The Little Curiosities

by Comma Typer

Cocoons

They sit on a hill and hide in a bush: two changelings in black chitin and with hole-riddled legs. The prison below lies under their binoculars-powered watch. Night’s cover provides them another layer of concealment.

“Know what, Humerus? I take it back.”

“Take back what, Nastic?”

“Everything I said about stakeout: wearing you down, keeping you numb, so on. Maybe that’s true for the newbies, but we’re no newbies. We’ve got royal escort training while she was still our head—by the way, isn’t the Thorax from the other side a king? Anyway, I’d say stakeouts aren’t too bad. Adrenaline alone won’t save the day.”

“Psst! Someone’s coming up the hill! You think it’s her?”

A pair of ears first before the rest of the body comes into view: a red-maned unicorn with a knack for ladybugs judging by her cutie mark. A camera is slung around her neck, her gray green coat blending with the grass underneath.

Her gaze turns to their bush. “Your undying loyalty will be rewarded, my subjects. Follow me into the woods.”

In unison, “Yes, your Majesty.”

The two changelings don pony disguises, wearing cameras in imitation of the visitor. They trot towards the nearby forest, stopping sometimes to take good landscape pictures. Potential onlookers would be none the wiser. We’re just nature photographers! Nothing suspicious to see here!

A minute into the forest, there is no way anyone would still be on their tail. The disguises are shed in brilliant flashes of light, revealing the changelings’ true forms. The mare, in her transformation, shows her true height and her true figure: size larger than life, translucent mane and tail damaged with their own holes, punctured wings of shining fragility. A flash on her head bestows upon her a crown of jewelry and gold.

Her two subjects fall to their knees. “Our One True Leader, Queen Chrysalis!”

Her fanged teeth prop up a sinister smile. “I must apologize for the wait. I had to ensure that President Thorax”—the word rolls off with audible venom—“and his misguided lackeys became complacent enough with their spiels of ‘mercy’ to relax jail security.”

“The revolution against you was a horrible betrayal!” yells Humerus from out of the blue. “Now that this great magic Change has occurred, the tides turn in our favor! What is the next step to your royal restoration?”

Her irises shrink in focus. She notices that her subjects would never have her more human-like eyes, stuck with their more buggy and complex equivalents. “It is convenient that we are changelings now, yes? So we do what shapeshifting creatures do: shift our shapes. Infiltrate, disguise, deceive—covert operations and espionage taken to the next level! We will not need a battle in the open for, in the end, our enemies will battle themselves in their own foolishness.”

A growl is sent in the direction of her prison: her home for her post-revolution years, the years since the pretender Thorax took over as the leader of the Cambling Republic, renamed from the Grand Monarchy of Cambling from olden days.

“Thorax has led my people astray, the people whom my forefathers and foremothers have entrusted to me since the crown was placed upon my head! Instead of a caring mother who will do anything for her citizens until death do them part, they have in my place custodians and hirelings whose goals are exorbitant pay and reputation! The monarchy and its rightful throne must return—and, for your loyalty to crown and country, you shall be rewarded beyond measure.”

Nastic nods. To play such a part in returning something great, to hear his heart pound and see the future resurgence of the way things must be—“Shall we spread your word to the others?”

“Yes! Spread word of my freedom! Do not bother hiding my escape, for the prison guards will know eventually. Their so-called ‘freedom fighters’ shall have fear struck into their hearts.”

“But, where will you go?” Humerus asks, concerned.

“Substandard conditions and living on the run do not faze me. They are the cost of my noble mission. To be fair, sleeping in a monarchist sleeper cell will boost morale too.” A hiss unveils her forked tongue: a welcome addition in her arsenal of intimidation and terror. “Now, lead me to your hideout; that shall be our base of operations. From there on—“ a cackle ripples through the air “—we’ll make our move.”

The three changelings then fly off farther into the forest’s depths.

Comments

[redandready45]

Political reaction is always a bitch.

(Literally, in this case).

[FanOfMostEverything]

So we do what shapeshifting creatures do: shift our shapes. Infiltrate, disguise, deceive—covert operations and espionage taken to the next level!

Good to see the outside perspective means that Chrysalis will actually use the tools available to her rather than just bull through with brute force.

It's not good to see for the republic, of course, but you know what I mean.