[Fillydelphia] A change in the Winds. (closed)

[BeGoneThots]

Stromstride looked at the shop front. He and his daughter were moving. He had been reassigned. Fillydelphia of all places he had been sent to a big city. Lovely. His daughter would have to enroll in a school there. And the reason? He took his job too seriously. Shaking his head he turned toward CaramelCream. His daughter was upset, but held her chin up. What a trooper. 

 

Stormstride lead her to the train station. After boarding, he sighed as he whispered, "Go ahead and sleep sweety. it's a long train ride." His daughter nodded and leaned her face against his side. Watching her sleep was relaxing enough. But his mind drifted back to what had caused all this. 

 

 

~~~~~ Three Weeks Prior~~~~~

 

Stromstride stood in front of the school. He was royally angry. A break in during the night. Some basic textbooks were stolen. The stallion looked at the shattered window. Kicked in hard, the glass had easily given way. A few up turned desks and missing textbooks. The shop across the street had been hit too. A fruit store, all the oranges stolen. The guard on post that night had been off to the restroom. 

 

Stormstride yelled in his face loud enough to make the poor sod cower down. The berating leaving him rattled and too scared to return to his post until Stormstride had ordered him to just leave. Being the pony in charge of his shift, Stromstride took personal responsibility for everything in the area. He also took serious offense to the fact that some pony had decided it was a good idea to steal from the school. Given the break in, the teachers decided to cancel school for the day to allow the investigation to work unhindered. 

 

Stormstride was standing in his usual spot. Word got around fast, because several of the regular ponies on the block were purposefully avoiding him. He was seething with anger still when another guard came to relieve him. "Sir. It's time to rotate out." "Go away..." Stromstride muttered softly. "Sire... we have our orders. You have been on this corner for twelve hours already sir..." "GO AWAY! NOW!" Stormstride's yell was accompanied by a loud clap of thunder. Accidentally making the sound magically in his frustration. The other guard ran, heading for the other end of the block. He returned soon enough with a higher ranking officer. "Corporal... You are relieved. Go home." "No sir." "Corporal... Please do not be insubordinate. You can relax. There are extra guards on shift tonight. I already ordered one to stay in the school to ensure this does not happen again." "Is it the same stallion that left his post?" "Corporal Stromstride. I am giving you a direct order. Go. Home." 

 

Stormstride bit his tongue to keep from yelling back. He saluted and did a quick march back to his house. CaramelCream was already waiting. "Daddy! Look! My homework is all done!" Stormstride softened his expression. Looking over the homework slowly he smiled a little. "This is good work sweety. Why dont you help me get my armor off and then we can make dinner? Does that sound good? After dinner we can bake some cupcakes for your friends. School will be closed tomorrow too, so We can go to their houses and take them something sweet to eat." The filly just about danced as she squealed in delight. Rushing up to the stallion's room and calling for him to hurry so they could get started. 

 

After all the dishes were washed and Caramel was in bed asleep, Stormstride lay in bed awake. He stared at the ceiling, fully expecting at any second to hear glass breaking or an alarm be raised. He got up and glanced out his window. There was the guard, at his post. There were others close by. Stormstride nodded and lay back in bed. He tried to get some sleep. It was fitful, but he did manage to get a bit before his alarm clock went off. Getting up he headed to the stairs. As he walked down he felt a breeze. The front of the shop was broken into. The big picture window was busted out. Standing on the broken glass he saw what the thief had taken. The empty basket lay on the floor. And a few half eaten cupcakes beside it. Stormstride's temper flared. He snoted as he walked outside and yelled. "GUARDS!!!" two came rushing in. "I suppose that neither of you heard glass breaking last night?" The shook their heads. "Neither did I. This is no normal thief." A third guard came rushing up. "He got into the school again! Came through the back window! Stole a desk!! Right out the window!!"

[Blueblood]

This was not a district of town in which one would expect a pony like Wordsworth Psmith to be walking down the streets.  The upper class generally rode through in carriages without stopping, if they bothered to pass by at all.  But then, Psmith had a tendency to pop up in places where a dapper suit and monocle were scarcely ever seen.

 

And so, there he was, parading them both early in the morning down the bourgeois cobbles.  If anypony was out and about this early, they might have stopped and stared at the sight; a long-legged young unicorn proceeding with a graceful languor and an expectant smile at all about him, as if he expected at any moment some apparition to appear for his amusement.  For that is what he came to seek; he required the unusual as mental stimulation as part of a healthy psychological diet.  It was a theory of his that most of his class cohorts became socially insufferable though a kind of mental malnourishment, of which he was resolved not to fall victim!

 

He didn't run when he heard the commotion, as he didn't run for anypony, but his pace visibly quickened until he came upon the scene of broken glass and shouting guards.  Well, this should certainly prove interesting!  Psmith approached, his voice preceding his presence by about a paragraph or so.

 

"The cry goes 'round the castle walls, 'Thief, theif!'  Coltland Yard is summoned, their best officer on the case, but baffled.  What villainy is afoot in our fair city, and what valorous souls dare stand against it?  If justice is to prevail, one must bring the calm mind as well as the firey passion."  The young stallion had approached the group talking, apparently to nopony in particular, before fixing them with monocled gaze.  "Oh, I do beg your pardon, comrades.  Are you in, perhaps, need of assistance?"

[BeGoneThots]

Stromstride arched an eyeborw but nodded. "Yes. Corporal Stromstride, sir. Seems we have a thief in the district. You wouldn't hapoen to have seen anything have you? Or could you possibly know of any other places that were hit last night?"

The other two guards looked at Stormstride like he was joking. Unfortunately he saw the look. "WHY ARE YOU JUST STANDING THERE?! DO SOMETHING?!?" he bellowed at them. One about jumped out of his armor. The other rubbed at an ear. "Ease down Stormy.. I'm the same rank as you. We already sent for an investigator. We can call them over here when they finish processing the school."

"Daddy what's wrong?" Stormstride cringed as he turned. Caramelcream stood there just beyond the broken glass and half eaten cupcakes. She looked at all her hard work ruined. She bit her bottom lip as she sniffled. "The bad pony took our cupcakes...." she said softly. Stormstride walked to her and softly hugged her against him. "He wont do it again... I promise. Because I will find him and make sure." His eyes turned to the new pony. "What can you do to help sir?"

[moonshineTheleocat]

“Aw… Geeze….” The captain of the Fet-lochian REA branch mumbled. Her hoof was drowsily draped around her muzzle when a stallion had approached her with a folder of new orders. She had just gotten finished with training a class of new officers here in Fillydelphia. And here was a stallion, holding up a folder with a new assignment for her.

All she wanted to do was just go home now. She took the folder with a scowl, nearly scaring off the poor messenger when she read over the documents. After getting stuck with a class of pompous jerks whom think they’re all that, she was really cravin to just say “Buck the world” and go h- oh hello….

 

--

 

So perhaps going home would have to take a raincheck for now. The mare was now fully dressed in her officer’s Uniform as she paced down the street towards the scene of the crime. Her cap was tipped a ways to the front so the sigil of her Rank was easily read to the ponies whom had been staying near the scene.

They moved to stop her for only a second till they caught sight of that very same ensignia, then quickly backed away giving her a nod. She sniffed to them in return. Her sharp eyes leered over the crowd till she found the pony, or ponies she was looking for.

“So. Looks like ye transfer went through, and trouble came with it, eh Canvas butt?” She hummed. The last bit of her statement was added in with a bit of friendly fondness. “What happened here?”

 

Her gaze soon drifted down to Word Smith, looking him over for a moment. First her eyes fell on his flanks. And quite literally… the flanks. Her lips pursed, then soon went to a frown as she gave a small nod.

“Not bad… not bad at all…” the possibly perverted captain thought to herself before letting her gaze go to his mark. She examined it a moment longer and then looked back to the stallions face. Where had she seen this before?

 

“And… you! What’s your name, son?”

[Blueblood]

The corporal's outburst did not seem to impress the dapper noble, as he clicked his tongue at the display.  "Temper thy temper, Comrade Stormstride.  Such metal is has it's best mettle forged in the form of rapier wit, rather than in the shouting mace and chain, a weapon notable for being equally feared by allies and foes."  Wordsworth certainly lived his name, taking pleasure in juxtaposing punnish homonyms without batting an eye.  They would have been painful, save that he never stopped to milk them like most punsters, who lived for the laughs or groans provoked; he merely flowed over them like the little babbling brook in its stony bed.

 

"My great calling in life is its observance, in ritual and in fact.  Having only come here a few minutes ago on a whim, I have seen nothing that happened here at the time in question, but much in other times and other places that may prove relevant when seen in parallel or perpendicular.  But one can't do geometry without beginning with the axiomatic; what, asks the philosopher, are the things before us?  Make the statement first, and explorations of truth may follow."

 

How much longer this sort of thing would go on was anypony's guess.  Fortunately for the sanity of those involved, a figure less tolerant of nonsense entered the scene.  His attention was perked at once by the forcible entrance of the captain, and her familiar greeting.  He also sensed the gaze directed at himself, but by this time he recognized Star Breezer, and took in in stride.  "Comrade Stormstride, you are familiar with the Duchess?  Outside the chain of command, we induce.  How charming!"  He tipped his hat before introducing herself.  "I am Psmith, spelled P-S-M-I-T-H.  The P is silent; see also, pterodactyl, ptarmigam, et cetera.  Loving parents saddled me also with Wordsworth, but I would prefer you politely pass over the fact.  You may not recognize me; we last met before I was sent off to school.  I think it was at one of my father's exclusive annual parties... remind me, did we invite you the year he convinced his guests that one of them had murdered the butler, or the year he colluded with all the pet shops to stage an invasion by the mole-people?"

 

That would have been enough to remind her, and anyone connected with High Society in any way, that Wordsworth was the only son of Baron Psmith, who in most families would have been confined to the attic for fear that excesses against the public weal by a not-quite-certified madman would result.  He, however, having early come into the title, managed to find a wife who was willing to indulge his eccentricities, in the form of annual events that he staged to a very limited audience.  The family bestowed such invitations rarely, usually at the more traditional get-togethers hosted by Psmith's mother.  The limited attendance ensured that rumor was buzzing over the event for months, turning a potential embarrassment into a social coup.

 

Which pretty much answered why Psmith had turned up here.  Anyone growing up in that household might do anything.

[BeGoneThots]

Oh...one of these.. Stormstride let the thought cross his mind a moment before he greeted Star Breezer. "I never put in for any transfer. But as you can see..." he motioned to the shop front window of his home. "My daughter's finest work was taken by a theif...."

Turning to Wordsworth he spoke, but the accent snd tone changed drastically to what one would expect a scholar to speak. "When the metal of a stallion is doth tested sorely. When the king's castle is imperiled, one may find that even the lowliest vagabon becomes a warrior of great skill and cunning. For to each their own. To each warrior a weapon of skill. If words are to be the weapon of choice, then i shall weild but a greatsword. Using its weight and might to all but break the armor of shadow and cast lightupon my foes. For my castle was shattered. My foe has violated the sactuary of my princess. And the price shall be blood."

the other corporal snorted. "Lording your book smarts over us again. Come on Stormy. Speak normal." Stormstride nodded. Then his shoe clanged against his fellow corporal's helmet. "Get your flank moving and get the scene locked down! Get an investigator over here and for the love of Equestria do it before my daughter starts crying." the other officer rubbed his helmet. "Hoi!! No need to make me sore in the head. Private. Go get another investigator. And hurry." the private saluted and galloped off. Stormstride cracked his neck and then turned to Wordsworth and Breezer. "Well.. now whats this nonsense about a transfer? I never put in for one. I wont leave my post. You know that."

[moonshineTheleocat]

Starbreezer’s eyes fell on Psmith for a moment longer. Though her expression remained indifferent, she was mentally bucking herself in the teeth for checking out the son of that crazy baron. That would definitely make for an interesting story later. And knowing that fool, he’d likely take that as an interest and try to marry his son off to her, a mare that was old enough to be the very stallion’s dame.

Still she sighed and shook her head.

“Oh yes… twas both of those, and then some.” she groaned with a bit of annoyance. No matter how many bars she put out of business… she could never forget that buck. He was a bitter memory that’d always managed to be regurgitated into something fouler than the last batch.

 

“Shoot, ye father makes me son look sane, an he nearly got himself killed fifty or so times. Ye might not have known, but I typically have te show up stumbling buckered up on the bottle of whisk, before I even can think of showin up. Remember me son Voronoi? Ole fool mistook me own foal as the murder –weapon-. The proceeded to make a very creative example with him being a knife, shank, or doink… or something. The message was messy and Lucrative. Me husband had to drag me away before I tore his spine out, fashioned it to a cane and beat him with it.”

She cleared her throat after returning her gaze to Stormside… whom had broken off into some sort of tangent that could only match a Paladin in comparison. Her eyes narrowed. A Philosopher, and a monologue-er… just what she needed for an investigation to dish out justice.

 

What would that make her then? The hard case? The mare who shakes down, roughs up, and work over anypony who stands in her way? Yeah… that’d probably be it. Breakin a bottle on a pony is a bit more effective than good cop, sad cop. Or was it good cop, bad cop? If so… then she’s been doing it all wrong. All those years spent crying in front of convicts had paid off though. But it meant that her troops took the blunt force of her furry with no other place to vent.

 

“Rrrriiiiiight….” She began with a low groan. She inhaled sharply. The breath that was drawn through her teeth made a hissing noise in the process. “I believe I am the assigned investigator.” She started, ignoring the comment about her misjudging the information about a transfer. Guess the pony just lives in Fillydelphia, and his daughter commutes to Canterlot.

 

[Blueblood]

(OOC: Just to clarify; this RP is sort of a flashback to explain why Stormstride got transferred from Canterlot to Fillydelphia)

 

Trying as Psmith Sr. could be to live with, Wordsworth was quite fond of the old fellow, and in any case, family honor demanded a defense.  Clearing his throat with a cough, the unicorn reassured the shocked-looking guards after Star Breezer's diatribe, "In service of truth and justice, I should put forward that the butler was never, in fact, dead; and my father's dinner theater held no malicious intent.  Physical assaults aside, he was quite pleased to see that his chicanery had pulled the wool over the eyes of the professional."  He winked at the duchess behind his monocle.  "Of course, that does rather undercut the confidence one places in professional investigations in the current predicament, now that I come to think of it.  Fortunately, an amateur is ready to hoof, willing and able, too."

 

Psmith chuckled, doffing his hat in a sweeping gesture of acknowledgement to Corporal Stormstride's own flight of verbal fancy.  "Well said, comrade!  Never speak worse than you can; Equestria loses much by false modesty."  You hand to hand it to the noble, he certainly practiced what he preached!  No false modesty whatsoever was visible about his person, as regards his speaking skills.  Nor his investigative merits, as he breezed behind the cordon already being set up around the scene of the crime, for all the world as if he had every right to do so, and nopony else had any right to refuse him.  It was an attitude that came naturally to the aristocrat.

 

"Now, then, let us commence our perusal of the scene, lest the princess whose fine works were stolen be moved to tears by our delays!  Come my comrades all, let us begin at the beginning.  The first question is: what, precisely, was done?  Omit the name of the crime, only state precisely the actual things done, in detail.  This gives method to our beginning, and sets our thoughts in line."

[BeGoneThots]

((Ooc: this works perfectly actually!! Just wait and see!))

Stormstride turned toward the house. "Glass shattered, but no pony heard a noise. Same as the school. Means magic. No hoof prints in the grass or dirt. Means some pony either teleported or a pegasus flew in after the glass was broken. Food and school supplies were stolen. Two nights in a row. Means they are operating close by. As well they consumed an entire basket of fresh baked cupcakes. Cream filling. Meaning they are probably suffering from serious stomach ache right now."

The stallion moved inside. Looking at the glass he spoke. "shatter pattern isnt random. This glass was levitated down. it should be much smaller pieces. But the length of distance away from the window is astounding. Some of these pieces are nearly five or six feet away." he turned to the window frame. "No stress on the wood either. So no pony actually climbed in. No dust on the window display was disturbed either. No hoof prints. This is a pony or ponies with experience or skill."

He looked to the basket. How it lay on its side as if dropped haphazardly. "I must have startled them when my alarm clock went off. I wake with the sun, so most ponies are still asleep when these thieves made their escape."

[moonshineTheleocat]

Starbreezer rolled her eyes when P.Smith revealed the actual intent of the drama. It'd help if two things happened that night. If he at least told a few of the guests... and her son was not used as a knife, being piledrived headfirst repeatedly into a bowl of stew. A murder almost happened that night. And it would have been no where near as contrived or clean as what was supposedly done to the butler.

 

The mare dropped a hoof onto P.Smith's head, “You're being deputized son, Congratulations.” She began as she now allowed her horn to glow. A Camera soon puffed into air with a trail of smoke being left behind in it's wake. She floated it about, taking pictures of every little detail. Even some areas that didn't seem to be all that relevant. It's better to be safe than sorry. But to make her behavior with it a bit more odd, where it went, she didn't.

 

Once she finished, she floated the camera back and looked back to the insides of the house. Then back down to the ground. Her eyes scanned for the slightest displacement of grass, before turning to the shards.

She picked them up carefully in her field, and began to slowly piece them together. Her eyes scanning meticulously for any signs of poles. Areas where the most stress had been applied before it finally gave.

 

“Well, I'll admit your detective skills are impressive. I'm surprised you chose to become a guard rather than a Detective, or Private Eye Stormside...” The mare hummed softly.

 

“But since you are busy looking over every detail and admiring the work. I'm surprised you hadn't thought about something else...” She nickered as she finished up placing the last piece in the jigsaw puzzle of glass fragments.

 

“You can get large glass fragments. Glass is stronger than most ponies think. The trick is how you struck it. How thick is this glass anyways? Or is it multiple panes?”

[Blueblood]

Upon his being deputized, Psmith threw the captain an exaggerated full-body salute, coming up to stand on his hind legs.  "I shall strive to do honor to my elevated post."  Coming down with a gentle clop, he listened to Stormstride rattle off the list of facts known for certain, only pausing to interrupt once.

 

"Pardon me, comrade, and I only interrupt out of fear that an unchecked action may grow into a bad habit.  You only assume that the perpetrator consumed the all goods the goods himself, or indeed, that there was only one perpetrator to begin with.  And you know what they say about investigators that assume?  A racial epithet against donkeys, that's what.  And I shan't let you to lose your career over that!"

 

As the investigative trio approached the scene, the unicorn aristocrat removed the monocle from his eye, carefully wrapped it in a silk kerchief, and replaced it in his pocket.  Then, he drew out another, slightly larger lens, which once screwed into his right eye, magnified it enormously, giving Psmith a cyclopean look.  It was through this magnifying monocle that he carried out his own inspection of the glass and grass, remarking,

"The Psmith house has, for reasons too various to be worth recounting in detail, had to replace all of its windows at one time or another.  I may, therefore, posit a third factor to consider in the breakage pattern: the type of glass.  Tempered glass in under tension, and only breaks when a sharp, focused force is directed against it, but when it does shatter, it practically turns to powder.  It can withstand a tossed boulder otherwise.  Large shards denote untempered glass, which will shatter this way with blunter forces.  From the absence of any thrown object of the necessary dimension, I should say that not only was magic the tool, but the breaker knew exactly what proportion of force was needed to make a manageable number of shards, implying that he also knew what type of glass was being used."

[BeGoneThots]

Stormstride rubbed his brow with a hoof softly. Then his horn lit up and he began to prove his point. First by magically lifting one of the large fragments. The moment he let it go it shattered on the floor, very loudly. "This used to be a bakery and cake store. The glass was untempered shop glass. The kind that was meant to keep hoof prints off. Its easy to break but also easy to clean. As well the moment you step on it, it breaks apart. Look at the edges kf the glass. No stress marks. No determinable impaft point from the shards. None of it wad really stressed. It was cut."

He held up another piece magically. Using a short burst of energy to draw a line through thr glass. The two half came apart from each other without a sound. Asnhe set them down gently he spoke. "Again... no noise was herd. as for my assumption to them eating the cupcakes on scene..." he levitated one of the half eaten ones off the floor and slung it. Narrowing passing it between them. It hit the wall with a soft splat. "again.... this place was a bakery.... my former wife was a pastry and bread chef. I learned a good deal about what to look for in the event someone decided to pinch something."

He then turned at a short angry squeal from the kitchen. Rushing back there he found his daughter stamping her hooves. "The fridge is empty daddy!!! They took everything." Stormy sighed and sat his flank on the cool tile floor. "Its ok sweety. I can order more food. whats important is that you are safe..." guiding his daughter out he sat beside her. "You find them.... Before I Do...." he stressed the point to get it across. "I can be eloquaint, or normal... or as mean a brute as ever can be. You find them before i do if you want the courts to have a chance at them.." the anger was evident. Just barely controlled.

[moonshineTheleocat]

“You... must ov had some cheap glass hun,” The mare hummed. She was wondering just how in the name of tartarus this glass held together if a step just broke it. But... on the side note, there goes some evidence that could be used to help identify what they were dealing with.

The mare looked down to the same unicorn tampering with another shard of glass. And... once again. The mare sighed, restraining herself to voice out frustration. “Well... cut is a possibility storm-side...” The mare began as she lifted up the newly cut shard and examined it's edges

“But Ahm gonna have to ask ye ta stop buckin up the evidence. Ya makin this rougher than a night with me buck.”

 

The mare turned around, and blinked when she learned that the fridge was empty. The mare quickly moved a hoof up to her snout, doing her best to hold back a snicker. But... it failed miserably as she bursted into laughter.

“The fridge is empty?! Of all the cat-burglers I've seen, this one really takes the cake!”

She soon found herself rolling on the ground in hysteria. A hysteria that lasted for a couple of minutes, before she finally calmed down. Her roaring laughter dying away into a snicker fit.

“A-alright. This is an unusual robbery. Do ye have any-pony who's got a grudge on ye?”

[Blueblood]

Wordsworth had to admit, Stormstride had the advantage of him in experience.  As many windows as his father had broken, none of them had actually been deliberately cut.  Psmith Sr. wasn't the sort to have the patience for the task.  "A most interesting observation, Comrade; glass is easier to break than cut, which requires skill and investment into diamond-tipped tools.  From this, we may safely induce that our suspect is or aspires to be a professional- oh?"

 

Very few things in this world could get him to cut a monologue short, but the sudden entrance of another player to the stage of life was one of them.  The corporal's young filly, in this case.  From the previous conversation about his 'former wife,' the aristocrat knew that the guard was raising her alone, which was supported by his protective attitude.  It was key, therefore, that they put themselves on good term with her, particularly after Star Breezer demonstrated such a cavalier attitude towards the situation.

 

After giving a brief look of reproaching disapproval at the Duchess, Psmith turned towards Caramel and bowed.  "I do hope you will forgive our interruption and intrusion into your family manor, but duty most unfortunately calls.  Ah, but I do beg your pardon, we have not been introduced.  I am Wordsworth Psmith, but do call me Psmith; I will not insist upon formality between us."  His policy towards foals was, apparently, to treat them as if they were grown-ups, which probably came from the fact that from a baby, his mother would address him as 'young sir.'  Affectionately, of course, and it seemed to work well whenever he tried it for himself.

[BeGoneThots]

The filly gave a polite bow. But the upset look on her face remained. "Hello Sir Psmith. I am CaramelCream." In her presence, Stormstride calmed down considerably.

Thinking about the question asked to him he nodded. "Several. But they are mostly Young colts I caught skipping school. None of them would do this. As well most of them dont posess the spells or skill to do this. One adult, but it couldnt have been him. He was with several other guards on duty last night."

The stallion stood and turned to face a wall. The remains of some old artwork still adorning his flank. Shifting his stance he seemed to brace more weight on his back legs, which made the muscles ripple and bulge a bit as he reared up and pressed his front hooves on the wall softly. He tumped his head on the wall a few times. "The school was broken into in the same manner. Cut the windows, stole textbooks, a couple desks. Some teaching supplies but nothing seriously expensive..."

The stallion paused from bumping his face into the wall to speak. "Hey Captain.... you said a transfer was out through with my name on it.... what did you mean?" "She meant that I put it through." Stormstride glared, almost hatefully at the pony in the door. His own commanding officer. "That stunt yesterday was too far. Screaming down that stallion's throat. Then direct insubordination. You make that armor look bad. And i wont have you in my company any longer. I put in for you to be as far from me as you can ever get. And i hope it stays that way." The stallion in armor set a stack of papers on the counter before leaving. "You have three weeks of time before you ship out. Your new commander can assign you what they like. I wont be needing you to report for duty ever again either. Take the three weeks. Enjoy Yourself." the CO then turned on hoof and with his nose high enough to almost hit the top of the door frame he trotted out.

Stormstride's horn glowed faintly as a thought about hitting his CO in the flank with a fuull fledged lightning bolt. But he decided instead to let it go. Looking to his daughter he bent down. "Hey Sweety. Why dont you go slend the day with your friends? Daddy will get cleaned up around the house. Once i am done i will take you snd your friends to the pizza parlor. Sound good?" Being a foal she was bound to make up her own mind. "No. I wanna stay with you daddy."

[BeGoneThots]

((Did this die?))

[moonshineTheleocat]

((No I just forgot about it when I got busy. I'll be posting soon.))