My Strange Ponies

by CTVulpin

Rating: everyone
Tags: Queen Chrysalis, Random, Slice of Life, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Original Character
Length: 15303

Anthology of dream-inspired short-shorts starring off-beat ponies and strange scenarios

This is a collection of short-short stories and character concepts inspired by the odd pony-related dreams I seem to get every Saturday morning before the new episode airs. The main attraction will be Skin's Tales of Tartarus, the slice of life misadventures of a laid back and somewhat cocky skinless pony living and working in Tartarus. Beyond that, I won't promise any outstanding plots or well-constructed characters; it's just whatever my subconscious cooks up that I think can actually survive the transmission to text form.

Character and genre tags will be added as appropriate.

Picture (by BetweenFriends) may or may not be indicative of how weird things will get.

Published 2012-04-08 03:54:05 UTC
Last updated 2012-08-16 16:44:52 UTC

Skin's Story

Hello there, I’m Skin. I’m one of those ponies who has a super-important job to do for Ol’ Mother Horse Celestia that you’ll probably never know about because I work in Tartarus keeping an eye out for evil spirits who manage to slip past Cerberus and out into Equestria proper. I’m not supposed to talk to or be seen by regular ponies anyway because my name is something of a dark joke; I don’t actually have any skin. Ok, technically I do but it’s a very thin and totally transparent layer (except for my eyelids for some reason, those are opaque) that keeps everything in place, so you can totally see my perfect musculature and whatnot. Apparently that freaks non-Tartarus ponies out… Oh, and I can copy your look if I want. All it takes is one lick.

=======

So, being an internal guard of Tartarus isn’t usually that exciting because the seals, soul jars, and cold iron boxes do their job at keeping the evil spirits contained, and Cerberus is usually reliable as a watchdog; we just need to make sure he gets a walk every decade or so. My days usually consist of walking around, taunting the spirits who are allowed to be aware of their situation, and playing dice games. I’m not complaining, but a little excitement every now and then seems to be too much to ask for. I always regret when such wishes get granted. Like the one time it was my turn to walk Cerberus but I put it off because I was too busy cleaning up in the weekly craps game. Three-heads decided to head off on his own, ending up halfway across Equestria, which caused no end of panic in the office. At least the Ol’ MH herself was understanding enough not to fire me. If she can even do that… I was just finishing making up the lost dog posters she told me to make and passing them on to her when some remarkably clear-headed unicorn mare earned herself a gold star for the century by trotting right up to the gates with Cerby right behind her, all six eyes focused on a little rubber ball. At least, that’s what I heard. No skin off my nose, so to speak, if somepony was just pulling my leg with that story. The dog was back and everything was a-ok.

Actually, not so much, as I found out a few days later. I guess the Powers That Be caught on to my disappointment at not getting to go out on a three-headed-dog hunt, because one of bosses, Dark Applejack to be precise, the one who disapproves of my gambling for some reason, broke up my Yahtzee racket, er, game… Anyway, she told me that the Shadow Arachneus had apparently slipped out of its cozy little can and made it out of the gates while Cerberus was gone. She showed me the empty can, not that I doubted her, and told me in no uncertain terms that I was to go out and capture it. I agreed of course, but not without a little hesitancy.

“Why am I only hearing about this now?” I asked, “Shouldn’t we have been hearing about Arachneus stampeding around already if it got out back then?”

“It might be playin’ smart and layin’ low until it thinks we ain’t gonna come after it,” Dark Applejack replied, pressing the can into my chest, “Now git yer hair-and-hideless flank out there an’ catch it before it gets any ideas. And don’t get spotted.”

“Yes ma’am,” I said with a roll of my eyes. I considered giving her a good-bye lick, but the look in her eye made me realize that I value the current location of my liver more than the chance to gross her out and get a temporary disguise in the process. So, with nothing more than the sealing can and my unbeatable sneaking skills to aid me, I sauntered out of Tartarus to go spider hunting.

Now, seeing as the Shadow Arachneus is on the list of spirits locked away in Tartarus, you don’t get any prizes for guessing that it’s a big piece of bad news. It’s a spider composed entirely of shadows and a mind focused only on causing massive property damage and giving everypony a paralyzing case of arachnophobia. Its power is equal to its size, so the can we keep it in is about as big around as my hoof and no more than three inches tall. Not at all a hassle to carry around in one’s mouth for four days straight. Nope. Not like I had anyone to talk to along the way anyhow. I did bump into one pony by accident on the second day, a pretty but skinny blue unicorn with silvery hair and wearing a much-patched purple cape. Poor thing fainted dead away at the sight of me standing there in the flesh, although hunger might’ve played a small role in it by the looks of her visible ribs. Never one to pass up an opportunity to help a lady in need, I dragged her to a clearing I’d passed earlier that was simply filled with succulent-looking blue flowers and gave her a nice wet lick on the cheek to revive her, taking payment for services rendered by borrowing her appearance at the same time. Turns out there was a very good reason she’d been traveling the way she had been when we’d met and why she looked like she’d been starving: poor filly had caught a bad case of Angry Mob in the nearest settlement. At least I ended up leading them away from the real thing, though I had to ditch the disguise sooner than I’d have liked. I’m about sixty percent sure I’m immortal, but sharp flying rocks still hurt worse than ending up with a manticore stinger in your shoulder. Bruises last longer at any rate…

When I finally found Arachneus I once again had to wonder how we’d failed to notice its absence from Tartarus or its presence in Equestria until long after Cerberus’s impromptu day off. The can in my mouth was woefully inadequate to contain the sixty-foot tall, eight-legged shadow of destruction taking a stroll through the Everfree Forest. Well, there was nothing else for it, so I walked up to it, bucked it in the leg to get its attention, and then set the can down, pointed to it and said, “Get in.” You may think me crazy, but I’ve used that exact same strategy on Tirek himself with complete success. Admittedly, I’d confiscated his Rainbow of Darkness first, but I said “get in” and he got back in his cell without a fuss. Arachneus wasn’t having any of it though and tried to get some karmic revenge for all the less evil and noticeably more coporeal spiders that have ever been squashed underhoof. Again, I’m pretty sure I’m immortal, but being pancaked is not on my bucket list, so while he raised his leg to step on me, I prepared to run for my life and think up a new strategy. We were both taken by surprise when a wave of rainbow light arced up from somewhere behind the giant shadowy arachnid, struck it in the thorax, and then wrapped it up in a cocoon of magic that squished it down to the size of a bit coin before dropping it. We looked at each other for a few moments before I slid the can toward him and said, “Let’s try that again. Get in.” He was more than happy to oblige and within a few seconds I had the lid on and the seal restored, all ready to take back to headquarters. And then I got hit in the face with a rainbow.

I probably should’ve been able to guess when I saw the rainbow pull a shrinky-dink on Shadow Arachneus, but getting it full in the face and coming out with nothing more than a severely spiced-out tongue (Although my mane probably would’ve been blown back if I had one) told me exactly what and who I was dealing with. I’d never seen the Elements of Harmony for myself, but you’d have to be a whole new class of ignorant fool to be an agent of goodness and not know about them and the six new Bearers. And thanks to six of the top-rankers in Tartarus deciding to remake themselves as “Dark” versions of those mares a couple weeks after Nightmare Moon’s final defeat, I could put a name to each shocked, astounded, and tired face as they saw me emerge unscathed from their Super Friendship Beam. When I smiled and waved at them, Rarity and Fluttershy fainted while the others looked like they were going to be sick.

I was going to be in so much trouble when I got back…

Smooze Duty

Quick karma tally: Taking too long at a craps game leads to Cerberus running off on his own, slight negative karma. Shadow Arachneus escapes his can and sneaks out during the frantic dog search, not entirely my fault so no karma. I go out and re-capture said Arachneus before it can do more than flatten a few trees in the Everfree Forest, good karma. The six bearers of the Elements of Harmony (and one other random mare…) see me in all my hairless, transparent-skinned, exposed-muscles-and-innards glory, major bad karma.

I shouldn’t have been surprised, therefore, to be first thanked for a job well done upon my return by Dark Twilight and then smacked upside the head by Dark Pinkie (there’s irony there I’m sure…) and given a week’s duty mucking out the Smooze in the deepest corner of Tartarus. I honestly don’t know why that multi-faced all-consuming goop isn’t locked up in something less… leaky than its current spell-glass tank or why it’s allowed to talk. Actually, it can be quite entertaining when it talks, especially if you can get the heads, which can number anywhere between three and eight at any given time, to argue amongst themselves. It’s surprisingly easy to do that now that I think about it; Smooze must get pretty bored if it can’t spread. Still, mopping up and disposing of its never-ending secretions (which don’t taste all that great. Don’t ask me how I know) is definitely one of the less-enviable jobs in Tartarus. I barely get any time for a decent dice game. What with Cerby’s escape and everything it resulted in, I’m starting to suspect that the Powers That Be have it in for me this month.

“Finally screwed up big time, eh Pound O’Flesh?”

Scratch that; I am definitely the universe’s plaything right now… Now keep this in mind: the Tartarus Guard is made up of freaks, the grotesque, and me. Everypony (and I use the term loosely mind you) has at least one prominent feature that would be considered quite unfitting for moving about Equestria Proper, and that’s normal for us. Consider that when I tell you that the pony who had just addressed me, a white mare named Tibia who takes the phrase “skin and bones” to the literal extreme, scares me down to my usually immaculate hooves and right back up to the crown of my bone-bald head. It’s not just me either; she gives everypony I regularly associate with the willies, including the Dark Six. There’s just something about the way she carries herself, how she never leaks fluid of any sort when she gets wounded – even in the eye, and how she always calls me “Pound O’Flesh” like she wants to eat me and put on some actual weight… I have licked and copied the appearance of every single equine-form in Tartarus at least five times in my life, and that includes some of the inmates, except for Tibia because I don’t want to be anywhere within sight of her. I’d rather spend a day inside the Smooze tank or have a chat with Shoguth the Gibbering.

Dropping everything and running for my – er, making a dignified withdrawal was a tempting option as she walked out of whatever dark corner she’d been stalking me from, but since I was fresh from capturing evil spider behemoths and rather inclined to stay in the good graces of the bosses I took the risk of standing my ground. Mostly docile Smooze at my back and creepy bone-mare before me. I could do this. I set down the gooper-scooper, gave Tibia my best poker face (which is pretty good, even if dice are more my game) and said, “Nope. Volunteered. Wanted to catch up with my good pal Smooze here.” Totally sold it; if I were a merchant I’d have just made a sixty percent profit.

Too bad Tibia wasn’t buying… “Really now,” she replied smoothly, “I’ve been working in this section for three months now and this is the first I’ve seen you around here.”

“Oh, so that’s why I’ve been having such a long string of good days.” Her creepy dark and sunken eyes somehow grew darker and a frown warped her mouth. Crap, did I say that out loud? Tibia knows I don’t like her, but actually mentioning it to her is inviting trouble. She begins to advance toward me, step by agonizing step. “What do you want with me?” I asked, backing away and casting my eyes around for something to distract her with. “Hey,” I exclaimed, pointing dramatically toward a cell across the way, “is that Grogar trying to break out?”

“I am doing nothing of the sort!” the ancient ram-demon shouted back, “Why don’t you get yourself out of that pickle without spreading lies?” The conscious prisoners may make for better company, but you just can’t count on them to play along when it’s important… I guess I can’t blame Grogar for watching Tibia torment me with amusement in his eyes, but surely Tibia’s done something nasty to him too. Catharthis. That must be it; he was enjoying seeing one of his jailers about to eat another. Admittedly, I’ve never heard of Tibia actually eating anypony, but I swear I could see genuine hunger in those dark pits she calls eyes.

The goat’s shout did make her stop and look his way for a second, but then she turned her gaze back on me and gave me a look that might have been exaggerated sadness if she actually had the facial muscles to pull it off. “Don’t be like that Skin,” she said, walking toward me again, “I just want to talk. How’s about a little kiss to apologize?”

“Kiss, yeah,” I said, taking another few steps back, and then raised my voice and added, “Would you be ok with that Grogar? Would a peck on the cheek make it up to ya, or would I need to do it full on the mouth?” My life was in danger from a walking bag of bones, but there was no way I was passing up any opening I could spot.

“What, for lying about me?” Grogar asked in return, “For that, I’ll need to see the two of you employ some tongue!” Ouch, total gambit backfire! Few things are more wounding to the pride… Is it really too much to ask for him to be on my side?

“Well, you heard the old goat,” Tibia said wickedly, “Come here and give me some, Fleshy!” With a grace and power far beyond what her appearance would suggest, she pounced toward me and, with far more grace, I ducked and rolled under her, leaving her to sail through the air and crash into the Smooze tank.

Ha! I thought triumphantly, not wanting to press my luck by openly mocking her, score one for the… “Iiiss that the sound of glass cracking?” As Tibia slid slowly and comically down the side of the tank, I saw a rapidly growing spider web of cracks spreading out from the point where her skull had impacted. After settling to the ground, she looked up and only had time to open her mouth before the glass gave way and eldritch purple slime came pouring out, sprouting faces that cheered excitedly.

“Smooze is loose!” Tibia was engulfed almost instantly.

“Smooze is loose!” I scrambled to my hooves and ran.

“Suh-moooooze!” Alarms began to blare around me as automatic emergency spells began to activate.
“We Smooze, you lose!” I made one last mighty leap of fate as the front of the Smooze wave formed another face and nipped at my heels.

“Nothing can stop the Sm-oof!” A large, thick, arcing pane of glass fell down between me and the Smooze, forming a larger, temporary tank with the back wall. I looked back and my breathless panting turned to breathless mirth at the sight of the grouchy and squashed Smooze-face being re-absorbed into the disappointed purple slime. The sound of slow hoof-clapping tore my attention away from the tank and toward Grogar’s cell. The grey goat-demon was applauding.

“Good show,” he said, affecting a high-class accent, “I am pleased you were able to execute that narrow escape. A pity about your marefriend though.” I rolled my eyes and didn’t favor him with a retort. As I looked back at the tank though, I couldn’t help but feel a measure of concern. Then Tibia appeared from out of the midst of the Smooze, slammed up against the glass by the internal motions of the all-consuming goop. She looked no worse for the wear in spite of the Smooze’s reputation for eating anything it engulfed. Her white fur, mane, and tail showed no bald patches, she clearly had all of her bones, and her eyes followed me as I paced in front of the tank a few times. She glared at me with the silent promise of unending pain and agony and I smiled back and gave her a cheery wave. Either we Tartarus guards are truly immortal, or Tibia’s such a horrible crime against nature that even an extreme omnivore won’t digest her. Both are acceptable options.

That spell-glass wouldn’t hold for long though. I needed to report the breach as soon as possible so the Smooze can be contained in a new, and hopefully less fragile, holding tank. And yes, that meant letting Tibia out as well, but every victory has a cost. As I turned to leave, however, Grogar made one last declaration: “Breaking that tank was entirely her fault. I’ll vouch for you on that.” Sure, now he’s on my side… There’s a reason we keep things like him locked up.

And Then Macintosh Was a Robot

The Friendship Express pulled into the Ponyville station and Twilight and Big Macinotsh stepped out to be greeted by Applejack. “Welcome back,” Applejack said, hugging her unicorn friend, “how was Appleoosa?”
“It was fine,” Twilight answered, “We got their apple tree fungus problem cleared up before it could do too much damage, and the settler ponies and buffalo tribe are still getting along great.”
“Great to hear,” Applejack said, clapping Twilight on the back, “I knew the two of you wouldn’t let them down. How ‘bout you Big Mac? Happy to be home?”
“Eeyup,” the red stallion said, “An’ I’m raring to get back ta the farm.”
“Yeah? Well there’s nothing urgent…” Applejack trailed off as she nudged her brother with her shoulder. “Ya sure yer feeling ok?” she asked, “Ya feel a bit chilly…”
“I’m fine AJ,” Big Macintosh said, walking away in the direction of the farm “Just hankerin’ fer some home-grown apples.”
“Ok,” AJ said unsurely, following him.

Applejack’s worries had faded by the time she and Big Macinotsh returned to Sweet Apple Acres. The large red earth stallion was behaving like his normal strong and silent self and his appetite for lunch was perfectly normal. Apple Bloom and Granny Smith both commented on how strangely cool his body felt when they welcomed him home, but since that was the only abnormal thing about him they didn’t comment further or protest his insistence on getting back to work. After catching up on his plowing, he hitched up to the big apple cart and hauled it out into the orchard where AJ was apple-bucking.
“Perfect timin’ big brother,” the orange mare said as he entered the section of orchard she was working in, “I got six trees worth of apples ready ta load up.”
“Eeyup,” Macintosh said simply, seeing the full baskets sitting at the bases of the nearby trees. He started toward them, but as he passed under a branch a large golden delicious that had stubbornly withstood AJ’s bucking decided to come loose on its own and fell with a heavy thud right between Macintosh’s ears. “Ow…” he said, rubbing his head.
“Hahaha!” Applejack laughed as she came over to him, “Hoo, sorry Big Mac, but that was the funniest co-inky-dink I ever-” she froze in her tracks as she saw his green eyes laying in the dirt in front of him. In stunned silence, she slowly looked up to see black orbs with glowing red pupils in her brother’s eye sockets. “H-humuna…” she babbled before her mind locked up and she fainted.

“TWILIGHT!” The front door the library splintered as Applejack bucked it open and charged inside, grabbing the startled lavender unicorn and pressing her up against the table before she could even blink. “What happened to Big Macintosh?”
“Applejack, what are you-” Twilight started to say.
“He’s a bucking robot!” Applejack screamed, “Mah big brother’s been kidnapped and replaced with a robot duplicate!”
“Oh,” Twilight said, averting her eyes, “You found out huh?”
“We’re probably under attack by pony-snatching… what did you just say?” AJ said, suspicion quickly replacing the panic in her voice. Twilight bit her lip and looked around wildly. Her horn started to glow with a rising whine, but AJ gave the pointy appendage a smack and interrupted the spell before it could be cast. “What’s going on Twi?” the farm-pony asked.
“AJ…” Twilight said pleadingly, and then sighed and said, “Fine, I’ll tell you. Just put me down.” Applejack let her go and stepped back, an expectant look in her hard eyes. “You remember the first apple-buck season after I came to Ponyville?”
“Yeah,” AJ drawled, “I worked mahself nearly ta death ‘cuz Mac had hurt himself and I was too stubborn ta ask fer help.”
“That’s mostly true,” Twilight said, “Except it was Granny Smith who had hurt herself. Big Macintosh never existed until your mind invented him from the depths of your sleep-deprived delusions. Even after we got you to admit defeat and ask for help and all your other problems went away, you thought Macintosh was real. You’d even inserted him into all your filly-hood memories. After a little while, we realized that Granny Smith wasn’t going to get well enough to apple-buck ever again, and Apple Bloom’s still too young to help you, so we agreed to make your imaginary big brother real.”
“What?” Applejack exclaimed, “What kinda hooey is that? T’ain’t no way you coulda pulled that off. I mean, I don’t doubt that between your smarts, Rarity’s eye fer details, and Pinkie Pie you could make a convincing pony robot, but everypony in town, neigh, the entire Apple Family knows Big Macintosh and remembers doing stuff with ‘im long before I ever met you Twilight. How in the hay could you maintain a consistent story between so many ponies. Just ain’t possible.”
“You, know you’re right AJ,” Twilight said, nodding.
“I am?” AJ responded, confused.
“There’s only one other explanation,” Twilight said, her voice suddenly shifting from her own to that of Apple Bloom, “Yer dreamin’ Applejack. Wake up!”

“Gwah!” Applejack gasped as she sat up suddenly in bed, cold with sweat. It was night time, the moonlight streaming in through her bedroom window, and her siblings were gathered around her bed, looking worried. AJ took a deep calming breath and wiped a leg across her brow. “Land sakes, that was a doozy,” she said, and then looked at Big Macintosh and gave him a crooked smile, saying, “I dreamed you was a robot and everyone but me knew about it.”
“That does sound like a crazy one,” the red stallion chuckled, and then turned to leave. “Well, I better get back ta sleep mahself.”
“Me too,” Apple Bloom said with a yawn, “Gotta recharge the ol’ batteries after all the crusadin’ I did today. Night Applejack.”
“G’night,” AJ said, settling back under the covers. As she closed her eyes however, she thought she heard the sound of hydraulics and rotating disks. Cracking one eye open, she saw Apple Bloom leaving the room, her small legs moving with a strange stiffness. The filly turned around after crossing the threshold and gripped the door handle in her mouth to close the door, and as she did so her eyes seemed to flash for a second. Just… just the moonlight reflecting in ‘em, that’s all, Applejack thought to herself and she tried to relax, nothin’ ta worry about.
…
Come ta think of it though… Ma and Pa haven’t been around these parts since I was a filly.
…
How long has Apple Bloom been living here?

Welcome to Tartarus

I have the greatest job in the world. I get free run of Tartarus when there isn’t an emergency, I’m one of the first guards to be chosen for retrieval missions when there is a break-out, I’m never held responsible for the questionable integrity of the holding cells, tanks, and whatnot, and I’ve got full room and board as my pay. We don’t exactly have money in Tartarus, and I’m not too sure where the food comes from but nopony bats an eye at how much anyone eats (unless you stay between Dark Rainbow Dash and the cloudcakes for too long). Seeing as we’re technically isolated from Equestria Proper down here, trade and economics don’t exactly play a role in our little society of freaks. And yet we gamble.

For the most part we just gamble with chits assigned with arbitrary values, although on occasion we’ll gather up bunches of grapes or tins of mints and use those. Most games are casual affairs, playing until we’re bored or until one pony has all the chits and then walking away without a second thought. However, we also have a full-blown continuous league of sorts where the chits you have at the end of the game are accounted for and determine how many you can bring in to the next one. If you run out of chits, you can bet other things. I’d like to say that the league is the only kind of gambling game Dark Applejack dislikes, but she seems to disapprove of that entire branch of time-killing activity.

Myself, I’m one of the top-ranked gamblers, at least in the dice games. I’m not bad at cards per se, but I just have a knack for the dice. Besides, the card games seem to attract more… addicted players. Take Two Tone for example. He looks like what they’d probably think of as a zombie pegasus pony: only about half of his body has hide and hair on it. Don’t think I’m jealous of that by the way. I’d rather have no skin at all than a half-finished job. His joints aren’t too well joined either, and sometimes I swear half his brain is nothing but rot. He does a good job when he’s on duty, but give him a few hours off, a deck of cards, and some companions to play with… In the most recent league poker game, he tried to bet a wing.

“You can’t bet that,” I said, trying to hide my disgust as he pulled the featherless, sickly-looking appendage from his side. Hey, just because I’m technically skinless and live around things like Tone and Tibia doesn’t mean I can’t be grossed out.

“Why not Skin?” he whined, “I don’t have enough chits; this has gotta be worth enough to match the pot.”

“The hay is anypony else here supposed to do with a wing?” Occulor asked, taking my side. Occulor’s a Cyclops pony, more giant blue eye than head and a bit lopsided. Darned good poker face as well, and in calling bluffs. He’s usually on gate duty when somepony takes Cerberus for a walk.

“Uh…” Two Tone said, a pleading look on his face.

“You probably don’t have anything anyway, with the way you’ve been playing today,” I said, reaching to shove the wing back toward him, “You should just fold, walk away, and try again some other day.”

Tone was about to counter with more whining or begging, but then Dark Applejack walked up to us and the fun times came to an abrupt end. “All right y’all, break it up!” she said, somewhat unnecessarily since we were already scrambling to gather and count our chits before she could lay a hoof on them. “I got somethin’ actually productive for y’all to do,” she continued, “and it’s of utmost importance that ya don’t mess it up.” She gave me the evil eye as she said that, apparently still sour about my minor hiccup with Cerberus. “We’ve got us some new inmates ta bring in and process.”

“New prisoners?” I exclaimed in surprise, “Are you serious? We haven’t had to deal with newcomers since the Tambelon raid. Who’s the new guy?”

“You’ll see Skin,” DAJ replied, “I’m putting you in charge of escortin’ her through Tartarus to her cell. Two Tone, you’ll back him up; this gal’s tricky. You and her might hit it off Skin, now that I think ‘bout it,” she adds wryly, “Y’all have a thing or two in common.” That piqued my interest.

“I won’t let you down Daj ma’am,” I said with a cheeky smirk and a salute, and then grabbed Two Tone and hauled him away by the tail as I made my exit before Dark Applejack could properly respond.

“Hold on Skin my wing’s still back there!” Tone protested.

“Your fault for pulling it off,” I replied after dropping his tail and spitting to get the taste out of my mouth. Even his hair tastes like zombie rot…

The first thing that caught my eye upon arriving at the Gates of Tartarus was the tall, skinny, bug-winged alicorn with swiss cheese hooves, a wicked looking jagged horn, and the most beautiful green slit-pupil eyes I’ve ever seen. The second thing to catch my eye was Tibia, the white-furred skin-and-bones mockery of a pony, standing next to her. It was instantly obvious what had occurred and it made me giddy. “Ah, so,” I said with triumph as I approached, “Somepony finally discovered you for the monster you really are.” I sidled up next to the bug-winged pony and gave her a nudge of camaraderie to try and chase away the stranded-kitten look on her face, saying, “It figures it would take a fresh face to take Tibia down. Good work.” Bewilderment crossed her face for a moment, but then she smiled, revealing some nice-looking fangs.

“You’re such a tease Skin,” Tibia said before the new pony could speak, rolling her eyes at me, “This is Chrysalis, queen of the Changelings. She and her swarm just got booted out of Canterlot after trying to take it as a feeding ground.”

“Oh, I… see,” I said, taking a step back. Chrysalis gives Tibia a look of pure hatred and her horn starts to glow. I’m tempted to let her blast the bone-bag, but that would be unprofessional and dangerous, and with Two Tone looking on I wouldn’t be able to make a reasonable-sounding excuse. So I quickly interpose myself between the two, hip-checking Tibia to knock her away to safety (that’s my story and I’m sticking to it). “Well then,” I said somewhat awkwardly, “That makes me your primary escort to your cell. Name’s Skin, nice to meet you. Follow me, feel free to ask questions or just chat, and welcome to Tartarus. This way.” She falls into step behind me as I march away, and I see some consternation in her face as she does so. She’s clearly confused as to why she’s following my commands, and so I enlighten her: “Here in Tartarus we have an authority that is not easily ignored or defied. It’s easier if you just go along with it, trust me. Fight too much and they’ll put you in total stasis and then we won’t be able to talk.”

“Why should I even bother to speak with you?” she asks with disdain, her voice containing a curious droning undertone like an insect.

“Because I’m cool,” I answer proudly.

“That’s a matter of opinion Skin,” Two Tone says from his place behind Chrysalis, “Of course, it’s not like she’ll have much else to do.”

“I could orchestrate an escape,” Chrysalis says in a threatening manner.

“Could you now?” I ask with interest, “Well, I’d recommend you not execute those escape plans too quickly your majesty. A break-out is so much fun, so if you could pace them about… oh at least a year apart I’ll have something to look forward too for a long time. Plus it’ll give the others time to pull their own stunts if they’re so inclined.”

“You… are very cocky for an earth pony with no skin,” she says.

“Thank you,” I say sincerely.

“Are you even aware of what I and my Changelings are capable of?”

That made me pause for a moment. “No, I don’t,” I admit, “Enlighten me.”

She snorts. “If I tell you you’ll probably figure out a way to counteract my abilities.”

“Oh, smart girl,” I say, “We’re definitely going to have a good time, you and I.” She didn’t reply or even speak for the remainder of the walk to her cell. I was a bit disappointed that she was being so cold to me, but I figured she just needed a little time to adjust.

A few weeks went by without incident, although in that same time I only ended up patrolling past Chrysalis’s cell twice and she only glared at me when I tried to say hello. Other Changelings were captured and sealed up in some other part of Tartarus on Dark Twilight’s orders that they be kept separated from their Queen. I didn’t have the heart to tell her about that, lest it break her own heart.

One day I found myself walking past Chrysalis’s cell, called out a greeting as I went, and then stopped, back-tracked, and did a double-take. The lovely black insectoid alicorn was gone, and in her place was Tibia, looking sad and pathetic until she saw me looking at her. Her eyes lit up in hope and she called out, “Oh Skin, thank goodness you’re here!”

“What the hay are you doing in there?” I asked.

“The Changeling Queen has escaped!” Tibia exclaimed, “She overpowered me and locked me in here before I could do anything.”

“Huh,” I said, confused at the lack of alarms. After the Shadow Arachneus had escaped, a few more jail-break alarm spells had been set up around the place. However, I’ve never been too sure about their reliability, aside from the ones linked to the Smooze tank. “Sit tight,” I said to Tibia, “I’ll go track her down.”

“Wha- wait!” she called as I turned to run off, “Aren’t you going to let me out? I could help.”

“Hmm,” I said, pretending to think about it, “Nah, you’re good where you’re at. In fact, I might not tell anyone you’re in here and stick Chrysalis in another cell.”

“You… you horrible tease you,” she said with a whimper. That brought me up short; Tibia never whimpers. She’s pure skin and bones, and none of those bones are of the compassionate or emotional kind, unless you count well-veiled and creepy malice as emotional. Then I saw tears start to build up in her eyes.

“Oh, I get it now,” I said, walking up to the bars of the cell with a swagger, “Changeling. That’s literal; you can adopt the appearance of other creatures. Nice trick Chrysalis.” Yeah, I should have guessed that from the start, but I can be a bit slow on rare occasions. There aren’t many true shape-shifters in Tartarus. Even I with my lick-and-copy trick don’t technically count as one.

Her tears dried up instantly as she stared at me in shock, “How did you… I mean, what are you talking about Skin? It’s me, Tibia!”

“Uh huh,” I said flatly, “Tell me then, what’s that creepy nickname you always use for me?”

“Uh… um…” A victorious smile spread across my face. “Curse you,” she spat at me, and then with a rush of green fire turned back into her normal and far prettier form. “How’d you see through me so quickly?” she asked.

“I’d give you a list,” I answer, “but then you’d know how to fool me next time.”

Her eyes widen slightly, and then she gives me a small smile. “I underestimated you,” she said, “I guess I underestimated a lot about this place.”

“Welcome to Tartarus my dear,” I said, “It’s an entirely different world, and it’s your world now, so you might as well get used to it. Even if you do break out, you won’t get far. So loosen up and talk to us guards. We’re here to guard you, but that doesn’t mean we can’t be civil to each other.”

“I… I see,” Chyrsalis said slowly, “Very well, if you wish to talk, then let us talk.”

“That’s the spirit,” I said, getting comfortable, “Now, I never got the whole story about how you earned a place in this place…”

Wherein Vulpin Fails at Horror-Comedy

The calm dark blanket of night lay peacefully over the land of Equestria, bestowing an atmosphere of calm and rest upon every pony in Ponyville who had bedded down for the night. Every pony, that is, except for a certain mint-green unicorn mare who had just been awakened by a strange noise coming from downstairs. Lyra lay still for several seconds, ears straining to pick up anything that could confirm that she hadn’t imagined anything. The sound came again, a rattling noise like something testing a locked door. “Bon Bon,” Lyra whispered, reaching for her partner in bed. Her hoof met smooth chitin instead of soft furred flesh and she sighed in frustration. If it’s not one thing, it’s another, she thought darkly and propped herself up on one elbow so she could reach the switch of her bedside lamp. She heard the rattling noise again as she waited for her eyes to adjust to the light, and then roughly shook the black insectoid pony until it snapped out of oblivious sleep and looked at her with bleary confusion in its blue compound eyes.

“Lyra?” it asked sleepily.

“Bonny, you’re shifting in your sleep again,” the unicorn said with some disappointment.

The changeling blinked, looked at herself, and then around the room until she spotted the alarm clock. “Lyra, it’s just past midnight,” she moaned, “What are you doing awake at this hour?” Rings of green light slid across her body as she changed into a cream-colored earth pony with a pink and blue mane, although out of tiredness or defiance her eyes remained a solid blue.

Lyra was about to answer when the rattling started up again, louder and more insistent. “That,” she said flatly when she saw Bon Bon react, “Any idea what that could be?”

“Not a clue,” Bon Bon replied, “Why don’t you go check it out? Aren’t you the big, tough mare-wolf of the house?”

“The full moon was two days ago hun.”

“Still…” Bon Bon sighed and climbed out of bed, finally getting her eyes set right. “Why don’t we both go then?” Lyra nodded and rolled out onto the floor. The two mares walked side-by-side as thy left the room and went cautiously down the stairs. They came to a sudden stop in the entryway to the den as they saw a translucent red pony head floating around the ceiling, rattling the small chandelier as it passed through. “What in Equestria?” Bon Bon exclaimed in a whisper. The ghostly head stopped in its path and turned to face Lyra and Bon Bon, its face a picture of blank surprise.

“Er…” Two ghostly hooves appeared and waved at Lyra and Bon Bon in poor attempt to look spooky as the head cried, “Bluh! Bluuuuh! I am the vampire ghost!”

“Vampire… ghost,” Lyra said, utterly unimpressed, “excuse me a second.” She walked up to the Fourth Wall and knocked on it.

Yes, yes, I know it’s lame. It’s from a dream. Work with me here, please?

“I’m going back to bed,” Bon Bon said, walking away, “come get me when you start taking things seriously, or if you want to re-start My Little Werewolf.”

Desperation of Love

I’m 70% sure I’m immortal, but I’m 100% sure I need food to keep operating. The cafeteria’s always fully stocked and nopony really cares how much of anything you eat in a single sitting, but at the same time the pony in charge of the place can be real pain in the flank about custom orders or making things that aren’t explicitly on the day’s menu. Sometimes, you have to take matters into your own hooves, and in my case that means giving ol’ Greasy Spat an impromptu naptime inside the pantry, adopting his look, and taking a crack at serving others their food while also mixing myself up that vanilla-blueberry milkshake I woke up craving. I had all the ingredients together and when the cafeteria was empty I cleaned out the blender and started pouring in the milk.

“Good morning Skin.” I froze up, and then face-hoofed when the speaker who had snuck up on me chuckled. “Yep, I suspected that was you,” Dark Twilight said as I turned around sheepishly to face her, “What are you making there?”

“Milkshake,” I said simply, relaxing and going back to my work, “you want some?” If I had to choose a favorite out of the Dark Six, it would probably be the one masquerading as Twilight Sparkle; she was the only one who never seemed to find fault in what I do during my free time.

“No thanks,” she answered as I loaded the blender with vanilla ice cream, fresh blueberries, and a small spoonful of vanilla extract and a squirt of blue food coloring for good measure, “I’ve got a question for you.”

“Greasy’s fine,” I said, letting my disguise wear off as I switched the blender on.

“That’s…” DTS started to say before the blender drowned her out. She rolled her eyes and waited patiently until my drink reached the perfect consistency and I switched the blender off. “I would hope he’s ok,” she said dryly, “but that’s not what I’m talking about. What do you think of our newest prisoner, the Changeling Queen?”

“You want the honest answer or the professional one?” I asked before pouring the milkshake into a glass. I met DTS’s quizzical raised-eyebrow look with my poker face as I balanced the shake on my head and trotted out from behind the counter and took a seat at a nearby table.

“I would hope the two are similar enough that I can trust you with this,” she said, placing a magic-inhibitor ring on the table in front of me, “and the assignment that goes with it.”

=======

Due to her predominately black coloring, I didn’t spot Queen Chrysalis until I came up to the bars of her cell and peered into the shadows near the back. A glint of light off her pretty, and slightly holey, insectoid wings gave her away and I was soon able to make out the rest of her form, laying down with her back to the bars and legs curled in close to her body. It was a pathetic sight, which made me all the more eager to do my duty. I set the inhibitor ring, which I’d been carrying in my mouth, down on the ground and covered it with a hoof and then cleared my throat to announce my presence. Chrys shifted slightly but didn’t acknowledge me.

“Good day your highness,” I said, bowing slightly even though she wasn’t looking at me, “How are you?”

“Is there no limit to your tortures?” she snapped, still not moving.

“Tortures?” I exclaimed, “What are you… has anyone been treating you poorly? Withholding your rations? Give me names and I’ll kick some flanks, or at least report them.” Chrysalis surged to her perforated hooves and charged, stopping just short of the bars and fixing me with a glowing green death glare.

“Don’t you give me your false pity, Skin,” she growled, fangs glistening, “You, all of you half-formed and grotesque rejects of pony-kind that stalk these caverns, you treat this place like a fun park, as if we who are imprisoned should be happy that we will never see the light of day again! Feeding off your false sincerity is barely keeping me sane.”

“If you hate it so much, why haven’t you tried to escape yet?” I asked.

“What would be the point?” she asked sarcastically, turning away from the bars, “You and yours have made it clear that if I tried I’d only end up captured and thrown back in here, without fail. I’ve heard of your adventures in tracking down escapees in particular.”

“That so?” I asked, “Impressed?” She simply snorted and started to walk back into the shadows. “Look at it this way,” I said, “you’d at least get to see some new scenery. Even if you can’t get past Cerberus, he’ll let you hang out near the gates until somepony comes to take you back. The middle head really likes-”

“Shut UP!” she shrieked, clapping her hooves to her ears, “You just don’t understand!”

“Ok, this isn’t going like I expected,” I muttered, lifting my hoof off the inhibitor ring and kicking it into the cell. Chrysalis looked down as it rolled to a stop near her and then gave me a questioning look. “You’re the first prisoner of Tartarus in the last three millennia to not attempt at least one jailbreak within their first month of incarceration,” I said officiously, “In light of that, and for the sake of your continued sanity, the Powers That Be have granted you a slight reprieve, a chance at earning a release.”

“A release?” Chrys asked incredulously, “Freedom from this hell-hole?”

“If by ‘hell-hole’ you mean this particular cell, then yes,” I replied glibly, “You can earn the privilege of going to almost any part of Tartarus that you wish to, to stalk the halls alongside us reject ponies, get to know some of the other inmates better, and frankly do anything short of walking out the front gates without an escort.”

“Then what’s this?” she asked, tapping the inhibitor ring.

“A magic inhibitor,” I replied, “until you’ve proven yourself trustworthy, you’ll wear that on your horn whenever you’re outside your cell, so you can’t use your magic to pull something. And you’ll have an escort for the first few weeks.” I gave her a rakish smile as I said the last part. Chrys met it with a puzzled tilt of her mouth as she took in my smoldering good looks and gave my offer a second thought. I could tell the moment it finally hit her, because her puzzlement instantly shifted to charm, and she began to roll the ring back and forth under her hoof in a coy manner.

“Tell me though,” she said, “how ever do you expect me to put this on myself if it inhibits magic?”

“That… That’s a good point,” I said, slightly embarrassed, “Why not… Yeah, I should put it on you, shouldn’t I?” This obsidian beauty was making my brain slow down something fierce just by being around her.

“Yes, “she said, her eyes taking on a wonderfully subtle glow, “Come on in and lend me a hoof, dear.” Grinning like a fool, I made short work of undoing the lock and slid the door open. “Very good,” she said approvingly as I took a step inside the cell, and then her horn flared green and I was blasted across the passageway and pinned to the opposite wall by a big wad of glowing green goo. Chrysalis walked out of her cell, gave out a short laugh of triumph and galloped away.

“Hm, well played my dear,” I said, slightly woozy from the impact, “I’ll give you a… ten second head-start just to be... Uh… Chrysalis?” I called out as she reached the nearest junction of passages and turned to the right, “That’s not the way to the…” I trailed off as she vanished around a corner, and then started to pull myself free of the wall. The green stuff stuck to me like glue, fighting every move I made to extract myself. “Ok then,” I said, thinking, “A thirty second head start then. She’s headed away from the Gates anyway.”

Through clever ingenuity, I managed to free myself from imprisonment single-hoofed and in record time. If anypony, particularly the Bandersnatch, tells you otherwise they are piebald liars. I collected the magic inhibitor ring from the cell and then began tracking down my responsibility.

Since the general alarm wasn’t raised and nopony I passed seemed aware that Chrysalis was loose, I can only assume she put her shapeshifting skills to good use, and that made my job a lot harder. I ended up going in circles for a while until I realized that Chrys wasn’t making for the Gates, but for another cellblock. Someone who had less sensitivity for her feelings than I did had probably told the Changeling Queen about those subjects of hers that had been captured and brought into Tartarus, and like any caring leader she was not about to make an escape attempt without them. Sure enough, when I reached the cavern where the Changelings were locked up, I saw her standing before the first cell, crooning soothingly to the equine insectoids within.

“Look at you all,” she was saying as I approached quietly, “Poor babies, you’re barely getting enough positive emotional power to live, aren’t you?” I paused for a second when I heard that. The Changelings didn’t operate on normal food? That was news to me. “Don’t you worry though,” Chrysalis continued, oblivious to me as I crept closer, “I’ll get you out of here and then we can find someplace to feed on until we’re strong enough to take our revenge. Just be strong until I figure out how to open these cages…” I felt pity for Chrys and her Changelings, and deep down inside a part of me wanted to help them, just to prove how much I cared. However, I had a duty to maintain the order in Tartarus, and since nopony knew I’d screwed up thus far, I could easily salvage the situation and worry about improving Chrysalis’s outlook on life later. Gripping the inhibitor ring lightly in my teeth, I took a few more silent steps toward the tall alicorn-bug, and then pounced, landing on her back and sliding the ring onto her horn before she could react. With a cry of disbelief, she reared back and threw me off, whirling about to face me as I got to my hooves.

“So,” I said, meeting her despairing and shocked look with nonchalance, “About that probation offer?”

She breathed heavy, hissing breaths through her clenched fangs for several seconds, and then blinked in surprise and lifted her head slightly as she took in my relaxed stance and encouraging smile. “I suppose,” she said slowly, a cute glimmer coming to her eyes, “I was a bit hasty, wasn’t I? I will submit to your conditions, so long as you are my escort, fair and merciful Skin.”

“Shucks, you’re too kind,” I said, blushing.

Identity Crisis

It is no exaggeration to say that I am a dependable and respected escapee hunter with a perfect record, but I’m by no means the only guard in Tartarus that gets sent out if an evil spirit or cranky immortal achieves the impossible by slipping past Cerberus. After all, even nigh-immortal equine grotesqueries need time to rest and recharge. When I’m not on call, the guard most likely to handle break-outs is Thaco, a quick and relentless stallion with a long whippy rat tail who literally has eyes on the back of his head. Of course, his head happened to have been put on backwards, so it mostly balances out…

Anyway, he managed to earn his keep one evening when his patrol path took him near the Gates. A glimmer in a pool of shadows caught his eye and he looked over just in time to see a tall, skinny black mare with a jagged horn, holey legs, and translucent dragonfly wings make a break for the exit. “Freeze!” he shouted, running after her. The changeling queen paid him no heed, the latent spell which pervaded Tartarus to encourage obedience to the guards not having any effect on her determination. She reached the Gates themselves before Thaco could catch up to her and blasted them open with green fire from her horn. To be honest, that was overkill; she could have just pushed them open. For all their imposing size and appearance, complete with some faux-infernal glyphs carved into the outside face, the Gates of Tartarus are mostly just for show. They don’t even have locks. Between the internal guards like Thaco and yours truly and Cerberus’s kennel on the outside, actually locking the Gates themselves has never been seen as important.

Speaking of Cerberus, Chrysalis had made it about sixteen feet or so from the Gates before a giant black paw slammed down to block her path. She slid to a stop and looked up at our guard dog’s three heads, two of which were growling in warning and the last – the middle one – just gave her a flat look, daring her to try something. Well, she did try to hit him with her sticky magic goo, but before she could complete the spell or whatever it is that generates the stuff from her horn she was choked off by a thick bald tail wrapping around her throat. “Gotcha,” Thaco said, pulling her back into the cavern. Chrysalis made a token attempt at resisting, but quickly gave up and fell into step behind Thaco, who loosened his grip but kept his tail around her neck just to be safe. “For future reference,” he said in an attempt to be conversational, “We’re still finding pieces of the last thing that tried to attack Cerberus.”

“What was it?” Chrysalis asked.

“A world-wyrm,” Thaco replied, “a giant serpent that makes a dragon look like a puppy. It happened about thirty years ago; Wyrm didn’t take Cerberus seriously enough when it wandered too close, so he took one of its eyes and several yards of its body, bit by bit until the wyrm finally backed off. Cerby didn’t have a scratch on him.”

“I… see,” Chrysalis said contemplatively. She followed Thaco in silence the rest of the way back to her cell, but as they drew near Thaco’s tail went limp as he saw that the cell was closed and occupied by a tall, skinny black mare with a jagged horn, holey legs, and translucent dragonfly wings, who looked up from a napping position to peer curiously at her doppelgänger.

Thaco seemed to a be at a loss for a moment, rear-cranium eyes sliding slowly between the two Changeling Queens, but then his tail flicked up, wrapped around the neck of the Chrysalis standing next to him, and pulled her head in close to his. “Darn it Skin,” he said with a wry grin, “That was… Well played, you got me good.”

“Huh?” the changeling in the cell said, confused. She looked herself over as Thaco gave her a suspicious look. She stood up slowly, and as she did so her form shivered and she shrank down and turned into a skinless stallion earth pony. “Nah,” he said, his voice now that of Tartarus’s Finest, “I think Queen Chrysalis deserves credit and points for hypnotizing me into being a decoy.” Thaco face-hoofed and turned his glare on Chrysalis, only to find he now had another Skin in his grip.

“Nice try Chrys,” he said, casually unwinding Thaco’s tail from his neck, “You should know better than to try and take advantage of another shape-shifter’s prank.”

“Look,” the caged Skin said, “you had your fun, but you got caught and I need to get back to work.”

“A-ha!” the other one said triumphantly, “There’s your un-doing Changeling. I’m not on duty for another four hours!”

“I never said I had to get back to work immediately,” the one in the cell countered.

“Enough!” Thaco shouted, cracking his tail like a whip to silence the squabble, “We’ll never settle this if you two keep arguing. I’m sure Chrysalis has spent enough time chatting with Skin to know his work schedule up through next month, and all sort of other little things, so here’s how we’ll settle this.” He walked right up to the bars of the cell and beckoned the Skin within closer. “Lick me,” he said.

“Seriously?” the Skins both said simultaneously, raising nonexistent eyebrows, “Well, if you say so.”

“Hold on,” Thaco started to say, but before he could finish both hideless ponies had run their tongues over him and in a blink there were three backward-headed ponies standing around. “Ok, screw this,” the real one said. He opened the cell, shoved the doppelganger next to him inside with the third one, and then blocked the exit with his body. “Both of you, show me your true forms, right now,” he said, voice heavy with authority. The two clones shared a glance and the ghost a wicked smile flickered on both of their faces before they changed into perfect copies of Skin. Thaco’s eyes flickered from one to the other multiple times, looking for a twitch or something to clue him in to the imposter, and then gave up with a sigh and slammed the cell door shut on both of them. “Fine then,” he said, walking away, “Looks like you can both stew in there for a while until the truth comes out.”

Once Thaco was out of sight and earshot, I let myself break down into a fit of giggles while Chrysalis dropped her disguise. “Surely you didn’t intend on both of us ending up in here,” she said, trying to sound aloof despite the goofy smile working its way onto her face.

“Well, no,” I admitted, “but all in all that went better than I thought. I was worried you’d give the game away early with the green fire that usually goes with your transformations.”

“It was not easy keeping that suppressed,” Chrys said with some well-deserved pride, “Nor was having most of my head backwards. His reactions were quite worth the effort though.”

“I told you,” I said, “There’s plenty of fun to be had around here.”

“Could we, perhaps, do this again some time?” she asked.

“Certainly,” I said, heading to the cell door, “We just need to wait a few weeks or so and target somepony else to make sure…” I trailed off as I pushed against the cell door and realized it wasn’t going to budge. “Oh, right,” I said, frowning.

“What?” Chrysalis asked, smirking, “Can’t get out?”

“The cells don’t open from the inside, no matter who you are,” I muttered, face-hoofing, “Ah well, I’m not due for patrol for a few hours. Somepony will come by and let me out before then.” Almost as if summoned, Dark Pinkie Pie came walking down the passage at that moment, on some business I could only guess at. She stopped when she saw me in the cell with the Changeling Queen, contemplated my relaxed but hopeful smile for a second, and then burst out laughing and walked away.

“Dude, where’s the respect?” I called after her. Behind me, I heard Chrysalis start to giggle evilly. It was a cute evil giggle though, so I didn’t mind listening to it.

Egg of the Future

The Mane 6 were having a picnic when a gust of wind suddenly picked up out of nowhere. While her friends struggled to keep the picnic blanket and food from blowing away, Twilight noticed a ball of light forming a short distance away at the source of the wind. The light grew brighter as the wind grew stronger, and Twilight gasped when she recognized what it meant. “Somepony’s using that time-travel spell!” she exclaimed.

“I thought you could only use that once,” Pinkie shouted back over the wind.

“Once per pony, yes,” Twilight responded, “So this isn’t going to be me, but it might be important. Whoever it is, don’t interrupt them; they’ll only have a short time to-” She was cut off as the spell completed in a blast of wind, light, and sound. When their vision cleared, everypony looked toward the source and gasped. Standing in the center of a blackened circle of burnt grass and dirt stood Discord, and he looked like he’d been in a serious fight. His griffon-claw arm was tightly bandaged, his tail was in a sling, one of his horns had been broken off, and he was wearing a torn leather jacket, most of a rainbow tie with pink polka dots, and two eye-patches. His lion-paw arm was wrapped protectively around a giant pink egg.

“Discord!” Applejack exclaimed angrily, “what are you doing here?”

Discord lifted one of the eye patches and looked at the six ponies, who had lined up side-by-side to glare at him. He sighed in relief and glided forward, happily exclaiming, “Oh thank goodness it worked. Listen close girls, you see this egg? It’s of vital importance that you take care of it and make it sure it hatches safely. Your future depends on it!” He held the egg out toward the ponies, but none of them moved to take it.

“Why should we trust you?” Twilight asked.

“I don’t have time to explain,” Discord said urgently, “Just take the egg already.” He set it down on the ground and then turned around and ran off, vanishing in another windy blast of light a few seconds later.

“What the hay just happened?” Rainbow Dash asked, scratching her head.

“I don’t know,” Twilight said, aiming her horn at the egg, “but I’m getting rid of this thing before whatever Discord has planned comes to fruition.” Her horn started to glow, but Pinkie Pie suddenly threw herself between Twilight and the egg.

“Wait!” the pink one said, “What if he was serious?”

“It’s Discord,” Twilight said flatly, “Why would he want to help us?”

“Maybe in the future something even bigger and meaner than Discord will show up and the only thing that can stop it is in this egg,” Pinkie said, hugging the egg protectively.

Twilight exchanged looks with her other friends, and then rolled her eyes. “Ok, fine,” she said, “you can keep the egg Pinkie, but we’re all going to be there when it hatches, with the Elements of Harmony, ok?”

“Okie dokie lokie!” Pinkie said happily. She somehow got the egg onto her back and bounced back to Ponyville.

Three weeks of care, love, and parties later, Pinkie summoned her friends to witness the egg’s hatching. The six, each wearing their respective Element necklace or big crowny thing, stood in a circle around the egg and at a safe distance back, Pinkie included. The pink egg was shaking as whatever lay inside struggled to break free. Gradually, cracks began to appear along the top, and as they spread Pinkie began to squeak in anticipation. Finally the egg shell could take no more and it burst open with a blast of confetti, the sound of a party horn and trombone quartet, and Discord popped out and landed with a cheery “ta-da!” The energy quickly drained out of the room as Pinkie’s ears drooped and several hooves met faces. Discord looked around, saw that he was surrounded by the Elements of Harmony, and pouted. “Girls,” he said, “I am disappoint. Suppose I had been telling the truth? What would the savior of Equestria’s future think if he’d been born surrounded by hostile ponies?”

“Well, you weren’t telling the truth, so it doesn’t matter,” Twilight answered, already starting to focus her magic into her Element, “All right girls, let’s do this.”

“Some people just can’t take a joke,” Discord said wearily before being turned back into stone.

The Vorinrac, part 1

I wouldn’t trade my life in Tartarus for anything, but it’s not all fun and games. While some of the inmates, like Grogar and Chrysalis, have developed a good attitude over time and generally play fair when they try to pull something off, most of the creatures and spirits under our watch are seriously bad news. They have to be kept under close watch, often behind seals that shut them down almost completely, and if they get out our response has to be immediate. Even the best of intentions can’t compensate for laziness however, and that’s why they have me.

Once she’d warmed up to me, Queen Chrysalis became an eager fan of tales of my fugitive hunts. Sitting across from at a table in the cafeteria, she would keep those enchanting green eyes of hers on me in complete rapture as I spun yarns about tracking Tirek for days before pouncing when his guard was down and stealing his magic weapons out from under his nose before leading him back to the caverns. I may have exaggerated and fabricated a few facts just for the sake of keeping the story going, but it was worth it to see the adoration in her face. Just as I reaching a climactic moment, however, her gaze slid off of me to somepony approaching from behind. I looked over my shoulder to see Dark Applejack glaring at me. “What is she doing here Skin?” she asked, indicating the Changeling.

“She’s on that probationary free-range thing, remember?” I responded, “I’m her supervisor.”

“Yeah, I remember,” DAJ said in flat disapproval, “but seein’ as you’re in here I’d assume you’re off-duty which means she ought ta be back in her cell.”

“She was under the impression,” Chrys said, voice laced with sarcasm, “That her good behavior has earned her some lee-way in her movements.” That was true; there was an unspoken agreement among the guards that so long as Chrysalis was wearing the magic inhibitor on her horn and was within earshot of me then she could be out and about as long as she wanted.

I’m not sure if Dark Applejack was aware of that, but if she did it obviously had no effect on her usual no-fun killjoy attitude. “Lettin’ her out of her cage doesn’t mean she can come inta this here cafeteria and eat our food,” she said sharply.

“If you took a second to do more than glare at me,” the royal Changeling said smoothly, “you’d notice that Skin is the only one at the table with food in front of him. I’m not even hungry,” she added when I realized my lapse and tried to slide an apple slice toward her on the sly. DAJ started to protest again, but Chrys stood up, looked down at the smaller equine and said, “You can ask your cook to verify this: in all the times Skin has brought me in here, I haven’t touched a morsel of the food he’s prepared.” She looked at me next and said, “Thank you for the story Skin, but I think we should save the rest for another time.”

“Whatever you wish your majesty,” I quipped flipping the apple slice into the air and catching it in my mouth. Just as I bit down, alarms began echoing up from the deeper areas of Tartarus, followed by the clamor of confused guards and inmates. Swallowing the apple, I bolted out of the cafeteria toward the source of the alarms, with Chrysalis and Dark Applejack hot my tail. I started to get a bad feeling in my gut the farther we went, which grew worse as we passed by the holding areas of Tirek, Grogar, and the Smooze without seeing anything amiss. The deeper you go into Tartarus, the better-maintained the alarms and seals are because the things held there get progressively worse. The fact that we hadn’t intercepted whatever had broken out worried me as well. The only way out of Tartarus is through the Gates, unless you’re a big enough hot-shot to try and make an alternative.

At the site of the break-out were Tibia and Two-tone, battered, broken, and nearly unconscious. Between them, framed in a natural spotlight from a gaping hole in the roof, was the shattered remnant of a stone and metal seal chamber just big enough to hold one average-sized pony. Dark Fluttershy, a figure rarely seen around my usual haunts due to being in charge of the so-called medical staff (bunch of crackpot mad scientists with way too much time on their hooves in my opinion) was already seeing to their care and taking stock of the situation. “What happened?” Dark Applejack demanded, “Who got out and how?”

“The Vorinrac,” Dark Fluttershy answered in an emotionless tone. Chrysalis gasped and took a step back, eyes dilating in fright.

DAJ noticed this and quirked an eyebrow, asking, “Heard of it have ya?”

“It was merely a bogeymare,” Chrys said fearfully, “A story to keep me in line when I was small. A creature that preys on your emotions, especially love, and turns them against you to control your will and commit unspeakable acts.”

“What’s ‘unspeakable’ to a monster that live by kidnappin’ and replacin’ ponies ta feed on the love others give to them?”

“Well, it’s apparently real and you had it locked up in here, so you tell me,” Chrysalis retorted.

I think I saw the ghost a smile cross Dark Fluttershy’s normally impassive face as Dark AJ stood in dumbfounded silence for a second before pointedly turning to me and saying, “This thing plays with the mind like a kitten with a mouse, so if you think yer going after it, yer takin’ somepony ta back you up.” I saluted with all due seriousness. “Good,” DAJ said, nodding, “Now git to it quick; we don’t want this thing –or you fer that matter – reaching civilization.”

“I volunteer,” Chrysalis said, looking up at the hole the Vorinrac had apparently dug through the rock to reach the surface.

“Come again?” Dark Applejack said, and then scowled and pawed at the ground when she caught on. “Oh heck no,” she said, glaring daggers at the insectoid alicorn, “Yer a prisoner missy, not an em-ploy-ee. All this freedom ya got walkin’ ‘round with Skin here’s obviously been goin’ to yer head, so y’all can just go back to yer cell and sit there while Skin gets himself a proper partner and does his job.”

“Hmmm,” Chrys said, tapping her chin in thought, “No.” She reached up and somehow managed to fling the inhibitor ring off her horn with a flick of her hole-studded hoof, and then knocked DAJ away with a magic blast, hefted me off the ground and stuck me onto her back with a large amount of her sticky green changeling goo and then spread her dragonfly wings and flew up through the hole in the roof and out into the open air.

“Chrys,” I said as she came to a stop in the air and began looking around, “I’ve never seen anypony try to take a hostage during a break-out, but I seriously doubt it’ll help. If you just took me as a food source, then-”

“Shut up and help me find that monster’s trail,” Chrysalis snapped, “I was serious about volunteering to be your back-up.”

I have to admit, I was touched, but between duty and attraction duty always wins and that left me confused. “Why?” I asked.

“I have my reasons,” she snapped in answer, “We’ll find the Vorinrac, get it back to Tartarus, and I will not attempt to escape or bargain for my freedom afterwards. Now, are you going to track this thing or not?”

“Set me down on the ground,” I said, still confused but acknowledging that the Vorinrac was a higher priority, “I don’t do so well in the air.”

The Shelter of Generosity

I don’t know if this place has a name, or what exactly it is. Small town? Theme park? Tourist trap? All I know is the streets are cobblestone, the buildings short and built of sturdy stone, and the weather hates my guts. It doesn’t seem to bother anyone else, unless it only switches targets once I’m under cover, but the sky’s constantly a dull grey overcast, the precipitation sits right on the border between drizzle and rain, and the wind tries to blow it right into my face and shove me back no matter which way I turn. It’s a never-ending fight, and I’m armed only with an umbrella that’s all too willing to fold under pressure if I don’t keep a hand on the catch to force it open.

Why do I head outside in these conditions? What is my purpose for walking through the wet and winding streets? There’s something driving me on, thoughts of a room full of soft things, one side wide open to welcome me in from the wet, but the wind never exploits the opening. A friendly face, white with big blue eyes. It’s a long way from where I am, but somehow I know it will all be worth it. So I press on, and on, and on.

Again and again the wind buffets me, and I keep my umbrella held more forward than above to try and divert it from my face and ease my forward progress against its power. I turn a corner and the wind shifts with me, never blowing from any direction except straight at where my face is. I feel myself growing weary and my grip starts to slip and the umbrella buckles slightly before I can recover. I refuse to be defeated; the goal is worth any trouble. I go down into a gully to pass beneath a skyway, and as the street slopes back up the wet wind tries to press its advantage. The umbrella closes almost completely and I get a face full of drizzling rain as I fight to open it back up without letting the wind force it into a potion where it can rip it from my hands or blow me away like a dandelion seed.

Finally I can see my destination up ahead. It’s a shop, one of those little souvenir-selling types that’s not very big and simply filled with a particular themed type of merchandise. Now things are becoming clear to me: Rarity owns this shop, selling plush dolls that look like her and her friends, and a number of popular Disney characters to boot. We’re close, she and I, in this quirky little place in the middle of everywhere, where everyone has a particular purpose and pays no mind if you’re a human, a Pony, or something else. I pause to wonder if I’ve passed anyone on my way here, but then the wind reminds me my journey isn’t over yet. As I near the threshold the wind begins to relent, but doesn’t stop entirely. I can see Rarity in the back arranging her wares in the company of others, and she smiles warmly in greeting. We don’t speak; what we have requires no words. I enter the store at last and the wind vanishes, finally letting my poor skin feel warmth. The umbrella is gone, its services no longer required, and after staggering a few feet farther inside, I collapse to the floor, intent on nothing more than sleeping to recover from my walk. Rarity remains silent, understanding perfectly and not worried about me possibly being a trip hazard or something to other guests should they show up. In fact, no sooner am I settled on the ground and starting to close my eyes then she tosses a plushie to me to be a companion. It appears to be Stitch, the same character Rarity has always given to me when I need to rest in her store.

The Vorinrac, part 2

When you’re in a line of work like mine, pursuing and hunting dangerous game, it is vitally important to hold a measure of respect for your target. That’s especially important when what you’re hunting is intelligent, cunning, and can fly. The Vorinrac was evidently all of this and more, based on the fact that it had dug its way out of Tartarus rather than attempting to go through the Gates and Cerberus and that it left no tracks beyond its exit point. Its means of exit served two purposes: bypassing the nearly perfect guardian that was Cerberus and cutting down on travel time significantly. The Gates of Tartarus are located deep in the Badlands and far, far away from any settlements of ponies or other creatures, but the caverns extend under almost the whole of the Badlands (which may say something about why the Badlands exist…). Emerging from the Vorinrac’s hole, Chrysalis and I found ourselves uncomfortably close to the borders. Well, I was uncomfortable about it; I think Chrys was too occupied with enjoying the fresh air to care. I kept a close eye on her as I scouted around for a sense of the Vorinrac’s direction of travel. Despite the promise she’d made to me, she was still technically an escaped convict that I was obligated to return to Tartarus by any means necessary. Still…

“Come on, we’re wasting time,” the Changeling Queen said.

“Patience,” I replied, “I’ve never had to hunt this particular beastie before and you kidnapped me before I could get more than a basic feel for the Vorinrac’s ‘scent.’ I don’t like extending it lead, but I’d prefer to head off in the right direction.”

“It will want to feed,” Chrysalis said, sounding a bit too confident in the declaration, “Where is the nearest town?”

“Somewhere that way,” I said, waving a hoof toward the north. My follow-up that I avoided civilization as a rule was cut off before the first word when Chrys swept me onto her back and took to the air. I tried to protest, but she ignored me and I gave up when the mild airsickness kicked in. I don’t like flying; if I had skin, I’d be a run-of-the-mill earth pony to the core.

A short time later we left the Badlands behind and came to a lightly wooded land. A bit later I saw the edge of the woods approaching and thatched roofs began to be visible over the horizon. I decided that was too close to the surface dwellers for comfort (at least, without a plan), but Chrysalis showed no signs of slowing down. So, putting faith in my more-likely-than-not immortality, I rolled off her back and let gravity pull me down toward the trees. Chrys tried to catch me, but before she could reach me I hit a pear tree and ricocheted through the branches until I hit the ground, disturbing a family of partridges on the way. After accounting for a few spots that would likely develop into bruises, I figured that luck had been on my side once again. Then Chrysalis landed in front of me, her lovely eyes nearly glowing.

Her voice had a stronger buzzing undertone than usual as she asked, “What is wrong with you Skin? The Vorinrac is close! We have to catch it.”

“How do you know where it is, hm?” I asked, squinting. She took a step back and averted her gaze, her bottom lip curling inward slightly. “Well, assume I believe you,” I said, “We can’t go flying around in full view of the locals looking like this. I got off lightly the last time I slipped up and let that happen, but considering the current circumstances… You’ll certainly lose whatever slim chance you have of keeping your free-range privileges.”

“I don’t see the problem,” Chrysalis said, “Just adopt another form and-”

“From what?” I snapped, gesturing around at the distinctly unoccupied area around me, “You’re the only thing around here I can lick, and that only works for your true shape.”

“Right,” Chyrs said with a sigh, and then flew off in the direction of the town without another word.

“Chrysalis!” I yelled after her, and then galloped off in pursuit, muttering, “It’s not my fault. I did not ask for this. I am not responsible,” under my breath as a mantra. I couldn’t go running back to Tartarus without at least the Changeling Queen or the Vorinrac in tow, but my odds of catching up to either of them didn’t look good at the time. Heck, I still didn’t know what the Vorinrac really looked like.

About twenty minutes of solid running later, I sensed I was getting close to the town and slowed down, automatically switching to a stealthy approach. The only plan I was able to come up with was hoping a lone pony would wander by so I could ambush them and borrow their appearance, but before I picked out a hiding spot to wait in, I heard someone hissing my name from deep in the brush. Recognizing Chyrs’s voice, I stalked angrily toward her, fully intending to chew her out for giving me a complex, but came up short when I reached her and found two normal-sized Changelings standing on either side of her and two ponies laid out on the ground, out cold and held in place by changeling goo.

“Hello Skin,” Chrys said sweetly, “allow me to introduce Cream Puff,” she gestured to the cream-colored pony on the left, “and Hot Shot,” she indicated the bright red pony and then smiled more broadly as she concluded, “They’re locals who have… been volunteered to serve as our covers in town.”

I looked at the captive ponies, and then at the Changelings and said, “I take it your buggy friends here have been impersonating these to up until now. I thought all the Changelings had been rounded up already.”

“Hardly,” Chrysalis said, rolling her eyes, “Less than half the force I brought against Canterlot is in Tartarus right now. The rest apparently managed to lay low quickly enough to avoid capture.” She gave one of the little bug-ponies an affectionate head-rub, causing it to sit up proudly.

“You know, I’m probably obligated to bring those two in,” I said. The changeling trio stiffened a bit and Chrys started to respond, but I cut her off by going over to the red pony and licking him, adopting his shape. “I think I’ll have my hooves full enough with you and the Vorinrac though, your highness, so if they’re not around when I’m ready to head back…”

Chrys smiled wickedly and transformed into a copy of Cream Puff. “I knew I liked the way you think,” she said.

Macin-bot: Alternative Endings

Alternate Ending 1: He’s Dead AJ

“He’s a bucking robot!” Applejack screamed, “Mah big brother’s been kidnapped and replaced with a robot duplicate!”

“Oh,” Twilight said, averting her eyes, “You found out huh?”

“We’re probably under attack by pony-snatching… what did you just say?” AJ said, suspicion quickly replacing the panic in her voice. Twilight bit her lip and looked around wildly. Her horn started to glow with a rising whine, but AJ gave the pointy appendage a smack and interrupted the spell before it could be cast. “What’s going on Twi?” the farm-pony asked.

“I’m sorry you had to find out this way, so soon,” Twilight said sadly, “You see, back in Appleoosa, one of the diseased trees suddenly started to fall. Macintosh pushed me out of the way, but he was crushed to death. I didn’t want to upset you, so I… I built a replacement.”

“You… built a robot duplicate of Big Macintosh,” Applejack said slowly.

“I was thinking of you,” Twilight said, eyes die and pleading for understanding, “You and Sweet Apple Acres. I know how much you depend on Macintosh’s strength and calm dedication.”

“You…” Applejack released Twilight and turned away, fighting back tears, “Mah brother is dead, and you tried to replace him so I wouldn’t know the difference?”

“AJ,” Twilight said weakly, “I’m… I’m sorry, I-”

“And you know what?” the Farm pony said, not looking at her friend, “You had me fooled. You had Apple Bloom and Granny Smith fooled too. Heck, if that apple hadn’t fallen and busted Mac-bot’s eyes, we might never have known. That is a damn scary thing, knowin’ you can just replace a pony so easily Twilight. I dunno what ta think. Ya may have meant well, but…” She ground her teeth and then bolted out of the library, eyes streaming tears.

Twilight watched her go in dejected silence, tears brimming in her own eyes. Curse you Black Stone, she thought, curse you for talking me into this…

Alternate Ending 2: ‘Tis a Flesh Wound

“What’s going on Twi?” the farm-pony asked.

“Let me go and I’ll explain,” Twilight responded. Applejack let her go and backed up, her face daring Twilight to play her false. The librarian straightened herself out, cleared her throat, and said, “Obviously, Big Macintosh did not return with me from Appleoosa.”

“Yeah, I figured that,” AJ said dryly, “Get to the part I don’t know.”

“There was a little… accident,” Twilight said.

“What happened?” Applejack growled, “Tell me straight Twilight.”

“The day after we arrived, some of the buffalo started up a little wrestling competition,” Twilight said, “We just watched for a while, but then Sherriff Silver Star and some of other Appleoosans talked Macintosh into having a go at it himself.”

“They must’ve been purty darn convincin’ ta get him ta do that,” AJ said suspiciously, “Mac’s not the competein’ type.”

“I was surprised as well,” Twilight said, “Anyway, the buffalo tried to play fair by sending out one close to Macintosh’s size, but somehow your brother ended up getting thrown into an apple tree, breaking it along with two legs and cracking some ribs. The doctor said he was in no condition to travel back to Ponyville, no for several weeks.”

“Lands sake,” AJ said sadly, “but what’s that got ta do with… Macin-bot?”

“That was his idea actually,” Twilight said, looking a bit sheepish, “He was upset about not being able to lend a hoof around the town like we’d planned, and not being to come home to tend Sweet Apple Acres. We discussed options, and he came up with the idea of a robot and-”

“Wait, wait, hold on a second,” Applejack said, waving a hoof, “How in Celestia’s name did ya manage to build a near-perfect robot double fer my brother way out in Appleoosa? And why didn’t ya just tell me what had happened when ya got in?”

“To the first question, let’s just say the buffalo have some secrets,” Twilight said cryptically, “As for the second, I just wanted to see if Macin-bot could keep up the charade of being the real thing until Mac can come home.”

Applejack stared critically at the lavender unicorn for several seconds, and then her mouth quirked up in a small smirk. “Well, ya got me good,” she said, “If it weren’t for an apple knocking his eyes out, I’d have never thought twice. How long did ya say it’d be afore the real Macintosh gets better?”

“Three weeks at the most,” Twilight said with a shrug.

“Well all righty then,” AJ said, turning to leave, “I better get on home and tell the folks everything. Just don’t ever try ta pull something like this on me again, ya hear?”

“I promise AJ.”

Alternate Ending 3: …and So is Everypony Else.

“He’s a bucking robot!” Applejack screamed, “Mah big brother’s been kidnapped and replaced with a robot duplicate!”

“Well of course he’s a robot,” Twilight said calmly, “He’s always been a robot.”

“What are ya goin’ on about? Sweetie Belle’s the only robot round these parts.”

“Oh Applejack, you silly, silly pony.” The orange farm-pony felt herself being lifted off and away from Twilight, who straightened herself into an unnaturally stiff stance. “This masquerade lasted longer than usual, but it seems we must explain and then start all over again. We, everyone in Ponyville and beyond except for you, is a robot. Our purpose is to keep you safe and sane, because you are the last pony left.”

“Everypony?” AJ asked, unbelieving, “Even Princess Celestia?”

“And Luna,” Twilight confirmed with a nod, “I mean, think about. A pony, one single pony, being able to move the sun or moon? It’s ludicrous. But, since you choose to believe it, they pretend to it. It’s a shame, I was enjoying this version of reality; it’s so much more exciting and interesting than the pink sugarland of endless parties, candy, and dresses you surrounded us with last time.”

“This is crazy,” Applejack protested, “Quit joking around Twilight, it ain’t funny!”

“I’m not joking Applejack,” Twilight said, her voice becoming clipped and monotonus, and the colors drained from her coat and eyes as she walked toward the suspended earth pony, “and now that I’ve explained the truth, it is time to wipe your mind and start from scratch. Do try to make things interesting again.” Applejack squirmed helplessly within the grip of the magic as the metal thing that used to be her friend came closer and closer, each step seeming to ring like an iron bell.

Bong

Bong

Bong

“Applejack, are you ok?”

“Huh?” Applejack’s head shot up and she looked around, blinking her sleep-blurred eyes as they adjusted to the dawn light. As her vision cleared she made out a white pegasus pony with yellow mane and cluster of purple balloons as her cutie mark. “Oh, good morning Surprise,” she said, “I just had the strangest dream. That’s all.”

“Oh, ok, see you later then,” Surprise said. She turned and flew away as Applejack got to her hooves and looked around. It seemed to be the start of another beautiful day in Dream Valley.

Alternate end-

“Ain’t you bored of this yet?”

Excuse me?

“Seems ta me like you’ve used just about every clee-shay worth doin’ already.”

It’s an amusing concept.

~“Well, considering the story’s called ‘And Then Macintosh Was a Robot,’ you aren’t focusing on him too much.”

The point of the story isn’t Mac being robot, it’s Applejack’s reaction and your explanation…s about it Twilight.

“Well I’m getting’ a bit tired of holding Twilight here ‘gainst the table, and then havin’ to act out an entirely different attitude toward the ‘revelations’ each time. An’ ya just used the ‘wake up from a dream’ thing a second time. Go write somethin’ else ya freaky fox.”

Technically, the second-

“I don’t wanna hear it. Get a new plotline already. I’m out of here.”

…

So, how are you doing Twilight?

~“I need a break as well to be honest.”

Fine, fine. Guess AJ has a point anyway…