10. What Creature Am I?
Bluebird watched as Grid Iron trotted frantically back and forth, parallel to the mirror that ran the length of the gym’s far wall. Under stress, this pony’s moods were really something; before the cadet had even had the chance to ask about this “lie,” Grid had once again boiled over with emotion. Eventually, his rate of speech approached comprehensible levels:
“—didn’t mean to lie to you dude I really didn’t, it just seemed so weird but also forgettable, like I could just ignore it and it wouldn’t have ever been a thing you know? And I didn’t lie to you when I told you that he was acting his normal self when you saw him, that he’s a showboat, he just gets ahead of himself, so that’s why it’s so uncanny that now he’s—”
“Hold on a second, Grid,” Bluebird interrupted. He kept instinctively reaching for his notepad, only to brush against his bare sides. “Just so we’re on the same page, you’re talking about Bon, right?”
Grid’s face wrenched up a little. “Yes.”
“Okay. Take a deep breath for me. All right? … All right. Good. Now, what is it that has you all wound up? You say you think something’s been off about his behavior? If it’s any consolation, I think Bon in particular—”
Grid cut him off mid-soothe. “I’m kind of an idiot about this stuff, so… so I hope you’ll just say I’m misinterpreting things, and probably you will, but… Bon. He has totally been coming on to me.”
Well then. Bluebird was already willing to wager there was no misinterpretation. Still, he treaded softly: “You think so?”
“Yeah! And believe me, if I can notice it, it has to be pretty blatant, right?
“Like, the first day we got here, out of the blue he invites me to sit down with him at the piano… I’m an earth pony! My hooves don’t even fit on the keys! He just had me hold his own hooves as he played by himself! And I know he performs better with his magic anyway so I was like, what’s even the point?
“And then last week, me and Bon were watching some movie in the projector room, and I’ll admit it was boring and all, but Bon just cozied up right on my shoulder and fell asleep… There were pillows right next to him! And I could only think, like, dude, wasn’t this the movie you picked out? And since when did you like chick flicks anyway?
“And then there was this other time, I’d just finished a tough workout and was wiping myself down, and he—oh, well you get the idea by now. I mean, you agree it just might be flirting, don’t you? Or is it just my imagination?”
Bluebird felt a newfound sympathy for Bon’s efforts. “I’ve been told I have an overactive imagination, and even I can’t imagine a world where that’s not flirting.”
“All right. I guess I just wasn’t totally sure.” Grid slowed down a little, then stopped his pacing. He pressed the crown of his head up against the mirror, his sweat-slick mane leaving a residue on the glassy surface. In the reflection, Bluebird saw a more somber expression as he continued, “Maybe I was being dramatic when I called it a lie. It only really clicked for me, after this latest bit tonight. You, uh, didn’t happen to tell him anything about what I told you, after you walked in on me and Girard?”
His lack of romantic inclinations, he must’ve meant. “No, not at all.”
“Right. Well, I only wondered if you did, because after Bon brought me my dinner tonight—if you can call chocolate-covered strawberries dinner, anyway—he started asking me some… pretty personal questions. For the first time, I guess, I told him what I told you, that I never felt any of that stuff, and probably never would. I told him friendship was more than enough for me.
“Maybe I just, always assumed Bon felt the same way? I’ve really never seen him take an interest in anybody at school… and you know, he even told me as much: I turned the same questions back on him, and he admitted he didn’t think love was in the cards for him, either! So what’s the deal with his flirting, then? It’s s-suspicious!”
As if formulating a response wasn’t hard enough on its own, Grid scarcely offered the cadet the time to interject, instead continuing:
“And y’know, I-I might have said something awfully edgy to you earlier today, about having a ‘word’ with the changeling, like I wanted to take things into my own hooves… and I’ve been walking around with these zip ties in my pocket! As if, if I found the changeling on my own, I would tie him up and do… well, Luna-knows-what.
“But in reality, well, have you ever seen those movies with the changeling villains? The ones where at the end the changeling goes hoof-to-hoof with the hero, but then the changeling transforms into the hero’s special somepony or whatever, and the hero just totally locks up and gets the tar beaten out of him? It’s so lame and anticlimactic but… knowing what I know now, I think I could just be dumb enough to fall for something like that!”
“You mean to say,” Bluebird said, finally finding an in, “you don’t think you could stand to attack ‘Bon,’ or rather, an impostor wearing his skin?”
“Yeah. Or Girard, or Zorn, or anybody! It’s just such a sick, cowardly feeling…”
“It’s all right, Grid. There’s no way to be a coward here. Standing aside and letting the authorities handle it is simply the smartest thing you can do. And, where it concerns Bon, I honestly think you have nothing to worry about—whether he’s flirting with you or not, I think you’ll feel a whole lot better if you just have an honest chat with him about it.”
Bluebird truly could empathize with the young athlete; undoubtedly, the combination of a changeling crisis, love troubles, and simple teenage hormones was a three-pronged assault on his psyche. At least, assuming the individual in front of Bluebird really was an adolescent earth pony… more and more, the cadet had to consciously remind himself he had a mission to do.
“Say Grid, while I have you here,” Bluebird continued, stifling a yawn, “is there anything more you can tell me about Gloria’s accusation earlier? About you supposedly not being in the kitchen when you said—”
“Hey, don’t call it an accusation,” Grid snapped. “I don’t hold it against her just for saying what she saw. Or didn’t see. Or maybe, thinks she didn’t see. Whatever.”
“You’re right. Bad choice of words. I’m just a little tired at this hour,” Bluebird apologized. “But, is there anything more to it?”
Grid rubbed his cheek. “No. I-I don’t think there is.”
Not very helpful. Bluebird thought he would turn up the heat just a little. “Hm, don’t think so? Surely you would know if it was just as Bon suggested, that you were reaching for something under the countertop? Or you would know if you stepped out for a moment? Don’t get me wrong, off the clock I’m not normally this nosy, ahah. I just want to hear your side of the story, while it’s just the two of us.”
“I don’t thin—I mean, I know I didn’t step out while cooking. I remember I was listening to music on my headphones the whole time. And… I know I didn’t reach for anything under the counter?”
Grid proceeded to curse under his breath; even he had heard the uncertainty in his voice. Without needing to be prompted, he attempted to recollect more carefully, rubbing his temples as he did so:
“I was just cooking my same quinoa I always do… the grains are in the top shelf, and the pans are in the thing by the sink… I wouldn’t have had to reach down for the silverware, and—Oh! I think I got it!” Grid’s expression brightened instantly as he slapped his forehead. “I made a protein shake!”
“Should’ve known there was an innocent explanation! … Right?”
“You bet! I don’t make ‘em that often since I like to get my protein from natural sources and all, but I definitely fixed one up! And dude, wouldn’t you know it: We keep the protein powder in the cabinets under the counter!”
Grid was happy as a lark. It was certainly the cheeriest Bluebird had seen him tonight, and probably yesterday, too. Bluebird smiled, sharing Grid’s positivity; not only did he manage to extract a pertinent piece of info, but he inadvertently helped lift the youth’s spirits, too. The tailspin that was Bon’s interrogation was still fresh in the cadet’s memory.
After a time, Grid’s euphoria started to settle. With a little levity mixed with a little concern, he asked, “Y’know… what do you think the changeling is even doing here?”
The cadet laughed. “Well, isn’t that the million-bit question!”
“Nah, I mean, like, still doing here? Why doesn’t he just give up and go home by now? For his own sake?”
He trotted over to his water bottle and towel before packing up the both of them in a nearby gym bag.
“Maybe I’m just being dense, but like, what’s his endgame here? Isn’t the Royal Guard gonna be here in a matter of days anyway to totally take control? Or was Big Guns just trying to spook the changeling when he said that?” He smirked at the cadet.
Bluebird locked up, stalled in thought. He was not at all asking a dense question, the cadet recognized: In this scenario, the only thought on the changeling’s mind should have been escape—not just from Pesco and Bluebird, but from the authorities altogether. It was an obvious point of motive to think about, yet it had completely slipped past the junior detective. In his defense, he was used to being an independent investigator, not the vanguard to a bughunt!
Grid peered at Bluebird expectantly. He had paused his packing.
Already, Bluebird could understand there weren’t a lot of happy answers to Grid’s question. If the changeling wasn’t fleeing, it could only mean he still had business at the manor—but what business could possibly be worth all this danger?
“Huh, if I had to venture a guess,” Bluebird said chipperly, trying to preserve Grid’s peace of mind, “… maybe he’s just gotten chummy with his new friends at the manor and hates saying goodbye! Ahah.”
Grid gave a pity laugh. “Now that’s just silly! C’mon, I thought I told you no sugarcoating.”
“I’m sorry, it was a bad joke. To address your question seriously, I really have no idea.”
“Right.” Grid slung the gym bag over his shoulder. “But, you didn’t really answer my other thing: The Royal Guard is on their way, aren’t they? And they’re going to… pry this thing open with force, if they have to?”
Something about the way he was asking: Bluebird felt he couldn’t dodge this question even if he wanted to.
“Yes, um, they’re on their way,” the cadet said. It was the truth, after all, and Bluebird had only forgotten rather than refused to say as much the first time Grid had asked. “So don’t worry! If me and Pesco drop the ball, they’ll grab it before it even hits the floor.”
“Figured.” Grid eyed the gym doors. “Well anyway, thanks for the chat, dude. I really needed it. Now let’s both get some shut-eye, hey?”
Every day, week after week, “Windshear” made the same request with different words. She phrased them in alternation as either orders or questions:
“Let me leave.”ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ“When can I see my family again?”
“You need to help me escape.”ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ“Why can’t you free me like the others?”
“Kill me, I’d rather be dead…”ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
Her demands became stronger, one after another, while his denials became weaker. Eventually he lost the will to lie to her that this was impossible, and it was all he could muster simply not to respond.
It wasn’t supposed to be like this, Scolus thought. He was used to comforting his assignments through worse bouts of terror, depression, homesickness, and more, especially during their first few nights. But he had always been able to make some progress, provide some amount of comfort, leverage some amount of hard-earned trust over time.
With Windshear, it would’ve been optimistic to say he was getting nowhere.
In particular, he was incapable of farming even the smallest strand of love from her. He couldn’t nourish himself, let alone set any aside for the Hive; in fact, so intense was his love malaise after each session with her that he had to indulge in selfish (and dangerous, should anybug report him) pick-me-ups off the clock with his more productive assignments—and even then, the hunger remained.
In his position, any other changeling would have given up the assignment, handed her off to somebug else. Knowing his colleagues, Scolus did not consider this an option he could pursue in good conscience.
Three weeks and two days after first meeting her, he finally gave in. He brought Windshear to a specific, defunct tunnel at the outskirts of the Hive’s underground transport network. At this hour, they were perfectly alone.
“I’m really glad you came around to helping me.” Windshear's smile was a bridge hanging between two rosy cheeks. “I knew you were a good bug, deep down inside. I was right to trust you.”
Her positivity and hope should’ve nourished Scolus, but he felt nothing. If he had been in the mood to feed, the cold cave wall might have given him more love. Scolus wasn’t sure what was the cause, but he wanted to blame himself for it.
“But, I’m still really scared, Scolus… Are you sure you can’t come with me?” she begged, eying the dark and cramped tunnel entrance beside her. “Is this, um, the way you’ve helped everypony else escape?”
“I’m sorry, I know this will be hard for you, but I can’t accompany you. It would be too long an absence on my part, if I came along. You have the map I gave you, right?” She nodded. “And here, if ever you start to feel lonely or scared, just turn this on with your magic for a few seconds, and breathe.”
Scolus took out from his bag the enchanted citrine, currently inert. To demonstrate as well as to comfort, Scolus lit the gem up with a spark from his horn, illuminating their immediate surroundings in a facsimile of sunlight.
Windshear winced at the bright glow as she re-extinguished the gem and levitated it into a small rucksack Scolus had given her. Rubbing her eyes vigorously, she said, “Thanks, but… you didn’t answer my question.”
Scolus had to think back a little. “Oh, how I helped everypony else? Um, it’s kind of a custom escape plan, each and every time. I have to be really careful about this, for your and my sake both.”
Windshear chewed her cheek as her only response. Scolus could only figure his answer hadn’t been terribly reassuring.
“But don’t worry!” he continued. “Everypony I’ve helped to escape, has escaped. Well, just to be honest, all but one. But even in his case, the worst that happened was that he was reassigned. He’s doing fine these days. After all, you can believe me when I say that we… we really just want you to be happy down here. We only abduct ponies in the first place because, well, for us, it’s…”
“… it’s how you survive,” she completed. “I understand. It’s only the natural order of things. Isn’t it?”
“Maybe. I do hope things can change a little, one day.”
Scolus thought back to that one escapee, the one who had been recaptured. It was true that he had, to Scolus’s knowledge, received no punishment other than being reassigned from Scolus as a precaution. Indeed, Scolus still saw him from time to time, mingling with the other prisoners.
A thought struck Scolus. “Hey, Windshear: Does the name Sidereal mean anything to you?”
That was his name, that of the unsuccessful escapee. Windshear’s eyes widened in response.
“He’s the one who told you about me, isn’t he? That every once in a while, I’m willing to… do this sort of thing, for those who can’t get comfortable down here?” Scolus suddenly felt more self-conscious with his words—he only hoped Sidereal was being discreet about who he told these things to.
Windshear giggled. “I guess you could say that. Nothing gets past changelings, huh?” She recomposed herself, and picked back up with a more serious tone: “But I really do wish this didn’t have to be goodbye. That I could properly express my gratitude for the risk you’re taking, betraying your own queen like this. But, I have family in Cloudsdale. They’re, um, they’re very important to me.”
“No thanks needed!”
Scolus floated his wings, attempting to soak in the unicorn’s loving words. Still, he came up dry.
Since his hatching, Scolus was prone to fits of random terror. For no particular reason, he felt one coming on. It wasn’t the time—this one, like all the rest, he pushed deep down inside himself.
There was no particular reason, he repeated to himself.
“Say, maybe there is something,” Scolus said. “Some teeny tiny way to pay me back, to make this a sweeter goodbye?”
“Hm?”
“Well, Windshear… That’s not your real name, is it?”
“Huh? What do you mean?”
The fit had to be indulged just a little. “And, and you’re not really from Cloudsdale. I might not know as much about surface societies as I would like, but I know a unicorn living in the clouds is just silly!”
Windshear looked at her own wingless sides a bit ashamedly. “I guess it is, isn’t it?”
“But it’s all right! I understand why you might have been suspicious of me, but after all this, I just think… You said you trusted me, didn’t you?”
“You’re right. I did say that!” She giggled again, and then took a strangely long time looking around the cavern before responding. “All right, ahhh, my name is Tumbleweed. And I’m from Dodge Juncture.”
Another lie, Scolus recognized. But this one was different—this one was concerning. “You mean… Dodge Junction, right?”
“Oh. Yeah!”
Anxiety climbed Scolus’s chest. “Appleloosa. You know Appleloosa, right? It’s the original settlement, Dodge Junction is just a nearby outpost. Tell me, is Appleloosa to the north or the south of Dodge Junction? It’s a weird question but please, I need an answer.”
“Umm… the north. Definitely.”
It was west. Anxiety died; panic exploded. “Okay, Tumbleweed, Windshear, whoever, I don’t need to know your name! But p-please, tell me about a place you know well! It doesn’t have to be one you or your family come from, just anywhere! Just to convince me you’re really… !”
“Ahhh…” She was having a hard time keeping a semblance of a straight face.
“T-this creature, all right? What creature am I right now?” In a flash of green light, Scolus transformed himself into a cute, clawed little creature. He meowed repeatedly at the one now calling herself Tumbleweed, begging her to answer. The simplest three-letter word, surely known to anypony in Equestria, right now was more urgent to Scolus than air to breathe.
Instead of any response or even a guess, “Tumbleweed” only giggled once more. This time, she didn’t stop herself, and her giggling gradually morphed into rollicking laughter. She continued to laugh, all the way until and after the point Scolus was forced out of his transformation by his biological limits.
“Well!?” he demanded.
Finally, her laughing fit subsided. “It’s not fair that you get to ask all the questions, Scole,” she growled, in an altogether foreign voice. “Why don’t you tell me: What creature am I?”
Scolus felt his stomach sink as green sparks flew off the body of the pony in front of him, slowly revealing the impostor underneath: It was none other than Clypeus, smiling something sadistic.
“You’re such an idiot, Scole. You know that, right? Just a real waste of potential. Why’s it the talented ones gotta be so disloyal?”
Clypeus looked at Scolus as if expecting some sort of explanation. Scolus was out of breath and out of his mind, in no state to offer a defense. He felt his hooves begin to backpedal on their own, only to clumsily trip over the uneven surface of the cave floor. He landed on his flank, and could only gape dumbly up at his accuser.
Clypeus turned toward the cave entrance and yelled, “He didn’t spill how he got the others out, but I think we’ve heard enough, haven’t we?”
“More than enough,” a deep voice called out from inside. A squadron of changeling soldiers poured out from the mouth of the cave, wings buzzing. Four of them landed to surround Scolus, and just as many spears soon surrounded his throat.
“C-Clypeus, has this all been a setup?” Scolus finally stammered. “A sting oper-operation, on the queen’s orders?”
“… Duh, Scole. Honestly, things in your brain just don’t add up right away, do they?” Clypeus rolled her eyes. “But you were right, you know. About Sidereal. He—”
“What did you do to him?” Scolus asked. “Did you t-torture him to make him talk?” The thought made Scolus nauseous.
“Torture him? Nah, you know how torture affects the lovestock. ‘Course, we were willing to go that far if we had to, but wouldn’cha know, he sold you out before we could even think up a good bribe!”
Raucous laughter erupted among the squadron. The metal spear tips jiggled uncomfortably against Scolus’s larynx.
“Anyway, Scole, here’s the upshot: Ponies aren’t your friends. And now, neither are changelings. Queen Chrysalis will have the final word on what we do with you, and I won’t speak on her highness’s behalf, but to put it lightly: I think you’ve had your last taste of royal jelly!”
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Frick. I need to sit down.
So, he's either an exile or an escapee. That puts a different twist on things. Depending on how long ago these flashbacks took place it's possible he actually has been one of the group the whole time.
Yep, like 90% positive there's a loyalist changeling outside the six hunting a fugitive changeling among them, and the teens are covering for the fugitive. Zorn's experiment was most likely research on the fugitive before a hostile party showed up at all.
My guess is the loyalist is just completely external. Nothing about the situation necessitates or is even aided by permanently replacing someone from such a tight-knit group that knows each other that well. We've established the entry into Bon's room was forced from outside, so nothing internal was even needed.
Possible but unlikely the loyalist is one or both of the detectives. Both detectives were present when a changeling was sighted, but that may have been the fugitive attempting to wipe Zorn's experiment before one of the detectives tried to force the issue. And IIRC the narrative has gone first person for Pesco, but not Bluebird -- which doesn't necessarily implicate one over the other because narrators can still hide information, but the discrepancy is curious.
So there's two changelings - Scolus the quasi nice changeling and a hunter sent to catch him or execute him on sight.
Things are getting tense.
Ha ha, I already know where this is going then, and I'm pretty sure it's not got to do with a changeling.
Really? 'Cuz I'm thinking Bon might be laying it on a little thick, to the point he's coming across as a little desperate.
Which I suppose is fitting, since he really IS "a little desperate" at this point, but still!
Oh good grief, Bon--I sympathize with you, man, I really do, but seriously! Laying it on too thick!
See, I've been wondering that myself, which is why I am convinced that the changeling's motives for being here at all go deeper than causing trouble or even just trying to survive. Whatever it wants is here, and it's important enough that it's not inclined to leave without it, important enough that it's willing to allow knowledge of its existence to get around, important enough to risk discovery, important enough that despite that building awareness of it that certainly works to its disadvantage, it's still in the area.
Interpret all that how you will.
How much do we all want to bet that this is it exactly?
...or are we all in agreement that it'd be too much of a sucker's bet?
She's a spy. Clearly, someling decided to double-check to make sure Scolus didn't continue indulging in his little "underground railroad," so to speak.
Probably because the talented ones are the ones who can recognize what's going on here for what it really is.
I'm finding myself sort of wishing we didn't get this backstory for Scolus until much later in the story, because I feel like it may be revealing too much too soon, giving the readers too much of an advantage towards figuring it out that the story's cast do not, and I worry that's only going to ensure the readers figure out the truth well in advance to the story revealing it, and that sort of takes some of the suspense out of it.
But what's done is done, I guess.
11237541
No, I'm pretty sure at least most of the teens don't know there IS a changeling in their midst, or else their attempts to dissuade attention from the fact that they know would show way more obviously, maybe even enough to abandon the pretense entirely as a chance to try and convince Bluebird and Pesco to their side of things so they can count on their aid. Heck, for that matter, why bring in the authorities at all to this problem if they had no confidence the authorities would understand the situation if told (or found out) the truth? Further, most of the ones we've talked with at length seem to be truly unaware of who the changeling is or why one would be here, and ALL of them excepting Girard (who we don't know one way or the other on) have expressed ready skepticism of the idea that the changeling is here for anything but malice.
As such, I am still very much toying with the idea that none of them actually know they have a friendly changeling in their midst (and the changeling may be using that plausible deniability as an aid for its cover).
But if we assume some of them do anyway, then I would guess it's either Gloria, who's clearly hiding something she doesn't want found out, Zorn, who seemed to sympathize with the changeling's plight, or Girard, who we simply don't know one way or the other as of yet. This is, of course, further complicated by the likely possibility that one of them could be the changeling as well (but the thought has occurred to me that it may really be that NONE of them are the changeling, and that the changeling is hiding somewhere else nearby), so that could further eliminate some of these options.
As such my stance on this remains largely unchanged--the changeling is Girard, and if anyone knows that he is, it's Gloria. Zorn may suspect something at this point...but I'm not confident about it, and if he does suspect, he's not confident enough to call it out or else he would've done so already, at least in private.
There could be a second changeling...but to be honest, I'm gradually becoming not so certain of that anymore. I can at least still see this playing out in such a way that the presence of a second changeling isn't required, particularly if I'm right and none to next to none of the kids knew in advance one of them is a changeling.
Of course, it may be that none of them were ever replaced to begin with. For all we know, Scolus fleeing in the hive just resulted in him ending up here and he thought it a good hiding spot, particularly as it was already populated and thus making it a not so obvious hiding spot for a changeling, and he's simply been lurking nearby, hoping he'll go overlooked by both the mansion's populace and any hunters that may or may not be chasing him, at least long enough to be able to move on to another future hiding spot. It sort of depends on just when Scolus left the hive in relation to now. As well as how exactly he escaped the hive altogether and if there was any chance of it being noticed in time to pick up his trail and give pursuit. If he got enough of a lead that enough time passed for his trail to go cold, the hive might have no idea where he is...unless they managed to find some clue after the fact.
(Of course, in the case of show-canon Thorax, he just up and left the hive, and it seems nobody really ever bothered to chase after him, despite surely him leaving an obvious trail the 'lings could've followed or caught word of him ultimately revealing himself in the Crystal Empire, so it's possible this could apply to Scolus's case here too--the hive didn't care enough to give chase, maybe figuring he'd not last long on his own like that)
Point is, don't be so quick to assume there's actually a second changeling here just yet. It may really be just the one still.
Ah, so the changeling is just trying to take refuge! Now THIS is what I call a creative writer. I would never have thought of that storyline.
"Wait, you can't play a piano, but you can work zip ties?"
"You can't exactly bite down on piano keys, dude."
"Fair enough."
Yeah, given the further flashback, there's definitely more to this than the non-changelings know about. And Scolus obviously can't turn to them for help; why would they believe him? I do agree that it might have been better to wait on this reveal, but it's still a fascinating twist. Eagerly looking forward to more.
Can I start spraying the magical RAID now? There's bad bug ponies around!
The suspects put forward here are Grid and Bon. Now the state of relations between the two are clearer: Bon's giving, Grid's taking with lots of concerns in his mind. It doesn't give much evidence to the thought of the changeling having entered the house even before Blanche made breakfast that fateful hour, but it does make a parallel with the later flashback of someone trying to make things comfortable for someone else but that someone else just isn't getting the message. If Bon ends up being the changeling (which I don't think is a likely case, as I'll try to justify later), that would be poetic.
Now, given the Scolus flashback later in the chapter, it does make sense that the changeling is still hanging around at least partly to get love, either still as a way to survive or in a more idealistic form of really understanding love and trusting in another unconditionally. Given how the average changeling depicted here aren't the sort to employ sleeper cells, resorting to just capture and harvest, it does mean that Scolus hiding as one of the suspects is already revolutionary enough because he has become a sleeper cell (unto himself). Blanche won't be pleased.
So for now, we've got some scant but useful information that we know is definitely true:
And that's it. There is no indication yet about the circumstances of him being here. Did he really escape from the Hive? Or did someone place a tracker on him? Or maybe he's still torn, being under orders to conduct some mission for his own redemption? Or something else entirely? And this is not to mention that, if all of this is taken at face value, Zorn's assumption that the changeling is against them is wrong... though, if that is the case, why did he ever make that speech about abuse?
Now, where does everyone stand? Well, this chapter does bring into light that changelings do have transformation stamina, and while a cat is definitely too different from a changeling, it's implied that the changeling can't just be in the suspect's form 24/7. In fact, I'm not sure if that bit about him having a restless night last chapter was done in his true form or as one of the suspects (though, if it's the latter, him being one of the deer siblings or the griffon cousins would be playing a dangerous game should he undisguise himself at the wrong time). Thus, even if Scolus would want to be out in the open 24/7, he may not be able to do (unless he's sustained by love...?)
It then turns out that my earlier criterion of judging someone based on how much screentime they've got may be nice in-universe after all. It's certainly a balance, wanting to get love but also not exerting himself too much. Thus, with Grid getting even more attention now, he's slowly losing that #1 spot but hasn't let go entirely (plus, exercising in the evening... exertion in the night), but he's still there given that it's reasonable that the changeling may have a nice fall-back thing to rant about under pressure. Bon's still quite low, because even with the attention he's had, he's still in trouble when it comes to actually getting love from Grid (though then again, Blanche is there... that would be nice, though: Blanche is the back-up love battery should Scolus's continued attempts to flirt with Grid keep failing). Zorn maybe being wrong about the changeling's intentions doesn't do much to him, and he stays where he is as of last chapter. The same goes for Gloria (though Gloria being the face of a broken Scolus who had his ideals shattered may explain why she's quite mean, and not just whatever cunning personality she's had). Same goes for Blanche, too.
For now, I still have my reservations about the changeling's intentions. There is still a lot of ground to cover between Scolus being caught and the present day.
Almost unrelated, but I tried to find fan art of deer or reindeer with a lock and/or a key. None, at least with my cursory searching. But that image of lockpicking Bon has led me to the next best thing: key deer.
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