Boss Jeryn of the Southern Hoof Syndicate was the living definition of “unpleasant.” His gray face was more of a sword-tip than a muzzle, complete with hardlined angular features, a frown that could cut glass, and all of that framed by straight-as-a-razor mane hair that hung on either side of his skull like damp black moss. He sat in his lofty balcony seat overlooking the circular Marine Auction House with a sighing slump. With a shrug of his bony shoulders, he adjusted a dark burgundy robe around his figure and muttered to the thugs standing behind him as an escort.
“Another morning, another day of bobbing for jellyfish,” he slurred. His voice joined the noisy vomit of the chamber as several hundred ponies gathered in attendance, conversing anxiously before the start of daily business. “I swear to Verlaxion's teats, it never changes.” He sniffed and glared down at the house speaker as the pony gathered his notes, preparing for the opening dialogue. “One of these days, they'll hoof the key to Shoggoth over to me and I'll show them how to run a good trade station.”
“All in good time, eh, Boss?” one of the personal bodyguards mused, bearing a hopeful smile. His voice reverberated off the looping ring of water floating pendulously above them and the rest of the audience. “The Syndicate's holding more shares in Shoggothian business than ever, and it's all thanks to you!”
“Don't brown nose so hard,” Jeryn droned. “I pay you well, don't I?”
“Well, when in the Muddredge City...”
“Not funny.” Jeryn rubbed his skull, sighed, and stared off at the crowd. “Look at these idiots. You think in a place surrounded by so many sharks, they'd get a clue.”
“How do you mean, Boss?”
“I mean nopony is ever ambitious enough. Over the past twenty years, they've stopped being saps and reverted to being sissies.” His hard jaw clenched even harder. “I've resorted to hiring seaponies to do our aquatic gruntwork, and you know how tedious it can be to even communicate with those googly-eyed buggers.”
“'Never fully trust a pony who makes babies on the outside,'” one thug said with a grin. “That's something Momma always taught me.”
“Good stallion,” Jeryn said.
“Why thank you, sir.”
“I meant your stupid mom.”
“Oh.”
“Seaponies aren't clever,” Jeryn said. “They're just trouts with manes. You'd think a race that stupid would be useful, but damn if that Siren Bitch Camellia isn't the one thing gluing their worthless brains together.”
One of the guards winced while the other hissed. “Shhhh!” He looked up at the scaled equines swimming in the levitating water above them. “Watch it, Boss—!”
“Watch what?” The hint of a smile washed across Jeryn's features. It more appropriately resembled a praying mantis choking on its own mandibles. “Camellia might have all the seaponies in her fins, but she can't flick a tail to so much as touch us.”
“But...” One guard hugged. “You know the rumors... about her getting into ponies' heads?”
“And if she ever got into mine, she'd have a lot of stinkin' ghosts to mess with.” Jeryn shook his head. “Nah, Camellia knows that her days are numbered, and she can't stop the Syndicate from taking over her little trading post. That's why she approves of the Council and this... stupid Daily Meeting Bullshit.” Jeryn stifled a belch and slouched in his chair, groaning. “She's laming it out... delaying the inevitable... hoping that this city and all of its meddling bureacracy will outlast mortals in charge like me and Revan. But that's her defeat right there, cuz the Syndicate won't end with guys like me. The only thing stronger than one flankhole with a lot of power is an even bigger flankhole.”
“Wow, Boss, I wish I had a philosophy that made nearly as much sense.”
“And that's why you work for me.” Jeryn smiled at him. “I do the thinking.” His nostrils flared. “And the monologuing.”
“Still, if Camellia backs out in our lifetime...” One thug rubbed his head hard, trying to choose his words carefully. “...and gives over the entirety of Shoggoth to the Syndicate... what about all the seaponies who live around us, blinkin', singin', and makin' lights n'stuff?”
“Yeah! We're living smack-dab in a whole school of 'em, y'know,” the other thug said.
Down below, the house speaker signaled another pony, and a loud bell was rung. The audience sat, directing all eyes toward the lower center of the circular chamber.
Jeryn leaned forward. As the House tapered into silence, he muttered through a crooked grin: “Well, boys, I suppose the Syndicate will make bold new steps in the seafood business.”
“Heheheh... good one, Boss.” One thug smiled, keeping his voice down as the meeting began. “Good thing to know we're so on top of things...”
“Shit shit shit shit shit shit!” Revan snarled, galloping faster and faster through the narrow corridors of the Southern Hoof's stronghold. The walls around him shook with the hoofsteps of over four dozen guards and thugs following close behind. “They were here! I just know they were there!” He panted, sweating, his eyes darting left and right across the dim manalight within the claustrophobic hallways. “That damn bard! I can practically smell his cruddy ol' hat!” He sniffed once... twice. “Like wet dog hair and hotel sheets, the marble-mouthed fudge-packer, I swear to Verlaxion...”
“Boss! Just calm down!” one stallion exclaimed, trailing after him. “For all we know, maybe they didn't even come here! Maybe they're still casing the joint outside!”
“Hey! You!” Revan scuffled to a stop, glaring down a nervously-blinking guard standing before a supply closet. “Did a griffon, a rainbow-mane'd mare, and a pegasus with a guitar case roll through here?”
“Yeah! Totally!” The guard nodded, pointing down the hall. “Remna took them towards the North Wing about twenty minutes ago!”
“Mega shit!” Revan's voice cracked.
“Uhm...” Cold Stone lingered a few steps behind, his horn glowing above a tense facial expression. “...boss?”
Revan twirled about. “What now?”
“Strong mana discharges...” The unicorn remarked, blinking. His muzzle hung open. “...about three signatures... located north... about a floor down and thirty degrees to the west.”
“How far away?”
“Forty... fifty meters, I'm guessing.”
Revan gawked at the other guards. “Just what in Verlaxion's sleet could be running on mana charges this deep in Jeryn's place?”
The guard before the supply closet looked up from his clipboard. “Hmmm? Oh!” He smiled pleasantly. “That's probably the oxygen tanks of the pressurized suits that we keep in our armory.” He gestured. “Up north, a little to the west, fifty meters away and one floor down.”
“FUUUUUUU—” Revan galloped at full speed. Cold Stone and the rest gasped, struggling to catch up.
Schlummmp!
Rainbow blinked at the self-sealing layers of her suit's neckline, specifically where it made air-tight contact with the bottom edge of her smooth, glossy helmet.
“Heh...” She giggled slightly. “Now that's a cool sound.”
“Dayum...” Bard fidgeted, still struggling to slide half of his suit up his thicker, more muscular frame. “They sure make these thangs tight, don't they?” His muzzle scrunched. “And what's with the color yellow? Are we supposed to be deep sea divers or honeybees?”
“Just pretend you're a underwater wasp.” Rainbow slapped her glass visor in place. “That'll explain the yellowjacket.” A pair of metal tanks situated on her sides glowed bright blue, channeling energy into a series of ventilators that slowly fed her oxygen. “Whew...” She shuddered all over, getting goosebumps. Her voice echoed hauntingly within the confines of her angular helmet. “It's like I'm wearing a reverse bouncy house... or something...”
Twilight Sparkle floated into view. “Rainbow, I just spent the last few minutes studying those tanks you're wearing.”
“Thank you, Science Officer Sparkle.”
“Rainbow, this is serious!” Twilight frowned. “From what I can tell, those things are only going to last you thirty... maybe forty minutes of underwater breathing. Fifty, tops, if you concentrate and pace your breathing carefully.”
“Well, good thing we aren't going out there to do the tango.”
“Darling, do take heed.” Rarity floated in. “I share in Twilight's concern.” The unicorn's eyes narrowed. “Have you ever done anything quite like this before?”
“Uhhhh...”
“Like...” Twilight gulped. “In all of your crazy, dangerous adventures?”
“Well...” Rainbow fidgeted in her outfit. She reached down and strapped her saddlebags over the outside of the tight yellow article. “This one time, me and the Jurists had to go polar bear diving into the super cold waters of a ship submerged inside a partially melted iceberg to rescue Props' uncle-but-not-uncle and a turtle-but-not-turtle... so... uhhh...” She smiled brightly. “No! Never! I mean, not really...”
Rarity and Twilight groaned.
“Now—dang it!” Rainbow gnashed her teeth. “Knock it off, girls, I'm serious! You know I can't face-hoof in this stupid thing.”
“Just promise us that you'll be careful, Rainbow,” Twilight insisted, eyes moist.
“For Pete's sake... I'll be fine,” Rainbow groaned. “I mean... how hard can it be?” She shrugged. “It'll be like flying east... only more bubbles.” She gulped. “...and barracudas.”
“Well, whatever happens, allow us to guide you through it all, Rainbow,” Rarity said.
“Rarity's right,” Twilight remarked with a nod. “It'll be very, very difficult to see out there. I'm talking next to zero visibility.”
“We may just be the edge you need to get to your destination.”
“Yeah...” Rainbow tilted her head down. Yaerfaerda's pink glow was nearly blinding. “Among other things.” Gulping, she looked up and said, “Look, if Camellia felt that this was impossible, she'd never have enlisted my help to begin with. Besides, I'm sure she'll be looking after me!”
“I would certainly hope so,” Twilight droned, folding her forelimbs. “Because, this far down here, Axan certainly can't.”
“Yeah, well...” Rainbow's voice dwindled, and she bit her lips.
“Wuh oh,” Bard uttered from behind.
“Huh?” Rainbow turned around. “'Wuh oh' what?”
Bard stood in front of Wildcard. The griffon was fully-suited, only there was one problem. Bard kept trying to close the visor to the mute mercenary's yellow helmet, but a razor sharp beak stood in the way. Plink! He tried shutting it again and again. Plink! Plink!
“Oh for crying out loud...” Rainbow grumbled. “Look around! Maybe these morons have a helmet for birdcats down here!”
“I had a cat once,” Remna droned from the sidelines. “Turns out they float to the surface if you toss them out the window.”
“Y'all shuddup!” Bard frowned. “I got this!” Clearing his throat, he turned towards Wildcard again. “Pivot yer head some, Dubya-Cee.”
Goggles rattling, Wildcard complied, twisting his feathery head to the right. Schlummmp! The visor finally shut completely, sealing the helmet tight. However, Wildcard couldn't face forward, due to his beak being pressed to the side. With a snarling expression, he raised his gloved talons and began gesturing wildly.
“Oh, stop yabberin' so loud,” Bard groaned, waving a hoof. “Just stay calm and follow me the whole time. Yer a rightie anyways.” He grabbed his own helmet, pivoted, and smiled at Rainbow Dash. “And that's how we get 'er done!”
“And what about your hat, Sherclop?”
Bard's pupils shrunk to the size of pinpricks. “... ... ...aw shiet.”
I literally cannot reread this line without laughing.
6341754
Seems like Camelia is just having fun mashing every button in his head.
No lucky hat -- they are boned. Bard is like AJ sans hat.
Revan seems unusually competent for a villain.
Lawrence Welk reference?
Better hide the hat well so Revan does not find it. If his fears are confirmed, there's no way he won't try to follow them underwater.
Ignoring the line about the drowned cat...
Jeryn's an ambitious bastard ain't he?
Rumors rumors, everywhere. They're like legends. They all hold a small grain of truth.
I hope Remna can still fight while under control like that.
I wonder if those suits have pockets. Like a built in saddlebag, if so Bard should be able to stow his hat.
-Memories given light, ease a lonely flight. Ynanhluutr.
Well, looks like Revan was right to rush to Southern Syndicate HQ, but too late, unless there area a few more suits to follow with.
And wow Jeryn, tempting fate much? Your making this to easy.
Bard, just use the loop on your hat, put it around the helmet and tighten it down on top of it, that way the Syndicate will know who to aim at. The diving suit inexplicably wearing a cowpony hat.
Hope Rainbow remembered to sabotage the suits she and her buddies are not using, or just toss them into the drink alongside her, that works to.
And now it's time for the final confrontation before we get Pinkie Pie back.
...I wonder if Rainbow has mantis shrimp powers that let her punch really fast in the water?
Jeryn's like if Denethor were a mob boss.
I guess Bard's going to have to swallow his pride until he has a chance to grab another hat from his hats and bostaves closet at home.
And don't even get me started on the seaponies union! Conducting contract negotiations through song gets old pretty quick.
*sigh* the bee joke.
6342216 I know! Can you Bee lieve him? I mean we're under the bea here but it's ok, he's just trying to get some buzz going in the comments.
Only thing worse than bee puns is bad bee puns, hope you enjoy
I like that guy.
6341853
Those spare oxygen tanks probably wouldn't go amiss, actually. So long as they could manage the additional weight.
6341876
You mean, like... 'sonic-rain-hoofy-kick-booms'?
That's funny, I don't see the Element of Loyalty hanging off Jeryn's neck...
6341754 Thus was born Grumpy Cat!
So I'm now wondering which will happen first the air running out or Revan somehow getting to them.
6342526 Because they would be all food?
6342384 YOU'RE GODDAMN RIGHT
Into the seafood buisiness? Im pretty sure all the sea ponies falling suddenly silent, causing instant loss of ultra high pressure restraining song magic, leads to extremely thin thug pony smears on the sea floor.
Easiest way to think of the effect, is to take the size of the bubble. Thats how far the water will come. It will be accelerating according to the depth pressure behnd it until it reaches the speed of sound. The problem is, the speed of sound in water is about 6 times higher than in air. Above about 120 mph, water behaves like concrete as the molecules momentarily lock into ice forms. Meaning you are looking at being hit by a bar of concrete the size of the bubble,traveling at Mach 6. And dont get me started on the plasma cavitation effects that cause sonoluminescence. Heres the really strange thing. steel starts to flow like a liquid above ten thousand bar, water just gets stronger.
Looks like time might be against them, after all, unless the oxygen tanks can be switched while under pressure, its half an hour for everyone, and due to the point out or quite possibly not, author has twilighted one of the goons so that noone can sneak round until they wait for the mana to run out and they only have a few minutes of breath holding left. Trouble is, is the same mana charge running the tanks, also running the suits stress field, against the water pressure at the dome depth, never mind deeper? No Mana, extra on the slimming?
6342299
My question! If he does indeed kill all of the seaponies, what happens to the enchantments keeping the place from flooding? It snot glass keeping water out in Shoggoth.
6342159 That's what lieutenants are for, Jeryn. I can kick back and relax while my underlings deal with the negotiations.
I only get directly involved when it's something big, or if we need a more masterful negotiator.
Being in charge does have its perks, after all.
6341789 Yes, I have quite a sharp intellect, you know.
Make it faster, Dashie! 50 metres is not far. That's only around 150-170 feet.
-Spirit (Yeast and Treacle)
6341789 Villains can be just as competent as heroes. Unfortunately.
I bet Bard's been working on a new bee-type dance
Yep, the airs gonna run out.
Actually, my head cannon is that Boss Revan follows them down there, and then steals their air tanks because his ran out or something.
Leaving them stranded in the machine world until Rainbow does her magicky Austreoh thing.
Out of everything that happened so far in this mega story, this is the one thing that make me cringe in horror. Holy shit, poor WC
6342790 The idea of jar filled with snot actually holding the city together is disturbing yet oddly intriguing.
Ooo tight fit... Not comfy...
Time to hurry and get out there! I swear, if Jeryn pops up right as they start to leave, I'm going to be disappointed. Things were going so well.
Going to have to leave the hat, hatpony.
My bubbles.
Dang Jeryn. I know seaponies are mighty fishy. But they taste better when eating them out, rather than cooking them.
Heck even Sushi Princess could probably teach a sword faced goblin like yourself a thing or two about love making. She looks flexible enough to make a soarosian look arthritic.
Noxious scalding, brethren.
I miss Friendship is Witchcraft...
Well damn.
Erm... He has... such a way with words...
evil smirk
Bard, take your hat off, ya dunce.