Changeling Anon II - Hecklers & Hunters

>Night finally falls over Appaloosa, cloaking the whole of the town in darkness.
>The only real "street lamps" are a few lanterns here and there that are haphazardly placed along various buildings.
>You stared out into the dark thoroughfare that ran down the main strip of Appaloosa.
>Ponies were slowly but surely giving their goodbyes and heading to their respective places, be they at the local watering hole, or the saloon.
>As you look over at the single bed in the room, you find that Trixie has fallen asleep already.
>God damn she's adorable.
>The thought of sleep makes you shudder, but you know that it has to come at some point.
>Might as well be sooner, rather than later.
>You can only hope that you aren't faced with those terrible dreams yet again.
>As you lay down on the (surprisingly) soft bed, you quickly let yourself fall into the general blackness of slumber.
>There is the dream again, alright.
>That roiling throng of voices and shapes, now more distinct as you peer through the gloom.
>Black as night, all with glowing blue eyes and fangs.
>They're shouting fanatical praises, screaming some sort of worship towards a figure atop an emerald throne high above.
>The shadow atop the emerald throne moves and shifts constantly, letting out a hideous, high-pitched laughter.
>You feel some sort of pulling on your head, like something is picking and tugging at your brain. You of course attempt to resist and fight it.
>The crazed mob around you makes that all the more difficult. Yeesh are they loud.
>The figure at the top of the emerald throne seems to stare at you. Strange, glistening green eyes lock with yours.
>You can almost see a mouth moving, as if to say something, but all you hear in your head is that same, piercing laughter.
>As you throw yourself up in the bed through shock, you find the dim rays of morning welcome upon your face.
>If this is how sleep is, you debate on inventing the coffee machine.

>You look over and find Trixie is still asleep, snoring softly and kicking a hind hoof.
>Best not to wake her at the moment. You should scope out the situation downstairs.
>You trot out of the room, heading down the hallway towards the stairs, making out the sound of distinct voices.
>"...'round here. Ponies are gettin' all kinds of crazy thinkin' we've got a bug problem."
>"Ah know, ah know. But just keep yourself together, Stout. Ain't nopony gonna start leavin' your saloon because of that. You're the only pony in town that even deals in alcohol. Your customers'll keep on comin'."
>You round the corner at the bottom of the stairs, seeing the bartender and Braeburn speaking to one another. The saloon is empty, beyond that.
>You guess that Stout is the bartender's name. He hasn't actually formally introduced himself to you. Or maybe even Trixie, for that matter.
>As you approach the pair, Braeburn gives you a slight look of distaste. You don't particularly give two shits about it. The show never did display how butthurt he could get.
>Stout gives a small wave and an actual smile. You're a bit surprised, but given the circumstances, you'd be pretty happy too with close-to-free labor.
>"Well hey there! The Saloon ain't gonna open for a while, so you have abooouuut two or so hours to get yerself acquainted with everything here."
>And here you thought you'd graduated from waiting tables a few years ago.
>Turns out, that experience helps you a bit.
>Between learning the names of different drinks, getting yourself acquainted (you decided on the name "Starfall" due to a comet cutie mark), and getting some basic dishes under your hooves, you learn enough to handle yourself relatively well in the saloon.
>It's around this time, near the ass end of your "training" that Trixie decides to finally stumble her way down the stairs.

>"Nnngh...the Awakened and Well-Rested Trixie is feeling fantastic...so what are we to do today?"
>Stout gives Trixie a deadpan expression and points at the door and the small crowd of ponies gathering outside of the saloon.
>"Well, considerin' that we open in 12 minutes, you're just gonna have to learn on the fly."
>You start laughing as Trixie looks shocked, glancing back between Stout and the door. This lasts for a few moments before Trixie finally begins talking again.
>"T-Twelve minutes? That's fine, Trixie will learn everything she needs to learn during work!"
>Stout chuckles and then nods at the pair of employees.
>"Alright then. Ya'll need to toss somethin' on to look at least like ya work here. Head to the back and each of ya take somethin' off the rack."
>You follow behind Trixie, still in the ending throes of a laughing fit. That expression she had was something you just couldn't get over.
"You know, it's not like this is a permanent thing, Trixie. I wouldn't worry about it if you mess up a bit tonight."
>Trixie huffs as she selects a small vest with the Appaloosa symbol on the side.
>"Trixie is NOT worried! Trixie is fully prepared to satisfy each and every customer here!"
>She seemed honestly confused at your laughter as you walked out. It must have taken a good five minutes to gain control of yourself.
>As you both emerged with matching vests, looking like the epitome of the Equestrian serving industry, Stout was already readying a few drinks to be served.
"Alright, we're all ready to work. Do we just let them in or do we-"
>You're cut off as a general horde of ponies start to flow into the saloon, and in a flurry of panic you start to try and get to work.
>Looking at Trixie, you can already tell that shit's gonna hit the fan sooner rather than later.

>As the saloon got into full swing, you found yourself struggling with jobs of trying to manage the orders given, and trying to make sure Trixie didn't start swinging on anyone in the room.
>Every time you saw her, there was a barely-masked rage behind her face.
>For a professional entertainer, this probably felt a little demeaning.
>Stout was serving as fast as he could, but you could tell by the way he looked that this wasn't a normal rush. This was probably a larger crowd than he normally had.
>On the bright side, Trixie being a unicorn meant getting drinks and orders out faster than expected.
>With the bar having been filled in a matter of minutes, most of the ponies were out at tables around the saloon.
>The taste in the air was of that same, intoxicating sugary sweetness that you tasted before. Definitely the taste of mirth or merriment.
>Your attempts at subtly feeding off of each person you served worked pretty well, and was filling your aching stomach. Your coat seemed to have a new sheen about it, and you felt far more energetic than you did before.
>You certainly needed it, after all the chaos that was erupting about the place.
>Trixie seemed to be having a tough time trying to memorize dishes and drinks, resulting in a few wrong orders.
>Most of the ponies genuinely didn't seem to care too much. Maybe they were decent folks after all, despite how you first met them.
>Or they were all getting hammered pretty quickly. You weren't quite sure about the normal equine alcohol tolerance.
>The air was thick at this point with that emotionally charged energy. Sure, it wasn't love (not that you'd tasted it, you just knew that was a changeling's main goal), but it sure as hell was good.
>But of course, there was something else going on. You could smell it. The ponies around here did seem to all be on edge in a small way, even the drunkards.
>Of course, you knew something was up when Braeburn leaped onto a table.

>"Alright ya'll, Ah know I could have called for all of ya'll at the town hall, but Ah figured it would have been better to get everypony in a good mood before we discussed what was goin' on here in our little town."
>Da fuq. No wonder Stout looked so panicked - Braeburn had called the entire town in here for some sort of meeting. Must have been far busier than normal. You shift uncomfortably and start to move back towards the bar.
>Trixie follows close by you. The look of suspicion on her face confirms that she doesn't like the looks of things going on at the moment either.
>"Now, to start off with our first order of business, I need to point to ya'll that we have heard a few reports and rumors goin' about Appaloosa that there is a...a changeling on the loose."
>Hushed whispers. Ponies looking paranoid. A metallic taste growing in the air. The flavor stings and your eyes begin to water from it.
>"Ah hate to say this, but them rumors are true."
>The metallic taste doubles in it's intensity. You have to hold back from gagging as you try to listen in to whatever kind of speech Braeburn is giving.
>"Now now, ya'll don't have to panic. We have ourselves on high alert, and we'll be catchin' these bugs before ya know it."
>Trixie shifts nervously, looking over at you and then at the crowd. You must look like a mess right now. Stout is keeping himself quiet, cleaning glasses behind the bar.
>"For our second order of business...we have a temporary group of residents here in our little town, workin' in this very establishment." Braeburn gives a grin and gestures towards you and Trixie.
>"Starfall and Trixie here are going to be working here in the Appaloosa Saloon for the next few weeks. Now, ah know ya'll have had some problems with Trixie, but we really should treat her Great and Powerfulness with the utmost respect."
>The words were dripping sarcasm, and the taste of metal in the air shifts to something more foul. You can't quite describe it.

>You hear whispers and snickering at the concept and you grimace, keeping an eye on Trixie.
>She's positioning herself behind the bartop, attempting to keep her head low from the eyes of the saloon patrons.
>Of course, a drunken voice comes out from one of the tables after the whispering intensifies. That foul taste in the air grows with it and it's all you can do to keep your stomach from flipping over on itself.
>"Why don't you go on and show us a few feats, Trixie? Go on, show us what the 'Great and Powerful Trixie' can do!"
>More laughter coming from the patrons. You feel like you're about to lose it. You gotta do somethin' to stop this or else you're gonna be sitting in a pile of sick at any moment.
>As you open your mouth to start talking, you're actually a bit shocked as your voice is drowned out by the booming intensity that was coming from Stout at the end of the bar.
>"Now ya'll just shut yer traps 'fore I bust 'em!"
>The foul taste in the air dissipates almost immediately. Clean air, for the moment. You give a sigh of relief, watching Stout as he continues.
>"Ya'll aren't gonna come in to MY saloon, and badmouth MY servers! If any of my patrons has a problem with them, they come to me."
>Another hoof slam onto the bartop. Another crack in the wood. Another reminder to never get on Stout's bad side. Ever.
>"Now, I was never notified of any sort of meetin' goin' on here. I quite honestly am done with it. Saloon's closin' early. Ya'll can take your meetin' elsewhere, outside of my establishment."
>Shocked faces of ponies everywhere. Lots of muttering and mumbling and shuffling of hooves as the place vacates. Braeburn shoots you and Trixie both a dirty look before leaping off of his table, heading out with the crowd.
>"I'm sorry that ya'll got put in the frying pan like that. Didn't expect it either, m'self." Stout looks over and sighs apologetically.
>"Saloon is closed for the evenin'. Lets get this all cleaned up."

>The cleaning went by slowly, and without any sort of conversation.
>Trixie looked like she was far worse off than either of you. She probably took the heckling pretty roughly.
>You're not quite sure what to do at this point.
>Stout sends you both to the back, having the mare in the kitchen cook something up for the pair of you.
>Nothing special, just a small salad and grits. You took the plate given to you, even though you were sure you couldn't even come close to stomaching all of this. You'd eaten your fill anyway during the inebriated rush through the saloon.
>A quiet meal, and finally everything was put away. The cooking mare in the back said she'd take care of the cleaning back there, leaving you and Trixie free for the remainder of the evening.
>Stout left the saloon after locking up, and you both went back to your room.
>Finally, after the relative hour and a half of silence, Trixie begins to speak.
>"It's hard for Trixie to work in this kind of position. This kind of work is not befitting an entertainer such as Trixie."
>You nod and crawl onto the bed, sitting down on the plush surface and looking at the fallen entertainer.
"Well, it's better than having to pay Stout the bits outright. Plus, I'm sure he'll be keeping more of a handle on things going on in the saloon."
>That same pickled taste from before was filling the air. Yep, definitely depression and sadness. It left a bad taste in your mouth, but you weren't going to start complaining any time soon.
>"You have a point, Starfall. You certainly have a point."
>You pull back on the bed and shift to the side, giving her room.
>As Trixie crawls into the bed with you, you mutter back to her as you get ready for another night of freaky dreams.
"Just call me Anon, Trixie."
>"...alright then. Goodnight, Anon."
>You both settle down to sleep. Today was a bad day. Hopefully the next will be better.

>The dreams that you're plunged into for the past few nights are what you fear to be the norm.
>Each night, they've grown more vivid and lucid in their presentation.
>Tonight, you are finally able to make out just what the shape upon the emerald throne is saying.
>"Join me, my child...join me."
>A repetition of the phrase, over and over again. It's becoming more difficult to resist at this point.
>You find yourself occasionally joining in with the chanting and worship of the crowd, giving praises towards the emerald throne.
>You feel...right doing this. It feels like something you should do. But you force yourself to pull away each time you let yourself get pulled in to the crowd of zealots.
>You wake with a start in the morning, your head pounding and your stomach rumbling like an engine.
"Ugh...yeesh my head..."
>Just as last time, Trixie is still asleep and snoring. You decide it would be best to get some fresh air.
>It's not difficult to unlock the saloon from the inside. You take the back entrance out, stepping behind the building.
>The sound of voices made you instinctively run to the shadows, ducking into them and trying to listen.
>They were on the side of the building, speaking in hushed voices.
>"Ah'm just glad ya'll came when ya did. We needed a professional here."
>"It's our duty to hunt down the Changeling Menace that threatens our borders. We appreciate the notification."
>"And of course ah appreciate the compensation. It's well worth my time to get somepony out here."
>"Of course, Braeburn. Her Highness' coffers are vast and immeasurable. And safety is a priceless thing."
>Well shit. This just went from bad to worse.

>You lean over to try and get a better look at the pair of voices. At the very least, you'd want to know just WHO is out hunting you.
>You narrow your eyes as you see a large, lumpy sack between Braeburn and another pony.
>The other pony in question is wearing a cloak, as well as a clearly visible pendant with a symbol of the sun about his neck.
>"I'm sure you understand the implications of us catching the...insect. The town will have to be placed under quarantine if a confirmed changeling infestation is found."
>Braeburn shuffled slightly at the words, but he replied in a very firm, even tone.
>"Anything is worth it for the safety of Appaloosa. Ah can't let some love leeching monster go skulking around at night and feeding off of the good, honest ponies that work here. It's not right, it's not natural, and ah sure as sugar ain't gonna let it go on longer than it has to."
>You scowl at the pair as you continue to watch. You were far from a monster! Well, sort of. You were more of a harmless parasite. They had so much love and joy to spare, why not let you feed a bit off of them? It wouldn't be skulking if they weren't dead set on squashing you.
>"I'll be scouting around the town to find any signs of your problem. I assume our business is done for now?"
>" 'Course it is! Ah can rest a bit easier now that I know that there's somepony with experience keepin' an eye out on the town."
>Braeburn pauses for a moment before continuing, stopping the cloaked pony as they were turning to leave.
>"Keep an eye on that Trixie and her pal. They're workin' at the saloon, and they aren't to be trusted. Came in 'round the same time of the spotting."
>The cloaked pony nods silently and starts away from the building, leaving Braeburn to pick up the bag of bits in front of him and start off elsewhere.
>Of course something like this would happen.
>You weren't sure whether to tell Trixie or not, so you quickly worked your way back into the Saloon, locking it behind you.

>This wasn't a good situation to be in, being hunted. You weren't used to it in any way, and the concept of it made your chitin crawl.
>Your coat has faded since the night before, going a darker shade towards your original chitin.
>You'd have to keep on top of that with folks out there actively hunting you, now. You decide it's better to warn Trixie as you make your way up the stairs.
>She's sleeping as peacefully as ever. You hate to break that, but now wasn't the time to just laze about. You start to shake her slightly to rouse her.
"Trixie! Trixie, get up! There's something I need to talk to you about."
>With a groan, she finally peels open her eyelids, revealing those large violet eyes.
>"Hrmph. Yes? What is so important as to interrupt the Great and Powerful Trixie's sleep?"
>You sigh heavily and nod towards the door as you start to speak.
"Apparently, Braeburn has issued some sort of order with hunters. There's at least one here in town, and he was told to watch us for some sort of changeling activity."
>Trixie looked stunned by the concept. She frowned deeply as she rolled the thought around in her head, trying to make sense of it.
>"So, that foal thinks that Trixie and her assistant Anon are changelings? Why the nerve! We are most certainly not changelings!"
>For some reason, part of you is laughing maniacally at this statement.
>"Trixie will show them all! They will rue the day they besmirched Trixie's good name!"
>You open your mouth to reply, but the sound of a bell outside draws you to the window instead.
>Outside, standing on a large platform, appear to be several ponies. The platform was sitting close to the center of the town.
>Even from here, you could see the shine of their pendants as they rang a large bell, drawing sleepy ponies out of their homes to see the commotion.
"Trixie, I think we should go outside. It'll draw suspicion if we don't."
>Why do the bad guys have to always work so fast? You think this as you leave to investigate.