Me, Myself, and I: The Story of Thomas Thail and his Many Selves.

by Krass McWriter

One Shot and done.

Authors:
Krass McWriter
Microshazm
Erac
Anonsi
Midnight Shadow
WIndchaser
Orpheus (Proofreader, too!)

(Add Yourself If You Wrote)

---

Thomas walked along the sidewalk of the city with an awkward gait. He drew many awkward stares, but none of them lasted longer than a moment. It was as if he was trying to keep walking forward, but something was holding him back. His goal was in sight; a white building at the end of the block. He just needed to get there and...

And what? What the hell do you think you’re going to do?

“Dammit!” Thomas hissed between his teeth. Forcing his legs to cooperate, he righted his posture and continued walking towards the building.

What do you hope to accomplish?

“Shut up shut up shut up...”

Just a little bit further.

We’re the only ones who’ve stuck by you for all this time. Is this how you treat your friends?

“I said shut up!” Thomas yelled out loud, drawing even more stares from the pedestrians around him. He lurched his way through the sliding glass doors, past everyone until he fell onto his hands against the cold marble counter of the receptionist’s desk.

“Uh, hello, sir. Can I help you?” the pink mare asked, her expression one of concern more than confusion.

“No, you can’t help me!” Thomas growled, a scowl creeping onto his face. He slammed his fist onto the counter a few times and shook his head, his scraggy black hair whipping from side to side.

“Agh!” he yelled. Panting, Thomas lifted his head and looked at the mare through his bangs. “I’m terribly sorry. I-I came to sign up for conversion.”

“Do you need any help, sir? I can get a doctor...” she began as she pulled out a clipboard from under the counter.

“Nonononono. I’m fine. Well. I will be after this.” Thomas’ hand shot up to his head without warning.

“No! He’s trying to kill us! Stop him!” he cried to the mare. She reached down with her hoof to a red button on a speaker on her desk.

“Doctor, I need some help in the lobby. We’ve got someone wanting to get converted... but also not wanting to.”

The speaker buzzed shortly after. “I’ll be right down.”

“Sir, if you can please sit down, we can help you.” The mare trotted out from behind her desk and next to Thomas. She guided him to one of the foamy chairs in the lobby as he kept mumbling to himself.

“No no no... You can’t do this... Of course I can do this! But why would you want to do this? Yeah, why do you want to get rid of us? Because you all have ruined my life!” Thomas sat in the chair, trembling. He buried his face in his palms as the mare looked after him.

“Ginger, is this the man you were talking about?” An emerald green stallion in a white lab coat walked up to the pair, his glasses reflecting the lamp into Thomas’ eyes.

“Ah!” he groaned. The doctor jumped back in surprise. “No, no. It was the light. I’m sorry.” Thomas stood up from the chair and managed to control his balance. “I want to get converted as soon as possible, please. I need it.”

The doctor looked at Ginger and traded looks of concern. “Come with me. We can talk in my office.” The doctor led Thomas into the complex, through sets of doors and past many open rooms filled with both ponies and humans. “My name is Doctor Steadyhoof. I run the bureau here. Why is it that you wish to get converted so soon?”

Thomas sighed. “It’s tough to explain, doctor.”

“No it isn’t, you imbecile!” Thomas slapped his palm to his mouth, keeping any more words from coming from it.

Doctor Steadyhoof looked back at Thomas with a raised eyebrow. “Well here’s my office. Why don’t you take a seat.” The two entered a simple looking office with a window looking out to the street and a singular desk in the middle of the room. Thomas sat in the chair in front of the desk and Doctor Steadyhoof stood behind it. “Can you elaborate on your condition?”

“It’s that obvious?” Thomas asked.

“You scared everyone in the lobby half to death,” the doctor said with a smirk.

Thomas sighed. “I... I have these voices in my head... they are constantly talking to me and arguing with each other, and sometimes they take control of my body. I have to constantly fight for control.”

The doctor nodded. “I see.”

“And I read that conversion cures all sorts of problems, so why couldn’t it cure this? I just want to be rid of them once and for all...”

“But that begs the question: Are you the true owner of that body, or are you simply the strongest one of the voices? It seems to me that each one of those voices has as much of a right to live as you do.”

Thomas was taken slightly aback, he had never thought about his condition in that light before. "Well, so what if they are? It’s not like I can do anything about it. I'm stuck with them just as much as they are stuck with me."

The Doctor just smiled. "Actually there is a procedure involving unicorn magic. The only problem is that it needs a 'blank' host and the spell itself is very difficult to cast and requires a specialist."

Thomas raised an eyebrow. "By 'blank' you mean...?"

"A cadaver, of course."

"Wait, what? You... what? Explain." Thomas fumbled, turning it over in his head.

"Well, it’s quite simple really, we take a dead body, administer the proper dosage of ponification serum, and magically transfer the personality to the body as it is healed." Doctor Steadyhoof recited.

"That is some shiasty Frankenstein shit. Sorry! I didn't mean it."

"I assure you, it’s quite alright. Now, have I laid your worries to rest?" The doctor asked.

"Yes, thank you. We feel much better." Thomas explained. >A body of my own!< called a voice from the back of his mind. >Don't get yer nut in a twist, it's a PONY body,< shot back another one, igniting a small war in his mind. Thomas unconsciously began muttering the inner dialogue. "... well then Ima MENTALLY kick you straight in the MENTAL dick!" He shouted.

"Are you quite sure?" Steadyhoof asked quizzically.

"I'm pretty sure Hank is an HLF type. DAMN STRAIGHT I AM! Hey, why's HE get the voice, I never get the voice. SHUT UP! I'm dreadfully sorry about that. They get a bit rowdy sometimes."

"Well, I need you to go to the reception desk. Ask for the form and fill out number seven, mental health problems, with how many there are and their genders."

Thomas nodded in agreement. He stood up and walked to the door, exiting the lobby and heading towards the reception desk.

"You get everything sorted?" The pony behind the desk asked.

"To a degree. FUCK YOU CUNT! Such a pretty pony! I need the form please. Sorry."

The receptionist looked at him like he was crazy, but tried to remain friendly. “Number seven?”

Thomas nodded, and she slid the form over the desk at him.

It took him longer than it should have to fill the form out, mostly due to Hank. By the time he was done, it was full of scribbled-out obscenities.

The receptionist looked over it, nodded, and added a few notes at the end. “Go see Doctor Steadyhoof again and give him the form.”

Thomas grabbed it and walked back the way he came. On the way over, he read the notes. Amid various comments on his condition both physically and mentally, he saw, underlined three times and in bold print, “NEEDS OWN ROOM.”

>Damn straight we get our own room. I don’t want to be with any of these traitors.<

>Shut up, Hank.<

He looked up from the paper just in time to trip over something. His face smashed into the floor, a trickle of blood leaking out of his nose. He shook his head and got up onto all fours.

Before he could stand up, he heard a voice say, “Oh, I’m sorry, I wasn’t watching where I was going. Are you alright?”

Thomas picked himself up onto his knees, looking back to see a white unicorn mare with a green mane and a concerned look on her face. “What the hell were you doing?” He promptly facepalmed. “Sorry. Yes, I’m fine.”

The mare raised an eyebrow. “Is...is something wrong?”

He shook his head. “No, I just have multiple personality disorder. Hank...doesn’t like ponies. To put it mildly.” He looked down, wiped the blood off the floor with his sleeve. “I should probably just get this over with.” He stood up and continued on his way.

----

After looking over the notes, Steadyhoof had assigned Thomas room 7. Upon inspection of the room, he saw it was somewhat sparsely furnished. Two beds, a dresser, and a large, cushy chair. There was a piece of paper taped to the inside of the main door with the weekly schedule printed on it. It was Friday, and nothing was planned for the afternoon, giving him free time for the next few hours.

He sat on his chair for a few minutes, but this quickly bored him. Thomas pushed open the door and walked down the hallway to the right. He soon came across a door to the outside, which he immediately took to get some fresh air to ‘clear’ his head a bit.

>They don’t want to help you, they want to DESTROY you, dammit!<

Thomas sighed, taking in the relatively ‘fresh’ air of the city. “Shut up! They promised our own damn bodies. I’m fairly damn certain if they can do that maybe they can make sure you don’t go pony, Hank!”

>*Sigh* It’s useless, it’s all useless, we’re all going to just psh. Go away. They don’t care if we’re all intact, they only wish to change us, to make us them.<

<Stop moping Brady, is every damn thing gloom and fuckin’ doom with you!?>

>Let’s make this clear, I agree with Brady here. Them pony fucks want us dead. . .Conversion is a fuckin’ bull shit lie!<

<Ponification is a joke. . . I read on the net they put you to sleep, and they get a pony to replace you! They say they send the idiots who go through it to the spice mines!>

“That’s some bullshit crazed conspiracy-type shit, listen to yourself!” Thomas said, trying to walk about to work the numbness out of his legs.

<You know it’s true, you know it, why are you sending us into slavery! We’ll all have to work on the princesses’ banana plantation!>

>Alright, see if they can’t rip Brady out of our head, for Christ’s sake, he’s a moron!<

Thomas facepalmed, murmuring to himself as he passed a group of newfoals. They scattered away from the crazy man as he yelled at himself, “What the hell do you think they do! They’re like pod people err. . . ponies! I mean look at them! Look at those blank stares!” he yelled at himself, crouching down to look a terrified newfoal in the eyes for emphisis “They’re mindless, see! THEY WAN-” He paused as the pony began to speak.

“Umm are yo-you alright?” the pegasus asked

“No, no, NO YOU CAN’T HAVE MY SOUL YOU VILE CREA-. . . *Cough* Um, sorry about that. . .” Thomas tried to grin sheepishly, as the newfoals scattered. “Wait! It’s just a mental condtion, I won’t hurt you. . . BUT I WILL!” Roared Hank. “No no you, FUCK YOU STUPID MOTH- I’m going in. WAIT WE AREN’T FINISHED WITH THESE TRAITOROUS BASTARDS, THEY BETRAYED AMERICA. . . THEY BETRAYED HUMANITY!” Hank roared as Thomas managed to force himself back into the bureau.

Thomas stomped his way past the conversion room doors before being forced to stop by Brady. >That’s where they talk to the alien mother ship. . .I’ve heard they’re in league with the reptilians!<

> Dammit, when the fuck did we read anything about that shit? I swear the only thing worse than talking horses is the shit coming out of Brady’s mouth sometimes.>

>They remove the brains here, to appease their goddess. They are considered mental delicacies there. . . The Ponies want to eat us. . . Think of it have you ever seen them eat any other types of meat?. . . It’s obvious that they crave warm, succulent human flesh!<

“Damn did we fall asleep watching the scifi stations with our eyes open again?” Thomas muttered to himself.

<Hey, I got an idea, let’s go ask a doctor about it. Yeah let’s just leave, go see a real human doctor . . . Get the hell away from these horrid horses, and go chill at a bar, think this shit over some more. . . seem reasonable?>

>Bar’s are where the mafia work out of the back. . . you’re suggesting we get shot in the head by the mob!? They’ll string us up, make an example out of us. It’ll be horrid, we’ll wind up on the news for weeks!. . . Well, we’ll be celebrities. . . dead celebrities. The best kind.<

For Thomas, that was it. They’re about to go suicidal, he was about to go suicidal. It sure wasn’t the first time, but right now there weren’t any meds for him to cool it off.

>Thomas don’t go all angsty with us. We feel we have something to work with now. It would be for all of us.<

“HELL NO!” The scream was loud enough to be heard from inside the bureau.

<Hell yes! OH, WHAT THE FUCK!> Thomas had slammed his fist against the door.

“Shut the hell up, or I’ll be breaking another set of knuckles!”

>No worries. We can take the pain. For humanity, y’know.<

“Damn, damn, damn... Fine, I’ll bust a knee cap, if that’s what I need to keep in charge.” The receptionist pony, who already was quite bemused with the human turning back and forth and talking to himself just outside the glass door took in another mild shock. The young man was looking inside the bureau with his expressions changing wildly from pain to shock, ending in a wide sardonic grin.

Thomas stepped through the doors and walked up to the counter, the grin unchanged. “I need to know how long it takes. I’ll go get those bodies myself, if you can’t provide them soon enough.”

"Um, We never had such a large order before... it should be five days to find willing donors and another day to do the paper work and transfer them. We also need to call in a powerful unicorn to actually DO the spell. You should be ready to convert by about this time next week, sooner if you get lucky," The receptionist explained. "Also, I highly recommend that you resist any urges to collect cadavers. As they do need to be relatively fresh, and making or gathering those is generally frowned upon." She added.

>A whole week to change your mind is plenty of time buddy boy.<

>No one likes you Hank.< Thomas shot back.

>And your mother is a whore.<

>Dude, she's, like, all of our moms brah.< Yet another spoke.

>Oh look, the fucking hippie is gettin’ in on this!<

"QUIET!" Thomas shouted, clutching his head with one hand. "Goddamn! How dare you take the Lord’s name in vain!" A loud smacking came from his right hand as it hit his cheek.

A few recent converts were passing as Thomas did so, "Are you alright, bro?" Asked one, a blue pegasus stallion.

"You're cute. SHUT UP FAGGOT! Oh man, I'm so sorry, I have MPD and one of ‘em’s gay and another one hates everything. DAMN STRAIGHT I DO! You know, if you want to go out some ti- No. We are not doing that," Thomas flirted, shouted, explained and growled.

"Oh my! Look at the time! It’s dinner! See ya later crazy dude!" The freaked out pegasus sped off, only to trip ten meters down and continue to spiral down the hallway. The rest of the group followed after the tumbling pegasus, though at a much more sure pace.

>Ha! Did you SEE that pony fuck! He kept going an' going!<

Thomas just shook his head and checked his watch. It really was almost time to go to the cafeteria. After spending a few minutes locating it John found the cafeteria alive with people and ponies of all sorts. He headed over to the lunch line with a tray. Passing over the food for the ponies, taking a carrot on the way, he loaded his tray full of mashed potatoes and grilled cheese sandwiches. He picked an empty table and sat down to eat.

He’d finished half of his sandwiches and made a sizable dent in the potatoes when three people sat down surrounding him. “When did you get here?” the guy to his left asked.

Thomas swallowed his potatoes, set down his spork and replied, “Just today. Would you mind moving? The fuck are you doing here!? Why would you abandon humanity!? I have MPD.” He shrugged. “As you can see, one’s an HLF kinda guy...”

The girl across from him spoke next. “Doesn’t ponification cure all that?”

Before Thomas could respond, the other man cut in, “Wouldn’t that be killing them?”

The first man said, “They’re all him, aren’t they? So it would just be condensing them into one person.”

They proceeded to have a heated debate, seemingly forgetting about Thomas, who just went back to eating. He finished fairly quickly, and when he stood up to leave, they fell silent except for the girl, who motioned for him to sit back down.

“Heh, sorry about that. You can stay, we’ll stop. I’m Claire, and these are Joseph and Tim. What’s your name?”

“I’m Thomas. And Hank. And Brady. And John. Don’t forget Ray. Angie, too. But don’t lump me in with them.”

Claire looked confused. “Wait...which of you said that last thing?”

“Well, I did. It was me.” Thomas put up an exaggerated smile which still gave little clues to the girl. “What’s good about being crazy, if you can’t have fun with it every once in a while, huh? No! Let me talk! Let...” Thomas covered his mouth with his hand, trying to keep both himself and the girl in a relatively calm state.

“It was Angie, but you might as well say it’s all of us. Sometimes I can barely keep track of it myself.” Thomas did all he could to sound as normal as possible - whatever that even meant in his case.

“Aw, you poor thing.” Claire said back, which turned out to be a mistake.

“WHO YOU CALLIN’ POOR YOU BITCH!? Pony lover!” Thomas snatched a sandwich from the girl’s tray and stuffed it in his mouth. “Iff affayfs vvuckinf ffike tiff.” Again Claire had no idea if it was Thomas saying it. “I’mf leafinf.” He swallowed the big chunk painfully down his throat. “I’m sorry.”

Thomas, and Hank, Brady, John and Ray all, after an inner fight, got up to leave. Hank tried to leave via the front door. Angie wanted to stay, but the rest insisted. Even Hank, eventually, decided that bed was better than the streets. It didn’t stop them arguing all the way back through the Bureau, scattering ponies like flies.

***

Thomas stared at the ceiling in his room. “We’re not going anywhere, I mean, I’m not going. That means you’re all staying too.”

>But it’s been so long since I kissed a guy! My heart is aching!<

>Shut up, queer! Go knit yourself a sweater, or something!<

>Gays don’t do knitting you ignorant racist.<

>You guys are way off. We can’t be racist among ourselves.<

>SHUT UP NERD! And the queer had better stay that way as well!<

Thomas chose to be a bystander in this absurd debate. He just focused on laying still. They’d all fall asleep sometime.

***

The next morning, Thomas opened his eyes. This appeared to be a mistake. He closed them again as the world spun. Had he... no, no, he was quite sure. He’d gone to bed, calling it an early night. That didn’t mean, however, that the rest of him had stayed there.

“Ohhhh brother.” he said. Even his voice sounded weird. At least, he thought to himself, the bed is pretty comfy, and it’s nice having my head to myself for a while. Thomas probed, gently. Everyone else up there appeared to be sleeping. He relaxed.

The bed was comfortable. The comforter was comfortable. He wasn’t sure he could handle getting up, but at least he wasn’t feeling too bad about snuggling in bed with all these extra pillows.

“Extra pillows?” he said to himself. He froze. The pillows were... the pillows were snoring.

“Dammit John!” he swore.

He threw back the covers. A flaxen tail enveloped his body, providing an extra layer of warmth.

“GODDAMMIT RAY!”

> Hrmf arglbrglflrgl? < John answered

> John you... you... < Thomas screwed up his eyes, willing the bed to be full of its usual assortment of imaginary voices and only the one body. It wasn’t working.

> Oh come on! He was cute! We taught him to dance! Even Angie approved! <

> GODDAMMIT ANGIE. GODDAMMIT JOHN. HIM? DAMN THE LOT OF YOU! I’m getting up, going to the bathroom and getting a drink of water. I want you to think about what you did. I did not agree to let you borrow my body... <

> Our body, Thomas hon. <

> And you! < Thomas hauled himself out of bed, disentangling himself from the tails, hooves and mane. He staggered to the bathroom and closed and locked the door, before closing his eyes until the world stopped spinning enough. Then he concentrated, and opened them. Angie’s reflection peered back at him from the mirror. > You’re supposed to be the best behaved one! <

> He was cute, you know, and it might have been my last chance... <

> You didn’t! <

> I did. < chimed in John, smugly. John’s reflection was in a shaving mirror. He was grinning like a cheshire cat. > Several times. <

Thomas held his head in his hands. He filled a glass with water and quaffed it down, then did it again. A third glass took a bit longer to go down. The rest of his 'family' was waking up.

>What the FUCK, DID. WE. DO?!< Screamed Hank, tearing Thomas' mind even more then it was already with the help of the hangover.

>Chill honey, he was sweet.< Chimed John.

>Did you FUCK a PONY?!< Hank was at a new level of rage.

>Calm down honey. You're overreacting. Its no worse than the time Brady had the body and thought he was a werewolf.<

>THAT was a fun night.< Angie added.

>Shut up cunt! You know what? Fuck this shit, I'm outta here.< Hank stormed off to wherever he went when he got pissed.

The stallion stirred, waking up. "Mmmm... Hey sweetcheeks, ready for round nine?" He called lazily, still slumbering partially.

>Round NINE?! WHAT. THE. FUCK. I WILL MURDER YOU JOHN!<

>Hey baby, when I go, I go hard.< John replied and Angie just blushed.

Thomas turned to the Stallion, "Look guy, I've got MPD. You gotta go. Oh he can stay. Quiet you! But yes, I have a gay guy and a chick in my head you thought it'd be funny to get laid. It WAS nice. Been too long. Dammit! Go. NOW."

The stallion had a confused look on his face and John chimed in on how cute it was.

"NOW!" Thomas shouted.

He jumped and scrambled out the bed, becoming obscenely entangled in Thomas's sheets. After a few moments of struggling, the stallion spoke up "Hey... uh... A little help?"

Thomas grunted, and got down on his knee to help the entangled pony out. "So what's your name? Its Blueberry, honey. Dammit guy." Thomas finished untangling the pegasus. "There ya go. Now git." Thomas threw the door open and pointed out.

The pegasus walked out the door, "Uh, thanks I guess, for last night and untangling me and stuff."

"No problem, I guess." Thomas checked the time. It was time for breakfast.

Everything became an argument with the bunch. Why aren’t we washing hands? Why aren’t we washing hands properly? I don’t wanna butter the toast. ARE YOU CRAZY? I FUCKING HATE OATMEAL! Oh, look, they have blueberries, that reminds me... and so on. There was an endless full-contact wrestling match in Thomas’ head.

After getting to his seat, or what could have been his half of the cafeteria, Thomas noticed the girl from yesterday, Claire, standing in the line. “Come here, brah! Come share the mother nature’s fruit with us.” For the first time in a while, Thomas didn’t mind this brief takeover.

“Which one is it now?” Claire stood next to the table, holding a tray. “Is it the funny one? Or the female one? Or is it Thomas?”

“I’m not a circus animal. She’s plotting against us! Sorry.” Claire looked surprised, but only for a second and took a seat facing Thomas. “She’s just open minded.” Another comment Thomas was thankful for, he was on a roll. “There’s no way in hell I’m eating with that witch!” Or maybe not.

Thomas explained his situation to the girl as best as he could and hopefully managed to convey something. Despite the occasional Hank or Brady, the group didn’t seem to mind. How long this magical cooperation would last was another thing. A certain blue pegasus was about to put it to a test, even if it was just by trotting by them.

“Hey, Blueberry darling, meet Claire. We and Blueberry go waaaaay back! By that I mean last night.” Thomas’ jaw fell wide open, though his eyebrows implied something other than astonishment. He tried to chuckle it off; just anything to wave this stupidity away. Claire let out a giggle herself. Yeah, Thomas thought, I guess it is funny.

"So let me guess, one of you is gay." Claire giggled as the Pegasus distanced himself as far and as fast as possible.

“One of us is A TRAITOROUS HOMO PONY LOVIN-” Thomas, as well as several other personalities, clapped a hand over his mouth. The head nodded.

Claire smiled, “Something tells me you’re going to be harder work than the normal fifteen minute conversion, huh?”

Thomas shifted nervously, "Uhhh, they kinda need five dead people for my other selves and a specialist for me to go, but outside of that, I up ASAP. BAH!"

It was then that none other than Doctor Steadyhoof himself decided to scare the shit out of Thomas by appearing suddenly. "Hey, Thomas! I've got some good news for you! Well, it’s actually kinda bad news but for its good news!"

Thomas proceeded to jump ten feet into the air. After steadying his heart he managed to say, "Jesus, what ya find? Goddamn pony. He wants to scoop out our brains!"

Ignoring the Thomas' self interruptions, "There was an HLF protest yesterday that went violent and we were able to secure enough cadavers for your conversion! We sent out for a specialist immeadiatly and got none other than the princess' protege! Celestia herself wishes to oversee your conversion!"

"That goddamn donkey is coming here?! That's seriously great news doctor! Hey, when ya get off sweet cheeks?" Thomas screamed, beamed, and flirted.

"Yes it is! You should be ready to go noon tomorrow!"

>So soon?< thought Thomas. Hank was an unintelligible ball of fury and rage. Brady started shouting every conspiracy theory known to man, and several only known to dogs. Ray smoked an imaginary joint. Angie and John were bouncing pony names off of each other.

"Well, I have to get to the first conversion of the day. I'll see you tomorrow!" The doctor called, walking away.

Thomas choked down as much of his breakfast down in a minute and bolted to his room in order to prevent outbursts at the news. His heart pounding and his head at war as he slammed the door behind him. Unfortunately, all doors in the Bureau were double sided, and it came back, smacking Thomas in the back of the head, knocking him unconscious.

The stage was set. The entire ‘room’ was black, and Thomas Thail and his many selves were having a hefty debate.

>We should leave NOW!< yelled Hank from his portion of the mind

>. . . So they’re using trained cyber dogs to destroy wild life, and capture the blood of their victims to lubricate their horri-< Brady droned on, ignoring everyone else as they did their best to ignore him.

>It’s about damn time, you guys are ‘great’ and all, but I’m really looking forward to a place of my own.< Angie said, eye twitching a bit, as Brady had segued into how their donors were going to be zombies hell bent on consuming all ice cream, or somesuch.

>Heh, Brady, man? Wha- what are you smokin dude. . . I want to try some.< Ray said, snorting as Brady popped him upside the head.

>They’re HERE!< Brady cried out now, cowering. >They’re in our minds! It’s too crowded already!<

>No, really, how did Brady get so crazy?< John asked no one in particular.

>Uh, this is going to be the longest days of my life isn’t it?< Thomas mused as John moved towards him.

>You seem a little tense. How about a lil’ massage?< John asked, moving closer to Thomas.

>IT’S A TRAP!< Brady screeched.

>I’m fine, I don’t need a damn back rub!< Thomas yelled.

>QUEERS, looks like the KING QUEER HAS A QUEEN QUEER NOW!< Hank chortled.

>Let’s just agree to disagree, we’ll be out of each other’s hair in no time.< Angie interjected, standing as far away from Brady as possible.

>You're gonna have hooves, Hank. They’re going to send us to the glue factory!< Brady yelled again, flapping his arms wildly.

>Shut up you nut. . . Wait could they actually do that?< Hank nearly started freaking out, mostly at momentarily believing something Brady had said.

>I’m really pondering just trying to sleep through this bull shit. . .but you’re all making that pretty hard with all your yelling!< Thomas yelled back at them.

>Beware the one with pink cotton candy hair!< Brady yelled, adding >Forever!<

>What’s he going on about now?< John asked, arms crossed at being denied the chance to help. >And, dear, you sure we should be sleeping on the floor? It ain’t even noon yet.<

Thomas blinked. >I thought we...<

>Shut the fuck up! We don’t care if we’re asleep and where!< Hank sprung back to the conversation with explosive determination. >Thomas, you fucking idiot, take me out of this bullshit mind of ours and I swear to my dead mother’s name, you’ll wake up fucking a brain dead zombie in the morning.<

>Hey, we’re finally on the same frequency, man. And I’m sorry to hear about your mother. She got herself abducted, right?< Brady moved closer to Hank. Thomas began to worry about whether they would combine their determination and make him do something really stupid.

>Hey, guys. I think we should get up before we inhale some roaches or something.< They all united in rhythmic shouting, each telling Thomas to get up. Even if it wasn’t the way one normally regains consciousness, it definitely did the trick.

>Time to get up.<

Loud coughing erupted from room number 7 as Thomas cleared his throat, thankfully not filled with roaches but with blood from his aching nose. He squeezed his nostrils shut and went to search for some cleaning tools. “Oh, man, why this again? Should’ve been more careful, brah. Shut up.”

Thomas got himself to the small bathroom and stared at the mirror. But instead of his bloody face, he was greeted by an angry Hank. “24 hours, traitor. That’s how much I’ve got. Don’t worry, I’m not gonna surprise any of us, but I declare a state of anarchy.”

“What? Listen, Hank, you’re overreacting.”

“FUCK THAT! I’m reacting. The rest of you’s just rolling with this. So, I declare anarchy.”

"It can't be anarchy if only one person is doing shit." Thomas smirked. He checked the time and the smirk faded. It was dinner. His last full day as a human and he was unconscious for most of it. For once, Thomas cursed more than Hank.

After a few minutes of swearing and personality changes, Thomas decided he might as well head to dinner, no reason to miss his last dinner as a human. He headed down the hallway, apologizing as Hank swore at random passers-by.

He grabbed a tray and stacked it with various goodies. Moving to the table he sat at this morning. He looked around, Claire was missing. He shoveled some spaghetti into his mouth and scanned around looking for Claire. A few moments passed and a dainty pegasus struggled into the seat across from him.

"Hey Thomas...you are Thomas right now, right?" The pegasus beamed.

"C-Claire? Is that you?" Thomas stuttered.

"The one and only! Though the name is Lavender Clouds now."

"When were you ponified? Race Traitor!" Thomas asked and accused.

"I was the three o' clock. Hi Hank!" Lavander Clouds cheered.

"I am so sorry I missed it. I'm not. DAMMIT HANK!"

The pegasus giggled. "You're funny. And its fine, really. I can't wait to see how YOU turn out."

The two finished their meals and parted ways. Thomas headed to his room and bolted himself inside to prevent a repeat of last night. He flopped onto the bed and stared restlessly at the ceiling. The problem was that he wasn’t tired, not even the slightest bit. Laying still in bed was boring.

>How about we go and find ourselves some company? I’m thinking someone a little... blue.< Angie giggled, John accompanying her. The rest of them, especially Hank, weren’t amused.

>Why do I bother? I think, I...< Thomas wasn’t allowed to finish the thought before Hank interrupted him: >ANARCHY!< He managed to seize Thomas’ left hand for a moment and hit him in the groin. Angie giggled again.

>Sometimes you guys crack me up.<

>Hank, dude, why did you do that?< Ray spitted out while groaning with the others - except for Angie, who still couldn’t stop laughing.

“Why can’t we, dammit, just get along?” Thomas groaned.

>We just fucking can’t! Shit that hurt... but I’m still not done with you!<

***

Thomas was tied down. He’d insisted. They’d spoken to him of the princess, of Twilight Sparkle, but the collective agreement was that a test-run was needed. Somebody was about to become... somepony. Hank had managed to pinch him in the neck, pull his hair, punch himself in the balls three times, trip himself up five times and had attempted to bum a syringe with threats of causing a heart-attack. Thomas was pretty sure that last one was a fakeout, but with cries of “ANARCHY!” accompanying every single blood-thirsty self-destructive attack, Thomas had had enough. He needed leverage that wasn’t tied to one of his own limbs that could be turned against him.

> Hank, if you don’t knock that off, I’m going to make you the first conversion. Everyone else has agreed. <

There was an internal chorus of approval, and Hank had gone quiet. He’d stayed quiet long enough to get Thomas tied down, but was now metaphorically kicking puppies and drowning kittens somewhere in the back of their mind.

> How would you like to suddenly lose bowel control, boy? I can do that, you know. YOU FUCKING LET THEM BASTARDS NEAR ME AND I’LL MAKE YOU SHIT YOURSELF INSIDE OUT! < Hank was livid.

> Relax! If you behave yourself you’ll be the one left in this body. If you don’t, you’ll be on all fours by nightfall. <

> You’d do that? <

> Sure, I want you lot out of my head as much as you do, and if I’ll get an easier time of it to move out myself, so be it. < said Thomas. Aloud, he looked at the doctor, the unicorn specialist who had initially been going to merely assist Twilight, and the essentially dead body next to him, still hooked up to various machines keeping everything going. Blunt force trauma, it hadn’t been pretty.

> Your precious HLF did that. <

> Better’n a traitor like that deserves. < Hank replied, but he didn’t sound entirely sincere.

> They’re stealing our dead! I told you! I told you! They scoop out your brains and eat them! <

Thomas made his choice, “I’m ready doc, if you can find the one called ‘Brady’, I want him out.”

“Brady, huh?”

> NO! NOT THE BRAIN SCOOP! LET ME LIVE! LET ME LIIIIVE! <

The unicorn’s horn burst into light and he closed his eyes. The potion was applied to the machinery keeping the body alive, and within moments it started to change. The unicorn’s magic enveloped his body, and suddenly Thomas felt a part of him somehow taken hold of. There was a strange wrenching feeling, and Brady’s ranting and screaming faded. A ball of light poured out of one ear and floated serenely over to the body, which was still running like wax and deep in the throes of pony metamorphosis. The light enveloped the body, and was gone.

Thomas lay still. The voices in his head were still. Everyone was watching as the body finished changing. Eventually, it twitched an ear. Then a leg. Then it rolled off the seat and fell in a lump onto the cold, hard floor.

“Sc’p’n’o’t m’br’ns” mumbled the pony, swimming on the floor like a beached whale.

“Shh, it’s okay, you’re here. You’re safe.”

Brady the pony, earth pony, screamed. He threw back his head, his ears flicked back and he screamed until he had no more breath in his lungs. Then he opened one eye and peered around.

“Aah?” he tried

The technician shook her head, “No aah.”

“I get to keep my brains? Wait.. my brains... all mine? This whole body is mine? Oh this is sweet. This is awesome. It’s all mine, naa-na-na-naa-naa!”

“Let me just give you a once over.”

Brady shrunk back as the human doctor approached, “You sure you’re not going to scoop out my brains?”

“Quite sure.”

The technician examined the pony, pulling ears, tweaking tails, knocking knees and finally pronounced Brady a healthy pony, “Yep, you’re free to go. A fully healthy filly.”

“Gee, thanks do-HUWHAAAAAAT?”

***

"I'm A GUY!" Protested Brady. "Brady is a GUY'S name!" Twilight looked around, anything to escape the piercing gaze of the enraged mare.

Celestia interveined, "My little pony, do not fret. It is a temporary measure. You may become rightfully a stallion in a months time." She comforted.

"R-Really?" Hope was in her eyes.

"Really." Celestia confirmed. "Now we still have five more transferrals. Do try to be more careful, my student."

"Right Princess." Twilight bowed, then turned to Thomas. "Alright, who's next?" She asked.

There was a brief moment of silence. >I'll go.< Angie spoke up.

"Look for Angie. Female to a female body if'n ya don't mind. What she said."

After a brief look of confusion Twilight started the spell. It felt as if his mind was being rummaged through like a kitchen junk drawer, looking for the one thing needed in a sea of worthless items. Again, the odd feeling of something being pulled away from his mind.

Once more they fed the serum through the machine and the change took place. The skin became like wax flowing and changing color and shape. Fingers melded together. There was a tan Unicorn with dark brown hair where minutes ago a lifeless body lay.

The Unicorn began to stir and lazily opened one eye. "M' l' aln'..." it muttered almost inaudiably. Its eyes shot open at the realization. "I'M ALONE! I HAVE MY OWN BODY!" The unicorn seemed on the verge of tears from pure joy. A quick check that proved she was female and she could no longer hold back, weeping openly from happiness.

Celestia praised Twilight with a faint smile. Only three more transferrals remained. In an hour, where one man walked in, no less than five ponies would walk out.

>So, who wants to go next?< Thomas asked.

>That'll be me bro,< Ray answered immediately. >Them ponies better be up for some surfing when I get outta here.<

“Get Ray. He’s the guy with the mental surfboard or something.” Soon Thomas would be all by himself. Just like the rest of them. Just like normal people.

The lavender unicorn’s horn began to glow, and once again Thomas something delve into his head. He figured casting the spell properly would become easier every time, as the number of personae decreased. The sensation of Ray getting pulled out of his mind was not unlike the departures of Angie and Brady.

The skin of the body bubbled, turning a sickly yellow color. As it shrunk, a protrusion pushed itself out from the forehead, forming itself into a horn. As it became less and less human, the color got brighter, until finally there was a sunflower-colored unicorn with curly, dark red hair where a human used to be.

It didn’t take long for Ray the unicorn to wake up. “Ah... Alright. Am I alright?” He kept on muttering for a few seconds before slowly opening his eyes. “It’s magic, dudes! I can think for myself, I can move for myself... I’m one, single human being!” Thomas and a few others would have liked to point out Ray’s incorrect choice of words, but let him have his moment. I’M ONE WITH THE NATURE BRAHS! SHIT, I CAN’T MAKE THE PEACE SIGN NO MORE!

“Hi, I’m John, and I’m an alcoho- I mean, gay.” The body boiled into an incomprehensible mess, but turned into a blue pegasus in the end, much to John’s rejoice: “Oh, yeah. I’m just like my darling Blueberry!”

The spell hit much harder than the previous four times combined. Although Thomas had already figured he wouldn’t stay conscious, the force of it was still one hell of a surprise. Everything was pitch black, but only for a moment.

Thomas’ eyes shot open and a grand view revealed itself to him. He was in a throne room, a magnificent, royal throne room with tall and colorful glass paintings adorning the walls. Another thing he noticed was being still human. Nothing seemed to have changed except his surroundings... and Hank. The angry rebel in his mind seemed finally gone.

Thomas got up. The room was basically a large hallway with a gigantic golden throne in one end and a double door in the other. A fucking ass long red carpet went down in the middle and connected the two ends. Thomas stood still, puzzled. All the other ones got out safely, so why wouldn’t he? They hadn’t mentioned a throne room, or any dreamlike state for that matter. Then again, nobody had got time to ask them anything yet.

“Hello? Anybody here? Anypony?” He heard someone neigh loudly near the throne. Thomas turned to have a better look and saw Hank stepping into view from behind it. Hank wore a gray tank top and olive cargo shorts and had a militaristic haircut. Rest of their features were much alike. He walked slowly toward Thomas, hands behind his back and a malicious smile on his face.

“Hank? What the hell? Are you-”

“Keeping you here? No, not really. Just go through that door and you’re free, Thomas.” His voice was sinister, but it was still unusually subtle for Hank. Thomas turned to leave. He hurried to the blue and golden double door and tried to pull it open. Nothing. He then tried to push it, but with similar results.

“What is it, Thomas? Oh, is it locked? Oh shit, Thomas, you can’t get out! But guess who has the key-ees?” Thomas turned to see Hank standing just a couple of feet away. He was spinning an old-fashioned metal key in his finger -- with a spectacular grin to boot.

“Hank, hand it over.”

“Nnnope.”

“You got nothing to lose. I’ll go through that door, and you’ll never have to see or hear about me again.” Thomas took a small step toward Hank, who backed off, keeping their distance unchanged.

“You want it, go get it!” Hank tossed the key over his shoulder. It didn’t land very far; Thomas was sure to retrieve it in a few seconds. He rushed past Hank, only to feel something catch his left foot and trip him onto his face.

“WHO GOT US OUT FROM THE MENTAL INSTITUTION!? WHO SAVED OUR ASSES A MILLION TIMES AGAINST MUGGERS AND SHIT!?” Thomas stood up as quickly as possible and barely managed to dodge Hank’s swing -- quite literally, since it was a golf club Hank tried to hit him with.

“Jesus, Hank! I... I appreciate what you did back then, but we can have a different life. Everyone can do what they want!” Hank swung his weapon wildly, hitting mostly air, as Thomas backed off from the club’s reach. Thomas needed the key, but didn’t want to turn his back on Hank. Running away backwards would probably cause more harm in the end, in addition to most likely missing the key. There was also the third -- apparently the only -- option.

After another miss by Hank, Thomas sprung forward and grabbed the iron golf club with both hands. Unfortunately, Hank was better prepared for this than he’d thought. He barely got a glimpse of Hank’s knuckles before a hard punch landed on his jaw. Thomas’ vision instantly filled with stars and he fell on his back to the carpet.

Hank pressed a foot against Thomas’ chest and tapped his chin with the club. Thomas had to blink several times before he could see clearly again.

“Why are you even trying?” Hank laughed. “I‘m the fighter, you’re just the body. I’m the fighter, and I’ll never be just a memory.” Hank was bitter, sad even. The emotions were buried deep under extreme rage, but Thomas knew Hank well enough to notice them. “It’s over, you fucking tyrant.” Hank’s voice was no longer evil, but morbid.

>Shit, he’s right, I’m not the fighter, just the body. Wait a minute... MY body.< Everything shifted as he focused on that. The world around them melted into an infinite blackness. Only the door and the two entities remained. A golf ball with a smiley face on it flew between them, from and into the void. It was followed by another, then another. All of the sudden it started hailing. . . flaming golf balls.

“WHAT THE FUCK!” Hank yelped trying to shield his face, and simultaneously pat out the flames that began burning holes in his shirt.

“IT’S MY BODY, FUCKER, WERE ABOUT TO GET GURREN LAGANN UP IN THIS BITCH!” Thomas yelled doubling in size.

“Wait, you know I was just joking right, heheh, a fun joke to send you off. . . right?!”

“Yeah, fun joke!” Thomas yelled, raising his foot high in the air and bringing it down with enough force to create shock waves which flung Hank away like a rag doll.

“No, wait, this isn’t fair. . . How the fuck is this fair?!” Hank yelled as a bright light lit the sky above. Thomas was now holding a giant magnifying glass, gave a wicked grin. . . Hank screamed in terror, remembering burning ants with such a magnifying glass before.

Suddenly, the door burst open, a bright, pure light on the other side. “STOP!” It was a voice he heard many times on television as well as earlier that day, and it shook the nothingness. “Come, child, leave him alone.”

“Alright. . .” Thomas said, flicking the magnifying glass around so it ‘accidentally’ burnt Hank’s foot. Hank gave a yelp. Tossing the weapon away, Thomas moved towards the glowing door, shrinking with each step. Before he stepped through, he gave Hank the bird, smiling as Hank tossed the golf club at him, only to clatter uselessly against the door.

“. . .I. . . Win. . . I WIN! Ha, showed that pony fucker. . . Right. . . guys?!. . . Oh right.” Hank yelled to the now empty room. Kicking at the ground, listening to his feet scraping the floor in the void. . . alone. “So now I guess I wake up, right? Any second now. . . Heh, I can’t get left here forever...right?” Hank said, pacing about the room. “...Maybe it just takes a bit to wake up?”

“Or you won’t wake up. . .” called a voice from the void.

“Who - who are you?” Hank called out to the darkness.

“Heh, well, I’m you!” the voice replied, its owner stepping into view “Well, a piece of you, anyway. . .”

“What do you mean?” Hank cried out, a pipe wrench appearing in his hand.

“Heh, that’s cute. . . trying to protect yourself. . . how ADORABLE!”

“You stay the fuck away from me, freak!” Hank cried out. He gaped as it stepped closer into full view. A pony. A pony that seemed...familiar somehow. “Wha - what do you want?”

“I want you to wake up, Hank. . . I hope you don’t keep that name though. I hope you’ll find something a bit more. . . Equestrian.”

“What are you talking about?”

“On the operating table Hank. . . On the operating table you died, They brought you back with potion. . . I’m your conscience, Hank, your sense of right and wrong.”

“Just stay back!”

“Wake up Hank, wake up.”

“No, stay BACK!”

“Wake up wake up wake up wake up wake up.”

“Nooooooo!”

______________________________________________

Thomas woke up. In the end, it had been easy to walk through the door, the mental gateway of sorts. His mind was calm, and for the first time in his life, he could count on it staying that way. There had been an Eden-esque paradise in front of him. Equestria. A sky more clear than he could have imagined, with a few passing clouds, so gentle-looking, in contrast to the apathetic gray he was used to.

He was soaring through the azure sky. There was another entity there. It was a brilliant white, and he recognized it as Celestia, or at least the idea of Celestia, for it was of an unearthly perfection, as brilliant and shining as diamond. They soared together for time untold.

After a time, she spoke. “Little one, is this the solitude you sought?”

He thought, and reveled in the fact that he could do so without interruptions or snide remarks. The answer was obvious.

The shining goddess of the sun simply nodded, and the the world fell away.

______________________________________________

“Good god, he’s waking up!”

“Oh, he’s gonna be pissed!”

“We couldn’t let him die!”

“This is like wicked Karma, man.”

“He looks cute!”

“Nope, they didn’t scramble his brains. I made sure!”

Everything was fuzzy, as if Hank was looking through a thick layer of wax paper. There was something obstructing his vision. Something army green. Something attached to his face, something...snoutlike. “Wher-wha-what happned?” Hank asked coming to his senses, he shuddered for a moment, knowing that something was wrong, terribly wrong.

“That intervention of yours.” It was a voice Hank hadn’t heard before, but its tone was familiar, even though it came from an unfamiliar source. It was Thomas, as a golden, white-maned pegasus. “Our body couldn’t handle it.”

“Thomas, GO FU...” Hank started, but ended in a stutter. “. . .This is a dream ain’t it? Just some fucked up nightmare? C’mon, it’s bullshit what that... that pony said before. A-and Thomas, I know you got more a reason to give me bullshit than ever before.” The others could only give him confused looks.

“What pony, Hank?” Another new voice, but this time it resembled that of Angie’s. “Anyone of us?” Hank turned his head around trying to spot the strange pony-figure. Ultimately he found it: it stared straight at him. It was his reflection -- a military green earth pony with short, black hair.

“Tell me that’s not me.”

“It’s not you?” chimed in Brady. “Of course not, it’s your reflection,” Brady stated matter of factly.

“My dear Hank.” Celestia said, and the room fell silent. “You had a choice which you robbed from yourself. So, it was this life or no life at all.” Hank was uncharacteristically silent as his mind exploded into full panic. He shakily pointed a front leg at Celestia, though he was looking for someone else. The one pony in the room that hadn’t been there before the last lapse in consciousness.

“Fucking robbed anything from anybody! It was Thomas doing all the wrecking. Just like every other fucking time!”

“Hey now, you attacked me!” protested Thomas. The whole bunch was about to start their favorite pastime again, only to get cut short by Celestia.

“My little ponies, stop this bickering at once!” The room fell silent once again. “Let’s not ruin this historical event.”

“Historical... event?”

“Why yes, the human media is waiting outside!” Twilight beamed. “We really shouldn’t keep them waiting.”

______________________________________________

Thomas, John, Angie, Ray, Brady, and Hank stood in front of a throng of reporters, cameramen and the like. Their legs were shaking from both the hectic atmosphere and the fact that none of them had been in their new bodies for more than two hours. The crowd was quiet for now, thanks to Celestia still addressing to them. But they’d want their interviews, their pictures, and their videos. They’d want them soon.

Ray was the cool, peaceful one. He told them how his good aura had kept the bunch together for such a long time. He told them how he’d always wanted to go surfing, how there had never been time for such indulgences before in their life.

John was all joy. He wore a boyish grin wherever he was. He even flirted with a few reporters. He told how restrained he had often felt, and how he was a troublemaker with such narrow-minded companions. John hoped another blue pegasus would still recognize him.

Angie said she’d never felt being much of an outsider, how the pressure of the male alters often felt less like a threat and more like a refuge. Still, a life on her own was the best thing she could hope for. She had grown tired of the constant arguments and wanted to do something meaningful, something she could someday be proud of.

Brady was both negatively and positively surprised -- quite a treat for the media. S/he pestered them with baseless accusations, outrageous conspiracies and a lot of things that involved brains in jars. Brady also explained that their survival all the way from cradle to the Conversion Bureau had been mostly to his merit.

Hank was angry. He said he was a victim of tyranny, that he’d been forced to taking the potion. He was the one that had kept them alive, the one who’d stood their ground against anything. Hank didn’t know whether he was stronger now or not. When asked if he would prefer everything like it was, he gave no answer.

Thomas could finally relax -- there was no one questioning his control anymore. He told how he first just tried to get rid of the other personalities, and how he was infinitely glad that he didn’t. He was the sensible one, he had had to be. But when asked about the possibility of another one being the leader, Thomas went numb. That question had haunted him for his whole life. He didn’t answer, because there was no longer any need to. Thomas shook the feeling off, he had to meet a certain pegasus who was waiting for him at the cafeteria.

and then they all fucked

THE END

Comments

[Da Bunnana King]

This seem to familiar.

[Jaysteeny]

That is why I don't read many of Krass' fics. Because they undoubtedly all end with that same line.
NOTE: I have never read any of Krass' other fics, so I'm just guessing.

[ray10k]

I was looking for this exact fic a while ago, and I am glad I found it. Faving, so I don't lose track of it again.

[Tonto the Trotter]

Definitely my favourite one-shot in TCB universe. Krass's writing is still great

[Sotha]

That was a lot of fun. Especially the last line.

[DJ-Pinkamina]

Was the line "No! He's trying to kill us! Stop him!" a reference to TheLivingTombstones song "September"?

[Railyn]

658376 Hey, Krass stuck that on there without consulting any of the rest of us. I think. All I know is I found it in the doc when the story was done, and didn't object because I didn't feel it mattered.

Anyway, I was wondering when this would get back up. Wonder where I can plug this...

[Jaysteeny]

672475 "I can't remember
The lyrics to September.
Da-da-da-da"
703345 I assumed as much.

[Guiding_Passion]

Very interesting to say the least. Still I'm very divided when in regards to conversion bureau stories.

[Krass McWriter]

, 734416

Then to you I reccomend: Erac's work and Anonsi's work.

Some other stories are TCB: Madman which follows an assassin turned pony (spoiler, that dosent get in the way of his job.), TCB: Option Gamma for if you want some gryphony goodness. If you still need more, Just ask. Because there IS more. A LOT more

[Guiding_Passion]

735743
I think that you are trying to promote your friends work am, I right? Oh well it doeasen't matter I don't mind. Unfortunatly I'm laying off the conversion bureau stories for while. So if that was your plan I fear you have wasted your time.

[Krass McWriter]

735892
Wether they are my friends or not, they are still some notable alternatives to a pro-pony interpretation of TCB. If you are going to take a break thats fine, but if you ever get a bug up your ass and wanna read somethin' that where you should start.

[Guiding_Passion]

735924
Well I'll keep them in mind if I ever decide to read these again. You should feel honored this one is the last one I'm going to read for a long time. These TCB stories are really putting a bad taste in my mouth. Mostly do to the fact that in my opinion its a lose-lose for both Humanity and Ponykind since we're being depicted as and I quote Killer Apes who will destroy themselves, and it makes the ponies come off as being selfrightous holier-than thou creatures who somehow feel that there existence and there society is somehow better than ours to the point they feel justified in destroying ours. I remember another group that did the exact same thing namly european settlers to the native americans. All in all I think this entire senario is aweful absolutly aweful. Also I'm sorry if I sounded a bit suspicious earlier.

[Krass McWriter]

736735

Erac and Anonsi work inside the wonderful Yellowstone TCB setting, which has NONE of that. Infact all that really happened is mankind gained equestria as neighbors. And crazy ass magic leaks

[Guiding_Passion]

736746
If thats the case I'll make an exception with those. The other ones though are so cynical its sickening, and it makes both societies look bad as I previously stated.

[sky_petal_blank_flank]

Hmmmm, a plural fic that isn't Pinkie or Luna? Worth a read. I'd like to see if you portray plurality accurately.

[sky_petal_blank_flank]

Well, I read it, and I loved it. I'm really pleased to see that you guys found an alternative to integration, it's not the miracle cure it's made out to be, it's a last resort. I don't think there are any systems in existence outside of an institution who are quite so flaky and dysfunctional, and it's beyond me how they got out of the institution in the first place.

I'm a multiple myself, and I love finding plural fics (even though most of them are Luna or Pinkie, which gets old) and seeing if they're any good. You've managed to make one that, while it isn't really that accurate, will be recommended to our friends. :)