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Ministry of Image - Fanfiction Printing

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Description

The Mortal Paper Fist said:
Do they know if Flaxen’s manager lives in Fillydelphia? Maybe we should pay him a visit, too? He sounds like someone who
cares about the well-being of his stars and could have more information for us.
In any case, bid them farewell and promise that we’ll do everything in our power to make sure that Dirt Flaxen is safe.
Also ask our friends if any of them just so happens to speak the Kirin language? […]
As you come to realize that Dirt Flaxen’s manager may not be as difficult as you might have imagined, you decide to ask the trio if they happen to know where you can find him.
Sound Theory: “Uh, Manehattan, I’m guessing?”
Silver Beat: “Yeah, sounds about right.”
Roller Scratch: “It’s a safe bet; that’s where the company’s studios are. If he isn’t out on a business trip, that is.”
You nod — that was to be expected, of course, but you had to make sure. Either way, you conclude by thanking the band for their time, and bidding them farewell with the promise that you will do everything you can to act in Dirt Flaxen’s best interests.
Roller Scratch: “Hey, we appreciate it.”
Silver Beat: “Yeah, man. Let us know how it goes.”
Sound Theory: “We’ll see you around.”
You leave the park with a clearer picture of the pony you are looking for in mind. Yet, despite everything you’ve learned, the mystery around his disappearance only seems to deepen.
Honourshine: “Back to the city, then?”
You nod, and signal to a cab just down the street. Soon, your party climbs aboard the cushioned cart, and the toned driver begins to briskly trot in direction of the Fillydelphia docks.
Moonflower: “So if the manager’s super nice, and the Kirin didn’t wanna talk to him, ya think they’ll talk to us?”
You admit that you’re not sure; there is no guarantee that you will understand a word they say to begin with, and vice versa. On that matter, you ask your friends if either of them speak Kirinese.
Moonflower: “Heehee! Not me.”
Honourshine: “Neither do I, but I did read something about that last night. According to this book, the Empire’s island used to be split into one hundred kingdoms, each with its own culture and language.
To communicate with neighbouring nations, the unicorns used something called sprite magic to translate each other’s words. It isn’t clear exactly how it worked, but there’s always a chance the Kirin know more about it…”

The sun continues to shine brightly in the deep blue afternoon sky as you return to the Celestial Tide inn. Among the ponies sitting on the terrace next to the busy street, you spot a couple wearing the guild colours chatting over empty cups of tea.
You recall Cerulean Drift telling you to make sure that your business here is done before leaving. You certainly feel better prepared than you did this morning, but still take a moment to consider anything you might have missed.
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