The Angel and the Knight

Seraph sat on a bench on a grassy knoll, spick and span and very well put together, as always. He patiently waited.

The unicorn on the grass served in stark contrast to the forest of smoke stacks and babbling assembly lines and factories that covered this district of Manehattan.

He sipped form a thermos of hot tea and ate a cucumber sandwich, enjoying the cloudy weather of the Big Apple, and taking in the scenic skyline of jagged edges and harsh lines.

His was a simple job. Connect with the local law enforcement, and assist in breaking up the innumerable black markets, the corruption within the MPD itself, the more than illegal practices of the rich robber barons of the high society. The issues were all quite connected, but to tackle them all at once would be folly. Now, although he was primarily undercover, he was given permission to use his authority to its fullest extent.

What that meant in a town with little to no respect for the law was of suspect to say the least.

But hopefully, the events of today would shed some light on the situation. Seraph noted that in the letter he recieved, it noted that he must do whatever necessary.

He felt the lump in his coat. It was a funny contraption, one that he was unused to. The revolver was light and simple, but he still didn't know a darn thing about the flipping thing.

Seraph took a deep breath and stretched after finishing his noonday lunch. He lounged on the bench some more, and waited.

Erika was not happy. Then again, it was rare that she was happy, and it was never in public. The public bored her. That was a mood-killer all on its own. No, she was not happy, not because she was out in public, but because she had been ordered to attempt to be... amicable. Shudder.

Her commander had implored her to bring a gun, even if it was just a revolver. She flat out refused, not liking the speed, complexity, and raw power of such a thing. She much rather preferred her knives and her bow. They were just so simple. So pure. So beautiful. Sleek, shined, and sharpened to cut from seemingly an inch away, sometimes her daggers and arrows were more well-kept than herself. It was a futile attempt, due to all of the pony parts they tended to get stuck in when her hoof slipped, but, if anything, those weapons were the thing that kept Erika sane. She had often been told that she was bordering on sociopathy, but she didn't care. If her mind was clear and sharp, who cared if she got a little sadistic? Certainly not her.

She refused to grumble, but an eye-roll was inevitable as she caught sight of her company. Of course, he didn't know she was to be joining him--it had been a last minute decision. She hadn't known why until that moment, and she could hardly suppress a groan. She was going to be stuck with a pansy for Faust knows how long.

This day couldn't get any worse. It was almost noon, and she hadn't had the chance to drag a criminal to the city dungeons. She, of all ponies, was going to spend the day with a white flower. And the handle on her left dagger was splintering.

Cracking her neck, she re-positioned the sheaths for her daggers so they were clearly visible and pulled off her helmet, approaching silently and holding it with her leg. The unicorn waited for the pony to notice that she wasn't just passing by.

Seraph noticed the guard and, suspecting her to be his contact, reached into his coat to pick out a small black notebook. levitated it in front of his glasses and squinted, flipping quickly through the pages. The stallion stopped at one and adjusted his spectacles.

Well, this one certainly had her track record of police brutality.

Seraph mentally noted just how open her two daggers were to the open eye. That was a... bold choice to make in such a crime ridden neighborhood, But then again, Seraph always held subtlety as a virtue to be followed. The next thing he noticed was her dark red eyes. Remarkably like another mare, one with a long and tenuous criminal record that he had a lunch engagement with later this week. He shook the thought from his head and returned his gaze to the page in his notebook.

"Ms..." he craned his neck forward slightly to get a better look at the page. "Ms. Darknight, I presume?"

He levitated the notebook back into his coat and turned to the guardspony, awaiting a response.

Erika gave the pony a disinterested look. However, she was a little miffed that he knew who she was, and even more so because the source was a piece of paper. They thought they knew her, these types of ponies. Track records, names, reports... the list went on. It wasn't necessarily her fault that she was a little violent for normal Equestrian life. Well, maybe some of it was. She didn't really want to think about the why.

"Erika, please," she said, attempting a normal smile. Concerned that it had come out too, well, evil, she relaxed the muscles in her face back into a line. Sure, that smile was nice for interrogations, but she had promised her superiors to attempt to be somewhat approachable, and she was trying. Sort of.

She followed his gaze to her daggers. Ah, yes. That might be a little off putting. She had misjudged the pony at first glance. She adjusted their position accordingly, to fit back in their normal place on the insides of her legs.

"Let us... discuss, was it?" she asked. "You're here to assist with problems that aren't ever going to be resolved within the next fifty years." She sighed. "Fine. Are you looking for privacy or casualness? You can't get both here."

"Erika, please," she said, attempting a normal smile.

Seraph winced noticeably, and attempted to turn it into a less rude smile. This one certainly matched the meager description given. Seraph certainly wasn't unfamiliar with the look, just... He never could get used to the more mentally 'upset' of society. He couldn't tell whether such an extreme case would prove problematic or, perhaps, beneficial.

"Let us... discuss, was it?" she asked. "You're here to assist with problems that aren't ever going to be resolved within the next fifty years." She sighed. "Fine. Are you looking for privacy or casualness? You can't get both here."

"Well, they certainly won't be resolved with that attitude." Seraph laughed good naturally. "And I do believe I would prefer an air of leisure over covertness, if you do not mind, Old Boy. Should we be working together, It would be in both of our best interests for honesty. Sit with me for a moment, would you kindly." He motioned to the empty space next to him.

His horn glowed a royal blue as he produced another notebook from another pocket in his coat. He repeated the procedure, flip through a few pages, stop, crane neck, adjust glasses.

"To be perfectly frank, I am well aware of the situation of the... fair city of Manehattan. I realize it may take some time to make little if any progress. There is so much red tape, bureaucracy, and rotten officials around this particular district that to even make one high profile arrest could take a week. A week we do not have. Luckily..." His hoof produced peculiar badge, one of a sun, with crossed wings and gothic lettering: 'Angeli Solis'. He continued

"I have ways of getting around that... nonsense that the typical beat guard such as you may not. I am aware, Ms. Darknight that you have quite history of... shall we call it unorthodox enforcement methods? I think that sounds much more pleasant, yes. Regardless, you know this city much more than I, and I am willing to look the other way should the situation call for it, as is my instructions."

Seraph lowered his glasses slightly, his icy blue eyes peering over the rims of his brown, round glasses. "Emphasis on 'should the situation call for it'. Do I make myself clear?"

Erika sat, not because she wanted to, but because she was trying. She was really trying this time. How long would it take for her to snap? She didn't want to put a number on it. Control, control, control....

"...typical beat guard such as you may not."

Typical beat guard my flank, she thought angrily, though, on the exterior, she remained as impassive as ever. What nerve you have to insult me like such. 빌어 먹을 놈... No, now I'm thinking in Colterean again. Control, Erika. Control.

She forced a smile. "As you wish. Should the situation call for it, I expect you to look the other way." Her smile vanished as she leaned closer, her eyes narrowing into crimson slits. "But hear me now. Do not expect me to bend to your will. I am no pawn. You will not stop me if I deem the situation to require action. You are correct in saying that I am experienced with the way of life, here in Manehatten. There's a reason I'm a guard and not a petty criminal, like... certain ponies." The image of her twin, her cape billowing in the wind as she disappeared, grinning like a foal who had gotten the whole cookie jar instead of the whole case of bits. She scowled. "Understand?"

She relaxed her pose and leaned back a little, observing her companion.

"And what do you prefer to go by?" she asked, realizing she had never caught a name. Sure, she had a name on a slip of paper, but... it was long and supercilious for a pony like him. There was no way he went by "Ambriel Principatus."

"But hear me now. Do not expect me to bend to your will. I am no pawn. You will not stop me if I deem the situation to require action. You are correct in saying that I am experienced with the way of life, here in Manehatten. There's a reason I'm a guard and not a petty criminal, like... certain ponies. Understand."

Seraph waited patiently for her to finish. Although she did cut an imposing figure, and was at least couple hands taller than the prim and proper stallion, but that didn't seem to bother him in the slightest. His cold, blue eyes continued to stare, unperturbed.

"I do hope you did not misconstrue what I said, Old Boy. I never claimed you were my pawn, and I most certainly don't expect you to bend to anypony's will." He frowned slightly, almost sympathetically.

"I am merely setting expectations. While I am certain that your maverick ways must serve you quite well under certain circumstances, I am telling you that there most certainly will be times that such tactics won't be needed. And while I am technically your superior, we are both equals in this task" He closed his eyes and nodded slowly.

"That being said, I should like to think we will be working together, as opposed to in conflict with one another. We simply cannot do that if we both don't make compromises." He steepled his hooves together, shifting his weight, leaning forward to stare at the landscape of the Industrial District.

"And what do you prefer to go by?"

"Ah. How rude of me! I usually go by the moniker Seraph, if you prefer." He smiled and extended a hoof in greeting.

Erika mused over his statements. Finally, she shook his hoof, releasing it promptly and settling back into her relaxed pose.

"Then we are at an agreement, Seraph," she promised. "You may have heard that I have violent tendencies. Do not think that it is my natural way of doing things. I've brought in many a criminal with nary a scratch. My track record says nothing of these cases, so what would you know? I will not act unless it is necessary. I... will try to heed your words, but, sometimes, you must trust my judgement. Very well."

Aside from the frightening demeanor and startling shade of crimson that was her eyes, Erika was rather pretty. She despised stallions who looked and went gaga... at least, until she turned her gaze upon them. A clean, white coat, dark, long hair, and a wickedly fit body tended to do that. Somepony once told her it was her eyes that did it, not because they were frightening, but because of the shape. She didn't listen. She didn't particularly care.

However, it had once or twice proven a fantastic offensive weapon. She hadn't considered it before, but she realized that, with control over her emotions and desires, she just might have to use it again.

Troubled by the thought, she turned her attention back to Seraph.

"It's your call. Where would you like to start?"

"Then we are at an agreement, Seraph," she promised. "You may have heard that I have violent tendencies. Do not think that it is my natural way of doing things. I've brought in many a criminal with nary a scratch. My track record says nothing of these cases, so what would you know? I will not act unless it is necessary. I... will try to heed your words, but, sometimes, you must trust my judgement. Very well."

"I believe that what many commanding officers realize is that they only have as much power as the commanded give them." Seraph's pleasant smile widened as Erika took his hoof. As much as the mare had a fearsome reputation, he was very pleased to discover that she was at the very least, reasonable. Much like another mare that he knew... Seraph wistfully wondered what his friend was doing now.

He was every bit a Trottingham pony. From his tweed ensemble to his [faux] leather elbow patches to his studious glasses and messy curly blonde hair all screamed a studious air. This naturally let him fit right in with the Canterlot Elite that he normally found himself acquainted with. But there was something else, a very gay air (both the literal and colloquial meanings of the word) hung about him, a sort of brightness that, while some found it quite charming, others couldn't help but dislike his always polite demeanor.

"It's your call. Where would you like to start?"

"Ah yes, back to the business at hand." Seraph rubbed his hooves together as he magicked up yet another notepad, identical in every aspect except in color. he produced a small pencil "So, it seems that there are three major problems to deal with..." He took a moment to sketch three circles, labeling them as he said them aloud. "Police corruption... mhm... the Black Market... and... Upper class..." He tapped the pencil on his incisors for a moment in thought. "I don't even really know what to call it... unsafe working practices? Hmm... one of the main difficulties with the issue being nopony can even name the thing..." He mused, settling for writing what the press labeled them as: 'robber barons.'

"I don't believe these 'robber barons' will be taken under control in one night, neither will the police corruption." He explained as he drew a few lines connecting the figures and scribbled a few notes in a indecipherable shorthand, crossing out a few lines and connecting others into another. Before long there was a intricate, complex series of lines and scribbles over the paper. "Hmm... I believe the organized crime should be the first to handle on our agenda."

Erika begrudgingly nodded a little. He certainly had his priorities straight, carving a clear path ahead. She cracked her neck and slid her helmet over her head, smiling a little at the feeling of the cool metal over her face. It was a very Nightmare-Moon-esque model, designed to invoke fear and compliance. It wasn't her design nor her choice, seeing how it was a little fancy for her tastes, but she appreciated the fact that it protected her head as well as any helmet; maybe even better.

"Do you have a plan, Seraph?" she asked, raising an eyebrow, "or would you just like to march into battle? I jest. Truly. That would be stupid. I assume you have a scheme of some sort worked out. You seem like the type of pony who would. Yes..."

Her mind raced as she imagined various, violent, and bloody ways to dismantle a criminal network that could never be. It was worth it to imagine the pain and suffering her dream self would cause, for, unlike a normal pony would think, it calmed her down, lessened the red at the edges of her vision, and sent her into a very peaceful mode.

She maneuvered the gold amulet at her throat between her hooves, thinking to herself further. She brought herself back to reality and read the inscription upon the amulet, tasting the words on her tongue. A sense of self was what it brought, not pride or selfishness. Self, in the simplest form, was all it was. Sapphire.

"We don't have all day," she muttered.

"Do you have a plan, Seraph?" she asked, raising an eyebrow, "or would you just like to march into battle?"

For a moment, Seraph gave Erika a look of confusion. "Are you..."

"I jest. Truly. That would be stupid. I assume you have a scheme of some sort worked out. You seem like the type of pony who would. Yes..."

Despite the dubious subtext of her statement, Seraph smiled and went back "Ah yes! Well... I have a general plan, but the execution of it would be... Well I don't rightly know just how it would happen, but thats why we are here." He chuckled to himself.

He flipped to a fresh page on his notebook and tapped his pencil on his front teeth. "I envision a sort of ruse. When it comes to the criminal underground, one simply can't work by conventional by-the-book methods. We need to dismantle them within, make them implode in on themselves." He returned back to furious scribbling, practically illegible. "If there was a way to incite a gangwar between significant crime families, it would significantly weaken them as a whole. Hopefully, it could also give some ground to go after and apprehend some key players. Its easy to charge mob bosses with attempted murder when they are actively trying to shoot one another."

He stopped and frowned. "The question being, how best to start all this? I should like to think a orchestrated, framed hit would flare up aggressions marvelously, but would that be enough?"

Sticking a hoof in the air hesitantly, Seraph pointed to Erika. "You... Wouldn't happen to know what the local families have been up to? Any particularly strenuous relations? I would like to get started as soon as equinely possible..." His frown deepened.

"But I cannot do anything without a good feel for the situation at hoof..."