5. Now, If We Could Just Get on Topic
Edited by DJ_Neon_Lights, Kudzuhaiku, and TuxOKC.
Breakfast was a dish best served with pancakes, smothered in butter and syrup. Gordon glowered at his helpers as though they had not met up to his standards. The ratio between butter, syrup, and sogginess was all wrong! He had declared thusly, prior to the declaration that the breaking of the fast was underway. The humans, having been awoken by a rather rousing musical number, were both baffled and amused. Where was the music coming from? It was a question that repeated itself in the minds of both adults as they found themselves seated at the dining table. Nervous eyes went from changeling to changeling, each one trying to be pleasant and quiet. Catherine was still yawning. The little girl was exhausted, but she was also hungry.
“Pancakes,” announced Gordon with pride, using his glowing horn to levitate several dishes at once. “Pancakes, crepes, and bacon. Everything will be wonderful. Full bellies can mean minds more receptive and pleasant to deal with.” Throwing one last glare at his kitchen staff (raspberries were thrown back at him with great prejudice), the chef set a plate down in front of each human with practiced ease. “Enjoy!”
He then went back to the kitchen for a cold dish of revenge for the raspberry blowers. He would return his domain to a place of blissful harmony once more! Dirty dishes awaited noling!
Now, having a table lined with the heads of changelings poking up along the edges might have been disconcerting—nay, even disturbing—but there was something of a spark of hope in each and every one of those blue, buggy eyes. There was a sense of anticipation, as if the entirety of the peace process depended upon the taste of bacon and crepes. Bacon universally made everything better.
Frank dared a look at his wife. Beatrice picked up her fork and stared at the plate. It smelled wonderful. “My kitchen?” she asked in near duress as she started to rise from her chair. What startled her was the sound of dishes clattering loudly by the sink. Worry etched her face. It was a completely remodeled kitchen, made to her specifications.
“They’ll clean it all up,” Catherine promised. “I am their queen!” She was already digging into her plate.
“Chew with your mouth closed, honey,” her father said out of habit. Catherine was still learning the fine art of not looking like a slob when eating. A thought popped to life. He smirked. “Is that how a queen would eat?”
Other phrases Daddy liked to say at the table were, ‘don’t talk with your mouth full’, or ‘keep your elbows off the table’, and even his more frequently used ‘bring the food to you, don’t bring your face to the food’. Learning to eat should never be this complicated!
“Is it safe?” Beatrice indicated her plate with her fork.
Frank stared at her plate, then he stared at his own. Catherine was like a school of piranha skeletonizing a cow. The little girl hummed a happy tune through a bulging mouthful of breakfast. “It has to be,” he reasoned, poking at his food with his own fork.
They felt dozens of eyes on them. The anticipation in the air was thicker than the best maple syrup. Breakfast might have been less uncomfortable if there were not eyes staring at them. It was as though the fate of the world depended on how the food tasted. Catherine seemed not to mind. She was halfway through her wolfing.
Frank tried the crepes. His fork cut through the flaky, paper thin pancake. It was smothered in strawberries and topped off with what appeared to be freshly made whipped cream. He stared at the bit on his fork, then at his daughter. With a shrug, he took a bite.
The intake of air from the changelings was audible. One inhaled too much air and became light-headed, toppling over backwards. The resulting thump to the floor led the entire collective to look back in one fluid motion, but they were quick to resume their stares at Frank and Beatrice. The result had more than a little skin crawling creepiness.
Quirking an eyebrow, Frank noted how no effort was being done to help the poor fellow, other than one of the changelings taking the fallen fellow’s place. It was unnerving at how all of these creatures could mirror each other almost perfectly to the point where it was impossible to tell them apart.
“Get on with it!” they all shouted with abrupt suddenness at him.
Startled, the man noted his wife had a tiny, almost imperceptible grin tugging at the corner of her mouth. Beatrice was already into her breakfast. She flicked a finger at him. “Eat. It’s good.”
And like that, all resistance collapsed as the family as a whole fell upon breakfast with increasing vigor. An explosion of flavor assaulted his mouth. One bite followed another. Then another. He chewed slowly, savoring each bite. Soon, all too soon, his plate was empty and he felt sad.
“Well?” Gordon asked in a hopeful voice. He was hovering over Frank’s shoulder. “How was my cooking?” The sudden appearance of the changeling nearly made the man jump out of his skin.
A voice from the kitchen shouted, “Our cooking!”
The changeling chef rolled his eyes. “Noling cares, Bob!”
A female changeling cleared her throat. “I care.” She was sitting on Frank’s left, her chin hovering less than an inch from the tabletop.
“Good for you,” Gordon said as he hissed with irritation. “Point being, Daddy, did you like it?”
The human arched an eyebrow. “Daddy?”
“Yes. We decided you’re our daddy.”
He was not liking where this was going. “Wait. Who’s your daddy?”
“You’re our daddy.” The smiles thrown at him were full of hope.
“Potato!”
“Ni!”
Frank set his fork down. It clattered upon his empty, syrup smeared plate. “What do you mean: I’m your daddy?”
Beatrice snorted, covering her mouth with a hand. “Oh, God, this is hilarious!” Her sides heaved and she wrapped herself with her other arm.
“What’s hilarious, Mommy?” Catherine asked, a picture of innocence.
“Never mind, sweetie. Your daddy is just being silly.” The woman smiled at Gordon, her first smile at any of the changelings that was genuine. “The food was wonderful, Gordon.” She turned towards the kitchen. “And thank you, too!”
A cry came from the kitchen. It was in perfect unison. “We are loved!”
“May we remove the dishes?” came a little whisper in between Beatrice and Frank. They turned to the sound of the voice and saw an adorable, if nervous, changeling flitting her wings. She shifted her weight from one foreleg to the other, flicking her tail and licking her lips in nervous anticipation.
Beatrice cooed, “Oh, you’re so cute!”
Frank deadpanned. “She looks like all the rest of them.” He indicated the other changelings with a careless wave of his hand.
His wife gave him a frown. “Nonsense! This one is different, see? She has hair growing on the top of her head.”
The man leaned over to the changeling. She cowered a little and flinched when he reached a hand out. “May I rub the top of your head?” Frank gave her a gentle smile.
“It’s okay!” Catherine chirped as her dishes were cleared away. “Daddy won’t hurt you! He’s the nicest, bestest daddy in the whole wide world!”
Heartened by her Queen’s declaration, the stubble-headed changeling leaned into Frank’s palm. She was a little scared, but the fear passed as soon as the man’s fingers touched the top of her head. The touch was like magic.
“Wow,” Frank commented with surprise. “It’s really wispy to the touch. Kind of like angel hair, or something. I really can’t describe it. Hon, feel this!” Wonderment spilled from his awe for the sensation at his fingertips. It was not so much hair he was touching, he thought, so much as it was the finest silk ever imagined. “You’re silky!”
“Silky?” the changeling asked, blinking her eyes slowly. She purred and had started to smile from the fingers now scratching her behind an ear. “I want to be called Silky.”
Beatrice let out a squee. “Oh, you are adorable!” Maintaining the smile and tone, she added, “I just hope your friends don't ruin my house.”
“Coffee?” One of the kitchen changelings had appeared without making a sound. He hovered on silent wings with a pair of coffee mugs and a fresh pot. Without waiting for permission, the mugs were set down on the table and filled. Then the coffee wielding changeling disappeared as quickly as he had come.
“Strange morning,” Frank commented as he found himself picking up one of the mugs. “Wake up to strange sounds in Cathy’s room, go to her room, flip the light switch and see all of you guys staring at me. Pass out”—he refused to say ‘faint’—”wake up on the couch, find out my daughter is now Queen of the Bug People.” He took a sip and tried to keep himself collected. Frank was looking at Silky while he spoke. “I have frayed nerves from all of this. I want to scream and run away.”
Silky blinked up at him. The changeling seemed uncomfortable that she was the focus of his voice and his eyes. She did not move because the scratching of his fingers between her ears was divine.
“Speaker, right?” Frank pulled his hand from the changeling and sat back, regarding the male across the table from him. “Why are you here? Why are you so interested in my daughter? What is this power you’re yapping about?”
The changelings hummed the first chorus of a song that explained every—
Frank held up a finger as he interrupted. “Don’t you dare pull a Disney number on us! Just tell me straight. What is going on here? How did you guys get here? How did you appear in my daughter’s bedroom? The window is locked from the inside.”
“I don’t mind their singing,” Beatrice admitted to her husband.
Frank gave her a tired look. “Honey, do you really want an explanation given to you while these guys are tap-dancing on the tables and singing about how they’re supposed to hug their way to happiness, or some Disney crap like that? And where is that music coming from, anyway?” The last question was directed at Speaker.
“The Magic of Music followed us from Equestria,” came the reply. Speaker shrugged helplessly. “It simply happens. The timing can be unorthodox. Music might not happen for long stretches of time. Sometimes we get many songs in a day. It seems as though Equestrian magic bled through the portal. It is a mystery even to us changelings. Mother forbade singing unless the songs were about changelings triumphing over all, or something like that. She enjoyed her rants. Some of them were epic.”
“Magic?” Beatrice peered over her coffee. She seemed about to object, then realized something and closed her mouth. Her troubled face indicated inner conflict as she looked at what seemed to be examples of living magical beings milling around her house and staring at her family.
The music started again.
“No! Stop that!” Frank glared at the changelings. Sad and confused faces returned the glare. “No singing! Talk like normal people! This is a discussion, not a musical!”
Sad changelings were sad. “So, no singing?”
“Crickets sing!”
“Birds sing!”
“What about whales? We should sing like whales!”
“I’m a whale! Aroooo! Aroooo! Aroooo!”
Frank facepalmed and let out a long suffering sigh of frustration. He bemoaned, “Why me?”
“I’m a potato!” Cabbage chanted, then stood completely still, eyes wide.
Beatrice was laughing, poorly containing her mirth behind her hands. Catherine, however, had no compunctions on how funny she thought it was. Her laughter was picked up by the changelings, who were more confused than they were amused.
Speaker hissed at his brothers and sisters loudly. All noise stopped, save for the drop of a pin. The changeling who dropped the pin smiled sheepishly and picked it up.
She quipped, “I was just curious!” before slinking off to hide in a corner somewhere.
“For the sake of our hooman hosts,” Speaker said loudly, making himself as tall as possible. His wings fanned, then buzzed, then settled down along the length of his back. “We must try to fight the musical compulsion and explain things in a way they can understand.”
“You ask the impossible!”
He made his voice a little louder. “We are changelings! We can adapt! We must adapt! We must understand this world and it’s confusing, hypocritical ways! We must stand united in the face of unhealthy fast foods and the hooman desire to communicate through small, plastic devices that slowly eat your soul and sap the intelligence from your brain with stupid little games that require a significant investment of time!”
“What about writers and creative writing?” Came the question at the far end of the living room. “That’s somewhat useful, isn’t it?”
“We’ll not delve into that degenerative dive of hooman scum and villainy!”
“What about poets?” Same changeling.
Speaker narrowed his eyes at him. “We are getting off topic. The topic is magic and how hoomans have basically ignored the fact or even completely forgotten it has always been here. We can feel it, can’t we?”
Changeling heads bobbed up and down in agreement.
An inquisitive question was put forth. “Does this mean we’re not going to talk about writers and their evil ways?”
“We are not,” Speaker replied through gritted teeth. He was beginning to understand Frank’s frustration. It was interesting trying to see a perspective from the view of a creature other than a changeling. He had tried it as a pony, once, and could only think of running away. Why were herds of baby bunnies so terrifying, anyways? The horror!
“The topic is magic. It is everywhere, Mr. Hooman,” Speaker said to Frank as the changelings settled down on haunches. “It surrounds us, penetrates us. It’s in everything. The air, the rocks, the water. Magic is a part of life and without life there can be no magic. It is different in your world, but we can all sense it. As changelings, we are naturally attuned to magic we are familiar with it.”
The man grunted, rolling his eyes and throwing his arms up in disbelief. “Thanks, Yoda!”
Cabbage was still chanting ‘potato’, happy to be lost in his own little world. Perhaps talk of writers had put him in a peculiar frame of mind. Maybe he wanted to be a whale. They made neat noises! He was largely ignored, though one of the females patted him on the back. Cabbage was a well-loved changeling.
Beatrice had recovered from her sudden bout of amusement. “Speaker, what did you mean about Catherine having power?”
“For several weeks, we stayed in the shadows,” Speaker said, casting nervous glances between Beatrice and Frank. “We were at a loss. We had come here, had been told to come here. Everything was new. This world felt so different from ours. Everything. The first time we witnessed the sunrise, we panicked. We thought the sun was stuck in the sky. No immortal was moving it.”
“Okay. I’m with you,” Frank said in a voice that was far from convinced.
“Right,” was the shared sentiment from Speaker. Both males paused in awkward silence, measuring each other. “Shouting match involving words like, ‘I don’t believe you’ and ‘there’s no such thing as magic’ later?”
There was a nod of agreement. “I can wait.”
“Good. Maestro!”
“No singing!”
“But!”
“I said no! It’s distracting!”
Many, many ears were splayed out in dejection. “Fiiiiiine,” all of the changelings said to a ‘ling.
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Heh, another great chapter but the best bit? Was the serendipity of the ad on the page...
users.on.net/~damageinc/Ling%20ling.png
Yes, the story talking so much about music, had an ad for music. Google knows
I smell...pancakes...
Ymmmy...
hmmmm
They didnt run away from Chrissy, something else told them to find Catherine.
They've used magic to change Catherine. (Does this make her the Queen of Blades?)
Silky is the new royal class ling.
If they can give Catherine the hive mind, can they give her shape shifting?
If not will they be able to teach her how find her "hooman magic" and help her learn to use it?
Edit: oh and they've probably been using mind control and memory spells on the human family until they had enough intel to intergrate (hence the references) and/or catherine had changed enough to link to the hive mind.
Reminds me of the old Pirhanina Bytes logo animation. Man, those guys made THE Games.
7127664 I got an ad for Bose wireless headphones. "Music transports you. Return the favor."
This is an awesome story, from the cover art to the perfect delivery of imagery to my mind's eye. Bravo, Scarheart!
I admire Frank's dedication to asking the power question in spite of the delicious and distracting breakfast.
Silky is new temporary best changeling, she's just too cute.
This chapter made me hungry.
And I have just had food not long ago.
Thanks!
I like how Frank and Speaker simply postponed the discussion of disbelief for later.
But yeah, the parents are slowly getting around.
Food solves a lot of problems!
Silky too. Every single changeling should be thankful to her now. Her cuteness saved the moment! Or day. Or more!
Also I dunno if I had a hand in this (probably not, but it's nice to think I am valued somewhere!), but the part where Frank cut the songs short every time was pretty amusing to me. Especially considering my comment last chapter
Admit it, Cabbage is really the main character. He's really the one who will save them all in the end.
Stop that stop that! You're not gonna do a song while I'm here.
As soon as I got to Cabbage chanting 'Potato' over and over, the only thing going through my head was this:
No singing?
I just can't think about anything more than those changelings act like that one xD
*gasp* HOW DARE YOU! :P
THE WORLD MAY NEVER KNOW~!
When I will no more be completely blinded by my laughter, I will get back at you on that.
NONE OF THAT!!
You're not breaking into a song while I'm around!
And instead, the changelings become Wall Street brokers.
Which explains much...
Wait, who told them to go to Earth in the first-
Waiiiiiiit a minute...
pinkie.mylittlefacewhen.com/media/f/img/mlfw1235_Discord_go_on.gif
Yeah, that would explain everything.
To be honest the magical music wasn´t really needed in my opinion, and I don´t really need to laugh because of that. I really don't mind the singing in the show, but mostly in a story, or at least in a more serious story it is usually strange for me if they think of the song moments as something magical.
It is a bit like in those storys where a Human is running across the field and singing about his life because he had a mean conversation or something like that.
He's my favourite Changeling, just to stupid for it's own good and it's not even his fault.
Catherine right now:orig00.deviantart.net/f5de/f/2014/045/7/7/i_am_the_swarm_by_tclover-d76i1wh.jpg
The idea that Equestrians are actually compelled to sing en masse is something I usually only see in works from much earlier years.
Don't worry, we see what you're doing here. Somewhat, at least. It's nice to see amongst the insanity there's more going on.
An inquisitive question was put forth.
“Does this mean we’re not going to talk about writers and their evil ways?”
Dodged a bullet thar .... Jk
But I'm not going to call cabbage cabbage,
he is Dori from now on .....with that lil whale bit he did
He's a very loved changeling ....is it cause he's special..?
chrysalis dropped ' em as a hatchling ....?
This is good.
this just gets better with every chapter. short, silly, perfect for my pony word addiction.
POTATOES!!!
7127832
Caboose. GG, m8yz.
Now I want them to watch Star Wars
Nice to see that Catherine's parents are enjoying their breakfast. I hope this means that they will slowly start accepting the changelings into their home.
Well, except for the singing part.
Yay, they are warming up to the 'lings~
Tiny typo
its
Nice portal reference
7129050 I can't believe I forgot!
Beatrice 180'ed after the food.
Roseluck? is that you?
The Queen Mother should appreciate that, at least
Unless some of the involved parties are pigs. Then things tend to go downhill rather fact
Clever!
They're like a giant stand up comedy troupe, lol.
“...Pass out again...”
Spoilsport
Easy on that fourth wall, pal
Remarks and corrections:
> and it’s confusing, hypocritical ways!
"its"
> Came the question at the far end of the living room.
should have no capital letter; it qualifies as "s/he said" construction.
7174578
You ain't you when hungry I guess.