5: My little, angry, armored, drunk, bearded pony. My little, angry, armored, drunk, bearded pony. Aaah aaah aaah aaaaah!
”Two… what did you mean by ‘four of us’?”
Her confusion rings through the hive link.
”You, boss, me, the golden pony-”
”Alicorn,” I correct her on reflex.
”-and the drone.”
”What drone, Two?”
This can’t be. It was just a dream.
”The one talking to Scream a lot.”
”Scream?”
The alicorn whistles innocently.
”No idea what the little snitch is talking about.”
”The drone says to ‘tell the boss I said hi and that miss Scream is playing a prank on you’,” Two, walking quietly by Steelback’s side, shoots Scream a suspicious glare, ”Can’t you hear him?”
”No, I can’t,” I say, ”And I think I know who’s behind it. Scream?”
”Hmph!” she purses her luscious lips, ”On the other hoof, why not? Yes, the drone WHO DOESN’T SHUT UP FOR A SECOND is hiding inside your hive mind. Yes, I am preventing you from hearing him, which could be considered a good deed, honestly. I’d kill for some peace and quiet by now. If he asks me one more time whether I was born like this or whether it was Marebelline, I might have to kill him. Creatively. NO, not a knife into your LEFT eye this time, you irritating ball of chitin. NO, EAR NEITHER!”
”If I ask why, am I going to survive the answer with my sanity intact, or will I have to start planning another purge of the hive mind?”
”Now now, let’s not go crazy here. Consider this sort of a motivation - you do what I want you to do, and you’ll get your drone buddy back. How about that? And if you don’t...”
”Don’t threaten my boss, alicorn!” growls Two.
”Shush, adults are talking,” Scream waves her off, her amused grin only growing in response to Two’s furious scowl.
Unfortunately, Scream’s got me by the egg sack, and she knows it. I don’t know what Three told her, but I doubt I can bluff my way out of this.
”And what do you want, Scream? And don’t say f-”
”I want my fun!” her grin turns into a full blown smile that would make a statue crack its knuckles and get ready to punch, ”And seeing you squirm with uncertainty at what I’ll ultimately want from you is a good start. Buuuut… let’s get back to basics - as I said before, find a good source of magic, and then we’ll see about the next step.”
”In the meantime, how about you let Three talk to us?”
”Heh, and how about no?” I feel panic come through Two's link, and I know Scream must have done something, ”And now that the little smartass showed she could hear Three, I’ll have to improve my concealment a little,” she pauses, ”STOP ASKING IF I’M THE NEW BAD GUY! Why thank you! I AM too pretty to be evil, aren’t I? No, NO! If you start singing I SWEAR I’ll kill you this time for real! Though I do admit it’s catchy,” Scream hums to herself, “Skin shiny and black, got holes in my leg… we do not fear what lies beneath, we can never dig too deep… dum de dum de dum de dum...”
With Scream’s continued humming of a faintly familiar tune, I sense Two’s disappointment.
”I’m sorry, boss,” she whispers, ”As an infiltrator, I shouldn’t have revealed what I know to a potentially hostile force.”
”Calm down, Two. You’re doing way better than anyone could expect from you with your age and lack of experience. Like… miraculously WAY better.”
”Not enough, boss,” a determined, and unbelievably cute, scrunch graces her nose, ”But I’ll grow smarter. I’ll find you the source of magic, and if I have to I will kick that alicorn out of our hive mind by myself!”
You know… I believe her.
”Let’s take things slow, Two. I don’t think Scream is an enemy, despite her being as irritating as goonorrhea. First, we need to make sure we can stay alive, and then we’ll see what we can do. I’d prefer making friends to dominating enemies by force. Changelings tried that, and here we are still paying for it.”
”Alright. I will adjust my plan accordingly.”
Great, more secret plans, now even from my changeling. Welp, I guess it’s up to me to keep an eye out on her when things inevitably go wrong.
With Scream seemingly lost in thought, Two looks at Crumble who is watching the identical hallways with furrowed brows.
“How is life in this ‘Brauheim’ city?” asks the disguised changeling.
”Hmm?” Crumble looks at ‘Hammer’, and smiles, ”It’s home. I am- I was a miner, my specialty is iron. Traditional, unimaginative, a little monotonous, but I liked it. It was good, honest work - start off my morning with a hearty breakfast, then continue working on the rich seams for most of the day with friends, afterwards go home to enjoy some good old baking, and read a bit before bed. I can’t wait to see everypony’s faces again,” her eyes mist over a little.
“And who’s in charge? You know, in case my boss wants to, let’s say, negotiate some kind of cooperation between changelings and dwarves.”
“We have a king and a queen, so starting with them would be a good idea. I’ve never seen a changeling before… you know what happened, but king and queen have access to royal library and do diplomacy stuff. And if even they don’t know about you, then the clergy might, but...” she ends up pouting, “I’d avoid them if I were you. The dark priests aren’t exactly friendly and open to new ideas. They barely want to communicate with crystal ponies, much less minotaurs. It took a lot of pressure from everyone to force them to allow us at least some contact with the outside.”
“So those dark priests are your leaders then?”
“They… guard old traditions and knowledge, and let us use ancient blueprints for devices and technology we aren’t allowed to trade with others - pumps, motors, thermal generators, lifts. Normal matters are dealt with by the king and queen. Well, mostly the king,” Crumble frowns, “Anyway, the clergy have final say in any big social change. They make sure we dwarves remain dwarves, if that makes sense. Kinda makes it hard to move past thousands of years old traditions and some rituals,” she adds, grumbling, “Like the chainmail thing.”
“What chainmail thing?” Two raises an eyebrow. Crumble shakes her head.
“Oh nothing, it’s just that mares aren’t allowed to wear full plate armors, or mine under magma streams while the stallions are. I say, if a mare can pass the deep core miner certification, she can wear the proper armor, and risk getting melted like any stallion!” Crumble stomps the floor, “A lot of my mare friends agree with me, some stallions too… even if they want to wear chainmail themselves. And the drinking! Seriously, everything from personal vendettas to questions of royal succession can be sorted out by drinking. Where is the sense in that?! How does being an insatiable beer sponge qualify you for leadership?”
“Less bloody than fighting, I assume. And how does the city look?” Two waves her foreleg around, “These tunnels are pretty empty.”
“This IS the city!” Crumble shakes her head, “There’s the castle in the city center, which is carved into one side of a chasm leading deep into the volcanic streams, but the surrounding city is a square grid separated into districts,” she stops for a moment, pointing at symbols above one door, “Vault 126-57 D, which means we’re in the storage district. There’s the trade district, housing district, farming district, forge district, and few more specialized ones. Underneath each district are service tunnels for maintenance of the machinery connected to the main floor, and deeper down there are the mining tunnels. So let’s say you mine a lot of iron, go to your forge in the forge district, smelt it and craft something, then you can sell it in the trade district. ”
”Huh? All the ponies we’ve met usually wanted to avoid all that walking, and had a combined flower shop and, let’s say, a greenhouse.”
”Can’t someone just build a forge in their shop?” Two shortens my question.
Crumble tilts her head sideways.
“That wouldn’t work. The piping is incompatible and would make mess with the maintenance shifts. The districts are separated because you need different supporting machinery for blacksmithing which emits a lot of heat that can’t be used in the farming district requiring very specific conditions. One more example - if you built large forge pumps under housing district, you’d go crazy in few days from the constant humming and thumping in the background. It’s smart the way it is, one of the few old ways I can agree with.”
“What happened there?” asks Steelback out of nowhere, looking into the left tunnel blocked by rubble halfway through.
“I don’t know, we wouldn’t have left a hall in such a shape for long,” says Crumble with a touch of panic, rushing towards the cave-in, “This didn’t collapse naturally,” she knocks her hoof against the wall, “No tunnel worm work either. Someone demolished this tunnel using explosives. Guard posts and blocked tunnels. We need to find out what’s going on.”
“We’re not far anymore,” says Two, “Let’s go.”
Several corridors later, the now singular dwarf sentry peeks out from behind his stone barricade when Crumble and Steelback clear the corner while Two stays behind, listening in.
“Who goes there?” asks the guard.
“Ambassador Steelback from Rift.”
“Crumble from 27-5 K, iron miner and baker extraordinaire.”
“Stay where you are!”
“What day is it?” asks Steelback, “Someone knocked me out, and when I woke up this mare was there with me. It took us a while to find our way around,” he sniffs the air, “Wait, why is that dwarf lying unconscious in a pile of vomit?”
“Lost an honorable duel while the other one didn’t even twitch. You should have seen it, it was amazing,” explains the dwarf. With the hoofsteps departing, Two peeks from behind a corner, and sees the sentry leading both the dwarf and the minotaur away. When they move out of sight, Two rushes to the barricade, jumps over the stone slab, and quickly examines the still wasted dwarf.
”Your job, boss?”
”Yep. They’ve got this dueling via drinking contest, and it seems us changelings are immune to the horrible concoction they drink if we don’t shapeshift our internal pianos. Plus, it makes our acidic spit kinda explosive.”
”Oh really...” she smirks, swiping the dwarf’s entire backpack, ”Some coins, cups, a bottle, food,” she tosses the rations away, spare axe… another spare axe… anot- ”Are you kidding me?”
More weapons and a whole iron ingot with “Spot” inscribed in one corner later, Two shapeshifts further, making her body a little bigger, and turning her coat lighter shade of brown, as well as switching the colors of her mane and tail into fiery orange.
”In case Steelback and Crumble blab to someone,” she explains, striding through the empty halls.
Giving a passing glance to the pantry door I ‘unlocked’ rather permanently, doorway now covered in yellow and black, sticky tape, she walks to the next one which should be one of the many armories, and takes a swig from the remains of the dwarf’s bottle. Much carefully than I did, she spits into the keyhole, and after a quiet ‘pop!’ she pushes the door open with no resistance, darting inside.
Darkness of the room means nothing to her eyes as she slips into a set of plate armor complete with the covering helmet.
”Oh holes...” she stumbles, and I feel her body straining against the weight, ”Crumble must be ten times stronger than she looks.”
”There are lighter armors in here,” I comment.
”Trust me, I’m an infiltrator.”
”You’ll be a pancake if you keep this one.”
”Would make getting under doors easier, boss. I need some love, that’s all, and that dwarf guard gave me just the right idea how to get it.”
I wish others would start telling me things. Why aren’t they telling me things? Am I that bad of a boss? Everyone has been doing this since the beginning. Only Three always told me things. Not the things I wanted to know, just all the things really.
“What are the damn dwarves made of?” curses Two, making minor muscular adjustments to her body over and over in order to make wearing what’s basically a block of steel easier.
In the end, she waddles out of the armory, gradually gaining steadiness in her steps over several hallways.
”Scream, can you help me translate the numbers?” asks Two out of nowhere, nodding towards the symbols on the wall of a tunnels crossing this one. The alicorn looks at the dwarven numbers a little bit above her head height.
”Ninety-three and fifty.”
”Alright, so this squiggle means- OW!” a painful spike of migraine makes Two stop and gasp for breath, ”Too much… my head hurts… my head… can’t think...”
”Two, sit down!” when she doesn’t obey, I take control, and make her sit on the floor, armored back pressed against the wall. This was bound to happen at some point, ”Just listen, Two. Calm down and listen. Close your eyes, breathe,” I say in the most calming voice I can, ”I’ll tell you a story about a little changeling who tried to bite off more than she could chew. Despite being mere hours old, this little changeling mastered shapeshifting, spot transformation, absorbed a language from her broodmother, and mouthed off to an alicorn-”
“I. AM. FINE!” Two’s scream echoes through the empty tunnels, before she pushes herself up despite the pounding headache spilling over to me.
-Sit down.-
Two’s legs fold underneath her instantly.
”And don’t make me use this again, because I’m not sure myself how I did it.”
”I can go on, boss. I swear I can-”
”I believe you, but there’s no reason to rush, no reason to burn love you’re going to need when you’re not in direct danger. Take a break, breathe, calm down, and then I’ll let you continue.”
”Patience isn’t her strong suit, is it?” snickers Scream.
”Like mother like daughter, I’d say.”
”I’ll show that TRAITOR what should have happened to her!” Two’s mental growl makes me freeze.
”Two? Where did you hear that?”
She thinks for a moment.
”I… I don’t know. It’s just… a feeling. From her… from you… from both of you… I don’t know. A part of me… regret...” she takes a deep breath, ”I’m sorry.”
”Well well well, such a powerful emotion to have branded the little one so strongly,” Scream rubs her chin, ”Either this is really what you think about your Eight deep down-”
No, I remember I used to think that as she was carrying my cocoon out of Las Pegasus, but not anymore. I was angry that she left others to die just to save me. I’m not anymore. I love her. The thing is… she might not love herself for that.
”-or it’s what SHE thinks, or thought when she laid Two’s egg,” I finish Scream’s thought. Oh, great hole in the sky, I hope Eight didn’t do something really reckless.
The infiltrator stands up again, forcing herself to breathe regularly.
“I can do this, I can do this, I can do this,” she whispers over and over.
”Are you sure, Two? And no nonsense, no anger. You’re smart, you’re analytical, but you’re young. Analyze properly, then answer. Can you do this infiltration mission?”
She stops, and simply breathes until she calms down completely. Even the headache fades a little.
”Yes, I can.”
”Still a little too prideful,” comments Scream, ”On the other hoof, a go getter if ever I saw one. Somepony will have to beat that out of her, but if she survives the failure, she’ll grow up nicely.” on Two’s exploratory look her way she adds, ”Changelings usually don’t get a second chance.”
Collected again, Two resumes walking through the halls of Brauheim.
As it turns out, the city isn’t too different from Canterlot or Las Pegasus once I get over the initial underground thing. It’s not a warzone as I expected from Crumble’s words, despite bearing the most heavily armored population of probably the whole world. The rows of doors from the warehouse district eventually give way to larger hallways and wide open plazas where houses and shops have windows as well, complex carvings decorate the walls of each shop, and groups of dwarves yell at each other while furiously shaking their axes and hammers which on closer look proves to be good old haggling for prices. The number of ponies around is somewhat smaller than I’d expect from a complex which has to be larger than Las Pegasus, but my experience with pony cities is limited at best.
However, as Two reaches a certain hallway, the barricades and collapsed tunnels reappear, this time following a line as if a section of the city had been blocked off earlier. Asking what’s going on would certainly lead to questions we can’t afford, so we’ll have to approach things different way.
”I can take one of the guards by surprise, bite the other one, hide them somewhere, and interrogate both,” says Two while passing by yet another sentry post.
”Yes, I have wild imagination too,” Two looks about to pounce at the alicorn at Scream’s completely dismissive answer, ”but what are you REALLY going to do?”
”Gotta agree with the clop horse here. These guys are armed to the teeth, their very, very armored teeth. I doubt tempered steel is a good diet for developing young changelings. Thankfully, I’ve got an idea. Every city needs a tavern where ponies go to unwind after work, and more importantly - bitch about what’s bothering them.”
Finding one proves far easier than it would seem on the first glance, all one needs are ears, and Two’s got, well, still only two of those but it’s a quality pair. The previously visited plaza hosts an expansive one-story building with bright yellow light coming from the windows accompanied by a cacophony of talking, yelling, stuff being smashed with other stuff, which Two, with my help, identifies as our target. She gathers courage, and enters.
I feel her worries dissipate when no one gives her a second glance, and that even here most of the stallions are still wearing platemails while the mares are fitted with chain mails sometimes longer or shorter depending on what I assume to be dwarven fashion. For stallions, that seems to consist of less or more spikes all over their armor.
Anyway, the tavern is very similar to those I saw in Canterlot, in Las Pegasus, heck, even in a tiny village like Wet Soil, only massively scaled up. Long, wooden tables are laid whenever there’s free space, each hosting lines of chairs. By the distant, and I mean actually distant for an interior space, wall there’s a raised dais where a loud dwarf is yelling something barely coherent over all the drowning noise of everyone else.
The service is surprisingly quick for such a large establishment, though, and as soon as Two sits down by a corner V-shaped table, a mare who has to be a waitress, judging solely by her steel-plated leather skirt, trots over, presenting a paper covered in dwarven scribbles. Thankfully, Scream helps Two read the ‘menu’, and explains that most of the names on it are kinds of alcohol, some apparently really rare ones. Not to raise suspicion, Two orders the first beer from the long list, and thanks the waitress.
Then she takes her helmet off, and several tables nearby go quiet.
“Hey, hey, HEY!” a stallion stands up, stomping his hooves on the table, “You can’t wear that! Go back to your queen if you want to wear that. This part of the city is for real dwarves only!”
”Oh crap, I completely forgot what Crumble said.”
”Don’t worry, I didn’t,” a devious smile graces Hammer’s muzzle, ”All part of the plan, boss.”
”Care to share before you have to flee from the city?”
”It won’t come to that.”
I wish I shared her optimism. However, frowns from some mares I can see show they don’t exactly agree with the angry stallion.
“Einbecker mai-ur-bock, aecht shlenkerla rauchbier marzen,” grins Two, carefully voicing every word. Every BAD word from what I remember.
”Your mother guzzles water in public, you chainmail thong wearing shortbeard,” translates Scream automatically before my mind catches on.
The dwarf ROARS.
A metal cup tossed by Two bounces off of his muzzle.
“Dos equis, bitch,” she adds.
”WHAT ARE YOU DOING, TWO?!”
”Fulfilling your orders, boss. To. The. Letter.”
With the situation so far past the point of no return you couldn’t see it from the top of Canterlot mountain, all I can do is watch the ongoing drinking contest.
As expected, the dwarf eventually keels over while Two slams the cup victoriously on the table.
“ANYONE ELSE, OR ARE YOU SISSIES AFRAID OF A REAL MARE?!”
Of course that an another more traditional dwarf, spurred by snickering of several surrounding mares, tosses his cup into the ring, and the second round begins.
I think I understand Two’s plan now. She wants to build a reputation, and then gain some information when she proves to be the drinking champion of the year, if dwarves have something of that sort.
Seems safe enough then, unless she gets to the point where alcohol isn’t enough to settle all disputes.
With the second unconscious dwarf being unceremoniously shoved under the table, and Two pretending to wobble a little to avoid suspicion, a third challenger approaches, making me correct my statement.
IF there is a situation where hard liquor isn’t enough in dwarven culture.
I feel my real self yawn.
”Alright, Two. I doubt I need to see the rest. It’s been a long day, and think I’ll get some sleep. If you get into trouble, just call and I’ll be right there.”
”Of course, boss,” Two replies with suspicious meekness, progressively butchering another dwarf in the traditional duel, and winning another fight for dwarf mare rights.
With a yawn, I withdraw myself from her, and close my eyes.
***
A short stab of panic wakes me up. Why can’t it ever be anything nice? I want to be woken up by a hug sometimes.
Immediately looking out of Two’s eyes, I see that she’s still in the tavern, but there’s a big, burly dwarf burping and babbling something at her with his flamethrower aimed her way. Two’s belly feels so full it’s sloshing with each step over dozens of empty bottles strewn on the floor. Roaring, stomping, and occasional boo-ing of far more dwarves than I recall being there before on all sides is deafening.
”What the hole is going on, Scream?”
”Morning, sunshine!” answers the alicorn with an eager expression on her face, ”You know how they always say that when you’re in prison you have to punch the biggest guy in the face to prove dominance?”
”No, I don’t, and that sounds like a good way to get stabbed.”
”Well, that guy apparently is the dwarven king, and damn, he can drink.”
“Beaten by a mare,” taunts Two with slight slurring in her voice, “Guess all that you stallions can do properly is whine whine wh-”
The king’s twists his hoof, lighting a tiny pilot flame in front of the nozzle fixed to his foreleg.
“Gn- gnna- kill yuu, an yer whor ovva queen!” the dwarf belches with the rumble of a crumbling mountain.
The blinding fireball as the toxic cloud of pure alcoholic vapors from his mouth reaches the prepared flamethrower nozzle turns everything white before charring the floor, ceiling, and the nearest tables.
Standing under the raised dais, Two, eyebrows and mane singed, watches coldly as the screaming king of dwarves roasts inside his plate armor, blue fire spreading to everyone trying to help.
From the nearest table, Two grabs a chair, pulls it onto the dais, and sits down on it, watching the few dwarves pull their extremely dead king away.
The crowd of dwarves starts cheering, slamming their tankards of beer against the table over and over, chanting:
“RADEGAST!”
“RADEGAST!”
“RADEGAST!”
”The means - ‘The Invincible’,” mutters Scream in disbelief as the nearest dwarves finally having extinguished the fire start kneeling before the sadistically grinning changeling.
”Two, what the hole is the meaning of this?!”
”I did exactly what you said, boss.”
”IN WHAT WAY EXACTLY?”
”Crumble said that the traditional duel can sort out royal succession. All I had to do was to get to the king, and drink him to death. This way mares love me because the old guy was a traditionalist denying them rights, and stallions respect me because I won fair and square. Plus, the old guy tried to kill me when he lost the duel, making everyone see he was a cheater. You wanted friends, you wanted information, and you wanted love we can feed on.”
Two’s smile grows even wider when she raises her own tankard, and takes a sip of ale as the adoration of the crowd fills her with so much energy that is seeps over to myself.
”Boss, I present all those things to you - your nation.”
”I AM SO SCARED AND PROUD OF YOU AT THE SAME TIME!” applauds Scream.
THIS ESCALATED FAR TOO QUICKLY!
”How’s that for a first mission, huh?” asks Two, smug to her horseshoes.
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Well... uh... didn't see that coming.
*whipes tear from my eye* so beutiful... thet grow up so fast. One moment they are born, the next they are conquring a kingdom. Way ta go two. Now thats a hitting the ground running if i ever saw it. Gotta love the smell of roasted dwarf.
I can see it now. Two brings forth all the edible gasoline she just consumed so that she can breath fire. That would look cool
I so wish you could upvote chapters, this one was wonderful!
You should make a blog post for the original story saying this sequel exists. I only found it because it was featured.
Yes! So much yes.
How in the hell did she get to the king?!?! Are the king and queen separate offices?
9340560
Amusingly enough, when I started first writing this chapter, neither did I.
9340630
Roasted dwarven king smells like burning distillery, and some flesh on top. And yes, Boss' accidental explosive mixture will become Two's weapon of last resort. And punching. She takes after her real mother, after all.
9340724
As long as people are reading, engaging, and commenting, I'm happy.
9340836
That this could happen didn't even cross my mind, I'll drop a blog about it in a minute.
9340886
Calm down, calm down, I still have to artificially inject some plot next chapter.
9340939
Excellent questions. First, the dwarven king was simply drinking in the tavern. Why he was there, where was the queen, and some other things are what the Boss and Two need to find out, which means next chapter.
9340953
Plot injections are nice, that's just more cause for yes.
Welp.
*raises glass*
WHAT DID YOU DO NOW TWOS A NOBLE
I wonder when Five, Six, and Seven will appear and the things that they will do?
Also,
Hail Two, the Drinking Queen!
9341023
True, but plot is a serious thing. No fun allowed!
9341123
Glasses are for pussies! Dwarves drink from heavy metal mugs.
9341665
Oh don't worry, she's still a changeling, so Boss will just assume her disguise.
9341846
Considering how much longer the chapters are in comparison to Management, probably soon. And you can start guessing what they will do from the cover "art".
9341863
You're right. *puts on bowtie and saddle shoes*
Serious mode: Engaged!
9341863
I'm pretty sure the one with the purple spots is Three and I'm absolutely sure the white one in the middle is Four.
The new small one to the right of King is probably Seven because unlike Three, it's a lucky number. The mohawk one is probably Six as they seem to be a Devil's Advocate character or at least somewhat negative. The one with guard armor I hope is Five because they look like the little brother to Ten.
9340836
I found the original because this one was featured. Did I do good?
9341871
NOW SHOW ME YOUR WAR FACE!
9341917
Gud enuff for me, although it means you missed the original when it was featured.
9341893
You guessed the first two right. The rest, not so much. (The purple spots are runic enchantments same as Blazing Light had when Scream captured and bound his soul to an artificial body in "Imbalanced".)
The purple thing on Seven's head isn't a mohawk, it was supposed to be a glowing horn of someone using magic. And the last armor isn't a Royal Guard one, but a pally one - the thing on the front is supposed to be a sun. Welp, gotta get better at my pixeling, it seems.
Hint for identification: They're all in order, with Boss being 0, and Nine being gone.
9341968
Be afraid.
9341968
If I had seen that Sun, I would have known that it was Ten. Your pixeling is fine, it's the color of the Sun. I didn't see it until you said so.
100% like/dislike ratio with 50 likes? Wow.
Well damn, she must have rolled a 20/20 on every stat upon hatching.
Except wisdom maybe?
9341986
AAAAAAAAH!
9342003
Well, I'm gonna mess around with pixels anyway, and one day I'll become a real drawer!
9342004
Don't worry, it won't look as good after the first changeling's gruesome death. Especially if it's someone they like. Seriously, though, you people are too kind to me.
9342178
Maybe she was born that way, maybe Eight used a stat editor when making an egg. It's actually intelligence, that's all she has. A smart, adaptive little cookie. And crazy just like her mom, but in a different way.
9342300
To be honest, "Hard to Find the Right Words", "Exercise in Management". and "Halls of the Changeling King" are kinda my only easy to read stories. The rest is… too grim I suppose.
DAAAAAAAAAMN!!!!!
Damn. She really IS Two.
Well...I...He is definitely the "King" now
9341986
I am afraid, very afraid.
I am think that all the brains missing from Boss and Eight go into there children.
Whelp, that's one way to conquer a nation.
Fucking Badass.
10418163
Two in a nutshell. A small cup of big things.
All hail 2 the ultimate infiltrator!
10754286
Two is a very special little black red-headed potato.
10418163
”Boss, I present all those things to you - your nation.”
”I AM SO SCARED AND PROUD OF YOU AT THE SAME TIME!” applauds Scream.
THIS ESCALATED FAR TOO QUICKLY!
”How’s that for a first mission, huh?” asks Two, smug to her horseshoes.
Is when the Doom music starts 😆😆
10986579
I think I did a changeling ranking as a blog post at some point and Two did pretty well.