Additional Research: The Profaned
“The princess… and Cotton. Were they… d-dead?”
Celestia could easily see the real question in Twilight’s eyes, the same one she had asked herself those centuries ago.
Did you kill her?
Princess Celestia sighed, and shook her head. “No, neither the princess nor Cotton died. Cotton received a concussion, and Princess Obsidian passed out due to… asphyxiation. Both injuries were nonlethal, and had no lasting effect.” Her tone was very businesslike. “The number of Royal Guards and Griffon Hunters dispatched by Lucky were also unharmed. Relatively. Needless to say, they would not be in fighting condition for some time. Still, they weren’t dead.”
“O-oh.” She stared just for another moment, her eyes playing over the princess’s body. Back then, or so she had told Twilight, Celestia had been smaller, the size of a normal pony. It was within the realm of believability, and so while it was a challenge to change her image of the princess, Twilight had eventually been able to do it. As the story went on, however, that image became more and more cracked, until now, it was on the brink of shattering. Her mental picture of a smaller, younger, pink-maned princess who was almost innocent, and perhaps slightly confused, simply was not congruous with the pony Princess Celestia was describing: a fierce, soldier-to-be alicorn that choked ponies who insulted her.
Twilight glanced at the slender, but powerful forearms of the pony before her. The image of Princess Celestia, fully grown, choking the life out of somepony briefly played out in her mind.
“Well that’s good,” Twilight quickly finished, eyes shooting down towards her desk. She allowed her purple mane to fall over her eyes as she busied herself with writing a few notes.
The princess just waited and watched. Yes, indeed it was good, Celestia thought. Killing one’s fellow pony was an unspeakable, unforgivable act, something she would never willingly do.
Twilight finished her notes, and looked back up, her gaze meeting Celestia’s. She struggled for a moment, shifting uncomfortably in her seat, before again averting her eyes. “So, the courtroom sounded somewhat… disorganized.”
“It was chaos,” Celestia corrected.
Twilight nodded. “Right. Was the adept the one causing it? You made her sound pretty suspicious.”
“No, I mean, it was chaos.”
Twilight tilted her head, and furrowed her brows. “I don’t understand.”
Celestia patiently nodded. “That’s alright. You’re partially right, Adept Reverie was the instrument of our disharmony. But Reverie, the real Reverie, would have never, ever wanted that. It was Discord.”
Taken by curiosity, Twilight’s discomfort towards the princess seemed to ease away, if only momentarily.“But princess,” she objected, “how could it have been Discord? Was Reverie an illusion? Was he on the roof, or something?”
“No, my student. Reverie was quite real. She had been profaned.”
“‘Profaned’?”
“That’s right.” She paused, looking upwards in thought. “Do you remember the day that Discord broke free?”
Twilight nodded. How could she forget?
“Do you remember when he tricked you into believing something that wasn’t right, or even something that wasn’t real? You changed, didn’t you?”
Her student shuddered, in memory of the event. It had felt painfully cold, almost numbing, but worse than that was the emotional torment. She had believed herself to be abandoned by her friends, hopeless, helpless, and utterly alone. It was a type of torture she never wanted to experience again; she would rather have been in physical agony than be changed in such a way. Worst of all, for Twilight especially, was the knowledge that for all her smarts, character, and mental fortitude, the inner workings of her mind had been so easily and frivolously altered, to the point where she was ready to abandon everything she knew and loved.
“It was horrible,” Twilight simply said.
“Indeed, it was. You were ‘greyed out’, as some ponies called it. Profaned. Taken by the illusions and lies of Discord.” Celestia shook her head. “I can only be grateful that I had seen it before. Even then, few things can cure such an illness. Not everypony has an understanding of the magic of friendship like you do, Twilight Sparkle. That kind of magic was, and still is, the simplest and most effective way to banish the profanity, and yet... it was harder to come by than you might think.”
“So, she was ‘greyed out’? What does that mean? I mean, it drove me away from my friends, but…” Twilight looked towards Celestia for answers.
“When a pony is profaned, some truly awful things happen to her. She is not herself. Sometimes, she is a complete reversal of herself, in the most negative way possible. But there is more to it. Thankfully, all those years in stone made Discord weak, as he stood, dwindling away in idleness. Granted, he would have eventually regained his power, but the Discord you and your friends faced was only a shell of his true self.”
“He... what?” Twilight sounded skeptical.
She somberly nodded her head. “Back then, things were different. He had more power, more options, and craftier manners of trickery. The profanity was perhaps the worst of it all. When a pony was profaned, they weren’t simply changed. They were controlled. He would strike fear into his prisoners, scare them into an agreement, and send them on some task. Many ponies were resilient towards it, but even if they did succumb, the profane touch was difficult to hide. The profaned would return to pony society, and in many instances, they were dispatched without incident, as the signs of Discord’s influence were obvious.
“For some ponies, however, it was more difficult to tell. They would speak, look, and act the same, some not even knowing their ill fate, not even suspecting the dark spore they held within them. They served as unknowing double agents, spies, assassins, and in this case, unwilling messengers.
“They could be cured, but in most instances, they had to be killed instead. In fact, killing the profaned was seen by many to be a mercy. Soldiers often spoke to each other about it, telling their friends their preference for what they wanted done, just in case they were discovered to be profaned. To remove the darkness from a pony’s heart without also rending his soul in the process was a difficult maneuver indeed. In most cases, it failed. In all cases, it was unbelievably painful.”
Her tone became low and angry. “I would expect nothing less from that vile fiend. Most of the time, the process of becoming profaned was not as simple as a gentle touch. It is a horrendous process, as I’m sure you know, Twilight, but some instances were… worse, than others.”
A dark fire lit in Princess Celestia’s eyes. A dark line carved itself between her furrowed brows. Her mane cast a shadow over her eyes, something Twilight did not know it could do, and for once, did not seem so bright.
Twilight drew back in her seat, eyes wide and worried, darting back and forth between the eyes of the princess. She had seen the princess angry before, even aggressive in some instances, but never this passionate. This was not the aloof judgement of a higher being; before her was somepony who really felt. But then, even “passionate anger” did not seem to do it justice. What was it that suddenly made the princess she knew all her life seem so different, so threatening?
Hatred?
“For his crimes, there is no punishment in the world that could satisfy justice. Discord deserved more than the comfortable stone prison we gave him.”
**********
A cry of anguish emanated from deep within the Equestrian wilderness. It was a pony’s, it was female, and it was more than the sound of somepony in pain. It was the sound of somepony who was terrified.
It was neither day, nor night, nor twilight. The sun had set, the moon had faded, and the stars had been blown out, one by one, like tiny, delicate candles. She seemed to be in a forest, but she knew it was not a true forest. Maybe it had been, once, but now, it could have been something from another plane of existence. There was grass, there was dirt, there were certainly trees, but it was all wrong, as if the anatomy was incorrect, somehow. The grass felt odd, the dirt was cracked into strange shapes, and the trees were only saddened facades of what they once were, twisted roots digging into the ground and gnarled branches jutting in all directions. The grace of Mother Gaia was slowly creeping out as the entropy seeped in, and the forest, wherever it was, had been made an abominable hybrid, like something from a dream that had gone horribly, terribly wrong.
Another pained cry seemed to shake the leaves on the trees.
It should not have been scary, it should not have frightened her, but it did. She had been with the meanest, roughest group of military misfits, and had gotten into more life-or-death situations than any pony had a right to be in. She had been made an Adept of the Royal Magi, the youngest of the whole group. Her name was Reverie, and she was tough.
And right now, she was utterly terrified.
She prayed to Mother Gaia, prayed for her speedy return. She prayed to Corona to send a single beam of sunlight, and Selena, to put the celestial map back into the sky. Even as she whispered them, she knew her desperate pleas were lost, empty words in a godforsaken place. The deities had long since fled from here.
Another tormented scream. Where was it coming from?
Reverie would have fled the place, too, had she not been bound with chains to the trunk of a thick tree. She would have galloped as far as her limbs could have carried her, had her hind legs not already been broken. She would have bid this place farewell forever, had there not been a multitude of sinisteeds surrounding her, hissing insults at each display of defiance, and jeering with glee at each new pain inflicted upon her by her torturer.
Another shout of pain. She realized it was coming from her own mouth.
Neither the creatures nor the pain were the most frightening thing around. She had killed her share of sinisteeds, and experienced her share of pain. No, what scared her was the fog. A thick, claustrophobic mist hung heavy over the forest, choking the life out of all it touched. No plant was spared, no insect left chirping. Worst of all, it seemed to sap the colors out of everything it came to rest upon. If she looked directly at things, she could see the colors, as if they suddenly snapped back into place when she was watching. But as soon as she turned her eyes, she knew the greyness would come back. Monochrome crept in on her peripheral vision, and everything around her was grey on grey.
A sudden, serpentine hiss sounded only inches away. “Pony-yyyyy.” She felt a slight wind rustle the fur in her left ear. It twitched in response.
Reverie weakly lifted her head. Her tormentor drew back, and stood in front of her, a small knife in his black, decaying hoof. The sinisteeds were pony-like, but just different enough that their emotions and expressions were muddled to a pony’s view, and were often unreadable. However, there was no mistaking the sadistic gleam in his eye.
“What’s wrong, pony?” he said in that odd, double voice sinisteeds always spoke in. “Don’t want to keep playing? I thought you liked fighting!”
She did not respond, instead trying to avoid his gaze. The group of sinisteeds nearby snickered in amusement.
Equestrian was not their first language. Instead, they spoke with an unnerving, bug-like clicking and chittering sound. Some did speak Equestrian, however, and the hissing accent they let creep into their words was all the more unsettling for it.
“Oh, come on, pony. Can’t you be a good sport?”
Most sinisteeds were, to a pony, too identical to tell apart, not that any pony would care about such a thing. This particular one, however, had huge, rough scar running vertically down his face, passing directly over his right eye. Or, it would have passed over his eye if he had one. Where a beady, bug-like blue eye should have been, there was simply a dark, empty socket.
“I’ll even let you choose the next game. Pick your poison.”
Reverie kept her head down, and her eyes half lidded. Even through the chains, she could see herself, and what she saw startled her. There were horrible cuts and bruises, everywhere on her cream colored coat. Streaks of fresh blood ran through her fur. Her mane and tail, which had once been a rainbow of warm colors, the pride and joy of her appearance, were disheveled and messy, clinging together with sweat and blood. Her mane ran down the sides of her face in wet strands. The monochrome fog sapped at its color, too.
On her face, she felt her cheeks bruised and swollen from injury. One of her eyes was similarly swollen, almost to the point where it was impossible to open.
“What should we use next? Knife? Hammer?” His lips parted into what might have been a smile, animalistic and utterly savage, revealing a row of sharp, pointed fangs.
There was a sudden flash of metal, and then a dull thunk. The sinisteed had brought the knife up, and stabbed it into the tree right beside her neck. The steel was buried a good two inches into the wood. She felt a wet trickle down the side of her neck, and realized the sinisteed had actually cut her with the knife, leaving a tiny, bleeding wound.
“Or maybe, just hoof and fang?” He leaned in close to her chin, and made his way down to her neck, nostrils intermittently flaring as he sniffed. It was all she could do to lift her head up away from his, weakly shifting against her chain bindings.
“They say blood of pony tastes good.” She nearly screamed again as she felt a cold tongue run along the side of her neck. A whimper escaped her closed lips as she felt it trail up and over her newest wound.
The tormentor drew back, and frowned at her. “Too warm.” He shrugged. “Oh well. It will do.”
He made a sudden motion towards her, and she found herself screaming as the sinisteed buried his fangs deep into her neck. His comrades cheered.
She had tried to stay unbreakable, to refrain from screaming. When Reverie knew she had been captured, she had promised herself she would not reveal anything to them. That resolve had broken hours ago, when she realized something. They never asked her any questions, never wanted anything from her. They were not torturing her for information. They were torturing her for the fun of it. And at the end of it all, she would be dead.
When she realized that, she let out her first, bloodcurdling scream. Since then, it had been nearly non-stop.
Now, finally, she saw the end. With the sinisteed’s fangs in her neck, her throat would no doubt be punctured, and she would soon asphyxiate. Bile rose to her mouth, her eyes rolled back in her head, and she felt herself fading from the waking world…
A sudden, powerful voice filled the air.
“Cimex!”
Everything seemed to stop. The voice echoed throughout the forest and in her head, carrying with it strange undertones, like the whisperings of a madpony. The fangs slid out of her flesh like daggers, and her head drooped limply forward.
“M-master?” The sinisteed’s voice seemed small and inconsequential in comparison to whoever he was addressing. “Master, I-”
“I told you not to kill her, Cimex.”
“She’s not dead! She’s not dead!” the sinisteed said frantically. “See?”
Reverie felt her head propped up by a cold hoof. Her eyes fluttered open ever so slightly, and in front of her she saw… something. A strange creature that she did not have time to fully comprehend before the sinisteed’s hoof released her chin.
“Sssee?” he pleadingly repeated.
As if on cue, Reverie’s head jerked forward, and she coughed up a sickening mix of phlegm and blood. There was a silence. She felt fluid dribble down her chin.
“Disappointing. If she dies, Cimex, you are next.”
The sinisteed stuttered to himself, in his own native tongue. Eventually, he found the only words he could speak. “B-but, Master-!”
“Enough. You tire me. Bug off!”
There was no delay between the powerful voice’s command, and the sinisteeds’ action. Cimex chittered a frantic order to his group, and in an instant, the buzz of their insect wings filled the air. They all took to the sky with the haste of a life-or-death retreat.
Soon, all was quiet, but even in her half-concious state, Reverie knew better. She could feel the presence of another being stirring in front of her. They sat a minute in silence before it made a sound, and when it did, to Reverie’s surprise, it giggled.
“Tee hee hee hee…”
Reverie made a weak attempt to raise her head, but could not. The thing’s laugh got louder.
“A ha ha ha ha! Oh, I am good! See what I did there?” A hard finger flicked her chin. Her head jerked up a little, but just as quickly lowered again. “Bug off. Because they’re bugs. Right? Get it?”
She meekly groaned in response.
“Oh. Right. The whole dying thing.” The voice sighed. “Ugh, fine.”
A hand, or rather, a paw firmly grasped her chin, and propped it up. “I hate healing magic. So… orderly. This blood vessel must reattach here, this bone must be fixed like this. Your stupid little body just has to have a heart in there somewhere.” The creature snorted in disgust. “No room for creativity.”
Behind her closed eyes, Reverie saw a light, shining through her eyelids. Miraculously, she was beginning to feel better. Her cheeks deflated, her swollen eye felt less sore, and the bite on her neck began to close. It felt similar to the familiar white magic of unicorn doctors, but different. Cold, uncomfortable, unsettling. She almost wished it would stop.
“You ponies are such fragile creatures, you know that? The sinisteeds have an exoskeleton, at least. Well, kind of. It’s more like a twisty, fluid skin that hardens on impact. They can heal themselves, sort of, because they aren’t so stingy with their anatomy.”
She finally dared to open her eyes. Bit by bit, her eyelids eased back, closing again sometimes, either flinching from pain or light.
“I should know…”
She finally opened her eyes, and let out a weak gasp.
“…I created them.”
Reverie’s eyes were wide. Her mouth opened, and shut.
“Come now, my little pony. Let’s just get this over with.” The creature released her chin, opened his arms wide, and waited. “Go on, say it.”
For a moment, she was silent. “Discord.”
“Correct!” He pushed off of the ground and launched into the air, spreading his limbs wide with glee. “King of Chaos, Master of the Malignant, Prince of Pain!”
The air around him distorted, and a thousand things happened at once. Lightning struck directly above him, the ground shook below him, the fog swirled around him, and colors seemed to burst in random spots. Sounds of all kinds assaulted her ears; thunder clapped, glass broke, dogs barked, and she even thought she heard a group of ducks quack. There was no describing it, because there was no way to properly experience and comprehend it.
The chaos stopped as abruptly as it started, and he put a contemplative talon under his chin. “Aaaaand ruler of a bunch of other stuff, too. I don’t know, someday I’ll make a list. Or not.” He shrugged. “No, probably not. That sounds too… orderly.”
He returned to the ground, and looked back to her. “Oh, I apologize, my little pony,” he said, patronizingly. “You’re still in chains! Well, not anymore.”
He stood there, seemingly not having done anything. Still bound to the tree, she looked at him with fear and reluctant curiosity. After a moment, Discord rolled his eyes, and pointed to Reverie’s chest. She looked down, and realized the chains were gone. A second later, she tumbled to the forest floor.
“So,” he casually began. “You must be Reverie. Am I right?”
He waited for the unicorn to struggle to her hooves. She slowly gained her balance, rising from a low stance, facing away from him. Her legs shook for a moment, but then, in a sudden, energetic burst of motion, she sprang towards him, stopped on all four hooves, and pointed her horn in his direction. Her teeth were grit, her brows furrowed, and unleashing all the energy she possessed, Reverie willed a spell to her horn that would send a deluge of searing flame towards him. She gave a furious battle cry.
Nothing happened.
Discord stared for a moment, snorted, and began to laugh hilariously.
Reverie stood motionless, her fury immediately replaced with disbelief. She took a step back, and looked up at her horn.
“H-how…?”
He tutted and wagged a talon. “How what, my little pony? Be specific. If you are referring to how I knew your name, it should be obvious. I mean, there are only thirteen Adepts to begin with, and only a handful of ponies have pretty rainbow manes like yours.” His body seemed to slither through the air as he closed the distance between them. “How could one not hear about a young, gorgeous unicorn such as yourself?”
Discord ran a single, cold talon under her chin. She grimaced, and rolled her head away from his paw. His only reaction was to chuckle, and pat her on the cheek.
“However, if you were referring to your lack of magic, well…” He looked around himself. A wide grin took to his face. “Isn’t this fog just magnificent? So mellow, so immaterial, like a shadow. So grey.” He bobbed his eyebrows.
The grey crept in just a little tighter.
Reverie’s whole body was shaking, and her breathing was heavy. It took all the courage she had to uproot one of her hooves from the ground, take a step back, and then run in the opposite direction.
She had only taken thirteen steps when she dodged around a tree, and stopped dead in her tracks. Discord was right there, lounging in midair, nonchalantly picking at his teeth.
“Hello.”
She jumped in surprise, turned, and ran a different direction. It took even less time before she ran into him again, sitting in the same position, by a tree that was perfectly identical to the first.
“Hello.” He scratched his one, jutting fang.
“I’m not scared of you!” Reverie desperately shouted, as if saying it would make it true. Discord only gave a small smile, and watched as she again galloped away. He did not even need to move, before she came right back to him.
“This is too fun,” she heard Discord say, a tiny grin on his face. She only galloped away.
The grey crept in even more, threatening to grab her, threatening to kill her. She gave a frightened yelp, and kept moving. All of the colors, she knew they were a lie. They were not real. The forest was, all of it, utterly grey.
This time, she did not find him again, but as she galloped through the endless, lifeless forest, his voice followed her everywhere.
“That really is a pretty mane, though,” the voice said, a powerful, offhanded tone echoing through the forest. “So many colors.”
The monochrome fog seemed to close in, tighter and tighter, and she had a hard time of seeing where she was headed. A trail of disturbed dirt and broken branches was left in her wake as she galloped with no heading to speak of. Her only direction was “away”.
She had to get away. She had to. Before it caught her.
“Roy G. Biv.” His voice became singsong. “Hmm hmm hmm, roy-yyyy geeeee biv-vvvv. Would you look at all those colors? On your mane, and your tail? It’s like two rainbows. Like, a double rainbow. All the way. Ha ha ha, I’m so funny…”
She did not answer, for she did not dare. Suddenly, she dug her hooves into the dirt, and grinded to an immediate halt. Discord was right there, his serpentine figure leaning against a tree. He pushed off of it, and crouched low, putting his face right next to hers.
“What’s your favorite color?” he hissed.
Her response was instinctive, both terrified and defiant.
“Red!” She spat a globe of crimson blood onto his cheek.
Discord grinned, raising himself again to his full height. A long serpent’s tongue protruded from his mouth, and licked his cheek clean.
“What a coincidence,” he said, smacking his lips. “Mine too.”
In an instant, a huge lion’s paw came crashing down towards Reverie. She had no chance of dodging it. It clipped the side of her head, and sent her spiraling towards the nearest tree. She hit it, and slid down the trunk to the base, leaving a short trail of red. Across her cheek was a trio of ragged gashes.
She did not move from her position at the base of the tree, electing instead to curl into the tightest ball possible as a last, hopeless defense. She was crying freely and loudly.
“Go away!” Reverie shouted. Tears streamed down her face. Her chest heaved with great, labored sobs. “Leave me alone!”
Discord ignored her. “Actually, that isn’t true. Red is only my second favorite color. You know what my favorite color is?”
He was suddenly standing above her, his head right next to her ear.
“Grey.” He snapped his claws. The air around them shimmered ominously. All was still for a moment, before the shivering unicorn’s eyes widened, focusing on an empty spot in the air. She saw something, and immediately lost all control.
Reverie cried deliriously. “NO!! Get it away! Don’t let it touch me!!”
“Hmm. I don’t know.” Discord drew back from her. “Didn’t you just tell me to go away? Maybe I will just leave you alone. You’ve been so polite, after all.”
She sat up, set her back to the tree, and swung ineffectually at the air, repelling visions of ghosts only she could see. “No! Help! Somepony help!” She made heavy, pitiful grunts of effort as she swung her hooves, a mix between screams and sobs.
Discord looked at her, head tilted, claw under his chin.
“Nah.” He turned around, and started walking away.
“Please! Anything!!”
He stopped, and turned around. “What was that?”
“I’ll do anything! Just get it away!”
Discord allowed himself a huge smile. “Excellent.”
He snapped his claws again. Reverie immediately stopped her swinging and sat there, panting with exhaustion. She brought her hooves to her eyes, and softly cried.
“There, there, my little pony.” Discord slid through the air next to her, and patted her on the back.
Reverie gave a small gasp and flinched, shying away from the touch. Even after she had broken the contact, it made her skin crawl, as if it had infected her with something.
“That’s all you needed to say to make it stop. I’ll keep the it away. I only needed an assistant... oh, for a day, we’ll say. A total of twenty-four measly hours. After that, you’re as free as a bird.”
She cried for a while longer, and Discord patiently waited. He gave a small, private smile. He had already won, he could afford to wait.
Eventually, she lifted her hooves away from her eyes. “W-what… what d-do I have to do?”
“You’re going to deliver a message for me,” Discord said, uncharacteristically gentle.
“A… m-message?”
He shrugged. “Among other things.”
Reverie hesitated and looked away, chest still heaving with deep breaths. She spoke without looking back.
“O-okay.” She sniffled, and wiped another tear away.
A wide, wolfish grin spread across Discord’s face. “Good. Very good. Now, hold still. This will help you feel better.”
Discord put a single talon up to her forehead, and pressed hard against it. Reverie felt a chill creep down her entire body, as if she had just been drenched with a bucket of slow-moving ice water. A part of her immediately protested, but it was soon silenced. The sensation felt strange and unnatural, but good, too. Her body ceased to tremble, her wounds stopped bleeding, and her chest moved in smaller and smaller motions until her rate of breathing was back to normal. Eventually, she stood up, all her fear replaced with unfeeling.
“Where?” she asked. Her tone was dreamy and apathetic.
Discords stepped back to admire his handiwork. Reverie, with her rainbow mane and cream colored coat, was one shade greyer. He grinned even wider.
“To Canterlot.”
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Updates so close together! Me like.
1297330
I know! Who'da thunk it, right?
Huzzah, the rainbow has been doubled
Another wonderful, albeit short, chapter!
It always WAS my headcanon that we never saw even a fraction of the Mad God's depravity... He's like Sheogorath, with a lot less amiability. The little glimpse of his bloodlust was chilling.
A part of me is both glad and disappointed that Obsidian didn't die. Would have made an interesting character point for Celestia. Celestia is still just a pony, and anypony can find it within themselves to take a life.
Then again, accidentally murdering someone this early would have made it just about impossible for Celestia to earn anypony's trust.
I always thought Discord was a little less malevolent than he ought to be, from his name anyways... but Chaos isn't evil, or good. It's just chaos, a true natural state, though one that gives way to harmony to boot.
Sinisteeds being Changelings is interesting.
Ah, a little background I see... well I like it! ...of course... it is a little short... COME ON MAN! YOU DON'T HAVE A LIFE! WRITE ABOUT PONIES! ...
Just kidding there! Don't burn yourself out and don't worry about time... with high quality... it's soooo worth the wait! 
Dundundun
Wonder why it took me so long to read this... damn this is a great story. This is up there is Past Sins my friend.
The writing is great, the story telling is excellent, the character are good as well. While I may have my own thought on the Discordant Era, yours give me much to think about and perhaps things to consider.
Also I have a feeling that there is more to Celestia that is shown right now.
In the Name of Her Serene Majesty Celestia Everfree
Celestia's Paladin: For Honor and Duty, For the Sun and Moon
With this update, So close to the last and so good... I feel spoiled.
Does this mean that I should request less before I become spoiled rotten on updates?
Nope, keep it up!
1297435
So intense!!
1299132 1299986
That said, this chapter has been written for a good week and a half, and it was bound to release sooner, except I decided what is now know as "Chapter 15" needed to be split into two parts. Didn't want the Reverie's whole spiel to be seen from a mile away. Plus, "part 2" (aka Chapter 16) is a lot... more intense. If you can imagine that. If that's even possible. *ponyshrug.jpegasus*
Haha! Thing is, I have less of a life than one might think. I actually do have the good fortune to write every day!
It's more important, at least. Get hype!
1299704
). I really do try. Here's to hoping I can keep it up!
Thanks for reading! And it's a great honor to be compared with such a popular fic (even though I haven't read it yet
1300650 I'M GETTING HYPED!!! HYPED!!!
...right... now I'm really getting hyped...
1301783
Really? You're disgusted with me?
However, before you are gone forever, please allow me to say some things in my defense.
I meant to leave it ambiguous as to whether or not she died, but you're right, there are some strong implications that Celestia killed her. This is not some situation that I accidentally wrote myself into.
I'll point out that the reason for the short update time on this chapter is that it was already written. What is currently posted is what I wanted to have happen. Her survival is not some easy cop-out I took to get out of a corner I wrote myself into. If that were the case, why would I? That'd make for some great character development! Unfortunately, that's not how things have to happen for the story to progress in the way I want it to, both the overarching plot, and Celestia's character development.
And, admittedly, I'm not the greatest planner in the world, but changing things one chapter in advance? I've got an outline, and I'd have to be just plain dumb to do something like that. That's why I have editors check me for mistakes, because believe it or not, I've written myself into far greater, far more important corners than this, corners that I've already pulled out of gracefully, and corners so far down the road, I can barely see them on the horizon.
In any case, thank you for commenting. I'm always willing to learn, and I don't mind being called out on mistakes, or things people find irritating. Thanks for reading this far into the story. Perhaps I can recapture your attention some day.
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One very common misconception is that is someone is being choked out is that once they go limp they are dead. Not true, it is a falsification by many authors, movies, and video games. They passes out from lack of oxygen, it takes a lot more than that to kill someone.
1302690 I am aware of that, you fool. I don't need people to tell me what I already know.
Secondly, I never back down. I stand by my comment, and I will never be persuaded to do otherwise.
Good day to you sir!
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1307060
"Golly! What an asshole!"
...Yeah, I'm not just gonna leave it at that.
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Okay, so let's break this down:
First off, several other commenters were on the fence about Obsidian's death or downright thought it implausible. I saw you arguing with them. So, you were the one who was wrong. Is your ego so incredibly massive that you're going to take that out on the person responsible for your being wrong, the author?
Second, story wise, given the way the plot does proceed from here, Obsidian's death would create an absolute clusterfuck and screw up any and all plans for following events. "Oh, man, I'm totally going to have the main character kill someone at a whim because character development, yay!" Yeah, real good story telling
Just because an author does not go the direction or make the choices that you would does not make them a bad author.
And you know what? This is a fanfiction site. Why do you demand such extreme quality high quality from this place? Yes, low quality work is never enjoyable, but you're acting like you're a book critic for the New York Times or some shit (feel free to tell me if you are, that would actually be pretty funny). And even with your ridiculous standard, this is a damn good story (imho). It's better than some published works I can think of *coughihatetogofortheeasytargetbuttwilightsagacough*
Now, from an in-story logic perspective, Celestia strangled Obsidian until she appeared to be dead (which, you certainly would go limp and appear dead after being strangled, which you already acknowledged)! That means Celestia was perfectly ready and willing to kill the princess (regardless of why she was willing to). Not to mention that she is going to have to deal with the fact that she TRIED to and ALMOST DID kill somepony! And who even knows how long until Celestia finds out Obsidian is still alive? I certainly don't, but Moose does.
Not to mention she did just strangle a royal in front of many other royals/officials. Read: CONSEQUENCES
I can't help but wonder why you ever liked this fic in the first place if you were put off so strongly by something so incredibly petty and relatively non-vital to the plot (Does that count as spoilers? Sorry, Moose). Did not strangling a princess to death kill your mom or something? Sheesh.
I don't know why I'm even typing this. You already said you are too stubborn to be convinced that you may be wrong, regardless of whether you ARE right or wrong. Probably just to vent my anger and defend Moose.
Hell, I wouldn't be surprised if you pointed out a typo in this comment just so you could brush it off as completely incorrect.
Which drives me to my final point: what an incredible prick you are.
Why, why, WHY did you even bother to comment that? Moose
looses watchers all the timehas lost watchers before, but he gains more than he loses, so hey. Not a one of them ever told him they were unwatching, and certainly not why. Now, you, I can see that you want to write it of as "constructive criticism" or some shit, but I call bull, um, shit. While you did point out something you believe he did wrong, you did not attempt to give any advice on what he can do to fix it (nor did you express any interest in watching him try and correct the "mistake"). Now, I may be paraphrasing, but you basically said "I expected her to die, you could have gotten some character development out of this, you don't know how to write a story [whoa! logic jump!], I'm unwatching you." Not to mention your severely dickish and absolutely unnecessary "Game Over. You Lose" bit.You're disgusted with the author, I'm disgusted with you. You seriously haven't the slightest idea of what's next to come in this story, and you dismiss it entirely over your own misprediction. If I don't know better, I'd think you were a troll.
Hell, you made author apologize ( 1302520 ) to you and you're still gonna be a dickbag to him. Now that's blonking rich.
Am I aware that you may not have even read this far into my comment. Yes.
Am I aware that I may have swayed your opinion slightly, but drove you off by insulting you? Yes, and I don't care.
I mostly just wanted to let you know you're an asshole.
Asshole.
Gosh, I hope that's all I had to say, a second comment would appear quite silly(Sorry, Moose, if you didn't want this type of material on your comments page, and feel free to delete, but freaking
)
Oh, um, anyone else reading this, feel free to leave (positive) criticism for Moose any time! I promise not to try and tear you a new one
1307216 And what makes you think that you have the right to defend Moose? He didn't ask you to do so, so why have you taken it upon yourself to do so? I'm content to leave it as it is, put it's people like you that feel they have some sort of obligation to fight someone else's battles for them, out of a misguided sense of "righteousness". You seem to be attempting to prolong an argument that has already ended. In fact, it wasn't even an argument in the first place. You turned it into one by getting yourself involved when there was no need to. And then you resort to directing insults at me, which is pathetic in it's self, and I actually find it incredibly amusing. And besides...
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In all seriousness, you're just prolonging the argument. Just leave it, I really can't be bothered arguing with you incompetent morons.
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He was the first and still is the foremost editor for my story. He helped me create the outline for it (and by helped, I mean almost did it entirely by himself when I asked him to). He's also my best friend. His argument carries the validity and weight that comes with that. He has the "right" to say whatever he pleases in my comments section (barring spoilers; I'm watching you, CD). As does anyone, honestly. Even if Cheesedork wasn't these things, it wouldn't matter -- you don't need to be that kind of insightful to know absurdity when you see it. Any sense of "misguided" righteousness is fine by me, so long as it is indeed righteousness.
And you're right, there was no argument to begin with. He's telling you why you were in the wrong, on every, single, level. Even better, it all makes perfect sense. Which is why your response seems to be nothing more than, "Why did you say stuff? Stop saying stuff. *unrelated picture*" rather than an actual defense of your own actions.
In any case, please, no more. If you really can't be bothered arguing with us incompetent morons, then we can definitely let this be the end of it. If you would like to talk further, feel free to PM me. I would actually love to chat, if you want to voice any honest opinions about my fic, or my writing. Or, heck, even just to talk. I don't like burning bridges, and I think friends can still come out of bad situations. I hate it when drama like this happens; it really doesn't belong on a site whose fanbase's motto is "Love and Tolerate." I'd be a hypocrite if I didn't at least try to uphold that.
Just, no more in the comments section, if you please.
I may also just delete this whole drama-fest. Scares away the commenters who have productive things to say.
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Holy snap. You're completely right!
Someone draw a picture of Captain America and Celestia brohoofing, stat!
1307415
You seem to be attempting to prolong an argument that has already ended.
It appears the pot has just called the kettle black.
Oh, and congratulations on your bravery in calling the author out even though a lot of people just lost respect for your opinion due to the obvious attempt to lash out and inflict emotional pain instead of trying to teach and build up an author in a constructive way. That might have taken some ignorance fueled balls to do... to bad it didn't pay off. Oh well, there's plenty of other authors out there to verbally abuse to the point of feeling like crap, right? (Pro tip: In case you didn't notice, we don't mind that you didn't like it but do dislike you when you behave rudely.)
Back to the matter at hand!...
While I do find these bonus chapters to be very informative, they seem to be very jarring to the story and break up the flow of things. I can't really think of a way to remedy this right at the moment and it may actually be the best way to go about it without spoiling things later on but if you can think of a better way to link the information together organically, it would make great strides in making the story that much better.
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Thanks for reading! But you're right, it does seem to break up the flow a bit, and I have been trying to think of ways to not do that. Problem is, there's a loooooot of events that happened before the story began, and I'm not sure how to get to them in any other way. I don't wanna do too much exposition (a la Chapter 3), 'cause that's just boring, I think. We'll see what happens, I 'spose. Thanks for the suggestion.
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So long as you're curious, I will say this: the more criticism one receives, the easier it does get. However! As I continue writing my story, I become more and more invested in its quality and success, so criticism seems to becomes more personal. It's a trade-off, and I still find myself needing to take a step back to know that it's nothing personal. Worry not, though; I welcome all types of criticism, whether it be feel-good or eye-gouging.
(Though, I will say, not all feel-good criticism is useless. On the contrary, when people tell you what you're doing right in addition to the wrong, you can focus more on improving the good, while shying away from the bad. I like it when people tell me when I've done good on something, it keeps me on the right track!)
All of the stuff you pointed out is definitely valid, and they're things I'm trying to work on. The story does tend to drag in places, just because I've never really written a novel length anything, so I'm still working on pacing and such. And the symbolism... well, I liked that part, darn it!
Nah, you're right, it was a bit schmaltzy, but hey, I'm trying.
Anyways, thanks for reading, and thanks for the commentary!
(P.S. I don't know how comments work between chapters. Freakin' fimfic, man!)
Wow, I was really getting into the story there with Celestia getting all epic up in there and was only slightly disappointed when I saw that this was an additional research chapter and I half considered skipping it just so I could get back to the big show that was bound to happen in the courtroom. Sure am glad I didn't. You sir, did an excellent job at creeping the shit outta me
That's a scary thought. If you seem different one day, that could carry a death sentence. Though properly applied, that does seem like a reasonable response to being at war with an enemy who can corrupt anypony into an agent of his side, when curing them was so difficult. But I wonder if Twi caught the full implications of this sentence?
Or Tia could just give it away. Thanks a lot, Tia. You take all the fun out of everything.
In the show, we see Discord profane the mane 6 via guile and trickery, with the exception of Fluttershy, with whom he resorts to brute force. Knowing that his power was severely weakened at the time, it's no great stretch to assume now he could brute force profane anyone he wanted to.
Now we see a profaning at full strength, and it's terrifying. Terrifying to the point where it's practically cheating; who could honestly stand up against that torture? Which once again brings up the question, why doesn't he do this more often?