A Cup Of Love
27 Ounces:
A story of eight and one half ponies
By Chatoyance
Chapter Twelve: A Cup Of Love
San Francisco Conversion Bureau Clinic 042 had a somber dinner. It was more therapy group than meal, and in order to permit the applicants to cope with the days events, Dr. Pastern had begged the blackmesh commander to station two soldiers at the entrance to the clinic. He had agreed, because their investigation had revealed a second fragmentation device among the intruder's possessions, and he still felt great gratitude for Pastern's help.
The entire staff and patients of clinic 042 sat together as one for the first time in the cafeteria; Miriam and Dorcas had brought out all the bins of food and set them down on the tables; everyone filled their trays in pot-luck fashion as they saw fit. There were no dinner lines, just one big family sitting down to eat, wandering from table to table to talk and to fill their bowls.
The Bureau cleaning staff had been busy all afternoon; while the blood was gone, the stain of grief remained. Hyssop, the pony receptionist from 043 had spent all of the afternoon with pony Bethany, comforting her and helping her to come to terms with her unexpected new state of being. Hyssop also felt a little shame that the doctor of her clinic had not given Lynn any serum; although it was not in any way her fault, Hyssop still apologized constantly for Clinic 043's lack of generosity.
Bethany, for her part, mostly just seemed grateful to be able to see again and to be alive at all. It was clear that she was deeply traumatized, but she seemed to be repressing it, for the moment at least. Hyssop did the best she could to just let Beth cope however she needed to, but it was very clear that Beth was more than glad that Hyssop was constantly nearby.
Caprice was greatly concerned that Alexi would be upset at having his freedom of choice taken from him; she was worried that he would feel resentful at being forcibly converted, even if it was to save his life. But Alexi did not seem upset, if anything he seemed in relatively good spirits, considering the horror that had happened earlier in the day.
"My peach princess, shhh... shhh... let me tell you something. You asked me for a favor, that I should be converted and become a stallion and spend my life with you. I know I was a stubborn Alexi, I should have answered you immediately with a resounding yes at the time. But I did not. Perhaps... I was too old fashioned then." Alexi's new ears drooped. "But I can tell you, my sweet Caprice, the exact moment I made my decision; it was the instant that I held little Buttermilk outside the Conversion Room, when I crouched down and you kissed me. Right then, minun rakkaani, I was already your stallion in my heart. That I am so in body today was inevitable from that moment no matter what."
"Alexi..." Caprice's eyes shimmered, barely holding back tears.
"Though, to be honest," Alexi's ears rose. "I would have preferred a more... quiet... conversion, had I the choice."
"Oh Alexi... me too. Me... too." It was a night of tears for everyone, and it was not unreasonable that Caprice buried her muzzle into Alexi's chest, weeping openly at this.
Caprice and Alexi had made several decisions as they sat together with Pumpkin and Buttermilk at their low table. They would be one family now. Caprice had told Pumpkin that she was her sister now, and that this is how they should always refer to each other from now on. Pumpkin was overjoyed at this, but puzzled at how it could be.
"Family does not need to share the same blood to be family," Caprice explained to her. "Buttermilk is my daughter - it doesn't matter one bit that she did not come out of my body. I love her. You are no less my sister for the same reason. But if you need a reason, accept this; you and I were born into the world as who we truly are, and always will be, from the same jar of potion. You may consider Dr. Pastern our mother if you wish, and the flask as our father, for our lives only truly began on her table, in this place."
"How do you do that?" Asked Alexi, leaning over and nuzzling Caprice.
"Do what?" Caprice was puzzled.
"Be completely awesome... big sister." Pumpkin tried out the words, savoring them on her tongue. "My... big sister is AWESOME!" Pumpkin grinned, and snuggled in as well, making a nice Caprice sandwich. Buttermilk, who was just beginning to learn to stand, tried to rise up from where she had been laying near Caprice's back legs, and fell across her; Caprice was now covered in love, and realized that however horrible the day had been, she had never felt happier than in this evening.
Dr. Pastern, meanwhile, had been hailed as the savior and hero of clinic 042, and though just about everyone had offered their gratitude for her actions -word of her courage had spread throughout the entire Bureau- Roselyn just felt sad, and numb.
Roselyn knew she had done the only thing she could have to save everyone's lives, but what had happened to the intruder was just so horrible. Yes, he had come with the intention to murder them all, yes, he had remorselessly hurt people she cared about. Nothing kind could possibly be said about such a man - yet, still, it was difficult for Roselyn; evil and murderous that man may have been, he had still been a living mind, a living person, and she had destroyed him in the most brutal way imaginable.
She tried to rationalize it; she was helpless, she had no weapons, she used the only tool available to her. Over and over she ran alternate scenarios - could she have knocked him out with a chair, or injected him with anesthesia, or even beaten him in a fight - and not one was the least bit reasonable. Any other action would have ended with a grenade killing everyone in the clinic. As it was, that very nearly happened anyway.
In her intellect, she understood all of this - the intruder was about to toss an explosive device. Commander Miller -the older blackmesh, as she had found out- had explained what a fragmentation device could do, and how close they had all come to death.
But reason didn't seem to help. She kept seeing a man writhing and shrieking, and from time to time Roselyn would suddenly jerk as though being physically hit - because a sudden flash of that memory filled her mind. Lynn sat close to her, occasionally patting her, or giving her a hug, trying to comfort the doctor. It would take time for Roselyn to cope with what had happened that day.
"Lynn..." Roselyn had to tell her, but it wasn't going to be easy.
"What is it, Ros?"
"I... I think I'm going to transfer. They're building more clinics, smaller clinics, back east. I used to live back there, long ago. Today..." Pastern looked so sad, so tired. "...Kind of made me want to go see my relatives, go see the places I grew up before... before they're gone."
Lynn didn't know quite what to say. It wouldn't be the same without Roselyn. "Where do you think you'll go?"
"I grew up in Michigan, maybe there. I have some family there. Or at least I used to." Pastern picked at her dinner. "They're going to build a clinic. Maybe I'll ask to be transferred to it, when its completed. But... I just can't... stay here."
Lynn understood. She really didn't want Roselyn to leave, but she could understand her reasons. Everything that had happened had clearly taken a great deal out of the doctor. "Whatever you need to do, I support it, Ros. But I am going to miss you so much. You're the best... friend... I've ever worked with."
That set Pastern crying, and Lynn felt bad for having said it now, but then Roselyn was hugging her, so maybe it was a good cry after all.
▀ ▄ ▀ ▄ ▀ ▄ ▀ ▄ ■
When dinner was over, the staff, newfoals and applicants had talked long into the night. It felt safer to be near each other, and everyone needed to talk about the day. But eventually weariness overcame adrenaline, and the group began to break up, gradually heading to their beds. It had been a frightening, terrible day, but also a tremendously exhausting one as well.
Pumpkin, Caprice, Alexi and Buttermilk were curled up together on Alexi's big foam bed. There was easily enough room for all four of them there, and they could sleep far more comfortably than in the tiny room Pumpkin and Caprice had shared. They had made their own little herd on the bed, and all of them felt vastly safer and more happy that way.
Alexi had been very tired and had fallen asleep almost as soon as he had reached the mattress. This was very understandable; he had experienced more than any being - Human or Equestrian - should ever have to face. He had borne the exceptional trauma of his emergency conversion with astonishing stoicism, and had not voiced a single complaint. He had, however, not stopped mumbling Caprice's name over and over until sleep took him completely; it was clear that he had suffered unimaginably.
Before they had gone to Alexi's room, they had stopped at the bathrooms to wash the blood off; even now though, Caprice's fetlocks were stained a darker shade. This, and that they could still smell blood with their sensitive equine noses, left them all nervous and unsettled. With Alexi asleep, Caprice had turned to comforting Pumpkin.
Pumpkin had been terrorized by everything that had happened; she had tried to be brave, but once it was clear that they were safe in Alexi's room, she could not stop crying. She became hysterical at one point, frightening Buttermilk greatly; Caprice had resorted to laying her full weight upon her, the warmth and pressure slowly calmed her down, as Caprice said soothing words, and got her to think about how she was affecting poor little Buttermilk.
Buttermilk, frightened and confused, had forced her unsteady body up, and began to stumble across the foam, occasionally falling down while bleating plaintively.
This seemed to have a powerful effect; Pumpkin was a very compassionate filly, and her own torment was forgotten in the desire to comfort the tiny baby unicorn. Pumpkin stopped crying and began cooing to Buttermilk, who gradually calmed and stumbled towards her. "I'm sorry, Buttermilk. I'm so sorry, it's OK, come here! That's it! come here!"
Buttermilk lurched towards Pumpkin, sniffing and making small sounds. Suddenly the little foal dove down between Pumpkin's rear legs as she lay partially on her side, and Pumpkin squealed in surprise. Pumpkin began squirming and kicking until Caprice told her to lay still. "Pumpkin, she's just trying to nurse. Don't you think after such a day, she at least deserves that much comfort?"
"But... I don't have any milk! And... she's nowhere near my chest... AUGH!" Pumpkin was in some slight distress, the sensations were greatly disturbing her.
"Pumpkin, pumpkin, lie still, that's it, shhhh... you don't understand. You're a pony now. That is where your nipples are."
"Between my legs? How can I have nipples between my legs?" Pumpkin was in some shock over this news.
"As a human, you had breasts. But as a pony, you have an udder. It's really still your breasts, and there are only two of them, as before, you are not built like a cow. But their location has changed. That's all." Caprice groomed Pumpkin's black mane with her teeth and tongue, Pumpkin began to relax, despite the hungry little foal.
"It seems kind of weird, Caprice." Pumpkin was bothered, that much was clear.
"No. It is the humans that are weird, Pumpkin, not us." The way Caprice said things always seemed to help, somehow. "Think about it: imagine one of us and one of the humans, naked in a forest, trying to get through it. There are bushes and trees and branches all around. The human woman will be cut and scraped, because her breasts are exposed on her chest. But ours are protected, between our legs, and unless we should deliberately sit down on a bed of thorns, we will not be hurt, however fast we run."
"I would never have thought of anything like that, Caprice." Pumpkin dared to look down at buttermilk, there was no milk, of course, but that didn't seem to matter to the little foal. It was clearly just comforting to her. "When you put it like that, humans are built kind of dorky, really."
Caprice laughed. "Now that's a proper way to see things! We are ponies now, always remember that. Embrace it. It is what you are, and what you will always be. Look at little Buttermilk, trying to nurse. See how happy she is? This is normal, this what is good, now."
"Were you always like this, Caprice?" Pumpkin looked up and behind at Caprice, who was laying close behind her.
"Like what?"
"Really.... kind. Wise. You always make everything make sense. And you make everyone feel better, too." Pumpkin snuggled into Caprice's warmth, and began to feel sleepy. Buttermilk had laid down, her mouth still around one of Pumpkin's nipples, but she was no longer sucking. Her eyes were closed, and she was on her way to sleep.
"No. I was not like this before. I was not very nice as a human. I was smart, and I was funny, or so people told me. But I was very selfish, and very manipulative." Caprice lay her head down, her eyes heavy. "I wanted to be a pony very much, because I knew I could have a better soul as a pony. I was definitely not wise as a human. We could never have been sisters back when I was a human."
Pumpkin shifted sightly, freeing herself from Buttermilk with a faint 'pop'. "Then I'm very grateful that you are a pony."
"I am also very grateful that I am..." Caprice was losing it now. "... a pony. Best decision I.... ever..." It was warm, and it was soft, and the day had been very difficult.
"Goodnight, big sister." Pumpkin whispered the words, then checked on Buttermilk to see that she was sleeping peacefully now, tiny breaths making her little chest rise and fall. "Nite-nite, Buttermilk. Sorry I freaked there. Everything is kinda new, you know?" Pumpkin shifted once more to make herself more available to the baby unicorn, if the foal wanted. "I guess... I'll have to get used to all of this, won't I?"
Pumpkin thought about herself, a pony. This was her life now. This was what she was, and always would be. She felt the warmth of Caprice, her sister, sleeping behind her, and Alexi, Caprice's stallion. She could hear him breathing behind Caprice. Buttermilk shifted on the bed, cuddling in closer for warmth, between her legs. This was normal, now. This was what was good and right and proper for what she was.
For a pony.
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Summer and Sandcastle chose to sleep together again on the big, lumpen couch. They still felt nervous and upset, and had decided to take shifts sleeping. Intellectually, they knew that the blackmesh soldiers would be especially on guard, and that more had been sent from the Presidio base to bolster the guard, but their emotions would not listen. They felt safer where they could take turns watching the entrance to the clinic, and also have room to run if need be.
Sandcastle had taken the first shift, but Summer was having trouble getting to sleep. "It's OK, Summer." Sandcastle gave his coltfriend a comforting nuzzle. "I'm alert, I'll keep watch. I won't fall asleep, I promise!"
"I believe you. I just can't stop thinking about... today." Summer looked up at Sandcastle, his face pained. "It was really awful. I mean, you see these sorts of things in media, and then the characters are all like 'well, let's get back to business' and stuff. But... it isn't like that at all."
"No. No it isn't. I don't know if it will ever be alright again. I'm... never mind." Sandcastle stopped, unsure of himself.
"You're what? Come on Sands, no matter what, it's OK to talk to me."
"I'm... well, I'm afraid of humans now. I know we used to be human, just a few days ago, but after today, even looking at the human shape makes me feel... afraid. It's dumb, I know. I'm just being dumb." Sandcastle turned to stare at the entrance chamber and the big security door.
"No. It isn't dumb, Sandcastle. I... feel the same way." Summer put his head against his mate.
"We could leave. We could leave on the ship, Summer! We don't have to stay. We can learn how to be ponies in Equestria as well as we could here, probably better even!" Sandcastle seemed happier at the thought. "Let's do it! Let's just go, please, Summer! There are no humans allowed in Equestria. Nopony ever tries to blow up anypony else. They never hurt each other, ever. They don't even have guns there! Please, please let's just go..."
"Of course we'll go, of course, shhh, shhh...." Summer rubbed his cheek on Sandcastle's neck. "First thing in the morning, we will get on that ship. I promise."
"And we can stay together?" Sandcastle looked like a little colt, fragile and delicate, somehow.
"If you will have me, we can stay together forever, Sands." Summer snuggled closer, Sandcastle gave him a nibble on the ear.
"Oh, please. Please let's stay together forever."
Summer couldn't help but smile at that.
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Bethany was afraid. It was too dark for one thing, even with a nightlight on. She knew she was safe now, but everything was so strange, and now she was a pony whether she liked it or not, and earlier -she tried not to think of earlier, but it kept flashing back. "Hyssop?"
"I'm still here." Hyssop was only half awake, but she was trying to be a good friend. "I'm right here, Beth."
"I don't... I don't want to stay here."
Hyssop tried to parse what Beth meant. "D'ya wanna go to my room, in the other clinic?"
"No... That's not what I mean." There was a pause, Hyssop almost fell asleep. "Do you know why I never went pony before?"
"Hmmm....nnnnnn. Why?"
"I was afraid to go to Equestria alone. But now I don't want to stay on Earth anymore. I want to get away from here, I never want to see this world again."
"Mnn... I can understand that." Hyssop just wanted some sleep.
"Would you go with me? Just for a while. I'm not asking you to stay with me indefinitely or anything, just... we're gonna end up there anyway, so... would'ja just go with me? Tomorrow? I just don't want to go to a strange place alone." Bethany sounded plaintive and lost.
Hyssop thought for a moment. "Wha' th' hell. Sure. Just let me get some sleep. We'll catch the boat in the morning, 'Kay?" She was tired of her job anyway. And the attack... yeah. Equestria. Sounds good.
"Thank you, Hyssop. Thank you so much."
"Yeah. Surrrr....nnnn" Consciousness had finally deserted Hyssop.
Beth stared at the nightlight. She kept closing her eyes and opening them again, to make sure that she was really seeing and it wasn't some dream. Oh, Celestia, it was so good to see again. It was so good to see.
▀ ▄ ▀ ▄ ▀ ▄ ▀ ▄ ■
It was Friday morning, and a delivery was expected.
The Erlenmeyer was empty. All twenty-seven ounces that it had contained had been used. The inner surface of the bottle still crawled with the remnants of conversion serum; lonely, scattered nanomachines sparked uselessly with the dying embers of Equestrian magic fading from within them.
The empty flask had been carefully placed inside of its bright red case, tucked solidly inside of the grey, shock-proof foam. The case had been closed and locked. Now, it sat on the front counter of clinic 042, watched over by the new receptionist, Meagan.
A new Red Case would be dropped off today, as it had been every three days for the last six months. Another 27 ounces would arrive, in a fresh case, and the old case would be taken away to be refilled. Another nine ponifications would happen, multiplied by the one hundred clinics in the San Francisco Bureau, one of the first Bureaus, and one of the largest. Nine hundred ponies created every three days, month after month after month.
But it was still not even close to being enough.
Megan Winfeld sat in the chair at the reception desk of Clinic 042. She had been told that something terrible had happened the day before, that there had been an attack, but that it had been stopped. Meagan needed the receptionist job, and she was grateful to be there. The previous receptionist had apparently converted, and had decided to leave.
The security doors opened. Blackmesh guards entered the reception area. Meagan waited, but the Bureau agents she had been told to expect had not arrived yet. It was certainly taking a long time.
Meagan heard the sound of electric treads. Something heavy was being brought in. Finally the Bureau agents were here, but they were accompanied by technicians. The techies were using an electric lifter to bring in what looked like an aluminum party keg, held firm within a bright red metal support frame. "Are you the receptionist for Clinic 042?"
Well, duh, thought Megan. "Yes, I am. I'm new, I just got hired toda..."
"Put your finger here. And here. Retinal scan here." The agent was not interested in Meagan's new job. "We'll take the package back to your physician. I assume she is on call, and in the Conversion Room?"
Meagan nodded. "Dr. Pastern is waiting, it's right back th..."
"We know where it is. Thank you." The agent motioned for the technicians to power up the lifter again, immediately they were off towards the back of the clinic.
"Humph." Apparently receptionists were not very important. Meagan tried to smile at one of the blackmesh soldiers. He looked away, bored.
Lynn responded to the pounding on the metal Conversion Room door. Behind it a Bureau agent waved her aside, and had a large red metal frame moved in. Held inside the metal cage was a shiny keg, not unlike the sort of container used to house beer or other fluids. "Are you Dr. Roselyn Pastern, conversion physician for Clinic 042?"
"I am Dr. Pastern's assistant, Lynn Daniels. I can handle anyth.."
"Where is Dr. Pastern?" The agent seemed like the sort of man to whom 'humor' was a mythical legend from some ancient past.
"Dr. Pastern had an emergency. I am fully trained and capable of handlin..."
"This is very irregular. Dr. Pastern should be present for this. I am not comfortable with this situation." The agent checked his datalink.
"Listen. I am fully capable of dealing with this. I can easily inform Dr. Pastern of every detail when she returns. You can check my records, I am fully trained and qualified. Now let's get started; I despise inefficiency." Lynn put on her most stern face.
The Bureau agent lifted an eyebrow. "Very well. There will be no more deliveries of the red cases. The red cases will be repurposed as Serum Travel Cases; retain yours for potential field use as needed. Increases in production efficiency have finally been achieved. This is a 900 ounce Ponification Serum Containment Unit. It has been designated by the Bureau as a 'Pony Keg', and it will provide sufficient serum to allow 300 conversions before replacement. There will be a new schedule provided; conversions per day will be expected to be dramatically accelerated."
Lynn tried very hard to stifle a laugh at the official designation; it was entirely possible that nobody at the Bureau had even a clue that it was the funniest possible name they could have chosen. Certainly, the agent had no idea.
"I will now..." The agent gave Lynn a hard look; perhaps her efforts to remain serious were not as perfect as she had imagined. "... go over the methodology of serum extraction and the cautions associated with this new containment vessel."
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Dr. Roselyn Pastern stood on the floating dock. Behind and above her, the gigantic dark shape of the San Francisco Conversion Bureau interrupted the sky. The foul ocean breeze tasted metallic in her mouth; the gray, poison water roiled against the broken supports of what had once been an apparently famous bridge.
The ship was not pretty, but it did not need to be. It had only one purpose; to transport the converted to Equestria, far out at sea. Scientists had calculated that in just a few years, the expanding border of Equestria would be so large that it would physically cover part of the West Coast. When that happened, the transport ships would no longer be needed; newfoals could just walk across on foot.
Roselyn had broken protocol because she wanted so much to be here. Alexi Venäläinen - he hadn't yet chosen an Equestrian name - was leaving, and she would miss him. He had been the handyman for Clinic 042 since the beginning, and the main reason why her job had gone as smoothly as it had for the past six months. More than that, he had been the soul of clinic 042, and the place would be hollow without him.
Alexi was a handsome white and blue newfoal stallion now, and he took with him an extraordinary and wonderful family. His beloved Caprice, their daughter Buttermilk, and Caprice's sister Pumpkin all looked forward to a happy life together. Buttermilk had begun to walk sometime during the night; she was unsteady but already more able than any human baby of the same age. Caprice would be good for Alexi: someone who could help him occasionally, someone who could keep him out of trouble.
"I enjoyed my days at the clinic. We helped a lot of newfoals, did we not?" pony Alexi smiled at Roselyn, how could he help but smile?
"You were probably the only thing that kept us going half the time, Alexi." Roselyn turned to Caprice. "I am so glad I let you convince me to convert you, Caprice. I'll always think of you as my very best conversion, ever. Please take care of Alexi!"
"We shall be together for the rest of our days, Roselyn. But if you came with us, you could see that for yourself. You could undergo conversion on the trip, and wake up in Equestria. I do not understand why you simply do not come right now!" Caprice seemed both sad and a little angry; it was almost certain Roselyn would never see any of them again.
Equestria was a big place, an entire, magical, wondrous world beyond the bubble in the ocean; as it devoured the Earth, it was apparently growing exponentially on its side of the Barrier. In the end, Equestria would become unimaginably vast, with more land than a thousand earths, more than enough to swallow the whole of the Earth's population as if it were nothing. In that unimaginably vast, expanding landscape, those that did not stay together in their travels could never hope to meet again.
"I don't have any serum." That was technically true, but it was an excuse; everyone knew that today a new shipment would arrive.
"Dammit, Roselyn, you've done enough. If you keep putting it off, you could end up in a desperate place one day!" Caprice nuzzled Roselyn's leg. "You always act as if you are trying to make up for something. If you'd just take the serum, you'd find that Celestia forgives humans. She knows humans can't help what they are." Caprice looked deeply into Roselyn's eyes, and Roselyn felt that somehow Caprice was speaking from personal experience. "Just do it, Ros. Run and grab a cup and then get on the boat. It's alright. You have my permission." Caprice pressed her body hard into Roselyn's leg.
Roselyn felt tears stinging her cheeks. She could almost accept it. She could almost accept it with the permission of this extraordinary peach pony. "You have my permission." Just like Roselyn had given Caprice permission, three days ago.
Sniffing, Roselyn crouched down and put her arms around Caprice's neck. "Thank you... for that. But, I really can't. Not yet. I'm sorry. I'm really, really sorry. Have the best possible life with that big lug and your little foal. And take care of Pumpkin too. You're amazing, you know that?" Roselyn hugged tight, Caprice cuddled her with her neck and head.
As Roselyn and Caprice embraced, Sandcastle and Summer were heading up the ramp to the ship; Roselyn could hear them arguing about something to do with whether tomatoes were a fruit or a vegetable; they seemed oblivious to everything except each other. Roselyn wished them a happy life in her mind, sure that her wish would come true.
Roselyn finally stood up, wiping her face.
Caprice, Alexi, Buttermilk and Pumpkin ambled slowly up the ramp. They stopped occasionally to assist Buttermilk, who found the angle of the ramp unsettling. Eventually the tiny foal made it to the top, a miniscule yellow figure on a large, white boat.
A dark stallion with a blue and gold mane stood close to Roselyn. It was Newmorning, formerly Ryan Niequist. "Doc?"
"Rya... Newmorning! I heard you were getting on the ship today as well. It seems like all the newfoals are leaving today." Roselyn still could feel tears on her cheek.
"Well, after yesterday..." That part was obvious enough. What did the human world have to offer, really, except more chances for tragedy? "...Anyway, I wanted to thank you again for... helping me. You absolutely saved my life. You gave me my life. Thank you doc. Thank you forever." Newmorning brushed close against Roselyn as he passed, then gave her a sharp, stinging whip from his tail. He grinned at her. Roselyn couldn't help but grin back.
As Newmorning trotted to the ramp, he held his tail as high as he possibly could, the view from behind an additional jest. Yes, I get it, thought Roselyn. I see them. You're welcome. She shook her head. Boys. Roselyn sighed.
"Hey! You've come to see us off!" Roselyn turned to see pony Bethany. Beside her was Hyssop from 043. "We're going together! It's really nice of you to see everyone off." Bethany turned to Hyssop. "See, I told you Pastern was a good egg. Best doctor in the Bureau. I always thought so. Pushy on the ponification, though."
Roselyn waved to Beth and Hyssop, and tried to say something clever, but she couldn't because the words wouldn't come out. Bethany and Hyssop strolled up the ramp; Beth had a little trouble because she was still getting used to her legs, but Hyssop helped push her up from behind.
'I want to go on that ship. I want to go on that ship with them. Oh, Celestia, I want to be a pony too' was all Roselyn could think, and by then the tears were streaming down her face. Maybe back East would be easier. Maybe one day she would finally give in. Maybe one day she could feel that those men had forgiven her somehow. Maybe she could forgive herself.
Roselyn Pastern stood there for an hour and a half, until the ramp was pulled away and the ship began to leave, sailing out into the open ocean, towards the shining, gleaming, semicircle that was the wondrous, magical Barrier of Equestria.
Some day, some very special, wonderful day, when she had somehow earned it, she would finally go too.
THE END
The Ponies
[0] 27 Ounces (remaining)
[1] 24oz Carmine - (Carmine Rosalita Guadalupe Vasquez, age 21)
Cerise coat, gold mane, gold eyes. Unicorn pony
[2] 21oz Caprice - (Venice Elspeth Bertarelli, age unknown, probably 24)
Peach coat, deep peach mane, green eyes. Earth pony
[3] 18oz Pumpkin Licorice - (Sharon Marcella, age 16)
Orange coat, black mane, black eyes. Pegasus pony, with foal
[4] 15oz Sandcastle (Elijah Shaloe, age 23)
Tan coat, white mane, burgundy eyes. Earth pony
[5] 12oz Summer Raincloud (Logan Bertram, age 24)
Medium gray coat, blond mane, blue eyes, Unicorn pony
[6] 9oz Newmorning (Ryan Niequist, age 26)
Dark gray/black coat, sky blue and gold mane, Earth pony
[7] 8oz Buttermilk (Baby Jane Doe, age 2 weeks 3 days)
Pale yellow coat, yellow-white mane, bright yellow eyes. Unicorn pony
[1/2] 6 3/4oz Horsemeat (William Duke Culpepper, age 36)
Bright pink patches/caucasian, zero mane, Brown/violet eyes, pink guts. Half pony
[8] 2 1/4oz Alexi (Alexi Venäläinen, age 28)
White coat, deep blue mane, purple eyes. Pegasus Pony
The Bonus Pony
[Bonus] 4oz from another flask Ruby Foxmane (Bethany Milner, age 43)
Chestnut coat, light red mane, red eyes. Earth pony
27 Ounces continues directly in the sequel: The Taste Of Grass
The Lost In The Herd Series:
One: The Big Respawn,
Two: Euphrosyne Unchained,
Three: Letters From Home,
Four: Teacup, Down On The Farm
The Conversion Bureau Novels:
27 Ounces: A story of eight and one half ponies
The Taste Of Grass
The Conversion Bureau: Code Majeste
The Conversion Bureau: The 800 Year Promise
The Conversion Bureau: Going Pony
The Reasonably Adamant Down With Celestia Newfoal Society!
Recombinant 63: A Conversion Bureau Story
HUMAN in Equestria: A Conversion Bureau Story
The PER: Michelson and Morely
Little Blue Cat
Cross The Amazon
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squeeee! Closure! ...almost at least. Alexi you naughty, naughty boy, you've upset a lot of people... even with the "pony keg" (lol) I wonder if there will be... trouble?
Ok, I can't be stuffed to check but I'm guessing that 'keg' is a part of a pony/horse?
31680
"A quarter barrel, more commonly known as pony keg is a beer vessel containing approximately 7.75 U.S. gallons (29.33 liters) of fluid."
Straight from Wikipedia ;)
Excellent. Very nice job.
WAAAAAAAAAAAANT MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORE!
Well, that concludes 27 Ounces. I hope you enjoyed this... novel... and that the characters and events meant something to you.
I certainly fell in love with all of the characters myself, and I am very sad to have the story end. But, there is no more to tell here; the drama is done, the rest -for the ponies, at least- now becomes the simple pastoral joy of lives delightfully lived; wonderful to experience, boring to read about unless someone is unhappy and needs to go on a quest. Teacup, comes to mind.
As for Dr. Pastern, well. We know what happens to her future from Euphrosyne Unchained.
I envisioned 27 Ounces as though it were a television series, a kind of medical drama with Conversion and ponies, if you wondered where it all came from, or how I approached it. Each chapter was an episode, I suppose.
If I had a wish, it would be that my stories would get six stars and feature at the top of Equestria Daily -no, excuse that, let's try that again. If I had a wish, it would be that you, the reader, would come away feeling that the characters of 27 Ounces had touched your heart, and that the story went where it needed to go, and ended when it needed to end.
I want to thank you utterly for bothering to read my work, and for joining me on the journey.
It was a honor to write for you.
-Chatoyance
32008
Six stars is not enough. It needs at least eight and a half.
I look forward to your next story; I didn't think it was possible to equal Teacup, but you did it.
31684
Ahah... So 'pony keg' IRL refers to a specific size of keg. Got it
Bravo! This series has really made my weekend and was an awesome start to this week. I hope you have more stories for us, Chatoyance. Whatever you post up here next, I'm sure is to be gold and will read it no questions asked!
I wonder if the black market people will eventually come storming into the bureau looking for Alexi. That part was left kind of unresolved.
Thank *you* for the story, Chat!
I enjoyed reading it. Your rapid-fire approach at churning out these chapters really keeps one interested and it is obvious that you do research and put a lot of thought into what you write. Plus your talent for creating unique characters... you're good. Very good. Thanks!
I somehow doubt you'd get a high rating on EQD. Simply due to the controversial nature of bureau stories. Look here, it's currently rated 3.9, but I guarantee you that it should be at least 4.6+. It's not your fault
Will there be more?
32463
I can't leave Alexi and Chatoyance alone. 'A Taste Of Grass' a direct followup to 27 Ounces is up now.
Just for a little perspective, this story happened to meet the requirements of NaNoWriMo. 56,297 words of this 79,981 word story were posted in November, exceeding the goal of writing 50,000 words of a new novel in the month of November. And you only needed until the 17th!
Thank you for writing this excellent My Little Pony fannovel!
36417
Woah! Thank you, Tychomonger! I hadn't even considered that I had met NaNoWriMo! That really makes me feel happy! Wow! NaNoWriMo seems so totally intimidating. But... somehow I guess I just got carried away and... the words came out.
I am really loving writing. If I can't do a good 3000 words every day, I feel blue. It's so fun writing this stuff!
Absolutely wonderful work. I will be adding this to my favorites immediately.
The characters did indeed touch my heart, especially Ryan and Alexi. You did a great job bringing these characters to life. I wish I could make this story a six star, but 5/5 will have to do for now.
32008
Consider that goal far exceeded. I have only seen such a large roster of well-developed and interesting characters once before in any artistic medium, and this may even surpass that. I felt a real connection to every character in the story, even the smaller parts. You have a true gift for storytelling, Chatoyance. Your use of appropriate narrative devices to steer reader emotions, the dialogue tones and nuances of character interaction, the subtle and brilliant weaving of the setting of a crumbling, cyberpunk Earth into every facet of the story was a true marvel to behold. I cannot say that there have been many stories that I can honestly say I have not been able to put down, but this is one of them. More than that, it finally convinced me of the legitimacy of fan fiction as a standalone artistic medium. I was truly sad to see the piece finally conclude, but the time I spent reading it was absolutely enjoyable. Bravo, Chatoyance. Bravo.
This comment may go overlooked or ignored since it's pretty much insignificant, but I have to say, this is an amazing story. Although, I, once again, felt repulsion at the touchy-feely parts, but that's just me. I kind of like watching people with misery (Think Misery loves company) and help them to become happy again (For that warm fuzzy feeling) only to later feel repulsed by the feeling, then distance myself. Not much relevance to the story really, just ignore it if you want.
I've been reading all of your stories the entire day, currently in my 7th hour of reading without pause. You truly succeeded with this one (27 ounces)! I second the feedback that has been given above. Truly marvelous work! What I love most about your story, beside the well composed characters and narative, is the fact that you dared to dwelve into actually very deep-natured questions with both ethical, moral and religious implications. It's not often that one is able to experience something like this! I ended up constantly debating with myself all the events and presented choises as the story progressed. Truly intriguing I must say! I would be lying if I claimed that this story didn't touch me to the core.
Now onto "The Taste of Grass"! Lets see how that story will develop. The bar went very high due to 27 ounces, but my gut tells me it will be even better.
omg im gonna read all of the other stories linked at the end... no time for sleep... must read...
Well then... I've been glued to either my pad or a monitor for the last two days and have come out much the better for having read this.
This was very, very well done and very, very inspirational - thank you. You have certainly mastered the ability to project your audience into the emotional world of your characters.
222823
The first thing that struck me after the very first Conversion Bureau story I ever read was; what would such a change do to the mind? If all that happens is that a normal human becomes pony shaped, then Conversion Bureau stories are just silly wish fulfillment, and have little, really to say. But - it the change also changes consciousness fundamentally, then suddenly the Bureau stories have the power to talk about what it means to be human, and that is very worthwhile literature.
Humans, being social animals, have a built-in morality, just as all social animals do; it is the brain's wiring for compassion, mirroring and social awareness. A dog or a chimp will respond to its society in cooperative ways, both will grieve at the death of a companion, both will defend a weaker companion, both will perform acts of mutuality. This is hardwired. Beyond this is the hardwired circuitry that keeps social animals from killing each other, the more social the animal, the less likely it will kill its own kind.
Humans have this wiring, they are not tabula rasas, and being this the case, they must be taught to kill, in order to make them useful for the wars of the wealthy classes; this is the point of boot camp; to break the innate, biological programming in order to create a potential killer.
A sociopath is an individual that lacks the correct wiring; they can kill without remorse even without programming to break them; they simply cannot feel the suffering of others as being important, and the suffering of others does not affect them. They are broken, with a neurological birth defect that makes them potentially dangerous to others.
Ponification, in all stories, has been represented as healing all ills by creating a perfect, new, pony body. The brain, therefore must also be healed.
The inevitable logic of this is that any sociopath that is ponified will be rewired for compassion, more than this they will be given alien, pony compassion, and not just human compassion. They will also be given the wiring for shame, another innate social program in the brain, as well as every other social-animal function.
Seeing this, I instantly recognized the drama inherent in the situation; the story wrote itself once this drama was recognized.
Well, I just finished it. (Finally, one might say.) I can't say too much that I haven't already (in how many separate posts, now? Sorry 'bout that, Chat), but I would just like to say that I found the ending very satisfying. It tied up everything (except the part about those guys that were on Alexi, but I'm not really sure what to think of that, since it wasn't addressed in any way whatsoever), and it was sweet (the parts with Pastern were particularly touching, and those little notes at the end about each pony were a great addition).
I intend to reread Euphrosyne Unchained. Again. Just to see Pastern from this new perspective.
Oh! And there was mention of her in Teacup, Down on the Farm. Will I have to read that again, just to try to reason out what she might have done after arriving in Equestria. She didn't stay in that village with Petal Confetti, so perhaps she went out to try to find Caprice.
And of course I have The Taste of Grass to look forward to. Thank you for the wonderful story, and thank you for continuing with Caprice and her family. Essentially every character you set up here is good enough to have more stories about them (especially that Carmine, if you ask me), but Caprice and her family are extra special. They are the gems.
Well, I hope you don't find my comments too bothersome, what with their composition so late after the fact. Uh... how do I add a story to my favourites?
Maybe I've taken too many religion classes but the ending screamed Buddhism for me. Very interesting stuff. I enjoy that your stories are about humans rather than ponies as I think that is where the heart of TCB fics lies and this fic exemplifies that.
It explores the many nuances of modern day problems and examines just how much the chance of revival can (or can't) change those nuances. Very deep stuff for something inspired by colorful ponies.
Also just wondering. Why are humans so willing to give up their names in a good majority of TCB fics? I can understand it a bit in this fic as it connects them to the tragedy they each go through. But it still kind of bothers me, I mean a name may very well be the last thing a person has to remind them of their humanity after conversion. Has that idea been explored in any TCB fics?
freakin awsome!
You have my sincerest thanks for a beautiful work of literature.
This is a beautiful story.
It made me laugh, it made me cry, it made me dream. I've had a wonderful time reading this fanfiction.
This is also the first TCB story I've ever read, and it won't be the last. The experience was so great, I want to read more !
Thank you for this magnificient story, you filled my heart with sunshine
245303
If you want to read stories about humans, there are many other websites for you; this one is about ponies.
You asked why someone would be willing to give up their name, the last shred that made them human- It's shocking to me that anyone would ask that so, let me see if I can offer an answer: when someone becomes a pony, they lose the fear that drives the desire to be only human; they live in beauty rather than fear. Most human names are given by their parents, and are copies of names given to others to the point where the name is nothing, but a label, but a unique name is a work of art reflecting the unique qualities of a person. Could you imagine keeping a meaningless mechanical label after touching upon joy so great that becomes your reason for living?
388915
1. I'm reading about humans dealing with the new emotions of being a pony, so yes it does need to start off a a story about humans and then turn into a story about ponies. That is IMPO what makes a good TCB story.
2.Maybe it's just my view point (what's the exact opposite of misanthropy?) that causes me to say that about names. Yes most names in modern society are passed down, but they have history behind them. Your first name could come from an ancestor who fought in the Civil war, or your middle name could have come from your first ancestor to ever set foot in America. The point being that names not only reflect who your are but what has lead up to your existence. It's why I just find the idea of renaming such a devastating moment, it's the obliteration of generations of history. I understand that the TCB universe for the most part is an utter abyss and that people do want to escape it and maybe some people do want to forget their names and the history behind them, but I just find it a bit of a stretch that everypony would want to change their names, surely some wish to retain a shred of humanity. So once more, like all good things in life, the solution to this argument is a complex shade of grey
397433
"Why are humans so willing to give up their names in a good majority of TCB fics?"
Peach Clover has half of the answer with her response, and I absolutely agree with it, but there is another factor, one even more primal and important. It is a factor that occurs in the real world with real people who move to other nations, and I have seen it happen. Fitting in.
Having a name that fits the culture you are in, and will be in for the rest of your life, is a huge social advantage. The tallest nail gets the hammer and for a Newfoal, choosing a proper pony name is both a way to try to assimilate into the only culture they can ever live in for the rest of their lives, and it is also a rite of passage, a way to psychologically accept that they are no longer human, that they are now Equestrian, and that they are beginning a brand new life. That is a basic, very human thing to do, and in a strange way, by doing it, the Newfoals are demonstrating humanity in the very act of relinquishing it. Humans, the ultimate adaptable ape. I find taking a pony name a deeply meaningful act, within the context of the Conversion Bureau stories.
388996
"I am very sad that there is only one dream sequence with Celestia shown throughout this whole book, especially considering that you allude to the fact that everyone has one."
In my other Conversion Bureau novels and novellas here, I do show more Conversion Dreams, and of course, other authors do likewise. Conversion Dreams, being essentially near-death experiences, are profound and interesting insight pieces as well as quasi-mystical allusions to the deific nature of the twin princesses.
That said, to be honest, they can get old after a bit. Like reported near-death experiences, the Conversion Dreams have consistent and common elements, the most usual of which are the running herd of Ideal Ponies, the Great Celestial Hall, and the Meeting With The Princesses. There are a few strikingly different ones out there, but most follow some variation of this pattern. There are only so many ways to write that.
We can imagine that Carmine must have had quite the interaction with the princesses in her Conversion Dream, at least based on her reactions and behavior. But I could not find a way to represent that in a satisfactory manner. I considered many possibilities: the princesses offering her forgiveness and unconditional love, the princesses being appalled that a percentage of humans could be sociopathic, even debating the wisdom of involving themselves with humanity, or even just vast pity and sorrow for her. None of these seemed to be anything but trite, almost paint-by-numbers representations of something that should be powerful. I did not feel capable of doing it justice, and rather than doing a poor job, decided to let her dream be hers, and concentrate on her profound change of heart, and decisions about atonement.
I like to imagine I am not entirely incompetent as an author, but... I also try to know what my limits are. I don't think I could have done Carmine's dream justice. I still do not. So... I reason that it is better to say too little, and feel that it is good, than to say too much and ruin that which I feel proud of. I am sorry for disappointing you in this.
I am also surprised that I only did one Conversion Dream in the whole of 27 Ounces! I did not realize I had only done but one. I guess I felt only one was needed, probably because of all the other stories I was writing.
It should be noted that all of my nearly half a million words were written within about two months or so. Maybe three, but I think it was two. So my head was swimming with all of this and the basic concepts, such as Conversion Dreams... well I was afraid of overdoing them, I think.
Thank you very kindly, though, for reading my works.
CHanging species the best thing ever ? My ass, hell to the uh-uh man!
511049 (From private mail!) "You really, really would fight for equestria, instead of humanity ?"
If Equestria was somehow real, the Equestria of my stories at least, and if the magical, omnibenevolent, omnipotent pony goddess Celestia I write about were actually, really real, and if there was a way - such as ponification - that could allow me to become a gentle, kind, loving pony myself, and live in unspoiled wonder, beauty and magic under the rule of a physical, factual, real loving pair of goddesses in a fairyland of friendship, magic and kindness ...
... I would turn on this lame, greedy, narrow, violent, warmongering, hateful, murderous, bigoted, insane species of hairless ape, trapped as it is in this cold, mechanical, meaningless, empty, soul-less cosmos faster than Pinkie Pie could eat a cupcake. And I would do it with a song in my heart, a smile on my face, and total, absolute reverence for my princesses. I would be the most loyal, true and matriotic of mares, and I would serve the princesses and Equestria to my last breath with the full depth and effort of my newly-gained soul.
Goddess-fucking YES! You better believe I would. A world of death, horror, hunger, and cruel apes versus a magical fairyland of love and plenty and pretty ponies? Are you insane? OF COURSE I would fight for Equestria. All the way. It's like asking 'would you really fight for heaven instead of hell?' Yes, yes I would. Of course I would. I wouldn't even have to consider it. My allegiance has always been to kindness, love, and joy, it isn't even up for debate.
If Equestria was real, really real, it would probably be the only nation I would ever be willing to die for. Certainly not any of the greedy corporate states of this twisted Earth.
If I had a chance to live in magical splendor, of course I would join the ponies. Hell, man, even if ponification wasn't possible, even if there was no hope for me, personally, I'd still do it, just to protect something that was actually good, actually decent, actually magical. Not even a doubt.
I really enjoyed answering this question! Wow, thank you for that! It felt good!
511232 Hmmmpf. Traitor. You are a mad dog, and mad dogs are put down.
"I could have a better soul as a pony" BFHS! Changing bodies doesn't change the damn mind.
512945 "I could have a better soul as a pony" BFHS! Changing bodies doesn't change the damn mind."
You... aren't very educated, are you? Stroke victim. One moment, they are the person they've always been. Blood clot. Tissue is killed. After, they are a different person. They don't like the same things anymore. They don't believe the same things anymore. They are kind of the same, but also not the same. Their friends may not consider them the same person anymore. They may lose their family, they may make new friends, because they are, in many ways, a new person.
It happens. Not all stroke victims are just paralyzed or lose the ability of speech. A small number are damaged in the parts of the brain that run personality, identity, and self. They literally become different people. One form of it turns people into gourmets, who before never cared about food. Another form makes people musically inclined. It's very rare, very rare. But that it happens at all, is the point.
My background is in medical biochemistry. When I write about these matters it is informed by that knowledge.
Stroke victims, such as these, as well as other brain injuries, from steel rods through the skull to tumors, have taught us much about the brain. Here is a fact: we are our brains. If there is a thing about you, there is a circuit in your brain doing it. If that physical circuitry is changed, if those neurons are altered, you... are not entirely you anymore. You change. If the damage is permanent, you change forever.
Your mind is a program run by your brain. Change the hardware, and you change the program. Your mind is encoded in proteins inside neurons, and transmitted by electrochemical pulses. That is who you are. You literally are your brain, that literally is your mind.
OF COURSE changing the body changes the mind - because the brain is part OF THE BODY. The brain is meat, the body is meat, and both are meat together. The software that is you runs on that meat-computer.
If ponification were real, it would have to change the brain to work at all. Your brain is hardwired with a map of your body and how it works. If the map didn't change with transformation, you would be... what's the medical term? Fucked. Yes, fucked. Like a typical stroke victim is. Unless the brain was changed, a newfoal wouldn't even continue to breath, much less get up off the table. They'd just die. Or at best, be locked-in.
PROTIP: If you are going to write science fiction - which Conversion Bureau stories are - then you damn well need to know some science.
513183 I just hate fucktards like you who would support pony invaders.
513271
Your erudite perspicacity has swayed me. From now on I shall fight for the side of humanity against the onrushing plague of joy, happiness, beauty and friendship that the Equestrians represent. How could I have been so blind? A clean, pure, gentle world of loving wonder and magic cannot compare to our dreary, disease-riddled, ecologically devastated planet of war, slavery, and global corporate fascism. Four legs bad, two legs good!
Thank you for setting me straight with your short, but incredibly convincing comment. Boy howdy, did you put me in my place!
Well, Chatoyance, I just finished this amazing story and I must say, I am astounded by the depth of your writing. I have no choice now but to read the rest of your works. One thing, however.
Gamzee may be a dipshit humanist incapable of adapting to new ideas, or he/she may simply be a troll. Whatever the case may be, Gamzee does have a valid point. You seem to have given up entirely on the notion of humanity as redeemable, and that saddens me more than you can possibly imagine.
Provided the option, I don't know if I could give up my humanity in exchange for Equestria. As it stands currently, I am leaning towards not being able to convert. I understand your viewpoint, that humans have proven themselves capable of great evils, and that the option of a better world, one free of murder, rape, and the like, seems almost to be an obvious improvement.
On the other hand, the sole idea that irks me the most about the Conversion mythology is this: Ponies are completely incapable of true evil. This seems to me to be a horrendous loss of free will and personal choice. Some may argue that this loss of will, this forced goodness is entirely beneficial, and can only bring about peace and happiness. I respectfully disagree.
I believe that what makes a good act special is the fact that it is so often easier to do the wrong thing, the selfish thing, the evil thing. Without the presence of evil, true evil, the kind of evil that makes sadistic bastards throw babies into fire and knowingly infect others with incurable diseases such as HIV, what value lies in goodness?
The Conversion Bureau series has been criticized countless times for being 'misanthropic'. I feel inclined to agree. It seems to me that the entire mythology is based on one concept; that humanity is irredeemably destructive as a species. So many people, upon reading one of these stories, tend to forget that humanity has also proven itself capable of great kindness and beauty as well. Mohandas Gandhi, nonviolent even in the face of violence. Edith Cavell, treating the wounded of both sides during World War I. These people, and others like them, give the lie to the basic premise of the Conversion Bureau.
Yes. humankind is certainly capable of horrendous acts of evil. Yet, it is also capable of astonishing feats of self-sacrifice. In the absence of a real Equestria appearing in our real world, it seems to me that once people accept the belief that humanity is incapable and undeserving of redemption, then the human race will be well and truly lost.
Anyway, I have already typed more than I planned. This, in itself, is a testimony to the power of your writing; when it gets people to think critically about subjects like morality. Keep up the good work.
Sincerely,
the name at the upper left
699724
I don't like Schadenfreude, and that is not what I refer to. Internal pain is associated with comedy in general - a quick study of professional comics will instantly result in a field littered with the corpses of broken dreams and horrific childhoods. It's often been suggested that comedy is 'therapy that one does on stage'. Certainly, when comedians finally get psychological help, they seem to stop being funny.
"It's no secret that comedy comes from pain." - Jim Carrey, Comedian, actor
704453
Not from me, you won't. I agree.
705688
Keep in mind, though, that in my future earth, everyone is fed and watered because the elite actually... care. I know, fantasy.
Goddess, I loved Chrono Trigger. Wasn't that just the best game?
Very well done. Now... on to the next book!
730977
Thank you very much! I tried to make it visceral.
All of these stories take place in the same universe, so the Lost In The Herd stories are part of it too.
Just stopping by to leave a comment (I know, redundancy, but whatever :p I just wanted to get started)
I'd like to congratulate myself with you for writing a gripping, entertaining, and very, very solid TCB fic, that withstood well the test of time (I mean, 7 months ago! That's like, ancient times in the pony fandom!). Delightful medical descriptions, nice human stories, cute pony followups, and a rather enthralling setting that only one author I know can convey with such bold yet precise strokes
All my faves! And heading straight to enjoy "The taste of grass"
743830
Thank you kindly, Celestial!
Good book, interesting read. The part with the sociopath helped to set up the feel for the rest of the story with what conversion does to the mind. I also liked the day by day approach. Would like to have seen the terrorist ponyfied *evil laugh* just for the karmic retribution. However the end was a little predictable, once Caprice started hitting on Alexi, and then when he turned on the black market it became inevitable, was just surprised he didn't see it sooner. Was surprised that when the two guys that were always arguing with each other were converted that they became lovers, that just seemed odd. Would also have liked to have known how Dr Pastern reconciled the notes to reflect the missing serum.
1420700
I 'Get' Christianity, probably better than most Christians. I know the mythology very, very well, and I know what a Christian is supposed to live up to. I know what the various feuding branches of Christianity believe, and why they fight and fuss with each other, and how little they differ in the essentials. I have successfully debated deacons and bishops in details of their own faith, and I have won about 40% of the time. I know Christianity.
I write from entirely personal experience. All - and I do mean ALL - of my experiences of strongly religious people, the majority of them Christians of various denominations (because I live in the US!), has been uniformly terrible. The best I can say is that such people start out seeming nice, but when anything happens that remotely challenges them, they have turned mean, despicable, and cruel, and have used their faith as a means to punish, harm, and cause hurt to those they find... inappropriate to exist.
Thus you will see that my effort to portray the character of the strongly Christian Elijah Shaloe in this story as a good, kind, intelligent man who was that way from the very start was a major effort on my part. That, for my personal experience, was pure fantasy, far more unbelievable to me than the impossibility of ponification itself.
I tell you true that I have seen, met, and cared for people who have been treated exactly the same as Sharon in my story. The events I write in my stories are real, most of them. True events, which I have painted up in cyberpunk and science fiction and fantasy colors - but the events are absolutely real.
Sharon is based on several real teens I have known, abandoned by their Christian parents for various 'crimes' such as being pregnant or being Queer. The episode that involved Logan being nearly killed by his own father - that happened to me, personally - but a version of it happened to a teen I rescued once - he was beaten almost to death by his strongly Christian father for being gay, and had been forced to flee to another state at 14, just to stay alive.
I have had Christians betray me, abandon me, and go out of their way to hurt me, or my loved ones, over and over and over, using their faith as an excuse for outright bigotry of the basest sort.
It is only my powerful imagination that permits me to write a good, positive, loving Christian character like Elijah, because I have yet, in my fifty-two years on this earth, to actually meet such a decent person. I have thought I met such a good religious person many times. Always, I have been brutally disappointed.
Every decent person I have ever known was at most weakly religious. Agnostic but leaning toward spirituality. I have yet to meet one, even one, truly decent, truly loving, non-judging, non-harming, non-bigoted strongly religious person. I am waiting. There has to be one out there, even if it is only just ONE. I mean, they have to exist. Statistically, right? It has to be possible. I assume, anyway.
In the mean time, while I wait, I will use my imagination to invent what such a person would be like, and thus I have done so with Elijah and Sharon both. They are both good people, despite being religious, and never turn show evil throughout the entire story.
I like to stretch myself as a writer.
1427955
Hee!! I had fun with that moment.
I'm glad that I spent today reading this fic.
I was initially skeptical of the whole Conversion Bureau idea. I mean, the starting point of this portion of the fandom, Blaze's original, was notoriously misanthropic. In spite of that, I went and read that ultimately incomplete fic last night. Despite the flagrant misanthropy present in it, I was drawn in by the concept and found myself wanting more, but not particularly yearning for a human-hating adventure. Then I recalled hearing that your works in the TCB universes was drastically less so. I chose at random 27 Ounces, and I have to say that I wasn't disappointed in reading this.
From the very first chapter I was hooked. Each of the characters felt like real people. I think the character that I felt for the most was Ryan/Newmorning. His plight isn't unfamiliar to me, though I know my situation would be as simple as the older version of the 'potion'. Ultimately your willingness to touch on the topic of transmen and transwomen was very good of you, and because of that it came out as a fleshed out universe and the characters.
Regarding Ryan's situation, it occurred to me while reading that if they have magic-infused nanomachines that can restructure a body into the Equestrian form, at the very least there would be some sort of therapy that could prepare trans-individuals [whether by simply flipping the right switches to trick the potion, or by rewriting their chromosomes], or allow a patient to choose their sex... But then I realized that this was only the first 6 months of conversion availability, so I suppose it is unsurprising that the Conversion Bureaus wouldn't be prepared for all cases.
I am additionally curious, in your particular iteration of the universe, where conversion can be treated as a last resort to save someone' life, if someone stumbled into one of the Bureaus in a near-death state crying that they don't want to die, would the Bureau be obliged to help them? Or would the informed consent override?
Regardless. This was a very fun read for me, and I'll be continuing on to read the direct sequel of this fic.
Thank you for the story.
1607207
Thank you very much for reading my story, and for your thoughts about it.
"I am additionally curious, in your particular iteration of the universe, where conversion can be treated as a last resort to save someone' life, if someone stumbled into one of the Bureaus in a near-death state crying that they don't want to die, would the Bureau be obliged to help them? Or would the informed consent override?"
In my version of the TCB, the Worldgoverment, as well as humanity itself, has only seven years to deal with the end of the world. Although I have never written about it directly, the leaders of the world were dramatically convinced to begin the ponification program, and every level of humanity is adapting to the need for it.
As such, the Worldgov errs a bit on the side of political sensitivity, with all of the informed consent rules. By the end of the seven years, as the Barrier closes in on the last spot of land remaining (the tip of South Africa) all pretense of consent has been dropped. Before that point, the policy has become one of trying to save as many lives as possible, regardless of anything else. In the early months though, in which 27 Ounces takes place, the reality that the planet is a sinking ship and the Bureaus are lifeboats has not entirely been accepted.
If, in this time frame, a person showed up at a clinic, dying, and begging to be saved, the response would vary from clinic to clinic. Some clinics would follow strict policy, and keep the limited ponification serum only for registered convertees. Individual clinic doctors, like Dr. Pastern, would just go and grab a cup and save the person - no hesitation whatsoever. In short, the response would be as expected for normal humans - some would follow procedure, afraid for their positions, and others would act in compassion regardless of what the Bureau or the Worldgov might say.
I would like to think, though, that the majority of Bureau staff would always save the person bleeding on their doorstep.
As potion becomes more plentiful, as it becomes downright common (as is the case in my stories set later in the seven year timeframe) there would be no issue at all. Immediate ponification would be commonly used in all life-or-death emergencies, regardless of consent status. There is enough potion to go around, and the earth is ending. Ponification becomes the obvious response to any emergency, because it alone means long-term survival.
I portray humanity, in my stories, as essentially good. They have destroyed the earth through greed and selfishness, but it was not because of evil, just the hunter-gatherer primate shortsightedness that always causes human empires to topple. In my stories, the Worldgovernment has used the somewhat failed promise of nanotechnology to feed the world - no person goes hungry or without clean water, even if they may live in a favela in the most abject poverty. It is the first time in human history that everyone is fed, and there are nineteen billion to feed. In that way, it is the Golden Age of Mankind.
There are a few bad people in my stories, but they are only bad from a given viewpoint - everyone has a reason for what they do, and every person thinks they are doing right.
I like to think, in almost every circumstance, a person will try to save someone else, if they can.
And yes, I know this is not factually true, and there are endless stories of people just standing by while people die in front of them. Yes, yes. I know reality.
But I write fiction. And in my future, even if Man has ruined the earth, He is still trying His best, and down deep, he wants to do good.
The question, though, is from which viewpoint is good actually good?
Dr. Pastern would save a dying person with potion without a thought.
But to an HLF member, her action would be supreme evil.
For my part, I personally feel that saving someone, preserving life, is admirable and preferable - and the vast majority of my characters would agree with me.
1624183
Oh, you honor me greatly.
I am absolutely no Pangloss, and as I explore in another story of mine - Teacup, Down On The Farm (which takes place long after Zero Point and the destruction of the earth) - we must always 'tend our gardens', even IN a hypothetical Best Possible World.
Wow. Candide. Thank you very, very, very much even for an indirect and (somewhat) backhanded reference.
I can only hope that by the time you are finished, your feeling will be much more one of pleasure than 'getting through', because that truly is the intent with this novel. My goal is that the reader should experience awe, joy, wonder and longing by the end of the book, and feel that they have spent time with interesting and companionable characters in an extraordinary situation.
I look forward to what you think at the end.
Hello, Chatoyance. You might remember me from feedback discussions for Around the Bend.
I've generally avoided your other works because Conversion Bureau fics often tend to be...somewhat unpleasant. Yesterday though, by some bizarre chance of coincidence I happened to link Around the Bend to a gaming friend (drachefly) and he immediately recognized you, apparently even knew your real life name and referred me to this story.
So that's what I did today. I sat down and read 27 ounces. I admit, and I apologize that this is not exactly the sort of "pony experience" I generally look for from my ponyfics. I tend to prefer happy and cuddles over blood and agony. I do enjoy redemption themes but usually prefer to skip over the massive guilt that sometimes accompanies them.
This was a riveting piece. It wasn't always fun, but it wasn't intended to be. The characters were both real and memorable. And I suspect that I'm probably by far not the only person to sit down and read the whole thing start to finish This is a year-old piece now. You probably don't edit it anymore. There were some things I liked, and some things I didn't like. Some things I'm glad you did, some I was indifferent to, a few that I didn't like...but acknowledge that they added to the overall story by giving it a lot of emotional depth...even if the relevant emotions weren't always a lot of fun. And a couple things that, I apologize, but sort of came across as just annoying.
I'm going to pick one thing that I especially liked. Maybe not an especially important piece to the overall story...but something that was meaningful to me. I realize as a writer you want feedback for anything that affects your audience, whether they appreciate it are frustrated by it. But forgive my personal bias that I prefer to talk about things I like.
I really like that you had the courage to portray the princesses as you did. I found it to be an extremely reasonable portrayal of divinity, and in ways that I'm not entirely sure whether you, as the author, were even aware of, or whether you were simply channeling it. The dreams of Celestia and Luna that the converts had...that they were even called "converts..." it all fit together very nicely. As if the princesses were the "divine, higher, unified self" of ponydom. The dreams were not dreams, and the princesses were not deliberately taking time out of their day to go visit everyone as if that time would no longer be available for them to do other things. Rather, "becoming a pony" necessarily meant alignment on a spiritual level, not merely a physical transformation. Interacting with the Goddesses in a "dream state" was just as natural as saying that a meteorite, when it falls to earth...becomes part of the earth. No deliberate action on the part of earth is necessary, and the individual material that was meteor remains unchanged, but nevertheless a communion necessarily takes place. "Meeting the princesses" was not a thing to do so much as a logically necessary and natural process for what was occurring. Their complete acceptance and non-judgementalism meshed fluidly with this as well. Does the earth gaze upon a meteorite and "judge it" as worthy or unworthy to become part of the earth? No, there is no judgement, there is no being unworthy, there is simply "is" and "union" with no loss to that which is united. You communicated this beautifully, effortlessly...and possibly even unintentionally. The princesses may have received less actual "screen time" than they were given indirect "prayer time" and yet I found myself continually wondering throughout the story whether they were simultaneously aware of the 19 billion potential conversions over the entire course of the past present and future of the story, or whether their physical avatars would "access" the relevant awareness and memories if and when a convert should appear before them. Omniscience is sometimes not an easy thing to convey to the mortal mind through mere words, and yet here it was conveyed in such a way as to seem that they could take half an hour for each of 19 billion individuals,, could hear every prayer every offered to them...effortlessly. Not because it required any action on their part, but simply because they were aware,
Sometimes it's not what is said, but the manner in which something is left unsaid. You wrote that in such way as to allow it to be understood rather than hand-holding us through it...as I, unfortunately, have just done.
I apologize that I haven't read all of your works. Conversion Bureau stories necessarily have so much angst and guilt. I think, as a reader, I would personally prefer to identify with Celestia, and look into the eyes of man with full awareness and acceptance of their need to self-punish, offering no recrimination for it...than to identify, as a reader, with the guilt-ridden humans needing to punish themselves for feeling of unworthiness. Not confirming it...for that would be asserting their unworthiness. And not denying it, for that would be rejecting the part of them that feels so strongly. But simply...accepting them, fully, completely and without judgement...accepting the part of their being of which they feel unworthy. And accepting the part of them that feels the need to self-punish for that feeling of unworthiness.
As Caprice said, "it's alright. You have my permission."
And you never needed it, except from yourself. If you give up your feelings of "sin" and guilt and "unworthiness" that's ok. And if you feel the need to hurt and to punish or redeem yourself, that's ok. Come as you are. All of you. I am here.