//------------------------------// // Blood Diamond // Story: The Original Character Immigration Offices // by TypewriterError //------------------------------// Blood Diamond By Meep the Changeling/url] This place's decorations were some of the dullest and most uninteresting ones I ever had the displeasure of seeing. I understood the O.C.I.O. was run by government employees, but still. The simple paintings of landscapes, the potted plants, and the throw rugs were all so bland. The first thing I would do upon entering this country would be to decorate my home appropriately. A nice wall of black fire around the property line, a skull set into the stonework over the door, soaring Gothic architecture; just the sort of tasteful decor appropriate to a home. None of this, dull, uninspired, vanilla architecture. Honestly, this was a government office and there wasn't even so much as an iron maiden to be seen. How on earth did they keep the peasants in line? I twitched my hoof to summon myself a drink as I pondered the question. My usual drinking glass appeared in a flash of red and black light. I sniffed the contents, smiling at the scent of pleasantly aged blood-wine. A rather distastefully happy green and gray dapple coated pegasus with an orange mane flinched as I took my first sip. “Excuse me,” she asked, “I-is that cup a skull?” “Of course! What better to drink from then... Humm was this one of my enemies?” I turned the chalice in my hoof, inspecting the silver stem for the label, “No label. Must have been one of the early ones. Would you like some?” I held the chalice out towards her, but she did the typical pony thing and recoiled shaking her head furiously. It's like this every time. What is it about sharing that I don't quite understand? “Suit yourself.” I took a sip and went back to my pondering. “Miss, food and drink are not permitted in the lobby.” the mare seated behind the desk suddenly called. “Also you need to sign in.” “Oh,” I banished my chalice back to its pocket dimension, “I see! By forcing immigrants to wait hungry and in thirst you ensure they are miserable upon reaching the interview and thus less able to conceal a lie. That's brilliant! Hold on a moment I need to write this down.” I summoned a quill and paper, quickly scribbling down that gem of an idea before I forgot it. “Er- miss, you still need to sign in.” the receptionist prompted again. Oh yes. I no longer had an entourage to introduce me. I suppose that's one thing I would miss on this little vacation of mine. I stood up and trotted over to the desk, “Very well, how do I sign in?” The receptionist rolled her eyes, took a quill and stack of parchment from her desk. “Name?” “Diamond, Blood Diamond.” I answered, “I have several titles if you also require them.” “Do you have the word diamond in your name twice or-” I facehooved, “I was being dramatic! Seriously, has nopony here heard of me? The Great Silence? Friend to the Unspeakable? Mistress of the Damned? Oh for the love of- Just write down Empress Blood Diamond!” “Ok...” the receptionist droned with a raised eyebrow, scribbling down my name. “You are a unicorn, white fur, tan mane and tail, gold eyes... can you turn so I can see your cutie mark?” I nodded and turned, lifting the hem of my cloak to allow her to see my flank. “... flaming talon crushing a heart.” she muttered as she wrote. “There is an open slot in ten minutes. I'll call you.” I nodded and returned to my seat. There had been something I was pondering before I was interrupted. What had it been? Unable to remember what it had been I retrieved my copy of The Most Common Errors of Evil Overlords and how to Avoid Them and settled in for some light reading. “Miss Diamond, Princess Twilight Sparkle will see you now.” The receptionist called, pointing to one hallway with a hoof. I stood up and trotted down the indicated hall, quickly coming upon a rather new looking door with a brass name-plate labeling it as 'Twilight Sparkle'. “Ugh, brass? You're royalty! Use obsidian or something.” I pushed the door open, my jaw dropping instantly as I saw a lavender alicorn. “I knew mother must have missed a few!” Twilight looked up, alarm and confusion on her face. “I'm sorry, what are you talking about?” “Oh nothing important. Your existence invalidates one of my mother's titles. Good thing too, that mare was far too boastful.” I informed. “Right, and you are?” Twilight asked. “Diamond, Blood Diamond. I have an appointment.” “Oh. Sorry I was expecting someone with your name to be, well red and black.” Twilight pointed to a small chair in front of the desk she was seated at, “Have a seat.” I sat down nodding, “I know. I lament my white coat as well! It completely clashes with my preferred aesthetic. That's why I have my jacket and cloak, I had to get some darker color in there somewhere.” Twilight sighed, her face falling. “Every time anything seems to be vaguely normal..." she muttered to herself. "Right, let's get this over with. What do you intend to do in Equestria?” That was an oddly specific question. “What do I intend to do? Well I plan on spending a full hundred years here. Do you want a summery of everything I might do?” “No, I mean why do you want to come here.” “Ah, that makes more sense. I am looking for a vacation spot.” I informed. “A vacation spot?” Twilight asked a little stunned. “Yes. You are an alicorn, you know how the whole ageless thing goes right? I'm pretty bored with my usual routine, you can only oppress a populous so much before there isn't anything worse to do to them, and then everything is just tediously boring and unsatisfying. So, I got my old friend Hastur to whip everything into a nice paradise, but it's going to take a few decades or so. My adviser suggested I try being good for a while to take a break from the usual, and Hastur wanted me out of his tentacles while he worked and Equestria seems like a place good people live, so here I am!” I gave her a smile as I finished, settling back into my chair a little. Twilight winced a little bit, she lifted a stamp with her magic for a moment but set it down as she released a breath of air. “No, not yet... at least three questions, that's the rule. Er- What would you do for a living?” That was a question I had expected, and one I had a prepared answer for. “I am an accomplished sorcerer. I was planning on selling enchanted items and selling my skills as a mage. I could sell luck charms, restore life to dead pets, and if desired I could teach a few apprentices. At least until some big evil thing comes along, at which point I intend to join up with whatever ragtag band of farmhands and innkeepers' daughters seek to slay the evil. That's what good ponies do right? I've never tried the dance from that side before. It should be fun!” “I almost don't want to ask, but, what exactly dose your cutiemark mean?” Twilight asked hesitantly. “I have no idea to be honest.” I answered truthfully. “No idea?” Twilight exclaimed. “Yes, you see I got my mark in the traditional family way. By entering into a trance state and unleashing our rage upon an unsuspecting populace. I have no idea what specific act earned this particular mark, but I have always been exceptionally good at preparing Grydestegte Hjerter. I suspect I earned it for cooking that particular dish the first time.” I frowned, realizing Twilight may not speak Alragersian, “Sorry, that's a traditional dish. It translates roughly as 'Oven Fried Hearts' which is especially weird because you actually roast them. It's usually served with carrots, brussels sprouts and mashed potatoes but I find it is much better pared with an orphan's-” “Yeah, so, I've heard enough.” Twilight lifted the same stamp she head earlier and slammed it down on the papers. I looked at the red circle with a frown, “Rejected?” “You are clearly unrepentantly evil. We can't allow you to live in Equestria.” Twilight narrowed her eyes glaring at me, “Now get out of here before I get the other Elements and make you leave.” I sighed, “Fine, fine. I suppose I'll try the next country on the list.” I stood up and walked out of her office. A single question filled my mind as I left the O.C.I.O. “Why is being good so hard?”