The
Reasonably Adamant
DOWN WITH
CELESTIA
Newfoal Society!
By Chatoyance
4. We gonna rock down to Thaumatic Avenue
Argent ran his long, sinuous, prehensile tongue up Hot Topic's midnight black belly, all the way up over his chest, and then straight up his neck until he reached the unicorn's strong jaw. Giggling, Topic tried, desperately, to remain still as Argent continued all the way along the underside of his jaw right to his lips. Just under his jaw was ticklish for Hot Topic, and Argent knew that, but it was all part of the lesson. Argent was teaching his new lover how to turn a tickle into intense pleasure. The secret was to let go all defense, all reservation, and to open oneself completely to the sensation, devoid of any hint of feeling threat. The secret was trust.
Topic shivered, almost frightened by how strong the sensation was. This time it had worked, and the ticklish feeling had transformed into something almost like the sort of feeling that Argent was so good at producing for him much lower on his body. Argent pressed his silvery muzzle to Topic's dark face in a soft, deep kiss. "Now... how was that?"
Hot Topic, as a reporter, had researched many things and uncovered many secrets and discovered many wonders both in his life as a human on earth, and in his last four years as an Equestrian. But he had never imagined that it would be possible to change something as fundamental as the squirmy feeling under his jaw into exquisite, mind shattering pleasure. "It was... a revelation. On many levels."
"Oh?" Argent lay back on the floor, resting his head in the crook of Topic's foreleg. "Quirying minds want to know." Topic felt a hoof gently trace circles on the soft hair of his belly, just above his sheath. It was very distracting. Hot Topic was a reporter for the Canterlot Querier, so he could not help but chuckle at the choice of words.
"Well, for one, that really... worked. Just like you said. Wow. Just... Wow." Topic kissed the pale, spiral horn beside his head.
"I... could tell. Go on, I want to hear the entire... report. Before it hits the newsstands. I'm doing fact-checking, you see." Argent grinned, and used his hoof to trace a line across Topic's barrel. The edge of his hoof wall left a visible trail in the ebony coat.
"There's no way I could have ever... been able... to experience that back, well, back before." Topic raised a shining midnight hoof above him and stared at it. For him, seeing his hoof, in place of a hand, grounded him in the reality of what he was, now and forever. It made it not a dream. "I was too uptight back when. Maybe some...body... could have let go like that, trusted... like that... but not me. Not then. But now..."
"Now?" Argent lay his foreleg over his special somepony, and closed his eyes, breathing in the rich, warm scent of stallion.
"Now, with this pony brain of mine... it can happen at all. And it's amazing. With you... I have no fear. None. I mean nothing at all... apparently!" Both laughed at this. Their weekend had been filled with revelations about each other's bodies, all of them exceedingly exciting, and all of them exceedingly happy. "It's kind of silly, you know."
"What is?" Argent shifted to look at his lover, careful as always to avoid giving him an eyeful of horn. Being a unicorn in love with another unicorn required a certain... delicacy.
"When I signed up as a RADWICKINS, I was unhappy. I was upset, and I felt very... wronged, really. When the government started doing the mass conversions... it felt like the stories of old fascist America during the Austerity War, or maybe Germany before it. Being rounded up, put in camps, sprayed down, all of that. Suddenly being dumped in Equestria, hauled in by the cartload, just as the last of the Earth was gobbled up. Pony, that was some time." Topic lowered his hoof and gently stroked Argent's foreleg.
"Why did you wait so long? I was doused by the PER a full year before zero point, but they didn't start the round-ups until the last months. Trying to get the Big Scoop on the end of the world? You must have been in South Africa. You must have seen the whole thing closing in." Argent studied the shape of the dark stallion's head, a shadow against the sunset through the window.
"Sterkstroom, just outside of Queenstown. It was the last place to run, the last part of the planet left. Zero Point was just off the coast, and I couldn't afford to be on one of the ships, not even a freighter. It was mighty crowded - not even the worst favela was like it. Standing room only, all waiting for the end, humans from every continent, every culture, all standing on the last patch of Earth." Topic smiled suddenly. "It was the bravest, stupidest, most amazing thing I've ever seen, or probably ever will see. It was like all the humans were just defying the Barrier to burn them. We were all quiet, somber. And then the scoops arrived."
"I have no words. Whoa." Argent tried to imagine it. "Still, though... why were you there? You were a reporter even as a human, you must have known - probably better than anypony. Why... why just..."
"Stand there, waiting to die? Why didn't I just go to the emergency Bureaus for immediate ponification?"
"Yeah... seriously. Wait - were you HLF? Human Liberation Front or something?" Argent felt a slight chill at the notion.
Topic chuckled, a deep, warm sound. "No, I wasn't one of those crazy muffins. It wasn't that. Not exactly."
"So... tell me! Unless it's... not something you..."
"No. No, it's alright. I'll tell you. Fact was, I was scared. Now I wouldn't have admitted that to you back then, if we'd been together - swirl, I couldn't admit it to myself. But I was seriously frightened. I was more terrified of becoming a pony, than of dying. I was afraid I wouldn't be me, I was afraid it would be a sort of living death. I was afraid I..." Topic closed his eyes. It was hard to say. "I was afraid I wouldn't be... a man anymore. Not hu-man, a man. Male. I couldn't equate being a pony with still being male."
Argent seemed puzzled "Wait, what? Stallion? Hung like one? Big, strong, horsepower in those engines, thundering herd, all of that? Horses are like... for humans horses have been symbolic penises for pretty much ever. Stallions, anyway. How? You have completely lost me here. Besides..." Argent placed his hoof over Topic's sizable sheath "...come on!"
"Yeah, yeah... I know all of that now. Twenty-twenty hindsight." Hot Topic looked down and grinned. "Fear doesn't always think straight, you know? All that registered for me were all the mares and those princesses on the screens everywhere. In my head it was a girly land of girly things. It was everything I wasn't. That's all I saw."
"So that was what was silly, that you thought that way?"
Topic gently shook his head. "No, though my fear was silly, I guess. Nearly got me killed. What's silly is being a RADWICKINS member now. I've finally figured out what my problem really was, and it had nothing to do with Celestia, or being converted or anything. The fact of it is that I was lonely. I wanted... you. I wanted what we are now. I did my job, I had success as a stallion in Canterlot, but... I was just plain lonely. That's all, that's everything. I was lonely. I went to the meetings thinking I was mad at being a pony, but I'm not. I just didn't know how to... how to be a pony WITH another pony. And then, I met you. At the meetings."
"I think we figured it out." Argent laughed.
Hot Topic joined in "Yeah, yeah, I think we did."
Bucket galloped backstage, careful not to trip on the jacks and stage braces supporting the flats. He'd done that a couple of times during rehearsals and had gotten glared at.
The Royal Canterlot Hall, often called the Starswirl Hall or just The Starswirl, after some famous unicorn scholar that had given lectures there hundreds of years ago, was a large and imposing space. It seated hundreds and the whole of it felt heavy with history. The unicorns, like Argent and Chair claimed that they could sense the layered echos of past performances and lectures emanating from the living rock that made up most of the carved hall. Starswirl Hall had been cut directly into the mountain, the dark gray stone interlaced with seams of jewel and crystal. It was not in the least inexpensive to rent.
Over the past eight months, the The Reasonably Adamant Down with Celestia Newfoal Society had grown and grown, the original six founders forming a company of sorts as the whole thing had taken on a life of its own. Royal had naturally assumed the role of star and host, his celebrity had grown to great proportions. Golden Showers had turned the management of his shower installation business over to a colt that had served as his office assistant, he had become the producer and manager of the RADWICKINS ENTERTAINMENT GROUP, keeping an eye on the franchising as the society had expanded. A large staff now took care of countless details under Golden's command.
Bucket had been placed into the position of stage manager early on, mostly because nopony else would take it at the time. It was better than pulling dung carts - barely, he had thought at the beginning - but Bucket found he had a genuine talent for keeping things under control. His saddlebags were filled with his prompt book, blocking sheets, and schedule, among other things, and the only real problem he had was that he wasn't that physically coordinated a pony. His efforts were not celebrated, because he did them so well nopony paid much attention, but he was aware nothing would get done without his efforts.
Bucket's life had changed dramatically. Where before he had reeked of dung and sweat, now he stank of perfumed soaps and even more sweat as he was forced almost every day to charge about making sure that the show could go on. His life was rehearsals, last minute disasters being averted narrowly, and meetings - endless, endless meetings. In many ways he was working far harder as a stage manager than he ever had pulling a dung cart, and even though the pay was exponentially larger, he was often too exhausted to spend the impressive sum he pulled in every week. Bucket ate at the best restaurants in Canterlot now - there was no time to cook his own food - and he lived in a splendid apartment in a beautiful tower overlooking the flat river valley below, though he had no time to actually enjoy the view. The doorpony of his tower, taking pity on him as he dragged his weary body through the doors after a particularly difficult day, asked him why he didn't find something less stressful to do. He could only sigh and repeat the most ancient of answers "What? And give up show biz?"
Bucket had wanted a more glamorous life than pulling a dung cart. Now that he had it, now that he was part of something that was the hit of Equestria, he found himself more than once thinking of those calm, slow, dung-cart days. He hadn't realized just how much free time he had enjoyed back then, and he felt sad that he had not taken more advantage of it all. He loved his new position, he appreciated his new pay and the importance of his responsibilities - and sometimes, he even commanded respect now - but... there were no more picnics out in green fields, eating the natural feast that grew everywhere, for free.
"O-kay... THUNDER ROAD! Where is that consarned feathery... Thunder!" Bucket whipped out one of his many logs and books "Is everything ready with the chariot?"
Thunder Road had been forced to give up half of her regular schedule to be available for shows. It paid better, but sometimes she missed doing the lightning tours. "We're still having problems with the door. It sticks!"
"WHERE'S THE CARPENTER?" Oddly, it wasn't Chair - Chair and Honeybutter were now strictly performers, their singing act splitting time between the RADWICKINS and various concerts and traditional musical theatre. Bucket paced nervously around, his hooves stomping in frustration. "CARPENTER!" it was going to be rough night, it seemed.
Starswirl Hall was packed, scrunching room only, with ponies on pillows and ponies on ponies and ponies in the balconies and half-price pegasai tickets hovering next to the chandeliers. The pegasai set their drinks and popcorn in the Chandelier cages, where it mostly didn't fall on the full-price audience below. The hovering ponies served the show indirectly - their constantly beating wings circulated the air very nicely. For that reason, in addition to half-price tickets, they also got their first popcorn free and three free servings of cider to keep them hydrated.
Now there was no question that the audience was almost entirely native born ponies. There simply weren't enough Newfoals in the Canterlot area to even begin to account for the crowd. If every Newfoal in the region had come, they still would not have filled but a quarter of the seats. Looking out at the filled hall, his nose poking out between folds of curtain, Royal chuckled at the absurdity of it all. Still, it was the most wonderful thing ever for him. He had found his calling - the star-shaped cutie mark that had appeared during their debut in the ancient hall seemed to indicate that.
All the wealthiest and most elite of Canterlot were here - attending the RADWICKINS had become quite the thing. 'Down With Celestia!', why it was scandalous, exciting, daring, and simply all the rage. These Newfoals were quite the entertainers, and the strange Earthling style of the whole thing was positively mesmerizing. It was new, trendy, and oh-so-hip.
Royal looked up at the leftmost Royal Balconies. There she was. Once again. A dark unicorn mare in an embroidered cloak. She, whoever she was, had followed them from early on, always in the background, mysterious. She had been quickly joined by two others, one possibly her maid, and another pink and white unicorn, also in an elaborate cloak. The dark mare had taken to shouting 'HUZZAH!' at sometimes inappropriate moments, only to be counseled by her compatriots. The cider concession was run ragged by them whenever they attended.
On the right side of the hall, in the other Royal Balconies sometimes sat a quiet and pale unicorn mare, tall and dignified. She too wore a splendid cloak, and never ordered anything but tea. Nopony saw her come or go, though the price of her ticket was always paid. Canterlot was a city of mysteries, intrigues and very strange ponies, thought Royal. He pulled his head back and prepared for his entrance.
"MARES AND STALLIONS, FILLIES AND GENTLECOLTS!" Bitsworth, with his rich and dulcet tones had been elevated from butler to announcer, though he still butled... it was in his blood. "THE TIME HAS COME TO RECOGNIZE THE BURDEN OF THE UNDERCLASS, THE UNAPPRECIATED, THOSE DESPERATE EXILES FROM A LOST WORLD, THE NEWFOALS!!!"
Massive cheers erupted as the ancient halls, once home to staid, traditional Equestrian productions reverberated with the shouts and thunder of an audience unlike that of any other age. The human-styled performance had encouraged human-styled responses, and the ponies screamed with excitement and stomped in expectation.
The great velvet curtains parted as the lights dimmed. In the orchestra pit, the fourteen musicians began with a perky drum gambit, rising into the theme song, a terrestrial swing version of the motto. More than half of the audience sang along, at the top of their lungs "To remind us all of the Earth's devastation, To unite all Newfoals within the Equestrian nation..." Saxophones and horns met the violins as the motto reached its conclusion. "...The RADWICKINS gallop toward what's right!"
Bitsworth smiled - it was his motto, after all - and spoke into the Bevelmeiter-powered sound system "THE REASONABLY ADAMANT DOWN WITH CELESTIA NEWFOAL SOCIETY, STARRING ROYAL PAINE WITH HIS GUESTS DJ PON-3, FASHION EXPERT HOITY TOITY, SEXY WONDERBOLT SPITFIRE, AND FEATURING A PERFORMANCE BY EVERYPONY'S FAVORITE MUSICAL GROUP LYRA AND THE FINGERS!!!"
As the music swelled, broke, and reduced to a thrumming drumbeat, a shining red carriage pulled by Thunder Road swooped in and spun slowly down to land on the vast stage. Waving a hoof from inside was Royal, who upon landing tried to open the door. It stuck. He banged on it while the audience roared. Backstage, Bucket threw a fit, but the sound of laughter and applause pulled him out of it - Royal had chosen to slide out of the carriage window ass-end first, landing in a completely undignified lump. It was hilarious! The audience loved it. Bucket threw up his forehooves and shrugged with his ears. Showbiz.
Behind his sleek desk - the old podium had burst into fragments months ago during a particularly hard pounding - Royal straightened his tie, a move that was now an audience favorite. The fashion had caught on, and it was considered the height of funny to tug at one's tie in awkward moments now. He looked uncomfortable, and adjusted his tie a second time. The audience howled. He began yanking at it with both hooves, finally ending up disheveled but content. The audience roared.
Assistants ran to comb his mane and tidy him as he stood up and walked to the front of the stage to begin his monolog.
"Welcome, welcome everyONE!" The prizes for catching him slipping had ended long ago, but the thrill had never stopped. The crowd still tried to see if they could get the hidden 'Everypony' he would carefully slip in. Royal fretted constantly about the proper moment for a good 'everypony' and only his writing team could calm him down. "Have you seen the news lately? Seriously, I mean, NOTHING - on Earth, it would have been 'radioactive contamination kills millions' but here? ICE CREAM TASTES GOOD! PONY SCIENTISTS DISCOVER THE SECRET BEHIND IT ALL - SUGAR AND CREAM!" The native ponies, unable to comprehend entirely, found this stuff hilarious.
"And how about that 'Fancy Pants' huh?" Up in the left Royal Balcony, there was a gasp followed by a HUZZAH! "I see you have heard of the stallion then?" Roaring laughter filled the hall "So, 'Fancy Pants' huh? WHERE DOES THAT COME FROM? I DON'T THINK THAT COLT'S EVER WORN PANTS IN HIS LIFE! Does he even know what pants ARE? SERIOUSLY!" A spotlight panned down to show the eponymous celebrity in the audience, laughing. He stood up briefly, and gave a wave. "And look! NO PANTS!"
The audience howled again, followed by the stomping of hooves in pony applause. Fancy, ever the good sport, sat down, and the spotlight returned to the stage.
Royal fiddled briefly with his collar "Alright, alright, settle down you former apes!" This always got a huge laugh. "What? Should I toss you a banana? Hmmmmm? Are you a.... baboon... who loves... bananas?" Almost nopony knew what a baboon was, primates other than Man had not survived the expansion of Equestria, but the word sounded funny. "Maybe you'd like a banana... ON THE MOOOOOONNNN!!!!" The crowd loved this bit, it had become a regular gag.
"And speaking of THE ALMIGHTY CELESTIA..." Oohs and shudders filled the crowd as the devilish delight of mocking the princess herself both frightened and thrilled them "...what other things has she put on the moon... hmmm... let's see... HER SISTER PERHAPS?" Nervous screams of laughter burst forth. Mixed with them was a surprisingly slurred HUZZAH!!! from the upper left Royal Balcony, along with a single hoof hammering like a judge.
"What a GREAT princess there, am I right? She can raise the very SUN, construct all of Equestria out of the chaos of Discord, but she forgets where she put her sister for ONE THOUSAND YEARS!" Amidst the laughs was the sound of some pony choking on cider from somewhere up in the Royal Balconies.
"DOWD WIF SSSELEFSFIA! HUZZAHHH!" screamed a well-cidered mare from above. The crowd howled at this naked sacrilege - it was what they had come to see.
"WHOA!!!! Look out! WE'RE IN TROUBLE NOWWW!" Royal pretended he was filled with terror, and fiddled with his collar and tie like a madpony. "But seriously folks, it's all in good fun, right? It's not like our sweet and beloved princess of the sun INVADED OUR MUFFIN PLANET!" a gasp of shock followed by nervous cackles washed around the hall like a wave. Royal waited a few beats before continuing.
"Well every...ONE, we have a great show for you tonight. Canterlot DJ TO THE STARS PON-3!"
Massive applause followed.
"We'll hear about the latest fashions from fashion expert HOITY TOITY!"
Polite applause rippled around the hall.
"A pegasus I'm sure everypony would like to get private flying lessons from, SPITFIRE!!!"
Thunderous stomping sounded forth.
"AND SPECIAL MUSICAL GUEST... wait for it... I said wait for it... LYRA AND THE FINGERS!!!"
Insane screams of ecstatic joy were drowned out by a stamping of hooves that threatened to bring Canterlot Castle and the entire mountain down on their collective polls. Lyra's new record, "New World New Foals" was at the top of the charts. All of her bandmates were Newfoals from earth, and getting her had been a fantastic decision on the part of Golden. It couldn't be more perfect. This was going to be a great show.
"You know, we've permanently changed Equestrian culture! Think about it!" Royal was sitting next to Chair as the makeup crew cleaned them up to go home. Because of the nature of the product needed for a species with a coat, it was a necessary task. "All the boffins were terrified that nothing of Earth would survive. All the electronics all the technology... but none of that matters. We have magic in Equestria - computers and motorcycles are worse than useless in a universe like this. Besides, if the best humanity had to show for itself was a pile of junk, what was the point even if Equestria hadn't shown up?"
Some of the blush on his cheek wouldn't come out of the hairs. The artists went to get the special cream. "Seriously, Chair, look at what DID survive! I say it's the best of humanity. Our music survived! Our band is playing jazz, swing, and thanks to Lyra, rock and roll! Those things survived because they were in US! We couldn't bring stuff into Equestria, but... what was good about humanity wasn't stuff!"
"Movies made it, at least old ones from the museums, on celluloid. And records, vinyl got through the Barrier." The artist working on Chair asked him to tilt his head back so she could get under his chin. He needed lightening there, or his jaw looked too large on stage.
"That's not stuff! Well, it IS stuff, in that film is stuff and vinyl is stuff, but... the stuff isn't the important part." Royal's makeup artist was back, busily applying cheek cream. "The important part of either of those is the music and the film itself, the movies themselves. The media doesn't matter, the substrate doesn't matter, what matters is the information, the pattern, the art!"
"The records don't sound quite the same, you know. And the movies look strange because of the way light works in Equestria. It's kind of the same, but it's not exactly the same." Chair had to shift on his pillow, his tail was trapped.
"So? So what? So 'Spike Jones and the City Slickers' or 'Huey Lewis and the News' sound more like ponies than humans somehow, or the colors in 'Ghostbusters' aren't exactly the way your human eyes saw them. Seriously, who gives a muffin? The essence is still there. The meaning is still there, even if some things are different. And the same is true of our shows here... we may be ponies, but we are keeping the spirit of the best of Man alive through music, and comedy and... and.. song." With the last, Royal nodded at his friend Chair. Chair could not have imagined, nine months ago, that he would end up not making furniture, but performing with his wife doing ballads and duets from old Earth.
"You know..." Chair stood up, his coat finally free of theater makeup "...it's like magic. Our success, I mean. I guess Equestria really is a land of magic - we could never have had this on Earth. Not a hope. But here... it's almost like magic!"
"It is magic, my little ponies."
Chair, Royal, and the makeup crew instinctively fell to the floor in clumsy bows. It was Celestia, ruler of all Equestria, goddess of the sun, princess of their universe, and she was backstage.
And then Shit meet Fan and the most beautiful relationship of all time began.
P.s. come visit us IRC dwellers chay
Ok seriously, we need to get a bunch of Brony music guys together into a band and call them Lyra and the Fingers, because that is too awesome a band name to not be used in reality.
uh oh.. someone got busted.
I am impressed with this. Your comedy muscles must have gotten some good exercise with that last story. It reminds me of why I enjoyed reading your work originally. Lighthearted and about making your place in a changing world.
657370
I am utterly honored that the author of Dames of the Tea Table would be here. I would recommend everypony go read Gabriel's works right now. It's OK. I'll wait.
Wow, great huh? Now you know who I am referring to with regard to the dark unicorn in the embroidered Cloak, her lime green maid-like companion, and the pale white and pink friend also in a cloak. I wonder why Fancy Pants didn't bring his usual plus one? Hmmm... maybe he was afraid of offending her?
Yes, my favored author, this was absolutely a tip of the old Borsalino to you, very specifically. That you would be here to see it, only makes me so very, very glad.
Huey Lewis and the News and Ghostbusters? I thought this version of Celestia didn't allow any of that icky human culture through?
...and they said you couldn't do comedy. pfah!
The reveal with Celestia was a mite weak, but curses, a cliffhanger!
660120 Celestia isn't opposed to Earth Culture. Artistic, Musical, non violent forms of entertainment are certainly not censored. Why folk keep thinking that Celestia would throw the baby out with the bathwater is beyond me, the scope isn't wide based. A very specific, very focused thing was changed. Most who underwent that change are HAPPY about it. It's been argued that such happiness is fake, artificial, and too saccharin - imposed upon them against their nature and against their will. But isn't that what happens in the Heaven mythos of most cultures? I mean, when Heaven is reached, will there be violence? Fighting? Anger? Complaints? No....why? Well the enforced behavior there is (usually) constant praise of the Deity that created it....talk about monotony.
"All sane people hate noise; yet they have tranquilly accepted this kind of heaven -- without thinking, without reflection, without examination -- and they actually want to go to it!" *
* paraphrased from Letters From The Earth by Mark Twain
660395
This version of Celestia shows that she might indeed just do that, and as for those undergoing the change are mindwiped and from what I've seen, somehow linked with Celestia in order to force them to be happy, and then you got the people who are forcefully converted by the PER who again are mindwiped so they're forced to be happy...
How Ralph and those other HLF members managed to counter that in the other story is beyond me, but not like it matters since they died.
658906
First, for some reason it has you down as replying to someone other than me while you quote me and I get an email.
Second, your comment is the only place that second quote appears. I didn't read this. I also don't believe I was bashing Chatoyance. I actually think she's a brilliant writer. I just don't think her style of writing is for me.
660649 My apologies. Your comments seemed to be very negative, and as I stated - if her writing style isn't for you, then just don't read it.
I get very protective of those I love, most especially Chatoyance. I have seen her get attacked too many times, maybe I've developed a chip on my shoulder.
If I misinterpreted and leaped to an inaccurate conclusion of your intent based on the limitations of a format in which tone cannot be adequately conveyed (most of the time), then again, I offer my apologies.
I still think, though, in the spirit of Equestria itself, for which this site was originally created - Friendship and kindness being the over-ruling tone and all - the "If you can't say anything nice" [or even constructive] comment should prevail. Perhaps refraining from comment would be the better part of valor.
Your comment doesn't give constructive criticism in any way that I can see. Your opinion is expressed, yes, clearly so. And you've certainly every right to that opinion. We all have authors/authoresses we like who don't always manage to please us with every work they create.
Having the ability to express your views is one of the advantages of this forum, and of the internet in general. That we can do so, in a moment, and with a certain degree of anonymity, can sometimes move us to do so without stopping to think of the impact our words might have on those with whom we're trying to communicate.
There are people behind these avatars. Living beings with feelings that can be hurt. I have seem Chatoyance hurt, it's not something I want happening again - hence my defensiveness. Perhaps I reacted from a gut level impulse without forethought, here, myself. It happens to the best of us and despite our own best efforts at times.
All I'm really asking is for you to try to convey more of the above mentioned respect for the perceived brilliance you decry than to dwell on the negatives or disappointments. After all, something keeps you coming back to read more, even despite yourself.
Something moved you enough that you felt the impetuous to bother posting a response, at all - many don't bother with the latter even if they read the stories. You gave some of your time and energy to communicating with an author of a work, a thing that is more and more accessible these days. (I can remember the author of a book having to be sent any mail through an agent, publishing house, or other third party - and the chance that they would ever actually see it themselves was lean).
When you share of your time and energy, have the words you say reflect what you mean - and there are ways of saying even negative things with more kindness than I've thus far encountered in your posts here.
Thank You. Aedina
P.S. As for the posting and notification problems you are having in my replies to you - I haven't a clue as to how/why they're happening or how to stop them.
660443 Alright, I can see your point of view on this. This version of Celestia is a little harsher than some of Her other incarnations. But so far She's shown mercy, tolerance, and kindness even to those who've crossed Her, when circumstances allowed Her to be lenient or the perpetrator unwitting or unwilling of their offense. Anything that can hurt Her ponies (and yes, She sees them as HER ponies, the way most sovereigns throughout the ages have seen their subjects) is not to be allowed. If no threat is imposed, at all, and no threat likely to arise, ever - then She will at least do her best to ignore it and let it go, if not give it Her blessing.
Wait, wasn't this group formed for legitimate grievances about forced ponification that the newfoals actually had? It seems like they've lost sight of that and are now given to putting on some kind of weird minstrel show for the native Equestrians. At first it seemed like they were upset but couldn't express it. Now it seems like they aren't really upset, they just feel as though they should be and are playing it for laughs. I know, I know, it ends in happiness and friendships and ice cream, but there's still a tragic subtext throughout the entire TCB setting, even when one is shooting for lightheartedness.
I'm also curious about your take on this last bit of Earth left. Given the rough location of the Zero Point, as you put it, that would mean the origin point of the Barrier in your universe is a few hundred miles NNE of Hawaii. Were the events of South Africa ever explored in detail in a prior story of yours? I don't understand how Hot Topic was standing shoulder-to-shoulder with other humans and then suddenly he was a pony in Equestria. Something about scoops? I'm not getting it.
661040
Mass Emergency Conversions. It was mentioned in previous chapters, and in other stories by me. At the very end, what is left of the Worldgovernment panics and decides to forcibly rescue the last humans crowding together on the tip of South Africa. In the very first chapter of this story I first alluded to it. They just scoop people up in big vehicles and spray them down in order to prevent a mass burning of the remnants of humanity by the encroaching Barrier.
662824
So in the end they weren't even allowed their choice to die? The highest level of human authority, in the eleventh hour, adopts the tactics of the PER whole-hog? Even the most live-and-let-live bone in my body is saying "damn, that ain't right."
Did Celestia know of this beforehand? Actually, instead of bombarding you with questions I guess I should just ask for you to direct me to chapters in your other stories which outline the events of South Africa. I'm really interested in this, and I must have totally missed it on my first read-throughs.
662979
I'm only just dealing with South Africa in this story, Defoloce. It's my first stab at it. Oh, It's been in my head the moment I first thought of where Equestria would expand from, what the other point on the globe would have to be. I have mentioned the government doing early Mass Conversion Ssweeps in the Northamerizone in other stories - that is how the eponymous 'Teacup' from Teacup Down On The Farm enters the story, for example. As each zone meets it's last moments, the local branches of the Worldgovernment panic, and do Mass Conversions. However, the reason why is special.
You see, when I've made fuss about how my stories are ANYTHING but misanthropic, I mean it, and I have gone into that whole hog. My future humanity really does care about people, unlike the real world. In my future, the elite of the world, living like gods, still actually acknowledge kinship with the working classes, unlike the real world today. That is why they feed and water all of humanity, even though they are not forced to, unlike today, in the real world, where most humans go hungry most of the time. My future humans are fantasy humans, noble, kind at the root, even the most greedy of them.
Because of this, unlike our real world today, my future humans simply cannot sit and watch hundreds of thousands of people just... die horribly. My future is one where standing in front of a bulldozer would actually stop the driver from just killing you. In my future, they don't let the third world - the majority of humanity - starve and die like flies. So they can't just let the Barrier burn humans alive and kill them with thaumatic radiation. Those too stupid, or too righteous, or too whatever to save themselves, are saved against their will, in much the same way that a man overboard will be rescued from drowning, even if he is too drunk, or insane to save himself. That is their thinking in my future world of More Noble Humanity. They actually value life, deeply, truly value life.
I know this is a fantasy. If I wrote my CB stories how I truly think Man and government would work, countless billions would just burn in thaumatic desolation. The news would be forcibly censored to prevent the true scope of the horror. Billions upon billions would meet their end flash-fried by the Barrier rolling over them, because they are too poor to be able to even afford the transportation to run away. Imagine millions in a given area, walking, limping, running from the Barrier, falling and being burned to crisps, all while the rich elite sit on Ark-Ships out at sea, partying before finally converting to live in mansions in Equestria (part of their deal with Celestia to allow anyone to be saved at all)
That was too dark, and most readers, I reason, would be too ignorant of history or current events in the world to accept that kind of writing. So I deliberately, consciously upped the ethical stats of the human race, especially of the upper 0.001 who rule, who truly rule (not figureheads like politicians) such that we have a world that is unreasonably kind to the poor. A fantasy world, very unlike today. A world where every human life is actually considered -for real- some shade of sacred. That is also why there is no war at all anymore in my CB future.
So that is the reason for the scoops - for the big vehicles scooping up the last holdout humans and forcibly just spraying or gassing them into ponydom, to prevent their little lives from being snuffed out. It is utterly unthinkable in the real world, unless some political force demanded the appearance of 'caring' - scoops would cost resources and wealth and effort that the rulers would see no point to. They would just go - "let the idiots die, it's what they want anyway, fuck'em."
No, in my fanciful tales, the wealthy elite still see humanity as something more than just the slave subspecies that exists for them to use. In MY world, Dick Cheney and Henry Kissinger never called the majority of humanity 'useless eaters'. My CB universe is one where Man is just a little bit more concerned with humanity as a whole, and individual human lives. My humans are better than reality, in my stories.
Also, it makes for drama - without the Mass Emergency Conversions, you can't have that many Newfoals converted against their will - the PER isn't that good at what they do. Not by a long shot. So to make up for that, I let the conscience of the Worldgovernment elite (conscience! As if!) take up the slack.
That's the scoop, on the scoops.
As for Celestia - she is all powerful, omnibenevolent, but NOT omniscient. She would not have been able to imagine any creature failing to take her gift once all was known. She had no concept that the majority of our planet was (as it is now) desperately, crushingly impoverished. She could not know that we have arranged things that way, and allow that to happen. That would be unthinkable to her. So, we can imagine her horror and shock, once the universes were in collision, to find that billions - even in my better world - would end up dying from her actions.
Then again, with her immortal view, she would rationalize it as a mercy, in the end. Remember that in my stories, I clearly admit that without magic, there can be no gods, no souls, and no afterlife. Just the endless oblivion of being a chemical machine, of being meat.
My stories do not grant the cosmos of Mundis enough magic to permit spirits to truly exist - much less wizards, unicorns, elves or the Tooth Fairy and Santa. In Celestia's observation, every converted sapient is one less lost forever to the dark. That was her promise to the horrified Willelmus of England, 800 years in our past.
My Celestia always keeps her promises. Always.
662979 It always saddens me when readers don't understand where Chatoyance comes from. It saddens me, too, when I have to admit that her future human world, as dark as it is, is as realistic as it is.
It saddens me when otherwise intelligent types rant and rage about it. I'd tell it to Chatoyance, but these are her stories, so instead I have to say it to the readers: these are just stories, you really should just relax. If it makes you angry, then just... switch it off. Go read something else. Part of why I write silly, soft, sweet fluff is because I write to escape. It cheapens my stories, to be honest, when I don't take them seriously. Then again, I don't see why I should take anything too seriously, least of all myself.
But those nebulous readers, the confused and angry, I don't understand why they do. This story is silly as well as being a gentle chide to those who look at heaven through this strange pony-shaped lense and think it horriffic. Those same people are more than likely the types to sit in a church every sunday and pledge undying obedience to a god which drowned the world without remorse.
It makes me sad, and I'm a bystander. It makes me want to quit writing, ever again, and I'm only an observer.
If you want to get angry, go get angry about the Syrian government shelling civilians, or the government's thugs beheading, raping and murdering women and children, leaving their bodies to bloat in the sun. Go get angry about landmines that vaporize legs, or rubbish pits that poison the young as they fish through filth for scraps to sell. Go get angry about the sweatshops, where the workers suicide or get brutally beaten up, imprisoned or just plain disappeared when they protest for an increase in their meat ration.
There are a million REAL reasons to get angry at things in this world, don't get angry at a silly story, or the person behind it. You're spoiling it for me, and I'm selfish enough to get pissed about that.
663560
To be honest, I wouldn't call this a revolution. As Defoloce pointed out, the so called revolutionist seem more intent on now putting on shows for the Equestrians instead of revolting.
663167
First off, I want you to know I'm flattered that you felt my question deserved such an in-depth response. That must have taken a bit of consideration—if not time—to put together, and I thank you. You explained a lot about how the Chatoverse works, using the Real World™ as a point of reference, but in your examples, there are people who want to get ponified but are prevented from doing so. The South African situation, however, is full of people who chose to die and are prevented from doing that. The motivation behind their choice matters little—whether they were vehemently anti-pony, didn't find Equestria appealing, or simply had no desire to give up their life as a human, the fact stands that, from the very beginning, the choice to convert is an utter illusion. It was gonna happen anyway. It's the very definition of paternalism, and benevolent dictators are dictators still. But that's the way it is in your stories, I get that. That's how it goes down. If you in the Chatoverse, you gettin' hooves. Also eventually ice cream.
I've thought about why this topic in particular is so interesting for me, and when I looked back on the two stories I'd written for TCB, I noticed they both had humans who chose to die on their own terms, even in the face of suggested or forced ponification. I realized then that it's at the core of what drew me to TCB in the first place. Who would choose death over ponification? Does it matter who, or why, or under what circumstances? The important thing is that the choice is there, and it's a real one. Let's not forget that, in the original story, the choice wasn't between pony or death. It really was between going pony or staying human. That doesn't generate much tension on its own, though, so I played with the idea of ponies forcing humans to convert. It was my version of the expanding-Barrier idea which came shortly after.
Between South Africa and the events of Ten Minutes Aftermath, I can see that universal salvation is a big theme in your stories (even though the question of what constitutes "salvation" is begged). I took elements of that and put them into Railroad, most specifically the Aftermath idea that death is not a choice in itself: all must stand before Celestia and say "yes" or "no" to her face. That's about as far as I was willing to take it. I can think of few ways of stating "I don't want to be a pony" stronger than standing defiantly in front of the Barrier and letting it atomize you. When these same people come out the other side as a pony, however, all of their fundamental malcontent is whitewashed away. Nobody is accountable for anything that happened, and nobody cares. Everyone is saved, even if they were saved against their will. Even the basic dignity of saying "no" and having that choice respected was denied them. Both Celestia and the Worldgov people are spared the guilt. Time for ice cream.
663771
I remember saying in another comment for some other story that an effective story makes you feel things, even if the feelings you're getting are not fun to have. Hell, the entire Newbery Medal system seems designed around finding books that make kids sad and then putting a shiny circle on the cover. They do that because sometimes you'll feel sad, or angry, or helpless, and that's a part of growing up. We can't feel content all of the time; we have to question and analyze our own feelings, how certain things make us feel and why we feel that way about them. Chatoyance's stories bring my opinions to the surface and makes me want to share them with the author, and I can think of no better praise for a writer than that.
The fact that I have questions and am interested in Chatoyance's stories should be enough to separate me from the people who just bang out "misanthopy genocide grrrraaaah" into the comment box over and over. I lay out my concerns to Chatoyance and she takes the time to reply to them, and I like to think it's because she cares about how her stories are being taken and what people think of them. I have questions not because I'm trying to catch her in some kind of logical checkmate, but because I really am interested in hearing the thoughts behind the choices she makes in laying out her stories. If I just plain can't stand what I'm reading, then I certainly do stop, and that's happened plenty of times, believe me.
I'm not angry at the story for existing and I'm not angry at Chatoyance for writing it. I was confused, yes, but that falls more on me than on the story. With Chatoyance's explanation I see that I jumped the gun in asking about South Africa, but with the huge back library of her stories I assumed that I had missed or forgotten something. Again, I realize that this is meant to be a lighter story, but that doesn't mean that I as a reader am required to ignore any heavier questions it raises for me. Right now the best I can do is try and express how I'm perceiving what's being set out before me and how I'm interpreting the events. I do this to help put Chatoyance in the best position possible to address my thoughts. The discussion I'm having isn't really so much to do with this specific story as it does with the Chatoverse at large.
664681
As far as I am concerned Railroad takes place in the same cosmos I write about. I thought that was a fantastic story. In my cosmos of 19 billion humans, only 8 billion make it to Equestria, when all is said and done. It's just too big of a task. There is room for every story, after a fashion.
664747 I'm sorry too, I replied to you about something you're not doing. Kind of silly of me.
I probably should avoid saying this, but I hope they like bananas now. Seriously I am enjoying this story so far. Too bad bucket still can't catch a break even with his new position.
> Topic felt a hoof gently trace circles on the soft hair of his belly, just above his sheath.
> Rated 'Everyone'
Not that I mind it, of course
"Lyra and the Fingers." Simply awesome.
Great chapter, by the way!
My word... even the ones who accuse you of being the vanguard of dictators and monsters are polite.
You know how to attract only the best.
Though their objection seems somewhat confused: Suicide is as easy as stabbing yourself in the neck with a fork. If they really wanted to die, they would have done so. If their destrudo was so weak they couldn't just give themselves an impromptu cutlery tracheotomy then forced conversion was the least of their worries. In othe words, you're all good, Chatoyance.
Oh my, chatoyance. This-this is just awesome! I was wondering where you were planning on taking this. Now I know! This is appealing to my sense of noir. I'm a huge film noir and radio drama fan. thanks Chatoyance!
Are you trying to kill me!? I am actually scared to continue now out of fear I might die of laugher XD
This is just becoming silly in all the best possible ways. A real page turner! Er... page... downer?
Maybe you'd like a banana... ON THE MOOOOOONNNN!!!!
CAN SOMEBODY TELL ME WHERE THATS FROM?
The Bubble would pretty much rise from the ground in South Africa.
ON THE MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOON!
On a completely unrelated note, my school recently had vaccinations. We have another one next term. If only next term the needle could be filled with sparkling purple fluid...
And it is chapters like this that keep me from playing nothing but Minecraft and M2TW and watching television. When we had the mocking stuff going on, I was reading it all in Heimskr's voice (Talos worshipper in Skrim).
And let me guess... that "Huzah" pony is a disgusied Luna, and one of the others is Celestia... and the third (t'was a third, right?) maybe Cadance or somepony? I dunno, but Chatoyance's writings always brightens my mood... day or night.
Well, bucking duh! Did you really think she wouldn't know about it if it's the talk of Equestria? Even if her sister hadn't dragged her to the performance?