Chapter Two - “Long Day”

Belle trotted down the street in blissful content. Night had fallen, bathing the sky in dark blue and littered with stars. The weather was perfect; warm with a slight breeze. All felt right with the world. Belle looked to her left and smiled from ear to ear at the filly beside her.

Her daughter, Sunny, beamed in return.

“What did you think of the carnival, honey?” Belle asked, knowing the answer.

“It was amazing!” The filly chirped with delight. “Can we go again? Please, Mom?”

Belle laughed. “We will, next year.”

The two continued walking, unaware that they were passing by a dark alley. The world around them seemed to lose its color, the vibrant lights now dull and lifeless, and the slight breeze a cold chill that nipped at their necks.

“A local store owner was robbed earlier today.”

“The Mayor has received more death threats.”

“Gang wars all over Manehattan leave several hospitalized after being caught in the crossfire.”
Belle and Sunny traversed through the dark alley, only to be greeted by a pair of glowing, red eyes that stared at them with malevolent intent. Belle’s maternal instincts kicked into overdrive, and she pulled her frightened daughter close as the figure drew a weapon. The world appeared to move in slow motion as it raised the weapon at the pair.

“Hideous slaying of a group of charity workers last night.”

"A stallion was beaten to near-death, then robbed of his possessions and taxi wagon."

"Crime is at a record high in Manehattan! The city has gone to Tartarus and no pony seems to be doing anything about it!"

The last thing Belle heard, was her daughter’s screams before the ear-splitting BANG!

Belle shot up in her bed with a gasp, cold sweat glistening off her brow. She frantically looked around, before realizing she was in her bedroom, then let out a shaky sigh. Nightmares. Again. It was always the same one, too. She checked the clock mounted on her wall.

8:09 AM.

Five hours of sleep. That’s a new record, she thought humorlessly. After that episode, Belle knew there was no returning to the world of slumber. With a sigh, she climbed out of bed and walked to the bathroom. She turned the nozzle and warm water sprayed from the faucet. Belle sat in the shower, letting the water run down her face and soak her mane. The bathroom was quickly coated in a relieving cloud of warm fog. Belle looked down at the drain, lost in thought.

"Two years," she said with a hint of reminiscent melancholy. "It's been two years since that night. Yet, I can still hear her voice, as if it were just yesterday."

As Belle let her mind wander further, the memories washed over her like the shower water.

"Look, Mommy, I made you a drawing!

"Wow, look at how many stars there are!"

"That puppy is so cute! Can we keep him?"

"That was so much fun! Can we do it again?"

"Happy Mothers Day, Mommy!"

"I love you, Mommy."

...

"Mommy, I'm scared."

A knock at the door made Belle jump in surprise, snapping her right back to reality.

"Belle? Belle, are you in there?" Amethyst’s voice called out from the other side.

"Yeah, it's me." Belle replied, "I'll be out in a few minutes."

"Alright, I'll be waiting downstairs. I'm making breakfast!"

"Okay, sounds good."

Belle could hear Amethyst walking away from the door, then she turned off the shower. She grabbed her towel and started to dry off. Belle stopped for a moment to the fog away from the mirror, so she could see herself. Belle's reflection showed her mane as a frazzled mess, still dripping with water, and her eyes were a slight tinge of red with small bags beneath them.

"Looking like a million bits, Belle." She murmured sarcastically. Belle finished drying herself off, then left the bathroom.

She descended the stairs, and entered the kitchen to see Amethyst standing near the oven. He magic moved the frying pan in a circular motion, cooking a few eggs. As the Unicorn was cooking, Gearbox sat at the counter, reading the newspaper with a plate of freshly buttered toast beside her.

Belle poured herself a mug of coffee before joining her friends at the counter.

"Belle, you haven't lived until you've tried one of my--" Amethyst sentence died the moment she turned around and saw Belle's appearance. "Whoa, whoa, whoa, what happened to you?"

Gearbox lowered her newspaper to see what Amethyst was fussing about, only for her eyes to grow wide when she got a look at her fellow Earth Pony. "Damn, Belle, you look like Tartarus chewed you up and spit you out."

"Well, good morning to you, too." Belle deadpanned, rolling her eyes as she took a sip of her coffee. She caught the speculative looks her friends were shooting her way. "I didn't run out again, if that’s what you’re thinking. I just had a rough night.”

"’Rough’ would be putting it mildly." Gearbox retorted, and Amethyst made a sound of agreement.

"Well, if we're finished gawking at my complexion, can I have some food now? I'm quite famished." Belle said, wanting to move on from the matter.

"Why, of course!" Amethyst said, her jovial tone returning as she levitated a plate of omelettes and freshly made buttered toast.

"Here you are, a slice of my famous omelette from your truly!" the Unicorn added.

Gearbox leaned over the table and whispered into Belle’s ear, "Between you and me, Belle, I'd suggest you stick with the toast. Her omelette has more egg shells than it does yoke."

Belle faintly chuckled at the comment, then at Amethyst’s subsequent expression of annoyance.

"Hey, I'm standing right here you know!"

Gearbox laughed in response. "Oh, hush, Powers. You know I don't actually mean a word of it."

Belle interjected before the argument could continue, "How's the equipment coming along, Gear?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah! Did a systems check and everything's good to go! Not only will you have your own digital Encyclopedia, it'll also be able to identify any substance. Plus, it acts as a storage device, to keep track of whatever you find."

Belle smiled. "I knew you wouldn't let me down, Gear.”

"Like there was ever any doubt?" Gearbox rubbed her hoof on her chest, then looked at it with a confident smirk.

"Ahem."

Amethyst cleared her throat in an exaggerated manner, catching Belle and Gearbox’s attention.

"On a non-superhero related note, I've got a big announcement! This Friday, I'm hosting a party that marks the 100-year anniversary of Ace Power Industries!" She declared enthusiastically.

"Really? That's great, Amethyst." Belle grinned. Knowing how deeply Amethyst cared for her company, she didn’t expect anything less in preparation for this milestone.

"Can you believe it's been 100 years already?" The Unicorn asked. "To think I inherited it from my father, who inherited it from his father, who inherited it from his father, who won it from a friend in a game of poker!"

"You must have lost out on those poker genes, if your time in Los Pegasus is anything to go by." Gearbox snarked.

"Okay, that was a cheap shot. I was just starting!" Amethyst moaned in a weak attempt to defend herself.

"You've lost every poker game you've ever played, and abysmally at that."

"Well, I haven’t had much time to practice; as you know, I’ve been pretty busy running a multi-million bit company."

"She's never going to admit she just sucks at poker, will she?" Gearbox asked Belle.

"That's about as likely as you giving up swearing," Belle retorted.

The blue mare scoffed. "We know that ain't happening any Celestia damn time soon."

"My point exactly."

"Laugh it up, you two." Amethyst rolled her eyes. "Back on topic, I’d love it if my two best mares were able to attend this momentous event!"

Neither had to think about their answer.

"Eh, why not?" Gearbox shrugged. "I ain't got anything better to do… and who am I to
turn down free food?"

"Of course I'll go." Belle smiled softly. "I wouldn't miss it for the world, Amethyst."

"Wow, I never took you for a formal partying type, Belle." Gearbox commented with a nudge to her shoulder.

"Not often, no." Belle admitted. “But Amethyst has done so much for me in the past year. It's the least I can do to return the favor.”

“Heh, fair enough.” Gearbox smirked.

"Oh, you girls are the best!” Amethyst clapped her hooves together, “I can't wait to make your dresses. But first thing’s first, we need to do something about that complexion of yours, Belle.”

“But Amethyst…” Belle whined over Gearbox’s laughter.

"No buts! When you’re done, it’s straight back to the tub for you, young lady!” Amethyst said, waving a hoof at Belle.

"Oh, this is rich! Belle being treated like a child just made my day!" Gearbox exclaimed through fits of laughter.

"Thank you, Gearbox, you really are a best friend a mare could ever ask for." Belle hissed through gritted teeth at her snickering companion. Then, a lightbulb went off in Belle’s head, bringing a sly smile to her lips.

"Say Amethyst, since you’re being ever so kind as to fix my appearance why not give Gearbox a makeover while you’re at it?"

Gearbox’s laughter ceased as her amused expression evaporated into one of horror.

"Oh that's a great idea Belle!" The unicorn clapped her hooves in agreement, "I've been meaning to take a crack at that mane of hers for years now. What do you say, Gearbox?"

Amethyst and Belle turned to face Gearbox, only to find an empty, spinning seat that was abandoned in a hurry. The omelette and toast were absent from the plate, indicating the meal had been devoured in a few bites. The sounds of rattling metal came from the workshop downstairs, and Gearbox returned to the kitchen with her tool bag saddled over her back, prepared for departure.

“Okay, this was fun and all, but I just remembered I’ve got some important commission work today,” Gearbox said, her head whipping about frantically in search of the door. She breathed a sigh of relief as she found her path to escape. “Ah, there ya are, ya sneaky bastard.”

“Don’t you think you should try getting some rest, Gear? You did work all night, after all.” Amethyst said with a tilt of her head.

“Nah, I’ll be fine. Sleep is for the weak anyway, Powers,” Gearbox said, adjusting her saddlebag.

“What's wrong, Gearbox? Afraid of the Powers Special Makeover?” Belle taunted.

Gearbox’s stride increased as she neared the door. “Okaygottagoseeyouguyslaterbye!”

The blue mare briskly disappeared out the door, leaving Amethyst and Belle staring in collective amusement.

“That mare really hates makeup, doesn’t she?” giggled Amethyst.

“About as much as you admitting you suck as poker.” Belle retorted.

“Hey!”

“It’s the hard truth, Amethyst. Live with it.”

“Just finish your breakfast, so we can work on that face of yours,” Amethyst said as she cut herself a piece of omelette.

Belle groaned, her face sinking in a deadpan expression. “I can already tell this is going to be a long day.”

Swift Force drifted between sleep and wakefulness with his head pressed against his pillow, a small puddle of drool lay near his open mouth. The Unicorn felt his internal alarm was going off but couldn't quite figure out why. Swift slowly cracked an eye open, only to recoil under the sting of the morning light filtered through his window beside the bed; the warm glow hadn't been deterred by the other apartments that surrounded Swift's room. He blinked and yawned.
“What time is it?” he mumbled drearily. He moved his eyes, forcing his head upright to glance at the clock on the nightstand.

“Eight,” he started, but his words stretched into a yawn, “Mmph… thirty. Okay.” His head thumped back against the pillow as his eyes drooped back shut. He then froze as his eyes snapped open.

“8:30?!” he exclaimed, his voice rising in panic as he checked the clock again. “Oh, crud, I slept in! I’m gonna be late!”

Swift wrestled with his covers, until he inadvertently fell over the side of the bed with an audible thud. Swift scrambled to his hooves, but tripped over the sheets still coiled around his hooves. He kicked himself free, then stumbled into the bathroom. Turning on the faucet, he quickly splashed his face with warm water, then combed his mane to make himself more presentable. He quickly applied a layer of deodorant, as well as some cologne for good measure.

Darting into the kitchen, Swift swiped a piece of bread from his pantry to scarf on, then retrieved his saddlebag on the way out the front door. He spilled onto the sidewalk, making a dash for down the sidewalk. As he rounded the corner, his momentum propelled him directly into a blue mare. The ensuing collision knocked both ponies to the ground. Swift’s belongings remained in his bag, which couldn’t be said for the blue mare’s things that now littered the ground.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” the mare grumbled through gritted teeth. She shot Swift a heated glare while rubbing her head. “Learn to watch where you’re going, ya prick!”

Bullets of embarrassed sweat slid down Swift’s forehead.

“Oh, my gosh, I’m so sorry, ma’am! Here, let me help.” he said. Swift’s horn glowed as he collected the mare’s possessions and held them out as an appeasement offering.

The mare grabbed the tools from Swift and deposited them into her bag, mumbling curses as she did so.

Swift sighed, “I’m really sorry about that, miss…?”

“Gearbox,” the mare grunted, as she strapped on her saddlebag.

“Gearbox. I didn’t mean for that to happen, I’m just in a hurry.” Swift checked his watch. “Oh, man, I’ve gotta run! See ya, and sorry again!”

Swift darted past Gearbox, but the mare called out to him.

“Hey, twit, I wouldn’t go that way, if I were you!”

“What?” Swift turned his head but didn’t slow down. “Why?”

“See for yourself!” Gearbox yelled back, pointing down the road in front of Swift.

Initially confused, Swift looked forward as directed. He quickly realized what she meant when a muscular Earth Pony, wearing construction garbs, came into view. Swift immediately dug his hooves into the ground and skidded to a stop before he could be caught in another collision. The work pony continued on, unaware of Swift’s presence.

Gearbox trotted to a panting Swift.

“They’re doing construction down there. That road’s going to be closed for a few days,” she explained, “I guess you don’t read the papers much.”

“No, but I wish I did! I've got an interview coming up! Oh I'm gonna be so late!” Swift said, growing more frantic by the second.

Gearbox rolled her eyes with a sigh. She hated seeing others have panic attacks in front of her.

“Where and when is your interview?” she asked.

“At the Brass Hooves Newsletter, 9:30 sharp!” Swift replied in grief.

“Brass Hooves Newsletter, eh?” Gearbox stroked her chin. “That’s on the far side of Manehattan.”

“So, you can see why I need to be there as soon as possible!”

“Lucky for you, I know how to get around, so I can give ya a shortcut.” she mused.

“You do?” Swift stared at Gearbox, feeling a pang of relief. “Oh, thank Celestia! What kind of shortcut?”

“A rough one; emphasis on rough.”

Swift’s ears flattened with the acknowledgement that this wouldn’t be pleasant. “I’ll take what I can get at this point.”

Gearbox shrugged. “Alright, don’t say I didn’t warn ya. You got any bits?”

“Yeah?”

“How much?”

Swift did a quick accounting of his currency. “About 40 or so.”

“Good enough,” she said, “I know a pony that can get you to the Brass Hooves Newsletter in time. He's got his own taxi cart.”

“Thanks a bunch,” Swift nodded, pulling a few bits from a pocket in his saddlebag.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Gearbox dismissed, then she pulled out a whistle and blew into it.

Swift looked around, his anxiety increasing in the form of tapping his hoof along the concrete impatiently. There was a gust of wind as something came careening from the sky, its shadow enveloping the two ponies as it drew near.

“Hey, taxi!” Gearbox called out, beckoning the shadow over with a wave of her hoof.

The object circled around and landed in front of them. It was a taxi cart, but of a different variant. The cart was mounted on a cloud with an inverted color scheme of the traditional yellow and black. Mounting the taxi, was a burly Pegasus with the build to rival even the Captain of the Royal Guard.

“Since when did taxi carts fly?” Swift found himself thinking aloud.

“Since the princesses got fancy carriages,” Gearbox replied in a smart alec tone of voice, then addressed the driver. “Twit, meet my old pal Zeke. Zeke, meet twit.”

Zeke gave a nod of acknowledgement, then held his hoof out expectantly. Swift slammed the change into the waiting hoof and climbed into the cart.

“Brass Hooves Newsletter, ASAP.” He said.

As Zeke spread his wings, Swift decided to quickly indulge in his curiosity.

“Hey Gearbox, how come I don’t see more Pegasus taxis around?”

A mischievous grin formed along Gearbox’s face.

“You’re about to find out, twit.”

“It’s Swift,” the Unicorn corrected, “Swift Force. Remember that name because the whole city’s going to know it when--YIPE!”

Swift’s sentence devolved into incoherent screaming when Zeke shot into the sky at breakneck speed. The wind pulled back his face, his mane flapping in the wind as it howled in his ears.

Gearbox watched the cart disappear around the corner and continued on her way. “Whatever you say, twit.”

The cart shook violently as it glided through the air, soaring over the busy streets and maneuvering around skyscrapers. Swift could see his intended destination coming up fast. Too fast. His eyes expanded into dinner plates as the anxiety of revelation had seized him.

“We’re gonna crash,” he started quietly, only to grow in volume as they got closer and close with no sign of stopping. “We’re gonna crash. We’re gonna crash! WE’RE GONNA CRASH!”

Swift let out a shrill scream as Zeke suddenly nosedived toward the street below, only to make an arc and land with a thud directly in front of the Brass Hooves Newsletter. Swift put a hoof to his chest, taking deep breaths in an effort to calm his heart, which pounded against his ribcage in a panicked fury. Still shaking, he checked his watch.

9:20 AM.

“I still have time, I made it! Thanks for the ride!” he sputtered, vaulting over the side of the cart.

Zeke nodded, then disappeared into the skies once again. It took a moment for Swift to acclimate himself with the ground after his turbulent flight. He looked forward and put on his best smile, before pushing his way through the front doors.

Swift walked in the lobby, keeping his chin high in an effort to display confidence. He approached the counter and cleared his throat to attract the attention of the secretary from her paperwork.

“Can I help you?” she asked.

“Yes, my name is Swift Force. I’m here for an interview with Bobby Blabby?” Swift said.

The secretary gestured to a nearby seat. Swift patiently sat down, awaiting his interview. Out of the corner of his eye, he could have sworn he’d caught a brief glance of pity from the mare at the desk. He shrugged it off and leaned back in his seat, his confidence beginning to recover as he smiled to himself. If he could handle the stress, this interview would be a breeze. But that certainty evaporated when he heard a shout coming from behind the office door.

“Garbage, garbage, it’s all garbage!”

A shiver wormed its way up Swift’s spine as he grimaced from the intensity of the voice.

“You, you, and especially you… GET OUT! And hang your heads in shame, because you’re absolutely despicable!”

Three ponies exploded through the door and ran down the hall as if their lives depended on it. Swift’s eyes were locked in the direction of the fleeing employees, then felt his heart working against his chest again. Sweat formed along his brow as he swallowed.

“That looks like my cue.”

Standing up, Swift turned to enter the office, but the enraged voice froze him in his tracks. He bent over, catching a view of the office. A brown coated stallion with a black mane and small mustache held a styrofoam cup in a magical vice, crumpling it in his hand and allowing its contents to leak onto his desk. The stallion didn’t pay it any mind, too focused on the shaking mare before him.

“Who do you think you are?! Why in Celestia’s name did you get me decaf?! You think it’s easy to keep this sunny disposition without my cup of joe?! Get out of here, and don’t come back until you have real coffee, instead of this Ponyville import crap!”

The stallion slammed the cup into a trash can beside his desk with authority, while the mare sped out of the office, apologizing all the way as she shoved past Swift. Once again, Swift watched the young employee flee from the office, then turned to look back at the stallion as he sunk into his chair. His eyes honed in on Swift like a hawk, his nose scrunched in annoyance.

“Who the heck are you?” he asked gruffly.

Swift cleared his throat, trying to sound composed. He sputtered a reply, “U-Um, I’m Swift Force, sir. I heard you had a job opening, so I came for an interview.”

The stallion looked at the clock on his desk.

“Oh, yeah, you’re my 9:30. I almost forgot. Alright, come on, pull up a chair. Let’s get this over with.”

Swift breathed a sigh of relief and sat in the chair adjacent to the desk.

“So, what makes you think your sorry flank deserves to work here, at the Brass Hooves Newsletter?”

“Well,” Swift rubbed the back of his head, “I have a major in photography and journalism, I’m handy with a camera and pen, and I graduated from Manehattan College.”

“Is that all?” Bobby prodded, disinterest infecting his tone.

For a moment, Swift internally panicked, and it took every ounce of his being to keep a calm demeanor. He’d rehearsed this several times in his head, but didn’t expect such an apathetic response.

“I am also determined to get a story,” he quickly added, “Even if I have to crawl through a gutter to get it. If it's a story worth being told, I'll throw myself at it!”

“Is that right?” Bobby asked, sounding amused by the gesture.

“Um, yes?” Swift said, albeit with less certainty than earlier. Bobby’s inflection had killed what little confidence he’d just built up.

Bobby’s faux smile disappeared, replaced with another callous expression. “Kid, do you have any idea how many nitwits walk through that door and feed me the same crap you’re spewing right now? I'll tell you, more than several decades worth. What makes you any different?”

Swift surprised himself with how fast and firm he responded, “Because I can actually do it, I just need a chance to actually prove it!”

Bobby smirked, “A chance, huh? How about a wager instead?”

“What kind of wager?”

“One that determines whether or not you have a future here,” Bobby stood from his chair and walked toward the window and surveyed the city before him, “For weeks, every newspaper in town’s been trying to get the police to disclose the details on the masked vigilante who’s been running loose in Manehattan. So far, they've been tight lipped about the whole thing. If you can get me the scoop, I'll hire you on the spot. If not, then you can kiss your chances of working here goodbye,” Bobby turned to face Swift once more, “So, what do you say, Swift?”

Swift grinned, “I say it’s a done deal!”

“Then it’s settled,” Bobby returned to his chair, “The chief of police is scheduled to address the situation at a press conference taking place at City Hall at noon. You have twenty-four hours.”

“I won’t let you down, sir! I’ll get on it right away!” Swift hopped out of the seat and exited the office with renewed resolved and a mission.

Bobby leaned back in his seat, a smirk adorning his face.

“Let’s see if you’re worth a damn, kid.”

Author's Note

Sorry for the extremely long delay. Life got a little busy, I had to move out of state and spend a good deal of time finding a job and acclimating to it all. But rest assured, I haven't forgotten about this story, and King and I don't intend to let it die anytime soon. We hope to have another update ready for you much sooner this time. Consider this our Halloween treat to you all.