//------------------------------// // Fearful happenings // Story: Malodorous Development // by kudzuhaiku //------------------------------// Pacing to and fro, Twilight Sparkle considered every word that Celaeno had said. The poor harpy was frantic, frightened, and had trouble speaking in whole sentences. Of course, she was worried about her best friend, and Twilight was sympathetic, she understood. As for Stinkbug himself, well, Twilight didn’t know enough about changelings to know if he was okay or not. Poor Stinkbug’s stink had been stolen from him, and Twilight didn’t know if it would ever come back or not. It might be temporary, or it could be permanent. Stinkbug’s stink was highly magical, alchemical in nature. He was a living, breathing alchemy lab, with complex organs dedicated to the creation of chemical and alchemical compounds. He could make all manner of acids, adhesives, healing agents, mucus that hardened into armor, and of course, his signature speciality, stink. Nothing stunk like Stinkbug. Except now, Stinkbug had no stink to speak of. Celaeno had quieted and the goat-headed predatory bird was now composing herself while she perched on the arm of a sofa. Even in her agitated state, she was careful, cautious, and considerate with her claws. Twilight counted both Celaeno and Stinkbug as friends, close friends even, and to see them in such a state was quite upsetting. Upon having a moment of realisation, Twilight turned to face the poor, distraught harpy. Celaeno was entirely unbothered by bad smells, but she too had been subjected to a terrific stink. The one creature that was entirely unphased by Stinkbug’s epic stench had been made to smell… something. Not even Moondancer was immune to Stinkbug’s signature aroma, but like Maud Pie, she tolerated it through sheer stoic stubbornness. Twilight began to worry about her longtime friend, Moondancer. Vinyl Scratch’s workshop… “Mistakes, Sumac. Life is all about making mistakes.” Vinyl glanced at the camera for a moment, but then returned her attention to her apprentice. “We made a mistake with our first attempt, but with our second attempt, we had all kinds of new ideas that we implemented. Progress happens because of mistakes.” Chewing on a curried paneer pasty, Sumac nodded. On the workbench, there were a half a dozen photographs, each of which smelled like something different. Curried paneer pasties, flowers, sawdust, tomato and pumpkin soup, the random aromas of everyday life. Even though everything worked, Vinyl knew that they could do better if they applied themselves. But first, a lesson had to be taught. Above all else, she took this seriously. “We have to own our mistakes, Sumac.” “I try,” he said around a mouthful of curried paneer and crusty pasty crust. “What about my father’s mistakes?” “Sumac—” The colt plowed on, not allowing Vinyl to get a word in edgewise. “Being good is hard, Vinyl. Every day, I have to think about everything I do. Every word I say. Because I can’t just say whatever I feel like. And sometimes, I’m tempted… which is normal I guess, every foal is tempted to do bad stuff. But I can’t be like other foals ‘cause of who and what I am. Everypony is watching me. If I screw up, it’s not because I’m a bad foal, it’s ‘cause I’m turning out like my father. I’m so scared to make mistakes, Vinyl. The pressure, it’s getting to me. I can never let my guard down or relax and I stay tense all the time.” “Sumac, we talked about this—” “You talked about this… I just sat there and listened. It’s not sorted out.” Vinyl could hear the faint whine building in Sumac’s voice, like a teapot preparing to boil, and she knew that it was time to pull him from the burner. He was, as always, moody. His mood could go from cheerful and fine to broody and depressed in the span of an eyeblink. She had fixed the camera and got it working, but now her apprentice needed sorting out somehow. He was quite a bit more complex, but no less fixable. Sooner or later, through trial and error, she was confident that she could sort him out. “That’s fair,” she said to him, her first effort at making things better. No sign of progress could be seen. He took another bite of his curried paneer pasty and then sat there, chewing thoughtfully. With each motion of his jaw, his ears bobbed, and Vinyl couldn’t help it, she found this irresistibly adorable, but she dared not point this out, as Sumac, like other colts, absolutely did not want to know how adorable and cute they were. Under no circumstances did they wish to hear a mare gushing about how positively precious they were. She had made this mistake in the past, and had since learned from it. It didn’t stop her from silently enjoying it however. “I wish,” he began, still chewing, “that I was free to make mistakes on my own, without everypony trying to second-guess why I’m making them or if I have some unseen motive. I wish there was some way to let everypony know just how hard I work to be good.” Sumac shook his head. “As bad as it sounds, I wish everypony knew that I struggled. Being good is not easy for me, and I wish they knew. It’d be nice if ponies appreciated what I did. My dad is a tree. And that tree casts quite a shadow on me.” Saying nothing, Vinyl picked up a still-warm curried paneer pasty, heated it until steam rose from the crust, and then sat there holding on to it while it cooled back down enough to take a bite. Sumac’s endless struggle to be good. Vinyl wished that somehow, she could get it through his head that his struggle to be good is what made him good, but try as she might, try as his mothers might, and everypony else that was in his life, Sumac resisted this truth and lived in constant anxiety. Not even Pebble could reassure Sumac that he was good. Princess Twilight Sparkle’s magical castle of friendship… Moondancer did not look well. Her sweater was far more rumpled than usual, her eyebrow wasn’t nearly as expressive, her glasses were crooked, and something about Moondancer just seemed… off. She was sweaty, which was weird. Something about her eyes wasn’t quite right either, because she had a thousand-yard vacant stare. She had appeared in the room quite suddenly and without warning, and hadn’t said a word. Twilight, silent, waited, trying to give her friend time to recover herself. Whatever had happened was clearly traumatic and the last thing that somepony needed after experiencing trauma was an endless series of questions—though Twilight was growing impatient for answers. Pinkie Pie was still comforting Stinkbug, Maud was looking after Celaeno, and Spike stood nearby, anxiously flexing his claws while staring at Moondancer. The quiet was becoming unbearable, far too prolonged, and though Moondancer was licking her lips, nothing had been said. Just as Twilight was about to banish the silence, Moondancer spoke. “Twilight… I have smelled… forever.” Hearing this, Twilight felt her blood run cold and there was an unpleasant prickle in her wings. She shivered; it wasn’t like Moondancer to make jokes or to make light of the situation. If Moondancer made such a claim, then something beyond Moondancer’s understanding had actually happened. This was terrifying. “Twilight… I have smelled colours beyond time and space. The world… no, the galaxy is not ready for what I have witnessed. I have smelled how the world will end.” “Moondancer, that’s—” “It’s smart, Twilight. It spoke to me, and was rather erudite. I unwittingly became its teacher, Twilight.” “The stink is smart?” asked Pinkie. Moondancer suddenly became herself again. Fierce light shone within her eyes, her sweater rumpled in just the right way, and her eyebrow beetled in a determined, focused position. “Pinkie, what we have here is what we refer to as a focused non-terminal repeating phantasm, or a Class Five Full Roaming Vapour. But not for long. It’s growing. Gaining strength.” “It stole Stinkbug’s magic, I think,” said Pinkie to Moondancer. “I think you are correct.” Moondancer’s head swiveled and her piercing stare came to rest upon Stinkbug. “The worst possible scenario. It was out cataloging olfactory input and found olfactory magic. It is using illusion, but in a way I do not yet understand. Since it isn’t physical, but rather, non- corporeal, it seems impossible to defend from. It’s not real, in the strictest sense of the word, so all of the common defense methods are nullified. It is entirely intangible. Imagination made real.” “Moondancer, you need to tell me everything that happened,” Twilight said. “I need a full report.” “Check my data,” replied Moondancer. “I need a cup of tea, if you don’t mind. This bad science has left quite a taste in my mouth.” Moondancer could always be counted on to be methodical. Her autonomous data collection probes wrote all manner of relevant data and details into specially prepared journals, burning the words onto the pages. There was a lot to sort through, whole pages, but Twilight worried that there wasn’t enough time. The stink was out there, growing stronger, getting smarter, and it had just about broken a tough nut to crack. How had it managed to bypass Moondancer’s defenses? “We need to evacuate Ponyville,” Twilight said to those around her. Maud was the one who responded. “Twilight?” “I plan to try and reason with the monster, whatever that is. Should that fail, conflict is inevitable.” Twilight felt a growing lump in her throat. “Standard evac plan. Get everypony to the Castle of the Two Sisters and into the bunker there.” “And what is going to stop that thing from going into the bunker?” asked Moondancer. “I… don’t… I don’t know.” Frustrated, Twilight bit her lip. Now that Moondancer had said something, Twilight wasn’t sure if the bunker would actually keep the citizens of Ponyville safe. Would an evacuation even accomplish anything, other than panic? “Conflict and combat seem inevitable. Unavoidable. It would still be wise to evacuate. Perhaps we follow the open roaming plan just to get everypony out of the danger zone.” Twilight’s gaze fell upon Maud and she wished that she had the same stony stoicism. Maud had to be worried. Tarnish was out there somewhere, along with their foals. Yet, Maud was here… doing whatever it was that Maud did, now that she had recovered her senses a bit. It was hard to say what it was exactly that Maud was doing, yet, Twilight knew that she was better off with Maud than without her. Maud was the reassuring rock. “Spike…” “Yeah?” “You’re in charge of civil issues while I’m out. Moondancer, begin our martial preparations. If something happens to me, resort to the standard fallback plan. Sound the alarms and issue a free roaming evacuation warning. Tell ponies to seek whatever shelter is available outside the city. Shut down the train service. Assemble my Spartans. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go find a stink and see if I can make friends with it.” “Good luck, Twilight.” Pinkie Pie’s voice was fraught with worry, and gave Twilight pause. Then, before anything else was said, Twilight vanished.