Raindrops Keep Fallin' On My Head
NotARealPonydotcom presents
Gazebo
Starring a quiet changeling and a friendly unicorn
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I have always hated when it rains.
I hold no grudge against rain itself, I should clarify. The feeling of cool droplets bursting against my carapace is one that I actually enjoy very much, and the explosion of colorful plant life every rainstorm leaves behind is a marvel to behold. No, isn't the rain that I hate. It's the memories that come with it.
All my life, for as long as I can remember, rain has punctuated the worst days of my life. I left my family to join our Queen's Royal Military Forces at a relatively young age, and stepped out of my childhood home for the last time to find myself in the middle of a pounding deluge. I lost my left wing in a battle against dragons, had it torn from my back and flung into the foggy grayness of the downpour that surrounded both of our armies. I was flung far away, along with the rest of my hive and our Queen, after our failed invasion of the Equestrian city of Canterlot; I awoke to the pitter-patter of raindrops soaking my fallen comrades and me. It rained the day I learned I was to be relocated to the town of Ponyville as part of our Queen's new treaty with the princesses of Equestria, that I had to leave behind all that I had built for myself since leaving her army. Any time my life took a turn for the worse, the rain would be there to imprint that day in my memory forever.
So, understandably, when it began to pour one morning as I was delivering papers, I tried to finish my work as quickly as possible. Unfortunately, along with the rain came a dense gray fog, one that left me mostly blind to my surroundings and forced me to find a shelter to huddle under even more quickly. This shelter ended up being a large wooden gazebo, one that I'd passed by on a few occasions but had never actually entered. It was partially open to the environment, so the rain ran down its sides and dripped onto its wooden floor on occasion, but it was well-built and well-tended to, so it did a fine enough job of keeping me dry.
I'd just removed my saddlebags, and was wondering how I was going to finish the deliveries of the day while dealing with the storm, when I heard the sound of galloping hooves coming from beyond the gazebo. Looking in the direction of the noise, I spotted a moving technicolor blob coming out of the gray towards me. The closer it came, the more of it I could make out, and soon enough a young unicorn mare trotted up the small set of steps and under the gazebo's roof, sheltering herself and a large baking tin covered in foil that she held in her telekinetic grasp. She paid me no mind as she passed me, devoting the whole of her attention to the tin. She set it down with great care and peeked under its foil cover, muttering jumbled prayers under her breath. She stared at the tin's contents for a long moment before sighing with relief and replacing the foil.
"Thank the goddess," I heard her whisper as she shook some of the water from her mane. It was at that moment that she seemed to notice she was not alone under the gazebo roof, and she turned to look at me. When she saw the confused expression on my face, she smiled and said, "They're pies. There's a bakery here, the Sugarcube Corner, that has a job opening, and the managers there want a sample of my own unique baked goods to see if I'm good enough to work there." She gestured to the rain. "If I'd known this was going to happen, though, I would have shown up earlier. Now I'm gonna be late for my appointment there." She frowned. "I hope they understand."
With a sigh, the mare trotted over to where I sat, stood up on her hind legs, and rested her head and forelegs against the balcony of the gazebo, looking out into the storm with a dreamy look in her eyes. When she spoke again, it seemed almost as though it was to somepony else.
"I love it when it rains in the summer. It's always so warm and relaxing. Plus, the food that grows after the storm is always super delicious and ripe." She leaned forward a little and let more of the rain splash onto her face. Smiling, she turned to me and asked, "Don't you agree?"
I shrugged. I didn't eat plants like they did.
"Oh, I'm sorry!" She blushed and moved away from the balcony. Holding a hoof out for me to shake, she said, "My name is Key Lime. You can call me Key, though. All my friends do."
I took the offered hoof and shook it, studying her as I did so. She was stunning to look at, I had to admit: her form was full and healthy, not thin but certainly not pudgy, either, with curves that stood out more than those on most of the mares I'd met since moving to Ponyville. Her coat was the same shade of green as her name implied, and her fur felt softer than pegasus feathers as it rubbed against my hoof. Her mane and tail were just a few shades darker than her coat, and though she'd only stepped out of the rain a minute ago, I could see them reforming into the waterfall of curls that had to be her hair's natural shape. Her eyes were the color of rubies and shone just as radiantly. Her smile was lopsided, but it boasted an abundant joyful spirit I could feel buzzing just beneath the surface of her skin. Everything about her, in fact, from her light, bubbly voice to the bounce in her step I'd noticed when she'd first trotted over to me, hummed with an energy that she seemed completely in control of. As she wrung my hoof up and down with hers in a strong, vigorous motion, I began to feel overwhelmed.
She eventually let go of my hoof and settled back down onto all fours, and for a moment we just stared at each other. The blush returned to her cheeks, and her eyes flickered to her hooves. She pawed at the ground nervously.
"Aaaaand you are?" she finally asked. I realized at that moment that I hadn't said a word to her this entire time.
"Sorry," I said. "My name is Clip."
"Is that short for anything?"
I looked away, suddenly uncomfortable. "No. It's just Clip."
"Alright then, 'Just Clip.' Nice to meet you." She sat back on her haunches and rested her back against the balcony. Her eyes drifted to the ceiling for a while, then to my saddlebags. "In the news business, Clip?"
"Not really," I answered. "I just deliver papers."
"Hoping to work your way up the job ladder, huh?"
"No."
She squinted at me. "'No?'"
"No," I repeated.
"You're not interested in journalism at all?"
"Not particularly, no."
"No plans to own your own newspaper?"
"No."
"To write a sports page?"
"No."
"What about a romantic advice column?"
My face went red at this, and I stared straight ahead, boring holes into the opposite end of the gazebo. From the corner of my eye, I could see the green mare grin. She giggled and punched my shoulder lightly.
"Hey, I'm just joking. I didn't mean to embarrass you."
"Th-That's alright," I stammered, though I still felt flustered (and just a little paranoid) by her question. I stared out at the ongoing storm beyond the shelter, wondering how long it would last and how much more my new companion would pry into my personal life. It seemed as though she'd given up on that endeavor, though, because she stopped talking and chose to join me in staring out at the rain. We sat together, in silence, and I was just beginning to put my fears of being interrogated further to rest when one of the worst things that could ever happen to a creature of my species happened: my stomach growled. Loudly.
I was hungry.
I prayed that Key Lime hadn't heard my noisy gut, but the sound of poorly-stifled laughter next to me told me my prayers were in vain. I did my best to ignore both her and the aching in my stomach, but found that the former was rather difficult to disregard. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see her leaning forward into her hoof, doing her best to cover her mouth and hide her snickering. Eventually, she moved it away, lighting her horn with a bright turquoise glow. The tin full of pies sitting beside her began to glow as well, and it floated over to us. The glow intensified around a corner of the foil covering it, then folded it back to reveal the baked goods hidden underneath.
"Would you like a slice?" she asked, grinning that bright, lopsided grin of hers. "I have more than enough to show off with for the Sugarcube Corner demonstration."
I shook my head and said, "I'm not a big fan of sweets," all the while resisting the urge to flee the scene as fast as I could.
"Oh," she said, moving the tin away from me. "I'll try not to take offense to that comment." She giggled again, and with a pulse from her horn sliced and removed a piece of pie from within the tin. She took a bite out of it and spoke again, through her mouthful: "So you're a changeling, right?"
My reaction to this question, thank the gods, was not nearly as violent as I thought it would be. I did, however, suffer the feeling of my body growing ten degrees cooler, the sensation of a chilling sizzle running down my spine, and the painful awareness of a frozen look of horror on my face. I looked at her, and she looked back, chewing her treat with a nonchalance that made absolutely no sense to me.
"I'll take that as a 'Yes,'" she said, and took another bite. Small splotches of whipped cream dotted her lips. My stomach growled again.
"I—I'm not—"
"Hey, it's okay! I'm not judging you! It's perfectly okay to be a changeling!"
"But... how could you know I'm a changeling?"
Key Lime smiled. "Well, first, your name is Clip. That's not a very 'pony' name."
I frowned. "That's not really much evidence."
"Not on its own, no. But, when you start talking about how you have absolutely no interest in the newspaper business whatsoever, even though your cutie mark is a newspaper with a magnifying glass over it, the name 'Clip' starts to make a little more sense."
My eyes flickered to my own flanks, and I mentally winced; I'd forgotten what I looked like in this disguise. Definitely a dead giveaway, to not know what your own cutie mark was.
Key Lime continued, "You also didn't want to eat any of my pie, despite the fact that you're obviously hungry."
"I told you, I don't like sweets."
"With all due respect, Mr. Clip, my pies are the best pastries on the Eastern coast of Equestria. You'd have to feed off of emotion to not want a taste of them." She smirked, and took another bite. "Put all those little tidbits together, and add the fact that the Princesses of Equestria have just begun an integration program that plants small groups of changelings in towns all over Equestria, and it becomes pretty obvious what you are." She finished the slice, and materialized a napkin with her magic to wipe her mouth.
I wanted to say she was wrong, to deny everything she'd just told me, but I knew that it would be useless to do so. I settled instead for just staring out at the rain again, and for saying, "You're very observant, Ms. Lime."
"Thanks. I read a lot of Sherclop Holmes when I was a filly. And please, call me Key." The napkin vanished from her lips, and she looked at me. "So, are you gonna drop that disguise, or what?"
I hesitated before replying, "I'd prefer to keep it on."
"Why's that?"
"I don't want to disturb you."
She snorted. "Oh, please! I'm not a baby, Clip. I can handle looking at a changeling. Now drop it."
I stared at her, this strange mare who actually wanted to see me without a disguise on, and considered briefly the prospect of running out into the rain and trying to find my way back home. Glancing at the fog that was still blanketing the world beyond the gazebo, however, chased the thought from my head. With a sigh, I leaned back against the balcony and let my cloak dissipate. I watched her reaction, and felt strangely disappointed when she merely nodded and recovered the pie tin.
"There," she said. "I bet that feels much better."
"Not really. I feel vulnerable now."
Key laughed. "Oh? Are you scared of a pudgy little unicorn like me?"
I felt a squirming sensation in my stomach, and shifted in my seat in an attempt to get rid of it. I mumbled, "I don't think you're pudgy," and immediately felt foolish for doing so.
She gave me another lopsided smile, and I swore I could see the slightest hint of red in her cheeks. "Well, aren't you a gentlecolt!" A curious expression appeared on her face, and she rubbed a hoof under her chin. "Or is it 'gentlechangeling' for you?"
Much to my own surprise, I smiled back at her. "'Gentlecolt' is fine," I answered. "But, you're really not frightened by me?"
She groaned. "Oh, for the love of Celestia..." Sitting back up on her haunches, she scooted over to me and, without warning, grabbed my head with her hooves and pulled my face close to her, saying, "Let's just take a closer look, then!" with an almost frightening determination. She examined me then, twisting me this way and that, and commented on every bodily feature she could see.
"Your eyes are pretty cool," she said, filling my vision with her enormous, ruby-like irises. "They're almost the same shade of blue as the sky. It's weird that they sort of fade to white in the middle, but I guess that's better than having it all be blue and not being able to tell whether or not you're looking at me."
She twisted my head to the side. "Your skin is super smooth, which I consider a huge plus, even if it's super weird that you don't have any fur. Your ears are weird, too, but they aren't really 'frightening.' Neither is your horn; it's just weird that it's curved." She turned my head back and stretched out my jaw. "The only really intimidating thing about your face are the fangs, but you don't really use them to eat ponies, do you?"
I shook my head, wondering where she'd ever heard of something as crazy as changelings eating ponies (it's common knowledge that we feed off of love, so why would we ever need to eat flesh?), and she moved on, letting go of my head and looking down at the rest of my body. "That weird shield thing on your back—"
"My carapace."
"—yeah, your carapace, that looks cool, too. It's pretty shiny, and like I said, it looks like a big shield. Your mane isn't really a problem, seeing how you hardly have one, and your tail is long enough to cover your flank, which I guess is a plus." She leaned back and picked up one of my legs, staring at the holes intently. Looking up at me, she asked, "How do these things even work?"
"The holes? Well, our veins work around them, so they don't really cause any trouble—"
"No, I mean, what are they for?"
I looked down at my hooves, staring through them at the floor. "I... I don't really know."
"So why do you have them?"
I smirked as memories of history lessons from years before resurfaced. "Well, the story behind them is something of a legend in our culture."
Key's eyebrows rose. "Really? Do tell."
I leaned back into the wall behind me as the memories grew clearer in my head. "The story, as I've heard it, goes something like this: the first changeling queen wasn't actually a changeling, but an alicorn, much like your Princesses here in Equestria. She was part of the great alicorn clan that traveled the world in the times before even Discord existed, the daughter of the clan's leader, whom you ponies know as Faust. One day, the daughter incurred the wrath of her mother, and as punishment for her crimes, she made her a 'hollow pony.' She became like an insect, and holes grew in her body as a permanent reminder of her misdoings. She was banished, and she roamed the planet in a sorrowful rage of her own, until she found the place that would become our kingdom. There, she began the first of many hives that would soon spread far and wide, and the changeling species as you know it today was born."
"Wow," Key said. "What did the daughter do to make Faust so angry?"
"That fact, unfortunately, has been forgotten over time. Now the legend only tells us that she made her mother angry one day, and that's why we are cursed with these holes in our hooves." I shook my forelegs in front of her face. "Maybe that's why our kind has been so averse to being around the Equestrian races, because we blame them for our appearances."
"Well, if it were me, I'd probably hold a grudge too, after all your kind's been through." She looked back at my carapace. "Can I see your wings?"
I tensed without meaning to. She noticed this, and said, "Is something wro—"
"No!" I interrupted, trying to convince not only Key Lime but myself that I could show her. "I'm fine!"
She recoiled, shocked by my sudden yelling. "Are you sure?" she asked.
"Yes! I mean"—I shook my head to calm myself—"yes, I'll show you them. I just—I'll just—"
I couldn't think of what to say next, so I settled on simply unfolding my wings right then and there. Or rather, I settled on unfolding my wing.
"Oh," Key said when she saw it. "I see."
I stared through the holes in my hooves again, feeling ashamed of myself for some reason. I didn't know what it was that made it so hard to show her my scar; I'd done it plenty of times before, in front of family and friends alike. There was something about this mare that made me feel very open about myself, a trait that I've never really shown before in my life, yet at the same time I was afraid that I might scare her away with my strangeness and disfigurements. I didn't know why I cared so much about what this particular mare thought; for some reason, I felt it had something to do with the way she smiled—
"Clip?"
I slipped out of my thoughts and looked up at Key Lime. She was giving me a pitying look, and I turned my head away from her. I hated to see anychangeling give me that look; it made me feel like I was lesser than them, like I was somechangeling who needed to be taken care of. What baffled me was the fact that it hurt even more to see her give me that look, even though I hadn't known her for more than an hour.
I felt a hoof brush the spot just above my missing wing, and turned to see Key still giving me that look.
"Are you okay?" she asked.
I felt tempted to swat her hoof away and tell her to stop looking at me, but I found that I couldn't, or wouldn't, anyway. I merely turned and looked at the floor again, mumbling, "I'm very insecure about my wing. I don't like showing it to others."
"I understand," she replied. "I have a little brother who was born missing a leg. He always tries to do everything by himself; if anypony does anything for him, he feels like he's being babied." She moved her hoof off of my carapace, and smiled. "You two would get along, I think."
"Maybe," I said, folding my wing and stump back up. "Does your brother like bugs?"
Her smile grew. "Oh yeah. He loves 'em." She giggled. "My parents are starting to think he might earn a cockroach for a cutie mark someday." Her laughter quieted down, and she noticed I was still looking at the floor. She inched closer to me, and asked, "You really do think all ponies hate you, don't you?"
It was a question I felt should have been coming from a therapist and not a baker-in-training, but I still answered her: "I believe that they're frightened of my kind, yes."
"That's not true, though. I'm proof of that."
I sat up and turned to her. She was close enough that I could smell the remnants of the pie she'd had. It was key lime pie. Of course it was.
"There are always exceptions that prove the rule," I muttered, trying not to look her in the eye.
"Since when are we talking about a rule? It's not mandated that ponies have to hate changelings for being changelings."
"After the Invasion of Canterlot, I'm certain most ponies would be unwilling to accept our species as a part of their lives."
"Then how could a treaty be signed and an integration program be executed? The princesses wouldn't do something like that if they didn't believe the changelings were trustworthy enough to live amongst their subjects in Equestria."
"Just because your monarchs believe something, doesn't mean the rest of the population will follow them."
"Not all of them, sure, but I'd bet you all the bits I own that a good percent of ponies in this country have faith in the princesses enough to give changelings a chance to make peace with them." She smiled. "I know I do."
I sighed. Despite my doubts, Key had made a decent point; it made no sense for the princesses to do something that would turn their own people against them, and it certainly seemed like they understood that we meant them no harm. Absently, I said, "Your kind are so strange to me. You must feel the same way when you look at us."
Key leaned into the wall, pressing her cheek against it and giving me a tired sigh. "Kind of. It's a little weird to think of a species that feeds off of emotions instead of food." She frowned. "Hang on, how are we 'strange?'"
"Well, for one thing, when my group first came to this town, one of its residents prepared a town-wide celebration, simply because we'd arrived here safely!"
"That's not strange, that's being hospitable!" she said, sitting back up. "You told me you thought ponies were afraid of you!"
"With the way they ran around and screamed that night, it seemed like they were afraid of their own shadows!"
Key's back arched, and she bent over as peals of laughter shook her body. This left me incredibly confused, as well as slightly embarrassed. I watched her laugh, trying to comprehend what it was about what I'd told her that made her so amused. When she finally stopped, I asked her what had sent her into her hysterics.
"Oh, you're just so odd, I couldn't help myself," she responded. "I've never met anypony who doesn't know what a party is!"
"I know what a party is! I've had parties before! What went on that first night here wasn't a party, not like the ones I've been to! That was a nightmare!"
She began to giggle again, and suddenly I felt myself smiling. Then I felt another pang of hunger hit me, and the smile became a wince as I hugged my stomach. Fortunately, Key failed to notice this, and I straightened myself up before she could see me. I'd been hungry before; I could last a few hours more without a meal.
"Okay," she said when her giggles had ceased, "so you obviously have different kinds of parties over in your kingdom. Can you tell me about them?"
I rested against the wall once more, searching for a story to tell her. When one came to mind, I smiled, and said, "Certainly."
She pulled another slice of pie from her tin, settled down next to me, and gestured for me to start.
"Alright then. In my home village, we always celebrated whenever one of the villagers received an honorary award from the Queen..."
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"...and I swear, when the doorcolt looked inside, his face turned completely white, and he ran out the door screaming like a little filly!"
I snickered, covering my mouth with a hoof. Key, whom I found had a much stronger sense of humor than I did, fell to the floor, gripping her sides as she shrieked with laughter at her own story. I had to turn away from her to keep from bursting into hysterics like she had, and I waited until my chest had stopped heaving before turning back to the green mare.
"Did you ever visit that hotel with your family again?" I asked, once she'd calmed down enough to hear me.
"Oh, I never even set hoof in Manehatten again, let alone that hotel!" Her lopsided grin dominated her face. "My parents made sure of that."
Our conversation had become an exchanging of stories from our pasts, and the more I learned about this mare, the more I admired her for her talents. Despite being a child prodigy in a number of subjects such as chemistry, mathematics, and even tennis, she'd chosen to become a baker, and had left her hometown to roam the country searching for a town to make her start in. Her confidence was infectious, leading me to brag of my own accomplishments in life. She'd somehow managed the near-impossible feat of making me feel talkative, all on her own. For the first time since moving to this town, I felt relaxed.
"Well, at least they sound like they have some common sense," I said, still smiling. "What was even in that suitcase your brother brought?"
"That's the best part! He shut it before anypony else could see, and he never opened it in public again!"
"And you say whatever was in it was glowing?"
"Yep! When the doorman opened it, a big golden light shone right in his face, like there was a miniature sun in there!" Her smile shone with nostalgia as she recounted the memory. "The rest of the trip was dull as bricks, though. Our parents kept us in our rooms most of the time. I think they were afraid we'd frighten more ponies if we went out on the streets."
"From what you've told me, that sounds exactly like something you would do."
She huffed. "Oh whatever. I didn't care, anyway. I was in my 'late teenage angst' phase. Staying in bed all day was like a dream come true."
I looked her up and down, saying, "I don't think I'd ever be able to picture you in a 'late teenage angst' phase, if that means what I think it means."
"Yeah, well, I'm glad I got over it, too—"
She stopped suddenly, and leaned forward a little to look past me. Following her gaze, I saw she was staring out beyond the gazebo at the rainy world beyond. Only now, it wasn't very rainy at all.
"Oh, it's so beautiful," she breathed.
The rain had ended, and the fog had cleared away, revealing the rest of Ponyville to us once more. The sun shone down, and its reflection glinted from the many puddles formed on outdoor tables, benches, and the ground, giving the entire scene a shimmering look that made it seem like something from a dream. Cementing the image in its dreamlike quality was an enormous rainbow that stretched across the sky, forming a spectral arch over the town that was breathtaking to behold.
"It's stopped raining," I said dumbly, staring at the rainbow arch. "When did it stop raining?"
"I'm not sure," Key said, getting up and stretching her legs out. "We must have been talking for longer than I thought. Time flies when you're having fun, I guess." She smiled, and picked up her pie tin (which was now a few slices lighter than it had been when it had first come under the gazebo's roof). My delivery bag also began to levitate, and Key brought it close to me, but when I reached to take it, she pulled away from me. I looked at her in confusion.
"What are you doing?" I asked.
"I want you to promise me we'll see each other again," she replied, smirking, "and that you'll stop wearing that disguise of yours."
My jaw nearly unhinged. "What? That's ridiculous! Why would you ask me to do something like that?"
She tilted her head to one side, making a pouting expression at me. "Aw, come on, Clip! Was I really such bad company?"
I frowned at her. "You know what I mean."
She sighed. "Yes, I do. And I'm telling you, you can't just go around hiding yourself as another pony. You'll get caught eventually."
"It isn't illegal for me to go around in disguise!" I yelled, louder than I wish I had.
"No, but isn't the point of you being moved here to make it so you don't have to hide?"
I groaned, but she went on anyway:
"Look, you know that not all ponies are afraid of changelings. In fact, I think they'd be more afraid of a changeling that disguises himself than they are of one that walks around in his own skin." She took a step towards me. "Please, Clip? For me?"
"For—" I sputtered. "For you? I've only known you for a few hours!"
"Well, you're the first friend I've made since coming to this town, and I've got a feeling that I'm the first friend you've made since coming here, too." Her cheeks darkened, and she looked down at the ground. "Besides, I think you look better the way you are now."
That almost sent me stumbling back into the balcony. I managed to stay upright, though, and stared at her while she worked up the nerve to look me in the eye again. When she did, she said, "Can you at least promise to see me again sometime?"
I realized my jaw had unhinged, and I shut it quickly before answering, "I... I think I can do at least that, yes."
Her lopsided smile returned, and she levitated my bag back over to me. As I took it, she said, "I have an apartment, just a few blocks from the Ponyville Palace. Do you know where that is?"
I told her I didn't, and she gave me directions to the address.
"I'm on the second floor, the room farthest to the left from the stairs." Her unbalanced smirk reappeared once more, and she added, "Not to brag, but I've got the best view of the town square in the whole building."
She shifted the pie tin in her magical grip and stood still for a moment, as though waiting for something. For a moment, we just looked at each other, she with her tin, me with my delivery satchel. Then, just as I felt a blush begin to form in my cheeks, she muttered, "Okay, bye," and turned to leave. I watched her step to the edge of the gazebo and stop again, fidgeting her hooves. She looked at her pie tin, stared it down for a few seconds, and then set it down and trotted back over to me. Stopping directly in front of me, she looked me dead in the eye, still slightly bashful but now also determined.
"Here," she said, and, without warning, leaned forward and kissed me directly on the lips. I froze in place, and the rest of the world seemed to follow my lead. She kept her lips pressed against mine for what felt like an eternity, but in reality could only have been two seconds. When she pulled away, her face was redder than it was green, and she refused to look me in the eye. She looked regretful, extremely so.
"S-Sorry," she said, shaking like a frightened child. "I just—I mean—" She scrunched her face in concentration. "You... You were hungry this whole time, right? A-And changelings feed off affection, right?"
I could taste the pie she'd eaten. I was still frozen in place.
"So, um, did that work? A-Are you still hungry?"
I was not, actually. Not anymore. In fact, I felt exactly the opposite of hungry; I felt full. Completely and utterly full.
"No..." I murmured. "I actually feel much better now... thank you."
"Oh, it was nothing!" she insisted, though her facial expression and the high-pitched tone in her voice told me otherwise. "Welp, I gotta go! Got that job interview to go to and all that! Bye!"
She spun around, galloped over to her tin, snagged it with her magic, and left me alone under the gazebo. I watched her run off, and once she had turned a corner and was gone I looked down at my hooves. Oddly enough, they were shaking.
I slung my delivery bag over my shoulder and stepped out into the afternoon sunlight, savoring the warm sunlight against my carapace. I didn't bother recasting my disguise; I wouldn't be able to focus enough to maintain it.
I completed the rest of my deliveries thinking of Key Lime, which made it easy to deal with some of the odd looks I got from the ponies I delivered to. I thought of when I could visit her at her second floor apartment, the one with the best view of the town square in it. I wanted to know if she'd gotten the job like she'd hoped, and whether or not she would stay in town if she didn't. I wanted to hear more about her brother and her parents and her trips to Manehatten and Fillydelphia and Dodge Junction. Mostly, though, I just wanted to see her again. Because she had been wrong, when she'd said changelings feed off of affection; a changeling's diet is restricted to just one emotion, one that's particularly hard to come by for our kind, and one that I'd been lucky enough to find in plentiful quantities, all in that one beautiful, amazing, lopsided-smiling mare:
Love.
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THE END
Author's Note
Dear Readers,
I really wanted to end this story with the line, "And that, kids, is how I met your mother." It took every drop of willpower in me not to do that.
It was a lot of fun coming up with the characters Clip and Key Lime. Despite the fact that I only have two other stories that feature OCs in starring roles (the Kilala fics don't count), I always love coming up with them, since there are so many personality traits to work with. It's even more fun when you write it for ponyfiction, since you can add the tropes of magic and flying and changeling abilities and such. I might want to try writing a long-term OC pony story sometime, maybe. Maybe...
When I started writing this, I didn't mean to have Clip's narration sound so sophisticated. I was super tired, and I had the opening "I hate rain" statement already in my head, so after that, I just wrote out a stream of smart-sounding stuff and then went to bed. I only kept it because I checked it out the next morning instead of deleting the entire story and starting over and saw that I wasn't spouting big-word garbage, as some writers I've known tend to do (I use the word 'writers' when describing these folks very very loosely). Everything that follows that opening, I feel, is not quite as special as that drowsy, sleep-deprived stew I put up that first night.
I guess this story can technically be called a sequel to one of my other stories, To Love Being Loved, since plot elements carry over into this one, but since it doesn't really continue the storyline of the original fic, I'm just gonna say this story takes place in the same universe. I don't know if I want to even call it a universe at all, since that usually implies more will be written about that world and I don't want to get anyone's hopes up. If it makes you happy, though, go right ahead and call this the sequel you've been waiting for (or haven't been waiting for)!
Lastly, as you may have seen on the cover page for the story, this is a part of the Outside Insight Fanfiction Contest over on Equestria Daily. They also happen to have a FIMFiction group right here on the site. I highly advise checking the group out (via this link right here), reading some (or all!) of the other entries, and talking it up and spreading hype, because what's a better thing to spread hype about than a writing competition? Besides Guardians of the Galaxy, of course (ohGoddatsoundtrack)!
Happy readings!
—NotARealPonydotcom
P.S. Isn't Pulp Fiction a great movie?
