Chapter Thirteen: Stumbling Around A Little
“Well, that's a bust.”
The streets of Ponyville were–in sharp contrast to the last two weeks–mostly vacated and devoid of life.
This was mostly due to the fact that the Summer Sun Celebration had come to an end, setting a new bar for property damage done to the town in a single night, surpassing even the great calamity of 984, when the Apples lost their whole batch of cider. This was the common consensus the citizens arrived at during the celebration turned party, despite arguments from the newly returned Princess that the damage technically had been done in two nights. The sun didn't rise, yes, but time wise, it has been a whole day and a night.
Luna wasn't very keen on the fact that the first gift she got after her return was an official certificate, made and stamped by the slightly tipsy Mayor Mare right there at the party, honoring her as the new record holder for biggest reparation to be paid in the town's history. (The previous one was Dr. Hooves, who gained it after deciding that shipping nitroglycerin by post was a good idea.)
The other reason for the emptiness of Ponyville’s streets was the rain-ready, overcast sky.
The weather team had prepared the scheduled downpour overnight. It was meant to be the answer to the pleas of the local farmers who, after two weeks of forced sunny days, were getting pretty antsy about their crops.
Or as Applejack put it: "Dash, if there ain't no rain tomorrow, I'm taking the whole darn weather team, you included, and makin' them water the whole o' Sweet Apple Acres. By hoof.”
So rain it was.
But the rain wasn't on Lyra’s mind as she stood in front of the decisively locked doors of Lounges and Lavatories.
"I mean, we should have expected it, really."
Lyra spun around to see Bon Bon facehoofing, and Anon sitting on her haunches by the candy maker's side, staring blankly into space.
"The town did get attacked by shadow monsters just a few days ago," Lyra finished, shrugging at the sign reading CLOSED.
And if that wasn't enough of a hint, the fact that half of the building was missing might have tipped them off.
Bon Bon sagged. "Sorry Honey, I should have checked."
Lyra waved her hoof. “It’s alright. We just have to think of something else to do now.”
Meanwhile, Anon's gaze was transfixed on the town's pavilion and the ponies working together to put the damaged, two-storey building for some reason called pavilion, back together. Because while the streets were empty, the roofs were quite bustling with activity as somepony had to repair the damaged roofs.
Lyra followed the jumper's eyes towards the building, shattered in the battle with the summoned shades. The minty unicorn gave Bon Bon a shoulder bump, pointing her towards the pavilion.
"Repairs are going smoothly, at least." Lyra said, "The old thing needed a new coat of paint, anyway."
Bon Bon gave her a non-committed shrug, while Anon continued staring at the pavilion. The jumper’s thoughts were drawn to it - something broken was being rebuilt, piece by piece.
"Do you think…" The filly started to paw at the road, nervous and desperate for a distraction. "No, it's silly."
The jumper tried her best to appear nonchalant and dismissive, but her tone must have let some of her true emotions through, because her words only caused Lyra to frown.
"I like silly things," Lyra said encouragingly. "Silly things are fun. I think you could use some fun."
Anon halted for a moment, taking a deep breath. Her mind was divided on how to manage the situation - this wasn't the kind of thing she was used to handling.
She didn't even know how she felt. She made a deliberate effort to avoid thinking about such things; there wasn't anything good that could arise from doing so. Just keep going, just keep marching on, until you're either dead or home.
What else was there to do?
Seeing the pavilion being repaired spoke to her for some strange reason - to that little voice, locked in the corner of her head. Despite her attempts at silencing it, there it always was. Whispering. Suggesting. A part of her that wanted to think about it, about stuff the jumper desperately tried to avoid.
There was no point, Anon argued with herself. No meaning to uncover. No gain to be had by trying to unpack it. One could only continue. Feandil did it, marching ever onwards, head held high. Daybreaker at least understood it.
They were gone now, the only true companions she had found on her travels. Yet the thoughts remained - the treacherous whisper slowly turning into a battle cry.
"It's… hard to put into words." Anon struggled out.
Bon Bon leaned closed towards the filly, not close enough to be touching, but enough that her presence was more easily felt. The jumper relaxed a little in spite of herself. The freshly engaged couple already proved that they were willing to rush into danger for her. And while Anon felt guilty for putting them in that danger in the first place, it was reassuring to know that somebody had her back.
Also, the closeness to the candymaker hammered home just how tiny her body was in comparison to the full grown mare. It should have made her feel weak, but it gave her a strange sense of comfort instead.
"Take your time," whispered Bon Bon gently. "There is no rush."
And nowhere to go.
"I…" Anon attempted.
This is a mistake.
The filly gave a deep sigh.
"Do you think that it's still the same building?" the jumper blurted out suddenly.
Lyra tilted her head. "The pavilion? I mean, yeah?"
Anon stayed silent for a moment, her internal turmoil reflected in her expression, as she scrounged her muzzle and bit her lip - as if she was trying to keep her mouth closed, only for the flow of words proving too powerful to contain.
“Where I'm from, we have this… question.” the filly said, her voice still quivering with insecurity, as if she was expecting something to interrupt her, herself most likely. “A philosophical one. Or more of a thought experiment. It's called the Ship of Theseus.”
Anon’s errant hoof continued to draw circles on the dusty road as she waited for a reaction from the two mares, Bon Bon being first to inquire further. The mare’s words were calm and collected, each syllable carefully and slowly pronounced.
“What is it about?” the candy maker asked.
“So, there was this… for lack of a better word, hero.” Anon explained. “And he had a ship. And he sailed with it, like one does. But the ship got damaged. So they replaced parts. Just some at first, but more and more as time went by. The mast, the hull, the sails, the oars. Until nothing of the old ship remained.”
The words came out in a steady flow. It wasn't what the jumper wanted to say, not really. But now that she started, she couldn't stop.
“But…, if-if you change everything about the ship.” Anon continued. “It isn't the Ship of Theseus anymore, right?”
The filly paused for a moment, her ears drooping low. Lyra sprung up to speak, only for Bon Bon to shoot her a look while shaking her head.
This wasn't time for Lyra to speak.
“What if you did it with a person?” asked Anon, not expecting to hear an answer.
Bon Bon held her ground, acting as a pillar for the green filly to lean on. But still, the agent felt her muscles tense up. Seething anger simmering just under the surface.
The implication for what happened to Anon was clear, and the agent couldn’t do anything but listen to the disguised confession.
“I mean, if you take someone,” the filly said.” And you change them. Replace them. Bit by bit. Face, voice.”
Lyra flinched as the filly sighed and swallowed emptily.
“Name,” Anon whispered.
The jumper wanted to stop speaking. Bury these things deep in some dark corner of her mind. But it kept dragging itself back from its grave, ever persistent.
The jumper almost found it ironic - it wasn't the onslaught of life threatening adventures that finally broke the camel's back (or horse in this case). No, it was finally having some peace that would do it.
Before this world, there was always danger. Ensuring she lived to see another day took precedent above everything else. No time to worry about your metaphorical existential crisis when you are in the middle of a literal one.
But now? The survival needs that took so much of her attention before were fulfilled as an afterthought.
And so these thoughts resurfaced once again, only now she didn't have the luxury of pushing them away to get on with the more pressing worries.
“It isn't them anymore,” Anon said, bitterly.
Lyra’s horn lit up as a wave of amber magic got rid of some of the dust from the jumper's coat. The musician gave her a sheepish smile as the tingles caused by the magic made her fur stand.
"Well, I might not know much about the… Ship of Thesaurus or what-have-you.” The amber light of Lyra’s horn dimmed as the unicorn started her characteristically unrhythmic trot towards the town's main square. “But I do know that it's up to Mayor Mare to decide if the pavilion is a new building or not.”
Bon Bon offered Anon a hoof as she got up. The jumper hesitated before taking it.
“Let me guess,” the filly darted forward to be beside the unicorn mare. “Is the building her responsibility ‘cause she’s the mayor?”
“That too,” nodded Lyra. “But mainly because she is the one who gives building permits. Renovation and new projects are separate.”
The filly stared at the mare for a second.
“Oh,” was the answer.
“Anyway,” interjected Bon Bon. “Where are we going now? We have a clear schedule.”
Lyra continued walking down the street, seemingly unbothered by their lack of direction.
“Eh, the doctors’?” Lyra offered weakly, after a few moments of thought where she tried to remember the meticulous schedule Bon Bon prepared in advance for the week (a schedule which was rarely followed, much to the candymaker's annoyance.)
“Tomorrow, Lyly,” answered Bon Bon. “The same day you have your usual doctors appointment. Much easier that way.”
Lyra's smile suddenly brightened up, an idea sneaking its way into her head as she shot the gray skies a calculating look.
“Well, then I think this is an ideal time to grab some hot cocoa!” Her exclamation was met with exasperated expressions from her fiance, yet Lyra’s smile refused to falter. “C’mon Bonnie! Hot cocoa is the best!”
“It's summer, Lyly." Bon Bon sighed. "It's too warm for hot cocoa.”
The jumper was inclined to agree. Walking around in fur coats also did not help matters. Warm beverages just didn't sound like a good idea at the moment.
Lyra snickered. “Nonsense! There is never a bad time for hot cocoa!”
The jumper's ears pressed against her head in embarrassment. It sounded so… childish.
On the other hand, cocoa.
“... I would like some.”
The minty unicorn beamed. To the casual viewer, it almost looked like she grew taller from the sudden rise in smugness in her bloodstream.
“See?! It's decided then!” she said loudly and stepped forwards to the main street.
Sadly, their quest for that most divine of liquids was almost immediately interrupted by a piece of paper landing on Lyra’s nose.
“Hey, who turned off the lights?”
Lyra’s bewilderment over how the world decided to vanish didn't last long– about a second, to be exact–as this was roughly the time that passed before she crashed into the pony carrying the tickets.
Twilight Sparkle, Student of Princess Celestia and Element of Magic, forgot to look where she was going and walked right into her.
Lyra let out a yelp and jumped up, gaining enough altitude to nearly land on a nearby roof. Her eyes grew wide from the pain flaring from her back, the poor mare now fully at the mercy of the ever-cruel mistress named gravity.
Bon Bon’s reaction was immediate: The agent leaped, standing on her hind legs, catching Lyra before she could hit the ground.
Meanwhile, Anon found herself in a garbage can - phasing there in a bout of panic.
Spike grimaced at the carnage, wincing as Bon Bon struggled to stay upright, balancing with the still squirming Lyra. The young drake had been riding on Twilight's back, only to be catapulted to the side by the impact.
“Oh! What are these!?”
And then Pinkie Pie arrived.
The minty unicorn turned sharply towards the incoming pink blur, accidentally swatting Bon Bon's muzzle with her mane, the poor agent let out a mighty sneeze, sending them both tumbling down right on Twilight, who was just getting up from the ground while rubbing her sore muzzle.
Spike sighed.
The young drake approached the tangled mess of limbs and bodies, grabbed the first hoof he saw and pulled somepony out, until the four mares - including Pinkie, who originally wasn't part of the pile up, but decided to join in because it looked fun - were successfully untangled and sitting side by side, little stars dancing above their heads.
“Is everypony alright?” Twilight said as soon as she gained control over her faculties. The still wobbling and dazed mare stumbled around, with Spike trying to hold her upright and only mostly succeeding.
“We're good, right honey?” Bon Bon said through a strained smile, craning her neck towards her marefriend, expecting some sort of answer. The minty mare was clinging onto Bon Bon the same way a wounded soldier to their comrade, silent. “Honey?”
Bon Bons voice turned more high pitched and panicky than the agent intended, but then the minty unicorn tapped her on the snoot, snickering as Bon Bons expression turned deadpan.
“Yup, she's fine,” Bon Bon said towards Twilight, who let out a relieved sigh now that she knew she wasn't responsible for mareslaughter.
“I'm so sorry,” Twilight apologized. “I've been distracted because of these-”
“Tickets to the Grand Galloping Gala?!”
Twilight wilted as behind her Pinkie started bouncing, the ticket of doom in her hooves, her wide eyes sparkling with unrestrained excitement.
“Yeah, those,” Twilight sighed.
If Anon had to hazard a guess, now was the time to try to find some cover. Something better than a garbage can; those were concealment at best. Not to mention that the insides of a garbage can left outside for days in summer heat creates some…potent materials. And smells. Said potent materials and smells were now making the jumper’s eyes water as what was essentially boiling garbage soup started to stick to her like glue.
Outside, Pinkie Pie grabbed Twilight by the shoulders, shaking in place, looking like she was on the verge of spontaneously combusting.
“The tickets to the most amazing incredible tremendous super-fun wonderful terrifically humongous party in all of Equestria!?!” The pink mare screamed right into Twilight's face.
The green filly carefully hopped out and started backpedaling away. Silently praying she won't be noticed by the pink devil. She went around the corner, expecting that at any moment the party mare would appear to scare the life out of her.
But something worse happened.
“Oh the Grand Galloping Gala is the best place for me!”
Pinkie started singing.
To the jumper's growing bewilderment, this wasn't a heartsong - there wasn't any mysterious force compelling her to join the musical number. Pinkie Pie was singing just because. No magic assistance needed.
Worst part: it was kinda catchy.
Still, better to keep some distance in case it did become a heartsong. The jumper had foolishly forgotten her ear plugs and becoming a backup singer against her will wasn’t how she wished to spend the morning.
Anon took in her surroundings. She had found herself in an alleyway, one she actually recognized from one of her previous chases with the Pink One. There were some good hiding spots, and an unlocked back door to a strange shop selling sofas and writing implements. A good escape route in case she would need one.
The jumper felt a tingle run down her spine: She’d been spotted.
“Ehm, hi?”
Oh, it's Spike.
The young drake held a claw over his mouth, snickering and pointing at the crow's nest that was Anon's hairdo.
“You have something in your mane," he wheezed, barely holding in full-on laughter.
Anon found something partially sticking to her horn and mane - a banana peel, because the universe has a terrible sense of humor.
"Thanks…" the jumper trailed off, trying to come up with a sufficient way to say: ‘Sorry for putting holes in your home, I swear it was in self defense’. "And…eh…sorry for the mess I left behind in the library."
It wasn't enough that she inadvertently put even more people into danger, no, she also had to break their stuff.
Spike shrugged. "Eh, it happens. I'm pretty sure Twilight alone made some repair pony’s livelihood back in Canterlot."
As if on cue, there was the sound of air being displaced by the body of a purple unicorn. Twilight landed running, the few sparks left from her teleportation shimmering in the air.
“I can't believe it!” The purple unicorn exclaimed, holding the two accursed pieces of glimmering gold paper. “What am I supposed to do?! These tickets-”
The mare suddenly paled, noticing the green filly staring at her blankly. She slowly put the tickets behind her back in an act that was about as inconspicuous as a clown attending a funeral.
“I mean, tickets? What tickets? There are no tickets,” said Twilight, giving a painfully wide and obviously false smile.
Anon knew what the Grand Galloping Gala was. During the week she shared with Daybreaker, their conversation had turned to it quite a few times. It was on the list of things to avoid.
At the very top.
In big bold letters.
Underlined four times.
“Of course there are no tickets here. Why would there be tickets?” asked Anon, her voice sounding almost sincere.
Twilight relaxed, looking about to see if she wasn't followed, before she froze for a moment, confused.
“Spike, why is there a filly covered in garbage alone in an alleyway?” She paused, finally looking around her. “Why are we in an alleyway?”
“Spring!”
Bon Bon rushed into the allaway, picking up the filly still partially coated in the contents of a garbage can.
“You have to stop doing this.” The agent's eyes softened a little at the sight of the little green filly avoiding her gaze. “You just can't run off everytime we go somewhere.”
Twilight's eye twitched.
The agent felt her heart skip. She should have anticipated this - it was only a matter of time, really. There was a good reason why even the best agents had to use a fake name similar or at least connect to their real ones.
True Names have shape. One that's visible to some.
Nopony can say when the tradition started - or if it was even a tradition, and not just a part of the magical nature of the world - but when the time comes to name a newborn, the name was already there. Palpable and so clear at the moment - a short glimpse at something beyond, stitched with golden thread into reality.
Most ponies don't know why or how, not caring of the magical miracle happening - so mundane it had become.
True Names cannot be spoken, words can only describe them to some measure. And that's exactly what a pony's name is. A word description of their True Name, seen and understood for but a fleeting second.
At least that's how it is for most. Magic has a weird tendency to reveal things. And Twilight Sparkle was one very magical pony.
It happens from time to time. Magically gifted individuals, able to see the shape of a True Name, or at least sense it to an extent.
Now, what happens when the name, the description, doesn't fit the shape, the True Name?
Or worse.
What if it was missing?
But luckily for them, Twilight's staring was interrupted by a sound akin to a chainsaw attacking some poor, defenseless trees as the purple unicorn's stomach roared.
Yet still, even though she and Spike walked away in their search for an answer to the ticket dilemma - and more importantly, lunch - she couldn't shake a feeling of profound wrongness about the green filly. One she couldn't quite place.
One that she should investigate further.
Bon Bon lifted the unprotesting and absolutely filthy filly by the scruff of her neck. A slight mistake on her part as she got the vile taste of spoiled cabbage on her tongue
It was off-putting - the filly’s behavior, not the cabbage. The agent wasn't sure if she should be happy that Anon wasn’t voicing a loud objection to being picked up or worried that the filly didn't muster enough effort to do even that.
“Sorry,” muttered Anon weakly for nothing in particular. Bon Bon muffled something back.
“What?” Asked the jumper, not being able to understand a word of what Bon Bon was saying due to the fact that the poor mare had a mouth full of her fur.
The candymaker placed her gently on the ground, then started to cough and spit stray hairs.
“Blergh, you’re definitely getting a bath.” She smiled at the filly, but her attempts at humor seemed to fail at cheering Anon even a little.
Sweetie Drops sighed. The streets were empty once again: ponies were getting in before the rain that was yet to start. The agent felt a little cheated at this, somehow. If she had to have this kind of conversation, the least she could get was some ambiance.
It would also help with washing away the smell of rotting carrots…
“I… I get it. The need to get away.” Sweetie Drops spoke slowly. The fully perked up a little, just the ears, moving from front to back. It seemed that the jumper had a hard time controlling them. “The urge to hide, to run.”
The jumper hid her face, still stoic. Dissociation, the agent knew that trick well. Disconnecting from life, ignoring reality? That's easy. The problem is that reality doesn't ignore us back.
Sweetie Drops could almost taste the irony. That she, of all ponies, was put into this situation. Having to explain to a filly why she cannot just run away from her caretakers all the time. Except back then, she was on the opposite side of the fence.
It almost hurts, the agent pondered. Just how much she reminds me of myself back then.
“Nothing is safe. Nothing is… yours.” Sweetie Drops said gently. “Home doesn't feel like home. You go there, and you feel like a thief.”
Pure survival thinking was hard to break. Switching parts of oneself off so they don’t get in the way is one thing, turning them back on was another. The agent could almost see it - she had lived through it too. Survival is an affair of simplicity. Harsh, cruel simplicity, but simplicity nonetheless. It never ceased to amaze, the sort of things one can withstand. The sort of sheer stubbornness that spits on probability and fate alike.
One has to have hope, of course. To push them forward. Hope is a survival need, like air or water. There is no surviving without hope. But one needs very little of it to keep going.
And it can sometimes come from the strangest of sources.
Sweetie Drops got on her haunches, low, eye to eye with Anon.
"I fought Nightmare Moon over you,” she said. “I'm not going anywhere."
Hope. She had it in Spring. Back then, when everypony thought of her as a lost cause. When she herself was a small filly who stopped believing in tomorrows. All it took was one pony to never give up on her.
Anon was going to be alright, she had two of those.
"So next time, please run to me and not into a garbage can,” Bon Bon said, playfulness slipping into her voice. “Not only am I safer, but I also smell much better."
As Sweetie sat back, Anon didn't react visibly except for her ears twitching, moving back and forth. Normally, the agent did not have much problem reading ponies and Anon wasn’t much different. Easier than most, actually. The jumper may have had walking and basic magic down, but even when she tried to keep a blank poker face, she always forgot all the other little tells. Hooves and tail especially.
The jumper was divided, arguing with herself. There was some anger there too, buried deep. Anger and fear. But it was all better than the wet mop she was in the morning, the agent decided. Feeling anything is always better than numbness.
“Ehm, that's nice and all,” the jumper said.
“But where’s Lyra?"
It was still morning and Lyra already felt tired.
She had a more noticeable limp, her coat was all roughened up and dusty and a few strands of her mane had gone wild. Both Spring and Bon Bon had vanished in the distraction Pinkie and her song caused, while ponies started to go into the streets just to watch the spectacle.
She had lost them, again. So she had to try and find them, again.
Well, it could be worse, Lyra thought...
And then it was.
"Hello!”
In front of Lyra was the sheer embodiment of a very specific kind of government worker. Not the kind that have you running around to get six different permits, two of which don't exist anymore and the last one is only available at the seventh ring of hell, obsessed with paperwork and thinking that smiling is a sign of some horrible, contagious disease.
No. This one practically screamed ‘social worker’ or maybe a teacher. The mane in a bun, the way she held a clipboard and smiled pleasantly. Lyra halfway expected her to try to sign her up for counseling right then and there.
“You must be Lyra Heartstrings.”
To call the emotion Lyra felt after spotting the light pink pegasus ‘panic’ would only be partially accurate.
Panic is supposed to be sudden, not instantaneous.
"Ah," Lyra's left eye started to twitch, her jaw tightened and all the muscles around her neck bulged as she fought the insatiable urge to scream. "That's me, isn't it?"
Sunny smiled. It was an all-around pleasant, cheery smile that perfectly fit the mare.
Lyra started to sweat.
What was worse was the nagging feeling that she should have known this mare. Lyra went over the memories in her head. She knew her from somewhere. Had they met before? Had she heard about her?
What in the blazes made her so familiar?
“Sunny?!”
Relief washed over Lyra. They were there, both of them. Safe and sound and just in time to-
Lyra turned to face Bon Bon and nearly fainted.
Spring wasn’t green anymore. Well, there was some green there, but not the original green of the filly’s fur. And the other small bits coating the filly, well, she would rather not think about them, but their color was a mix of brown to the shade of dark purple. Colors most don't associate with life, but are the coloration of the most stubborn of lifeforms, able to grow in any forgotten piece of dinner at the very back of your fridge.
Nightmare scenario after nightmare scenario played in Lyras mind. This was it, she failed Spring and did so spectacularly. There was no chance in Tartarus they weren't going to take her away now.
And then Bon Bon smiled.
Lyra noticed something: Spring was…relaxed.
The filly, intentionally or not, always stood a few inches further from anypony than normal. A small, invisible bubble of space around her at all times.
Except now. The filly was standing close to Bon Bons front leg. Not fretting, not being super aware. Just… standing there.
Her further thoughts were derailed by something else.
Bon Bon rushed forward, pulling the light pink pegasus into a tight hug, staying there for a few seconds before pulling away. The pink pegasus’ expression changed, from the more polite, common smile worn in public like a piece of clothing, to somehow more warm and genuine.
And finally, it clicked for Lyra, just from where she had heard about this ‘Sunny’
The still brightly smiling Bon Bon grabbed her marefriend, taking her closer to Sunny.
"Honey, Spring, this is Sunny Skies,” Bon Bon said, excitement clear in her voice.
"My adoptive mom."
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For this split second, we look into the R63 universe of this fic. This must be Anon's/Spring's powers fluctuating
..... or a typo
Nice chapter
Nice chapter.
Wonder if we'll see her adoptive sister as well.
Oh, this just got even more interesting!
11480221
Oh!
Oh.
...~Oh?~
Nice
This is a wonderful story, however you've fallen into the trap of using too many improper nouns when designating characters. "The agent" and "the jumper" and similar things cause someone's reading to still for a moment as they process it. Pronouns and names don't have this problem. You may think that this gets monotonous, and it's true, but only to the writer. Readers are barely conscious of pronouns and names, but still comprehend them the same.
media.tenor.com/Txo5HJMOCVcAAAAC/nani-jojo.gif
1:07
Okay didn’t expect that.
11480221
Celestia? Most likely not.
Love the story. I am concerned about how this last chapter's take on true names will affect changelings--beings who by their nature adopt the names of those they impersonate in order to feed. It wouldn't do to make Twilight a changeling detector before the wedding.
It just occurred to me this fits well with the story.
0:43
What foto?
11480221
That would be excessively cruel and way ooc of Celestia to pull something like that. It's probably more along the lines of that's her persona she uses to walk Equestria and at times she likely adobts certain foals that were orphans or something.
That or it's an elaborate agency cover with no deeper meaning aside from Celestia being a literal mother figure for everyone. Kinda like that one story where all the guards call her mom.
I can honestly say I’ve never seen the ship of Theseus used as a means of conveying personal existential dread.
11480401
Same, are you cross posting from a forum or something? There is no photo here.
11480493
I know that is why I asked what photo the author note mentioned.
Biological fact: You replace most of your molecules every few months. Only a fraction of the DNA of your stem cells and CNS neurons remains unchanged for years.
You are not the same organism you were last year. And yet you are. This is the mystery of the mind!
And so, Lyra was instantly stripped of flesh by the Vashta Narada snd became a skeleton pone...
11480221 What dose? Of what drug? (Alondro, the Grammar Troll, strikes again!)
Huh…Bon bon adopted by the state/raised at Canterlot orphanage and joined to give back to her “mom” with service? Likely Tia visits them for fun/charity. Kids can be a blast, specially when compared to dealing with nobility, lol
11480401
11480493
In the last chapter, there was a photo of Celestia visiting an orphanage, with Sweetie Drops rather explicitly described. See here:
However, this tidbit was placed so ingeniously that I completely failed to notice it while proofreading, so immense props to the author for that.
Just my take on the ship of Theseus problem. The boat's irrelevant so long as the captain lives. You could scrap the ship and replace it with a rowboat, a raft, or an oil tanker. As long as Theseus is the captain it's still the ship of Theseus.
Holy shit.
Adoptive... Mother... Oh, dear. This should get... Interesting.
11480658
Funny that you mentioned it - Lyra basically says the same, just not this explicitly. She says that it was up to the Mayor Mare, the 'captain' responsible for the pavilion, to decide if it was the same building.
11480866
what the fuck?
The Ship of Theseus problem is a red herring when talking about a person. A person bears a continuity and identity of their consciousness, and it's expected to be a work in progress at all times. A person isn't the sum of all the parts, it's the sum of all the parts they've ever had.
If Celestia is really sincere with Anon, she will not send a ticket to either a filly or her adoptive parents.
I find the ship idea rather interesting, g8ven everyone else seems fit to use a name for Anon that she didn't choose. This is why I cannot really see their guardianship as a good thing, because they're dictating Anon's identity when she already had it stolen from her.
11480952
Yes but that exactly the answer the op needed instead of what they got because that ignores the question is everything but the memory changes does who you are change? Spring is probably going to have to avoid twilight for a while considering she is nosey when something she doesn't understand happens. Hopefully twilight with the ticket craziness forgot about spring.
11480958
She may want the party to be more fun, not traumatice someone a different Celestia basically adopted.
Unless she is an asshole.
who's sunny sky again?
great chapter
Is that part of Agent's legend?
11482961
I'm going out on a leg to say that's Mrs. Sunbutt.
I came across a song that reminded me of Anon's Ship of Theseus confession
Cute Momlestia scenes incoming?
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no
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Grandmalestia