The Conversion Bureau
HUMAN
in Equestria
By Chatoyance
11. The Six New Mornings - Asher and Milo, Part One
Special thanks to my spouse Aedina for her assistance with historically accurate Elizabethan speech.
Crimson Beauty panted from the fairly oppressive heat, and from slight exhaustion. It had taken hours of constant galloping to wear down her remarkable earthpony stamina, and she was surprised she had a limit at all.
What had started as a race, had become a chase, and that had turned into tag with rules against flight - Morning Star couldn't help but love her wings - which in turn had become a rather wide-ranging game of hide-and-seek mixed with hoofball, which itself had simply degenerated into running for the Pflaumenkuchen of it.
It was only that Morning Star had called a time out, utterly out of breath, that Crimson and Plantain had realized just how much fun they had been having, and the astonishing fact they had gotten out of breath themselves. The plantation was always warm, always humid, and almost always sunny. It rained at three every Lunasday, courtesy of the Mountain Farside Fourth Weather Squadron, who hauled in clouds from outside the special environment zone of the banana plantation.
"Whoo! You know, I never thought that simply running about could be so entertaining! It wasn't something I was allowed to do you know." Crimson's heart was already slowing back to normal, though she was still slightly out of breath. It had been a long and determined run, filled with too much laughing, and a great deal of telling jokes to each other.
"Oh, I know!" Morning Star preened a wing - one of her coverts had gotten twisted somehow. "Even when I was very young, my parents..." The ghost of a sad look passed across Morning's muzzle. "... my other parents... would not allow any running. Or fun. Or much of anything. I had a whole room of the most expensive toys, but they were for show. I could never play with them." The ghost manifested completely for a few seconds, then vanished. "But now, my dads are fantastic, and I get to come play here with you!"
"I wish there were a way to visit you, in your cloud home. I bet it must be simply amazing to live on a cloud!" Crimson sighed. She didn't regret being an earthpony - not for a second - but the idea of literally walking on the clouds was compelling.
"There is supposed to be a spell that allows that. Dad - Windshear dad - told me about it." Morning Star found another few feathers out of alignment. Keeping her wings in flying shape required constant small attentions.
"I've done it." Plantain showed no pride in her voice, just a matter-of-fact tone. "We played in Cloudsdale for a few shows, and in Nimbus Heights, too. We all got enchanted to cloudwalk, and had to have it redone every three days. I don't remember how much it cost, but it wasn't expensive. I bet if we saved up our allowances..."
"Oh! That's a lovely idea!" Morning Star began making plans in her head. "You two could come and stay overnight! I'm certain my dads would allow it. There's plenty of room - we have a simply huge cloud house - I think you would really enjoy it. Would you come? Would you?"
Crimson and Plantain laughed. Crimson Beauty smiled. "Of course! We always play here, it would be a treat to even just stand on a cloud. Plus, I've wanted to meet these two wonderful fathers you go on about!" Crimson followed the latter with a wink.
"Do I? Do I talk about them too much?" Morning looked faintly worried.
"No - of course not!" Plantain smiled at Crimson.
"Let us say it is exceedingly clear that you love them very much." Crimson Beauty nodded. "They seem to be truly wonderful, and exactly the sort of loving family you need and deserve."
"I... I still sometimes wonder... about my... other parents." Morning Star nibbled at one of her primaries.
"I suppose old Father and Mother do not speak my name anymore. My old name. And certainly not my proper one." Crimson sighed. "At least we have our good and loving mom, is that not right sister?" Crimson was working on losing her overly proper style of speech, but it was difficult. She had been trained to speak with precision and propriety from her very first word by cranky and impatient teachers. Such habits were ever so difficult to break.
Plantain nuzzled her sister. "Mom's a good pony. And since you arrived, she hasn't been on my case about Canterlot. She hasn't been getting on your haunches about climbing the social tiers, has she?"
Crimson shook her head. "No, she's been nothing but wonderful to me. If anything, it's been a little strange - good, but strange - to have such constant and genuine affection. I expect I seem distant to her. I hope she doesn't think I dislike her! I'm just... not used to... being treated so... warmly." Living as an Acres filly had been a massive change for Crimson Beauty, one that was more extreme, in some ways, than her change of species.
Banana Acres was everything Crimson's human mother was not - supportive, interested and affectionate, both emotionally and physically. Crimson could not remember ever being hugged by her human mother. It must have happened, perhaps when she was just a newborn foal. That said in the whole of her memory, such physical contact was just improper for a member of the Good Families.
It made her feel conflicted that she felt more for her adoptive mother than for her old, pre-transformation one. Crimson had no confusion as to why - genuine affection and concern were utterly desirable - but she still felt odd about it all, just the same.
"I've heard some news about the Humans. Whisperwind told me, when they were doing the rain yesterday. I... wasn't sure I should say anything though. Because... you know." Plantain dug at the soil with a hoof.
Morning Star's poll furrowed for a moment. "I... I think I'd like to know. If it's alright with Crimson."
Crimson Beauty stared at the horizon, then followed it to the distant backside of Canterlot Mountain. "I have no problem with anything that might be happening. I am a pony now, and an Acres. What happens to a bunch of... humans... up on a mountain does not concern me in the slightest."
Plantain looked doubtful, but decided to continue. "Apparently, the humans of the Masada have decided to make the lowest ranked members into servants. When they lost the diamond dogs and all other helpers due to the whole 'guns and bacon' thing, they had to do everything themselves. They didn't like that, so last month they had some kind of meeting and made their lower ranked members become servants - butlers and stuff - or else they'd have to leave."
"And leaving the Masada now means being ponified!" Morning Star looked hopeful. "What do you mean, exactly, by 'lower ranks'? How low? Or how high, I should say? Did any of those chosen to... be servants... decide to leave and become ponies?"
Crimson Beauty studied the endless fields. Her old parents were at the very top. Morning's hopes for her old family showing up as ponies to visit her could never apply to the Bettencourts.
"I don't know. I understand that stuff a little better now, because of you and Crimson, but Whisperwind doesn't, and she didn't tell me anything more. I wasn't sure how well either of you would take such news. Whisperwind just likes to gossip about things, because this side of the mountain, there isn't much going on." Plantain looked briefly at her sister. Crimson's ears were low. She didn't realize how easy she was to read. "I didn't get the impression very many left, if it helps."
"Morning Star?" Crimson stared at her hooves. Her ears were very far back. "If... if your human parents ever did... go pony... would you... be happy to see them?"
"I don't know. I would be happy for them. I would be grateful that they were better off. And that they had finally come to their senses. But... I'm not sure I would want to meet them." Morning Star's ears drooped to the sides. "I suppose that isn't very generous or forgiving of me, is it?"
"I would say that they have made their choice, and it is that choice you are respecting." Crimson Beauty held her muzzle tight between words, sounding slightly clipped. "Windshear and Spindrift... and my... mom... make their own choices too, and the choice they make is to always be there with us and for us, no matter what."
This made Plantain frown. Crimson clearly felt sad about her own parents refusal of contact with her. She began to step close to her sister, to brush up beside her in comfort, when suddenly a pegasus coming in to land caught her eye.
It was a mare, the color of the sunset sky, dressed in the gold-and-purple garb of the Royal Messengers. She landed near them, as if she had been sent directly to their location, which, of course, she had.
The three friends all turned to face the winged pony.
"Are you Morning Star, Crimson Beauty, and Plantain Acres?" The Royal Messenger glanced briefly at a card attached to a holder strapped to her foreleg. Plantain briefly glimpsed that the card had illustrations of all three of them, as well as writing. Doubtless their names and other details.
"Yes, that is we. That is us. That's... us. Yup." Crimson Beauty Acres found herself strangely delighted to have managed to speak more plainly. Perhaps she was beginning to lose her overly proper mannerisms after all!
"Tomorrow is the day of revival for 'Asher Malcolm Brin'. A carriage will be sent for you just before sunset. You will join their majesties for dinner." The exquisite messenger bowed, and then began a short trot. Within three steps she was airborne and flying south to some other appointment.
The three fillies looked at one another.
"That was very kind, but I dare say I would never consider forgetting such an important matter!" Crimson stamped her little tan hoof.
Morning and Plantain could not help but giggle at this. Crimson might never outgrow her formal upbringing. Not that this was bad, rather that it was somehow amusing when she forgot herself after trying so hard.
Crimson, Morning, and Plantain could not help but stare.
It had been six years since any of them had seen a living human. Over the past year, they had visited the Waiting Room five times, to see their lithified friends. They knew Asher was next, because he had been twelve at the time they had all been turned to stone. Morning Star, at sixteen, had been the first to be revivified. The next had been Crimson Beauty at thirteen. All three had expected Asher's turn to happen much as had Crimson's. He would awake to pony friends.
Sergey Brendalthorpe Brin sat nervously at the vast, low table. His knees rose above the surface as he sat on the short, padded, marble seat. His back was straight and rigid, his flat, primate face held in a frozen false smile.
"I thought humans weren't allowed outside the Masada unless they were ponified! Wasn't that the rule since the 'guns and bacon' incident?" Plantain spoke softly, almost a whisper.
"That is what we were told. The princess invoked some of the same clauses and provisions that she used when she limited their reproduction." All had been the ruling since their multiple blatant violations of the Covenant. "How can he be here like that?" Morning Star couldn't help but stare at the man. Looking at him made her feel strange. Four years ago, she herself had been just such a gangly, awkward, flat-muzzled creature. She had become so entirely comfortable being a pegasus, that it was hard to reconcile her past with her present. Memories of her previous form began to haunt her, forcing her to turn away.
"Mister Brin must... be here for Asher." Crimson Beauty felt a wave of complex and very conflicting emotions wash over her. Her human parents had never tried to see her, they had never sent a letter, nor had they asked for her to visit them. Yet here, far across and down the table, Asher's father sat. He looked utterly out of place, completely uncomfortable in a world not built in any way for him.
"But he was one of the architects of the Covenant! He despises ponies!" Morning Star shook her head. "Anypony but him. I half believed that my parents would be there for me once I had been ponified. I could even believe Crimson's parents showing up... but not Brin!"
"He was often a guest of my father's. They would work late into the night, and he was loud and frightening sometimes. He seemed a very angry sort of man." Crimson tore her eyes away, she found she was staring again. "The way Asher behaved... I did not feel that he was at all loved."
"Yet, here he is." Morning Star looked at the human's hands, then at her own dainty hooves. She tried to remember walking on her hind legs only, lurching about, grabbing at things with little pink octopuses on the ends of her forelegs. It seemed so distant, and cold, and impersonal compared to holding things with her mouth. Being a pony was always an intimate, close existence, working together, mouth to mouth and hoof to hoof. Brin's hands looked like hairy, fleshy spiders, grafted to the ends of shaved forelegs.
While the three friends sat, uncomfortably trying not to gawk at the human far across the long table, a yellow-green unicorn mare entered the dining hall. She was the color of late summer grass, with a silvery gray mane and tail. She walked with the gait of a model down a runway, every step precise and measured. Plantain whispered to Crimson and Morning "Dinner is getting more interesting by the minute!"
"You!" Sergey Brin had finally broken the whisper-filled quiet.
"What are you doing outside of your cage, monkey?" The olivine mare walked to the human and stood a cautious half-dozen hooves from him.
"How are you liking the barnyard life, Sloane?" It was difficult to tell whether Brin was being cruelly insulting or humorously teasing. It was likely both.
"I thought they didn't allow any monkeys outside of the zoo without civilizing them first." The unicorn swished her silvern tail, but her expression was unreadable. "And the name is Peridot, now. Peridot Cabochon."
"I assume 'Frigid Icicle' was already taken, then?" The grim look on Sergey's face began to crack, his lips parting into an almost feral grin.
"Your primate drives have clearly not left you. Do you still fling your own..." Cabochon's retort ended abruptly as the room was filled with overwhelming presence.
"Your majesties!" Crimson Beauty and her friends spoke as one.
The diarchs of sun and moon entered the hall, each from their own door at the two ends of the long dining table. They took their respective seats, bookending the ponies and human between them. Dinner was the common meal the two sisters always shared, as Celestia prepared for bed, and Luna began her glorious night.
A whirlwind of activity followed, forcing Peridot to take a seat. She chose a spot a goodly distance away from Brin, almost across from Crimson, Morning and Plantain. She nodded and smiled at the fillies as numerous ponies brought in silver trays laden with food, pitchers, jugs, and sauceboats of things to drink and pour, as well as great bowls of fruits and flowers.
When the goblets had been filled, and the trays placed and the bowls arranged, the skillful performance of servers retreated as silently and smoothly as they had entered. Plantain felt like clopping her hooves at the lot of them - the choreography of it all excited her performer's heart.
"We bid thee welcome, all, to this our goodly repast." Luna, diarch of the night, levitated her goblet and took a careful sip.
"Please, enjoy." Celestia indicated the table with a nod of her head. "It is my understanding that the slow-baked aubergines are particularly good. The recipe comes from old, earthly Athens. We have a new assistant chef, which has been hired from among the newfoals, and promises exciting new flavors to enjoy." The princess considered the majority of those present at the table and tilted her head. "Unless, of course, any here once came from that place?"
The three newfoals and the human shook their heads. During the Great Collapse, before the arrival of Equestria, the Southern Eurozone had been hit the first and hardest, and what had once been Greece in the time of nations had become a desperate and intolerable region.
"Then we are all united in expectation of many unusual treats tonight!" Celestia began floating bowls and trays to herself to take portions from.
"Allow me?" Peridot Cabochon used her hornfield to lift and float a silver tray of idli sambhar - steamed rice cakes with coconut chutney and lentils - over to Crimson who was realizing she could not reach it without having to stand on the table. The new chef was certainly both diverse and talented. Dinner seemed to be a banquet of delicacies from both Equestria and old earth, providing a taste of two universes in one meal.
"Thank you most kindly." Crimson Beauty watched the stack of cakes draw nearer.
"How many would you like?" Peridot smiled. Crimson instantly recognized the expression on the unicorn's muzzle. This mare retained the behavior and mannerisms of one of the Good Families. "Two, please, if you would be so kind." Sergey Brin had called her 'Sloane'. Crimson wracked her brain to try to remember if she had ever met the green mare back in her bipedal days. Even if she had, Crimson realized, she may have simply been introduced as somepony's mother.
Which Peridot Cabochon must be. She must be one of the other children's mothers.
She wasn't Asher's mother. Who then? Asher had been twelve when he had been turned to stone. It couldn't be Isla, Isla was very young. Eight, probably. Oliver? Oliver was large, but he was large for his age. Besides, his grip on Isla was so fierce, and dug so deeply into her clothing and sides that they had simply been left in position. They would likely be revivified together, when Isla turned eighteen by the calender.
It had to be Milo Cameron. Peridot Cabochon could only be Milo's mother. That meant that Milo must also have been twelve years old. There would be a double revivification.
Crimson looked at one end of the table to the other. Celestia. Luna. Two princesses, two statues, two delithifications. Hopefully two ponies. The alternative was... too terrible to contemplate.
Milo's mother had gone pony for him. Crimson's heart swelled. Two human parents were here for their children. The issue of Asher's father was still an utter curiosity - why Celestia was allowing him to remain human outside the Masada since the new ruling was a mystery. But in any case, here were two children who had not been forsaken by their parents, and that was beyond wonderful.
It also stung.
The idli in Crimson's mouth seemed to lose its deliciousness. Once again, thoughts of her own human mother and father flooded Crimson's mind. Now, it wasn't just that neither Father nor Mother had been there for her transformation, or that they had never tried to contact her after she had become a pony. It was that it had been six years now. Their rejection appeared absolute, and utter.
"Crimmy?" Plantain had a hoof through the wide handle of a pitcher. She had just poured herself something greenish that smelled lovely. "You okay? Want some melonade?"
Crimson Beauty snapped back to the present. "Please forgive me. I was... lost... in my thoughts." Princess Celestia seemed to be talking to Peridot about her career in Canterlot. Apparently, Milo's mother was a medical researcher.
"...and that was when I realized that I had a talent for it. Arcanum sent me to see Esoteric Gossamer - she's the head of magical research at the college..." Celestia nodded, she knew the unicorn "...and she suggested I go talk to the heads of the medical school. I never forgot the glimpse you gave us of how things really are, beyond the five senses we knew on earth. As a unicorn, now I can see that greater world whenever I wish, and... I find it fascinating."
"Are you working on anything currently, Peridot?" Celestia floated another tiny pillow of what appeared to be some kind of dim sum into her mouth. She seemed pleased by the taste of it.
"I'm on a project where we use a ring of oricalchic lodestone with an empyric crystal suspended in the middle as a thaumatic lens. The concept is that it could act like a magical microscope. Where mere lenses can resolve the simple image of something, if this works, it would become a dweonic microscope, allowing a unicorn to resolve the actual substance of things. It's quite exciting." Peridot sipped from her goblet. "You could project your mind right into individual cells and see them in the process of being alive. It might even be possible to repair individual cells, or discover simpler ways to regenerate tissues on the large scale!"
Crimson watched Celestia listening to the green unicorn. She seemed genuinely interested in Cabochon's work. Although the princess could weave new cells from nothing but the raw substance of magic itself, the effort of this little unicorn mare to gain even the tiniest fraction of such majestic perception and ability was not the least laughable to her. If anything, the princess seemed proud of Peridot.
"What you are going on about, we had before. Electron microscopes. Atomic force microscopes. Quantum interference microscopy! Not that there are electrons or atoms or quantum forces here in pony land." Sergey Brin slapped the fork that had been provided to him alone, down. "We had it all, before."
Cabochon stared coldly at the human. "Those clumsy toys are nothing compared to what I am speaking of, Sergey." The green unicorn's voice was tight and strained, barely under control. "I am not talking of petty images or computer reconstructions. I go down myself, with my will, right into living cells and float with them, inside them, experiencing them as thriving entities that I know and feel inside and out. There is no separation, no distance. You know nothing, Sergey. Have you already forgotten Celestia's vision?"
Brin glowered and mumbled to himself. Watching the antagonistic exchange made Crimson, Plantain and Morning all desperate to discover how - after all of the events of the last six years - Sergey Brin could be at this table still in human form.
Morning Star decided to break the ensuing silence with a peripheral question. One that might just lead into finding out how Brin could be at Canterlot. "Princess Celestia?"
"Yes, Morning Star?"
"I am curious about what happened to the diamond dog servants that served the Good Families. I know they were removed from the Masada, but... I greatly cared about my guardian, a dog named 'Gnashia'. I do not know if she was ever forced to hold human weapons for them, but..."
This got a jerk and a short glare from Brin, across the table.
"...even if this was so, I know in my heart that she would have not wanted to. She was a good friend, and told me stories when I was lonely. I would feel sad to think the poor dogs being punished for the actions of those they served." The second look from Sergey spoke of deeply restrained anger. Morning Star shuddered.
Much to her surprise, it was the princess of the night that answered her. "Dear heart that doth chafe for thine helper, take thee comfort and be thee at gentle peace. The acts of the wayward taint not our regard towards their servants, and we do assure thee that thy faithful hoofmaiden hath been well placed in goodly and worthy circumstances. Indeed the entirety of the servants canid have been released from any poisonous comprehensions, and received the finest of counsel. They are newly positioned in places of that good service to which all canines aspire."
"You mean you erased any memory of firearms from them - and likely their knowledge of us as well..." Sergey's eyes bored into the princess "...and then gave them to somebody else!" Brin finished by slamming his goblet down so that a drop leaped into the air and then fell on the table.
Princess Luna was quiet for a short time, studying the human. "Devoid of strong leadership, diamond dogs dwell in misery. Such is their wont and their nature. An' so tis our province to provide those who plead to us with that service which they do require to thrive. We would not let languish any compassioned souls without succor."
"What of our needs? What of human needs?" Sergey was beginning to breath hard.
"Armies martialed and weapons crafted in opposition to both law and sense be not needs, but lusts, and despicable desires at that. Our sister would be at rights to conclude the annoyance of thee, save for her heedless adherence to keeping her honor even when others have disgraced their own. Thou dost sit at our table, with special clemency granted thee, and dare speak of demands when thine own honor lies as a tattered flag?"
Brin shrank against her fierce eyes even more than from her words. Finally, after hanging his head low over his plate, the man managed to speak. "I apologize, your highness. Please forgive me." He dared not look up.
Crimson Beauty looked to Morning Star and Plantain. All felt very uncomfortable now. Seeing the nocturnal regent upset, even quietly annoyed, was surprisingly intense. Princess Luna possessed a presence that filled even the largest hall.
The three friends fidgeted, unable to eat. The silence was oppressive, and they weren't sure whether to act as if nothing had happened, or to say something, or to change the subject entirely.
"Please relax, little ones." The three fillies turned their eyes to Celestia. There was no question who she was speaking to. "Though there may be some tensions..." Brin continued to stare at his plate. "...we are all friends here, and all together in the same wish - to see poor Asher and young Milo returned to life and joy once more."
"And hooves." Brin said the words flatly. There was no more emotion left within him.
"Yes, Sergey Brin. And by your word, if your son chooses both life and hooves - for they are the same thing with him - then, as you have demanded, such will also be true for you. If dear Asher chooses to remain human, then I am contractually bound by our mutual Covenant to let his earthly nature take its lawful course." This last left Celestia looking sad.
"I get to speak with him, as me, no matter what, right?" Brin's voice was a pleading one, insecure and frightened despite his former bravado.
"Sergey Brendalthorpe Brin." The princess almost seemed annoyed. "I always, always keep my promises."
Crimson, Plantain, and Morning walked with Peridot and Brin behind the two princesses. All had, in their own ways, been glad that the tense dinner was over. They were on their way to the Waiting Room, where both diarchs would work together to revivify, and hopefully transform both Asher Brin and Milo Cameron.
"Ms. Cabochon?" Crimson had finally decided what she wanted to ask the mother of Milo. It had taken her all of dinner to work up the courage to ask it.
"Call me Peridot." The mare offered a faint, only slightly false smile.
"I wished to say how very glad I am that you are here for Milo. I know your devotion will mean all of Equestria to him." The first part was easy. Crimson found herself uncertain again about the second part. "I wonder if... if you would mind me asking... rather, what I wish to know is... no, not like that. Oh dear." It wasn't that Crimson was afraid of Peridot, rather she felt afraid of what her own reaction might be to whatever answer she received.
"You want to know why I became a pony?" The group turned a corner, and headed up a long and curving staircase.
Crimson climbed the steps steadily. At one point, Sergey asked for a rest, he was out of breath. "Yes, Ms... Peridot. I would like to know if... if you did it... if you did it to be with Milo."
Peridot stared straight ahead, not looking at anypony, as they all waited for the human among them to regain his stamina. "Now that I am a pony, I wish more than anything that my reason had been for Milo. It is my shame that I choose ponification only because I could not bear to remain trapped within the walls of the Masada. The others blamed me for the discovery of their plan to train and arm the diamond dog servants. I was the one that ordered my dog to shoot a pig. Until that moment, we had kept the pigs isolated and unaware of where they were, or that humans were involved at all. I refused to accept that the pigs had souls too. Thus we were discovered even before you entered that forest. I was shunned and constantly pollbeaten. I felt like I was suffocating. I converted because I imagined I would start my own little empire apart from the rest."
It shocked Crimson that Peridot could talk of such things so freely. The look in her unfocused eye suggested speaking of these matters caused her suffering, yet she showed no emotion in her voice. Finally, Crimson found a reply. "But... you are here for Milo now! And if you are here at all, then that means that you care for him, that you wish him with you, that you want to be his mother!" Crimson felt bad now, for having broached the topic at all.
They were climbing again, up to the level with the Waiting Room and the statues. "Yes. I want to be the mother of my colt, I want to show him love and tenderness, to guide him as he grows, and to make a happy home for him. I want these things more than I can say." They had reached the proper floor now. Peridot looked Crimson in the eye, finally. "But I only wanted these things after I became a mare. I only truly loved my colt after my ambition was stripped from me, and my desire to rule replaced by pony compassion. I do not care that I am not the me that bore my colt. I fear that Milo will not want me to be his mother, because it will be so obvious that I cared so little for him before."
And to that, Crimson had nothing to say.
I wanted to apologize for taking so long with this chapter. I have been delayed by migraine. But... finally, it is here. Thank you for your kind patience.
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Have I told you recently that you are awesome? Because you are. I love all of those.
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I admit it. I love Dr. Who with an everburning passion.
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The story will be called 'Little Blue Cat', and Chang'e is indeed the cat from CODE: Majeste. Chang'e has been nagging me ever since Majeste for her full story to be told. It is difficult to ignore a cat indefinitely. Claws, you know.
2916066 Patience is a virtue. Apparently one rewarded with good stories to read. Who are we to complain?
2916066
I accept your apology. Cliffhanging me when I want to see what Sergey's going to say? Unforgivable!
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I know... it's just that once I got going, the dinner scene became so interesting to me that I soon realized I could never fit the rest of what needs to be done within this chapter.
I don't like to make overly long chapters. I find that an optimal chapter length is between 4000 and 6000 words, average 5000. Any longer, and a chapter can become tedious, any shorter and it can feel like a cheat.
I am sure you know the story 'Background Pony'. Everyone does, I expect. I utterly admire the writing of that story, I think the author is a genius and a wordsmith, I love the way he writes, I love the imagery, detail, and brilliance of 'Background Pony', but I dislike the story, and I double-dislike the chapter lengths.
Just to make it clear, 'Background Pony' is a story I think is utterly brilliantly written, which I admire and look upon with total praise, yet which I also do not like. I don't like stories that basically torture characters by putting them in hopeless, doomed situations from which there is no possible escape. I loathe emo pain. Even wrapped in Dark Lovecraftian Wonder.
But I love brilliant writing, and 'Background Pony' is totally filled with some of the best writing I have ever read in my life. Just beyond brilliant. Solid gold writing. It's a pity the entire thing can be summed up as 'Lyra had a bad day. Then it got worse. Then it got even worse. Then it went into a bit of a decline."
That said, the real problem is that twenty-thousand word chapters are an affront to sense and reason. There are no electronic chapter-interior bookmarks on Fimfiction, and trying to plow through a twenty to twenty-five thousand word chapter is just horrible. It's exhausting, and it's too easy to lose your place if you stop. I utterly disapprove.
Having learned just how much I hate overly-long chapters, I strive always to keep my chapters within the sweet zone. Not too long, not too short, pleasant to read but not draining to the reader.
That is why I divided this into two parts. It wasn't to tease anyone with a cliffhanger, honestly. It was entirely to avoid a ten or twelve thousand word chapter. I just wanted to explain that, so you wouldn't think I was being cruel as a writer.
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I will blatantly steal these suggestions, except for the unicorns: a group of unicorns is a cluster.
Because I decided so last night.
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Or should a group of unicorns be called a 'poke' of unicorns?
An Impalement of unicorns. Because, ouch.
There's a very sharp contrast between the almost G3-level silliness and the moments of human memories here. I'll have to think about if I like this or not. Because it feels strange to have this doublethink in Crimson Beauty and Morning Star.
Wow, that pony hasn't lost her sharp tongue
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Now you're being silly.
Don't you ever stop.
2916155 I completely agree with you on Background Pony. And yes, the author is brilliant (but the worst username!). I've enjoyed one-shots that clock in at 12,000 words or so, but if I regularly see five figures in chapter word counts, I'm less likely to read it.
I often find myself wishing that I could average 5000. I've found my niche between 3000 and 4000 mostly, with a little longer if it's a one-shot. My first story was <2000 words per chapter and was definitely rushed.
But there are times I follow the Adapted Seventh Rule of Fight Club: Chapters go on as long as they have to.
Here, I don't see anything that could be broken off into its own idea. There's no reason for Sergey to be there if it's not revivification day, so you can't write an interlude. So you came up with the best solution to a problem.
With a new state of being comes a new perspective. I think you could do more with Ms. Cabochon's moral evolution and ethical dilemmas - perhaps a seperate story just from her PoV?
2916173
I don't know what a group of unicorns are usually called, but a group of mountain climbing unicorns are called a pachinko.
Chatoyance,
Trying to sneak another alicorn in on us. Check picture at top, seating from Celestia's right you have Crimson Beauty, Plantain, and Morning Star with a horn.
Error Fixed.
I'm guessing you mean "Let us say".
The name was given earlier as Peridot, so I suspect this is a typo.
Hmm! This is interesting. I wonder what he wants so badly to say, and why he fears ponification might not let him say it.
Y'know... forgive my irreverence, but in reflecting on this chapter and this story as a whole, a thought occurs to me.
Celestia really needs to get laid.
I mean seriously, you cannot tell me that pony would be so tightly wound if she was getting treasure type O.
Aha. So the dead pigs didn't go to Celestia at first because they didn't know what was going on- as far as they knew they were just being killed by diamond dogs, which is unfortunate but not illegal, and therefore not something that a petition to Celestia could resolve. I knew you'd explain this sooner or later.
2916066
you took a few days longer to write about 4.5k words. By my standards, that doesn't even count as a delay.
2916079
2916155
As someone who reads 1600wpm and actually enjoys reading Tolkien, Background Pony's chapter lengths didn't bother me. :P
2916626 Romance with somepony of her magnitude would have some difficulties with that. The princess's suitor might find themselves frequently buried in the position. Or under the position.
I'm sure she'd tell us that she went through menopause countless centuries ago, anyhow. That would be one of the most awkward conversations one could have with an ancient alicorn. Dear Princess Celestia...
A group of unicorns is called a blessing.
2916456
Hee!
2916588>>2916607
Oh dear. FIXED.
2916526
Oh, double dear! I will fix this after lunch. I guess my migraine was worse than I thought. DERP!
2916626
You may have a point here. Princess Molestia is far more relaxed. After.
2918172
That made me laugh. Oh, my.
2916907
While I can read very quickly... for me it offers little enjoyment. I like to savor a writer's words, and reflect, emotionally, on the choices that they have made and the feelings that they paint. My emotions are much slower than my intellect, sadly, and take time to catch up. I have taught myself to read at a pace that agrees with my heart.
But, for boring, dry, technical things, well.
2918219
Oh, I like that.
2916526
I fixed my little code majeste problem. Simply reload the page, and watch the pegasus appear.
2918219 This seems a little aloof or self-aggrandizing to use in modern pony society... but on the other hoof, I can definitely picture Princess Platinum and her ilk using it in the pre-unification era.
And so the humans discover that there's always someone at the bottom of the totem pole. Take out all the ones beneath, and that someone becomes you. Gravity is as cruel a mistress in sociology as she is in physics.
2916173
An ollivander of unicorns? Or is the cross-reference a bit much?
2918402
It utterly works - wands, unicorns being magic, +1 for a Potter reference... but goodness, talk about obscure! You'd have to be some kind of sickening, totally off the hook Harry Potter nutball fan to know that Garrick Ollivander was the best wand-maker in the world, or that he ran Ollivanders Wand Shop in Diagon Alley, or even that he was born around, say, 1919 in September, or that he was captured by Voldemort and rescued by the three heroes of the books. Plus Dobby, of course. Mustn't forget Dobby. I mean you'd have to be some kind of totally ridiculous nerd to know that kind of....
Oh.
2919094
He was always one of my favourite characters. I've never been quite sure why.
2918265
My "savor" speed is still 1000+ >.>; I just read fast. I take in entire sentences at a glance, absorbing the meaning as a gestalt entity complete unto itself, complete with emotional reactions and intellectual understanding. To me, Background Pony was like a great epic tragedy; I wasn't one of the people in the comment threads that said "new chapter? time to not sleep!" because it only took me an hour to finish one, and I loved every minute of it.
Edit: Perversely, I actually read worse when I slow down, because then my dyslexia starts kicking in. When I can capture a gestalt meaning I don't have the opportunity to switch words/letters, or if I do it doesn't affect my understanding.
I used to make my hands walk around like spiders when I was teasing my sister, back when she was really young, around toddling age. That made me remember the hand-spiders.
2920364
That is an interesting compensation for dyslexia. I shall remember it as a tool, should I find anyone in need of it.
2921262
It pleases me that something within my story brought back memories about fun things!
I'm surprised the highest ranked family didn't immediately become the illustrious Mr. and Mrs. Publicly-Murdered-The-Bettencourts.
Save it, huge crazy-hair lady. Just you wait.
...The difference between the microscopes sounds, conceptually, like more of an interface issue than anything... Or lack of sufficient scientific vision to understand what you were seeing - A little squiggly graph can transport you away just as surely, if you know how to read it... Of course, who knows if dweons are like the particles here, where only so much about them is "real" at the same time - There might just be a lot more to see. Whether that would make them more or less flexible, I couldn't guess.
It's very true that ambition can blind people to the commitments they've made to others, that are supposed to take precedent. Unfortunately those people usually don't realized that they should just pick their battles and not have children. But of course, how far can you really get in a hierarchy if you're not a Family Man?
Extremely interested to see how the dynamic among the two parents and the two kids is going to play out - I think it was a great idea to have one be a human and one be a pony. I'm sure there'll be some defiance of expectations on both sides.
Heh, part of me reaaaallly wanted Brin to respond to Luna's Elizabethan tirade with a self-conscious ".....what?"
Another incredible chapter, well worth the wait.
2916155
whistles innocently and hides his 9k chapters under the bed
2916162
I'm going to blatantly steal constellation and storm at the very least.
Wait, what, why would I need a storm of thestrals? Uh... umm... ninja vanish!
2922010
Unless, of course, the writer is awesome, like Midnight Shadow.
*Peridot
2918402 2916066 It's all falling apart in the Masada now. The constant attempts at fighting facts, that survival ultimately requires a cooperative endeavor, that all the slaves cannot compare to a fellowship, that preying on those who are productive shall either kill them or drive them away eventually, and that all one can be left with in such a case is a lonesome throne with one's very eyes torn out.
(Kudos if you get the reference.)
2916626 2918172 Hey, if a chihuahua and a saint Bernard can manage, I'm sure two sapient entities - one of which as thousands of years of worldly experience - can figure something out, but that's a different story for a different time.
2918265 Cadence is rather personable to, and that's without the mile-wide path of conquests.
2922208 As long as H.R.H. follows the campsite rule.
2922208
Peridot (FIXED!) thank you.
2921262
We called it the "getchoo bug" because it was going to "getchoo getchoo getchoo!" The game was to try to squish it before it tickled you.
2922254 Good advice for any relationship, regardless of any factors.
2923747 2921262 My mother didn't even have to make contact with me in order to make me squirm when it came to tickling.
Another excellent chapter! By jorge, I grow tiddly for another!
Huh... kinda like house elves.
2919094
Or you could go even MORE obscure and make some manner of reference to Harry Potter fanfiction. Like, say, something about how turning a human into a pony violates the laws of physics in ways that would make a trained rationalist gibber. (Been getting quite into HPatMoR these days.)
[EDIT: though of course in TCB stories, it violates the laws of physics through the penetration into our reality of alien physics, tiny pieces of Equestria thrust into our world to make us hapless primates guzzle that strange fluid. ]
2921295
Win-win!
2923747
A tough critter to stop too.
2923906
The anticipation of the tickling to come?
2926547 Yep. Hmmm... how would ponies tickle each other?
2926613
I heard that the ears are one of the more sensitive places, that could be vulnerable to tickles. I think the nose is sensitive too. As for how… Well. They do use their mouths for things we'd normally be using our hands for. Though, I suppose a fuzzy foreleg would have an effect.
And then, there's the traditional raspberry blowing.
This is just so amazing
2916155
I would like to register my extreme appreciation at your chapter length. I completely agree with your opinion.
I fear, in fact, that were your chapters not as manageable, I may have been unable to get into your work as I have.
Thanks for being wonderful!
Hm, wonder what Sergey's game is here. I fully expect that he only agreed to the conditional ponification in the first place because he intends to somehow talk Asher out of it and it was the only way he would be allowed to get near him. Here's hoping that backfires on him.
The rich becoming servants of the super rich sounds right. Without wageslaves, or better yet, real slaves, the super rich must to force the mere rich do the horseapplejobs.