//------------------------------// // Her City // Story: The Conversion Bureau: A Mare's Tail // by HiddenBrony //------------------------------// Author's Note I don't really do these Author's note bits, but I feel I should make mention of this. A Mare's Tail is an early work of mine, and as such, there are a lot of rookie errors that I might not have caught when I cleaned this up for FiMFiction. Not to mention that the story itself is getting a full rewrite, with new chapters, an alternate ending, and all sorts of goodies. However, that won't be finished for a long time, and I've had people ask me to bring this story up on FiMFiction, so here it is. This is also one of the early works of the Conversion Bureau universe, so we were all stretching our minds for what it all was. The Human Conservation Front(My error in calling it the HLF coincided with others, and our accidents gave rise to the now accepted name of the Human Liberation Front, which doesn't make any gorram sense to me) wasn't really an established entity between fics, and the IHSA was just starting to see use among other fics. Both Yellowstone and LHS were being written alongside Mare's Tail, and you might see call outs and references to each here. But mostly, I had written this story because we had never seen a female protagonist in the series, and at the time when I wrote the first chapter, all of the substantial fictions were self-insert. Except, as it turns out, LMS, and then Yellowstone very shortly after. So at that point TCB kicked off. Mare's Tail was a rather quiet fic, ending to no great fanfare, but it always seemed to hold a #2 spot on many a TCB lovers list, stuck between Yellowstones and LMS's and the occasional Ten Rounds(<3 you Mids). It was enough reason to consider putting up here for FimFic. It's an old fic, so suspend what you know about conventional TCB and enjoy it for what it is. Thanks. ------------------------------------         Violet expelled her breath long and deep, staring up at the ceiling above. Glow in the dark stars speckled her room in the idea of making it more like sleeping outside, but it hadn’t worked it’s magic on her in years. Now they were just familiar - a commodity that had become rare in recent time. Ever since the Conversion Bureau’s opened, nothing was the same - her best friend had run off to them quickly, sending her a letter every day she could - until all that came back one day was a hoof print and a horribly scrawled ‘Come with me!’ that Violet could only guess was written by her now pastel friend.         Slipping sideways off her bed, Violet cast her eyes toward her curtain, bordered by magnificent sunlight that tasted the edges of her window. She casually glanced toward her alarm clock, always ten minutes fast, and instinctively slammed her open palm unto it, the final digit changing the time to nine o’ clock as she hit it, cutting the alarm before it had time to screech out the grinding tones. Taking a deep breath, she idly remarked the air smelled like warm root beer, before realizing that she had left a bottle of the stuff opened near the foot of her breath. Giving it a cautionary glance, she picked up the two liter and drained the rest of the flat liquid.         “Breakfast of Champions,” Violet muttered under her breath. Gathering her courage, she stood up, rubbing the slight muffin top that extended over her pajama bottoms. She had actually been losing weight, but then again it was easier to eat healthy now that most restaurants had cheap and easy food that was somehow more healthy than anything she normally chewed on. As she remarked on her slimming figure, her stomach growled as the soda reached it, obviously unhappy with it’s first meal. “Oh, quiet you. I’ll give you something good in a bit.”         She sighed. A year ago that would have meant Fruit Loops and a muffin. Glancing wistfully toward her curtain, she grabbed the bottom and pulled. Blinding light filled the room, illuminating the cleanly mess she claimed property over. What used to be pizza boxes were now simple cardboard boxes, stuffed with memories and pictures of those who left her behind. Her eyes adjusting to the light, she bent down and picked up a loose rectangle, flipping it over.         Graduation day. There she was, cap and gown, right next to a strong, chiseled young man. To her left were two odd-balls, a short, chubby young man in glasses and the eccentric actor that made up her little group of friends. She closed her eyes, remembering them, their faces, their voices. She could hear Evan’s voice, so unfitting his stocky physique. “I guess I could go into radio, I hear I’m not supposed to sound like how I look!” How apt that was now, she admitted. The anatomically poor man had been one of the frontrunners to the Bureau, his self-confidence had always been held back by his physical shape.         What came out was a blue-gray stallion pegasus that, while a bit wider around the flank, was just as tall as anyone. Or anypony, as the little horses liked to say. Shaking her head mercilessly, she tossed the picture off to the side. The others, like Evan, were all... different now. Looking toward her door, she pushed it open, most places no longer having locks or knobs anymore. It had been replaced before she moved in here - apparently the last tenant had thrown an absolute fit and got himself thrown out, but not before breaking what he could.         The rest of Violet’s apartment was in far contrast to her room. Clean and tidy, one would believe it was almost up for sale. The floor opened up into something spacious, with plenty of room to dance, hop, skip, or jump... none of which Violet would partake in. Not without someone else. The sound of her apartment was deafening to her - this silence all encompassing. Not a knock or a slam or the muffled arguments of a family could be heard anywhere beyond her walls. Violet stomped her foot loudly, as was her custom, and waited for a response that never came.                  -----         A month ago, she had a meeting with the other tenants. It happened on a foggy day that was just like any other. An old couple named Judy and Harold, an eccentric music man named Alfred, and the superintendent. When she arrived into the room, she had been taken aback slightly - not to see so few people, but rather - so many! They sat comfortably in their own ways, Judy and Harold sat pleasantly in their chairs, while Alfred sat on a table, using a chair as a footrest and a wall as his leaning apparatus. The super merely sat behind an important looking chair, his mustache unkempt and his old, gray hair scruffy from weeks of ignoring simple brushing techniques.         “Ooohhh...” chided the old maid. Violet spun to look at her, and could see the woman was analyzing her and forming her own opinions. Judy looked nice enough, her blue sundress was ironed just so that it seemed she stepped off the set an old film. Violet felt hot under the collar being examined, and quickly made her way behind a table to keep herself from being fully watched, as if the oak table could save her from the old marm’s opinion.         “Well, would you look at that, another one joins us in ‘high society’!” Laughed the music man, his polka dot shirt unbuttoned and revealing an extremely hairy chest. It wasn’t hard to avert her eyes from anything but his wild expression, but as she gave it more scrutiny, she could see he meant no harm. “Hey super, when you said we had another tenant I thought you were finally letting ponies in.” Leaning his head forward, Alfred slipped his hands behind him and replaced his head against the wall. “Maybe I’d have some neeeeeiiiiigh-bors.” The pun was awful, but Violet could hear a chuckle emanate from the old couple.         The superintendent shook his head, but soon leaned forward. “No...” he breathed. Even from here, the sour stench of alcohol hung on his lips. “This is my building. No goddammed ponies will be in my building. It was built for humans, for fuck’s sake,” he cursed, slamming a fist against the table, a loud snap could be heard from the maple desk, but the super paid it no mind. “And it’ll stay that way ‘till my fuckin’ last breath.”         Violet shifted uncomfortably. She always did around anyone angry - it didn’t even have to be at her. She never watched movies with angry people, either. The idea of hate for hate’s sake. Violet eyed the superintendent’s vest a moment. Adorned on it was something that took her breath away as suddenly as a lightning strike. The seal of the HLF. She had heard about them from the news and radio reports on her commutes to work, how they claimed to want to save the humans from the ponies and denied any radical involvement from attacks on pony kind. While Violet was certain not all of them were primarily evil, or hate filled, or whatever... She knew that kind rage at the mere mention of the new sentient race was enough to send a shiver down her spine. “Hey, you, Viola or whatever.” The superintendent spat, saliva and alcohol spraying over his desk. “You lookin’ at my badge?” he challenged. A strange look adorned his vision as he looked at her up and down. “Violet,” she corrected, trying to keep her cool. “And no, not really. Caught my eye for a second,” she lied, mentally berating herself for staring like a deer in the headlights. Her mind wandered against her will, wondering if the man before her tried to do that with any ponies, but she banished the idea as the superintendent stood up suddenly, causing her to jump slightly. He wasn’t a large man, as it turned out. To be honest, she had only come over to the building from phone calls, and he seemed so happy to hear from her. But now - he seemed dangerous. Still, his less imposing size littled him in front of Violet. Calming her nerves, she let herself meet his gaze unassumingly, if only for a moment. “Hey now, Freddie, calm down, we’re cool with ya,” Alfred chuckled, switching his feet around on the chair. Harold seemed to be more interested in what little was happening outside of the window. With such contrasts over the room, Violet didn’t know what to expect, but to her appeasement the super sat back down, huffing slightly. “Fuckin’ pony-lovin’ bitch,” he swore, eliciting an eye-roll from the young woman. It was just like her father, really. “But yer human, so I guess it counts for something.” He coughed, lightly at first, but it quickly devolved into huge gasps followed by whooping coughs. It escalated so quickly that Violet didn’t realize it when Alfred jumped to his feet, running over to Fred and trying to help him calm down. “Geddawayfrome!” the super shouted, before coughing harder. Harold continued to stare out into the city, his gaze fixed on a floating pegasus, mailbags strapped to it’s side as it flew overhead. Violet stood up slowly, heading to the phone cautiously. As soon as Fred’s cough turned to a hack, and blood started to mix with his spit, she made the call. ----- Judy and Harold left after that, and Alfred stayed with Fred for awhile before he died of complications. Apparently years of smoking and other nasty habits had nearly torn his lungs apart, and the culmination had finally broken down and taken his body. After that Alfred and Violet spent every other day just reminiscing on old times, what lives they had led before the escape of ponyism took away their dying world. Now it was silent, even in this high rise apartment, where only the wealthiest of people could have lived. It no longer creaked and groaned with life. She used to stomp her foot hard against the ground, the music man responding in kind, to give the place some semblance of life - but that had stopped a week ago. Her whole building seemed to have stopped. Violet stared out at her city. Albuquerque used to be so beautiful to her, but now most of the buildings seemed vacant. The lifeless eyes of her city stared at her in her tower of man. Walking over to a sliding glass door, she stepped out into the open air, taking in the smells of her city. It was different now - so very different. The sounds of motorists were faint if not nonexistent. At least I’m human. For whatever that’s worth. She scanned the city, specks of pastel pegasus dotting the skies as they played or worked from what she could see through a fog. Some were simply enjoying the wind beneath their wings as they cruised the cityscape, leaving Violet with an empty feeling that matched her city. Turning, she made for the inside of her home. “Down bellloooowww!” cried a voice, causing the pajama-clad girl to whip violently around to see a clumsy pegasi fluttering about, trying to get the hang of descending. Violet looked wildly about, trying to find something to help the pegasus’ landing, but her balcony had been bare since she moved in - the idea of enjoying her city had fallen through once she had felt it stare back at her. Rushing to find an aid, she didn’t get very far before the full force of pony collided with her back as they rolled through her door and into the padded carpeting of her home. It took a moment for Violet to react further, feathers strewn about and hanging from her untidy hair, she rubbed her nose slightly as her mind focused on what happened. “Total wipeout.” the pegasus whined, causing Violet’s mind to sharpen. Spinning around, she stared down the pegasus, hands on her hips as she gave him a look that could freeze time. “Just what the hell do you think you’re doing?!” she screamed, pointing toward the door. “Get the hell outta my home before I rip your feathers off and punt you off my balcony!” Violet threatened, her mind not going over the logistics on how that might not exactly work. She was pissed - and she had every right to be. “Whooooa, girly.” Ignoring the seething human, the orange pegasus laughed, getting up on four hooves, a smile playing on his expression. The way his hooves hit the carpet made a lovely swooshing sound that Violet decided to ignore. “No need to get uppity with me.” “Get. Out.” Violet punctuated her command by taking a, hopefully, threatening step forward.         The stallion laughed slightly, which hit a chord with Violet. It seemed familiar. Catching sight of the wild expression, the gears in her head started to crank into motion. Slamming a hoof against the ground, it reverberated the apartment slightly as he cracked a smile. “Come on, Violet, I’m still new to the whole flying thing!”         “Al...” she breathed, slamming a hand to her forehead. The pony in question spun around on four hooves a couple times, as if proudly displaying himself like a model. His tail swooshed around every which way, but what was probably the most striking feature was his mane, which like his human self, was full of curls and unkempt strands sticking out at odd angles.         “Look, Violet, I didn’t mean to crash into ya like this, but I couldn’t get into my apartment through my window and and... Well, the scanners outside don’t let me in,” he muttered sheepishly. Violet kept her stare on as she briefly considered if a pony could be a sheep, but realized a person could give a sheepish look, so a pony could too. “I’m kinda surprised you’re still here though, I woulda thought after my note-”         Violet’s eyes widened slightly. “Note?” she echoed.         Alfred turned his head slightly before continuing. “Yeah, V, my note. I stuck it on my door before leaving for the camp - didn’t you check?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. Violet looked a bit sheepish - which really just proved her earlier assumption - as she shook her head. “You didn’t check.” he said, his voice deadpan.         “Hey now, you could have stuck it on my door!” she defended, pointing to the door to her apartment as she did. “You stopped responding in the morning, so I thought you just plain left after Fred died, Alfred! You two were friends, or something!” Waving her hands about wildly, Alfred followed her fingers, raising a hoof and inspecting it thoughtfully. “You’re not even listening!” she cried, once again slamming a palm against her face.         “What? Oh, yes I was. Sorta. Look.” Flapping his wings a couple times, he made a gesture with his hooves that cut the line of thought before landing on his hooves again. “I shoulda come by and told ya, but I wasn’t even sure I was going to go through with it. But when I got there - guess who I saw?”         Violet raised an eyebrow, shaking her head and shrugging. “I dunno, Al, who did you see?”         “Harold and Judy! And Harold was as lucid as can be!” Alfred exclaimed, hoping a bit on his hooves. Violet looked taken aback - she hadn’t really noticed that Harold wasn’t all there - just quiet. She didn’t know any of the tenants, really, before the meeting... or after. Except Alfred, really. “We shot the shit for a bit and they convinced me to give it a try-”         “A try? There’s no going back from being a pony, Al. There’s only doing and not doing. And you most certainly did!” Violet’s outburst surprised even her, and her hand moved from her forehead to her mouth, before shaking violently. “I’m- I’m sorry. I don’t know where that came from. This is just... well, I thought I wasn’t gonna see anyone I knew again,” she admitted, working her way over to the couch. She sat there awhile, Alfred looking her over a bit before walking to the edge of the furniture and sitting on his haunches. “Are they coming back here too? Harold and Judy. Now that Fred, y’know...”         The orange pony shook his head. “Nah, they mentioned about heading to their summer home and picking up some things. Pictures or something like that. Then they’re heading off to Equestria.” He said sadly, shaking his mane.         Violet looked up, having been cradling her head in her hands. “Is that what you are here to do, too?” She sniffed. She hadn’t expected this to hit her like it did. Her friends had left to tears, sure, but it always got easier. These were people she barely knew, and now... Now it hurt all over again. “Are you just pick up your stuff and... leave?” she choked out, trying to regain herself. It wasn’t working.         Al shook his head sadly. There was no use lying about it. Gathering herself into a straight face, Violet nodded slowly, her neck stiff. “Alright then.” She shot to her feet, Al calling after her to wait a moment. Ignoring him, she made for the door, opening it and looking back. “Come on, you aren’t going to be able to open the damn door without me.” Her voice like stone, Al sighed and followed behind.         -----         Her arms were crossed, but they were grasping at her sides like a tight hug. Violet watched Alfred go about slowly, pulling out a pair of saddlebags he had bought prior to ponification. “Bullshit...” Violet coughed. There was no letter on the door when she got there, although the pegasi had flown ahead. Al was going to get ponified the moment he left. He must of been. Sniffing as softly as she could, she still caught the attention of Alfred, who shook his head sadly, wishing she would just leave him now - but to be honest he’d be trapped in his own apartment if she closed the door behind her, so he endured her cold stare. As he went about moving things, he found himself caring less and less for things he thought he couldn’t live without, but still he nabbed a few pictures off the shelf, for sentimental value. Doing so earned a scoff from Violet, and Alfred sighed.         “I... am sorry, V. For not telling you upfront,” he confessed, placing what he believed to be his final item in the saddlebag. “I just...”         “Save it, Alfred. You wanted to be a pony, and you didn’t care about some girl in the floor above you.” Her voice was ice, Alfred wincing as she spoke. “Are you finished yet? I’d like to get back home.” Violet’s cold look sent a shiver down Al’s spine. The pegasus merely nodded slowly, then turned to his saddlebags, eyeing them. Stick his nose through, he attempted to move himself into the bags, but found himself with some difficulty. Slamming his hoof down, he tussled and wrestled with the bags until he found himself on his back, his wings and tail completely tangled. Struggling for a bit, he found he had somehow got two hooves stuck in one of the straps and had pulled the strap tight around them, severely limiting his movement and, in all essences, gotten stuck. “Wha?” he breathed, flailing his wing around in an attempt to swing himself around. “Oh crimany.” Violet looked on in amusement as the orange pony rattled against the ground, the sounds of him hitting the floor resonating in her ears. Closing her eyes, she stomped a foot down on the ground in unconscious response. Alfred paused, swiveling his neck around to view Violet, whose frigid expression had melted to that of a content smile. After a moment’s hesitation, he lay against the ground, lifting his good back hoof up, supporting his weight, before crashing his flank on the ground again with a dull thump. Violet slammed the ground a second time with her feet. And thus he did again, and she stomped again. They did that routine for close to five minutes, simply hitting their bodies against the ground, tears of merriment raining down from Violet’s closed eyes. Finally Alfred fell to the ground in a slump, his leg too tired and his flank too bruised to continue. Opening her eyes, Violet could see the poor colt heaving tiredly from the effort, and smiled warmly. Walking over to him, she tutted mockingly. “How will you ever survive in Equestria? You can’t fly, you can’t dress yourself, you can’t even stand up right!” she laughed once, before dissolving into a giggling fit as she knelt down to Alfred, helping untangle the pony from his trap. A low chuckle escaped from Alfred as he lay his head on the ground. “Yeah. But I can make people laugh.” Violet took a moment, leaning looking over at Alfred’s face. A couple tears rolled down his face as a large, closed smile was pressed on his equine features.         Pulling a strap back, Alfred felt his hooves free, and Violet extracted the saddlebags. As she did, an envelope fell out the side, causing the woman to lean over and pick it up. “Now what’s this...?” she said, raising it up for Alfred to see. “To Violet. Ah, your letter to me! I got a letter!” she sang, giving Alfred an unreadable look.         “Well, it’s nothing much, Violet, I’m here right now so I can tell you the contents of it easily. You can trash the gosh darn thing right away-” Silenced by a rip in the paper, Violet did the opposite as she was told as she extracted the letter. Alfred winced visibly as she unfolded one third of it, causing her to look at him with amusement.         “Why, Alfred, I could say that you don’t want me to read it now,” she teased, before folding it back. He nodded slowly, his cheeks blushing madly. Sensing it was a fairly personal letter, she decided it could wait - people always tended to do weird things before making a massive change in their life. In Alfred’s case, it was becoming a three foot tall pegasus. “Well alright, but I’m keeping my hands on it,” she informed, opening up her shirt and sticking it between her skin and bra. “Where you won’t dare reach for it with your only working appendage,” she mentioned, chattering her teeth to prove a point.         “Yeesh, alright!” Alfred cried, his orange color turning a pink shade along his muzzle. However, his thoughts were interrupted as once again Violet’s hands were on him, this time setting the saddlebags on straight. “Oh! Ahem. Well, thanks,” he muttered, wincing as she pressed against his bruised flank.         “No problem. Nice cutie mark, by the way, I didn’t notice it before. Suits you,” she mentioned idly, tightening the last strap. However, as she didn’t have time to actually let go of it before it was ripped from her hand as the colt was currently spinning in place violently. “My cutie mark?!” he exclaimed, craning his neck. “Confound these wings! What’s it look like!?” Violet merely sat back, shaking her head. “It’s a sign from theater,” she mentioned, giving it a poke as he passed by, which caused him to yelp and jump straight up and down. “Whoops, sorry. Anyway, there are generally two plays, tragedy and comedy. You, sir Alfred, have comedy plastered on your ass!” she laughed, shaking her head. “Which really, tragedy would have fit just as well.” Teasing Alfred sent Violet into another giggling fit, much to Alfred’s displeasure. He looked back at his mark, this time moving his wing out of the way. There it was, wrapped with ribbon around it, was the image for a smiling face - which looked just fine, stylized like an equine. Allowing Violet finish her much needed giggles, he let her pick herself up and dust off her pants. “Thank you, Violet,” he said simply, before gesturing toward the door with his hoof. “After you.” Violet turned toward the door, and then back to her friend, waving her arms in a ‘no way’ fashion. “You forgot your other saddlebag. You’ve only got the one on,” she said, gesturing toward the empty bag in the corner. Alfred turned to look at it, and shrugged. “I didn’t get it for me,” he said simply, trotting out the door. Violet looked blankly on for a moment, before dawning came over her features. Jogging over, she picked up the saddlebag and slung it over her shoulder, unsure of what to do with it. Maybe she would need it down the line, but first she was going to go beat Alfred for such a cheesy line. ----- “So, now that I have a matching bruise...” Alfred glared at the amused woman who sat at her kitchen counter. “I think it’s time to take my leave.” A cold wind filled the room from the open glass door, echoing his finality. The smile started to fade from Violet’s face. Looking at the pegasus pony, she nodded slowly. “Well...” he began, as if he didn’t know where to end. “What’s your name?” she asked. “I’m sorry?” Alfred asked, taken aback. Violet rolled her eyes. “Your pony name. Almost everypony I’ve talked to changed their name to something whimsical. Not many ponies native to Equestria are gonna react well to a pegasus named Alfred.” Regretfully, the pegasus shrugged his shoulders. “I haven’t given it any thought.” Tilting his head, the pony’s face brightened. “How about ‘Mousse’? I love that stuff.” Violet’s eyes feel to half-moons as she gave the orange pegasus a once over. “Aaaaah - alright then, how about, um...” “Chuckles,” Violet blurted, “you got the laughing thing there, and it’ll let you revert to Chuck. It’s a far cry from Alfred, sure, but you got something normal to your ears,” She argued. “Chuckles,” he echoed, dead pan. “Chuckles. Really.” His face melted, though, as he kept saying it. “Chuckles. Chuck-les. Well alrighty, Mr. Chuckles.” Breaking out in a smile, he applauded his hooves along the ground. “I guess I’m Chuckles again.” The pegasus nodded his head to the idea. “Yeah, but you’re Alfred while you’re here. Speaking of Alfred...” She produced the letter that was addressed to her. “An Alfred gave me this here letter. Now I wonder what it says...” Looking up, Alfred read her face, a look of fear spreading on his own. “AHEM!” she shouted. “DEAR VIOLET!” she warned, looking from the letter to the pegasus, but the pony in question had already bolted, a speck along the city skyline. Placing the letter down, she walked toward the glass shutter, sliding it closed as she saw the pegasi dot the sky. “Heh. See ya, Chuckles.” Violet saw her city once more, looking at it differently than she had previous. Her city was dead. But the signs of life she was looking for where all wrong to what was in front of her. It wasn’t her city. Closing her eyes, she nodded in affirmation. This city lived. Differently now, but it was alive all the same. Lowering her head, a small smile crept on her features as she slammed her leg against the ground one last time, letting the silence of the action rain down on her. A tear rolling down her face, she walked back to the table picking up the letter. She gave it a quick look, before standing up and stretching. Looking out the large plate glass windows, her smiled grew. Turning, she raised the letter up to her face to read as she approached her door, opened it, and took off into the clear, sunny day. Her saddlebag draped across her shoulders.