//------------------------------// // 7. Television is Bad for You // Story: Catherine the Great // by Scarheart //------------------------------// Edited by DJ_Neon_Lights, Kudzuhaiku, and TuxOKC. The song in this chapter is original and has no known music written to it. Catherine woke up from her nap. She realized she was still in her bed, her favorite plushies in their rightful place in the corner, pushed up against the wall. The little girl could feel the blanket over her, one her grandmother had gotten her last Christmas. She felt better. The tummyache was gone. Sunlight streamed into her room through her partially closed blinds. The streaks of light crossed over her bed. She sat up, rubbing her eyes as they adjusted to the light in the room. It was quiet. Crawling to the edge of her bed, Catherine first looked around. She could only see her My Little Pony plushies on her bed, her book shelf filled with toys and books. The little desk where she did her coloring sat in its usual place, her latest and greatest project unfinished. An unfinished coloring of Twilight Sparkle and Spike awaited Catherine’s attention. She could make out the Princess of Friendship hugging her Number One Assistant. Catherine loved Twilight. Twilight was best pony! From the edge of the bed, Catherine flattened herself out and hung over the side. After a moment to make sure she wasn’t going to fall off, she leaned over and peered under her bed. Two pairs of glowing blue eyes blinked at her. “Your Majesty!” one changeling greeted quietly. “Your mother did not want us to disturb you, but we hid under your bed anyways. Please forgive us!” “You aren’t a dream?” Catherine asked, curious. “Why are you under my bed?” “What happened last night was real, Queen Catherine!” The changeling said, unmoving from her spot. “Cabbage and I are under the bed to watch over you. We are your guards. We don’t have a clue as to how to guard you. Our jobs were menial in the hive. Scrubbing floors, cleaning bathrooms, eating spiders.” “Crush your enemies, see them driven before you, and hear the peeling of the potatoes!” Cabbage babbled with a happy smile. “Get out of there and join me on the bed,” Catherine said with a wide grin. The two changelings did so. “I thought it was all a dream!” Disbelief changed to joy. Cabbage was hugged, then Angela. Both changelings liked being hugged. The girl looked around. She noticed the door to her room was closed. The changelings followed her gaze. Angela frowned and licked her lips. Cabbage made a low chittering sound, like a buzzing warble. The hornless changeling was always happy, or seemed it. Unlike most changelings, his emotions were always clouded and hidden. It was easy to dismiss his mind as simple. “I don’t hear my changelings,” Catherine whispered to Angela. Angela sighed. Telling her would break her heart. She could feel the connection between her and her new queen. It was small and fragile, but she could feel it. In time, the changeling hoped, it would grow and her brothers and sisters would have a proper queen. They had done everything to find the right fit for them! They had come so far, suffering so much! Cabbage circled tightly on the bed, flicking his wings as he stared at his hooves. His eyes bore determination. Once. Twice. Three times, he spun. Then, he plopped down with a sigh, his eyelids lowering until his eyes became lazy slits. Cabbage yawned, then smacked his lips. Catherine reached over to scratch behind an ear. He leaned into it, whimpering as he did. There were simply not enough fingers! Catherine, however, did not share his happiness. She was worried, a growing anxiety filling her heart. “Where are my changelings?” she asked as only a little girl could. “They had to leave,” Angela replied in a soft voice. “Why?” Tears were brimming in her queen’s green eyes. “Catherine, please understand,” Angela avoided using the beloved title. She and her siblings had waited so long to bestow upon the one being they believed had all the tangibles a changeling hive needed to survive. “They were afraid of us. We are different. We are something unknown to them.” “Where is Speaker? Mommy? Daddy?” Catherine slid out of bed, rubbing her eyes. She reached for the door knob. She found she could not grasp it. A slight green aura held her hand in place. She stared at it. The aura also shimmered for half a breath along the walls and the door. It disappeared, but the glow still held her hand fast. “There are woods behind your house. Your mother and father asked us to go in there,” Angela said. “They were upset. The house is too small for all of us. There was a misunderstanding.” “Party pooper,” Cabbage grumbled from the bed. “Pooper party.” Catherine could now hear her mother’s voice through the door. “...and then they took all of my figurines and put them in front of the television!” “I know. I saw,” Daddy replied. He sounded tired. “Everything looks nicked. There are holes in the ceiling and the walls. There is green goop on the ceiling and the walls.” He let out a frustrated growl. “What happened?” Catherine turned to Angela. The changeling wore an uncomfortable smile. “My brothers and sisters… well… the thing that has the talking pictures, like movie films,” she said with a shiver. “The big object that has shows on it—” “Television?’ Catherine supplied, wanting to be helpful. She scrunched her nose. She dropped her hand and the weird tingly sensation went away. Angela smiled and nodded. “Yes! The idiot box! Well, it turned a lot of my brothers and sisters into idiots. They began to worship the television, placing sacrifices of various small objects on the floor. Your mother had been cleaning the kitchen after Gordon made a mess.” “Gordon turned into me!” Catherine said, remembering. “How did he do that?” “It’s what we changelings can do,” Angela replied with a little proud smile. “We can look like anything we want, so long as it is close to our size.” The girl’s eyes went wide. “Really?” “Well,” the changeling blushed, if Catherine were to guess. “Some changelings are better at it than others. Gordon was an infiltrator. Infiltrators like him are very good at it. He’s had lots of practice looking like other ponies. Part of the reason why my brothers and sisters were stuck at the hive was because most of us aren’t very good at shapeshifting.” “Can you do it?” Catherine’s eyes were round with wonder. “Can you look like me?” Angela became downcast and stared at her hooves. “No. My magic isn’t strong enough. Mother kept us at the hive because she said we would ruin her plans. Gordon had to return to the hive because he was starting to like ponies. He liked cooking more than he liked being an infiltrator.” “Mama loved us,” Cabbage said in a sad voice. “Mama used to sing to us. Mama had a pretty voice.” His lower lip protruded and he sniffled in misery. The change in his attitude was so sudden, it caught even his sister off guard. “Mama doesn’t sing anymore. Cabbage made Mama mad and she won’t sing anymore because of it.” Angela splayed her ears and trotted to her brother. She nuzzled him. “Shh. Don’t cry, Cabbage. We have a new queen. Everything is going to get better.” Cabbage burst into green fire. A jagged horn ripped through the flames and the form within it grew. When it receded, a larger and much more menacing creature lay in his place. It had longer legs. It had more holes in it. Large catlike eyes of emerald fire blazed down upon the changeling and the human. They gaped in awe as the long and supple neck bent as the muzzle tilted forward. “Mama was so pretty,” said the transformed Cabbage in his own voice. “Mama loved us.” He sang. As his voice lifted, it changed to a gentle sadness of regret and loss: Love, Mama gave to us Love, Mama wanted for us Love, Mama craved for us Love, always slipping from us She was Mama, she was Queen, If she loved us, why was she so mean? Taking from the ponies From the shadows Imitating,acting, being like them Ponies, ponies, always the ponies They had more love Than Mama had ever dreamed Being like the ponies From the shadows Learning, watching, taking from them Ponies, ponies, always the ponies They laughed and played Not knowing we all were there Love, Mama gave to us Love, Mama wanted for us Love, Mama craved for us Love, always slipping from us She was Mama, she was Queen, If she loved us, why was she so mean? She saw the princess She saw the rising sun Mama wanted to be The ruler of the sun She could not be happy She could not feel harmony A queen before mother Evil unlike any other Cabbage sighed a burdened sigh in his disguise, reaching a hoof gingerly out to Catherine. She took it, sliding along side until she was at the side of the bed, her bare feet scuffling along the carpet. He leaned into her petting hands and offered a weak smile. Mama, she wanted, wanted For us the very best, to rule Mama, she pushed, pushed Her jealousy, nightmare fuel Kindness, what we wanted, true Denied us harmony, made us blue Love, Mama gave to us Love, Mama wanted for us Love, Mama craved for us Love, always slipping from us She was Mama, she was Queen, If she loved us, why was she so mean? We ran away, ran away Mama did forsake her love We ran away, ran away Because us aside, she did shove We ran away, ran away We ran away, ran away Oh, Mama, we loved you once Oh, Mama, we worshipped you once But we had to run away We ran away, ran away Love, Mama gave to us Love, Mama wanted for us Love, Mama craved for us Love, always slipping from us She was Mama, she was Queen, If she loved us, why was she so mean? Cabbage was again engulfed in flame, the large form giving way to the simple creature who had one feature that distinguished him from his brothers and sisters. Cabbage cried, for he was a simple creature who could not understand why the one changeling who had once made him feel safe and secure had become so mean and spiteful. He missed her singing. He missed her soft laughter. He missed what had once been his mother. Cabbage could not understand. Angela wondered, as always, how Cabbage could have such moments of crystal clarity. At times, like this, he could tap into a magic he should not have access to. Her shock at his transformation rattled her. Still, he was her brother. He was her sweet, older brother who had always looked after his younger siblings after they hatched. It was the only task Mother had ever given him. It was one he was suited for perfectly. Cabbage was as gentle as a lamb, even if he was prone to drooling at times. “Don’t cry,” Catherine pleaded. She petted the changeling. “Please don’t cry. I’m your queen now.” “Potato,” came the sniffling reply. Pitiful Cabbage nuzzled into the affections of the little girl, who had wrapped her arms around his neck. She hugged him. There was silence as the embrace was just long enough to make a changeling feel better. Snot ran from Cabbage’s nose and had smeared over Catherine’s pajamas. Either she didn’t know or just didn’t care, the girl chose be there for Cabbage. It was the right thing to do. The girl thought about her parents. They were afraid. Catherine was also afraid, but curiosity and wonder overcame her fear. Where was their curiosity and wonder? Why could they not understand? Changelings could be great friends! Catherine wanted them to be her friends. If they were her friends, she reasoned, then Mother and Father would accept them as friends, too! She thought about the changelings who had come up from under her bed and chose her to be their queen. Catherine began to think there were a lot of things that didn’t make sense to her. It was magic. It had to be magic! Beneath her bed they had all been, emerging one by one, nervous at meeting her, talking to her. “I cast a spell on the room to keep the noise out,” Angela said quietly. “Your mother said you were sick from eating too much sugar and not getting a good night’s sleep. She was upset. I made your tummy not feel upset. How do you feel, Catherine?” She was making it a point to avoid calling the girl her queen. She remembered Beatrice and her outburst. She had felt the tension skyrocketing immediately after Gordon’s accident. The stress had been bad before, but the changeling had sense enough to put a sound dampening spell on Catherine’s room. Her queen waking to the rising octaves of the human woman’s voice would not have been good. “You can cast magic?” Catherine asked with a curious gleam in her eye. “Can you teach me how to do magic?” “You can do magic, Catherine. All humans have magic. They simply don’t know how to use it.” The changeling wondered about her own words. She was not sure how true or untrue they were. Humans and magic were new to them, even more of an unknown than this new world. Newton was the smartest of the changelings. He had theories, but even he was not certain of some things. It was quite possible, Angela remembered him saying, humans could never be able to tap into the magic they have within them. Humans were too stubborn and too set in their ways. The harmony they had with their world was uncertain and magic required certainties and harmony. It was also quite possible, he had added back then, humans simply forgot how to use magic. “Did Mommy and Daddy kick you out?” Catherine asked in a low voice. She pulled away from Cabbage and directed her attention to Angela. “My brothers and sisters didn’t mean to ruin the house, but we have jagged horns and we don’t pay attention when we dance. Accidents happen. Little accidents. They added up. Your parents feel threatened. Their home was damaged. Things were dinged. Objects were dented. We became so caught up in our joy of having found our queen, we did not take into consideration how your parents might feel.” The changeling sighed, a deep sigh filled with regret. “We have never had our own minds before. Even after weeks and weeks of being separated from Mother’s mind, many of us still struggle to find our individual identities. It is hard, Catherine. It is very hard for some to adapt to having their own mind. Those changelings are the ones that can’t or won’t accept having free will. It is such a foreign concept for them. Do you understand?” The blank look on the girl’s face was followed up with a ‘no’. “But I want to help,” Catherine insisted in earnest. “Their thoughts are linked to those who have had a chance to go beyond the barrier of a group mind. It pulls us back to them and we have to guide them. They need to be told constantly everything will be all right and we will have a queen again. Those changelings, they need a queen. They need a strong mind to guide them. It is how they are and they can’t help it.” Angela buzzed her voice in a sad reverberation. It seemed as though she was speaking to herself more than she was to Catherine. The girl, not understanding all of what the changeling meant, did have an idea. She was far from stupid. Catherine was a clever girl when she set her mind to it. Her teacher said she was the smartest girl in the First Grade. Certainly more mature even though her attention tended to wander. Catherine was also a bit of a chatty Cathy, or Mrs. Bates had once told her. It was even in a note attached to her report card this past quarter saying so. But, this was not a moment where Catherine wanted to think. She became upset when Angela told her the changelings had been sent away by her parents. They were her changelings! They had chosen her to be their queen! They had looked a long time for her and now Mommy and Daddy told them to go away! “It’s not fair!” Catherine judged, feeling impulsive. Childish rage marred her features. Turning from the changelings on the bed, she stomped towards the door and grabbed the knob. “Mommy! Daddy! Why did you send my changelings away?” she demanded as she tore the door open with all the strength of your typical six-year-old. Angela stared after the wake of the departed child. “That could have gone better,” she muttered. The changeling took to the air and followed after Catherine. “Cabbage. Stay here.” Cabbage wiped his snotty nose with the back of a hoof. “Mmrph,” he mmrphed.