Chaos I Am
I Am Chaos
by Feather Sigil
There’s this green unicorn, who I’ll call Greenie. I know her real name—knew everything about her the moment I first saw her—but don’t care to use it. We’ve been seeing each other for about fifteen seconds now—or maybe fifteen minutes, either way. She has no idea I’m the tree she’s sitting under while she’s writing her poetry—fitting for a pony with a quill for a cutie mark.
I can’t deny—I wish I had a cutie mark. Who wouldn’t want one? The ponies never have to ask themselves ‘Why am I here?’; they’ll get the answer eventually and it will always be satisfying. They never have to fear living a boring, meaningless life where they sleepwalk through each day and spend each sleepless night trying to figure out where it all went wrong just to keep themselves from breaking down in the face of sheer futility. Nope, they’re born guaranteed to get purpose—and talent!—on a silver platter, based on whatever they enjoy doing the most.
‘Some people just have all the luck’ doesn’t even begin to apply here. Seriously, the ponies have it made compared to the other species! No one could ask for more than that, they just couldn’t.
Right?
Wrong!
Oh, how could you, you monster?! How could you make an entire city bury their heads in the ground?! The horror! The audacity! Don’t you know that we ponies just! Can’t! Deal with even a little hardship?! It’s just too much stress! We need to live in a perfect world with rainbows and singing and butterflies, where nothing bad ever happens!
Talk about arrogance! At least they can choose how to deal with it!
At least they can choose!
I never had any choice. My purpose was chosen for me right from the beginning. I showed up one day—created by the discord between the three pony tribes—and started doing what I exist to do.
By the way, thanks a lot moms and dads! It’s just swell to be the odd kid out, the only one who never got to choose his destiny! No, really, I can’t thank you enough!
I exist to do one thing and one thing only: wreak glorious chaos, whether it takes the form of a chocolate-crammed cotton candy cloud (classic!) or corrupting common cognitive concepts creatures cherish. Well, I don’t just exist to wreak chaos—I am chaos! I’m referred to by a different name, but... what’s that line about a rose?
Everything I am is chaos—in fact, there is no ‘I’. This handsome body expresses chaos. Its deeds are all nothing more than the spreading of chaos. My thoughts, if they don’t serve the whims of chaos, are merely these empty aimless contemplations. All of which are a complete waste of time because chaos doesn’t need me to think.
My actions are just as pointless. I am chaos—a physical manifestation of something that already exists and existed before I did. Greenie just got up and walked away, tripping over a rock; I’m exactly the same as that event, or a storm the pegasi lose control of. We’re all different incarnations of chaos, which is, fortunately, everywhere.
That makes me a drop of water in the ocean. Completely redundant.
What difference does it make if I turn some mountains upside-down or cause a few ponies to lose faith in their morals? Chaos doesn’t care what form it takes. I might as well be an event, like Greenie tripping over the rock: impacting the world for only a brief moment and forgotten afterwards. Actually, I think I’d like being an event. Then I wouldn’t have to think, or live with the knowledge that my every thought and deed is completely worthless.
‘Cause I know exactly how happy that makes me!
The extent of what I can do that these mortals cannot is unfathomable and yet each of them, in their short lives, can and will do more than I could ever dream. Not that I could dream, but whatever: just look at Greenie. She’s a writer—I can’t do that. She might have foals someday—hah, maybe not once I’m done with her, but still—I can’t do that.
Oh, sure, they are but blinks of the cosmic eye, nothing they do in their lives will matter in the grand scheme of things, yadda yadda yadda who cares? Hey, if you’re listening, whoever made the grand scheme? You’re an unimaginative loser! Billions of lives across billions of years amounting to mere dust in the void? I can sneeze better realities than this!
Forget you and forget the grand scheme! If nothing else, their lives can matter in the here and now, and possibly even for some time after they die depending on their accomplishments. That’s much more than can be said for me. Whether I live for the next million minutes or million millennia I won’t matter for even...
Why am I thinking about this, anyway? What’s the point? Greenie, I hope you like playing with hornets, because guess what? You didn’t write words on that parchment, you wrote hornets!
Chaos is a wonderful, wonderful thing!
So very true... I hope. Or I would, if I could hope or believe in anything. Truth is, I have no idea. Maybe it isn’t a wonderful thing. Nothing is good or bad unless we think it is, but chaos will always be a wonderful thing to me; I’m incapable of thinking otherwise. It’s part of my nature, my very existence.
Is there a reason not to make hornets explode into boiling tea?
At least it’s a positive feeling.
She’s screaming now, calling for help. I could do something about it. I can seize control of the sun and the moon from Little Miss Idealism and her uptight sister, so it’s well within my power to heal this mare’s wounds and send her home. All it takes is a thought... buuuuuuuuut my nature betrays me.
Didn’t see that coming!
Now she’s screaming in Zebra, rather than Equestrian. Which is pretty funny, but look at that! That is how much of a waste I am! I should be able to be ashamed of myself!
I can think.
I can speak.
I can learn.
I can bend reality to my whims.
I can do anything—literally!
I’m omnipotent!
Yet for all my power, for all the things I can do, I will do only one thing: spread chaos. It’s quite ironic, since I’m the most orderly being there is. Lack of restraint is the definition of freedom and chaos, yet I, of all creatures, have no freedom whatsoever. Everything I do brings chaos: endless iterations of the same act, differing only in terms of scale. I can’t stop myself, but I don’t want to. I enjoy what I do.
How could I not? Come on, she’s screaming for help in a language she doesn’t even know! She’s trying to rhyme! Her mind must be as muddled as that of a drunken stallion bucking himself in the face right now! She has red polka dots all over her coat and she’s writhing in the grass like a spastic earthworm! It’s hilarious!
It’s so hilarious, it is even if it’s not! I’d have done it even if it was boring, and I’d have thought it was funny even if I hadn’t done it! There’s no difference between funny and boring! The very concepts don’t exist! It’s all chaos, it’s all fun, it’s all laughter and smiles for me all day long—and that is what makes it a wonderful, wonderful thing!
I.
Am.
Trapped.
My mind and body think and do things while I sit back and enjoy it all because I have to. These leftover thoughts, whatever they are, are just like Greenie here: rolling around in my mind, trying to find some table scraps of meaning that chaos might throw their way. No such thing. I can’t even do something as simple as speak to her. I can’t! Not unless I’m going to make her life a little more chaotic.
Thought experiment!
The idea of speaking to her is in my mind. I’m aware of it. I’m thinking it right now: speak to her.
Speak to her.
Speak to her.
Speak to her.
Nothing.
I even put my face right next to hers.
My lips never twitched.
Does it matter, though? So I’m not in complete control of myself. Neither are they! They need to eat, breathe and sleep all the time or else they’ll die. The sun and moon have to keep spinning over us or everything will die. Then there are things like sickness, having a social life—really, who in this world is truly in control of themselves, hm? And again, so what? Control is overrated! If you need to control things—need to make them conform to your wishes—you’re obviously not having enough fun with them. I don’t need to control anything ‘cause I never stop having fun!
Matter of fact, that’s the most liberating thing in the world! I don’t need to eat, breathe or sleep. I have no need for sunlight. Can’t get sick. Can’t feel sad. Can’t feel remorse. Can’t feel pain. Can’t be burdened by friendship—can’t wish for friendship, come to think of it! Don’t need to put effort into anything ‘cause I don’t do anything! It’s automatic! It doesn’t matter! Nothing matters! I’m free from everything, including freedom!
Now come here, Greenie! Stop crying, we’re going to have some fun!
I’ve always liked the feeling of ponies squirming in my hands, for some reason.
Hah! The brave little warrior, throwing a rock at me! Please, by all means try to kill me! Throw more rocks! Cast any spell you can think of! I’ll even give you a head start.
Head start, get it?
Hmph. I thought it was good...
Could I actually be jealous of a rock? I think so. That rock—any object, really—has more potential than me despite being utterly incapable of thought or action. In little more than two minutes that rock has served the interests of both chaos and of Greenie. Two functions right there, twice as much as I’ll ever have and that’s just scratching the surface. The rock could weigh something down, or prop something up, or be sculpted into something—all that and so much more. I, on the other hand... well, at least no one can ever say I don’t practice what I preach.
To think I once ruled this entire planet, even though I’m less than an object. No wonder no one liked me—I don’t think it’s possible to be more pathetic than that.
Then again...
A little chaos can serve a function, like making someone other than me laugh. I could amuse Greenie, maybe get her to see me as something other than a monster, but that’s never going to happen. My particular method of spreading chaos involves introducing it to its fullest extent, corrupting the natural states of things into forms they were never meant to take. If there’s one thing Wet Blanket and Indoor Voice have yet to understand, it’s that the world needs some order and some chaos.
Order provides the structure that allows for tangibility, from which life obtains capability.
Chaos provides the unpredictability of choice, from which life obtains meaning.
Introduce too much order and you have to remove all freedom, all thought—life ceases to matter.
Introduce too much chaos, as I do, and you
have a mountain of ice cream made from
liquid ponies with dragon wings, or
complete madness—everything
just falls apart and, again,
life ceases to matter.
Great.
That means my actions are doubly pointless, for even in their redundancy they can only lead to a single empty end and they will never change.
After all...
I am chaos. I can’t be anything else.
So what’s the point of me, then? I exist to spread chaos, but why do I exist to spread chaos? Why did I have to show up? Why have an unnecessary intelligence and capacity for emotion, neither of which I can fully control? Why have a body? Why have this consciousness locked within me, thinking these meaningless thoughts? I’m just a... I’m a costume! A sock puppet for chaos! Makes sense, right? I’m a physical representation of chaos; cover a pony with a white sheet and suddenly he’s a ghost.
It never had to be me. I never wanted this. What did I do to deserve this existence—to deserve being a prisoner in my own being? What did everyone else do to deserve free will that I didn’t?
What did you do?
Yes, you.
You don’t deserve free will, you just happened to get it. In fact, everything in your life is nothing more than an accident. Another me might appear behind you a few seconds from now. You could burst into flames any moment. Whether you deserve it or not is irrelevant.
I’ll bet you think your life has meaning. Nice hair, by the way.
You believe in something, don’t you? That’s all you can do: convince yourself that there’s a reason for it all when you know there really isn’t, ‘cause there’s nothing else out there. Nothing but the random, arbitrary reasons you create solely to cling to. Order can’t help you. Chaos can’t help you. Or me, except I might convince you that everypony you’ve ever known is delicious and then turn you into a tail extension.
I don’t care that it’s unfortunate. Why should I? Bad things happen to everyone, much more often than good things.
At least they can choose how to deal with it. At least they can choose.
Speaking of choice, hey Greenie, how’d you like to be my new cutie mark? You’d look great on my... no? Awww, okay, but I’ve got to do something with you. Let’s see, you’re already green and... trees are green. Yeah! You ponies like trees, let’s turn you into one. Oh, stop begging for mercy already! I can’t help you. Trees need seeds, so...
Heh, oops! Too many seeds. Oh well, I guess my tree will be a little rounder than most. I’ll just add some branches sticking out of her ears and hooves, turn her hair into leaves, her skin into wood—nah, gold, let’s be fancy... there we go! Greenie, I can say with confidence that you’re the best tree ever created!
I think I’ll stick around for a little, maybe make a forest of trees like this one. Wet Blanket and Indoor Voice will show up sooner or later, of course, but they’re always fun to play with.
How I envy those two...
They’re everything I ought to be: they have just as much power as I do along with the freedom to use it any way they please. They could be me in an instant if they wanted to, but I can never be them. Even that isn’t enough: they have to try and ruin my fun at every turn. What do they want from me? They get their kicks from—ugh—friendship and harmony, while I get mine from chaos. Truth be told, I don’t see the point: why make friends when you can just amuse yourself? I get all the enjoyment I could ever ask for simply by existing. Still, we’re all pursuing what we enjoy, so what’s the difference? Maybe they also enjoy telling others what is and isn’t fun. Like I don’t have enough to deal with as it is.
Of course, they would never care about my problems—
not that I could ever tell them about my problems—
and try to help me, oh no.
They’re too busy being pretty paragons of pony perfection and pleasantness to everyone but me! I know exactly what they’ll do when they get here: they’ll be angry with me, give a little speech about the immorality of my actions and the sanctity of life and blah blah blah and then we’ll fight like we always do.
Could dance around in tutus for all it matters. Might even be good for them.
Dance party!
I’ll just sit somewhere and take whatever they throw at me—or dance with them—until I get bored, as usual. There’s no point in defending myself; this entire conflict of ours is as pointless as everything else in my life and they don’t even realize it. Even if they kill me someday, nothing will change. I’m a physical manifestation of something that already exists and existed before I did. It will continue to exist with or without this particular manifestation.
I am chaos.
I will always be around to cause trouble.
There’s absolutely nothing they—or I—can do about it.
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My sincerest thanks to the following writers for keeping Feather Sigil alive during the writing of I Am Chaos. Oh, and support, proofreading, advice, all that stuff. This work wouldn’t be what it is without their help.
Deceased
Sukasa
Criticul
quillsaga
Dreec
Varanus
device heretic
Starfall
Last but not least, the wonderful people at the Bíonn Gach Tosú Lag group.
-Discord
Well, this was a delightfully bizarre look into the mind of Discord.
I have to admit the description didn't attract me, and I would likely have never read this if it wasn't on Device Heretic's recommendations, but I'm certainly glad I did. I thought the writing was quite good and the story thought-provoking. Something you don't see too often in a ponyfic. It's a shame this story doesn't have more views, but hopefully it will get more exposure through DH and others.
I look forward to seeing more from you in the future.
Thanks! I quite like my hair myself.
Very interesting story.
Woah... that was really good, nice job!
Fifth comment.
Nice portrayal of Discord, you got the speech perfect and everything all perfect and how he views life perfect and *SHARP INTAKE OF AIR* it's all super-duper-extra-amazingly perfect!
Whoa...that was fantastic! Such and odd look into an odd mind.
Nice formatting btw, made it an even better, more visceral experience out of the whole thing.
The classic tragedy of the anthropomorphic personification: Personality without free will. Of course, Discord isn't actually anthropomorphic, but you know what I mean. Fantastically done. Great work.
That was some deep thought bro. Made you think and stuff... Whoa... Not sure if I should be sorry for Discord, or simply accept it as he has... Still, good fiction. Congrats and what not :D
holycrapthatwascoolmymindisinoverdrive! That was...beutiful.
Discord and existentialism...never thought I'd see that combination. But it worked. It worked oh so well.
static1.fjcdn.com/thumbnails/comments/Discord+is+pleased+by+your+drawing+skills+_f1ab63087aa27b081a833163bdbfd832.png
Wow. Beautifully done! existentialism and Discord, potent combination
Awesome. Moar :D Do Screwball!
well that was...depressing
still, kudos for a well done existential rant from the embodiment of a concept
Great work, mate! It's nice to see a project to have come so far!
Let's hope that this keeps goin' strong.
Man, I remember the first version of this. Sadly, I haven't had a part in this in a long while, as I have been busy... glad to see this came along so far from when I last saw it. I can personally attest to the immense amount of work Feather put into it, and I have to say it paid off quite well. I hope to see more from you, my fellow groupie. :D
Keep it up!
That was perfect. Just...perfect.
I love how you included the whole balance between order and CHAOS bit. That was actualy a concept that I had put a lot of thought into prior to reading this. In my fanfiction DISCORD understands the balance between order and CHAOS, and exists to keep the balance in his own ILLOGICAL way.
He actualy meant to get turned back into a statue after wreaking CHAOS upon the world to keep balance.
This story illustrates well what an impersonal god of chaos could be like, but it's not what Discord is like at all. Discord is evil, but he's a fun-loving sort of evil; he likes games and riddles and letting people think they might be able to outsmart him. This Discord doesn't have any of that. I also don't see where you're getting the idea of Discord being a prisoner inside his own body; if he really is a mindless manifestation of madness, then there's no logical or narrative reason for the narrator of this story to exist.
If this was a new character, he'd be a terrifying villain; possibly an excellent one, depending on the story. But when reinterpreting an existing character, you're going up against what we already know of that character. In this case, you're going up against John DeLancie's fabulous acting, and unfortunately I like his Discord better.
Sorry, gotta downvote.
869822 Thanks. I'll be sure to work on making the descriptions for future projects more intriguing.
872138 I had considered doing something like this for the Windigos--less existential, more psychological and emotional--but I'm unsure right now. We'll see what the future holds.
875990
"Discord is evil, but he's a fun-loving sort of evil; he likes games and riddles and letting people think they might be able to outsmart him."
Please explain to me why Discord wouldn't do anything he did in this story. Also, consider what he did to Fluttershy. He has no problems with directly changing others; he could have done the same thing to all of the mane six. Did those rabbits lose a rigged game of his? Did those buffalo? Did Granny Smith?
"I also don't see where you're getting the idea of Discord being a prisoner inside his own body; if he really is a mindless manifestation of madness, then there's no logical or narrative reason for the narrator of this story to exist."
That's the point. There's no reason for Discord to exist at all. There's no reason for the narrator Discord, as a somewhat separate entity from the active Discord, to exist. There's no reason for the narrator Discord to have the capacity to ponder the things he does in this story.
"But when reinterpreting an existing character, you're going up against what we already know of that character."
That's what reinterpretations do.
"In this case, you're going up against John DeLancie's fabulous acting, and unfortunately I like his Discord better."
Are you saying you felt I didn't write his voice correctly? You know John de Lancie did not write Discord's lines, right?
"Please explain to me why Discord wouldn't do anything he did in this story."
Discord hurts people emotionally. That's why he's called Discord--he is the spirit of conflict between ponies. Pure sadistic torture isn't his style. There's also a lot of angry self-pity in this story I didn't see in the original character, which does not improve him as a villain, IMO.
"Are you saying you felt I didn't write his voice correctly?"
That's exactly what I'm saying. You're free to re-imagine him and change his character however you like; I'm simply drawing attention to the specific ways you've changed him and providing my feedback that I don't think this is an improvement. Perhaps I should simply have downvoted and moved on; I'm not sure whether critiques are welcome here, but as the first to downvote I hoped I could be more useful than a simple "didn't like it, moving on."
At any rate, I am presently outvoted 57 to 1 on my opinion of your story, so feel free to take my opinion with a grain of salt.
880164
"Discord hurts people emotionally. That's why he's called Discord--he is the spirit of conflict between ponies."
http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/discord
Definition of DISCORD
1
a : lack of agreement or harmony (as between persons, things, or ideas)
Seems to me the word encompasses more than interpersonal conflict.
"Pure sadistic [physical] torture isn't his style."
Fluttershy, the rabbits and Granny Smith.
"There's also a lot of angry self-pity in this story I didn't see in the original character"
Because you couldn't have.
Discord is incapable of expressing the narrator's feelings. That's part of his plight.
"I'm not sure whether critiques are welcome here"
Critique most certainly is welcome. However, with regards to the voice specifically, you've yet to give any critique, so any examples would be much appreciated.
"as the first to downvote I hoped I could be more useful than a simple "didn't like it, moving on.""
Believe me, I appreciate that you took the time to express your grievances.
Discord never physically harmed Fluttershy, the rabbits, or Granny Smith. He changed all of them in ways they probably didn't like, but inflicting physical pain was never part of his agenda. The real harm he did in this case was through Fluttershy--the emotional damage of seeing the formerly tender pony viciously mocking her friends. Look at this clip, right after Fluttershy gets transformed: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VfcP22r0Oh8&t=19m6s The little slap she gives Twilight wasn't that physically painful, it was the betrayal and shock of her friend turning on her that upset Twilight.
That's what makes Discord such an intriguing villain: he doesn't rely on physical force to get his way. Instead, he turns ponies against each other so that they can't cooperate to overthrow him.
"Seems to me the word encompasses more than interpersonal conflict."
I don't see where you're getting that out of that definition. There's nothing innately cruel or insane in the definition of discord, and cruelty and insanity are the defining characteristics of the Discord in this story. The original Discord fits the definition of the word better than the new one.
"Critique most certainly is welcome. However, with regards to the voice specifically, you've yet to give any critique, so any examples would be much appreciated."
My critique is that the new voice in this story is not at all like Discord, and that having an angry, cruel, impotent voice screaming in the back of Discord's head does nothing to improve him as a character. Furthermore, the actions Discord takes in this story are wholly uncharacteristic of him and diminish his uniqueness as a character.
That's how I see it, anyway.
Hmmm... Chaos is Introverted....
I don't know why or how, but somehow I like Discord a bit more than I used to.
This somewhat reminds me of the story "I Have No Mouth, and I Must Scream" by Harlan Ellison. Overall I like what you did with the formatting as it gives the story a somewhat "chaotic" edge by breaking out of the normal format that most people are accustom to when reading. I would almost say I felt an almost Buddhist, even Zen, vibe from this but as a Buddhist would say even chaos itself is just an illusion that we impose on things that are not in "order". Nonetheless I enjoyed your story.
This is actually very depressing once you get into it
880903 Did you see how bitter he was when talking to Celestia? It is very possible.
...Annnnnddddd Head Cannon.
That was pretty good! ...it's just... I feel like this whole story was saying the same thing over and over again... with different snipits of information. No real plot or anything, and I know that's how it's suppose to be... but, i dunno, I didn't really feel it.
It started out with "I am chaos" and then ended with "I am chaos." It's like it started with the climax and all that was left was falling action. The "Protagonist" in this story never really encountered an obstacle ... or he did, but that obstacle did nothing to change what he has already believed himself to be.
Don't get me wrong, I liked it. It's just... I don't think it could be considered a story in the conventional sense... or really a story at all. The whole action part of the piece seems to come second-hand to the existential questioning of Discord which ultimately does nothing but reinforce the already stated "facts of his existence." If you understand the previous sentence then you understand why I thought this piece was just going around in circles the entire time...
But anyway, nice job! Congrats on the EqD post!
Fantastic,oh my this is just excellent.
Congrats for being posted on EqD.
I thought I disliked Discord before but now,I dislike him even more (that doesn't mean I don't love him as a villain).
Him being a "prisoner inside his own body"...
That made me laugh a bit,especially because of this part:
"You don’t deserve free will, you just happened to get it. In fact, everything in your life is nothing more than an accident. Another me might appear behind you a few seconds from now. You could burst into flames any moment. Whether you deserve it or not is irrelevant."
And:
"Why have an unnecessary intelligence and capacity for emotion, neither of which I can fully control?"
Is funny to me because he is supposed to know what Chaos is and how it works.If we go by what he believes,If he became a physical representation of Chaos is because he was also an accident.Whether he deserved it/wanted it not is irrelevant as well.
880405 Doing a thing for the windigoes is a little over the top, we dont exacty have a look at them really
What about Nightmare Moon, not Luna, Nightmare Moon as she lie on the moon contemplating it all until the moment she is free
This has got to be one of the strangest bits of fanfic I have ever read.
I'm not sure if I should applaud your insight or question your sanity.
Also one of the best.
Y'know, if i didn't ponder similar existential questions so often, this might keep me up at night.
Good work. I think.
I highly doubt any true arbiter of chaos would care about the meaning of his existence. Pondering existential implications... that's the work of a rational mind which certainly would not simply appear at random from the collection of angry pony thoughts of the old tribes. Everything would be a joke to him if it meant anything at all.
I should think Discord at his potential worst would be much like the Joker, a super-sadist whose plans ultimately only serve to spread destruction. At his best, Discord would be much more like Pinkie Pie at her wildest and most random.
Neither Pinkie nor the Joker ever question themselves. The Joker in fact finds it hilarious that he's the only one who 'gets the joke' of his existence. And Pinkie, she just is. I doubt she ever wonders about herself in the least.
The show's Discord is somewhat middle-ground, cunning and sly, whilst wielding his chaotic powers for the express purpose of making ponies miserable. His glee at finally turning Twilight is evidence of that, as is his frustration at having to resort to direct forceful conversion of Fluttershy. He didn't 'win' that part of his game, and it aggravated him.
The Discord here seems to be an unstable amalgum of an ordered mind controlled by a chaotic power. I'd like to see some more exposition on his origins. The stated vesion in this story, his simply arising from the pony tribes' conflict, doesn't jive with me. Were he a magical accident from an experiment, I could stand behind such an idea. I could understand his arising from a powerful unicorn attempting to magically remove the disharmony and establish a stronger order, and Discord being the result. Heck, he could even be the pony who tried it, converted into the monstrous form from all the randomness flooding his form. Maybe he was once Starswirl the Bearded! But in any of those cases, the sapient part of his mind would the tortured, twisted remains of the original pony, with flashes of his old self popping in and out at times, truly chaotic, jumbled images and experiences and thoughts, barely ever able to hold together long enough to regain awareness of what it had once been.
If you wanted to make a truly tortuous tale, it could be told that once in stone, forced into a semblance of order by the power of the Elements, then the old mind reassembles, reawakens and is aware of itself and what it has done in Discord's guise. And there, petrified for a thousand years, no one can hear the cries and pleas of the soul imprisoned inside the stone. And then, once Discord is free, the poor fragmented mind is rent assunder once more, to drift and scatter in the sea of entropy roiling inside Discord until the Bearer's seal him again. And then the torment begins anew.
Another take on his origins might even be akin to that black puddle of goo from the one Star Trek:TNG episode, the tarpit that killed Tasha Yar. The alicorns ascended by attempting to rid themselves of all that was evil in their being, and Discord was all the super-powered junk which re-assembled into the chimeric entity. He then killed all the other alicorns save Celestia and Luna, who discovered the Elements to stop him. Of course, Luna didn't quite purify herself completely, and so on to Nightmare Moon.
Meh, I can never get into purely existential philosophy when dealing with a magical land. Our whole reality doesn't sensibly apply there. They could quite easily have any form of an afterlife if the canon is written as such. And even if there is no formal afterlife, then purpose could be defined as evolving to the point of surpassing mortal boundaries, something creatures that possess magic would be far more apt to accomplish than mortals in our universe where all matter and energy are quite inexorably bound to the boring rules of physics. Ugh. So dullsville! I reallly do need to shake up this drab reality one of these days, once I've caught up with my fanfiction list, of course. My poking at the fabric of the universe could accidentally erase the Internet.
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I find your insight to match my own quite nicely. He seems very much like a cross between the Joker and Pinkie Pie, with just a dash of Jafar thrown in.
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Holy crap I started reading, had to stop, come back and there's literally double the likes. Did this appear in the papers or something?
I'm gonna quote AestheticB here: "[Discord] is perfectly imperfect". His whole existence is contradictory and, therefore, meaningless. This is something that struck me in the original episode. If he is Chaos, how come he's scheming against the ponies? In my opinion, your take on Discord is better than the show's writers (because that is also my take
)
You know, I'm not one to preach nihilism around, but daaaayum is it fun to think about.
I would ask for a sequel, but then, what's the point?
This was fantastic. I love the way you examined the limits of what Discord is, because despite all his power he really is very limited in what he can do and it really does not seem to be something he has any control over. He seems to be truly incapable of causing anything besides his signature brand of chaos, and when you really sit back and look at him the result is very organized. Same pink clouds, same destructive tendencies, a set seat of power, and no observed capacity to change despite chaos being the definition of change. It honestly makes me wonder what happened to make him that way because entropy does not need assistance and the result seems like the chains of a cursed god trapped inside a body that is not his and forced to enjoy eternal senseless destruction.
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That's what an EQD post does to your story.
She's squirming in his hands...
He makes a joke about 'giving (a) head (start)'...
And then he fills her with seeds until she's round.
Is there something else going on here, or have I just been reading too many clopfics?
No, I am.
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Not to mention when he says:
"She might have foals someday—hah, maybe not once I’m done with her, but stil..."
929195
You may yet be surprised.
He has the same deep, logical, insane thoughts as I.
This is actually pretty depressing.
This story deserves waaaaaaaay more views and likes than it has.
I found this to be amazing and well written, and have decided that I shall soon do a dramatic reading of it to be put up on youtube, read in my best Discord voice. This was perfect in every possible way.
Well, that was astounding. The tragedy of Discord's position, the not-quite-funny-and-kinda-just-unsettling 'humour' of his torture of Greenie, the sense of crushing inevitability.
Bravo, good sir.
Helllooo there you epic writer you! i did a reading of this for my youtube channel! hope you done mind
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I'm honoured that both of you have decided to record readings of my work.
I'd love to listen to them, so if you could PM me links to the videos that would be great.
Whyyyy.