Martha is unsure of how to feel now that she has been converted into a pony. A get-together with her still human friend does not make her feel any better.
(Set in a The Conversion Bureau universe. The stories of Randa serve to explore various moralities and viewpoints).
Martha understands the necessity of conversion. She understands that, in order for humans to survive, they must become something un-human. Yet she feels so... "uncertain" is the best way she can describe it.
Now an earth pony, she visits the apartment of a friend who is still a human. The encounter only serves to further make Martha realize how different she, and the rest of the world, are now.
For many days, she has wasted hours staring at her reflection.
Martha reaches a foreleg to the mirror. She presses a hoof onto the the glass, onto the equine staring back at her. The eyes of the earth pony are the same as the eyes she had when she was a human - "a bright, clear green," as her ex-partner use to describe them (he was dramatic in speech and, unfortunately, dramatic in personality, which led to their split). Surprisingly, her mane is not the same color as the hair she use to possess - instead of a blonde, it is white, and not even her coat is blonde - that is a light tan. Would she have not minded being this as much, she wonders, if her mane and her coat were brighter colors? Would the pretty colors have somewhat distracted her from her thoughts, she wonders with bitter snort.
She pulls her hoof back, stunned at the noise she has made, then slowly places it back on the mirror, bowing her head. Even days after being converted, she has difficulty grasping that she is now longer Martha the Human.
She is Martha the... Now Pony.
Martha... Not a Human... a Now Pony...
Martha the Now Pony.
Martha the... Pony?
"Martha the pony," she murmurs. "Martha the Now Pony."
Ponification is necessary, she knows. Humans cannot survive the Barrier, she knows. Humans have to become ponies to survive. She knows.
But - and her stomach twists into a knot and a small part of her mind is screaming at her for being so selfish, because she doesn't feel grateful, she doesn't feel saved, she doesn't know how she feels. Uncertain? That seems to be the most fitting word. Uncertain. What she feels, and what she wishes not to feel but can't help but feel, is uncertain.
Martha traces her hoof over her reflection, then glances over at the clock on the wall. It's almost time for her to head out and see Kim.
Kim the Still Human.
Kim the Still Human with Martha the Now Pony.
Time to stop looking at the mirror, time to stop looking at herself, time to get ready to go. Perhaps being in her company will put her mind at ease. Perhaps Kim will know what to say, what to do.
Martha almost jumps when she hears her phone ringing from the kitchen counter. She dashes over to retrieve it, crashes into the chair reaching to the counter, falls to the ground with what she finds to be an embarrassingly childish "Ouch!". Furiously blushing, she gives her coat an involuntary shake, then attempts to pull herself back up to her hooves, only to end up falling flat onto her stomach. "Oof! Gr... I hate hooves," she grumbles. Again, the phone rings. Martha, with great effort, places the chair back up, and, again with great effort, pulls up onto the chair. She uses her mouth to pick up the phone from its holder and place it onto its side.
Maybe, Martha thinks as she attempts to dial the number that called her, she would worry less about her new life as a unicorn or a pegasus. Or even if she wasn't angst-ing any less than she is now, answering the damn phone certainly wouldn't be a trail. And so, being an earth pony, Martha suffers from the most mundane tasks, like trying to use this damn phone - why wouldn't her hooves just let her press the goddamn buttons -
And finally, she is able to reach to the person who called her - her brother, Dylan. Martha gives a satisfied sigh of relief, and is vaguely aware that a smile is creeping across her face.
The very first thing her brother says is, "You took long enough to answer."
Martha glares at the phone. Dylan, as though he has seen her reaction face-to-face, laughs. "Hey hey," he says, "I didn't mean to make you feel bad. I know how it feels, being a fellow earth pony. Guess it makes sense for us both to be earth ponies, being twins and all." Dylan chuckles. "Ah, sorry for babbling. Anyway, sorry about that. You know I love ya, sis."
"I love you too, Dylan," Martha says, her voice soft.
"I haven't spoken to ya in what feels like forever!" Dylan says. "How've things been since you've gone pony?"
"Things have been okay, I guess." Again, Martha glances at the clock on the wall. Surprisingly, not so much time was wasted trying to answer the damn phone; she isn't running late. "I have to go really soon, but... I wanted to hear your voice before I left the apartment."
"Seein' Kim? So, are you two finally goin' out, or - "
"Shut up, Dylan." Martha's ears flatten.
"Aw come on! It's so obvious that you two have the hots for each other. Just ask each other out already, or something. Or are ya waiting until she becomes a pony too?"
"Dylan, I told you to shut up!"
"Fine," Dylan says. He gives a huff; Martha giggles at this. "So, how long have ya got into ya have to go?"
"Well, I should get going now, as much as I'd love to catch up with you on things. I'll call you later, though!"
"Don't ya mean you'll try to call me back?"
Martha scoffs. "Ha ha, very funny."
"But, in all seriousness, why don't ya ask somepony to help ya out with the whole pony thing, Martha?"
"I'll figure the whole pony thing out on my own," Martha says curtly. "I really have to go now. Goodbye, Dylan."
"Huh?" Martha can hear the confusion in Dylan's voice. "Martha, are you alright - "
Martha presses the off button. She hops (or rather falls) off the chair and heads for the door, pausing to wipe off the tears that are starting to spill from her eyes.
Martha reaches a foreleg to the mirror and presses a hoof to the glass, to the equine staring back at her. The eyes of the earth pony are the same as the eyes she had when she was a human - "a bright, clear green," as her ex-partner used to describe them (he was dramatic in speech and, unfortunately, in personality, which led to their split). Surprisingly, her mane is not the same color as the hair she use to possess - instead of a golden blonde, it is white; and not even her coat is blonde - it is a light tan.
A week has passed since her conversion, and she has wasted many hours examining her reflection like this. I'm not a human anymore, she thinks. I'm a pony now.
No, not even a pony. A Newfoal.
She knows that ponification is necessary. She knows that humans cannot survive the Barrier. Humans have to become ponies to survive. She knows.
But - and her stomach twists into a knot and a small part of her mind screams at her for being so selfish, for being so ungrateful - she doesn't feel saved; she doesn't know how she feels. Uncertain? That seems to be the most fitting word. Uncertain. What she feels, and what she wishes not to feel yet cannot help but feel, is uncertain.
Martha traces her hoof over her reflection. She glances over at the clock on the wall. The time reads 2:49. She should head out to see Kim now.
Kim... Martha's heart flutters, and a tiny smile creeps across her face. She begins to approach the door, but then stops and squints at it. Where is the knob -
Oh. Right. The door was adjusted for her.
Martha pushes the door open with her hoof, then steps out. The door swings shut, and she heads out into the bright afternoon.
~~~
As a human, Martha would have enjoyed an afternoon such as this. To quote the cliches her ex-partner spouted: "How radiant is the sun, whose rays bask us all in its glory! How gentle is the breeze, which lightly brushes against us!" But now, going through the suburbs has become an ordeal for her. It is very easy to distinguish Equestrian ponies from Newfoals.
Martha looks down, not wanting to meet the gaze of anybody or anypony she passes by. She notices that there are hooves below her. Her hooves. Her four hooves. Not two feet. Why does she have -
She crashes to the ground, and it is when she is pushing herself up that she remembers what she has become. She resumes her pace, again lowering her head. From the corner of her eye, Martha notices five ponies conversing to each other:
"I bet'cha ten bits that was a Newfoal."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah! You see how they tripped?"
"What about it?"
"It was really awkward-like. Like they didn't know that they have hooves or something. You get what I mean?"
Martha's walk turns into a gallop.
~~~
Martha has reached her destination, and she now stares at the door before her. She raises a foreleg to knock, then stops and lowers it back down.
She, Martha the Newfoal, is on one side of the door. On the other side of the door is Kim, a Human.
But... it's Kim...
Martha forces herself to knock, then waits. She becomes consciously aware of how her hoof is tapping against the floor, how her ears are twitching in anticipation, how her tail is swishing back and forth. She has to inhale, exhale...
And the door swings open.
Martha's heart leaps in her chest.
There is Kim, her eyes the same soft brown; her hair the same color, still long, still beautiful. It hits Martha how she hasn't seen her in ages, and she wants to fling her arms around her, to hug her tightly and tell her how much she's missed her and perhaps tell her how much she really means to her -
Why am I smaller than her? There's only an inch's difference in height -
Oh. Right.
Martha blinks, realizing that she has been staring at Kim. Kim clears her throat, and the very first thing she says is:
"You aren't blonde."
It feels as though someone has slapped her across the face. Martha raises an arm - no, she corrects herself, a foreleg - and looks at its light tan color, then back up at Kim, whose arms are crossed. "No," Martha says, her voice quiet. "I'm not blonde..."
The two stare at each other. All the childish excitement brimming in Martha before begins to waver. She lowers her head, pawing the ground.
Kim says, "So. You're a Newfoal now."
Martha slowly nods, wanting to say something, but unsure of what to say.
"Hm... Do you mind if I... You know, pet you, or something?"
Again, in response, Martha nods. Anything for you to touch me... She shuts her eyes. She hears Kim getting down on her knees, feels a hand lightly graze against her hair - mane - and she shudders.
"Sorry." Martha opens her eyes to see Kim pulling her hand back. "Do you want to come inside," Kim asks. Her tone is inviting, and the smile forming on her face is light and genuine, but there is still a bizarre quiver in the air.
Martha starts to hear the tune of Simon & Garfunkel's "Old Friends" play in the back of her mind. She can't help but outwardly laugh. Kim tilts her head to the side, raising an eyebrow, and Martha only gives her head a shake. Kim shrugs and heads inside.
Martha doesn't immediately follow. She takes a deep breath. Things are changing, but she will be with Kim no matter what.
"What do Newfoals eat?" Kim asks, her voice its usual deadpan tone, as she examines the contents in the fridge. "My assumption is that you aren't the ravenous carnivore you used to be. So, are you a ravenous herbivore now?"
Martha laughs and nods. She has always be drawn to Kim's awkward quirks, has always found them to be rather adorable, and she has to restrain herself from nuzzling her -
Nuzzling. That would be an odd thing to do. Would she have felt the urge to nuzzle into Kim as a human? Martha makes a quiet "hm" sound as she ponders this.
She is brought back to reality by Kim's own musing:
"I have salad. Ponies like salad, right?"
Martha blinks. Kim nods, as though affirming something, and comes to the conclusion that "Ponies like salad."
~~~
Martha and Kim are seated together at a table. Kim has not made herself anything to eat; she has only pulled a can of Diet Coke out from the fridge. She takes a sip from it. Martha looks at the salad placed before her and reaches her head down to nibble at it. When she was younger, her parents jokingly told her that humans do not eat with their faces in their food like animals. As she remembers this, Martha feels her face flush and her heart beat softly, nervously against her chest. She lifts her head up from the plate, places a hoof to her mouth as she clears her throat, and asks Kim in a voice that is a whisper, "Could you look away while I'm eating?"
Kim nods and turns away. Martha eats in silence. Even though Kim is no longer looking, she still feels like there are eyes on her, eyes that are watching her eat like a... like an animal. She brings her forelegs up to her food and scarfs it down, hoping to make the feeling go away. Her ears twitch as she hears Kim take another sip of Diet Coke. Her appetite vanishing, Martha shoves the plate of salad away. She looks at Kim and clears her throat. As Kim glances over her shoulder, Martha quickly scans through a mental list of conversation starters and decides to settle on: "So, how have you been?"
"Fine, I guess," Kim responds with a shrug. Another sip. Kim places her drink on the table. She turns to face Martha and crosses her arms. She says in a somewhat quiet voice, "I'm going to admit that I called you over for a specific reason."
Martha's ears prick up. "Oh?"
Martha wonders if Kim notices how her eyes are slightly widening; if she can hear how heavily her heart is pounding right now; after six years, Kim will finally say that she loves her, and Martha will embrace her and say how she has felt the same way; and she knows it's ridiculous imagining how passionately they will kiss each other; she knows that her corny, overly-optimistic, and borderline sexual fantasies resemble her ex-partner's terrible self-published romance novels, but she can't help but have them, and they swirl and swirl about in her mind because soon, soon, fantasy will become reality -
"I wanted to know what the process of becoming a Newfoal is like."
The stupid, vivid fantasies vaporize. Martha looks away from Kim, unsure of how else to conceal the furious blush that is burning on her cheeks. "Why do you want to ask me about this?" She brushes her foreleg and gives a small, involuntary shudder. "Why not ask somepony more experienced than I am about what being a Newfoal is like?"
Kim shrugs. "You're my friend. You could tell me about it, couldn't you?" She reaches her hand forward - to what, Martha doesn't know - then draws it back.
You're my friend.
So, Martha thinks, I still mean something to her. And maybe telling her what being a Newfoal would be helpful... She won't go through what she was...
Martha continues to rub her foreleg, her gaze still averted from Kim. "What about the process do you want to know about?"
Kim shuffles in her seat. "What is it like going through the Bureau?"
"Well, the Bureau is pretty huge." Martha's head lifts up, her eyes on the ceiling; they squint slightly as she tries to remember the details. "They're absolutely crowded with humans," she says. "Some of them cry really loudly, which can be pretty distracting, especially when you're trying to accept the fact that you have to change your entire body for the sake of - " She cuts herself off and says, "Anyway - There are Equestrian ponies there that come over to try and reassure the humans..."
Human.
Newfoal.
Both alien words.
She continues, "And soon your name gets called on a loudspeaker, along with some other names, and then you get taken into a room by someone - somepony - who also tries to reassure you and comfort you..." Her voice drifts off as she remembers the kind unicorn Blue-Pop, and how gently her hoof stroked her bare skin (Martha realizes that she has forgotten what bare skin feels like) and said... She remembers how the unicorn's voice reminded her of her mother, but the words Blue-Pop said... The words, perhaps, did not matter so much in the moment. Perhaps that is why she can't remember them.
"So you're taken into this room, and the unicorn - pony - that escorts you in stays with you while this doctor-pony prepares to inject the serum into you - "
She hears Kim chuckle and looks at her. "Doctor-pony," Kim repeats with a tiny grin. "So, was there a big whooshy blue telephone box in the room?"
Silence. Then Martha slowly replies, "No, Kim. There was not a big whooshy blue telephone box in the room."
Kim crosses one leg over the other. "Do they try to ask those layman questions?"
Martha's head tilts to the side. "What layman questions?"
"You know, ask you how your day was while they jam a needle into your skin."
"Um..." Pause. "That's... That's what they do, actually, yes..."
Kim nods. "What does getting injected with the serum feel like?"
That was... Strange... Not that Kim was ever not-strange, but... If Kim's bizarre quips were meant to pull away the invisible claws that were beginning to dig into her neck, then why were those claws now sinking further into it?
Then she realized: it was because Kim wasn't asking something that she wanted her to.
She shoved this realization to the back of her mind and answered Kim's question: "There is this warmth that spreads all over your body, and then you fall asleep."
"Did you have any dreams?"
Many Newfoals have reported, before waking up in their new bodies, to have had dreams that they soon realized were reflections of their thoughts, their memories, their aspirations, their fears... Some have even claimed to have been visited by Luna, the Princess of the Night, and a Walker of Dreams.
Martha hastily answers, "I did have a dream, but I don't remember it so well. And then I woke up, and now I'm a pony." No, not even a pony. "A Newfoal."
"What does it feel like to be a Newfoal?"
Martha places her forelegs on the table. She looks down at her hooves. "It feels... Strange, I guess..."
And then, without giving Kim time to say anything, without giving thought to the words that tumble out, she says to Kim what she has realized only moments ago:
"You haven't asked me how I am."
Kim doesn't respond, so Martha says in a harsher tone, "You asked me what being a Newfoal is like, but never how I was."
Kim asks, her voice soft, "What are you upset about? I don't understand."
Something is churning within Martha, and she slams her hooves against the table, causing Kim to jolt back. She screams, "Am I still even Martha to you!?"