• Published 23rd Dec 2012
  • 3,189 Views, 57 Comments

Kaleidoscope - TheVulpineHero1



Somepony struggles to remember their childhood. But something's wrong...

  • ...
4
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 3,189

Kaleidoscope

When I was a filly, a long time ago, I lived on a rock farm. In those days, I was a mere speck of colour that hardly came up to my father's knee; life was hard, and my mother used to steal away in the outhouse and cry when she thought nopony was looking. She was ill, I found out later; afflicted by a disease that came and went with the passing seasons, and reduced the world into grey, dreary sludge in her eyes.

Rock farming was never easy. I knew more about the earth when I was young than I did about ponies. I could have told you anything about the igneous and the metamorphic, but when it came to dealing with my brothers and sisters (of whom there were tens, maybe even hundreds), I didn't have a clue. Neither did my father. He loved us, but he didn't know how to give that love to us.

Maybe the pony I most respected when I was young was my grandma. She was truly fearless, and irked my father to no end. She used to laugh in his face when he shouted at her, even though his voice echoed through the timbers of our house and terrified me. She used to go on journeys, and brought back treasure for us every so often-- valueless baubles from the city, tarnished ropes of gold and silver, occasionally even a bright red balloon. My father thought those gifts frivolous, and they would always disappear whilst me and my siblings were asleep, never to be returned.

My grandma noticed, of course. After a time, she started to give us our gifts in secret; we'd hide them under floorboards, in hollows of the earth, anywhere we thought Father wouldn't find them. Sometimes, we would keep our trinkets for weeks instead of hours, that way, but never longer.

One day, early in the summer, my grandma took me aside, and gave me a treasure all of my own; she said to put it in a place where no living pony could ever take it from me. It was a kaleidoscope, the old fashioned kind with real glass lenses and a body of varnished wood. It felt heavy in my hooves; I remember that weight very clearly. I promised I would take care of it.

That night, when all was still on the farm, I carefully lit a candle and took my treasure out of its hiding place (underneath the third floorboard to the right of my bed). I brought it up to my eye, and peered at the candle through it. Suddenly, my room went from a drab and unfurnished place to a spiral of glitter and colour; the candle flame split into sixteen guttering facets, coloured ruby or emerald or sapphire depending on the tint of the glass. I felt a simple, guileless amazement; for a long time I simply stared at the candle flame, admiring the beauty I had never known to be there before.

I think, looking back, that was the start of who I was. I thought that the whole world could be beautiful if you looked at it through my grandma's kaleidoscope. Later, I would realise that I didn't need the kaleidoscope-- all I had to do was look at the world in a certain way, and I'd see that it was pretty underneath. Later still, I learned that the same thing applied to ponies, even my mother and father. I felt a pang, a longing, to make all those ponies happy, to see them smile. That was the beginning of me.

The next day, I went far away from the farm, and hid my new treasure in the countryside where nopony would find it. I buried it, under the earth I knew so well, and returned to my life of greys and blacks. It didn't matter. My kaleidoscope was in my heart, ready to be looked through at any time. Nopony could ever take it from me.

That year, my grandma went off on another journey and never came back. The last we heard of her was a letter my father got. He read it at the kitchen table, silently, creases in his brow; when he was done, he sniffed once, slowly put his hat on his head, and quietly went out to the rock farm. He didn't speak to anypony, or even come back inside, for almost three days. He never told us what he had been doing, but a month later looking for rocks in the hills, I found an empty grave with Grandma's name on it. It was made of the finest rock from our farm. The next day, I dug up my kaleidoscope, and buried it again there-- my last thank you to the grandma I adored.

It would still be a while until the sky split open into a burst of colour and I realised who I was really meant to be. I had a lot of growing to do. But when it happened, I jumped at the call; I threw my first and last party at the old rock farm. I can still see the look on my father's face-- he was so flabbergasted! It was the funniest thing. Then, I went back to the big city, to seek shelter with my relatives--

...Wait. That isn't right. None of that is right. My memory is so fuzzy, nowadays; I can hardly remember anything. Let me try again.

When I was a filly, I lived on a farm. That bit was right. But we farmed apples, not rocks. I did have a lot of family, but we didn't all live together like I thought. We were all separated, off in different towns doing our own things. My grandma, who was old even when I was young, used to tell me that our family had a pioneer spirit, that our family was strong. Family would never let us down. I never doubted her, but neither she nor my brother (who seemed as tall as a mountain, back then) would tell me where my parents had gone after Sweetie Belle was born.

I'm a little ashamed to admit it, but back then, I got bored of apples. I used to do all sorts of things to entertain myself. I learned how to use a lariat, with my teeth and then my tail. I learned how to toss horseshoes, perform in rodeos, bake like a professional-- anything to avoid the monotony of reds, greens and autumn leaves that made up my life. Maybe it was escapism. I thought that my whole life had already been mapped out for me by what my family did, and I kept trying to run away from it.

One day, I succeeded. I used my family against itself, and called upon relatives in...Fillydelphia, I think. There were no apple farms in the big city. There were just sophisticated ponies, who did all sorts of interesting things I couldn't even imagine; I wanted to be one of them. I packed up a knapsack full of all the meaningless trinkets a child thinks of when they prepare for a journey: enough food to last maybe half a day, a set of clothes that would barely keep out the most feeble winds, and all sorts of useless, sentimental knick-knacks my brother had given me, like the set of jacks we used to play with and his old harmonica with the broken reeds.

Then, I was off. I tried to forget the worry on my family's faces as I made my way towards the big city; I was determined that I would be something new, something brilliant, a sophisticated Apple the likes of which Ponyville had never seen. I didn't realise it at the time, but now that I think of it, trudging off into the sunset with a knapsack in search of adventure is, perhaps, the most stereotypically Apple thing I could ever have done.

Maybe that's why my brother and grandmother let me do it in the first place. They realised that there was a need, written into my blood, to seek pastures unknown and try to make my fortune with my own four hooves. Maybe they felt it when they were foals.

I don't remember much of the journey, but it must have been long, and harsh. When I finally reached Fillydelphia, my hooves were sore, and I could hardly carry the knapsack I had slung over my shoulder. It was dark at night when I arrived; the stars loomed in and out of the clouds up above. I made the mistake of gazing up at the skyscrapers, and felt dizzy; the bright lights in their windows whirled around me, like a kaleidoscope, like a great storm of concrete giants. But I had done it. I had...

...wait. No, wait. There are forests between Fillydelphia and Ponyville. Rivers, too. How would I have made it on foot? Never mind on half a day's food. Was it really Fillydelphia that I visited? Perhaps it was Canterlot? But there are no skyscrapers in Canterlot. This doesn't make any sense at all. Let me-- let me start again. You must forgive me, but it's important. It's important that I remember. Please.

When I was a filly...No, I never lived on a farm. Why would I think that? It's ridiculous. Earth ponies work on farms, and I was no earth pony. I was slender, svelte, beautiful. I was a unicorn. That's it. A unicorn. And I know exactly what happened to my parents: nothing. They wore loud shirts, and embarrassed me, and they had another little filly after I was born. Were they from Fillydelphia? Yes, that's why I thought I went there. I just got a little confused. It's all coming back to me now. Yes.

I had silvery white flanks, and I brushed my mane every day. But I never knew what I wanted to be. My sister would have the same problem, later. Her name escapes me. Applebloom? Yes, that was it. Applebloom. I hid from a storm with her one time, and we fought. She wore a hat. Yes.

Where was I? Oh, yes. I didn't know what I wanted to do. But one day, my horn started pulling me along. It pulled so hard my horseshoes slid through the dirt when I tried to stop for rest. It pulled me through branches and trees that scratched my flanks. Eventually, it led me to a rock. Igneous, I think, just like the kind Father used to dig up at the farm. I...think I shouted. I was angry, angry at my unicorn magic for dragging me to such a stupid rock.

As I shouted, an answer came from the sky: a huge clap of sound, and light. I don't remember what colour light. I was scared, and surprised. Nervous, I think. So nervous, I couldn't control my magic. Before I knew it, the rock had changed, warped into a huge spire of emerald, a collection of glinting angles. I whirled around it in wonder, peering through it as I did. The world refracted green, even the sky, and I realised something. I'm not--

No. No no no no NO. That isn't what happened. Just...Phew. Deep breaths. I can do this. I need to slow down, really think it through. I'll get it right this time. I promise. Really. I'll go through, piece by piece, and build my story. It'll work this time. It's important. I have to do this.

When I was...When I was a filly, I was a unicorn. I know that. It couldn't have happened the way it did if I wasn't. My parents, they were unicorns too. Of course. It's only logical. They were warm, and loving, but they were normal. That's how parents are, you know? Of course you do. Of course. Everypony has parents. Everypony knows.

I remember, also, having a brother. I looked up to him. He was strong, and handsome, and he made me feel safe. He was good at magic, too. That was my brother. He...wasn't as tall as a mountain. But he was taller than my father, eventually. I had a baby...Did I have a babysitter? Yes. Yes, I must have. I remember her clearly, now. I even remember her name: Princess Cadence. I adored her. She was everything I wanted to be when I grew up. Her knees always used to hurt after she pushed me on the swings, and she loved me too. Deeply. But she loved my brother more, a love with so much heat that it burned even to touch.

Neither my brother nor Princess Cadence were there when I heard the call to magic. Only my parents. There was an exam; I had to hatch a dragon's egg with my magic. Yes, that's right. It's difficult to hatch a dragon's egg, you know. They dream even before they hatch. I...couldn't do it. I tried, and tried, but my nerves got the better of me. The examiners scared me, too. I wanted so badly to make my parents proud. I wanted to be gifted, special.

As I was trying, there was a huge shockwave. A blast of powerful, horrible, scalding pink light crashed through the room. I couldn't take it; my magic went haywire. I went mad. I turned my parents into houseplants; I took the examiners and twisted their bodies in foul, cancerous forms. I lifted the dragon's egg above my head and dashed it to the ground, danced in the wreckage. I was insane, because I realised that the whole world, no matter what it is, is always changing. It never stops.

Then, my Enemy appeared. The White Princess, her mane flaring like a comet's tail, her horn ablaze with righteous fury. She thought to strike me down! I--

...no. This...no. I wasn't. I didn't. I didn't do any of this. I was a baker, a farmer, a jeweller. I was a middle-class musician, travelling salespony, a daughter of loose morals. I was wall-eyed, thick necked, with tiny wings, I was black and green and blue and purple, I was a crying child, I was a saint, a pioneer, a fictional character, the mayor of a backwater town--

Ah.

No, I remember now. Let me begin again, just one more time.

When I was a filly, I wasn't a filly. I was an egg, a black lump of chitinous scales wrapped around a faintly beating heart, swaddled in viscous green fluid. The only things I knew were a vast, yawning hunger, and the gentle coo of my mother's voice. She spoke to me, my mother did. She told me stories, and asked me questions.

"Why do you not eat, child?"

She asked me that almost every day. I could never answer her; weak and starved as I was, I was confined to my prison. Voiceless. The stories she told were without equal, though. She told me of faraway, ancient lands made of basalt and crystal. She told me about a vast palace with alabaster battlements, hidden behind a bubble of pure magic. She told me she had been there once. Sometimes, she sang to me. I dreamed of her, and the places she'd been, and of being free to hug her.

I loved my mother. But...

...I...tasted her. I was hungry. You would've done the same. At first, I only nibbled. I didn't consume, so much as...blunt. Her emotions were rich, and dark, and delicious. She'd felt everything in her long life; hate, anger, disappointment, happiness, triumph, and even love-- but only for me. I couldn't help myself.

She kept talking, as I ate. She told me that one day, when I was as old as she, I would do the same thing she was doing right now. She told me that her time underneath the sky was over. She told me of my many thousands of brothers and sisters, secreted across the lands in clumps of four or five, waiting for the unlucky fool who happened across them and became their first meal.

Eventually, she ran out of emotions. I had eaten them all. But I was still hungry, so I ate...more. Things she wouldn't miss. A few memories, here and there. Thoughts and theories as they flashed across her mind. Things like that. Eventually, she stopped talking, but only because I ate her voice. It didn't matter, because by then I was consuming her memories, savouring her experiences like fine wine. She didn't need to tell me. I already knew. I ate her hunger, and her tears, and her skills. I ate her knowledge, her pride. I ate all of it.

At the very end, when my belly was full almost to bursting, I found the last few remnants of her: two things she had kept secret, locked inside her very soul. One was a feeling. The other was a thought.

The feeling was horror. A rich, viscous ball of horror, which hovered and threatened to burst like a bubble of tar. It was the horror of being eaten alive by your own daughter.

The thought was simply this:
"I was Queen Chrysalis. And now, my dear daughter, so are you."

She was right. I am Queen Chrysalis, and I am every Queen Chrysalis that has ever been, and will be a part of every one to come. I am every pony I have ever imitated, every feeling I have ever stolen. There are memories inside of me, that are not mine; fragments of stories taken from my enemies. Sooner or later, I will complete them; I will take all there is to take, and at the end of each story will be my own image seen through dying eyes.

The world, you see, is ever changing. It whistles through the cosmos, spinning and whirling, all the little lives fluttering like glitter in a kaleidoscope. The world is a beautiful place.

And, perhaps in ten years, perhaps in a thousand, I will have it.

Author's Note:

I just want to say a quick and heartfelt thank-you to Pinkie Primus, Sypher, The Dark Lord Link and Professor Piggy, all of whom graciously offered to pre-read this story, which is perhaps the only reason I submitted it anywhere near as quickly as I did.

Comments ( 55 )

Hellooooo what do we have he-AHHH. I didn't expect that. D:

I went from confused, to interested, and then to growing terror. And then the ending. It was perfect.

I'll be sad if this doesn't get the recognition it deserves.

...Unbelievable! How could you ever doubt such a masterpiece that is this? My friend, it is, in my humble eyes, a perfect story.

First, I'd love to point out the metaphors, so cleverly imbued with the numerous elements of the story, such as and most importantly, the Kaleidoscope. Very well maneuvered.

Honestly, the structure is sound, lovely and detailed just right. It's like looking through a map of nothing but crossroads. Begging to ask the question of which is truly the right, and true path. All riddled down to the correct place.

By all means, you have nothing to worry about. This story is ready and, in time, will catch on and be graced with the numerous likes and applause's it deserves. Why? Simple. It is unique. I've never read anything quite like it, and it is indeed a refreshing taste of the ever growing evolution among writers, at least to me it is. Well done, Vulpine! :pinkiehappy:

This place has got more twists then the road to Rout Guano!

1842392
I'm going to be honest: some of the elements in this story were literally just there to mess with the heads of people that were familiar with my stuff. That's why the start has elements of a long, slice-of-lifey, serene account to it; I wanted to make it seem typical of other things that I've written, so when it all kicks off, there's a nice surprise. :pinkiehappy:
Glad you liked it!
1842475
To be fair, I'm not a super popular writer due to my erratic schedule. Plus, it has the most generic description possible and the only listed character is 'other', so the search engine won't be picking it up too easily; honestly, I don't predict this getting a lot of views outside of people who watch me anyway. But for those people, it's like an unexpected Christmas present. I guess what I mean to say is that even if it gets barely any views, I'll be proud of it. :twilightsmile:
1842842
Well, my original thought when I finished it was, "wow, this is pretty awesome". Whenever I think that about my own stories, I try to immediately go and seek second opinions to make sure it's not just my ego talking. I like to think I don't produce anything too awful, but I'm really not what you'd call an objective judge of my own work. :rainbowlaugh: So, it was a case of "don't doubt the story, doubt the writer". I'm glad you thought it was worth the read!
1842871
Hopefully they lead to a satisfactory conclusion. :raritywink:

Beautifully done, and absolutely criminal that it's got fewer likes than I can count on two hands. Going to have to rectify this somehow.

1843545 It is always nice to enjoy a good story after the hell I've just gotten out of.

Oh, nice! Unexpected and well-written, and a very nice take on an intriguing aspect of Equestria.

It's not easy to write a story this good in only 3,000 words. Well done I say.

This is incredible. It's as good as plenty of the stories in the featured box, and yet somehow it has under twenty likes. :fluttershysad: This story needs more love!

1844110
Well, as of the time of writing, it has more likes as you could count on two hands and two feet! In all seriousness, though, the points I made to Sypher should explain why I don't really expect this story to get super popular. The people who have seen it seem to like it, which is all I can really ask for. I'm really glad you enjoyed it enough to say that kind of thing, though. :twilightsmile:
1844779
It really is a very interesting aspect (he says awkwardly, trying not to spoil his own story in the comments section). How things work are never really explained, so there's a lot of wiggle room to play around and have fun. Glad you enjoyed it!
1844843
Well, I try! Originally I planned it to be longer and to have one more 'segment' than in its current incarnation, but somewhere in the process of writing the rest of the story, I decided that what I had planned would be superflous and cliche.
1844921
It works out that way, sometimes. I bet there are a whole bunch of amazing stories that are hidden away under the sheer volume of fics on site. Although more love would certainly be nice, I'm satisfied so long as this story provides a nice treat to anybody who does manage to stumble across it. :twilightsmile:

A good tale indeed, 'tis a crime that it has so few views:twilightsmile:
Also, nice foreshadowing :pinkiehappy:

Exquisitely disturbing. I knew it was a changeling POV story once Pinkie mentioned her dozens of green-eyed siblings, but I wasn't expecting a royal succession. Excellently, hauntingly done.

1843545 Ah, I suppose it is natural for artists and writers to doubt their work, I know I do.

AAAAHHHHHHHH

That was TERRIFYING WHAT THE HELL WHY WOULD YOU ASGGGHWEOIHFPOFWSFOQOIJOIJPOJ

Wow. Really interesting Premise. I especially liked the changeling reproduction process. i had a similar idea once, but it was less parasitic, more mutualistic. either way, FANTASTIC job:pinkiehappy:

1845474
Well, that's just the nature of the beast, I suppose. :rainbowlaugh: It doesn't matter. So long as the people who do see it enjoy it. :twilightsmile:
1845548
Good eye! From what I was told be both the pre-readers and commenters, it seems the moment of 'getting it' is pretty variable; some people twig it straight away, whilst others don't get it until the really obvious hints start dropping right before the reveal. Since the whole Pinkie section is made to both lull you into a false sense of security (and act as a bait and switch, considering the frequency of 'Pinkie goes crazy' stories on the internet), it seems that a fair number of people just skip over that first big hint.
1847421
Because I'm a horrible person and I enjoy terrorising the innocent? :pinkiesmile:
1847754
Thanks. It is a pretty powerful idea; I'm just glad I managed to avoid botching the delivery.

1845548 I missed that. I paused at the green eyes and the tens or hundreds of brothers and sisters, but just chalked it up to fanfiction weirdness instead of trying to figure it out. Seems obvious in retrospect, was not obvious to me at the time.

This story is practically perfect. The ending, from "When I was a filly, I wasn't a filly" onward, is perfect. (Okay, EqD will tell you to reformat your ellipses. But other than typesetting quibbles, perfect.) It feels presumptuous of me to comment on it at all.

((COMMENT CONTAINS SPOILERS))
1845548 Yeah, that line slammed me to a halt too. "Perhaps even hundreds" of siblings simply wasn't something I was capable of glossing over, and then with the green eyes, I was reading the whole thing thinking, "Welp, this is a changeling story."

It was still a good changeling story, don't get me wrong, but I feel like I read the punchline before the joke. I don't think the story benefits from having foreshadowed it so conclusively and so early on. (Based on 1849246, I don't think that was the intention, either.) I think my brain would still have gone to changelings around the time of the Applejack/Rarity transition, because that's just a natural place to go when somepony's got such conflicting memories, but a little more ambiguity would have let me savor the descent into the story a little bit at a time.

All that having been said, the Chrysalis twist at the end was still a good one, and the image of her true childhood was extraordinarily powerful.

1851064
Ah, the 'presumptuous to comment' feeling. Rest assured, you're not the only one-- I often get it when looking at some of the really good stories on site. It's irrational, but it still happens. (EqD has rules on formatting elipses? Wow. I guess it's lucky that I never even thought about submitting this there.) Glad you enjoyed this so much!

1852301
This. This is valuable. As sorry as I am that it spoiled the story for you, this kind of feedback is really the sort this story needs. Since I'm the author and knew the conclusion before the story even began, I can't judge exactly how important or necessary each clue is. I think I'll probably lose the green-eye descriptor in that sentence, since that seems to be the huge, concrete giveaway (and the many brothers/sisters is explainable by virtue of exaggeration or foggy memories, both of which are in context for Pinkie's account). I was thinking of doing it after FanOfMostEverything's comment, but now I know it isn't a one-off I can allow for it in good conscience, without worrying about disturbing the fabric of the story unnecessarily. Thank you for taking the time to comment about it instead of just hitting the thumbs down and calling it a day!

1852566 1852301
It's a hard call, but another reason to tone down that sentence--maybe remove one or the other of "green-eyed" and "perhaps even hundreds"--is the context people read the story in. We read a new story here, esp. by an author we haven't read before, expecting it to be badly-written. The biggest problem I can see with your story is being in that context. Some people will start reading it, come across things that don't make sense, and jump to the conclusion that you're an idiot and your story sucks. Some will cut you some slack because the writing style is so good so far, but many will not, and some aren't capable of telling the difference.

1852672
I can see what you mean. I've already removed the green eyed bit. One thing I will say is that, when you make purposeful mistakes in a narrative like I did in this one, there's always a chance people will just interpret it as the author themselves being an idiot rather than a key part of the narrative structure. Which is fair enough; nine out of ten times, mistakes are just mistakes. Ultimately, I think it's a great shame if people jump to conclusions within the first two paragraphs (despite the description of the story all-but-explicitly warning them that some statements/'facts' would not be true), but in the end, there isn't much I can do about it. The mistakes are important, and a certain subset of people will always misinterpret them.

There's also the fact that if the assumption is 'new writer --> probably written badly', the only way for a writer to change that assumption is to write well, which can only be done by making good stories. If the reader then makes the assumption that those stories suck before the piece has really had time to show what the author is capable of, nothing ever changes. It's sad, but also just the way it is. Essentially, if someone reads this story without the intention of giving it a fair chance, my hands are tied; nothing I do will make them give it one, and arguably I ought to be focusing more on the hundred or so people who know I can write, who will give it a chance, and who will get some enjoyment out of it.

All in all, it's a large issue, and I simply have no idea what to do about it. I'm unwilling to lose or relocate that first mistake entirely, since then the whole section goes from 'believeable account with something just off enough to notice' to 'believeable account that justs stops for no reason when the speaker decides it's not actually the right story.' I want there to be a reason, visible to the reader, that explains that the narrator might not be telling the right story ahead of time-- especially since Pinkie's section is the longest. I get your point, it's a good one, but I have no real answer to it. (I do like discussions like this, though.)

1852566 Glad I could help make the story even better. :pinkiehappy:

Aah! Nice story! Changeling Queen mentality here reminds me a lot of the Bene Gesserit Reverend Mothers from Frank Herbert's Dune series. Must be a very strange existence, where consuming one's food has the potential to make one's essentially naturally schizophrenic state even worse. This further makes me wonder whether the older a changeling queen gets, the more fragmented she becomes...

In any case, this was well written, beautifully executed, and thought provoking. Bravo! :twilightsmile:

[Comment contains spoilers.]
I love this so hard. I think this is the best thing you've written for the MLP fandom yet. It's just brilliant, and I love everything it implies about changelings and Queen Chrysalis.

I'll say that I didn't realize it was a changeling story until the end, since others commented on that--that might be my own obtuseness, though. I'm not the most observant person. I did notice the reference to the "hundreds" of siblings in Pinkie's section, but that just made me think, "Oh, this is unreliable narration. Something's not right." but not "Changelings!" When the story shifted into Applejack's fillyhood story, then Rarity's, I still didn't catch on. Instead, I wondered if something had happened to the Elements bearers that fused all of their memories into one jumbled mess.

The ending's reference back to kaleidoscopes was just ... oh, man. I thought it was just great. It managed to be a lot creepy and a bit sweet at the same time, and that's an impressive combo to pull off.

My thanks to DB for directing me here. And my compliments to you for such a well-written story. It makes all too much sense...just like another fic that Seattle's Angels reviewed called A Certain Point of View, the story depends on the reader not knowing its premise.

The story itself does this quite well, though I do think that if readers twig immediately to "changeling" that it has less of an impact.

But what am I saying? It's extremely creative, executed to perfection, and how did I not find this sooner? The theme of a kaleidoscope, the constant shifting between POVs, the amazing reveal...all of it comes together like a jigsaw.

It's woefully inadequate, but well done.

1886482
Also wanna thank this guy for guiding me here.

Awesome story - I didn't cotton on until the end, and there's nothing I can say in praise that hasn't been said already. Well done!

That was a fantastic story I did not see that ending coming I kept trying to think of witch of the main six became an Alicorn or absorbed the others or something equally out there, but I really liked that. :pinkiehappy:

I would do the 'Comment Contains Spoilers!' thing, but I think that train has sailed as of FanOfMostEverything's first comment. :moustache:
1858570
I've never read the Dune series. I've always kind've wanted to, but my local bookshop never has more than one in stock, and it's never the first. That kind've thing really discourages me from getting into a lot of the more long-running sci-fi series. (Also, my take on the matter would be that, since the Chrysalis persona is passed down and solidified by the raising process in each iteration, it would essentially form the 'core' personality, like an achor of sorts. Amounts of schizophrenia may well occur due to feeding habits, but the influence of the Chrysalis persona would mitigate it by providing a strong personality to default to. In that sense, you might actually call it an evolutionary adaptation. Sucks for the rest of the changelings, though. Of course, this is just random pontification. :rainbowlaugh: )
1876555
I don't see any reason why not. It isn't like I own the characters or the setting. :rainbowlaugh: I'm glad you asked first, though. If nothing else, it's good manners. :twilightsmile:
(Also, I thought you could have as many favourites as you liked on this site. Was I wrong?)
1886482
I'd agree with you in terms of my contributions to the MLP fandom. As much as I love making funny little shipfics (and as much as I think they're actually pretty good, since I wouldn't post them if I didn't), I don't think they're really as impressive as serious pieces can be. The problem is that I can start comedies any time I want and for any simple little reason (most frequently 'I need more practice' or 'I'm bored with what I'm writing at the moment, let's just do something funny'), but serious stuff I tend to need a little bit of inspiration for.
One thing that does surprise me is how many people suspected some sort of fusion happening between the Elements of Harmony or their memories. I can't help but feel that would've been a somewhat 'gimmicky' (for want of a better word) plot for this context. Maybe it'd work in a multichaptered fic, where the consequences would have to be examined and the cause would eventually come to light, but for something as simple as a oneshot I don't really see it. Mind you, maybe if element fusion had occured to me first when I had the idea, I'd be calling the actual plot gimmicky right now.
I wondered if anybody would pick up on the somewhat sympathetic vibe I was going for towards the end. As much as I wanted it to be creepy, I also wanted to show some kind of repercussions for the memories discussed, and perhaps a little tingle of hope. The main thing that's taken forwards is the idea that the world is beautiful, which is expressed in the first, most stable section; in essence, it's something that was learned from experiencing Pinkie. I wanted to give the impression that, even though it's being used to justify less admirable goals, something of moral worth has been passed on, and with enough time and exposure, things could change for the Queen.
1886659
Ahaha! As for 'how did I not find this sooner', I think I'll quote myself from earlier in the comments:

To be fair, I'm not a super popular writer due to my erratic schedule. Plus, it has the most generic description possible and the only listed character is 'other', so the search engine won't be picking it up too easily; honestly, I don't predict this getting a lot of views outside of people who watch me anyway.

Of course, this story has already recieved more attention that I thought it would several times over, mostly because of people like DB and Skywriter who were kind enough to draw people's attentions to it; my initial estimation was that it'd get maybe seventy views whilst it was still in the New Stories list and then disappear after that.
I'm glad you enjoyed the story. I have no idea who the Seattle's Angels are, though. :rainbowlaugh:
1886860
Thanks. I try! :twilightsmile:
1890229
Glad you enjoyed it!

1886482
Thanks for directing me to this story. I agree. It's fantastic. I knew something was off from the start, but I never got the turnaround until the end, and it was amazing.

Wow, this little story just blew me away. And even though I've only read one other fanfic about changelings, I find this one is so unique. The ending was bittersweet for me but it all made perfect sense. I'm glad I read this.

1895390
I think your funny little shipfics are darn good. I said what I said not to denigrate your other stories but just to emphasize how much I loved this one. Just for the record and all. :twilightsmile:

And yeah, I definitely picked up on the sympathetic vibe. I thought she was very sympathetic, and I thought it was almost sweet that Pinkie's sense of the world being beautiful lives on in the changeling queens, in a way.

1886482 Thanks for bringing me to this one, Donny!

Wow. Okay. That was brilliant. Of course I spotted right away (Pinkie doesn't have hundreds of brothers and sisters!) that we had an unreliable narrator, but I didn't get it until the end. I, too, thought we had some sort of Element mind merger. That or simply a pony suffering delusions. The main twist was great, and the very last bit, where she assumes her new identity, is even better.

I guess if I'm going to dare comment, I should pick out one specific thing I enjoyed, rather than writing a full-length critical analysis essay...

Well, one thing I loved but which I haven't seen commented on is the monochromatism. "Twilight" remembers the Sonic Rainboom as pink – oh! which I belatedly realise is a reference to the end of A Canterlot Wedding; reading over it again, there's a lot of neat little hints like that – rather than rainbow-coloured. "Rarity" doesn't remember the Rainboom's colour at all, but remembers the gems in her rock as all green, rather than rainbow-coloured. It's just a little thing, but makes me think of each memory as being a single facet of the kaleidoscope.

This is AMAZING. Surprised this hasn't gotten more recognition, but it will eventually, I'm sure.

A fellow talkhausian here, saying thank you for linking this, t'is a beautiful piece of work.

When I read stories, and especially fanfics made from already existent stories, I look for new ideas, new concepts, new ways of looking at things.
And to be blunt, the ending made me giddy, it's a unique and very interesting look at how these creatures work, and it fits well both within your own work, and the works it is based off of.

The actual story that comes before it is nice as well. You have a deft hand, you did not drag on too long with any one part, but you gave enough that it felt plausible that each section was a "truth", and not just something to be skipped through to carry along a point.

You built up the tension very well from beginning to end, the emotion slowly changes as the story progresses, until we get up to the final act, where it reaches its peak, and is used nicely to end the thing. A lot of first person "unreliable narrator" type stories tend to be either too heavy handed with points, or just confusing about them. It's actually done fairly decently here, and it makes me happy.

So yeah, all and all, enjoyable fic thing you got here, I now intend to read your other works as well.

Finally got around to reading this...absolutely brilliant. Your control and flow of language is just beautiful, and your transitions were so, so smooth. I had a few inklings about what this story was really about early on, but the hints were so perfectly subtle it didn't even matter. I can't think of anything else that hasn't already been said. If this is what one can look forward to in the rest of your work, then I absolutely can't wait to read more!

The idea of Changelings consuming their parents and becoming them is just fascinating.

PresentPerfect
Author Interviewer

How cool was this? :D

Improper use of a semicolon in the opening paragraph. There is a special hell for people like you!

But seriously, the actual style of the prose is nice and rich, even if the punctuation continued to distract me. I guess I just can't get past that common pitfall of 'must use all of the main six'. As soon as you hopped to a third childhood, the story just died because there was nothing really in it for me. Maybe if they'd been OCs that allowed for world-building? I dunno. Once again, I think I may just be missing the point.

-M

3473269
I'm not really in the habit of responding to comments on this story anymore, since I never know what to say (and technically I'm on hiatus and not responding to comments much anyway), but I would disagree with you on the subject of improper semi-colon use. As I understand it, semi-colons are used when:
a) both clauses in the sentence are independent and could stand alone
b) You want to connect two sentences with somewhat disparate but still relevent subjects and
c) to create the effect of a pause longer than a comma, but not so long as a full stop.
I may be biased, but most of my semi-colon use seems valid (if less than optimal, one could certainly argue) under those conditions. I'm always trying to improve my grammar since it's one of my weaker areas, so if I'm mistaken please feel free to pick out examples and explain where I'm going wrong.

As for the other case: y'know, I almost agree with you. Originally this story did use all the main six, but during the design process I cut out all of Rainbow Dash's part for reasons of pace, and decided not to touch on Fluttershy's at all. The main point was to introduce flaws in the stories the viewer will already know, so as to foreshadow the conclusion, and to show the narrative is degenerating as time goes on. Maybe it just didn't work for you, and that's fine, but I don't think I'd do that particular aspect of the story differently if I had to do it again. Worldbuilding within the childhood segments wasn't really the intent here.

The line in question is thus: 'She was ill, I found out later; afflicted by a disease that came and went with the passing seasons, and reduced the world into grey, dreary sludge in her eyes.'

The first part is a complete sentence, 'She was ill, I found out later', is a complete and valid sentence: subject, predicate, subordinate clause. No problems there.

'Afflicted by a disease that came and went with the passing seasons, and reduced the world into grey, dreary sludge in her eyes' is missing a subject; since it is borrowed from the first clause, this is a subordinate clause at best. Note that my previous sentence uses a semicolon to join thematically linked material, and that the second part borrows it's context from the first; however, the sentence construction still includes the grammatical subject 'it', even if its intent is borrowed.

The rules:
A semicolon may only be used where it could legitimately be substituted with a full stop (regardless of the affect on meaning).
A semicolon connects two thematically-linked sentences together. Purists, and those who follow the modern-American minimalism of punctuation, may insist that semicolons should only ever be used to link two sentences together where the semicolon's inclusion alters the meaning of the otherwise separate sentences:
Grime covered the walls. Dust motes fell from the ceiling. Someone nearby was enjoying their subwoofer a little too much.
Grime covered the walls. Dust motes fell from the ceiling; someone nearby was enjoying their subwoofer a little too much.
The first example is a list of separate descriptions, while the second uses a semicolon to create a connection between dust and some ponding bass and leaving the reader to fill in the blanks. This is the safest (and I dare say most effective) use of a semicolon.
Those of us who actually like our prose to have a sense of flavour (which you obviously do—the sense of 'voice' in your prose is commendable), semicolons can be used to lent a more natural flow more akin to how people actually speak. "I gave the spare stuff to Kalvin; he seemed to need it." Note that were I to say, "I gave the spare stuff to Kalvin. He seemed to need it," then the meaning would be identical—the flow is the only thing that changes.

The other things that springs to mind is that it is abnormal to leave a space after an em dash (or a fake dash '--'). There are certainly times when I would use a space for effect, but I think most editors would agree that it should be a very small exception to the general rule.

Finally, here is a quick grab of a few other early lines that blipped on my editor's radar:
Sometimes, we would keep our trinkets for weeks instead of hours, that way, but never longer.
This is one of those lines that, while technically correct, I can't read aloud in any way that feels natural. Sometimes and that way seem to be fulfilling the same role here, and I'd definitely drop one of the two for readability because it's quite jarring as it is.
He never told us what he had been doing, but a month later looking for rocks in the hills, I found an empty grave with Grandma's name on it.
Here, there should be a comma after 'later'.
The next day, I dug up my kaleidoscope, and buried it again there.
The comma after kaleidoscope is incorrect. 'And' is not a co-coordinating conjunction here.
I learned how to use a lariat, with my teeth and then my tail.
No comma here, either. This is either part of the main clause or an afterthought best connected with a dash.


Hope that helps. Feel free to drop me a line if you ever want an extra pair of eyes for editing or have any questions need answering. If I don't know the answer, I guarantee I'll enjoy finding it!

-M

3482592
I see. That definitely makes sense to me, and I feel I've learned something from that explaination. I'll certainly be more careful about making sure that the sentences I'm seperating are complete in future. Thanks for taking the time out to explain things -- it's much appreciated.

As for the other things you pointed out:

Sometimes, we would keep our trinkets for weeks instead of hours, that way, but never longer.

This is one of those lines that, while technically correct, I can't read aloud in any way that feels natural. Sometimes and that way seem to be fulfilling the same role here, and I'd definitely drop one of the two for readability because it's quite jarring as it is.

I actually saw that and disliked it when I was sweeping through myself recently. It's definitely on my list of things to fix. What I'll likely do is remove the 'sometimes', or, alternatively, rearrange the sentence to something like "That way, we would sometimes keep our trinkets for weeks instead of hours -- but never longer", which would preserve the idea that the hiding doesn't always work and flows a little better.

He never told us what he had been doing, but a month later looking for rocks in the hills, I found an empty grave with Grandma's name on it.

Here, there should be a comma after 'later'.

Agreed. Originally I was worried about slowing the line down too much, but nearly a year later and with a more practiced ear, I don't think it would be a problem.

The next day, I dug up my kaleidoscope, and buried it again there.

The comma after kaleidoscope is incorrect. 'And' is not a co-coordinating conjunction here.

I'm going to admit that I have no idea what a co-coordinating conjunction is. That line does need changing, but my first instinct is "The next day I dug up my kaleidoscope, and buried it again in the empty grave" rather than removing the comma after kaleidoscope. Can I trouble you to explain?

I learned how to use a lariat, with my teeth and then my tail.

No comma here, either. This is either part of the main clause or an afterthought best connected with a dash.

You're right. I would probably go with the option of a dash, since I wanted there to be a brief pause after lariat. I'd probably render it as something like "I learned how to use a lariat--first with my teeth, and then with my tail."

Again, thank you for taking the time to clarify things, and I really appreciate the offer of editing help; I may take you up on it, if I ever feel I have another ponyfic worth posting.

3483295 Not a problem.

A conjunction joins two words or phrases together: I need some bread and milk.
A coordinating conjunction joins two complete clauses together: I need some bread, and I need some milk.

Generally speaking, try to look at any comma and ascertain of exactly which function it is serving.

1) replacing a word used to form a list.
I like movies and cheesecake and skyscrapers and cycling and football.
I like movies, cheesecake, skyscrapers, cycling, and football.
(Note that using a comma before the 'and' is called an Oxford or serial comma. It's optional, but does a good job of maintaining maximum clarity. I prefer to use it.)
This also includes coordinated adjectives.
It was a cold, windy winter's morning instead of it was a cold and windy winter's morning.

2) to offset a parenthetical statement in a sentence.
Gerry Bruckman, a famous architect from Detroit, started out as a greengrocer.
To be sure that you are using parenthetical commas correctly, remove the parenthetical statement from the sentence. Does it still make sense grammatically?
Gerry Bruckman started out as a greengrocer.
If you can't remove the text between commas, they aren't parenthetical (or bracketing) commas.

3) to offset introductory words or subordinate clauses.
Introductory words are such things things as however, so, therefore, etc.
However, I should make it clear that I do not endorse such frivolity.
A comma after an introductory word is optional (though generally recommended for clarity).
A comma separating a main clause from a subordinate clause is, however, mandatory.
Chewing the end of his pencil, Dave thought about what a wrong answer would cost him.
The snow fell constantly, falling evenly across the whole yard.

4) Connecting two complete clauses together via a coordinating conjunction.
Designer clothes are silly, and I can't afford them anyway.
Mary walked to the party, but she was unable to walk home.
Note that parenthetical statements may skip a the opening comma is placed directly after a coordinating conjunction.
Silence reigned, but in the dead of night, I could feel him watching me.
But is the coordinating conjunction here, and in the dead of night is a parenthetical phrase. Since they are contiguous, the comma between the two is ommitted.

5) to transition to and from quoted text.
"Please, please, please," Captain Blackadder said. "Stop."
Jimmy leaned in close, and after a dramatic pause, said, "Venison's dear, isn't it?"

If a comma does not satisfy one of these conditions, it's probably wrong.

Does that clear it up?

One thing that I thought this fic did nicely was capture the voice of each of the ponies whose perspective the narrator adopts throughout. While Pinkie's wasn't necessarily the most Pinkie-like voice, I could definitely read Applejack's section in Applejack's voice. What's perhaps more impressive is that when you transitition to Rarity's section, I knew by the diction and style that Rarity was up next before you even mention her being a unicorn. Similarly with Twilight's section, the writing style in the lead-in clues to her identity before it is revealed.

As many have mentioned before, the idea of newborn changelings feeding on their mothers' love is a very neat one, and this story was an interesting way of exploring that. Good job!

A Kaleidoscope is really too perfect a metaphor for this fic: Beautiful and interesting, with lots of nice little surprises when you keep looking at it, but essentially devoid of meaning.

The story felt obtuse for the sake of being obtuse, and could most likely have the same effect without most of the metaphors and misdirection, or keep those and end in a more thematically coherent way. Not that I regret reading it, but it felt like I was reading two separate stories that just happened to be occupy the same space.

The first time it shifted perspectives, I thought it would be an Element POV thing... but you surprised me. That ending was good.

So Chrysalis had memories from the Element Bearers and her daughter discovered them when she ate Chrysalis? I feel bad for Chrysalis. At first I thought something happened to the Element Bearers to make them one pony. This was exquisitely done and I absolutely love it.

1852810 On the subject of whether to leave in the clue or take it out, I will say that there are some of us that LOVE finding little clues and making mental bets "I bet this is changelings! But maybe I'm wrong, let's see!" and then feeling smugly happy when we're right. :pinkiehappy: So for me I liked the clue. Though I do think taking the "green eyed" bit out was good, that wouldn't have left me making a bet with myself, that would have left me certain.

Also, I LOVED this! One of my all time favorite shorts on the site. I tend to mostly really love longer, more epic things, but this was just perfect. Seriously amazing.

Hm, it never occurred to me that a changeling would copy the memories of a pony that it shape-shifted into. And I don't think Chrysalis recognized Twilight when she was copying Cadance in A Canterlot Wedding, so that might be a contradiction.

Also, while I've seen many other changeling fics suggest that changelings, or at least just their queen, can feel love toward the rest of the swarm's members and offer it as sustenance (an idea I find utterly absurd), this might be one of the few, if not the first I've read, to suggest that changelings can parasitize their own kind this way. However, I didn't really get much out of the Sad tag on this. Unlike the people in the comments who've said they might feel sorry for changelings after reading this, including Bad Horse when he recommended this to Seattle's Angels, I actually felt more contempt for them. Maybe I should feel sorry for Chrysalis as she's being fed off of, but let's face it; she probably fed just as greedily and heartlessly on the Chrysalis before her.

What a beautifully twisted take on the changelings. I didn't catch it until the twist was revealed, but going by the comments, I think I probably would've if I'd read one of the earlier versions. Though, as the story stands right now, it caught me nicely by surprise. Changelings assuming the identity of whoever they feed on is a fascinating concept, and it was at once both chilling and tremendously imaginative.

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