//------------------------------// // the supervisor // Story: Mail Order Changeling // by odeeyou //------------------------------// Changeling 696… or was it 969? He was always a little confused on that. Despite his dyslexia, some of the other changelings began to call him ‘Numbers’ (living amongst ponies, some of them would be expected to have names) ironically due to his inability to use them very well. In any case, he stood at the entrance of the post office. He had been slated to be the next changeling to do whatever job/position/slave/tool he was told in return for love or the next best food equivalent. Of which he really hoped he qualified for. As a working drone, receiving orders and following them were what he did best. To be fair, that’s what most changelings did best. Hierarchy amongst the changelings consisted of the Queen… followed by whatever drone was selected for overseeing any one project… and really however much experience they had at doing it. He wasn’t very good without orders given. He was a drone. The changeling in charge of the group had given him the order of taking orders by ponies in return for food. The problem was that he wasn’t an infiltrator. Taking orders from ponies left a little too much open to interpretation. He wasn’t up to date on pony culture. He didn’t know enough about any hypothetical jobs he might be expected to do. That and this whole ‘thinking for yourself’ thing was all very new to him. Still… no one had died yet he supposed. “There he is!” And then suddenly he was surrounded by three fillies. “Hello Mister Changeling!” “You look kinda cool! Not as cool as Rainbow Dash but still-“ “An’ we’re…” “THE CUTIE MARK CRUSADERS!” Changeling 969 looked down at the three posing fillies and wondered if he was being auditioned for some kind of performance group. “… Okay?” The red mane yellow filly with a bow stepped forward. “Ya see, mah sis said we can’t do no more crusadin’ without… what’d she call it?” “Supervision!” The white unicorn with a bi-colored mane answered. “But we don’t know any ponies with super vision. So we thought maybe a changeling?” The orange and purple Pegasus filly questioned. “Do you have super vision? Cause if you did, that’d be cool! Not as cool as Rainbow Dash but still-“ “Yes. I suppose so.” Changeling 696 answered carefully, after a bit of thought. This ‘thinking’ stuff was hard. “I have five eyes. So that would be kind of super in comparison to most ponies.” “Whoa…” The three fillies whoa’d in awe. “Fave? Ah only see two.” The farm filly squinted up at his face. “Yes well…” He bent down to his knees so they could see his face closer. “I have the two large compound eyes and three small ocelli just above my horn. They are a little hard to see since they are the same color as my carapace.” “Whoa…” The three fillies whoa’d again. “So what kind of supervision does that give you, Mister Changeling?” The little unicorn filly asked him. “It means I can see a radius of 180 degrees… or was it 810… in front, sides and above of me at all times.” Not that said vision did him much good. Before the invasion he’d mostly sat around as one of the many, many, MANY guards and workers to the hive. “That’s cool! Not as cool as Rainbow Dash but still-“ “Ya know what this means?” “CUTIE MARK CRUSADER ROLLER COASTER BUILDERS, YEAH!” “…what?” The next 15 minutes were a bit of a blur for changeling 969. He remembered getting dragged off to a tree club house… He remembered feeding a bit off the youthful enthusiasm of three fillies… He couldn’t remember anything after that! Only that he felt like he was returning from an all-time sugar high… And now he was… Strapped to a push cart with three fillies on a long circled wooden ramp? From what little he knew about ponies, he wondered if he should be worried…