The story of how a former brony was forcibly ejected from Earth into a new form to become Queen Chrysalis's unwilling assistant in her revenge plot against those darn ponies is a long and interesting one. And it starts... now.
The story of how a former brony was forcibly ejected from Earth into a new form to become Queen Chrysalis's unwilling assistant in her revenge plot against those darn ponies is a long and interesting one.
This was it. The posters were coming down. The Funkos are going back in their boxes. My subscription to the official UK magazine was cancelled. It was getting harder and harder to convince the newsagent I was procuring it for my niece, anyway. (Yes, she does actually exist, but the little darling generally prefers Sofia The First and Paw Patrol, what great standards).
No longer would I have to conceal my 'secret shame' from my family, to hide my paraphernalia when they came round for din-dins, to swiftly skip the music tracks when the tunes randomly appeared on my playlist. I could finally live in peace, harmony and acceptance... ironically, qualities my old obsession itself taught, but ones which I'd found increasingly difficult to correlate with a normal life ever since I decided to follow this dangerous route of fanaticising over wildly age-inappropriate material. Thankfully, all this would be over soon, though not for the reasons you might think.
By reading all the above and not understanding the context, you might think I was into chicken-molesting, cow-tipping or shiver Teen Titans Go. Nothing could be further from the truth, and I resent the very implication that I possibly derive enjoyment from such patently illegitimate forms of entertainment (especially, the last one). Now, let me just shove all of these equine Plushies in my bin and set them on fire, before I respond to your spurious accusations.
I used to like ponies. No, not the sort you ride on Brighton beach wearing 'Kiss Me Quick' hats, or the shaggy Shetland ones you find in town centres utilised to raise cash for failing animal sanctuaries. I mean the pastel, winged, horned, talking, fictional type. You know, to be found in a certain cartoon show. As well as mucho merchandiso put out by the owners Hasbro. Or is it 'Has-sister'? Because that would describe my familial situation better. Tee Hee. I am, of course, referring to the well-known franchise juggernaut called 'My Little Pony'.
Now wait, don't go. I apologise for my atrocious sense of humour, and for my lack of explanation as to why I was so captivated by this show and it's internal lore for so long. It wasn't a thousand years ago that those three dreaded words bought up disturbing images of smily little blonde girls with perfect teeth combing their plastic toy's synthetic manes on daytime TV commercials, or of terrible playground chants where the title was liberally rhymed with 'Skinny And Bony' to mock underweight children. If you saw what passed for school dinners at my place of education, you'd totally 'get it'.
But I digress, all that teasing and taunting and stereotypical advertising changed one day when a nice lady called Lauren Faust decided to reboot the show, and not in a half-assed Powerpuff Girls way either (Miss Bellum R.I.P). No, she invented radically different personalities for each pony, built an entire world and culture for our four-legged friends, and actually helped put a bit of effort into each script so that people of all ages and genders could enjoy it, as opposed to the whole enterprise being just a shoddy excuse to, you know, flog toys.
The future of the show looked great. Specialist conventions for adult fans were set up, Bronies and Pegasisters (as they became known) could cosplay as their 'favourites' without fear of ridicule, and the stores started to run out of products that were usually marketed to the Barbie and Bratz crowd. It was all going so well... and then, Mrs Faust left.
Why, no-one knew, and she wasn't about to 'spill the beans' either (damn those non-disclosure contracts). Last I heard, she was working on her hubby's new cartoon Wander Over Yonder, and look how that turned out. Regardless, with her departure came an entirely coincidental ramping up of the more toyetic side of the show. The Canterlot Wedding I could just about live with, Twilight Sparkle as an alicorn was a tough sell but I bought it, and even the separate 'Equestria Girls' franchise had it's moments (not the first movie, though. Sheesh).
Like cough medicine mixed with wine, I stomached the badness just to get to the good stuff, and for the most part was richly rewarded. Who could forget Discord's redemption arc, Tirek's tyranny and even the blatant Sunset Shimmer rip-off Starlight Glimmer coming into her own? The storylines, mostly continued to stir an intoxicating mixture of humour, pathos and decent life lessons, with the real highlights being the two-parters at the start and finish of each season, where in most cases the very future of the ponies' universe was at stake.
So, with all that being said, why am I currently in the process of disassembling my candlelit shrine to Luna, taking my miniatures of Celestia eating cake to the scrapheap and watching poor old Fluttershy get her wings singed by lighter fluid? That, guys and gals, can be summed up in just one word: Changelings.
Despite all the weird and wonderful beings to be found in the mythos established by the show, these rotten, hole-strewn, love-stealing monsters were always my favourite. Led by the ruthless Queen Chrysalis (remember kids: these days Queens = bad, Princesses = good, you have Disney to thank for that definition), they'd stop at nothing to take over all of Equestria while espousing their own sick, twisted agenda.
In a show full of cutesie-wutesie horsie-worsies these bug-eyed freaks stood out like a sore hoof, and I loved them for it. As much as I adored the entire cast down to the smallest non-speaking background pony just chillin' at Sugarcube Corner, the fact that the creators could get away with such an obviously unsuitable nightmarish creature in an otherwise saccharine, sickly-sweet kiddy programme was like a beacon of dark hope to me.
It proved that the makers were prepared to take risks. To add a bit of edginess to their material. To exhibit the fact that they weren't just being yanked by Hasbro's chain, they could tug back when needed, too. It was admirable, inspiring...
Aanndd, just like half of season three and The Hub, suddenly they were no more. Thanks to the combined efforts of Equestria's answer to the Suicide Squad, our evil, blackened nasties were transformed into nicey-nice, dayglo pansies. Now, instead of absorbing love to maintain their life cycle, they 'share' it among themselves in a moving manifestation of pure tenderness and friendship. Excuse me, while I go and throw up all over my replica Daring-Do books in defiance of this nauseating pseudo-Care Bear philosophy.
They've taken the most welcome dose of rare bleakness from the show, and turned it into possibly the most soppiest component. I probably wasn't supposed to feel sorry for poor ol' Queen Chrysalis when she flew off in a huff towards the end of To Where And Back Again, but I certainly did. I could see every line of emotion on her broken face (hey, whatever else I might think, the animation has steadily been getting better) as she watched her kingdom crumble all around thanks to those darn interfering ponies. I suppose next, these new sorry excuses for Changelings will be born at the end of rainbows and moonbeams, instead of hatched from parasitic eggs. Don't want to offend the vegans out there, after all. Sigh.
Why didn't Starlight and company let her be, to continue her reign of terror in peace? They could have quite easily foiled her dastardly plot to replace the Elements Of Harmony and the entire royal family, to allow them to freely return to the 'Darklands' afterwards, and that would have been that. But nope... Ms Glimmer and chums decided to irreparably change the entire societal fabric and lifestyle of these formerly loathsome beasties too, not to mention throw them into a metaphorical paint factory just as it was exploding. The end result was colourful, lovely and cuddly for the so-called 'target audience'... but soul-crushingly dispiriting for any viewer who appreciated a bit of gloom to go with their gloss.
So that's why, in the year the 'Big Movie' is released, and seasons seven and eight have officially been confirmed, I'm packing it all in. If they want to cater almost exclusively for a younger market, along with the introduction of obnoxious characters like the kid-pleasing Flurry Heart and the grating griffon Gabby, they're welcome to it.
They can leave me out though, and as I divide my various merchandise from the show into separate heaps (charity shop/ eBay/ landfill etc.) I start to consider new fandoms I can join instead. It's a shame that Gravity Falls has just finished, that looked quite promising. Steven Universe is good, despite the fact it's scheduling is erratic at best, and Star Vs The Forces Of Evil might be interesting if they focused a bit less on the shipping. Perhaps I ought to try something anime-related, though I hear some of those otakus can get quite intense...
It's as I'm considering all my options that a strange mirror-like rift opens in front of me, the air it emits putting out my blazing cuddly toy fire and prematurely jolting me back to reality. That's if this is reality, I take leave to doubt it after seeing this weird gap in time and space appear in my front yard, especially when I see whose grotesque face pops through to gawk at my open-mouthed form.
Yup, it's Queen Chrysalis herself, looking distinctly more fierce and less cartoony than her TV appearances would suggest. With a wicked sneer present on her regal visage, the disembodied head scans my nonplussed form up and down for a few disturbing seconds, and before I even have chance to ask for an autograph or how the heck she's Skypeing me from an alternate dimension, I hear what she has to say to me.
"Sssoooo, I hear you're sympathetic to my cause, eh? Many are the worlds in which I've traveled to find such as you. The fact you're burning my worst enemies puts the seal on the deal... you're the one I've been searching for to help me take back my crown. Of course, in your current pathetic, weak state, you're no help to me, that's why I'll be making some minor modifications to your DNA. Come now, the portal closes in a minute. All aboard..."
As you can appreciate, I didn't quite know what to make of this 'kind offer'. I stood there, rubbed my eyes like a total goonball and was about to utter something intellectual like "Giggety giggety giggety giggety." (Not in a I'm-Quagmire-and-I-want-to-seduce-you sort of way, more in a I'm-completely-speechless-and-don't-know-what-to-say kind of fashion).
Unfortunately, Chrysalis wasn't the most patient of despotic rulers, and decided to take matters into her own hooves. "Hey fleshling..." she snarled, losing all pretense of good manners. "Did I say you had a choice?"
And with one sudden movement, she grabbed me in a single gnarled hoof to pull me through her little mystical door, just before it shut. My last memories before embracing the darkness completely were my captor's despicable laughter, my own body feeling very weird and the fact that I'd left the front door wide open.
It's good to have a lie-in at the weekend, isn't it? After a hard week in the factory tightening toothpaste caps, I deserve a nice, long rest. My four holey legs curled up together on the comfortable rocky ground, as I tucked my gossamer wings in for extra warmth. A soft soprano sigh left my black lips, while I instinctively licked my sharpened fangs. I opened my massive bug-eyes to check what the time was on my mantelpiece alarm clock...
Now, here's a little quiz for you puzzle-lovers out there. See if you can spot at least six things wrong with the above paragraph, discounting the last bit about the missing timepiece. If you spot them all, I totally give you permission to boast about your proud accomplishment to all your little friends.
Prizes? You must be joking. My unguarded, wide-open home property is in all likelihood getting ram-raided even as I yawn. By the time I return, I'll be lucky to have a pot to piss in, thanks to the thieving pissheads that comprise my neighbourhood.
And, who's going to feed the cat? Or, defrost the freezer? Or... Oops. As someone wise once told me: 'Priorities, priorities'...
Yup, it's safe to say I'm not in Kansas anymore, or indeed anywhere vaguely habitable. All I see when I glance around in despair is a dull cave, with no air conditioning or even a vase of flowers to brighten the dismal atmosphere. In fact, in this poor lighting, it's very hard for me to make out any specific detail, apart from 'luscious' greys and 'sparkling' blacks. My limited perception is perhaps not helped by the narrow palette of my new insectoid optics. Ugh.
Not that I'm really 'bugging out' at this stage (see what I mean about my brilliant sense of humour) because this is all just some sinister nightmare, bought on by too many late-evening viewings of that 80's horror classic 'The Fly'. Soon my normal, bipedal form will be up and about in mildly sunnier climes, thrashing unsuspecting noobs at Super Smash Bros online while ordering Domino's takeout. You can't beat a slice or two o' Hawaiian, even though it does give me horrible diarrhe...
"Get up, you useless drone! We have work to do!"
In case there was still any lingering doubt inside my ailing brain, a swift kick to my ribs did the trick to convince me this was not all, in fact, an abominable fantasy. That, and the impact my head made as it bashed the side of the stone wall, not to mention the accompanying breathlessness.
"I didn't bring you all the way here to sleep all day, idiot! Transforming you into my newest underling has taken what little power I had left, and now that the deed is done... I expect to be paid back. In spades!!"
Hey, easy there, lady. I didn't ask you to transmogrify me to become this freak of nature, or teleport my good self to a location more barren and depressing than Slough town centre on a Wednesda... wait.
Why am I cracking jokes at a time when everything I was and everything I knew has gone, and I'm cowering stark naked in the presence of Her Royal Bitchiness, a villainess who I only thought existed in a harmless twenty-two minute animated series for kiddiewinks just a little while ago? (Discounting the eight minutes set aside for terrible commercials. Natch).
It's delayed shock, it must be. I'm sure I'll be running around, screaming blue murder later on when the full repercussions of my dimensional-hopping and body-swapping begin to sink in. Until then though, I just kind of gaze numbly at my apocalyptic surroundings as my new 'benefactor' helps me to my four feet... well, it's more like she grabs me by the front horn (since when did I have- oh, never mind) to pull me upwards, but let's not split hairs, eh? God, I miss having hair.
"Now, you listen to me!!" Uh-oh. She's shouting in my withered earhole again. Something tells me I caught her on a bad day. "I'm aware you know about our world. I've seen your miserable species spying on Equestria for quite some time now, did you honestly think you could get away with such blatant invasion of privacy for so long, without dire consequences?!"
I wanted to inform the decaying old nag of the bare-faced hypocrisy of what she spoke, seeing as she'd apparently been engaged in a similar kind of illicit surveillance, but somehow I just couldn't find the words. Instead, I found a hoof replete with more holes than a Swiss cheese leveled at my throat, and a narrowed pair of piercing green eyes boring into my own. In case I hadn't figured it out, this madam meant business.
"I've stripped you of the ability to talk for now, along with those tawdry rags you wore upon arrival. Not that they'd fit you in your present condition, anyway..." She laughed manically, tossing her translucent mane about like an old shower curtain. "You're going to be just like all my other favourite hatchlings... obedient, and quiet. It's communication after all, that led to my betrayal at the hooves of he-who-will-not-be-named. When I'm returned to prominence, and he's thrust in front of my throne, just you watch me tear him limb from limb..."
Any fairweather fan of MLP knows that the deposed queen was referring to that mild-mannered Changeling called Thorax, but I was so busy suffocating at this stage due to her tightening grip I couldn't really concentrate. Fortunately, in the midst of her apoplexy, she finally realised she was choking me half to death, and dropped me like a sack of spuds.
"Hmm... it wouldn't be advantageous for me to cause you too much physical harm, at this stage..." My new not-exactly benevolent 'mistress' remarked, as she watched my spluttering and wheezing form stumble about with obvious amusement. "Not as long as you're still an asset to me. Now, I have a flawless plan in mind to restore me to my rightful position and destroy those disgusting ponies forever more. You have the great honour of playing a central role, but not in the pitiful state you are now. Which is why we're here, in the wilderness, thousands of miles away from any habitation. Welcome to your new home..."
She growled those last five words with utter contempt, as if telling me in no uncertain terms to 'like it or lump it'. Well, there certainly wasn't much to crow about here... just a dark, dank grotto ringed by decomposed plant life, highlighted by a starless sky lit in permanent midnight hues. Heck, even the worst possible future Twilight showed Starlight during their time-travel shenanigans seemed downright cozy compared to this endless wasteland.
"Finished the grand tour? Good." I felt my fanged jaw being involuntarily shoved forward so I faced Chrysalis's leering visage once more. "It's not exactly the Castle Of Friendship, but you'll get used to it. You'd better for your own sake, anyway. You'll be training here every single day until you learn to pass as one of our kind. Flight, mobility, our ancient culture. shape-shifting... all of this will be on the agenda, and your success or failure will hinge on whether I ever send you back to your worthless little space rock ever again, or even if you're still alive at the end of the week..."
You mean... there's a chance I might still be able to get home? My spirits, that had been as low as the temperature of this freezing wind that blasted through the wretched cavern, suddenly rose up once more upon hearing this promising news. I couldn't help but smile a hopeful, toothy grin at my new 'teacher', which considering the embittered mood she currently found herself in, was hardly the right course of action.
"D-Don't be so grateful, pest!" Her stinging backhoof sent me sprawling to the floor once more, but not fast enough for me to miss the hint of a blush, even through her pitch-black cheeks. "I'm going to be working you tirelessly day and night until you get it right, and the only time you'll nap will be in your dreams! Now, seeing as we're going to unfortunately spend a lot of time together, I suppose it would be frugal to think of giving you a name. Hmm... I'm going to call you 'Chrystal'. With a 'h' between the 'C' and the 'r', in case there's any confusion. Just call it a personal touch. We'll also have to establish some ground rules around here. For example: I'm the only one who lays the eggs. Is that 'Chrystal' clear?! Bwhaha..."
At this late stage, I didn't think anything else could shock me. But now, a few other undesired realisations began to click in my head: The girlish yowling when I woke up in this outback... the fact this monstrosity had given me a female moniker... and her comment about 'laying eggs'. No, it couldn't possibly...
But a quick examination of my belly and groin area did nothing to allay my fears. I detected the unwelcome evidence of dozens of teats, almost enough to feed an entire army (apparently, Changelings don't start chowing down on love until they're older). That wasn't even the worst part, though...
"Oh sorry, I forgot to mention something else, sweetheart..." Chrysalis smirked evilly, as I let out an unholy shriek that seemed to shake the very foundations of the cave. "The fact is, I've always thought females showed more loyalty than males, as demonstrated by recent events, and so I made another small adjustment during your creation..."
I'm sure I would have loved to hear the rest of that sentence, but when you're simultaneously in deranged hysterics and rapidly losing consciousness, it's a little tricky to focus.
"Hup-to! Hup-to! Come on, you worthless sack of pony droppings: I want to see that disgustingly puny body of yours give me at least at least another forty! Don't you ever want to go home... to meet up with your friends, family or whatever else might be waiting for you back on that dismal green and blue floating orb in the sky? Because at the moment, you're far closer to seeing a close-up of my hoof imprinted in your face again, than any nauseatingly sweet happy reunions. Now, lift your head up... stretch those muscles... and stop shaming the entire Changeling race with your pathetic efforts, if you would be so kind!"
Huh, it's alright for her... I thought exhaustedly as I struggled to raise my weary head more than a few feet off the rocky ground. She was born in this crazy, mixed-up world, as well being one of the most powerful villains in the entire canon. Me? I'm the bumbling tourist on the scene, with absolutely no clue where I am (I didn't recognise this region on my Official Map To Equestria wall poster, funnily enough) and stuck in the unfamiliar, feeble form of a mute hole-ridden bug monster who happens to be female to hoof. Still, the jokes on her. At least I'm still alive. Ha Ha Ha... Ouch.
"I said, I want more push-ups!" Her Queen Bitchiness otherwise known as Chrysalis demanded loudly, as she clobbered me for what felt like the billionth time that week. "I'm training you to be a super-soldier, not a super-slacker!! You've already proven your worthlessness by barely being able to hover a few feet off the ground, forgetting the first four stages of a Changeling's life cycle constantly despite plentiful biology lessons and the only way you can eat right now is through sachets of love packaged by yours truly! And, thanks to your incessant appetite, we're down to our last few reserves! Sometimes I think I should just throw you off that cliff over there and start my search anew for a lackey who's the least bit competent. So, unless you wish to start plummeting like a crippled pegasus, you'd better start giving me some damn effort instead of getting distracted by idiotic internal monologues! No more lollygagging for you... we'll start from the beginning again. Now, go."
Frowning intensely while gnashing all two of my teeth together, I wisely decided that discretion was the better part of valour and I didn't share my personal thoughts with Chrysalis at that time because a) I was never too good at charades and b) she was at least ten times bigger than me, and could tear me up into black confetti while simultaneously taking a pee. I actually saw the latter once, and it wasn't a very pretty sight. Let me just mention the word 'acidic', and also add that the lack of plantlife around here was no longer a mystery, and you should be able to get the picture.
Anyway, I couldn't help but feel the ahem 'lady' was being a trifle harsh with her criticism regarding my popularity at home and the progress I'd made so far since I became a decaying freak. Sure, most of my family thought I was a Grade A loser who'd never amount to anything, my friends regarded me with the same level of affection one reserves for a virulent case of foot fungus and the last time I had a steady girlfriend was when the PS2 and Dreamcast were all the rage. But the barman always seemed to love my visits, he would often listen to me ramble on for hours about the unfairness of life... as long as I ordered a drink every ten minutes, of course. Real understanding guy, that one. I'll miss him while I'm stuck in Mad Max country.
Also, I'm pretty sure that my uncompromising trainer was only being extra tough because she wanted to push me to ever-dizzying new heights. I had in fact, managed to soar a whole two inches into the wild blue yonder the other day, and could even give you the name for a baby Changeling as a result of my continual studies. It's 'hatchling'. Clever, huh? And yes, I have been stuffing my face with the precious last few reserves of our love supply, but its not like there's anything else to eat in this desolate wasteland, right? I optimistically thought I may have spotted a wormy-worm squiggling through a gap in the solid rock the other day, but it turned out to be just another half-dead weed poking its head through. Great. Radiohead songs must sound like odes to joy compared to my current lifeless surroundings. I don't envy the guy who'd have to collaborate snaps of this dump for a holiday brochure, put it that way.
Anyway, despite a rather tenuous start to my budding relationship with the Ruler Of All That Is Dark And Unholy, I actually thought we were making some headway. Every time she slapped me about now when I 'dared' to glance in her direction, she didn't beat me up with nearly as much vigour as before... only leaving bruises instead of scars. And when she viciously bites me for yawning during a particularly strenuous physical activity, she only gives me a little nip instead of chewing straight through the bone. That is, if Changelings even have bones. Perhaps that's something that I'll have to ask her later on this evening, when she's in a slightly better mood. Usually, that's the hour she begins describing all the gory ways she's going to dissect Thorax after her inevitable return to power, and how she plans to convert every single damn equine into her mindless slaves. Somewhere between her wicked sneer from ear to ear and her disturbing spine-tingling cackle, they'll be a window of opportunity for my essential question.
In the meantime though, she was performing the part of tireless taskmaster flawlessly, encircling my strained form while beaming obscenities directly into my ailing brain. You could've taken a montage of all the work-outs I've done in the last seven days, paired it with some 'inspirational' music and it would be a hoof-in for any Rocky movie ever made (apart from the last one, it sucked). The only difference being: the improvements I'd made were not quite that radical, and I get the feeling that Eye Of The Tiger was not quite ol' Chrysalis's jam. Something by Iron Maiden might get that dark booty a-shaking, or Slayer perhaps. In fact, this entire sector could be featured as one of their album covers. Maybe I'll put a playlist together for her, if she asks me real nice like.
I'm thinking so hard about such important matters as a Changeling Queen's favourite heavy metal bands and focusing so much on my undeniably virulent case of Stockholm Syndrome, that I completely miss the events of the next few minutes, until the 'beauty' herself brings it up. "H-Hang on... did you just do fifty push-ups without breaking a sweat or even needing me to 'gently nudge' you in the ribs?! I told you I only wanted forty. S-Stop right now, you useless bug. D-Don't you ever listen...?"
Uh Oh. I've been so caught up in my own intricate little daydreams that I'd completely forgot about Her Ladyship's specific instructions. Now, I'll be for it. At least I've discovered a nice, dank spot in the corner of our shared cave where I can recuperate from my numerous injuries. Sounds like I'll be curling up there again tonight, if previous experiences with Madam's temper are anything to go by. Time to brace myself...
Amazingly enough though, the endless torrent of punches, kicks and nibbles never came. The only sensation I felt in the next few seconds I spent cowering on the ground was the whip of the ice cold wind as it lightly caressed my shaking, ready-to-be pulverised form. After many tense seconds of perpetual agony waiting for the big beatdown that never arrived, I somehow mustered the strength to tentatively look upwards...
...And to say I was utterly shocked beyond all reasonable measure would've been the understatement of the millennium. Not that time would've meant much to this apparently ageless Queen, but aannyywwaayy... here she was gazing down at me with a barely disguised mixture of surprise and pride, without a smidgen of her usual toxic hostility. No doubt in the heat of the moment, I found myself blushing a little too: heck, she may have transported me here totally against my will and transmogrified me into this abomination of femininity, but at least she'd just shown the merest hint of happiness for my recent accomplishments. Which is far more than my mother and father ever did for moi. Gotta give her props for that.
Realising that maybe she might be demonstrating just a little too much affection for a simple underling, Chrysalis quickly shook her face free of all unwanted emotion and attempted to address me sternly once more. Her voice however, carried noticeably less venom than before. "W-Well, Chrystal... you've finally proven you can do basic drill exercises, just like every other Changeling who ever lived. Bully for you. Tell you what: I could do with a laugh now. Why don't you try flapping those little nubs you call wings, and fly out to that tiny rocky outcrop way out there in the middle of that pit? If you make it, maybe, just maybe I'll think that we're starting to get somewhere. If not, at least it'll saved me the trouble of wiping your green blood off my hooves. Now, move... please."
My anxious bug eyes followed the sweep of her limb towards a thin piece of land in the centre of a large chasm, and a loud gulp escaped from the back of my throat. With great reluctance and under the watchful stare of my 'Mistress', I tottered over to the edge of the large expanse of black, accidentally dislodging a pebble en route at the conclusion of my short journey.
I listened intently as it bounced downwards for about a minute. I didn't hear any echo. Oh no. Maybe this isn't such a good idea after...
"I said go, you dribbling nincompoop!" Unfortunately, when you have a deposed monarch around as demanding as Chrysalis, the phrase 'I'm having second thoughts' simply doesn't exist. I felt a large hoof shove me in my back, and immediately realised I was falling, falling... goodbye, cruel world. Who'd have thought it would end like this? Killed by a fictional children's villain, in a cartoon wonderland. Try hiring someone to carve that onto my obituary...
...Wait just a life-preserving minute. I'm not falling, falling, falling... I'm flying, flying, flying! Yup, it's all true... somehow the threat of plunging down a bottomless hole for the rest of my unnatural existence has given me the boost I need to move these formerly useless appendages on my back and utilise them for the purpose for which they were actually intended. I looked around in awe to see my titchy wings flapping away like no-one's business, keeping me suspended in mid-air... which was a great accompaniment to the satisfying spectacle of Chrysalis's jaw hitting the ground. Well, not literally: but let's just say her mouth was so wide open in amazement, I could see her darkened tonsils. Huh, Changelings have tonsils. You learn something new every...
"D-Did you forget what I just said, grunt? Fly all the way to the outcrop, then return. Maybe then I'll think that what I'm seeing right now isn't a total fluke caused by the imminent threat of your impending demise." Oops, she's at it again, trying to camouflage her obvious admiration for my startling feat. As I'm sure I stated in a previous chapter, I don't watch a lot of anime, but I do believe Chrysalis is proving herself to be quite the 'tsundere'. If I've spelt it wrong, I'm sorry... it's the first time I've ever had to use that term. My journey into the world of stilted animation and dub versus sub debates starts here. Huzzah.
Regardless, heartened as I was by Chrysalis's subtle yet growing affection for me, it was a cinch to flit over to that little piece of land over the pit, and make my way back again. At least... that's what I thought. For you see, even though I'd finally learned how to do a little more with my wings than levitate slightly above ground like a hummingbird, my underused attachments were still not quite strong enough to keep me airborne for very long, and just as I was about to reach the other side again, they gave way fully. Once more, I found myself falling, falling... So near and yet so....
"It's okay, I've got you!" What the... do mine own eyes deceive me, or did Chrysalis just... No, I hadn't actually gone nuts, but after the events of the last week, who can blame me? It was indeed a hard, solid truth that The Evil Queen had caught me, just as it looked as though I was about to suffer a fate worse than tumbling through interminable blackness for all of eternity (hang on, that would be my fate). She quickly lifted my frantically thrashing form upwards before depositing it roughly on the rim of the chasm, and watched thoughtfully as I kissed the sweet, sweet rock after my all-too-close brush with the Grim Reaper. Or whatever controls death in this parallel universe I've been foisted into (are Applejack's parents really dead? Hmm...)
"Well, you did fail miserably at the final hurdle, maggot..." She pondered, while raising what could possibly pass for an eyebrow. "But I have to say: you did a little better than I expected. Maybe you're not a totally lost cause after all. Just don't take your life for granted so much in the future, you belong to me, remember? Now, if we could only get you to remember a few basic facts about the Changeling dynasty so you can fool my poor naive children who've flocked to that traitor Thorax's banner, and learn how to forcibly exert love from the most basic of creatures so you don't have to keep eking out our meagre supplies, perhaps we can think about moving onto the next stage. Come now: intensive training for the rest of the day."
As I was dragged off by an unsympathetic Chrysalis, I had to ask myself: was all this worth it? Why didn't I just bash my brains out with a rock or purposefully starve myself, to save this decrepit body even more torture that surely lie ahead? Even if by some miracle I managed to pass all of Chrysalis's remaining tests, there's no way I'll be able to fool thousands upon thousands of reformed Changelings that I'm one of them. I was the wrong colour(s) for a start, and watching them on a TV screen was no substitute for living and breeding with the real things...
Breeding?! Oh no. Whatever put that disturbing thought in my brain?! I've suddenly got a thumping headache. Something tells me there's no paracetamol round here, either. Looks like its going to be another one of those days here in beautiful, bleak Equestria.
