Civil Patrol: A Five Score Tale
Chapter 14: Tests, Trials, Tribulations...
Previous Chapter Next ChapterThere were droves of them congregating in groups beside their communication vans. Antenna towers already extended, cameras on shoulders or set on tripods, they were prepped for live broadcasts as soon as they spotted their quarry. And he knew who they were waiting for. Up on the roof of the building, Civil stared down at all of the reporters and cameramen arrayed on the street corner of the Dallas Police Department headquarters. He had spotted them long before he got within their eyesight and had angled around to use the building for cover. Luckily the multi-level parking garage and private lot behind the building was a secure area and the gated fencing kept outliers from monitoring his approach.
He was pretty sure application day for candidates never garnered this kind of fanfare...certainly not the kind he was used to...you know, like when he screwed up yet another case or was causing political nightmares for that certain Civil banishing princess back in Equestria. Those events typically led the front page on whichever paper gave a rat's ass when nothing better was worth printing for the day. Back then it was such rags as the Canterlot Gazette, the Canterlot Cwibbler, or the more prestigious Canterlot Times. Manehattan Times gave even less of a rat's ass. Their motis operandi was to usually be flank deep in some scandal within their own city. Canterlot was too hoity toity for their more 'sophisticated' Manehattan readers. Snort. A Royal Guard member messing up in the capital? Not a blip on their radar. Though those ponies felt it was their Celestia-given right to be miserable and treat other ponies like dirt anyway, so fuck em.
Today's deal was a massive blip, if he was reading those vehicle labels down there correctly. The majority of them were not local, a lot of vans down there were belonging to TV stations and channels he didn't recognize. Sitting back so nobody would spot him, he thought about his options. All the other entrances required a security card to badge in since they were cypher locked. He could try sneaking in with a uniformed officer, but he was more likely to be detained and cause an even bigger scene, first for the sneaking bit, and second because there was no way any pony could sneak anywhere these days, not with the population being more human than pony. He snorted to himself. He imagined non-pony refugees had it even worse getting from point A to point B these days. Still...he preferred to not make a first impression guaranteed to reject his application before he could even take the exam.
Flexing his wings for what was to come, he decided on the tried and true Civil Patrol method: 'shock and awe' (usually followed by 'shit'). He mentally checked the distance in his head. It would require a quick reverse power stroke right after a short drop, a hover, then a touchdown and dash for the door. Without cracking the pavement. Tricky tricky tricky, he mused. Winds whipping around this tall of a building were not helping matters. Taking one last deep breath, he lept over the ledge...and instantly knew he'd miscalculated when he saw a group of candidates walking right up to the front doors directly below him.
He yelped, getting their attention. They scattered out just quick enough to barely allow him some room as he ungracefully fluttered down amongst them. Legs almost giving out and splayed haphazardly under him, he yanked his wings in as the larger humans almost stampeded a few feet before settling down. Immediately he heard the surge of reporters moving forward. To their credit, the candidates weren't daft either and quickly recovered from his surprise arrival. They rushed the door, all squeezing in while he jostled around trying not to get trampled. They did what they could to shield him, inadvertently or otherwise as they moved in with him as a group and slammed the doors shut. Uniformed officers moved in from either side and barred the doors both inside and out, waving their hands to tell the reporters the building was not open to the public at this time. Once he was able to pull himself out of the group and check his wings for any damage, his ears started picking up random comments.
"What the fuck was that all about?"
"They're here for the pony that DFA'd us."
"DFA'd?"
"Death From Above. It's a Battletech term."
"Wow, where did you get your education? It was from the US Airborne troops during World War Two-"
"Try the Spanish Civil War. Germans supporting one side dropped behind enemy lines and caused havoc..."
"Oh thank god someone actually reads a book in this lot. I thought I'd get stuck with a bunch of ex-military yahoos."
"Oh piss off! Military gives you freedom-"
"Hey, did we earn a lifesaving bar for getting him...uh, her..in here what the fuck is it anyway?"
"It's a pegasus, genius. Go back to Battletach-"
"It's BattleTECH, dingus..."
At least they weren't complaining about him anymore, although a few of the applicants not quite interested in the history debate were eyeing Civil with less than amused expressions. Once he was able to move away from the group, he looked around the lobby and saw the sign with an arrow and the words 'Police Candidates Apply Here'. The arrow was pointing to the stairs. An officer was standing near the sign in case applicants wandered anywhere other than the stairs. The man smirked slightly. "Media can be a bitch. If you make it, get used to them, at least until they get bored with you."
Civil shrugged and muttered, "I've never liked the media. They're not in it to help you out, that's for sure."
The officer nodded and replied, "Then you've already got that lesson down. Just remember, they are always watching, even when you are not." He glanced up, "They're assembling upstairs, in case you're wondering." Civil grunted, glancing back at the sign to make a point that he'd already seen it. As he made his way over to the steps, he passed a very old vintage police car that looked almost like a Model-T. He didn't have time to read the placard before the other applicants were following, so he hustled up the steps. Looking up, he finally noticed the Bell helicopter suspended over the entire lobby. In a way it looked smaller up close than they did from far away. Luckily he hadn't run into any of these in the sky. Those blades looked menacing.
Once on the second floor there was another lobby, with more signs and arrows pointing to the media room. Thank Celestia there was no media in here. There were some more displays with various police related items. In essence it was a small museum. A very small one, which he took in at a glance and considered it fully visited. He walked over to a table where people were signing in. Once it was his turn he stepped up and looked down. Several lists were arrayed in alphabetical order. He almost started looking up his old name before he remembered the application was under Patrol, which is where he found his full name. He grabbed a pen from the nearby box with his wing, scribbled his initials on the line and headed into the media room.
He was slowly becoming aware of a quiet bubble projected around himself wherever he walked, unlike the tsunamic noise that was the press once they had spotted him. As both candidates and officers noticed he was there, the chatting stopped. Once he had found an open spot at one of the tables, the chatter started up again, though it was muted. He supposed he was going to have to get used to that as well. After all, he was slated to be the first police pony for any major city. His eye twitched. Historical or not, they could at least be less obvious in their staring. He situated himself in the seat and shrugged off his saddlebags. A standard civil service exam packet sat before him and for every other applicant or empty seat. He grinned to himself. Civil Service, the job as well as the family member. He remembered back when his human mother had mistakenly brought her up in offering suggestions for work. While his pony side wouldn't have thought anything of his Equestrian heritage, his human side did see the coincidences in names. Perhaps there were no coincidences, he pondered sagely. That was kind of how the harmony of magic was supposed to work.
A woman in civilian attire took to the podium. She wore a white blouse with a gray business skirt. "We will be starting soon. Before you is your test packet, along with a questionnaire. Once you are done with both, please bring them up to the table over there and wait in the lobby just outside these doors. Try to keep it down until all the testers have completed the exam. After the final tester has turned in his work, we will tally the scores and post them outside by the last four of your social. Those that pass can return at 1 o'clock to continue with their application process. Those that do not pass, you can reapply in six months. Please place all bags and nonessential items under the table.
He nudged his bags forward and waited. They mostly contained a few bottles of water, snacks, documents the department had requested he print out at home and some paper towels, in case he found a decent place to eat lunch. He glanced around the room, catching a few others watching him. Some looked away, but most seemed cordial. A lot of the people were young, though. While the criteria to even be considered for this position consisted of either college or military experience, he doubted he could count more than two or three that did not have a nervous look about them. To those few, this was simply one more task to perform to get to the next task. One or two of them gave him a nod, to which he nodded back.
"Everyone is ready?" She paused to see if there were any objections. When none were heard, "Begin."
The test wasn't quite so tough as he thought it would be. When he had first emailed his application, he was directed to take the practice test that was posted online. It was mostly reading and grammar comprehension, with basic math. Some of it was a little tricky, but for the most part it wasn't too bad. This thing was three hours long, which was painful in and of itself. Once he answered the final question he pushed the packet aside and centered the questionnaire in front of him, reading the first question.
-> Why do you want to be a police officer?
He thought for a while. His original reasons for joining the Guard were juvenile...and yet, the core of his beliefs still remained. He wrote: To be in the right place at the right time. Too few ponies, and people, ever are.
-> Do you get along with your fellow coworkers?
He snorted. That was a loaded question. His eyes scanned down the questionnaire. All of these questions were loaded. One of the last ones caught his attention and he sighed, not looking forward to deal with that one. The rest of the questions he answered with the generic 'yes I am a good pony' answer derivative.
Eventually he got to the one he was dreading.
-> What tickets, misdemeanors, or felonies have you committed or think you might have committed. These questions and answers will be reviewed in a polygraph exam so being truthful will help with your application process.
Yeah, right. He sighed, thinking. Gritting his teeth he wrote: I shoplifted several times when I was a teenager. I got one seatbelt ticket and one speeding ticket while in high school. My Airforce flight crew purchased a prostitute to give me a hand job while we were deployed on a training mission in Canada.
He squeezed his eyes shut. That last one was a secret he had told nobody, human nor pony, since he had reverted to pony form and had gone back to Equestria. While it was not the worst thing he felt he had done, it was certainly the one he was most shameful about. For a short time in the Air Force, he had even earned the name Jerkin Jason. For reason. The other things he had done or might have done...he sighed. He was going to have to brave the polygraph and hope they didn't dig too deep.
Everyone was allowed a break for lunch, which he was grateful for. He was famished. He had spied a barbecue place down the street on the way in but was leery to go downstairs. After confirming that he'd received a passing score for his exam, he was leaning against the wall, debating what he wanted to do for the next hour. One of the female officials that had helped administer the exam came over and asked, "Are you not going to get something to eat? Food in your belly is better than nothing, given the fitness test later today." She seemed more fascinated to be talking to a living breathing flying equine than trying to be of help, but he'd take it nonetheless. He couldn't keep downing every olive branch thrown his direction.
He shrugged. "I don't feel like dealing with all those cameras down there."
She smiled and nodded at a side door leading to the parking deck. A few of the floors connected to the multi-level structure by short bridges. "You can go out that way. I'm sure someone will buzz you back in. We all know you are an applicant, so nobody will tackle you." She chuckled lightly, "At least, not for breaking the law. Unless being too cute is breaking the law." He grumbled. Girls. Granted this was what he originally wanted to do in the first place. Use the door, not get taclked. sickos :P
Still, not wanting to look a gift human in the mouth, he would take it. He nodded his thanks and made his way outside, then winged his way down to the diner. Glazed chicken and fries sounded great right about now. He was able to make it back in time for the rest of the grading process. All the applicants were directed to go out the same door he just came through, cross the sky bridge and set up for the fitness test on the top floor of the parking garage. They were already on the top garage floor so they didn't have to go very far.
An instructor wearing a red collared t-shirt and ballcap stood in front of them. He pointed to the white strip of tape on the pavement. "You will all line up here. When I yell bang, begin the run." He paused, hearing a number of individuals snickering. Civil couldn't help but chuckle as well. The man smiled grimly, "That's funny, right. Yeah, we used to use a good ol' fashion starting pistol until this building got shot up by some wacko in an armored van he bought on ebay. Since then, people working here at the HQ get a little jumpy when they hear gunshots."
The chuckling became a sea of silence. The man's mouth twitched before he resumed speaking, "Starting to sink in, what you signed up for? We run to the fight when others run away. Never forget that. This is the mile and a half course, five and a third times around the cones of the top deck. Yell the number of laps completed when you pass this starting line. On the fifth pass, you will finish on up ahead where we will be yelling out your final times. Remember your time and inform the scorekeeper of your result. We will try to keep track of it, but there are more of you than us, so you'll have to do your part. Now get ready to run to the fight, applicants. Line up." He waited until they were ready. "Three two one.....bang!"
Civil allowed the mob of people to string out ahead of him. He never liked jockeying for position back during school when he had PE. College too, during ROTC training. Except, now, he was sliding past all of them as he casually cantered on by. He knew he could be galloping if he wanted, and he was already outpacing them. Being the first time he ever measured running speed of the pony form to humans, he was startled with his progress. Soon he was ahead of the group. At one point he was out by himself when he finished the first lap, well ahead of everyone by a good half lap. He decided to finish the race at a nice leisurely pace, suspicious of the fact that if he blew the time out of the water they would simply change the minimums to a pony standard that would be a lot tougher to maintain.
As he coasted in to the finish line and got his time, the instructor commented, "Hm, you're pretty fast, by human standards. Don't be surprised if they change the test minimums in the future regarding you ponies." Civil shook out his wings to cool himself down and nodded, chagrin seeping in.
"I was just thinking that, sir. Though that would have to include a lot more of us ponies applying, right?" The man eyed the pegasus.
"We'll see." Civil wasn't quite sure if that was a hit against his race, or something else. In all fairness, he figured he was the pilot program for pony integration into human society with regard to certain roles in that society, so there had to be quite a number of people unsure of how this was going to progress, himself included.
He had a very nice resting phase before everyone else was finished. They were directed to form two lines facing each other. "Next is the pushups. You will start in the forward leaning rest position." As his line moved, "Not you, winged wonder." Civil paused as he flexed his legs a little. "Wingups for you." His wings drooped. The man grinned. "Yeah, we did our research. If you want to bitch at someone, try the 75th Rangers, from what I hear. We'll be getting more streamlined guidance on pony fitness down the road. Also, if your application does gets accepted, you'll be wearing those special short shorts they requisition to their soldiers, too. None of that cultural naked nonsense in the academy. Don't need to scare the ladies, and some of the guys, with that alien anatomy you got goin on down there." Civil's tail whipped down close to cover said anatomy. The man raised his voice, "That goes for the rest of you. We do not discriminate against aliens, ponies, or descendants of primates, like the rest of you knuckleheads. You will wear compression shorts anytime we have DT instruction or any other physical evolution. No boxers, no tighty whities, and no commando style forays into the jungles of your partner's face. The junk stays hidden. Women, you're no exception. Keep it covered." All eyes went everywhere except in a direction that would involve inspection of said junks.
The fitness test progressed as could be expected. The 100 yard dash was simple enough. Situps, meh. Standing long jump had a few hiccups on his part. His first attempt got the instructor griping at him about how hovering indefinitely at the other end of the jump zone was not, in fact, a completion of the exercise. A threat to tie his wings to his barrel gave him the motivation to do it properly, in the end.
Once all the scores were recorded, they were given instructions to return bright and early the next morning in business attire. The day was to be filled with interviews with senior officers, investigators, and a polygraph expert. He was thankful he'd gone shopping for a decent pony suit while visiting Hot Pink the day prior. The tie was going to be a challenge. Nothing could ever be simple, he mused to himself while he flew back home. Of course, he could always wear a clipon tie-
***
"No you will not!"
"Yes! I! WILL!"
"You step one hoof out that door and you will never be allowed back in again!"
"You wouldn't!"
"Try me, princess."
This was the tirade of feminine screaming he encountered as soon as he opened the front door of his home. He had arrived with notions of relaxing after the long and tiresome day he just experienced. It was not to be, apparently. "Must be voice strengthening day...." Civil muttered to himself as he lightly stepped down the hallway to the kitchen.
Liberty bolted out of said kitchen, nearly running into him. She took one look at him and ran up the stairs. The top landing of the staircase turned 90 degrees to the left, which she completely missed...and plowed into the wall, leaving a beautiful impression of a pegasus side profile outlined in the drywall, wings included. On a sidenote, the neighbor across the street had a Mobil gas station vintage sign made out of metal. It was circular with a 10' diameter and a nicely rendered side profile of a pegasus on it. The thing was hanging on the fence for some reason, a remnant of a bygone era. It's the odd things that pop into your head now and again, ya know?
Completely unfazed, Liberty shook it off, spun around to glare down at them and shouted, "I HATE you! I HATE Civil, I HATE this pony shit and I HATE THIS HOUSE!!!" Then she disappeared down the upstairs hallway. His ears tracked her until she made it to her room and-
>BANG<
"Yep, that would be the bedroom door," he mused to himself. As a human juvenile, she always had a penchant for placing door slams at the end of her tirades. Didn't matter what house or body they were in, the routine was apparently the same, still. There was that one time she put her foot through the wall, though, after a series of rapid kicks and screaming when she wasn't getting her way. Age 10, maybe? The ensuing pause of silence had caused his parents to check in on her, only to find she had a plastic toy storage box propped up against the wall and a story about how she had 'fallen' and dropped the box into the wall. The foot shaped hole in that wall didn't hold up in parent court, which led to heavier fines and punishment. Now that was an emotional episode in their family's history books.
This...mmm, probably a midlevel emotional meltdown, all things told.
He frowned, hoping there wouldn't be a repeat of the foot in the wall incident. His ears swiveled while he extended his jaw to open up his ear canals to augment his senses. Mule kicks from a frustrated filly would do far worse damage than a 10 year old's footsies...but after several seconds of silence, he figured it would have happened by now. Shaking out his mane to relieve the tension built up in his muscles, he walked into the kitchen.
Karen brushed past him going the other direction. She sighed in frustration and leaned out, eyeing the upstairs shadowy hallway to see if Liberty had snuck back quietly. She knew her daughter did most of this stuff for attention and it wouldn't have surprised her if the girl was checking to see how concerned her mother was. Girl/mare. Whatever. She knew underneath all that female raw emotion there was a very calculating brain on that girl's shoulders. Karen was a girl once, too, but never this bad. Honest. She never had tantrums like this. You'll get no dinner if you disagree with Karen.
If Civil could read minds he would have pointed out the grease fire kitchen incident several years ago, the father fighting the alligator over a catfish incident, the little glass figurine incident, the-
Hm...he wanted dinner.
Civil stepped aside, not wanting to be in the crossfire, but wanting dinner. And thankfully he kept his mouth shut. Satisfied this particular episode was over, Karen walked back, patting him on the head as she went by. She looked around, first at the dishwasher, then the sink, then the pantry, and finally her potted plants that were arrayed around the sink and up on the cabinets. Seeing that there really was nothing for her attend to, she moved over to the table and sat down, resting her chin on one hand as the other picked up her cell phone and started scanning for emails. He knew she didn't like using cell phones and only had one out of necessity, mostly to show off pictures to friends at work. That she would voluntarily go to the phone now to pass the time, that was a bad sign.
Civil took his usual seat at the end of the table near the backyard door and pressed his hooves together. She didn't look up. He ventured delicately, "I guess I missed the big furor."
She didn't react for several seconds, just tapping away on her phone. He was about to move out of the chair when she blinked and chuckled, still looking down. "Funny, and appropriate. I have always liked that word, furor. Apt for the occasion." She had a major in linguistics. Words were a thing.
He smirked slightly and waved a hoof at the phone. "You know, they have an 'Apt' for that."
This time she looked up, her mouth quirking in noted cringe. "Cute." She looked back down.
Another minute passed.
"Can I ask what this was all about? Everypony...everyone seemed fine this morning. What could have possibly happened in half a day?"
Karen paused her tapping and placed the phone down. She turned her head and gazed at him. "What is 'initiation' and why does it involve coloring body parts?"
Civil shut his eyes and groaned softly. He opened them and asked, "What did she say?"
Sitting up, his human mother rolled her shoulders and neck, tendons popping. She so needed a massage. "Well, your sister-slash-mother up there thinks she can just go out by herself to the nearest salon and dye her wings and hair whatever color she wants. She even wants to color her, uh-" She held up one arm and tapped the area just behind her wrist. "These hairs...."
"Fetlocks?" Whew, thank BEJESUS it wasn't-
"Yes, fetlocks. She wants to color all of that, permanently." He already knew the argument. Tattoos had come up once, briefly, during their human childhood, and the result had been the same. Arguing, door slamming, and eventual acceptance that tats did not belong on juvenile skin. At the time, it had blown over after the one time event. He wasn't about to mention his sister most assuredly got one or more tats the minute her feet hit college campus. He knew of the butterfly on her lower back...which was probably no longer there, he thought. Hm.
Now it was deja vu all over again; the yelling, the door slams, mother and daughter locked in a battle of wills. Father and son scrambling for cover. He glanced away. Was saying 'deja vu all over again' like saying 'deja vu deja vu...?' It was such a weird word anyway. Must be Prench- "I absolutely WILL NOT allow that little girl to ruin her body. I don't care how old her mind is, you get one body in this life." Well, minus the ponies getting a few bodies. She clamped her mouth shut. She had also said 'girl'. He raised an eyebrow, obviously aware of her mistakes. She waved her hand and said darkly, "You know what I mean. All of it."
Of course he did. And while he could argue Liberty was mature mentally, Karen also knew about young pony minds still being in their developmental stage, something the family had gleaned from the internet regarding adult humans turning into young foals. Knowledge helped ease certain things, but in this, it only made things more frustrating. Karen was adamant about the developmental part, and very protective. He tried a different tack. "Was the whole kicking her out of the house bit really necessary?"
She clicked her teeth and returned to her phone, replying tersely, "She frustrates me Jason. She always has." His human name. Yeah, she was pissed.
Glancing around, he noticed something. Or, a lack of something, for that matter. "Um, where's dad?"
"Walking. Probably smoking. He chose not to deal with this and left it to me. Again."
Slowly, Civil pushed back from the table and slipped out of the chair. For once, his retreat from the dinner table did not involve a subject matter completely centered around him. She began to turn around but he raised a hoof, forestalling her. "Initiation, it's like a coming of age for fliers. It was a thing up in Cloudsdale mostly, before the curse. It involves partying, getting tats, going to raves and very heavy techno concerts. It's also visits to the local salon to color your feathers, mane and tail. Mm...it can also involve other...things...but," he added quickly as he saw her face darken, "...there's no Cloudsdale here and I didn't see any of that going on in Frontier yesterday. Sooooo," he ducked his head slightly while rustling his wings, "I think she is safe from influences this side of the portal. Another pony mentioned initiation during our lunch yesterday. That's where she got it if you want to know. Was she on the computer today?"
His mother nodded. "All morning. She only came down a little while ago excited about all these things she wanted to do. And turning down admirers like its a badge of honor." She practically growled out that last part, and he almost heard the word 'hussy' under her breath.
He blinked, confused..."What do you mean, admirers?"
All she did was wave her hand, making a disgusted sound. "Ask her. None of my business, remember? This is your ADULT sister we are talking about."
He sighed, putting that aside for the moment. After getting his thoughts straight, he said slowly, "Okay, mom, I'm going to need you to have an open mind about this." She raised her brows but said nothing. That was a hoof in the doorway, he supposed. "More than the other ponies, we pegasi can be a bit wild when it comes to life." He noticed her rolling her eyes. Given his sister's history, that wasn't saying very much. He glanced up as though he could see the little filly upstairs.
"Mom..." He glanced at Karen and smiled weakly, "um, that mom..." he gestured with his wing upwards, "When I was younger, I think she was too physically weak to ever truly introduce me to it, but I imagine we would have done it if she weren't sick back then." His eyes looked around in thought. Sitting back on his haunches, he said in a low voice, "I don't remember her having a colored mane or feathers. Possibly they faded out by the time I was born. If she has always been this way...she may well have gone through it, and I just missed it, given her condition."
As much as Karen wanted to stay mad, the sheer heartbreaking nature of Liberty's former life did soften the situation somewhat. She still looked dubiously at him. He raised his forehooves in front of him offering a possible explanation. "I'm thinking she read all sorts of stuff while online and wants to fully embrace the pegasus experience? I can go talk to her, dispel most of the crap she saw. Would it be so bad if she colored some of her fur or feathers? Some highlights in her mane or tail? It's a cultural thing, and with all those ESL trips to different countries with your students, you always were big on that kind of stuff."
While Karen's face remained clouded with negativity, she knew there would have to be a compromise eventually. She nodded once, then raised a finger, "One condition. You tell me everything you know about it, and I mean EVERYTHING...and I'll consider it. I want to be there, too, for the coloring part. I know, two conditions. However, if those conditions are not met, little Missy up there is on lockdown until she can control herself. Mature or not, her physical brain is still developing, right?"
He nodded grudgingly. That was part of the standard reading when one did a search on pony issues online. She turned back to her phone. His sharp eyes spied her typing in 'initiation' and he turned away, heading to the stairs. If he didn't get out of their, she'd be peppering him with more questions, some he was not about to answer by himself. First he had to handle ol' Wyld Style upstairs, sans Lego Movie plot. That involved a certain level of bluntness only he could provide.
Once upstairs, he knocked on the door with his hoof.
"Go Away!" It was muffled.
He tried the lever doorknob (thankyou human type mom for installing them) and found the door to be blocked. Sort of. Pushing on it gave way to several stuffed animals falling down from a major pile on the other side of the door. He glanced around past that oddity and spotted the lump under the comforter on the bed. Ah. Squeezing through and gently pushing the door closed, he grinned and burrowed into the pile of animals. Any adult would spot him easy, but he wasn't dealing with an adult right now. He waited.
"I can hear you breathing, idiot."
He held is breath. Damn.
"I can hear you holding your breath. Are you retarded?"
Civil poked his muzzle out just enough to say, "That's not a very nice thing to say." He pulled back into the pile. He could hear the bedding shift and then a cute little sigh of exasperation.
"You are such a dork. You're not hitting me on the head this time." Unbeknownst to him, her eyes were scanning the pile, trying to figure out where his center of mass was. She shifted her rear hooves like a cat readying to pounce, inching back, inching back, then she jumped forward, front hooves held out like spears. Luckily for Civil, he was on the side of the pile, incase something like this was going to happen. Calmly he pulled out of the pile, shaking some beanie babies out from under his wings and sat back on his haunches, waiting.
After a few animals shifted around, she poked her head out, spotted him and glared. "Cheater."
"At least I got you to quit moping. You're too cute for that." She tried to glare harder, but looked away, failing as her cheeks colored.
"Whatever. Anyway, I don't feel like talking right now."
"So I heard. I'm sure the whole neighborhood heard." She met his gaze, quirking a smile at him. He shrugged, "Yah I know, neeeighborhood. Herd. Spbpt."
"Oh the puns just 'fly' out of you." He snorted and she giggled.
"Um...admirers?" That wiped the smile off her face.
Angrily whipping a wing to the side, Liberty replied heatedly, "Oh please, she acts like I'm a slut or something. I just said that to get to her. And anyway, that is none of your business, or hers! In fact, none of what I do-"
He placed a hoof on her muzzle, gently to let her know it wasn't malicious. She was more surprised than incensed by it, so he pressed the advantage. "I get it, you are a grown woman, filly body and all. She is only concerned about your mental development, which you know is a thing, so quit being so defensive about it." She pushed his hoof away from her face but remained silent. "I already spoke to her and she wants to be part of your initiation, should we go down that road." That made Liberty even more surprised and she looked away in contemplation.
"Yeah, I don't see a problem with that, but I choose the colors, not her."
He shrugged, "No complaints."
"And if I do happen to find a pony on down that road, are you busting my chops over it?" Her eyes narrowed at him, ready for a fight.
He shook his head, "Your business, like you said. As far as physical stuff or mental development, this is new territory for everybody involved. Just do me a favor...when you get around to having a coltfriend, can you check with me first? Chances are I might know whether or not he's a good pony."
"Uh, NO?!"
"What do you mean no??"
"For one, that's MY business, again. And two, EW! I'm a filly, Jason! ..perv.."
He frowned, "I am not a perv! I figured that...you know...adult mind working in a young pony's brain...you asked about finding a pony down the road!"
"Oh, so because I used to be an adult that I would just go around having foal sex everywhere. And down the road? I'm talking about friends, Civil. We already sat down and did the online search. I am well aware my brain is 'still developing'. Sheesh, thought I'd just go hog wild for some reason?" The corners of her mouth twitched. Trying to figure out how this conversation got turned around on him, a certain song played in the back of his head, cuz he just got rickrolled.
"Knowing you and your 'I am an adult' attitude? Yeah, I did."
"Wow, so much trust."
"Renee, you do things now and again that shakes everybody's trust, so, YEAH, going with that."
"...........i guess i see your point," she said quietly. Civil snorted and started repeating the current date over and over again. She wrinkled her nose. "What are you doing?"
"Memorizing today's date. I won an argument with you."
"Dork. In any case, I may not even find a colt. Could be a guy."
"Like, a human guy?" She gave him a duh look. He scrunched up his face. "That seems weird, ya know?"
"No, I don't know. What's weird about it? You and I were both humans once, so it's not like it's a new concept to be with one. And besides, you never know when love strikes. That certain special someone comes along....and wham, trading phone numbers, trading fond memories, trading spit-"
"Ugh, I'm not getting into this with my mom/sister/filly-"
"Not like there's a whole load of material on the internet-"
"NO!@!...#$$##^&*%....no!" Squinting his eyes shut, he gritted his teeth. He started pushing plushies out of the way so he could swing the door open, "Just...take your time with it, okay? Lord knows we've had ample experiences to get a baseline for what is a good relationship in our past lives-" He paused as he saw her barely containing laughter. "What are you laughing at?"
When she could finally control herself, she squeaked out, "You. Making baselines for relationships. Now when exactly was this? And don't go lying about any pony adventures just because I wasn't there!"
He struggled to say something, but in those scant few seconds, it was too late. She already knew. "This is not about me." She burst out laughing. Despite her making fun of his weak dating game, he did console himself with the fact that she was in a better mood now. He twisted his neck a few times and turned to the door. "Anyway, I'm not a human anymore, and I've already got somepony in my life." As he walked out into the hallway and turned, he caught her rolling her eyes and sticking out her tongue.
She called after him, "Until you seal the deal, it ain't real. Hey, take it from me, Miss Liberty. If the love is free, it's meant to be!" He flattened his ears as much as possible to block her out and stalked down the hallway. Before he could fully get away, she quipped, "Besides, I already had my first online encounter, but it shut down pretty quick, so no worries."
He felt a cold feeling in the pit of his stomach. So it wasn't just random hypotheticals between both his moms about online chatting. He had been hoping otherwise. Poking his head back into the room, he asked quietly, "What first online encounter...?"
A few minutes later, and much convincing on his part, they were in front of the computer screen. It was left on, presumably from earlier when she had run down to confront their mother over what she'd found online and when she could start her own initiation. Ugh, he had to mediate that bullshit between those two, later. Today was just piling on the difficulty levels. After minimizing several browsers, mostly to do with all things pegasus related, a single small window with a black background remained centered on the screen. The command prompt window, with the cursor slowly blinking. Normally he would have figured she accidentally hit a combination of buttons to bring it up, but this version had a few lines that concerned him. Namely....
Microsoft Windows [Version 10.0.19042.1083] (c) Microsoft Corporation. All rights reserved.
C:\Users\Civil>
IPv4 isolated, P2P connection started.
DO YOU KNOW WHAT A CYPHER IS OR HOW TO MAKE A SPLASH?
C:\Users\Civil>no. should i?
Connection terminated.
Civil stared at the screen while standing behind the chair, front hooves on its back while he looked over it. Liberty peeked up at him from below. "See? I didn't say anything inappropriate."
"Libs, this isn't a chat room."
"So? What's the difference?"
He closed his eyes shut, taking a breath. "It's a command prompt...a control window for doing basic commands. Manual operations and scripts...nevermind." Opening his eyes, he asked, "Did you click on anything to bring this up?"
She shrugged. "Nope. I was surfing the web and all of a sudden it popped up in the middle of my fun asking that weird question. I answered and then nothing. Guess I'm so popular I have fans I don't even know about. Some visitors to the statue back home, maybe?" She beamed, getting a kick out of the ego boost.
He slowly shook his head, reading the line over and over. At length, he muttered, "God dammit, hate this hacker crap." At least he wasn't going to get eaten by a velociraptor.
...maybe.
***
It was a somber dinner some time later downstairs in the kitchen/dining room. The meal for the evening was an appetizer of steamed artichokes stuffed with provolone cheese and a topping of Italian bread crumbs, followed with a honey glazed and sesame seed sprinkled salmon. Not generally his favorite dishes if one were to ask him, but Civil didn't mind. They were still very good. In fact, with his new senses of smell and taste, they seemed even more explosive with flavor.
So explosive, he was eating the artichoke in a new way. Whole.
His human mother and father stared at him and he swallowed a few more artichoke leaves. It wasn't until after he drank some water that he noticed their looks. "What?"
Karen was struck between mild shock and nostalgic amusement. She cleared her throat and said, "The last time I saw someone down leaves like that, it was your father's first dinner with my family in New York." Her eyes slid over to him. For his part, Dan huffed and stuck a chunk of fish into his mouth, not bothering to close his lips when he chewed. His lack of amusement clearly showed.
"You make it sound as though I took to it with a knife and fork like a steak."
"You DID take to it with a knife and fork! You choked a few times too, if I remember."
"We'll agree to disagree."
She rolled her eyes and looked back to Civil. He shrugged. "Stringy things like plant matter don't bother me as much now as they would in a human body. It's hard to describe, but chewing on the leaves tastes better and is more filling than just scraping the meat off them." Liberty gave him an odd look, popped a leaf into her mouth and chewed. Her eyes lit up and she renewed her feeding with gusto. He snorted softly.
"So...how was the testing today? I wanted to ask earlier....but, you know..." Yeah, she was having her existential crisis with her extraterrestrial daughter, he finished in his head. Experience taught him not to speak such things out loud.
And with the quick review of the events in his head, including the questionnaire, he started to lose his appetite. Damn. He was only halfway through his fish, too.
Putting his fork down (more like pulling it out of his velcro wristband), he responded in a circumspect manner, "Well...there was a multiple choice exam, which I think I passed, a basic math exam I know I passed, a questionnaire that asked about past crimes I've done and why we want to be police, that kind of stuff, and the physical exam, which I put everypony in the dust. Except the wingups. I absolutely hated those, even the human kind of pushups which I was never good at, anyway."
She was nodding the entire time until he mentioned past crimes. To that, she shook her head slightly. Once he was done, she said, "Past crimes? Oh please, Civil. Of anybody, you are the last one I would expect to commit any crimes."
He remained silent and slowly picked at his food. Liberty stopped chewing altogether and stared at him. This was far more interesting than any wad of food still lodged in her mouth. His two human parents regarded him quite differently. His father was mildly curious but not at all surprised. That any male could get through childhood without committing at least some kind of law breaking was suspicious in and of itself, no matter how goody two shoes they might be. His mother, on the other hand, did not want to believe that her by-the-book son had done anything bad. Certainly she would have seen or heard about it. Good mothers knew everything their children did, naturally.
"Honey...what crime could you have done? You've never been in trouble with the police."
He couldn't bring himself to lift his eyes, knowing the abject disapproval they would soon be greeted with. "I may have shoplifted when I was a kid. Human kid....."
"What could you possibly have needed that we couldn't give you. Candy? Gum?"
"Mm...some video games," he mumbled out. Liberty snickered. Granted, she had snuck some nail polish a time or two, but this wasn't about her, now was it?
Karen made a disgusted sound with her tongue against the back of her teeth. Children of disapproving mothers, you know that sound. "Those damn games. The console ones?"
"Some were computer-"
"Jason!"
He flinched, wings flaring out slightly in defense. He finally met her baleful glare. "Mom, I was a teenager. I only did it a few times. I felt horrible afterwards and I didn't enjoy them at all because they were stolen. I learned my lesson without getting caught. Would you have wanted me to get caught?"
She wiped her mouth with a napkin and slapped it against the table. "I would have wanted you to not do it at all! I am extremely disappointed in you. Do we not provide enough for you? Clothes, food, yes CANDY and GAMES when we felt you have earned them?" She looked to the side, then glanced back at him, "When did you do all this?"
"It was over a decade ago! I don't do that anymore!"
She shook her head again squeezing her eyes shut. "And you wrote this down for them to see? Why would you do such a thing?"
"I had to! They are going to polygraph me tomorrow."
Looking to her husband for support, he raised his eyebrows and shrugged. "It is in the past, and like he said, he learned his lesson. At least we didn't have to go to court or anything."
It wasn't the greatest of resolutions, she thought to herself, yet it not being on his record might be a good thing. "Well at least that is the only thing...." She caught him avoiding her gaze and her mouth dropped open. "Dear God what else?!"
He looked between his two mothers. How had it come to this? How....
Shaking himself, he accepted that this was when those who loved him would change how they saw him for all time. "When I started my navigation training at Tinker, we went on a training exercise up to Canada. There was a bar...and the crew decided to get drinks there. While we were there we noticed it was more like a...strip bar."
The clink of a fork being laid down onto a plate pulled Civil's attention to his father, who was now sitting up. "Don't mind me, go on, son. Strip bar?" He completely ignored the look his wife gave him.
Civil avoided everybody's face at this point and stared at the plate in front of him. "Yeah, a strip bar. Sort of. I was with another nav student, two flight engineers and three pilots. They paid one of the girls to take me to the back area and...do stuff."
"What stuff?" Liberty asked.
"I don't care to hear this," his human mother said, packing up her utensils and napkin into her plate. Clearly she was done for tonight.
"I care to hear it," Liberty responded.
"Son, tell me you used protection," his father said.
Civil threw his hooves up in protest, "I didn't need to, it wasn't that kind of 'stuff'! All she did was try to give me a handjob-" A crash in the sink signaled Karen's continued need to not hear it while Liberty held up a hoof.
"Woh woh, wait! What do you mean TRY to? She did or she didn't, oh misguided son of mine!" Liberty exclaimed. Dan reached over and pushed her hoof down. Clearly he needed to take control of this, given how he was going to hear about it all night long and not get any meaningful sleep alongside a now angry wife.
"I think that'll do-" Dan tried.
"It wasn't even the real thing. She was doing such a terrible job I finished it myself-"
Liberty lost it and fell out of her chair, cackling the entire way down until she made a squeaking sound when she hit, then continued cackling.
Dan merely frowned as he sat back thinking. He exhaled a breath he did not know he was holding. He saw Karen leave the kitchen out of the corner of his eye. Good, he could ask some manly questions now. "Ooookay. So, your flight crew-"
"I can't believe you would jeopardize your application process with that horrible story. WHAT WERE YOU THINKING JASON!?!?" The yell drifting in from the bedroom through the living room to the kitchen and dining area was more sorrowful than angry.
Dan patiently waited for more. When more did not manifest itself, "-your flight crew paid for a sex act...that you ended up completing yourself? Did they get their money back?"
The young pegasus on the floor started banging her hoof on the tiles, "Dad! Stop it! You're killing me! I'm dying down here!" Karen continued making loud noises in the house by doing the whole 'transfer clothes from the washer to the dryer and slam the doors' routine. Dan shrugged as if honest curiosity was still a normal thing around here.
Civil grumbled as he pushed back from the table, "Actually, they were mad. They thought it was a waste of money. I'm going to go apologize to mom."
"No, son."
He stopped before he was halfway out of the chair. Despite the filly's aftershocks of giggles and laughs, Dan's tone had dipped into the serious zone now. "Leave her be. Right now she's more upset because she had such high hopes for you in this police thing. She knows you are not suited for the corporate world, and deep down she knows you are a good boy." He took a deep breath and let it out noisily. "But oooh boy, do you come up with some doozies now and again."
The stallion quietly took his plate to the sink, rinsed it off in the garbage disposal, set the items in the dish washer as he was always taught to do and slunk his way up the stairs to get to bed early. He had a long day ahead of him. If he was to deal with these interviews coming up, most likely about who he was and his slightly colorful history, he needed to have all the energy he could garner. At some point Liberty pranced by his room, briefly glanced at him and stumbled to the floor, laughing uncontrollably. He turned over and buried himself under the overly hot comforter.
***
Heart pounding, breathing heavy. Bright lights flashing around a corner, blinding. Jumping back into the shadows, the very same ones that were casting out toward him, reaching, threatening...it was not the safest place to be, but it was safer. A loud screeching cry and a roar from the metal beast rumbling by was enough to make that decision moot. Civil's eyes were dilated for maximum light and movement detection. Despite wars, skirmishes and perseverance in any of his past lifetimes, it was instinct now that kept him alive. He had been living on instinct for a while, from the grueling castaway experience at sea to the eastern coast centers of population he now found himself in.
A dark figure stood over another in the alley. He ran down the corridor, preparing for the jump he knew he needed to do. The figure raised a brick over his head, intending to bash someone on the ground with it. Civil jumped up, striking the man with his hooves. The man fell. Civil grabbed the brick. The figure that was already on the ground was his mother, crawling away. Civil turned to the figure he had knocked down. It was his father, Civil Justice. Why was he dreaming this. Did he really think his father killed his mother?
Civil was still holding the brick up high when he felt something gently prod his withers. He quickly glanced behind him, and relaxed. It was a foreleg, a pony foreleg. He followed it to the body it was attached to. He could see the telltale large eyes of a pony in the darkness, their glistening surfaces reflecting the street light. Her head was haloed by a miasma of evermoving stars and blackness. She stepped forward to reveal the princess of the night. That simple touch of her hoof seeped away the rage and fear coursing through his very being. It was the touch of a sympathetic creature, similar to him in form and empathy.
He flinched when he heard the crunch of the brick hit the pavement, the one he had been about to use as a weapon. Luna turned her head to look past him and at the scene frozen before them. She spoke softly, "You are not the first to revisit the dark days before the great battle. And I specifically remember this episode, Civil." Tilting her head, she regarded him for a minute. "I can't imagine what my sister is going through on the other side, consoling all those troubled minds once they wake up from their private hells. Although," she smirked in remembrance, "not having you in her mane has most likely resulted in one less troubled mind." Her eyes danced with mirth.
He frowned slightly, not really appreciating what she was implying. "I have no idea what you are talking about. And my mind is not troubled...I just remember bad things now and then." His ears laid low as his voice grew small. He hated being scared, more so in front of others. As if to make a point, he turned his back on the forms lying on the ground and walked out of the alley onto the street sidewalk. The princess followed him.
"Have you always been able to turn away so easily like that?" She was persistent.
He squeezed his eyes shut. It was now clear this was a dream. So many times in the past he had lived it, not knowing it for what it was. He turned toward her to get a better look in the dim glow of the street lamps. He said, "I remember when you came to me...to deal with this...stuff. I never got to thank you, or apologize for how weak I was." Before he could pull back, she had already pressed her forehead against his.
"There is no shame in anything I have seen from you, Civil Patrol." She pulled back slightly to stare him in the eye. "If I were to comment on anything, it would be for you to trust more in yourself. You were in our service before the curse and we trusted you then." His gaze flicked slightly back to the dark alley behind them. Her eyes narrowed and she added, "And I have seen nothing to shake that trust, Guard."
He scoffed slightly, "Celestia kicked me out of Equestria and the Guard." The alicorn's ears perked up at the slight against her sister, the absence of a title, yet the pegasus clenched his jaw and remained firm. Instead, a window popped up out of thin air and the scene in Equestria replayed itself, from the oddly confusing speech the other alicorn gave to the blinding flash when Civil was picked up and tossed through the portal. Luna snorted at that last part. Civil stared at it in awe. "Did you bring that forth, your highness?"
Tossing her mane, she snorted again. "Hardly, my dear Guard. You have dwelt on this for so long, your subconscious brought it to the forefront of your mind." She concentrated and the scene reversed rapidly and replayed again. She blinked. "Did you even listen to her words?" He shrugged, not sure what more he was supposed to get out of that speech. She reached up to her temple with a hoof and rubbed it, muttering, "Out of her mane and into mine....."
A light in the sky washed over the horizon. It consisted of multiple bands of color, a signature rainboom only a rare number of pegasi could achieve. Spiritually it was what anchored him, reminded him of who he was. Those were the more pleasant dreams, remembering that moment in the sky. When he was running scared mere weeks after his change back to a pony, Luna was his guide when he slept. She had literally brought him back from the abyss of his mind. And she was here again. He shuddered when he remembered those days before the beacon went out to all ponies pointing them the way home. He had nearly lost himself to pure animal instincts.
"You are not animal now, nor were you ever." She watched the colors fade in the sky. Being in his mind offered certain limited insights into his thinking. "I can sense this is a revisit of old fears and trauma, that you still question the decisions you have made." Her horn lit up and the night lessened, the coming dawn apparently ushered forth by her magic. "I might be biased toward the night, but even I know the sun has its merits."
He glanced at her, "I don't usually dream about this, unless I'm really stressed about something."
The alicorn tilted her head and walked over to a streetlamp where she sat down under its light. All the other lights along the street were turning off, except this one. The sun hadn't fully crested the horizon yet. She spoke solemnly, "I have some time left, and yours is the most pressing of my quandaries tonight. Tell me what ails you."
Knowing he did not get many of these opportunities, and in deference to a princess he still had some respect for, he sidled up next to her and sat. They both looked up, the last of the twilight stars still lingering in the heavens. In classic Speilberg fashion, a single shooting star danced across the sky. He smiled slightly, "Nice."
She nodded, murmuring, "I thought so." She waited. Privately, it was that moment just before dawn, when but a single breath could shatter the fragile nature of the night and thus usher in the loudness of the morning...that was her favorite time of the night. It was at its most delicate that the night was most precious to her. In a way, it was the pause before an earth-shattering revelation was to unfold, when the listener knew it was coming and the moment lensed into an infinite and simultaneously collapsing singularity of existence....
She breathed deeply, reveling in the moment. Exhilarating and calming at the same time. Her sister could only know the fury of the sun or the calmness of cake, never both at the same time. A shame really, so much was missed in life by only living in polarities. She glanced to the side, almost forgetting she was here for a reason. "Civil?"
He cleared his throat. He had been content to just sit and stare at the sky. Second to the ocean, he liked looking up at the stars. "Yes, mm. Tomorrow I go back to the headquarters, the Dallas headquarters, and they will put me on a polygraph." He went on to explain how he was a failure in the corporate world, and pretty much all of Equestria, which the princess elected not to pursue. That was for another time, she supposed. When he was done, she gave him a moment to see if he would add anything else. He merely sat there, staring off.
She raised an eyebrow. "You never had a problem with the truth before, much to Shining's frustration I might add. Why now?"
Grimacing he glanced away, responding, "It's not so much the truth as it is...things I've done in the past. Things I wish I could undo or at least not have to have dealt with." His gaze lingered to the shadows. The princess next to him thought for a few moments on this, digesting his words.
"An admission to doing something bad would disqualify you from this position of law enforcement, yes?" He nodded. She glanced up wistfully at the stars. "Well, you can choose to lie, which will most certainly trigger the sensors, since you suck at lying." She chuckled at his discomfort. "Or you can simply tell the truth, if asked. Many of us believe we have done worse than what history writes, for reasons that are more horrible than anypony else can ever understand. That is our own curse we each bear as we live our mixed lives. Civil, we must balance what we did before, what we were as humans, and who we must be now." He looked to her, recognizing the wisdom in her words.
She continued, "It really boils down to a few questions. Did you break the law? Did you do wrong? Those can be mutually exclusive at times. You may or may not feel right about something, but we must all stand by what we say and do. Those expressions of thought encapsulate who we are. I suspect a polygraph measures how comfortable you are with your past more than it judges what you did was right or wrong. It also measures whether you think lying in the moment is right or wrong." She sighed and looked up at the sky. "We've both lived in this world almost three decades. We should know by now what the laws are that govern the societies we live in. That at least determines the first question. As to the second, it is how you measure yourself to those laws that determines right or wrong. Only you can answer that." She placed her wing on his withers comfortingly. "The machine will merely hear your answer and reflect how you sit with it."
He nodded slowly. There wasn't much he could say to follow that up. Except... "Would you like to sit in my place, instead?"
She barked out a laugh, startling him. "Fat chance! We are quite comfortable lying to protect state secrets." Her visage darkened, eyes shadowing over, "For there are many we'd just as soon forget, Ourselves." After a time she noticed his demeanor had changed and she stretched her neck. "But that is a concern you need not burden yourself with." She got up and shook out her tail, though she knew it was only residual memory in this realm. It reformed on its own, luxuriant as ever. Habits were strong in the dream world.
He took that as a sign that this meeting was soon to end and stood as well. Lowering his head, "Thankyou, your highness. I don't usually get to talk to anypony about these things. Back home I got the feeling the other guards avoided me on purpose. It was never much of an issue since I was content to do my own thing. Here, back on Earth...I feel-" He felt her wing lift his muzzle.
"My dear little pony-" She hoof pumped off to the side, finally getting one over on her sister, "-from what my memories recall of your ventures, you got results, if not in the manner that most would find orthodox. You have no need to be shameful in front of me. I prefer action over circumspect nonsense that certain 'other' princesses would strive for. Continue being you." She stepped back, her body starting to fade. Their surroundings were beginning to blur as well. "Perhaps in the future once things have settled down, the Night Guard would see you differently than their daytime counterparts. We are always looking for ponies of action."
The light finally spilling over the horizon pried his eyes open in the real world. He was back in his bedroom, a single beam of light coming through the curtains. Glancing over at his phone he saw he was minutes from the alarm going off. He tended to wake up before the alarm, more out of a desire not to hear the jarring sound first thing in the morning than anything else. After fumbling with his phone to deactivate the alarm, he laid there for a while longer before pushing himself up fully. Stretching his wings, and hearing a few pops up and down his back, he muttered, "Guess it's time for action."
***
The guard hated Thursday nights. Fridays and Saturdays were worse, but those were known quantities. Thursday could be nothing, or a ton of ass pain, depending on how the winds went these days. Rowdy guests, constant moving of vehicles and people, occasionally minor hit and runs in the underground parking garage, which meant more paperwork. Didn't matter that the police were the ones that came out to do the reports, security had to make their own reports so that upper management could deal with distraught guests and their lawyers with the promise that everything was being done for the sole benefit of the customer blah blah blah.
It was later into the evening and most of the crowds had turned in for the night in their hotel rooms, so at this point, hopefully, he could just stare at the monitors and not worry about much. A few guests could be seen walking to their rooms, going up an elevator, or returning to their vehicles in the garage. One particular woman made her way down the ramp and turned the corner of a cement pillar, presumably to access her car and put away the bags of items she had gotten from the dealer's room. He had a desire to swing by that room sometime this weekend, not that he was into that kind of stuff. For his nieces. Yah, for them.
He glanced away to watch the main lobby, ever ready to see if any shoplifters were hitting the convenience store there again. His need to keep shifting his gaze caused him to miss seeing a pair of feet flail around near the bottom of the pillar before being dragged out of sight.
The woman was terrified, and rightly so. She had just started unlocking her vehicle with the key fob when something gripped her mouth shut. A sharp pain entered her lower back ribs near the kidney area, followed by a sweeping cold and paralyzing sensation. She was dragged down to the cold cement pavement, her feet feebly kicking. Someone with strong hands hooked under her armpits and pulled her back into the shadows of the alcove where her car was parked. A dark hooded figure hovered over her. All she could see were green eyes. They were dull, wavering. A whisper, harsh and yet soft, asked, "Are you in pain?" The woman couldn't speak. It was getting harder for her to breathe. She had a vague thought that her lung was probably collapsed. Her breathes were getting shorter and shorter. The assailant regarded her with those dull eyes, until it looked up at the woman's head. A gloved hand reached out, brushing some of the colored hair out of her face. The eyes flared bright green. The figure whispered in a grave tone, "Then perhaps you should be."
The woman did not know what to say. It was a conundrum she did not have to wrestle with long as her life fluids slowly pooled under her body and oblivion rushed in, taking away the pain, and everything else.