It was cold in the Crystal Empire, well, at least until you got inside their weather, love shield, thingy. Critical-Eye frowned a little at the sudden temperature change, but at least she was finally here. And by herself as well. No nosy parents, no annoying little brothers or an unexplainable little sister!
And Sweet Hives was it shiny. The nymph had to wonder if she should have bought some sunglasses.
‘Well now, and I get another Changeling guest so soon? Are they offering you all package deals or something?’
In a home beset by a Pink and her antics on a regular basis, the nymph did the only wise thing she could by not responding to the voice in her head.
‘Ouch, that really hurts. I’m just trying to be friendly and you snub me?’ One could hear the pout behind that voice. ‘I let you in and everything. Why are all you Changeling’s such bullies?’
“Shut up, you don't exist, you're just left over trauma from putting up with with my little sister," the nymph hissed under her breath.
‘And yet you responded. That does not bode well for your sanity.’
"After having put up with Joyful-Heart I'm surprised I have any," the mare replied again as she made sure all of her supplies were in order. "Go be a delusion to somepony else, I have business to attend to and I don't need you distracting me."
‘So harsh, well, Level Ledger told me to expect as much out of you. So fine. Welcome to the Crystal Empire. I am the Crystal Heart and I’ll be here should you need anything. Tata, Little Critical~’
The mare blinked at that before realizing that her 'delusion' had in fact been reality. Good going Critical, you just pissed off a millennium old crystal artifact that is in fact in charge of this entire operation. For an encore, why don't you try offending all the princesses at once?
‘Well Candyflanks is out of town, so this is a ‘Princess Free’ zone today.’ Seems the Heart wasn’t quite as done as it first implied. ‘And honestly, she’s met Midnight and Ledger. It would take ‘a lot’ to offend her.’
Look I'm sorry about that whole 'you're a delusion' thing. Growing up with a pink you either learn to tune some things out or you go mad. I think I combined the two. My art is always a little more inspired when she is up to her antics. Do-over? By this point in time the train had pulled into the station and the mare had disembarked.
‘I can live with that,’ Heart paused as it pondered something. ‘Hmmm, ohhh, I sense something from you. Oohohohhoo! So that’s why you’re here~'
I'm here because my older brother told me this is where he picked up that interesting painting and nothing more. Critical-Eye was following the directions her brother had given her and found nothing more than a space with an empty stall. If a pony did attend this thing regularly, they weren't doing it now.
‘You know I know the location of anypony in this city at any given time, right?’ She could almost feel the Heart’s smirk. 'I can help you find your lovely artist~’
I have no idea what you are insinuating, but if you do know the location of Painted Palette, that would be most appreciated. He and I have some...business to discuss. Business and nothing more!
'Yeahhhh...’ Heart was not convinced. ‘Well, Painted Palette hmm?’ There was a moment's pause and then it spoke up again. ‘You’ll find him in his house. Edge of town, the hill overlooking the Palace.’
Thank you, Critical-Eye said before turning towards the mentioned hill and beginning her long and arduous journey. I do hope he's in the mood for visitors.
Canterlot Palace was finally getting back to normal, though Celestia was still waiting on the throne room doors to be replaced, as well as the window that Tirek melted. Dammit, that was her favourite one as well.
So when a yellow-coated elderly stallion showed up all but dragging a white-coated mare with a green mane into the room, Celestia's first thought was that she really wasn’t in the mood for visitors right now.
“I believe that I requested that there was to be no Court meetings today?” she said. “I am sorry my little ponies. But unless it is urgent-”
"Don't go getting our species wrong, miss," the stallion said as his eyes flashed in a familiar cat-like manner. " I believe you want to see this little whippersnapper."
“Hm? Oh! You’re a-” Celestia paused as she looked around. “Perhaps here isn’t the best place for this conversation. Would you like to go somewhere private Mr...?”
"Balls," the old stallion said without batting an eye. "And I wouldn't trust this one anywhere but in public."
“I see,” Celestia managed to keep her regal composure...barely. She was going to laugh about this later. She looked at the mare that refused to meet her gaze. “And who is this one? A friend?”
"My granddaughter, and the one that caused you quite a bit of trouble." Here the stallion poked the smaller mare with one hoof. "Now you say you're sorry, Missy." It was subtle, but she could almost hear another name under that 'Missy.'
“....No,” she said, glaring at the princess with bright green eyes.
“Do I have to get the fly swatter and the newspaper again?" Over the past few days, her grandfather had shown her over a hundred ways to inflict pain with such simple implements. The mare snarled as she leaned in close to him.
“You don’t have the balls!” she hissed.
"Are you doubting my name, whippersnapper? I am called Massive-Balls for a reason!" The response was biting and serious, which only made it all the more hilarious to the Sun Princess. Even now, she covered her mouth with a wing to hide her smile.
“I’m doubting that you dragged me all the way up here for something I am not sorry for!” she snapped back. “I will not apologise to this cake-guzzling blimp of a pony and that is that!”
Celestia’s ear gave a twitch.
"THAT'S IT!" The stallion roared at his granddaughter. "I have had it up to here with your horseshit, I will not put up with it anymore, nor will anypony else!" With that he turned to look at Celestia and adopted a more normal facial expression. “Begging your pardon ma'am, but I need the largest newspaper you have in town. She needs to learn why I am called Massive-Brass-Balls, apparently."
That tore it, between their bickering and that Celestia-forsaken name. The Alicorn of the Sun. The regal ruler of all of Equestria. The most powerful pony in the world...
Broke down, cackling like a schoolfilly as she fell on the floor, kicking her hind legs as she laughed. Her laugh, while hysterical, was also just as beautiful as she. If one was going to lose their composure, at least make it look and sound good.
The arguing seemed to wait for her to stop before it picked up again. And while her laughter did, in fact, take a while to run through her system, these changelings could be patient.
After a few minutes, the not-so-graceful alicorn finally stopped as she took another moment to catch her breath.
“Haahh, phew...I haven’t laughed like like in a very long time,” she said, wiping tears from her eyes. “I am so very sorry you had to see that display. But...you two are just too much.”
"I'm glad we can bring a little light to your eyes then, missy, " The disguised elderly drone said with a smile about his face. "Now, 'bout that paper I asked for..."
Painted Palette was a simple stallion. Give him a paintbrush, some paints and something paint on, and he was happy. Well, that and a nice glass of wine and some cheese. Mmm, he could go for some of that right now.
Well, as soon as he discovered who was knocking at his door. Nopony ever visited him. He frowned as he crossed the room and opened the offending object, only to see a young, green-coated mare on the other side.
Well, okay, not complaining thus far.
“Can I...help you?” he asked wryly. She could also be a debt collector. Did he even have any debts?
"I certainly hope so, otherwise my brother is a big fat liar." The mare brushed past him on the way inside to view his works. It probably wasn't a coincidental touch, especially when he noticed her watching him out of the corner of her eye. With a much wider smile than normal, the mare resumed talking. "I understand that you are the same artist that managed to catch my brother's eye? Considering how little he knows about art, that's both a good thing and a bad thing."
“Your…brother?” Paint frowned as he tried remember. He’d been a little lost in his art lately, (and the empty wine bottle probably contributed as well). “And please, by all mean come inside Miss.” The snark was strong with this one.
"Don't mind if I do," she fired back. Hmm, this work was impressive... For a drunkard.
“It seems that the finer points of sarcasm escape you,” he mumbled as he closed the door. “And shouldn’t you at least introduce yourself kid.”
"My name is- what were you thinking, using this palette here?!" The mare had found one of his earlier works and was evidently displeased by it.
He looked at the painting and frowned. “Oh, I don’t know. Guess I was a little pre-occupied being enslaved and all.”
"Yes, I suppose under those circumstances, you can be forgiven for this travesty against art being made, but why do you continue to let it exist?" Her horn had lit up with a green light that also surrounded the painting.
“Don’t touch that!” he snapped at her. “Now explain what in the hell you’re doing here!”
"I came here to learn from the stallion that could so impress my brother that he knew a good painting when he saw it, but I'm not certain I see him around." Apparently, snark ran in the family.
“Yeah, guess not,” he muttered as he placed the painting back on the wall. Every piece had its place. Somepony had to remember, what it was like before. “Has anypony ever told you that you’re terrible at first impressions Miss Pony?”
"All the time, but you try growing up in a house with three younger brothers, all who love to destroy things, an older brother who loves to snark at you constantly, and a younger sister that just can't be explained by any sort of science. I tried to get out as much as I could to socialize with normal ponies, but it was just never enough after dealing with them for one minute." Realizing that now there was rhyme and reason to the artwork, even the ones she would normally not spare a second glance, and that his entire house was a gallery, she began wandering from room to room, taking in the paintings.
“Sure, help yourself,” the stallion muttered. “And honestly, wouldn’t know what that feels like Missy. I ain’t got no family...not anymore.”
The Unicorn mare paused as she reached a particularly dark room, and she was concerned about more than the lighting. The paintings in there had taken a very bleak turn. She had heard of therapy through art, of course, but the stallion seemed to document everything via paintings. "You've had... Quite the hard life, haven't you? And that's discounting everything that tyrant did when he was on the throne."
The stallion’s frown remained on his visage as he walked into the room. “Somepony always has it worse. Plenty in this city alone that are worse off than me.” He placed a hoof against a piece that was covered with a heavy cloth. “I’ve got no room to complain...”
"Yes well, I'm noticing there are no new works as of late... Probably for a reason. Is somepony just not inspired anymore?" Her tone was only half-teasing, she actually took things like this very seriously.
“I painted because that’s what I liked to do,” he said. “Ol’ buttmark says that’s what I like. Then Sombra shows up, kills our Princess and takes over. Then the next thing I know...a thousand years have passed.” He sighed as he ushered the mare out of the room and closed the door before locking it. “I don’t know this world. But it’s not the one I was born in.”
"Perhaps you could do with a guide to this new land? Maybe understanding it will help re-ignite your creative spark?" Internally, Critical-Eye was ecstatic. This was one of the things a Green did. Not just create on their own, but help others want to create as well.
“And what’s the point?” he said with a dull tone as he moved to his kitchen. He grabbed a bottle and went to pour, only to discover it was empty. “You’re young kid. Go and find somepony else. Maybe one involved in those ‘moving picture’ things.” Three bottles later and he sighed. He’d have to go and see Ruby later.
That was when he found all the bottles starting to move towards the mare in the doorway. Whether or not they had fluid in them. She had an unusually stern expression on her face, one that just didn't fit with her apparent age. "We are going to have to limit your alcohol intake. I suppose that can be step one."
“And what makes you think you can come in here? Still unannounced I might add. And tell me what the hell I can and can’t do!”
“Because seeing a talent such as yours, seeing a passion such as yours wither and die on the vine like a grape left forgotten tears at my very soul! I will not see you die drunk, alone, and forgotten if I have anything to say about it!" Forget stern, now she was just plain scary.
“You got fire kid, but you should get before you burn yourself.” He continued to frown, now it was apparent that this was his default expression, as he looked around his home. She was right, he hadn’t painted a thing since the Empire returned. But so what? The world wasn’t going to end if he didn’t paint. Nopony cared whether he painted or not...
His...family...
“Nopony is here anymore.”
Then he felt himself encased in a warm, surprisingly hard, hug. "You're here," she whispered into his ear. "That's enough to start again... And I'll help you, if you'll let me."
His frown lessened slightly as he looked at the table in front of him. He took a deep breath and sighed. “Feh! Stupid kid...” His voice lacked a little less bite though. “Fine, let’s go and see what this new world is like. Better be worth it.”
"We'll find out together then," she said when she eventually broke the hug. Holding out a hoof to him, she smiled as she finally introduced herself. "Critical Eye, painter and art critic since I was 12."
“Painted Palette, and you're still a green-nosed kid...coat colour aside,” he smiled wryly. “Well, let’s go then. We’re burning daylight and I need more wine.”
"If you purchase more wine without my approval, I will smack you upside the head with the bottle," she said with a serious expression on her face. She had her brother to thank for her creativity in snappy comebacks.
“Goddam kids didn’t have such a big mouth back in my day,” he muttered as he retrieved his saddlebag. Even after all this time, he never changed what it held. One bit pouch, four kinds of paintbrushes and a half-dozen jars of paint. The bag itself was made from leather. Yes, actual leather. Cows weren’t so...respected as they were today.
"In your day, fire was the next big thing," the mare said. Apparently she had heard his grumbling.
“You would’ve gone down a treat then,” he added as he opened the door and stepped out into the sunlight. “Let’s go kid.”
"Your compliment about my looks is appreciated, but just because you pay me a backhooved compliment doesn't mean I will pose for you." Even as she said that though, she walked up next to him and let her tail brush along his side. "Still, points for checking me out without me noticing~"
“Pose, feh! Ain’t enough paint on Equus to do that big head of yours.” He had flinched slightly at the touch. No mare had touched him like that in a long, long time. And she apparently noticed, as she cranked the 'sultry' up a notch.
"Are we talking about my big head, or yours?" She purred before taking the lead.
A slight blush could be seen under his coat. “Damn kid,” he muttered under his breath as he trotted past her and further ahead. Now he really needed a drink.
"Don't think I didn't see that~" she sang after him. "A normal reaction to a pretty mare is something to be celebrated for one in your position. Means not everything about you has been deadened, lost to whatever you're going through. Gives me a starting point~"
The stallion just snorted. Scratch that drink, he needed a whole damned winery now.
Despite all her protesting, he’d still bought quite a few bottles from Ruby and his wife. It did Palette some good to see that his old friend was doing well.
"I do hope you have a cabinet that locks, because that's where I'm going to be putting that the moment we get back to your home." To say she was displeased was putting it mildly.
“My booze, I’ll do what I want with it,” he said. They passed a few Crystal ponies on the road, most stopping to say hello to Palette and commenting on his cute company. The stallion getting more and more flustered as time went on.
“Don’t know what they’re all harping on about,” he muttered as they headed towards the city. Critical giggled and posed for a second, showing off as much of her fine assets as she could get away with in a public setting.
"Oh, don't tell me you see this flank and can ignore all the...ideas it gives you~" she teased. She apparently really liked doing that. "It would mean I was doing something wrong."
The stallion just snorted as he walked past her. “Just a kid,” he replied. “You don’t have a damned clue.”
"You say that~, but I'm fairly certain I didn't invite your little friend to join us on this walkabout."
Paint just snorted again as he headed for town, muttering something about kids and a lack of decency. Critical put one hoof on his withers and gently led him to the side of the road before speaking up again.
"I know part of the way I act is going to grate on you, but part of it is genuine care for your well-being. When I feel like you can be trusted around destructive things again, I'll stop being such an uptight little kid you think should butt out of your life. Promise."
"Or save us time and butt out now," he replied with a wry smile. "Look, kids your age shouldn't be so flirty. Might give an old stallion the wrong impression. Now, if you still insist on being my talkative shadow, then let's go. I want to get to the markets before all the good stuff is gone." And with that, he turned and walked off once again.
"Stallions," Critical loudly complained. "Whether I'm related to them or not they seem to be insistent on being stubborn. Maybe one day I'll actually understand them."
Celestia blinked at the display. Honestly? She had no idea how to describe what she just saw. She was fairly certain it was illegal, and should be if it wasn’t.
“Um...is your granddaughter going to be alright?” she asked hesitantly as she looked at the twitching mare.
"She'll recover...eventually." A large rolled up newspaper was in his grasp, and more than one mark was on her coat to signify where it had impacted her.
“Well, I have guessed that you are one of my ‘new’ friends,” Celestia commented as she took a seat on her throne once more. “And who might this traumatised young mare be?”
"Think carefully, ma'am. When was the last time before you met any of your new friends that you met one of us?" The stallion had put the paper to one side and had somehow procured a fly swatter from somewhere as he stared at the smaller mare.
“You...can’t possibly mean that this mare is-”
“That’s right, O’Glorious Sunbutt!” the mare gasped as she got to her hooves. Her disguise fell away as the great Queen Chrysalis replaced her. “And like hell am I going to apo-”
That was all she said before a lance of golden light struck her, lifting her off of the ground and carrying her across the room until she struck the wall, leaving a small impact crater when she did. Residual magic still hummed around Celestia’s horn as she gave a curt nod.
“There. Now we’re even.”
"Excellent form, ma'am." The elderly stallion walked over to where his granddaughter lay and poked her with a hoof to make sure she was still alive. She had too many things to do in the land of the living to be allowed to die now, after all.
“Fucking....ow,” she groaned as her body smoked lightly. “Where...did she get that power...?”
“Oh, I’ve always had that power,” Celestia said as she stepped forward. Power crackled from her body as small bits of broken tile begun to float off of the ground. “But last time, I both underestimated your strength and didn’t want to involve anypony in the crossfire. But now...?” Celestia lifted Chrysalis off of the ground with her magic as her horn shone brighter.
"Ma'am, she may be my least favorite granddaughter at this moment, but she is my granddaughter. I can understand wanting to punish her - believe me I do! - but if you get too, what’s the word I'm looking for... Too much like a changeling in your punishments, I'll just do her punishment myself, save you the trouble." For some reason, the stallion seemed to be almost glowing to match her. "Plenty glad we took that detour through so many hospitals seeing so many of your soldiers, now..."
Celestia just narrowed her eyes as her horn shone a little brighter, the light encasing Chrysalis as she was slowly lowered to the ground. Once the blinding magic faded, all of the changeling nymph’s injuries had been healed.
“You have one chance Chryssie,” Celestia smiled that insufferable, knowing smile. “Don’t screw it up and for the love of me, please do not monologue. My time is short.”
"Actually," the stallion seem to turn back to normal as he interjected himself between the two. "Let me just shorten this by a lot. Chryssie, what was your actual plan? Ten words or less."
“Take that newspaper and go fu-” the flyswatter hit the side of her muzzle at lightning speeds. The queen recoiled from the blow, putting a hoof to her cheek and glaring at him. “And while you’re at it. You can use that swatter to su-” This time it went for her horn.
“GODDAMNSONOFA-” Chrysalis grabbed her aching horn as Celestia giggled lightly. Perhaps the queen would make for an interesting court jester?
Chrysalis moaned slightly, her head really friggen hurt now. “I swear you old fossil. You hit me again and I’ll-” He raised both the paper and the swatter this time and she flinched, shying away a little. “Alright, alright! Geez. Goddamn hardass.”
"Answer. The question. Your plan?" The implements of pain did not stop hovering around her.
“What plan?” she replied. “I have no plan. You dragged me here. You have the plan.” For being a smartass, her flank was slapped with the newspaper.
"Then. What was your plan when you first came here?" If you knew where to look, you might see a small smile on the face of the stallion, similar to Celestia's.
“Steal their love. Feed my army. Take over all Hives!” Chrysalis said with a smug smile. “There, ten words. Now bug off!”
“Your highness, what would happen if you or your sister just failed to care come evening or morning?" The stallion asked without even looking at her.
“Eternal night or day,” Celestia replied. While there was a failsafe in plan should both sisters become incapacitated... or worse. Well, they didn’t need to know that.
"The death of Equus?" he asked nonchalantly.
“Essentially,” Celestia nodded.
"Your plan for dealing with that, missy?"
Chrysalis snorted. “If that had happened, I’d just take enough power so I could do it myself. Given how lazy Cakebutt is, it can’t be all that hard.”
"Considering how long she's had to practice that talent of hers, I'm more inclined to trust her. If you tried it, something tells me the moon would fall on your head, and the Sun would fall in the seas and boil them away."
“Oh gee, it’s so nice to see that you have so much faith in me,” Chrysalis replied, her tone oozing with sarcasm.
“And if I pointed out that Twilight raised them both recently, despite being an Alicorn for only a month or so?” Celestia said innocently.
"You call that a sunrise? My own wedding was full of less sudden starts and stops." The aged stallion seem to enjoy bickering with both females.
“Ten bits says that she never even told Purple Smart how to do it,” Chrysalis snarked, then meeped as Celestia tossed her a coin. “What...I was right?”
“Yes, I have never taught her how to raise the sun and moon, she figured it out just by watching me.” It was easy to tell that Celestia was incredibly proud of her student. “But all that aside. Why did you see the need to take over all of the Hives?”
“Because I’m sick of, ‘Oh, the Silver’s have all the knowledge’ ‘Why do the Blue’s and Red’s have all the military strength?’ ‘Why can’t we do something about the Black’s?’” Chrysalis stamped a hoof as she looked at her grandfather. “And all these old coots do is sit around and bicker at one another. Have you seen them at any sort of gathering? They cannot remain sociable for even ten minutes!”
"Little Miss," the old stallion cooed before drawing her in for a hug. One that she then instantly regretted as he started whispering in her ear. "Us bickering is us being sociable. After all, when was the last time you saw an old Yellow besides me?"
“It’s because you’re too stubborn to die,” she retorted. “Likely, you annoyed Death so much he just passes you by now. That, or he finds your name just as ridiculous as everypony else.”
"One of the rules I abide by, that I think you should know right about now, is never attack something older than you are. There's a reason it's old, especially back in the homelands." The hug grew tight for one moment, and the stallion's eyes glowed yellow as if to remind her that hey, he had fed very well recently.
“Uuurrrghhhhh! FINE! Attacking Celestia and her pretty pony palace was a bad idea. Do you think my Changelings still loyal haven’t told me that a million times already?” Chrysalis pouted, it was actually kinda cute. “I’m sorry I tried to enslave your city...” That could not have been said with any less emotion if she tried.
"Honestly now, or else I'll start using her tea set." She wasn't sure which was more frightening: The seriousness of the statement, or the ridiculous nature of the weapon.
“I’d rather you didn’t,” Celestia sighed. “I’m quite fond of that tea set. Twilight gave it to me.”
“You never shut up about her,” Chrysalis smirked as she looked at the Alicorn. “I’d say you wish that whole student/teacher thing would go a little further huh~?” Then the stallion pulled a teacup from... somewhere that he had snagged from a passing tea set on their way in.
"I warned you!" he said he began advancing menacingly. Well, as menacingly as one could when holding a bright pink teacup.
“Fine, alright, for buck’s sake!” Chrysalis turned and looked at Celestia again. “Sorry I ruined your day.” She had put slightly more effort into it this time. As Brass continued to stalk towards her, Celestia raised a hoof to stop him.
“It is fine Mr. Brass. That will do.”
"She can do better," he grumbled before putting the tea cup back wherever he got it. "I remember a little grub that would apologize for so much as looking at my old trophies... would burst into tears, too."
“L-Like hell I did!” Chrysalis blushed as she glared at the older stallion. “You must be getting senile, you old coot!”
“And then she would ask to hear about the time I'd taken some scales from the elder red worm that had threatened the hive in my heyday," he continued on as if she hadn't said anything. "Mostly so that she would know where the red suit of Dragonscale mail had come from... Before she asked to try 'the most awesome thing on' herself."
“One more word! Just one more fucking word and I will end you!!” Chrysalis screeched, but her pleas went unheard as Celestia chortled with joy.
“Oh how utterly precious. I have always wished I could have a foal of my own. Do you have anymore delightful tales?”
“Don’t you dare!” Chrysalis said in an icy tone. Her grandfather was unaffected though, and he reached behind himself to pull out a large bound book.
"I have something better~" he nearly sang as he sat down and flipped open the cover. "I borrowed the family photo album before coming out to find her!"
"I WILL MURDER YOU!”
“Oohh~” Celestia sat down next to him, cooing at the adorable pictures of filly Chrysalis. “Aw, she’s so precious~”
“Fuck you!”
"And this was the time she found she could walk on walls... She was bouncing off of them for a week afterwards."
“Death will not be good enough for you!!”
“Ahaha, look at her. She’s blowing bubbles out of the holes in her little hoofsies~”
“I hope Discord turns you pink!!”
"And here she is trying on my old helmet. Needless to say it was just a little too big for her..."
"You! @*&%$!*^!!!!"
“Is-Is she trying to? Oh sweet me that is the most precious thing I have ever seen~”
“Fuck this. I’m finding Luna and we’re getting drunk!”
"If you do find her, send her down this way, I want to make sure they can both hear the time you tried to seduce a pony!"
“I hope a Tatzlwurm lays eggs in your intestinal tract!” Chrysalis shouted from the hallway. She marched away, undisguised as she called for Luna.
Needless to say, the Guard had absolutely no idea how to respond to this. They did not get paid enough for this shit.
"One tried. None others followed," the stallion said ominously. "So about the fate you have planned for my granddaughter..." His tone had turned icy again, even though he was talking to Celestia!
“Oh, she’s about to wake up Luna in the middle of the day without coffee, her fate is pretty much sealed,” Celestia chuckled. She giggled a little longer, even as the castle rumbled slightly. “However, what she did was quite serious and she should by all rights be imprisoned for her crimes.”
"That’s something like what the council was thinking," the yellow stallion said as he flipped to the end of the book and withdrew a large scroll. "I read it myself, they're basically turning her over to you as one of our ‘concessions for peace.‘ I do hope you take good care of my granddaughter, despite everything she's done to you, and almost done to you."
“I can agree to that,” Celestia nodded as the gears in her head turned, pieces placed, moves planned. She hoped that Twilight would enjoy a houseguest. “I believe I can make a pony out of her... but enough about that for now. I have a proposition for you dear Brass.”
"Not only am I not of the violet hive, I am way too old to be considering things like that." The response took a moment to process properly, even for Celestia. The mare eventually sighed and nodded her head.
“A pity. Oh well.”
"... Wait, I was right? Well damn, I don't think I can pass this up! Just give me a kiss ma'am, one filled with love and courage, and we'll see about scratching that itch of yours." The mood on the stallion had pulled an entire 180 at the idea of it getting to spend that sort of time with a princess.
“I am a mare of many talents,” she said as she gave the stallion a kiss on his cheek as her horn glowed. He wondered what she was doing as she pulled away. And once she was trotting out of the room, the old changeling suddenly felt thirty years younger.
“Perhaps we should discuss this in my chambers?” she giggled as she trotted from the room. “Do try and keep up~”
"Yes ma'am!" he replied as he all but ran after her. Oh, the kids would never believe this! Neither would his old war buddies!
Painted Palette spoke with an old friend, Sapphire Rose. She was a local farmer that specialised in flowers, but she also made really good cheese. Cheese that he was now purchasing as she commented on his new companion.
“So, any particular reason you’re running around with a mare half your age?” she giggled as she put the goods into his bag. “Didn’t think you had it in you Paint.”
“Oh cram it, she’s just an overly nosy brat who won’t leave me alone,” he grumbled. Rose smiled at Critical and winked.
“He may act like a bunch of sour grapes, but don’t lose hope in him dear.”
"Oh, I know, he's just a bit surly because I'm taking care of him when he can't," the younger mare replied. "Still waiting on an answer to the question as to whether or not you have a cabinet that locks, mister."
“No I don’t, and you ain’t touching my wine,” he said as he closed his bag and put some gems onto the counter.
“Are you still hitting the wine?” Rose inquired, giving the stallion a stare. “How long has it been Paint?”
“Not long enough if you lot are still meddling,” he snapped back. Critical took a deep breath to calm herself before she replied. No need to speak in too much anger.
"Mr Palette, I will not be unreasonable, I will not be too demanding. I will not make you quit cold turkey. We will work out a schedule that will eventually end with you being able to stop drinking without any ill effects. But at some point you're going to need to work with me! This is for not only for your benefit, but for the benefit of those around you!" She put a hoof on his withers before continuing to explain. "Like the ponies you buy the wine from? I can see the sadness in their eyes when they sell it to you. And everypony else is concerned that you drink so much..."
Painted Palette remained quiet for a good long while, before he turned and walked back towards his home. Rose blinked and looked at the gutsy mare.
“Well, I think he likes you.”
"I hope he still likes me as well, I don't have anywhere else to sleep tonight." With that, she was off after her errant artist.
On the way home, he heard the mare calling out to him and for some reason, he turned to look. When he did, she might have noticed, she might not have. But his eyes widened ever so slightly. He saw something, something he hadn’t seen in a very long time...
And just like that, the moment was gone and he resumed his walk home.
Once there, he placed the cheese in the icebox and the wine in a high cupboard in his living room. He spared Critical a glance as she walked in as he pointed towards the couch, a pillow and some blankets were already laying on it.
“You can sleep there if you want. And before you even start, no cracks about sharing my bed. Not interested and not in the mood.”
"I can tell," Critical said as she eyed the couch. An uncomfortable moment passed before she spoke up again. "... Something I said struck a nerve today, didn't it?... It might help to know the name of said nerve so that I avoid striking it again by accident."
“You come into my home, you insult my work and then go to presume you know me?” he said irritably as he placed a pan on the stovetop and searched for his flint to light the fire. “You don’t know a damn thing about me kid.”
The soft whoosh of flames catching caught his attention, and when he next looked up, not only was the fire lit, but the mare's horn was lit up as well. "A simple spark, can grow to be so much more." She sat down in one of the dining room chairs as she watched him work. "You're right," she said when she was comfortable. "I don't know anything about you. All I have that I'm running off of is a list of things ponies should really avoid doing. You just happened to hit most of the list."
“Well, good to see I’m doing something right,” he replied as he put away the flint he just found. “Do me a favour and don’t do that again. Magic makes me... uneasy.”
"... Well there goes any hope for me showing you my artwork," Critical said with a dramatic sigh. "Very well, if my host insists."
“Can’t do art without magic?” he inquired without looking at her. “Then how much of your skill is yours? And not your magic’s?”
"My medium is light and color in the air itself," she said with only a touch of a haughty tone. "Illusions, sir, illusions are what I excel in. Rather hard to do that without magic."
“Sounds like you’re a common showmare, rather than an artist,” he said, an underlying tone of mischief in his voice. She’d spent all day flustering him, Let’s see how she liked it.
"Give me a week in this Empire and I would be able to produce a miniature of it down to the last detail," she said without a trace of boasting in her voice. "Two weeks and I would be able to include all the ponies."
“Congratulations, you’re now a map, still not an artist,” he replied as he flipped the pan along with the batter inside it. She seemed to puff up a little at the insult before visibly calming herself down.
"Breathe, Critical, remember to breathe." After a moment to practice her breathing exercise, the mare spoke up again.
"Just because my medium differs does not make me any less of an artist, sir. There are as many types of artists as there are types of pony. If you do not find me to be a worthy artist, then I will leave you to your self-destruction and seek another patron within the city." No, she actually wouldn't, but no need to tell him that.
“If getting rid of you was that easy, you would have left already,” he said with a smug smile. So she had a coat and he could get under it if he needed to. “You ever tried to paint before kid?”
"I have indeed, some of my earlier works were in paint. Of course, then I discovered illusions and my knack for them, and I mostly spent my time inspiring others to create wonderful paintings once they had seen my latest. After all, no illusion can be seen the same from two different angles. At least, not if I'm casting them.”
He stopped and looked at her. He pointed with a hoof and she followed it, noticing an easel with a blank canvas and some paints. “Tell you what kid. Paint something. And if I like it enough, I’ll not touch the wine for the rest of the night.”
"I'm not falling for your obvious test," she said as she turned back to him with a smile on her face. "A good painting takes longer than just an hour to whip up. It takes time, skill, and dedication to whatever inspires you. As my teacher was so fond of drilling into my head, 'you can't rush art.'"
“Have you seen what you ponies call ‘art’ these days?” he said, a slight amount of bitterness in his voice. “A single dot on a canvas. What in the flipping feather is that!?” he tossed the pancake a little too high and he now had some new art on his ceiling. “Well great. Now I have to start again. But don’t worry. Just paint something. Doesn’t have to be finished, doesn’t have to be a masterpiece. The brush has a way of showing who you really are. I’ll even let you use your fancy magic.”
She sat down in front of the easel and bit her lip, before pulling out a stick of graphite and beginning to sketch on the easel. What little she recalled from her days of painting said it was best to have at least a framework before you begin any serious work. When she was satisfied with the sketch, she looked around for some of his paints to work with, seeing as how she had failed to pack any herself. She found a few small pots to the side and levitated them over.
Painted Palette cooked a new batch of fried dough. (Pancakes) And watched the mare out of the corner of his eye. She seemed to possess at least a paltry amount of skill. It was only after a minute had passed that he began to realize something.
Just like he was watching her, she was watching him. Every so often she would glance up from her sketch to watch him do something or other, before turning back to her easel and adding a little more paint to what she was doing.
“If you’re painting me, then that is going to be one ugly-ass painting,” he joked as he burned the pancakes. “Oh for the love of-”
"If you keep messing up the pancakes, I'll be able to sit here from now until I'm done and you won't have moved an inch," she joked back.
“...What the buck is a ‘pancake’?” he asked as he realised he was out of batter and sighed as he fished around in his fridge for some vegetables. Diced salad it was then. He could almost swear he felt her eyeballs glued to his flank as he rummaged in his refrigerator.
"It's what we call dough fried in a pan these days," she eventually said as she turned back to her painting. Perhaps a little more detail wouldn't hurt...
“Pan...cakes...” he let the word roll off his tongue and shook his head. “Kids these days. Too much of a rush to even talk full sentences.”
"Somewhere along the way, talking in full sentences also meant saying more than just one sentence worth of information. Especially for-" here she cut herself before she gave away any more information than she almost had.
Seems that the stallion had only half-heard her though, just grunting as he hacked at the vegetables with a knife. Idle small talk was exchanged as he finished the meager meal, and soon dished it up in a large bowl on the table, before trotting over to take a look.
In the short amount of time he had given her to work she had managed to create an interesting picture indeed. It was as he suspected a picture of him, but how she presented him was intriguing. She portrayed him painting... But they were also looking at him from the painting's perspective. The background was that of his living room where she had been sitting not five minutes prior.
"What do you think?" she asked hesitantly. "This is my first painting in quite a while and I wanted to make sure I got it right."
He looked at the piece, then turned and looked at his living room. Her attention to detail was something else. Every little knick-knack was in it’s place, she even got the shape of his irises right.
“Hmm, your linework is rough and you tend to lay the colour on a little thick. And do I really want to know why the most detailed part of this piece is my flank?”
"Well when you show it off in front of me like that how is a mare supposed to resist?" she asked coyly again. "I wanted to paint you painting something, but there's no way I would know what you would be painting next. So I decided to not show it and instead show the act. That's the important part, anyway.”
Well damn. He’d been looking forward to that drink too.
“Well, promise is a promise I suppose,” he simply replied and sat at the table. “Food time kiddo.”
That was when her horn lit up again and one of the bottles floated down in front of him. “I did say we would work on a schedule, did I not? To take away your drink the night I get here would be highly rude. As long as you promise not to overindulge, I think you can be allowed to have a drink tonight."
“I suppose I can’t argue with that,” he said as he poured two glasses. “Only if you share though.”
"I really shouldn't..." she tried to demure.
“What, too good to drink with me now?” he said as he pushed the glass aside. “Well, more for me I suppose.”
"Oh no you don't," she said as she snagged the glass back. "I am not letting you have twice as much wine if I can do something about it." And with that, she began to drink. Within seconds, the glass was empty. Pallet didn't know where she had put it all - either the wine or her attitude that she had pulled out of nowhere.
“You’re supposed to sip it, or you can’t taste the flavour,” he said as he ate his salad. “Kids, always in a damned rush.”
"If you're going to tell me you're going to drink something, what do you think my reaction is going to be? I know how to drink wine, I just don't think I'm going to be able to savor it if I'm trying to keep it out of your mouth." Critical was now hurriedly eating her salad, hoping to try and counteract the effects of drinking on an empty stomach.
Palette just shook his head as he looked at the bottle. While he had bought a few bottles, he also bought some grape juice for her. He wondered how long it was going to take her to realise she didn’t have a drop of alcohol in her system.
“Keep eating like that and you’re gonna-”
She reached the halfway point of her salad, at which point she slowly chewed and swallowed the current bite in her mouth. "I'm not drunk, am I?" she questioned dryly. The stallion just gave her a shit-eating grin as he turned the bottle so she could read the label.
“Be damned if that wasn’t funny though,” he chuckled.
"... Okay, fair point, you had me worried, and it was pretty funny... At least I imagine it would be from an outsider's point of view." She eventually admitted defeat by bowing her head slightly to the older stallion.
“Hah,” he chuckled once more as he ate, his eyes occasionally flicking to the mare, then to the painting. While it was rough, she also put a surprising amount of expression into it. Just like he...
Aaaaand now he was frowning again. And being hugged by the remarkably hard mare again.
“Anypony ever told you that you ain’t a soft mare to hug?” he muttered.
"Anypony ever told you that it's the thought that counts?" she countered. " I'm going to have to pass a rule against frowning without explanation, aren't I?"
“It’s nothing, your art just reminded me of something is all,” he replied as he moved away from the hug to put the empty plate in the sink. Only to find that she had glomped onto him again once that was done.
"Unless you want me to stop painting while I'm here, then I suggest you tell me the full story sooner or later."
The stallion grumbled as he gently pushed the mare off. Her coat felt odd. And he swore it was a slightly darker than before. He headed for his bedroom and paused to look back at her.
“It reminds me of mine,” he simply said as he opened the door and walked in. “Have a good night kid.”
"You too, mister," she said politely before returning to the couch. As she settled down and made herself comfortable, one thing came to mind.
She had her work cut out for her with this one...
Once he closed and locked his door, Painted Palette let out a sigh as he looked at the corner of his room. A blank canvas sat there, just as it had for all those years. He looked back out towards his living room as the image he saw earlier came to mind.
And as he lit a single candle to light the room. He sat down, picked up a brush and started to paint...
Chrysalis sat in Luna’s room, still rubbing her ears. “For bucks sake, I still can’t hear shit,” she muttered. “Someone needs to get you a muzzle Moonbutt.”
“Tis your fault, barging in like that!” Luna replied as she rolled the dice. “How am I supposed to react to your chitinous flank storming into my room at flank o’clock in the morning, screaming my name!?”
“It’s the middle of the afternoon!” Chrysalis retorted as she looked at the piece of paper in front of her. “And what is this? Those dice are friggin rigged.”
“You are just terrible at this,” Luna replied, looking at her own character sheet. She looked at her stallion as he placed the figurines on the map. “I also find it highly amusing that a Changeling is terrible at role-playing.”
“Oh shut up!” the queen snapped as she rolled the dice. Two ones. “Dammit! Shining wouldn't stop until I’d played this stupid game. I thought he had something else in mind when he said he wanted to ‘role-play’.”
Luna found that scenario to be highly amusing. As did her stallion.
“Well, I cast... ‘Seduction’,” Chrysalis nodded, and rolled the dice.
Two ones.
“Oh for fu-”
“It failed, and now you are dead,” the stallion said. Luna laughed as she downed her coffee.
“So where is my sister? I can’t believe she let you run around without a leash.”
“Beats me,” Chrysalis shrugged as she lit up her horn and cast a spell that projected herself out into the castle. A simple scrying spell really. “Let’s see what she’s doi-”
“...Chryssie?” Luna tilted her head.
Once the Changeling queen would stop screaming, she would proceed to tell them that there is not enough brain-bleach in all the universe...