//------------------------------// // Chapter 30 - The Icy Grip of Bureaucracy // Story: Equestrian Celestial Forge // by TheDriderPony //------------------------------// The sound of heavy knocking on her front door rang through Fluttershy's cottage like the peals of a clock tower bell and sent echoes of fear resounding through her psyche. There was a reason she'd bought a house at the very edge of town, away from all the main roads, and it wasn't for the scenic view. She stumbled over herself as the knock came again, heavy with ill-intent. Probably ill-intent. Nothing good ever came from unexpected guests. Only two kinds of ponies ever came to visit this far away from Ponyville: friends and strangers. Her friends all knew to do a quick knock then clearly announce themselves. Strangers just knocked and knocked and knocked, offering no clues as to the pony behind the door and no respite from her mounting fear over finding out. She sidestepped around a bag of animal feed and tried not to let the darker side of her imagination run away from her. Who could it be? A freelance contractor, here to persuade her that her roof was in dire need of repair and it'd cost her hundreds of bits she didn't have? The Manehattan police, come to take her away for not tipping enough at that carrot-dog cart? The postmaster general, here to inform her that, due to a clerical error, no birthday or Hearth's Warming cards she'd ever sent had ever made it to their destination?! She could feel herself starting to get lightheaded and quickly reached into her mane to tap the Feelin' Finer badge she wore almost constantly these days. As a Cube-improved version of the Feeling Fine badge, the smiley-face-adorned piece of metal and plastic not only protected her from confusion, dizziness, and poison, but dealt with her anxiety too. A small (mostly anxiety-fueled) part of her fretted that a therapist might declare a button that instantly drained her worries away to be a dangerous and unhealthy coping mechanism... but she'd never had the courage to visit one in person, and the option to silence that voice was just a quick tap away. A sense of calm spread through her like the warmth from a thick blanket as she took a deep breath and blew the stress out. It probably wasn't nearly as bad as she feared. Almost definitely just a tourist who got lost and wanted directions back to Ponyville. She reached the door without further incident, but nearly tripped over the last step as an extra-enthusiastic knock synced perfectly with a magical tingle in her wings. She waited with bated breath as the feeling grew and grew... then burst apart, leaving behind a strong impression of... gardening?... but little else. She didn’t feel any different. No new skills or knowledge as far as she could tell. No doubt the blessing had continued on past her to bestow itself on somepony else, just like it had for the last half dozen gifts. She was fine with that: her mushroom-growing, magical-badge-making, medicinal-cooking gift was more than enough strangeness for her, thank you very much. Another knock pulled her back to the present. There was still a stranger to deal with. Tapping Feeling Finer once more for good luck (even though it was still on cooldown) she composed herself and opened the door. "Good afternoon." He was a middle-aged stallion in autumnal colors with a flawless goatee that distracted from his prematurely receding mane. He carried a briefcase under one wing while the other dabbed a thin sheen of sweat off his brow with a handkerchief. "I'm looking for the residence of Miss Flutter Shy. Is she in?" "I'm her. I-I mean, I'm me. I mean— yes. I am. Fluttershy. That is." He smiled in a way that softened the lines of his face and made her feel even more embarrassed over her stumbled introduction. "Ah, very good, very good. My name is Wolfsbane and I'm here on behalf of the Equestrian Bureau for the Management of Magical Creatures." He leafed through the papers in his briefcase as Fluttershy's smile grew brittle. On her list of 'worst ponies to show up at her door', government officials ranked worryingly high, right up there with pushy salesponies and aggressive survey takers. Government ponies almost always meant bad news, like someone died or she filed her taxes wrong or was being sued. The one good thing about them was that they were usually very busy, so they'd say their piece and leave quickly. "As I understand the situation, a few weeks ago you filed paperwork with the National Registry of Exotic Pets to register a new creature under your care. Does this sound familiar?" "Oh! You're here about Priscilla!" She brightened as her good mood returned for a moment before a new cloud of doubt and anxiety cast a shadow over it. "Did- Did I fill out something wrong? I went over it three times before I mailed it in!" Wolfsbane chuckled. "No, no. Quite the opposite, in fact. They tell me it was one of the most comprehensive reports they ever received, better than what some veterinarians send in. It would have been approved right away if it weren't for one irregularity." He pulled out a paper that she recognized as part of her application. "Under 'Species' you selected 'New'. That’s something of a specialized case which led to your file getting transferred to the EBMMC, and eventually worked its way to my department, Registration of New Magical Creatures." “So I need… more paperwork?” He grinned ruefully and tapped his briefcase. “More indeed. But I’ve brought the forms with me so we can get this done and settled today. Do you mind if I come in? This will probably take awhile." He leaned in closer and she could smell his woody aftershave as his eyes twinkled with interest. "And, just between you and me, after skimming your application I'm just dying to observe this new pet of yours in person. Such a fascinating lifeform.” Fluttershy hesitated but a moment before stepping aside and letting him in. Though caution warned her about letting a stranger inside, she knew a fellow animal lover when she met one. This stallion was a kindred spirit. The next two hours were spent in spirited discussion over tea and cookies. They touched on everything from Priscilla's diet (omnivorous with a sweet tooth for magically rich plants), to the steps she'd taken in cultivating her, to the hungry flower’s relationship with the other animals. All of which Wolfsbane dutifully recorded into the hundreds of little empty boxes on his endless pile of forms. After a time, the flower herself even made an appearance after finishing up her midday sun-nap. “Marvelous.” Wolfsbane smiled as he stroked Priscilla’s lip petals, the plant preening under his ministrations. “I haven't seen a specimen of sentient flora this well-behaved since Professor Jackal out of Mumbray University tamed a wild Tiger Lily twenty years ago, and he needed a whole parasprite breeding program to keep it sated!” He pulled his hoof back and straightened the last few pages of forms they’d yet to complete. “We’ve just a few more minor formalities left and we'll be done. You've chosen a scientific name for it?” Fluttershy shook her head. “I haven’t. Do I need to come up with one right now?” He made a note on his page and waved her off. “It's not a problem. The new edition of the official registry won't be published for another six months, so unless you plan to appear at a scientific conference before then, you should be fine. I'll leave a form you can mail in at your leisure.” Fluttershy relaxed back into her chair and took a sip of her cooled tea. All in all, the visit had not been nearly as bad as she'd feared. “Now all I need is the reference number for the Novel Animal Synergy Project application you filed with the Guild of Alchemists and Life Mages before you began this endeavor, as well as your Life Alchemist registration number and we're all set.” She froze as the tea turned to vinegar in her mouth. “Project application?” The words felt like sand on her tongue. He frowned for the first time since he’d arrived. “You haven't filed your project details with the Guild yet?” He tutted and started searching his briefcase for something. “Sloppy, very sloppy, but you can technically file later if this is an ongoing project. Still, I'm going to need to see your life alchemist license to verify you're qualified for this kind of work." She paled. “My what.” “Registration number. Should be on the bottom of your ID card. Unless you have the older edition where they printed them down the side.” He looked up and noticed her frozen form. “Fluttershy?” “I... don't have one of those.” His frown deepened, furrowing lines into his brow. “You're unlicensed? That's... going to be problematic. Bad, but not... We can still work around this." He flipped one of his pages over to the blank side and started reinking his quill. "There’ll be some fees, but if you have your diploma handy, I can use the information there to backdate you a license.” "M-My diploma?" "From wherever you got your degree in magical biology. Manehattan University's School of Arcanobiology? Fillydelphia Polytechnic? CSGU? Probably not the latter; even these days they rarely accept non-unicorns." He glanced up expectantly only to see her shuddering in place. "I have a certificate of competence from the National Association of Pet Shelters and Animal Sanctuaries?” Wolfsbane dropped his quill, leaving a jagged slash of an ink stain across the pristine paper. "Fluttershy, am I to understand that you went about creating a new form of life, not only unlicensed and unaccredited, but also entirely untrained?" "I'm self-taught?" She offered meekly, but quailed under his hard stare. "Y-yes. That's about right." The silence was overbearing. The cuckoo clock in the other room sounded as loud as his knocking hard earlier, with each tick-tock counting down the seconds to her doom . Wolfsbane blinked several times as his face twisted between emotions. Eventually he settled on a pained expression as he groaned and massaged his temples.  “This… is not good, Miss Fluttershy.” The lighthearted joviality she’d gotten used to was gone from his voice. He’d even added the formal ‘Miss’ back to her name. “As much as I can acknowledge the remarkable work you’ve done with your creation—” Even Priscilla seemed to detect the change in mood and held somberly still “—in creating her you’ve broken no shortage of statutes, rules, and regulations. Violations I have an obligation to report.” He sat up and looked her in the eye. “But you seem like a sweet filly and this is transparently an egregious case of overenthusiasm and amateurish ignorance, so I'm going to do you a favor. Normally, I'd write a report of these violations and mail it to the Guild to work its way through their bureaucracy. What I'm going to do for you is send it directly to a friend of mine who works there along with a personal note explaining the situation. He's a bit of an eccentric, but that can work in your favor. He’ll come down in person to verify the situation and that’ll be your chance. If you can catch his interest with something really unique and novel—be it Priscilla... or something else—he has enough seniority and political sway to make all your problems go away.” “He can?” It was as much a response as she could muster, given she was still in shock from trying to grasp just how much trouble she was in. Wolfsbane nodded as he gathered his remaining papers and snapped his briefcase shut. “He can turn playing Faust without a license into merely playing Faust without filing proper paperwork. If you can get him on your side, that is. You'll still have to pay for all the appropriate licenses and registrations, of course, but he'll be able to lean on the right ponies to make them retroactive and hoofwave away any jail time.” “J-jail time?!" He paused as he stood and gave her a look that could have been carved from stone. “The creation of new creatures is a very serious business, Miss Fluttershy. Do you know what happens when you let any untrained dilettante play Dr. Friesianstein with wildlife?" He stomped his hoof so hard the empty teacups rattled on their saucers. "Bugbears. You get Bugbears. Two hundred years since the queen was exterminated and we're still finding straggler drones hiding in dark corners.” He recomposed himself and offered her a weak smile. “Sorry. Bad memories.” He pulled out a business card and tossed it onto the table as he made for the door. “I hope this turn of events hasn’t soured your opinion of me too much. You’re clearly a natural talent to have such a success with no training, and I’d love to keep in touch. Get back to me after you sort out your legality issues with the Guild and we'll get your creation registered. If they let you keep her, of course.” As he pulled the door shut behind him, a voice which sounded very much like Fluttershy’s but not quite from the right direction called out: “Those license and registration fees you mentioned, how much should we be expecting to pony up?” He paused at the threshold but didn’t look back. “Considering rush charges and compounding membership fees to justify the backdating, I’d estimate around five thousand bits or so. Good luck, Fluttershy.” He closed the door behind him, leaving the cottage in grave silence. In the stillness that followed, a photograph on the wall twitched. "Seems these days they can put a price on creativity," it said. The smiling Fluttershy made of colored inks pulled herself free of the frame, her body twisting and lengthening into a much more mismatched form as it filled the room. “You see,” Discord continued, “this is why I rarely tell ponies what I’m doing. It only leads to bothers like this. Much more fun to just let them find out when it’s too late to stop me.” A thump interrupted him. “Oh? Naptime already?” Fluttershy did not respond, as she’d collapsed in a dead faint.