It was verifiable. Undeniable. Completely Bill Nye-able.
No matter how he spun it, Bombshell realized it was literally impossible not to love Miss Cheerilee. The mare was adored everywhere she went, by everypony she met, and through absolutely everything she did. Every time he asked somepony about it he was met with responses of “Oh she’s so great,” “I love her,” “She’s fantastic with the foals,” and such like notions. Even Bombshell himself felt some degree of appreciation for the mare, she was always willing to lend a hoof if he (or rather the pony he was posing as) seemed to be struggling with groceries or what have you. He’d noticed it right from the start of his deployment in Ponyville, and he’d made it his goal to eventually imponiate the mare. She was, as far as he could tell, unremarkable in every way. Her mane was a rather conservative and typical cut, her walk was the walk of an average pony, she was of above average intelligence but hardly the genius that a pony like Twilight Sparkle might have been. Faust that Twilight was a bother, she had been so paranoid for weeks after the failed wedding that she had actually managed to develop a spell that temporarily disabled a changeling’s ability to, well, change. Bombshell had nearly starved hiding in the forest in the weeks that followed until his powers returned to him.
The original plan was, after Canterlot was taken, the Princesses and the Elements of Harmony subdued, and Chrysalis in control, for the changelings around Equestria to take advantage of the shock and confusion to take over the smaller cities and towns as well. Bombshell was one of only three Changelings deployed to Ponyville, after all, it was a small town and would have been defenseless without the Elements present, so no more than a hoofful of changelings were needed to control the town. However, given the colossal mishap that was the Invasion of Canterlot, both of the other changelings – one of whom he had thought to be Shrapnel, though it was hard to tell as he ran for the hills – had bugged out, as it were, and left him alone. He was now the sole changeling in Ponyville, and that meant, while he had no backup, he had the unrestricted and unchallenged access to the whole of the love the town had to offer. And by Faust did the town have a lot of love to offer. Bombshell had been getting by just fine hopping from one pony to another to feed on the various forms of love available in Ponyville. He had been a marefriend for a while, a dashing young colt at the school that all the little fillies (and a handful of colts) had been crushing on, even a lover met in the clandestine dark alleys of the town for a night of passion.
He’d had enough of just ‘getting by,’ though. Lust had this nasty, sticky aftertaste to it and didn’t agree with his stomach, and crushes, while very sweet, weren’t particularly filling. Bombshell’s most recent mark had been a light gray Pegasus mare with wobbly yellow eyes, but while the love he received from her… honestly the relationship was hard to define, but the love was quite pure. That said, he had only been posing as this one for a short time and already he felt the brown earth stallion he spent time with growing suspicious, not to mention the mare’s daughter. It was considered improper form to imponiate a pony with a young child, both as young foals were more likely to notice an impostor and because it was, on occasion, known for the changeling to become attached to the child. However, Bombshell had admittedly slipped up a little and needed to make a quick change from his last mark, as the lovelorn mint unicorn whose marefriend he had been pretending to be was desperately close to catching him. In short, he panicked, and picked the nearest pony. Now, though, he was definitely beginning to regret that decision, and was, thankfully, near completing his mastery of the mauve mare that was the center of Ponyville’s attention.
On top of that, Bombshell was one of the few changelings given the curse of something fleshies referred to as a “conscience.” It was rare that a changeling felt remorse about the temporary imprisonment of a target, but even knowing they were unconscious and essentially in a state of suspended animation in a cocoon, Bombshell could rarely bring himself to keep the same form for more than a few weeks at a time. That and it was difficult to move a cocoon without waking the occupant, and he was always extremely nervous about keeping one in the same place for too long. The citizens of Ponyville were crazy, nopony in their right mind would wander into the Everfree without some sort of protection. Yet every few days somepony trotted right in like it was nothing out of the ordinary at all, making what should have been an extremely safe hiding place rather unpredictably dangerous.
Back to the issue at hoof, however. Bombshell was relaxing in his home – or rather, in the home of the Pegasus mare he was posing as – reading a book about pony delicacies while the foal napped on the couch beside him. That was the biggest hint he should probably swap out soon, the foal had always rested on her mother’s stomach before. Even if the little unicorn didn’t know exactly what was wrong, and couldn’t quite put it into words, something unsettled her and Bombshell knew it. That, and, watching her interact with her real mother warmed his heart – or it would have if he had one. That was the biggest problem for changelings. They fed on love, and, by extension, could only give what they’d taken in, which was a dangerous business as it was quite literally giving away life-force. It was usually only done if a fellow changeling was on the brink of starving to death if they didn’t get more love that very second.
At any rate, the little foal was asleep, and Bombshell’s nerves were getting the better of him. He set his book down, focused for a moment, and vanished with a pop.
He reappeared a few seconds later in the small clearing in the Everfree he had been keeping the unconscious mare in. Just where he’d left her, the cocoon hung from a tree about five feet off the ground, the gray Pegasus sleeping peacefully with her eyes closed. For a moment he caught himself wishing she was having nice dreams, then remembered that even if she were she wouldn’t remember it in the first place. His horn flared green again for a moment and the cocoon popped, a second spell catching her a split second before she crashed headfirst into the ground. Focusing for a third time, he teleported her back to her couch, then destroyed the remains of the neon green prison.
Now, Bombshell thought, Now we go for the big one.
Cheerilee Punch sat at home by herself, correcting some homework for the next day. In a rare moment of sobriety, her sister, Berry Punch, had taken her daughter out to the park for the evening, and Cheerilee thanked the Sisters for an evening of quiet. Her sister was one of the most remarkably in-control ponies she knew, as far as extremely inebriated ponies go, though she did tend to get a bit… loud sometimes, which would only serve to drive Pinchy off the walls. She winced a little at the memory of the last… incident. She’d been rather fond of that mug.
A knock at the door took her attention from the math worksheets for a moment, and she stretched her legs when she stood, before heading over to the door. She opened it to find a familiar brown earth pony with slicked back hair standing there.
“Why good evening, Mr. Rich,” Cheerilee said, “What brings you here?”
“I just had some questions about my daughter’s academic progress,” the brown stallion replied. “May I come in?”
“I don’t see why not,” Cheerilee answered him, stepping aside, “But I assure you, Diamond has been doing much better recently, her math scores have improved greatly in the last month.”
“Good, good, I’m glad to hear that,” Filthy Rich replied, taking a look around the room. “Nice house you have here, do you live by yourself?”
“No, I – my sister and her daughter live here with me, but they’re out for the evening,” Cheerilee said, an edge of confusion creeping into her voice, “What, if you don’t mind my asking, does this have to do with Diamond’s grades?”
“Oh nothing, nothing, so you’re home alone then?”
Cheerilee hesitated for a second before answering. “Yes, I am the only one home right now. Mr. Rich, if you please, I am not looking for cordial visits at the time.”
“Oh I had nothing of the sort in mind,” he replied with a smile, looking back over at her. “Do stand still, it’s less painful that way.”
“What’s less painful-” Cheerilee stopped mid-sentence and her eyes went wide with fear as a green flash filled the room and a green aura covered her mouth. She tried to scream but no sound came out, and then everything went black.
“Good morning, Cheerilee!” Bonbon called from across the square as she stepped out of her home.
“Good morning, Bonbon!” Cheerilee returned the greeting, waving a hoof high. Bonbon gave her a quizzical glance for just a moment, then went on her way. Cheerilee took a deep breath in through her nose; she reveled in the scent of the sweet morning air. A few birds chirped as they flitted and flew through the sky, the beautiful morning sky, with the sun low on the horizon, burning off the cloud cover into what would surely be an absolutely wonderful day.
“Good morning, Miss Cheerilee!” An aptly named caramel brown earth pony said to her as he trotted by. “Lovely morning, isn’t it?”
“It is indeed!” Cheerilee chirped back. His walk faltered for a split second, but he never looked back.
Oh I can feel it already, Bombshell thought, The love. The love for Cheerilee. The love directed specifically at Cheerilee. Cheerilee’s love. It’s so… you know, I don’t think I’ve ever experienced love this… is pure, the right word? This platonic love is… it’s delicious.
Today was a Saturday, which meant he had the weekend to prepare for class on Monday. He knew everything about Cheerilee – how she walked, how she talked, how many times she ran her hooves through her mane in the shower each morning – but even for a clever changeling like Bombshell, teaching a class would be difficult. It wasn’t exactly his natural skillset, but, being modest, he thought he could manage. But that was what the weekend was for, preparing. But first – breakfast. Rather than the simple illusion magic most ponies could muster, a changeling actually altered their very biology. As such, a disguised changeling didn’t just eat for the sake of keeping up appearances, it actually fueled the magic of the disguise, even if it did nothing to sate the hunger of the changeling themselves. This being the case, Bombshell decided to go to Sugarcube corner. It wasn’t the most common stop for Miss Cheerilee, she typically had a healthier breakfast at home, but she hadn’t been in a while and it wouldn’t be conspicuous.
He entered the small store, the little bell on the doorframe dinging as the wooden door slid by it. A mare by the name of Mrs. Cake stood behind the counter, one whom Bombshell had impersonated for a short stint before deciding twin newborns were more trouble than the love he got from Mr. Cake was worth. Plus, while it was romantic love, it did have a bit of lust mixed in which soured the flavor.
“Good morning, Miss Cheerilee,” Mrs. Cake called from behind the counter as Bombshell strode in, “Not so common seeing you around here. What can I get for you?”
Bombshell surveyed the treats behind the counter, eyes searching for the perfect morning snack. They came to rest on just the right thing.
“Could I please have that blueberry muffin?”
“Of course,” Mrs. Cake replied, one eyebrow lowering just a hair, before she shook her head and moved over behind the counter. “Sorry, didn’t sleep too well last night,” the blue mare explained, “Would you like it in a bag?”
“Yes, please,” Bombshell responded.
“Alrighty,” Mrs. Cake replied with a bit of a huff, depositing the pastry in a brown paper bag, “That’ll be three bits.”
Bombshell hoofed her the requisite cash, took the bag in exchange, and trotted from the building with the package in his mouth. Mrs. Cake thanked her for her patronage, then looked down and realized she was still holding the receipt. Odd, she thought, I could have sworn Cheerilee always took that. Oh well. She tossed the scrap of paper in the trash bin and thought no more of it.
Cheerilee thought it would be a good idea to get home to work on her lesson plans for Monday. Imitating Cheerilee was the easy part, imitating a degree in education would be a bit more difficult. That and the sister, Berry, would be asleep until at least one in the afternoon, and the little foal was sleeping over at a friend’s house and wouldn’t be returning until around the same time. Bombshell was more than confident in his mimicry, but he still always felt more comfortable alone. Alone meant no surprises, and surprises were the most difficult thing to emulate – the little jump of shock a pony gave upon being surprised was a reflex, and a changeling had to both overrule their own reflex and imitate their mark’s reaction faithfully. For example, Cheerilee’s reflex was a small yelp and a couple steps backwards, while his own was a sharp jerk of his head and his body stiffening. He could do it, but it was stressful, so he chose to avoid potentially surprising situations whenever possible, at least while disguised.
He was almost home safe when one particularly troublesome mare came up behind him and called his name.
“Miss Cheerilee?” Twilight Sparkle called. Bombshell felt his head start to slide back but caught himself, and forced a light yelp through his lips and a few steps away from the source of the voice. Why her? He cursed to himself, Why now?
“Oh, I’m sorry Twilight, you startled me. How are you today?” Cheerilee answered.
“Sorry for startling you,” the lavender Alicorn apologized, “I was just wondering if you wanted to maybe grab dinner later? I’ve been reading some more on magical theory involved with earth ponies, and I know how much you’re interested in that.”
“I’m sorry, Twilight, but I think I’ll have to decline,” Bombshell started carefully, “I’m a little behind on my lesson planning, and I was intending on getting caught up this afternoon. Perhaps another time?” Rule number one: keep the lie as close to the truth as possible. That and the passive love this town feels for Cheerilee is enough for me to gorge on for an eternity without ever leaving that house.
“Oh, that’s ok. Just let me know if you ever want to. I’ll catch you later, Cheerilee!” Twilight replied cheerfully, not in the slightest bit discouraged, and turned to walk away. Bombshell too restored his own walk toward Cheerilee’s house, which was now only a few steps away.
“Oh, Cheerilee?” Both ponies turned to look back at each other. “Did you… did you do something different with your mane?”
Bombshell felt his muscles tense up, but did his best not to let it show. Of all ponies, Twilight Sparkles was the one he feared the most, even more than the princesses, if just because they were so much less likely to show up. But no, Twilight Sparkle, the mare who knew how to expose changelings, seemed to suspect something was up.
“Why, no, I don’t think so,” Cheerilee replied, “I had to get a different brand of shampoo at the store this time, but other than that, no, nothing.”
“Huh. Something seems a little different about you today. Oh well, I won’t keep you any longer. Have a nice day, Cheerilee!”
“You too, Twilight!” Cheerilee called after her friend as she trotted away, and took the last few yards to her house at a bit quicker than her normal walking pace. Bombshell could feel the sweat beading up on his forehead as he closed the door behind him. Rule number two: don’t panic. He took a deep breath in through his nose, and counted to ten as he slowly exhaled through his mouth. Again – in through the nose, exhale slowly through his mouth. He stood there, breathing slowly and heavily for a minute or two, before regaining enough composure to think clearly. ‘Something seems a little different about you’? What seems a little different about me? This is a flawless imponiation, I know it, I’ve studied her for so long, I know every single detail is accurate. He walked calmly to the kitchen and set down his muffin on the table, then focused for a moment and vanished.
Reappearing in another clearing similar to, but far away from, the one he had hidden Derpy’s cocoon in, Bombshell took a moment to get his bearings. Teleporting was a finicky business, one that was only made more finicky by being in any state other than “completely calm.” Side effects ranged from mild disorientation upon landing to reappearing somewhere completely other than intended, or displacing matter instead of replacing it, leading to something resembling an explosion. Thankfully, this was on the lighter end of things – Bombshell had appeared a few feet from his target destination, and was only a little turned around. Cheerilee swiveled her head around, and located the cocoon her body was hidden in. The cocoon itself provided the disguise, in a way, it was more than just a fascinating tidbit about changeling biology, the magic object actually monitoring and sending information to a changeling as a live feed of sorts. A changeling could, of course, manually disguise him or herself as a mark without having them in a cocoon, but the cocoon made things much easier, and made it harder to miss details.
Even still, Bombshell found himself scrutinizing the mare through the translucent green shell of the cocoon. He could see nothing he’d missed, not a hair was out of place on his mane compared to the one in the green prison before him. He’s studied every movement she made for so long, he knew he had her body language down.
So what on earth did Twilight notice? Then he made a realization. What on earth did everypony notice? Bonbon and Caramel paused when I greeted them this morning, Mrs. Cake’s eyebrow twitched… something it unsettling them, but neither they nor I can put a hoof on it. It’s worth paying attention to, but I doubt it’ll cause any problems. Yet.
Bombshell decided that this was doing nothing to help remedy the situation, and knowing every moment longer he spent away from here was another moment more likely that he’d teleport back into a home into a room less empty than he’d left it. Earth ponies don’t teleport, so that’d be awfully hard to explain to Berry or Pinchy. He focused again, and disappeared.
The day waxed on without event – Berry had still be asleep and Pinchy still out of the house when Bombshell had returned, thankfully – and he sat working on the lesson plans for the next week or so. She turned her head up at the sound of some irregular hoofsteps working her way down the stairs, and saw Berry walking – or, more accurately, stumbling – down them into the kitchen. Bombshell returned to his work.
“Good afternoon, sister,” the changeling said, “Is there anything I can help you with? Some lunch, maybe a glass of water?”
“Ugh, no thanksh,” Berry groaned in reply, her voice still slurred.
“Still drunk I see? Alright, just let me know if there’s anything you need,” Bombshell said, circling an item on his paper.
“Where’s my shister?”
Bombshell looked up, unable to contain the jerk of his head at the sudden accusation.
“I’m sitting right here, Berry. Do I need to take you to Nurse Redheart again?”
“No, no, don’t give me that, you are not my shishter.”
“Berry, you are drunk.”
“No matter how drunk I am,” Berry continued, the slur rapidly disappearing from her voice, “There are two ponies I will always, always be able to tell from anypony else. My daughter, and my sister. And you,” she gestured unsteadily with a hoof, “are not my sister.”
“Berry what are you talking about, of course I-”
“Lyra?” The slur returned, “Isshat you again? I know you’ve been practishing your illushun magic, it’sh not niche to play tricksh on a drunk pony.”
“Berry! It’s me,” Bombshell said, gesturing to the body he was pretending to be, “You are very drunk. I am not Lyra, nor any other unicorn pretending to be your sister. I am me, I am Cheerilee.”
“Shtop saying that!” Berry was yelling suddenly, “You’re not Cheers! You aren’t! Dang it Lyra, I’m going to tell Bonbon about this.”
“Berry please-” Bombshell protested, but Berry blitzed past him and out the door before he could stop her.
Oh this is just great.
“Bonbon!” Berry Punch yelled as she ran into the candy store.
The cream-colored earth mare dropped a basket of candies, startled at the sudden, loud intrusion.
“Berry! What brings you here this afternoon?”
“You tell your marefriend to shtop playing tricks on me!” Berry yelled, indignant.
“Please, lower your voice,” Bonbon said softly, “No need to yell.”
“Shorry.”
“It’s alright. What did Lyra do to you this time?”
“She was at my houshe, pretending to be my shister! But I can always tell my shister. It must be a family thing,” Berry replied.
“Berry dear, Lyra’s been here since last night. She couldn’t possible be at you-”
“Well somepony not my shister was! And I don’t see Lyra around here anywhere!”
“Berry. You are drunk. Lyra!” Bonbon called, and sure enough, the minty unicorn trotted in from the back room.
“But- how- you?” Berry stuttered.
“Berry, I haven’t done anything since last weekend,” Lyra said quietly.
“Well… something’s wrong with my shister then. Something ishn’t right,” Berry thought aloud, puzzled.
“You know,” Bonbon began, “Something did seem off when I saw her this morning. I couldn’t put my hoof on it, but you’re definitely right, something was off about her, and Caramel mentioned it when he came in for his weekly caramel fix, but I just wrote it off as him being paranoid.”
“Maybe we should ashk Twilight?” Berry suggested.
“Seems a bit of an overreaction, but with the whole changeling fiasco recently, it might not be entirely unwarranted. Lyra, can you watch the shop for a bit?”
“Of course, dear,” Lyra replied, planting a light kiss on Bonbon’s cheek. “Go take care of this.”
“Thanks, love. Come on, Berry, let’s go see Twilight.”
“Thanksh.”
“You know,” Twilight said, “Now that you mention it, I did notice something different with her this morning, but I wasn’t sure what it was. I asked her if it was maybe her mane, but she said that wasn’t it. If a changeling, though, has replaced her, which would explain it. Come on, let’s go.”
Twilight had taken remarkably little convincing to come see what was wrong with Cheerilee once Berry had said the word “changeling.” The mare was more than a little paranoid about the mysterious black creatures, and not unjustifiably so, after what had happened at her brother’s wedding. Bonbon had elected to go back to her candy shop, but Twilight and Berry hurried back to the Punch residence.
They found Cheerilee still at the kitchen table, still pouring over her lesson plans.
“Cheerilee?”
Bombshell looked up, forcing himself to stay calm under the gaze of the Alicorn. “Yes, Twilight?”
“Could you hold still for a moment? I promise this won’t hurt a bit,” Twilight said, and her horn began to glow.
Aw crap, Bombshell cursed in his head, and he teleported.
“T-t-t-twilight? Did I just shee that?”
“Yes, Berry Punch, yes you did.”
“Are earth ponies shpposhed to do that?”
“No, Berry Punch, they’re not.”
How? How could they have found out so quickly? I did everything right, what went wrong?
Bombshell fumed in the clearing he had the real Cheerilee imprisoned in, pacing back and forth, staring at the unconscious mare. His cover was blown at this point anyways; he’d used high-level magic in front of other ponies while disguised as an earth pony. There was no reason not to release her and ask her about it, when he could just as easily wipe her memories later. He dropped the façade and his horn glowed as he used magic to free the earth mare. He caught her before she hit the ground, and, placing a small bit of changeling gum over her mouth, revived her.
Do not scream. The voice filled Cheerilee’s head before she was even sure where she was. Her eyes widened when she saw the changeling standing before her, and she jerked her head around rapidly, trying to figure out where she was. We are in the Everfree Forest. The voice again, in her head, not her own. Nothing else can enter this clearing, I have made sure of that. I will remove the binding from your mouth if you promise not to scream. Nod if you understand. Cheerilee nodded, eyes now back on the changeling, watching warily. Good. You understand. Nod again if you agree not to scream. Cheerilee nodded again. Bombshell walked over to her, and as gently as he could, removed the binding covering the mare’s lips.
“Who are you?” She snapped, trying to discreetly look around for anywhere to run.
I said nothing could enter this clearing. Nothing can leave it without teleporting, either. You cannot run. My name is Bombshell, and I am a changeling.
“Why… why aren’t you talking? How come I can hear you in my head?” Cheerilee asked.
Changelings do not have vocal chords in their natural state, so we communicate telepathically. If you would prefer, I could don the appearance of a pony so we could have a more… verbal conversation.
“No, it’s fine, really,” Cheerilee said, wincing at the insincerity in her voice. She would be lying if she said the changeling’s natural form did not disturb her somewhat. Thankfully, he seemed to either not notice or not care.
Very well. I have some questions for you, if you do not mind.
“Go ahead, I suppose.”
I have lived in Ponyville for many years, and I have taken the places of many different ponies over my time here. But you – you are the first pony who I have not been able to successfully imponiate. I studied you for a very long time, watched the love flowing into you from every pony in the town. You were the perfect pony to replace. I have replaced ponies for months at a time and nopony noticed, not even spouses. With you? It took less than four hours, and at least four different ponies noticed something was wrong. How? What is so special about you?
“I don’t suppose I’d ever really noticed that,” Cheerilee responded after a moment’s thought. Bombshell stomped a hoof and rolled his head to one side, turning away from her. “I just… be myself, really.”
How can you not know? You are the only pony in the entire town so completely and purely loved. How do you just… not notice a thing like that?
“I suppose I don’t have quite the sense for it that you do.”
Bombshell snorted. Fair enough, I suppose. Well, this is perhaps a mystery for another time. My cover has been completely blown now, thanks to you, and I shall have to leave. I have honestly enjoyed my time here in Ponyville, and much of the love was delicious. I’m going to knock you out now. Bombshell’s horn began to glow green.
“Wait,” Cheerilee said, watching the aura disappear from around the changeling’s horn. “Why didn’t you ever just… ask?”
Ask what?
“Ask to be loved. Show us who you really were. Why did you always hide and take bits and scraps of love on the side?”
I… it never occurred to me. Changelings and ponies have never gotten along, though, and I see no reason for those tensions to ease just because I asked to be loved.
“You could have tried, though,” Cheerilee mumbled.
I know I could have. But I did not. Maybe someday changelings and ponies can live side by side with no secrets or masks, but today is not that day. Goodbye, Cheerilee.
“Wait!” Cheerilee cried out again as the aura began to swirl, but this time she was ignored and the world went black.
“Cheers! Cheers wake up!”
Cheerilee awoke in the clearing again, being shaken by her sister.
“Berry, I think she’s awake now,” Twilight Sparkle chided, “Cheerilee, would you mind holding still for a moment?” The Alicorn didn’t wait for a reply, and her horn glowed a faint purple for just a moment. Cheerilee felt a slight tingle in her body, and shivered in response.
“It’s her this time, Twilight, I can tell,” Berry told the other mare, hugging her sister closely.
“Yes, it is, that spell would have broken the disguise if she had been a changeling,” Twilight answered.
“A changeling?” Cheerilee asked.
“Do you… not remember what happened?”
“No, the last thing I remember before waking up in here was correcting homework. What happened?”
“It’s a bit of a story, Cheers,” Berry told her, “but let’s get home first.” Berry Punch pulled her sister to her hooves, and the three set off back towards Ponyville.
Maybe someday. Cheerilee paused for a moment as the thought entered her head, and turned to look behind her as though expecting to see the source.
“Something wrong, Cheers?” Berry asked, stopping to look at her sister.
“No, nothing, I just… thought I heard something. Let’s go home.”
