The
CONVERSION
►Bureau
Tales Of Los Pegasus
──────
8. The City In Blue
By Chatoyance
Inspired by a conversation with Tinandel
LAPD Chief of Police Ronald Chua was the last police officer in the entire world.
He was the only known police officer in two entire universes - Equestria did not have, nor need police. He had been officially designated a Living Planetary Cultural Heritage Treasure by the Worldgovernment just about two decades ago, after a large campaign had started on the Hypernet, the result of a single post by his great, great, great grandaughter, Amy Fong-Torres, who had decided he was wonderful after staying with him for a week.
The Worldgovernment had dispensed with ordinary police and detectives long ago. Even before the Great Collapse, the police of the world had gradually become militarized, folded into the existing military structures of the many nations that existed then. When the Austerity War broke out, the nations of the planet collapsed. The multi-national, global corporations swiftly joined together as one to deal with the angry multitudes, who were incensed to violence at the near total loss of all jobs, wealth, access to food and medicine, and the breakdown of both the social order and the infrastructure that supported it.
The beginnings of the nanotech revolution had come far before the war, and the new World Regularization Forces were clothed in flexible spun carbon nanostructure suits. The pitch-black webbing acted like an advanced non-Newtonian fluid - soft and yielding during normal movement, harder than diamond when impacted with sudden force. The material was invulnerable to all but a very select set of corrosive substances, and made the WRF impervious and unstoppable to the conventional weapons held by the impoverished masses.
When the planet had been properly set to order, the nations of the world had become irrelevant. The corporations, now one planetary corporation, had succeeded where Alexander and Napoleon and Gengis Khan had failed. They had not precisely set out to conquer the world, but had achieved total control purely by default. Thus arose the Worldgovernment, really the Worldcorporation, and its universal peacekeepers and enforcers, the Blackmesh, so named for their nanocarbon web armor.
But through it all, through the Great Collapse and the Last Harvest and the Austerity War, and the rise of the Worldgovernment, the LAPD Rampart Division survived. It survived because of Little Tokyo, J-Town, the famed ethnic Japanese-American district of Los Angeles. Insular, private, almost a world unto itself, it maintained alone, despite the changes flowing around it. When Japan and parts of Korea and China became uninhabitable, refugees from what was called the Japan Exclusion Zone swelled the population of J-Town. Little Tokyo became a fortress, and within it the last remnant of a civilian police force survived.
Ronald Chua had started as a Rookie during the Austerity War, and in the end, he became Chief, because he was the only officer left.
For decades he walked his beat, and because there were no judges nor juries anymore - the Worldgovernment had no interest in micromanaging the impossible masses - personally handling matters of justice for the common man. The Blackmesh could not be bothered with the day to day lives of the nineteen billion that arose all-too-rapidly when universal food and water had been guaranteed. Despite every effort to educate the billions, they bred and bred to the limit of the capacity of the planet and beyond. Justice came at the end of a board with a nail in it, or in local militias, such as they were, or roving gangs, or the fiat of walled communities, or not at all.
And in the vast walled community that was J-Town - not New Little Tokyo, not New-New-J-Town, for it had never stopped, not even for a moment, but had continued, a perennial flower in the garden of what was left of Los Angeles - the fiat was to keep the last policeman, forever, if possible.
Ronald was supported by the community. They had paid for every one of his Total Organ Replacements. They had raised the credits for his augments, his nightvision, his permatech hypernet link, his augmented hearing and strength. On his one-hundred and twentieth birthday, they had a huge celebration and provided him with a new uniform - traditional styling from before the Collapse, yet hidden within it was real blackmesh fiber, rendering him all but invulnerable. Ronald had put on his cap and smiled, and the crowd had cheered. He was a global treasure, but he was even more their treasure, he was the last policeman on earth. He united the former Japanese, Chinese and Korean refugees that now called J-Town their home. Everyone knew him, everyone respected him. Some had committed petty crimes just to have the honor of being arrested by him. It was an honor, and a matter of bragging even in polite circles, to have a framed record signed by Great Chief Chua.
Police Chief Chua walked a different beat for each day of his week. J-Town had grown very large and he could not cover it in a single day. He did not need to, crime was constant but fairly low compared to outside the walls of J-Town, though over the decades there had been some truly ghastly incidents. He had handled them with skill and finesse born of timeless patience and experience. Chua was known as a kind man, a perceptive man, but also a stern man, with a strong belief in the value of order, and of law - tempered by a fatherly wish to see genuine justice before rigid adherence to arbitrary rules.
Thus it was that he was more annoyed than shocked when he approached the crime scene at the New Yaohan Cafe at East Second and San Pedro.
There was quite a host of suspects and Those Involved, and all were either mum or overly eager to rat out someone other than themselves. They were all outsiders, let in through the gates of J-Town, lesser corporate with jobs in the global corporation, except for one, a pony, which no one had any idea how he had got in. There were many ponies now in J-Town, most of the population in fact, but this pony was different. He was clearly PER, Ponification for the Earth's Renewal, and he had been caught red-hoofed in the act.
The blood covered the tiles outside the rebuilt cafe. The citizens of J-Town did not call their reconstruction a favela, and truth be told it was more than that. They had worked hard to make the buildings lovely, the gardens perfect, even the roofs pretty to look upon. J-Town was the queen of all favelas, built with a dedication astonishing to contemplate in the post-Collapse world. So much blood, a crimson pool that reflected the pegasus-cleared sky.
In the blood were drenched clothing, cut and torn, and in the clothing, unconscious in the middle of a Conversion Dream, was a brand new pony. Barely alive, Alex Bennet-Addams, age 28, Caucasian, had been ponified almost beyond the moment of irreversible death. That was the work of the pegasus stallion PER agent Flitterwing, age 24 who had swooped in at the last moment to save the man, apparently.
On the ground was a handgun, a Taurus PT 92, a 9mm clone of the much more famous Beretta, many claimed it superior. It had been fired once, at relatively close range. Who had fired the weapon was a matter of some contention.
Brooklyn Bennett-Addams, human, age 32, African-Caucasian, claimed to be the wife of the newly ponified Alex, and she sat at a table in the cafe, fiddling with a package of Golden Heaven brand Nanotine Rods. She had one stuck in the side of her neck, just under the left ear, near her carotid. The small, dull black cylinder was half gone, attached to her tissues it gradually self-administered a dosage of nicotinic acids, tyrosine, L-phenylalanine, and other 'brain activators'. Nanotine Rods had replaced smoking, because of their greater effect and the lack of any byproducts such as second-hand smoke. Chief Chua felt they were every bit as disgusting though, and the small, reddish welts on neck or wrist were a dead giveaway of a Rod fiend.
"I demand the immediate arrest of that man!" Brooklyn had been going on for some time now about a thin Asian man, likely Korean, named David Dokgo, human, age 26. "That... that monster MURDERED my husband!" Chua noticed instantly that the woman did not seem to be genuinely upset. He had seen authentic grief in his hundred and fourty-six years, and this woman had none within her heart. She was lying, he was sure of it, and she was playing a game, of this he was also sure. It was going to be another soap opera, another drama performed at the expense of everyone for some selfish gain. It was going to be a wretched mess, and Police Chief Ronald Chua did not like wretched messes.
"Are you saying that Mr. Dokgo shot your husband, Mrs. Bennett-Addams? Is this your contention? Did you see him fire the weapon?" Pin them down. Just pin them down. They always fail when things get pinned down sufficiently, and then like a boil the situation is lanced and the often disgusting truth oozes out. Chua waited. If she said she could not be sure, then this was a clusterfuck. If she could be sure, then maybe, just maybe, this wouldn't be the pile of steaming turd Chua felt so sure it was.
"Well... officer... um..." The smell of feces was almost palpable, and it was everything Chua could do to avoid sighing. "... I thought I saw him shoot my husband, but I was returning from the ladies room, and... well, I am pretty darn sure of what I saw!"
Pretty darn sure. It was a clusterfuck.
David Dokgo was more specific about who had gunned down the former human Alex Bennett-Addams. "I saw the bastard blow him away! It was Christopher. Chris did it, that sick fuck, I saw it, he did it, and don't even listen to that stinking fish!" David was gay, and apparently involved with Alex Bennett-Addams. They had sex, he claimed, twice a week, and Alex had been planning to divorce his wife. She was wealthy, and with half of her credits under corporate law, he and Alex could move to South Africa to spend the next five or six years - however much was left for the world - in luxury. Together, until they died, bravely, as men in each other's arms. They were in love, David claimed. Chua had seen love, in all of its forms, gay, straight, and everything in between. David was not in love. But he was worried about losing something, and that something was almost always going to be money. It was always money.
Christopher Cox, human, age 30, Caucasian, very blond, was equally absolute in pointing the finger at David - the two hated each other, that was clear, and it was also genuine. After a hundred and fourty-six years, simple things like true hatred were childishly easy to spot. One of the two was likely the triggerman, but which would be a problem to find. Clusterfuck. "I am telling you, gendarme, that Mr. Doggy over there is the man you need to arrest. Those... people... faggots, excuse the term... are driven to insane acts, and it is no wonder that Brooklyn's husband was shot by the freak. I don't even know why I am being detained. I have corporate business to attend to!"
Cox was a piece of work, that was clear. It was so obvious he had a part in all of this - he was here, at the time of the shooting, waiting as if wanting to be questioned. It was like dealing with children, and considering the vast gap in age, Chua felt like he was in the middle of Murder For Kindergarteners... only it wasn't murder. The victim was right there, still alive, only as a pony. As soon as he had gained his wits, perhaps this could be solved with one simple question: who the hell shot you. Police Chief Chua could not wait for that moment.
Evelyn Esterházy, human, age 19, Caucasian, had a different tale to spin. She had been waiting, she said, because she knew of the plot. Brooklyn had shot her husband. He was divorcing her, and she would lose half of her fortune. Everything the others claimed was all lies, personal vendettas against each other. They were all consumed with jealousy and had used the event to destroy each other. Dokgo hated Cox, he always had, and Cox, he was a closet case, he had always wanted Alex for himself, despite what he said. And Brooklyn had 'stuff' on them both, they would never indict her. She alone knew the truth.
"How do you know these things, Miss Esterházy?" It was a simple question. Simple like a boot kicking over a rock with horrifying insects underneath.
"Because, I was Brooklyn's little toy! She needed a little pussy on the side, and I was her kitty. I loved her! She dropped me like an old sock... but not before I ended up caught in her nasty little web. She did it, she manipulates everyone and everything around her! Put the pressure on those two pricks, they'll cave. Men always do. Give 'em the torture treatment, hear the truth for yourself!" Esterházy licked her lips at this. She wanted to see men suffer. Chua had seen her kind too, over the many years. Angry lesbians unable to separate patriarchy from the males also caught within it. She definitely had it in for Brooklyn, though. Jealousy and spite were more childish, easy to spot emotions. Clusterfuck Soap Opera.
Police Chief Ronald Chua did finally sigh. He took off his cap and ran his fingers up and over his close-cropped, dark gray hair. It had started out to be such a nice day.
Chua had regular deputies he used, they were already helping out, keeping the people at bay, warning the newfoal citizens to not even come near - ponies didn't do well with blood and awful stuff, and this was both physically and emotionally awful - and they kept the suspects in place. No one argues with well built Samoans, and Tasi, Sefo, Aumavae and Mapu - not to mention Big Siliva alone, well. The suspects were going nowhere unless the police said so, which is to say, Chua said so.
Alex Bennett-Addams the newfoal was still not conscious. Chua sat down to check his Flatpad notes, but also to watch, from the corner of his vision, what the clusterfuck did when they thought he was otherwise engaged. Brooklyn Bennett-Addams scraped the last of her Rod from her neck and stuck another in the very same spot. It adhered instantly, dissolving itself at a measured rate through her skin and fat and muscles into her blood. Nasty things.
David Dokgo alternated between staring at the unconscious newfoal Alex and glaring back at Mr. Cox. Christopher Cox, for his part, kept weaponized eyes only on David, as if trying to stare him to death. But wait... ah! A furtive glance at the missus, at Alex's wife Brooklyn. It was only a glance, but the look was old as time itself. The two were in cahoots somehow, and in his ancient, augmented bones, Chua would not have been at all surprised to find the two were secret lovers.
Oh what a mess. He considered his first impressions. Over the decades, he had come to trust his initial assessments, his gut, and it had, with experience, become ever accurate. What then was going on? The wife had money, that was likely the focus and motivation behind everything. David had been probably servicing the former human Alex Bennett-Addams in exchange for financial support, he doubtless was the driving force behind the divorce. Cox was almost certainly bisexual, but closeted, the girl, Esterházy was half right about him. But there was clearly something going on between Cox and Missus Alex Bennett-Addams, and Chief Chua could think of a half a dozen ways that could play out.
Total, utter, clusterfuck.
Worse, with no judge, no jury, and the Blackmesh uninterested, it was entirely up to him, Police Chief Ronald Chua of J-Town, to work it all out, figure out who did what, and meet appropriate justice as he alone saw fit. He thought briefly of just having them all shot. Legally, he could do it. The Worldgovernment would not care, and the only local law was himself. Damn, but that would just be so damn nice. Kill 'em all and let God sort them out. That was still a popular phrase, each new generation thinking they were clever to say it. Idiots the lot of them. Chua's head began to ache.
Police Chief Ronald Chua needed a break. There was still one involved individual that he hadn't talked to. The pegasus. The PER agent. That might be worth a laugh. At least the ponies were usually fairly straightforward. No big dramas with the ponies. They had a purpose, they drove towards it, and they were not often shy about talking openly about it. Yeah, the pony. It would be refreshing, and despite the fact the pony was a PER terrorist, comparatively clean.
The foodlocker had no windows, and only one door. It had once been a refrigerated locker, but that was long ago, when there was more than two hours of electricity per day in the city. Everyone dealt in fresh items now, which were easy to come by thanks to the conversion of the vast majority of the population to Equestrian form. The earthponies had turned Los Angeles - they called it Los Pegasus now, Chua felt he would never get used to that - from a gray on gray urban sprawl into a lush green cornucopia of fresh produce grown in minutes or hours. No one bothered with the guaranteed government ration any longer, and there was no need for refrigeration in a city where a new crop could be created in less than an hour.
Tasi and Sefo had put the PER pony in the foodlocker, which, living up to its name, could be locked. There was a hole for air to get in, where the old refrigeration system used to be, but it was far too small to be used for escape. Outside, on the prep-table, they had set the saddlebags the newfoal agent had worn. Chua checked them, they contained a wide assortment of weaponized ponification devices.
With his white gloves on, Chua examined the devices. There were eggs, the four-ounce neoplastic ovoids that could be tossed with a flick of a pony head, or used with devastating accuracy in clusters by unicorns. Chua found a selection of vial-like cylinders, presumably also for throwing. All of these were designed to impact and break, covering a single target in more than sufficient serum to ponify them.
Also in the saddlebags were several gas grenades - a recent advance had permitted 'potion' to be distributed in an effectively aerosolized form. The reality was more complex than merely misting serum, some kind of rapid nanostructed metamaterial created a false liquid, a sort of gas-like nanofoam that acted like a fluidic mass that did not dissipate for hours. He had heard it described as a stable cloud that filled every corner yet would not evaporate. It could be scooped, as though it were heavy soap suds. After a programmed time, the nanofoam self-destructed, collapsing to a slick on the floor. It was very effective at converting large numbers of humans relatively safely, the humans falling under the calibrated anesthetic while being exposed to sufficient serum.
Flitterwing, the PER pegasus, had clearly come with the intent of mass conversion of the few remaining humans in J-Town, but had been caught because he had stopped to save the life of the shooting victim. Curious villains, these PER.
Chief Chua straighted his uniform and his cap. He glanced at his white gloves, still spotless. Then he headed to the foodlocker. He rapped his knuckles sharply on the metal door three times, then opened the self-locking door.
Sitting on the floor, in the back, was the PER stallion, Flitterwing. He had only given a short statement to Chua's deputies - his name, that he was PER, that he had saved the life of the injured man. He had given up without a fight, which was a pleasant surprise - that meant he wasn't one of the twenty or so 'special' ponies that led the PER, the genetically altered ones that retained a human mind, and the human capacity for violence and even sociopathy.
"Hello, son." Chua tried to take a fatherly approach whenever possible, and it seemed appropriate here as the young stallion was sitting legs splayed out like a clumsy foal, sucking on a candied carrot. He'd apparently been taking advantage of the place he had been confined, and Chua couldn't really blame him. He was surrounded by tasty treats, the temptation would be too much for anyone, really. "Would you be willing to talk to me?"
The pegasus looked up at him with guileless pony eyes. "Sure! It's kind of lonely in here." Flitterwing gobbled the candy carrot and smiled. He seemed nice enough for someone classed as a criminal in two universes.
"Flitterwing, is it?" Chua did not doubt his deputies, but it was a simple way to put the subject at ease.
"Yes sir! Just Flitterwing, I didn't take a last name. No real need, unless you are part of a clan or something, or so I understand. Once I learned the basics, I just couldn't stop flitting about, I'd even hover in the halls. So... Flitterwing." He smiled again. "Want a candy carrot? They're really good!" He nodded to the box he was sprawled next to.
Chua shook his head, but smiled back. He liked the talkative ones. Not the ones that blathered, or tried to hide behind a screen of babble, no the genuinely open ones, the ones that just couldn't help themselves because they were just that way. It made everything so much easier.
A few things had already become clear, just from this short exchange to the old policeman. Flitterwing must have been converted fairly recently, fresh newfoals tend to talk about their time at the bureau a great deal because it is still new and exciting to them. They like to explain their names and talk about why they converted.
That meant that this was probably Flitterwing's first mission - or close to it - for the PER. He wouldn't have had much time to do anything if he had only recently been converted. He might have been recruited only a week or two ago. He certainly hadn't been trained not to talk to his captors. Either the PER was more disorganized than everyone imagined, or this poor kid was just raw meat to throw at the world.
"You saved a man's life today, at your own personal risk. Did you expect to be caught?" Chua studied the stallions eyes and body language. He had become familiar with the ways of ponies now. Most of J-Town was ponies, now.
"Um..." The pegasus looked down at his forehooves. "I... I kind of didn't give it any real thought. He was hurt!" Flitterwing's eyes went wide with the memory as he looked suddenly up at the Chief. "He was hurt really, really bad! It didn't even look like he was breathing, and there was blood... blood everywhere... and... and..." The pony's eyes were very watery now, and a tear was beginning to trace a trail down the stallion's cheek. The increased compassion and empathy made the sight of violence all but intolerable to Newfoals. To natives too, probably.
"There, there, son, he's alright now. I checked him, he's still dreaming, but he'll be fine. A unicorn, but fine. Really." The gentle words seemed to relieve the young pegasus, and he gradually managed a small smile. "Can you tell me what you were doing in J-Town today son?" The answer was obvious, but Chua wanted to hear how the fellow would describe things.
"I was here to save everypony, before the Barrier comes. It's coming, you know, less than a month away! There's still so many who haven't converted yet... like you! And you have to, because when the Barrier comes, when Equestria gets here, if you haven't converted..."
Chua interrupted the excited pegasus. "Or moved away."
"...huh?"
Chua repeated himself. "Or moved away."
The pegasus stallion seemed almost confused by the statement. He appeared to be pondering it, as though the very concept had never been a part of his understanding. "I... I guess that's a possibility. Though it wouldn't accomplish much. I mean, maybe a few more years, five, six at the most... I hadn't...."
"So you were here to convert any humans you could find then?"
The stallion snapped back to reality. "Yes. Yes sir." He had said the words as if it were the most matter of fact thing in the world.
"Have you been converting humans a long time?" Chua knew what the answer must be, but he could be wrong.
"No sir, this was only my third mission. It's my first solo mission. I just did support on the first two. I figured it would be easy, and it probably would have been, if... if I hadn't gotten caught immediately." The stallion's ears drooped and his head hung. "I completely failed J-Town."
Interesting. It was always interesting how ponies put things, Chua thought. A human would be likely to say something along the lines of 'if that guy hadn't gotten shot' or 'if I'd just ignored that guy'. The first found blame for failure, the second covertly demanded additional praise for bothering to do the right thing. Ponies always tried to do the right thing, they didn't expect to be praised for it. It was just what they did. And they didn't need a scapegoat for their own failures. They'd reject putting false blame on another in any case, because they'd feel so much empathy that it would be like blaming themselves anyway. Ponies were refreshing to interrogate.
"I'm sorry, sir. I'm really glad I managed to save the guy that got... that was hurt, but I'm sorry I failed you, and everypony." The stallion was deeply sad.
"Failed... us? In what way?" Chua was taken aback.
"All the unconverted humans, all the nice people are going to die now, because I failed!" The stallion was almost wailing. "If they were going to convert, they would have by now, I mean, less than a month! And there's so many left, and a lot can't afford to travel, and it's all hopeless now because I failed! I failed you all, and now you're going to... going to..." The boy had a lot of tears in him, but interestingly, not for himself.
"Son, son... listen... come on..." Chua had come closer, and gave a few comforting pats on the stallion's poll with his white gloved hand. "It's their choice. The Bureau is throwing that big emergency conversion thing right now, and I know for a fact a lot of the remaining humans here intend to go later this week. Others intend to move back east, so you can relax. Nobody is in any danger, not even now."
"But they are!" The pegasus looked up with his tear-streaked face. "Stormcloud says that a lot of humans just ignore things until it's too late, and the loss of even one life is too much!"
"Stormcloud?"
"He's the head of our barony. Baron Stormcloud of the Los Pegasus Crusade. We... oh... I'm not supposed to talk about all of that. I'm really sorry, sir, but... I promised, and I always keep my promises!" Flitterwing hung his head again, at the realization that he had already said too much, if only by a little. "Or at least I really, really try! Oh... fooey."
Chief Chua had to stifle a laugh at that. 'Fooey'. Even when he was growing up, ten year olds would regularly use 'fuck', and here was a twenty-something swearing, and his word of choice was 'fooey'. He'd asked a newly converted member of the Fuschidas about such language. Apparently a lot of profanity was concerned with violent, angry, or negative matters, or used positive things in negative ways, implying they were somehow wrong. There were all kinds of connections to violence in most profanity, and this made ponies feel uncomfortable or even sad. Human swearing had no payoff for them.
Big Siliva had once said that conversion turned everyone into Quakers. He probably wasn't far wrong.
"Ok, son, I won't ask any more questions about your PER background, alright?" It wasn't really relevant anyway.
"Oh, thank you! You're really nice, and I don't want you to be mad at me." He was a sweet kid. Misguided, but sweet.
"Here's the big question, and it would be a really big help to me if you could answer it. Did you see who shot the man today?" Chua noted that Flitterwing jerked ever so faintly at the word 'shot'. The ponies really were incredibly empathic.
"No sir. I'm sorry, but... I heard the... loud sound... and I knew what it was. I was on a roof, getting ready to, well, you know, when there was this 'BANG', like a firecracker, but I knew what it was, and so I went to look, and I saw the man on the ground, and he was... he moved a little, but then he stopped moving and all this blood kept coming out, more and more and..." The stallion was trembling now. It couldn't have been a pretty sight, that's for sure.
"Do you know any of the humans involved, or have any other connection to this situation at all? Tell me the honest truth."
"I... I wouldn't lie to you, sir! I mean, I won't talk... more... about the stuff I promised not to talk about, but I won't lie. It... it would be wrong, and it would impede your investigation and..." Chua interrupted the pony again. The kid had been pretty shaken by today's little... event. "Sorry, sorry. No, sir, I don't know any of those humans. I'm not sure I would want to know them, really. They didn't seem very nice."
Truer words had seldom been spoken. Chua sighed. It might have been so simple, if only the kid had seen the shooting. It could have been any one of those freaks out there.
"Thank you son, you've been very helpful. Don't eat too much of the candy - I don't think they'd appreciate you being sick in here, alright?" Chua stood up, preparing himself to face endless questioning of a bunch of people who pretty obviously were all connected somehow, and in ways that were not nice. He'd already built up a likely set of connections, just from his long experience.
The daylight was bright, and he shielded his eyes with a gloved hand as he studied the suspects. The victim, Alex, was awake and marveling at his new hooves, swishing his tail and testing his new ears. He seemed happy at least. They always were, right after conversion, all smiles and laughter, wide eyed like children. Innocent, happy. Chua wished he could feel even a tenth as happy. When constabulary duty's to be done, to be done, A policeman's lot is not a happy one. Chua sighed yet again, under the hot sun.
Alex, the victim, was almost certainly involved sexually with David, and was probably supporting him. David wanted financial security, so he wanted Alex to divorce his wife Brooklyn, and it was clear she didn't want that because she'd lose half of her wealth. That Cox guy... he was certain that there was something between him and Brooklyn, and the Esterházy girl was a jealous and spiteful little thing. Any one of them could have pulled the trigger. Brooklyn because she didn't want to lose half her fortune, Cox because he was in with Brooklyn and they wanted to be together, Esterházy because she was jealous and spiteful... hell, even David could have shot his own mealticket, if Alex had refused him brutally enough.
It would take days to worm the truth out of them. And who really cared? Seriously, what was the point? The Worldgovernment didn't give a crap, in a month the entire city would be gone... who really cared at this point?
What was even the point?
Police Chief Ronald Chua, human, age 146, Chinese, stared at his spotless white gloves. Underneath the fibers, his old hands ached, even with the rejuvenation treatments and the anagathics and the implants. Sour bones. That's what his Grandmother had said. She had sour bones. Oh, to have sweet ones again.
The Cox man was in his face now, blond and impatient. "I demand to be released from this farce! I am an important employee of the WORLD CORPORATION! I can't be held in this run-down bandit stronghold filled with squinty-eyed... ah... you know what I mean. Beside the point. You WILL let me leave this INSTANT or I swear I will hold you personally..."
Somehow the wife, Brooklyn had darted away from Mapu's watchful eye, and had joined Cox, competing with him for volume. "I WANT THAT DOGFUCKER MAN ARRESTED FOR THE MURDER OF MY HUSBAND!"
In the distance, Alex Bennet-Addams, now a Newfoal, raised the argument that he was right there, very much alive. No one seemed to care.
"My name is not DOGFUCKER, it's DOKGO - that's DEE OH KAY GEE OH you lousy, stinking bitch of an excuse for a beard!" David Dokgo did not seem at all worried about Alex, any more than was Brooklyn, Alex's wife.
Esterházy was struggling against Mapu, who had run and grabbed her when he realized what was happening. The rest of Chua's deputies began pulling the enraged suspects away from the Chief, apologizing profusely for not being more alert.
"Just one moment." The words were quiet, but it was enough for his deputies. Big Siliva made everyone shut the hell up. Nobody messes with Big Siliva. Nobody.
"Just one moment." Chief Chua repeated. "I'll be right back. Aumavae, Tasi?"
The two massive men ran up.
"I think this is a community matter. Would you round up everyone... no, wait. Murder isn't a matter for ponies. Only round up the humans left in the community. Could you do that for me?"
Aumavae and Tasi looked at each other. A trial. Of course. Chief Chua was going to have a proper trial. Ponies were useless for human trials. They were nothing but forgiveness and compassion, and that was fine in a world without violent crime. But in the real world, the human world, a jury needed to have the edge required to deal with real issues, with serious issues, with human issues.
Issues like attempted murder and conspiracy.
Ronald Chua walked back into the cafe, into the shade, back into the kitchen. He thought over his many, many long years of service as a policeman, the last policeman in all the world. All the cases. There were so many petty ones, of course, but this was Los Angeles, or at least it used to be. In Los Angeles, the crimes were as big as the movies that once were made here.
Crimes of passion, of terror, of greed. Violent nightmares of butchery and depravity. Men and women turning on each other over the most trivial of reasons, Chua had seen it all. He had broken up snuff holography rings, slavery rings, blackmail and murder, serial killers, rooftop snipers, and wife slashers. The gang of religious nutballs that melted the faces of women with acid, the cult that poisoned an entire school system, or just the occasional person who, for reasons they themselves could not understand, just one day picked up a gun or a knife or a board and just killed a stranger. Just because. Just because.
A policeman's lot is not a happy one. Chua had always loved Gilbert and Sullivan. They'd survive Equestria. Ponies would be performing Gilbert and Sullivan, thousands of years from now. The Worldgovernment had been busy, transferring the works of Man, if approved by the princess Luna, to blank Equestrian books that would survive the Barrier. He had recently learned that Gilbert and Sullivan had passed approval. They had made it to Equestria, those songs, those plays, they were in a library there right now, somewhere. Many libraries. Gilbert and Sullivan would live forever now. Forever in an eternal land, even when the Earth's former sun had gone dark, even when all the stars had faded into endless night, some future pony would just be discovering, for the first time, The Pirates Of Penzance.
The locker opened easily to human hands. Ponies had to work a little harder, so there was a string now that pulled the catch. A small convenience for the majority population forced to work with objects not designed for them.
Chua stood there, his hand on the locker door where Flitterwing sat, and doubtless was eating too much candy. Ponies had an insatiable sweet tooth.
"Chief?"
It was Aumavae. How long had he stood there, hand on the handle of the foodlocker, daydreaming about Gilbert and Sullivan, about good things from his long, long past?
"Yes?" Chua did not move, it would look silly to startle now.
"Everybody's here. Collected, I mean. Quite a little crowd. They're all waiting."
Chua thought for a moment. "Go out and make sure they are sitting and comfortable. I will be right there. I just need to collect a few things, alright?"
"Yes sir!" Aumavae left, excited at the prospect of a proper trial. Maybe there would even be an old fashioned hanging!
The old policeman thought of the approaching Barrier, of Equestria, of what ponies were. He thought of how they acted toward each other, how they spoke, how they treated the world around them. He thought of how there was no Equestrian word for 'police'. Sefo had told him that. They didn't even have the concept of an enforcer. They just didn't need such things.
Murder and blood and butchery and theft and greed and endless angry faces screaming at each other. A policeman's lot is not a happy one.
Police Chief Chua released the catch and opened the locker door. Flitterwing was, as expected, stuffing his face with candied carrots. He looked ashamed as he swallowed. "I'm... I'm sorry! You told me to be careful, but I've eaten almost all of them. I got carried away! I'm sorry!" And he really, genuinely was. It was obvious and clear. Even a rookie could have seen it.
"It's all right, son. Would you come here, please?" Chua smiled warmly.
Flitterwing got up on his legs and trotted immediately to stand in front of Chua. He made no effort to run past him to freedom. Of course he wouldn't. Ponies.
"Are you willing to help an officer of the law, duly appointed by the former Los Angeles Police Department and the Worldgovernment of Earth to maintain peace and dispense justice howsoever he deems fit?" The Worldgovernment had actually given him a plaque on his hundred and twentieth birthday enshrining those very words into planetary law.
"Yes sir?" The pegasus looked confused, but willing.
"Then I now officially make you my one and only deputy, with all legal rights and privileges and constabulary duties as defined by me, the only extant Chief of Police in the world. Congratulations, officer Flitterwing!"
"Yes SIR!" Flitterwing stood proud and tall. Chua took off his cap and set it firmly on the pegasus' large head. It might stay on.
"We do not have much time, deputy Flitterwing. Your first duty is to show me how all the things in your saddlebags work, to make sure I understand them, especially the gas grenades." Chua smiled, his face the face of a man ready to go home.
The pegasus flicked his tail, uncertain. "Sir?"
"Do you.... do you like Gilbert and Sullivan?"
I saw what you did there. Interesting choice of names. Victim "A" with suspects "B", "C", "D" and "E".
Bravo, well done. I enjoyed the wit you displayed; interesting ending as well.
Personally, I would have shot everyone involved and then convert everyone else. But I'm not one you would call a "model citizen" so the decision probably would have never been left to me.
Damn, I really wanted to hear what the vic had to say.
…Out of that curiosity, what would he have had to say, anyhow?
Alternate title: Ocho: The City In Clusterfuck.
If I had a fifth of the world and character building skill you have, my writing would be infinitely better.
945231
One fifth of infinity is still infinity. Believe in yourself, and let your own genius shine. Every effort will give you experience... and experience is how you go up levels!
hmm, alternative title: when good cops go pastel
WooT! Another update
Though I'm not quite upto date yet, what with work getting in the way, I've really enjoyed this series so far. There's a nice divercity of stories playing out, each exploring a layre the city as the change takes ahold. Quite facinating!
Once I've read the lot up to date I'll post some deaper thoughts on the matter, but until then keep up the wonderful work hun
Ocho: The City in Copper
...Yeah, I'm sorry about that one. Still, got something of a Sam Vimes vibe from Chua. Very nice. I would've liked to have known who done do'd it, but I realize that that's ultimately immaterial. The point of the story wasn't who shot Liberty Valence... er, Alex Bennet-Adams. The point was how the last police officer chose to protect and serve the people: Ponify 'em all and let the Princesses sort 'em out.
As always, exquisitely done.
945335 Point of interest, that sounds like an inspirational poster. And it worked! Thanks Chatoyance!
Your heart isn't in labeling PER a terrorist organization, is it, Chat? They're the good guys, aren't they? You've consistently painted them as sympathetic, and done a very good job of it. For the most part, the characters who make up the PER are very likeable. I like Flitterwing, for example. He is an adorable character. He even worked his magic on Chua, though as extensively world-weary as Chua was, he probably didn't need much prodding.
Flitterwing illustrates the sympathy of the PER perfectly, because while ponies are extremely averse to the idea of terrorism, some of them still see fit to join the PER, Equestrian and newfoal alike, no tampered potion needed. Terrorism and ponification just don't equate in the pony mind. Ponies want to help. Ponifying humans helps them. How is that terrorism? Why's it get Celestia's crown in a crease? Nopony has ever been worse off as a direct result of ponification*! Sure, they may have suffered because of what humans do as a result, but the problem there is really that those humans, too, aren't ponies yet.
Open and shut, c'mon, Your Highness, let's play some hardball. Better to ask forgiveness than permission, but you're a motherbucking goddess; you don't have to ask for either! Freedom? Pfft! Kids are free to chase balls into busy streets sometimes, but that doesn't mean letting them is a good idea! You can be Tia, the Fun Aunt to Visit, after Earth is gone and everypony's alive enough to form the RADwCNS, but right now what these humans need is a little Mother Knows Best.
*okay, that one guy in 27 Ounces, but fuck him, he doesn't count because he was bad
946879
I like playing, occasionally in my stories, with the notion that Luna thinks Tia is a big fuddy-duddy for not just secretly supporting the PER. They are, after all, furthering her agenda, even if they are breaking her illusion of plausible denial. And Tia needs her plausible denial - even if only for herself.
In my mind, Tia is driven to keep her immortal promise, and save the apes, but she really doesn't want to, yet she's stuck by her own action and choice. No matter what, taking in all these humans - far more than she ever intended or realized - is going to change and mess up her neat little order, and she hates anything that disturbs order. In my mind, Tia is a stickler for order, because she suffered so under Discord.
But a promise is a promise, and... keeping a promise is a form of order. Everything is propriety to Celestia. So she is forced by the same stick up her ass to reject the PER, though I think she is starting to just give up and shrug toward the end, because she can't stop them all, and because yes, they are so damn, damn earnest and sincere (well the regular ones, not the twenty or so altered leaders who are real pieces of work), and because Luna keeps chiding her when she tries to be stern about the whole thing.
Personally, I think Luna is cheering the PER on. I always picture Luna as being the practical one, the 'if it works, go with it' type. A little looser, a little more capable of humor, a little closer to the common soul. I think Luna kind of actually likes the humans. They bring change, but Luna in my mind is a little more open to that. I think she finds Newfoals interesting and a positive addition to Equestria. And the PER - well that's just humans-as-ponies expressing their human-ness, and the fact they are supporting Celestia's goals while rebelling against her rule... I just think Luna finds that hilarious. And kind of relateable.
And as for me, personally, I can't see the PER as true villains. I am too practical. The world is ending, humans squandered space, they have no other option, and they are stubborn and often just plain foolish and contentious... as they always have been, which is why the planet is crapped up even in our time period.
I see the PER as people on the deck of the Titanic, tossing rebellious children into lifeboats, because the little bastards just don't grasp that the ship is going down, and that ice-water kills in minutes. It's hard for me to hate, or cast completely as villains, people saving children from a destruction they are just too immature to comprehend.
You see, I see humanity, as a species, as a baby in a cradle. I don't hate humanity, but I do - not - think humanity is the least bit grown up. All mankind is a baby playing with a handgun, and unless that baby grows up damn fast, luck prevents the safety from being clicked by accident, or a parent steps in... it won't end well.
This premise seems... familiar, even if the execution is not.
947212
Thanks for your response! I love seeing insight into people's thought processes/headcanon.
I agree with your assessment of Luna and how she'd better appreciate the bit of grit that starts the pearl. Equestria, for all its idyllic storybook perfection, would get boring, especially being immortal. Humans are interesting, and rough, and strong-willed, and thrive in conflict. She'd love to see the effects Equestria has on them, and vice versa.
I think a story exploring Luna possibly undermining Celestia's authority re: forced ponification would be an interesting ride. Either secretly supplying PER-bound potion across the Barrier via her personal guard (which I've painted as kind of an Equestrian black-ops team) or stealing out incognito to Earth now and again to get some jollies ponifying people herself (she'd call it "painting the town purple," I'm sure), or something to those effects. The lack of a united front on the "human issue" would also introduce some interesting internal conflicts on the Equestrian side of things. Not the least of these would be calling into question whether Luna truly is an equal ruler whose stint as Nightmare Moon was misguided, or if she's just the little sister after all, one who's expected to respect Celestia's wishes as though she were just another subject. There's also the question of utilitarian "ponify-em-all" versus principled "you-must-choose" ethics, but that's nerdy book-stuff and I mostly want to read about humans struggling with the decision and consequences of becoming adorable colorful ponies because that's fun to do.
947357
Um... it just wouldn't leave my head. I tried and tried, but... it wouldn't leave.
I should mention that some time back (my memory stinks, so I don't know how far) I was corresponding with Tinandel, and he came up with the notion of doing a Rashomon pony story - a crime is committed, and each person involved has a different take making the truth impossible to determine. Done right, such a story would be a deep insight into the minds of the characters and how they see the world, and how many different worlds there truly are, how many different truths there are, one for each individual, but no objective truth to be found.
I promised to support Tinandel with cover art and typography, if he would do such a story. And that stands.
But crime... crime and Los Angeles... you can't get around that. I had to do a crime story. It is a must, if one is writing about LA.
So, this chapter is inspired by that conversation with Tinandel, but I knew I could not, should not, write his Rashomon. Frankly, just trying to get into the heads of all the slime buckets of such a story would weary me. So I decided to take a different path. If the subject is a Gordian Knot of crime, my answer is to cut it. Go Alexander! My crime scene is just a scenic backdrop to the focus of my tale - the use of authority and force, and the process of the choice of its application.
It is my hope that Tinandel will do what this story is not - a deep and brilliant insight into a set of characters that each see an event differently. I would love to read it. Eagerly.
But, I would not want to write it.
I had been trying so hard to not think about this concept so much... I completely forgot about the inspiration! (Sorry, Tinandel!) So I will rectify that by adding a note at the top. Credit where credit is due.
Thanks for reminding me, Tinandel. And sorry I am a forgetful old fool.
947408 "painting the town purple"
Oh Sweet Celestia's Fetlocks, that is just the best way to put it. You should run with that. It is too good.
948316
Sorry, didn't mean to come off as complaining or suggesting impropriety or anything. It's not like the idea we discussed obviously, it's just the similarities in the initial setup made me wonder if there was a connection.
948360
You inspired me greatly, no two ways about it. I just forgot about that fact until you reminded me. I am grateful for your inspiration.
For one thing, failing to do a crime drama in Los Angeles... would be like making a BLT with no bacon in it. Yuk!
I've never had a good memory, even as a child, and now, on anti-anxiety medication, I can't tell you what I did yesterday. I kind of live in this weird, ever-present NOW. My unconscious somehow gets me through, but I forget things like, well, our communication after only a few days. Or weeks. Or whatever it was.
It's embarrassing. Especially in public, face to face... I can't remember people's names unless I've said them ten dozen times, I cannot remember faces, not even my own... but... it's better than living in sweat-drenched, pounding heart terror 24/7. I have serious anxiety disorder - the genetic kind. It ran in my mother's side of the family. Put her sister in the bin. It's pretty bad. Fortunately, there is medicine now.
You were fine! I just forgot to give you credit for inspiration, and now that's fixed, with a link and everything!
Sigh.
947212
Regarding Luna, I notice that you've touched on just how disparate she and Celestia can be and are, back in Code Majeste. I find that rather intriguing indeed, and I'd love to see that explored more, honestly.
As for Chua here? I kinda just want to give the poor guy a hug. Immortality, even temporary as it is, with organ replacement, is not all it's cracked up to be. 146 years is a looooong time to be doing the same thing, and he's obviously tired. He has a good soul, though, and tries to do what's right. Admirable indeed, even if his intentions are a little on the sketchy side at the end.
"meet appropriate justice" -- In this context, the word is "mete" (related to "meter"; it relates to measuring the justice to be dispensed). Usually the idiom is "mete out justice", so you might want to consider adding "out" as well.
"So she is forced by the same stick up her ass to reject the PER". Wow, that must be one heck of a stick! But then when your plot is this big it's gotta be just as big to get the job done.
24.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m5ued52QWe1r3xauuo1_500.png
P.S. If this image offends too much go ahead and take it down. I'll understand.
949888
I LOVE Ask Princess Molestia. And Gamer Luna.
I am a writer. I like plot.
946879
The problem with just going full-on aggressive like that, though, is that it polarizes the entire scenario. Celestia (or Luna) openly support the PER and start forced conversions, and the Bureaus lose any pretense of being a peacekeeping / humanitarian effort and are pretty obviously an act of war. I can't imagine how many people would be driven to join the HLF even under ordinary TCB conventions simply because of the existence of groups like the PER; if said groups were suddenly sanctioned by the crown, I imagine it'd push just about every remaining human on the planet into the "it's us or them" mindset. If the Sisters decide to throw their hat in this arena, it's pretty much guaranteed to ratchet up the body count.
952550
Plausible deniability has ever been the method to have the masses content seeing one hand lightly spank the other which is getting the job done.
Celestia is playing a close game, but then she is a ruler, and a ruler... rules.
952550
Well, that's pretty much the Ten Rounds scenario as I envisioned it. The Bureaus soaked up all the willing humans, thereby making it easy to identify who the unwilling ones were, so once the Bureaus ran dry, it was time for a liiittle policy shift, helped along by the severely reduced numbers of humans left around to even be polarized on the matter.
954507 "I don't expect you to believe in God but get your facts straight and don't damn Christians for things they don't believe in."
Apparently you haven't met the same Christians that I have met. Maybe you don't believe in a literal bible, but there are a very large number of people out there who do, and when I say literal, the word is hardly sufficient. I assure you there are a frightening number of religious people who would absolutely disagree with your assessment of what 1st century people believed, and be utterly convinced that their view was even MORE believed in back then, because of how actually, really, truly true it is.
I do have my facts straight, CrossoverManiac - they're just the 'facts' of people who aren't you, who don't believe the same things you do.
You would be astonished, I think, to find out how many utterly different versions of 'Christianity' there really are, and how utterly they differ from each other, and how truly, deeply terrifying what some of the largest and most influential groups deeply believe.
That's the problem with religion, you know - one person's 'fact' is another person's apostasy.
Which is why I do not Believe in anything, and why I consider 'Truth' to be the greatest enemy of Mankind.
933904 Chatoyance, you act as though season 2 is the Mr. Hyde to season 1's Dr. Jekyll. In reality, this is not completely accurate. It certainly has its problem, but it's not as bad as you make it out to be. First off, Lauren Faust actually had a hand in the creation of season 2 besides the Discord episodes including the creation of Princess Cadence and Queen Chrysalis. The only thing that irked her so much was making Cadence a winged unicorn/alicorn. And Faust has been vocal about the changes made to the story. She had pointed out instances where a scene was cut or a character design change was made. Faust, while not overtly hostile towards Hasbro, had not been silent on the deviations made in her show.
As for ponies being mean, cruel, or selfish, this happened in season 1, Trixie, the bully ponies from Cloudsdale, Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon, Prince Blueblood and the other snobs at the Grand Galloping Gala were, in fact, capable of negative human emotions. And unlike your stories, Faust has written humanity's influence out of it all together. There is no William to pollute the pony genepool with his proto-ponified humanity to explain it away. Even the Mane 6 could be utter tools on a bad day. Rarity's greed almost caused Equestria to have a hundred years of dragon air pollution. Rarity and Applejack being snarky with each other at Twilight's slumber party. Rarity went to the GGG to find herself a rich husband. No mention of love. All that mattered was that he had wealth and a royal title. But Rarity isn't the only one. The other Mane 5 having nothing but ingratitude towards Rarity when she made them dresses for the GGG. Rainbow Dash is shown consistently as being an arrogant show off like Trixie.
What about violence? Is pony violence a S2 reference? Putting aside Faust's partial influence in S2, pony society has palace guards, which is not needed nor wanted in a society composed of total pacifists. Rarity, back in part 2 of the pilot had no problem mule-kicking that manticore. Rainbow Dash attacked the dragon in "Dragonshy". But they're not as violent as humans you say? What humans are you talking about? The human from the barbarian tribes that finished off the Western Roman Empire in A.D. 476? The humans living in modern Western Europe? What about the human Buddhists in Tibet? Human behavior is heavily influenced by culture and upbringing a.k.a. nurture. Ponies are probably the same. Blueblood might have been as humble as Big MacIntosh if he was raised on Sweet Apple Acres rather than in a palace with servant ponies waiting on him hoof and hoof.
What about Celestia being powered down in S2. Celestia needed to be saved by the Mane 6, not once, but twice in episodes where Faust had creative control over and was saved by Cadence and Shining Armor in an episode where Faust had input into the episode.
954713
I've more than made my case in Around The Bend. There is no argument, because there can be no denial.
Frankly it would only make things worse if Lauren Faust actually did have any real, significant input into season two. If that were true - it isn't by the way, the only input she is even allowed any more is minor, cosmetic matters. She has no control whatsoever over the world that is being built by the season two writers - because that would mean that she was broken.
If Lauren Faust was responsible for the world-destroying continuity failure of season two, then it would mean that the reason she left was not that she was pushed out by Hasbro - as I know she was - but instead that she had suffered a mental and emotional breakdown leaving her a shell of her former self, unable to function logically or rationally in the world, and unable to follow her own original concepts - concepts, I might add, that go back to her own childhood.
It would mean that she was wrecked as a person.
Every response I have is in Around The Bend and it is more than enough.
If you ever should work in the business, with corporations like Hasbro - and I have, by the way, though it was with regard to the Transformers line and not My Little Pony - you would quickly comprehend that what I have to say about these matters is based on experience and not speculation, nor on crap from the internet.
Go work for Hasbro for a year, then get back to me. Until then... thank you very much for sharing.
954909 "If you ever should work in the business, with corporations like Hasbro - and I have, by the way, though it was with regard to the Transformers line and not My Little Pony - you would quickly comprehend that what I have to say about these matters is based on experience and not speculation, nor on crap from the internet."
That information came from Lauren Faust's own deviant art page. Not to mention everything else I cited is season 1 material.
954995
How many times do I have to say that - if you work in media - you never, never, NEVER disparage anything, especially when it is true. That is why Hollywood types are all "Oh, he's just the best director to work for" and "On set, it was like a family!"
Never mind. Sure, you're right! You win! Gosh, a DA page is sure to be absolute truth. What was I thinking? Of course everyone is totally open about everything regarding their career in public. I am such a silly. I was soooo wrong. Season two is GREAT! I love it! You've totally changed my mind! Thanks for setting me straight.
955011
It's a DA page set up by the creator of the show who has been candid about the changes made to her original concept. But if it bothers you so much, call Princess Celestia "Queen Celestia" and Big MacIntosh "Big Apple", pretend Scootaloo and Sweetiebelle doesn't exist, and have Pinkie Pie replaced by a pegasus named Surprise and Fluttershy by an earth pony named Posey because those were the changes made to Faust's original concept if you want to be a diehard Faust purist. BTW: I know about these changes because Faust had said these were her original concepts. Just because she doesnt' talk about the drama taking place inside Hasbro doesn't mean she's not being straight with her fans on the change in direction the show has taken...unless she's lying about those changes.. BTW: You will have to accept the existence of Princess Cadence (though, only as a unicorn) and the existence of Queen Chrysalis as well.
955090
I don't have to accept anything I don't choose to about a television program. Fuck Cadence. Fuck Chrysalis.
I write within the season one universe, because it was relatively self-consistent and had a clear and decent vision behind it. I write science fantasy, and that demands logical worldbuilding. Season two fails that, completely, so I cannot use it. That is all there is to it.
If I was just writing wild cartoony crap, then I could do humans in Equestria, make Pinkie a psychopath or send a pony to an earth where nobody would take advantage of a completely clueless 16-year old girl.
But I don't write cartoony crap. I write science fantasy with a logical and self-consistent world behind it, a world you can trust and believe in... if you want.
If you read my stuff, you will be reading season one MLP:FIM, or any episode from later seasons that reasonably conforms to the world defined in season one of MLP:FIM. Anything that breaks that universe, anything stupid or foolish or done only as a joke - it doesn't exist in my Equestria. Period. End of Line. Case closed.
I never played LA Noir and yet this chapter reminded me of. I don't even like mystery that much. Fun chapter.
956152
Huh? I've written long, vast blogs on the nature of my take on the FIM:MLP universe. I've written an entire collection of short stories in order to demonstrate how many different ways the Conversion Bureau mythos could be spun or twisted or deformed. I've explored, in detail, how the current fandom differs from the original fandom due to the massive changes in the show itself from it's original conception.
There is probably no other author on FimFiction that has gone into more detail on the nature of fanon versus canon, nor on how canon changes - and not always for the better - and how arbitrary BOTH fanon and canon are, as well as how fanon can often be vastly superior to canon.
It is as if I have spent a lifetime saying the sky is blue, CrossoverManiac, and you have come to get me to admit that the sky is blue.
You... are a very, very, very silly pony.
956602
*just quietly hugs for having to put up with other ponies complaining at you for your own work*
"Chua smiled, his face the face of a man ready to go home."
I had to take a moment.
Beautiful ending
I was rooting for that ending ever since I found out what was in the bag, so glad you went with it :D also, since you mentioned memory problems in a comment up here, just thought I'd remind you again about my last comment on Code Majeste in case you forgot already! It's really important to me, I'm sorry if I'm bothering you about that but I think you'll understand why I'm so insistent once you read it.
Holy crap! I didn't even notice the "ponify then and let the princesses sort them out" corrolary to "kill everyone and let god sort them out" until the comments! Really, your work is just chock full of strategic intertwinements, historical references, and philisophical/moral debates, which is especially why I love your writing. There's always something deeper than you see on the surface, and then something deeper than that!
950483 I see what you did there .
I love the hard-boiled detective angle.
I also love the "Convert 'em all and let Celestia sort 'em out" ending.
Makes me wonder...we know what happens to new foals who are converted against their will. What happens to the PER ponies who aren't quite right in the head? They're a bunch of intelligence agents who used a clumsily modified form of the potion and are actively disobeying Celestia's direct mandate. From what I have seen, Celestia does not give direct orders any more than she absolutely has to, and when she does, she does not like to be disobeyed. Is she still going to let them into Equestria? Is she going to put them in some kind of quarantine in the Exponential Lands? Is she going to modify their memories? Inquiring minds want to know.