//------------------------------// // Market Penetration // Story: Changeling Blood // by Wise Cracker //------------------------------// Chapter 3: Market Penetration Bastion flew over to the pink Earth pony filly, waving to his Earth pony mom as he went out the door. His backpack unbalanced him slightly as the weight shifted around, forcing him to fly in an awkward posture but not really pushing him down too much. “Hi, Bastion,” the filly greeted. “Uh, hi. It’s Pinna, right? You’re Berry Punch’s sister?” “It’s Peenya, Piña Colada. And yeah, Berry’s my big sis. Why do you ask? You’ve got an idea for the assignment?” “Sort of, but I don’t know if it’s a good one, and Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon might not like it. Do you have any ideas?” “Not yet, but my sister’s got plenty of recipes for drinks I can try. So what’s your idea?” “Selling a drink, like you. Your sister already had a sip and she didn’t think it was too bad, but I guess she’d have different tastes, what with her work and all.” The filly perked her ears. “Oh, and you’re wondering if other ponies would like it, right? If you’ve got some, I could try it for you.” “Thanks,” he answered nervously, getting out a little bottle from his backpack. “It’s this. It’s kind of a special thing changelings make. You’re not allergic to anything, are you?” “No,” the filly replied, before raising an eyebrow in thought. “Do changelings ever get allergies?” “Not really. It’s something that comes with a shape, so we can switch it on and off like that. And we have a herbal remedy for anyone born with it in their normal form.” The filly stopped and inspected the plastic bottle. He’d just taken a normal water bottle and filled it up with a reddish liquid, from the looks of it. Holding it up to inspect, she figured it looked like some kind of red berry lemonade, a light fizz forming on top. “Did you make this all on your own?” She had just a hint of surprise in her voice. “Kind of. I tried to make it like I remember, but I never made it myself back at the Hive. I had to work from taste, and the mix might be a little off. Your sister still liked it, though.” “So this is from that care package they sent you,” Piña remarked. “Part of the mix is. Ramp, one of the advisors, sent me a of couple things to help feel at home. I don’t really know what I’m supposed to do with it, so I thought ‘Might as well try this’.” “Well, it looks pretty good.” After uncapping the bottle, Piña took a swig. She licked her lips, then looked at the red liquid. “It’s a little too sweet, but it’s pretty tasty. You’re planning to sell this? Can you make more of it, I mean?” “Uh huh. But I was hoping to ask your sister about mixing it up a little better. You like it?” The filly nodded, before returning the bottle and resuming her walk to school. “It’s different, but it’s good. If you know the name, I think Berry could look up the right recipe. She’s got lots of books, even stuff you can’t find in the library. I wouldn’t even mind selling it for you, if you could get more.” He blushed. “That was what you were thinking, right? Cover more ground to sell to more ponies?” the filly continued coyly. She smirked a little at his shy reaction. “Yes, actually. Your sister said you live on the west end of Ponyville? I mean, if you don’t mind, you could sell to ponies in that part of town. It’d save us some time.” “Yeah, it’s a good idea. Miss Cheerilee said we were allowed to get help. I could sell your stuff along with whatever I decide to make, if you keep the price fair." “So umm… why did you come all the way over here, if you live on the other end of town?” the boy asked softly, trying to keep the conversation going. “To pick up my special lunch; my sister makes the best banana jam. What about you?” “What about me?” Bastion cringed a little at the question, embarrassed. “Your mom was going to walk you to school, I noticed. And I saw you yesterday. You went home with Scootaloo. Why would she have to walk you home Are you scared of anything?” He averted his gaze. “It’s just a rule. I’m not supposed to walk around town alone. Ever. It’s a long story.” “No problem. If Scootaloo doesn’t feel like it, I can walk you home sometime. You could explain it then.” He stopped to stare at her a little at that. “What? With something like that, ponies are gonna find out sooner or later, and they won’t mind when they do, trust me. A lot of ponies around here are a little weird like that. And you know, your moms have kind of a reputation, too. You probably don’t know this, but… Lyra’s been known to just totally freak out sometimes, and Bon Bon can be –“ Bastion gulped when no more words came. “I’m sorry. I really shouldn’t badmouth your moms.” Piña blushed and tried to hide her embarrassment with a smile. “It’s okay. I mean, I am still getting to know them. If anything ever goes wrong and they get upset, a little warning of what might happen would be nice. So what does my Earth pony mom do?” “Nothing bad, but she just has this habit of being a little snappy with ponies. She can say some mean things when she gets annoyed, but she doesn’t mean it.” Bastion weighed her words in his head. “Oh. Really? I haven’t noticed that at all. And she’s gotten a little annoyed with me around.” She smiled. “I guess you’re just a good influence, then.” “Thanks,” the boy replied with a nervous tone. “And if you don’t feel like talking, you know you don’t really have to, right?” Piña leaned in a little, just to make him feel easier. “I know. It’s just complicated, and I kinda want to get life going here before I start talking about my old life. It’s just been going a little fast, if that makes any sense.” The school came into view in the distance, some pegasus foals already flying in. “Makes perfect sense. Don’t worry; Ponyville’s a nice place. You’ll fit right in if you just try.” Bastion nodded. From the filly’s perspective, it almost looked like he was clenching his teeth. “Soo… are you gonna tell me what I just drank? I might know it.” She leaned in again with an encouraging smile. Bastion gulped in some air. “Umm… it’s changeling blood.” “Now then, class, let’s review our tables of multiplication,” Cheerilee started, ”Two times ten is?” “Twenty,” the whole class slowly recounted. They almost seemed to drone their response, as was the norm for things they’d repeated time and time again. Though it didn’t exactly sound enthusiastic, at least the children always gave their answer in time with each other. It was a routine they’d all learned. Question, breathe in, answer, always in the same steady rhythm. “Six times four is?” “Twenty-four,” they all sounded in unison, slowly and calmly. All except Bastion, that is. Cheerilee looked at him with a gentle smile. “Bastion, you do know your tables of multiplication, right?” Cheerilee asked as she looked at the quiet boy. “Yes, I do.” He shuffled nervously in his seat, his eyes darting towards the exit. “Then join in with the class. We’re just going over some simple questions. So, class, six times five?” the teacher asked again. “Thirty,” Bastion replied before anyone could get a word in. All of a sudden, his eyes got fixed on the teacher. The class fell silent. “Right. Nine times six?” Cheerilee asked the class. “Fifty-four,” the changeling answered in a flash, like he didn’t even have to think about it. Scootaloo turned her head his way to check. His posture was less stiff than yesterday, but his eyes looked weird. He looked out of it, and his blinks were slower than normal. Cheerilee stared at him for a moment, then took a deep breath as she tensed up. “Nine times thirty-six?” she continued, speaking quicker. “Three hundred twenty-four,” the changeling replied, again rushing to it like it was a pop quiz or something. Scootaloo was getting worried at this point. “Twenty-three times forty-two?” Cheerilee asked in her rushed tone, completely ignoring the rest of the class by now. “Nine hundred sixty-six,” came another quick reply. Cheerilee didn’t even bother pausing to think if he was right, she just fired her next question. “One hundred seventy four times twenty-nine?” Bastion grimaced, then started rubbing his head. He shuffled in his seat and bared his teeth as some sort of pain seemed to shoot through his head, judging from how he twitched. His breath quickened and his wings filled the room with a flickering buzz. “I-I don’t know…” he stammered, suppressing a sob. Cheerilee nodded and smiled, but it did nothing to hide the obvious tension. “It’s alright, Bastion. That’s a little advanced for this class, but I can see you’ve had a good head start. Alright, class, take your books out and we’ll start doing some practical problems.” As the foals shuffled through their bags to get their books out, Scootaloo kept stealing glances towards Bastion and Cheerilee. Their teacher was looking a little shaken for some reason. Everypony else noticed it, too, but Apple Bloom didn’t seem to care, and Piña Colada looked almost sad at the reaction the boy had gotten. The pegasus filly turned her attention to the exercise at hoof, another marketplace example like the ones they’d been doing the past few weeks. Bastion floated his pencil over the draft papers as the foals worked it out, moving furiously as he rushed to get the answer long before anyone else did. Scootaloo shook her head and focused on her task. It took her a while to get all the numbers figured out, but she finished with her answer about as fast as everypony else. Yet when she looked up again, she noticed the oddest thing; Bastion had dropped his pencil from any magic hold and was trying to write with his mouth. Granted, that was how most ponies wrote, but from the looks of it he wasn’t managing much more than a few messy squiggles. It almost looked like he wanted to mimic the rest of class somehow. The orange filly turned her head towards the blackboard, determined not to let him distract her. There was something weird about him, though, she was sure of it. The bell sounded, marking break time. The foals all got up from their benches, but Bastion stopped Apple Bloom before she could make good her exit. He handed her the ball he’d popped the other day. “Here, I fixed your ball. Sorry again.” She stared at him blankly, then reluctantly accepted her ball. “I told you, Bastion, it’s just a ball. Stop making a fuss about it and just be careful next time, alright? I’ll be careful with you, too.” “You don’t have to. You said I count as an Earth pony, so we’ll play like I’m an Earth pony. That’s fair, right?” Scootaloo raised an eyebrow at her friend’s behaviour. Apple Bloom kept her back turned to the changeling as she rolled her eyes, like she honestly didn’t give a flying feather about what he had to say. She was being downright rude, and Bastion didn’t even realise it. Scootaloo looked at Sweetie Belle as the rest of class had already streamed out to play. They were both thinking the same thing, she was sure of it. “What’s gotten into Apple Bloom?” “Bastion? Could I please have a word with you?” Cheerilee asked, snapping the girls out of their reverie. The changeling lowered his ears at the mare’s tone, cringing a little. He turned away from the door just as the Cutie Mark Crusaders went outside, making Scootaloo wonder if he’d done something wrong. He’d answered pretty quickly, but somehow she didn’t think that would be an issue. She didn’t want to eavesdrop, though, not with her teacher and the new kid involved. Cheerilee closed the door behind them, and checked the window to ensure no one else would hear. “You know why I want to talk to you, don’t you?” He shivered as he nodded. “I answered too quickly. I’m sorry, I didn’t know I was supposed to wait.” “You’re not, Bastion. It’s good that you want to answer right away, but I’m just a bit concerned. Lyra told me about what sort of lessons you got at your hive. You were taught to think quick, right? Rapid-fire questions, fast answers?” She kept her voice as even as she could, a necessity when dealing with a touchy subject like this one. Some fear slipped through, though, and the changeling’s wings buzzed nervously as he caught it. The boy nodded with a wince. “That’s bad, huh?” Cheerilee took a deep breath, looking for the right words. “Yes. It is actually a bad thing, in some ways. It’s good in some other ways, though. You’re very good at maths, that’s a plus. Even a lot of adult ponies can’t count that fast without an abacus.” “So I’m smarter because of the way they taught me? Do you teach that way sometimes, then?” he asked, smiling hopefully. “No. Here we let you think about the answer, even if it’s a test. The other way is… well, bad.” “Does that mean that I’m bad?” “No, Bastion, no, not at all. It just means someone tried to teach you bad habit, nothing more,” the mare explained. “But I am smart, right? Do I need to be less smart? I could give a wrong answer sometimes to make up for it.” “No. Look,” she started, lying down to get to his eye level. “The problem isn’t your answers, it’s the fact that you answer so quickly. You answer without thinking about it.” He frowned in confusion. “But I’m still right, aren’t I?” “Yes, but you’ve gotten into the habit of answering without thinking. You’ve gotten used to a conditioned response. While that does mean you learned a lot of things and you can think quickly, it’s not a very good habit for you.” “Really? How come?” Cheerilee bit her lip. She averted her gaze for a moment, before steeling her resolve. “If you make a habit of doing things without thinking, it’s a lot easier to stop thinking altogether. Do you understand why that’s a problem?” He gave her a confused look. “No?” “Let me ask you this, then: do you feel any different when you start thinking so quickly? Does answering so fast make you feel any smarter or happy with the praise?” She kept a close eye on his reaction, particularly his body language. He was tense, but not rigid, not yet. The changeling grimaced at the thought, and his wings buzzed again with nerves. “No, it doesn’t. It’s just something I do. I don’t really feel anything. Like it’s mechanical.” “That is the problem, right there. That sort of pressure and conditioning makes it easier to turn you into something you’re not, because it dulls your feelings. With that sort of teaching, it becomes easier for you to do things you’re told to do, even if they’re bad. And it’s possible you start doing things you don’t even realise are bad.” “Like a drone,” he concluded. Reluctantly, the mare nodded. “Yes. Like a drone.” “So I don’t think normal, even though I never had a spell cast on me. I don’t have to leave, do I?” “No, you do not have to leave. You’re not bad and you haven’t been conditioned too far. The fact that you have likes and dislikes is proof enough that you can still think for yourself. They probably just taught you like that because it was easier, and to make sure you would obey without having to wipe your mind. But I need to know what else you were taught, Bastion. What sort of questions did you have to answer right away like that? Aside from calculations?” Bastion sighed and furrowed his brow as he tried to bring it all to mind. He looked away and shrugged. “Just random stuff from training. What positions I’m supposed to take, where to hit, techniques and counters. I never really had to use any of it, but it’s all there, I guess.” “Techniques and counters? You mean you were taught how to fight,” Cheerilee deduced. Gulping nervously, the changeling nodded. “I suppose you would, in your position. But you know you’re not supposed to fight ponies, right?” “Of course I know,” he objected. “I like ponies, I don’t wanna fight any of them.” Cheerilee smiled at him. “So you won’t go hurting others without warning. That’s good. Anything else? Any rules they thought you should follow?” “Just some things about how to act. What makes a good changeling, why we’re -- why they thought they were better. Most of that didn’t seem right, though. My uncle, he…” “He knew better, and he taught you everything you know,” Cheerilee finished. An awkward silence fell between them for a moment. “Listen, I know what happened, and I know it must be painful. You don’t have to talk about that if you don’t want to. I just need to know: what were you taught to do without thinking? Did you ever have to do anything that felt wrong? Or anything that feels wrong now? It’s alright if you have, but I need to know if you might start doing it again without realising. If I know, then I know what to look out for and there won’t be any trouble. Was there ever anything that feels wrong now?” He breathed a little quicker at that. “No. I don’t think so. I never had to hurt anyone, not for real. I just had to memorise stuff and say it really fast, and I trained to fight, sort of, but I never really hurt my sparring partner. It’s just stuff, and it doesn’t really bother me. If that’s bad, then I guess I should fix it, but what am I supposed to do about it?” The mare patted him on the head to comfort him as she got back up. “Just try to hold on to yourself. You don’t have to answer that fast in class, you can keep quiet if I’m not talking directly to you. Try to be careful. You might feel yourself slipping away if you start going into that conditioned response again, but as long as you can still feel, it’ll be alright. Find something to do that makes you happy, and it’ll pass. You’ll outgrow it in time.” “Something that makes me happy? You mean like a pony talent?” She chuckled. “Yes, like a pony talent. Speaking of which, have you thought of something for the assignment yet?” “Yes, I have. I haven’t asked Diamond Tiara or Silver Spoon yet, but I thought I could sell a drink. It’s a special recipe.” “Oh? A changeling specialty, by any chance?” “Sort of. I’ve had some ponies try it, and they liked it. I’m going to ask Berry Punch to help with it, and Piña Colada said she wouldn’t mind selling it.” “Well, then, I might just drop by sometime to try it.” The boy cheered up at that, his wings rising up. “That’d be great, if I can get the blend right. I’m still getting the hang of it, but… I’m sure you’ll like it if you try.” “I’m sure I will, Bastion. Now, off you go. Enjoy what’s left of your break.” With a wide smile and a nod, he flew out. “Alright, Cutie Mark Crusaders, we need to find something to make money and impress miss Cheerilee, and if we do it right, we might even get our cutie marks!” Apple Bloom announced, her voice making the clubhouse shudder. “So, anyone come up with any ideas?” “We could do our own beauty parlour,” Sweetie Belle offered. “Except there’s already a beauty parlour in Ponyville, and it didn’t work out that well last time we tried it,” Scootaloo replied. “We could try deliveries. I can get around Ponyville pretty quick.” “But we need somethin’ to deliver for that to work. I guess the best idea would be to sell something. But what could we sell?” Apple Bloom asked, sending the three fillies into a bout of brainstorming. “Well, it can’t be anything that anypony’s selling already, that’d never work,” the pegasus remarked. “Maybe something we can turn it into something else. Like food, maybe?” “And it needs to be made from something we can get a lot of, so it’s not that bad if we mess it up,” Sweetie Belle added. “Hmm…” Apple Bloom thought. Just as the little Earth pony realised she came from a family of apple farmers, and in fact lived on an apple orchard, an idea popped into her head. “We could sell something with apples!” Scootaloo looked at her friend, then outside at all the apple trees. “Sure, we could do something obvious. I guess if you haven’t gotten an apple cutie mark yet, we might get one.” The yellow filly glared just a little at that remark. “Howdie, Cutie Mark Crusaders,” Applejack greeted as she came in with a tray of small bottles. “Got a plan for the assignment?” “We were thinking about selling something with apples,” Apple Bloom replied. “That would be the easiest thing to do, Apple Bloom. But what would you sell?” “We could make apple juice,” Apple Bloom suggested after taking a sip. “That press still works okay, right?” “Sure, you girls could do that. But you can’t call it ‘cider’. You know that, right?” “I know, I know. It’s not cider if it’s not crushed by a millstone, and we don’t break that one out before cider season.” “So it’s okay if we use the apples from the orchard?” Sweetie Belle asked. “Sure. You can use whatever you want from the west orchard.” Apple Bloom nearly choked on her juice when she heard that. “T-the west orchard? Really?” “You want to sell your own apples, you can get them down from the trees yourself.” Applejack winked. “You’ll be fine. Those trees are heavy with juicier apples, so it won’t be that hard to get them down if you just shake the branches with a rope. And they are better for what you want.” “I guess, but… the west orchard?” Apple Bloom asked again. “What’s wrong with the west orchard?” Scootaloo asked with an air of dread. “Oh, it’s nothin’ to worry about.” “Nothin’ to worry about? We haven’t harvested that part since the fruit bats moved in!” Apple Bloom objected. “Fruit bats?” Sweetie Belle inquired. “They’re pretty friendly, actually. You just need to be careful, is all. Make sure you use a basket with a lid when you harvest, and you’ll be fine.” Apple Bloom looked at her friends, and all three shrugged at the same time. “If you say so,” Apple Bloom said, sounding a little uncertain. The fillies lay exhausted next to the press. “Okay. That’s the last of ‘em. One hundred and fifty bottles of apple juice.” Apple Bloom held up her front hooves. Right on cue, she got a pair of hoofbumps. “And a whole swarm of angry fruit bats,” Scootaloo remarked. “It wasn’t that bad: they didn’t chase us all the way,” Sweetie Belle replied. “You mean they gave up when they got some of the apples back,” Scootaloo retorted. “That too.” “Anyway, we’re done. Everything’s bottled, we can set up a little stall tomorrow,” Apple Bloom concluded. “Yeah. So what do you think Bastion’s going to do?” Sweetie Belle asked. Apple Bloom slapped herself. “What does it matter what Bastion is going to do? He’s with Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon, they’ll probably just have him sell something Filthy Rich can’t get rid of,” the Earth filly replied, annoyed. “What is your problem with Bastion?” Scootaloo's frustration started to return. “I do not have a problem with Bastion. If he comes up with something good, we’ll see it, won’t we?” Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle exchanged a glance, then shrugged. “If you say so,” the pegasus said with a sigh. The trio heard the sound of hooves approaching the shed. “Hey, girls. All done?” Applejack asked as she entered. “Eeyup. One hundred and fifty bottles of Sweet Apple Acres Apple Juice ready to sell.” Apple Bloom smirked proudly. “You mean after you label them, right?” “Label them?” The filly’s ears drooped at the mention. “You can’t sell food or drink if ponies don’t know what’s in it. The printing press is right over there,” The mare pointed a hoof to a machine in the back. It sported a fine set of prints, some sheets of paper, but no finished labels as yet. It looked pretty much like the apple press, version 2.0. All at once, the fillies groaned and collapsed. Applejack smiled with sympathy. “Why don’t you save that for tomorrow, huh? You’ve been at it for hours, you should stop for the day.” Reluctantly, the three got up. “I guess you’re right,” Apple Bloom conceded. “We did get a lot done. Especially for workin’ in the west orchard.” “That you did, but you should get home. Sweetie Belle, I think Rarity’s come to pick you up.” “Rarity’s here?” the unicorn filly asked. “Are you sure?” From outside, the sound of a metallic ‘clang’, followed by a cry of “Insufferable bucket!” could be heard. Apple jack winked at the girl. “Pretty sure.” “Sweetie Belle, promise me you’ll wash up when you get home?” Rarity asked the now sweaty filly on her back. “For the third time, I promise. I’ll wash, I’ll scrub and I’ll spray myself with that perfume mom thinks I can’t reach.” “You probably shouldn’t do that last one, but at least get the smell of farm work off.” Rarity stopped in her tracks. “Oh look, there’s Bastion. Want to say hello?” Sweetie Belle nodded and hopped off, following her sister to the changeling’s little stand. He was sitting next to Silver Spoon and apparently the pair were handing out flyers and taking notes of something. “Hi, Sweetie Belle,” he greeted. “Rarity.” “Hi there,” Silver Spoon greeted as well. The mare inspected the little stall. Empty glasses were strewn around on the little shelf, and behind the two there were a few bottles with red drops left in them. “Are you selling drinks too, Bastion?” Sweetie Belle asked. “Actually, we were handing out free samples.” “Yeah, and if ponies like it they can sign up with me and we know how much to make of the stuff,” Silver Spoon explained. “And what exactly is this drink, darling?” Rarity asked Silver Spoon. “It’s a changeling specialty Bastion made. It’s sort of a cherry lemonade, only a little different. Right, Bastion?” The changeling scratched the back of his head, a little embarrassed. “Right. It’s something from my hive, actually. It turned out to be pretty popular, too.” Rarity took in the completely emptied out stock. For such a small stand, they must have garnered quite a lot of attention. “I can see that. I presume you’ve gotten a lot of orders by now?” “We sure did. Here, you can have the last coupon,” Silver Spoon started, before giving the mare a little piece of paper. “It’s two bits off any bottle you buy from Sugarcube Corner or any order you make.” With a smile, Rarity accepted the coupon. “Thank you very much, Silver Spoon. I’ll be sure to try some of it when you get it to the shops. What did you say it was called, Bastion?” “It’s a special kind of cherry lemonade. We call it 'red nectar'.” Sweetie Belle sniffed the empty glasses just as Silver Spoon was taking them away and closing up shop for the day. There was definitely cherry in that stuff, but something else, too. Something she couldn’t immediately place. Bastion looked at her awkwardly, and his companion didn’t seem pleased about it. “Something wrong, Sweetie Belle?” she asked. “No, it’s nothing. Good luck with the assignment.” “You too. And tell Apple Bloom I’m sorry?” Bastion added. Sweetie Belle and Rarity departed with a wave. “I will. But don’t worry, she won’t stay mad at you. She’s not like that.” He gave her a weak smile, then got to work folding up the little stall as the sisters resumed their way home. “Why would Apple Bloom be angry with him?” “I’m not sure. I think she doesn’t like him for some reason.” “Well, at least you know to be nice to him, right?” Rarity raised her eyebrow insistently. “I know. He lost his parents and his home, you told me that five times already.” “That’s right, so don’t be mean.” As they turned a corner, the gears in Sweetie Belle’s head started turning. “Hey, Rarity, you said Bastion was a noble, right?” “He has a noble’s name, certainly. And he did say he was of noble birth. Bon Bon didn’t deny it, either.” Sweetie Belle rubbed her head as she pondered. “So that means his parents were nobles too, right?” “I’d assume as much, yes." “But nobles, that’s like a king or queen, right? Changelings don't have things like dukes or knights, do they?” “I don’t think I like where you’re going with this, Sweetie Belle.” Rarity tensed up. “But it’s true, isn’t it? If he’s a noble, and an orphan, that means –“ “That he didn’t come from the hive that attacked us, but from one that got destroyed before. It means that he’s lost his home twice. That’s not a very nice thought, is it?” “Um, no.” “Right then. So you know you shouldn’t talk about it around him, and to step in if anyone treats him poorly. He doesn’t know how things work for ponies and he's lost everything, so please try not to open any of his wounds.” Sweetie Belle nodded. Her sister’s frustration wasn’t new to her, and by now she knew better than to push her limits. “I won’t. I promise.” “Good.” The two resumed their walk in silence. But I wonder if Apple Bloom feels the same way?