The program you're watching isn't that great. But you heard the ending might be entertaining. It's one of those teen shows where the humor is surreal and sometimes dumb. But it passes the time. As you watch the notice for ads come up, you see the seal of the Royal Pony Sisters and the Ministry of Inter-Sentient Affairs, not one that comes up all that often, oddly enough.
Appleoosa appears in the focus of the camera. A standard frontier town. Pleasant enough to look at, with nice buildings kept up to the highest of Equestrian standards. The streets are dirt, but well-trampled, packed into something like a normal, solid road. Ponies pass in the background, in stetsons and bonnets, gingham dresses or vests as appropriate. Also in the background are buffalo, both cows and bulls, wearing their traditional feathered headbands.
The focus swings over to a beefy and powerful light-brown buffalo, with three feathers in his headband. He is casually strolling down the street, looking perfectly content with himself. That seems to be due to the unicorn mare snuggled up against his side. She is a dusty orange color, with a soft and puffy mane of dark lavender. She's showing off the greenest eyes anywhere in Equestria, and they are focused on that big lug of a buffalo. Oddly for a pony, she is also wearing a headband, with a single feather in it. And both of them are wearing matching gold rings on their left forelegs.
Across the screen, text flashes, imposed over the peaceful scene. “In Equestria and the near lands, 15% of all relationships lasting more than a year are between those of different species. The largest increase in interspecies relations are between ponies and Diamond Dogs, Changelings and buffalo.”
The scene abruptly cuts to the inside of a studio, featuring the mare. She is as elegant as she was strolling down the street, looking calm and professional. “Hello Equestria. My name is Clarion Bell, of the Hoofington Bells. Heiress, hobby farmer, Appleoosan citizen, and wife of the biggest bundle of muscle and heart that there could ever be. It wasn't easy, because our town used to be very separated. After one wedding, nopony wanted to be the next to blink.
“And that was wrong. Very wrong. We shouldn't have just assumed things would be fine with one token relationship. It never is. I did terrible things. I made him terribly sad. To love and hide is cowardice. It is only really love if you are out and open with it. It used to be I dreamed of screaming his name from the rooftops. Now I don't need to; walking down the street with him is enough.”
The scene shifts. It's the same studio but now you're looking at the buffalo bull. Seated before the camera in the studio his great, muscular bulk looks less grandly intimidating and more... awkwardly charming, like a good-natured goofball in a romantic comedy. “Hey there, uh... everyone, I guess. My name's Howling Gale-Bell. I'm a stampeder for Chief Thunderhooves, and assistant resource manager. Which means I check plants out. Don't tell the chief I said that.”
He awkwardly rubs his head and gives a pitch-perfect nice-guy smile. “So yea... I'm married to THE best mare in all of Equestria. I don't even need to go looking around to say that. She was the only mare that said hello to me, and then MORE than said hello, if you know what I mean. Don't tell my wife I said that. It was so hard keeping it a secret. I wanted to tell everyone about it. But that would have hurt her. And she was hurting enough just keeping us a secret. It's never right, hiding who you love. Especially if the only reason is they're not your species. That doesn't matter. What matters is you love them.”
Another quick cut and both are sitting in the studio, cuddled up good and close. Clarion speaks first, “Once more, I am Clarion Bell...”
Howling comes in right after, “And I'm Howling Gale-Bell...”
Then both at once, “And we say, it's okay to stray.”
The camera loses focus as text comes up on the screen. “It's Okay to Stray from your own species. For more information about interspecies love, hybrids and hybridization, or to report cases of discrimination, contact the Ministry of Inter-Sentient Affairs.” A phone number and address come up as the spot ends.
- - -
You're flipping now. The guide was not promising and that pessimism is borne out by the dearth of programming capable of catching your attention. So many channels, even imports from the Griffin Kingdom, the United Colonies and the Grand Veldt. And there's nothing. As you flip by one station you catch the tail end of the seals of the Royal Pony Sisters and the Ministry of Inter-Sentient Affairs. That gets you to stop.
Rather than an external shot, this spot is inside of a home. It's very bright, the walls a lovely eggshell color, fully capable of reflecting the abundant sunlight streaming in from the many open windows. Judging by the view from out of them the place is either a small home or large apartment in Canterlot, at least fourth terrace, if not third. It is a standard living room, a dark wood floor mostly covered by a large and fluffy white rug. A glass coffee table forms the centerpiece of the room, which is also filled with nick-knack shelves, two sofas, an entertainment center, and a large, overstuffed chair, suitable for two if they snuggle.
Into the scene sashays a humming figure. She is all black, and slightly shiny, shaped like a pony with a curved, smooth horn, green wings, a green midsection and holes through all four legs and her wings. A Changeling. She's definitely female, judging by the subtle bodily hints that have been pointed out in the acclimation classes and in a few educational programs.
She's using her magic to swish a feather duster around, brushing dust off of the little figurines on the shelves and from the books artfully scattered over the coffee table. Suddenly, a shadow looms and tackles her, pinning her to the couch. He's a pegasus. All white, coat, mane and tail. He looks like a royal guard, but his mane is much less “buzz cut” than the standard. And he's no albino, his eyes are a soft brown color. He's snuggling with the Changeling, and kissing her up and down the neck, making her giggle loudly.
Text comes up over the scene. “According to the most recent figures, 10% of Equestrian citizens are hybrids of some variety, primarily hippogriffs, mules and zonies.”
The two are next seen in the studio, pegasus kissing the giggling Changeling under her ear-analogues over and over, while she tries to speak. “Hello, I am Ah! Ha ha ha! S-stop that, honey... I am Marianne, swarm defector and first recognized naturalized Changeling. I was a captive in the dungeons of Canterlot, an enemy, a beast, a monster. But not to Thunder.
“He saw straight through to me. The real me. He could see that the holes were in my legs and in my wings, not in my heart. He opened himself up to me and I to him. We didn't hide when our love created Ponylings. Our Ponylings. The first Ponylings, and certainly not the last.”
The pegasus finally manages to pull himself away from his wife's neck, looking into the camera with a grin. “My name is Thunder Crash, retired Miles Scutum of the Celestian corps, internal palace security, dungeon detail. I sure got lucky. The one captive of the invasion. I was down there, day after day. Getting to know her. Getting closer and closer. Learning she was just like us. These days I'd probably be guarding some stuck-up Randomoid. Guess I retired just in time.
“She really reached me. She told me what it was like for her in the swarm. Workers and drones are not allowed to be together. Under pain of death. And all she ever wanted to be was a mother. She wasn't so different from ponies. I saw it. And I was so lucky that she saw something in me, and let me be the father of her Ponylings. OUR Ponylings.”
Both of them look lovingly at each other, blue eyes to brown. “We say, it's okay to stray.”
As before, the screen blurs out to show the address and phone number, along with the note about what they are for.
- - -
News. News. News. Happy stories about fashion shows and pet expos, cut with some of the latest news of serious issues, such as the most recent arrests of still-active Randomoid sympathizers, including an actual Vault's Vale employee. Very intense and stirring stuff. The report ends with a bit of cheering for Equestria, and segues into the seals of the sisters and the Ministry of Inter-Sentient Affairs.
The setting is unquestionably Canterlot. Second terrace, without a doubt. The beautiful ponies are very much out in force. They walk along with their snouts in the air and smug smiles on their faces. That all changes in an instant, a slight grimace crossing the visible features as a new couple comes along.
This one is a unicorn and a Diamond Dog. And not just a Diamond Dog, a Dig Dog, the biggest of the breeds. He lacks his helmet, showing off his jowly face and warm, kind eyes. He wears a tailored outfit, a perfectly-fitted white shirt and single-breasted jacket. His companion is a silvery-gray unicorn with pale-pink mane and tail, silver streaks shot through them. Her body is long and tall, though she is a bit thick in the body, both from the new style of natural heaviness, and from an obvious pregnancy. She wears an ornately jeweled saddle and a large, lovely hat that compliments her mane.
The Dog has his hand resting on the pony's back, occasionally sliding it down to stroke his huge, manicured fingers over the swollen belly. The motion brings a deep blush to the mare's face, and a tittering giggle. The other ponies around seem to have different takes on that. Some simply turn and walk away, some try to hide scowls after noticing the presence of the camera, and a very small number actually smile, including one well-dressed colt, who is quickly shuffled off by his parents.
Text comes up over the scene. “Hybrids, and interspecies daters, occupy all levels of pony society and are, in most respects, seamlessly integrated into their respective social strata.”
In the studio, the two figures look forward into the camera. The Diamond Dog sits on a provided divan, with his wife spreading across his lap in a posture that comfortably exposes her pregnant belly, which is being gently massaged by the Dog. She looks appropriately relaxed and comfortable, both with the situation and with being the direct focus of the camera. By way of contrast, the Dog looks completely lost, only his massaging keeping him mostly calm.
“Mmmmy apologies, but this massage is most delicious. Yes... our Diamond Ponies are mobile at this point in their development. Twins. But I digress... my name is Platinum Shine, model, socialite and VERY pleased mother of one. Soon to be three. I met my darling Basalt when he was up in Canterlot trying to find a buyer for his amazing crystal formation.
“He met only scorn and attempts at cheating him out of his glorious treasure. He truly opened my eyes to how base and coarse my fellow upper-terrace ponies are. After taking him in to warm him and give him a comfortable space, he offered to give me his wonder. If you wish to see it, it is right now in the Canterlot Institution of Natural Science, in the Museum of Thaumato-Geology. You may also find photographs of its successful prize-winning showing at the Ponyville County Fair. If you see it you will know a fraction of the beauty of his soul.”
Basalt was silent, looking into the camera like a deer caught in bright lights. Eventually he began talking, with a quaver in his voice. “N-name is Basalt. Used to dig. And sell gems. Then found beautiful gems in so many colors. Tried to sell to those in Canterlot. Make bits, have good house. Got better than bits, got beautiful wife. Platinum good to me. So good for big, ugly Dog.”
A silvery-gray aura envelopes Basalt's head, gentle strokes seen over his fur. “My handsome Dog. My wonderful powerful husband...” She smiled to the camera and said, “We're happily wedded and so much in love and we say... Basalt dear?”
Both spoke, their discordant voices soundly surprisingly good together, “It's okay to stray.”
The scene goes out of focus, to show the appropriate information as before.
- - -
There's been a marathon all day, movies of popular plays from the time of Princess Luna, from the classic black and white versions to the more modern productions, including the ones with avant-garde sensibilities in their design, though the text had been preserved. Over the past few years such program marathons have come to be a herald of a fast-approaching Nightmare Night. An emerging tradition.
As one concludes, there a shot of the seals of the Ministry of Inter-Sentient Affairs and the Royal Pony Sisters, which fades into the background of the studio. At the center of the studio, sitting in a chair, is a slightly-elongated, approximately-pony-sized purple and green dragon. Spike, strongly associated with the Elements of Harmony. He sits stroking a mustache, with a pint-sized phoenix sitting on his shoulder.
“Ladies... hi there, my name is Spike Sparkle. Or Spike Sparkle-Pie I guess. She's pretty much my mom, I always thought of her like that. She hatched me and all. And she's married now, so Pinkie's my other mom. Woah... dude that's kinda creepy. She's all kinds of strange...”
“That's my wife you're talking about!” An angry voice cries out from off-camera. “AND your new mom! Have some respect. Just for that, no more mustache for a week, Romeo.”
“Wait!” With a violet flash the mustache vanished, leaving Spike's lip bare. “Man... fine. Anyway, hey Equestria. I'm here to say, I'm available...”
“Spike...”
“What I mean is, like many out there I, too, feel in my heart that I could truly fall in love with and make a life with someone not of my own species. And yes... maybe because of my being a dragon it might not be possible to actually have children with them. But hey, we can adopt. I'd love them all the same. So even if there aren't ideal solutions, there's still something. So... I'm Spike Sparkle-Pie, this is Peewee, and I say, it's okay to stray.” He smiles to the camera and gives a thumbs up. Then holds it by his head. “Seriously, call me. Mares, your perfect date is here...”
“Spike!”
The scene goes unfocused, to show the address and phone number. That hides the action in the background which seems to involve a chase and the wavering aura of magic being tossed around.