//------------------------------// // Worry // Story: Love and Tolerance // by Final_Draft //------------------------------// Love and Tolerance My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic © Hasbro & Lauren Faust By: TOO S0BER --***::: Chapter 13 :::***-- Horizon Brightness. I curled up, and tried to hide from the invading beams of sunlight as they weaved their way through my still-open blinds. My left wing unfolded and covered my face while I grumbled malcontent at the rising sun. Ugh, it would be morning already... I peeked between a pair of orange feathers, I glanced at the alarm clock; it read 7:47 a.m. That pretty much confirmed it; I am now doomed to being a morning pony. Granted, this was an hour or so later than the last two days, but still... this sucked! I readjusted in the basket bed that was set up on my couch hybrid. Marcus and I had set up the things we bought, and the first thing I did was lounge in the heavenly softness of the bed meant for pets once the rest of the stuff was put away. Even while I enjoyed the small bed, I still felt that pang of humiliation from having to sleep in something meant for a dog. But that was just an annoying backdrop to how comfortable the damn thing was. I turned my back to the sun's warming rays, and tried to fall back to sleep. Except my damn body just wouldn't have it. My legs – all four of them – just started twitching. I frowned and grumbled sullenly at my body's refusal to leave me alone. Something was irritating me, and I had no idea what. It was just that feeling of having to get up, like I’d been asleep for far too long and it made me restless and stir-crazy. “Fine, damn it!” I complained out loud, then sat up. I glanced around the deserted apartment, and sighed sadly -- my irritation at myself cooled in nearly an instant. I was alone. After I'd explained what happened to Marcus when he came in, he made the suggestion that Ashley stay over at his house. He had a number of reasons to support that opinion, such as there's more room in his place; he had an actual house rather than an apartment. I couldn't deny that I was jealous, but I couldn't afford a full blown home. Second, he could be with Ashley and make her more comfortable to prevent her from trying suicide again. My mind darkened at that thought, and I had stared in concern at the unicorn while he spoke the night before. I knew he would be home more often than I, and I thought he had a roommate sharing one of the extra bedrooms, but I wasn't sure. Either way... I was loathe to admit... she would be more comfortable in his house than in this tiny little studio apartment. That night, with a heavy and regretful sigh, I relented to watch them go. I sighed as I observed the mess. When I questioned Ash about it – after she'd calmed down and got more trustworthy care for that cut on her wrist – she explained exactly what I suspected. She'd been practicing that telekinesis magic trick all day while Marcus and I were out shopping.         And she stated that she had made some progress on it too. My crush told us how she could lift heavier metal forks with ease, and was working on larger items like plates and coffee mugs made of ceramic. That brought a little bit of joy back to the conversation, and served well to distract me from Ashley’s suicide attempt earlier. A second yawn escaped my muzzle, and I lazily removed myself from the pet bed and the couch. I made my way into the small kitchen, intent of eating breakfast fir – Crunch. I blinked in surprise then looked down. I'd stepped on the remains of the broken mug that had been dropped. I guess that's one good thing about hooves, as it seems I'm now less likely to get broken shards of crap stabbing me in the feet.         I groaned exasperatedly, then grappled again with the small pantry doorknob. Inside I found my dust pan and hand-broom… and just stared at it as I tried to figure this latest conundrum out.         “Okay…” I quirked an eyebrow at the cleaning tools. “How do I use you now…?”         After a few moments of thought, I unfurled my wings and gazed at them. I was able to pick up a plastic cup back at Ashley’s; could I maybe use a broom and dust pan with them?         Time to find out.         I grasped at the dust pan first, my feathers wrapped around the plastic handle not meant for wings or hooves. With caution I lifted it off the floor a few inches, just to make sure it wouldn’t be too heavy. Satisfied my wing could support the weight, I drug that piece over to the shattered pieces that used to be one of my mugs, and perched the slanted ramp near the shards. Then went back for the broom itself.         The broom, on the other hoof, turned out to be just too much. The damn thing kept slipping out of my wing’s grasp, it clattered loudly with each failed attempt as I felt my face redden from frustration.         I rolled my eyes as it fell one more time, and I contemplated to just stomp the frigging thing and be done with it.         Instead I took a deep breath. “Okay Sam, just calm down…” I took one more, then folded my my wings back down; they simply could not handle this task. I bent my head down and bit the hard plastic in my teeth, my muzzle opened just enough to get the whole thing in a secure grip.         Again satisfied I went back to the site of carnage concerning my coffee mug. Like everything else, I had to plan the motions and work them over in my head for a few moments before actually attempting what I was about to do. Being four-legged, small, and lacking fingers changed absolutely everything. It sucked a lot.         I sighed as I was constantly reminded of this new handicap. Yes, that’s exactly what it was. Part of me felt like I was an old cripple, unable to do things for themselves because of age and injuries.         “Mphell, mphar mph’ain’t mphmphin mphor mphit…” I mumbled around the handle. I blinked as I realized what I just did, and my ears fold as my eyes rolled. I sighed once more.         I bent my head down and swept slowly back and forth while I used my forehooves to steady the dust pan. It worked, but it took forever. Trying to coordinate with my face nearly to the ground proved difficult while sweeping up smashed mug remains. Eventually I got it though, and dumped the broken contents into the trash can, dust pan held in my teeth.         I spat the thing back into the pantry, and kicked the broom in as well -- it clattered loudly, and I realised I kicked too hard. I winced, but didn’t look as I made my way back to the couch. Instead I glanced at my hind hooves, and wondered about that kick I gave Dan. My concern rose again that I might have caused him harm.         “Great…” I sighed yet again. “Now I need to apologize…” I slumped back in the couch.         At least sitting like a human was still feasible, as I draped my hind hooves barely over the edge. The couch now made me feel really small; like I was in a dang dollhouse that had gone through the “honey I shrunk the kids” treatment. I almost felt like I was having a reversed claustrophobia right now… the whole room was huge, felt like it had changed completely… even though I knew that wasn’t true. I was the one that changed.         My thoughts turned back to me, and I brought my eyes down to stare at my new body. The orange fur with small tufts that went in defiant other directions, my newly articulated leg joints. I held a foreleg up and stared at that hoof, and brought it close as I tried to distinguish the leg from the hoof itself. The fur acted like skin, and completely obscured the connection; my foreleg looked smooth and absolutely seamless. Lastly, I had to glance at my crotch.         I was pleasantly surprised that I couldn’t make out much -- not that I wanted to -- due to the fur that coated me. I hummed, and leaned forward to look closer despite my feelings. Even as I ‘checked myself out’ I couldn’t make out all that much. Curiosity got the better of me and I spread a bit more.         Then it hit me. My apprehension, and therefore Ashley’s too, about being naked outside were almost non-existent. If I couldn’t make out hardly anything when I was intentionally doing so, then what chance did random strangers have when they were five feet away or so?         “Well, I guess that’s a good thing…” I chuckled sourly at that statement. It somewhat dawned on me what I had been doing, and my cheeks began to burn. The scruffy brown tail weaved over my midsection again, and instead of being annoyed at it, I clutched the fuzzy thing as security. Even that felt odd to me, clutching at an extra limb that I should not have.         I sighed half depressedly, then decided I needed a distraction. I grabbed the television’s remote in my forehooves and held it while I nosed the power button. The screen flickered on and the familiar scene of the news network greeted me. The male newscaster was still there, as was his newly ponified mare counterpart.         I sat back and listened. They were, of course, still talking about this strange phenomenon of people turning into ponies. They had a rough estimate now that the absolute craziness and confusion was beginning to subside; and the percentage seemed to be about thirteen percent or so on average to a country’s population.         I blinked, then quirked an eyebrow. So, it was around thirteen percent worldwide, or was it thirteen percent according to a country’s population? Before I could ponder it any more, the mare newscaster confirmed with a more down-to-earth explanation; it was the latter.         “Oh…” I said aloud.         “Already there are reports of violence against the newcomers,” the human newscaster announced passively. My ears perked and I sat up, my eyes focused on the screen.         The pink mare gave a grim nod. “Indeed,” she began, then shuffled her papers -- wait, how the hell…? “There have been two accounts of murder in downtown Tucson reported. A middle-aged couple, both ponified, brutally murdered in their home.”         The man gave a similarly grim nod. “Police and other law enforcement are stretched thin and underpowered as of now, but reserve officers are being brought in to follow up on investigating these violent crimes. However, some seem hesitant to even call these crimes ‘homicides’ as the change in species complicates things…” I couldn’t help but notice the flat side glance that the newscaster mare had on her face; the tell-tale signs of skepticism.         I had a very different reaction.         “What the fuck!?” I practically shouted at the TV in rage. “Seriously? Not homicides!?” I barely noticed as my wings poofed out behind me. “So, what, we’re fucking animals now? No different than if a damned dog gets hit by a car? That’s how it’s gonna be?” I growled hatefully with my teeth clenched, and the room felt like it had jumped fifteen degrees in temperature as my ears folded.         I seethed with outrage as I glared at the newscaster. Somewhere in the back of my head I knew it wasn’t his fault -- it was something that the police were saying, I guessed -- and he was simply announcing it. But since I had no arrogant policeman to buck in the face, it would simply have to be enough to send imaginative daggers at him. He caught his partner’s annoyed glance, and seemed to cow a bit.         “Hey,” he started softly. “I’m just announcing it…”         She huffed, but gave a small nod. “I know…”         It was his turn to shuffle his papers, and he gave an awkward cough as he continued the news broadcast. Wisely he chose to change the subject, and gave a passive report on the anomaly in sky; the same thing that had been heard a hundred times -- that the thing was not doing anything that we could detect and that the world’s governments had no new information to release. They also did a quick coverage of some minor earthquakes that had occurred the other day.         I slowly began to calm down as the subject changed, but oh man I was still pissed off about this latest news. Sure, things started off small now… but that’s how all bad things began. The police find brutal murders, and are questioning whether they are technically homicides. I mean come on! This was a no brainer. Of course they were homicides! Those ponies were human only days ago, so why the hell does this change things!         An even darker thought entered my head after that. Could we be facing second-class citizenship soon? The people that had been turned into these pony things? I had little doubt that it would happen in some third world countries… but here? In America? It just… seemed so impossible.         But… could it…?         The troubling idea left me a little numb as the news broadcast continued and moved on, leaving me behind in my turmoiled thoughts.         I sighed heavily once more and slumped against the couch cushion. My outrage had left me, and the vacuum was immediately filled with a cold depression. I knew I was jumping to conclusions, but what if that did happen? I did not want to live as a second class citizen, be thought of as inferior or not-as-good as others. In that moment I started thinking about Martin Luther King Jr. and the African Americans’ struggle for equality.         “Ugh…” I groaned into my forehooves and eyed the ceiling. “What a way to start the day…” I muttered with heavy sarcasm in my tone.         The desire for some fresh air hit me hard, and I hopped off the couch after turning off the depressive television. I grabbed a small neck pouch that Marcus and I improvised the night before, as well as my keys, wallet and cell phone. The door’s lock clicked shut, my studio apartment secured, and I trotted my way outside of my apartment block.         I couldn’t help the small smile as I pushed the glass door open and entered the outside air. One deep lung-full, and I joined the sidewalk with the somewhat loud clip-clop of my hooves. The day was rather cloudy with several of the large puffs dominating the blue sky, and it seemed likely to rain later today or tonight if the darkening gray was any indication.         “Hiya Sam!” I heard a familiar voice to my right, and my head followed suit. Chloe was lounging on the grass with a book underneath a tree, a teal hoof waved in my direction.         My smile grew a bit more, and I made my way over without hesitation. “Hey Chloe,” I greeted. “How have you been?”         When I got closer her smile wanned a bit and she quirked an eyebrow. After a few seconds, mine faded too and I asked. “Um, is something wrong…?”         She blinked, then gestured a hoof at me. “Not with me… with you.”         “Huh?”         “You’re bothered by something,” she stated plainly, but with a tinge of concern.         This time I blinked, followed by my ears folding again. “That obvious, huh?” I said rather downcast. I knew it was obvious and decided to simply drop any act.         She simply nodded, then gestured me to take a seat. With a quiet sigh I laid down next to her. A little ways off, the sound of a kid playing caught my attention. I glanced over and saw not a human boy, but a pony colt bouncing a ball on his face with a wide grin; dark blue coat with a two toned teal and green mane.         A small giggle brought my attention back to Chloe at my side.         “Yours?” I asked, my hoof pointed subtly at the colt.         Chloe burst out laughing as though I had just stated the punchline of the world’s most hilarious joke. I recoiled in surprise, my eyebrow quirked in puzzlement. What was so funny about that?         “No, no, no…” she started with a tone that suggested I was being incredibly silly. “He’s not mine as in son. That’s my little brother; Kevin.”         Oh. “Oh,” I answered back lamely. Well, at least I was kind of close. “So, he lives with you?”         Chloe nodded. “Mhm. Now what’s bothering you, silly filly?”         Silly… filly? Urgh, I mentally face hoofed.         Well there was no harm in telling Chloe, I guess. Besides, I think I kind of needed someone to talk to. I told Chloe about my day yesterday. Shopping with Marcus, his little prank with the shock collar -- that got a generous chuckle out of her -- and what happened when we returned. She immediately grew serious and asked me if Ashley was okay. I assured Chloe that she was, but I expressed my worrisome concern.         Chloe hummed softly for a moment, then rested a hoof on top of my own; my wings fluttered in response and I looked at her. It made my heart skip a beat at her sad gaze; I mean wow, sadness was deadly with these expressive faces. “The best you can do is simply be there for her, Sam.” Chloe gave a nod with her words.         I sighed again, but gave a small smile with a nod. “Yeah, okay…”         Chloe’s bright grin reappeared after that and she stood back up. “Alright then. I have to go shopping for food soon, so I’ll see you later Sam.” The mare grabbed the book in a hoof and tossed it on her back, where it stayed. A miniature me in the back of my head starred in shock with an agape maw. H-how did she do that!?         Before I could ask, she started walking away. She called her brother over and the two of them took off for their own abode, with me left with the question in my muzzle.         Eh, I’ll ask later.         I got back up off the grass and started back towards the apartment when I noticed a familiar chocolate skinned face. I smiled and diverted my trot towards him.         “Hey Marcus, what’s up?”         My friend looked up and waved me over. “Hey, come on, we’re gonna be late.” He beckoned me on faster.         I did so, but I also quirked my eyebrow. “Late? Late for what?” I had a sinking feeling about this.         Marcus shook his head. “Nevermind that, let’s go…”         I wanted to question further, but figured that it would be best just to ask in his car while we were on the way to wherever it was he wanted to go.         Hopefully this will be a better surprise than the news...