//------------------------------// // 22. Your Public Awaits // Story: Destinies // by Sharp Quill //------------------------------// “There’s about twenty… twenty-five minutes remaining,” the moderator said, as he looked at the wall clock at the back of the standing-room-only auditorium. “Let’s open the floor to questions.” Meg wasn’t sure how many were packed in, but it had to be at least a thousand bronies. Long lines were already growing behind the two microphones, one for each aisle. They were all here to see the first person—and, to date, one of only two—to have been ponified. Who knew how many were watching the live streaming video over the Internet? What questions would they ask? Try as she might, she couldn’t completely suppress the slight nervous twitching of her wings. At least the interview portion was well enough received. Everyone ate up her descriptions of Equestria and the ponies as they actually existed, as opposed to how the cartoon portrayed them. On the large projection screen above them was still displayed the photo of her and Twilight posing in front of the Tree of Harmony, now washed out from the lights having been turned back up. The moderator examined both lines, and decided they were long enough. “We’ll start with the filly on the right,” he said, pointing at a young girl, maybe nine, wearing a Fluttershy t-shirt. “Then we’ll alternate microphones.” The microphone was lowered by a gopher, though it couldn’t go quite low enough. The little girl gave the helpful volunteer a smile as she stretched on her toes to put her mouth up to the microphone. Looking at the orchid pegasus, awkwardly seated on a folding chair next to the moderator, she asked, “Do you have a cutie mark when you’re human?” What a nice simple question to start with, Meg thought, relaxing a bit. And it had a nice simple answer, too. “No, I don’t. But even when I’m human, I still feel that it’s my cutie mark, a part of who I am.” It will all be over before she knew it, if they were all this nice and simple. As the little girl turned around and went back to her seat, accompanied by who Meg assumed was her mother, the moderator pointed at the young adult man standing in front of the other microphone. He wasn’t wearing any sort of costume or t-shirt, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t a passionate brony. “When will we be able to meet the ponies from the cartoon?” he forcefully asked, his mouth a little too close to the mic. Meg found she had no answer to give him. That didn’t seem right. Shouldn’t the other ponies be at this convention? She had no clue as to their present whereabouts, nor could she recall any decision having been made regarding their attendance. That was disquieting, to say the least. The man was staring at her, waiting for an answer. She had to say something. All she could do was give as vague and noncommittal a response as possible. Fortunately, the question itself was a clue: if the ponies had been scheduled to appear on a panel, this fellow would have known about it. “They weren’t able to come to this convention, but hopefully they’ll appear at a future convention.” It was a lousy answer, but what else could she say? He turned around and walked away from the mic, clearly not happy with that answer, but at least accepting it was the best he was going to get. A woman at the other mic got the go-ahead. “Can you drive a car?” she asked. “Sure, when I have hands.” That got some light laughter. “With this—” she held up a hoof “—I haven’t actually tried, but I can’t see how, really. My legs are too short to reach the pedals. Maybe if I was a unicorn and had telekinesis.” Putting her hoof back down, she smirkily added, “But why drive when I can fly?” Her wings flared momentarily for emphasis, eliciting laughter and scattered applause. A teenaged girl wearing a Luna hat was next. “Could you explain why the princesses didn’t do anything about that frozen cloud at the Equestria Games,” she said in an annoyed tone. “We saw Twilight use magic earlier.” Someone had to ask that. Once she had wondered the same thing; and while Rainbow Dash finally had explain what had happened, it was on the condition that they not reveal it to other humans. How to let her down gently… “It’s true the princesses did not have the unicorn magic disabling spell imposed on them.” The teenager adjusted her hat, as she realized there was a “but” coming. “But I’m afraid that’s all I can say about that,” the pegasus concluded with a sheepish grin. Discontented murmuring spread throughout the room. “Come on, everypony,” the moderator chided them, “you can’t expect the ponies to let us know everything.” He pointed to the other mic. “The girl in the Twilight wig, you’re next.” Not just a mane, it also included a very nice set of pony ears and a horn—rather fancy for a girl who couldn’t be more than eight. Her father removed the microphone from the stand and held it in front of her. “Why are you naked?” Meg blinked. Did she just ask that? She scanned the audience, but found no indication that anyone thought it odd a little girl just asked that. Maybe she was overreacting. Ponies did wear clothing for special occasions, and perhaps she thought this qualified. “As you know from the cartoon, ponies don’t usually wear clothing,” she said, hoping that would satisfy her. It apparently did. As the child and her father returned to their seats, a middle-aged woman in an full-body Applejack costume, one that she probably made herself, asked her question. “Have you shipped with any of the canon ponies?” Meg’s jaw dropped. Hadn’t she mentioned that the only other person to be ponified was her husband? “No,” she bluntly said. The woman gave a “well, excuse me” shrug and left. The moderator pointed at a twenty-something guy at the other mic. “Is Rainbow Dash a lesbian?” All Meg could do was stare at him, dumbfounded. What the hell is going on? Once more her eyes scanned the audience, and, again, no one else seemed to think the question was out of line. She glanced at the moderator, who seemed utterly unconcerned. She didn’t want to make a scene, not when the whole thing was both being recorded and broadcast live to the world; regardless, she had no intention of answering questions like that—even if she knew the answer, which she didn’t. It was none of her business. It certainly was none of theirs. The voice actors had a way of avoiding questions they weren’t supposed to answer. What was it? She knew what it was… oh yeah… “Look!” she said, pointing in some random direction. “There’s a moose!” He was still at the mic, unimpressed. “Are you saying that an unaired episode of a cartoon aimed at little girls is going to explore Rainbow Dash’s sexuality?” Wait, what? After blinking a few times, she replied, “No, I’m not saying that, or anything. I have nothing to do with the cartoon.” Her frustration growing, she dismissed him. “Next question.” He wouldn’t go away; having sensed blood in the water, he went in for the kill. “But you have experienced the events in Equestria those unaired episodes will cover, have you not?” Not necessarily… not yet anyway, but she wasn’t going to open that can of worms. “No comment,” she said with uncompromising finality. He finally took the hint and relinquished the microphone. “Is there any shipping amongst the Mane Six?” asked someone at the other mic. Really, people? To buy some time, she grabbed a plastic bottle of water with her hoof and brought it to her mouth for a drink. Even though it wasn’t the first time she’d done that, the audience couldn’t get enough of seeing a pony actually hold something with a hoof. She put the bottle back on the table and looked straight into his eyes. “Moose.” He immediately took the hint. Next up was a college age woman. “Which do you prefer: ‘doing it’ as a human or as a pony?” Meg couldn’t help gaping at her. This was simply unacceptable. How could she think that was an reasonable question. Why was no one objecting? On the contrary, the audience was eating up the innuendo, like drunk frat boys, eagerly awaiting her answer. Her only consolation was that some idiot was standing right in front of the camera, blocking the world’s view of her slack-jawed expression. She found her voice. “Next question,” she rebuked. Scattered boos and hisses came from the audience. Well, tough. “How do we know you aren’t a changeling?” How do I know this entire audience aren’t changelings? she wanted to retort. That would make more sense than this nonsense. There would then be a motive behind these offensive questions: to fatten her up for a meal. No question it was effective—assuming changelings could feed off of emotions other than love. She considered giving a sarcastic “you don’t,” but figured that wasn’t fair to the rest of the viewing world. They were suffering enough as it was, what with that guy still standing in front of the camera—why doesn’t someone do something about that? Having decided on giving a real answer, she said, “Because changelings can have no interest in a world that lacks magic. It would not be possible for them to change forms or to feed.” Could they even feed off of non-magical creatures, even in Equestria? She hoped she never had the opportunity to find out. “How did you feel when Discord dressed up as Santa Clause and gave you those presents, right after you became ponies?” It was another girl, pre-teen, dressed up as Apple Bloom. Meg blinked some more. It was becoming a bad habit. “How could you possibly know about that?” She hadn’t mentioned Discord at all. “It was on the season five animatic preview Hasbro posted on youtube,” ‘Apple Bloom’ patiently explained. A horrible sinking feeling welled up in her stomach. She was going to be in the cartoon. Who else? Steve? Obviously; he was present at their ponification. Susie? Shouldn’t they have contacted us first? Get some kind of release? Wouldn’t their lawyers have insisted on it? A shudder went through her. What if they thought we were as fictional as Twilight? But don’t they now know she’s real? They’re watching this right now, aren’t they? And why didn’t I already know about this youtube video? The more Meg thought about it, the less sense it made. At least that was an event that had already happened—no time loop, yet. She needed to talk to Twilight about this ASAP—if only she knew where the hay she was. The girl was looking at her expectantly. “Like he was truly reformed,” she said without a whole lot of conviction. What did they expect her to say? A military-looking brony in a Discord t-shirt—what perfect timing—adjusted the mic way up. He was quite the hunk, or at least she assumed she would have thought so if she hadn’t been the wrong species at that moment. “First it was alicorn Twilight,” he bluntly stated, “then it was Rainbow Power and that castle. Is your addition to the cartoon the final nail in the coffin?” As if she was responsible for or had any control over any of that. Yet what was most irritating was the premise behind that question, that it was just a work of fiction, a work driven by less than pure motives. Hadn’t she made it clear it was real? The evidence suggested otherwise. A quick glance towards the back revealed—finally!—that the world would have an unobstructed view of her clarification. “I know some of these things haven’t been popular, but you have to understand they actually happened. Twilight is an alicorn princess; I know, I’ve met her. That castle exists; I’ve been inside it. I’ve seen—experienced—their Rainbow Power forms. Their reality does not care how popular it is over here. Their lives will continue just fine when the cartoon finally ends, as one day it will.” Her speech did not go down well with a sizable minority of the audience. Too bad. It’s reality; deal with it. Next up, a teenaged boy. “Since you are now part of the cartoon, and I’m talking to you right now, does this mean I’ll be in a future episode?” She mentally face-hoofed. “The writers panel is in a few hours,” she tried to say without sarcasm. “Why don’t you go ask them?” How much longer do I have to put up with this? Oh great, a different idiot is standing in front of the camera. “Have you met the voice actor who plays you in the cartoon?” There would have to be one, wouldn’t there? They certainly didn’t hire her to play herself! “No. I didn’t even know I was in the cartoon until just now.” Probably sounds exactly like me, too. An older brony steps up to the mic. “How do you report your Equestrian income on your income tax returns?” Meg blinked yet again. She hadn’t thought of that before. All income had to be reported, regardless of where it was earned. What was she supposed to use for an exchange rate? “I’m waiting for the IRS to issue regulations on reporting income from other universes,” she punted, praying an IRS agent wasn’t watching. Great. My destiny now includes an audit. “In that preview clip, you weren’t even aware at first you had become a pony. Are we supposed to buy that? Was it animatic limitations, or just bad writing?” “Look at that moose.” What was the point in giving the honest truth? The questions seemed to come with increasing rapidity, one after another, like widgets coming off an ever faster conveyer belt. “Are you worried that the government will capture you, take you to Area 51, and experiment on you?” She tried her best to avoid rolling her eyes and treat the question seriously. “That would not be constructive in establishing relations with Equestria.” “Does Celestia plan on establishing Conversion Bureaus?” The changeling audience hypothesis was becoming disturbingly plausible. This utterly insane question was resonating with a lot of other people; some seemed to hope it was true! “No magic here, remember? And what little that can be brought over can’t turn people into ponies.” She gave a knowing smile. “Trust me on that one.” “As you were new at the whole pegasus thing, how could you possibly fly well enough to pass Cloudsdale’s flying test, thus avoiding the Rainbow Factory?” The pegasus stared at the man for a few seconds, grim faced. “I couldn’t,” she said with dripping sarcasm. “Oh, look, a moose. Next question.” The questioner opened his mouth, about to point out the absurdity of that answer, but then thought better of it and left. Meg wondered if something illegal was being pumped in from the air vents. Granted, she didn’t seem to be affected by it, but maybe it didn’t affect ponies. Okay, that was stupid, but what other logical explanation was there? At least the viewers on the Internet wouldn’t be affected, and at this point they were the only reason for her to continue this farce. As she was pondering that, the microphone was being lowered for yet another little girl. There seemed to be a large number of them today for some reason. Whatever, at least her question should be refreshingly innocent. Probably. The mic stand didn’t go that low, so the gopher took the mic off—wait, didn’t he have to do that once already, so why did he even bother trying to lower the stand?—and, crouching, held it in front of the child’s face. Her mouth opened, but no words came out; she was too nervous. “Go ahead, don’t be nervous,” Meg said encouragingly. And please let it be a nice, simple question! The little girl brushed the mane from her Fluttershy wig out of her eyes as she worked up her courage. “Did you… um… try one of Pinkie Pie’s… special cupcakes?” Meg stared at the child, unable to even blink. What is wrong with these people? Who would let a little girl read something like that!? Or read it to her. Or whatever. Illegal airborne substances in the auditorium couldn’t explain that one. Somehow she managed to break her eyes from the child and once more scan the audience. No reaction. Everyone was waiting for her to answer that question, as if she had merely been asked to state her favorite color. She looked to her side, to demand that the moderator do something about it, about all of this, only to discover he was gone. When did he leave? Come to think of it, he had stopped managing the flow of questions some time ago. How could she not have noticed? She looked up to the camera broadcasting this to the world. Screw it. They saw what was happening. No one would blame her. Enough was enough. Meg invoked the return spell. Nothing happened. The little girl continued to look at her with those innocent eyes, wanting to know if she ever had a cupcake made with a less than innocent ingredient. Meg repeated the return spell, being extra careful to get it right. Nothing happened. Her heart started racing. Fortunately, there was more than one way to get out of that loony bin. She lifted her wings high and forced them down hard. She remained seated in her chair. Her heart was now pounding like a jackhammer. How could I’ve run out of magic? What about the failsafe? She knew the failsafe worked; Rainbow Dash had proved it, if unintentionally. Fine, she would gallop out of there. Her legs wouldn’t move. “What is going on here!” she screamed. “The kid asked you a question,” someone from the audience shouted back. “Answer it already.” That was followed by murmurs of agreement spreading across the room like a wildfire. The little girl was still there, patiently waiting with those innocent eyes. A different voice spoke, not from the audience, her left ear swiveling to lock in on it. “You are having a nightmare.” Where have I heard that voice before? Meg jerked her head to the source of those words and saw Princess Luna standing far off to the side. As that statement of fact registered, relief flooded over her. It’s only a dream. She hopped off the chair onto the floor, her legs now working just fine, and trotted over to the Princess of the Night. Luna gave her a warm smile. “Twilight had asked me to keep an eye on you tonight, in light of the events of the preceding day. Her concerns were well-founded, it would appear.” The alicorn’s starry mane flowed in a cosmic stream, looking quite out of place here on stage in an auditorium filled with over a thousand humans. Meg wasn’t sure how to take that. On the one hoof, she certainly appreciated being rescued from this nightmare; but on the other hoof, what about all the other dreams she had that night, the ones she couldn’t remember? What might Luna have observed? Nightmares were unpleasant, but they weren’t exactly life-threatening. There was only one to way to find out, as awkward as it might be, and that was to look a gift horse in the mouth. “Have you been watching all of my dreams tonight?” “That was not necessary,” Luna said, reassuring her. “I can sense when a dream is about to turn dark. I’ve been here only since the start of the questions. I did not intervene sooner because these are fears that you must confront.” Meg looked at the people. They were all just patiently waiting, even the ones standing in line, as if this was just a scheduled intermission or something, apparently unaware that she was talking to an alicorn princess. Even the ones dressed up as Luna were oblivious to her actual presence. The fears I must confront. She slowly walked back, in front of the tables, looking out over the becalmed sea of bronies. Obviously, even without Luna’s intervention she would still have awoken eventually, but what if only to experience this all over again the following night? Well, she did help Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo with their nightmares. But which fears, precisely? She considered the little girl, still waiting for her answer, not in the least bit bothered standing in one place all this time. Certainly not being asked about absurd grimdark scenarios, or even about the sex life of ponies. She turned around and walked back to the princess. Might as well start at the top. Besides, the subject of this particular dream did concern the princesses. Sitting down on her haunches, she began explaining. “Let me start with where we are. This is a brony convention, where fans of the cartoon gather to experience their shared joy in all things Equestrian. They get to meet the script writers, voice actors, and buy lots of pony-related merchandise. As you can see, many of them even dress up as ponies from the cartoon, yourself included.” Luna nodded, seeing for herself that last point. “It would make perfect sense for me to introduce the reality of Equestria at a convention like this. Many of these people would like it all to be real. They’d want nothing more than to meet Twilight and the others in the flesh, yourself included. I’m a volunteer at a convention like this, so I can even help make it happen. I can see many challenges in pulling it off successfully, but once done, all of humanity would have to accept that you are real, not merely fictional characters.” Meg again looked at the audience, all of whom were still ignoring their conversation. They were all just sitting or standing, doing nothing but occasionally blinking or shifting weight from one foot to another. It was surreal how they were all put on pause, as if waiting for someone to press play. “It’s not those questions that I fear. Most would never be asked in reality, or tolerated if they were.” She paused for a moment, then continued in a near whisper. “It what comes after… this,” she said, waving a hoof at the audience, “that terrifies me. My life as I know it would be gone. I’d become a very public figure, maybe even a celebrity, with no privacy to speak of. Too many to count would try to get something from me… entry to Equestria, access to famous ponies, including you princesses. A few may use less than scrupulous means to persuade me to get them what they want. Those who fear or hate you will find me a convenient target. It could make it impossible to hold a job.” Meg slowly shook her head. “But what’s worse is that it will also affect everyone close to me.” She lifted her head, to look into Luna’s eyes. “I, at least, can escape to Ponyville if things got too crazy—for a while, anyway.” The princess looked across the sea of humans with a thoughtful look on her face. “It is fortunate, then, that this shall not happen.” “I… I don’t understand.” Luna addressed the audience, using her Royal Canterlot Voice so that all would hear. “How many of you would visit Equestria if given the opportunity?” The vast majority raised their hands. “I could’ve told you that,” Meg said quietly. Luna turned her head back to the pegasus, her face bearing a smile. “Indeed, you just did. This is your dream; they are figments of your imagination, behaving in the fashion you expect of them.” “I still don’t follow.” “If all these people visited Ponyville, could they be trusted to keep that cartoon a secret?” Meg remained silent, understanding dawning on her. “You experienced first-hoof Twilight’s reaction to watching her ascension. My sister has superior self-control, but she was no less unpleased when Twilight informed her of its existence.” That answered that question. Of course Twilight would have kept her mentor in the loop. How she wished she could have been a fly on the wall for that briefing, the irony being that she probably would be present if something similar happened again. So Celestia wasn’t happy learning about that. Fair enough. Of course, it wasn’t just the private lives of the main characters being exposed. What about all the other ponies featured in the cartoon, even if only for a single episode? How would Flim and Flam, Snips and Snails, Cheerilee, Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon, Derpy, the Wonderbolts, or Prince Blueblood react? What about the non-ponies, like Cranky Doodle, diamond dogs, breezies, buffalo, dragons, and Chrysalis? And she could only hope Discord already knew about it, as was likely, and thus had already reacted however he was going to react. As unfortunate and inconvenient it may be, Meg could understand why the princesses wanted to keep this under wraps. Could thousands of humans be trusted to keep it secret? Tens of thousands? Hundreds of thousands? Not every last one, obviously. Even ignoring that, could Ponyville survive hundreds of thousands of humans passing through, all trying to eat at Sugarcube Corner? She imagined Pinkie Pie dying from exhaustion giving every last one of them a welcome party. It was a small town, not a theme park. They may have been more humans in this room than there were ponies in Ponyville. At least Discord would have loved the ensuing chaos. “I get the picture,” Meg said with a sigh. “And for the same reason, very few ponies can be allowed to come to my world.” Luna nodded. “That is correct.” She slumped to the ground. “What does it mean to be the bridge between our worlds if no one and nopony is allowed to cross?” “The path towards fulfilling one’s destiny is often shrouded.” The alicorn put a comforting hoof on her withers. “Perhaps you are the one to solve this predicament. It is not our intention for us to remain forever separate.” Not that an appearance at a convention was an option anyway. Twilight had already effectively ruled that out, for good reason. Perhaps it was a blessing in disguise. Sure, government officials and the like will know the truth; but so long as Twilight and the others refuse to do public appearances, they would have little choice but to keep it under wraps themselves. Without the hard evidence, they could never publicly admit the ponies were real. Everyone would think they were crazy. That didn’t mean her life wasn’t about to change, just that it might be a more manageable change. Luna didn’t know her world; she was, perhaps ironically, taking this dream a little too literally. Meg didn’t feel like giving a lecture on the subject right then. One of the questions came back to her, about a season five preview. There probably would be one released soon. Did she dare watch it? It should be of the first episode of the season, so it probably covered events that have already happened. There was nothing she could do about it now; she’d just have to wait and see. The thought of Discord a few moments ago reminded her of something else. This seemed like a good opportunity to do something about it. “If you don’t mind me changing the subject, I had a private encounter with Discord yesterday—I guess it’s now two days ago.” “Indeed?” She had her attention. “I asked him how he knew so much about my world, and he said that I was much too young for that type of knowledge and to ask him again in a few centuries. I figured he was being creatively non-responsive. Humans do not live anywhere near that long.” Luna tilted her head in contemplation. “He is well aware of that, I’m sure.” A smirk broke out on her lips. “I wonder what excuse he would give if I or my sister asked him that question?” Meg smirked in turn. “I was hoping you’d say something like that.” It seemed unlikely Discord would reveal his secrets even to Celestia, but she didn’t mind him squirming just a little under the Solar Princess’ cross-examination. “We shall let you know what happens.” The auditorium and the people within it began to slowly fade away. Luna took notice, saying, “This dream has reached its natural conclusion. If there is no further business, I shall depart and let it end.” Meg wondered what would happen next. Would she immediately wake up? What time was it anyway? Maybe she would remain asleep and eventually start a new dream. Hopefully a more pleasant one. She then realized she had an opportunity to send Celestia a private message—well, private enough—but was it a good idea? Who was she to stick her muzzle into the relationship between Celestia and her student, who she practically treated as her own daughter? I am the Royal Advisor on Human Affairs, and this concerns Twilight’s frame of mind in dealing with the human world. She has to stop treating it as a damn test, a test assigned by you and on which you’ll give her a pass/fail grade. Still, she couldn’t prevent her ears from flattening a bit. “Before you go, I’d like to ask a favor…” “I shall consider it,” the princess simply stated. “Maybe it’s none of my business,” Meg began, as she nervously pawed the floor, “and I’ll understand if the answer is no, but I’d like to have a private meeting with Princess Celestia concerning Twilight.” Color and contrast continued draining from all around them as Luna listened. “Obviously, Twilight can’t know about it. It concerns the events of the last few days. I’m a bit worried about her.” The dreamscape had nearly faded to a featureless gray by the time Luna answered. “I’ll pass on your request.”