Fill Them With Daylight: Concept Pilot 1

>Fresh out of the pile, you stick your finger in your mouth.
>The filly at our side looks on in horror.
>An actual filly, not the slang term.
>But the slang fits too.
>She did have a good set of uprights.
>For a pony.
>You relish her look of dread as you lick your finger clean.
“Yep. That’s salt.”
>”Anon, you shouldn’t do that! Even if you’re resistant-”
“Don’t blow your wig, I’m jake.”
>Flurry Heart’s fear turns to confusion.
>She never got the old-timey slang.
>That’s why you used it.
>Honestly, you didn’t need an excuse.
>Be Anonymous. Once a rural vet, you found yourself in pint-sized horseland. Great! You knew horses. Better than people, though you knew people who knew horses better than either. Unfortunately you’re the only person here. Just horses for miles around. These horses are occasionally made of rocks, so their anatomy’s all fucked; you wouldn’t hack it as a doctor and decided you weren’t going to try the minute you saw one of them go all see-through and sparkley. But you understood their body language so it’s hard for them to lie to you, and things were just close enough for you to apply some knowledge from back home.
>Not just from your profession, but from those old radio dramas you loved.
>You’ve become top gumshoe in the Crystal Empire off the back of that knowledge. The fact you were immune to the illegal drug of choice here helped. Wearing a trenchcoat over a three piece suit with a trilby on your head, you looked like a walking stereotype, and you loved every moment of it. You even got a pair of custom revolvers, six air-propelled tranq darts loaded in each, their payload another secret from back home you managed to get mixed up here. Daylight, you called it. It was the biggest heat you’ve ever packed, and you had some big ones back home.
>Thing is, the rulers’ daughter wanted to be in the Guard like her pa, and this apparently ain’t a man’s world, so she was attached to your investigations, become your protector of sorts, despite barely being of age. The broad could sense and manipulate emotions, at least, which was very helpful. She just had a habit of getting in your way while trying to protect you, though there was little that could hurt you. Most of the time she just counterspelled.
>She was also clobbered with you, thought you were the bee’s knees. You could tell that right off. It’s what made her protector complex adorable, like a chivalrous little boy saving an older woman, even if you could put ponies to sleep at a hundred paces. You were also resistant to her big blasts of fear to try to scare ponies off, because it didn’t take much to spook a horse in this world, and only gave you a sense of mild unease.
>That is to say, you were a hardboiled flatfoot.
“It’s the stuff we’re looking for, Flurry, but I have a feeling they’ll be back soon. Let’s drift.”
>The two of you make tracks out of the warehouse.
“That’s the third in this quarter. Quite the operation. And from what we’ve seen, they’ve enough torpedoes to make our lives difficult.”
>”Torpedoes?”
“Hired guns. Well, not guns, but you know what I mean. And considering even you can’t make ‘em talk, they have a lot of loyalty.”
>”Not just loyalty. With the amount of salt they can move, the ponies might be hooked. Anything for a fix.”
“Right. But we can’t let them feel in charge. Your parents are counting on us to shut this ring down so everything stays eggs in coffee. We either break their spirit, or we break their bodies.”
>”We’re not supposed to hurt other ponies!”
“Spirit it is. That’s gonna take more digging. Maybe we can find the butter and egg mare, hit the finances. Or at least get a more complete image of their organization, find a way to gum the works.”
>Flurry thought for a moment. “Dad was always suspicious of this big-money mare that appeared out of nowhere. Nobody knows how she got that money.”
“Keen. Good place to start.”
>You pat her on the head.
>Her eyes go all funny, looking at you.
>You shake the image from your mind and head off where she indicates. The two of you trudge off back into the rainy night.
>Perfect ambiance.