//------------------------------// // 1/31/2022 - Chapter 41 - Furious Recollection // Story: The Stereotypical Drafts // by JinxTJL //------------------------------// I have no idea where this got cut from! Enjoy! ////////// Bridge ////////// "Subterfuge and sabotage of this nature has existed for as long as ponies themselves, and it is my personal belief that there is no shame in what might be called 'dirty tactics' by some." She rolled Her eyes at that, before shaking Her head and sighing. "Yes, it seems that the subtle art of espionage and trickery have been suppressed, as so many things have." She made several, small 'tsk'ing noises, before the shake of Her head stopped as She raised it to him. "Conflict is not the same as it was when I left. My sister seems intent on the notion that peace is sustainable, and She and the so-called 'enlightened' company She surrounds Herself with have seen fit to conduct their business with straight shoes." Her voice as She spoke was as mellow and distant from the topic as it always was, but he didn't need Her special lessons in noticing tics to see the strained muscles in Her jaw. This topic was more upsetting to Her than how She was presenting it, even as She made a show of snorting in mocking derision. "Even those Celestia would kidnap to induct into Her 'special forces' lack a certain backbone, as I'm sure you know." Her glittering eyes landed on him meaningfully, as Her head tilted in a gesture of pointing. The sudden focus was a little uncomfortable, but not nearly as much as what She was urging him to remember. He only knew of what She was talking about through the little She'd told him, and what even littler he'd seen through his commandeered body's eyes. Absolutely incomprehensible at the time, but rather like the memory of looking through a peephole in hindsight. That 'agent' that had come to his house to subdue him, who'd used his dwindling grasp on reality to trick him into opening the door for somepony he trusted: that's what She was talking about. Part of some kind of secret service that the Crown managed? Apparently trained from childhood? He clicked his tongue, and searched the corners of his vision. "..She seemed pretty... um.. sufficient to me," he admitted, frowning at Nightmare Moon questioningly. "She was able to knock you out, wasn't She?" If he wasn't so preoccupied with sifting through a pile of mostly worthless, blurry memory snapshots: he would've had the brain to think that maybe it wasn't a great idea to bring up the angry Goddess's loss. Something he wouldn't realize until after She scowled at his comment. But as it was, She didn't seem intent on hurting him for the reminder. "If you recall, I was in an extremely limiting form at the time," She said tersely, narrowing Her eyes at him. She grimaced a second later, as if just remembering the details Herself, before turning huffily away from him. "My point lies elsewhere, besides. The candy maker's combat ability has little bearing; She would stand for less than a minute against me now." The tight line of Her jaw as She seethed on that point for a moment made him think that maybe there was a grudge, there. An interesting little hint there, though; one that he wasn't sure She'd even meant to leave, flustered as She outwardly seemed. That agent was a candy maker. That time at his house hadn't been the first or last time he'd seen her, but he'd never had a chance to peek at her cutie mark; so this was the first he was hearing of what he guessed was her regular profession. That was good to know in case he might ever need to track her down, for whatever reason. Maybe for revenge? A cough brought his wandering eyes and mind back to the present, where Nightmare Moon was staring at him again. He blinked, and stood to his best attention as the daydream of a burning house floated away. She stared at him with a furrowed gaze for a moment, as if seeing in his eyes the sordid deeds he was considering. "...Yes, as I was saying: it is not a matter of how she fares in combat, but her methods." The corner of Her mouth turned up in a disgusted seethe. "The greatest standing threat to her kingdom's safety, and she made due with simple vigil; instead of ending the threat then and there. Even my sister, living and knowing as She does: would do as little as lidding the problem and hoping for a solution!" ////////// A cut from a cut ////////// "To think, that after all these years, my sister would not have changed at all. Still standing tall with Her shiny veneer of righteousness, fooling Her entire nation into believing She can do no wrong: all the while concocting the most vile and unbearable of tortures upon Her enemies!" As She spoke, bigger and bigger drips of fury leaked their way into Her voice, until She was practically screaming Her words. He couldn't do much more than back slowly away, as Her eyes faded into a glassy stare, and She howled Her words at the empty space in front of Her. "What farce! What decadence! She who would covet the stars themselves, stepping on whatever and whoever would dare to stand contented! Miserable wretch living in such fear of change that She would lock Her sister away for the rest of time rather than just open Her ear!" Her wings unfurled as She went on, though Her body did little else to react to what Her mouth was saying. Each screamed syllable was a large, sweeping motion of Her exaggerated jaw, but Her head just stayed strangely still through it all. It captured his attention oddly through the more immediate noise. The sheer discrepancy in action stopped him in his tracks before he edged too far, and he could only watch in cold fascination at the total, almost contrived contradiction before him. ////////// Back to the revised cut ////////// "It is sickening," She spat harshly, as Her voice grew more severe. "That my sister would have changed so little from the time I knew Her. Her reigning pathology continues to persist, while those who follow Her are blind to little but Her light. Still just throwing problems passively to the side..." She finished with a cold snap to Her voice, and She did little but stare darkly ahead in the moments after. Even as he waited, and coughed to get Her attention: She seemed... lost, in some kind of far-off daydream. Her guarded eyes didn't say much about what She was thinking, and most of Her body was hidden by Her laying posture. Very few clues, and he was beginning to understand what it was like to talk to him. She seemed very upset about the conflict with Her sister, though She still wasn't saying much about it. He understood that some vague event that evaded elaboration took place about one thousand years ago, which ended with Nightmare Moon's imprisonment in the moon. And that was about all he knew, since his source of information was Nightmare Moon Herself, and She had always become too angry to talk more about it at that point. He could infer that She was probably the mythical 'monster' from the mysterious Banishing War that had restarted the calendar, but that didn't help much, since the war itself was undocumented. What else was there from history class? Was there something about a crusade against knowledge? Because he kind of remembered that. His unsuccessful musing was interrupted as Nightmare Moon seemed to bring Herself out of Her trance with a deep breath.