//------------------------------// // Chapter 3: Practice Makes Perfect // Story: The Nightmare Parade // by Wanderer D //------------------------------// Chapter 3: Practice Makes Perfect by Wanderer D Sweetie watched the panels on her legs opening to allow direct connection to the devices. She felt nervous. Both anxious to perform, but also scared of the euphoric rush of emotions that would kick in the moment the concert practice started. And she could feel herself trembling in anticipation, yet her body stood still as a statue, her jitters not even registering past her mind. It made her wonder just how far she actually existed. Was this really her body at all if it didn't… react like she expected? Or was she something out of one of Scootaloo's comics, and simply a 'pilot' for this body of hers? She felt so disconnected sometimes from her true self. Could this be post-implant rejection syndrome? Could it happen so late after magical cyberification? Or was she getting nervous due to the upcoming parade? It wasn't her first time in the spotlight. She had filled up stadiums both physically and virtually for the last few years on every one of her concerts. She'd done live interviews, on-the-spot performances, accepted challenges… the parade should be no different. Which meant that her anxiety came from somewhere else but— NC: How are you holding up? I can't wait to see what you have planned! This is amazing! SB: I'm doing okay, thanks for asking. I'm more concerned about you. It seems Shades convinced you to join her team. This mare… was so informal. Sweetie loved it. She felt her doubts fizzle and die. "Well be ready in a minute, Miss Belle," one of the technicians said, kneeling next to her to check the connections to her legs. "This looks good. The automated locking system seems to be working without a hitch. Just to make sure, please send a release request…" Sweetie Belle followed the instructions automatically. The panels on her leg hissed for a second as the cables detached, then slid shut. Then she had to open them again for the cables to re-attach.  "How does that feel?" the technician asked. A silly question, in a way, but she knew what he meant. Sweetie Belle tested the connections. Pinged the devices, traced them, checked their speed. "It's solid." NC: Shades? The technician nodded, then scurried away to work on some other part of the platform she stood on. It was amazing what they had done with it so far. The day before it had been nothing but a simple structure. Now the metallic surface had been painted white and rosy and purple.  The exact spot where she stood had her cutie mark painted on it. Lights and fireworks were being arranged behind her. The stage around her had been designed to look like the Everfree Forest and the Castle of the Two Sisters, not nearly as dramatic as the real thing, but impactful enough to give the necessary ambiance for a Nightmare Night Parade. It moved independently and would completely cover and envelop the area where the techs and pilots were controlling the platform. SB: Sorry, that's my nickname for Stern Label. Please don't let her know! NC: Of course not! It's a secret between you and me, just like me bypassing several layers of security to be able to DM you. Forbidden. Dangerous.  SB: As long as we don't end up covered in tree sap, I think we'll be fine. But tell me, why did you accept? Sweetie watched as the techs checked a circular, independently-moving platform. The backup dancers—all flying creatures—would do their part while she rose from among them, singing during the parade. They were all to be equipped with contrail  magitech to create a pink-to-purple rainbow behind them as they spiraled up into the air. They were no Wonderbolts, but their coordination was guaranteed thanks to the chipset implants they all had. NC: I've always admired you, ever since I was a filly. For a long time I think I had a crush on you, like so many others, but… I started studying music, and all of that changed from infatuation to respect. I'm one hundred percent your fan, but… I want to be more. I want to be someone you can rely on without questioning my intentions. I never thought that would happen, but now I have a chance to work with you for a while, if things go right. And who knows, maybe we can become friends. Friends. Sweetie hadn't seen her friends since… so long ago. It was all messages, no visits. It would be nice to have a new friend. Especially one that could hang around physically with her. SB: I'd like that. NC: Consider it done. I imagine you don't get many chances to hang out with anycreature, although I had read that you and Yumi were close. Hers was the biggest platform, with Yumi's being the second largest.  The order in which they went out was going to be symbolic too: Yumi's hard-rock would represent the chaos of the darkest night when Nightmare Moon had covered the world in darkness. The parade boasted over forty floats envisioning how Celestia and Nightmare Moon had fought through the night. The parade itself was full of floats envisioning how Celestia and Nightmare Moon had fought through the night until she was banished, and of course Sweetie represented the coming of light. It was a cool idea, but thinking about it brought to her mind Yumi's strange attitude. Had she not automatically pinged her, she would've thought it was a completely different Yak. Had her breakdown really caused such a massive change in personality? Or was it an act? She tried to think of something else, concentrating on the stage manager as she went over what would be happening during the parade. Once they reached the city center, the platforms small and large would connect into a floating stage big enough for a large amount of ticket-paying attendees to get onto, and the concert would begin. Yumi would open for Sweetie, and then Sweetie would take over and wrap the whole thing up with an hour of entertainment for the masses physically in Sol City, and of course the millions of viewers streaming the concert. NC: And here comes my part! SB: Don't get too excited now, they might change it if you seem excessively eager. NC: That would suck. Neon Clove's role in all of this would be as one of the 'guards' around Sweetie Belle, since they weren't required to do much other than very simple moves. After announcing her as the winner, she'd be putting on one of the helmets and joining the others on stage. For her part, Sweetie was being fitted with decorative cyber-wings. In addition to that, holograms and magic would give her massive wings of light that she'd be able to flap as if they were real. The panels under her hooves were designed to essentially move and transform from a flat platform to a slowly growing tower where she would gaze down at all creatures and declare Nightmare Night (or at least the concert) over. The anticipation within her grew, and she couldn't shake the feeling that there was something very wrong abou— She struck a pose, smiled brightly, ready to take on the world! Neon Clove was such a cutie, she'd be a perfect partner here and part of her team! The world woul— Sweetie came to, not knowing where she was or how she had gotten there. It took her a moment to realize her whole body had just slumped down; she would've fallen to her knees were they not locked in place by the platform. "Sorry!" the tech at the deck shouted across the set, an uninterested, uncaring shout, devoid of any concern for her well-being. "I cut the feed!" "Sweetie, are you alright?!" Neon Clove cried, rushing to her side. "Miss Clove, I understand you've never been part of a set like this…" Shades started to speak, but she took a look at Sweetie and her expression hardened. "You see it, right?" Neon Clove asked, getting right in Sweetie's face. She was so close Sweetie would have blushed if she still could. "Sweetie, can you hear me?" "I can!" Sweetie giggled. "I feel horrible! I'm not in this great mood! I hate what's happening to me! What's happening? Why am I laughing?" "How bad is it?" Shades asked softly.  "I… I'm not sure, I'm not qualified to work on someone like Sweetie Belle," Neon Clove said. "I don't think it's going to last too long right now, but there could be potential chronic damage even if it doesn't seem severe right now." Sweetie giggled, horrified. "Well, you are certified enough to help with the emotional overload," Shade said firmly. "Please help her with that while I get one of the other technicians here." "I—of course." Shade turned around, furious, and stomped over to the technician who had messed up. Sweetie could hear her shouting at the pony. She could see Clove hovering near her, but her vision was spasmodic. It blurred, pixelated and changed colors. After hot-plugging into one of her lower neck jacks, apps flashed through Sweetie's GUI as Neon Clove ran several programs one after the other and soon, she found the euphoria was gone. She was able to stop giggling and trying to dance.  "That moron," Clove whispered, unplugging. "Sweetie… please run a scan right now. Has he been testing your system compatibility like that?" Sweetie ran diagnostics and heard her own voice distort and stutter as she responded, "Yes. I-I-I th-th-th-thought that's how it w-w-w-w-w-orked." "No, it's not. Okay, it seems it didn't affect your cognitive responses. This idiot was treating you like a 'bot, and not an organic being," the other mare responded. "What was he thinking?!" As if to echo what Neon Clove had said, Shade's voice raised in anger. "She's not a robot, you dim-witted jackass! Security, escort him out of the premises. He is to be detained until an investigation into the damage he caused has been completed." Soon, Shade was back with them. "How is she doing?" "I stopped the emotional overrides," Neon Clove said as a pair of technicians rushed over to perform their own checks. "It was stuck on a loop because its normal runtime got interrupted by the overload. Still, it seems from the logs that your tech here has been using Sweetie like a lightswitch." Shades turned to the techs. "Do we need to cancel the concert?" "We can't detect any damage from what we can see," one of the techs said. "This young lady did a thorough job cleaning up that code." "And she is right, the logs do report that Voltmeter was forcing Sweetie from base emotion to full party-pony in a single jump." He shook his head. "I'll be honest, Miss Label, were Sweetie Belle a lesser pony, she would be broken already. I'm no psychologist, but it doesn't take a specialist to know that ain't healthy." "Sweetie?" Shades asked. "I can find somecreature to cover for you an—" "No…" Sweetie said, shaking her head. The moment Shade had started to say that, she'd felt a horrifying sense of dread, as if her life hung on the line. A very thin line, where the label might declare her unfit to continue as she was. What if she did tell them that she was exhausted? That she couldn't force herself to continue this? Would the label then… do to her whatever they had done to Yumi? They had done something. They had changed her friend. Is this what was going to happen to her? She had control of her body once more. Slowly she disengaged from the cables and sat down, taking a moment to study everycreature from the pegasus and hippogriff dancers, to the ponies around her, and even the griffons and yaks looking up to her from Yumi's platform. "No," she repeated louder. "We've all put too much into this to back down now… I'll take a break after the concert. I'll get checked and go to therapy, but we can't stop now." NC: Are you sure? This could be dangerous. SB: I don't want whatever happened to Yumi to happen to me. NC: We still have to look into that… SB: I know Yumi. We were almost friends, if time and the label had permitted. I knew her well enough to know that's… that can't be her. Can you make this work for me? "We don't have a tech that can work that," one of the technicians was telling Shade. "Can you help, Neon Clove?" Sweetie asked aloud. The other mare gave her a long, reluctant look. "I can help," Neon Clove said, sighing and giving Sweetie a glance before looking at the others. "My empathic app should be compatible. If we can figure out a safe range for Sweetie, we can enter those parameters and set a rollback command if it exceeds them or gets close to the threshold." She turned to look at Sweetie Belle. "Sweetie, after what you went through… it's a risk, no matter which of us does it. Are you sure?" "It's fine," Sweetie insisted. "I'll get checked after the concert. This is too big to stop." They all turned to look at Label, who frowned. "Fine. You three work together on the empathic module. Sweetie, I want you to rest in the meantime." She turned to face everycreature else. "Okay, carry on with practice! Sweetie Belle is fine, she just needs a break!" There was some cheering from the cast as they all headed to practice their routines, and Shades walked with Sweetie off to the side, where her make-up room was set up for her. Shades kept giving her sidelong glances, which was getting under her nerves, but she didn't dare snap at her manager. It took Sweetie a moment to realize that she wasn't simply scared—she was terrified. She didn't just feel anxious about what had happened… it painfully drove home how much control the label already had over her. How replaceable she was. Was Shades actually worried for her? Or was she planning something if Sweetie did not perform as requested? Would she really risk her job for Sweetie by canceling or postponing an event that cost billions? Of course not. Shades had other plans if Sweetie was not up to par… and she had the nagging feeling that it wasn't the first time. She needed help. She needed her friends. Neon Clove was nice, but she had just met her. Where were Scootaloo and Apple Bloom? Where was… where was Rarity? She felt a headache coming. Everything was so confusing! When was the last time she had talked to them? Shades said last week but… was it true? She… had a feeling like she had, but she couldn't remember details of the conversation. She could almost feel her heart beating hard against her chest, feel the wheeze of air as she hyperventilated, but… she didn't have an organic heart or lungs. She needed to think. She needed to think! She didn't trust Shades. She didn't trust her mechanics and technicians. Yumi was… not Yumi. Who… the only option was new, untested and… who else did she have? SB: Neon Clove? NC: Hi Sweetie, are you feeling better? We are almost done here. Don't worry, this is not going to be anything like what you went through before. I promise. SB: I'm—I'm not okay, Clove. I need help. Please help me. NC: I'll head over righ— SB: No. Don't come over. Don't raise suspicion. I need you to contact my friends… my sister. I need to talk to them. Sweetie waited for a response, but this time, it wasn't immediate. She started to get nervous. Why wasn't Neon Clove answering? She surreptitiously glanced at the techs working on the deck, and she could see her possible-friend there working. "I'm sure they'll sort it out, Sweetie," Shades said, mistaking the reason behind her anxiety. "I've read some of Clove's thesis, she's truly skilled. I am glad we're hiring her." "Right… of course." A ping. NC: It's going to be hard to get you straight communication to anycreature without raising all sorts of alarms. We can talk like this because I'm in what amounts to your personal network. Punching through a corps' security to get you that freedom… who do you have in mind? SB: Apple Bloom or Scootaloo… or Rarity. Maybe even Twilight Sparkle. NC: The Twilight Sparkle? Sweetie, to get to her you'd need to punch through the Moonflow. Sweetie paused. What did that have to do with anything? SB: Isn't that just to keep aggressive Magical CyberSprites away? NC: I suppose, on a basic level, but Princess Twilight crossed into the Moonflow a long time ago. SB: But… "Well, it seems they have it set up!" Shades said, trotting up to Sweetie. "How are you feeling?" "I—I feel better. Do you think I could talk to Twilight after the parade?" Stern Label smiled. "Of course, Sweetie. I'm sure we can get her on the line for you. If that's what you want. Although I thought you were not getting along." Sweetie smiled. "Some things were said, but I think it's time to bury the hatchet, as Apple Bloom would say."