• Published 4th Sep 2012
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My Little Behemoth: Friendship is more than Food - Kishin



Just because you're a 3-ton Changeling Behemoth doesn't mean that you can't have friends.

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Undeserved Payment Pt. 2

Don't you just HATE cliffhangers? XD

Sorry, here ya go. I think my monthly output has just increased tenfold by producing these chapters consecutively...oh my brain hernia (Yes, you can get those :P). Again, sorry about not writing for so long. RL stuff and finals have overwhelmed me.


Sleep is one of those things in life that has the most universal concepts, yet is the most difficult to explain in words. It has mystified the greatest minds in existence since the beginning of time. Starswirl the Bearded. Hoofsputin of Stalliongrad. And even the Princesses themselves.

Nopony was ever able to understand truly the properties of sleep and its erratic symptoms: sleepwalking, narcolepsy, and even the ability for the normal Equine body, though their consciousness has shut down completely, to avoid suffocating their own newborn filly or colt with their own bodies during sleep, or even the ability to wake up to familiar namesakes, like one's own.

And that was exactly what Cyr experienced himself. Again, his life interrupted by the befuddling principles of the universe.

"CYR!"

His ears twitched and eyes snapped open. The voice had a slightly gruff quality to it, despite its high-pitch, and he didn't like what had occurred during his slumber. But then again, who would want a giant arthropod attempting to devour the fillies you were suppose to be....well, foal-sitting? He snapped to his hooves and collided with the predatory insect bothering the foals. The Scorpio chittered its warning cry and warily staggered back to striking distance. Cyr noticed two blots distancing themselves quickly towards the schoolhouse, a sickly pink and a solid gray silver. Hopefully they didn't stay to watch the entire scene unfold.

Apple Bloom eased out, "We thought that Scorpio was you!"

"Members of the Worker caste can't disguise themselves."

"Why didn't you tell us you couldn't change?!"

"Just because I am a Changeling, it doesn't mean...actually it does-"

Another lunge interrupted Cyr.

"Fillies...I believe that you should enter your school. And do not tell a soul of this," decried Cyr.

Dinky was dumbfounded to the point of silence, so the foals didn't feel the need to quiet her.

The shrill voice of what Cyr recognized as Sweetie Belle's squeaked, "What about you?"

"What? This? A giant arthropod? This is foal's play, compared to what I've done. Go on now. Enjoy your day."

Bit of an ironic statement there, Cyr. Oh well, too late for regrets now.

"And as for you," Cyr, acting as a barrier advocating the retreat of the fillies, returned to the Scorpio, "I respect all living things, especially Ones of the Shell, but return to the forest-"

The Scorpio eagerly rubbed the pincers around its maw against each other, tracing the ground with its saliva.

"-or I will sit on you..."

The creature's response was a solid physical reaction: a swift swing of its stinger into the ground where Cyr was before he jumped back.

"So...be it."



At the moment the school's bell had rung, the tender Mrs. Cheerilee had entered her respective classroom, greeting the excited foals already seated, bundled with energy to learn of how utterly extravagant the world truly is.

"Why, good morning class!" She pronounced with a smile.

And her students returned with smiles, except for 6 nervous faces, "Good morning Missus Chee-

BOOM!

-ilee!"

And in the wake of the shuddering of the entire classroom, Scootaloo fabricated a false sneeze.

"Ah-choooooo! Whoops, sorry everypony. I didn't mean to sneeze THAT loud."

Scootaloo stared awkwardly at Dinky, who was looking just plain confused and frightened, Apple Bloom, and Sweetie Belle, shrugging that at least making an excuse, no matter how cheesy, would be better than nothing...

Especially what nothing would do to all that nothing that was going on outside.


Cyr breathed deep before dodging another slash from the Scorpio's formidable stinger, but to Cyr, the Scorpio was a nice change of pace ever since the "Canterlot Showdown". Albeit his losses over the years, he missed the jerky, fast-paced reactions, and the spikes of adrenaline pumped through his open circulatory system by his nine chamber heart. Spoken like a true "old timer", he agreed with the personal assessment that he "still had it", even with barely any love.

The stinger of the Scorpio wasn't the only problem Cyr had. The rough, rigid pincers of the Scorpio warned off Cyr from making a move inside the range of the stinger. Cyr blocked a swipe from the stinger with a hoof, catching it in one of his holes, and attempted to flip over the Scorpio onto its unprotected underbelly. But when Cyr had tried to enact his plan, the beast wrested Cyr's hold on the stinger with a pincer and slowly squeezed Cyr's forehoof. Cyr was beginning to hear the slow, rhythmic, yet haunting cracks of his exoskeleton being compromised.

Cyr retreated several hoof lengths back, massaging his injured hoof. Damn thing.

The Scorpio's uncoordinated slashes in the air, followed by the screams of friction its appendage brought forward against the wind, resulted in its stinger embedding itself into the befuddled remains of a glassy plain outside of a forest. Seeing his chance, Cyr rushed forward and bucked donkey-style the thick, shelled armor of the Scorpio, sending the mythical beast soaring into the air, its plunging stinger free from the ground with a patch of topsoil and grass clinging to its tip.

Deciding that it had better snack opportunities in the Everfree, the Scorpio scampered rapidly into the depths of the Forest. Its near immaculate essence of pride had been soiled on, and grudgingly sought to reclaim its glory somewhere else.

Cyr sighed with a mix of satisfaction and resigned emotion that can only result from looking back at whether a past action was really worth becoming injured for, and finally decided to plop onto the ground.

He silently and tenderly considered the nearly crushed hoof while thinking to himself.

That fight was mood-lifting and all, to the point where it even distracted me from...current issues.

But where does this put me? I'm still here, aren't I? And I have a feeling that the more this plays on, the more melodramatic I'll become.....and it's that scent again....

Cyr barely noticed the Changeling trail scent from the forest, among his heightened awareness of an out-of-place emotion of misery in the direction of the town.

I'll get to that later. For now, I'll just wait till-

Cyr unsuccessfully tried to stifle a yawn.

-I mean, sleep until the fillies arrive back.


It was nearing dusk, and as Celestia, with all her power, was about to accomplish her physical task of preparing for the night, Cyr had finished his respective task. He returned the somewhat nervous, but overall excited fillies back to Sweet Apple Acres, as he found asking where their individual homes were a bit....creepy, especially considering his ripe-old age of 417. And the slight awkwardness he had received from the pegasus called Scootaloo when he asked about the location they would liked to be dropped off at, and about their parents, made him uneasy.

Parents, huh? Who needs them? I grew up just fi-

Scratch that thought.

Cyr trotted off towards the fields alone, left to have yet another solitary moment of his life, as Flit decided to either tag along with the fillies or return home. Cyr banished his thoughts of concern and found himself wandering through the apple tree fields, a sight he had gotten used to quite recently, until he reached the barn. The farm structure was garishly decorated with multi-chromatic lights and containers having trapped fireflies. Cyr...couldn't take his eyes of of the sight. He felt the instinctive impulse of any sane (or alternatively insane) insect to draw himself closer...and closer....and even closer to the bright, heavenly, euphoric lig-

"Hey, you OK?"

Cyr snapped out of his trance, and twisted his head around the barn in search of the origin of the comment. There he saw a cream orange-coat mare with heavy saddle bags draped over her back.

"Yeah, Carrot Top, I'm fine. Just...let's get away from here."

Cyr took a daring look behind his shoulder at the lights, but shunned all previous thoughts of returning to the decorated barn. He would have to talk to Applejack about that...

"So, what's with the lighting? Some sort of celebration occurring?"

"Hearth's Warming Eve. It's part of the holiday festivities to dec- Wait. You never heard of it? Oh Celestia, I can't believe it! No wonder you act like you have a stick up your flank all the time!" exclaimed Carrot Top. She added sadly, "It's that time where you try to cheer up others at your own expense! Heh."

Cyr noticed the slight nuances in her behavior, and matching two and two together from the negative emotion from earlier, decided to ask, "So...what are you doing here?"

"Oh, just moving some of my stuff over to the barn...for a place to stay. Applejack said she wouldn't mind me using the guest rooms, but I insisted."

"What happened? Did you lose your-"

"Evicted. Rather not talk about it. Turns out managing a garden ain't as easy as it used to be, especially when everypony hates you for how well you do at a specific talent-"

"Don't say that. Really, don't," Cyr cut off. "Sadness out begets more sadness in to fill in the vacuum. Trust me, I know this stuff. I'm a Changeling, remember? And if things get tough, I'll be happy to help out. I did last time right?"

"That isn't necessary. Really, it isn't. Oh! I almost forgot!" Carrot Top dug around in her saddle, her hoof pulling out a heavy bag with its metallic contents clinking together.

"Here. You get a fair share of my profits since you did help out."

She plopped the bag of gold bits onto the ground and nudged it towards Cyr.

Cyr only stared at the bag, in utter shock and confusion.

"This...you....I....You really don't have to do this."

"No, I insist-"

"Well, I insist back. What am I gonna do with a bunch of bits? Ingest them for mineral supplements? Bathe in them? I'm kind of a member of a species being hunted down by all of ponykind. Your intent honors me, but you need them more than I do. I'm glad to have a...friend like you, but I don't deserve your kindness."

"It wasn't enough to make the payment, strangely. So, might as well use it for something else."

Cyr looked in the impersonal expression of Carrot Top's face. Something was wrong. Cyr could not only feel it, but he could also see it. Carrot Top's countenance was as frail and impassive as any sort of mask. She was hiding something.

"There...is more, isn't there? Come on. You can tell me. I once told you that I needed your consoling, that I had a necessity to let go of pent-up emotion through literal expression. But I'm afraid you need it more than I do. So go on. Tell me all your worries," Cyr whispered with a small, innocent smirk.

"You know, I've never told anypony this," said Carrot Top. "But my life is ruled by what others think of me."

Her facade began to crumble apart. "My name...it's only a simple label that isn't even close to its original meaning! I mean, Carrot Top? No, that's just a silly nickname! It's Golden Harvest. I can't even say it without feeling like it's the name of a stranger. Oh, and 'Carrot Top'?. That was just to make fun of my mane! My mane isn't orange, it's green. A sickly green that I dyed because others think that it is equally sickly to view. I couldn't bear to hear anymore mares around me saying how green is 'such an awful, awful color!'"

"Green is my favorite color..." Cyr lamented.

The mare smiled weakly, "Thanks for trying, but the damage is done. And you know how these things go. Once they find a reason to dislike you, they only couple your little quirks as something they consider with even more hate. Like how I got lucky during the harvest season, while others didn't..."

"Don't say that. So, some ponies dislike you. Because of appearance? Jealousy? Bah, shame on them. I'm sure not everyling thinks that. Besides me or Applejack, there have to be others that see you as a friendly individual."

"Well...there is one."

She thought of her friend that could be something more.

"Good," Cyr clopped his hooves together. "Focus on that one pony, or thing. Such memories bring happiness during the darkest of times. And don't ever think you are less than you are."

Carrot Top wiped her face with a hoof and hugged one of Cyr's hooves. "Thanks. For everything. I feel a lot better now."

Cyr could literally sense the love (the platonic kind) oozing from her body, but fought every impulse to consume it.

No need to alienate her, Cyr. The basic stereotype of Changelings already has everypony around here primed for angry hoof-pointing.

But...hopefully you won't mind me taking some of your negative emotion, Carrot Top. I don't think you'll be needing it...It wouldn't be unkind right? I mean, it benefits both of us. I get something to keep me alive, and she discards her sadness...

And that trail again...it's stronger than ever, even when I'm far from the edge of the Everfree...I need to get some help.

"Say, Carrot T- I mean if you want to be called that."

"It's fine," she beamed.

"You wouldn't happen to know where Applejack is? Or Twilight Sparkle?"

Carrot Top answered, "Oh, Twilight had to go to Canterlot. Her friends went with her, including Fluttershy and Applejack. Something about a test..."

"Then you have to do something for me," Cyr suddenly became sullen. Seriousness clouded his recent expression of support and encouragement.

"I have to go to the Everfree. Something suspicious is over there. If I don't come back soon, get a message out to the Princesses. No more secrecy. Say it's from me. Do you know what the fastest transit is?"

"I...I know a mare," stammered Carrot Top.

"Alright," Cyr nodded. "If you need any help from now on, head over to Fluttershy's. Ask that conniving bunny she has, what was it's name? Angel? Tell him that Cyr sent you. He'll give you assistance on anything you need, whether it be emergencies or agricultural assistance. I think I made my mark here."

"You're leaving?"

Cyr absent-mindedly stared at the darkening sky. "After this...I don't know. The future holds many things for us. We can only hope that it works out for the best."


The familiar stink of humus and organic cultures hung in the air as Cyr proceeded closer to the trail. Luna's orb had risen during his trek, and had aided his sight with its lantern glow while in the forest. But something was rather off. There was no sound, barely a whisper or a squawk. In fact, all forms of movement seemed to cease, the wind temporarily as still as a corpse.

From afar, Cyr heard a stray branch bend and snap.

A holed hoof of Cyr stomped into the wet earth in a clearing surrounded by a gamut of cliffs and stone. He stopped.

He chittered out in a rumble, "What brings you all here? Answer me! Or, face me like the spineless shells you are!"

Silence greeted him. It had been a compelling, yet repugnant teacher to Cyr over the centuries. And it was the last answer that reached his ears.

A boulder that could almost rival the Sweet Apple Acres barn in size dropped onto his noggin. Then another. And then another. Under the duress of such force, the aged rock had broken into fragments upon impact, surrounding the area and clearing with rubble and dust.

Among the fog of destruction revealed the glow of the eyes of Cyr's former kin, altered in strength by their Queen.

And among the fugue of eyes lay an emerald glow of Changeling magic, characteristic of a certain Changeling member of royalty herself that began to envelope Cyr's body.

Chuckles echoing from the darkness joined the glow of antagonistic glimmer of magic and insect eyes.

Author's Note:

Sorry guys, but I meant to finish the chapter on Christmas Eve, but...things came up.

As in certain people that wanted to play LFD2 at a certain time...

But Merry Christmas, anyways! Teh plot thickens! (and yes I did that on purpose).

And it may seem a bit rushed, but I have there are bigger things to focus on...as you had seen before.

Cross your fingers everything goes well for Cyr!