“So many injuries, so little time.”
Who said that?
Wait, I must be waking up. Odd, I should be in more pain than this. Looking to my sides, I peered a cask on one of my hooves, and a fusion in the other.
Guess I was treated while being unconscious, that’s good.
“Ah, you’re awake,” the voice sounded, I turned my head toward it only to be blinded by a strong light.
I grumbled in irritation, whomever was talking immediately took the light away, “Apologies for that champ, needed to see your reflexes, which seem fine to me.”
Am I in the presence of someone from the medical field? I can’t tell, the light left a lot of shadows in my vision, “No, it’s fine,” I said while standing up.
“Oh, you can speak!” the medic exclaimed. Is that something truly surprising? I guess I should have expected it; I mean, I am still a talking black, carnivorous, chitin covered war horse apparently; even I’d be surprised if I can talk as well. “That would make things much easier,” he resumed.
However, I should be surprised by the fact that he didn’t send me to the dissection table yet, I mean it’s not every day a talking wing horse appeared out of nowhere; unless he is a UFO cultist, veterinarian, person that will worship me; but I don’t want to be worshiped, I want to prove something to be scientifically valid.
…
What the hell am I thinking? Most likely I am still hallucinating, and everything will be cleared the moment I get my vision back together.
I addressed the healer, “Thank you for the treatment,” Not good, trying to stand shouldn't be this hard, what the hell happened for me to feel so weak? “Might I ask your … name…?”
What on earth, heaven, and hell is happening here?
“You can call me doctor Loveheart, mister purple changeling,” the talking horse spoke with a Scottish accent, not that I can distinguish, I’m not even an English speaker myself.
“Uhhhhh,” I think being aghast is an appropriate response in this situation; anyone would brain freeze in my situation, would they?
“Looks like you know the medical drill too, how fortunate!” He cheered as he grabbed a spatula with his mouth then placed it in mine.
Shifting the light on his head, he focused on my mouth, “No signs of blood or trauma in there, mouth and upper respiratory system are fully functional,” returning the spatula to his coat, he took out he stethoscope and placed it on my heart,"Lets check the old drumroll shall we?"
That... was impossible, “How did you do that?”
I need to know.
“How do I do what?”
“Grab things with your hoof,” I mean it’s just not physically possible to use a hoof in such a manner, neither the bone structure of the hoof nor the friction of fur can replace the fully evolved hand with opposable thumbs.
“Oh that?” he gave me a hearty laugh, “You just grab it like this,” he lifted the stethoscope and rotated it his grip for me to fully explore it’s functioning.
Fascinating to say the least.
No matter how I look at it, it is still impossible for the stethoscope to be held like that. Yet it is held there with the same firmness of a hand grip.
I stretch my hand, hoof instinctively, but a sharp pain stopped it near my chest.
The doctor shook his head, “You were already injured enough as it is, whatever possessed you to throw a bed over it?”
“I thought I was under a hallucinogen,” well, no need to hide the truth is there?
“I gave you a few pain relievers, but nothing that strong, could it be that they did not mix well with your anatomy?” The doctor muse brought something to my attention, “perhaps I should revise your medication.”
“I highly doubt that normal medication would cause such severe adverse effect doctor,” I stated blandly, “I simply overreacted to an unfamiliar situation, nothing major.”
“You overreacted by smashing your hoof with a bed?” The doctor deadpanned. Okay, that definitely wasn't my brightest plan, “What are you? A masochist?”
I gave the good doctor a nervous laugh, “No,” I answered with a headshake, “No, just randomly prone to do the extremes,” the doctor shared my chuckles. I decided to pressure him on the notion I picked up on, “Though, if I may ask, what do you mean ‘did not mix well with my anatomy? Have you ever treated one of my kind before?”
“Oh, I have,” his reply was self-assured enough, “It’s just that, I... never really treated your type before,” why the sudden apprehension though? “All the other changelings had bluish carapace, with blue to green eyes, they were smaller though not by much, and they had a different set of wings and a different horn, nothing like yours… before they broke.”
Hm, well I think I kinda figured out that my wings and horn were broken, though that confirmed it, I have wings and a horn, not sure what to make of that.
“So this variety you described, does it represent the majority of the changeling population that lives here?”
“No,” huh, the doctor seems to be fidgeting a lot, wonder what’s putting him on edge, “Actually they are the majority of changeling that invaded this city not three days ago,” Okay, this has just complicated things further than expected, “And all the changelings I treated are actually prisoners from this invasion,” That makes sense, “And unfortunately, you are one of them.”
I am what now?
“I fear they are going to take you back to the dungeon after this checkup.”
Bummer.
“Won’t there be amnesty to someone who lost his memory?” I asked sheepishly.
“Really?” The doctor looked surprised at first, but then he changed into a more sympathetic gaze, “I should expect no less, since you were found smashed head first into one of the city’s walls.”
Wow, how is that even possible?
“I fear you just have to make your case when your trial comes in,” the doctor continued.
A trial huh, I never trusted the judiciary system before, although it’s not like it had failed me or not, but it had always been a gut feeling; I definitely need to probe the doctor for more information on the matter.
“So how many trials have the system conducted since the invasion began?”
“Oh tons, after we defeated your queen with the might of our captain of the royal guard and the love princess, a lot of the changelings were captured alive trying to scurry through the mega spell of their love. No offence.”
…
Okay, he mentioned captain of the royal guard and a princess, so I am most likely in a monarchy system where apparently the princess defeated the invasion with a love spell? That also means that the invasion is over and they are cleaning up afterward.
“None taken, though it must have been hard on the local changelings to be forced into choosing sides between their invading brethren and the local populace.”
“What local changeling?” the doctor added bombastically, “For most of our history we didn’t know the changelings even existed, but we showed those little buggers what true Equestrian might looks like.”
Let’s see, the lack of local changelings indicates a lack of perspective, which means those who will trial me lack the requirements of empathy; in other words, I won’t be able to appeal to their emotions for long, I’ll have to rely on logic this time.
From his boasting, and the lack of personal impute, I can tell that he is echoing the mood of his people, which from the looks of it, isn’t on my side.
If I am going to take everything I have learned from this short conversation, I should conclude that the trial I am facing will most likely be a mock trial, biased, and probably breaks every international law there is; in other words, I am most likely to receive the same judgment as the rest of my kin.
“So I’m guessing that a lot of the mines are now filled with workers, huh?”
“More like unmarked graves on the outskirt of Canterlot,” the doctor jested with a broad smile that immediately vanished the moment he saw my expression, “Is something the matter?” he asked out of concern, immediately putting his hoof on my head to gauge my temperature.
Only one thought kept running through my head, I should not overreact; if I am to get out of this alive, I should remain calm and assess my situation correctly.
And to do that I must absolutely, imperatively, NOT overreact.
Great, we have a little context now of the main character situation, and predictably, seeing his changeling status, is dire to say the lest. I find it odd that Doctor Purple Heart seem to show actual concerned for his changeling patient just after admitting that all the changeling have been put to death, and seem not to make the connection with his patient's concerns and the former mention of the changeling probable fate awaiting him. All doe I find the Equestiane hatred for the Changelings perfectly justifiable, I find It odd that they are just put to death like that, and not just put in an interment camp for P.O.W.. Is it because they they are put down because there is no way known way to reliably contain them and there shape changing magic? Or is it that they can only be sustain by love emotion that they just die out from starvation and that the Equestien can't or wont provide the nutrients they need. On the other hand they mite just die off because they have a have a magical compulsion to die if they are not in the range of a queen after a certain amount of time.
I also wander how the other changeling act on there own, in the DWI comics there level of intelligent varies greatly from drone to drone from horribly bad actor that can't even imitate a pony very well to very conning enough to sow discord in a group. That is if you are using the comic as a reference and make your own rules.
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Wow, that is a big reply...
First of all thank you for your reply, I'm very happy that you are enjoying this story in so far (given that it is the first ever human in Equestria story)
I'm not going to comment on the how's and the why's of the story because I want to avoid unnecessary spoilers as well as avoid unwanted expectations which I may change if they don't fit in the story later on.
However I am going to comment about this particular part mainly because I based a lot of this story on that particular issue of IDW comic.
I am not sure how the writers of that comic aimed for it, but I think there is a hierarchy in changeling society, the strong and the successful are far more dangerous than the normal workers who can't imitate a single pony, this is something I am going to explore in this story. (in a ratehr surprising way might I add)
that starting line...so many injuries, so little time...
I hear the voice of Natasha Volkova from Red Alert 3 spoken it...
So many targets, so little time.
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An unintentional RA3 reference? You sir deserve a cookie for finding it
6243230 orig14.deviantart.net/93a4/f/2009/283/7/f/dark_side_has_cookies_____by_takoromisashi.jpg
Main character learns of the prejudice that has happened and now plans on using logic to get out of the situation, Looks like it'll be the first time I'll read a human turned changeling trying to appeal to his case. But I gotta see what happens next.
I wonder if Mr. Human in Equestria is showing above average levels of intelligence for Changelings so far, talking about stuff like injuring himself to see if he's under a hallucinogen. If he is, it'll surely be interesting when he gets to the trial. Unless he freaks out once he sees big big winged horned sun-tattooed talking horse.
protagonist jumps straight to clinically discussing his species in a matter of moments--- even though noone's told him what he is, and he doesn't recognize it in the mirror.
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Idle curiosity is idle.
Well... his bedside manner is rather poor.
Also, the fact that the doctor is also a talking horse seems to have gone unnoticed in spite of the build up of him voicing his assumptions of a human doctor.
which equestrian might? the guards were too incompetent to fend them off,hae stik like spears the most crappy armour i ever saw pretty pink pony princess and her husband did all the work canterlor whould have been lost if swissy didnt became cocky and over confident so were is this so called equestrian might now?
Jesus Christ, the changelings tried to invade Canterlot because they were hungry. They're fucking executing them? That shit's fucked up. That's like sending a beggar to the bloody electric chair. Have you no shame, Celestia? Besides, that is way too harsh a punishment for trying to 'steal' food. Unless we're counting impersonation of royalty as the crime, this shouldn't happen. Scratch that, only one changeling impersonated royalty. Therefore, they shouldn't be executing them.
I know this is pointless, but fuck the bitchy depiction of Celestia in this story. I'd love to show her the new sensation sweeping the nation, but I have no cannons currently.
Yet, Twilight instantly recognized changelings when she saw them.
By getting your asses curbstomped? Cadence did it, not equestrians in general.
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It is possible that those changelings were the ones killed by the love spell (like slammed into walls). Or the captured changelings starved to death much sooner than anyone thought.
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Twilight spends a lot of time researching obscure subjects and so soon after a major victory the populace is likely quite proud of the achievement.
To someone with amnesia, that's rightfully freaking terrifying.
Jesus Christ, at least give them the honor of having a rudimentary mark and name