From Outside

Tools of the Trade
Dan's Comments
DISCLAIMER: My Little Pony is the property of Hasbro, Inc., Harry Dresden is the property of Jim Butcher, Carl Kolchak is the property of ABC/Universal Television, Ranma Saotome is the property of Rumiko Takahashi, Sailor Jupiter is the property of Naoko Takeuchi.

The shop wasn't in a particularly good part of town. But pony 'seedy and dangerous' was a walk in the park with full police escort compared to Detroit or other places Patrick had been. Makoto's directions had been spot on, as he saw exactly what she'd described on the shelf. A gorget with a unicorn head and a pegasus' wings worked into the metal containing the red gem.

The unintelligible, but obsequious, shop-owner turned frightened at the idea of anyone having interest in the mighty MacGuffin of doom (Tm). Until Patrick put the bag of coins on the counter and pointed again. The shop-owner gift wrapped it before he could stop him. Patrick also picked out a few other items, paid the rest of the money Makoto had given him and left with them.

In a nearby alley, he put it on and the effects were immediate.

He could understand the ponies' speech around him. How the heck is that dangerous? he asked himself as he hid the device beneath his clothes, then headed for the train station to head down to Ponyville for his elf-sweep.

He paused slightly before boarding, all the wheels on the train making him briefly uneasy.

At least it's not like the Eye of Argon where you have to laugh with every step for the last hundred yards of the approach, he thought. He considered the other items he'd purchased. I wonder if someone intentionally separated these, he thought, Or am I the first to notice they go together? I hope it's the former, I'd hate to think the rulers were so naive to allow the latter.

Once he was on the train, and no pony would share the car with him, he pulled out the crystal alicorn skull and the brass shaving basin which fit on the skull like a Tommy's tin hat, then he took out the poiuyt and considered how it would fit together with the other two pieces.

Agamid Don smiled as he served his customers, and the endless and ultimately pointless speculation swirled around the events in Canterlot. The police had no orders to move to the capitol's defense, although they were expected to send some troops to Ponyville soon. The alchemists were either deep in conspiracy theories about it, or were unaware of it until it was mentioned to them.

So the 'grunts' want to move, but orders forestall them, he thought as he filled another tankard with coffee and bid the police captain a good night, While the 'brains' are either overthinking it, or it can't penetrate their thought bubble. Interesting.

The rumors about what had actually happened were rife, and the sun setting on time with the moon rising simultaneously seemed to imply a smooth transition of power.

With the alicorns temporarily out of the way, he thought, I should be clear. I just wish I could leave for longer. A quick trip to Canterlot would be interesting, but I'd either have to explain the speed, or take time off to travel at rational speeds. Troublesome.

The evening passed with little to remark on. A few arguments that grew too heated were ordered to go outside, and despite his earth pony appearance and general 'cute and fuzzy' motif, he was still a powerfully muscled, cute, fuzzy earth pony, and no one wanted to see if he had the chops to back up the muscle.

The sense that an elf or elves lurked in the shadows outside the building troubled him, but not enough to go looking for them in the middle of his day. Although their sudden disappearance from his 'radar' did cause him to step outside and look around.

I felt them, they touched the security screen, he thought as he looked up at the night sky, and then looked around, But I didn't feel a displacement from a teleport or other escape, and they didn't just walk away, they stopped being there. If they didn't leave by unconventional means, they left this world by the route everyone eventually takes, but without a struggle?

He left those disturbing thoughts behind as he entered the business and got back to work.

Bruce followed the local ordinances, and deposited the trash in the appropriately marked cans. The 'organic waste only' cans behind the alchemists' building seemed the best place to leave the remains of the elves he's peeled off the walls around the dragon's shop. He checked the charge left on the tractor-repulsor he'd built on his flight here and wished there were better power systems available.

This will only last one or two more shots, he thought, Although it might be a good idea to just completely rebuild it, rather than just replace the power cell. I don't think I was picking optimum materials considering I was trying to take them alive, or at least keep them separate for a forensic examination.

He looked at the slowly resolidifying goo he'd poured in the mixture of other organic wastes and considered building a much lower output unit next time.

So, they know he is what he is, Bruce thought, I wonder if he knows a way home, and if he'd share if he does. Or is he staying to watch the battle and the aftermath? That would certainly sound like him. I wonder if I should go back to searching for Changelings, or formally switch with Patrick and let him find the Changelings and I'll search for the elves. I'm certainly having more luck in that regard.

He resumed his 'awful tree costume' disguise and headed to the next area he'd sensed the elves.

Ranma sat in a tree and watched. There were four elves in positions around the campfire, and four more 'hiding' and waiting to ambush Patrick. Patrick had signaled he'd spotted all 10, and Ranma was trying to workout the location of the other two, and to verify all eight he saw were within the ten Patrick had detected.

The small squad of Changeling soldiers were the real prize, Ranma thought, Holier than Celestia's so these must be Chrysalis' troops. So do they have any information? And what are they doing outside of Ponyville, instead of closer to Canterlot, unless they were spying on the Bearers, and with the Bearers elsewhere, they are getting stupid. He smiled at what of Patrick had rubbed off on Makoto. And smiled again as all ten rushed in to attack Patrick, and what Ranma had taught them had been retained by Patrick.

Good grief! Ranma thought as he watched, Kuno could take out those guys. And girls - who wears armor that doesn't armor the important bits.

Ranma glanced around, glad he hadn't had to intervene. He'd spotted a couple of weaknesses in Patrick's technique that needed correction. Especially the two times he could have just ducked and let the elves stab each other instead of parrying both strokes.

"It's not armor, it's lingerie," Patrick called out as he wiped his sword clean and sprinkled some powder on the bodies. They twisted briefly from very attractive humanoids, to emaciated almost onis, then to different species of humanoids, before vanishing. "That's done for them," Patrick said, and turned to the bug ponies, "Let's let Harry in on this part, and get another set of eyes working on Changeling hunting."

"Did that powder warp them before they disintegrated?" Ranma asked as he dropped out of the tree.

"No, elves project a glamor to make themselves what you consider attractive, that went. Next elves reproduce by grafting themselves onto a baby, and taking it over, that went next," Patrick said.

"Sounds like a zombie movie," Ranma said, " 'Brains'."

"Not like any zombie I've ever heard of," Patrick said.

Ranma explained the movie some of his 'friends' had dragged him to see about zombies conquering the world. It soon had Patrick in stitches. "Yeah, I laughed so hard they nearly threw me out of the theater."

"Well, that's why I'm nervous about Harry," Patrick said, "He's got all the hallmarks of being an elf-baby, or what we call a changeling, himself. A few more years of contact, and poof, the elf will take over completely."

"Sad for him," Ranma admitted, "Any way to free him?"

"Without killing him?" Patrick asked, "None."

Harry watched the pair entering Ponyville as they discussed. A large dark sphere followed them, but their conversation was infinitely more disturbing.

"So after you kill them, why do you shatter their spirits?" Ranma asked.

"Because otherwise they'll jump to some other sentient's child and take over," Patrick said, "If I shatter them, then the pieces don't have the strength to do that. They have to take over a lesser animal, usually insects. And it's like suddenly dumping them on the karma wheel that their usual method lets them avoid. Completely intentionally by the way, they know they'll be screwed in the reincarnation cycle if they were actually judged on their actions, so they've worked out a way to bypass it."

"But wouldn't they just start advancing again, they have all the knowledge of their previous life?" Ranma asked as their path seemed to be towards the library.

Harry moved from cover to cover, close enough to eavesdrop, but not close enough to be noticed. He'd also deployed a spell to distract the senses from him. Not invisibility, but 'this is not the wizard you are looking for' type of thing.

"Think of any of those we finished off actually trying to be a good ant," Patrick said, "So they'd gain the strength to take over something higher up the food chain."

Ranma shook his head and looked at the sphere that still trailed them. "So how do they make Elfqueens?" Ranma asked.

"Simple, two ways, one, they wait until a woman is pregnant to covert her to an elf, which takes a great deal of finesse. Or they go the succubus/incubus route."

"Aren't those demons?" Ranma asked.

"They are, but they're really an ancient explanation for wet dreams. Ironically, demons picked up the idea from humans, so did elves. Basically the elf appears as a female and collects the man's sperm. Then he, or she, alters the sperm and uses it to appear as a male and inject it into a female. The woman gives birth to an infant Elfqueen. Or the rarer elf-king."

"That reminds me of something really creepy," Ranma said, and shuddered. Harry too got the shivers from what Patrick was implying, especially about the Elf Queens and the lack of Elf Kings he'd seen.

They have knights, but not kings, he thought, So what are they interested in me for? Is that what 'starborn' or whatever means? That I'm an elf king? He shuddered at the thought.

"Don't do it," Patrick warned, "Ranma and Ranko are so close genetically, that the baby would have all kinds of birth defects."

"THAT'S NOT WHAT I MEANT!" Ranma shouted, "Sorry, that's been something some of my creepier classmates have suggested. What I meant was, there was a movie where this thing laid eggs in people and the larva bursts out of their chests. That's what I meant."

"The term is parasitoid, those wasps who hunt spiders to lay their eggs inside them," Patrick said and chuckled, "That sounds like comedy gold. But I'd probably get tossed out of the theater for laughing too hard. The right thing to do is incinerate the victim and the egg. Harsh, but if it's life or death, too bad. Or at least keep them quarantined and under observation, maybe full body scans."

"Yeah, I got tossed out for laughing, and yelling at them," Ranma said, "Considering what I have gone through that movie had to be comedy gold."

"Yeah, horror films used to be cautionary tales," Patrick said, "Now they're viewed as how-to guides on not surviving a crisis."

They entered the library, and waved for Harry to follow them.

"How'd you know I was there?" Harry asked.

"I can smell the elf on you," Patrick said, "It's like asking how to find some who's been skunked."

"I heard you stomping around behind us," Ranma said, "Hard-soled boots aren't the best for sneaking."

"This is what you need to be searching for," Patrick said and removed the opacity of the sphere, "The locals call them changelings, so they're different from the elf-cuckoos that human folklore talks about. But they are shapechangers who feed on emotions, like G-rated succubuses. They still rate movies in your time, or did they implement a new Hayes Code?"

"Yes, movies are rated," Harry said, and looked at the trio of soldiers.

"Oh, while they feed on emotions, directing hatred at them is not a good idea," Ranma said and glared at Patrick, who looked a little sheepish.

"How do you know that?" Harry asked.

"We used to have four of them, and now I'm taking a shower," Ranma said.

"That's why I stayed behind the rock," Patrick called after Ranma. He shrugged at Harry. "Sometimes you have to try, but thinking of elves was probably not the best choice. Next time I'll stick to thoughts of marshmallow lima bean casserole, less messy."

"I almost don't want to know," Harry admitted as he prepared some analysis spells.