Chapter 7: Perspectives
Chapter 7: Perspectives
Meadow found herself terrified.
Oh, she had been scared before, but never anything like this. She'd been scared of being hurt, or killed, but those had been simple, transient fears of the moment. Even more persistent fears, such as the worry of being discovered, or of failing the hive, were things she had some degree of influence over. This, however, was a fear for more than just herself. It was an indomitable, existential terror.
It was the city of Manehattan.
Her legs felt weak beneath her, her chest tight, almost strangling her, while her wide eyes scanned over the terrible sight of the city sprawling out before her. It was almost beyond comprehension. Sure, she had heard all the numbers thrown about during their studies in geography, she had heard the rough size of the populations of the various Equestrian cities, but it hadn't prepared her for this. Somewhere around five or six digits, numbers just seem to lose their meaning.
Seeing the vast size of the city made her feel so incredibly tiny and insignificant.
At that moment, every single warning Ceymi had ever pounded into her head was validated. All her doubts were banished. As she looked over the sight, she felt the crushing weight of how horribly true every word had been. The scale of Equestria was beyond anything she had imagined.
The spires of the hive, the grandest structures she had known, were dwarfed by several of the buildings, each reaching up like a monument to Equestrian might. Some were so large that they likely could have housed most of the hive within their expanses. Above the city, something vaguely resembling an elongated egg slowly floated through the sky, easily the size of one of the hive's spires. Hundreds, thousands of other buildings covered the landscape, with countless ponies moving among them. The hive, once seeming so huge and bustling, now seemed insignificant by comparison.
And this was only one city, of many.
If Equestria were roused to fight, the hive would be crushed. It didn't matter that these ponies were soft. The hive's soldiers could kill a dozen ponies each and more for each of their own that fell, and it wouldn't be enough. Equestria would hardly even feel the sting.
Meadow wanted to just stop there. No, she wanted to run and hide, to never again see the visual manifestation of the doom that hung over her, threatening everything she knew.
But she couldn't. As tempting as it was to flee, as much as she could reason that it was a risk for a poorly-trained and isolated Infiltrator to enter such a dangerous situation, it had to be done. She had to go in there, establish herself, put her training to use. If she could not handle this, then she had no right to even think that she could be an Infiltrator.
At least, if things were to go bad, she could try to fire-portal away. If she couldn't... well, she understood now why Ceymi had asked if they were willing to give up their lives to protect the hive.
The thought calmed her, a resolve growing to displace the fear.
She would keep the hive safe.
On shaky hooves, she walked toward the city.
Just stay calm. I can do this.
Despite her own reassurances, repeated many times over, Meadow could not calm her nerves. There were so many ponies here. She was still on the outer edges of the city, and the streets were filled with colorful ponies trotting about on their daily business. She instinctively tried to keep her distance, but the sheer numbers made that all but impossible. Every time she moved aside for one pony, she nearly ran into two others, making the situation even worse. Already, she was finding it hard to act calm and collected. Her head was tucked down, ears pinned back, eyes roaming wildly around the crowd.
Any one of them could be the one to see through my disguise, she thought. There're so many of them, how can I hope to deceive them all? Tricking one pony could be challenging enough. Hundreds of ponies, though? Each with their own ways of thinking, each with their own knowledge, each requiring a slightly different manner of handling? These were no foals, like in the orphanage, and here she was, walking into a giant crowd of them. Thousands upon thousands of ponies, all around her, through every minute of the day. Thousands of pairs of eyes, each one looking for any flaw in her act...
Keep calm. Think. Plan.
That thought, as good as it was, was shattered as a stallion she hadn't noticed bumped into her. She jerked back, giving a reflexive hiss. At least, it would have been a hiss, but in her current state of barely-restrained panic, it came out as a loud whine. The pony looked at her, his expression curious... for about all of a second, before he had passed her completely, his attention turned back to his travels.
Meadow shuddered, quickly shuffling off to take refuge in the gap of an alleyway. Her legs quivered faintly from the adrenaline coursing through her, her heart pounding loudly in her ears. Slightly removed from the crowd in the street, she leaned wearily against the wall, taking deep, calming breaths.
As she did, she watched the ponies from a distance, not as individuals, but as a crowd, a herd. The purposeful shuffle, the stream of ponies flowing like water, it had a vaguely calming effect. Viewed from such a perspective, there was a strange sense of familiarity to it all. All those ponies, traveling back and forth, hundreds, thousands of them all flowing through Equestria, working together, there were certainly parallels that she could draw to the hive--even if the scale was vastly different. It was just enough familiarity to offer a hope of comfort for her nerves, which she clung to eagerly.
When she felt a little more clear-headed, she began to consider herself. How should she proceed?
Her training, as incomplete as it had been, readily offered up an answer. When acting away from the hive, particularly when infiltrating a community, there were priorities. The final goal was typically to be the focus of as much positive emotion as possible, particularly love, so as to bring that energy back to the hive, but one had to get there first. Some operations, particularly by more experienced Infiltrators, could move swiftly, but a more cautious approach--and Meadow was feeling cautious!--started much more simply.
Survival.
Everything else could work upward from there, but ensuring survival was crucial. Fortunately, it was also a fairly easy task. Basic survival consisted of only a few, simple needs. The most immediate need was simple: Sustenance. Water and food. The former was so commonly available as to be little concern. Physical food was also easy. If nothing else, she could go to that park she had seen on the way in, or one like it, and munch on some leaves.
That just left emotional food. That was the one thing she absolutely needed, and that made it the highest priority. Fortunately, she still had plenty of energy from the orphanage, and the half-day walk from Mareville to her current location in Manehattan hadn't taken much out of her. So long as she was light on the magic, she'd be good for a few weeks.
At least she wouldn't need very much. Assuming she could make a friend by then, she would be able to draw enough affection to sustain herself.
So, food is the number-one priority. What comes next?
After basic survival came elements that were not quite as necessary for life, but which would serve to help establish herself and aid in her hunting. Better food, shelter, some of the many luxuries these ponies took for granted. To get those, she needed money. To get money... she needed a job.
She huffed out an annoyed breath. It was still tempting to see "working for ponies" as a blow to her pride, but she at least recognized it as a means to an end. With all those little extras, she could bring up her social standing, increase her desirability, and if all went well, gain more friends and affection.
Then, after she had herself established, had developed and demonstrated her skills... then she could try to find her way home. She could return, proud of her accomplishments, having shown that she has the skill needed to serve the hive.
So. First step: make a friend. It was a simple plan. All she needed to do was socialize with some ponies, use her well-trained charm and manipulation to convince them to give her their friendship, and enjoy the well-earned meal.
There was only one problem with that plan.
How do I start?
At the orphanage, it had been easy; there were a good number of foals there, all condensed into one area, most of whom enjoyed simple games. It made it easy to engage them, having a common interest. For adults, however, she had no idea what interests they might have, or in what settings they tended to socialize.
Watching the crowd didn't help. Few of the ponies said much of anything, though some would occasionally stop and chat for a bit before continuing on, or call out greetings as they passed.
A bulky-looking stallion just down the street seemed to be one of the more commonly-greeted ponies. He stood at the front of a shop, currently offloading a large variety of boxes from a cart, amid frequent breaks to chat with some of the passing ponies. He certainly seemed to be fairly popular. Such a pony must have a good idea of where and how to meet new ponies. As loath as Meadow was to admit that she could use the help of a pony, she had to acknowledge that it was true.
Taking a few moments to plan her attack, and waiting for a small break in the crowd, she approached the pony.
"Excuse me," she said politely, and he, holding a box in his forelegs, looked back over his shoulder to see the young unicorn standing there. "I'm new to town, and I'm not really sure where everything is just yet. Do you know of any good places here to socialize?"
"Uhh," was his immediate reply, echoing the uncertainty she felt in his emotion. Setting down the box, he turned to face her more squarely. "Well, uh, I'm not sure about places for a young filly, to tell the truth."
Well, that's not helpful. "I'm not that young," she objected. "Surely you know some places? Don't you have any places you go to socialize?"
He gave an awkward shrug. "Well, most of the time I meet ponies here, where I work."
Curiously, there was something in his tone and emotion that hinted to Meadow of evasiveness. "Only most of the time?"
He hesitated a moment before replying. "Well, when I'm not handling the store, sometimes I'll hit the Sweetfire Pub." He gestured vaguely with a hoof, then quickly added, "But I doubt that's what you're looking for."
That's better than any other option I have right now, she thought. Even if it did prove as unsuitable as the stallion seemed to think it was, it might give her a better idea of what adult ponies did for social activities. Running blind could only lead to trouble.
It took a bit of effort, but she eventually coaxed directions out of the reluctant stallion and was on her way. Having had the chance to calm down and observe the crowd, the number of ponies wasn't quite as daunting as it had been. There were plenty of gaps for her to weave her way through the crowd without getting too close to anypony, although she did have the strange new experience of her fur standing on end, which seemed to be a physical response to nervousness. It was possibly more subtle than anxiously buzzing one's wings, as she might have been doing at that very moment had she been in her natural form, but this pony response felt much stranger.
Regardless, she was happy to step into the pub and leave the crowd behind. That happiness faded immediately, however, when she saw that inside was the polar opposite of outside; while the streets had dozens of ponies wandering about, the pub was almost empty, and certainly not what she would consider "social." Two stallions sat at tables on opposite ends of the small room, both looking very much not talkative, while a mare stood behind a long counter, cleaning some mugs. It was an almost depressing scene.
Maybe the other ponies were scared off by the flaming mug painted on the sign outside. As far as drinks went, she didn't think fire would be very refreshing.
Or maybe it's so empty because she was still in the outskirts of the city? Perhaps a pub in the heart of the city would have more ponies, and by extension, more opportunities for her?
Lacking any better ideas, she hoped that was the case.
An hour more of walking saw her in a much different part of the city. Unlike the outskirts, which had been at least somewhat like the towns she had been in before, the center of the city was growing increasingly dense and vertical. The structures were still all in that strange, blocky, pony style of architecture, but now many of them towered over the street. They weren't as tall as some of the massive towers further on, yet some were still comparable to the hive's spires, although much broader.
It didn't take long to find another pub, ‘Wheatstalk's Pub’ according to the sign, which was also decorated by a pair of (non-flaming) mugs. Unlike the previous pub, it even had windows, glowing softly in the slowly dimming light of the evening. So far, this one looks more promising.
As she stepped inside, the impression held. It was easily twice the size of the other pub, and while not completely filled with ponies, it was much further along the way to it, and the ponies seemed much more social and happy. That was good; unhappy ponies might be won over by sympathy, but jovial ponies tended to be friendly without any effort needed.
She carefully made her way into the room, aiming for one of the unoccupied chairs along the long counter, and seated herself with a slight groan. She hadn't quite realized how tired her hooves were, and she grumbled silently to herself about how soft she was getting to feel sore after little over half a day of walking. She was just making a mental note to change up her exercise routine when the light-tan earth pony stallion behind the counter approached her.
"Can I get you something to drink?" he asked, the sensation of his concern suddenly hitting her senses. He seemed suspicious of her, for some reason. Or perhaps suspicious was too strong, more like... worried?
She glanced over to the side, noting that several of the other ponies had drinks. Her eyes darted over the various signs behind the counter, including many hoof-written drink names. Immediately seeing one she recognized, she said, "Cider?"
"We got a couple. You want Big Apple or Hard Luck Cider?" he asked, concern growing a touch stronger.
She blinked. "Um... I... don't know? What's the difference?"
"Big Apple, then," he said, suddenly amused for some strange reason. As he grabbed a mug, he added, "That'll be three bits."
Ah, right. He wasn't some host entertaining ponies, this was like one of those "restaurant" things, where ponies bought prepared food. "Oh, um, I actually don't have any bits on me."
The stallion stopped midway through getting her drink. Setting the mug back down, he sighed and folded his forelegs on the counter. "Look, miss, you're cute and all, but I'm not running a charity. Can't you get a few bits from your parents or something?"
"My mom's dead."
She hardly realized what she had said before she felt the shock go through the stallion. She decided to attribute it to instinctive manipulation rather than simply being an unthinking reply, a little lie to herself made much easier by his startled reaction. "O-oh. I... What about your--" He cut himself off, evidently thinking better of what he was about to say. "I mean, do you have any kind of guardian taking care of you?"
She almost asked why she would need a guard until she recalled Crimson Heart having used the term before. "Oh. No, I can take care of myself."
"Of course you can," he said, eyes closed as he rubbed a hoof against the bridge of his nose, evidently finding some frustration with what she had said, though she couldn't imagine why. "Surely you have a job, then, so you can get money to buy food and drink with?"
"No," she answered, hesitantly. "I was actually planning on looking for a job."
She was answered with a deeper sigh, the stallion grinding his hoof a bit harder against his own face. "Please tell me you have a place to stay."
"Oh, of course," she lied, not wanting to upset the strangely-concerned pony.
He was silent now, apart from a few quiet murmurs of what sounded to be ‘stupid,’ paired with the light clopping sound of him gently thumping his hoof against his head. Ponies have such weird methods to express frustration, she thought. It must be hard, having to physically demonstrate your emotions to make up for being unable to sense them. Potentially painful even, it seems...
After a few moments of this, the stallion groaned a little, letting his hoof fall back to the counter as a resigned feeling faintly radiated from him, mirrored by the drooping of his ears. "Alright. I'm not running a charity, but... oh Celestia, I hope this isn't a mistake. Look." He fixed her with his eyes, expression and feelings a curious mix of both annoyance and sympathy. "I can't afford to hire a new employee, and I don't need one, but I might be able to find you a little work. Not much, an hour or so a night doing whatever I can find for you, paid with a meal and maybe a few bits extra. That sound good?"
She smiled. "That sounds perfect!" Half a day and I've already got a job. I'll be set in no time!
"Okay then. But I do expect you to actually work. Don't make me regret this, okay?"
"I won't!" she assured him. "I'm a very hard worker."
He considered her for a few moments before letting out a low sigh. Filling the mug, he set it down before her. "So what's your name, anyway?"
"Meadow Song," she replied, before clutching the mug in her hooves and taking a long drink of the delicious cider.
"Mine's Sunshine Wheatstalk," he replied, which made her look at him curiously. That's a strange name. I mean, I think it is. It sounds like two ponies collided and got their names stuck together.
Evidently noticing her curiosity, the stallion rolled his eyes. "It's a family thing," he said, to which she just gave a simple nod. "Anyway, enjoy the cider. I'll, um... I'll let you know when I figure out something for you to do."
He walked off, mumbling to himself, while Meadow just smiled happily. This was going well.
The evening was a unique mixture of opportunities and awkwardness. The pub quickly grew busier as the time grew later, and once the sky was dark, the place was rather packed with ponies, the air filled with a din of conversation. There were so many that she would have her pick of who to approach.
This led to the first point of awkwardness: how to approach them. Observation did little to help. With all the noise, she couldn't listen in on conversations without being obvious, and she couldn't tell if any pony greeting another was already an acquaintance, or if they were meeting for the first time. Still, she needed to try something, and lacking any better idea of how to proceed, she decided to start simply--by walking up to a seemingly-receptive pony and saying "hello."
She found it somewhat shocking how effective such a simple method proved to be. The ponies she had approached, a pair of young pegasi stallions, both greeted her happily. After making introductions, they soon started chatting, evidently happy to spend time talking with a stranger. She had little knowledge of what to talk about, but thankfully they solved that themselves when they started talking about sports. That made it almost too easy. She mentioned having played a little bit as a filly, and how she had always been interested in learning more, and the two launched into an enthusiastic description of the games they liked the most and the recent sporting events. All she had to do was ask a few general, easy questions, maybe offer a flattering comment or two, and they were happy to talk on and on.
When they had left, she found her way into the company of a well-groomed unicorn mare, who was evidently looking to relax after a long day of work. With just a small expression of sympathy, she got her talking about that work, dealing with various tasks at the city hall. It soon developed to a full grumbling rant about all the chaos there, the constant appeals for official action, often directly contradictory to other appeals, and all other manners of government. Meadow, with only a rudimentary knowledge of government beyond "do what the Queen says," could do little but offer sympathy. Despite the strength of the ranting, the mare's mood improved by the moment, a soft affection growing as Meadow listened to her problems.
After that, she tried mixing things up a bit. The next pony she talked with, a particularly strong-looking earth pony mare, Meadow echoed some of the earlier conversations, hoping to be more interesting as a result. It worked wonderfully for the discussion of sports, which seemed to be an interest the earth pony shared. That took a sharp dive when she repeated some of the matters of government she had heard earlier. The mare seemed outright offended, firing back several sharp questions that Meadow had no answer for. Meadow offered the excuse that it was "just something I had heard," but the earth pony replied just as Meadow would have to someone offering such a poor reason, saying that she shouldn't just repeat things she had no understanding of. She also followed up by bringing up several pieces of information that Meadow, ears drooping as she shuffled awkwardly, had to admit she had not known of.
Meadow ended up apologizing before walking away, somewhat ashamed of her failure. After seeing how readily friendly ponies could be, it was rather embarrassing to have so thoroughly upset one. Right, don't talk about politics, she thought as she slipped away to the back of the pub. At least not until I have some idea of what politics are...
Despite that one awkward moment, most of the night went well. She socialized with other ponies, most of whom were quite friendly. Still, she did feel a little out-of-place. Most of the ponies here were getting drinks, and some even had food and snacks. Her cider was long gone, and she did not yet have the bits to get more. One particularly friendly mare had gotten her another cider, but that hadn't lasted long. She eventually caught Wheatstalk and quietly asked him for a mug of water, just so she'd look like she fit in more. He had rolled his eyes in reply, but she caught the hint of amusement as he fetched the drink for her.
Armed with the prop, she felt a little more at ease. At the very least, she wouldn't have to repeat the explanation of how she didn't have any bits to pay for a drink. Judging from Wheatstalk's earlier reaction, being without money was a bad thing.
As the night went on, Wheatstalk did follow through on finding her some work to do. It wasn't much, cleaning a few dishes one time, carrying out a few drinks when he was too busy another time. It did get in the way of socializing, a bit, but only infrequently. In a way, it actually seemed to help a little. Carrying out the drinks let her introduce herself to a few more ponies, who were quite happy to chat with her, and for some strange reason, some of the ponies seemed to feel positively about seeing her helping Wheatstalk.
By the end of the night, many hours later, she was feeling quite a bit better about her prospects. The casual affection given to a friendly stranger was hardly filling, but it would sustain her. She even got a decent meal out of the night, and a couple bits. Things were going well.
"Closing time," Wheatstalk called out, starting to usher everypony out. When she tried to protest, he just shook his head. "Flash Fire and I can do all the cleaning up, have for quite a while now. You should go get some sleep." A sudden hint of concern flashed across her senses, and he again asked, "You do have a place to stay, don't you?"
"Of course," she said, with an encouraging smile. She didn't want to upset the pony that was giving her this opportunity, after all.
He continued to stare at her for a couple moments, as if doubting her, but he eventually sighed and nodded. "Well, okay then. Good night, Meadow."
"Good night, Sunshine!" she called back happily as she started to trot off, earning a faint chuckle in reply.
A place to stay...
In the most technical sense, she had not lied to him, which simply made it a particularly good lie. She had actually spotted a place that seemed a decent prospect to stay for the night, if nothing else had presented itself, so what she had said was not untrue. As nothing had, she at least had the satisfaction of knowing her backup planning had been useful.
As she stepped into the alley, however, she knew this was not at all what the pony would consider when asking somepony if they had a place to stay.
She looked around cautiously as she slowly walked deeper into the alley. Only when she was satisfied that she was alone did she look into settling herself there. A few minutes of rearranging boxes and crates left a makeshift shelter. It even had a couple flattened boxes as a sleeping pad. Even as she looked down at it, satisfied with her craft, she couldn't help but feel disappointed that she would be sleeping on the hard ground, out in the cold, instead of tucked into a nice, soft, warm bed. Hopefully, she'd be able to sleep well.
The thought was met with a sudden rising anger. Stupid ponies are rubbing off on me, she grumbled to herself as she laid down heavily in her tiny shelter. How soft have I gotten, to whine about this? I've got a private shelter to myself, no drones are going to come stumbling through and wake me up, and the ground isn't any harder than it was in the hive. I'm getting spoiled by these ponies' luxuries.
Maybe it's better that I'm staying here, instead of some cozy, comfy, frivolous pony place. She lay her head down, giving a faint sigh. I can't let myself get used to being a pony. I need to be strong, to endure. This... this is good. Yes. A reminder of what I am: a changeling, an Infiltrator, someling who can easily endure such petty little annoyances.
Then she shifted her position, trying to relieve the uncomfortable pressure on her shoulder. Though it would help if this stupid pony body wasn't so soft and squishy…
After a few days--and a few uncomfortable nights that made her question her own resolution--the elation of her easy early success was wearing off. As much as she reminded herself that her familiarity with pony luxury was leaving her soft, she couldn't help but feel a bit of embarrassment and failure when she snuck off to nibble a few leaves from a bush in the park or took a drink from the sink in the pub's restroom. The one free meal and drink each day seemed less like a nice treat, and more like a reminder of what “should be.” The thought irritated her.
It irritated her almost as much as her lack of progress. She was sustaining herself, but that was all she could claim, and as time went on, the thought grew more prominent in her mind. She didn't dare become complacent; she couldn't bear to let herself down like that, again. Worse than a lack of progress, however, were the signs that she might be regressing, instead. Sure, she hadn't been sleeping well, and sure, the quick cleanings she did in the restroom were well short of proper bathing, but it was still disconcerting. She needed to push herself, to make progress happen.
To that goal, she gathered the small number of bits she had earned and set off for the nearby spa.
As she went, she reminded her guilty conscience that she was doing it for practical reasons. She needed to look her best, in order to give the best impression. Nopony was going to be impressed by a stranger that looked like they had slept in an alley. Ponies have all sorts of strange standards about appearance and presentation, and altogether far too many social rules.
The wonderful feeling of slipping into the warm water of the bath did little to help her mental conflict. It did, however, do wonders for her sore muscles. She settled with comforting her conscience with the fact that she could have lounged there all day, reasoning that a mere half-hour of blissful soaking was showing admirable restraint.
After another half-hour of beautifying in the spa staff's skilled hooves, she felt much more prepared for an evening of winning over strangers. She was clean, perfectly cared for, and beautiful--by the standards of ponies, of course. It was as ideal a situation as she could hope for to impress new friends, and as Ceymi had taught them, even the most delicious love comes from two ponies who once were simply a couple of new friends.
With so much effort--and all her money--put into presenting a good appearance, it was rather disappointing how little of an effect it had. Sure, some ponies seemed a little more receptive of her, initial impressions slightly better than they had been, but it wasn't the great change she had hoped for. There was a compliment or two on her looks, but the conversations largely went as they had before. She did her best to hide her disappointment, reasoning that any improvement, however slight, was good. Despite that, she couldn't help but feel a hit to her pride. Such effort should have a much greater effect on her reception, she thought, so if she made that effort and still ended up lacking...
Her determination waned as the day went on, and by evening she spent most of the time sitting sullenly at the bar, sipping at the evening's cider and distractedly wondering why ponies called the long counter a bar when it resembled nothing of the sort. It kept her mind off more important matters, and while she reminded herself that this was a reason to put in even more effort, she felt the short break was more than deserved.
And that's how it begins, she thought to herself wryly as she took another sip, then grimaced faintly. Oh, stop that. I'm not so weak-willed as to wallow in self-pity all night. I'll just finish this cider, and then I'll get back to it. She took another sip, although a much smaller one, almost as if she had no desire to finish her drink just yet.
"You look like you're not having a very fun evening," a voice said from beside her, and she turned to see a red-coated stallion leaning against the bar. She imagined he must be rather attractive by pony standards, a fit and athletic earth pony, and he was smiling softly to her. "Sorry. It's just kind of surprising to see such a pretty mare looking so sad here."
At least the effort is getting some notice, if nothing more. Despite the slightly bitter thoughts toward the questionable expenditure of her limited funds, she gave a lopsided smile, enough to give the impression of mixed emotions; playing suddenly friendly would probably seem like a jarringly abrupt change in behavior, one that could only raise questions. "Just a little bored and lonely. The night hasn't quite been going as I'd hoped."
"How did you hope it would go?"
She shrugged. "I'd hoped to at least meet somepony to talk with. Socialize, that kind of thing."
He glanced down at himself. "Well, I happen to be somepony, last I checked," he said, giving a slightly goofy smile.
She played along, offering a faint chuckle and smile at the lame joke.
The stallion was holding out a hoof. "So I'm Cherry Runner. What's your name?"
She stifled a grimace, and instead politely shook his hoof. What a ridiculous name. What kind of special talent do you have with a name like that, running produce around town? Did your parents hate you or something? Rather than voicing any of this, she kept her smile even, replying, "I'm Meadow Song." And I've got a better name than you. Hah.
He sat back, oblivious to her thoughts. "So what brings you here?" he asked, his emotions curiously hopeful. It seemed she wasn't the only one hoping to find someone friendly here.
"Well, I was kind of hoping to find some ponies to spend time with," she said. "Maybe make some friends."
That hint of hopefulness grew, even as he looked a little suspicious. "Make some friends? Surely a pretty young mare like you must have plenty of friends already?"
She gave her best impression of faint embarrassment at the flattery, despite being rather annoyed that she did not. "Well, I'm rather new to town. I don't really know anypony here, so it's been kind of lonely." She trailed off, hoping to draw some sympathy. Curiously, he seemed more excited than sympathetic, but interest was interest.
Cherry Runner proved to be easy and entertaining to talk with. He even bought a pair of ciders for them, and they chatted away about all sorts of topics. Sports was the easiest, as he apparently played hoofball himself, and with only a little prompting from her was happy to talk all about it. He might be bragging a bit at how highly he appraised his own skills, but she didn't mind; it obviously made him happy, and happy ponies tended to make the best food.
Their talk was interrupted by some work, passing out a few drinks and cleaning a few dishes that had piled up during the busy evening. She was quite happy when she returned to find him still waiting for her. She must have made some impression on him.
"I didn't know you worked here, too," he said over his mug as she again sat beside him.
"Only a little," she admitted. "Wheatstalk's giving me a bit of work. It gets me a little money."
"Ah," he said, nodding. "And here I thought he was your dad or something."
"Oh, no. He's just..." He's what? she considered. She hadn't really thought too much on it, after all. Ponies were typically easy to figure out, after all. Soft-hearted, easily exploited, generous to a fault... "I think he just wanted to help me out."
"Well that's nice of him," Cherry replied. He seemed strangely happy by this.
Actually, all of his emotions seemed slightly strange, unlike that of the other ponies she had talked with. He had the same happiness at the conversation, but then things differed. He seemed curiously excited by it, while the sensation of affection, normally at least somewhat developed when a pony had this degree of happiness, was still rather weak. She might not be that widely versed in pony behavior just yet, but it still struck her as rather un-pony-like.
Kind of like her own feelings, actually.
The thought slammed home, her eyes widening a bit before she forced herself to act normal, despite her heart suddenly pounding away in her chest. What if...? She eyed him as subtly as she could. What if he seems so unlike the other ponies because he isn't one?
It was such an exciting thought. There were other changelings out there, hidden behind their pony guises. Even to another changeling, a skilled Infiltrator would be impossible to distinguish from a normal pony. It wasn't inconceivable that she could encounter another disguised changeling, one who was attracted to the open, social mingling of the pub for the same reason she had.
Unlike her, however, it wouldn't be a stranded nymph. A fully trained Infiltrator would be completely capable of operating on their own. He would know exactly how to enter Equestria, and of course, how to find his way back to the hive.
Home.
She was almost shuddering with excitement at the possibility. If he was a changeling, everything would be solved. She just needed to establish that he actually was, in fact, a changeling, and let him know that she was, too. Of course, it wasn't so simple as just asking, "So, are you a changeling, too?" While simple and to-the-point, it would make things... awkward, were he to end up being just a strange pony. Fortunately, there were somewhat more subtle ways, including a simple trick Ceymi had taught all of the nymphs, back when they had first practiced their shapeshifting.
Her horn lit up to levitate her mug to her lips again, and at the same time, she flashed her eyes. It was a subtle bit of shapeshifting, letting the magic falter for a moment and let her--his--natural eye color show through for a moment. To a pony, it would look as is her eyes had flickered blue in time with her magic, curious but not alarmingly so, but a changeling would recognize the trick. It was a silent way of signaling another Infiltrator, in case someling were to encounter them in a new, unknown disguise.
"Woah," was the immediate, hushed reaction from Cherry Runner, matched by a faint flash of surprise. She looked to him, eyes wide and ears perked in anticipation.
"...That was kind of creepy," he said. When her ears drooped in disappointment, he suddenly realized what he had just said. "I mean, it's kind of cool, too! Just... a little... different." He smiled awkwardly as he raised his forelegs, holding his hooves just barely apart. "Just a tiny bit."
She gave a weak smile at what seemed to be an attempted joke, in order to hide her disappointment. Of course he's not a changeling, she thought bitterly. That would have been too easy. We can't have that, now...
"Hey, I'm sorry," Cherry said, a little concern entering his feelings. "I didn't mean to... you know..."
She sighed a little, mumbling. "It's just something that happens sometimes when I'm not focusing on my magic."
"Ah, that makes sense," he said with a nod, happily accepting the lie in an attempt to smooth things over.
Meadow took another drink. Ugh, I'm so stupid, she mentally grumbled. There are what, a dozen or two Infiltrators in Equestria, if that? Yet here I am, thinking I just blindly ran into one, and get my hopes up over something so unlikely. I should have known better. Even if his emotions were a little strange, a changeling wouldn't have been feeling even a tiny bit of affection for a pony. I'm such an idiot.
She tried to keep up the conversation, though her heart wasn't in it anymore. Fortunately, Cherry seemed more than capable of keeping it going all on his own, leaving her to just nod and offer a faked smile every now and then, maybe slipping in a little comment of her own. She barely even registered what he was talking about, lost in her own thoughts. I should have known right away. If I hadn't been blinded by my own excitement, I would have seen it wasn't true. I've spent too much time around ponies, I'm used to thinking of everypony--everyone--as being just like them. Half-blind, unable to sense the emotions of the creature they're speaking to, only able to guess off crude mannerisms and expressions. She cast a glance at Cherry, feigning a smile. And here I was, thinking just like them, not even thinking that, if he were a changeling, he'd be able to sense my emotions as well. A changeling couldn't help but notice how excited I got, but him? There wasn't even a glimmer of curiosity, because he didn't even know it happened.
No, the odd emotions aren't because he's a changeling. He's just strange.
Stupid ponies.
She was interrupted from her thoughts by a sudden change in topics.
"Hey, it looks like the place is shutting down soon," Cherry said, moving closer to slip a foreleg around her shoulder. The gesture still drew a sense of displeasure, but the years had tempered it from utter rage and disgust to mere annoyance, particularly with the knowledge that it was a gesture of comfort and friendship. Friendship was, after all, what she was looking for. "You want to head out? We could go to my place, I think you'd like it."
She smiled, and this time it was genuine. "Really? Yes, that sounds perfect!"
Soon they were out in the street, walking toward his apartment. Her pride, so recently crushed by the day's events, was swelling again. She'd just met this stallion a few hours ago, and already made enough of an impression to be invited back to his home. His emotions might be a little strange for a pony--she could work on that, of course--but he must consider her a good friend already.
The thought of potentially spending the night indoors was, despite her concerns of growing soft, a rather pleasant one. I wonder if he has a second bed I could use? she pondered. Or a nice, comfy couch. I could make do nicely with that.
The apartment proved to be quite nice and located in one of the upper floors of a building quite close to the pub. It was a well-furnished place, decorated in warm colors that the ponies seemed to consider comforting--it still held nothing on the grey-and-green motif of the hive, Meadow thought--and she was quite happy to see that it did, in fact, have a good-sized couch.
Cherry gestured to the couch. "Grab a seat. I'll get us a couple of drinks."
She did, reclining back against the soft cushions. Yes, this would do nicely. She grinned happily as Cherry returned, carrying a pair of bottles held in the crook of a foreleg. He sat beside her, again slipping his foreleg around her shoulders. Inwardly, she sighed in annoyance, but she knew it was a sign of affection for ponies, and as such, she slid a foreleg around him, as well. In response, he turned to face her more directly, his other foreleg moving to hug her. It was a little surprising, she hadn't expected him to show so much affection, particularly when the feelings of such she could sense from him were still so weak. Plenty of excitement, but only a fairly weak affection.
The hug was a little strange, too. It wasn't just a simple hold and squeeze, as she had been familiar with. Instead, he was slowly moving his forelegs, his fleshy body rubbing against hers, squishing in ways that made her faintly nauseous to think of. Hugging could be weird enough without such a vivid reminder of just how squishy and disgusting this body could be. She hid a grimace as he leaned in, nuzzling at her cheek. Still, it was a sign of affection, and affection was what she needed. She could endure such strangeness, in order to get those tasty emotions.
Her determination lasted right up until he kissed her.
Cherry was abruptly dumped on the floor, while Meadow scrambled away, sputtering. What in Tartarus was that? she thought, spitting as she staggered away. Ugh, I can still taste it! His tongue! Why was his tongue in my mouth?! She cringed and shuddered at the thought, horror and disgust filling her. The hug, that she could deal with, despite the weirdness of it, but this? The freakishly bizarre sensation clung to her mind, so alien and wrong. It felt unclean, as if it clung to her, a completely unnatural violation of everything good and normal. Why would anypony do that? What is wrong with this pony?
Movement caught her attention as Cherry rose to hurry over to her. Horrified, she staggered a couple more steps away, her legs moving unsteadily under the confusion and near-panic coursing through her mind. "Get back!" she growled, starting to make her way to the door.
Instead, he moved forward again, raising a hoof to reach out to her. "Wait, I'm sorry, I didn't--"
As she saw the hoof reaching out, all the shock and horror and disgust coalesced into an absolute rage.
She spun around, horn flaring with green fire. Her eyes flashed blue as the magic of her shapeshifting wavered faintly under the sheer fury of her anger, and the tones of her--his!--natural voice resonated with Meadow's. "Get back!" she snarled, teeth bared, her glowing eyes narrowed. "If you so much as touch me, I will kill you! I'll set this entire building on fire if I have to, just so I can watch you die an agonizing, fiery death!"
By the time she had finished, Cherry had retreated back to the couch, completely shocked and horrified. She didn't wait for a response; instead, she turned, storming out of the apartment, and nearly breaking the door as she magically slammed it shut behind her. She walked rigidly down the hall, quaking with rage and adrenaline. Several ponies peeked out of their doors to see what the noise was all about, but she ignored them. She spat a couple more times as she passed them by, only to make a disgusted face when it didn't help. She swore she could still taste it in her mouth.
Fuming, she stormed her way out of the building. Her anger and disgust roamed about her mind, but one single thought forced its way to the front:
Ponies. Are. So. Weird.
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Good news, everypony!
Despite being a little... slow getting this chapter out, thanks to holidays and some unpleasantness with unstable sleep schedules (It's amazing how much sensitive creative thought is to sleep deprivation), I now find myself with an abundance of time. With luck, that should mean more frequent updates!
So here's some more of Equestria's most socially ignorant changeling Infiltrator.
Isn't nictis a guy??? And he got kissed.... lol
1919804
hell... he IS in a female form, so its really his own fault.
Beware of the strange mares that you pick up at the bar. You never know what "she" might turn out to be.....
1919646
I find it a bit strange considering the time he (she) spent at orphanage that he (she) didn't learn even the basics of pony social interactions.
Also isn't how government works in like every year since half of primary school.
I mean how much time you can blindly spend scheming to get sustenance given quite secure position?
As said in last chapter he (she) spend there 4 years.
Even books that you are supposed to read contain big and vital fragments of social interactions.
The story is still good and interesting to me but that part just doesn't click well.
Two things.
One, Nictis is starting to lose himself, most specifically by thinking himself as a mare/female
and second, I thought that scene would be waaaaaay darker. Kinda glad it didn't go there. Don't want things to be too dramatic too fast.
1920009
I don't think it's a matter of him "losing" himself, rather a matter of what's easiest for the sake of pronouns. Any time she's in pony form, she's female, and any time he's in his natural form he's male, with all the different identifiers that go with each form. The points where both were used was because, at those moments, he was both. His form was female, but he was letting his natural eyes show, or his natural voice be heard.
I'm laughing out loud, but secretly crying on the inside.
The chapter was funny, but now I have to wait for more...
1919964
He knows many basics of social interactions by now, but he's rather clueless on the specifics, in particular the finer details of what adult ponies do. Going to a pub certainly wouldn't have been the recommended course of action by her teacher in the orphanage, after all! The only adults he's interacted with, with any degree of frequency, had been the staff of the orphanage, and they had common ground. He simply didn't have any practical experience, and needed to figure out how things differ from his previous experience. Mainly, he just needed to know where to find potentially receptive ponies, and how to start things off. As it turned out, it wasn't too much different from what he'd been doing the whole time.
As for government, I don't know why you mention that. He knows the basics.
1920009>>1920033
Yep, Aziraphael got it. He isn't so much "losing" himself as "immersing" himself in the form. One of the earlier lessons was to ingrain any changes, so that they are a natural reflex, rather than something that you have to think of. He thinks of himself as "she" when he's in his Meadow Song form, because it's important to act the role as thoroughly as possible (Plus, with the ability to easily change forms, specifics such as gender and species are expected to change, and usually easier to deal with). Aziraphael is particularly right about the alternating pronouns; it's emphasizing his natural form crossing with his disguise. He's still "her" at that point, but there's elements of "him" slipping past the disguise, as well.
Plus, it seemed weird to refer to "her" natural form, when said natural form wasn't a "her."
Now this is why we love Nictis.
I'm really surprised Nictis/Meadow Song hasn't figured out a better place to harvest love, or at least a haze of unfocused pleasure-- the Spa.
Working at the bar? I keep thinking of the movie Coyote Ugly.
BAHAHAHA!
That, Nictis, is the emotion of lust.
The quote from a NCIS episode comes to mind....
'So Tony, what was it like...tonging another man?'
-Tony promptly leaves room.
Great chapter!
Poor Nictis... Didn't they teach him in the hive that people rarely do anything without a purpose?
Great story, I really can't wait for more!
Oh man
I feel bad for Cherry!
Poor poor Cherry.
What a feeling that would be to think you've insulted/angered someone you just met enough to have them threaten to burn down the building just so you'd die a horrible death... and you'd have NO idea what went wrong... well you might have some idea but the reaction level to the level of what you did just wouldn't seem to match up.
Also I have to say I'm loving the cross-culture stuff that our changeling friend is having to deal with. Of course now I want to see when/how he learns about kissing and other... intimate... things adult ponies do.
Also you've gotten me kinda excited for this story again and I don't wanna wait again for the next chapter!!
Ah, heck. Please keep up the good work!
...damn...
"Dafuq? Was that mare actually... some crazy transexual?"
[youtube=qdwURyIqkgc]
1919646 - YESSSSSS! MOAR! MOAR!!!
As you already know, this is one of the most original stories here! I LOVE IT!!!
1920550
I feel a little bad for him, too. I mean, sure, it's pretty obvious he was just out looking for some fun for the night, perhaps led a bit more by his desires rather than affection... but that's no worse than what Nictis does all the time. And man, that had to come out of nowhere for him. To have somepony go from seemingly responsive to your advances to very loudly threatening your life must have been pretty shocking. I kind of think that threatening another pony's life is really one of those things that ponies just don't really do, which probably makes the over-reaction seem even more extreme! And with the magic-eyes, lit-up horn, and creepy voice, she may well have seemed like she'd do it, too.
As for the cross-culture stuff, that's probably been my favorite part of writing this story. I get to take the Equestria I'm familiar with, and then look at it with a completely different viewpoint. It's fun!
1920855
Thank you!
Oh man now things are heating up. Also FINALLY a new chapter. Poor Nictis/ Meadow, also I think he/she might be in trouble now...Changeling on the loose and that cherry guy knows where she works! Anyway PLEASE KEEP GOING
Haha! I liked the part where Nictus brought up politics!
Also, blowing up the apartment at the end is probably going to bite him the butt in the future.
*blowing up in the apartment
1921095 Yeah... the cross culture bit has been perhaps one of the most fun bits for me to read! To take something that we think of as perfectly normal (LIKE KISSING!) and then to give that to someone who has NO idea why the heck we'd ever want to kiss.
lol! I was hoping this story would get updated! Woot! =D
So, does Meadow appear to be fully grown now or what??
1919964
Oh, right, the politics thing. She understands the basics of how the Equestrian government works, but nothing about fine details about political interests or city government. Kind of like how middle/high-school government class in the US would teach how the government works, but little if anything about the specifics of the democratic and republican parties and their platforms, much less particulars of the various interests and activities of people in one of its cities.
1922714
"Stupid ponies and their blindness to emotions, having to resort to such crude and disgusting physical means to display their emotions in order to make up for their crippling disability..."
1923295
Grown, late-teen to early-adult. Since she tailored her form to be somewhat taller and leaner than average, I picture her at the moment like a slightly-younger, brown-coated Fleur-di-Lis in appearance.
1921095 i think the main difference, is that Nictis/Meadow Song NEEDS to do it in order to survive. Cherry Runner had a desire of the Flesh. Nictis/Measow Song had a Desire to Survive and do his job. Basically, I'm stating that the big difference was that the Stallion wanted to indulge himself....at least, I assume that was his goal.
Yeah, I have been trying to figure out how old Nictis' disguise is. She seemed to still be a foal. I knew almost exactly what Cherry was after, I just assumed that he was a rapist instead.
Monster girls. Thats my excuse
I mentally replaced the "n"s with "t"s
Now there is a romance tag, but what I want to know is Meadow Song going to be with a mare or a stallion?
1924586
The only time her age was established (vaguely) was when she first arrived at the orphanage. They figured she was about 13 at the time, give or take (Though she noted mentally that, due to how much quicker changelings physically mature, she was probably about 5 years younger than that and would be fully-grown by the time she was that old). The orphanage arc was four years, maybe a bit more, so she looks about 17-18, now.
The bit of lingering foalishness is rather intentional. She's pretty inexperienced in the world, having lived almost all her time among ponies there in the orphanage. She still doesn't get much of what ponies consider intuitive and natural, but she's at least learned enough to go with the flow... though that didn't work so well for her here.
...Took me a minute to realize what you were referencing when you talked about replacing "n"s with "t"s. Ugh. That works way too well, and I hadn't even thought of that before. Great, now he's got a new nickname, and I'm not going to be able to not think of it...
1924852
Well, Nictis wouldn't really care either way, it's not like gender is important when he can just change it, anyway...
...but since most of the readers here presumably aren't changelings and probably do care about it, I suppose I'll let a little bit of spoilers out for them: the main interest is a stallion. On that note, though, the portion where romance shows up is fairly small when compared to the overall length of the story, it's obviously not romance throughout the whole story, but I felt it deserved the tag since the romance is probably the most impacting part of it, both plot and character-wise.
1925311 Your welcome. If I must suffer my mind, the people who inspire it must to.
Or benefit from it. Depends on the day
1925311
ROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMAAAAAAACE...yay
couldn't nixtus just shift herself better looking? also in my opinion changeling portals are rather distintive as are flames, when he's cooled down you might have unveild yourself
1945968
She can do changes to stuff like fur length, color, etc, so yes to a degree. I imagine it would be rather hard to get all of it just right, and it would still be limited to what could actually be done naturally (No shape-shifting makeup or hair-care products into place). I also figure the change is limited to the changeling's own body, so any dirt or the like would still be there. It'd be much easier to clean off of chitin than to get out of fur, but it'd still be there. Still, Nictis can do lots of minor cosmetic tweaks...
But part of why the whole spa treatment had little effect is because Nictis already did those tweaks. Meadow Song is already fairly pretty for a pony. She has the kind of look that could probably get a decent career as a model. If only Nictis knew that he could possibly make a career out of that...
And while yes, the green fire is rather distinctive, nopony knows about changelings, so all they know is that it's kind of creepy (Don't see many ponies conjuring flame, much less creepy green fire). The fire-portal would probably be even more creepy (Sucked her down into hell!), but Nictis has been very careful to make sure nopony sees that.
Here's a tip Meadow... just get rid of that second sentence entirely. Talking about politics with drunk
peopleponies is NEVER a good idea. Hell, talking about politics with SOBER ponies is a bad idea.Oh, how ironic, the changeling being seduced by a pony
2892173 it looked to melike she-man here didn't know the elements of seduction
You know, through this entire chapter, I kept wondering... why didn't she just shift into a more adult pony? It would make things so much easier. She looks what now, 15-16?
I'm just guessing he wants to get into your proverbial pants, but, if you want to think of it that way... sure. I could use some wacky hijinx
The word is "horny"
Wait. Ceymi didn't teach them anything about pony intimacy? What the hell. No, seriously. What. The. Hell.
3189660
maybe she was saving that lesson for when they were further along in their training, and just never got the chance? i mean it's hardly relevant yet when half her class can't even keep a disguise convincingly for a full day.
3257325
Yeah, good point... but one has to wonder what the stuff was they spent so much effort studying in the hive.
Then again, they barely managed a decent lie
So, how did you like them stallion lips? Was his tongue satisfactory? He thought he was going to get lucky! Mahahahaha!
Ya done goofed Meadow...
1919914
No. It's Cherry's Runner's fault for preying on a filly for a one night stand.
5132488 especially one that could kick his ass up and down the meadow.
Eeyup, saw the rest of that coming...
5132488
Well meadow song would be 17 by this point
Finally the changeling learns respect for Equestria's favored children.
I wonder about the reaction to Cloudsdale.
7002975
I'm not sure, but it probably involves gibbering in existential panic.
Good job, Nictis, you scared a horny stallion half to dead. Weird she/he didn't notice the lust even if she/he couldn't identify it but I guess ponies are feeling so many things at the same time it hard to pick out one.
7049787
I chalk that up to a lack of advanced training
Literally everything about Cherry Runner screamed rapist