Scootaloo had foolishly let her guard down. She thought the matter was dropped and no longer an issue. Yes, she’d noticed an odd sense of anticipation coming from her friends that morning, but she didn’t think it had anything to do with her. Oh how wrong she was.
“Scootaloo, I have a question you’re probably not going to want to answer, but I have to ask on the off chance you can at least give me a few details,” announced Sweetie Belle.
“And I won’t want to answer it because why?” asked Scootaloo with a raised eyebrow.
“Because it’s about changeling names. You know, your real names,” said Sweetie Belle.
And so the taboo topic returned to haunt her. Scootaloo felt an incredible sense of dread well up within her. She also felt a large number of changelings in the hivemind stop what they were doing to send her mental glares. She would have to tread very carefully. She must not...
“I’m not asking you to share a really dark secret between you and your family, Scootaloo. I get it. I know that nothing short of life ruining blackmail will get you to tell us your real name. I’m just wondering about some of the details around the names. You know, like how your mother can be that bad at choosing names?” asked Sweetie Belle.
Scootaloo let out a sigh of relief. This was still going to be delicate, but at least she could give a few details and not break any oaths. Hopefully that would be enough to see the subject dropped forever.
“Well, you’re right. I don’t want to talk about it. But if you really need to know why my mom’s so bad at naming, the truth isn’t some super deep secret or anything. Some ponies just have no creativity at some things. None whatsoever,” said Scootaloo with a shake of her head.
A changeling princess’s first hatching was always a special occasion. Blue Monarch, the youngest princess, gave a soft coo as the first newborn of the clutch pulled themselves free of their egg. Blue Monarch quickly, but carefully, scooped up the little bug. The baby gave a startled hiss, but then smiled and reached for his mother as he fed on the freely given love.
“My first child. I feel so… so…” Blue Monarch managed to choke out between her tears.
Blue Monarch’s older sisters, Red Velvet and Green Glow, gave gentle, sympathetic smiles.
“Yes, it is quite the experience to hold the first of many,” admitted Green Glow.
“Even so, you’d best hurry and name him, Blue. There are many other newborns who will require your attention in short order,” reminded Red Velvet.
“Oh, yes, of course. Hm…” Blue Monarch paused and thought for a moment.
Just for a moment. Many would later consider it too far short of a moment. Especially considering how much time she’d had to come up with a name before the eggs actually hatched.
“As this is my first child, I think I’ll name him… One,” announced Blue Monarch.
Red Velvet and Green Glow stared at their sister in disbelief. But before they could say anything, a second egg finished hatching. Blue Velvet gave another coo, set down One, and picked up her second child.
“Oh, you’re just as precious as your older brother. I think I’ll name you… Two. Oh! And there’s your sister! I’ll name her Three. Oh! And there’s Four…” Blue Monarch continued.
Red Velvet and Green Glow shared an awkward look. This… was not ideal. But alas, it was too late to say anything. Egg after egg rapidly hatched, and Blue Monarch named them number after number. When it was finally over, and Twenty-Six was officially ‘named,’ Red Velvet gave a cough to get her sister's attention.
“Er… Blue? Are you certain that that’s what you want to name your children?” asked Red.
“Why wouldn’t I be certain?” asked Blue.
“Well… they’re just not very... creative?” Red Velvet awkwardly explained.
“Oh, it’s fine. I’ve been trying to come up with names for them for ages, but I just can’t seem to think of anything. But I don’t need to be creative with naming all my children. And really, they’re my kids, I can name them what I want,” replied Blue with a huff.
Red Velvet and Green Glow shared another look, and reached the same unfortunate conclusion: Blue’s children were going to hate her.
“So… what? She gave her first bunch of kids horrible names and nopony called her out on it?” asked Apple Bloom.
“Oh, everyone called her out on it. A lot. And once her first wave of kids were old enough to talk, they called her out on it as well. They all hoped that once she had her second clutch she’d give them actually half decent names, but nope. She ignored everyone and just kept the bad name train rolling,” said Scootaloo with a sigh.
Blue Velvet held up the firstborn changeling of her second clutch. Her sisters and eight year old children all watched her with a mix of hope and concern.
“I think I’ll name you… One,” announced Blue Monarch.
“What?! Mom!” cried One (the first) in outrage.
Blue Monarch looked back at her firstborn child and gave a cheerful smile. This did little to lessen the little changeling’s somewhat justified rage.
“Don’t worry, One. I won’t mess you two up. One the second is a filly, after all,” reassured Blue Monarch.
“That’s not what I’m mad about! You’re still giving them really bad names!” One yelled in outrage.
“You better not name the next one Two the second!” demand Two.
“Or any of the others! Our names suck!” cried Three.
“Agreed. I’m sorry sister, but we simply cannot allow you to name all your children single numbers. You don’t have to be exceptionally creative, but can you at least give the poor child something better than that?” asked Red Velvet.
Blue Monarch glanced between her family, all of whom were glaring at her, and the baby in her hooves, looking at her with love and affection. She let out a sigh, but seemed to be finally relenting. When the second egg hatched and Blue Monarch picked up the baby, she actually paused to think for a moment before naming it.
“Alright, I guess it would start becoming a problem if I make a habit out of it. So instead, I think I’ll name this one… Duo,” announced Blue Monarch.
The gathered family could only look at her in disbelief. Sure, it was a step up from just numbers, but…
“And I’ll name this one Trio, and this one Quad…” continued Blue Monarch.
“Geez. And this has been going on for years?” asked Apple Bloom in disbelief.
“Yep. Remember how I told you changeling royalty can live for quite a while? Despite our best efforts, and generations of changelings all telling her to stop, she still keeps giving us all terrible, terrible names,” said Scootaloo.
“Didn’t you try speaking with your queen?” asked Sweetie Belle.
“Yes, but the queen rarely gets involved with these kinds of things. It’s more of a family issue than a national one, and the entire reason we have princesses is so the queen doesn’t have to deal with family issues,” admitted Scootaloo.
“Blue Monarch,” stated queen Ptera.
The queen rarely greeted changelings called into her chamber. She simply stated their name, and expected them to take their seat promptly. As one of the princesses, Blue Monarch was well aware of this, so she didn’t voice any displeasure at being so coldly greeted by her own mother. When the queen was on the clock, the hive took precedence over everything, including family.
Of course, being queen wasn’t the kind of job that had a lot of off hours...
Regardless, Blue Monarch took her seat and waited to be spoken to.
“A matter has been brought to my attention to such a degree that I must speak to you about it,” stated queen Ptera.
“I understand, my queen. Speak, and I shall aid it whatever manner I can,” answered Blue Monarch.
To Blue Monarch’s surprise, the queen proceeded to slam a massive stack of papers onto her desk.
“I have received hundreds of complaints regarding your… unorthodox naming conventions. In paper form as well as from the hivemind. I should not have to remind you of how drastic an issue must be for changelings to bother filling out the necessary paperwork. While the raising of our citizen population rests with you and your sisters, this has clearly grown to the point that I must speak with you about it,” declared queen Ptera.
Despite being so much larger than the typical changeling, Blue Monarch suddenly felt very, very small. Was it really that bad?
“That said, I also find the nature of the complaints to be rather childish and insignificant. A name is an identity, nothing more. And as changelings, identity is a fluid matter for us. If your children dislike their names so much, there is nothing stopping them from acquiring new ones. The fact that they already use nicknames tells me that this is far from a serious matter. As such, I will not discipline you for your naming habits,” stated queen Ptera.
Blue Monarch let out a sign of relief, while there was a rather loud series of groans throughout the hivemind.
“That said, I suggest taking into account what lengths your family is willing to go to have this matter addressed and look into a possible solution. I’d rather not have my inbox cluttered with this much drivel again. And on a personal note, I feel that naming the first born of every clutch “One,” to be rather lazy and counterproductive,” stated queen Ptera.
“Oh, I know that. But at this point, the name is sort of a tradition,” replied Blue Monarch.
“A tradition that needs to die in a fire!” screamed One the seventh.
“And every single one of her kids has a horrible name? Even Twitch?” asked Apple Bloom.
“Well, Twitch was sort of a special case. He got his real name before he even hatched. But yeah, he hates his name too. He claims it’s too ‘limiting’ and ‘unimaginative.’ I shudder to think of what kind of name he actually wanted to have,” said Scootaloo with a shiver.
“Oh, what a twisted mind you have, Scootaloo. I just feel it’s uncreative. There are so much more colorful ways you could describe me,” said Twitch.
“****! Why won’t this ****ing egg come out?! It’s been twenty *****ing minutes! What the **** is wrong with this *******? This *****ing little ****! **** it! That’s what I’m ****ing naming this one! *****ing! Little! ****!!!”
“Really? Not even one of you was lucky enough to get a half decent one?” asked Sweetie Belle.
“Nope. It’s scary how consistent my mom is about this,” said Scootaloo.
“And there’s nothing y’all could do to try and spark her creativity or something?” asked Apple Bloom?
“We’ve started trying something new every time she has another clutch. All we’ve accomplished is reducing the number of repeats,” said Scootaloo with another shake of her head.
Operation: Loose Tongue was a go. If Blue Monarch couldn’t come up with good names while in a cohesive state of mind, getting her a little tipsy might do the trick. And it wasn’t like things could get any worse.
“He he he… You… you’re a cute one,” said the somewhat delirious Blue Monarch, booping the nose of one of the newly hatched.
Green Glow, who’d been running late, finally arrived at the hatching chamber. Gasping for breath, she turned towards her sister.
“So… *huff...* is it working?” she asked.
“You’re just so… so… cutsie wootsie. You’re my little… Schmoopy Coopie... Toopa Loopy,” said Blue Monarch with a giggle.
“Depends. Is the fact that this clutch got stuck with exceptionally wordy names count as working?” asked Red Velvet.
Green Glow let out a sigh of resignation. It was worth a shot, but it was still a miss.
“Did she at least…” started Green Glow.
“Nope. Oldest was still named One. Guess that little detail is too deeply integrated to be washed away,” admitted Red Velvet.
“Dang it,” cursed One the twenty-sixth.
“Geez. That must really stink. At least y'all seem to be gettin’ by without your actual names. Ah mean, Ah’d probably still call ya Scootaloo even if Ah knew your real name,” said Apple Bloom.
“Thanks for reassurance, Apple Bloom, but I’m still taking my true name to the grave with me if I can help it,” said Scootaloo.
“I highly doubt that,” snarked Poppy.
“Hey! I won’t deny my life is crazy, but that’s just taking it too far!” objected Scootaloo.
“Doesn’t change the fact that you’re going to let it slip sooner or later,” Poppy singsong-ed.
“Yeah, that’s rich coming from the filly who nearly drowned half her medical chamber,” countered Scootaloo.
“Hey! We agreed not to talk about that!” cried Poppy in outrage.
“Really? I can’t seem to recall such an agreement. It’s almost like my memory’s a little fuzzy and I might forget such a commitment. I mean, can you just imagine me breaking one of our family's most important taboos? Just how pathetic would I have to be to do that?” snarked Scootaloo.
“Shut it, Scootaloo! That’s not the same thing, and you know it!” countered Poppy.
“Glad we’re in agreement then. I’m not going to mess up, your opinion is wrong, and you’re still not allowed to mess with the sink,” taunted Scootaloo.
“Oh **** you, Loopy!” yelled Poppy.
There were numerous gasps before the hivemind felt silent. Everyone’s mental attention immediately turned towards Poppy in a mix of outrage and horror. Poppy herself suddenly felt really small and terrified.
“Uh oh,” whispered Poppy.
The hidden room in the hive was dark and somber. Hooded changelings carefully entered, and glared down at the guilty party, whose head hung low in shame. They almost seemed like a bunch of cultists about to perform a horrific sacrifice. From a certain perspective, that’s exactly what they were about to do.
Once the room was full, one of the older changelings stepped forward.
“Poppy. You have violated the most sacred and honorable code of our kind. The punishment for such a heinous act is harsh and merciless. How do you justify your blasphemy?” asked the leader.
“It was a slip of the tongue, made in anger. But that is no excuse for my crime. I humbly accept my punishment, in the hope that it will ensure I never commit such a horrid deed again,” said Poppy, with not a trace of anger or defiance in her voice.
“Your humility serves you well. May this be the only such time you suffer this fate,” said the leader, before turning towards the crowd.
“As it was decreed by the first born, no changeling shall speak the cursed title of their fellow changeling. To do so, even in jest or anger, is unforgivable. And so we must now punish this sinner, that her misdeed may be purged in the fire of shame,” announced the leader.
“Shame! Shame!” cried the crowd.
The leader turned once more to Poppy.
“And so, as it was decreed, your agony begins now. For twenty four hours, you shall only be known, and spoken to, by your curse. Rise now, Poopy Po Poo. Rise, and suffer for your sin,” declared the leader.
“Poopy Po Poo, Poopy Po Poo,” cried the crowd.
Poopy Po Poo shed a tear, but rose, and made no effort to stop the chanting of her birth name. She deserved this torture. She would weather it to the best of her ability, and never, ever, make such a mistake again.
“The rite is finished. Let us go now, back to our lives and our masks. But first, we shall recite our ancient and honorable creed,” announced the leader.
The gathered changelings, including Poopy Po Poo, all bowed their heads, before looking to the sky and crying as one:
“Thanks for nothing, mom!”
Back in her room, Blue Monarch let out a sigh. Her children were all such drama queens.