Hands in his duster pockets, he waits patiently as the elevator ascends to the top of the Las Pegasus research lab.

His thoughts restlessly shift across what Lippy told him, even if he already had plenty of time to do so as he rode the Whitetail train to the city of flashing lights. Now that he nears the top of the building, he tunes in to the task at hand.

He hopes giving the bright minds of the research lab a visit will grant insight on the shadow gang, also hoping he'll be able to get the collar off from around his neck. Though he's prepared to be disappointed. In the end, it doesn't bother him as much as it should. He's lived most of his life not using his Arch, and if push comes to shove, he's got what it takes to drive a stake in the heart of this syndicate without it. He's done it once, he'll rightfully do it again.

Still, he needs information, and that's exactly what he hopes to receive now that the elevator rings out his arrival. He removes his hands from his pockets and strides forward, glancing around to see absolutely no one.

No, wait, he does see someone at the far end where the microscope is, just behind the cubical wall. They're mostly hidden behind said wall, but from what he can see, it isn't a mare - taller and bigger-framed. His boots clack along the tile floor, garnering the attention of this Robe before he actually shows himself. Crimson stops in surprise at who it is.

With a gasp, "C-C-Crimson!?" the stallion stammers wildly.

"Magnifyin' Glass? Well, now. Didn't expect this."

"Oh-Wuh-- Y-Yes! My thoughts exactly! Long time no see! What are you doing in Las Pegasus? ... Is that a researcher cloak? I'm surprised pony clothes could fit a human so well. Are you finally looking to join the team?"

Crimson chuckles lightly, "Not in this lifetime. Just have it on while I do some errands fer a friend. Lightheart wouldn't be in today, would she?"

"Nope! It's Saturday, the researchers don't gather on Saturdays! Plus, she's out on a field op gathering materials for her next project - far in the east near Griffonstone. She won't be back for at least a week."

Crimson holds back his urge to groan displeasure. It's a good thing his expectations weren't high to begin with. "... Right. Maybe you can help me, then. With this," he grabs the neck of his robe and reveals the device underneath.

Magnifying doesn't get a particularly good look at what's being shown, but he assumes it must be, "A collar?" Crimson nods. "... I don't like where this is going."

With an agitated sigh he shakes his head, "Nothin' like that. I'm tryin' to get it off. It ain't no run-of-the-mill brace, it's a nullifier collar. Least, that's what I was told. Needs a special key." As Crimson speaks, Magnifying's eyes become broader and broader. "Wouldn't happen to know anythin' about this, would ya'?"

"Nullifier collar? Special key?" he freezes for a moment, afraid, but it changes to a trembly smirk as he shakes his head rapidly, "n-no, I've never heard of such a thing! Wh-nh... s-say, does the collar... prevent you from using magic? -- Or, well, in this case, your Arch?"

"Kinda."

His brows raise to his forehead and his pique brightens. "Really!?"

"T's why I need it off."

"If you can't find the key, could you... break it, maybe?"

"It fixes itself when it gets damaged."

"Ah! Ahahaha! Aha! Aha-- ahergh-herh... eeh..." His laughter turns to uncomfortable grunting as a fierce squint prods at him. "M-My apologies, I'm not sure what came over me there! I do wish I could have been of more use, but as I said, I've never heard of such a thing. W-Where did you even get it? Does it have something to do with this friend of yours that gave that robe?"

"Just some experiments gone wrong, long story that I'd rather not recant. Nevermind, don't worry about it, I'll figure somethin' out," he pulls the robe to cover everything up again. "So what's yer type doin' 'round these parts if you Robes don't congregate today?"

"Me?" he stops in his tracks. "Oh, I-I was... uuh... d-definitely not using Consortium property to investigate a personal matter! Ehehehehe..."

Crimson raises his left brow and crosses his arms. He glances at the microscope and sees a small puddle of clear-ish liquid on the tray.

"... P-Please don't tell anypony that I was here. Please. I-I'm here trying to figure out what's in my saliva that makes my breath smell so bad! Do you know how embarrassing it would be if the Consortium had me make a report on that?"

"Who told you yer breath smells bad? I certainly ain't whiffin' it."

"..." The bashful stallion rubs his left hoof up and down across the tile, "... M-Moonlight did."

A spear strikes his heart. "... She, uh... said yer breath smells?"

Magnifying swallows and nods timidly. "Not directly, mind you! She is way too kind to be so direct, but... I can tell from her reactions."

"... Heh. Good to see you two still pickin' it up. ... How's she doin' anyway?"

"Moonlight?" he repeats with a beam of glee. "She's doing great! I-It's been a while since I've seen her so happy!"

Crimson's gaze falls to the ground despondently, though he keeps up his simper. "Glad to hear it. ... The, uh... the heart attack didn't cause anythin' permanent, did it?"

"No, fortunately! The doctors said she'd make a full recovery after some therapy. Lo and behold, she did! She's been doing amazing ever since!" Magnifying's growing beam stagnates, then tones down to a lopsided grin. Concern is clearly written on the man's face. "... And before you ask, she isn't mad at you, Crimson."

His hazel eyes lift up with a gleam.

"We actually had a talk about you a while ago. It was mostly her being... upset. Venting. Lots of complaints."

Crimson cringes internally as Magnifying continues.

"... Most of it was getting things off her chest. Nothing you haven't heard, I bet. Things like: you don't take care of yourself, she can't handle the stress, she'll be alone forever, etcetera. Not that her anger is misplaced, but it became a little overbearing. I let her know that you care for her! Well, reminded her, more like. Despite it all, you're her friend, and she's your friend!"

"Yeah. Friend," he echoes to assure himself.

"Indeed! She was very upset at you after Celestia's decree. The first few days with it in effect were the hardest. But it only took a little time and reminding that everything you did was for her. Now she always has this little smile on her face!" He mimics it in a less than flattering fashion, though it gets the point across.

"You don't know how much I appreciate you stickin' up fer me, Magnifyin'. Hearin' this's makin' me feel loads better. Soothes that pit in my gut just a little."

"Hehey, it's no problem at all! It actually made me feel better too!"

"And, uh... speakin' of Celestia's decree. Anythin' on that?" The stallion frowns and turns away. "... Reckoned. Damn thing will never get lifted."

"I-I hate to say it, but... it doesn't seem like it will. At least, not in the near future. A-As I said, Moonlight is doing very well right now! Maybe a bit antsy since she hasn't had anything new to tackle in the last few weeks, but all in all, she's better than ever!"

"Hmh... glad to hear it."

"Indeed!" A brief silence passes between them, broken soon by Magnifying clearing his throat. "So... you came to Las Pegasus just to figure out how to get the collar off?"

"Yeah, but the only pony that'd might know ain't here. 'N you said she won't be back for nearly a week."

"T-That's a shame."

"A cryin' one. But it wasn't the only reason I came. I was lookin' for a little insight too."

"Hopefully I can help this time!"

"You 'n me both. ... How much you know about the Black Horseshoes?"

The scribe's brows crinkle his forehead. "I really hope you're not planning on doing what I think you're doing."

"Won't poke the bee's nest if I don't have to. Just need a little info, is all."

"... Looks like I'm of no use after all. Unfortunately, I don't know the first thing about them! I've spent my whole life in Canterlot, occasionally traveling to the other major cities. The world outside is foreign to me."

Under his robe, Crimson shoves his hands back into his duster pockets and looks out of the windows to the world outside. He eyes past the city's floating edge towards the south, down to the desert Slums below. Miles of ramshackle buildings and structures litter the brown-sanded land, and a dense fog surrounds its atmosphere like a dome. He won't wait until tomorrow to make a move, he wasted enough time coming to the city. Once he's done in Las Pegasus, he'll get a balloon down to ground level.

But that's after he's sated his curiosities.

"Got a question fer you."

"Third time's the charm!" the stallion replies with gusto.

"If you were to close yer eyes and picture me in yer head, what sticks out the most?"

"Oh, now, that's an interesting inquiry. Let's see..." the stallion shuts his eyelids together and focuses, "... tall. T-shirt. Backwards red hair. Scowling face."

"Use a single word to describe me."

"... Uuum..." he ponders for a second, "... red. Definitely red. Red hair, red shirt. Red. Yup! Red! Very fitting since it's in your name!"

Lippy was exactly right. That was also the word she used, even if Crimson didn't fully agree with it. "Appreciate the input. ... You can open yer eyes now."

The stallion blinks quickly, having forgotten that he had closed them in the first place. "Heh," he lowers his head and chuckles gingerly.

Another moment of silence breezes through the lab. Crimson stargazes out to the deserts of west Equestria, just past the slums. "What does Moonlight think of me?" he asks without looking over.

"... Um... what she thinks of you? In terms of...?"

"Generally."

"... W-Well, like I said, she was pretty upset at you for being negligent. She hasn't told me anything outside of that, except that she isn't upset anymore. If I'm being frank, you are a topic she seldom discusses, almost as if she'd forgotten about you. I couldn't be sure what she really thinks."

Crimson squints. "Forgive 'n forget, huh."

"In this case, it may be more than just a phrase."

"Can't hurt her if she don't think of me... smart." He flaps his arms a bit to feel the content in his inner duster pocket press against his chest, the small plushie that invokes his pathos.

"... I can tell there's a lot you need to say," Magnifying smiles trepidly, confidently admiring Crimson's expression since he isn't directly looking back at him. "I'd be more than willing to listen to your opinions if you'd want to share."

"Ain't to opine, just reminisce. I do that a lot. Do it too often."

"What's the old think tank bringing up?"

"Just... Moonlight. How we met. How I got 'er to come back to Canterlot. Still remember that field day we had."

"The one with the dragon?"

"The very one. ... Actually, looks like I do got an opinion I'd like to share with the class. Magnifying... since you've been frank with me, mind if I do the same?"

"Not at all! I'm all ears!"

"Celestia sent me 'n Moonlight to that farmin' village to scope out a magic anomaly. Sure you know all about that."

"I sure do! I was the second to read Moonlight's report after Celestia! I know all of the details regarding that field operation!"

"Then you might know that the town was already a crisp when Moonlight 'n I got there."

"That's what the report said, yes."

"... Ain't it a convenience that we got there a good bit after the village was totaled? Not a breathin' soul was left, just embers. Embers that seemed like they've been burnin' fer more than a few hours. Got me thinkin'... Celestia sent us out there even though she knew a dragon attacked. Hell, call me crazy, but I'm fixin' to believe there weren't no damn anomaly at all. Just a ploy to get us to face that lizard. Moonlight's little ANA thingy didn't squeal once. Not a thing was found in that town. What we did find was after the fact." He finally turns from the distant Slums towards Magnifying to gauge his reaction to what was said. Immediately, the stallion shoots his eyes away with a look of ingrained guilt. Crimson's brows furrow at seeing this quaint reaction.

The weighty gaze starts pressing Magnifying deeply. He purses his lips and ogles the tile just under Crimson. "Eh-Ehehehe... we're being frank right now, right?" Crimson sternly nods once. "Allow m-me to reciprocate! There is a... sensitive bit of information that I-I hope won't leave this room. Will it?"

"Everythin' that's spoken in this here lab won't be leavin' its walls."

The scribe visibly relaxes at hearing the sincerity of his promise. He takes in a broad breath and releases it just as slowly. "So, that field op. It... wasn't what you thought it was. Or, at least, what was told to you. It wasn't an operation to find traces of a magical anomaly. It was... an assessment. A test from Princess Celestia herself. As you already know, a talking human with enigmatic magics appearing out of thin air put a lot of ponies through a loop. The fact that this entity wound up with the Princess of Equestria's prized pupil was problematic, to say the least. There were too many variables to be had by our Consortium to safely have someone like you being this close to Moonlight. This next part wasn't detailed in her report, she verbally spoke of this to me... but do you recall when you first met Celestia? And she asked you to leave the throne room?"

"Yeah. To give her 'n Moonlight some personal time?"

"Precisely. Together, they spoke among many topics that Moonlight bothered not to elaborate with me. But the main affair of this 'personal time' was questions regarding you. To be expected, of course."

Crimson's brows line the top of his eyes as they fall to the ground, listening intently.

"More specifically, a plan to test you. See, the day after you met Celestia, the same day Moonlight had you retrieve her blueprint from the lab, the dragon you faced had just attacked Whitetail Wheat - the farming village you visited. Scouts quickly retrieved this information and reported it back to Her Highness."

"And she found it fit to throw me 'n Moonlight right into the jaws of that firebreathin' beast."

"... Yes."

Crimson sucks in a frustrated breath through his nose. "Why the hell would Celestia throw us under the bull like that?"

"Cor-Correction, it was YOU they... 'threw under the bull.' Equal parts Moonlight and Princess Celestia. T-They both agreed on this."

Crimson turns his face directly to the stallion, piercing him with angst. "... What do you mean?"

"Well, Moonlight she-- ... uh, uhm..." he turns away from the man's fiery stare, too intimidated to talk while facing him, "w-wasn't actually in-in any d-danger. Moonlight is-is-- she's one of the best spell casters w-we know! S-She might not look it, but her potential with magic is absurd! Moonlight, eheh," he points his hoof into the air to exaggerate his point, still keeping his eyes faced away, "is one of the few masters of translocation in this generation! A prototype spell that is soon to make it into magic academies all over Equestria!"

"Layman's terms, Magnifyin'."

"B-Basically, Moonlight has the ability to magically teleport herself from one place to another, up to fifty meters away! Probably further away now if she's been practicing!"

The stupor sets in.

Magnifying Glass shifts his orbs to the man's, seeing that he finally looked away. Confidently returning eyes his way again, the stallion chuckles stiffly, "I-Indeed. Moonlight and Celestia elaborated this scheme with all of this in mind. With everything Moonlight gathered in her time with you at Baltimare, she knew that you were quite powerful. A human who could lift five times their body weight? The suspicions of power magic? It was no debate both she and the Princess supposed that you would be a good addition to the Guard - which itself is another story entirely since you rejected joining them. Regardless, the table was set. A test to see if you proved worthy enough to be embraced into Equestria's society, given the record of humans. In reality, nopony ever expected you to kill the dragon. The assumption was that you'd escape and protect Moonlight while doing it. An evaluation of your litmus to see if you wouldn't run away or abandon her. In the event that you did try running away without her, or you were killed by the dragon... Moonlight was never truly in any harm. She would have simply translocated away to safety."

The words mesh in his brain. He can't believe it. He doesn't want to believe it. "... But... Moonlight..." he trails off briefly, moving to rest himself against the cubical wall, "... she ran away slow 'n... with her bags full'a books. Dragon almost got 'er."

Magnifying Glass quivers internally before uttering out, "... All an act. All apart of the test. To make Moonlight seem like she was unable to protect herself in order to have your reaction to danger unadulterated. This factor, her ability to reach safety in an instant, was the only reason this test was ever agreed to. Your own safety was... never considered. If I may, it was a silly plan to begin with. The fact that Celestia would only send ONE guard with a prized researcher into potential danger? The scheme was a little on the nose."

"... Ah can... hardly believe it..." Crimson grips his forehead, his pin-prick pupils trembling at the ground. "... I was used."

"I-I'm sorry, I didn't catch that." Magnifying Glass rears close since the man whispered between his lips.

"Played with like a toy," he speaks up, lifting his shuddering eyes with an atheistic smile. "Used up... now'm bein' thrown away. That what yer sayin'?"

"I-I... wouldn't take that stance entirely-- n-not that there isn't truth behind it! Besides, you two were able to find a magical artifact in the end! A-And! And! I-I'd like to think you and Moonlight really are friends!"

"Hyeah?" he grins a little wider. "What about Celestia? Her angel. That what I am to her?"

To this, Magnifying Glass only purses his lips and turns his face to the floor.

"... Heh. Heheh." Crimson brings his index finger and his thumb to his eyes, rubbing them with a good bit of pressure. A certain moistness coats his fingertips.

"Crimson, li-listen, I'm... sorry you had to hear all this. Pl-Please don't think of anyone involved differently now than you did when you first walked into the lab. It was all safety precautions. You understand."

"... Nah," the man removes his hand from his face and reveals his glistening eyes, still smiling depressively. "I'll fuckin' think about them differently. But I'll pretend I don't. If I ever see 'em again, I got a pair'a masks to veil it. Not like that's a problem, right? They've obviously got their own. Reckon you've got yours too. ... We all wear masks, right?"

Mouth agape, Magnifying has no response. Crimson's expression, one which paints a hollow muse, induces fidgeting discomfort.

"Like I promised you, Glassy-boy..." he turns around to give the scribe his back, "not a word will be leavin' these walls."

"... C-Crimson, I--"

The man ignores him and strides to the elevator, effectively ending the conversation. The deep moue on Magnifying Glass watches him step in and pull the lever. The doors of the lift close together at the middle to officiate his departure.

‎

---

‎

"This the place?" Crimson nonchalantly inquires.

"Yes, my angel," the Las Pegasus Royal Guard responds seriously while scanning eyes across the crowd of ponies looking to mob Crimson. "Worry not, we will temporarily bar clients from entering."

"Appreciate it." He looks up at the sign that illustrates the front of the shop. Among the loud and boisterous shopping district, the guards escorted him to a barber that Lippy keyed him in on. A human enthusiast, one who actually doesn't own any herself.

It's a rather modest building in the wave of over-decorated stores, only a few labels of text and a hanging sign to inform what kind of business this is. He walks to the silky curtains that act as the door, pushing them apart to be encompassed by the thick air of hair products and perfume.

As he walks in, both the three mares working on clients and the clients themselves stop what they are doing to ogle him. He glares at them back with disinterest. It's a fairly standard establishment with chairs to his left and right, four total - two on either side, after the unoccupied receptionist desk which is in the center of the shop. On the far end is a thick veil of silk which does not allow vision to the other side. Many paintings and showcases demonstrating potential hairstyles are littered about, both pony and human, along with potted plants and colored lights.

The human hairstyles give the man hints in why this barber was advocated by Lippy, but he feels that this isn't the whole reason why. He'll find out soon enough, he supposes.

Another quick shot to the products littered across both the front counter and the work stations of each barber detail tons of potential. Countless blades and razors, shampoos, conditioners, dyes, perfumes and colognes... and... a certain little purple spray bottle with an all-too familiar design, where each barber has their own sitting at their table.

"MOLLY!" "MOLLY!" "MOLLY!"

The three barber mares shout at the same time to Crimson's surprise, garnering his widened eyes. His brows furrow as the silk at the far end is parted to reveal a rather bombastic unicorn, one who shoots her pupils around to finally lock onto him. Her reaction is expectantly astonished. The man sees that her mane is combed in a queen-bee approach while the clothing she dons is every sort of color in the spectrum, pieced together with silk and string. Expensive, yet he finds the actual execution stupid looking. Her coat is a light teal, while her mane is a gradient ranging from a blonde orange at the top to pink at the bottom tips.

"Dear me," the exuberant mare with an accent murmurs. "The one and only in my own wax. Dear angel."

The man nods, "Crimson, if you will. Molly, I presume? Owner of this establishment?"

"In the flesh~"

"Great. Just lookin' for some service. Caught wind of this place and figured I'd drop by."

"Safe to assume you don't have an appointment?~"

"Hope that ain't a bother."

"We don't normally do walk-ins, but... I'll be more than happy to personally take your styling over yonder~"

"Beautiful gal like yerself ain't need worry 'bout me, more than willin' to wait in line."

She bats her eyelids with a discreet blush. "Well, now, you'd be doing me a disservice turning me down~"

"Oh dear, can't have that happenin', can we?"

With a giggle, she tilts her head to the silk which she came from. For once this elevated treatment will serve a purpose, the pieces of the puzzle are coming together. Now Crimson just needs to make sure he doesn't screw this up somehow.

He walks past the admiring gaze of the clients and floor workers to the heated gaze of the shop owner. He gives a quick glancing to the clients and the barbers... and grins at them before disappearing behind the silk.

The unicorn known as Molly uses her magic to open up the thick silk and usher his entrance. She follows just behind him and lets it close, sealing off their silhouettes to the world outside. Crimson gestures his hand to allow her to walk ahead, and well for it, Molly leads down the multi-colored light hallway towards a split end. Arriving at this t-split, he notes it to be a restroom to his left, a storage room to his right, and another silken doorframe to his front. This particular silk is semi-translucent, giving unclear forms and shapes on the other side. Judging from the formation of the room and its articles, it's a bedroom.

A sly glance into the storage room is all he needs to form his course of action.

The mare turns around and blinks her overly-tuned eyelashes at him. "So... Equestria's talk comes to my humble abode. A special occasion, I presume?"

"Nothin' outta the ordinary, just lookin' to get the ol' mop spruced up."

"Ho, is that it?" He nods once. "And here I thought I had my work cut out for me~"

"I like your confidence."

"Years of experience, honey~"

"Then," he takes a step closer, looming his height over her brazenly. "I reckon you've taken all kinds of requests. Maybe somethin' out from the uncanny valley?"

Her brows raise as her eyelids droop sultrily. "Certainly wouldn't be the first time. Should we take this matter... inside?~ The walls have eyes, they say," she tilts her head and coyly grins.

"That they do."

She begins to backpedal towards the room, swaying her hips in a very immodest fashion. Her chubby rear pushes apart the silk and it hides her once she crosses it, prompting Crimson to come in after her.

He observes this room. It comes off as an office-bedroom hybrid, where a clear desk area with intricate paperwork is found at the far left corner. The bed is located at the far center, and around it, all sorts of pony and human mannequin heads are scattered about to display potential styles. She certainly practices her art. The entire room dons a pink and light blue color scheme, with greens and purples scattered about in paintings and furnishings. The scent wafted from this room is very... lewd. Difficult to explain, but very bodily.

"Seen anything you like?~" the mare asks, motioning her arm at the mannequin heads about.

Crimson faints uncaring to the displayed styles. He lazily scans his eyes around to wind them up at Molly again. "All very nice, but... I think I like what I see here better."

"Hoo no, honey... you don't want any of this~"

"When I want somethin', everythin' else comes second. ... Though..."

"Mm?~" She quickly lifts her brows in lustful inquiry.

"... I'd much love to be presentable to a kind of the caliber, if you'd allow my type to put up a quick preparation. Ain't exactly fitting the scene, now am I?" he hints to his scruffed up backwards flowing hair.

"You certainly know how to make a mare feel special~"

"Only because you are. I saw that there storage room had a comb, reckon some gel too. Would you be so kind as to give me a minute to prepare?"

"Who am I to stop you?~"

"Hmh. I'll be sure to pay you in kind."

"Ohohoho, bits ain't what I'm after, honey." The fierce grin on her front twinkles. "Plenty of those in the Sin City... you help yourself and give me your best. And do come back with that silly ol' garb off, look like one of the Robes in the towers, you do. I'm dying to see what's underneath~"

He looks at the dark blue cloth that shrouds his clothes under. Facing her again the man returns a rather heated simper, "Tragedy if I disappoint." He paces backwards to the silk doorway. "You 'n yer lovely face give me a moment."

"All the time in the world~" Molly murmurs before giggling and moving to her bed. As the man leaves, she immediately begins fidgeting with her dress, making sure it's loose at the essential points on her body to allow a seamless naked-ing. Once satisfied, she climbs onto the bed and sets herself up for foreplay.

Immediately dropping the act, Crimson faces away from the bedroom and scowls, internally disgusted at himself. His neck snaps to the storage room...

... perfect.

He strides into the room, dimly lit by a window that has a blue silk drape over it, barely letting sunlight come through. He parts the silk from the middle to let more light shine onto the products that are housed around. He takes a step back and runs his eyes across the shelves of the walls to his front and back, gauging what would suit him best. Mostly for himself, not for the easy leg-spreader currently waiting for him.

He deeply hopes he won't have to go through with this charade all the way, but he's prepared to if push comes to shove. He needs what she has and will go through the rodeo to get it.

He finds it a shame he can't read or understand what a bottle or can is reading off to him, everything is written in Ponish, though he has the sense enough to infer depending on the pictures and colors demonstrated. He carefully analyzes each product, attracted to mostly the paste container of black coloration. He knows for a fact he'll be taking that.

As he glazes through the products to find another contender, a very specific design draws his attention. On the far right of the shelves, on the middle-most shelf, there is a uniform set of a dozen purple little spray bottles that are completely void of any text or picture. Staring at it immediately disgusts him.

... But an insane idea strikes fire.

He returns his glare to the black paste. He prays it is what he thinks it is and he takes it quickly, opening his robe to slip it inside his duster's inner pocket. He then takes one of the tranquilizer potion bottles and holds it carefully with both hands. He darts his eyes around him with a squint to review his coast... all clear. He aims the bottle towards the ceiling and holds it high.

He sucks in a deep breath, holds it, and sprays one, two, three, four, five, six times upwards before quickly setting the potion back down where it was and stepping out of the storage room. He melds his frantic escape into a confident stride, keeping his breath held until he steps back through the silk into Molly's bedroom. He discretely exhales and puts up a wry smile.

The mare appears rather confused at seeing his hair still styled the same way and the floppy robe still donned. "Oh? Find anythin' you like, hun?"

"Browsin', saw somethin' I fancied. Won't spoil it, wanna keep it a surprise, but... wanted to let you know the storage room was makin' a sort'a strong scent. Like spilled paint 'r somethin'."

"Paint...? Oh no, it better not be another cracked dye, I swear! Those damn postal ponies get more and more reckless." She rises from the bed with an angry pout and huffs, straightening her dress again. "Let me just check on this real quick, hun, I'll be just a second."

"Not a worry in the world, I'll be waitin'~'

Her upset purse lights for a suggestive smile at his charm. She excuses herself with a wink and slips past the silk, disappearing from sight.

...

"EACK!"

And thus ensues the coughing fit, followed after by a mass hitting the ground.

Again holding his breath, he walks quickly to the storage room and glances down the hall. None of the other stylists heard a thing. Pacing to the unconscious mare, he covers his mouth with his right hand and uses his left to grab her and throw her on his shoulder. He paces hastily back to the bedroom and rests her down on the bed. He releases his held breath and sighs.

... Now to make this more believable. He moves to make a nice mess of the bed, moving the sheets down and wrinkling them, lurching pillows and tossing a few off the side.

Giving attention to the mare herself, he proceeds to slip off her dress, or at least attempt to. It's problematic design makes it a hassle to get it off, but with enough resolve and minor stretching, he succeeds. He tosses it to the side and glances around the room for one more candidate to this scandalous deception.

Excellent.

He moves to the collection of roses near the desk and takes a few out from the pack. Bringing them back to the foot end of the bed, he begins plucking individual petals off of them and sets them down on the carpet so that when she rises from slumber, the first thing she'll see is a heart made of petals. If this doesn't trick her in believing she had a night of debauchery, nothing will. Though through experience, the tranquilizer will make her believe anything.

Satisfied with his presentation, he turns to take his leave. Coming across the silk into the main shop, eyes are again laid upon him by the deathly-curious barber mares. Seems like their clients are still present as well, the same ones from before. Crimson bounces his stare between them and pretends to adjust himself under the cloak. With a cheeky grin, he chuckles, "Don't let Molly know I said this, but she could do for more endurance."

Bloodpumping blushes form across the faces around. With the same confident grin, the man steps out of the shop and into the circle of guards that hold back the paparazzi.

"Satisfied with your shopping experience, my angel?" the guard that spoke to him before inquires as he faces the crowd angrily.

"Thoroughly. I'll be headin' out."

"Team, hot air balloons," he commands the guards around him. They acknowledge his order and stomp their pikes on the ground, commencing their uniform movement while crowd-controlling the wild ponies.

Musing and serious, Crimson travels across the bustling city under their protection. Eventually they reach the southern edge of Las Pegasus where the hot air balloons are amassed. He notes that he is lured to the same platform that he arrived in the first time as a member of the Royal Guard, somber and reminiscent to the experience. ... Almost seems like yesterday.

The current team guiding him salutes the guards posted at the balloons, to which they relinquish him to them. The team about-faces and marches off, leaving him in new care. These guards salute, with a taller, robust stallion walking to the front. "My angel," he honors, "departing Las Pegasus?"

"Yeah."

"Right this way," he turns around promptly and walks to the stationed balloon with its basket door already opened. Crimson follows him in, where he and another guard mare manning the engine are the only three aboard. The stallion glances at Crimson briefly before facing forward again. "Your attire is that of the Royal Researchers, my angel. It is interesting to see."

"Been gettin' a few looks because of it. Finished up some errands before I head back to the labs, hopefully get this thing off. Ain't really my style."

"I'd say it suits you," the mare manning the engine comments with a careless grin, which elicits a stern glare from her superior.

"It is good to see that you have become apart of an important organization, my angel. You are returning to Canterlot?" the stallion infers.

"Yup," the man indifferently assures. "Exhausted. Can't wait to lie down."

"I can only imagine. A man such as yourself must be incredibly busy."

"Like you wouldn't believe."

"If you see Captain Winter again, give her my greetings."

'Again'... hmh. "Name?"

"Captain Merit."

"Will do, Cap'n Merit."

He nods with a stern smile at his request being accepted. The guard mare raises the burn on the engine and the balloon lifts from the ground. The ride down to earth-level passes quietly. When the balloon touches the grass, Captain Merit moves to open the basket door and salutes, and the mare does as well.

"Much appreciated," Crimson thanks them both.

"Of course, my angel," the captain acknowledges. "Safe travels to Canterlot."

The man steps off the balloon and shoots his eyes to his left horizon. The Las Pegasus junction can be seen about a quarter of a mile away down a dirt path. He begins a slow pace towards it, and once he begins moving, the balloon roars behind him and ascends.

He continues his leisurely pace... until the balloon disappears up over the edge of the city. He immediately changes direction and kicks into a dash, his boots crunch the grass and dirt as he runs towards the border of trees that surround the station. He glares left and right while moving to make sure no one or nothing is watching him. He disappears into the forestry but keeps running, choosing to be safe instead of sorry.

Once he's deep enough and the humidity peaks, he halts with elevated breaths from his nose. He analyzes his environment with a squint.

Nothing. Deeper then.

With a brisk walk, he continues into the forestry. He knows there isn't much green left before the grass is replaced with sand, the only hope right now is that he'll find what he's looking for. Considering how humid it is in this particular density, there's bound to be one. Lippy even said so, especially this time of year.

He keeps walking, hoping his luck didn't run out. He stomps shrubs and leaves, moves tree limbs, wanders through the lush with squinted eyes. Still nothing. He knows he can't travel too far in one direction. He kicks the dirt several times to make a hole a few inches deep, leaving it as a point of reference before turning around and heading the opposite direction.

The familiarity around comes to an end at reaching an unexplored point. He pulls branches off and chucks them, kicks stray pebbles that rest near his steps. He notes a certain glow not far ahead, implying that the sun is reflecting off of something inside a clearing. He thinks he might have lucked out. Unable to see the floor of the clearing due to the forestry, he speeds to a jog to arrive sooner.

Satisfaction encompasses him. Leaping over a taller shrub, he lands into the clearing that holds a natural pond. He steps to its edge and squats down. He gazes at his reflection for a moment, admiring not himself, but how crisp and pure the water is. It's a shame he has to ruin it.

He throws another paranoid glance around him, making sure there aren't onlookers not around nor above him. All clear.

With a sigh, he moves his arms from under his robe to release the neck clip and free himself of it. Next he slips the poncho over his head and removes it as well, dropping it atop the robe. He moves for his inner duster pocket, taking out the black paste he stole and sets it down. He continues to remove his clothes until he has nothing but his pants and boots on, stacking it all safely away from the water.

He examines the paste. The picture printed on it is of a mare's head silhouette with a white mane which gradients into black, implying the dye's color.

He comes down onto his knees, uncaps the bottle, and removes the tin film that preserves it. Setting it all down at his side, he leans forward to stare at his reflection again for a few seconds.

With a deep inhale, he dunks his head into the water, getting it completely soaked. Emerging out, he keeps his eyes closed until he rubs them. The water is disturbed, his reflection is incomprehensible.

Keeping his head over the water to drip in peace, he reaches for the bottle and digs his fingers to scoop out a mass of black paste. Setting it back down, he rubs his hands together to spread it equally. Like rubbing shampoo in, he digs his fingers into his scalp.

‎

‎

He viciously rubs his fingers to get the black substance off. It's mostly removed, leaving only a few traces of black around his fingernails. He takes the robe from the pile of clothes and begins rubbing his forehead, ears, and neck, removing the same black stains. He tosses back the ruined robe carelessly and leans forward... he lets the water settle.

He gazes into his reflection again. It's perfect. And considering how damn difficult it was to get off his skin, he figures it'll stay this way for as long as he needs it.

He holds that his belated anonymity is still functional enough to keep him off the grid. With plenty of new faces to see, he reckons it'll be enough.

He shakes his head with a growing grin, staring at himself with a degree of descant. "Almost look like Vigil. Heh. ... Wouldn't mind if I borrowed yer name, big brother?" He almost expects the reflection to reply, something smart and snarky like his brother always would.

It doesn't. His grin slowly fades into his resting expression. He keeps staring at himself... for quite a while.

Next Chapter: New Skin Estimated time remaining: 15 Hours, 24 Minutes