ask RedEye

Anonymous asked: you know Redeye, a lot of people give you shit or gave you shit as it were, but whenever I read of your experiances I come across the knowlage that in your position I would do far worse and infact admire what you tried your damnest to do. Far undervalued is the ability to understand that some beings are monsters most of all when we realise that we are one of them or close enough to do what must be done, and some like you did better than that, and for that I applaud you. All I ever did was shoot.

I….think I understand what you said.

Thank you anyway.

ps.

To the one who somehow sent me a 9mm pistol and a shard of glass… you KNOW that the transformation made me rather tough and regenerating quickly? All I achieved is sinus ache, because that’s where the bullet is stuck, damned be my adamantium infused skull.

Anonymous asked: The Cake twins demonstrated that it's possible for a pegasus or unicorn foal to be born to earth pony parents so long as they had one of the relevant pony types as an ancestor. Your stable's leadership was pretty obvious in it's intentions towards anyone who wasn't an earth pony. Was this ever a problem? If it wasn't, what do you think you would have done if it was?

For Cake twins, there are other, less noble theories as to their origins. Some of the parties Pinkie organized were truly legendary after all… although it is true dormant genes may activate after a time and such offspring could happen.

From what I know, first, long-time earth pony families were chosen for the Stable. But that would still mean unicorns or pegasi occasionally might happen. That was taken care of in medical though. As you certainly know, every pipbuck monitors health status of its owner, and detecting pregnancy is one of quite basic functions.

The pipbucks were set to notify the owner and the medical staff (in case the owner neglects/avoids visit to the medical on their own), and a medical scan would quickly reveal unicorn or pegasus structure of the developing fetus.

A quick chemical abortion, a few days off work, birth control implant remains inactive so the mare can have another child, everything hush-hush, we didn’t talk about it. “An unfortunate, embarrassing but harmless accident”. That’s what we knew and how it was treated. It happened maybe two times in my lifetime, so the cases were very rare and - supposedly - without any lasting impact, which was one big fat lie.

Thing is, the birth control implants could be enabled or disabled remotely, and while no pairings were ever imposed, only “approved” pairs could have offspring. It was only later that one of Medical students at New Filly was writing a thesis on genetics and analyzed medical records from the Stable, that she discovered all offspring of such a mare would be considered “not viable” and the whole bloodline, along with all relatives marked as “suspicious”, getting the lowest priority in breeding permissions, often ending up childless. Meanwhile, “Pure” earth ponies would be allowed two or three children, and these matching certain standard would be given privileges if they choose the right mate.

That created a kind of caste system, pariahs of undesired, impure breed, and pure-breed elites, in roughly equal proportions. Officially all were equal but the security treated the elites differently, they’d get prioritized in distribution of limited goods, they’d get all the “better jobs” and so on. Some of them shunned the separation and would purposely seek “mates of lowest stance”, but the fate of these pairs… They’d live in misery, childless for years, then there would be a case of rape by a pony from the “elites”, all hushed and without consequences, and the birth control implant would be inactive precisely at the time of rape… and after giving birth, the life of such a pair would be made so miserable that the child would gladly tackle the chance to join the elites to escape the slum.

At least such was the plan and it supposedly worked with most such children, but in reality they carried dissent through their lives, and given opportunity to make a difference they all tackled it happily.

Me? If you want something extra to add to list of my crimes, I murdered my father. No, not my dad who showed me the outside. My true biological father. I was happy to see him sputter blood and thrash on the table as the poison took effect. The others I killed for Willow. But him… that was for my mother.

Anonymous asked: Red eye ten years have gone by and canterlot is clear and a new city now stands in its place. The ghouls you told me about after many months were freed and at great pain to myself I purged their minds of the madness that plagued many and unwarped their bodies as best I could ,and in doing so found my greatest weapon against the madness seeking to warp my mind. I found love and hope in the form of a very old and shunned ghoul a Ms. sparkle she is very special to me so I thank you Blazing Glory.

One problem less on my head. I’m glad to hear that, and I’m quite amazed you managed to un-wrap feral ghouls’ minds. Also, knowing Mrs. Star Sparkle is still alive warms my heart.

Anonymous asked: Got any fears? Like, you know, fear of spiders, snakes, water, small spaces, failure, those kinds of fears.

Currently? Of immortality. One day the terminal will fail, the walls will collapse and I will remain trapped here forever.

Back in my days? Of falling up, into the sky, but I think all the Stable Ponies have that

And snipers. Only being a sniper myself I realized how fragile life is, how easy it is to kill an unsuspecting pony. How utterly helpless you are against a competent sniper. You stand there chatting with somepony and then suddenly their head explodes. And you’re none the wiser, before you have a chance to locate the sniper they will be long gone and another day they will come for you. Even at the top of my career, with two alicorns flanking me and my skull infused with adamantium, I realized a shot from a good anti-materiel rifle two blocks away would end my life instantly. The dramatic wind carrying my cloak? I said it was arranged by the alicorns. What I didn’t say was it was especially erratic and encompassing a much wider area. A special anti-sniper counter-measure against being sniped from outskirts of the city, hundreds of unoccupied blocks. But if one hid in one of closer buildings, using zebra cloaking technology, with a good heavy rifle - I’d be dead. Every public appearance was a gamble.

Anonymous asked: You've made mention of your reputation being ruined by the previous DJ P0N3. But is your reputation not justly earned? You did poison and enslave your own stable, after all. Even if they were a stable full of jerks, why should you expect others to trust you enough to join you after such a betrayal?

I’m not sure if you properly understand the situation in the Stable shortly before our revolt.

Our work has made the Stable a formidable power. It could have grown into what New Fillydelphia has became, except ruled by Overmare’s ideals of Earth Pony supremacy. We had a position so defensible nothing short of Enclave or Unity could endanger it. Quill has developed some quite scary weapons. In our folly, working for the good of “our home” we gave the Overmare a power sufficient to stand behind the Earth Pony supremacy and make it work, turning lives of all unicorns, and later pegasi into nightmare.

And our small group already lost monopoly on travels outside. The Stable had contacts with other traders than Ditzy. It had contacts with slavers. Voices about purchasing unicorn slaves were so frequent it was possibly up to a half year until first would be delivered.

The hunger for goods and resources was growing. The supremacist party was dominant, the higher class. Our small group was still powerful thanks to Willow who held some respect of others and could sway some of these who’d come with us to the traders.

With her death there was nothing left in the way of the Stable poisoning the Wastelands with its ideas and starting a massive war between Earth Ponies and Unicorns that would keep the two races apart forever and Equestria doomed to never recover again.

There was nothing left in the way - except of us. And the Overmare was growing tired with my dissent. Some time more and she’d dispose of me and all who didn’t support the Way.

Any half-measures would lead to - at best - our exile, and soon, the war. The “government” had to be overthrown. We had little choice in the way.

Then we could of course take different options as to what to do when we’re in control.

Now you tell me what options we had at this point, and I’ll rebuke them one by one as not viable and leading to failure. We had a lot of options. Slavery was one of the least cruel that would work.

…of course DJ Pon3 didn’t know any of this. For him, we betrayed the Forest Mare, we were guilty of her death, and we enslaved “our innocent fellow stable dwellers” for no good reason at all. That’s what the wastelanders heard. That was the full extent of my reputation.

Do you still believe it was justly earned?

asksnakebitetourniquet asked: Ahh, regarding your reply to my latest answer to one of your questions. (Mouth full, I know.) The problem is that I am a medical pony, not a social expert, or even any type of leader. I am maybe naive because I constantly try to do better. I have many failings and I strive to fix many of my mistakes, one thing we might have in common and the reason to why I intend to go back home. One question does spring to mind; How would you have rebuilt Fillydelphia if slaves weren't an option?

Slowly.

That’s the simple answer that does not carry the full weight of impact this would have, so let me elaborate.

It would take more than one lifetime.

New Fillydelphia still would need to be a true terror on military scale. It would still wage wars on any power that could threaten it. Only after assuring its dominant position would it be able to reduce its military power, dissolve the structures focused on destruction that exhaust a major part of resources, become a country of peace. Redirecting the resources to actual rebuilding of the world would inspire. Give real, sustainable hope. Would encourage ponies to really work towards the future, towards a beautiful and peaceful Equestria.

That phase was essential to the success, and it required a leader willing to conduct it. A leader who one day leads troops to battle, and another day tells the same troops to forge swords into plows. I knew I could do this, because the goal of ending the Wastelands was superior for me, and you can’t end them by more fighting, you can only end them by building, by peace. But - until the peace can be assured, you must fight ruthlessly…

A leader who can agree the two conflicting viewpoints - lead troops ruthlessly against the enemy and then later just destroy his own army - and simultaneously be a competent leader able to do both - is a rare thing. Toss calculated the odds of finding such one,  sufficiently young, within our lifetimes. The odds were bad. Most likely the successor would betray the ideals. We’d create an eternal, dreaded military empire based on corrupted ideals and massive labor all consumed for sustaining its endless military power. That would hardly be any better than the Wastelands.

It had to be done within my lifetime. It had to be done fast. And fast meant slaves.

—-

ps. we didn’t plan for THIS proportion of slaves though. Raiders, bandits, prisoners of war - sure. But we intended to recruit independent farmers, scavengers, craftsponies to join us, offer them safe place and opportunity to build. Unfortunately, DJ Pon3’s campaign completely ruined our reputation before we even started. Very few would accept our offer, most would turn hostile. And there was only one place for these who were hostile in New Fillydelphia.

Anonymous asked: do you have any stories of how you and your friends followed what seems to be an equestrian tradition of a huricane of puns? failing that a commentary on said seeming tradition?

You wish you’d see Willow and Rootie working together in a lab.

“Did I miss something?” asks Willow.

“Nah”

Willow adds some lye.

“The mixture’s taking too long to boil, oxidize the flame a little.”

“ummm… how do I do that?”

“You turn the valve left, you reduce the flame. Turning it right reverses the process, right?”

“Yeah, oxidize, right.” Willow opens the gas valve some more. “Why don’t you pestle Scout some for a change?”

“Now just be careful of water.”

Willow adds a beaker of water to the mix. “Uh, smells nasty! Now if I spilled this on anypony, is there anything we could do?”

“Barium”.

“That’s the basic solution, I guess.” Willow says examining a test paper. “Where’s Bats?”

“In the attic, Reading the ring deuterium oxide.”

“It’s rather trite, isn’t it?”

“Anything heavier borium. To his credit, he carried all the heavy water upstairs for you.”

“I’d give him my sugar apple bombs but they all argon”

“It’s almost done.”

“Should I add something?”

“Nitrous oxide.”

“Stir?”

“Potassium.”

Willow stirs. “How does that look?” she looks critically at the pan.

“Poor.”

“This bad?”

“No.” Rootie holds a flask with a funnel. “Pour.”

…they could go on like that for hours.

tylertoon2-deactivated20130324 asked: What was the first step of plan after you killed off your stables racist leaders and took over? How did you acomplish it?

Phase 1 was the poison and the sedative, getting every pony in the Stable other than the nine ponies of the initial rebel team either asleep or dead. Your question is about is what we called Phase 2.

We took every single pony in the Stable, placed them in one room, dosed with enough sedative to keep them under as long as desired, then we’d pick one after another, give an injection of stimulant that neutralizes the sedative, another of truth serum, then took each for a session of Q&A, a short discussion to learn their mind on the ideas of pony supremacy, helping the outside, ending the Wastelands. Judging their reactions to revelations of our plans and what happened. They would be recruited as crew, enslaved, or promised freedom to take their possessions and leave after the end of phase 2.

Interestingly, the issue of leaving the Stable forever has proven to be more of an obstacle than accepting us killing all of the “top executives” or intention of forcing these who don’t comply to cooperate. We were somewhat… shocked at the number that cheered when they learned the Overmare was dead. It seems her “superpony breeding program” wasn’t as popular as she tried to make it seem.

Still, about half of the population decided this is insanity, that we are rogues and deserve all the worst, they expressed disgust at the thought of mixing with unicorns and so on. They got chained, received slave collars, and were put under again, awaiting departure.

Let me digress about this “will be released” group. Some decided that they understood us, that in our place they would probably do the same, they disagree with earth pony supremacy, but… they can’t justify murder and slavery even with such noble goals. That wasn’t a numerous group, not much above twenty ponies total… and before we reached Fillydelphia, it dwindled to two. The two, a couple, were allowed to go, seek their own fortune. I’ve never heard of them again. The rest got totally alienated by the attitude of the enslaved ones, and befriended the supporters. Seeing the Wastelands for what they were, they changed their minds and joined us.

Anyway, once sorting was finished, after two days of gathering supplies and dismantling essential equipment, the first caravan to Fillydelphia was formed. Five days of travel, relatively calm trip. In Fillydelphia we settled in a police HQ building a block away from the Sparkle~Cola factory. The building was very defensible and the old jailhouse came in handy. We adapted it for living and defense then proceeded to phase 3: Activating the caps production line.

continuing from that previous question…

How did you meet them? Did you had a rough relationship with them at the start but then you were all cool, or was it easy in the beginning?

Our meeting wasn’t anything super-special. Me and Dice were both in Maintenance, Dice with Reprocessors, me in Energy&Comms. My father was in the sick bay after some bad radroach bite infection, and some panels outside needed realignment, apparently timber wolves find solar panels an excellent place to dry their twigs, and the things go out of alignment under their weight. Going outside alone was a no-no, so I managed to “borrow” a pony from the other division, and they gave us the most insubordinate one. Dice was at first hesitant but once we got outside, he was totally ecstatic about the place. After the wave of nausea of course. Then we had a really close call when the timber wolves didn’t like us realigning their panels under their rumps… the post-nuclear Everfree breed of timber wolves is as big as a house, and ponies are simply too small for them as food - but if they are bored or angry, they can very well take that out on a pony.

The job was still not done and we wouldn’t dare to go there again. So we were assigned Bats from Security as an extra help.

We were afraid of Bats. As soon as he spotted the wolves, he climbed one, crawled somewhere under its crest and dug in the wood with a chainsaw as the beast mad from pain tried to shake him out or reach with his paw. Finally, Bats reached the wooden brain and killed the creature.

It turned out for the best, the rest of the wolves decided to leave the area permanently. And Bats wouldn’t agree to leave the corpse to rot. Dice had to bring a cart, as Bats was cutting the wolf’s head off, and I aligned the panels at last, then we somehow loaded the wolf head onto the cart and brought it in.

That’s when Quill and Doc both got their hooves on it. Self-growing structural supports for a section of the Stable that was about to be abandoned due to tectonic stress. Moisture draining roots that gave us enough water that we could switch the slowly faltering main water talisman off. The teeth supplied a century’s worth of excellent quality tools material for the maintenance. And the tongue was shaped into a really luxurious couch and placed in the atrium. The remainder was hanged over the Atrium opposite of Overmare’s window, as a trophy.

Just one trip where we took the initiative, and three long-standing problems looming over the Stable - tectonic stress, faltering water supply and panels getting misaligned - got solved. Too much of a boon to be ignored, especially that the Stable had hundreds of other long-standing problems… nothing urgent but things that would become a real pain in half a century or so. So we’d be tasked with exploration of the outside and seeking solutions to these problems.

That’s where Rootie came into the picture. None of the three of us would know a solution to a Stable’s problem if it bit us in the ass. Rootie, the pharmacist and the only “non-essential” member of the medical crew with enough physical fitness for the task, at recommendation of both Doc and Quill volunteered and was assigned as the “intellectual” for our team, a leader/scientist to choose the direction of search.

At first we were rather distrustful and distanced. Me and Dice were a matched pair and “friends at first sight”, but the egghead and the nutcase? Still, we explored immediate area around both exits from the Stable (top, near ruins of the Cathedral, and bottom, near the bottom of the gorge), and brought some junk for which Quill found some use.

That’s when Ditzy dropped her Guide on Dice’s head. That’s when she took us to New Appleloosa, and we got hammered at the bar. I got in a burt with some slaver. I was about to get my ass handed to me when Bats intervened. Then friends of the slaver arrived.

Bats wouldn’t win alone, but the three of us kept the others from surrounding him, getting on his back or shooting him. I think seven of them fell before the fight ended. But we all got hurt more or less. So we crawled to the local clinic - and the slavers too.

We were placed by an apprentice in a room neighboring to the slavers and told to wait for the healers to return. Dice overheard the slavers arguing whether to ambush us in the morning as soon as we exit the town, or at night, as soon as the healers give them their potions. And they definitely wanted to take us as slaves, talking the price they could get for Bats.

We had to act. We still could use Ditzy’s service directly from town but that would put her in danger. We were yet to be given the local specialty healing potions - the healers were away, somewhere in the town with some sick, but we had our own supply and Rootie told us to drink them, then he crawled somewhere outside and wouldn’t return for another half a hour… Then as he came back, we left and spent the night at the horribly overpriced hostel.

We prepared for departure in the morning - although obviously we had nowhere to go - it would take us weeks to find our way back to the Stable without Ditzy after all. Still, our preparations were enough for the healed slavers to rush ahead of us. Then Rootie began stalling. He visited the healers, bought a bunch of their healing potions then stashed a few and discarded the rest, taking care to spill all the contents. We ate a breakfast. We did some shopping. Stalling, sightseeing, talking - still packed and ready to depart any moment. Finally, we left shortly past noon.

After a turn of the road we saw the expected bars on the EFS. But not red. Just plain yellow.

The opponents were in no condition to fight. They were violently sick. Their wounds reopened, their bones broke where they had been grown together the night before. They suffered from incapacitating headache.

Rootie had sabotaged the potions.

We took everything of value, and as we were departing, Rootie gave the slavers a poisonous advice: “if any of you wants to afford healing back at the town, maybe selling companions into slavery would earn you enough money?” …we left the place, hearing a chaotic fight behind us.

Their property was more than enough to have Ditzy fly us back home and schedule another flight in a week. We had new samples, knowledge, tales, contacts… but more importantly, we became a team. No more distrust or reservations.

Anonymous asked: There's a rumor that a group of prewar scientists are going around, abducting people, and stealing their brains to use in experiments of a questionable moral nature. Have you heard anything about that?

Fundamental question: WHEN?

The problem with this Tumblrverse is that questions come from all kinds of times.

If this is between 10 and 20 years since founding of New Fillydelphia (and same distance from its end), it’s probably Doc’s detachment. For a time he experimented with pony brain driven robots. With very little success. I mean, they were certainly good at fighting and killing, except they usually wanted Doc dead… what a surprise. We had some serious talk, but from what I heard, he never really given up, but just scaled down to terminally ill instead of sending gryphons to kidnap ponies or obtain their brains.

Other than that, I heard of a group of raiders who had a thing about eating brains… and of course the rogue factory near Salt Lick City, where brainbots would capture ponies to build more brainbots. Other than that - sorry, no clue.

Anonymous asked you: Can you tell us more about your friends? What did you do in your free time with them? How did you meet them? Did they share your hobbies, even a little? Your philosophy of life? Did you had a rough relationship with them at the start but then you were all cool, or was it easy in the beginning? Who was your best friend ever? (Willow counts as your “really special pony”, by the way).

When it rains, it pours. Days without questions then one post with too many to answer at once. I’ve given up on trying to answer this in one post, I’ll try smaller chunks.

First off, while yes, Willow was definitely the “special somepony”, I never tried to even think who of the others would be my best friend. You may think, from our tales, that Bats would be the one “less important” but I replayed the scene in Everfree in my memory many, many times, and I’m totally sure, if it were Bats and not Dice, it would not change a thing. We were a team, and none was less important than others.

We shared some hobbies, but I don’t think we all shared any single one (unless you count doing the adventurer stuff a hobby) Like, Willow and Rootie were total nerds when it comes to chemistry. He taught her all the theory, and they’d argue for hours about whether given reaction is possible or what conditions to apply, or whether density of milk is higher than of water due to casein or lower due to fat… Bats and Dice shared love for weapons, but while Dice was a gun nut, Bats preferred melee. Me and Willow would be total suckers for pre-war literature. Rootie would sometimes chime in, but he was more into action fiction while the two of us loved poetry and slice-of-life stories - and he managed to convince Bats that there is no shame in reading - Bats became one dedicated fan of Daring Do. Doc and Quill would spend hours discussing technology, and Dice would join whenever that included weapons. Willow would exchange her thoughts on medicine with Doc. And I think we all liked Dice’s music…  Oh, and we all daydreamed about a better world, one without raiders, radiation and fighting.

As for my “philosophy of life”… did I even have one? Survive day to day. When possible, help others. Try to kill fewer than you save. Give them benefit of doubt. If you’re not completely sure they deserve death, shoot to stop, not to kill.

I think we all shared that.

And if you mean later years… yes, we all shared the idea: any price for ending the Wastelands. Apparently only Rootie disagreed after some time…

Anonymous asked: When did you decide to change your name to Red Eye and for what purpose?

Not really me - it was a “team effort”, at the planning phase before our “toxic revolt”.

Doc gave the idea of a cult icon to gather gullible followers who desire a power to unify them. A demigod for those who need one to worship, a ruler for those wishing to obey, a guide for these who want to do better.

We took directly from the concept of the Princesses. They were Goddesses to these who wanted a godly power, Princesses to these who desired a strong political power, and figures of authority for these merely looking for example.

Rootie didn’t even need to mention that it was me to be the icon, he just gave the look and everypony knew. You can quote my reaction then: “Am I the only one here who hates the idea?”

“Not exactly a princess material”, said Quill, “but it’s not a Princess we need. We need a figure to cause as much awe as dread. Too many equate fear and respect, and it will take another generation at the very least to change that mindset.”

“Now, for the name of our new icon”, Doc grumbled, “excuse me but ‘Scout’ isn’t too fear-inspiring.”

Then there was a brainstorming, only me not taking part in it, I liked my name, thankyouverymuch, until Coin Toss came up with “RedEye”. She sketched some of my most iconic appearances, the cape, the mane in the wind, some poses. I admit that was quite impressive although the cape was… taking it too far. But others loved the cape and so next day she’d sewn it from some old window curtains for me. A ridiculous piece of cloth but… iconic.

We created a God-General, and I was to be the actor to take the job full-time, for life.

The first appearance was after the revolt, as all were gathered outside the stable, most seeing the sky for the first time in their lives - and me, on a hill, with the sky for my background… I must say I made much stronger impression than I expected.

(now for the distinction: RedEye vs Red Eye… The first was original concept and I prefer it personally. But some scholars a couple years after founding the School felt quite peeved by this “incorrect” form and I had to change it to the two-word one in all official uses. I’d still slip the bundled form from time to time in personal mail and such. Nevertheless, “Scout” had to be eradicated from all uses thoroughly. We couldn’t allow such a non-badass name to slip, ever. A few unicorns went through all past records ever referencing me by name and changed all to Red Eye. Scout remained only in memories of ponies.)