Interlude 2: Bits O' Stuff
For all of her life, one little centaur had dreamed of being someplace where she belonged. She had yearned to be accepted by her tribe despite the fate that had awaited her. It had been an unattainable dream, more elusive than the smoke rolling off the campfires. Her tribe simply did not see any value in allocating sparse resources, time, or effort on an individual who would not reach her majority. They had not been unkind about it; that would have taken effort. They had simply neglected her. She had been destined to die alone, unmourned, without even a corpse to mark her passing.
While she had been awaiting her fate, the unthinkable had happened; she had made a friend. Somehow, her place in the weave could no longer be seen. Her tribe had finally taken notice of her. Her tribe had cast her out. Now, she found herself at the mercy of the most dangerous creatures her tribe had encountered -- humans.
The elders had been adamant that the monsters must be avoided at all costs. Their cunning was renowned, as was their treachery. They ignored the voices of the land, the water, and the sky, defiling all for reasons known only to themselves. At best, they could be expected to hunt centaurs down like animals. At worst, they would spread their corruption to the tribe.
Licenta had had no idea what she was really doing when she had accepted the offer of her pegasus friend. She had been shocked to discover that Rosie and her sister Eva were actually humans wearing the skins of the winged horses. Shock had turned to relief when they had taken her in as one of their own. The most dangerous creatures in the world were treating her better than her own tribe ever had. At long last, she was where she belonged, but where she belonged was completely new.
Every sense had been bombarded with things never before encountered. Everything she experienced had threatened to overwhelm her. Her first friend had been her shield, keeping the strangeness at bay so that she could concentrate on one thing at a time. It was clear that she was finally out of the woods.
The first miracle had been the food. There was no longer any need to forage. There was no longer any need to hunt. There was no longer a need to scavenge for scraps. Food came ready to prepare in things that Rosie called "cardboard", "glass", "plastic", or "tin". The textures, the colors, the aromas, the flavors were a cornucopia of discoveries, wonderous and mostly wonderful. She still had her doubts about the brussels sprouts.
Of course, these changes came with new rules and new customs. Eating the salt directly from the small container on the kitchen table was not acceptable, nor was pouring a cup of it from the large blue container in the cupboard. That had kicked up a fuss among the adults, who had not known how to react to Licenta’s behavior. Luckily the school’s new nutrition expert had come to the rescue, and Licenta now had her prized possession . . . a salt lick . . . on a stick. Granted, it was more work than the small white grains, but it was all hers.
There was also the matter of cover. She was now expected to wear at least two layers over her torso whenever around others, and the coat she was expected to wear outdoors was an added hassle. These had seemed overly warm and scratchy at first, but Licenta had quickly come to appreciate the added protection, despite the inconvenience of seemingly constantly putting things on and taking things off. She now understood why the humans always wore clothing. She could no longer fathom why her own people were so firmly against the practice.
Her new life was by no means perfect. The rotary multitool was but one serpent in her paradise. She still shuddered when she thought about Rosie's father taking that infernal device to her hooves. It had not been painful, per se, but it felt like that mechanical banshee was going to shake her legs apart. Only Rosie's constant encouragement had kept her from fleeing in terror. Granted, her hooves were now polished to a mirror shine, but this was an experience that Licenta was not looking forward to repeating.
She was still ambivalent about the indoor rain that Rosie called "shower". It was not necessarily the bracing spray to which she had been accustomed. With a bit of adjustment, she could make it as hot or cold as she wanted. The first time, Rosie's mother and grandmother had kept things warm to the touch, and they had spent an hour with Licenta, scrubbing every square centimeter with washcloth or brush, commenting on the steady stream of mud that flowed down the drain.
Her life was nothing like what it had been. Licenta had food, warmth, and family. She was going to school and was spending her free time playing with Rosie and sometimes Eva. She had made friends with other children in her class, and they were accepting her more than her tribe ever had. She had so much more than she had before; the most important thing was something she had no idea how to put into words. She had a future.
Paperwork was nothing new for Mayor Mare; in fact, it pretty much defined her existence. Still, there was a rhythm to it that she had come to expect and cherish. There was a certain order and tempo on which a pony could rely. Budget reports came in on Mondays, Tuesdays were for reviewing the reports of the local services, Wednesdays were when she filled out the insurance claims, and so on and so forth. Today, however, there was an unexpected addition to her normal routine, something that normally wouldn’t come in this volume until springtime.
Scrunching her muzzle, Mayor Mare looked at her assistant and asked. “Did I miss something? What’s with all these herd agreements?”
His visit to the school’s healer had confirmed the worst; Dudley was going to die. He was sure of it. Every waking moment, he could feel something gnawing away at his insides. Slowly, painfully, he was wasting away. Despite Dinky's reassurances that things would turn out for the best, he was positive there would be nothing left of him. His visit to the school’s healer had confirmed the worst.
The potions that were being forced on him could only blunt the ongoing agony. He had nothing to look forward to but despair. The magical world was to be the bane of his existence. It would claim its pound of flesh and much, much more. It would claim his last breath.
Why had his parents sent him here?
Why would they expose him to such torture?
Did they really want him to waste away to nothing?
Crying had not moved the nurse. She had been unrelenting. His course of action was set in stone. His demise foreordained and inevitable.
The world was coming to an end.
After all, the word itself meant to die, even if it poorly disguised itself with the addition of a "t".
The unthinkable had happened. Bitter rivals, sworn enemies, had come together, not to battle for supremacy, but to address a common foe. The tension in the room had broken hours ago, leaving hopelessness and acceptance in its place. Doom was coming, and no one knew when or in what manner. Running wasn’t even an option; that much was obvious. It was only a matter of time. After all, only the government could make so many people disappear without a trace, and they could reach further than any present could flee. So, the many men and the few women in the room drowned their sorrows with liquid oblivion. They hadn’t seen the signs at first, but once pointed out, their impending doom was obvious.
Their competition was disappearing. It was an almost linear pattern. The bobbies must have been getting help from the new magical cops, and the resulting partnership was devastating. Those high up, once thought to be untouchable, had simply vanished off the grid. There had been no news of trials or arrests; they were simply gone. The government had gotten a clue and was no longer playing around. They had declared war and were turning out to be surprisingly efficient about it. The criminal element had sat up and taken notice.
There had been one gang that had decided to take the fight to the streets, refusing to go down with a whimper. They had planned. They had collected men and weapons. They had organized a morning strike that would have rocked the city and dominated the airwaves.
They had been next.
The attack never happened and no one knew what became of them.
They were just gone.
There had been no sign of a struggle. The men and weapons were just no longer there. They had been some of the most vicious members of the underworld, gathered in one place. Any one of them was a person to be feared. Many had connections and lawyers that would, at the very least, have delayed their incarceration.
They were just gone.
It was happening everywhere. It had to be the government.
Somehow, they had gotten properly organized.
The end was coming.
The end strolled into the room as if she owned the place. “Gentlemen, ladies,” she said smugly, swishing her long blonde hair to the side. “Thank you all so much for gathering in one place. This will make things so much easier for everling involved.”
Those present rose to their feet, brandishing their weapons of choice. Knives, bats, knuckle dusters, and guns -- lots of guns.
They would not accept their fate.
They could not accept their fate.
At the very least, this woman would not survive the day.
Knives were brandished.
Bats were hefted.
Knuckles were cracked.
Guns were cocked.
….
And yet not a single shot was fired.
Not a drop of blood was spilled.
Not a single scream was uttered
They were just gone.
Inspector Winston was at a loss of words. The situation was beyond horrible -- a walking horror movie, both literally as well as figuratively. It was enough to make you pinch yourself several times just to make sure you weren’t dreaming. It was hard to decide where to start.
Dispatch had dismissed the initial call as a hoax. It was that outlandish. Luckily, several of the local residents had air rifles and had taken matters into their own hands; otherwise, the death toll would have been higher.
It was bad enough as it was. The perp hadn’t discriminated with his victims. There had been enough blood spilt to fill a bathtub -- easily half of a neighborhood had become an abattoir. This should never have happened.
A small tin found its way into the inspector’s hand and he quickly popped an antacid into his mouth.
They weren’t even sure if the danger had passed. The magical bobbies had sent, for lack of a better term, a forensics team. The news from them was not encouraging to say the least. They could not detect any magic in the doll’s remains. There was no question that magic had been involved, but it was akin to a criminal wiping the scene of their crime clean of all evidence. No, that wasn’t true; there was plenty of evidence, bathed in blood. There just weren’t any leads. The wizards were just as upset as he was at the development. According to them, they had already destroyed one such menace and they weren’t sure what relationship this incident had with the last beyond small feet and a love of sharp knives.
There had to be precautions to take. A public panic was almost assured, but keeping this quiet would only ensure that repeats, if any, retained the element of surprise. Worse, the facts were annoyingly sparse, a direct inverse of the conjecture. The main suspect was some bloke going by the name of Lord Voldemort but that magical bobby admitted it was just an educated guess.
Then there was the whole chicken or the egg question. Inspector Winston was going to have to contact the movie studio with questions about the origin of the story. Were they copying the killer or was the killer copying them?
The common room was warm, cozy, and inviting, exactly what one would expect from the Hufflepuff domain. Clouded Hope was more than content. She had friends -- real friends. She had more food than she could properly handle. In fact, her entire hive had more food than they could consume. She was no longer required to send her harvest back via owl; the surplus would only take up valuable storage space. Having to learn to throttle her collection of love was an unprecedented hardship, one that she was only too happy to master.
Clouded Hope had made a mistake, though; she had started giving her excess to the humans. They had taken to the love honey like no one’s business, eating it on crackers and toast. Her disposal of her surplus had had an unexpected effect on her dormmates. They were emitting more love than they had been previously, so much so that it was getting harder and harder not to passively skim the free food. Clouded Hope was almost positive that the two pregnant upper-years were a direct result of the Hufflepuffs’ new favorite treat, leaving her responsible for Professor’s Sprout’s insistence that contraceptive potions be taken by all.
“Ghost!”
“That was old the first time you did it,” Angel Down remonstrated.
“Can’t help it.” Cherry Laurel replied. “What’s up?”
“I am.” Angel Down smirked.
“Yeah, yeah, you can fly.” The maid groaned. “You won’t shut up about that.”
“Don’t knock it until you try it.”
“Hello, earth pony here,”
“That doesn’t mean anything,” Angel Down said. “I’ve heard the princesses talking about flying earth ponies in Ponyville.”
“I’ve heard about that too,” said Cherry Laurel. “I’m from there, remember? Anyways, I don’t like the idea of crashing into the ground.”
“It just takes practice. Besides, the trick is to aim for the ground and miss.”
“I don’t have the time,” the maid said, picking up her mop bucket in her mouth. “Did you want something?” she said around the handle.
“A conversation,” Angel Down said. “Besides the princesses, you are the only pony who doesn’t run when they see me.”
“Which reminds me, the head chef wanted me to ask you to tone that down until after they get a new shipment of lard. Their supply is running low.”
“That’s not really my fault.”
“It took two full tubs to get that last diplomat out of the barrel.” Cherry Laurel snorted.
“She needs to go on a diet anyway.”
“I’m sure you scared a few pounds off of her.”
“Out of her, anyways.” Angel Down shrugged. “That mess she left on the floor wasn’t very nice of her, or sanitary for that matter.”
“Thank you for that, by the way.” Cherry Laurel pouted. “Who do you think had to clean it up?”
“You aren’t the only maid in the palace,” Angel Down said. “You should demand some assistance for these messes they keep telling you to manage alone.”
“I’m the only pony that will go near areas you’ve been spotted.” Cherry Laurel groused.
“I did try and help you with that.”
“And Frilly Duster is still upset over having to change all her records to reflect her white coloring,” Cherry Laurel replied.
“I fail to see how that’s my fault.”
“She used to be orange before you snuck up on her.”
“Oh . . .sorry.” Angel Down winced. “I was just upset that she was standing around doing nothing while you were picking up all those cabbages.”
“Believe me, she could tell you were upset.”
Pleasant Thoughts was walking down the street of her new home town with her daughter Crisp Lick trotting by her side. She had accepted a rather unique job offer. It almost seemed too good to be true. She was to open an office in this small community with the understanding that her services would be free of charge for all residents. In return, she would be provided a house and a set, comfortable salary. In truth, the salary was more than competitive compared to what she had been making. There was sure to be a lighter work load. After all, how many clients could there be for a psychiatrist in a small town? Her greatest fear was being unable to find something to occupy her sure to be copious amounts of free time.
The one downside was Crisp Lick being a little put out at being uprooted from the big city, but like all foals, she would adapt. The slower pace of life would be good for her. Pleasant Thought’s daughter had even forgotten her anger as the two of them explored their new surroundings. The ponies they met were all friendly and seemed happy that they were to be new residents.
The first hint that things were not going to be as smooth as Pleasant Thoughts had hoped came as a large shadow darkened the world around the mother and daughter. Before she could register the situation, three giant heads descended, only for one to rise, firmly holding her daughter in its mouth. Then, the mass of muscles was off, carrying Crisp Lick to her doom. It happened so suddenly and swiftly that it took Pleasant Thoughts several seconds to start screaming. It took several more before she started pumping her legs to gallop after the monster with dim hopes of recovering her daughter. It took seven more for her to realize that she was not moving from her spot. Then two more passed before she realized that one of the local unicorns was levitating her with an amused look on that sadistic mare’s face.
“Calm down, calm down,” the blue unicorn shouted at Pleasant Thoughts. “She’ll be fine.”
“What?” Pleasant Thoughts shouted. “How can you say that? Didn’t you see what that monster did?”
“Don’t worry,” said a mare standing behind a flower stand. “That was just Fluffy.”
“Fluffy?!”
“Our town’s truant officer,” added another mare by the flower stand. “You’ll get used to him.”
“Truant officer?”
“Yeah,” said the third mare behind the flower stall. “He still hasn’t gotten the notion that some foals aren’t supposed to be in school some of the time.”
“Ironically, the Crusaders have been playing ‘dodge Fluffy’ all day,” said the unicorn still holding her aloft.
“It is kind of funny watching him run through here with one or two of them in his mouths every now and then,” said a mare walking down the street. She shuddered. “I still don’t want to know what Sweetie was eating as she was enjoying her last ride.”
“I’m still surprised that Fluffy’s left head backed down after she growled at it,” said yet another mare.
“That filly is scary,” added a passing pegasus mare.
Pleasant Thoughts sighed and stopped pumping her legs. “I suppose I’m going to get a lot of the local foals as patients. I can’t help but think that must be traumatic.”
“Nah.” The unicorn holding her placed her back on the ground. “They’re used to it. So, you’re the new psychiatrist, then?”
Pleasant Thoughts nodded her head, staring off in the direction her daughter had been hauled.
“The foals have been making a game of it,” said the first flower mare. “They’re keeping score.”
“I’d be more worried about an outbreak of ophidiophobia if I were you,” added the second flower mare.
“Or pemmaphobia,” stated the third flower mare.
“That’s a rare one,” Pleasant Thoughts commented.
“Not around here it isn’t,” said a mare who had approached to greet the doctor. “In fact, I have the first appointment with you lined up for just that.”
A wall-eyed pegasus mare crash-landed into the clearing. "Well, that takes the cake."
Everypony else groaned.
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While this isn't a thing that I could find, I did find a salt lick on a rope.
So who does a psychiatrist go to when they need therapy?
I rather like these slice of life Interludes.
It's interesting to see what the side characters are getting up to.
That was not what I expected, hilarious, I love it!
I wonder if she will soon open some surprises in the black mansion.
I have a few more questions:
1) When Cadance read Harry's medical report, was it really Cadance or was it Chrysalis?
2) If she was Chrysalis, was she really mad at what they did to Harry? or was she faking it?
3) What happened to the male unicorn that was taken to equestria?
That case of pemmaphobia likely caused by a Pinkie party gone bad.
10894629
https://www.fimfiction.net/story/371039/88/magic-school-days/chapter-79-gathering-groceries-and-guts
It was great when it all began.
Here's some reference material.
https://www.fimfiction.net/blog/956028/unofficial-hazy-days-and-magical-ways-character-listing-interlude-2
https://www.fimfiction.net/blog/956029/unofficial-hazy-days-and-magical-ways-thread-tracker-interlude-2
That one maid really should be getting hazard pay or at least a 20% increase in her pay. Also Celestia and Luna really should look into getting a few more from Ponyville to even out the workload.
OK, I think this is the first interlude that I may have enjoyed more than the main story chapters, thanks to it spending so much time on Licenta, Clouded Hope, and Angel Down.
10894704
I think initially the Mane 6's service as a special strike team, impromptu diplomats, etc and being a buffer to the EverFree Forest was considered a bugetry justification for Ponyville, but now things are much more "exciting" in Ponyville. When ever the current "evil sealed in a can" Gets out it's Ponyville that gets trashed, not a major metropolitan city. I mean Manehatten or Fillydelphia never get flattened by giant monsters and even when Canterlot is attacked the property damage is much lighter than it should be. Ponyville has constant monster attacks, villian attacks and Discord lives there, Equestria's government must pour a lot into Ponyville's emergency relief funds.
10894627
This is not your mother's Chrysalis, given the behavior of Obvious Bait and her crew in the Human world this version of the Changelings clearly take a dim view on things that interfere with love, and I would think that child abuse would be at the top of the list.
Personally I'm wondering how long before the feedback situation with Clouded Hope causes the expected transformation we all expect to happen.
It struck me that not all criminals are sadistic brutes, though their moral compass might be lacking. With O.B. and crew on the job the worst of the worst are being removed, but that would leave the ones who would have no trouble stealing a car, but who would bring it right back if they discovered a child in the backseat and might even apologize.
Criminals are not all stupid. It might take time, but eventually they are going to figure out the new rules. Be polite, be considerate, do no harm. Robin Hood type crooks might even get a helping hoof from the shadows.
I remember one science fiction universe I read several books from that legalized Criminal activity, as long as it was done with style. They also considered Elvis impersonation to be an art form. Your classic master thief could even develop a fanbase.
Personally I want to see a changeling crew getting hooked on Batman comics, the earlier siver age variety in particular.
Who else got the Hitchhikers guide reference?
10894648
I had forgotten about that.
Yeah, that is one of the near constants across timelines: Sweetie Belle + cooking = RUN FOR YOUR LIVES!
10894627
I believe that was the real Cadance. Remember when Discord summoned Cloud Hope's mother to the Hogwarts? That one was Chrysalis. That same evening, she went to visit Cadance in the prison. At that time Cadance stated that she has been imprisoned for 3 days. So the event with 'Code to be determined later' was most likely caused by the real Cadance.
Wow, I had totally forgotten about Angel Down. Thanks for the reminder.
This chapter is pretty much exactly as advertised, thanks for all the updates on the goings on around the world of this story.
10894823
You mean when the changlings turn from good looking into those ugly monnsters ruled by thorax? Hopefully that won't ever happen. Honestly, I hated that part of the show.
10894594
Another psychiatrist. In fact, it's considered good practice for psychiatrists to get regular mental health checkups.
If you make this masterpiece in a paper book Ill buy 3
10894648
She was a regular baking fan?
10894970
I'm not a fan of that appearance, but the need to not be predatory was a good one. In that version. Not needed so much in this one.
As for the appearance considering how seldom the Lings in this universe spend in their natural form that won't be an issue. besides, why couldn't then retain their old form if they so choose. In my head cannon the only reason Thorax and the others stayed with that form was to avoid ponies running in terror anytime they went out in public.
10895006
I don't know. If another psychiatrist goes to Ponyville to help the first... Can two psychiatrists treat each other, or would that be group therapy where they hold each other and shiver while talking about what happened?
That is an interesting fear and I can totally see Ponyville suffering from it.
That poor therapist.
Id have thought that Psychatrists in Ponyville would go round in groups of threes.
10895224
You don't use ones that are treating the same people you are. This is because they will both have conflicts of interest and they are likely to have the same kinds of mental stresses as you do, (and thus lack an outsider's perspective). I have even heard of psychiatrists who specialize in treating other mental health professionals.
this chapter is a true work of art.
i really love the part with the little centaur i hope over time she gets to rube it in the Elders face.
10895308
I needed to look that one up
Cake should not do that!!!!!
I quite like Licenta and am happy things seem to be lookung up for her. Hope to see more of her in the future.
What's pemmaphobia? I tried googling it, but all I got were xenophobia and pennaphobia (fear of feathers)
Would that idiom even make sense to forest-dwelling centaurs?
See above. Not sure how much Bible study the herd got up to.
"Don't knock it 'til you try it."
—Cherry Berry
(Laughs in Ponyville.)
Lovely assortment of updates on various plot threads. I'm sure it'll only get crazier from here, despite Pleasant's best efforts.
10898015
Fear of cake, hence the groans.
10898756
Ah, okay gotcha. Now that joke makes sense! And I'm also an idiot. XD XD XD
10895739 They say the best revenge is to live well. And since she has warm clothes, good food, friends, running water, and saltsicles, she's going to get some really good revenge.
Then
Could you say that the honey of the changers has a minimum effect of aphrodisiac and an effect of increasing fertility? And since it is linked to magic, could I be cured infertility?
10904887
MSD chapter 91
10905145
I think you replied to the wrong person.
Another great chapter! Thanks for an update on Clouded Hope.
10894627
Another question. Where is Chrysalis now?
A theory I'm becoming fond of is that she's Dumbledore.
11174863
Releasing an imposter does fit their M.O.
Changelings cleaning criminals. I approve!
Ponyville, a experience to be had...
11450292
I am Batling
Teleported away? Vanished like items?
Most economical would be to put them in pods and harvest them until they are deceased I guess?
Unless Chrysalis has other uses for them?
11174863
Chrysalis is enjoying a stay at her highneighess Pleasure...she's locked up in a luxury suite in Canterlot getting a much needed vacation as Cadence rules the Changelings in her stead.