the miracle, those who are reverent or those who simply accept it?

Perique's Response to the Publication of These Notes: No, no no, please no, it's awful and maudlin—

Canterlot was a noble's city rather than a college town, but every so often you turned a corner onto a place like Gilroy Street and were reminded that a very big magical school was located near the royal palace and its students had to live somewhere when they weren't mixing philters or drinking at the local dives. Canterlot student housing was, like most of the rest of the city, a mixture of old buildings in various states of repair (and disrepair) and hastily thrown-up new structures meant to meet the demand of incoming residents.

"You're sure this is the place?" Perique asked as the two approached one such new building.

"My sources never lie. The only pony who knows more of Canterlot by name than Lemon Squeeze is Donut Joe, and apparently almost as many students come by for tea runs as get donuts around here," Scarlet explained as she adjusted the satchel she and Perique had purchased.

"We're trusting the tea shop pony to know the address of her customers?"

"Yes. Because she has only failed me once." Scarlet raised her hoof and knocked at the door before Perique could question this or object.

It swung open and, mercifully, revealed a tom griffon with a sleek, black coat and tufted 'horns' of feathers above his head. "...Hi?" he ventured, staring at the mismatched pair in front of him.

"We're from the Society, are you doing okay and can you help us solve a mystery?" Scarlet asked, before pulling a small pouch of dried leaves from Perique's saddlebags. "Also I brought tea. It's ginseng because Lemon Squeeze said you like ginseng which I thought was really odd because my marefriend can't stand it, not this one but the other one, the griffon one, anyway can we come in?"

The griffon stared at her before reaching out and accepting the leaf-packet. "...I really do like ginseng," he admitted. "And... it would be nice to talk about what happened. Come inside."

As her turned and wandered in, Scarlet shifted her attention to Perique while forcing a smile. "Did I do that right? I think I did that right. Right?"

Perique nodded. "Absolutely you did that right."

"So High Tide gave you my name?" Grant asked as the three settled around a small table in his kitchen, each with a steaming mug of ginseng tea in front of them.

"Mhmm." Scarlet blew on her tea before scooping up the mug in her hooves, a bit awkwardly—dexterous though they might be, pony hooves were really not meant to grasp the little loops on these mugs and teacups—and took a sip of the tea, letting the oddly sweet aftertaste of the ginseng linger. "He said he knew you from dom classes."

"That's true. I'm surprised he remembered, though, those were months ago and we only had a couple of conversations. I didn't even tell him my address." Grant began to lift his own mug of tea. As he tilted it back to his beak his whole foreleg, talon upwards, began to tremble slightly.

Scarlet raised her voice just a moment too late. "Watch ou—"

Grant lost his grip and the mug crashed to the floor, shattering and spilling its contents everywhere. He squawked in anger and dismay, flinching back.

Perique moved first. "Let me get that. Where are your towels?"

Grant seemed dazed for a moment but shook his head. "No, no, I can't possibly—"

"Let her do it," Scarlet ordered him, crossing to the griffon's side of the table and gently easing him back into his seat before passing him her own mug. "Just relax."

As Perique ventured into the kitchen for towels, Grant lifted his new mug, this time with extra care, and drank. "I'm sorry, I'm—"

"Nervous. You've been nervous since a few days ago, I'd guess," Scarlet interrupted, "and I'm sure us showing up didn't help."

Grant seemed to shrink away for a moment. "What do you mean—"

"Relax. I just mean it's an obvious reaction. When you found Floral, before you used the safeword, you'd already jumped on her right? I saw the claw marks near her hooves. Knowing how close you came to being a criminal must have been nerve-wracking, especially if you play in the Borderlands a great deal. I can imagine you've spent some nights wondering if anypony else you played with was in a similar position—"

Grant made a strangled half-squawking noise.

Scarlet ignored it and continued. "And anyway, I can't imagine a more awkward position. Here you are, a griffon on a high-profile exchange program—Canterlot University is almost as picky as Celestia's school—and now suddenly you find out that some guy from your sex club is bringing up your name in connection with a near-rape. Yeah. I'd be terrified too."

Grant gulped. "...you're here to blackmail me, aren't you?"

Scarlet nearly fell out of her chair, aghast. "What? What gave you that idea? I catch blackmailers, I don't engage in it myself!"

"Oh." Grant's expression showed how far from relieved he was at her protests, which dampened Scarlet's spirit somewhat. "So if you aren't here to blackmail me, what are you two here for?"

"To have tea. And to see if you had any idea who actually hurt Floral Fragrance." Scarlet sighed. "And... look, okay, I hadn't actually known you were involved or how, exactly, until today? And like... look, it's personal now. My marefriend is a griffon—"

"You mean the batpony you came in with?"

"My other marefriend, who I'm like eighty-one percent certain is doing something entirely legal back home and can't be with us but whom I love like life itself, look, my point is she's perfect. And she's hung out with me before. And I get the whole... the way a lot of ponies look at you, alright? I know the kind of things they say about her out of earshot and about you and even High Tide seemed okay with you once he knew you weren't the culprit but he was kind of an asshole and... and I just wanna fix this because somehow it concerns personal things for basically everyone I love." Scarlet sighed. "And me too, honestly."

Grant's feathers seemed to smooth themselves just a bit, and he let out a low sigh. "...your marefriend is a griffon, huh?"

"Gilda. She's from Griffonstone. I knew where to find you 'cuz she told me this street is named after a famous Griffon musician, so I'd been up this way. And also because I bribed Lemon Squeeze to get your address."

"Wait, Lemon Squeeze knows where I live?"

By the time Perique had emerged with a towel, Scarlet had begun to feel a moderately warm and somewhat fuzzy feeling of kinship with Grant.

"Well... crud," Scarlet sighed.

The three had finished their cups of tea, and the evening was wearing on - the last train to Ponyville wouldn't get them home until well after midnight at this rate. It had been a pleasant visit, but between discussing Griffonstone's history (Grant had strong opinions about King Grover), old Equestrian literature (Perique had an animated discussion about ancient philosophy that intersected quite well with Grant's major) and Conjure: The Meeting (Scarlet had noticed the poster of Lily the Veiled on Grant's wall the moment they had walked in and managed to keep silent about it until about an hour in, which showed incredible self control), at no point had anything concrete about the case revealed itself.

"I wish I could tell you more," Grant sighed. "I didn't even know Floral's name until you two told me. She was just another red collar in the borderlands. The only thing that freaked me out was that I pounced on her and she just... she didn't even freeze up. It was like she was struggling without being there, and i wanted to check on her and see if she was feeling dehydrated or something, I didn't want her passing out in the middle of play."

"And a good thing you did." Perique shuddered. "I've played in the Borderlands before. Had you not been there..."

"Yeah." Grant closed his eyes, wincing away. "Yeah. I know."

Scarlet stood up from the table. "...We have to get back to Ponyville. I guess... would it be okay if we came back to see you later, Grant?" Asking permission felt strange considering she was going to come back anyway, but there was something pleasant about Grant.

"Yeah. Hopefully under better circumstances, though." Grant's eyes twinkled. "We could all play strip Conjure."

"I don't wear clothes."

"You'll have an excuse."

Scarlet grinned. Ponies who claimed griffons were all grumpy, greedy bastards clearly hadn't spent enough time with griffons. "...I'm not even into toms, and I think I might take you up on that sometime. I'm just sorry we didn't get anywhere tonight." She ground her teeth together.

"Little one, we should make haste," Perique called from the doorway. "Our train departs in half an hour, we'll have to run to catch it."

"Coming, mama!" Scarlet called in spite of herself.

"Mama?"

"Don't you dare judge," Scarlet hissed as she rose, darting to Perique's side and under her wing.

"She's adorable. I'm jealous," Grant chuckled, pointedly addressing Perique instead.

"Indeed."

As her cheeks began to flame red with embarrassment, Scarlet gasped. "Wait! Grant, I figured it out!"

Grant paused. "What?"

"Floral! You played with her before, right? She'd been in the borderlands other times, before last time!"

Grant nodded, confused. "Yeah, I'd played with her before. It was all anonymous but—"

"Awesome! This is perfect, I think if I'm right this all makes perfect sense! We just have to go confirm—the train!" Scarlet dashed out of the doorway and into the streets of Canterlot.

Perique whirled, aghast. "LIttle one, if you do not slow down and wait for me I am going to punish you when we get home—" she called as she took flight, winging her way after Scarlet..

Grant stood alone in an empty apartment, watching the two recede into the distance. "...What was that all about?"