Tempest Poppins
by Present Perfect

Epilogue: Step i' Time on Your Face

The city: Baltimare. A more wretched hive of scum and villainy you'll only find long ago, in a galaxy far, far away.

Downtown, the streets are filled with traffic. Ponies walk the sidewalks, heads down, knowing better than to make eye contact with any of their neighbors, lest they invite trouble. The buildings around them rise into a sky mottled grey with smoke from dockside factories. The buildings, designed by famed architect Art Deco on one of his even more famous cocaine benders, reach for the clouds like grasping claws.

From the Red Admiral Theater, smack-dab in the middle of Fillydelphia Street, pours an unending stream of new ponies into this milieu, to the dismay of all and sundry. In the midst of this equine river is a little family: mother, father, son. Middle-class, wearing long coats, in a hurry.

The father herds them toward a cab, but a pony in a black business suit hops in, ignoring his protestations. In a heartbeat, the cab is gone. He swears under his breath and tries to hail another cab, but they dash by, heedless, even as he steps into the road.

His son holds a map of the city in his magic, nose buried within. As the family meanders down the sidewalk, he protests: they're going the wrong way. His father chastises him for making them look like tourists. This is exactly why they don't go downtown more often, the mother grouses. A streetwalker approaches them, and as the father hastily guides his oblivious son away, they move from the dim and gloomy streets to the dark and dangerous alleys.

The father insists he knows where they are.

The alley is sparsely populated; only shabby itinerants and pairs of shady ne'er-do-wells spend any amount of time there. The father refuses a vagrant who asks for just a couple of bits. Just a couple, dude. Are you deaf?

The vagrant sits back down on his pallet of refuse.

The father rounds the corner and is knocked cold with a sap.

Two stallions bare down on mother and son. She can only gape in mute horror as they brandish knives.

"Do the kid a favor," quips the one who hit her husband, pushing the knife toward her face. "Don't scream!"

He takes her purse. His associate riffles through the unconscious father's pockets. They flee together into the night.

She screams.

On a rooftop nearby, a black shape watches.

Later, on a different roof, the two crooks count their ill-gotten gains: a pouch with bits, the mare's pearl necklace, her purse.

"Hey, not bad!" crows the lead crook, holding up a plastic rectangle in his magic. "Equestrian Express card! Don't leave home without it." The other thug smirks, and they share a laugh.

It's short-lived.

"Hey, let's beat it, dude," says the weedier crook. "I don't like it up here."

"What are you, scared o' heights?"

The weedy crook shakes his head. "I dunno, man, after what happened to Chocolate Gob..."

His associate waves a knife casually at his face. "Hey look, dude, Chocolate Gob got ripped and took a walk off a roof, huh?" He shrugs. "No big loss."

"That ain't what I heard at all." The weedy stallion begins to shake. His voice dips low, as though what he is about to say might summon dark forces down upon them both.

"I heard that the Shadow got 'im."

The other crook snorts. "The Shadow? Aw, dude, gimme a break, will ya?"

"Five stories, straight down." His shaking intensifies. "There was no blood in the body!"

"No shit, it's all over the pavement."

Behind the thugs, a shape drops down into the mist. It wears a wide-brimmed hat and holds an umbrella. The crooks do not see it.

The nervous one stands. "I'm gettin' outta here, dude," he declares, having successfully rattled himself. The collar of his coat is snatched in the other's magic.

"Hey, shut up, dude, listen to me." He pulls his cowardly accomplice close. "There ain't. No. Shadow."

The second stallion licks his lips, unable to face the accusation in his associate's eyes. "Yeah, well, you shouldn'ta turned the knife on that kid, dude." His protestations are as shaky as he is. "You shouldn'ta turned the knife--"

"Hey!" The unicorn tosses his companion to the ground and holds up the bit purse, jingling it. "You want your cut of this money or not? Now shut up. Shut. Up!"

He shuts up.

There is a long, silent moment wherein the thugs collectively realize they are not alone. They look up. The shadowy figure stands over them. Her umbrella snaps open. The crooks scrabble at the rooftop gravel, breaking into a run.

The figure with the umbrella glides down to their level. They turn and launch their knives in a spray of magic; both hit home, and the figure staggers and falls over backward. The two stallions share a look, an unspoken hope that maybe, just maybe, they have killed the Shadow, though neither is willing to voice the idea. They inch backward.

The shadowed figure rises from the mist like a vampire from its coffin. It looses a blast of lightning at the skinny thug, tossing him through a nearby wooden service door. He is down for the count.

The other stallion makes a run for it, but is tripped up by the end of the umbrella. The parrot cane head squawks in satisfaction.

The stallion struggles as the umbrella drags him through the gravel, but to no avail. He is lifted to his hooves, moved to the edge of the roof, and held up by two powerful hooves as his back legs dangle over the pavement two stories below.

"Don't kill me, dude!" he shrieks, voice breaking. "Don't kill me!"

"I'm not going to kill you," growls the shadowy mare. "I want you to do me a favor." Her breathing is slow and steady, compared to his, which is shallow, fevered. "I want you to tell all your friends about me."

The command breaks the criminal's mind. All he can do is cry, "What are you?"

The mare yanks his face right up to her own.

She shouts, "I'm Tempest Poppins, y'all!"

"Is he cool?" the thug mumbles, fainting in Tempest's grip.

She headbutts him for good measure.

"Yeah," she says, letting him slide from her grasp to land in the dumpster below. "He's cool."

The End

Author's Notes:

And the silliness comes to an end. :D Thank you for reading.

I of course had to write this after finding out that Emily Blunt, voice of Tempest Shadow from the My Little Pony Movie, would be playing Mary Poppins in the upcoming movie. But that's not the only movie reference in this chapter! Points if you can spot both. (No, Star Wars doesn't count.)

I could not have done this without help from some very unfortunate wonderful people: kits, Shrink Laureate, Jake the Army Guy, OleGrayMane, Starlight Glimmer and Corejo. I am so grateful you were all willing to put up with my crap. :V Until next time!