Interview with a Vampire
A single changeling sat before the camera, a cocky smirk on her face. She had a spiky, electric blue mane and a pair of large purple sunglasses covering her eyes.
“So, Miss Scratch,” the interviewer began.
“Just Vinyl, dude. I'm not that old, yet,” corrected the changeling.
“Alright, Vinyl... How did you come to live in pony society?”
The changeling shifted, her smirk faltering slightly. “Well, I was a scout, see. It was my job to find places and ponies that had a lot of love and report them to the collectors. Well, one day in Canterlot, I felt some weird mix of emotions I never felt before.
“I followed it to a place called The Beat Box. It was a new place, and at the time, the only one of its kind. Obviously, I couldn't just go back and report without knowing more so I got in line. After about an hour, I got in.
“Let me tell you something, that first time I stepped into a club...” Vinyl let out a happy sigh, “It was like nothing else I've ever felt. It was like the rush you get when you steal love, but without the emptiness. I wanted more, so I went back every day for three days straight.
“On the third day...” Vinyl shifted uncomfortably.
“You don't have to continue if you want to,” said the interviewer.
Vinyl insisted, “No, I want to. It'll be good for me.
“Anyway, on the third day withdraws hit. The club was a rush, but it wasn't satisfying the addiction. I needed my fix, and I needed it now. So I went on the prowl. I took a form that most ponies would consider attractive and headed to the club.
“I didn't take long to find some poor sap. The mare looked maybe fifteen or sixteen, barely an adult. I just wandered up to her, and struck up conversation. After about half an hour and several drinks, I convinced her to go with me.
“We left the club, and I lead her to an alley. While she was looking away, blushing and talking about how she had never done it before, I dropped my disguise and pounced. But something weird happened; I hesitated. I looked down at the terrified mare, and I just couldn't. I had fed plenty, but that was before The Beat Box. I hadn't even realized it, but I had made friends there. I knew ponies by name, not because it was my job, but because I enjoyed being around them.
“That was when the mare told me, 'There's a better way'. She was still frightened, but I could feel concern coming from her, too. I asked her what she meant, and she told me about a group of ponies and changelings that help addicts like me get away from the Queen's influence.”
Vinyl lifted her sunglasses to wipe away a tear. “That mare saved me, even when I was going to hurt her. Now, she's the love of my life.”
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For changelings, anonymity is their first defense. However, with the sudden rise in changeling acceptance, more and more and beginning to reveal themselves. Not only have changelings that have lived in peace with ponies for years come forward, but changeling addicts have come forward, seeking help.
One changeling is preparing to follow in the hoofsteps of those brave few that came before. This is Coco Pommel (a beige earth pony with a pale blue mane sat running fabric through a sewing machine), a rising star in the fashion community.
“Miss Pommel, why did you decide to reveal yourself? You're aware this could damage your reputation.” asked an interview to Coco, now sitting in a chair facing the camera.
“I realize, but... I'm tired of living a lie. I've always hated it, but I was scared. Seeing so many others, though, makes me realize that there are ponies that are willing to accept us. My reputation may be hurt, but I think it'll recover once we prove that we just want to live in peace and harmony.”
Today, Coco is meeting with long time friends, Rarity Belle and Pinkamena “Pinkie” Pie to plan her 'coming out party'.
A knock at the door.
“Come in!” called Coco.
Pinkie Pie hopped in, followed closely by Rarity and a third mare, an off-white earth pony with curly red hair and thick glasses.
“Hello, my dear,” greeted Rarity. “This is Twist.” She gestured to the other mare. “The pony I told you about. She agreed to help Pinkie with he refreshments.”
Coco looked at the new mare nervously.
“I hadn't met many other changelings before,” said Coco. “I knew about the local community meetings, but I was always too scared to go. Really, I had only known my parents, and my brother.”
“Alright, ponies!” called Pinkie. “Let's get this party prep party started!”
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The party was in full swing. Invitations had been sent out to all of Coco's friends, clients, business partners, and suppliers, all of whom only know that an important announcement was to take place later in the evening. Gossip and speculation, from announcing an engagement or retirement, to admitting to being a changeling, abound as ponies entertain themselves over particularly delicious food and drink.
Finally, the moment of truth arrives.
“I'm nervous,” Coco said. “I know I'm going to lose clients and associates to this, and maybe even a supplier or two. A part of me just wants to run away, but I can't now.” She takes a deep, calming breath. “Wish me luck.”
Coco steps up onto the stage with Rarity, Pinkie, and Applejack, who had arrived earlier in the day to support her friend, behind her, drawing the attention of every pony in the room.
“Excuse me, everypony,” Coco called out to grab the attention of those few that hadn't noticed. “Thank you all for coming. Now, before I say what I gathered you all to say, I just want to say, thank you. I know that some of you will likely want nothing more to do with me after today, but just know that I'm still grateful for all of your support.”
Coco took a moment to steel her nerves before continuing. “I've lied to you all.” A shocked murmur rose up through the crowd. “I... am a changeling.”
The quiet muttering exploded into animate shouting, cheering, and talking. Several ponies made for the exit, obviously angry, one mare even ripping the dress from her body before storming out. Coco, to her credit, took it in stride, waiting patiently for them to leave before continuing.
“Once again, I'm sorry for lying. It's never been easy for us to reveal ourselves, even to our closest friends. We're called monsters, parasites, abominations... And some of us are, only making things worse. I don't expect any of you to want anything to do with me. I only ask that you give me a chance.”
“Miss Pommel!” Called a stallion's voice from the crowd, one she recognized as one of her clients, often ordering suits. “How many ponies have you hurt?”
Coco looked aghast at that. “None! I was never part of the queendom. My grandparents defected before my mother was even born.”
“How can we know?” asked a mare. She was the one who provided Coco with her silks.
Coco sighed, “You can't. There's nothing I can do or say to guarantee I'm being honest. I can only show you who I am now.”
A few more ponies left, though some looked more conflicted than others.
A brown stallion, one the delivery ponies she would often hire, raised a glass held in his hoof. “As far as I'm concerned, as long as you're the same Miss Pommel that we all know, you could be a squirrel for all I care.”
This was met with numerous cheers of agreement.
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The young prince sat nervously in the soft chair, though, he was trying to maintain a regal poise.
“I could never hate my mother. Yes, she's misguided and delusional, but she was always kind to me. Despite what a lot of ponies want to think, she's not a tyrant. She treats every one of her subjects with care and love. In that regard, she's a lot like Princess Celestia.
“That said, I won't stand idly by and let her hurt ponies. I may still love my mother, but I hate what she does.
He looked straight at the camera and pleaded, “Mother, if you're watching this, please stop. You're hurting our people. The princesses are still willing to broker peace, if you'll only give it a chance. Give up your claim to the Equestrian throne, and give our people a better life.”