01-13-2018, 07:26 PM
Late at night, with the majority of the patrons having left and the barkeep looking torn between bed and profit from the few remaining customers, the door swung open quietly. Carmelita, who’d been keeping herself awake by reading and filing paperwork on her eyepieces, glanced at the door to find that her lead had finally arrived.
Dressed in a light coat, and drenched in sweat, the pony trotted up to the bar and slammed down some coins onto the wooden surface.
“Two ciders and a salt lick.”
The barkeep nodded and began tapping one of the barrels lined up behind the bar. The first mug slid along the surface and was grabbed in the cleft of a foreleg, before being swiftly drained and slammed down on the surface. The second was cradled much more gingerly, the cube of salt being crunched beneath the ponies teeth as he stared at the wall.
Carmelita eyed him up. Black Hoof, assuming this was the same being that had been involved in the dead drop, was a mass of lithe muscle. His hooves were shod in dark grey felt boots, and the black shirt he had on had two grooves or pockets along his back. There were also strips of velcro, indicating that some other pieces of clothing were designed to be attached.
Once his drinks had been dunk and his salt cubes crunched, Black Hoof made his way to the door. Carmelita quietly pressed a thumb to her collar, and as soon as her cloak descended she trailed the pony outside.
She followed Black Hoof for almost half an hour, the pony glancing backwards as though expecting to catch a pursuer. After the fifth time, Black Hoof ducked into an alley, and Carmelita turned to follow.
As she did, she was met with an empty alley. The sound of a tile clattering down from the roof led her to glance up just in time to see Black Hoof disappear across the rooftops, blue tail flicking out of sight. Looking around, there was no way for her to climb up quickly enough to pursue. She’d lost him.
---
Chip frowned thoughtfully as Carmelita described what had happened.
++And you were thinking a grappling hook might be what you need? A mechanical version would be very heavy, even with monofilament wire and a proper magnetic latch.++
Carmelita sighed as she walked along the busy midday street.
“Well, it’s a shame that I don’t know any solutions to that. I mean, it’s not like either of us know how to magically remove the… weight… wait. Would magic be able to help with this?”
++I guess, but I know nothing about magic,++ Chip replied. ++And I’d be willing to bet Al doesn’t either.++
“Well then, I guess it’s up to me to find someone to help us. Talk later Chip.”
Carmelita closed the call and folded the eyepieces back into the earpieces, allowing her an unobstructed view of the streets around her. Blacksmiths, leather workers, bookshops, grocers stalls… what was she even looking for? A voodoo shop? A wizard tinker?
“No time like the present,” she muttered to herself as she set out through the city.
Dressed in a light coat, and drenched in sweat, the pony trotted up to the bar and slammed down some coins onto the wooden surface.
“Two ciders and a salt lick.”
The barkeep nodded and began tapping one of the barrels lined up behind the bar. The first mug slid along the surface and was grabbed in the cleft of a foreleg, before being swiftly drained and slammed down on the surface. The second was cradled much more gingerly, the cube of salt being crunched beneath the ponies teeth as he stared at the wall.
Carmelita eyed him up. Black Hoof, assuming this was the same being that had been involved in the dead drop, was a mass of lithe muscle. His hooves were shod in dark grey felt boots, and the black shirt he had on had two grooves or pockets along his back. There were also strips of velcro, indicating that some other pieces of clothing were designed to be attached.
Once his drinks had been dunk and his salt cubes crunched, Black Hoof made his way to the door. Carmelita quietly pressed a thumb to her collar, and as soon as her cloak descended she trailed the pony outside.
She followed Black Hoof for almost half an hour, the pony glancing backwards as though expecting to catch a pursuer. After the fifth time, Black Hoof ducked into an alley, and Carmelita turned to follow.
As she did, she was met with an empty alley. The sound of a tile clattering down from the roof led her to glance up just in time to see Black Hoof disappear across the rooftops, blue tail flicking out of sight. Looking around, there was no way for her to climb up quickly enough to pursue. She’d lost him.
---
Chip frowned thoughtfully as Carmelita described what had happened.
++And you were thinking a grappling hook might be what you need? A mechanical version would be very heavy, even with monofilament wire and a proper magnetic latch.++
Carmelita sighed as she walked along the busy midday street.
“Well, it’s a shame that I don’t know any solutions to that. I mean, it’s not like either of us know how to magically remove the… weight… wait. Would magic be able to help with this?”
++I guess, but I know nothing about magic,++ Chip replied. ++And I’d be willing to bet Al doesn’t either.++
“Well then, I guess it’s up to me to find someone to help us. Talk later Chip.”
Carmelita closed the call and folded the eyepieces back into the earpieces, allowing her an unobstructed view of the streets around her. Blacksmiths, leather workers, bookshops, grocers stalls… what was she even looking for? A voodoo shop? A wizard tinker?
“No time like the present,” she muttered to herself as she set out through the city.