Day 10 - Just another busy day: 7/7
“Miss sporty” returns to the laundry room, only to find 99380 rolling on the floor while leaving marks of red dust all over it, and making “whoom whoom!” sounds with its mouth.
“Wha-?” she freezes, unsure whether to laugh or call for help, “Little guy?”
With a twitch, 99380 stops, sits up, and beams at the griffoness as if nothing weird ever happened.
“Welcome back, Miss sporty!”
“What were you doing just now?” she asks slowly, “Aside from leaving red stains all over the place.”
“I was watching the laundry like you said, and it went round and round… and it looked fun so I tried to do it too. Anyway, I’m glad to report that no one tried to steal anything and I didn’t need to push the button!” 99380 salutes before furrowing its brows and examining its hoof, “Is that how 65536 does it? Something felt off…”
The griffoness shakes her head before offering 99380 a large, plastic cup.
“This is for you. I’m not sure how it is with changelings, but for us it’s crucial to remain hydrated after running around in the sun for as long as we did,” she says when 99380 sniffs the cup, “It’s just cold lemonade. I like to get something sweet for myself after exercising,” and adds while tapping on a sports bottle hanging on a strap around her neck, “I’ve got mine here.”
99380 doesn’t need any more encouragement to take several gulps and immediately regret it as the brain freeze hits.
“Head hurties! Head hurties!” it hisses, putting the cup down.
“You’re drinking it too quickly,” the griffoness sits down on the bench, carefully stepping over the red dust on the floor, “Are all the changelings weird like you? I think I saw one of you explode over and over recently too.”
“That must have been 99526,” 99380 nods, rubbing its head, “I’m kinda the slower one of our group. 10013 said it was because I could do hive mind stuff on the inside better than the others but at the cost of not being that good with stuff outside of my head, and it was right!” the drone beams, the perceived lack of intelligence not bothering it in the slightest.
“You don’t mind being called slow in the head?” the griffoness shoots it a surprised look.
“Hmm?” 99380 blinks at her several times while quietly processing, “No? Why would I? 10013 was right and it helped me figure out what I was good at. Besides, down in the tunnels back home you can’t always be thinking, you’ve got stuff to do. And when there are a bunch of spiky biters chasing you, thinking only gets in the way. You have a long tunnel ahead of you, baddies behind you, any drone would take speed over thinking.”
“Oh…” the griffoness pauses, “So it’s not an insult? For us, being called stupid is always an insult.”
“I guess it’s different on the surface,“ 99380 shrugs, “Nothing keeps trying to eat you all the time so maybe you have time to think, but with us it’s… not that important, I guess? Someone is faster, someone is stronger, someone is smarter, that’s just how things are. For example, 10013 is very smart and that’s why it’s the leader here. Plus, it got its rank during the bad times when high ranks ate us for fun which means it went through much more than most others and had to be smart because running away or fighting wouldn’t work.”
“Ate you…?” the griffoness stops drinking and just listens in fascination.
“Yup, the veterans said things changed a lot after the hive tried to take over some big pony city and failed. It’s a long story, but things were supposedly really bad before that, and there are only a couple of drones who lived at the time,” 99380 scratches its head, “Huh, 57999 and 47989 are back home but all the others are here. Anyway, as I said 10013 is the smart one. 36658 is pretty strong. I mean, not as strong as 65536 but it’s got pony guard training so that’s different.”
“Whoa whoa whoa, a changeling is working with pony guards?”
“Mhm! It’s a long story too-”
With 99380 recounting what it knows about the stories of the others with audible respect for the horrors the old drones went through, the laundry hour just flies by.
***
36658 returns to the workshop after the negotiations. With the point lead returning to the “fanatic” side, the work it was forcing itself to do for Trixie before doesn’t feel that relevant, but running off without explanation other than “hive issues” is still gnawing on 36658’s mind.
“I’m back, Miss Trixie,” 36658 approaches the blue unicorn relentlessly working on what looks like three chemistry projects at the same time, “Sorry for running off like that.”
“It’s f-” Trixie nods without even looking at the drone, fiddles with something that 36658 doesn’t understand, and a small puff of black smoke suddenly bursts out of a vial on a burner that she’s not concentrating on, “-uuuuck!” she immediately levitates the vial up and begins examining it.
The explosiveness of the situation makes something click in 36658’s head, and it speaks up again:
“Miss Trixie, did you get in any trouble after the ship sank? You know, with everyone thinking we blew it up and you actually having all these boom bottles and fire makers?”
“Of course both the Paladins and those Quest Security idiots questioned me,” Trixie rolls her eyes and empties the vial into a metal bucket by her trio of workbenches, “It took me nearly two hours to explain to them the difference between thermobaric explosives and Celestia-damned fireworks,” she looks at 36658 seemingly waiting for her to continue, “I’m not doing that again.”
36658 wibbles. Its heart isn’t in it, but the basic effect is there.
“Fireworks are bright but don’t explode with enough pressure or heat to rip open the reinforced hull of an ex-military cruise ship. Neither do the mines I secured my cabin with. Both can rip a fetlock off, but that’s about it. Besides, all the stuff I’m using to make the real fireworks for the show tomorrow is what you changelings helped me carry all the way from the port back here. I sure as hay wasn’t hiding it inside my ass while on a lifeboat. Now, please please please leave and let me work. That little… chemical miscalculation cost me two hours of time and I’m going to need some sleep today to lower my chances of blowing myself up during the show,” Trixie is completely focused on messing with the chemistry equipment, “No, I don’t need an assistant anymore,” she adds after not hearing any hoofsteps.
“Understood, Miss Trixie,” 36658 nods, “I’m looking forward to your show of shinies.”
“Mmmmhm.”
“Oh!” an idea comes to 36658’s mind, “Do you know where I could get some quartz dust?”
“White, hard rock in the storage. Belt grinder it in the corner,” mutters Trixie.
“Thank you!”
Finding samples of quartz is fairly easy and after getting increasingly annoyed “Yes!” from Trixie upon asking her if it found the right rock, 36658 sits down by the machine in the corner, turns it on, and starts experimenting.
***
“Good to see you again, sharpshooter!” the griffon overseeing the shooting range calls out as 99380 enters, “And you brought a friend?” he adds with a sudden smirk.
The range is empty and quiet this late in the afternoon, as most resort guests seem to prefer spending evenings by doing more social activities. Even the griffon instructor is busy taking stock of the inventory rather than practicing.
“Hiii!” 99380 waves back, entirely failing to decipher the griffon’s smug expression, “That’s Miss sporty! We played with balls together, next I guarded her underwear so that no one would steal it, then we took a shower because I was all sticky, and now I wanted to show her the big boomsticks!”
“Hnnnnngh!” the instructor’s eyes bulge and he starts choking on his spit after letting out a barking laugh.
99380 runs over to the large griffon and starts shaking him, succeeding only on pushing itself around.
“Miss sporty, what do I do?” 99380 calls out.
The blushing griffoness unfreezes, runs over with a frown, joins her forelegs into one fist, and smashes the instructor’s back.
“Whuh?” the violent act surprises 99380 who looks up at her. However, the instructor stops choking moments later and, after some wheezing, finally stands up straight.
“Don’t say a word,” says Miss sporty.
“Fiiine,” the instructor chuckles to himself, “But this will make a good story for one evening of playing cards with the boys, and you can’t stop it.”
The griffoness breathes out a defeated sigh.
“Why did you hit him, Miss sporty?” 99380 sits down, its eyes darting between the two griffons. The situation feels okay so the big smack must have been… useful?
“If someone’s choking on something it can help if you hit their back in the right way,” is all she says, “Anyway, we’re here. What did you want to show me?”
“...his boomstick…” mutters the instructor.
“Emperor damn it!” she facetalons.
“Mister shooty is right, though!” excited 99380 jumps back on all fours, “You said you liked games where you had to concentrate and shooting is totally like that,” it darts over to the instructor, “Can I show Miss sporty some boomsticks?”
The instructor looks at the griffoness now examining a small-caliber pistol hanging on a wall rack with a mix of worry and distaste.
“I guess a chick interested in firearms isn’t the weirdest thing I’ve seen around. Sure, no one’s around due to some event on the yacht so feel free to try out anything you want, although the girlie looks like she has even less experience than you do, buggo, so always let me demonstrate first and start off with something small.”
“Yayyy! That way we all can do some shooting,” 99380 waves both forelegs in the air, drawing the looks of both present griffons, and its genuine excited enjoyment thaws Miss sporty’s frown, which emboldens the instructor to walk over, take the pistol she’s been examining as well as a small box of ammo, and lead everyone to a firing lane.
“Alright, sharpshooter. Show her how it’s done!” he loads the pistol and gives it to 99380 who hops onto a stool and aims.
Something feels off, but 99380 can’t put a temporarily grown claw on it.
It pulls the trigger.
Instead of hitting the bullseye, the bullet barely grazes the target.
“Huuuuh?” 99380 looks at the pistol, at the target, and at the pistol again, “What happened? I aimed it just like before.”
“Your form was terrible,” says the instructor openly, “Your foreleg just flew up as if you weren’t keeping the pistol steady at all. You can’t tell me the perfect shooting last time was just beginner’s luck.”
“Oooooh!” 99380’s eyes go wide, “I think I got it! This new carapace design that 10013 and Mister Shiny made makes it much easier to move but I think I can’t handle the big boom so well. Let me try again,” one whoosh of green fire later, 99380 aims again and hits a perfect bullseye, ”Yup, that was it. You try, Miss sporty,” it waves at the griffoness to draw her attention over the mufflers on her head.
She barely hits the target and squints to see how far off she hit. As the instructor leans in to say something, she raises a talon to stop him, aims again with both forelegs, and hits much closer. Afterwards, she takes her ear mufflers off and so do the other two.
“So, what do you think?” 99380 keeps smiling.
“Do you have anything bigger?” she looks at the instructor, “Preferably something shoulder, uh, propped?”
The instructor chuckles at her choice of words but heads off to the back wall.
“I’ve got some proper combat rifles here that aren’t available outside of the military,” he looks around the empty range, “This might be the best time to try those out. Alright,” he winks at 99380, “let’s put some bigger holes into those targets!”
99380 pokes the griffoness.
“Holes? Yesss, let’s make more changelings!”
***
Zemi is the one who drew the short straw for a bodyguard duty for the evening, but it’s not as if she was expecting to do much more than sit near 1313 and Zamira, or in this case to sit on a bench outside the hot tub room. The wooden panelling and red carpet do wonders to muffle any hoofsteps or potential sounds coming out of the hot tub booths, so Zemi feels practically alone in the building, which definitely isn’t the case judging by the red squares above each door in the hallway. However, all these perfect prerequisites for sneaking around manage to do is give one approaching target two steps after rounding a corner before she notices them.
Or more correctly - it.
Smiley’s uncharacteristically scrunched and thoughtful expression brightens up immediately as it notices Zemi, and the Silent trots over, leaving behind a trail of muddy hoofsteps. As Zemi stands up, Smiley sits down on its haunches and raises the tablet on a string around its neck.
[qak!]
“Umm, hello to you too?” Zemi takes a wild guess at what the message is supposed to mean.
Smiley lowers the tablet and turns it towards itself, examining it for a while after its enigmatic plan of approach seems to have failed. Zemi uses the time to knock on the door of the booth, peek inside and, after a brief exchange of words, return to Smiley who is now smiling at her, with a [helo!]
“Hey, you… Smiley, right?” Zemi points at the muddy trail, “I’m not sure what you want and the Baron and Za- Baroness but-”
[banana?]
“1313 and Zamira,” Zemi corrects herself and Smiley stops fiddling with its tablet which the zebra takes as… a good sign, “They’ll talk to you but you must go and clean yourself. Showering isn’t a changeling strong side, is it?”
Smiley tilts its head. Zemi walks past Smiley with a sigh.
“Nevermind, follow me. There are showers by the entrance because they can’t let anyone just come in and muck up the hot tubs, much less ruin the carpet like you did,” she looks back at Smiley probably pondering what she just said, and adds again, “Come!”
For a second Zemi ponders if her commanding tone wasn’t too sharp, but Smiley perks up upon hearing a simple, clear order and immediately takes its place by her side without any sign of complaining.
One uneventful shower later, Zemi knocks on the door of the booth with 1313 and Zamira and lets Smiley inside.
“Is there any trouble?” asks 1313, “Why did you want to see us?”
Smiley rubs its head and writes down:
[qak!]
“What?” 1313 raises an eyebrow and instinctively attempts to skim the surface of Smiley’s mind, earning himself a brief headache.
“Quack?” the corner of Zamira’s mouth curls up, and she bursts into a full grin when Smiley nods and happily waves the tablet with [qak!] again, “Oh get in right now, you little ball of weirdness!” she grabs Smiley’s foreleg and pulls the Silent into the hot tub.
With water up to its chin, Smiley tastes it with a quick lick before a spark of curiosity rises in it and it pulls its tablet above water. The tablet is, obviously, blank. Smiley looks at it, pulls a small piece of goop out of its leg hole, holds the tablet up with one foreleg, and scribbles on it. When it’s done, it hides the piece of goop again, but that requires both forelegs and the tablet flops into the water. When it pulls it out again, it’s blank one more time.
Smiley wibbles. When nothing happens, it lets out a long wheeze before pawing at its mouth.
“At least we can safely say it understands that the tablet is its means of communication just as the mouth is for others,” comments 1313, immediately receiving a bonk on the head from Zamira, “Huh? What did I do?”
“Little guy’s sad, don’t go all analytical now,” she frowns and pulls Smiley towards her, “Come here, Smiley. You don’t need a tablet to get a hug.”
“You manipulative little critter,” 1313 smirks and leans back against the wall of the tub, “New infiltrators could learn from you.”
“Oh shush,” Zamira chuckles and sinks deeper into the water as well with Smiley held against her barrel like a plush toy.
1313 watches his wife cuddle the Silent without saying anything, but the analytical part of his mind is working no matter what. Smiley wasn’t manipulating Zamira, but it deliberately came to them hungry and is now feeding. Definitely not the behavior of a tool anymore.
“You’re smarter than you look, aren’t you?”
*Puzzled face.*
“I’m happy you’re getting better.”
*Happy face!*
***
“99526, are you busy?” Chrysalis’ voice emerges in that particular drone’s head.
The drone who, until now, has been casually strolling around the resort starts trembling. The Queen is asking specifically for it? And after blowing stuff up and getting locked up in GIL?
“Helloooo, is this thing on?” Chrysalis gives it one more shot.
“Meep meep meep meep meep!” 99526 looks around.
“STOP MEEPING AND GET OVER HERE!”
Back in the bungalow, Chrysalis rolls her eyes, puts down a strange, hoof-held device projecting an easily readable page covered in writing into the air above it, and gets up from the sofa.
How to make sure at least some of them return from this craziness? The knowledge the machine provided us is vastly more valuable than all the drones here, but the experienced ones are still a resource I shouldn’t waste, especially 20100. Should I keep that one here?
No. The terms of the deal were clear and who knows if the machine can’t make this technical gadget explode remotely or something.
The problem is that with the exception of 36658, treasonous little drone that it is, none of them are cold enough to focus on what’s important. So… yeah, no need to second-guess myself. This is the only way I can help.
She pulls out two clear bottles she bought earlier out of the freezer and hides the knowledge device. Examining one bottle from all sides, she scoffs.
No, this won’t work. Drones mostly like sweets, and eighty-proof vodka isn’t exactly there despite the sugar content. Hmmm, how about some honey?
“Hey, 99526!”
“Yes, Your Majesty?” the drone almost drops like a rock as Chrysalis’ sharp voice speaks up in its head mid-flight.
“Get a bottle of honey on the way,” she pings a place on the resort map, “This shop. Tell them to mark it up to me personally.”
“On the way, Your Majesty!”
Chrysalis sets the small table on the bungalow’s veranda looking out into the sea, preparing a glass and a small bottle for herself, and the two large bottles for her “guest”.
99526 knocks on the door less than five minutes later with a large bottle of honey held in its forelegs and gasping for breath.
“I… got it… Your Majes… ty! And myself…”
Chrysalis levitates up the honey and walks back inside.
“Follow me,” she says, “and calm down. You’re no use to me if you pass out right now and we’ll need you in top shape for tonight.”
99526 does as instructed and sits down into the woven chair on the veranda shortly after while Chrysalis pours herself a drink and does the same for 99526 but with added honey.
“What is that?” the drone sniffs its glass.
“Something for you to drink,” says Chrysalis, sitting down as well and stretching her hind legs so that she can prop them against the veranda’s railing, “Just don’t absorb it. That wouldn’t end well.”
99526 downs the entire glass before shuddering.
“W-w-w-wow!” it says, “That tastes super weird. Sharp, but the sweet part on the bottom was super nice.”
“Good. It’s a little… potion I devised that might help you later. Speaking of which, do you know that all the others are trying to refill on love before the mission, although maybe not entirely knowingly? You’re the only one who isn’t.”
“Oh shoot!” 99526 downs another glass, “That’s smart! I should go do that t-”
“It would be so much easier for them if they weren’t so caught up in their silly little competition and just came to us for a refill,” she looks into the distance, interrupting the drone, “By the way, that’s the second reason you’re here. You drink what I prepared for you, I refill you, simple as that.”
“Oh? Thank you, Your Majesty!” 99526 has to use both forelegs to safely tip the big bottle over but manages to fill the glass eventually.
“And one more thing,” Chrysalis adds, “Since we’re supposed to be leaving the day after tomorrow and who knows how things will turn out, how about you tell me how you enjoyed being here? We have roughly two hours before the sun sets, so feel free to take your time and finish your bottles. Holes, if I might even let you taste my royal drink too.”
99526 looks at Chrysalis’ green bottle and sniffs towards it. It smells more like goop than its drink - minty mostly with the same sharp undertone.
“Will you be angry if I say I’d like to go home?” 99526 hides behind its bottles.
“I won’t, but explain.”
“I like it here, don’t get me wrong. The creatures are friendly, mostly, and nothing is trying to eat me, but there’s so much stuff to do it’s hard to decide where to go first, and everyone seems to be busy all the time so I never know if I’m bothering someone. There’s no clear worky time when I should let others do their stuff and no breaky time when it’s okay to talk to them.”
“So you think that going here was a bad idea? Answer openly, I won’t bite.”
“No no no no,” 99526 shakes its head vigorously and Chrysalis knows it’s not lying, “I’d like to do this more often but… for a much shorter time? I miss the guys back home and I know they’ll love hearing about everything we did here. Plus my hoofsies are itching for some proper digging.”
“Hmmm, I’ll think about it. Perhaps you could get a full day off to mess around every once in a while. Appleloosa is close to the Badlands, even though it’s a hole with nothing to do,” she taps her hoof on her chair, “And one thing - tell everyone they’re allowed to dig as much as they want during the mission, and anyone or anything they want. Even any griffons or machines trying to stop you.”
“Really? Buuut-”
“Yes, really,” Chrysalis nods, “You will be in danger, maybe more than back home, so you can’t afford to hold back if necessary. Besides, the griffons will be the bad guys and it doesn’t matter if you destroy any of the machines because the plan is to obliterate the whole laboratory anyway.”
“Huh… you’re right,” 99526 ponders the idea.
“Of course I am,” Chrysalis smirks, “Now, how about you tell me about the stuff you did on this trip? What you enjoyed and what you didn’t. This suppressor makes it annoying to read your mind and I’d like to hear your version of things anyway.”
“Sure, Your Majesty! So I liked the shippy time a lot-”
***
As the darkness falls on the resort, 36658 follows the pink beacon of love visible to any changeling and finds Shining Armor and Cadance sitting in a secluded spot near the sports area, looking up at the stars. Shining immediately stands up as he hears 36658’s hoofsteps in the grass, and Cadance does the same shortly after.
“Mister Shiny, Miss Cadance,” 36658 can sense their apprehension so it reaches for a pouch around its neck and pulls out two pony figurines standing on their hind legs with their forelegs and horns touching, “I just wanted to give you this as a thank you for recharging us a bunch of times and being overall nice to us without having a real reason to.”
Cadence beckons to the drone to approach, and telekinetically grabs the presented figurines complete with a base. The colors are spot on for both Shining and Cadance, there’s even a pattern on their bodies that makes them look fluffy from a distance.
Cadence pauses.
“These are beautiful… and also anatomically accurate,” her sudden change of expression makes 36658 worry a bit.
“I tried to make them as accurate as possible,” the drone nods, “Not sure what atomically means, but I gathered the memories of others who interacted with you and had a good look at you.”
“A very good look,” says Shining. There it is again, good words, not so good tone.
“Did I do it wrong?” asks 36658, “I put in as much detail as I could with talons. Maybe if I knew what tools to use and had time to practice first I could do better.”
“Shiny, it must just be some kind of changeling observation instinct,” Cadence’s unreadable expression thaws and she smiles at 36658, “It’s a beautiful piece, but won’t it melt quickly? I can refill it with love easily but I can’t keep it with me at all times. We travel a lot.”
“I know, but we recently learned how to make goop last longer,” 36658 forces a shaky smile back, “This isn’t the best mix but it should last about a week and it shouldn’t just immediately crumble or melt afterwards so maybe it’ll be something that lasts.”
“How did you make these without us posing?” asks Shining, “I thought you could only make what you see. Or is that just the painter’s thing?”
36658 chuckles.
“We’re good at seeing what is, but not everyone sees what can be,” it says with a wistful expression, “It takes time and the right kind of experience. 20100 will learn and so will the others.”
Cadence pats 36658’s head, revitalizing the visibly worried drone as much as she can.
“We’re stargazing, care to join us?”
To her surprise, 36658 shakes its head and finally genuinely smiles.
“I’ve got drone stuff to do,” it turns around, “Enjoy your evening.”
***
In the jungle, roughly halfway to the Black Ops camp, 99111 decides to test the communicator set deep in its ear while 99526 and 99380 keep looking around in case they’re being followed.
“Testing, testing, this is 99111,” whispers the drone, “We’re on the way and it doesn’t look as if anyone noticed.”
As if the replying speaker was directly next to it, 10013’s voice replies:
“I can hear you loud and clear, 99111. We’re ready and watching everything through 10101’s cameras. The griffons seem busy inside the laboratory so you shouldn’t be in any immediate danger.”
“Thanks, 10013. I’ll call you when we get there.”
Inside the separated part of the Silversmith facility, 10013 relays what 99111 said to 10101, the only one not hearing the conversation directly via a hive link.
The drones are waiting, and 10013 can’t help noticing that its legs are shaking.
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for some reason I have a feeling that the final battle with a dramatic outcome is approaching. Not just because all the drones said goodbye to the characters with whom they communicated.
Uhoh. Chrysalis has told the Drones, weapons free.
Shapeshifting into dragons or rocks dont make them lava proof,a nd I dont know how thermally foam insulating the best goop can be. Or if they can make enough of it to Colombiad shell Apollo ablator.
yoo new chapter!
so, how close are we to the end? is there still a lot of days left, or is this one of the last?
Well, that seems significant then.
It's like they almost intentionally try and say things in the most innuendo-sounding way possible.
Joke's on the instructor then, seeing 99380 doesn't currently have a "boomstick" to show.
99380 is just on a roll with the innuendos today, isn't it?
Trying to apply some liquid courage then?
I dunno what Appleloosa will think about suddenly being swarmed by curious drones all the time, but...does sound like it might be a worthwhile idea.
Whelp...I suppose the die is cast now. Only time will tell if it was a good roll.
Oh no, plot is going to happen...please Hammer don't hurt em
11608050
That's not entirely how that was supposed to feel, although a bit too. More like everyone gathering love so that they're ready for what's to come.
11608067
Baseline goop is not known for its fireproofing properties. More for its fire making ones.
11608071
The only answer I'm giving is that we're on day 10 of a trip that takes 14 days.
11608313
*Quickly hides MC Hammer in a drawer*
"Can't touch th-aaaaa?!"
11608312
- Really? Uhh, I mean yeees, this is all very thought through, planned, mastercrafted, perfectly designed, and with some thinking all the deep meaning can be unveiled.
- Drones are pure agents of fate. Sometimes fate is a dick, sometimes it's funny.
- That is objectively correct.
- Every drone has its innuenday.
- She specifically said not to absorb it. The weirdest thing about the situation, though, was me spending stupid amount of time on whether to use digest or absorb, because of changeling eating methods.
- Up to the point where drones start walking around in ponchos, brimmed hats, chewing tobacco, and greeting each other "Howdy, buddy! This tunnel isn't deep enough for both of us."
- Well, let's see if the wash-up can use his remaining scraps of creativity to conjure up something gripping. It sucks, I really wish the story was what I see in my head, not the faded shadow that's written down, but I guess that's where the skill requirement comes in,
11608789
Oh, you're doing a better job than you're giving yourself credit for, trust us--we're the ones reading it after all.
Is that strange? It's not like they're wearing clothes or anything.
11609383
This has always been kind of a weird point of MLP canon, but I think a good take is that it's kinda pervy to run up close enough to get these details, and more polite not to stare.
Anyway, I, with power vested in me by absolutely no one, declare this to be canon and modesty to be a thing until told otherwise by Lauren Faust herself!
Part of me is terrified that chryssi fed the poor drone alcohol to turn him i to a bomb later Dx
11630186
Despite how it looks like, she prefers the drones alive. But she certainly did it to... help with the distraction
11630565
To help make it's goop extra flammable?