//------------------------------//
// Chapter 2 
// Story: Fine Print 
// by Starscribe 
//------------------------------//

It felt like he could fall forever.

Tracy’s arm-full of supplies spilled out in front of him, dumping his possessions on the floor. But he barely even noticed, he was much too worried about falling himself. For some reason he couldn’t keep his balance, and he flopped forward, arms flailing out to either side as he tried to catch himself. 

The ground came rushing up to meet him, and his hands struck with an abrupt, numbing shock. He froze a moment, mind reeling like he’d been shot. What the hell had just happened? Why did everything feel so… wrong?”

He blinked bleariness from his eyes, hoping his surroundings would give him a clue. A plain, cement hallway, with light streaming in through a little door on the far side. He felt like he should’ve been utterly blind in the space, yet somehow he could make out the bag of toiletries in front of him, and the bundles of clothes just past it. 

Then a voice spoke from behind him, a voice he now knew belonged to a man called “Discord.”

“Well, that’s going to be an interesting challenge. But I suppose I should’ve known what I was getting into, signing one of you ‘technical’ creatures. Not a one in any galaxy can go to bed at a reasonable hour. Well you’ll fit in perfectly here.” Then came a hand on his shoulder, feeling strangely larger than before in a way he couldn’t quite explain. 

“I know you… but I can’t remember what I’m doing here. What…” It came back to him, one little strand at a time. He needed somewhere to live, or he was going to get fired. He’d taken a desperate last-ditch contract. The relator was helping him move in. “This is… I’m sorry this is so awkward. Can you help me stand up?” He offered one hand, still feeling entirely numb. The fingers in particular felt like he’d soaked his whole hand in cement.

“No need, Tracy. You’re already standing just fine. Don’t worry if you feel a little scrombled by the whole process—passing between universes can do that the first few times. You’ll adapt.”

“I don’t… What the fuck is going on?” He glanced once over his shoulder, finding even his neck moved sluggishly. And worse, nothing he saw made any sense. He stumbled forward, trying and failing to rise with every few steps. There was a doorway up ahead, and a window. Maybe someone else would be here, someone to make any of this make sense.

Each step was another reminder that things weren’t right. Had his shoes fallen off, why could he feel the ground there too? 

His back felt strangely trapped, as though his arms were tied there, though he couldn't make any sense of what he was feeling. Maybe he'd been carrying too much for his first trip? Even so, Tracy didn't slow down. That voice over his shoulder urged him onward, even as he spoke with nothing but friendliness.

"You really shouldn't move so quickly, Tracy. You're adapting to things that most humans will never experience. Take it slow, let your brain catch up. Even Alicorns struggle when they pass between worlds for the first time. There's no shame in that."

Tracy glanced backwards, and this time he got a clearer view of whatever was behind him. The real-estate agent that called himself Discord, with the mismatched suit—except that those weren't just bits of different fabric anymore, they were entirely different limbs. More like a deranged version of Frankenstein’s monster, assembled with no regard for the graves robbed to put it together.

Tracy shuddered, stumbling over the clothes he'd still been trying to carry and finally reaching the door. The light on the other side wasn't stained orange with late afternoon, but still blue-white. He didn't stop to wonder how that might be possible, and instead shoved his shoulder up against the door. He was in luck—it swung inward, letting him stumble into the living room.

He remembered this place, he'd seen pictures of it on Craigslist. A charming, old-fashioned style kitchen, with a fridge that could've come out of the fifties covered in illustrations of flowers. The living room had no television, only some worn-looking sofas with heart pillows, and a ceiling-length mirror running up the wall. That left it with a clear view of him, and Tracy had no choice but to see what was reflected there.

At first he thought it was a strangely-framed picture of a… horse? He couldn't think of anything else to call it, even if it didn't look much like any horse he'd ever seen. The body was covered in dark fur, and its mane was a mix of different blues. Who the hell would do that to their poor farm animal?

But what kind of farm animal had a set of wings on its back, connected with thin skin membranes like a bat? But then the animal moved, banishing any possibility that it could be a painting. The ears twitched and flattened, the eyes squinted forward as though the image was staring back at him. It was staring at him, because he was the one staring. Tracy advanced, crawling forward on all fours, and the almost-horse walked forward to meet him. He leaned to one side to inspect the brightly-colored tail, and the creature did the same. "W-what..." The animal's mouth moved when he did, exposing pointed fangs within.

"You see what I mean? You have every reason to be justified in your confusion, young Tracy. Why don't you let me get the rest of your possessions moved in while you figure yourself out?" He got one more glimpse of that horrifying creature, created of many strange parts of others, before it was gone again the way it had come. Still carrying his stuff.

Tracy turned again, staring at the reflection. This explained a great deal of what he was seeing, the pressure on his back and the air around his back that could only mean he'd become abruptly naked. He felt a set of... saddlebags, was that the word? In the exact brown and gray colors of his old backpack, with the same oversized rectangle inside that suggested the laptop packed into its padded compartment within. And as for his jeans and company polo—the polo had transformed into a vest, and the jeans into a set of almost-socks running up all four of his legs. Again there were the same colors here, even a little gold on the top of the not-socks that suggested the belt he'd been wearing.

"But it doesn't... it doesn't cover anything." He tilted to the side in a daze, and somehow managed to lift one his back legs out of the way. What he saw there confirmed every bit of his fears. He was naked, and none of what was back there resembled human anymore. He shuddered, ears flattening again as he settled his leg back where it belonged. At least between that and the tail it was mostly obscured, though it would be clearly visible to anyone looking back at him from up ahead, or if his tail moved...

What am I thinking? I'm completely losing my mind. None of this can be real. I've been drugged, or I'm in VR, or... something. "It's really happening" obviously couldn't be right. There had to be a scientific explanation.

Review. You were moving into the new property. It seemed incredibly sketchy, but you were desperate not to lose your job. You followed the real estate guy inside, and now... Where was he now?

Tracy turned from the mirror, continuing past it towards a set of old-fashioned picture windows near the door. It looked like the front of the house far more than the entrance he'd used, and one of them was already open. A bright afternoon breeze drifted in, pleasantly cool against his coat.

And through it was... somewhere else. Somewhere he'd never seen before. Somewhere that shouldn't exist. The structures conformed to no rule he knew, with pink glass and hearts set into the cement foundations and around their window frames. But no matter how strange those might look, nothing could compete with the ones walking around between them.

In retrospect, he probably should've suspected what would be waiting for him on the other side based on his own reflection. Why else would he look like this, except to populate an entire... city of such creatures.





There were horses outside, horses more numerous than he'd seen at any equestrian show in his life. Though like him, they didn't conform to any of the usual rules about color, and their shapes were only generally suggestive of horses. Some had wings, feathery things that they used to glide through the air. Others had protrusions emerging from their heads, though he couldn't guess at what those were for.

Tracy turned quickly away, ignoring a friendly wave from a gray-colored horse with wings and an adorable mailbag on her back. He couldn't be looking at this—none of this could exist. The longer he stared, the more utterly out of place he felt.

I need to get out. Even if his senses were lying to him, some suggestive placeholders remained, that maybe he could use to escape. He remembered how he'd gotten here in the first place, that hallway to the door with the stained glass. He stumbled, tripping over his own legs as he made his way back down the hall. He bent down, scooping up his keys as he went. Without hands, he had no choice but to take them in his mouth. Good enough. If he got back to his car, maybe whatever he'd been doped with would be wearing off enough to get away.

None of the clothes he'd dropped were still in the hallway, and he could see the boring brown tile going all the way to the door. There was no telling how that had happened, but he also didn't really care. Keeping his job mattered, having somewhere to live mattered, but not more than not getting killed.

He stumbled out the open doorway, and felt another incredible rush. The ground seemed to fall away beneath him, as he lost track of where he was standing for a moment. Then everything crashed back into focus, a little faster than it had last time. He didn't stumble in total blindness for minutes, or wonder how he'd become so small.

He was standing outside, on a weedy path leading away from the rental house. The door was still open behind him, leading to a plain hallway. There was nothing even a little bit strange about it. It could've just as easily been any other house.

The cool air must be clearing my head. I have to get away from here. He took a few steps forward, and realized abruptly that he was on two legs again. He was still wearing everything he remembered—jeans, his company polo, and the backpack with his laptop. Good, he still had the most important thing he owned. Everything else could be secondary if he could get out alive with that much. This would do just fine.

He jogged forward a few more steps, over to the waiting automobile. But he stopped abruptly before he could get much closer, staring in horror at the figure waiting there beside it.

There was the man in the mismatched suit, the one who had introduced himself only as "Discord." The one who had followed him... where, exactly? Through the door into another world?

"You're confused," he said, leaning on the side of his passenger seat. He popped up, taking a few steps towards him, and causing Tracy to withdraw in fear. But he couldn't go much further—that car was his escape, and the open door behind him was hardly a way out. It was a return to horror. "I get that. Anyone would be in your place. But you should really take the time to think through what you're about to do before you do it."

Tracy hesitated, flailing one arm vaguely in his direction. "You're... lucky I don't have a gun. Whatever you did to me... get out of the way. I'm leaving."

"Who am I to stop you?" Discord stepped aside, letting him wobble over to the car. He could see inside now, see that the interior was so spotless it might've been dry-cleaned. There wasn't so much as a sock left on the seats. Only his little Bluetooth plugin was still inside, right where he left it. Weird thing not to rob if you're going to steal everything I have. It's more valuable than anything I was keeping in the car.

"What did you do?" He still wasn't thinking straight. His memory still spoke of impossible things that obviously couldn't have happened. He could ignore some of them, but... he could still remember the look of that reflection. The feeling of that strangely sensitive skin on his back, crushed by his backpack. "Where's my stuff?"

Discord retreated again, pulling one hand up to his chest. "I helped you get moved in, of course. It's all waiting for you in your room. And a word of free advice—as a connoisseur of chaos, maximum disorder isn't actually that interesting. You're better off having some systems in mind to find the things you need. Just make them unexpected to keep creatures guessing. And quit it with the plastic bins."

Tracy glanced around, scanning the streets. An occasional vehicle passed every minute or so, but otherwise they seemed totally alone. There were no pedestrians, and the only homes with lights on had their shades drawn. It was an unnatural, eerie look for a place so deep inside a city. "What did you do to me?" he whispered, stumbling forward to glare at him. "What kind of drug was that? How'd you give it to me without feeding me or injecting me?"

Discord shook his head. "Not a drug, not a hallucination. I don't understand how you can be so confused, Tracy. It's in your contract."

All this time you knew my name. Now that I think about it, I don't think I ever introduced myself. “No it isn't."

Discord reached past him, to the folded-over piece of carbon paper emerging from his back pocket. He thrust it forward into his hand, unfolding it. "It's section C, paragraph 16. You initialed by it specifically, I don't know why you're so shocked by what it says now."

Tracy wasn't even sure why he bothered looking back down at the contract. But at least the pages were something more familiar than what his memory was telling him. He could study it, and maybe in searching for whatever Discord wanted would at least let him make sense of the man's motives. There has to be a reason for this. I'm not crazy.

Drugs on the paper itself? It didn't feel wet, and he didn't see any powder going into his face. Besides, the man had handled it with his bare hands too, and obviously wasn't completely tripping out either. He found the relevant paragraph without any difficulty at all. The words weren't hard to read, and he wasn't having trouble concentrating. If he really was drugged, they were drugs with a strange way of affecting him.

"The property will remain firmly placed within Ponyville's city limits for the duration of the contract. Leasee will assume form appropriate to the district while dwelling in the property, and may return to their normal form upon exit. For this reason, they may not bring more than one (1) houseguest at a time, or host guests overnight for longer than three (3) days.

He looked up, gasping in disbelief. He'd really signed something that said something so stupid? But there were his initials, faded a little around the edges just as the weird brown ink would've been. "But just because it's written down doesn't mean it matters," he insisted, shoving the contract back towards Discord. "These are just words! They don't mean anything. Contracts are enforced by a court!"

The man in his suit withdrew a little further, hands flat. "I don't need that, human. Don't you want to keep working? It's none of my business where you work, but... I'm going to be expecting that rent the third of every month, as agreed. Your lease lasts for twelve months, just like you signed."

He threw the contract onto the ground, glowering. "Take me to fucking court then. I don't know what you just did to me, what kind of hallucinogens are in the air, or... whatever it was. But there's no way a judge is going to think that is enforceable."

"A judge." Discord leaned forward, wrapping one willowy arm around his shoulder. He laughed energetically, shuffling up and down. "That's hilarious. You actually think I would trust your authorities to enforce my contract? Oh no." He bent down, scooping up the fallen pages and dusting them off. He turned them around to the last page, where he'd made his final signature. "I had no idea you were the kind of person who would so flippantly disregard their word! I would've suggested you take another few minutes to review what you were signing. But... you really should read it over."

He had half a mind to tear the pages and storm off down the street. But then he caught the "default and enforcement" section, and his body went rigid.

"Following the grace period of eight (8) days following a default, the leasee agrees to permanently forfeit their human body and submit themselves as a subject to the sole amusement of Discord, for a number of centuries equal to the number of months defaulted on the lease."

Tracy's mouth hung open, and he stared stupidly down at the pages in his hands. For a few seconds he wasn't sure what to say—he was almost as blinded by his own insanity in signing this as he was by the boldness of whoever had printed those words in ink. "Did I... Are you the Devil? But... I thought you weren't allowed to lie! You said there were no hidden fees! Just the rent!"

Discord's face split into a wicked, toothy grin. Even if he wasn't the Devil himself, he was sure doing a pretty good impression. "I told you there were no other costs, and that's true. You don't pay by living in Ponyville. The property is exactly as it was advertised online. You walked back through the door yourself. On this side, you're human. Over there... humans aren't really a thing anymore. It's no fault of yours, but I'm not going to make this any harder on either of us than it has to be." He snapped the pages out of his hand, folding them up and tucking them neatly into one of Tracy's pockets. "Just be a good little cog and do what you promised, and when the year is up, you're free to leave."

He walked away, back towards his car. "Or drive away and see what happens when you're eight days late on your rent." He flung the door of the strange limousine wide open, hopping inside. Then he rolled the manual window down, poking his head all the way across to look up at Tracy. "Oh, by the way. You'll probably want to find a laundromat on this side, there's no facility on-site. The electricity is... well, buy a UPS before you try and plug anything in over there if you don't want it to explode. Let's see, what else…? Oh, obviously your currency isn't going to be worth anything through the portal. I would love to convert it for you, but the portal doesn't like lies. It can't handle that fiat you all believe in. I guess you could bring over scrap gold if you want anything to buy on that side. Uh..."

"You're insane." He backed away from the open window, glaring. "There's no fucking way I'm staying here. I'm not getting drugged for your amusement. I'm going to... call the police! They won't let you get away with this!"

Discord rolled his eyes. "Oh, please. You're going to tell the police that you've signed a contract with a demon and now you turn into a pony." He laughed, sliding back over to the driver's seat. "If you do, remember to only bring one at a time through the portal. I don't think the human police would be terribly thrilled that you've permanently transformed them into ponies too. And without a contract with me, how could they possibly expect to be changed back?"

He started the engine with a twist of one hand, then sped away into the early evening, his laughter somehow louder than the ancient engine of the old limo.