Mockingbird

By That One Techpriest You Used To Know

• July 15, 2015

Age: 10 (various body parts are over 100 years old)

Gender: Female

Species: Non-Pony

Appearance: The only thing that one can say about the appearance of the undead known as Mockingbird is that she is monstrous. She has the superfical appearance of a pony- but only if you look past all of her 'extras' and the fact that she is at least three times the size of your average pony. She has three conjoined heads, two of which are hollow and do nothing but babble and mock those around her, or, alternatively, stare with dead silence, while the middle head is the sentience of Mockingjay herself, each with two or three horns on them. She has four pairs of legs, as well as three pairs of large wings, that she can use to fly (albeit she can't maneuver very well, she can carry roughly 1,500 lbs.), and a thick, serpentine tail. Her entire body is defaced with thick, ropy scars, various stitchings, and meld lines in her flesh, especially across her heads, throats, and lips, but, if you manage to look past that (which very, very few ponies do) you will see an innocent girl, forced into a body that she doesn't know is different or strange, who is shy of others because her father (who happens to be smaller than her) told her that they would want to kill her for being different. And so far, he's been right...

Cutie Mark: Her cutie mark is nonexistent- if she is at all capable of earning one, since she has a completely unique personality and not just a reanimated soul, she has not earned it yet.

Personality: Mockingbird's personality and voice suggest, if you only heard her and didn't see her, that you were talking to a shy, sweet girl of roughly 10 years of age- curious, but at the same time, timid. She loves daisies and insects, and sometimes can entertain herself for hours by looking for various butterflies and beetles around her, collecting them inside of a cavity in her left flank. She also enjoys puzzles- they are how she has learned of the Elements of Harmony, Celestia, and Luna. She would love to meet the princesses and the Element Bearers one day, and, in fact, that is her goal in life.

Backstory: It took him almost a full century to put her together- to come up with the concept and then the theories, coming up with the ideas, and then the raw materials he needed to put her together. She had almost been destroyed many times by adventurers coming to destroy him, but he was always able to protect her. This undead, not only would give him protection from the hunters, not only would it be his greatest work, the proof of dozens of his theories... it would give him a friend. A companion for all of these dark years. He grew tired of skeletons and zombies, of his new Hunters and his Iceguard... he wanted a companion he could call his own.<br /><br />As the ritual completed, the spell faded away, the lich stood up and stepped back, waiting for movement. Waiting for any sign of sentience, or even of existence. There was nothing. Maybe the sentience of this being was getting used to her new existence.<br /><br />First one minute... then five... then ten...<br /><br />At the thirty minute mark, the time from which would be the limit and he would have to destroy the being if it did not work, came and went. He still waited and waited. Hours, days, past.<br /><br />But then... movement? He sensed confusion flow through her mind, followed by fear. The being that stood before him was created- not from the remnants of the soul, but from some miracle of magic itself. It seemed that the extra horns on the being's head had acted as conductors, amplifying his magic to the point where it created her own sentience. Was it too far, perhaps, to call it a soul?<br /><br />He had poured in some of his own soul into the work- his blighted, corrupted soul was the catalyst that initiated this brand of creation. Giving this shell something that he never had. Something he lacked, even several hundred years ago, when he could still call himself 'living'.<br /><br />Love.<br /><br />He would usually share his work with other necromancers, let them know about his theories to gain prestige, power, and fear... but he would never tell them about this, for fear of what might happen. About his secret love, about his secret work. How, by some gift of the Princesses, the Greater Powers, and the Elements of Harmony working together in sync, the corrupted, blighted soul of a lich was able to produce a sliver of love for his work, which, when it echoed across the body of the new being he had created, it enabled this undead being to become something much, much more...<br /><br />So when the being asked, in a small, feminine mare's voice, "F...fa..ther..?"<br /><br />He responded, "My daughter..."