Retcon

by Beige

Chapter Sixteen - Prey

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“Hey Gurney.”

The griffon squawked, wings whipping out as he jumped. The wide, flat box he was holding tumbled to the floor. In the stillness that followed, the door he had been opening gently bumped into his flank.

“…Retcon?” he started, eyes wide. “You’re here?”

“Oh, uh, yeah,” she said sheepishly. “…Hi?”

Gurney’s expression shifted slightly a few times as he appeared to process her appearance. “I-I thought you had left?”

“Well, uhh,” she rubbed the back of her next, “I wasn’t sure… I needed some space, and… And I couldn’t leave my books, right?”

The griffon stared at her with his beak ajar. Just as she was starting to regret her choice of words, he snorted. “No, of course, we wouldn’t want you leaving your comics behind.” Turning to glance at his outstretched wings, he sucked a breath through his beak. “Ow.”

“Are you okay?”

Gurney gave his wings an experimental flap, then folded them against his sides. “Yeah, I think I just hit the doorframe,” he said, leaning to pick up the box off of the floor.

“Oh, sorry.” Retcon gestured to the box, concerned. “That’s not dangerous, is it?”

“No, it’s fine, it’s just pizza.” He opened the lid, revealing a few folded slices of food bunched up together at one end. The lid read ‘Jubilee Pizza’ on the top. “Huh, the mushrooms fell off, but we’re good.” He held the box outward. “You want some?”

That’s what I want to talk about. Frowning, Retcon leaned forward, sampling the smell of the greasy food. The base looked like it was made out of the same material as the box, and it was topped with what appeared to be melted cheese and some form of red paste. She assumed the burnt-looking objects were mushrooms, since they were collected together away from the rest. It appeared palatable, so she gingerly took a slice with a hoof. “Thanks,” she said, eyeing it critically as she held it aloft by the outer edge, where it drooped sadly.

Gurney took a piece and closed the lid. “So, do you think you’ll be staying long?” he asked carefully.

Retcon watched as he took a bite of the pizza. Glancing at her slice, she took a hesitant bite of the thin end. It wasn’t very warm, but the depth of flavour surprised her for such a simple and plain-looking thing. It somehow tasted of warmth and comfort. “Mmh… I’m not sure. I need to figure some stuff out first.” She took a larger bite, savouring as she chewed. “‘Cos…” she began, talking through her food, “this pizza is great, but… I’m guessing I’m still going to be hungry later.”

“…Right,” he affirmed.

She eyed the remainder of the pizza sadly. It was delicious, but it wasn’t what she needed. “Gurney… Could you tell me…”

---

“How do changelings eat?” Gurney parroted as he sat down, dropping a thin folder onto the table between them. He flipped it open, revealing the familiar papers about her previous self; loads of small text surrounding those… sketches. Gurney flipped forward through to a small number of pages filled with an unintelligible scrawl. “Right, where do you want to start?”

Retcon frowned. “Umm… Breakfast?”

“No I mean, what about it do you want to know?”

“Ah, yeah…” She pursed her lips as she considered what might be more pressing. “…So, just ponies, right?”

Gurney tilted his head slightly. “Just ponies? You mean, can changelings get nutrition from elsewhere?”

“Yeah. Like, anything, y’know, not thinking.”

Gurney nodded once, slowly. “Sorry, the answer’s no. Old-you was pretty certain on that.”

“Mmh.” Thought as much. Worth asking. “So what does eating normal food do?”

Gurney turned back a page, hovering a claw over the writing. “…Yes, a changeling can consume most food that an omnivore typically can, but cannot metabolise it. Your digestive system isn’t all that different from mine, it just doesn’t… digest, for whatever reason.” He glanced up from the file. “You weren’t able to give much detail for why that’s the case, and we wouldn’t be able to figure it out without, y’know,” Gurney motioned from his neck down his chest with a talon while making a gross noise at the back of his throat, followed by pantomiming an opening-outward motion, “which, obviously, we’re not gonna do. My best guess is it’s a vestige of your evolution. Your ancestors probably used to be able to metabolise regular nutrition, but as you became more specialised into emotiphagy, you lost that capability. Now it’s a way to not get caught if an Infiltrator gets invited to a picnic.” He scratched his beak. “Just a guess. What it means is you can eat whatever you want, it just won’t do you much good energy-wise.”

“Right. So, I don’t need to ever eat normal food again?”

The griffin shrugged. “Pretty much, if you wanted.”

Retcon scrunched her nose. “Nah, food is yum.”

Gurney snorted. “Yeah you right.”

“And, when you say anything an omnivore can eat…?”

He grinned. “Yep, you can eat meat. Finally, I’m not alone out here!”

She sniffed. The thought was an uncomfortable one. Maybe she wouldn’t think the same way if she weren’t in the form of a pony, but it was hard to not think like one, given she had been one for as long as she could remember.

Alright, no more putting it off. Steeling herself, she drew a steadying breath. “So… how exactly does a changeling eat?” She felt gross asking that, but it needed answering.

The mirth left Gurney’s expression as he flipped to another page of notes. “It’s mostly passive. So, you can feel other ponies’ emotions, right?”

She nodded. “Not all the time. If it’s strong enough. It never really stuck out as unusual until… well, I get nothing from you. I guess this is what it’s like for everyone else.”

“Heh, pretty much. Yeah, that ‘sense’, or whatever it is, is the key to it. If you can feel the emotions, you can draw energy from it. It appears to be instinctive, like feeding chicks. But…” The griffon clasped his claws on the table, fixing her with a serious look. “Couple of things; first, it must be a positive emotion, the stronger the better, with love being the most potent. Y- Old you mentioned that strong negative emotions might instead sap energy away, but we didn’t run any tests on that.” Gurney flipped the folder closed. “But most importantly, the emotion has to be directed at you. You can’t just pluck ambient emotion out of the air.”

“Directed?” Retcon frowned. “How does that work?”

“It’s like…” Gurney tapped the side of his beak. “So if you were in the same room as a married couple, say; you might be able to sense their feelings for one another, I think, but you wouldn’t be able to get anything from that. You have to be the object of the emotion. I don’t fully understand the mechanism, but it appears to be how you form the energy link. That’s why the Hive’s Infiltrators tend toward taking an existing pony’s place, rather than just hanging out in the middle of town. You’re not a basking shark.”

“Wait wait, taking a pony’s place?” Retcon shook her head, leaning onto the table. “You said Infiltrator before, what’s that?”

Gurney paused for a moment. “…Infiltrators are kind of the food gatherers of the Hive. They take the form of a pony and live amongst them, occasionally for an extended period of time. Sometimes the form they take is novel, and sometimes they take the form of somepony who already exists for a short time.”

Retcon frowned down at the table. There’s always something else. It was all getting too much to take in over such a short space of time, and it was becoming hard feel any way about it at all. She just felt heavy. What next… “Did they kill the pony they replaced?”

Gurney pulled an odd expression. “Not that I heard. The idea is to leave as little an impact on the ponies as is possible. It’s how the changelings remained undetected for so long.”

And then the Wedding… “Was I an Infiltrator?”

“Yes, you were,” Gurney said gently. “It sounded like one of the most important and respected roles in the Hive’s structure. Then, after the Canterlot Invasion, it became impossible for Infiltrators to continue their work, since the ponies knew about the changelings. Too much suspicion.” His tone sounded sad. “Infiltrators were the primary source of energy for the entire Hive. There was no fallback plan if the Invasion failed. In desperation, the Infiltrators were instructed not to come back if they hadn’t gathered enough to share around. That’s when you came to us.”

Retcon blinked. “…Wow…” That’s… Wow. She hadn’t been sure what to feel about where she came from. She knew there would be other changelings, but given she was still trying to figure herself out, she had been leaving thinking about other changelings for later.

I guess that’s why I gave up my identity. Heck of a lot to run away from. “Um, what’s the Hive like now?”

Gurney shrugged his wings. “Last we know about it was what you said, and the last you had contact with it may have been two or three months ago. Maybe more. No idea. Though… you said you didn’t think the Hive was likely to survive, but that might have been hyperbole,” he added hurriedly. “We really have no way of knowing.” He pulled another expression, sort of like a half-smile but without being happy. “You’re the only changeling ever to willingly discuss any of this with us, with the ponies.”

No, too much… That’s too much… “A-are there other Hives?” she asked quickly.

“…Yes, I think so. But, you weren’t able to say much about them. It doesn’t sound like individual Hives are all that friendly.”

Retcon shook her head dismissively. Getting off topic. “Okay, so; me, pony… If I eat emotion, what actually happens, exactly?”

The griffin studied her for a moment. “…For you, or for the pony?”

“Uh, the pony. What happens to them?”

Furrowing his brow, Gurney flipped open the folder again, turning to a page right near the back. “Well, the emotion factor is the method for establishing an energy link, but it’s not actually the emotion itself that is consumed. The pony doesn’t lose love, for instance. Where’s…” He hunted down the page. “Yes, so the directed emotion bridges a link that allows for the transfer of energy from the… pony. The same energy any living being gets from food. After a while, the pony in this equation would experience tiredness, like they’d had a long day or done a lot of excercise. After tiredness would be a feeling of weakness, nausea, and exhaustion, in that order.”

“I see…”

He glanced up again. “Though that would be from extensive feeding. Normally it’s just a slight tiredness. Obviously, we haven’t run any tests that went that far.”

Retcon waited, expecting Gurney to continue. “…Is that it? It doesn’t hurt?” So I could get energy without anyone knowing... That’s still stealing, but…

“Well… no, that’s pretty much it. It’s just energy, nothing that can’t be replaced. That’s why Lemony was having scheduled days off.”

Lemony. The name felt like cold water. “…She volunteered, or something?”

“Yeah, she was one of three who initially volunteered to, I guess, donate energy. You weren’t able to get anything from the others though, so Lemony has been shouldering the role by herself.”

“…W-why-?” Retcon cleared her throat. “Why just Lemony?”

Gurney rubbed the back of his neck. “Well… like I say, the emotions need to be directed, and… let’s just say that the Invasion has given changelings a bit of a reputation. Lemony genuinely likes you, and that lets you,” he waved a claw, “you know. Eat.”

Sheesh, make me feel worse… Her stomach tightened. I wish I could make it up to her, but there’s no way she’ll want to speak to me again. She sniffed. …Probably best.

Gurney pressed on, “When it was decided you would be retconned, all non-essential staff were sent home, so most of them have never met you. That way they could get to know new-you without bias.”

“And they all agreed to that?”

“Eh, mostly. A few said no, they’re going to be staying away until you leave, or unless something comes up. Um, sorry, but y’know, most of the Institute were there during the Invasion.”

“Yeah, I heard.” Stupid Invasion. Retcon rubbed her forehead with a hoof. “Ugh, this sucks.”

Gurney grunted non-commitally.

“So that’s it then, that’s how I live?” Retcon felt too weary to be angry. “I get somepony to like me, then I can drain them?” She dropped her head to rest her chin on the table, not caring how she looked. “I’m really not comfortable with this,” she mumbled.

The griffon regarded her with a serious look. “No one is. But this is how we get energy in you and we really don’t have many options.”

Retcon could help but look away. “Sorry...”

“Don’t be.” She glanced back to Gurney, surprised by his sharp tone. “Really, don’t.”

She felt her ears fold back against her head. “I don’t wanna hurt anypony, Gurney.”

“Good, glad to hear it. But this is how you get food, it’s a fact of life and you can’t change it. All you can do is the best with what you’ve got. Never apologise for what you are.”

The sudden shift in the griffon’s demeanour was unexpected. That’s not Gurney. “Who told that to you?” she asked gently.

Gurney blinked owlishly at her, the intensity draining from his expression in an instant. After a moment, he snorted, a ghost of his cocksure grin returning. “My sister, actually. Carnivores and herbivores don’t mix well, and…” He sighed, glancing down as he fiddled with his talons on the table. “Well, you know ponies, they’re a real kind-hearted bunch, on the whole. But instinct is hard to outgrow. There are some who… who are less thrilled about meeting meat-eaters.” He locked eyes with Retcon, though his expression was gentle. “You were kinda scared of me first time we met.”

She felt her face heat up, realising where he was going. “Yeah, I guess.”

Gurney nodded. “And…?” he prompted.

“And you’re not all that bad and won’t gut me like a fish. I get it,” Retcon huffed.

The griffon’s expression turned smug. “And what did we learn?”

Scowling, Retcon crossed her forelimbs and turned away.

“What we learned,” continued Gurney in a softer tone, “is that it doesn’t matter what you are. Once upon a time ponies ran from griffons, and griffons would kill ponies for food, or just for sport. That was centuries ago, but it was a deserved reputation.” He smiled kindly. “Ponies only know changelings from the Wedding, and yeah it’s a bad start, but you’ve got a chance. Plus, you can blend in, you can get them to know you.”

Retcon stared blankly ahead. It was a lot to digest, and she wasn’t sure she agreed with all of it. “I… don’t really have words… for you.”

“That’s fine,” Gurney shrugged his wings, “you don’t need to. Oh, speaking of, do you… know if you’ll be sticking around? I mean if you want to leave I’d understand but…” he trailed off.

“Uh, I’m not sure. Maybe for a bit?” Probably. Don’t really see where I could go just yet. Maybe I could go along with the original plan.

Gurney nodded, rifling through the folder to another page full of text. “If you’ve got the time, I could run through some transformation magic. Otherwise, you might want all this copied out in someone else’s writing.”

Retcon grimaced. “Uh, no, I think I’m good thanks.” She lifted an olive wing in demonstration. “I like this.”

Gurney paused. “…You don’t want to know how to transform?”

“Not really.” A bit. Could be useful. What if- Then the image of the blank-eyed creature in the drawings came to mind. “No, this is who I am now.”

The griffon’s expression changed. “…Alright then,” he said uncertainly. “You probably should anyway, but… Well, you know where to find me.”

She nodded. “Yeah.” Maybe.

Gurney shook his head. “Anyway!” He closed the folder shut. “One last question?” Retcon nodded. Gurney smirked. “What’s your favourite colour?”

“Favourite… You asked me that before,” she realised.

“Yep. Had a chance to think about it?”

“Uhh… Maybe green, I guess?”

“Huh, very interesting… Because of…?” He gestured in her direction.

She glanced up, cross-eyed, at her hairline, following her messy forest-green mane. “I just like green.”

Gurney nodded. “Apt. It’s also a signature colour of the changelings.”

Retcon scowled at that. Great.

“But what’s interesting is that it used to be pink,” Gurney continued. “That’s the answer you gave before the memory wipe.” He cocked his head to one side. “I wonder what that says about who you are now.”

Comments

[dark_samus3]

encoding: decimal
message: If you return with nothing again, then we shall rid ourselves of a useless drain on our resources.

[RoboRed]

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I f y o u r e t u r n w i t h n o t h i n g a g a i n , t h e n w e s h a l l r i d o u r s e l v e s o f a u s e l e s s d r a i n o n o u r r e s o u r c e s .
This kinda matches up to part of the context of the chapter. I wonder if Retcon's parting with the hive was known and less than amicable, because earlier I was getting the impression that it was done in secret.