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~Princess Luna

Post in forum #1905 - An ongoing MLP Roleplay Thread, Rated PG-13.

Only a moment passed before the koala opened his bag. Morhoof figured it was a good idea to interrupt him before he really got started. He lowered his head to speak quietly into Perth’s ear while Fantasy and Punctuality bickered in hissing whispers. “There are more parts in the cart out front. The parts I wanted you to make into gear for the jail-break.”

Perth looked up from his bag to Morhoof, a peculiar look in his eyes. “But Fantasy got free unaided.”

“You look ready to make something for this one. Thought you could use more parts to make something bigger.” Morhoof mentally kicked himself. If Perth could make a thought-bomb that pacified the hearts of ponies in mid-combat on the fly, Morhoof was fairly confident that he was capable of making something that could do horrible things. He sure as Tartarus didn’t want something like that anywhere near Fantasy, nor himself…or anypony, really. “But, ah…try for something that’ll cause the least amount of bloodshed, and won’t level the tavern in the process. They’re all in the front room, so head out through the back and around.” Morhoof turned his attention to the two unicorns, still arguing in whispers. “Also…take Punctuality with you. If something goes wrong, you won’t be stranded.”

Perth looked to the young colt with uncertainty, seeming to contemplate it. After a moment he nodded, closed up his bag, and tip-toed over to the back door. Waited there.

Morhoof walked in between the siblings and they stopped their squabbling momentarily, looking ready to continue. “Punctuality, I want you to go with Perth and watch his back while he works his magic. If something goes awry, teleport back here with him. Can you manage that?” It’d be a lot easier to remain undetected without the colt in the back with them. He and Fantasy got under each other’s skins like only siblings could.

Punctuality glanced at Perth and then back to Morhoof, “Yeah, yeah I can do that.” He joined Perth at the back door and the two near-silently crept out.

That was better. “Fantasy, you said that you escaped police custody earlier. It could be them, but the timing with Forte Presto’s escape is too suspect for it to be a coincidence. Do you think you can try and identify them? If it is the police, I don’t want to make the situation any worse. But if it is Forte Presto’s thugs, I don’t want to waste any more time.”

Fantasy nodded. “No, it’s the police. I recognize that voice, Captain Straight Arrow.”

So it wasn’t some rabble hired by Forte Presto, but that just meant a different set of problems. “What exactly did they want with you?”

“They think that I worked for Smog, but they have no proof I did anything illegal. Because I never did any. Then Tradewind showed up, knocked out the captain, and we snuck out.”

Morhoof’s mind blanked and his ego shriveled. Uncomfortable silence fell for a time, as they waited for Perth to return carrying…or possibly riding…some mechanical contraption.


The noise, albeit quiet, caught Morhoof off-guard. His ears snapped to point in the direction it came from. His head and eyes followed suit. A door he vaguely suspected led to the pantry. He shot a glance at Fantasy, she shrugged with wide eyes and a tiny head-shake. Morhoof approached the door; the air thickened with the sense of a presence wishing to go undetected. Unfolding the pincer claw from his mechanical hoof, he probed around in his brain until he got what he was looking for. An arc of lightning jumped between the points. He didn’t look toward the unicorn mare, sensing she had followed him over. Morhoof moved to the knob side of the door. The knob lit with a purple aura. Morhoof nodded. Fantasy used her magic to quickly yank the door open. This put the door between her and whatever was inside. Morhoof leaned his head sideways to peek in, hoof ready to grapple and zap a charging enemy.

A pale purple unicorn stared back at Morhoof with wide eyes, flicking up and down between his face and the claw. He felt surprise, then recognition, then chagrin that in the fuss he had forgotten all about Bubbles. An idea sparked in Morhoof’s brain. He waved to Fantasy, peeking at him from behind the open door. She poked her head around it to see Bubbles and seemed to bite back a rude word of unwise volume.

“I have an idea.” Morhoof said. “Maybe.” Odds seemed good Fantasy might punch him for even suggesting it.

Fantasy pointed out something Morhoof hadn’t noticed. “Things just got really quiet in the other room.”

Morhoof’s turn to stifle a rude word.