Love and Other Acquired Tastes
Love and Other Acquired Tastes
The cardboard roof caved in, and the little filly spluttered as cold rainwater drenched her. She tried to hold the box up with her hooves, but the wet cardboard spalled off in ragged chunks and then her home fell apart entirely. She was now entirely open to the unfriendly sky, and her coat and mane were sodden through in seconds. She tried to bunch up, huddle to gain some warmth but she couldn't. The wind was too fierce. She hugged herself with her forehooves and scuttled closer to the wall. It was damp and cold, and the bricks bit into her back uncomfortably, but the eaves of the building provided some small protection. Not enough. She sniffled.
The cup in front of her was nearly empty. When she first started yesterday a few ponies tossed a bit or two, but that quickly stopped. She hadn't seen anyone so much as approach her since. They even crossed the street to avoid her. All those rich-looking ponies in their well-made suits, and not a bit to spare. She could tell they were... afraid. Why?
She heard the clip-clop-splash of someone approaching through the abandoned rain-soaked streets. She looked up, and saw—blurrily through the mixed tears and rainwater—a gray shape coming closer. She blinked furiously, and her vision cleared well enough for her to see a short, broad-shouldered, pudgy little pony with a grey coat and a dark mane. He appeared to ignore the rainstorm with equanimity. He wore not a scrap of clothing—just a rather battered-looking silver necklace—and the rainwater drained from his thick coat in streams. He didn't seem to mind. She allowed herself a glimmer of hope, and looked hopefully at her cup.
He passed her by.
Her ears drooped, and then perked up again when she heard his steps pause. He came back and gave her a look. To her surprise he sat right next to her, splashing into a puddle. He did not seem to mind that either. He extracted a thermos from his saddlebags that looked as if it had been in half-a-dozen wars—and on the losing side, too—unscrewed the top which was patterned in peeling gold suns, and poured something fragrant and warm into it.
"Tea, miss," he rumbled offering her the cup, "it'll keep the chill out?"
She shook her head minutely and he shrugged and took a sip himself.
"Suit yourself, miss. There's more if you change your mind."
They sat like that in silence for a few moments while the strange stallion sipped his tea.
"Twenty billion, six hundred and eighty million, ninety three thousand, eight hundred and three bits," he said at length.
That... wasn't what she expected to hear. She just looked at him, eyes wide.
"The budget," he said, waving his arm vaguely, "of Foal Protective Services. That's your orphanages, foster family support, agents, psychologists, administration, et cetera, et cetera, et cetera. Quite a bundle as you may imagine. I should know. I make sure it passes muster every damned year. Pardon my language, miss. Still. The House passes it. Well, they do if they know what good for 'em."
She kept silent. She hardly knew what else to say.
"It's a big responsibility, you understand. The Princesses rule with a light touch, but on this score the rule was ever the same. No exceptions, no excuses, nothing. Nopony gets left out in the cold. No matter the price. Not ever."
He took a swig of tea and continued.
"Now, we're just ponies. Mortal, fallible, all that. We make mistakes. And it is possible that somewhere in the hinterlands there's somepony who got forgotten. Somepony hungry. Somepony alone. I hope there isn't, but there's no way of knowing. But in Canterlot? The center of Canterlot? Leaning on the Ministry of Equine Services building?"
The strange stallion's horn flashed a muted grey, and she felt a prickling all over her... carapace.
Oh crap.
"What I'm really trying to say," said Dotted Line turning to the changeling beside him, "is... there's six snipers covering us right now. Any last words?"
Seeker Of Hidden Places 27 swallowed.
"P—parley?"
"Damn."
Changelings could do more than just sense the emotions of ponies. They could taste the emotional tenor of places. This, Seeker decided, was not a friendly room. It was small, neat, windowless, and—as she could sense based on the sense of tenseness in the stones—heavily warded. There was a mirror, too, and behind it... darkness? Night? The Moon? Madness. This place was thick with magic.
She looked across the scuffed desk at the pony who discovered her. She tried to probe his mind a bit more directly, but she got nowhere. In a world alive with emotion, he was a blank space. A void. Shackled as she was, and trapped as she was, that made her worried most of all. What was he? Even inanimate objects had some emotional resonance.
"What are you," he asked.
"I... I'm a Changeling."
"Changeling drones can't speak. They can't venture far from the Queen. Obviously you can."
"I'm, uh, I'm Seeker caste."
There was a silence.
"I see. Who are you here to kill?"
"I—"
"Please cooperate. We do not wish you harm, but we need to protect ourselves. Who were you sent to kill?"
"I wasn't sent. I... ran."
"Pardon?"
"I ran. From the hive. From... her. I can't... we kept our minds when she took over. The Seekers. She could still order us around and we obeyed but we knew what we were doing. What she made us do. I couldn't. Not anymore. So I ran. I expected to die, honestly. Not get this far. But I did. All the way to the Canterlot. I thought I'd be safe in the shadow of the Sun. But I was so very hungry and so I..."
"You tried to feed off of sympathy?"
"I didn't want to steal someone's love. It was forbidden before... Before the fall. But if they felt sympathy... sorrow... I could survive off that. But it didn't work. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to interfere with your ponies, but I was so hungry and... I'm sorry."
There was a drawn out silence.
"I should tell you that you can't lie. Not here. Your mind is being... examined. Normally terribly, terribly illegal, but... Special circumstances. We thought you were an assassin."
"I'm not lying."
The grey pony looked to the side, his eyes unfocused, and expression abstracted, and then nodded to nobody in particular.
"You aren't. I need to leave. Will you... starve if left here alone for a few hours?"
"I—yes. Maybe. I don't know what's keeping me alive right now. It's been... weeks. Maybe a month."
The grey pony looked worried for a second, and then his face set. He reached with his hoof and lifted the silver chain that hung heavily around his neck. Instantly the blank spot was gone. Seeker could sense... guilt. Regret. Sadness. Love. It took every ounce of willpower to leave the love alone. Not hers. Not hers.
"Well," the pony said expectantly, "what are you waiting for?"
"I can't just... we don't steal. We didn't use to—"
"You aren't stealing. I'm giving. What do you need me to do?"
"Just... just think about someone you care about."
It tasted like... no words can explain it. Like a drink of water after a thousand years in the desert. Seeker nearly drowned in it, losing control for a moment. She smelled... a warm hearth. Pancakes. She heard laughter. Violin music. She felt at home. Cared for.
At length she opened her eyes.
"I... I don't feel like I love her any less," said the grey pony whose expression was halfway between apprehensive and confused.
"That's not how it works. I... your daughter?"
"Goddaughter, " the grey pony said, getting up, gathering papers from his desk, "I need to leave now. I've some considerable work to do. I'll be back shortly. Bang on the door if you need anything."
And with that he left. He had put the necklace on and Seeker could no longer tell what he was feeling. Was he... angry? Disgusted? She wasn't as good at expressions as she should have been. It was always easier to just look. Still. She probably bought herself a few more days. Maybe even weeks. By her standards that was a fortune.
She fell into uneasy sleep. She dreamed the same dream that followed her each night: of becoming someone else, forever. Of slipping on the disguise once and for all. This time, however, the dream came true.
The next few months were spent getting used to being someone entirely different. She had disguises before in her life and the twenty-six incarnations that came before had thousands: brief impressions, studious imitations, false identities so involved that the fate of entire realms turned on their deception. This disguise was more difficult than any of those. Unprecedented, even.
"Ah, Seeker! Please, come in."
Ponies kept advising each other to 'just be yourself.' Nonsense, she always thought, as if they had any choice, but she saw it from a new perspective now. Being yourself was difficult.
"Thank you, Dotted. You wanted to see me?"
Luckily, she had help.
The office was—if possible—even more cluttered with paper than usual. She could just barely glimpse Dotted behind a range of paperwork mountains starring intently at a stopwatch and thermometer.
"Indeed. Tea?"
Seeker smiled despite herself—she tried to avoid it, ponies found her smile disconcerting what with the fangs and all—but the ritual always made her grin. Ponies were starting to rub off on her. Or was she always pony-like, and they were just rubbing off the layers of disguises? How did ponies keep track of who they were without a target to impersonate?
"Ah, I'm afraid I don't partake."
"Of course. Of course. Some enjoyment of tea, then?"
"That would be lovely."
Dotted sat on his much-abused office chair, and Seeker perched on what probably was a guest chair, underneath all the papers, folders, scrolls, and books. Dotted sipped tea and she sipped, well. The joy of tea. It tasted... refreshing. Pleasantly astringent. Warm. Ponies had so many ways of enjoying things.
"How are you finding the Behavioral Analysis Unit, then?"
"Very well, thank you. I am surprised, though."
"Oh?"
"I thought you'd want me using my... abilities."
"You are. Sensing emotions is a very valuable skill."
"I meant... disguises. Spying."
"Oh. That. Well, I figured you've had your fill of subterfuge, yes?"
"That's very considerate."
"Well... given the circumstances of our meeting... Anyway. You are useful in that capacity as well, you know."
"I am?"
"Yes. I may have leaked that I employ a Changeling Seeker, you see."
"That must have caused... worry."
Dotted grinned.
"Some. Lots of running around in circles. Waving hooves, claws, and other distal limbs. Great fun."
"But was it useful?"
"Well, I must confess my ponies also may have allowed your file to be stolen."
"My file?"
"Yes. The one that says you are an elite spy who can turn into absolutely anything as long as it is not underwater."
"That's... amazingly inaccurate."
"It was a draft version. Typos, you understand. Anyway, as a result Von Clawsewitz is now holding the meetings he thinks I don't yet know about right next to my array of hydrophones."
"Well, at least he's safe from my elite spying abilities."
"Exactly."
"Was this why you invited me here?"
"No. Just making conversation. It's about the security for this big royal ruckus in Ponyville."
"Ruckus?"
"Mhm-hm. Technical term. Look, I don't know how to ask this but... do you do weddings?"
Stats
Page generated in 0.025 seconds
Total duration
1,003 users online
1,432,416 hits today, 2,167,270 yesterday
FIMFiction
My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic Fanfiction
Designed and coded by knighty & Xaquseg - © 2011-2024
Follow & Support Us
Support us
SubStar
Chat!
Discord
Follow us
Twitter
MLP: Friendship is Magic® - © 2024 Hasbro Inc.®
Fimfiction is in no way affiliated with or endorsed by Hasbro Inc.®
Ahahaha! Well done!
Oh, good lord, that speech he gave her. That was beautiful.
...
Yoink!
My headcanon now!
*Flees*
img2.wikia.nocookie.net/__cb20140422183535/mlp/images/9/9f/FANMADE_Sweetie_Belle_seems_legit_reaction.png
Well the thing about special circumstances are that if you look hard enough, everything looks special, after all anypony could be an assassin, could they not?
"but the wet concrete spalled off in ragged chunks"
...Eh? Are... What? Sorry, but I'm very confused by this. Are there some additional meanings to these words I don't know? My brain tries to read this as the impact mechanics meaning of spallation applied to the pavement under her, which I don't think makes sense in context.
Good story, though. And that ending. :D
6111765
It should have been 'cardboard' not 'concrete.' The box was breaking apart, d'you see.
I have no earthly clue as to how exactly I made the mistake I did, however. I have decided to blame fabled German dramatist, Friedrich Maximilian Klinger.
No particular reason. I just don't feel like admitting I'm an idiot, is all, and he's dead and can't complain.
6111720 Sure, anybody could be, but disguised changelings (y'know, citizens of a hostile nation that recently invaded) are rather more likely to be assassins than random ponies.
Brilliant!
6111776
Ah, thanks. :)
And amazingly, that still seems more probable than the BonBon revelations.
I was expecting a standard "grumpy-good-pony does good stuff grumpily" story, but this went in an enjoyable and unexpected direction.
sense the emotions of ponies.
I think you may have meant this.
It's official now, I guess. The changeling from "Slice of Life" is clearly best changeling. Now we know that her name is Seeker.
Thus, Seeker is best changeling.
We need more Seeker.
It pleases me to see he still has the Thermos. Not that I think he wouldn't have parted with it for love nor money, it's just nice to see it has survived. I suspect it is becoming a Constant, for him.
6111720
Fortunately, Dotted Line is astoundingly good at differentiating what is special, and what merely looks special.
That feeling of frustration when you've already favorited a story, and you want to favorite it a second time.
So easy to get someone to believe complete lies when you tell them what they want to hear.
Oh, that was sweet. Dotted has such a touch for irony. And so does Seeker, by complete accident. Leaning up agains the building. (snort)
6112235 I know, right!?
Damn... I really do enjoy your writing, have to tell you that, and this certainly was no exception, Dotted is in true form as usual. I think one of the highest compliments I can give is that this feels quite Pratchettian, with the turns of phrase, whimsical verbosity and the threads of humor, just in a rather friendlier and more caring world compared to the multiple seedy under (and over) bellies of Ankh-Morpork.
Dotted's speech to Seeker at the beginning came right out of left field. You pulled the rug out from under me quite nicely. Afterwards, using the knowledge of Seeker's... uniqueness as an asset struck me as a very Civil Service way to handle things. Tying it back into the wedding was a neat bit, but seemed almost perfunctory.
Not that I'm complaining, mind; I always look forward to your peeks into the inner workings of Equestria's most under-appreciated government agency.
Her placement at the beginning of the story, then just how much is spent to keep foals out of the cold and then the reveal. Brilliant. The rest is just good writing and some fun. Looking forward to more.
So, uh, next time you do a Civil Service fic... We get more Seeker then, yeah?
Perfection, as usual. Anything you do is utterly brilliant, and the latest in this series is no exception!
Beautifully done, as per usual.
I NEED TO GIVE YOU MORE LIKES GODDAMIT
Nice opening twist, and very heartfelt thereafter. Couple things:
I think you're missing a word there somewhere.
If I'm interpreting what you're saying correctly, it should technically be "used to." Dunno if that's dialectical or not, so I'm on the fence.
Nicely done. Another great short.
If I could like this every day I would.
I think that has to be the best explanation about that changeling's presence at the wedding that will ever be written in a fanfic.
Well done sir I tip my hat to you.
...this chapter was a trip of feels, entirely amazing and had the most awesome of endings just when I'd stopped thinking about that scene.
I want to see more and I can't decide if of Dotted Line or Seeker. Maybe a sequel chapter?
Very, very nice. I liked this whole little scene.
I like that.
I applaud, tip my hat and flap my fins in a possibly excited way.
Also, I'll be off for a celebratory cup of tea in your honour.
There I was expecting one sort of story, and then Dotted Line shows up, and I get quite another. And I'm annoyed that I didn't recognize him until the tea flask appeared.
That it was good almost goes without saying.
Makes sense to me. Well done from start to finish.
That's an interesting little back-story on that unusual blue-eyed Changeling!
This was an excellent little story that reminds us, again, that Dotted Line is usually three or four pages ahead of everypony else. I wonder when Seeker was first identified by the authorities and just how many ulcers ruptured when Dotted insisted on confronting her himself?
Dotted must find it quite fascinating how easy it is to trick ponies and other beings to doing what makes his job easier whilst they still believe that they are outwitting him. It must be very, very difficult not to get cynical. Of course, I think that he likes to imagine he is cynical but, in truth, he is far too good and nice a pony to get like that about anyone.
Oh, I have no doubt that it was Luna behind the mirror.
That's an interesting look at "being yourself."
So Twilight is not the only one who brew her tea this way?
A couple of typos:
Needs comma before "but".
Commas after "well".
6111778
6111720
The special circumstances were 'changeling.' The use of lie-detecting spells is allowed on changelings because otherwise the only way to render a changeling safe is indefinite detention or murder. Neither are appetizing to ponies.
6111986
I remember reading an astonishing amount of fics with homeless fillies (not infrequently Scoots) in appaling circumstances and thinking "No way would the Service stand for this." Hence this story.
Well, I wrote the beginning to sucker you guys in.
6112073
As for Seeker... originally she was just a device: a means to an end, but in writing her I couldn't help but give her a character and so now... I guess she'll have to go and do things. Characters are like that.
The Thermos of Renewed Hope is now a constant companion, yup.
6112235
I like favorites and likes, I must say, but I treasure comments most of all. And you did give me one of those.
6112319
Why, Mr. Secretary did nothing of the sort. A secret government file was stolen by devious foreign agents. The file was inaccurate—that is to say it was currently undergoing updates in order to better reflect reality—but this is mere happenstance.
6112428
I don't often laugh at my own jokes[1], but I giggled at that one mostly because it suddenly came upon me while writing.
[1] One of the crucial uses to which I put pre-readers is to tell me if my work is funny because I frequently have no idea.
6112471
Given that the late, lamented Sir Terry was my favorite write, it's quite welcome praise indeed.
6112577
The story started as a rug-pulling exercise, actually. As I said to someone else in reply, I found myself reading a lot of fics with homeless fillies all over the place and wondering what the Service might say. so originally what's now the intro was the whole thing. But then I thought "Wait. Why is the Changeling there in the first place?" Hence Seeker. But the story was bubbling in my mind nearly complete for a while before I saw Slice of Life and I could never find the time to complete. Then I saw the episode, saw Seeker[1], and decided I had to get it written.
[1] That's Seeker and I'll fight anyone who says otherwise.
6112907
Thanks!
6113035
Being a writer[1] I thrive on compliments, but this one might just be my favorite: That means I did well in making Seeker and that actually makes me profoundly happy. So thanks!
And to answer your question... maybe? I mean she's a character now and so she'll undoubtedly go and do things now. That's what characters do.
[1] Of sorts[2].
[2] Okay, of a very poor sort[3].
[3] Look, just humor me, okay?
6113106
Awww. Thanks!
6113202
Thank you. You are kind to say so.
6113284
I've been... gently persuaded by my friends that I ought to write things that aren't just Obiter Dicta bits-and-pieces[1] and I may oblige you in this at some point.
[1] And also some things that are in OD could just as well have been standalone stories.
6113331
I'm very glad you enjoyed it.
And, also, I've fixed my profoundly embarrassing typos. Um. Thanks.
6113334
Much obliged!
6113339
Poor Seeker didn't get the most warm of welcomes, but she's inured to that sort of thing. Some fillies who were young enough to not know to be scared walked up to her later. It turns out that youthful curiosity has a surprisingly minty taste.
6113523
Well I did trim down his description when he showed up in the interest of getting to the meat of the story as soon as possible. And the thermos is a bit of a trademark[1] for Dotty.
[1] Not to mention for Thermos L.L.C of Chicago.
6113547
Very kind of you. :)
6113670
I'm glad you liked it! Also there's a special reason for why Dotted went to confront the Changeling himself. The necklace. The snipers were too far away to be noticed, but the person who went to perform the spell needed to be warded in such a way so as to hide the hostile intent. That sort of spell is hard to do—pony emotions are astoundingly magical—and so it's best if you just use someone who's normally a telepathic null-zone thanks to his chain of office which was, sensibly, enchanted in centuries past.
Oh, and you are nearly right. Behind the mirror (one-way, obviously) is L the mysterious mare at the head of the Lunar Council, the only Equestrian intelligence agency that actually matters. The identity of 'L' is a complete mystery and in no way is she actually Princess Luna. She wears a little domino mask and everything.
6113721
Well Dotty is a chemist, you know.
Also, thanks for the typo corrections!
6113830
One thousand geek points for you, sir!
Permanent Undersecretary of State for Agriculture, Forestry, and Fishing. Real party animal, too. Still, it is astounding what you can get ponies to sign after a few (dozen).
Also, that's Dame Gala Appleby, DCMG to you, mister.
You're not allowed to talk about the owls, Ghost, it's fate-locked content.
In all seriousness, though, it was an honour and a pleasure to read this when I did.
I'm not sure what you did, or how you did it, but the introduction does look much tighter now, which means we get to-
-that much quicker, easily my favourite part of the story except for everything that comes after it.
Well, this happened.
Obiter Dicta was already my favorite story on the site, but this was superb. Looking forward to the next installment.
In addition to the amazing amounts of character goodness and genre-savvy we've come to expect from the Civil Service[1], I think my favorite thing about this was thay Dotty's Chains of Command turned out to be an ancient magic item with (at least) the effect of hiding tje wearer's intent. This sort of magic item is now a thing that exists in Equestrian government, and it makes me wonder what other sorts of regalia of office might be enchanted.
The part with the hydrophones was golden, by the way.
[1]Not to mention those lovely footnotes...
6112235
Thanks to our Lord and Master Knighty, you CAN double favorite something! Just create a new bookshelf called "Double Fave", and add this fic to it.
6114072
Except soon you'll be saying "Dang, why can I only fave this twice, this is triple-fave material" -- and that way lies madness. Best not to start.
6114149
Why stop there? Why not embrace the madness and go all the way to Penta-Fave?
Well, I suppose there would be the problem of clutter...
6113819
"But, Sergeant -!"
Sergeant Stalwart regarded the recruit before him. He had only recently been promoted to the Canterlot guards, but he was loyal, intelligent, and capable. All signs pointed towards a brilliant career; he was just wound a bit too tight.
"Corporal Green Lawns, it's quite reasonable for you to feel like someone's watching you inside the palace. There are literally hundreds of ponies moving hither and yon at all hours, tours twice a day-"
"It wasn't a tour group!" the recruit blurted. Stalwart narrowed his eyes. Green Lawn's own widened, as he realized his error. "...Sir," he finished, lamely.
Stalwart continued to stare down the younger stallion until he looked sufficiently cowed, and then motioned for the younger stallion to continue. He might as well let him get it all out.
"Sir," he continued, calmer this time, "Sir, I could feel it. This wasn't some tour group or random passerby. This had purpose. I wasn't being looked at, I was being watched. What if there's an enemy agent in the palace, taking note of guard patrols? What if it's one of Princess Luna's-"
Stalwart cut the kid off with a gesture. He'd heard this spiel too many times from too many newly minted guards, spooked at being in the same castle as the younger diarch (or was it a tetrarchy now?). He had to set him straight, now.
"Look, Corporal," he began, putting his hoof on the the recruit's shoulder, "you've got good instincts. You're keeping the safety of the realm foremost in your mind, and you're on the lookout for threats. It's a good sign, and I want you to keep that mindset; but there is one thing you've got to get through your skull, and get it through quick."
He then leaned down and looked the wide-eyed junior guard square in the eye.
"The Lunar Service Does Not Exist."
No parcheesi?
Have you ever read any of the short stories in The Cyberiad by Stanisław Lem? That little bit about Seeker sampling Dotted's tea enjoyment like an emotion connoisseur reminds me of the chapter Altruizine: How Bonhomius the Hermetic Hermit Tried to Bring About Universal Happiness, and What Came of It. (The titular character is given 40 kilos of a drug that allows people to feel the emotions of those around them. Bonhomius accidentally spills it into a city's drinking water. Chaos ensues.)
I certainly hope Seeker can sustain herself on bureaucratic intrigue, political back-stabbing, and petty passive aggressiveness. I cannot imagine there would be much love to go around in the political process...
The most complex background for the lone changeling yet...
The changeling I am utterly convinced was only there to amuse the show staff with how many billions of fanfics would be created from the few seconds of on-screen time the changeling had with zero personal information.
6115156
I think that pretty well sums up the entire episode.
Obviously, the Lunar Council puts out false information about L being Princess Luna as a red herring for their enemies to be distracted with. Anyone who thinks otherwise has merely fallen into L's diabolical scheme.
Another great piece of writing. We want more! Full stories, bits and pieces of Obiter Dicta, you gotta give me another hit man. I'm starting to get the Ghost withdrawal shakes already!
6113819
Of course "L" can't be Princess Luna—she was imprisoned in the moon for a thousand years! Hypothetically speaking, if such a thing as the Lunar Council were to have existed before her return, and Princess Luna, a.k.a., "Nightmare Moon," was running it—even in absentia—the Lunar Council obviously did a terrible job, as it would have had up to a thousand years to undermine the structure of the Equestrian government and military in preparation for her eventual return. That obviously did not happen. And nopony
is crazy enoughwould be so cruel as to drop a pony who's spent the last thousand years out of the loop immediately into the job (never mind what she might think! Isn't it the ECS's job to keep Equestria running?). Thus the head mare cannot be Princess Luna, not at this point in time, at least. Q.E.D. Hypothetically.Now, if hypothetical said head mare of the equally hypothetical Lunar Council were to periodically bring along a hypothetical, frosted, baked confection to the observation room for snacking, or were to occasionally make her hypothetical excuses to a certain hypothetical member of the
hypotheticalRoyal Guard prior to a hypothetical Lunar Council meeting, we might have a possible suspect or two. Just what were Princess Mi Amore Cadenza's duties in the years between Twilight Sparkle becoming Princess Celestia's protégée and the reappearance of the Crystal Empire, anyway, hmmmm?6114640
"Wow. This guy's insane."
"Well, he thought he was the subject of a secret government mind control project. As it turns out, he really was being given daily doses of LSD for 11 years."
"Well, in that case, he looks great."
"Fantastic."
"Yeah…"
6113745
Aww. And here I was hoping that Equestria employed a zebra by the name of Zakalwe, (in)famous for his extreme talent at stirring up trouble, and his handler Dizzy Spin and her extraordinarily snarky dragon assistant, tasked to make sure he undermines, upheaves and unsettles places and people Equestria would rather not have blighting the world map...
A lovely piece. May we expect more soon please?