Kildeez and Sifty's Shameless Self-Insert Adventures in Equestria!

by kildeez

Entry XVI: Ranting and Exposition, by Kildeez

“Shoot.”

“O-okay…” Cypher considers for a second, biting his lip. Finally, he nods to himself and turns on me. “Wh-what’s Earth like?”

“What’s Equestria like?” I ask, rolling my eyes.

“H-hey! You said it was my turn t-to ask a question!”

“I know, and I was answering with a question of my own,” I pause in the middle of the dirt road and eye him. “Cypher, imagine a complete alien, someone who’d never been here before, popped into existence right in front of us and asked you to answer that question. Could you? Without a long, rambling, hour-long lecture?”

He stops next to me, his forehead wrinkling in thought. A few seconds pass, and he looks up at me again. “I’d still try anyway, i-if he asked nice enough.”

I grin at him. “Well said.”

“Th-thanks.”

I take a long, deep breath, trying to gather up my thoughts. “Earth…is…very different,” I start, picking up my walking pace again. “For one thing, humans are the only sapient species.”

“S-sapi…”

“It means we’re the only ones capable of most logic and reasoning, and definitely the only ones to found a society,” I wave a hand dismissively. “There are some social structures in animals like gorillas, but that’s really it. You don’t have birds listening to reason over there.”

“O-oh!” He beams. “That must mean th-things are a lot easier!”

“Not even close,” I mutter. “We’re omnivores, remember? It’s possible for a human to go without meat if they balance out their nuts and starches, but in the end, if we want the protein we need to build muscle, we have to go hunting.”

Out the corner of my eye, I watch his chitin get very pale. “H-hunting?”

“It’s not so bad, since our animals aren’t sapient,” I shrug.

“O-oh yeah,” a little bit of color returns to his chitin, though not much. “S-still, with just the one species, you guys probably got along okay, right?”

Legends will be written about the laughter which burst forth from my lungs on this day. It rolled over the hills far and wide, echoing deep into the darkest corners of the planet. My snickers bounced through the deepest, darkest tunnels and stirred things better left unwoken. My giggles resounded in the ears of creatures so far from the light that it was interpreted as a possible attack by an enemy tribe, and so triggered at least one unknown war in a forbidden corner of the planet. As it died down, my chortles boomed across the plains and helped the blind see, the deaf hear, and caused at least one rogue changeling serial killer to commit seppuku.

When it finally ended, I sat up with an aching stomach, wiped a tear from my eye, and thanked God I didn’t wet myself.

“As if,” I scream, trying my best to keep another round of laughter from breaking loose. “Humans go to war because they’re bored, or to pass the time, or because some pompous asshole in a suit snubbed another pompous asshole in a slightly less expensive suit. We talk about how awful and inhumane one side or another is, well, I’m here to tell ya it’s fucking war that’s awful and inhumane. I mean, back home, people turn on the TV and act all shocked about the images of kids with legs blown off, babies clutching at the dead bodies of their mothers, nurses wheeling in guys with shrapnel lodged in their faces. And they act surprised. As if that’s something new. As if that shit hadn’t been going on for centuries, as if there’s some clearly defined ‘bad guys’ in black uniforms and scowling faces that we can just fly over and shoot the shit out of, then fly back in time for dinner with the family while the newly-liberated natives hoist up American flags. As if war is just that, and not those motherless babies and those kids who’ll never make it to soccer stardom because of their new stumps and those young boys wondering if they’ll live to see another sunrise. As if that only happens because of some ‘bad’ guys in the offending side, while their country’s hands are clean because they went over there to ‘help’ people. I mean, can you believe that!? Jesus fucking Christ, how godlessly stupid can you get!? How fucking stupid can you be to go to war without expecting armless babies and kids with their teeth blown out by stray bullets!?”

“I-I…wh-why would…”

“Ohhh, people tried to blame all sorts of shit, y’know? Like religion, or the Ay-rabs hoarding the oil, or the white people fucking over the Third World, but in the end, it was pretty much just motherfuckers grabbing up shit that they wanted, and not caring about stomping in some babies’ skulls along the way.”

He opens his mouth to get a word in, but I’m on a roll. “’Absolute power corrupts absolutely,’ the great French conqueror Napoleon Bonaparte said that, and believe me, he knew. So many men set out to make the world better, only to wind up becoming everything they once stood against. Either that, or they never really stood against them in the first place and were only saying they did to make more people step in line behind them, and it fucking happened over and over again and again. And you wanna know the price? You wanna know the cost of not learning…of refusing to learn…these lessons? In World War Two, do you know how many fucking people died?”

Stunned speechless, he shakes his head.

“Seventy. Million. Seventy million lives stomped out, ancient cities filled with priceless works reduced to rubble…Rome…Berlin…Tokyo…London…all for what? Because a little man with an awful mustache thought the world would be better without a big chunk of people in it. Ooh, ooh, and I’m just getting started!”

I turn on him. His eyes are still wide and his legs are quaking from my tirade, or maybe it’s the sheer numbers I’m quoting at him, who knows? Who cares? “In the end, World War Two was just settling accounts for World War One, so you can add another seventeen-million bodies on top of the first seventy. The Spanish Civil War was used as a training ground for the new equipment the Axis powers wanted to shove down the Allies’ throats. Thanks to them, what should’ve been a quick flare-up that was crushed quickly turned into a protracted cock-up that killed a half-million people. And I’m not even going to talk about the long and protracted Cold War between the so-called ‘victors,’ which wound up being a dick-waving match that burned through the poorest places on the planet. Korea: one and a half million dead there. Vietnam: we can’t even tell, we think it’s around two or four million, and that’s just while we were involved. The French got their asses kicked before that, which was another half-million, and I could go on about all the little shitbuckets kicking asses after the Westerners got out. Then you’ve got the Suez Canal incident, the FARC insurgencies in Columbia, the Pinochet coup in Chile, the Shining Path insurrection in Peru, the Iranian revolution, the failed Bay of Pigs invasion, the Ethiopian wars against Somalia and Eritrea, I could go on for hours just naming the fucking things, never mind counting the dead. And that’s just one century.”

I finally pause, taking a breath. My shoulders are heaving. I look down at my hands. At some point, my claws had extended. I sheathe them again. Cypher just looks at me through a hole in his leg, hiding behind it like a kid hoping that covering his eyes will protect him from the monsters in his closet. “So no, Cypher,” I whisper. “Earth is not a peaceful place. In fact, it’s the least peaceful place I know.”

I turn and start down the road again. He follows, but with his head lowered and his ears folded down. He doesn’t talk for a while, which lets me calm down a bit and realize I’ve snapped at him for no good reason.

“Hey, listen,” I start. “Sorry for snapping like that, I didn’t…”

“No, I’m sorry,” he says. “I shouldn’t have made you dig up all that stuff.”

“I’ve always felt kinda passionate about this shit, but there’s no way you could’ve known that.”

He sighs. “Well, at least now I understand how you can do the things you do. You’d have to be tough to survive where you came from.”

I turn to him, my mouth dropping open as I realize my mistake. I just made his very first impression of Earth, and it was of a war-torn hellhole. A completely alien species, and that’s how I establish contact. Great Deez, epic diplomacy skillz right there. How did I manage to not start a war during my tenure as Chrysalis’s diplomat in Canterlot?

Snickering at my own stupidity, I shake my head. “No, you really don’t. Especially not where I came from.”

“B-but you said…”

“I know what I said, and it was true, every word. But one thing I’ve noticed: the darker the shadows, the brighter the light has to shine against them.”

He looks up, forehead crinkling again, and I roll my eyes. “If all that shit I talked about was all there was to Earth, do you think I’d be fighting against the Nightmare?”

“U-um…you could be fighting against it t-to keep Equestria from sharing the fate of your planet?”

I give him a good, hard swat against the back of his head. “H-hey!” He shouts, rubbing at the sore spot.

“Where’d ya get that from, an anime?” I snicker. “Naw man, I’m fighting the Nightmare because it’s what’s right; you think I’d even have a concept of right and wrong if Earth was just one, big, free-for-all warzone?”

“U-um…”

“Cypher, what was ‘right’ to you during the month you were part of the Nightmare Collective?”

His forehead crinkles deeply. He should really stop doing that: dude’s gonna have the forehead of a ninety year-old man if he keeps it up. Finally, his eyes widen. I smile. He’s got it. “S-serving them,” he whispers, his jaw dropping its full impressive length. “There were things that didn’t feel right, b-but I went with them because…um…because…”

“Because it was all you knew,” I nod. “Kindness begets kindness, just like violence begets violence.”

“B-but…in a world of so much war…”

“There’s plenty opportunity for astounding kindness,” I whisper, pausing in my step. “During the September 11th terrorist attacks, I remember one survivor recounting a security guard who stayed on an upper floor stairway, directing people out before the building could collapse. This guy probably had no training and likely wasn’t allowed to carry a gun, making seven bucks an hour, and he died saving a bunch of people that had probably been turning their noses up at him for years as they walked by to their desks. During the Egyptian Revolution, Muslims and Christians formed lines around each other’s prayer ceremonies, protecting absolute strangers from extremists on both sides. Back in the Battle of Okinawa, during dubya-dubya-two, a man earned a Congressional Medal of Honor without firing a shot by dragging his entire group to safety after they were hit by heavy enemy fire, saving a group of men he’d probably met that morning. Yes, war is shitty, but you know what? It’s in the shittiest situations where the very best in people can come out. And dude, what comes out then is so beyond beautiful that words can’t describe it. Poets and writers and artists have been trying for centuries, and nothing quite gets it right.

“So whenever that shit gets me down, I just remember the words of a wise man: ‘The reason I don’t worry about society is, nineteen people knocked down two buildings and killed thousands. Hundreds of people ran into those buildings to save them. I’ll take those odds every fucking day.’ Yeah, humans fuck up; I’ll be the first to admit that. But there’s beauty on Earth, Cypher, and there are millions fighting for it every single day.”

Another awkward silence. This is starting to become a tradition with us. Cypher’s mouth keeps opening and closing, like a goldfish gaping out of its bowl, but nothing quite seems able to make it past his lips. Finally, he turns to me, and his eyes widen. “A-are you crying!?”

“Hmm?” I run a finger along under one of my eyes and arch an eyebrow at the moisture hanging off my finger. “Huh. Look at that.”

The awkward silence that follows this stretches on a while longer. Mostly because there’s no way to respond to a guy crying that isn’t awkward. Fortunately, Cypher’s a lot better at breaking the ice than I am.

“Wh-who said that? That quote about the b-buildings?” He asks.

I grin. “A comedian who does really funny jokes about current events.”

Without even looking, I knew Cypher was staring at me with his head cocked, trying to decide if he should raise his tendril-blades defensively or not.

“You can’t decide if I’m insane or not, can you?” I ask.

“No, I c-can’t.”

“Don’t expect that to improve, man. In fact, it’s probably going to get less clear over time,” I smirk, giving a half-cocked grin out the corner of my mouth, flashing a friendly fang his way.

It works. The familiar expression of changeling loyalty calms some of his shivering, and his breathing evens out. “S-so it’s your turn,” he says, noticeably avoiding eye contact.

“Hmm?”

“I asked a question, n-now it’s your turn.”

“Oh yeah, uh…” I tap my chin for a second, and then grin wickedly. “You remember yet?”

Groaning, he pushes past me and muscles on down the road. “For the last time, no! I don’t remember what Chittery looked like when she masturbated!”

“Not even a flash of something? I just wanna know if she used her hoof or if she got creative with a loofah.”

Stammering, he turns away and starts muttering to himself. I can see a light-green blush creeping up the chitin on the back of his neck. I grin and kneel beside him, giving him a quick pat on the shoulder. He flinches under my fingers. “Hey look, I’m just messing with…”

“Oh my sweetest and almighty flank, will you two just kiss and make out already!?” A tree shrieks from the side of the path.

Rolling my eyes, I deliver a healthy boot to the pink-hued trunk, and a whole bundle of horny changeling princess drops into my outstretched arms. I grimace as she smiles up at me. “For your information, it’s ‘kiss and make up’, not ‘make out’.”

Her smile fades and she cocks her head. “Really?”

“Yes.”

“Hm. Well, mine’s better.”

“I’m sure you think so,” I grumble as I set her on all fours. “So, what’s the deal?”

“I think we got a straight shot to Canterlot,” she says, smiling up at me. “Of course, I couldn’t see much besides a bunch of tree tops, but I don’t think we’ll have much trouble on our way.”

“That’s good…” I mumble thoughtfully, shifting back to my human form. “We might as well start looking friendlier.”

“Not just yet,” Chittery holds up a hoof. “Because Canterlot itself is swamped with Nightmares. I can’t even begin to tell you how many: they looked like just one, big mass, and really it kinda…hurt just to look at them all.”

“Whatever’s over there is some straight-up Lovecraft shit,” I grimace. Anything that looks bad enough to cause a mind like Chittery’s to double back and twist around just to look at them has to be some next level shit. “Dammit, no way we can take something like that.”

“Then how do we get in?” Cypher asks.

“Good question,” I shake my head, my thumb running little circles against my temple. “Ugh, Sifty would probably be able to handle this…or he’d know how…”

“Couldn’t you just go full minotaur again?” Chittery asks. Cypher gawps at her. Apparently, I’d forgotten to mention that little detail.

“Against Cthuhlu’s angrier cousin?” I grimace. “Naw Princess, even a minotaur would get torn limb from limb against that.”

“Then what do we do?”

“We keep moving,” I sigh and start down the path again, glancing back at them as I pull a branch out of the way. “Try to figure it out when we get there.”

“Wh-what!?” Cypher looks around, head trying to whip over everything at once, which doesn’t do much for him except maybe grant a minor case of whiplash. “Y-you two can’t be serious!”

“We are,” I sigh.

“Cyphy, I’m sorry, I know this is a lot to absorb,” Chittery says with a smile so small it only exposes one fang. “We just don’t know enough about what’s happening in Canterlot to really do anything until we get close enough.”

“B-but…the Nightmare! You said there w-was something really bad around Canterlot!”

“Yeah,” I shrug. “So? We can’t do anything about it until we get closer.”

“If we get t-too close though, th-they’ll eat us!”

“We know,” Chittery runs a hoof along in the dirt, drawing a small line with the tip. “Look, Cyphy, you don’t have to come with us. I’m sure you could make it back to the Hive by yourself.”

He looks at her as if she just proposed he eat his own head. “Wh-what?!”

“It’s dangerous out here, and you’re just a scout…” she says, humming a bit, then quickly amending: “…were just a scout. You’re not meant for straight-up war and confrontation. Besides, if you get back to the Hive, they can study you, study the Nightmare, maybe even figure out how to reverse it, not just in you, but in everyone infected by it.”

He still looks at her as if there was another, tinier version of herself budding out her shoulder, like a spore off a mushroom. “Y-you’re serious?”

“Of course,” she offers with a little ‘shooing’ motion of her hoof.

He looks over at me, eyes still wide, and I shrug. “Do what’s best.” I offer.

He turns away at last, a slightly-thoughtful look finally overcoming those shocked, disturbed eyes, and finally he turns back to us. “I-if I wasn’t infected by the Nightmare, wh-what do you think I’d choose?”

We both blink at him. “Umm…that’s kinda hard to say, dude,” I mutter.

“That’s really only something you might have known yourself,” Chittery insists, rocking forward on her hooves, as if begging him to understand. “Your loyalty to the Hive might have taken precedence, but whether that meant loyalty to me or to the Hive as a whole would have been up to you. Just depends on what kind of stallion you were.”

“Yeah,” his eyebrows hunch, and suddenly he strides between us, trotting in the direction of Canterlot under my outstretched arm. “W-well, I like to think I’m the kind of stallion who’d stay.”

Chittery beams and darts to his side, pressing her lips to his cheek. I roll my eyes as his face flushes a dark fuchsia. “Really?” I grunt, shaking my head. “Fifteen rolls in the hay, and you still blush at a peck on the cheek!?”

He shrinks under Chittery’s foreleg as she giggles. “Oh yeah, if there was any doubt you were Cypher, it’s gone now,” she says, using a hoof to stifle any further laughter. I can’t help but smile. What can I say? Love is a beautiful thing, and besides, now something else is occupying Chittery’s eye besides yours tru…

“Just one more thing, K?”

I blink, startled out of my thoughts. “Yeah?”

She grins back at me and winks. “It was the showerhead. I ‘got creative’ with the showerhead.”

I stop right there, my eyes going wide. She winks again and flutters off with Cypher gaping and stammering alongside, which gives me plenty of time to block out the thought of Chittery in the shower, steam billowing off her chitin, the muscles in her back tensing as the stream of water from the showerhead runs lower and lower until finally GODDAMMIT FUCK SHIT FUCK SHIT NO! BAD BRAIN! BAD!

“For Christ’s… would you two get moving already!? My arm’s getting tired!” I bark, still holding the branch up.

Chittery smiles and ushers Cypher along, only to pause mid-step. Instead of hurrying on past the branch I’m so graciously holding for them, Chittery and Cypher gawp with widening eyes. Arching an eyebrow, I turn back to the branch, only to wind up staring down a large, gaping pink hole.

…

That was not a good image I conjured for myself there.

I really need to get away from this changeling hooker-princess. Her horniness is spreading.

There’s an explosion punctuating that thought, and my ankles are itchy. Once upon a time in southwest Saskatchewan, even eagles cry, because you can lead a gift-horse to her mouth but you can’t make her suck butter. So THAT is why you should eat wall candy and drink Jesus juice, Uncle Kracker! S’good for yaaaaaa...

“K…EE…”

My eyelids are pretty.

“KIL…Z…”

You can’t handle the Zima!

“KILDEEZ!”

“Buh!?” I start, shaking the stars from my eyes. I’m sitting up, my legs splayed out in front of me, my vision woozy. The shotgun is in both hands now, finger on the trigger, free hand midway through working the lever action. I pull my trigger hand free while my vision clears. Now, I can feel the pressure on the shotgun, and see Chittery’s hooves wrapped around the barrel, pushing it aside while she gazes up at me in concern. The scent of spent gunpowder fills my nostrils, and I can feel the beginnings of heat starting to travel up the barrel and through the handle. Have I been…shooting? Oh, wait. Shit.

“I almost blasted somepony, didn’t I?”

“Yep,” Chittery sighs, rolling her eyes, all concern melting away in an instant. “Great reflexes there, by the way. Take a little cannon to the face and immediately start shooting.”

“I was dazed!”

“And your reaction to this was to start blasting away like a redneck with more alcohol than brain cells in him!?”

“…damn. Okay, my bad.”

Nodding in satisfaction that my balls have been ripped off just that tiniest bit more, Chittery finally turns, watching Cypher struggle with something so violently pink it could only possibly belong to a cartoon for little girls. The two roll around in the dirt, his tendrils wrapped around the pink thing’s waist while the whatever-it-is let’s off a few high-pitched noises and flails violently. It takes me awhile, but I manage to trace out the shape of four hooves and a muzzle, as well as a mark that could only belong to one character in this insane, pony-filled world.

“PINKIEEE!” Chittery cries suddenly, throwing her hooves up in joy.

The pink thing pauses and perks up, a pair of baby-blues the size of dinner plates locking on us. “How do you know my…” she manages before Cypher tackles her with a high-pitched shriek and wrestles her to the ground, pinning her hooves with his own. Pinkie continues struggling under him for just long enough to conjure a whole host of uncomfortable images, while I continue to gawp. Meanwhile, Chittery decides to act like her usual cool, collected, infiltrator self and seize her in a hug around Cypher’s body, turning him into the meat of a two-mare sandwich.

Dammit, how is a guy that can’t go two sentences without a stutter have such a better love life than me?

“PINKIE! It’s been so long! How’s things!? Did you tell your parents about that one-night stand you had with…” Chittery babbles.

“Umm…wh-who are you?” Pinkie asks.

At that, Chittery’s eyes bug out (pun absolutely intended) and she releases her grip in a rush. “Oh…oh no…” she whispers, backing away.

“H-have you been spying on me?” Pinkie asks.

“Uhhh…yeah!” Chittery says with all the skill and conviction of a middle-schooler insisting he wasn’t sniffing whiteout, unaware of the little white ring around one nostril. “We…changelings have had you Element-Bearers under surveillance for months!”

Pinkie’s eyes narrow, glaring at Chittery with all the glare she can summon in her little, pink horsey body. Chittery grins, flashing her fangs as little drops of turquoise sweat gather on her chitin. Finally, Pinkie grins. “Wowee! You must’ve been hiding super-duper good!”

“Heheh…yeah…” Chittery snickers while my gawping continues.

“Okay, glad we got that sorted out,” Pinkie smiles, then tilts her head back. Her jaw drops to unleash a scream to rival a Black Gorger, nearly bringing me to my knees with its pitch and volume. “HAAAALLLPPP! THEY’RE GONNA FEED ME TO THEIR MONKEY-MONSTER!”

Alright kids, gather ‘round for another story from good ol’ Uncle Kildeez. Timmy, get offa my lap, I’m not that kinda uncle.

See, being perhaps the only changeling-human hybrid in existence has its drawbacks, especially once you prove you can kick ass with the best of them. Then, not only are you a weirdo, you’re a dangerous weirdo. For all you young’uns what can’t put two an’ two together, that makes it really hard to make friends. Or even casual acquaintances. Or just people who won’t spit at your feet and force you to edumicate them on why pissing you off is such a horrible idea. That, of course, means that once you’re an established ass-kicker, the fuckheads will make it so you can’t walk through the Hive without a certain “M” word whispered at your back instead of trying to beat you up. That leads to you having a certain amount of hatred reserved for said word.

All that being said, we can get back to the story at hand, where I’m up in a little pink pony’s face and screaming: “HEY! FUCK YOU, BITCH!”

She rolls her eyes around to gawp at me, jaw down by her chest as I point a still-clawed finger against her pretty-pink muzzle. “You look here, I’ve taken enough shit from changelings and Nightmares alike, don’t need any from you! So next time you feel like saying some BS about somebody for lookin’ a little different, maybe you should think about whether or not they’ll like what you’re sayin’, and more importantly, whether or not they’re capable of wiping the floor with your pretty, pink ass!”

I expect her to bawl, or break into a hasty apology, or act astounded at the “monkey-monster’s” ability for speech. Instead, she just rolls her eyes. “Duh, I knew that!” She says with a quick giggle-snort.

“Uh…what?”

“I knew all that stuff! What, do ya think you’re the first human to wander through these parts?”

“Then…” Cypher says, finally speaking up. “Th-then why’d you call him a monster if you knew what he was?”

“Well, I wanted to get him ranting and raving for one,” she replies, pointing at me. “I was watchin’ for a while, and he hits me as the kind to go off on a rant if somepony gives him the right trigger.”

“Understatement of the year,” Cypher grumbles under his breath, and I level a hot glare his way.

“But…why’d you want me ranting and raving?” I ask, eyebrows hunching in confusion.

At this, Pinkie throws her hooves up in the air with a gleeful smile. “Why, to distract you, silly! I’m the distraction!”

All three sets of eyes watching her widen. “Oh, shi-“ Chittery starts, but doesn’t have time to finish as a rushing blur of rainbows dives out of the canopy, aiming at my chest. Thanks to my reflexes and Pinkie’s inadvertent forewarning, I’m barely able to dodge, still earning a glancing blow against my side that whips me around a full hundred and eighty degrees. I yank the shotgun up, also on reflex, but quickly cross it defensively against my chest. Shelly’s loaded with solid bore rounds, and odds are I’m facing one of Pinkie’s friends. I have to remember my original mission: to improve relations between Equestria and the changelings. I doubt blasting an Element of Harmony’s face off would help with that.

“C’mere!” The violent rainbow shrieks as it twists around for another pass. At the same time, a dazzling display of light shimmers off a bush to my left. I don’t even glance at it, though judging from Chittery’s battlecry, I’m guessing it’s already being handled. I can focus entirely on the pegasus trying to mow my ass down.

Grimacing, I flick the shotgun at the very last moment at just the right angle to catch my attacker across the forehead. Reacting just as quickly, Rainbow pulls up, managing to bounce hooves-first off my weapon’s stock and backflip gracefully to the ground, wings flared.

“Not bad,” I point out.

“Thanks, you’re not bad yourself,” she spits before diving at me again. This time, I’m ready. My right hand springs open and the shotgun’s stock arcs out like the jaws of a trap. She sees it too late, her eyes widening as she tries to angle out of reach. I use the shotgun as a quick hook, catching the back of her neck with the stock and forcing her into my arms, where I grasp her in a bear hug.

Rainbow struggles for a second, her forelegs and wings trapped under my arms. I feel one of her hind legs pull back, readying for a buck to a very sensitive place.

“Do it, and I’ll break your spine,” I hiss, fangs baring.

I must have said it with enough conviction, because she quickly goes limp, albeit while shooting a death glare right into my eyes. Satisfied that I’m not gonna have to worry about my two favorite little soldiers any more than I already do, I turn to face the others. “Chittery!? You okay!?”

“Never better!” She announces from the bush. A second later, she pops out with a little, white unicorn hovering behind her, a huge glob of mucous-colored goo stuck around her horn.

“Ew, ew!” The struggling unicorn moans, running a hoof over her horn. “This best not get into my mane, you brute!”

“It won’t if you guys stop struggling!” Chittery barks. “It’s over! Stop it!”

There’s another buck from the pegasus in my grip, but then Miss Dash goes limp. The unicorn follows suit. Cypher is even able to stand, Pinkie in his grip. All three ponies bow their heads.

“Okay, what the fuck was that!?” I bark. “Somepony better start talkin’ before I get real pissed!”

“We’re here to protect our town from you meanies!” Pinkie replies, her head rising for a second, only to fall back again. “We’re…not really doing a good job of it.”

“Probably be doin’ a better job if Rares could hit a target to save her life…” Rainbow mutters in my arms.

“Ah! Rainbow!” The white unicorn gasps. “How can you…”

“Girls!” Chittery screeches, which surprisingly silences the ponies. The changeling glares at all three of them in turn. “I can’t believe you! Here we are, totally exposed out in the open, and you’re all arguing like a bunch of fillies!”

All three pony faces bow again, ears flopping against heads. Rainbow gets a queer look in her eye and opens her mouth to speak, but Chittery is relentless: “We are standing in the middle of the greatest crisis to face either of our species, and you three are gonna stand around, debating battle tactics in the middle of the woods!?”

“Waitasec,” Dash says, peering over my shoulder and holding up a hoof. “Both our species?”

Chittery rolls her eyes. “Nightmares don’t have a lot of love to give,” she says. “We lose ponies, we starve to death. Besides, the ugly buggers don’t seem to differentiate between changeling and pony, we’re all the same to them.”

“Ironic, isn’t it?” I laugh, maintaining a tight grip around Rainbow’s waist. “The only creatures to respect changelings and ponies as equals are a bunch of murderous, rampaging assholes!”

“Hey!” Rainbow yells from my arms, damn near deafening me in one ear. “Changelings could be equals if they’d just stop trying to enslave us all and make peace!”

“That’s actually what I’m here for,” I reply, turning her over in my arms and freeing one of her forehooves, which I extend my hand to. “Ambassador Kildeez, son of the Queen, ‘Chrysalis’s Fist’, occasional Minotaur, how y’all doin’?”

Three sets of eyes widen and three jaws drop. “Hold on, you’re him!?” Rainbow gasps.

“Yeppers!”

“You’re the one that takes out the rogue hives single-handed!?” Rarity puts in.

“Eyup.”

“You’re the terror of the Everfree frontiers!?” Pinkie adds.

“You got it!” I reply, feeling confident enough to set Rainbow down and spread my hands out. “So girls, whaddya think? Am I everything you thought I was?”

All three ponies remain quiet for an uncomfortably long amount of time. Long enough for my eyes, once pridefully closed, to creep open. “Um…girls?”

“No offense, dearie, but we thought you’d be taller.” The white unicorn puts in.

“Yeah, and have more muscles,” Rainbow says.

“Still pretty cute, though,” Pinkie whispers, earning a glare from Chittery.

My arms flop to my side and I grumble. “Well…look who beat who just now.”

All three sets of ears flop down again. Yeah, I know it was a hit below the belt, but I’m getting pretty tired of self-esteem-crushing insults in between attempts to get in my pants. I have Chittery for that.

“Yeah? We-well, if you’re on our side, then what’s that?” Rainbow scoffs, levelling both a hoof and an angry glare Cypher’s way. As per usual, Cypher recoils into a shaky mass of chitin.

“That’s just Cypher,” I grumble, rolling my eyes. “He knew the princess back in the days before the Portal Crisis, and was captured by a Nightmare Hive during a research mission into Equestria. We pulled him out of there before they totally converted him, though.”

“Oh, really?” Dash sneers, stomping up to him with a look on her face as if she fully expected his head to be under her hooves in a few seconds. Cypher, for his part, just cringed back as she scanned him with a half-slitted little glare.

“What’s your name!?” She barks.

“Ah! Cypher!” He screams, his voice getting high-pitched.

“Whaddya want with us!?” She screams back.

“I-I dunno! We’ve only just met you!”

“What are ya, a spy!? Are you here to spy on us, Nightmare!?”

“P-please don’t hurt meeeee-heee-heeeeee!” He whimpers, bladed tendrils wrapping protectively over his head.

I just sigh and roll my eyes over to Chittery. “Pride of the Hive you’ve got there,” I grumble.

“Oh, hush! He’s one of the best medics we’ve ever had!”

“If he’s a medic, why the hell was he picked to…”

I’m interrupted by Rainbow stomping back to us, glaring up at me. I glare right back. “Alright, you’re telling the truth,” she says. “No way a totally-converted Nightmare would be this wishy-washy.”

“H-hey!” Cypher yells after her.

“Oh, hush! Your wishy-washiness is the whole reason I can tell you from any other Nightmare,” Rainbow said, shooting a quick glare over her shoulder before focusing back on us. “So you guys look like you’re on the up and up.”

“Thank you,” I sigh with relief. “Glad to have that out of the way.”

“What are you doing out here, anyway?” Rarity says, her eyes still narrowed suspiciously. “You three are a very long way from the Badlands.”

“Technically, Chrysalide Hive is in the Everfree,” Chittery points out, motioning to herself and Cypher. “That’s where we’re from. And as I said, Cyphy was captured right at the start of the crisis, and for myself, I was sent off by my sister in a desperate attempt to find love.”

“And I was in Canterlot when the whole shebang started, but you probably knew that from the papers,” I shrug. “I was sent out to find some hero guy…a man named Siftstone? Maybe y’all heard of him?”

The ponies grow quiet. I notice Pinkie’s mane deflate a little, her curls straightening out oddly. “Ummm…did I say somethin’?” I ask, looking around as the ponies deflate like a Mylar lawn-decoration Santa the day after Christmas.

“Yeah,” Rainbow whispers, her voice strangely quiet. “We…we know ‘im.”

“I-is he…okay?” Pinkie asks, enough tears gathering in her eyes to make my heart wrench.

“We – uh, we don’t know,” I say, choosing my words carefully. Apparently, I’ve stumbled on a pretty decent can of emotional worms here, and not just opened it, but slammed it against a wall and hammered it with a baseball bat until it split open. “There was an…incident. He got sucked down one of the portals.”

“Oh.” Rarity says, and I can see tears gathering in her eyes as Rainbow Dash turns away suddenly, a few small droplets whipping off the tip of her muzzle as she does so. “So he could be anywhere…”

“You knew him,” Chittery says in surprise. “Oh my gosh, you knew him.”

Rainbow nods. “Yeah. And then we drove him away,” she sniffles, still facing away from us even though we can all see the tears dribbling into the foliage at her hooves.

“We didn’t –“ Pinkie starts.

“We knew how much he loved us, how much we meant to him, and still when things got a bit busy we ignored him. As if he were some toy we could put upon a shelf to play with later,” Rarity says, shooting Pinkie an angry glare through her tears. “Make no mistakes, Pinkie. We are the reason he left. I don’t care how many ponies want to blame the ease of the Nightmare Crisis forcing him to move on. It was all us.”

“Don’t…” Rainbow gasps, her voice shaking. “Please, not right now, Rares.”

“Hey, hey,” I say easily, strapping my shotgun to my back and kneeling at Pinkie’s side. I run my fingers along her back, hoping I can at least distract her from the tears. “It happens, alright?”

“Not to us,” Rarity says, her perfectly-coiffured mane bouncing as she bows her head. “We’re the Elements of Harmony. We are meant to be representatives of everything that friendship represents. But when life got a little bit difficult, we threw that all aside and chose our own petty desires over friendship.”

Rainbow let’s out a choked sob, and immediately Chittery embraces her. I give a wan smile. It’s the first time I’ve seen her embrace someone else in a way that isn’t overtly sexual. She nods at me and I nod back, continuing to run my fingers over Pinkie’s side.

“An-and now, we might never see him again,” Pinkie choked, her chest hitching under my hand. “That portal coulda dropped him a bazillion miles away for all we know…”

“Hussshhh,” I whisper. “Look, in my time with him, I watched Sifty do things no other man could’ve done, acquire powers no other man could’ve held, and survive shit that would’ve wiped out entire armies of lesser men. He’s gotten even stronger since you saw him. Wherever he is, I’m sure he’s fine.”

“Yeah,” Rainbow says, still nuzzling in Chittery’s embrace. “We know he’s tough, but if we hadn’t…”

“But you did,” I say gently, as if trying to break the death of a relative to a child. “The simple fact is you did. We can’t change that now, but it’s alright, you’re trying to make things right and do him proud. You’re doing good by him.”

“But we-“ Rarity tries to put in, but is cut off when Cypher tugs her into an embrace.

“-are doing your best,” Chittery finishes, still holding Rainbow in her embrace. “What’s done is done. Everyone makes mistakes, everyone let’s stupid stuff get in the way of what should be important in their lives, what matters is how you come back from that, and that you try to make things right. Judging by the way you’re protecting your town, you girls are doing okay there.” There’s a prideful quiver in Chittery’s voice, as if she wants to say something else and has to physically stop herself from letting it out. I don’t mention it, though I do make a mental note of it.

“Thank you,” Pinkie whispers. I smile and nod, only cringing a little when she grabs my hand up in her hooves and blows a snot-filled honk into my palm. “Really, thank you.”

“Let’s get them back to town,” Chittery says. “I didn’t see any Nightmares when I scouted out Canterlot, so they should be good for a break from patrols, if only for a little while.”

Cypher and I nod, releasing our respective charges as Chittery holds them up in her magic, letting the trio embrace as we tromp along through the woods in the direction of Ponyville.

A few minutes in, I make sure the three are out of earshot, then turn to Chittery. “Had the Element-Bearers under surveillance for months, eh?” I ask, slowing us down to a relaxed trot. She just sighs as I shake my head. “And here, I thought changelings were supposed to be good at lying. I’ve seen better performances in Elementary school plays!”

“We have been watching them, though,” she says weakly, her voice strangely quiet. Not quite to Cypher-levels, but not too far away from them.

“But that’s not why you recognized her. Nobody reacts to seeing someone they’ve been spying on like you did: like running into a long-lost cousin on the street,” I reply. She still hasn’t looked up at me. “Okay, what’s really going on with you and the pink supernova? How’d you know all that crap about her?”

“Later,” she insists, her eyes closing. I don’t have to watch her breathing get heavier or sense her emotional aura with my changeling abilities to see the rising pain in her expression. “Just…later, please? Now’s not really a good time to get into it.”

I look over at her, my face holding at neutral. “Princess, with all due respect, it sounds like there is no good time to talk about this.”

She doesn’t reply. I don’t make an effort to speak up. “Later,” she insists after a few moments of uncomfortable silence.

I nod. I’ve had enough big, emotional moments for one day, anyway. I think we could all use a quick break.