Or was it twenty-seven?
Chitinous hooves clack against cold cave floor as I pace. Thorax, that traitor. Scum, filth. The air in here is so stifling. My face scrunches and unscrunches as I sniff, trying to get a good breath. It's stale and unsatisfying, and if I can't get a good one soon, I feel like I'll lose my mind. I sniff harder, which only serves to force more of the unpleasant air into my lungs. I go outside.
I make the mistake of looking at the large pile of boulders nearby. Was that one always there? Was it twenty-eight or twenty-nine? I stare at them. Count them. Twenty-eight. Was it twenty-seven before? I blink away the sight, but it doesn't go away even when I turn my head. Trees above sway gently, a mockingly comforting sound. Maybe I should go back inside.
My breath is raspy. Why is the air so damn stifling? Should I add a third ventilation shaft? It was never this bad, even in the deepest hive tunnels. Ugh. Thorax. And his cursed pony friends. Clack clack clack, pace pace pace. Maybe I should dig a second exit just in case. Can't let them trap me in here. Can't let them beat me.
I blast a large hole through the ceiling in the back, just wide enough to fit through, then cover the outside of it with brush. Yes, safe now. And better ventilation.
I add more mucus to my lair. Another layer in the lair. Ha. Hahaha. I laugh out loud and it goes on for far too long, making me cough. The new lair is good. The lair's air is not. The bare lair air there. I hate puns and cutesy rhyming trash. That's for ponies. Ponies are food. I am above them. Why did I laugh, then? It wasn't clever. I'm better than that.
I force a scowl.
Much better.
Speaking of lairs, I've made a new one each week for three years now. Have to keep moving, after all. Can't let them find me. Can't let them win. They won't, not while I still draw breath. Thick and stagnant breath, like breathing ash. It's too warm in here. Colder than the hive was, but I just feel too warm. The oppressing warmth isn't even the cave; it's everywhere, like it's stuck under my chitin. I lick my lips, very aware of the subconscious act. What am I even doing? I'm staring at a Hive-damned wall. I growl and kick it, cracking the hardened mucus layer covering the rock. I try to calm down with a sigh, only far too conscious of how thick and disgusting the air tastes. I spit it out like viscous saliva.
Getting low on love, and I need more. I leave and make a conscious effort not to look at the pile again, but the damned thing sneaks into my peripheral vision.
Was it twenty-seven?
I infiltrated Hoofington again for love. I wasn't caught. I did everything right. The stallion at the market who stared just one second too long knew nothing. Probably just checking out my ass or something. No, he didn't know. I did everything right. He didn't know.
I'm feeling strong again. Strong enough that I was able to set up wards and magic alarms that only ponies or former changelings will trip. Ha. Just let them try to get me now. I dare them.
I counted the pile when I was coming back in. Twenty-eight. Was it twenty-nine before? I placed extra wards on it just to be sure. I'm onto their tricks.
On second thought, I hope he did know. The stallion in the market, that is. I hope they try to find me. They won't catch me. Maybe if they find me, they'll realize just how hopeless their efforts are. I'll already be gone.
When I was in the market, I briefly shifted my eyes back just to prove how pointless their constant pursuit of me is. I openly mocked them, and not a single pony noticed. I dared them to notice. The stallion who stared – had he noticed? I hope so. He kind of looked like a stallion stuffer to me, so he probably wasn't staring at my ass. So why did his eyes linger on me for a second too long? That one second stretches to an eternity in my memory as I try to recall his expression. Was he surprised? Afraid? I can't remember.
I'm panting in anticipation as if any second now, a horde of ponies and what used to be changelings will burst through the entrance and overwhelm me. I remain expectant for several minutes, even though the alarms would trigger the moment a pony was anywhere near this part of the forest. Regardless, my heart is still racing. They might have counter wards, after all. Any second now. Staring at the light spilling in, every move outside sets me on edge, my nerves on a hair trigger. I'm a coiled spring, ready to pounce. Ready to fight, to blast them with raw energy, then flee deeper into the forest where they can't follow my trail. There! No, just a branch swaying into view. My horn's glow dissipates. Maybe he didn't know.
I did have a pretty nice ass for a pony.
I eat an apple I stole from a stupid mare who wasn't watching her bags. The taste is disgustingly pleasant. I miss the fungus of the old hive – tasteless nourishment. None of this pointless flavor. It tastes like sweet empty promises of happy times ahead. The shiny red skin taunts me. Friendship, happiness, bright and cheerful days, come on Chryssie, we can all get along and live in peace. No. You are food. I take another vicious bite of the apple and swallow without chewing it enough, large chunks sliding down my throat uncomfortably. Just food.
With my gnawing hunger reduced to a growl, I can focus on other things like clearing the air. With a simple spell, I create a strong draft through the cave and then wait outside. Outside with the pile.
It mocks me, but I show it who's boss by turning on it with a grim smirk. I count the boulders. It's not going to win. I commit all of them to memory, each protruding shape and color and position of every single one. I stare until I can count them from memory. Twenty-eight. Every time, it's twenty-eight.
But when was it twenty-nine?
With my wind spell finished, I go back inside the cave. Ah, fresh air at last. I breathe it in deeply, over and over, hyperventilating until my head swims and I feel like giggling madly over my glorious victory. A wicked, toothy smile splits my face. Not today, cave.
It's still too warm, though.
I sigh, and as I breathe in, the air is just as putrid and thick as it was this morning.
I retch, and vomit a small splash of dark green bile flecked with little bits of cheerful red apple skin. I'm glad I managed to keep most of the food down. I can't afford to be careless with it. I retch again, and run outside before I lose more calories. I manage to ignore the pile and, wings spread, take flight.
My flight path is directionless and wandering. I know I'm exposing myself by flying during the day, but my fear of being found is far outweighed by my need to distance myself from my lair. I find a tall tree, and land among its upper branches, gulping lungfuls of sweet not-lair air. I gasp out an unexpected heavy sob, then let rage overwhelm me to stop myself from showing weakness.
Showing to who?
Doesn't matter. Anyone. Myself. Can't be weak. I growl, and grind my teeth until the deep sadness dies (but only after struggling like a bleeding animal). Then a bright explosion of loud mental images floods my mind, nonsensical colorful shapes simply meant to get my attention.
The alarm!
I leap out of the tree, and pour all of my energy into making my wings buzz faster. Have to get back. Can't let them find my lair.
By the time I arrive, there are no ponies or ex-changelings around. None that I can see, anyway. There is, however, a bright yellow sheet of parchment stuck to the wall just inside my cave. Curiosity gets the best of me, and I pull the sheet off the sticky wall with my magic. The letters on it are neatly written.
Chrysalis,
I know we haven't seen eye to eye, especially given my takeover of the hive. I know it must have been hard for you, but I want what is best for everyling, even you. I can't really put into words how much better life has been since we stopped having to feed on ponies. I think you deserve better, too. I just want you to know that you are always welcome back to the hive any time as long as you don't hurt anyling. A lot of us here miss you, and would be glad to have you back.
If you are scared of punishment, I promise we are willing to forgive your past as long as you work to make a good future. I've personally issued a command that noling is to harm you while you remain peaceful, under penalty of temporary banishment.
By the way, Pharynx sends his regards. I think he misses you too. He can be a stubborn hoofful at times, but even he has embraced our new ways. Eh, mostly.
Also, we've noticed that you move around a lot. I just want to say, in case you think we're hunting you or out for revenge, that's not true. I have been worried about you lately, so I really hope you are doing okay. Again, the offer to come back is always available! Please do not hesitate to seek help from us if you need it. We're always here for you.
(Hopefully) your friend,
Thorax
I finish the letter with a rage-filled sneer. Thorax! Damned traitorous coward! He came here when he knew I was gone. A brief thought of slowly tearing his wings off helps me calm down.
How did they know?! I have been so careful. I've covered my trail so well. Unless he's lying. They just got lucky and found me today, and want me to think that old Chryssie can't handle herself by making me seem like a joke of an infiltrator. I bet it was that stallion stuffer from the market. He followed me here. Yeah, well, I perfected the art of hiding in plain sight! They won't get away with mocking me like this!
I focus inwardly, and create a small ball of superheated energy directly on top of the parchment, completely obliterating it.
Wait.
What if he's still here? My eyes widen, and I look at the pile of boulders. I count them quickly. Twenty-eight. Ah ha! I am pretty sure there were only twenty-seven earlier. I pour a large amount of energy, nearly all of my stored love from Hoofington, into my horn. With a wild cackle, I aim it at the pile of rocks, and release it in a huge, blindingly bright, deadly beam. An explosion gusts past me, blowing my fins straight back, but I hold my ground, my laughter fading back in as the loud blast finishes. Small bits of rock rain down around me. A large dusty cloud obscures my vision of the former pile of rocks. My cackle dies down to an unsteady discordant giggle as I wait for it to clear.
Where's his body?
Was it destroyed?
Did he escape?!
I look about wildly, head twitching and eyes scanning everywhere. My giggle and smile fade completely, replaced by a displeased scowl.
Okay. Okay. Maybe he got away. But he hasn't won yet. I can still escape and make a new lair. Can't let them find me again. Next time they might just attack. This time I'll be even more careful. This time they'll never find me. I'll show them not to mess with me, Queen Chrysalis.
I run headlong into the trees. It's time to find another cave.
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Hm
I think they all know in town it is Chrysalis. The sad part is that unfortunately she is too far gone and she has had the silly stick hit her one to many times on the head. Hopefully they will catch her as she is fleeing and give her a nice padded room that she can feel safe in.
Kind of feel sorry for her.
Thanks author, you remembered the times I went insane. Bad times I say! Hallucinating and all that.
Thanks author, you remembered the times I went insane. Bad times I say! Hallucinating and all that.
Nice little story. Chrysalis's mannerisms were well-portrayed. The ending did feel a little abrupt at first, but upon rereading it began to feel more natural.
Have a Like. :)
This was an awesome little study of psychotic paranoia. If they'd ever let Chrysalis act like this in the show, it'd be perfectly in character. You deserve a like, and you shall have it.
9439369
Thank you! I wasn't really too sure how to actually end it, and I was also worried that it was abrupt. I mean, uh, clearly it was a story about a pile of rocks, and once they were tragically killed off, it had to end! Yeah...
9439129
This comment makes me feel kinda dumb because it somehow never even crossed my mind that everyone in town knew it was Chryssie. But it makes so much sense, and I think the trip into town was just vague enough that I can say that's totally canon now. Now I just imagine a bunch of ponies saying "Hey, Chrysalis!" and she just twitches and denies she heard it. Even better if she just forgot to use a disguise. Sneaky bug.
9439413
This was very much an experimental style for me, written with lots of editing and rewrites trying to get the tone right. I'm extremely glad it has paid off. Hearing that it feels in-character really means a lot, so thank you, and I am very happy that you enjoyed it.
Given how Chysalis behaves in the show... she lost her mind a looooooong time ago.
Poor queen, too far gone to realize she has minders. Not to watch for her vengeance, but to care for her, the crazy mother (?) to the hives. They are in the city and in the woods, they look upon once-royalty from afar, sad with the realization she is but a shadow of her former (still crazy) self. Poor Chryssi.
Gud, MOAR!
9439129
She probably wasn't even in a pony form, probably still in changeling form.
9439369
Have a Kit KatTM
Very well written. I would not be adverse to seeing more but the story also has a concrete ending as is.
9440318
Is that a good or bad thing?
Entertaining.
It kind of reminds of the tv trope often used in cartoons. The one where a character pulls a prank on another, and the other just lets it go and moves on, but the character is so paranoid that they're going to get revenge, that they basically end up making a fool of themselves in the process.
9440481
Good
9440481
I was making a joke, "Have a like, have a Kit Kat"TM. You know, the kit kat commercials?
To be honest going into this I wasn't expecting something this well done. Color me pleasantly surprised and take my upvote
Might be deserving of a sad tag.
9441181
That really means a lot to me, thank you! I'm glad you found it enjoyable.
9441249
I had actually considered a sad tag, but wasn't sure if it fit by the time I finished writing it. The tags are rather sparse, so I'll add it. I think the opinion of whether it's sad might change from person to person, but since I was on the verge of adding it anyway, I will now. Thanks for the feedback. Hope you liked it!
9441272
I did. Always interesting to read a story that focuses on the degradation of someone’s headspace.
9440595
I do believe it's called "Paranoia Gambit".
more
It really shows how much she's fallen. Great work.
9440944
Ok. I was worried it might've been a variant of "Dude, eat a Snickers" and you were telling me to chill out or something.
My bad.
9441396
Hehe that would have been funny too! "You're not you when your hungryTM."
not everypony can be redeemed, not everypony can be saved, there are just some creatures you just can't reach......
Truly tragic. A queen without subjects is just a mare in a silly hat, and this one's mind has come to match it. And she simply cannot conceive of anything but what she'd do if the tables were turned: Hunt down the fugitive without pause or mercy. Any better possibility must be a trick, must be a lie, for to believe otherwise would mean admitting just how mistaken she was for how long. Excellent work.
9441830
Okay, at the risk of sounding like a total dork... I've seen you in comment sections and just generally all over the place, and I've kind of secretly wanted a comment from you for a little while now. So, it's an honor to finally see it happen. Getting praise from you has made my morning, and I'm kinda ecstatic now. I'm thrilled that you liked my story.
Would love a sequel perhaps from someone’s else’s perspective but you ended it well enough for it you be satisfying by itself.
This fic feels empty. Like it's a start towards something else. It feels hollow. Even her paranoia doesn't seem interesting. Disliked.
9441931
You do realize a "dislike" on a story is the equivalent of somewhere around at least negative 20 upvotes in how fimfiction's algorithms judge ratings, right? That's not something to be given lightly.
I have not actually read the story (yet), I just came across your comment while browsing. Perhaps it is deserving of a downvote, I do not yet know. Just, from your comment it seems you were unaware of how severely a downvote affects a story.
I'm not saying "never downvote anything", I am merely saying "reserve it for what deserves it".
9441992
No I didn't know that but quite honestly I give my dislike to mostly bad fics or fics I dislike. I don't just dislike because of the theme except if it is badly written.
Honestly the fimfic feature box allows really random things to enter the feature box and in my honest opinion this fic doesn't deserve the spotlight. I didn't just downvote it because of the spotlight thing. I genuinely believe that if one is disliking things they should say why and be honest. A dislike is not a sentence to death. Opinions should be freely expressed and I should be free to dislike something and say why.
9441931
Hm, I'm not quite sure how to reply to this. Partly because her paranoia is kind of supposed to feel empty. It's not a start to something bigger, but a continuous miserable empty experience, so making it more interesting or giving it some divine meaning kind of seems like it would be forced for the sake of plot convenience. I might be wrong, just your reasons for disliking it kind of show that I succeeded in portraying her situation the way I had intended. A bleak and pointless existence. The implied continuation is supposed to be more of the same for her, just a slow self-induced torture, not like some huge redemption or grand quest of revenge (despite her desire to seek it out).
You're absolutely free to dislike this and despite disagreements that may occur from others, I am grateful for your input. I want to improve my writing, so if this was overall a mistake, I would indeed like to do better next time. I will keep it in mind, perhaps strike a better balance. Anyway, I will personally thumbs up your comment, as I do appreciate all feedback, positive or not. Thanks for reading!
9442062
First. I didn't say that her paranoia is empty I said that it felt uninteresting. There's no buildup to it. It's just there. There's no escalation from a starting point, there's no justification for it becoming like it is. Sure Thorax and the rest betrayed her but from the show I know her to be angry and you show her straight up insane in this fic. It's like going from point A to point B without moving from your chair.
There's a little poem in Greece called "Ithaca" by C.P. Cavafy http://www.cavafy.com/poems/content.asp?id=259 It describes the importance of the journey to a certain place. I am berefit of that pleasure. It's like you describing me your headcanon.
Second. I said that the fic is empty because it feels too little while delving on an issue that feels like it just started. I feel like I went in the theater to watch a good movie... came halfway... and then you yanked me out of it in an abrupt manner. It feels like this fic should have started LONG before this, have had multiple chapters, then end long after this fic. I get that not all stories can be like that, but damn me if it should.
So the reason I disliked this is totally different than what you said.
9441421
He does disguise himself as a rock in The Times They Are A Changeling, and his brother Pharynx does similar in To Change A Changeling, so it is canonically possible.
9442491
Fair enough, I didn't know what you had meant by empty, and you mentioned her paranoia, so I figured you meant that it should have had some kind of bigger purpose. And I suppose it is just a description of headcanon. It was never really my goal to describe the journey, just to try to portray a slice of her life after spending a lot of time living in fear. I mean, I tried to imply how it had happened in the story, and that it was a slow process that took time. I figured that would be explanation enough for her current state, just so I could play with her in that state. I guess it kind of clashes with The Mean 6 Chryssie, adding traits she didn't show there, but it was still a mental state I wanted to explore, and she seemed like a reasonable candidate. I didn't want her to be insane, like full-on running headfirst into walls insane, but kind of on the edge of it. Her obsessions and feelings were rooted in real worries still, just blown kind of out of proportion. It didn't seem like she was unrealistically far from inwardly feeling this way while still outwardly acting like she did in the show. She still mostly has herself under control.
I dunno. This was just kind of my thought process. I specifically wanted to write something short, so I was hoping the implications were enough to fill in the beginning and end yourself. Sorry that I didn't really pull it off well enough. I haven't been writing for very long, so I hope to eventually be able to handle a story like this and still make it satisfying. I know I have lots of improving to do, so I'll try to do better. I'd really like to be able to make something short that hits hard, I guess. This was still a very early attempt for me and much more successful than I expected as far as its reception, but I'm very aware it's not perfect. Thanks again for the feedback, and apologies for misunderstanding your first comment.
9442814
Honestly you're dead wrong. I won't ramble anymore about it. I have my opinions. I express them. That is that.
I don't "expect" or demand anything. And how suddenly I became an evil jerk because I provided feedback because of my dislike of a fanfic is news to me. People don't often provide feedback for their dislikes. They should and it preferably should be done with as less sugarcoating as possible. I don't hate this fic, I dislike it.
Maybe you should use Occam's razor theory and see that things are simpler than they look.
9442594
It's not that you didn't pull it well enough, it's that it honestly felt short. I understand your need to write this and you shouldn't stop but I just felt that this story delved in a way too interesting and complex issue to last just one chapter.
At the very least I felt like this fic could escalate in like... Journal entries. I'm providing examples here not mandatory guidelines. The journal could have been found when she was caught with entries of deteriorating progressive grammar structure until it's just gibberish. At least her arrest would be a good ending point. There could be other good ending points but you get my drift.
I won't ramble on any longer. Have a nice day.
9441421
I can spot him easy.
9442869
Yeah, I don't want the comments to just be this back and forth. I still appreciate the feedback.
This feels like half of a story. There’s no actual plot here, just a short, lacklustre exploration of paranoia. The start needed more buildup, and the ending, while serviceable, is a little... dull? Uneventful? I can’t really think of the word to describe it, but it feels like there should be more to it. If the story had been longer and her descent into madness spread out across a longer time period, it probably would have been a lot more impactful and interesting. As it stands, it’s the sort of short, headcanon-y thing I’d read and then forget about an hour later.
9443948
Fair enough, thank you for reading. I specifically wanted to try to write a shorter story for this, so it's short on purpose, but perhaps another setting may have been better for it. Thanks for the feedback!
I really want more. Fav
I liked this—the obsession over a meaningless pile of boulders is an excellent vehicle to show Chryssie's declining state of mind. I will say that having the narration flip between present tense and past tense so wildly made it hard to read at times. I understand why you've written it that way, but it was still tough to read, for me.
Also, this is the type of story that is begging to be expanded upon, don't you think?
Thanks for writing!
9439449 9439129 9439574
9439781 9441280
This story remind me of the time when Eggman had a mental breakdown within the archie Sonic comics like here.
This was a very interesting story! Great work showing Chrysalis's declining mental state. I featured this on episode 251 of my podcast, Pony 411.
9466889
Wow, this was a nice unexpected surprise! Thank you, I'm glad you two enjoyed it. I was a liiiittle disappointed with how it turned out, and my response was to write this other story, Silver Tears, which I felt much better about. I'm not really the self promoting type usually, so whether you check it out or not, that's alright. It deals with a different kind of mental illness, again told from the perspective of the sufferer, and I think is a much more solid story.
Either way, it's an honor to have been featured on your podcast. And also, I was in that same snow storm. Whew.