Csilla Pushes Her Luck

      You wake to the sound of the surf. The smell of melting butter fills the kitchen as you flip your Whole Wheat Sun Pancakes. The salty breeze cools your flanks on your morning run. You shake the sweat off your mane as the brilliant Altador sun fills the morning sky. Your white coat gleams in the dawn light.

      Something is happening. An Air Faerie glides down, forcing you to skid to a halt. “Did you know my name is pronounced "sell-ee-uh"?” she chirps, as if this were the most important news imaginable. You smile, and ask if she knows that your name is pronounced “cheel-lah.” The faerie claps her hands joyfully and darts away.

      You finish your run. After a quick shower, you wriggle into your star-spangled tabard and strap on your equipment. With a quick glance at the sun, you race out the door. The commissioner won’t be kept waiting.

      At the precinct, your fellow officers mill about, briefly relaxing before the morning meeting. The commissioner, a gruff Spotted Moehog with large tusks, hands out the day’s assignments. “Draynar. Voro. You’re on the Park District beat today. Try not to fall in the fountains this time.” A rare chuckling rolls through the room. The Moehog turns to you. “Csilla. You’re on Arena District. We’re shorthooved today, so check on the Bazaar if you have time.” You nod. “That’s it, men – and ladies,” he adds, glancing at you. “Everyone, be careful out there.”

      You pull yourself from your seat and join the crowd heading towards the exit. You overhear Voro muttering. “Don’t see why we get stuck with the sewer route while Chiller there gets the easy beat. Wish I could just flip my mane at the commish and get all the lucky breaks.” Draynar shushes him as you glance in their direction. You secure your nightstick to your harness and head west.

      As you leave the city centre, the Colosseum looms in the distance. Locals are already queuing in the street around the bakers’ kiosks. Your nostrils flare as you breathe in the scent of freshly baked loaves of Ionic and Altadorian Bread. You flick your tail with pleasure.

      Something is happening. A Blue Vandagyre squawks in protest as she is jostled from the queue. A Fire Skeith knocks more Neopets off their feet as she flails her arms and wings wildly. The crowd murmurs angrily. A Pirate Elephante pushes through the crowd, grabbing the Skeith’s wrists. Emboldened, several other Neopets grab at her wings and tail.

      You quickly intervene. Three sharp blasts from your Altador Referee Whistle pacify most of the bystanders. The others acquiesce as you brandish your nightstick and lower your golden alicorn in warning. You take control of the scene and begin questioning the Skeith, who remains visibly flustered and does not speak. You pause.

      Looking the Skeith straight in the eye, you rap your front hooves sharply on the ground twice. The Skeith’s eyes widen in recognition, and she begins gesticulating rapidly. The Elephante begins to step forward again but stops at your command. You return your gaze to the Skeith and slide your right hoof up to your forearm. The Skeith takes a deep breath and gestures more calmly.

      You ask the crowd to disperse. The nearby bakers helpfully herd the gawkers away with samples of Fig Muffins. You finish taking the Skeith’s statement and blow a series of staccato tweets on your whistle. Before long, a Blue Yooyu flies down. You attach a message to the Petpet’s carapace and send him flying back to precinct headquarters. Soon, an all-points bulletin will be couriered to the Altador peacekeepers alerting them that the Grundo Leader has been sighted in Altador and is stealing from tourists.

      A Strawberry Cybunny, unable to deny his curiosity, hops forward and asks how it is that you know Neopian Sign Language. You ask in reply how it is that he doesn’t. The Cybunny pauses, then nods, and then returns to his morning shopping. As he leaves, he offers, “It sure is lucky you knew what to do.”

      The Colosseum is quiet in the off-season, especially at noon when the Alabriss Chariot Racers break for lunch. As you patrol the entranceways, a mysterious figure beckons to you from the shadows. “Rozzer! You’re just in time. Unless you don’t have time. But everyone has time for punch and pie. Except that we don’t talk about the punch. Or about the pie. I mean, unless you want to talk about the pie, because we’re the Punch Club, not the Pie Club, or even the Punch and Pie Club. Even though maybe we should be, now that King Altador made these brilliant Commemorative Pie Plates for us. Anyhoo, how’s about some pie? It’s absolutely scrummy!”

      You follow the hospitable Grarrl to a set of picnic tables with a fine view of the colosseum arches. As an Elderly Bruce hands you a goblet, you notice the rainbow stripes of a young Ixi standing precariously on an upper archway, trying to reach a flying Vaeolus. Before you can react, the Ixi slips and falls. The Punch Club members gasp as the Ixi hits the ground, hard.

      You check for any falling stones, and order the stunned Punch Club to go get help. You race to the child and ask if he is okay. He stares at you with glassy eyes and murmurs inaudibly. His breathing is unusually rapid. You check his pulse and find it steady. At your request, a nearby Yellow Techo brings a picnic blanket. You carefully swaddle the Ixi, who begins to complain of thirst. The Grarrl rushes forward with punch, but you take the goblet from him and set it away from the child. You see the disbelief in the Grarrl’s eyes, and tell him that the first rule of treating shock victims is not to let them eat or drink. The Grarrl sadly returns the punch to the table. You continue to monitor the Ixi and keep him comfortable.

      Within minutes, a square-jawed, muscular Buzz from the Defenders of Neopia swoops in. After assessing the situation, he carefully lays the Ixi on a picnic table, and with superapian strength, flies the table and its precious cargo to the nearest hospital. As you go, you hear the kindly Bruce comment how long it’s been since she’s seen a Defender of Neopia in action. “Thank the stars for Sergeant Brexis! Who knows what might have happened without him?” The Grarrl heartily agrees: “That was a spawny outcome, for sure!”

      You travel north towards the Bazaar District. A passing Lenny snickers as you pass. “A cop, this close to the Dicing Tower? Must be time for a Doughnutfruit Break.” You cross your forearms and look pointedly at the Lenny. The Lenny ruffled his feathers, preened, and quickly walked off. “Sheesh, just my luck to run into a cop with no sense of humour. Silly Uni, probably too worried about her figure to eat Doughnutfruit anyway.”

      The shops in the commercial northern district are bustling in the warm late afternoon. Merchants give you welcoming smiles, and you spend an uneventful hour enjoying the sights and sounds of the city.

      Something is happening. A Jelly Blumaroo waves his Altador Travel Brochure and screams for help. “Stop! Thief! I swear, I didn’t give out my password!”

      You see two overgrown Petpetpets jumping away. You fly above the crowd and spot them escaping under the canopies of a set of booksellers’ stalls. Alighting, you accelerate from a trot to a gallop in your pursuit. The Bug Brothers dive around corners and knock merchandise to the ground to block your way, but you are too fast for them. You summon another courier Yooyu and detain them until two officers arrive to take the Brothers into custody. You see the victim approach your fellow officers. “Oh, thank Fyora!” you hear him exclaim, as they return his stolen Neopoints. “I can’t believe my luck! I thought my vacation was ruined!”

      Exhausted, you sit down on one of Altador’s many outdoor stairways and mop yourself with a Frizz Free Mane Cloth. People swarm past you, curious to see the cause of the commotion. A Woodland Xweetok, her daughter in tow, stops and stares at you disdainfully. “Sitting down on the job, grooming yourself? What kind of example are you setting for the children? I supposed I shouldn’t expect better of a Uni policewoman, and a Christmas Uni at that.” You tune out the rest of her comments about society’s ills and begin the trek back to the precinct.

      Something is happening.

      A low, grinding noise fills the air as the earth rocks and shakes violently beneath your hooves. After a few seconds, the noise and motion subside.

      You’ve experienced enough earthquakes to estimate the tremor at about 3.4 – fairly mild. You check your surroundings and see that the nearby citizens are shaken but unhurt, with no apparent property damage. You brace yourself for aftershocks, glance at nearby buildings to determine a safe route if any building should collapse, and resume walking. It is nearly the end of your shift, and you are anxious to return home and check for damage.

      Something is happening. A Fire Yooyu, used for emergency courier service, lands and hands you an urgent message: all available units to the Quarry. You adjust your tabard and turn east.

      You arrive at eventide; darkness is falling, but the setting sun still provides some light. You reach into your belt for your Battle Torch, not standard issue, but a gift from your mother in the Haunted Woods. As the minutes pass, it provides more and more of the available light.

      A group of children playing in the quarry appear to have minor injuries, but other officers are already providing triage. The incident commander is relieved to see you approach and directs you to the operations chief. The operations chief needs all the help she can get, especially help that can fly. She instructs you to do a search-and-rescue sweep of the northern face of the quarry and return in fifteen minutes.

      On an upper ledge, you see a Mutant Hissi apprehensively searching for something. He gives his name as Pystry, and tells you that he was taking some exercise with his Electric Alabriss when the earthquake hit and the panicked petpet fled. You shine your torch along the rock wall. The Alabriss could be hiding in any number of nooks and crannies.

      You instruct Pystry to stay where he is until you return. You fly back to the operations chief and relay your plan. The operations chief confers with logistics. She returns and hands you a Glass Dip Pen provided by the Quarry Jubjubs. You fly back to Pystry and rub the pen vigorously against your flank. Pystry’s four eyes light up as he realises what you are doing. While you light up sections of the rock with your torch, Pystry sweeps the electrically charged glass rod near the crevices. Your heart pounds as you see the pen twitch in Pystry’s outstretched wing like a dowsing rod. The electric charge of the rod tugs the rod towards the unseen Alabriss. Pystry calls to his petpet, reaches behind a perfectly flat slab, and cradles the rescued Alabriss in his wing. You escort ‘Pet and petpet back to safety.

      You see the incident commander approach Pystry with a smile. “You have a lucky star keeping watch over you today, son,” he says.

      Pystry looks over to you. “I certainly did,” he says. “She’s standing right over there.”

      Something is happening. An ominous looking Red Pteri strolls up to you and cackles, "I hope you didn't want to actually do anything in Neopia today." Your ears flinch involuntarily as his sharp *BRAAWWKK* pierces the air.

      You smile, shake your head back with a soft nicker, and head home.

      The End.