Tuesday, November 24, 2015

pony noir | part seven : thermodynamics

When I was a li’l philly, Science was my favorite subject. It all made sense, made me feel better. If you could do the math, if you could think it through, you could control it. It was yours. Who the hell needed magic? I had Celestia-be-damned science!

Almost became a research mare, actually. Until, I fell in with a… never you mind. That’s another story for another time, pony.

Anyway, what I was getting at:

The wind was teaching me a real hard damned lesson in thermodynamics. Heat exchange, ya know? See, everything wants to reach equilibrium. The fire and a cold kettle are trying to balance each other out, and in between it nets ya some tea.

Well I’m guessing the choppy waves was just a hair above freezing, the wind just as rough. There science was, trying reach an equilibrium between my warm body and the hard, cold open sea. All the while, the wind bit like a drunk bastard mule.

I was on a private yacht, freezing my flank. This told me a few things. The pony behind this scheme wasn’t very smart, and I shoulda dressed better.

I had the whoever-it-was dead to rights. The boat sure as manure wasn’t stolen so the owner of record for the E. S. Plentiful…

Assuming anypony believed the story of a two-bit detective from Foal Meadows with too many priors. All I had to do was survive the cold, the goons, whatever bad hoodoo was out there without getting arrested or stomped to death, and I was golden.

Sad to say, pretty sure I’ve been in tighter spots, but I musta been too drunk to remember.



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