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Ot · FiM Short Story ·
Organised by RogerDodger
Word limit 2000–8000
Show rules for this event
Overtime
Why was she doing this?

White Lightning yawned as the thought crossed her mind. The clock on the car’s dashboard told her that it was currently 2:27 in the morning, and the leaves blowing across the parking lot told her that it was cold.

She should be asleep now. Her shift was supposed to be over. Right now, White Lighting was meant to be snuggled up in bed and sound asleep, stomach full after a snack of milk and cereal and a microwaved dinner.

Instead she was crammed into the driver’s seat of her squad car, drinking coffee from a styrofoam cup and trying not to spill it on the paperwork in her lap. Why? Because overtime.

Wasn’t that a good enough reason? It wasn’t like she had anything else to do. Beside sleep. And be warm. And be happy. And do things she enjoyed…

But she needed the extra bits. White Lightning frowned as she replaced the coffee in the cup holder. There really wasn’t a way around it. She had to work more to earn more… although, she still hadn’t been paid for last month’s overtime.

‘Join the Marshal’s Office,’ they said. ‘It’ll be fun, they said.’ Well… fine, nopony said it’d be fun. White Lightning rubbed her eyes, fighting back another yawn. She tried to refocus on the papers in her lap. She was going to need a lot more coffee to pull through this shift.

In the passenger’s seat, her partner leaned back in the chair, rolling her neck. “Ugh,” she groaned. Midnight Strike smoothed out the papers in her lap, flipping a page on her clipboard. She shot White Lightning a mischievous grin. “Awfully quiet night, don’t you think?”

White Lightning narrowed her eyes. She was not in the mood to deal with her antics right now. “Don’t you say it.”

“I’m just saying, it’s a great night outside. A great, peaceful night, with not much going on, you know?”

White Lightning gripped her pen tighter, a scowl on her face. She couldn’t afford this, she was already behind on paperwork. “Shut up, Strike.”

Midnight Strike batted her eyes innocently. “Well I’m just saying, it’d be wonderful if…”

Lightning glared at her with the strength of a thousand suns. Unfortunately, Midnight wasn’t deterred.

“... something happened?”

She said it. The forbidden words. White Lightning held her breath, cursing the lieutenant that assigned this walking caution sign as her partner. Five seconds of silence passed. Then ten. Just as Lightning started to breathe again, her radio came to life.

“Legend five one?”

Midnight threw her head back and laughed. White Lightning groaned and rolled her eyes, praying that the next word she’d hear was ‘disregard.’

“Legend five one?”

Shooting another glare at her partner, White Lightning keyed up her radio. “Yeah, go for five one.”

“Legend five one, we have a domestic disturbance call, sixteen Fairview Drive. Caller said something about getting thrown out of the house and is yelling ‘he’s crazy.’ Respond code three.”

White Lightning cursed everything. Her luck, her job, her partner. But on the outside she sighed. “Copy, we’re en route.” She reached out and punched Midnight on the shoulder. “You’re a real piece of work, you know that?”

“I love you too, Whitey!”

The pegasus resisted the urge to slam her head into the steering wheel and instead flicked on the sirens. She pulled the car out of the lot and they took off down the street.




Sixteen Fairview Drive was a two story house cramped in between a vacant lot and another house. The paint was worn and chipping and one of the front windows was broken. Every single light on the street seemed to be on, and as they approached, White Lightning quickly figured out why.

There were seven or eight ponies in the street. They turned and pointed as the car approached, it’s light bar bathing the street in red and blue. “Oh great. This looks like fun,” White Lightning grumbled, her eyes scanning the crowd. She threw on the car’s spotlights and stepped out. “Dispatch, can you start rolling me additionals?”

“Copy. Any units in the area, respond code two.”

Almost before her hooves touched the gravel she was bombarded with voices.

“Right here deputy, he’s the one who started it!”

“Now don’t you listen to her!”

“Aw shut up Barnside! You don’t know a damned thing!”

If White Lightning didn’t have a headache before, she certainly had one now. “Alright, settle down!”

The crowd grew louder. White Lightning was beginning to question what made her become a deputy marshal in the first place.

“Hey! Listen, we’re going to find out what’s going on, but I need you all to calm down first,” Midnight declared.

“Listen deputy, Ah think this is all just one big misunderstandin’,” said a mustached earth pony, voice thick with a Dodge Junction accent.

“Misunderstanding? Misunderstanding?! Are you stupid?!” shouted another mare wearing glasses. “This ain’t no misunderstanding, it’s just Lucky being an idiot again!”

White Lightning wanted to be anywhere else right now. She didn’t care where. She just did not want to be here. “Okay! Calm down and we’ll take your statements individually!”

“Aw, buck off officer!” slurred a new voice. “You ain’t gonna do nothin’ here!” The drunk pony pointed a hoof accusingly at Lightning.

“Sir, please calm down, we’re here to help,” Midnight Strike cut in.

Yeah, things weren’t going well if Midnight had to be the more rational of the two. White Lightning shook her head and refocused on the situation. “Okay, who called 911?”

A purple mare cradling with a foal wrapped around her leg raised a hoof. “I did, ma’am.”

White Lightning jerked her head towards her patrol car. “Step over here for me, please.”

This wasn’t that bad, she thought to herself. Separate the crowd, get statements. When backup gets here have them take the rest. First things first, figure out what’s going on.

White Lightning took out her notebook, flipping it to a clean page. “Okay, ma’am. What’s going on?”

The mother shifted nervously on her hooves, the foal still clinging to her rear leg. “I don’t know, officer. I just got home and found Sawdust and Rusty yelling at each other again. Flint and I tried to seperate them, but then Lucky showed up and kicked everyone out.”

Whtie Lightning raised an eyebrow. “Okay, and is Lucky your husband?”

“No, Rusty is.” The mother began rubbing a foreleg. “I was so scared, I’ve never seen Lucky that upset before.”

“Okay what--” White Lightning paused as the mother rubbed her leg again. She noticed that there was a strange red stain on her foreleg. “What happened there?”

The mother looked down, confused. “I, uh, banged it.”

White Lightning set her notebook down on the hood of the car and took a closer look. “Ma’am you’ve been cut. Who did this?”

The mother’s eyes darted around frantically. “Nopony! Look, Lucky’s not a bad pony! He’s just having a hard time--”

She was cut off by yelling behind her. Midnight Strike’s notebook was on the floor, and the drunk pony was in her face.

“Sir! Sir! I need you to calm down!” Midnight was saying.

“No! Ah ain’t gonna calm down! You need to leave!” the drunk pony spat.

White Lightning frowned. “Stay here,” she told the mother before approaching the fray. “Sir! Back off!”

The drunk pony whirled around, his rancid breath hitting her in the face. “Whaddya want?”

“Sir, we’re here to help,” White Lightning said in her calmest voice.

“Now, Sawdust, calm down,” cut in the accented pony. “Ain’t no point in startin’ a fight here.”

The drunk pony muttered something but turned away.

Midnight Strike picked up her notebook and sighed. “Thanks. Now, where were we?”

White Lightning went back to the mother, eyeing the cut on her leg. Looked pretty deep, most likely a knife. Then she looked at the foal, who was watching the scene play out with wide, innocent eyes.

She considered her options. The drunk pony was incredibly agitated, but the accented pony seemed able to reign him in. Meanwhile, the mother was clearly injured and she’d have to call an ambulance. But the paramedics wouldn’t come until the scene was secured. Then, what about the foal? Call foal protective services? Leave it with one of the others? And what about this Lucky? Did he have any warrants?

First thing’s first, she reminded herself. Find out what’s going on. “Ma’am, which one of these ponies is Lucky?”

“Lucky’s still in the house,” the mother replied, eyes on the ground.

White Lightning frowned. So, she had an injured pony, and the most likely suspect was still inside. This was looking less fun by the second. “Okay. Let’s-”

“HEY!”

White Lightning whirled around to see a pony standing on the porch. “GET THE HELL OFF MY PROPERTY!” Her eyes widened when she saw the shotgun in his hooves.

Oh, hell. “Everypony down!”

There was screaming and yelling. There was a lot of running and a lot of moving. Suddenly, White Lightning wasn’t tired anymore. She drew her pistol and retreated, popping the door of her squad car open to use as cover. On the other side, Midnight Strike did the same.

“Gun, gun, gun!” shouted Lightning into her radio. “Code three that backup!”

“Copy. All units, all units, officer needs assistance…”

Midnight Strike glanced at her. “What’s the plan, Whitey?”

Up on the porch, the stallion was waving his shotgun around, screaming at them. The foal was screaming from somewhere behind them. The drunk pony was yelling something back.

Things had just gone from ‘buck this’ to ‘oh buck.’ The situation was rapidly spiraling out of control not unlike White Lightning’s own life. “Put the gun down!” Lightning shouted.

“Just leave me alone!” he shouted back.

Midnight Strike’s eyes widened as she looked across from them. Ponies living nearby had heard the noise and were wandering out into the street. “Get back!”

“Legend five one please advise, what is your situation?” asked the dispatcher.

“I’m gonna start shooting!” shouted the pony on the porch.

Lightning heard hoofsteps behind her. “Please! Don’t shoot him!” begged the mother.

“Lucky you damned idiot! Put the gun down!” shouted the accented pony.

“Everypony you need to get back now!” Midnight Strike shouted.

White Lightning’s eye twitched as she gripped her pistol tighter. Her headache was back with a vengeance and adrenaline was soaring through her veins. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Training. Remember your training.

First, she reached for her radio. “One suspect with a gun on the porch, multiple civilians in the area.”

Then, she turned to the mother. “Anyone else in the house?”

The mother shook her head.

Okay, that was good. If he fell back into the house they wouldn’t have to worry about hostages. White Lightning exhaled in relief as she heard sirens approaching. Two more squad cars came around the corner, parking behind them.

The deputies quickly took up position behind them, pushing the other occupants of the house back to safety.

“Cover me, I’m going less-lethal,” Lightning said. She holstered her pistol and popped the trunk of her squad car, pulling out a shotgun with a red stock.

“Look, we just want to figure out what’s going on, so put the gun down and let’s talk it out,” Midnight Strike was saying.

“No! You pigs always say that! But you never help! Never!” cried the stallion.

Lightning frowned, considering the scene before her. Shooting the stallion with the beanbag gun might just agitate him further.

“Look, Lucky. Listen to me, alright? I know that you’re not a bad pony, you’re just going through a rough time,” White Lightning said. “I know you’re upset, but I want to help you. What’s wrong?”

The shotgun wavered in Lucky’s hooves. “I… you wouldn’t understand!”

“I can’t understand unless you talk to me,” Lightning replied. She shot a nervous glance at Midnight Strike, who nodded reassuringly. “Just tell me what’s up.”

Lucky spat on the porch. “Why should I? I barely know you!”

“Well, alright. My name is White Lightning. I’ve been a deputy marshal for three years. What about you? What do you do for a living?”

The air was punctuated by the sounds of more sirens, indicating more units were arriving.

“Look, Lucky, do you really want to do this? Because I sure don’t. I don’t know what you did in the past, and right now I don’t care. You have a chance to make this right, Lucky. Do you want to throw that away?”

Lucky’s eyes flicked up and down the street. For the first time he seemed to notice the other ponies being ushered to safety. The ponies he lived with. Lucky looked around at the sea of red and blue lights in front of his home, then at the guns pointed at him.

After a minute, he tossed the shotgun aside. Tears fell from his eyes.

White Lightning and Midnight exhaled in relief. But they weren’t done yet. “Alright, good job Lucky. Do me a favor and turn around.”

The pony obeyed, turning his back to the deputies. There was rustling from behind Lightning as her reinforcements got ready to move.

“Now walk backwards slowly towards the sound of my voice.”

He did, his head low and his body shaking as he sobbed. The deputies advanced on him before placing him in hoofcuffs. Others went up to the porch and secured the shotgun.

And just like that, it was over. White Lightning lowered her gun and sighed, her adrenaline disappearing as fast as it came. She flinched as Midnight gave her a smack on the shoulder. “Way to go Whitey! That was awesome!”

She gave her partner a tired smile. The adrenaline had left exhaustion in its wake, and Lightning found herself missing her bed again. “Thanks. You weren’t half bad either.”

“Nah, that was all you, Whitey,” Midnight said with a wink.

White Lightning looked around. An ambulance had arrived, and paramedics were tending to the mother and foal as they hugged each other and cried. The street was fully shut down now, with curious neighbors poking their heads out into the street.

They weren’t done yet. They still had to take statements, compile evidence, and search the house. After that, White Lightning still had six hours to go until shift change. That thought made her cringe.

Then, she felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned around to see her sergeant behind her. “You good, Whitey?” he asked.

White Lightning nodded. “Yeah, sarge. Fine.”

The sergeant gave a knowing smile. “Right. You did some damned good work there. Keep it up.”

“Thanks, sarge.”

“You sure you’re fine?” asked the sergeant one more time.

White Lightning blinked. “Uh, tired, I guess.”

“Well, you’re the one that wanted OT,” joked the sergeant.

“Yeah. I guess I did. I’m getting paid for this, right?”




« Prev   10   Next »
#1 ·
· · >>Meridian_Prime
This is some good police drama, but it's suffering from "humans in funny suits" syndrome. Beyond names and species, this could all be taking place on Earth. Consider especially the line "White Lightning’s eye twitched as she gripped her pistol tighter," emphasis mine.

Don't get me wrong, it's a gripping read. It's just one with a very thin veneer of pony.
#2 ·
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This isn't a bad story, but like >>FanOfMostEverything said it doesn't really feel like a pony story. In fact I'll go a bit further than FoME and say that it doesn't feel like a pony story at all - the pony names feel slapped on at best.

It's a concise, tense and well-written snippet of cop drama, with a realistic feeling portrayal of talking down a potential shooter, in what I'd guess is rural America. In an original round this would be scoring highly for me. But I'm really not getting the ponies here.
#3 ·
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I really, really like the perspective work you do, here. You do an excellent job of making a very focused 3rd person perspective shine, especially in the first half of the confrontation where everything is chaotic and White Lightning is trying to figure out who's who. It was disorienting, but not confusing—it made me want to read more. In this kind of moment-to-moment pacing/story, making the reader feel the same things that the perspective character does really goes a long way towards narrative investment.

In terms of critiques, I'll just quickly note that I'm in the same camp as FOME and Meridian in regards to this not feeling like a pony story in the end. I'm not even sure how to picture ponies operating cars or holding guns.

I'm also just a little bit disappointed that we never really got to learn any solid details about the inciting event, after it was teased to us in the first half of the second scene. In that sense, the climax of talking a gun-tooting Lucky down from the edge felt a bit unrelated to the cut-through-the-chaos people management skills that were taking center stage just a few paragraphs before.

Still, there's quite a lot to like about this one, and I think that it was one of the best entries this round at giving me an uninterrupted reading experience. It feels polished and slick on an execution level, despite my conceptual complaints about the setting and resolution.

Thank you for entering!
#4 · 1
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I'll echo everyone:

In saying this is nicely written but severely lacking in anything Pony related. A simple suggestion would be to place it in the Equestria Girls universe and switch White Lightning out for Shining Armor--I seem to recall seeing him cast as a police officer in several EqG stories. But as it is, hooves holding guns and pegasi driving cars just don't mesh well with me.

Mike
#5 ·
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Put me in the same "not pony" category as everyone else. So instead of that, I want to talk about something else: message.

What am I supposed to take out of this story? Is it about Whitey? Because right now I feel bad for her, but you aren't placing her for me. She's broke, but do you want me to feel like this is suffering that she rises above? Do you want me to be angry at the injustice of unpaid/underpaid cops in general, with her representing their plight? Do you want me to think that she's made bad decisions in the past that have put her here, and see this episode as a/the moment that she rises above her history and starts moving forward?

Or is this a story about rural life? Should I be thinking about Lucky and how the way impoverished people in distant communities don't have the resources to get aid, and resort to drugs and violence in a vicious cycle? Should I be thinking about the nameless mother, and how non-urban domestic abuse victims often have nowhere to go? Is this a story where Whitey is a camera to show us the desperation of life in a region that feels it's been forgotten by the rest of the world?

Whatever it is, right now I'm not getting it. And as a result, this "just" feels like a generic cop drama, and not a meaningful episode. It's engaging generic cop drama, but what I'm saying is that if you give me an angle to approach this from, it'll resonate with me that much more strongly. But hey, you've already got the drama down; now it's just a matter of putting it to use!
#6 ·
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In which is an episode of CSI: Equestria.

Ot relates here in the form of overtime so I thought overtime would be the main theme here. And then that's thrown out of the window and I thought it wasn't really a thematic story and more about a story of Lucky and whatever he or his wife is hiding. And then that gets solved pretty quickly and overtime comes up again in the end. So, yes, it has a sort of loop going for it, a kind of don't-notice-you're-in-a-cycle sort of thing.

Beyond that, though? It didn't feel like a story; it felt more like a scene of something greater. I would like to know, for example, why White Lightning is down in the dumps in the first place, why she's in overtime to begin with. Or what's Midnight Strike's deal. Or the story behind Lucky and his family. Again, this is good if it were a scene, but since it is meant to be a standalone story, it doesn't meet the expectations of being said standalone story.

On the bright side, you write this action-packed piece well in terms of tone and pacing and characterization. You don't drag on for long about this or that detail, and White Lightning's internal monologue through the whole thing really settled her muddled past-midnight state of mind.

Overall, a good piece but sadly not good enough for the top. Still, it's a seed with multiple directions to grow towards. I'd be interested to see a longer story come out of this.