The Party Planner

Chapters

The Baltimare Riots: The Status Quo
The Baltimare Riots: Players in the Act
The Baltimare Riots: Cake and Balloons
The Baltimare Riots: Family Ties

The Baltimare Riots: The Status Quo

THE RIOTS OF BALTIMARE:

“Many settlements in Equestria rebelled against the heresies of the Houses, refusing to follow down the paths of madness and bow to traitors. So they became so-called “Rebel” cities, acting as havens to rebel factions and refugees from the Houses and their senseless power disputes. One such Rebel City was Baltimare, a port city seated on the Gulf of Manehatten one of the few ports left that could ferry ponies across the Sea of Harmony. Baltimare became a gateway for desperate ponies willing to risk pirates, storms, and the creatures of the sea, to try their hooves in a new land away from the warring of the Houses.

But there were only so many ships that could be spared, and none of them without a cost. The ship captains, seeing the desperation of the refugees, inflated their prices demanding great amounts of bits for the dangerous trip across the Sea of Harmony. Many refugees simply couldn’t afford the ferry, and became stuck in Baltimare, trying to scrabble together enough bits to leave the city. But Baltimare had already been crowded in the times before the war, and the more refugees became stuck within its walls, the less shelter could be found.

The refugees were forced to live in The Derelicts, abandoned sections of Baltimare following a siege orchestrated by House Moon and Star during the first few years of the city’s “Rebellion”, the siege discontinued so that Moon and Star could turn their attention to House Earthborn, as they became a legitimate threat. The refugees were pushed into the bitter and broken homes laid low by the very violence they had been trying to escape. Angry and bitter at the worth deemed to them by the city, the passage to safety denied to them by their poverty, and the cruelty to which ponies subjected them, the refugees withdrew from the everyday workings of Baltimare, forming their own enclave within The Derelicts, withdrawing from the ponies who grew ever-more tired of their presence.

But such a withdrawal was not enough for the Baltimare citizenry. As time passed food shortages began to shake Baltimare, the city unable to keep its own fed. Its fishing wharfs, once prosperous, were now being beaten out by Whitegold boats, who could afford cannons to enforce their claims to the most lucrative fishing grounds. The farms outside of the city had been devastated by Moon and Star in times past, and Whitegold pirates raided supply ships from over the Sea of Harmony. The only source of food became what House Whitegold deigned to sell to Baltimare, at highly inflated prices that the Baltimare ponies had no choice but to meet. The refugees spent their last remaining bits on the high priced food and the Baltimare citizens watched their funds dwindle down to nothing, their economy decimated, the once wealthy city quickly becoming a downtrodden cesspool, dead and stagnant.

Looking for somepony to blame, a scapegoat to take their anger out upon, the Baltimare citizenry turned to the most obvious tragedy of the war available to them, the refugees. They began to protest the presence of refugees in Baltimare, citing their outrage at the refugees drain on their city’s resources, citing crimes committed by refugees, some true, some false, as reasons to deny them a place in Baltimare, comparing them to conquerors taking over the Derelicts, and demanding that they be thrown out of the city.

The refugees, enraged at the unjust accusations and demands of the protesting ponies, responded in anger, forming protests that galloped shouting through the city, starting riots, and attacking notable anti-refugee figureheads, before retreating back to The Derelicts. This only angered the citizen ponies of Baltimare more, and while the Rebel Factions and the Baltimare City Council attempted to negotiate with the angry ponies, all attempts at compromise and peaceful resolution ended in failure. Misery, hatred, and soul-crushing poverty brought the tempers of the Baltimare citizen and refugee ponies both to a boil, to the point that they cared more about destroying what they viewed as a blight on their lives than they did about the very lives they felt were attacked, and as tempers rose so to did a body count…”

From The Scholars Notes

The shouts echoed through every nook and cranny of Baltimare, over the tall grey stone houses of the city, packed together tightly with thin little alleyways between them, black slanted shingle rooftops, and lamplights shining from inside. Hooves pounded against the dark and mud-caked cobblestone paths of the city streets, past the few and scattered black iron lampposts planted along the sides at the edge of thin concrete sidewalks, casting their dim and flickering lamplights across the shadows. Their light was joined by the dancing lights of fire and flame, as the hoof beats got closer, fires illuminating the walls of houses down the street, past a corner, torches lighting up the night…

A young filly barely older than a foal, an Earth Pony with a bright yellow coat, red fluffy mane and tail, and bright green eyes, stood on the sidewalk of the street beneath a lamplight, a wide smile on her little face, as she looked down to a shiny red ball that she was bouncing against the street with her hoof.

She looked up from her ball-bouncing with her right eyebrow raised, a curious look forming on her features as the lights from flames illuminated the surfaces of the houses at the end of the street, along with moving, violent shadows, whipping about in a frenzy, in the vague shapes of ponies, shadows cast from torches as the shouts rose in volume, and the hoofs beat closer…

The little filly’s eyes widened with surprise as a hoof wrapped around her waist and pulled her up quickly off of the street, sending the little red ball from her grasp, bouncing into the street. A purple-coated mare, Earth Pony, with a fluffy green mane and tail, soft yellow eyes, and a cutie mark of a hammer and chisel on her flank, looked down the street with panic in her eyes at the red light and shadows on the wall… Quickly she turned, with the filly in hoof, and galloped back through an open door, into her house, slamming the door shut behind her… And the little red ball rolled slowly into the middle of the street… coming to a stop at the very middle, hints of red light starting to reflect off it’s surface…

The little filly staggered on her feet as the mare put her down just past the doorway, and looked up with wide surprised eyes, bottom lip starting to tremble softly, a little moisture forming at her eyes.

“M-mommy, m-my ball-”.

“Shhh Merry Gold I need you to be quiet sweetie, okay?” Spoke the mare quickly, her voice anxious while trying to be soothing, and her eyes still panicked, moving her teeth down to a brass bolt-lock on the inside of the door and pulling it over, locking the door, then standing up on her hind legs to reach the brass chain-bolt at the top pulling it over and sliding it into place with her teeth, before turning her head back to look to the little foal.

“Honey, I need you to go get me the upstairs lantern, okay?” Spoke the mother gently as Merry Gold, sniffling softly, her lower lip trembling, nodded, before turning and moving over to the stone stairs with wooden railing and magenta carpeting covering them. The filly had to pull herself up step by step, still sniffling, with her little legs as the mare moved away from the door, and into the house’s living room.

The living room was patterned with a magenta carpet and a round soft light red rug in the middle of it. There were dark green couches on either side of the rug and a pair of green cushioned seats in front of an empty stone fireplace. A grandfather clock against the wall beneath the stairs ticked away at the time away, and a round wooden table sat between the couches on top of the rug. A lit brass lantern in turn sat on top of the table, shining its light all across the living room… and out of the large glass window looking out onto the street.

As the sound of the shouts got louder, the mare moved quickly over to the window standing quickly on her hind legs and bringing her hooves up to the dark purple curtains on either side of the window. Quickly she pulled them together over the window, lowering her head and sighing out heavily, gritting her teeth, some moisture seeming to form at the edges of her eyes… She shook her head quickly, and turned to move over to the table in the middle of the room. She leaned over the brass lantern, bringing her right hoof forward to the lantern’s glass cover, tilting it back and leaning down close to the flame. She took a deep breathe, and then quickly blew out the flame, snuffing out the fire and plunging the room into darkness…

As she set back the glass over the now lightless lantern, the tiny grunts and hoofbeats of Merry Gold could be heard on the stairs, and a shaky light started to illuminate the room. The little filly made her way down the stairs, holding a brass lantern by its handle in her mouth, eyes squinting a bit with the effort, legs shaking a little.

“Gwot et!” Spoke Merry Gold past the handle as she brought the lantern down, and the mare, glancing towards the window once more, as though to make sure she’d really drawn the curtains, moved over quickly to meet Merry Gold, looking back to her as she got down to the base of the stairs.

“Very good sweetie! Now put it down right there, that’s it.” Spoke the mare, trying to be gentle as Merry Gold placed it down on the bottom step, her eyes tearful, bottom lip trembling lightly, sniffling gently as she looked to her mommy.

“M-mommy? I-I’m sorry I stayed up, I-I just wanted to play with m-my ball!” Spoke the little filly, as she started to move from sniffling towards full-on sobbing.

“It’s okay sweetie! It’s okay…” Spoke the mare, moving quickly over to Merry Gold, wrapping her hooves around her in a hug, and turning her gaze to the brass lantern as she held the shaking little filly close.

“I know you just wanted to play with your ball… bedtimes bedtime for a reason sweetie, you can’t stay out after dark…” Spoke the mare softly, as she moved her left hoof forward to the lantern, tipping back the glass as she’d done with the other, leaning down to blow out the flame.

Merry Gold, her eyes buried in her mommy’s coat, didn’t even notice as the room went dark, hugging her mommy close and crying gently, little hiccups starting to move her body.

“I-I’m ‘hic’ I’m sorry m-‘hic’ mommy! I didn’t m-mean ‘hic’ to!” She spoke, crying into her mother’s coat, as the mare looked to the door, the sounds of the hoofbeats and shouts starting to come through the wood.

“Its okay sweetie, its okay, just don’t do it again okay honey? Mommy needs you to be a good filly and stay in after dark from now on, okay?” Spoke the mare, holding Merry Gold tighter as her eyes moved rapidly over the living room, trying to remember if there was anything she’d forgotten. As satisfied as she was going to be, she moved back a little, bringing her hoofs up to Merry Gold’s shoulders, and moving down so that she was looking Merry Gold in the eyes, faces close in the dark.

“Now sweetie I’m going to need you to stay quiet for me, okay? Until I say that it’s okay to talk. Can you be quiet for mommy?” She asked gently, smiling softly as the little Merry Gold sniffled a bit more, and nodded gently, her bottom lip trembling.

“U-u-huh…” She spoke, as her mother smiled gently…

“That’s my good filly…” Spoke the mare softly, before gently moving to Merry Gold’s side, left hoof wrapping around her, leading the young filly into the living room, over towards the closer of the two couches.

“Let’s just sit and snuggle for a bit, okay? Let’s cuddle on the couch…” She spoke, her voice quiet, at a whisper, as she moved up onto the couch. Merry Gold, still sniffling gently, her eyes wet, crawled up into her mommy’s lap. The mare, as Merry Gold did so, wrapped her hooves gently around the little filly, bringing her right hoof up to stroke the young pony’s mane gently… Looking down to her sweet little Merry Gold with soft eyes and a gentle smile… then turning her eyes to the wooden, fear replacing joy, and a lump in her throat forming… gulping it down softly, she turned and buried her face in Merry Gold’s mane, as the sound of shouts and trampling hooves got louder and louder, light from the fires dancing through the slit of space in the drawn curtains…

“Please sweet Celestia, please let them be a city mob, please don’t let them hurt Merry Gold, please…” whispered the mare gently into her filly’s mane, wrapping her hooves around her tighter, eyes squeezed shut as she held her beloved Merry Gold tight in her hooves, snuggled up against her coat…

The little red ball, left alone in the street, reflected the fire from the torchlight… and in its shiny red reflective surface, ponies could be seen rounding the corner from the end of the street onto the street proper. These ponies seemed to galloping, shouts surrounding the air around them, fire in the torches they carried, and the light from the fire glinting off the steel prongs of pitch-forks, the blades of knives, the edges of axes… If the little red ball could have thought, it might have thought- “Well bu-” just before the beating hooves of the mob trampled it into tatters…

The mob consisted of ponies of every kind and size… big and small, strong and weak, naked and finely clothed… Earth ponies, Pegasus ponies, and Unicorn ponies alike raced in the thundering herd of a mob, but all of them had a few things in common… They were all citizens of Baltimare, they were all carrying something unwholesome in some way, and they were all actively looking for trouble…

As the herd thundered down the street, the fires from their makeshift torches reflected off the shut windows, illuminated the locked doors, and cast shadows upon the stone surfaces of the buildings as the mob stampeded by. Signs bopped up and down with the thundering herd, held aloft by ponies of all kinds, some were levitated, some were held by teeth and jaws, and others were tied into position with straps upon the backs of ponies, held up with propping and binding, leaving the hooves and mouth free to more violent pursuits… The signs bore many different phrases, and were born by many different ponies…

“CAST THEM OUT!” Was one message scrawled in black charcoal on a piece of white cloth, stretched out and nailed onto a wooden signpost, bobbing up and down as it’s Pegasus holder galloped, her coat a bright white, her mane a bright yellow, her Cutie-Mark a simple blue feather, and her eyes a violent purple. She turned her head as she galloped with the herd, so that the sign could be held aloft while clenched in her teeth, the rage of her message more important than her being able to see straight.

“THROW OUT THE LEECHES!!!” Another sign read with the words in bright red and a fairly well painted picture of a fat pony with his face buried in a large pile of food below the words on a wide wooden sign being levitated in a green aura by its Unicorn designer, a stallion with fine gentlemanly clothing, a dark green coat, a nice black mane with grey streaks, a short fine mustache, a Cutie-Mark of a knife and fork crossed over, and aggravated grey eyes.

Yet another sign proclaimed in big black letters “BALTIMARE IS OURS!” on a piece of white poster board, held strapped to the back of an Earth Pony stallion, the sign shifting a bit with every step he took. The stallion in question had a dark brown coat, a white mane, bright blue eyes, and a cutie-mark of a big blue fish on his flank.

These ponies carried more than signs however… Tucked beneath her wing the Pegasus wielded a pitchfork with barbed tips glinting in the firelight. Floating beside his sign, the unicorn made sure to levitate a half-broken bottle of wine, the sharp shards sticking out. And in the teeth of the Earth Pony was the handle of a carving knife, held tightly in-between his teeth, blade glinting from the light of the flames…

They were far from the only ones who went prepared to kill… Every member of the galloping mob had brought something with which to harm other ponies. The herd was armed with clubs and knives, hatchets and pitchforks, flame and rocks… Their hooves hit the streets with purpose, even as they shouted and yelled under the dark night, carrying dancing shadows with them on the surfaces of the houses, the raging mob relentlessly going to their destination, and prepared to do great evil upon arrival…

The mare held little Merry Gold close, biting her lower lip and shivering with her little filly wrapped in her hooves, as the flames passed by her window, and the stomping hooves and shouting throats echoed throughout her home, all around her, the sound barely discernable, but the wrath of those making it unable to be denied … And then the lights were gone, and the sound of the hooves and yelling began to fade…

The mare opened her eyes, slowly, blinking away moisture that she wasn’t aware had collected there, and turned her gaze to the window… She waited a few moments, quietly, listening, barely daring to breathe as she listened to the noises fade… Then, as she became sure that they were leaving, she breathed out a shaking sigh… her body trembling from the sheer release of nerves, as she turned her gaze back down to the little filly in her hooves…

Merry Gold’s eyes were closed, her tiny body breathing softly in the hooves of her mommy, eyes still a little wet from crying… she had fallen asleep… sniffled, hiccupped, and cried herself to sleep, her little body already tired from staying up past her bedtime… The mare blinked as she looked at the sight of the little filly who had slept through one of the most terrifying moments of her life… and then she smiled gently, closing her eyes and bowing her head softly, moisture reforming at the corners of her eyes…

“Thank you…” She whispered gently, leaning down to kiss Merry Gold’s forehead gently as a single tear ran down her cheek, her little filly sleeping peacefully in her hooves, and the sounds of all-consuming rage faded from her street…

But not from the city. The sounds of the thundering herd continued down street after street, twisting its way through the city moving with one objective, one purpose, to cast out those who they hated, who they blamed, and their hooves lead them towards the mares and stallions whom they had declared their enemies, and the violence they craved to unleash…

Pounding around a corner, the mob found their way to a short stretch of cobblestone street that ran up to a wide stone bridge, arching over a river that ran through Baltimare… The bridge was broad, strong, and old, made from a hard grey stone, slightly cracked and worn over the years, but still mighty, still durable, and over it, lay their objective… The Derelicts.

On the opposite side of the bridge was another patch of cobblestone street with buildings on either side… Buildings that were old, dilapidated, broken, battered worn out, and in poor repair… Numerous buildings could be seen to have holes in their walls, or walls missing completely, and instead of stone and brick, wood and cloth had been used to fill up the gaps, hastily erected to shield those within from the elements. The glass in nearly every window had long since shattered, most of them were boarded up, or had only a cloth or blanket covering to hold out the rain and noises from the city. Shingles from the roofs were missing in droves, and in more than a few cases the roofs were partially missing themselves. In some, what remained could no longer be called a roof at all. Many doors were old, battered, and scratched, and some were downright missing, replaced with cloths hanging from hooks, or custom doors made with hammer and nail, or just blocked off by old crates.

The most noticeable aspect of this street over the bridge however, was not its buildings… but the ponies who stood in the middle of the street, in a herd as large as the one that faced them across the bridge, with torches of their own and weapons to… The ponies of this herd stood with stumps where horns had once been, cutie-marks ripped off their flanks and replaced with crude coverings and cloths sewn over, and ponies with wings cut apart, only the skeletal remains of the wings sticking out from the backs, plucked free of feathers… The refugee ponies stood grim, and defiant, marked and bruised and scarred, with bedraggled and dirtied coats, raggedy patchwork clothing, and vicious, brutal clubs, hatchets, knives, broken bottle parts, and numerous other weapons… The refugee ponies looked grim, they looked angry, they looked grim, and they looked ready to fight…

Like their opposites they stood together, with hatred in their eyes, and as the galloping mob of citizens came to a stop on the other side the bridge, both sides glared into the eyes of the across the bridge, over the water, the light from their flames dancing against their faces in the night, two burning armies just looking for an excuse…

The air was still as the two sides stared each other down… No words were said. None were needed. The shouts and slogans, the angry slurs, even the signs they still carried, all the mob’s bluster, had been for their sake alone. The refugees didn’t need to hear it… the mob didn’t want them to hear it. If they had decided to pack up and leave in that very instant, the mob would have pursued them anyway… They were angry. They were enraged. And they were looking for somepony to vent that rage upon…

The hatred was returned by the refugee ponies… the hatred that the ponies bore for each other was clear in their eyes… And as the fires and the flames danced across the shadows, both herds silent, all ponies ready, the ever-encroaching moment that each of them could feel drew closer, and closer, to that final moment… that moment when life would be taken, and blood spilled in rage…

Tense moments ticked by… and in the background, almost imperceptibly at first, but rising in pitch, a strange kind of soft music began to play… It was harmonious while off-putting, joyful while discordant, filling up the silence with pleasant yet oddly dark tones, drifting over the two pony herds, one of Citizens, one of Refugees, staring each other down with a hatred born in the pits of fear and desperation…

A hornless Unicorn tightened her mouth around the handle of her knife… A winged Pegasus pawed the ground… A wingless Pegasus began to twitch his right eye… A bedraggled Earth Pony clutched his rake beneath his curled left leg… A horned Unicorn started to let the edges of her mouth curl up… And then the music hit a high note, followed quickly by a low discordant tone…

“AAAAAHHHH!!!!” Came the roar from the citizen herd as they charged forward.

“YAAAAHHHH!!!” Came the yell from the refugee herd as they galloped ahead.

The pony herds swarmed over the bridge from opposite sides in a rushing tide of rage, ramming into each other with a wave of swinging clubs and jabbing knives, piercing pitchforks and bashing hooves. Stallion fought stallion, mare fought mare, pony struck pony, with no regard to their lives or by whom they were loved, driven by their anger, driven by their hate… And in a darkened alleyway, down the river past a curve, looking out from a dark alleyway nestled between two houses, a figure, shrouded in the darkness grinned wide… And started to chuckle softly, with what sounded like a young stallion’s voice.

“Heheheheh…”

A Unicorn Mare wearing a fashionable dark-blue cape, with a light pink coat, dark purple mane and tale, and light teal eyes with a Cutie Mark of a hammer crossed over a saw on her flank, swung her very real hammer, encased in a pretty purple glow down into the head of a bedraggled Earth Pony Stallion with the Cutie Mark of a set of three sunflowers on his flank. She brought the hammer down again, and again with her magic, cracking his green coat open and dark-blue mane, striking him down hard onto the stone bridge, his yellow eyes rolling up into the back of his head, blood spilling from his cracked, dying his mane and coat red as it spilled over onto the stone…

“Heeheeheeheehee…”

A Pegasus Stallion with a dark green coat, baby blue eyes, falcon as his Cutie Mark, and bright red mane, who had naught but stumps for wings, jammed the cutting edge of his carving knife into the throat of a fit looking Earth Pony Stallion with a cutie-mark of a violin and bow upon his flank. The Earth pony, with a light brown coat, dark brown mane and tale, and chocolate brown eyes, seemed truly surprised, as the blade dug into his windpipe… and even more so as the Pegasus gritted his teeth, and pulled the blade to the side, cutting open the throat, blood spraying onto the Pegasus’ wings, back, and coat, and all over the stone of the bridge as the Earth Pony collapsed.

“Hahahahahahahah!”

An Earth Pony Stallion with iron horseshoes, dull golden coat, black mane and tail, sharp magenta eyes, and a patch brown leather sewn over where his Cutie-Mark should have been, reared up on his hind legs, and struck out against a Pegasus Mare with his hooves. The Pegasus, with her light blue coat, soft grey eyes, Cutie Mark of a chicken on her flank, and purple mane and tail, fell to her stomach with the force of the strike. The Stallion reared up again, eyes filled with rage, and brought his hooves down again, and again upon the Mare, smashing her head against the bridge, blood pouring out from the wounds, skull and bones cracking as the blood spattered up onto the Stallion’s coat and face, his eyes wild as he pounded the Mare’s head into mush.

“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!”

The figure laughed in the dark as the wrongly upbeat and disturbingly pleasant music continued to play… The mob continued to beat each other senseless, almost indistinguishable from one another so entwined were they, so eager to rip each other apart… Blood and mane and skin were everywhere, bodies were trampled on where they fell, and blood poured over the sides of the bridge, dripping into the gentle river below, red streaks snaking through the water, as the butchery continued, the mysterious stallion laughed, and the music continued to play…

… … …

Hours later, the sun rose on Baltimare… the light of the morning stretched over the streets of the city… over the houses, over the port, over the river of Baltimare… and over the bridge. The light stretched over the bloodied bridge, with signs discarded, torches snuffed out in blood, mane and fur and fragments of bone, scattered across the bridge… But upon the bridge dried in blood, red stained upon the stone, not a single body was to be seen… The corpses of the raging ponies had been taken, to serve a use they had never suspected… and somewhere, in a dark alley where nopony could here… a pony, with a wide grin on his face and a happy gait in his step, was snickering…

Author's Note

Here's chapter number one. I hope that it brings some joy to you, and if it doesn't, please be polite about it in whatever critique you may write.

The Baltimare Riots: Players in the Act

THE RIOTS OF BALTIMARE

SECOND VERSE

“The riots in Baltimare grew steadily worse as supplies dwindled further. The Whitegold pirates in the Gulf of Manehatten began to raid rival ships going to and from Baltimare almost indiscriminately. The ships that would have been able to carry refugees across the Sea of Harmony stopped coming for fear of pirate activity, removing any hope the refugees still had for salvation. The refugees were consumed with bitterness, and as the outrage of the citizens continued, so to did the resentment of the refugees. The riots became more frequent, and more violent, with more pony blood spilling on the streets of Baltimare, more pony souls going to Tartarus, giving in to their hate…

However, despite the large number of understandable factors contributing to the violence, the actual levels of said violence were strange when compared to historical examples in ancient pony times. Port cities with a refugee population locked in and an already present citizenry during a food crisis are not many in pony history, however what few other examples there are have riots on a far less frequent and widespread level than Baltimare did. They also tended to be less violent, even back in the fabled days before Celestia and Luna…

The main difference between the city riots of distant pony past, and the Baltimare riots of the unfortunately recent past, became painfully obvious upon a closer look at the Baltimare Riots, specifically their aftermaths. Shortly after the rioting in Baltimare turned violent, the bodies of ponies killed during riots disappeared, and sometimes rioters as well, only to appear later back on the streets. After a brief moment of examination of the known classifications of units in the Equestria Divided war, the true cause of the Baltimare riots became painfully clear. The Cult of Laughter.

The Cult of Laughter is responsible for encouraging, and perhaps even orchestrating entirely, the riots within Baltimare. The reasoning behind their manipulation of events is a simple one. Like a virus, the Cult of Laughter infects a host with the hopes of reproducing, and in the process damages or even kills the host. The riots within Baltimare filled ponies with fear and misery, and the streets with the dead. The Cult of Laughter thrived in dark times due to their immense effectiveness in luring and converting emotionally and mentally unstable ponies. The Cult was able to attract far greater quantities of ponies to their cause as Baltimare became more, and more terrifying a place to live in, and every dead pony on the streets was additional fodder for the Laughing Mare’s armies.

The notable oddity in this behavior that makes it at first seem unlikely or at least improbable is that the Cult’s influence in Baltimare was beyond immense even before the riots. The formation of the Baltimare Jesters, a sub-sect of the Cult responsible for assassinating the Cult’s enemies occured within Baltimare, and it was there still that they had their most important training temple. Baltimare was filled with churches and shrines to the Laughing Mare, hidden but very much present, and many Baltimare ponies were in fact members of the Cult before the riots. However the Cult of Laughter, despite their tactical stake in Baltimare, can be truly said to just not care what happened to the city. The Cult was after the hearts and minds of ponies, not territory, one of the major differences between it and the traitor Houses. They wouldn’t rest until every pony in every part of Equestria worshiped the Laughing Mare, alive or dead, and if an entire city had to bleed for the ponies within it to serve their beloved deity… then so be it.”

From The Scholars Notes

SPLASH!

DRIP!

SPLOSH!

The mop made streaks of soapy suds and water on the stone. The dried red of the blood began to pull up from the stone and melt into the water and soap mixture. Bubbles rose up from the suddy water as a dozen ponies wiped away at the signs of the former night’s brawl left on the bridge, the dried blood seeping into the soapy mixtures…

On both sides of the bridge small wooden barricades had been erected. Small mobile barricades, easily moved and primarily there to inform the ponies of Baltimare that official business was taking place and they were not to disturb it… The white laminated signs across the barricades with the words “RESTRICTED” printed in red upon them over and over again was a helpful hint. The large armed ponies standing behind the barricades, two to each on both sides, was another.

Ponies of the Baltimare Militia wore studded hard leather armor covering their backs and sides, with leather straps fastened tight beneath their stomachs, keeping the armor in place. Their hooves were covered with steel guards, and their heads with steel helms, their manes hidden beneath the helms. They stood strong, at attention, mostly stallions, with their hooves clutched around sharp steel spears with wooden shafts, the tips of the spears glinting in the light of the sun… The guarding militiaponies kept a watch on both sides of the street as the cleaners removed the blood from the bridge, though on the Derelict’s side it appeared unneeded… the street within The Derelict’s district was empty, not a hoof or a sound coming from it, only silence from the abandoned buildings, as though no refugee wanted to be anywhere near the bridge and the ponies guarding it…

One of the cleaning ponies on the center of the bridge was a young Earth Pony stallion, with a dull white coat, short messy black mane and shorter black tail, light brown eyes, as well as a Cutie-Mark on his flank showing a pink bar of soap with soapwater beneath it and bubbles coming up from it. He wore a white uniform upon the front-half of his body, made out of a slightly reflective and non-stick material, stopping half-way to the flank and with two sleeves going down to just above the hooves on his two front legs. The uniform stopped at the neck in a collar, no buttons, and upon the top of his head he wore what looked like a small white baseball cap, made of the same material.

He gripped the shaft of the mop in his teeth, as he plunged it down onto the stone, and wiped in big wide circles, before pulling it up off of the stone and dunking it into the large yellow rolling bucket at his side, filled with a mixture of soaps combined with water that would hopefully remove the blood… the mixture turning red as the substance it was designed to get rid of.

The pony stretched his neck up a bit, eyes closed, gritting his teeth a bit as he stretched, then letting out a sigh, rolling his head side to side, then bringing his right hoof up to his cap, removing it from his head for a moment to bring his left hoof up to wipe his brow. He turned his head as he did so, and opened his eyes, looking from where he stood across the bridge towards The Derelicts… no ponies upon the street, houses illuminated in the light of the day, dilapidated messes, ruins made up with spare scraps and pieces, nothing but ruin and oppression all around…

The young stallion continued to look at The Derelict’s for a few more moments, a soft sorrow in his eyes… then he lowered his head and sighed, closing his eyes again as he brought the hat back to his head with his right hoof, then brought his hooves down to the stone as he leaned over to his mop, and grasped it with his teeth. He pulled the mop forth once more, some soapy cleaning water splashing, as he brought the mop back down, and continued to scrub in big circles, getting the blood out of the stone as best they could… for the third time this week…

As the young stallion and the other cleaners worked, a pair of figures stood back on the street on the Citizen’s side of the city, the city proper and while aged, unruined. They stood in the middle of the street between the buildings that were nowhere near as dilapidated as those of The Derelicts, though perhaps the ponies within them soon as destitute as those in The Derelicts…

One of these ponies was a tall Pegasus mare with a dark red coat and sharp golden eyes. Although not bulky she was larger than a usual mare, more muscular than most, and definitely more intimidating, even just standing still. A brutal scar went down from the edge of her left cheek down her neck to her shoulder, and her mane and tale were a bright yellow, her mane cut short in a stripe along her head, and her tale worn thin and long. A hint of her Cutie-Mark, a steel helm bathed in a light beam, could be seen upon her flank, though partially covered by her armor.

She wore the armor of a Baltimare Militia pony, minus the helm. Then in addition to the normal armaments she wore a leather belt circling beneath her armor over the armor straps, with a leather sheathe hanging from the belt at her left side, a leather-wrapped steel handle sticking out from the sheathe, belonging to the steel long-sword that was nestled firmly within it. As an extra precaution her tail was braided down its length with small strips of brown leather, and at the very end of said tail was a small black iron ball, a little larger in width than the tail, held by the braid, a weapon ever-ready to be used…

To her right, stood an older Earth Pony stallion, thought not yet elder, with a well-groomed light grey coat, and a black mane, grown long and luxurious, with a few choice streaks of dark grey running through it. His eyes were a cold hard grey, his tail was about medium length and brushed to be as luxurious as his mane, and his Cutie Mark was that of a raven, perched on top of a small arching stone bridge. He wore a fine black dress jacket on the front-half of his body, with a high-collar turned up at the back and the jacket open. With the front open the white silken dress shirt he wore, buttoned up the front with white buttons up to a collar just above the base of his neck, shorter than the high-collar of his dress jacket. In the center of the collar was a silver pendant with an oval green gem, the pendant positioned just-so. Black silken ruffles stretched out beneath the pendant just a couple of inches, covering a small portion of the top of his white dress shirt.

Both ponies stood looking towards the bridge and the work being done upon it… The Pegasus’s brows furrowed, and the Earth Pony with a grim look upon his face, mixed with eyes that looked tiredly unsurprised. The street was mostly empty, however the occasional citizen or Militia pony passed by on the sidewalk or further up the street as they stood watching… and then black-maned Stallion spoke his voice straightforward and calm.

“My great great grandfather built that bridge. He made that bridge with his own four hooves. Mined and sculpted the stone to do it to. He worked hard on that bridge, often having to start over when he made a mistake that would ruin the whole bridge. And with constant work, trial and error, and an almost irrational attention to detail, he finally created that bridge there, that has stood there for generations. It took him over a decade to make it, and after spending all that time and all that energy on that one project do you know what he charged travelers to use the bridge for which he’d worked so hard and so long? What he charged the workers, and the guards, and the people of Baltimare to use it? Nothing. Because he’d built the bridge for the love of building, and not the profit to be gained.” Spoke the Stallion, quiet for a moment… before continuing.

“I can’t help but wonder… if he could have seen into the future, see what ponies would do upon it, upon his beloved bridge which he put so much hard work and toil into, would he have torn it down? Would he have felt that that was better than to let it be so desecrated?” Asked the stallion calmly, quietly, looking to the stone…

The Pegasus Mare besides him cleared her throat, looking down for a moment and pawing at the cobblestone with her front right hoof, before straightening up again, and speaking in a gruff, somewhat awkward, trying to be polite voice.

“Do you think that Mayor Morning Mist?” Asked the Pegasus, her right eyebrow arching slightly.

“No Captain Sun Prancer I do not.” Spoke the mayor, turning away from the bridge curtly and walking down the street calmly in a steady gait, away from the bridge, the Pegasus captain turning to follow after him at the same gait.

“I take after my great grandfather, who made a claim for the land of houses and business that rose up around aforementioned bridge in the Equestrian courts after his father’s passing and acquired the right to charge them rent.” Spoke Morning Mist calmly, continuing his calm steady gait as he spoke.

“I am a pragmatist Captain. I look at things from a practical standpoint, weighing their worth against their cost.” Stated the Mayor simply, before turning his head back to look over his shoulder towards the captain, his eyes narrowed.

“For example, I’m weighing your worth Captain against the cost of employing you. Considering that you and your militia are unable to keep the peace your employment could be considered to be wasted bits.” He spoke, agitation obvious in his voice, as the captain met his gaze with a steely-eyed look of her own.

“With all due respect Mayor Mist I haven’t received those “Bits” in over three months… and with an understaffed garrison, militiaponies who haven’t been paid either in said months, and nine injuries in the last week alone dealing with an increasingly hostile population, I think that you’re lucky to have a Militia at all much less somepony willing to be it’s Captain. Practically speaking.” Spoke Sun Prancer, not missing a beat. The mayor made a light huffing sound in response, before looking back forward down the street.

“Your point is taken Captain… and you are right. The troubles plaguing our city are so numerous and severe that a breakdown of the city government is almost assured… The city is facing the greatest crisis since its formation… And that’s just the start.” Spoke the mayor, eyes still narrowed as he walked down the street.

“A letter from our Rebel allies arrived in my office this morning captain. It stated that we would have to forgive them for not sending us the promised aid package, primarily because the ponies who were going to deliver it were killed, and the package was stolen.” Spoke the mayor bluntly, Sun Prancer’s brows furrowing as the Mayor continued.

“Every chest of bits, every barrel of food, every blanket and every last scrap of lumber… all gone. The rebels suspect bandits due to the evidence of low-quality clubs and hatchets having been used. However the aid package was stored next to a counting house at the time of the theft, which still had a great deal of bits within that required sorting. That resources appears to have been left untouched, even though said counting house was relatively unguarded, and the supplies were taken so quietly, the ponies lives ended so effectively, that nopony knew what had happened until a day later.” Spoke the mayor, a dry tone entering his voice.

“To take our relief and leave a counting house untouched, slip in as quiet as the night itself, and leave with every scrap without being caught, that doesn’t sound like the work of bandits…”

“No. It sounds like House Whitegold.” Stated Captain Sun Prancer, firmly, with no hesitation or doubt in her voice. The mayor nodded calmly, still looking ahead as he spoke once more.

“It matches their methods. Denying us resources to force reliance on them is an old trick of theirs by now, and the timing is too coincidental. Without that shipment we won’t be able to meet the minimum debt payments to the House this month. They’ll have the right to claim our ports, and if we refuse to hand them over, they’ll have a very legitimate reason to attack… Based on business and not militaristic expansion. Easily justified to the other Houses and unlikely to harm their trade relations…” Spoke Morning Mist, before lowering his head and sighing out in aggravation.

As the Mayor lifted his head back up again he stopped short, blinking in surprise as a spinning pink Frisbee passed in front of his eyes. A little Unicorn colt with a light blue coat, dark blue mane and tail, golden eyes, and blank flank, passed in front of him, seemingly not even noticing the mayor giggling excitedly as he galloped forward on his little legs after the Frisbee. Right on his heels was a little Pegasus filly with a pink coat, bright red mane and tale, green eyes, and blank flank of her own, laughing lightly as she ran after him, or possibly after the Frisbee.

The little colt turned his head, puffing up his cheeks, his horn glowing a light gold for a moment. A tiny gold aura formed around the little filly’s front-left hoof for a moment and the little filly tripped falling to the cobblestone with an “Oomph!”

The filly got back up, tiny golden circle around her hoof gone as she shook herself off and some dirt out of her mane. Even as she stood, the colt reached the Frisbee, leaning down to grip it in his mouth and pulling it up, jumping up and down excitedly with the Frisbee in his mouth.

“I gwot et, I gwot et!” He shouted excitedly his mouth around the Frisbee, as the filly looked after him with wide eyes and a wide mouth, shocked and appalled, before shouting out.

“Hey! No fair! You tripped me!” Running forward towards him as the colt shook his head.

“Dwid nwot!”

“Did to!” Shouted the filly reaching him.

“Dwid nwot!”

“Did to you cheater! Give it back!”

“Nwo!” Replied the colt, shaking his head and turning to run down the sidewalk, away from the bridge towards the corner, attempting to keep the ill-gotten Frisbee.

“Hey! Come back! Give it back!” Shouted the filly, running after the colt as he rounded the street corner, in front of a militiapony, the filly hot on his heels as the militiapony stood there, letting himself have a slight smile beneath a pair of tired eyes, before looking hard and official once more.

The Mayor and the Captain both stood in the street for a few moments longer, looking after where the children had gone, the Mayor with a tired look on his face, and the Captain with a… saddened one… her eyes narrowed lightly and head bowed slightly, her entire figure seeming to droop somewhat.

“… It appears even our foals are not free from conflict.” Spoke the Mayor simply, continuing to watch that one little spot as he spoke in a tired, even exhausted voice.

“I’ve often wondered if the practical thing to do in this situation would be to hand over Baltimare to Whitegold. Just let them take over as they desire. They have the money, the connections, the resources, and the arms to keep bleeding us dry, or even take our home directly if they so choose…” Spoke the Mayor, closing his eyes.

“… But I know how they treat those in their own city. The impoverished there are as bad off as those here, perhaps worse… They would not save this city. They’d simply find another way to exploit it… And the ponies who live here would just be tools for their use.” Spoke the Mayor, before bringing his head back up, eyes opened in a glare.

“And they don’t even have the decency to claim otherwise… Damn them to Tartarus.” Spoke the Mayor harshly, before stepping back into his slow gait down the street, Captain Sun Prancer blinking, then shaking off the gloom that seemed to have settled on her, refocusing her eyes, looking to the Mayor and following his hoofsteps, as he continued to speak, his voice bitter.

“Unfortunately I do not have the luxury of treating the enemies of our city as such. I have to look them in the eyes and ask them for handouts. The amused looks in their eyes, the condescending tones… the arrogant backstabbers they send never fail to fill me with rage…” Muttered the Mayor, narrowing his eyes once more.

“A new one is coming though. A representative of Manehatten’s Merchant District and that bit-snatching mule Diamond Tiara. One of the House’s nobility, a Lady Glitterstone.” Spoke the mayor, spitting out the name as though it was a poison.

“The rumors surrounding her are unwholesome to say the least… She’s known for being a ruthless businesspony as decadent as she is rich, and she’s coming here to discuss our debt to her House and renegotiate our payment plan. I’ve had to call an emergency meeting of the City Council to receive her, seeing as she’s arriving this afternoon.” Spoke the Mayor as they reached the end of the street, the Baltimare militaponies keeping a watch at the corners.

Captain Sun Prancer stopped short, falling back behind the Morning Mist as she was informed of this event, eyes going wide and an angry curve gathering at her brow.

“Why didn’t you tell me about this?! We have to arrange security measures fo-” She started to speak, before the Mayor cut her off curtly.

“No you won’t Captain.” Spoke the Mayor, turning his hard gaze to meet Sunprancer’s angered one.

“The Lady Glitterstone didn’t deign to inform us of her arrival until this morning. Her stated reason was to reduce the risk of attempted rebel assassinations. Realizing that Baltimare is going through hard times, and not wishing to be a burden upon our Militia, she has taken the liberty of bringing her own security… And hopes we won’t mind if they occupy the safehouses set aside for Whitegold visitors, as negotiated in previous contracts.” Spoke the mayor, a sarcastic bitter tone to his voice as he looked into the captain’s eyes. The captain’s eyes went from anger to realization, and then a cold hard gaze graced her features, her expression turning grim.

“They’re going to occupy the city.” She spoke, making a statement of fact as she looked to the mayor.

“Yes, they are. And if they choose to attempt a takeover, our Militia will not be able to stop them in its current state. It’s highly probable that many of our beloved militiaponies would join them.” Spoke Morning Mist, a dry tone to his voice.

“However House Whitegold despises direct confrontation, and they have a comparatively small army with which to enforce their claim. On top of that they are still in conflict with various Diamond Dog tribes for control of their gem mines. They won’t risk an attack on the city unless they’re certain they can take it with minimal losses. They’ll resort to their more familiar tactics of trickery, bargaining, bribery, blackmail, and outright extortion, to take Baltimare.” Continued the mayor, before turning back to look across the street, the sound of quickly pounding hooves and rolling wheels against the cobblestone starting to sound from down the street around the corner.

“First they’ll attempt to force the hooves of the Council into passing a bill that declares Baltimare a vassal-city of Whitegold, using the aforementioned tactics and the simple fact that we are indebted to them. During this process, Whitegold will attempt to bribe me, blackmail me, or extort me, into signing the Bill into law. And when that fails, they’ll simply assassinate me before I can veto it. Without my signature they’ll have to wait three months for it to become law, but it will become so…” He spoke dryly, as a carriage rounded the corner.

The carriage was pulled by two Baltimare militiaponies, strong stallion Earth Ponies, one to the left with a dark brown coat, blue eyes and short white tail, and one to the right with a soft blue coat, magenta eyes, and short black tail. The carriage came screeching to a halt as the ponies stopped short in front of the mayor and stood, calmly, at attention, waiting for Mayor Morning Mist to mount the carriage.

The carriage itself was made from a dark wood, and crafted to be sturdy and durable while slightly artistic, with some carvings of, ships, ravens, and the stone bridge of Baltimare on each side. It was open at the front and top with a seat cushioned by green cushions, the four wheels of the carriage reinforced with steel studs, and the militiapony harnesses made from a mixture of arching wood, boards back to the carriage, and studded leather reins.

The mayor calmly leapt up onto the padded seating of the carriage, turning to look forward and taking a seat on the cushioning, before speaking calmly once more his voice still dry.

“I’ll be in my office in the Council Hall should you have need of me Captain. Later tonight after the Council Session ends I will be in my mansion, awaiting the machinations of the Lady Glitterstone.” He spoke simply, before turning his head back down to look towards Sun Prancer.

“I trust that in the meantime you’ll make things as difficult for Whitegold as possible, without causing a scene preferably… and take careful note of who you trust Captain. Ponies become very open to suggestion when bits are shoved in front of their noses…” He looking with meaning into Sun Prancer’s eyes… before looking forward to the stallions in front of his carriage, and giving them a nod of his head.

The militiapony stallions began to gallop at the nod, pulling the carriage away and the Mayor with it, down the street, around the other corner, and out of sight…

Sun Prancer stood there, in the street for a few moments just looking where the carriage had disappeared from. Before lowering her head and sighing, closing her eyes…

“Trust… Yeah. Cause there’s got to somepony left in this town who wouldn’t lynch me for ten bits and a bite from a sandwich… Or maybe just the sandwich…” She muttered, sarcasm mixing with tired aggravation… Then something twitched at the back of her skull, in the shadows of her mind, like an itch she’d never be able to reach.

She snapped her head up quickly, eyes going wide, before narrowing, and sharply moving all across the buildings and over the street, searching rapidly for something, something that she knew she’d find. Her eyes came to a stop as they reached the opening of an alleyway between a pair of houses, a little down the opposite street from her… She leaned forward a bit, peering deep into the shadows of the alley… And then something seemed to move in the shadow, a shrouded figure turned, cloth from a cape or cloak fluttering into the light of the street, a hint of red, before the figure vanished into the alleyway.

Sun Prancer gritted her teeth, growling in her throat, and then drew her head back, raising herself up and turning her gaze sharply to the nearest Militiapony.

“You!” She spoke, addressing the surprised pony who quickly stood to attention.

“Go to the bridge and tell the cleaning crew to wrap it up, quickly! I want them off the bridge within the next ten minutes!” She spoke, and the militiapony nodded quickly, turning, and bringing his spear up to his mouth, clenching it in-between his teeth as he galloped quickly over towards the bridge.

“And you!” Spoke Sun Prancer, turning her gaze to the militapony opposite of him, standing at attention.

“Go back to the barracks and tell the Lieutenant that I’ll need a roster of all active Militia squads and their patrol schedules drawn up and ready for me upon arrival! Quickly!” She spoke, and the second militiapony nodded, brought his spear up to his teeth as well and quickly began to gallop away, around the corner and down a street, disappearing from Sun Prancer’s sight…

She waited a few moments as the audible galloping of steel hooves against cobblestone faded… And then turned her eyes glaring to the alleyway where she’d seen the figure disappear into. She growled low, a look of rage in her eyes as she spread her wings, and with a couple of flaps rose into the air, before darting through the street, and into the alleyway…

…

Sun Prancer’s steel-clad hooves touched the dirt and grime of the cobblestones upon the alleyway. She tucked her wings to her sides, eyes glaring ahead into the shadows. She walked forward keeping a steady gate as she moved down the long stretch of alleyway that ran behind several houses, dirt and grime covering the cobblestones…

She kept her slow steady gait up as she moved down the alleyway, the houses on either side shielding the alley from the rays of the still rising sun, casting shadows from the houses, darkening sections where the light from the streets didn’t funnel in…

Sun Prancer breathed in deep and out lightly, keeping her gait steady as the feeling at the back of her skull, scratching behind her mind increased… She moved her eyes rapidly all over the alleyway, her breathing getting faster, sweat beginning to form on her brows, eyes zipping all over the dark and-

She squeezed her eyes shut, taking a deep breathe in, and slowly breathed out again, then took another deep breathe in… She calmed her heart down, calmed her body down, and whispered softly to herself.

“Keep it together Sun Prancer. You’re a captain damnit. Act like one.” She muttered, before shaking her head slightly, and opening her eyes once more… And then blinking, and narrowing her eyes as she saw what might have been a glint in the darkened shadow of a boarded up building.

WHOOSH!

Sun Prancer’s eyes snapped open and she leapt back, opening her wings and flapping backwards as a chain snapped through the air, attached to a large flying steel double-bladed axe head with a spike sticking out from the top, the blade slamming down into the ground where Sun Prancer had been standing with a-

CHINK!!!

The axehead lodging itself in the cobblestone… Sun Prancer flew backwards into the alleyway, landing on her hooves and bringing her body low to the ground, ready to pounce, looking to the axehead and chain, and the figure that emerged from the shadows behind them…

Thud, thud, thud, thud…

The heavy hoofbeats of a large pony could be heard, each step making an audible thud against the cobblestone ad the figure at the end of the chain emerged from the shadows, walking into the sunlight, long steel chain gone slack, clasped in his mouth between the teeth, his happy, grinning mouth…

The pony was a huge, muscular stallion… with a shabby, raggedy bright yellow coat, and a short-cut bright orange mane that looked as though it had been hacked at with the scissors, and could serve as a small rat’s nest if the rats were willing to lower their standards. His bright orange tail had been cut into a tiny little tuft on his flank, and just as hastily and clumsily as his mane. His mouth was grinning wide with big powerful teeth, drool dripping over his pearly whites and onto the steel chain, then down over his bottom lip and chin, before falling in little droplets of drool and spittle onto the ground.

Like Sun Prancer the figure had a scar, one that sliced down over his left eye-socket, ugly and vicious to look at. The eye in that socket, a bright blue orb, appeared to be fine save for some red tendrils spreading out in the whites of the eye around the iris. The eye in his right socket on the other hoof was a bright green with no sign of red within it.

Another scar that graced his features was upon his forehead. An ugly mass of scar tissue bloated and jagged, as though something had been viciously and ruthlessly cut from the spot the marks of the event still evident. Then, upon his flank, what could be seen of it, was a complete lack of a Cutie-Mark… instead, a patch of dark-green coat looked to have been sewn onto his flank, over where his Cutie-Mark should have been. Other scars were smaller and on his body proper and legs, just here and there, cuts and nicks from who knew how many battles.

He wore what looked like a rough red cloth upon his neck, going up to below his chin, and down to his body, where a brown hard leather covering, with steel plates sewn along the top and a red rimming around the bottom of the leather covering, went all the way along the top half of his body back to his flank, the tip of his tail just barely sticking out beneath it. The hard-leather cover bent down further near the front-half of his body to cover the tops of the pony’s legs, and a poofy red cloth circled around the tops of the legs, over the leather. A hardened white cloth, stitched together along the sides with clear seems running down, went down from the poofy red cloth to just above the pony’s hooves, where it stopped with a red lining running around it’s bottom for each leg.

Aside from the lack of a hood he was dressed as one of the Cult of Laughter’s Revelers, with a much longer chain than the majority of them used… and from the grin on his face, the glint in his eyes, the drool running down his chin, and the chain clutched between his teeth, he was very much looking forward to doing some reveling.

Sun Prancer gritted her teeth as she looked with rage into the mad pony’s eyes… the itching at the back of her head got worse. She shook it off, and then lowered her head further, growling audibly as she turned her head to the handle of her sword, and gripped it with her teeth.

CRACK!!!

The sound of the axe tearing up from the cobblestone filled the air as the Reveler whipped his head back, pulling the axe loose in a shower of stone and dust, before whipping his head around and sending the chain in an arch through the air towards Sun Prancer.

SCHLIK!

The sword left Sun Prancer’s scabbard, clutched in her teeth as her wings opened up and flapped hard, pushing a gust of air against the stone, kicking up dust as she took off, up above the chain as it passed by beneath her, axe-blades glinting viciously as they shot through the air.

Sun Prancer lifted herself up on another powerful flap, and then turned in the air and with another mighty flap of her wings, shot herself towards the Reveler. The Reveler pulled back quickly on his chain, stepping back as he did so, the chain flying back hard towards him.

Sun Prancer’s eyes widened as she judged the speeds and distances of herself and the chain by instinct alone, and quickly flipped back and spread her wings, breaking her momentum just as the axe-head passed underneath her once more, the Reveler rising up to his hind legs, mouth opening, and catching the chain by his teeth once more, just beneath the axe-blade…

He hit the ground again with a thud as he brought his hooves back to the ground, and Sun Prancer, growling around her sword in frustration, turned her body back down to face towards the Reveler, and moved down towards him, striking at him with her sword from the air.

CHIK!

Sparks flew as metal met metal, the Reveler blocking the strike with the axe-head, held taught and firm against the strike by the chain in his mouth. He backed up, as Sun Prancer, eyes narrowed and enraged, struck down again towards the Reveler, again and again, pushing himself back into the shadow that he’d hidden in from the start.

CLINK!

The sparks near the end of the shadow.

CLASH!

The Reveler still backing up, Sun Prancer in the air.

CHANG!

Near the center of the shadow, another swipe and another blocked strike.

CHIK!

A top strike down barely blocked by the Reveler, forcing him back further.

TING!

A strike near the other end of the shadow, blocked by the Reveler, forced to stand on his hind legs.

WHAM!

The Reveler stumbled back out of the shadow on his hind legs, nose bursting out blood, as he fell onto his back in the alleyway, hitting the ground with a heavy-

THUD

Dust rising up from around his massive form as Sun Prancer flew out of the shadow, sword in mouth, blood dripping from the iron ball at the end of her tail…

The Reveler started to sit back up, but Sun Prancer flew down hard into his chest, forcing him back down and knocking the air out of the Reveler with an-

“Oomph!” Sounding from his body. Sun Prancer brought her blade down to the Reveler’s neck, the mad pony still grinning wide, looking at her with excitement in his eyes, as though the fact that he was the one on the ground with a bleeding, probably broken nose didn’t make this any less fun for him.

Sun Prancer narrowed her eyes and crinkled her nose. His smell was atrocious, his unwashed form stank to the clouds. And he made the scratching at the back of her head worse, much worse, and he was so repugnant, it all made her so angry!

She growled around the handle of her sword, and turned her head, the point of her sword gleaming as it rose up towards the rising sun, and her eyes flashing as she snapped her head back, bringing the sword singing down to-

ZAP!

Sun Prancer flew off of the Reveler’s body as a bolt of pink energy struck her, sword flying form her mouth and clattering onto the cobblestones of the alley. She hit the alleyway on her back, wings spread, and blinked her eyes, dazed, as she started to roll over onto her hooves.

WHOOM!

Suddenly she felt herself lifted into the air, blinking, turning her head rapidly trying to her move her hooves and failing, trying to flap her wings but her wings held in place, her entire body engulfed in pink energy…

“Awwwww, now why are you two playing so rough? After all, Heheheheh, we’re all part of the same family…” Came the low voice of a young stallion as hoofbeats sounded against the cobblestones, and a pony came into view from out of a shadow Sun Prancer hadn’t even seen before… A shadow that wasn’t there anymore as the pony moved closer grinning wide…

The pony was thin and lanky, almost skeletal, with a shabby coat colored a pale deathly blue. His eyes were a bright, intense pink, and his mane was a wispy long white, hanging down long past his head and down his neck in an unkempt, overgrown mess of long hanging strands. His tail was about medium in length, thin, and as shabbily and messily kept as his mane. There were however far more interesting physical characteristics of the pony than his lack of hygiene which very much stood out against the norm…

One such characteristic was the long, brutal slits in his cheeks, cut open from either side of the mouth, giving him a brutal and ugly permanent smile, the coat peeling back a bit to show flesh around the slits. These slits had been crudely sewn up with what looked like tiny leather strips, crisscrossing down the lengths of the slits, pulling them together as they looped through the skin, the strips stretching to accommodate the jaw whenever the pony spoke or changed expressions…

Another noticeable characteristic was the presence of a bright pink horn, jutting out of his head with a sharp pointed end, completely mismatched against his coat, glowing a light pink as he used his magic. Red scars snaked from the horn around his head, going only a few centimeters out from it, like tiny little veins sprouting from the spot, with a circle of red scarring immediately around the horn, slightly inflamed up against the bright pink Unicorn horn…

A final characteristic that drew stares and comments and whispers, was the Cutie-Mark upon his flank, the one that told his true self according to all known legend. His Cutie-Mark consisted of a red and white jester hat with three bells at the end of three protrusions from the hat, and a white smile beneath it… The symbol of the Cult of Laughter, emblazoned there upon his flank for everypony to see…

The young starved stallion wore a simple red and white patched cloak… The cloak was made from sturdy tarp-like cloth pieces, roughly stitched together with needle and thread. It covered the top of his body and some of the sides down to a bit past the flank, occasionally covering and revealing his Cutie-Mark as it shifted. The cloak was made up of one big white cloth square at the upper-left, one big red cloth square at the upper-right, one big red cloth square at the lower-left, and one-big white-cloth square at the lower-right. All stitched together into one big cloak covering his body, with a small red hood stitched into the cloak near the neck from rough cloth, not pulled up, with several strands of his mane falling about it.

The figure continued to walk forward with a slow steady gait, his hooves tapping against the cobblestone lightly as he moved.

“The Laughing Mare calls to each of us, in her own, heheheheh, special way…” He spoke, grinning, before lowering his head and coughing lightly, his body stumbling forward a bit, before he raised his head again, grinning wide with his ugly grin, the leather threads across his cheek-slits stretching as he moved.

“And siblings shouldn’t, hahah, fight, no matter how fun, heheheheh, it might be…” Spoke the macabre figure, a spark in his eyes as he stopped next to the Reveler, who slowly pulled himself up to his four hooves.

“Isn’t that right, Peppy?” Asked the pony innocently, turning his gaze over to the Reveler.

The Reveler, opened his mouth, letting the chain drop out, panting hard with the blood spilling down from his nose, and over his lips, mixing mucus and blood with his saliva as he breathed, eyes wide and wild.

“Oooohhh…I can never stay mad at you Peppy, heheheh, but you simply must learn a little restraint one of these days, hahahahah…” Spoke the figure, reaching up with an affectionate hoof to Peppy’s hair, rubbing the orange would-be rat’s nest with his hoof, Peppy lowering himself and giggling lightly, tongue hanging out of his lips, happy for the attention… The thin pony turned his attention back up to the floating captain, Sun Prancer with her eyes glaring, sweat on her brow, a lump in her throat, and her lips shut tight. The feeling at the back of her mind, the scratching, the itching, was getting worse and worse, it was practically unbearable, and she hated that he was the one causing it, that out of all of them it had to be HIM who was here and doing this to her! Her greatest source of shame…

The figure lowered his hoof back down from Peppy’s mane onto the ground, looking up to Sun Prancer with a wide smile and a spark in his eyes.

“My dear, dear Sun Prancer… it’s been a little while…” He spoke, and then pitched forward slightly, coughing and hacking, his body shaking as he wheezed… … He stopped coughing and just stood there for a few moments, head hanging down, messy mane hanging all about, obscuring his features as he breathed in and out heavily, chest rising noticeably with each intake and outtake of breathe… and then… he chuckled.

“Heheheheheh…” the sound was soft, his shoulders starting to shake lightly as he chuckled… and then he began to laugh, his shoulders shaking harder as he flung his head up, eyes wide and bright, his mouth stretching wide in an expression of joy.

“Hahahahahaha!!! Hahahahaha! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!” He laughed out, and then lowered his head again for a few more moments, taking in deep breathes… then slowly raising his head up to look to Sun Prancer again, a glint in his eyes. The aura around Sun Prancer dissipated suddenly, and she fell to the ground, hitting it on all hooves, ready to move… but unable to. Her body wouldn’t respond, and she looked down into the eyes of the unnaturally famished creature in front of her, as he leaned up with a grin, inches away from her face, and looked into her eyes, his own bright pink orbs seeming to glow from the energy that dwelled inside of them…

“And we my dear, heheheheh… have a LOT of catching up to do…” He spoke, chuckling softly once more, horn glowing brighter… as Sun Prancer felt her heart drop to the pit of her stomach and-

FLASH!!!

… And the sun rose up higher in the sky… shining it’s light down into an alleyway, clearing out the shadows, showing a bit of blood and drool, a crack in the cobblestone where it had been ripped up, and three slightly smoking spots on the cobblestone, where three ponies had been standing… now just black marks in the stone, to show they were ever there at all…

Author's Note

I actually have no idea if anypony else sees this. Maybe it's meant for just me... I'll have to check on that. In any event, I hope this came out alright, and that it doth entertain appropriately.

The Baltimare Riots: Cake and Balloons

THE RIOTS OF BALTIMARE

THIRD ACT

“It’s often wondered how the Cult of Laughter is able to function. This wonderment comes from the most common perception of the Cult of Laughter, which is that of a disorganized rabble of crazed giggling maniacs without a sentient thought in their heads. If this was the case, then the Cult of Laughter would not be the threat that it was, and would be easily dispatched. As it is, while the members of the Cult of Laughter are indeed insane, they tend to be very, very good, at hiding it.

The first matter, of hiding insanity, is not so difficult as one might think. While true, much of the time members of the Cult of Laughter spend their time giggling, laughing, chuckling, and smiling wide, they do know how to put on a façade. In fact, many acting troupes seem to have joined with the Cult of Laughter, helping aid their spies and networks and even teach more Cult members to “act” normal. Even if there are abnormalities, these tend to get shrugged off, as most everypony is so caught up in their own lives that they don’t notice the ticks and signs that would suggest other ponies aren’t quite right in the head. Even ponies laughing obviously while trotting down the street might be taken for good friends, or a stumbling foul-smelling Laughing Dead taken for a drunk from a distance. The truth is it is much easier of the Cult to hide when it wants to than most ponies assume, which makes it all that much easier for the Cult to sneak in.

On the matter of recruitment, when the Cult of Laughter does show its true colors, it shows them happily. With smiles, laughter, parties, and games. The Cult of Laughter acts in such a way that ponies can forget there even is a war, or stop caring that there is one, getting caught up in the joy and wonderful laughter, the pure bliss of worshipping the Laughing Mare. This is often heavily contrasted against utter misery in the ponies lives, a misery that the Houses only help perpetuate.

For example, in Manehatten, the Undercity is a prime hub of Cult activity, because there the ponies are so poor and daily crushed by misery that madness seems preferable to the toiling joyless lives they typically lead. In Earthborn territories, the majority percentage of Cult members are dehorned Unicorns, who having lost their magic and parts of their most intimate selves search for something to fill the void, something that the angry and bigoted citizens of the Earthborn won’t provide, but the Cult will. Likewise, in the Moon and Stars territories, the most common Cult of Laughter members are slaves, both escaped and chained, especially those who have seen their Cutie-Marks removed. And that is only the barest bones of the matter, the Cult’s message applies to everypony in this time of crisis, as loved ones are lost and lives are ruined. The miserable masses are easy prey for the Cult’s wiles, and they are very much aware of this.

Another inaccurate view of the Cult of Laughter involves them being stupid and disorganized. This is one of the worst possible myths that ponies could embrace. While traditional insanity is debilitating, even in those cases the unfortunate insane are not necessarily unintelligent. The madness that the Cult of Laughter embraces while also debilitating, is debilitating in a spiritual manner, with an emotional detriment rather than a mental one. In short, the mad of the Cult of Laughter typically possess the level of intelligence they had before they became members of the Cult, even when they do not appear to have such.

As for disorganized, the Cult of Laughter is kept extremely well-informed by its messenger, the Bearer of Good News, a mysterious pony also known as the “Mad Prophet”. Considering the general state of the Cult of Laughter’s sanity somepony bearing this title is likely worth considerable study. The Prophets of the Cult also seem to be able to predict events with uncanny accuracy, and there are rumors of the Laughing Mare giving subtle hints and informative riddles to her chosen. Add this to the Cult having spies in every House, and the result is a discordant yet highly effective system of communication between the Cult cells and churches. The Cult of Laughter has been able to create supply lines, organize military actions, and corrupt cities in this manner. They are far from disorganized.

In short, the Cult of Laughter, despite its insanity and chaotic nature, acts as a single entity, connected through the powers that command them and the will that leads them. They are devoted, insane, and willing to do anything to further advance the will of the Laughing Mare. You can’t necessarily tell them on the street, and you could know one for years without ever knowing their true allegiance. And you could find yourself alone, desperate, hungry, miserable, and broken inside, walking up to their doors, and knocking, begging to be let into their order just to feel joy again, just so that you can be happy… And they’ll take you in with a hug and a smile, because every new convert is a boon to their Laughing Mare… every happy soul a tool to be used…

From The Scholars Notes

The inside of the tent was dimly lit… barely illuminated in the low light. Shadows collected inside of the tent, around the far edges, waxing and waning with the flickering low light of the waxy yellow candle, its wax dripping down the sides of the tarnished silver candlestick that held it. The sides of the tent were a dark purple, with red cloth patches sewn in over multiple tears in the materials. The floor of the tent was covered with red carpet; stained and plain, old and ragged, with faded gold lining at the edges, and just hints of dirty cobblestone slivering between the edges of the carpet and ends of the tent. A dull throng of noise sounded somewhere distant, laughing and chatting and the noises of hooves on stone, just barely able to be heard inside of the tent, mashed together and almost indiscernible.

The tarnished silver candlestick that held the only source of light within the tent rested upon a round wooden table, with scratches in the surface and one leg slightly crooked. The round table sat in the center of the tent, with balloons tied to each of its four legs, one white, one red, one yellow, and one pink, each of them with smiling faces drawn on in black marker. A wooden stool was pushed up to the table, and upon it was a pink cushion with gold frills at the sides, placed for somepony to plop her flank on. Beside the candlestick resting on the table’s surface was a small white ceramic plate, scooted up a little in the direction of the stool, with a single slice of cake upon it from a chocolate cake, with pink frosting across the top and one layer in the center, moist and fresh.

Against one side of the tent was a bed. With a dark wooden frame with multiple scratches and nails hammered into it for seemingly no reason, and a yellowing mattress with springs sticking out here and there, as well as fluff pooling out from tears in the mattress material. The bed was covered with a simple pink sheet, with a pink pillow at the head of the bed. On top of that, was a dark red blanket, and on top of that, was Sun Prancer.

She was snoring, very loudly actually, with her head on the pink pillow, her body stretched out across the bed, hind legs stretching off of it a bit, sticking over the edge. Her armor was still upon her body, which while not the most comfortable for sleeping was better than trying to put it on again after having it taken off. Her sword-belt was missing however… The iron-ball braided into her tail was still with her though, as were her steel hoof guards. Aside from her blade she was still fully armed and armored… her only weakness at the moment was that she was unconscious.

As Sun Prancer slept, the sound of a zipper being slowly pulled open came from the entrance to the tent… Then, the unzipped tent-flap opened as bringing bright light shining into the tent. The far off sounds of laughter and merriment could be heard a little clearer, as the head of a young colt with a dark blue coat, light-grey mane striped with a darker grey, and pretty blue eyes, poked its way into the tent.

The colt looked around quickly, then lifted his eyes up to the sleeping Sun Prancer, who had furrowed her brows in her sleep, and then turned over from the bed, ending her snoring and pulling herself into a tighter sleeping position, hooves moving up nearer to her head… The little colt watched her for a few moments, and then waited for her to start snoring softly… before padding his way into her tent quietly, a small chubby little thing with a tiny pair of wings on his back, a little tuft of a tail, and a blank flank.

He tiphoofed into the room softly, eyeing the sleeping Sun Prancer, then lifted his eyes up to the piece of cake sitting on the table. The little colt licked his lips… then turned his gaze to the stool, and slowly moved over towards it, gingerly reaching up with his right front hoof and pushing against the cushion. He brought his body up, kicking back against the carpet lightly, on top of the cushion on the stool, the cushion sliding a bit underneath him as he turned to face the table. His eyes were bright as he gaze longingly at the cake, moving his little hoofs up to the edge of the table, stretching up on his hind legs as he leaned forward, his tiny wings starting to flap rapidly as he reached out with a shaking hoof towards the cake, his eyes wide and tongue licking his lips as he stretched further and further, trying to get to that moist piece of cake, hoof just maybe a centimeter away from the plate.

WHISHK!

THUD!

The cushion slipped out from under the little colt’s hooves, and as his little legs scrambled for a hold beneath him he slipped backwards from the table, hitting the stool and knocking it over, landing on his flank on the carpet. Quickly he leapt up next to the falling stool, turning his head quickly to look up to the sleeping Sun Prancer, as her snoring stopped completely and she turned back over in the bed, wings stretching out and hooves coming down as she gritted her teeth, and her eyes seemed to squint as her brow furrowed.

The little colt quickly turned, tripped, and fell flat on his face onto the carpet. He scrambled quickly back up to his hooves, a panicked look on his chubby little face, and quickly ran through the tent flap, zipping out and leaving the opening open, as Sun Prancer’s eyes started to open themselves, blinking the dullness and daze away, as she sat up on the bed, bringing her front right hoof up to rub her head as she groaned lightly…

“Ughh…” She muttered, her head feeling fuzzy and weird on the inside. She shook her head a bit, and opened her eyes… And then her eyes snapped open and she leapt off the bed onto the floor. Her head moved down to her sword and-… and she clenched her teeth as she saw that her sword-belt was missing…

Sun Prancer straightened herself back up, and gulped down a lump in her throat, regaining her composure… Narrowing her eyes she looked around the inside of the tent with a rapid examining gaze, letting her eyes fall on the plate with the cake and fallen stool with cushion. She raised her right eyebrow slightly at that, and then turned her gaze away to the exit flap, brows furrowing. She swished her tail slightly, checking the weight to make sure the iron ball was still there before nodding slightly to herself, looking a bit relieved to confirm its presence.

Suddenly Sun Prancer furrowed her brows and cocked her head to the side, ears twitching slightly, as she listened to that noise creeping into her tent from a distance, trying to peg down what it was… Her eyes went wide, her pupils dilating, and sweat beginning rolling down her brow as she heard the laughter for what it was, the back of her skull starting to scratch like crazy, surrounded by laughter, so much laughter… And then the scratching began to morph into a kind of tickling, a feather gently teasing over the back of her skull, that made her want to kind of… smile a little.

She squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head violently, growling out in anger and exasperation as she threw the tickling out of her brain, then opened her eyes and turned the glaring pair of golden orbs to the tent’s exit flap. She looked at the flap for a moment, then took a deep breathe in, and out slowly… before slowly stepping forward, past the fallen stool and cushion, completely ignoring the cake, and moving underneath the tent entrance, stepping out into the street…

The ruined and ragged buildings of The Derelicts, rose up on either side of Sun Prancer, their broken walls and windows barely covered with loose boards and cloth sheets, the ragged and battered structured standing ugly and sober in the light of the midday sun. Sun Prancer’s gaze moved quickly, and she was able to figure out soon enough that she was in the middle of the street. A street that’s dirty and broken cobblestone surface had been covered with multi-colored confetti. Paper strips of pink and yellow and blue, red and white and purple, were scattered all over the fragmented and rough cobblestone. In addition to this confetti she could see tents, all around her, shaped squareish bases that stretched up into pointed tops, unnecessarily tall, held by roped stakes driven into the to keep them steady.

The tents were multiple different colors, some bright yellow, some bright blue, many red, many others pink, some purple, and then some white. All of them were ragged, and covered with patches of cloth, different from their typical material, mixing multiple colors. Small steel hooks seemed to jut out from the tops of the tents lining the streets, and wrapped around these hooks were balloon strings, tied to balloons floating up above the tent. Some of the tents only had single balloons tied to their hooks, and others had a few balloons, but few or single every balloon had a smiling face drawn upon it in black marker. The balloons came in yellow, red, white, pink, purple, and blue, and never matched the tent or the patches they floated over, turning every ragged tent into a multi-colored spectacle.

Sun Prancer looked over this… weirdly ragged display of multi-colored merriment with distaste… It looked gaudy more than anything else. Her ears perked up as she heard a faint scrabble against the cobblestone from behind her, and she whirled around, head lowering and eyes glaring as she moved into a pouncing position, tail flicking up menacingly with the iron ball… and then she blinked as she looked into the eyes of the small chubby little colt, trembling in fear beneath her gaze, eyes wide as he stood on the cobblestone next to the tent.

“… Ummm… sorry.” Spoke Sun Prancer simply, before clearing her throat and straightening up, her own nervousness disappearing as she entered into Captain mode, and spoke quickly and gruffly.

“Where am I?” She asked, as the colt shivered, still somewhat intimidated by her earlier death-glare. She furrowed her brows.

“Answer when your elders speak to you young colt!” She barked, and the colt let out an “Eeep!” And dropped down to the cobblestone, bringing both his front hooves up to cover his head as his body shook.

“I’m sorry! The party stallion said not to disturb you! I just wanted the cake so bad! It looked so yummy and you hadn’t eaten it yet and I was waiting for so long and I was getting hungry and-and and please don’t hit me!” He spoke, his voice rapid as his little body shook.

Sun Prancer blinked, then sighed a bit, looking down and to the left as she scratched at the cobblestone anxiously with her right-front hoof. Now in addition to being in The Derelicts in Cult of Laughter territory she felt like a mule for making the little colt scared… She wasn’t good with foals…

“Umm, there, there, nopony’s going to hit you.” She spoke, before furrowing her brows picking up on something from the last part of the little colt’s plea.

“The, uh, “party stallion” sent you?” She asked looking down to the colt as he slowly lifted up his hooves from off his head, looking up to her with his wide eyes tearing up a bit.

“You’re… you’re not mad about the cake?” He asked, his little body still shaking.

“No, no, I’m not mad about it, now what’s this about a “party stallion”?” She asked, as the little colt slowly got back up to his shaking hooves.

“Y-you know, the stallion who throws all the b-big parties here? Some foals are afraid of him, some grown-ups to, b-but he’s really nice! He has parties, and-and games, and punch, and gives me cake!” Spoke the Little Colt as a pit formed in Sun Prancer’s stomach, listening to the Little Colt speak.

“H-he asked me to check up on you and l-let him know when you woke up!” Spoke the colt, before lowering his head down close the ground, casting doleful eyes up at Sun Prancer.

“And told me not to interrupt you while you were sleeping or, or eat the cake… but I was getting hungry and you were still asleep…” He muttered, his eyes looking downcast. Sun Prancer was motionless for a few moments, the cogs in her head whirling, and a cold rage building up inside of her… She knew the Cult of Laughter recruited everypony and anypony, but it never sunk in before that those freaks would start with foals this way… She breathed in deep, taking a calming breath, before lowering herself to look down to the little colt.

“Hey.” She spoke, directly and succinctly, the little colt lifting his head back up to look into her eyes.

“What’s your name?” she asked, and the little colt blinked once more, then gulped a bit and spoke.

“F-Frost Topping.” He spoke, and Sun Prancer nodded slightly, hardly surprised by the name, considering the conversation they’d just finished having.

“Frost Topping… why don’t you go ahead and have that cake? I’ll go ahead and let the… “party stallion” know I’m awake myself…” She spoke, a glint in her eyes…

“R-really!” Spoke Frost Topping, jumping up to his hooves his little tail wagging excitedly, his eyes bright and filled with joy, completely missing the glint that had been in Sun Prancer’s own orbs.

“Yeah, go ahead, knock yourself out…” She muttered, as she raised herself back up to her full height, and turned her gaze towards the laughter, still far off, hidden from her sight by the tents, somewhere down the street.

“I’ll go make sure he knows I’m awake…” She spoke, eyes furrowing as her voice became cold, a spark in her eye… as the little colt scrambled into the tent, not catching the ominous nature of Sun Prancer’s words at all as he pursued his quest for cake… and Sun Prancer, outside the tent, a frozen rage in her eyes, unfurled her wings…

…

Far down the street, past the ragged multi-color patchwork tents, a party was in full-swing… A party filled with little foals, colts and fillies, running around excitedly, partaking in the wonder and happiness of the joyous gathering, eating treats and playing games. As they did so mares and stallions, presumably their parents, shambled along behind them, slowly and stumbling, with shabby coats and dirty manes, wearing rags or nothing at all upon their bodies, giggling softly as they accompanied their foals.

Long wooden tables lined the sides of the streets, covered with baked goods, with pies, cakes, little chocolate cupcakes with pink frosting and red heart candies at the top, sweet breads, cookies of all kinds, most of them shaped into smiley faces. These baked goods were handed out to hungry foals as they came to the tables, attended to by ponies with wide grinning faces who were wearing ragged purple and red sewn clothing on their upper-bodies, with hoods pulled up over their heads that had twin cloth protrusions hanging down either side with brass bells, like jester hoods, jingling lightly as the grinning and giggling ponies gave out sweets to the foals…

In nearby buildings along the street ovens baked and fires roared, ponies wearing naught but aprons and smiles put pies and cookies and muffins and cakes into blazing ovens. Other ponies within the buildings kneaded dough at tables, still others mixed ingredients into pans and pots, others iced the cakes as they came from the ovens, large teams of ponies crafting the delicacies. As the goodies were finished, ponies carried the goods out to carts, pulled by grinning ponies with their faces painted white, lips and cheeks painted red, and mascara upon their lashes, little dark-purple jester hats resting on their heads with brass bells ringing, signaling their approach as they brought the edibles to the tables.

While the tables around the street were reserved for confections, the center of the street was pretty crowded as well, with games and frolic and merrymaking. One grinning pony handled a game of twister, spinning the arrow as the little foals tried to match their hooves, tails, and noses to the different parts, usually winding up collapsing into giggling piles at their attempts. Another grinning pony, wearing a bright red jester hat on her head with a face painted white and big red dots on both her cheeks along with red painted lips, stood balancing on top of a big yellow ball with a blue stripe, holding out her hooves with sticks upon them, plates spinning on top of the sticks, and finally an egg balancing on her nose, drawing many wondrous gazes from the foals. Another entertainer was contorting himself to the entertainment of the foals, and still another was playing ten instruments at once, banging away on drums and cymbals and a harmonica and an accordion, and various other musical contraptions.

Yet even with all the cakes and games and music to occupy the little foals attention, there was one figure that entranced them the most, one that the majority of the foals found themselves listening to, as they munched on pies and cookies, their ragged and dirt-covered parents and guardians standing a bit back, giggling and chuckling softly. This most important of attractions was near the end of the street, and as the little ponies laid on rugs and carpets brought out over the cobblestone as multi-colored and festive as the tents, they watched with their eyes wide, listened with smiles on their mouths, and took in every word that the deathly thin pony, with the weird smile and bright pink horn, sitting on a stool in front of them with his red and white cloth cloak falling down his back and to his sides, read from a purple-covered book spread open on his lap, hooves resting at either side of the book’s covers…

“And the little filly saw, a glllooooorrrriiiiiooouuuusssss rainbow! Stretching out over the sky! She had never seen such a thing before! This little filly Pinkie Pie!” Spoke the gaunt stallion with a smile, reading happily from the pages below. The huge Peppy lying down on the ground to the right of his master, no weapon in his mouth, a dreamy look on his face as he listened to the starving stallion with the Cult of Laughter Cutie Mark speak…

“The little Pinkie Pie watched with delight, as the colors spread across the sky! And she was filled with such joy in her heart, that she resolved to ever try, to spread that joy to each and every pony that she would ever meet! Every pony she saw, every pony she knew, and every pony she would ever greet!” Spoke the gaunt stallion, real passion coming from his voice as he read from the book, his horn glowing as it turned a page enveloped in a pink aura.

“The little fillie grew into a mare! And taught everypony to laugh and share! She threw great parties, and made everypone smile! And so things were wonderful, for a long long while.” Spoke the permanently grinning stallion, and then his voice went a little softer, a bit of sorrow creeping in as he continued.

“But the mare named Pinkie Pie was betrayed, by one Twilight Sparkle, who from the path of joy had strayed. She pulled our mare into sadness and woe, demanding from her a duty just so, that she would stay and become something new, to become one of the alicorn few. The mare named Pinkie Pie knew not what to say, believing that with a no she from duty would stray, and so she agreed, to try and transform, and in the act was killed before taking new form…” Spoke the stallion softly… before closing his eyes and breathing in deeply, then sighing out gently, coughing softly, shaking his head, and then continuing.

“She died there at the hooves of one she had befriended, by her will our Pinkie Pie’s life was ended. We wept for our mare, deceased and gone, but soon we found that her will was to go on. Her desire to spread joy was so strong, that the powers beyond worked to correct the great wrong. Her body was blessed, her will was spread, and our Laughing Mare came back from the dead.” The stallion stopped for a bit, leaning down and coughing lightly, then shaking his head, taking a breathe, and looking back up with a gentle smile to the little fillies and colts.

“And she told us of laughter, and she told us of joy! And of a great and wonderful ploy! That we were to spread, our joy far and wide, so that when she came everypony would know the right side! She told our prophets so that they would know, that she would come and it would be so! That she would bring eternal joy to our land, and that we would all join her merry band! Live or dead, we would happy be, with our Laughing Mare, for all eternity!” Spoke the grinning stallion, before pitching forward slightly, chuckling, his body shaking from joyful giggles, then shaking his head as he composed himself, sighing lightly, and sitting back up straight, looking to the book… then blinking a bit, furrowing his brow as he cocked his head to the side, seeming to listen for a moment, before looking up to the sky, noting a dark spot against the sun for a moment… Then sighing, and closing his eyes with a light chuckle, as he bowed his head and closed the book with his hooves.

“And I am afraid that that is all the time we have for now my little ponies.” He spoke, to the “Awwww”s of the foals around him.

“Don’t worry… we’ll, ‘cough cough’ pick this up again at our next party…” He spoke softly, before turning his gaze over to the overgrown Reveler at his side.

“Peppy.” He spoke, his voice clear and quick, causing Peppy to open his eyes and rise up to his hooves quickly, drool running down over the chain in his mouth, down his chin to the ground, as the colts and fillies slinked back over to their stumbling, staggering parents, still chuckling softly with their ragged coats.

“Transport, ‘cough cough’ if you, heheh, please.” Spoke the starving stallion, grinning a little wider. Peppy blinked in a lack of comprehension, then looked up… Then went wide eyed, grabbed the starving stallion in his hooves, wrapping the frail and thin pony against his own massive form, and leapt back as-

WWHHHAAAMMMM!!!

CRACK!!!

The stool split apart into a thousand splinters every which way. The cobblestone beneath it came flying up and about in a cloud of dust as something from above struck the spot with raging force… Several little colts coughed from the dust, scrambling to hide from the scary cloud behind the still giggling parents and guardians, who in turn moved in front of their colts and fillies, stumbling slightly.

The dust cleared to show Sun Prancer, tail flicking with the iron-ball ready, wings spread wide, body lowered in position to pounce, turned already to look towards where Peppy had landed on his back, holding the starving stallion in his hooves.

“Hey. Grinning Geld…” Spoke Sun Prancer, iron ball glinting as a few errant rays of sun caught the metal, her eyes narrowed as she looked to the starving pony clutched in Peppy’s hooves, the starved pony turning his gaze to look over his shoulder to Sun Prancer, his eyes sparking with excitement.

“Like you said…” Spoke Sun Prancer, eyes narrowed and teeth gritted hard.

“We’ve got some BUCKING CATCHING UP to do…”

Author's Note

This chapter kicked my rear front and back. I had a lot of trouble making it go where I wanted, and I'm still not sure it's gotten there, so if it's off or choppier than others than I apologize. I hope it entertains nonetheless.

The Baltimare Riots: Family Ties

THE RIOTS OF BALTIMARE

FOURTH STANZA

“The Cult of Laughter has traditionally been structured into localized sects, blessed by the Prophets and centered around high-ranking cult leaders who oversee conversion in the surrounding area. While usually these aren’t worth any special titles besides hideouts or churches, when one of these localized sects becomes extremely large, it becomes a “Carnival”. There is at least one Carnival in Manehatten’s Undercity. Another is suspected to be beneath Baltimare, and there are rumors of possible Carnivals in Hoofington and Fillydelphia. While immobile Carnival’s are extremely dangerous, and are suspected to have the world-altering Pillars of Joy at their hearts. This remains unconfirmed.

Another embodiment of the Cult of Laughter are the “Troupes”. The Troupes are rarer than churches and local sects but certainly more common than Carnivals. They act as mobile military processions that engaged in active battles with the Houses and rebel elements, seeking to destroy the enemies of the Cult with conversion as a secondary goal to annihilation. Hard to hide, Troupes are usually rather obvious, and so their reduced numbers aren’t for lack of willing participants, but rather for lack of surviving Troupes after House engagements.

Troupes, hideouts, churches, Carnivals, all serve the will of the Laughing Mare through the Prophets, who send the mysterious Bearer of Good News to deliver their will to the various sects and embodiments of the Cult. Through the Prophets the otherwise unconnected sects become organized, marching to the will of the Laughing Mare, and pursuing her will without question.

There is another rarer form of Cult activity however that acts independently of the Prophets, yet proceeds with their full blessing. The Prophets do not order, but make requests of this strangest of cult members. These cultists are almost as revered as the Prophets themselves, and are known as the Party Planners… Those chosen by the Laughing Mare personally, and given her mark to bear, in order to bring about the Merry March, and essentially end Equestria as we know it.

The Party Planners as a notable power in the Cult seem to have originated within the last two years. The title has been applied to only a handful of ponies within the Cult of Laughter, chosen directly by the Laughing Mare to prepare Equestria for her arrival so that the Merry March can begin. In short the Party Planners are the ones who take care of obstacles to the Laughing Mare’s eventual summoning into Equestria… making sure that nopony can stand against her when her time comes.

The Party Planners are radically different from one another. However each of them has been greatly and powerfully blessed by the Laughing Mare and given a part of her power. This inevitably results in increased inherent abilities, strange new powers, alterations to their physical form, and allows them to draw from great reserves of power to conduct rituals and cast magic, even if non-unicorn. Another unifying factor amongst the Party Planners is that their Cutie-Marks have been replaced by the jester hat and smile of the Laughing Cult, their symbol taking over their true-selves, symbolizing complete and total commitment to the Laughing Mare and her will. Another point to note is that they almost inevitably have pink eyes. Powerful unicorns in service to the Laughing Mare will usually wind up with pink eyes, the more of her power they take in. The reason for this is not known, but likely involves the Laughing Mare’s corrupting nature. Because of the blessings and direct power gifting of the Laughing Mare however, even non-unicorns who become Party Planners wind up with pink eyes.

While the Baltimare riots had been going on for a long time, there was a sudden hike in frequency and violence during a period of weeks before the arrival of one Lady Glitterstone in Baltimare. Only with the examination of certain message exchanges between the Bearer of Good News and the Prophets, was I able to ascertain the cause of this slight anomaly. A Party Planner had arrived in the city, and under his leadership and guidance the conversion efforts of the local cult sects had gone into overdrive. This particular Party Planner, a “Grinning Geld” was particularly known for his abilities as a necromancer, and also for being something of a “Miracle” to the Cult. The exact nature of this miracle is unknown to me at this time. Regardless, his presence in Baltimare meant that he had an objective, important to the Laughing Mare to complete there, and if it was important for the Laughing Mare, then chances are it was bad for all of Equestria…”

From The Scholars Notes

“Hahahahaha! Wonderful entrance Sun Prancer, very dramatic! Hahahaha ‘cough cough’” Spoke Grinning Geld, as Peppy rolled over onto three of his four hooves, his front right-hoof holding Grinning Geld close to his body, the other three hooves keeping Peppy’s massive form suspended so that he wouldn’t fall and crush his master beneath his massive bulk.

Peppy looked at Sun Prancer with narrowed eyes, a growl low in his throat as his drool dripped onto the back of Grinning Geld’s cloak, and his teeth ground against the steel chain in his mouth…

Sun Prancer glared back, teeth gritted together as Grinning Geld slowly lowered his hooves to the ground, save for his front-right hoof, curled around the book. Sun Prancer could now see a white and red jester hat with bells and a white smile beneath it, on the front cover of the book… the Cult’s symbol. This did nothing to improve her mood as Peppy unwrapped his hoof from Grinning Geld, before clumsily patting down the back of Grinning Geld’s cloak with his hoof, dragging some dust and drool down, before moving over to stand at his master’s right side.

“So, nice to see you’re up! Did little Frost Topping help you with that? Heehee! I thought he’d go for that cake!” Spoke Grinning Geld cheerfully, a happy gleam to his eye as he looked to the angry Pegasus.

“My sword…” Muttered Sun Prancer, as Grinning Geld held his right hoof out to Peppy, Peppy reaching up with his own hooves and taking the purple book from his master’s hooves, his left hoof wrapping around it as he turned towards the crowd, shot one more glare to Sun Prancer, and then started to walk on three of his hooves away from his master. The stumbling, giggling parents separated for his massive form to pass through, foals quickly running to the sides as well, watching wide-eyed as the big Peppy passed right in front of them.

“Sorry, what was that Sun Prancer ‘cough cough’ dear?” Asked Grinning Geld, his right hoof moving over his shoulder to brush some of the dust and drool off the back of his cloak as his servant disappeared past the crowd, the ranks filling up with the stumbling parents and foals once more as the behemoth that was Peppy passed them.

“GIVE ME MY BUCKING SWORD!!!” Shouted Sun Prancer, eyes blazing as she yelled, and inched forward in an aggressive stance, her body poised low to the ground, ready to pounce…

Sun Prancer was angry about a lot of things right now. She was angry that she’d let herself get grabbed in the alleyway. She was angry that she’d been put to sleep by Grinning Geld. She was angry that Grinning Geld was recruiting foals for his beloved Cult and she was angry that she’d let her sword, the symbol of her office, get taken away from her. And right now the sword was at the forefront of her mind, because with that sword she had a very sharp, very strong weapon, and with a good weapon a whole lot of problems could be made to disappear… And in her current temper she was very eager to make the pony in front of her vanish forever…

“Now now Sun Prancer! Watch the language, remember… heheheheh, there are kiddies about…” Spoke Grinning Geld, gesturing with his front-right hoof towards the line of little foals, colts and fillies, watching the two with wide eyes, peaking out from behind the legs of their giggling parents, listening to the mare speak angry forbidden words at their beloved starving stallion. Sun Prancer looked at the children and their wide eyes, and began to feel a bit of shame moving into her anger… nothing was wrong with what she’d done but she was itching for a fight, a fight that should definitely not occur anywhere near foals…

She slowly began to lower her wings and raise her body, bringing her eyes up from the foals to their parents, more out of a result of her starting to move out of battle mode than any inquisitive thought. And her blood went cold… Her eyes went wide again and she couldn’t do anything but stare, a cold sweat spreading across her coat, and for a moment every emotion in her body went on pause, not sure which one was appropriate, not sure if any of them could really match up to the feeling she had right at that instant.

In hindsight it was obvious… The way they moved, how they didn’t speak, how they were laughing, their ragged state… She hadn’t noticed because none of them were rotted, but that shouldn’t have surprised her. Grinning Geld did good work after all…

One Earth Pony mare that bore the brunt of Sun Prancer’s eye, standing at the front of the crowd had a light pink coat, with a somewhat rough looking flute Cutie-Mark with light blue musical notes rising from it. Her mane was yellow, and her tail was long, and her eyes were both a lovely shade of dark blue. Much darker than the light-blue coat that mysteriously started right beneath her front-right knee, slightly larger than the rest of that leg… It was a mystery until one looked closely enough to see the faint hints of the stitching, attaching the two parts of a leg together… The mare had a little Earth Pony filly with bright green eyes, an equally pink coat, and a yellow mane with streaks of red in it, holding onto her front-left leg, clutching her mommy, looking at Sun Prancer wide-eyed…

Beside the mare with a replaced half-a-leg was a tall Pegasus stallion, with a light-brown raggedy coat and a Cutie-Mark of a paintbrush, dipped in red paint at the end. His mane was a very dark brown and raggedy, and his tail was a short tuft. He looked pretty normal all things considered… except that it looked as though scars were spiderwebbing out from his eyes and crisscrossing over his forehead… His face looked a little strange up there, as though it had been reset and restructured, the bones reshaped… Otherwise his face looked normal, save for the bright yellow eye in his right socket and the dark emerald green eye in his left… A small brown-coated Pegasus colt rested on his back, with a dark green mane and a blank flank, wide light blue eyes, holding his daddy tight as he rested on different eyed Pegasus’s back…

To his left then was a Unicorn mare, with a light green coat, a Cutie-Mark of a happy yellow duck, bright golden eyes, and a soft cyan mane. She looked a bit thin and ragged like the others, but for the most part nothing seemed wrong… until one looked at the horn on her head, and noticed that it was a dull white, seeming to jut out a bit as though it was a little too big, with scars around the flesh where it was crafted in… A slightly older unicorn filly stood next to the mare, with a light green coat and horn, soft yellow eyes and a Cutie Mark of a small white bunny rabbit on her flank. She was looking more curious, and a little less fearful at the Pegasus who had crashed down in on the starving stallion’s stool, as she stood by her mother.

Sun Prancer ran her gaze along the line of giggling, repaired ponies… haphazard and ragged… and she knew what Grinning Geld had done…

“Laughing Dead…” She muttered softly, eyes still wide, not entirely sure how to process the shock of her realization, before turning her gaze from the lined up ponies to Grinning Geld.

“They’re all Laughing Dead…” She continued, her voice soft as disbelief threatened to consume her…

“Hm? Oh yes, that is what you call them isn’t it?” Spoke Grinning Geld, before chuckling softly and shaking his head a bit.

“I don’t really understand that, they’re all ponies to me.” He stated simply, before looking up to the Laughing Dead parents, giggling softly on clumsy legs, swaying slowly as they stood between the foals and the Militia Captain, just watching as their master and the mare continued to speak…

“Still, I suppose it has a, heheheh, bit of a ring to it eh? And they are a bunch of jolly souls! Hahahaha, ah, I do admit that I tend to spend more time with them than I do a lot of our still living, heheheh, members. But they do take a bit more, hahahah, maintenance, repairing lost limbs, replacing organs, restructuring the ‘cough cough’ bone. I suppose I could ask some of my disciples to, hahahaha, help with that, but really I just like doing it myself! Especially for the parents… little foals mommies and daddies deserve full attention after a-”

A blur cut Grinning Geld’s amused speaking short. A-

SLAM!!!

Into the already cracking stone wall of a Derelicts house made the wall shake and the house shudder a bit, support beams and wooden floors creaking from the impact inside, hasty repairs groaning a bit from the strength of the slam. Other cracks could be heard as well… in the body of the pony that got slammed into the structure, Grinning Geld’s frail form shaking underneath the impact, the sound of brittle bones breaking in the body with a series of crunching sounds, sickening to listen to…

Grinning Geld blinked his eyes a bit, surprise in his eyes, no pain just a bit of surprise… And then he grinned, with amusement, as he looked back into the blazing eyes of Sun Prancer, the Pegasus Mare breathing heavily, wings spread out, standing on her hind legs with her two front hooves pushing against his shoulders, pinning him to the stone wall. The rage in her eyes burned like a furnace, her teeth gritted together hard, bloody murder in her stare as she looked at the decrepit, reviling thing in front of her, shrugging off the smell of rot and filth as she pushed her steel-clad hooves against him, his shoulders cracking beneath the pressure…

The Laughing Dead began to move forward but Grinning Geld slid his eyes to the side of his skull, looking to them as his horn glowed pink for just a moment… They stopped, and stepped back into line as his horn stopped glowing, before he turned his gaze back up to look into Sun Prancer’s eyes. She struggled to find the words, her emotions had only recently figured out that burning rage was the way to go, and her mind was having to catch up. But soon enough she found her voice, and she spoke it was low, hissing, spitting, and full of rage.

“Look you double-bucking son of a mule! I don’t give a flying feather if you convince some idiot mares and stallions to go in with your fucking Cult, but you stay the hay away from foals! Got it!” She hissed, pushing harder into his body, the sounds of more bones splintering able to be heard beneath the flesh, her hooves indenting into his tight-stretched skin with her pressured pushing.

Grinning Geld continued to look Sun Prancer in the eyes, a light smile on his face, as his left hoof moved up a bit to wipe away some of the spittle from Sun Prancer’s demands off of his coat. His hoof movement seemed a bit awkward, and the sound of cracked bones moving beneath the skin could be heard as he wiped the front of his face, before he calmly lowered his hoof, and gave Sun Prancer a simple reply.

“No.” He spoke. So simple, so matter-of-fact, that it gave Sun Prancer pause… before she shook her head and growled once more, eyes flashing as she pulled him back with her hooves, and then slammed him again into the wall, some dust and pebbles falling out of the cracks in the wall as she struck him into the building, more creaking and groaning coming from the structure.

“I’m not kidding with you Geld!” She shouted her eyes blaring into his.

“Heheheheh, you should be. It’s a funny joke, considering that you brought your filly to me in your time of desperation… You would deny these children their parents in theirs?” Asked Grinning Geld, grinning a bit wider as he looked into Sun Prancer’s eyes. Sun Prancer opened her mouth to say something… but suddenly, she was at a loss for words. For what felt like the third time within the last thirty minutes or so, she just didn’t really know what to say, or how to react… She hadn’t forgotten… she couldn’t forget, but, it hadn’t been at the forefront of her mind… but now… now…

Grinning Geld, reached up with his front right hoof, more bones creaking beneath his skin, and moved it to stroke Sun Prancer’s cheek gently, as he looked into her eyes, smiling warmly, his brilliant pink orbs burrowing into hers.

“I know you’re scared ‘Cough cough’ my dear Sun Prancer… but it’s alright…” He spoke gently, looking into her eyes with a soft, gentle gaze as he stroked her cheek.

“You knew I recruited foals from ‘Cough cough’ our time before… heheheheh, you just ignored it because you needed me then. You needed me to help your little filly, and that was okay… I was glad to help her ‘cough cough’ heheheheh… she was a wonderful patient. Some of my best work went into her… and you should see her now… She’s joined with the Euphories, and is one of the best they’ve ever had… heheheheh, you should be proud…” Spoke Grinning Geld, as he leaned forward slightly, looking deeper into Sun Prancer’s eyes.

“I know that you’re terrified, heheheh, of the tickling in the back of your skull. It’s getting stronger, right? First it started as a scratching, every once in a while, and now it just won’t ‘Cough cough’ go away… that’s okay Sun Prancer, heheheh… It’s something wonderful…” Spoke Grinning Geld, still gently, as Sun Prancer continued to stare into Grinning Geld’s eyes… those bright pink eyes, just… keeping her gaze on them, letting herself focus on them as the stallion continued, her brain just not sure where else to go.

“It’s all part of her plan… She’s calling you to her, hahahah, loving embrace… She wants you to join her party and be ready for the Merry March… And that’s nothing to be scared of Sun Prancer… hehehehe, it’s something to be glad for… because then, you’ll finally be happy…” Spoke Sun Prancer gently, before leaning forward, bringing his front hooves around, beneath Sun Prancer’s crushing hooves, and moving them to her sides, embracing her as best he was able and then resting his head on her shoulder… She didn’t even retch at the smell as he held her close, for the first time noticing that there was something like chocolate cake mixed in with the usual pungent odors of his disheveled and decrepit self…

“I know you’re not happy right now, heheheheh… your heart is troubled, and worried for many things… You’re scared, and you’re angry, and you want ‘Cough cough’ somepony to help you, but you don’t want to admit it… heheheheheh, because you’re strong… you’ve always been strong… Not just as a disciplined warrior, but also as a ‘cough cough’ bigger pony… The little ones have always looked up you, heheheheh, in their times of need… one of the only Mares in Stormwing to become a Heavy Lancer, heheheheh… Rushing your enemies and tossing them aside with pure unrelenting force, ‘cough cough’ that is your way… And to not have that force for once is, heheheheh, terrifying for you…” Spoke Grinning Geld gently, as Sun Prancer slowly lowered her front hooves down, over Grinning Geld’s own outstretched hooves…

She no longer noticed the pungent odors that she usually associated with Grinning Geld… there seemed to be a mixture of cake, ice-cream, and some kind of sweet muffin smell to the stallion now. She rested back on her haunches as she listened to Grinning Geld speak, just listening as the starved stallion stepped forward with his hind legs from the wall, and wrapped his front legs around Sun Prancer completely, embracing her fully and holding her close…

“But we’re here for you Sun Prancer, when you’re, ‘cough cough’ weak, or feel that things can’t go on anymore… We’re the ones who’ll show you the path to happiness… You ran from us the first time, heheheheh, because you thought we’d change who you are… you ran away from your own daughter because you thought we’d made her something horrible, a monster, and you blamed yourself, heheheheh, for bringing her to us… But she’s your daughter, ‘cough cough’ Sun Prancer… she’s your little filly… and she misses her mommy…” Spoke Grinning Geld gently as Sun Prancer bit her bottom lip, images of her daughter flashing through her mind, the time she’d spent playing on the mat as a tiny foal, sucking at a small bottle, her lifting her little hooves up to be held, trying to fly, buzzing her little wings at her back… Sun Prancer blinked, as moisture began to form at her eyes… and slowly her hooves came up to wrap around Grinning Geld, as a gentle tear slid down her right cheek…

“She’s your family Sun Prancer, and so are we, heheheh… we’re always going to be your family Sun Prancer… we said we’d be there for you, and we meant it, heheheh… We know you ran away, but that’s okay. We know you’re scared, but you don’t have to be. We’re a family, heheheh, and we stick together… No one really leaves us, we’ve all been waiting for you to come home… and here you are…” Spoke Grinning Geld gently, as he moved his front-right hoof up to her mane, stroking it softly as she hugged him closer, buried her face in his shoulder, and started to sob…

Sun Prancer was no longer thinking about her actions, her mind was fuzzy and hurt and full of pain, and she just wanted to cry. Cry for her little filly whose wings had been ripped off by her senior officer for refusing to kill a foal. Cry for the sorrow she’d felt as she saw what her daughter had become, Fallen, crazed, and throwing herself into battle only for the sake of dying. Cry for herself as she betrayed every oath she’d ever made and rammed her lance through her officer’s chest, before taking off with her daughter, her little Darting Specter… and Cry for her cowardice because she ran off and left her daughter to them, the ones she’d brought her to, the only ones who could help her… the ones she thought had ruined her… and the ones she had blamed for her own mistakes, running away from her own daughter, after all that, just running… And so she cried. Long and hard. On the shoulder of a pony she despised.

“There there ‘cough cough’ my dear, let it all out…” Spoke Grinning Geld gently as the much taller, much tougher, battle-hardened mare sobbed in his stick-thin hooves… his front right hoof stroking her mane gently as Sun Prancer let years of sorrow, misery, shame, and regret, come rushing out onto his shoulder… the water of her tears running down his coat and his cloak both, water-staining the cloth and actually helping clean up the coat… The sobs wracked her body, and vibrated into Grinning Geld’s brittle form, shaking his broken bones, the sounds of his cracked marrow grinding and splintering inside of his skin…

Grinning Geld didn’t seem to even notice the further damage being done to his body, and simply held Sun Prancer, who didn’t care at the moment that she was crying in front of an audience in the hooves of a pony she despised for being a monster that converted her daughter… But she didn’t feel like he was that anymore… she felt like he was… was somepony who cared… And here, in the Derelicts, with a bunch of little foals that reminded her of her daughter, her sweet little filly who she had run away from, she didn’t feel like keeping up the tough front, in the arms of somepony who cared…

Grinning Geld held her for several more moments, as her sobs quieted and she slowly leaned back, tears still streaking down her cheeks as Grinning Geld moved his front right hoof back to her cheek, stroking away some of the tears softly… Sun Prancer just looked into Grinning Geld’s eyes for a few moments, sniffling softly… before speaking in a choked voice.

“I-I hate you…” She spoke raggedly, still sniffling as Grinning Geld smiled a little more, and chuckled softly…

“It’s okay. I forgive you… she will to, if you just come home to her…” He spoke, gently, before leaning forward and planting a soft kiss on Sun Prancer’s forehead, causing her to flinch and stiffen slightly. Grinning Geld leaned back then and slowly disconnected himself from Sun Prancer, ending the embrace as he pulled his broken limbs back slowly. His horn glowed pink for a moment, and his entire body began to glow pink as well… The sound of bones snapping back into place able to be heard, as the marrow moved beneath his skin, and in a matter of moments the snapping stopped, and his body was back to it’s normal, brittle state… He stood up calmly on his hooves before the pink glow faded once more.

He grinned a little wider, and then turned his gaze to the line of curious foals and waiting Laughing Dead, lifting up his front right hoof and waving it to them as he spoke out cheerfully.

“Alright kiddies! Everything’s fine here, go back to the party while the goodies are still fresh! Hahahaha! Have your fill of cake and ice-cream, play some games! I’ll finish the story at the next party, I promise!” He spoke, his voice merry as he chuckled softly, waving to the foals as the Laughing Dead turned, and started to help the foals move back to the party, and he shook his head a bit, coughing softly, before turning his gaze to the now sullen Sun Prancer, her cheeks streaked with her tears.

“And now my dear Sun Prancer… let’s go get your sword.” He spoke, as face smiling lightly as he looked down to her, smiling a bit more, as Sun Prancer looked back up to him with a sullen glare.

“Because soon enough my dear, you’re going to need it…” He spoke simply, before raising his left hoof and pointing up into the sky… Sun Prancer raised her left brow in confusion, before turning her gaze to follow the pointing of Grinning Geld’s hoof… and seeing against the clear blue sky, three objects… off in the distance, appearing small, and seeming to glint in the sunlight as they slowly seemed to grow bigger… getting closer to the city…

…

The interior of an Airship luxury cabin was a pleasure that few ponies got to experience. It was made with the comfort and safety of the passenger in mind above all else, so it was uniquely designed to stay steady, even when the rest of the ship was knocked with heavy gusts. Short of an actual crash, there would be only a pleasant floating sensation in adverse weather for those dwelling inside.

Another pleasure was that the walls, ceiling, and floor was made of a special soft white wood, gentle to the hooves and without a splinter to be seen, kept immaculately clean for guests. This time around however most of the floor was covered by rugs so the wood would likely go untouched by hooves. The rugs were lovely white and black striped rugs… taken from the hides of some very reluctant zebras who may or may not have been left skinned alive for their fellows to find.

The bed in the room was a singles bed with golden colored blankets, white sheets, and white pillows. The bed sat against the wall opposite the door, and to its side was a large window, square at the top and sides with the two sides coming down into a point at the bottom, white wood framing the window and the glass crystal clear and clean, looking down to the blue sky and clouds below… The door across from the bed was also made out of the white wood, elegantly carved with the diamond of House Whitegold upon the front, framed by a wreathe of flower-covered vines, that in turn moved down into a single leafy vine instead of flower-covered, that then moved down, to the sides, and up and around to frame the doorway. Thin gems with points at either end and six edges in total were carved in as well, between the leafy and flower vine sets, around the diamond in the center.

The door was extremely elegant for a hunk of wood, showing the time and care Whitegold took to make something beautiful… The ornateness of the armor of the two Praetorponies, standing to either side of the door, also helped illustrate that point. Their plated metal armor was white with gold edgings and etchings all over it, and gold rings upon their horns with tiny oval white diamonds in the gold. The chainmail beneath their plate was a dark grey, and their plumage and cloth coverings were both a deep purple, with some gold etching on the cloth. Each of them stood with a shield resting by their front-right hooves, leaning up against their armored legs. The shields were made out of the white plate metal to, with a sharp golden edging, artistically painted symbols on the front including the House diamond, and sharp gleaming blades, sticking out from the shield at the sides, ready to cut and rend… The two Praetorponies stood guard, firm and unflinching, as the sound of water in a tub sloshed slightly.

A golden bathtub rested in the middle of the room, encrusted with sapphires and diamond jewels, circling around with flower patterns etched into the tub, swirling about them, the four feet of the tub resting upon one of the zebra rugs, the feet stylized in the form of griffon feet.

The tub was filled with bubbling pink suds, water, various types of soaps and lathers, and the body of the unicorn mare who resided in it. The unicorn mare was an older mare, however still very attractive to look upon, her brilliant white coat with a natural luster and her body kept in good shape… Her mane was short, blonde, and curled up on the top of her head, and her tail was about medium-length, buried in the water. Each of her four hooves hung off the sides of the bathtub as her body sunk into the sweet, bubble-filled water, the unicorn breathing in and out slowly, a sigh of contentment escaping her lips, as two Earth ponies stood at either side of her, seeing to her hooves as her body rested…

The two Earth Pony mares were from the House of Earthly Pleasures, and stood on either side of the tub. One of these mares had a light pink coat, as well as soft green hair, and light grey eyes. She was a pretty thing, wearing a white cloth collar with a simple oval blue sapphire at the front, as all mares of the House of Earthly Pleasures did, and wore a small white headband in front of her mane, her mane straight back behind it. Her flank, which many stallions and certain mares would admit was quite the thing to look at, had a Cutie Mark of a hooficure file on the side… She herself was on the side of the tub opposite the door, near to the top, giving the white hoof of the pony residing in the tub a hooficure with a file just like her Cutie-Mark.

On the other side, dressed with the white collar and the same hairstyle, but with a light yellow coat, soft green eyes, and a dark purple mane, was another attractive Earth Pony mare. She had a Cutie-Mark of a small round bar of soap with some bubbles rising up from it. She stood near to the bottom of the tub, with a soft yellow cloth in her hooves, gently wiping in slow little circles at the unicorn’s hoof, giving it a gentle shine…

“Mmmmmm… Divine…” Spoke the Unicorn mare softly, feeling the need to voice her pleasure as the lathers of the water soaked into her coat, bubbles tickled her chin, and the attentions of the Earth Ponies made her hooves feel absolutely wonderful…

She continued to rest in the tub with her eyes closed as a knock sounded at the door, causing the Praetorponies to turn and look towards the unicorn in the tub. She lazily lifted her front left hoof, head still back and eyes closed, giving it a slight wave to the Praetorponies, before bringing it back to rest over the side of the tub. The Praetorponies nodded, and the one to the left of the door brought his horn to a blue glow, the door caught in a blue aura and then opened, outwards from the room, before a Pegasus pony stepped in…

The Pegasus pony was a stallion with a trim black mustache, trim black mane, and dark grey coat. He stood wearing a tuxedo coat with a black bowtie on the upper half of his body, his wings tucked to his sides as he walked in, a Cutie-Mark of a bottle of Hard-Grape-Cider upon his flank. He bowed deeply towards the bathtub, and spoke in refined humble tones.

“My Lady, the Captain wishes to inform you that we will be arriving in Baltimare within the next hour.” He spoke, his voice soft, as the figure in the tub chuckled softly, her smile widening slightly on her face.

“Wonderful… Do be a dear and tell the captain to have my luggage sent down. All of it.” She spoke, lifting up her front-left hoof and waving it slightly towards the Pegasus, dismissing him as he bowed once more.

“At once my Lady.” He spoke, stepping back out from the room, the door closing in a blue aura once more from the Praetorpony at the right. The lady chuckled softly once more, shifting position a bit as she spoke, her voice full of pleasure.

“Mmmm… Pick up the pace a little girls, I want my hooves to be absolutely shining! After all…” She spoke, grinning wide with her head laid back on the tub, as she opened her brilliant pink eyes…

“I want to look presentable for the party… Heheheheh…”

Author's Note

Okay... hope this is enjoyed.