Death Markby HierolephantChaptersCase by CaseRed StringVisitationConfrontationCase by CaseA Nocturne mare had thrown her colt off of a fifth-floor balcony. A Nocturne filly had had poisonous herbs in the sandwich of her school packed lunch, which her father had made. Another filly had been stranded by her parents on an unstable cloud-bed, the drifting nimbus disintegrating beneath her hooves. The list went on. Foals stranded in dangerous places, fed dangerous food, deliberately thrown off high places... By the grace of the Princesses, there were no casualties. Either from extreme luck at surviving the heinous abuse, or the quick thinking of concerned bystanders. A good thing too; heavens forbid, but if there had been a death then there would be angry mobs everywhere. As it was, it was already Bad. Not angry mobs just yet, the newspapers had been paid to keep quiet until the mystery had been unraveled, but that didn't stop the ugly looks and the unpleasant whispers which tended to travel faster than the efforts of the printing press anyway. Not that no measures had been taken; all of the foals involved were now in protective care in a foster home and the parents detained. Foal Services Worker Nursery Garden gave it a week until ponies started menacingly sharpening pitchforks. Or procuring them in order to sharpen menacingly, since Central Canterlot didn't exactly boast many farmers. She'd already heard unpleasant and frankly racist rumours of foal sacrifice and cannibalism and she wondered briefly if some of her colleagues and a few of the Guards needed a sensitivity seminar and those horror novels in the employee lounge confiscated. She needed to solve this case- these multiple cases -now before herd mentality and paranoia started taking effect. And she did mean solve. It wasn't as simple as having the foals placed with relatives or foster homes and the parents charged for their crimes. Not when the children were hysterical at being removed from their parents and not at all at their nearly-fatal experiences. Not when the parents seemed completely bemused at why their children were being taken away and themselves arrested. Many even flat-out denied trying to murder their children, statements which came out clean under lie-detector spells. Indeed, both children and parents were starting to get irritable and almost fearful at being taken from their loved ones. But it was for the safety of the foals. That was why Nursery was here, why this was her job in the first place. Why she was currently pinning notes to a corkboard with red string like a cheap detective novel. She thought it somewhat appropriate, because it felt like that was what this was turning into. If it worked in books it might work for her. "Miss Garden?" Lollipop Treat, a younger colleague whose main talents lay with comforting foals after being lost or going to doctor's appointments. Whose normally fluffy mane was frizzy with stress and blue eyes dangerously watery at all the distressed foals going around who refused to be comforted. "Oh you poor dear, you look run off your hooves," Nursery soothed her fragile coworker, pulling out a chair. "Let me get you some nice chamomile tea for your nerves." Frazzled shake of the head. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'd...I'd really like that." A weak smile. "But the foster-group homes need me to talk to them, want me to talk to the foals and I just-" a shaky breath, "I'm very busy. I actually came by to deliver a message though. Since you're the one overseeing the...problems?" "Not another incident?! Oh no, was everypony alright this time?" "N-not exactly." Seeing the horror on Nursery's face, Lollipop amended her statement. "No, no! I mean that somepony's come forward...with information. He's waiting by the front desk for you." Dismissing the uncertainty in the mare's voice, Nursery instead jumped on the surge of relief she felt. "Oh thank heavens! Here, if you're not going to have tea, have a sweet and come on!" Shoving her little jar of fruity candies into Lollipop's hoof, Nursery's horn lit up and pulled her now-distracted colleague by the shirt collar down the corridor. The stallion in question was everything she was not expecting. There seemed to be a shadow cast over his face beneath the plumed helmet of a Royal Guard, but it didn't hide the cat-slitted gold eyes. The dark purple armor did nothing to hide, but rather framed, the dark membraned wings furled over the broad shoulders. Surrounded by the cheery murals and comfy over-stuffed armchairs of the reception room, the Nocturne stallion looked too sharp and heavy for this world. Falling back on her habitual conversation starter, the reason she kept a jar of sweets in the first place, Nursery grabbed it from Lollipop and proffered it to the stallion. Failing to notice that Lollipop was still fumbling around inside it for her own treat and thus also tugging on her coworker's hoof in the process. Sending the poor mare muzzle-first onto the carpet. "Uh..." Nursery could feel her frayed nerves snapping faster under the weight of the embarrassment and absolute mortification. "Do you want a sweet?" She resisted the urge to shrink under the piercing glare of the gold eyes that whispered to her hindbrain to cower in place. But then they blinked. "Um," said a rumbly voice. Before an armour-clad hoof was offered to Lollipop. "Up you come now, Miss." "T'ank 'ou," Lollipop snuffled through her bruised nose. "'Ursery, d'is is-" "Chaplain Grave Beetle, Night Guard Special Investigations," is the introduction, complete with a sharp hoofstep to the snap to attention. "I've been sent to lend assistance to...some serial attempted murders? Is that right?" He pauses, suddenly. "...can I still have a sweet?" "Of course," Nursery assured him hurriedly. "Take two, for helping Lollipop. Lollipop I'm so sorry," she hissed out the side of her mouth, but the mare simply patted her shoulder in forgiveness. The stallion, Grave Beetle...should she call him Grave or Beetle? Or maybe he didn't like his name being split up? Or should she be addressing him by his rank? Chaplain? What kind of rank was that? Admittedly she didn't know much about military ranks, let along the probably very different ones of a military that had only just come back from a thousand years ago... Anyway, Chaplain Grave Beetle took two sweets. A caramel nut and a forest fruit chew. "...Let me show you what we've got so far," Nursery offered weakly, but relieved. Red StringGrave Beetle was unsure if he was supposed to act as though he were interacting with a civilian business or liaising with a different military detachment. Certainly, he remembered the vigilantes-slash-relief-aid group, the Nurses Templar, that had been both pains and salves in the hooves of many. The revelation that their organization had dissolved over the centuries into a tax-funded scribe's job had been...not a blow, exactly. Relief, but also a sense of loss. Nostalgia, maybe? The appearance of this Foal Services ~~Headquarters~~ Offices had further thrown him off. Painted walls depicted bright cheery meadows under an equally bright sun. The exclusion of His Lady's Moon and Night almost made him wince, but. Day ponies. What could you expect? Nothing worse than what he'd already seen. First impression of his own liaison, Nursery Garden, didn't exactly assuage his impressions of this whole affair's civilian nature. Fellow officers did not exactly offer you sweets, after all, nor take their aide's(?) or his own word on his rank and credentials. Well, the last could not exactly be helped. This was a discretionary operation, needing discreet paperwork and intel-sharing, and the messenger may have been delayed in confusion at a civilian office receiving correspondence from a military one. Still, politeness was good, so he took the sweets. He was shown the corkboard of papers and red string, which was similar enough to the collation of operation intel for him to re-orient and cut through the self-conscious chatter. "Ch- ah, Madam Garden?" He had to remember that it was Madam, not...a title she wouldn't understand. Remember that he was here to test her, to ease the paths of others. He was here with his own mission, for the sake of all his kind. "I confess that I twisted the truth a little." Deep breath, steadying. "I'm here to close down the investigation." The mare's jaw drops, eyes wide in their sunny-meadow green. "What? You...this...you can't!" "I can. This is an internal affair and is already being dealt with internally." Warning the Nocturne community, arranging for the involved parents and foals to be released...trying to arrange, at least. There were...barriers. Awkward questions being asked that they could neither answer, ignore or make excuse for. Barriers that they need someone on the inside to clear for them. Nursery Garden, in his split second of silence, has screwed up her face in puzzlement, staring at him. "You...you're trying to scare me!" "Causing you fear is not my intention-" Half a lie. He wants submission, acquiescence. Not fear. "Not like that! You're bluffing!" Accusatory now, angry exuberance. "If your ponies could close the investigation down, you wouldn't be here talking to me! I'd have just gotten some, I don't know, intimidatingly vague letter on my desk. No, you need me to talk to ponies for you so you can do what you want!" Silence, heavy. He has to give it the compliment it deserves. "You are remarkably astute." An irritable huff, a small impatient hoof-stomp. "I have a cutiemark for figuring out what foals want, and grown ponies aren't so different I can't see the similarities. Now," she raises and taps her hoof on his pauldron with a smirk. "How about you tell me what's really going on?" "That's confidential information." The words slip out as easy as breathing and just as reflexive. She sweeps her hoof round, gesturing to the office at large. "All of this is confidential, private, in one way or another. I can handle it, keep a lot of secrets. Lives are at stake, Beetle! Foals' lives!" And how many lives, foals, would be in danger if the truth got out? "Some things are better not to know! The world is big enough to lose yourself in and the truth hurts! ...I'm asking you, please, to turn away and ignore this." "No." Just like her forerunners of the Nurses Templar, the mare refuses to let go of something she's got a jaw grip on. Quieter words, though. All the more stubborn for it. "I don't trust you." Green eyes glare at him, nostrils flared. Head lowered slightly, in an unconscious ready-charge stance. Then it folds, retreats, as she turns her back to him and faces her corkboard of red string. Dismissing him. "I'll just solve this case myself then." No. If she does figure it out...it'll all be over anyway. Unacceptable. If she won't drop the case either...he has no choice. He'll have to contain it. "I'm afraid I can't do that, Madam Garden." "Huh?" Turning back towards him, he nearly winced at the sudden apprehension in her gaze. She had expected him to capitulate to her own confidence. On the back hoof now, now that he was still here and voicing his own intentions. "I will neither help nor hinder you...but I cannot allow you to report whatever you may find. Congratulations, Madam Garden, I am now your assigned minder for this case." She blustered. "You can't do that! That's...that's stalking! Harassment! Illegal!" "Not if the citizens of Equestria are endangered. If foals are endangered." Scowling at him turning her words back against her, she lights her horn and levitates a piece of paper over to him. "Well then. I will get to the bottom of this, if only to prove to you that it's not worth the secrecy. Since you've appointed yourself my assistant, you're coming with me." He recognizes the address on the paper. "We're doing interviews." VisitationIt might have been afternoon, but Celestia's sun was still high and bright. Nursery only took real note of it because Grave Beetle seemed unaffected as he followed her out into the street. Showing no discomfort standing in broad sunlight even as they went to the corner to hail a chariot. Not that Nursery believed in the old mare's tales and movie tropes of Nocturnes turning to dust in sunlight, but they were nocturnal. "Are you alright being up at this hour?" Golden eyes flicking to her, she thinks that the gloom the helmet casts over his face seems almost permanent. "Being active during Day is...strange to me, yes. Not intolerable, and I have done it before." Well, that was good. "I take it our subjects for questioning are also living on a day-centric cycle, or a crepuscular one?" "What's a crepuscular?" She asks. "Waking from midday to midnight," he explains. Nursery feels her face heat in embarrassment at her own ignorance. "Yes, crespu- uh, crepuscular, that. Though one family is Nocturnal, so...it's going to be a late night for me. Well, for both of us since you're joining me." "Hm." His only acknowledgement is the flick of a tufted ear, and Nursery is fine with that. He's an unwanted foalsitter and this is business. Returning her focus to her sheaf of papers, she flicks through the contents. Might as well catch up on the details; it's a long chariot ride to the first visit on the very edge of Canterlot. More efficient to go to the furthest away during daylight and work back from there, since a lot of chariot routes close at sun-lowering. Safe city aside, it's a little creepy walking back at night. She wonders; would Grave Beetle find it the opposite? Is walking in daylight unnerving in the same way she finds walking at night? Curious, she glances over. Grave Beetle is sat right next to her, but from what little she knows of Pegasi behaviour, he's stiff and professional. Wings furled tight, tail held close to the side away from her. Front hooves set together, back straight and alert. Ears constantly swivelling to catch sound. She catches glimpses of short grey fur, but otherwise, shadow sticks to the underside of every segment of armour. He couldn't look more like a recruiting poster if he tried. A lot of those posters had been torn down in the first week. The Night Guard remained dominated by Nocturnes. If this whole thing with the foals got out...it would be even worse. Nursery understood why Grave Beetle wanted this all covered up, she got that. But somepony had to get to the issue at the root. Somepony had to make sure the foals were safe. Didn't he get that? "Is something wrong, Madam?" Grave Beetle's voice jolts her from her musings. Looking at her with a neutral expression. Oh no; she's been staring dreamily at him the whole time! "No." She says curtly, returning her attention to her case files. "Just lost in thought." X Just because she's seen it before doesn't mean Nursery doesn't wince. Faded, slightly tattered banners hang from the balconies, interspersed with bones. Not Nightmare Night props, but actual bone bones. Eugh. Macabre decorations aside, the tenement block is almost silent. She just can't shake the feeling of being watched. Grave Beetle isn't disturbed in the slightest, of course. Why would he? This was probably normal for him. "Allow me to go first, Madam Garden. A familiar face may smooth things out." "You live here?" If this was his home neighbourhood, it would make sense- "The tenements are for families, Madam." Faint wistfulness, the first hint of vulnerability she's seen from him. "But I know many of my kith and kin, and hold a respected position. Do you have the case file?" "Oh, right. Sorry." She didn't mean to upset him. "It's a herd, the Fang Herd. The Herd paperwork is a bit lacking though." "Roost." "Pardon?" "It's a Roost, not a Herd. And we don't have Herd Hierarchy like you ponies do." He flicks an ear dismissively. "I take it they are not cooperating with you?" Nursery snorts. "No. Two mares are still nursing, two-" she checks the file again just to make sure she's got it the right way around, "two stallions are being ornery and the third mare who committed the assault has been taken into custody. The foal in question has been permitted to remain at home, since the aggressor is detained. This visit is to determine both how the foal is doing, and question the other adult he-roost members. Clear?" A brief pause. "The mare taken into bonds was named War Dance?" He hasn't seen the file. "How did you-" "I know the Fang roost, their character. War Dance is a naturally aggressive mare. She would have protested your investigation most belligerently." "Well, if you want to do the investigation, sir Chaplain, you feel free!" Okay, so her temper's a little frayed, sue her. Again, that stupid lack of expression on his face, but she sees that little irritated tail-flick. Hah! Let's see this stoic, know-it-all slab of brick deal with foals... X "We want our wife back." Grave Beetle is on the floor playing with the foals and the two dams, while Nursery is stuck facing down two stallions over the file paperwork. "I can't-" "You had her taken away in chains!" The one called Wolf Tooth growls. Actually growls. The sharp teeth, ominously sharp, make Nursery sweat a little. "Surely you can return her?" Adder Tongue adds on smoothly, seamlessly. She's trapped in this argument with them as they circle her with it, but neither can she actually have their herd-mate released. Truthfully, she's on the edge of tears when Grave Beetle steps up to the table. Immediately, the two stallions fall silent and incline heads in respect. "I apologize for interrupting, but the Madam speaks the truth. She does not have the authority to return War Dance, or any of our kith and kin. Rest assured I am working on it though." Before Nursery can bristle at the notion of Grave Beetle succeeding in closing the cases, he introduces someone else. "Madam Garden, this is Steel Bite." The oldest of the herd's four foals, but still young. Still with the habit of walking with wings outstretched as most Pegasi foals did for that instinctive balance. Nursery's heart promptly melts as she looks into the big gold eyes. Such a serious little colt! Oh, but what dreadful scarring on his lips... "He has a question for you, don't you?" Grave Beetle prompts. Wing draped reassuringly over the colt's back, like a doting sire. "...Why did you have damma taken away?" Eyes watering, lower lip quivering. Oh, the sweetheart... Nursery's Cutie Mark tells her that this foal wants nothing more than his dam back, and to know why, just in case it was his fault somehow. "Oh sweetie, it's alright. We wanted to ask your damma why she was hurting your sister there, but your damma got too angry to talk so she was taken away. So your sister doesn't get hurt, and you can all grow up happy and safe." Nursery has to ask though..."What happened to your muzzle, sweetie? You look like you got hurt really badly." Eyes light up instantly, sadness forgotten. "I got my Mark!" Little pronking hooves. Baring his flank so she can see...the icon of a mouth full of fangs holding a sword by it's blade. How...lovely. "There was this tin of mangos, and I loooovvvvvee mangos. But I can't work a tin opener yet...so I decided to bite the tin open! The metal was sharp and cut my mouth a lot and hurt really badly but I got it open and ate all the mangos! There was soooooo much blood though I felt scared and dizzy and then whoosh! I got my Mark! Then my sires came home and took me to Hospital. I got my Mark and some awesome scars!" How...lovely. And with her growling stomach making itself known, it gives her an excuse to retreat. Still with more questions than answer. ConfrontationThe next visit...goes much the same. Grave Beetle treated with reverence and then ignored to play with the foals, while Nursery is confronted with angry parents. Worse; crying parents. The mare distraught by her stallion's confinement. The foals afraid of her. It's just...okay, so they can't, or wont, see her side of the story. But their side of the story seems to have an undisputable reason, if only they'd tell it! She...so she's a bit forceful at times, but she's not scary! ...is she? Her stomach has won out, and she's stopped at a food cart. The vendor a tad disgruntled at having to serve a customer just as he was packing up, but whatever, she's starving. She hasn't exactly received so much as the offer of a drink from either Nocturne Family. The vendor's trotted off and the moon risen by the time she's finished her honey-roasted apple. Streetlights lighting up in their soft pale glow, turning the black into soft pools of grey and ivory. A bit scary, to her; they look like tiny islands in a sea of unstable shadow. She feels most comfortable travelling from light to light. "Am I scary, Grave Beetle?" She sighs. "To those families? Yes." There is no hesitation in the reply, which irks her a little. "Why? This is the first time of met any of them outside of case files! I'm not even monstrous-looking, for Celestia's sake!" He gives a wince at her exclamation. "Yes and no. Not you, but you represent the ponies who came and broke up their families. And, well, you're a unicorn." "Excuse me? What's my tribe got to do with it?" "Because to us Nocturnes, what is a thousand years ago to you is barely a single year ago to us. Terrae, Pegasi and Unicornae were united, yes, but just those three. Us Nocturnae, well..." he twirls a hoof. "We weren't quite pony enough to be pony. Many died..." his voice is a little choked. "But..." even to herself, her voice sounds small. "...I'm trying to help...I just want to talk, to know the truth." He rounds on her. "The truth? Hiding the truth is what has kept us safe! Then you ponies barge in and demand we tell you everything about us so you can say we're doing it wrong and make us do it your way?!" She clacks her teeth in anger. "Well maybe you are wrong! I'm trying to help foals and you're trying to cover up abuse, what's your excuse?" Silence. He removes his helmet. Exposing his face, his emotions for her to read. "...because we hide too much about ourselves to tell just one truth. One leads into another, then another...when we are finally understood for what we are, we are hated." His face is not unhandsome; broad of muzzle and high of brow. Previously constantly-moving ears now solely focused on her. His eyes are a yellow yellow yellow- "You remind me of someone, Nursery Garden. She blundered about seeking the truth too. And when she learned the truth...many died. Foals died. And it was my fault; for telling her. Their blood is on my hooves, and I've learned to keep the secrets well. So please. Let it go. I, all of us, will be out of your life forever." What can Nursery say to that? "Surely it wasn't your fault? It was hers, for choosing to take those actions? Even then, I'm not her..." Is she wrong? Would it be better to...wrap it all up and sweep it under the rug? "Ignorance is bliss, Nursery Garden. Those who know always react the same way; why would you be any different?" It squeezes at her heart. Was the world of a thousand years ago really so cruel? As a little filly she'd grown up with the tales of powerful mages and knights in shining armour that battle the forces of darkness... Forces of darkness which...had looked a lot like Nocturnes. Of course; the winners write the history books, after all. Grave Beetle isn't a monster, even when he's obstructing her. He's just trying to do what's right...and he's scared. Scared he'll be hurt. Of course he's not going to see her as different to those who've hurt him in the past. "I'm different because...you're my partner," Nursery says finally. Looking him in the eye and resisting the urge to glance away. "If I tried anything...you could stop me, easy. You're a Royal Guard and I...I'm a government-sanctioned busybody who likes sweets. I don't know any spells beyond making coloured lights to entertain foals. I don't know what happened last time, but this time...this time you're the strong one. You can protect the foals." She's not jealous that the foals like him over her, she isn't. He makes a small chittering noise, ears flicking back in confusion. "I..." Is he...flustered? "...I still can't tell you things..." "That's okay, I understand. I know you're trying to make me give up and forget all this." She yawns. "Sorry, I'm very tired...I'll leave this next family alone, if you can tell me that you know the foals will be safe." See? She can compromise. She shows him the paper with the address and a few details on it, only for his eyes to widen in shock...then narrow in suspicion. "I would...but the Void Dynasty don't have any foals..."
Case by CaseA Nocturne mare had thrown her colt off of a fifth-floor balcony. A Nocturne filly had had poisonous herbs in the sandwich of her school packed lunch, which her father had made. Another filly had been stranded by her parents on an unstable cloud-bed, the drifting nimbus disintegrating beneath her hooves. The list went on. Foals stranded in dangerous places, fed dangerous food, deliberately thrown off high places... By the grace of the Princesses, there were no casualties. Either from extreme luck at surviving the heinous abuse, or the quick thinking of concerned bystanders. A good thing too; heavens forbid, but if there had been a death then there would be angry mobs everywhere. As it was, it was already Bad. Not angry mobs just yet, the newspapers had been paid to keep quiet until the mystery had been unraveled, but that didn't stop the ugly looks and the unpleasant whispers which tended to travel faster than the efforts of the printing press anyway. Not that no measures had been taken; all of the foals involved were now in protective care in a foster home and the parents detained. Foal Services Worker Nursery Garden gave it a week until ponies started menacingly sharpening pitchforks. Or procuring them in order to sharpen menacingly, since Central Canterlot didn't exactly boast many farmers. She'd already heard unpleasant and frankly racist rumours of foal sacrifice and cannibalism and she wondered briefly if some of her colleagues and a few of the Guards needed a sensitivity seminar and those horror novels in the employee lounge confiscated. She needed to solve this case- these multiple cases -now before herd mentality and paranoia started taking effect. And she did mean solve. It wasn't as simple as having the foals placed with relatives or foster homes and the parents charged for their crimes. Not when the children were hysterical at being removed from their parents and not at all at their nearly-fatal experiences. Not when the parents seemed completely bemused at why their children were being taken away and themselves arrested. Many even flat-out denied trying to murder their children, statements which came out clean under lie-detector spells. Indeed, both children and parents were starting to get irritable and almost fearful at being taken from their loved ones. But it was for the safety of the foals. That was why Nursery was here, why this was her job in the first place. Why she was currently pinning notes to a corkboard with red string like a cheap detective novel. She thought it somewhat appropriate, because it felt like that was what this was turning into. If it worked in books it might work for her. "Miss Garden?" Lollipop Treat, a younger colleague whose main talents lay with comforting foals after being lost or going to doctor's appointments. Whose normally fluffy mane was frizzy with stress and blue eyes dangerously watery at all the distressed foals going around who refused to be comforted. "Oh you poor dear, you look run off your hooves," Nursery soothed her fragile coworker, pulling out a chair. "Let me get you some nice chamomile tea for your nerves." Frazzled shake of the head. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'd...I'd really like that." A weak smile. "But the foster-group homes need me to talk to them, want me to talk to the foals and I just-" a shaky breath, "I'm very busy. I actually came by to deliver a message though. Since you're the one overseeing the...problems?" "Not another incident?! Oh no, was everypony alright this time?" "N-not exactly." Seeing the horror on Nursery's face, Lollipop amended her statement. "No, no! I mean that somepony's come forward...with information. He's waiting by the front desk for you." Dismissing the uncertainty in the mare's voice, Nursery instead jumped on the surge of relief she felt. "Oh thank heavens! Here, if you're not going to have tea, have a sweet and come on!" Shoving her little jar of fruity candies into Lollipop's hoof, Nursery's horn lit up and pulled her now-distracted colleague by the shirt collar down the corridor. The stallion in question was everything she was not expecting. There seemed to be a shadow cast over his face beneath the plumed helmet of a Royal Guard, but it didn't hide the cat-slitted gold eyes. The dark purple armor did nothing to hide, but rather framed, the dark membraned wings furled over the broad shoulders. Surrounded by the cheery murals and comfy over-stuffed armchairs of the reception room, the Nocturne stallion looked too sharp and heavy for this world. Falling back on her habitual conversation starter, the reason she kept a jar of sweets in the first place, Nursery grabbed it from Lollipop and proffered it to the stallion. Failing to notice that Lollipop was still fumbling around inside it for her own treat and thus also tugging on her coworker's hoof in the process. Sending the poor mare muzzle-first onto the carpet. "Uh..." Nursery could feel her frayed nerves snapping faster under the weight of the embarrassment and absolute mortification. "Do you want a sweet?" She resisted the urge to shrink under the piercing glare of the gold eyes that whispered to her hindbrain to cower in place. But then they blinked. "Um," said a rumbly voice. Before an armour-clad hoof was offered to Lollipop. "Up you come now, Miss." "T'ank 'ou," Lollipop snuffled through her bruised nose. "'Ursery, d'is is-" "Chaplain Grave Beetle, Night Guard Special Investigations," is the introduction, complete with a sharp hoofstep to the snap to attention. "I've been sent to lend assistance to...some serial attempted murders? Is that right?" He pauses, suddenly. "...can I still have a sweet?" "Of course," Nursery assured him hurriedly. "Take two, for helping Lollipop. Lollipop I'm so sorry," she hissed out the side of her mouth, but the mare simply patted her shoulder in forgiveness. The stallion, Grave Beetle...should she call him Grave or Beetle? Or maybe he didn't like his name being split up? Or should she be addressing him by his rank? Chaplain? What kind of rank was that? Admittedly she didn't know much about military ranks, let along the probably very different ones of a military that had only just come back from a thousand years ago... Anyway, Chaplain Grave Beetle took two sweets. A caramel nut and a forest fruit chew. "...Let me show you what we've got so far," Nursery offered weakly, but relieved.
Red StringGrave Beetle was unsure if he was supposed to act as though he were interacting with a civilian business or liaising with a different military detachment. Certainly, he remembered the vigilantes-slash-relief-aid group, the Nurses Templar, that had been both pains and salves in the hooves of many. The revelation that their organization had dissolved over the centuries into a tax-funded scribe's job had been...not a blow, exactly. Relief, but also a sense of loss. Nostalgia, maybe? The appearance of this Foal Services ~~Headquarters~~ Offices had further thrown him off. Painted walls depicted bright cheery meadows under an equally bright sun. The exclusion of His Lady's Moon and Night almost made him wince, but. Day ponies. What could you expect? Nothing worse than what he'd already seen. First impression of his own liaison, Nursery Garden, didn't exactly assuage his impressions of this whole affair's civilian nature. Fellow officers did not exactly offer you sweets, after all, nor take their aide's(?) or his own word on his rank and credentials. Well, the last could not exactly be helped. This was a discretionary operation, needing discreet paperwork and intel-sharing, and the messenger may have been delayed in confusion at a civilian office receiving correspondence from a military one. Still, politeness was good, so he took the sweets. He was shown the corkboard of papers and red string, which was similar enough to the collation of operation intel for him to re-orient and cut through the self-conscious chatter. "Ch- ah, Madam Garden?" He had to remember that it was Madam, not...a title she wouldn't understand. Remember that he was here to test her, to ease the paths of others. He was here with his own mission, for the sake of all his kind. "I confess that I twisted the truth a little." Deep breath, steadying. "I'm here to close down the investigation." The mare's jaw drops, eyes wide in their sunny-meadow green. "What? You...this...you can't!" "I can. This is an internal affair and is already being dealt with internally." Warning the Nocturne community, arranging for the involved parents and foals to be released...trying to arrange, at least. There were...barriers. Awkward questions being asked that they could neither answer, ignore or make excuse for. Barriers that they need someone on the inside to clear for them. Nursery Garden, in his split second of silence, has screwed up her face in puzzlement, staring at him. "You...you're trying to scare me!" "Causing you fear is not my intention-" Half a lie. He wants submission, acquiescence. Not fear. "Not like that! You're bluffing!" Accusatory now, angry exuberance. "If your ponies could close the investigation down, you wouldn't be here talking to me! I'd have just gotten some, I don't know, intimidatingly vague letter on my desk. No, you need me to talk to ponies for you so you can do what you want!" Silence, heavy. He has to give it the compliment it deserves. "You are remarkably astute." An irritable huff, a small impatient hoof-stomp. "I have a cutiemark for figuring out what foals want, and grown ponies aren't so different I can't see the similarities. Now," she raises and taps her hoof on his pauldron with a smirk. "How about you tell me what's really going on?" "That's confidential information." The words slip out as easy as breathing and just as reflexive. She sweeps her hoof round, gesturing to the office at large. "All of this is confidential, private, in one way or another. I can handle it, keep a lot of secrets. Lives are at stake, Beetle! Foals' lives!" And how many lives, foals, would be in danger if the truth got out? "Some things are better not to know! The world is big enough to lose yourself in and the truth hurts! ...I'm asking you, please, to turn away and ignore this." "No." Just like her forerunners of the Nurses Templar, the mare refuses to let go of something she's got a jaw grip on. Quieter words, though. All the more stubborn for it. "I don't trust you." Green eyes glare at him, nostrils flared. Head lowered slightly, in an unconscious ready-charge stance. Then it folds, retreats, as she turns her back to him and faces her corkboard of red string. Dismissing him. "I'll just solve this case myself then." No. If she does figure it out...it'll all be over anyway. Unacceptable. If she won't drop the case either...he has no choice. He'll have to contain it. "I'm afraid I can't do that, Madam Garden." "Huh?" Turning back towards him, he nearly winced at the sudden apprehension in her gaze. She had expected him to capitulate to her own confidence. On the back hoof now, now that he was still here and voicing his own intentions. "I will neither help nor hinder you...but I cannot allow you to report whatever you may find. Congratulations, Madam Garden, I am now your assigned minder for this case." She blustered. "You can't do that! That's...that's stalking! Harassment! Illegal!" "Not if the citizens of Equestria are endangered. If foals are endangered." Scowling at him turning her words back against her, she lights her horn and levitates a piece of paper over to him. "Well then. I will get to the bottom of this, if only to prove to you that it's not worth the secrecy. Since you've appointed yourself my assistant, you're coming with me." He recognizes the address on the paper. "We're doing interviews."
VisitationIt might have been afternoon, but Celestia's sun was still high and bright. Nursery only took real note of it because Grave Beetle seemed unaffected as he followed her out into the street. Showing no discomfort standing in broad sunlight even as they went to the corner to hail a chariot. Not that Nursery believed in the old mare's tales and movie tropes of Nocturnes turning to dust in sunlight, but they were nocturnal. "Are you alright being up at this hour?" Golden eyes flicking to her, she thinks that the gloom the helmet casts over his face seems almost permanent. "Being active during Day is...strange to me, yes. Not intolerable, and I have done it before." Well, that was good. "I take it our subjects for questioning are also living on a day-centric cycle, or a crepuscular one?" "What's a crepuscular?" She asks. "Waking from midday to midnight," he explains. Nursery feels her face heat in embarrassment at her own ignorance. "Yes, crespu- uh, crepuscular, that. Though one family is Nocturnal, so...it's going to be a late night for me. Well, for both of us since you're joining me." "Hm." His only acknowledgement is the flick of a tufted ear, and Nursery is fine with that. He's an unwanted foalsitter and this is business. Returning her focus to her sheaf of papers, she flicks through the contents. Might as well catch up on the details; it's a long chariot ride to the first visit on the very edge of Canterlot. More efficient to go to the furthest away during daylight and work back from there, since a lot of chariot routes close at sun-lowering. Safe city aside, it's a little creepy walking back at night. She wonders; would Grave Beetle find it the opposite? Is walking in daylight unnerving in the same way she finds walking at night? Curious, she glances over. Grave Beetle is sat right next to her, but from what little she knows of Pegasi behaviour, he's stiff and professional. Wings furled tight, tail held close to the side away from her. Front hooves set together, back straight and alert. Ears constantly swivelling to catch sound. She catches glimpses of short grey fur, but otherwise, shadow sticks to the underside of every segment of armour. He couldn't look more like a recruiting poster if he tried. A lot of those posters had been torn down in the first week. The Night Guard remained dominated by Nocturnes. If this whole thing with the foals got out...it would be even worse. Nursery understood why Grave Beetle wanted this all covered up, she got that. But somepony had to get to the issue at the root. Somepony had to make sure the foals were safe. Didn't he get that? "Is something wrong, Madam?" Grave Beetle's voice jolts her from her musings. Looking at her with a neutral expression. Oh no; she's been staring dreamily at him the whole time! "No." She says curtly, returning her attention to her case files. "Just lost in thought." X Just because she's seen it before doesn't mean Nursery doesn't wince. Faded, slightly tattered banners hang from the balconies, interspersed with bones. Not Nightmare Night props, but actual bone bones. Eugh. Macabre decorations aside, the tenement block is almost silent. She just can't shake the feeling of being watched. Grave Beetle isn't disturbed in the slightest, of course. Why would he? This was probably normal for him. "Allow me to go first, Madam Garden. A familiar face may smooth things out." "You live here?" If this was his home neighbourhood, it would make sense- "The tenements are for families, Madam." Faint wistfulness, the first hint of vulnerability she's seen from him. "But I know many of my kith and kin, and hold a respected position. Do you have the case file?" "Oh, right. Sorry." She didn't mean to upset him. "It's a herd, the Fang Herd. The Herd paperwork is a bit lacking though." "Roost." "Pardon?" "It's a Roost, not a Herd. And we don't have Herd Hierarchy like you ponies do." He flicks an ear dismissively. "I take it they are not cooperating with you?" Nursery snorts. "No. Two mares are still nursing, two-" she checks the file again just to make sure she's got it the right way around, "two stallions are being ornery and the third mare who committed the assault has been taken into custody. The foal in question has been permitted to remain at home, since the aggressor is detained. This visit is to determine both how the foal is doing, and question the other adult he-roost members. Clear?" A brief pause. "The mare taken into bonds was named War Dance?" He hasn't seen the file. "How did you-" "I know the Fang roost, their character. War Dance is a naturally aggressive mare. She would have protested your investigation most belligerently." "Well, if you want to do the investigation, sir Chaplain, you feel free!" Okay, so her temper's a little frayed, sue her. Again, that stupid lack of expression on his face, but she sees that little irritated tail-flick. Hah! Let's see this stoic, know-it-all slab of brick deal with foals... X "We want our wife back." Grave Beetle is on the floor playing with the foals and the two dams, while Nursery is stuck facing down two stallions over the file paperwork. "I can't-" "You had her taken away in chains!" The one called Wolf Tooth growls. Actually growls. The sharp teeth, ominously sharp, make Nursery sweat a little. "Surely you can return her?" Adder Tongue adds on smoothly, seamlessly. She's trapped in this argument with them as they circle her with it, but neither can she actually have their herd-mate released. Truthfully, she's on the edge of tears when Grave Beetle steps up to the table. Immediately, the two stallions fall silent and incline heads in respect. "I apologize for interrupting, but the Madam speaks the truth. She does not have the authority to return War Dance, or any of our kith and kin. Rest assured I am working on it though." Before Nursery can bristle at the notion of Grave Beetle succeeding in closing the cases, he introduces someone else. "Madam Garden, this is Steel Bite." The oldest of the herd's four foals, but still young. Still with the habit of walking with wings outstretched as most Pegasi foals did for that instinctive balance. Nursery's heart promptly melts as she looks into the big gold eyes. Such a serious little colt! Oh, but what dreadful scarring on his lips... "He has a question for you, don't you?" Grave Beetle prompts. Wing draped reassuringly over the colt's back, like a doting sire. "...Why did you have damma taken away?" Eyes watering, lower lip quivering. Oh, the sweetheart... Nursery's Cutie Mark tells her that this foal wants nothing more than his dam back, and to know why, just in case it was his fault somehow. "Oh sweetie, it's alright. We wanted to ask your damma why she was hurting your sister there, but your damma got too angry to talk so she was taken away. So your sister doesn't get hurt, and you can all grow up happy and safe." Nursery has to ask though..."What happened to your muzzle, sweetie? You look like you got hurt really badly." Eyes light up instantly, sadness forgotten. "I got my Mark!" Little pronking hooves. Baring his flank so she can see...the icon of a mouth full of fangs holding a sword by it's blade. How...lovely. "There was this tin of mangos, and I loooovvvvvee mangos. But I can't work a tin opener yet...so I decided to bite the tin open! The metal was sharp and cut my mouth a lot and hurt really badly but I got it open and ate all the mangos! There was soooooo much blood though I felt scared and dizzy and then whoosh! I got my Mark! Then my sires came home and took me to Hospital. I got my Mark and some awesome scars!" How...lovely. And with her growling stomach making itself known, it gives her an excuse to retreat. Still with more questions than answer.
ConfrontationThe next visit...goes much the same. Grave Beetle treated with reverence and then ignored to play with the foals, while Nursery is confronted with angry parents. Worse; crying parents. The mare distraught by her stallion's confinement. The foals afraid of her. It's just...okay, so they can't, or wont, see her side of the story. But their side of the story seems to have an undisputable reason, if only they'd tell it! She...so she's a bit forceful at times, but she's not scary! ...is she? Her stomach has won out, and she's stopped at a food cart. The vendor a tad disgruntled at having to serve a customer just as he was packing up, but whatever, she's starving. She hasn't exactly received so much as the offer of a drink from either Nocturne Family. The vendor's trotted off and the moon risen by the time she's finished her honey-roasted apple. Streetlights lighting up in their soft pale glow, turning the black into soft pools of grey and ivory. A bit scary, to her; they look like tiny islands in a sea of unstable shadow. She feels most comfortable travelling from light to light. "Am I scary, Grave Beetle?" She sighs. "To those families? Yes." There is no hesitation in the reply, which irks her a little. "Why? This is the first time of met any of them outside of case files! I'm not even monstrous-looking, for Celestia's sake!" He gives a wince at her exclamation. "Yes and no. Not you, but you represent the ponies who came and broke up their families. And, well, you're a unicorn." "Excuse me? What's my tribe got to do with it?" "Because to us Nocturnes, what is a thousand years ago to you is barely a single year ago to us. Terrae, Pegasi and Unicornae were united, yes, but just those three. Us Nocturnae, well..." he twirls a hoof. "We weren't quite pony enough to be pony. Many died..." his voice is a little choked. "But..." even to herself, her voice sounds small. "...I'm trying to help...I just want to talk, to know the truth." He rounds on her. "The truth? Hiding the truth is what has kept us safe! Then you ponies barge in and demand we tell you everything about us so you can say we're doing it wrong and make us do it your way?!" She clacks her teeth in anger. "Well maybe you are wrong! I'm trying to help foals and you're trying to cover up abuse, what's your excuse?" Silence. He removes his helmet. Exposing his face, his emotions for her to read. "...because we hide too much about ourselves to tell just one truth. One leads into another, then another...when we are finally understood for what we are, we are hated." His face is not unhandsome; broad of muzzle and high of brow. Previously constantly-moving ears now solely focused on her. His eyes are a yellow yellow yellow- "You remind me of someone, Nursery Garden. She blundered about seeking the truth too. And when she learned the truth...many died. Foals died. And it was my fault; for telling her. Their blood is on my hooves, and I've learned to keep the secrets well. So please. Let it go. I, all of us, will be out of your life forever." What can Nursery say to that? "Surely it wasn't your fault? It was hers, for choosing to take those actions? Even then, I'm not her..." Is she wrong? Would it be better to...wrap it all up and sweep it under the rug? "Ignorance is bliss, Nursery Garden. Those who know always react the same way; why would you be any different?" It squeezes at her heart. Was the world of a thousand years ago really so cruel? As a little filly she'd grown up with the tales of powerful mages and knights in shining armour that battle the forces of darkness... Forces of darkness which...had looked a lot like Nocturnes. Of course; the winners write the history books, after all. Grave Beetle isn't a monster, even when he's obstructing her. He's just trying to do what's right...and he's scared. Scared he'll be hurt. Of course he's not going to see her as different to those who've hurt him in the past. "I'm different because...you're my partner," Nursery says finally. Looking him in the eye and resisting the urge to glance away. "If I tried anything...you could stop me, easy. You're a Royal Guard and I...I'm a government-sanctioned busybody who likes sweets. I don't know any spells beyond making coloured lights to entertain foals. I don't know what happened last time, but this time...this time you're the strong one. You can protect the foals." She's not jealous that the foals like him over her, she isn't. He makes a small chittering noise, ears flicking back in confusion. "I..." Is he...flustered? "...I still can't tell you things..." "That's okay, I understand. I know you're trying to make me give up and forget all this." She yawns. "Sorry, I'm very tired...I'll leave this next family alone, if you can tell me that you know the foals will be safe." See? She can compromise. She shows him the paper with the address and a few details on it, only for his eyes to widen in shock...then narrow in suspicion. "I would...but the Void Dynasty don't have any foals..."
