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Best-Laid Plans
The earth shook on Ghatanothoa’s 1,594,323th birthday when there were no unicorn princesses to be had.
Idh-yaa screeched a lullabye which calmed the rampaging godling and split off two new continents.
“Vulgtlagln lloig y'hah zhro 'fhalma Tsathoggua, k'yarnak syha'h hai ngfm'latgh,” Cthylla said.
The speech of the Old Ones cannot be translated into any human tongue. A paraphrase might be: To be smothered to death once in each of Tsathoggua’s armpits every day until the stars expire is too good for the salesthing that sold me a pony colony with no princess.
Idh-yaa raised its leather wings above its head and shook its stamens, releasing a cloud of pollen which smelled like dead meat and turned the sun as green as a week-old yolk. That is to say, Idh-yaa sighed.
In the valley below, the ponies were fighting. They ignored the three unearthly forms darkening the horizon, instead neighing, nipping, and saying scandalous things about each other’s dams.
Cythylla shrugged a hundred dark noodly shoulders. The ones in the display looked so delectably innocent.
There's no [untranslatable] in destroying ones bent on destroying themselves, Idh-yaa snorted. And this was advertised as educational!
Ghatanothoa focused its lens-array on the ponies, stamped the ground with a dozen pseudopods, and shouted, “Nazhro gnaiih ee vulgtm!” This meant nothing at all, as it was not yet even two million years old.
Let it vent its fury, Idh-yaa said. How long can a youngling rage?
Cythylla looked back, saying nothing.
“Chupadgh,” Idh-yaa said. This is one word of the Old Speech that can be translated. It means, Shit.
“Stell'bsna gastur lloig cep naflsll'ha fhtagn, shtunggli gnaiih chtenff gotha ph'ftaghu wgah'n, athg nasyha'h fm'latgh,” Idh-yaa said, or, This is a terrible idea.
This is an especially imprecise translation. The Old Speech has no word for “terrible,” as the fish-people of R’lyeh have no word for “water.” The words give examples of “bad, relative to the standards of the Elder Gods.” A literal translation would drive one mad.
Idh-yaa held out one foreleg and beheld it with disgust. No thousand limbs shimmering iridescent oily black now; only four stiff legs coated in wispy blue-gray fibers.
Peace. Before a [3^5 years] passes, the youngling’s gaze will wander, and we shall discard these forms.
In fact Ghatanothoa’s gaze, and indeed its entire body, had already wandered, and was expressing its disappointment in its birthday present by creating interesting geological formations in what we now call Zebrica.
The Old Ones watched the hideously colored ponies bounding up the mountain. “Greetings, my little pony,” Cythylla said to the first to arrive.
Idh-yaa sighed.
Cythylla and Idh-yaa looked down from their castle’s tallest tower upon the kingdom below.
“Here is a world worth defiling!” Idh-yaa said proudly.
“Indeed,” Cythylla agreed, stroking the mane of a golden pegasus stallion who lay at its feet.
They seldom spoke the Old Speech anymore. They had taken pony names and pony consorts, and found pony speech less wanting, and less likely to make their courtiers stumble and drool.
The pegasus opened its eyes. “What was that?”
“Nothing, Butter dear,” Cythylla replied.
Idy-yaa was on the battlements teaching Moonmist to feel the lunar wind the night Ghatanothoa returned.
It slithered through the forest, up to the outer keep. Its idiot gaze swept across the ponies staggering from their sleep.
Cythylla and Idy-yaa charged, horns lowered. Ghatanothoa touched them with one clumsy tentacle, and they rolled to the grass.
“Lo! I am slain!” Idy-yaa called. The false princess thrashed its legs, then lay still.
“And I likewise!” said Cythylla.
Each cracked one eyelid open to watch Ghatanothoa.
It snatched up a pony, a goat, and a dragon visiting from afar, and plucked an eagle from the sky. Their screams lasted mere seconds. Skin, bones, and innards rained all round while claws clicked merrily.
Two false pony eyes opened wider.
Where four had been, Ghatanothoa set gently down one mad thing of wing, horn, hair, and scale. Then it reached for Moonmist and Butter Breeze, and their screams tore the night.
Idy-yaa stood up.
So did Cythylla.
They locked their eyes on Ghatanothoa and lowered their heads, and when their hornglow faded there was a column of oily smoke where the godling had stood.
They sniffed the air, stamped their hooves, and turned to face each other.
“Sister,” Cythylla said.
“Sister,” Idy-yaa replied.
And when the dazed ponies gathered around, these new sisters swore to them that no such monster would ever trouble them again.
Idh-yaa screeched a lullabye which calmed the rampaging godling and split off two new continents.
“Vulgtlagln lloig y'hah zhro 'fhalma Tsathoggua, k'yarnak syha'h hai ngfm'latgh,” Cthylla said.
The speech of the Old Ones cannot be translated into any human tongue. A paraphrase might be: To be smothered to death once in each of Tsathoggua’s armpits every day until the stars expire is too good for the salesthing that sold me a pony colony with no princess.
Idh-yaa raised its leather wings above its head and shook its stamens, releasing a cloud of pollen which smelled like dead meat and turned the sun as green as a week-old yolk. That is to say, Idh-yaa sighed.
In the valley below, the ponies were fighting. They ignored the three unearthly forms darkening the horizon, instead neighing, nipping, and saying scandalous things about each other’s dams.
Cythylla shrugged a hundred dark noodly shoulders. The ones in the display looked so delectably innocent.
There's no [untranslatable] in destroying ones bent on destroying themselves, Idh-yaa snorted. And this was advertised as educational!
Ghatanothoa focused its lens-array on the ponies, stamped the ground with a dozen pseudopods, and shouted, “Nazhro gnaiih ee vulgtm!” This meant nothing at all, as it was not yet even two million years old.
Let it vent its fury, Idh-yaa said. How long can a youngling rage?
Cythylla looked back, saying nothing.
“Chupadgh,” Idh-yaa said. This is one word of the Old Speech that can be translated. It means, Shit.
“Stell'bsna gastur lloig cep naflsll'ha fhtagn, shtunggli gnaiih chtenff gotha ph'ftaghu wgah'n, athg nasyha'h fm'latgh,” Idh-yaa said, or, This is a terrible idea.
This is an especially imprecise translation. The Old Speech has no word for “terrible,” as the fish-people of R’lyeh have no word for “water.” The words give examples of “bad, relative to the standards of the Elder Gods.” A literal translation would drive one mad.
Idh-yaa held out one foreleg and beheld it with disgust. No thousand limbs shimmering iridescent oily black now; only four stiff legs coated in wispy blue-gray fibers.
Peace. Before a [3^5 years] passes, the youngling’s gaze will wander, and we shall discard these forms.
In fact Ghatanothoa’s gaze, and indeed its entire body, had already wandered, and was expressing its disappointment in its birthday present by creating interesting geological formations in what we now call Zebrica.
The Old Ones watched the hideously colored ponies bounding up the mountain. “Greetings, my little pony,” Cythylla said to the first to arrive.
Idh-yaa sighed.
Cythylla and Idh-yaa looked down from their castle’s tallest tower upon the kingdom below.
“Here is a world worth defiling!” Idh-yaa said proudly.
“Indeed,” Cythylla agreed, stroking the mane of a golden pegasus stallion who lay at its feet.
They seldom spoke the Old Speech anymore. They had taken pony names and pony consorts, and found pony speech less wanting, and less likely to make their courtiers stumble and drool.
The pegasus opened its eyes. “What was that?”
“Nothing, Butter dear,” Cythylla replied.
Idy-yaa was on the battlements teaching Moonmist to feel the lunar wind the night Ghatanothoa returned.
It slithered through the forest, up to the outer keep. Its idiot gaze swept across the ponies staggering from their sleep.
Cythylla and Idy-yaa charged, horns lowered. Ghatanothoa touched them with one clumsy tentacle, and they rolled to the grass.
“Lo! I am slain!” Idy-yaa called. The false princess thrashed its legs, then lay still.
“And I likewise!” said Cythylla.
Each cracked one eyelid open to watch Ghatanothoa.
It snatched up a pony, a goat, and a dragon visiting from afar, and plucked an eagle from the sky. Their screams lasted mere seconds. Skin, bones, and innards rained all round while claws clicked merrily.
Two false pony eyes opened wider.
Where four had been, Ghatanothoa set gently down one mad thing of wing, horn, hair, and scale. Then it reached for Moonmist and Butter Breeze, and their screams tore the night.
Idy-yaa stood up.
So did Cythylla.
They locked their eyes on Ghatanothoa and lowered their heads, and when their hornglow faded there was a column of oily smoke where the godling had stood.
They sniffed the air, stamped their hooves, and turned to face each other.
“Sister,” Cythylla said.
“Sister,” Idy-yaa replied.
And when the dazed ponies gathered around, these new sisters swore to them that no such monster would ever trouble them again.
Ooh, Lovecraft crossover. For those unfamiliar, Idh-yaa is the androgynous mate of Cthulhu while Cthylla is their youngest progeny. Oddly enough, Ghatanothoa is supposed to be their eldest. I’d contemplate this further, but I’m pretty sure that would end in me gibbering in Aklo, and that can wait until after I’m through reviewing this story.
A touching story of how ponies can charm even the most eldritch heart (or unknowable equivalent.) Still, the crossover element may alienate some people, and you use a lot of word space on translating the untranslatable. This will probably work a lot better whenthe stars are right you don’t have to worry about a word limit. I look forward to seeing what you make of it then.
A touching story of how ponies can charm even the most eldritch heart (or unknowable equivalent.) Still, the crossover element may alienate some people, and you use a lot of word space on translating the untranslatable. This will probably work a lot better when
Simply for the phrase, "Cythylla shrugged a hundred dark noodly shoulders," I give you a thumbs up, author. That gave me a good giggle.
Didn't recognise the complexities of the crossover as FoME describes, so a little bit was lost on me, but not much, surprisingly. I will agree that too many words are spent on the untranslatable, especially since I found the shorter, snappier translations much funnier.
It does feel to me like the tone changes from comedic to serious in a bit of a jarring manner, though. More words might help smooth the transition, but perhaps author should pick a tone and stick with it for consistency. Although maybe I wasn't supposed to find the end serious in the first place?
That said, I feel like this will be a strong contendet as far as I am concerned.
Didn't recognise the complexities of the crossover as FoME describes, so a little bit was lost on me, but not much, surprisingly. I will agree that too many words are spent on the untranslatable, especially since I found the shorter, snappier translations much funnier.
It does feel to me like the tone changes from comedic to serious in a bit of a jarring manner, though. More words might help smooth the transition, but perhaps author should pick a tone and stick with it for consistency. Although maybe I wasn't supposed to find the end serious in the first place?
That said, I feel like this will be a strong contendet as far as I am concerned.
This story is too perfect and holds too many legitimate feelings to justify the eye-rolling comedy you play around with in the beginning. There isn't even a need for cthulian references to tell this story, as you clearly have the ability to stand on your own originality.
You crapped on a gem. I'm very disappointed.
I need to stop reading fiction for a while.
You crapped on a gem. I'm very disappointed.
I need to stop reading fiction for a while.
Oh, man, this was not a good last choice to read before bed. I'm so utterly confused.
I more or less managed to follow the story, and it seemed rather competently told. I'm not all that familiar with the Lovecraftian mythos, and I suppose I didn't need to be as these could've just as easily been some other eldritch abominations and not changed the story one iota from my perspective. At any rate, I can only echo the sentiments above—the transition from comedic to serious/melancholy was too quick for my tastes. I think if the story had wholly committed to either comedy or seriousness it would've been stronger. As it stands, it fails to adequately do both in such a short space.
Still, the story itself was touching in a bizarre sort of way, and I can't say I didn't enjoy reading it. It just feels like a bit more could've been done to ease the execution.
I more or less managed to follow the story, and it seemed rather competently told. I'm not all that familiar with the Lovecraftian mythos, and I suppose I didn't need to be as these could've just as easily been some other eldritch abominations and not changed the story one iota from my perspective. At any rate, I can only echo the sentiments above—the transition from comedic to serious/melancholy was too quick for my tastes. I think if the story had wholly committed to either comedy or seriousness it would've been stronger. As it stands, it fails to adequately do both in such a short space.
Still, the story itself was touching in a bizarre sort of way, and I can't say I didn't enjoy reading it. It just feels like a bit more could've been done to ease the execution.
This was surprisingly effective to me.
I don't feel like complaining much about the transition, honestly; I think the outward transition, from them being abominations to being ponies, paired with the transition of the text, from being silly to being fairly serious, worked well enough together that it didn't throw me too hard? That being said, the whole 'let's translate the speech of the old ones' thing seemed like a really poor choice to make in such a limited format, although you did drag a few good jokes out of it.
Perhaps this would have been better if a bit more focus had been given to the internal changes. We get about one scene before the clincher to set it up, and although it worked alright for me, it might be smoother with a bit more.
Oh, and although I haven't read much Lovecraft, I was under the impression that the Lovecraftian abominations aren't really out to defile things. Aren't they mostly just inscrutable and dangerous to be around or something? I realize that doesn't work with what you're doing here, but it did seem a bit odd to me. Can a Lovecraftian abomination be out-of-character? Am I severely misunderstanding Lovecraft, or have I simply not read enough?
I don't feel like complaining much about the transition, honestly; I think the outward transition, from them being abominations to being ponies, paired with the transition of the text, from being silly to being fairly serious, worked well enough together that it didn't throw me too hard? That being said, the whole 'let's translate the speech of the old ones' thing seemed like a really poor choice to make in such a limited format, although you did drag a few good jokes out of it.
Perhaps this would have been better if a bit more focus had been given to the internal changes. We get about one scene before the clincher to set it up, and although it worked alright for me, it might be smoother with a bit more.
Oh, and although I haven't read much Lovecraft, I was under the impression that the Lovecraftian abominations aren't really out to defile things. Aren't they mostly just inscrutable and dangerous to be around or something? I realize that doesn't work with what you're doing here, but it did seem a bit odd to me. Can a Lovecraftian abomination be out-of-character? Am I severely misunderstanding Lovecraft, or have I simply not read enough?
This worked just fine for me. I shall concur with others that there really is no need for Lovecraft-specific monsters; Eldritch Horrors in general will work just fine.
But the idea of 'Celestia and Luna were once slavering Star-Beasts' is a fun one. I've seen a couple stories in the same ball park (Like where Celestia was a Windigo, for example), but this one original and good in its own way.
The 'Screams and blood' bit is a bit jarring (Although nice nod to the origin of Discord), so transitioning the comedy -> serious more smoothly would do well, and fit the journey of 'Eldritch Beings -> Actual Pony Princesses' the two once-Horrors go through.
But the idea of 'Celestia and Luna were once slavering Star-Beasts' is a fun one. I've seen a couple stories in the same ball park (Like where Celestia was a Windigo, for example), but this one original and good in its own way.
The 'Screams and blood' bit is a bit jarring (Although nice nod to the origin of Discord), so transitioning the comedy -> serious more smoothly would do well, and fit the journey of 'Eldritch Beings -> Actual Pony Princesses' the two once-Horrors go through.
I very much like stories that manage to take me by surprise with fair and interesting twists. That is to say, the switch from silly comedy to sincere origin story was an outstanding point of this piece to me.
Still I believe that while the comedy was beautifully silly, and that switch was just to my taste, the evolution of Cythylla and Idy-yaa into Celestia and Luna would have needed more room to really unfold its huge potential.
Still I believe that while the comedy was beautifully silly, and that switch was just to my taste, the evolution of Cythylla and Idy-yaa into Celestia and Luna would have needed more room to really unfold its huge potential.
I have difficulty rating this and will probably abstain. It was well written in the general sense, yet I had difficulty following which eldritch doohickey was doing what. Eventually I figured out that it was an origin story, but I never felt much of a connection to the characters as presented.
Maybe some of these issues are mine more than the story's, but I ultimately feel that the story isn't sure what it's trying to be. The comedy and eldritch-ness mix weirdly for me.
Please note that I might not be quite so raw if I had more time, or if the consensus opinion didn't otherwise seem to be positive.
Tier: Misaimed
Maybe some of these issues are mine more than the story's, but I ultimately feel that the story isn't sure what it's trying to be. The comedy and eldritch-ness mix weirdly for me.
Please note that I might not be quite so raw if I had more time, or if the consensus opinion didn't otherwise seem to be positive.
Tier: Misaimed
Best-Laid Plans — A+ — Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh Horizon wgah'nagl fhtagn. Grah'n 'ai zhro, Yoggoth shoggor hlirghoth wgah'noth Hastur mg 'bthnk h'athg gotha, y-sll'ha nashagg fm'latgh n'ghaog nnnnw nnnathg na'ai.
>>FanOfMostEverything I didn't check the mythos carefully. I looked at a couple of Wiki pages, grabbed some names, and said, "Eh, nobody but FOME will know the difference."
>>Astrarian
That was the big question about this piece: whether that transition would work. Some people said it did; more said it didn't. I don't know whether the claim that you can't do a transition like that is good advice, or dogma on a par with saying that a story must be a single action in a single place on a single day, as the neo-classicists did.
Readers, how do you know whether you're reacting to the story not working right, or to the story not matching your theories about how a story is supposed to work?
>>Not_A_Hat
You're correct. My abominations are OOC.
>>Astrarian
It does feel to me like the tone changes from comedic to serious in a bit of a jarring manner, though.
That was the big question about this piece: whether that transition would work. Some people said it did; more said it didn't. I don't know whether the claim that you can't do a transition like that is good advice, or dogma on a par with saying that a story must be a single action in a single place on a single day, as the neo-classicists did.
Readers, how do you know whether you're reacting to the story not working right, or to the story not matching your theories about how a story is supposed to work?
>>Not_A_Hat
Oh, and although I haven't read much Lovecraft, I was under the impression that the Lovecraftian abominations aren't really out to defile things. Aren't they mostly just inscrutable and dangerous to be around or something?
You're correct. My abominations are OOC.
>>Trick_Question
How would you change it?
>>georg AAAAH! AAAARGH! MY BRAAAIIN!
Sorry, did you say something?
You crapped on a gem. I'm very disappointed.
How would you change it?
>>georg AAAAH! AAAARGH! MY BRAAAIIN!
Sorry, did you say something?
>>Bad Horse
Bluntly, I'd take out the goofy humor. You shift from:
...and then morph it into a story about two parents who murder their only child (who they cared for more than a million years) and decide to become ponies because they've becomed too strongly tied to the mortal culture they're in after taking mates—which is absolutely amazing when you narrate it happening, leaving the conclusions to the reader rather than relying on telliness. Each one of those two things could make for a good story, but both of them together did not work for me, especially not in the space of a minific.
Of the two, I like the one that doesn't try to be funny much more than the one that does, even though they're both good in various ways. Your words actually made me identify with parents who murder their only beloved child, which is impressive writing. I don't really think of this as a Sad story, even though it's very Dark.
The other problem with the story (minor) is the shifting between "this is not translatable in any language" followed by direct translations. I suspect that was intended as humorous irony, but it seemed like sloppy lack of consistency in a couple of places. It's challenging to try to portray an incomprehensible alien mindset, and this kind of mutes the punch of the ending since "we can't understand why they do anything they do", even though we clearly can throughout the entire fic (nothing they do is truly senseless or cthonic).
Bluntly, I'd take out the goofy humor. You shift from:
To be smothered to death once in each of Tsathoggua’s armpits every day until the stars expire is too good for the salesthing that sold me a pony colony with no princess.
...and then morph it into a story about two parents who murder their only child (who they cared for more than a million years) and decide to become ponies because they've becomed too strongly tied to the mortal culture they're in after taking mates—which is absolutely amazing when you narrate it happening, leaving the conclusions to the reader rather than relying on telliness. Each one of those two things could make for a good story, but both of them together did not work for me, especially not in the space of a minific.
Of the two, I like the one that doesn't try to be funny much more than the one that does, even though they're both good in various ways. Your words actually made me identify with parents who murder their only beloved child, which is impressive writing. I don't really think of this as a Sad story, even though it's very Dark.
The other problem with the story (minor) is the shifting between "this is not translatable in any language" followed by direct translations. I suspect that was intended as humorous irony, but it seemed like sloppy lack of consistency in a couple of places. It's challenging to try to portray an incomprehensible alien mindset, and this kind of mutes the punch of the ending since "we can't understand why they do anything they do", even though we clearly can throughout the entire fic (nothing they do is truly senseless or cthonic).