• Published 17th Jun 2016
  • 12,192 Views, 408 Comments

The Man With No Country - Tarot Card



Jeremiah Walker, a human in search of redemption and passage back to his own world, finds himself at the center of Spike’s volatile civil rights movement in Ponyville— the town that chased him away with pitchforks and torches a year prior

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3: The Champion of Lost Causes

Loose Leaf’s day began with a newspaper tossed onto his doormat, and a little later, a brick thrown through his bedroom window. The crash might have startled him awake had he not already been in the snooze-button-phase of his morning routine. After making his bed, he fetched a broom and dustpan he now left out for easy access. The brick had a booklet tied to it; as expected, it was his report. Instead of the usual profanities and threats that normally occupied the margins, the commenter had thought his point was better made by pressing a cow pie between the pages. On the back cover was scratched, Next time it won’t be your window.

This statement was truer than the author probably realized. His apartment had increasingly fewer windows to throw bricks through. He deposited the booklet into the dumpster in the adjacent alleyway, and placed his newly acquired brick with the others. There were now four beside his night stand. Loose Leaf didn’t know exactly what compelled him to keep them somedays. Luna had asked him to stay in Ponyville for the time being, so that only meant more for him. He entertained the idea of building a fireplace out of all the bricks thrown through his window. Now wouldn’t that be something? Failing all else, it would be quite the conversation piece. Of course this all relied on him actually having panes of glass to smash through. He would have to go speak his landmare about scheduling some repairs. Part of him wondered if he should forgo his dreams of a fireplace entirely and install iron bars over his windows.


He brewed himself a pot of coffee, and poured it into a tea cup. His friends back in Las Pegasus had found it endlessly amusing that a pony named Loose Leaf would only drink black coffee, and as a birthday present one year, bought him a tea set. He missed them.

After smearing jelly on top of an everything bagel, he retrieved the newspaper from his door mat, and placed it on his table. With a deep breath, he unfolded the pages, skimming through for any mention of the report. Sure enough there was a story in the back section about it, nothing too deep, just a description of a “controversial” report on the Nightmare Night Riots.

That couldn’t be all there was. He searched further into the paper. Just in case the brick didn’t fully convey the town’s opinion of Loose Leaf and his report, the editorial section of the Ponyville Herald was kind enough to spell it out for him.

Yes, there was a disturbance caused by the human on Nightmare Night, and some ponies were injured and even killed. But to call such an event a riot, as both Princess Luna, and her lackey Loose Leaf do, is to misconstrue ponies simply attempting leave a crowded area for their personal safety.

The tall tales of the human’s mistreatment are hyperbole at best, and at the end of a day, a fruitless attempt to shame us for pushing away a human (who shouldn’t have entered Ponyville in the first place.)

Another writer accused Loose Leaf of libel and slander. The supposed targets were the local heroes Twilight Sparkle and Lucky, the latter whom Loose Leaf had unjustly arrested. (Like most ponies, this commenter missed a step in the fact checking; it was Lyra who levied the charge against Lucky, not Loose Leaf. Though he did encourage her to do so, admittedly.)

In yet another column, Lacey Loom, widow of Pokey Pierce, weighed in on her husband’s death. She adamantly refused to believe that Pokey and Lucky were trying to frame the human, and insist the two stallions were there only to save Lyra. To the widow and children, Loose Leaf was telling wretched lies about a dead stallion to further some twisted agenda. As for Lyra, her head took enough knocks for her horn to fall off that night; whatever Lyra remembered, she probably remembered wrong. Her testimony must not be taken at face value. This second article ended with,

If Loose Leaf hates Ponyville so much, I don’t see why he sees the need to live in our humble town. I think he’d be much happier somewhere else, where ponies don’t mind their names being dragged through the mud under the guise of ‘justice’.

He let out a sigh. One should not seek peace of mind by perusing through editorial sections, the earth pony decided.

Still, the newspaper was not all doom and gloom. The editors of the newspaper put an op-ed on the adjacent page, that appeared to actually discuss the ramifications of the report. The human Jeremiah Walker was not as vicious as we believed. Rather, our town was unaccommodating, and dare I write, hostile. This event shines an uncomfortable light on how uncivilized we can behave. It was not Jeremiah Walker that destroyed the town, or killed Pokey Pierce. It was ponies that did all that. He is not the monster, we are.

Loose Leaf sipped his bitter coffee. Well, one hundred twenty pages, and ten months of work. At least one pony seemed to get the message.

He read it again. He thought he would find a voice echoing his own reassuring, affirming even. Instead, the experience was oddly deflating.

He got up to look out his one good window at the streets. Apart from missing bricks from the adjacent building, everything was business as usual in Ponyville. Loose Leaf wasn’t quite sure why he would have expected anything different. He didn’t think that everypony was going to storm town hall, begging mea culpa, begging Mayor Mare for laws and reform. But he didn’t think that they would all be doing nothing, either.

* * *

After a brief stop at the police station to report this morning’s act of vandalism, Loose Leaf entered town hall to begin the day’s work.

Pepper was busy transferring the office mail into everypony’s inbox, but still gave him a friendly nod when he arrived. “Morning Loo,” Pepper said, smiling warmly as he trotted into town hall. True to her name, Pepper Mill had a grey coat and black freckles. True to her name, her cutie mark was a pepper shaker. Loose Leaf found it funny that most civil workers had literal cutie marks. The observation’s wit fell flat when he had pointed it out to his coworkers. Office humor was one of his “needs improvement” skills, it seemed.

“Morning, Pepper.” He dropped his messenger bag by his desk, adjacent to hers. He still was not used to how clean his desk looked. When he was assembling the report for Princess Luna, he was excused from his normal duties in town hall. The days had been hectic, filled with organizing notes and checklists, half on his desk, and half stuffed in his bag. He was always running out of the office for interviews or for seeking out ponies he had to talk to next. For the first time in eight months he could see his desk calendar. He ripped off as many pages, or at least until he ran out of them. With a sigh he made a note in his journal to buy another.

Pepper’s voice cut through his thoughts. “I cannot believe it. I’ve been secretary here for eight years, and in two weeks on the job, you’ve gotten more fan mail than anypony else has gotten in their careers.”

By fan mail, she meant letters about the report on the human, which were vocal about their enmity towards Loose Leaf, and liberal in their use of colorful obscenities. Those that did not threaten violence would often threaten to vote against him, or even impeach him. Both meaningless gestures as he was a low-wage, unelected employee. He could be fired, but not impeached; though he doubted that he would be fired solely on the basis of popularity. Even if his superiors were swayed from their indifference of him by the voice of the masses, they would hesitate to directly defy the princess.

Well, he took job security where he could find it, he supposed. “I’ll look through them,” he said.

Pepper looked at him strangely. “Are you sure? I was going to throw most of this out. It’s only going to ruin your day.”

“I may as well read through them, in the off chance there is anything constructive written. Nothing they say will bother me as much as the fact that nopony is doing anything about it all. At least when ponies hate me, I know that I had some sort of impact.”

“Okay, that’s your prerogative, and I’m not going to stop you, Loo.” She paused. “But I still think you’re being stubborn and masochistic.”

He gave a wry laugh. “I think you may be right.”

“Here’s the interdepartmental mail,” she said, laying down two letters into his inbox. “And here’s from the mail slot.” She dropped a wrapped parcel, and a hoofull of letters.

The parcel was yet another copy of the report, annotated with unsavory hoofwritten comments, and illuminated with crude drawings of phalluses and graphic depictions of the events described. He quickly threw this away.

The first letter was a complaint that his report was biased; he only interviewed ponies that were sympathetic to the human. Where was Fluttershy’s interview? Where was Lacey’s interview? The only pony who dared to directly disagree with you got arrested. What are we supposed to make of that? The second letter was a chain letter from his pegasus auntie in Cloudsdale, some nonsense about how if he didn’t forward this message to at least fifteen ponies, some forgotten empire would be re-enslaved by a mad prince thought long dead. He tossed that one out before he finished reading it. For the life of him, he had no idea why she sent it to his work address instead of his apartment.


“Well, that was fun,” Loose Leaf muttered under his breath. Now it was time for his actual job, which he had no idea how to do.

Luna had told him to make sure that nothing like the Nightmare Night riot ever happened again. Such a vague, unapproachable task. He had no idea what such a law would even look like. There were umpteen little things that led to that bizarre night. What was he to do? Ban ponies from hiring non ponies? Make rioting somehow even more illegal? There were endless crimes committed, from property damage, to harassment to battery, and the evidence to prove it all. Yet no pony save Loose Leaf seemed keen on pressing charges, or even preventing future occurrences. As most ponies were concerned, it was good enough to ban all humans.

He hardly had a year of experience, if that, working in town hall. He had no idea how he, a town clerk would even get a law passed. His special talent was organizing, processing, and collecting information. The corresponding cutie mark on his was a stack of paper —another literal cutie mark, he reflected wryly. He wanted to be an archivist, and working in town office seemed as good a place to start as any. Somehow he found himself out of his comfort zone. He wasn’t a persuaded, or public speaker, or a writer of legislation. If anything, he felt like a fish out of water. Or more appropriately, like an aspiring record-keeper asked to single-hoofedly reform an entire town.

But it was Luna’s wishes he was acting on, and he would find a way to carry them out. Everypony starts out unqualified, his mother had written to him earlier in the year, when he first started the report, filled with doubt and trepidation. Learn by doing. He was proud of his work when it was done, but it had little effect. So, he would just have to make the effect.

The previous conversations he initiated with Mayor Mare ended with her humming and hawwing. Any attempt to approach the subject of the human, and pressing charges against the ponies (let alone actually drafting a law), led to evasion after evasion.

Today, he was changing tactics. Today, he had a meeting with head councilpony Gray Slate.

At precisely a quarter past two, he found himself in the councilpony’s office. It bore simple decorations, a few pictures of his children now grown up, an athlete, a scientist, a nurse. A shelf of books rested atop a large filing cabinet in the corner. The stallion himself was waiting for him behind his cherry-wood desk. Gray Slate’s pictures showed him as having a jet black mane, though now it was streaked with flecks of grey and white, and his eyes had the faintest traces of crow’s feet. He wore a green sweater, with a skinny black tie tucked inside of it. An engraved ideograph of a stone tablet hung from the wall, in the likeness of his cutie mark. Again, a very literal name, Loose Leaf noted.

“Good afternoon, Councilpony,”

“Good afternoon, Loose Leaf.” The councilpony gestured for him to sit down, which Loose Leaf did. “I’ve been told that you’ve had some hooligans damaging your property. I’m sorry to hear that some ponies have been so narrow minded as to express their disagreement through an act of violence. ”

“I actually meant to speak to you about the report. Did you have a chance to read it?”

“I have. It’s quite a sad tale,” Gray Slate said, resting his hoof on a copy.

“Then you must understand the need for taking corrective action,” Loose Leaf said. “For a start, I’ve spoken with Luna. Her and I agree, it’s time that we bring charges up against the ponies who participated in the riot. It’s time that we draft laws that will prevent ponies from descending into chaos.”

“I understand the need to punish those that destroyed property on Nightmare Night,” Gray Slate replied, his words intoned and deliberate. “We can’t let ruffians believe that we’ll abide their misdeeds, lest other ruffians feel emboldened, who might inspire yet more of their ilk, so on and so forth.” He paused to raise an eyebrow at Loose Leaf. “You’ve heard of broken window theory, I take it? However, what you are suggesting is beyond the scope of necessary action. Ponyville faced a threat, and as is often the case, a group of concerned citizens banded together to address said threat. I’m certain you know of the return of Nightmare Moon, just three years prior? If it had not been for a group of ponies, and the Princess of The Sun herself, well, I don’t know what might have happened. I imagine Luna must be quite grateful for the intervention of our citizens.”

Loose Leaf felt himself slouching. He tried to keep his chin up. Now that he thought about it, the town did seem awfully reliant on Twilight Sparkle and others for almost all of their crises. “Those are different situations. When Nightmare Moon was released, ponies weren’t acting out of hate and fear. No pony died when she was dealt with. These weren’t concerned citizens, it was a mob of vigilantes who took it into their hooves to kill the human, without judge or jury.”

“I will admit, the situation was not resolved as cleanly as others. We experienced an unfortunate death, and some took advantage of the situation to cause destruction. That is unfortunate. But to change the laws, or even punish ponies for acting for their community is a fool’s errand. Not only would I lose the support of the ponies I represent, but It would dissuade good samaritans from saving the town if they fear they may be punished. In my sixteen years of service to Ponyville, I’ve lost count of the times I surely thought the town was going to be destroyed. Such is the nature of being so close to the Everfree Forest, but I digress. Each time we were saved by our citizens, or the occasional stranger roaming into town.”

“But…” Loose Leaf wracked his brain. Here he was on the defensive, when he hoped to at the very least, someone who would help refine his ideas. “But when I talk about passing new laws, it’s not about dealing with these sort of crises where the town is destroyed, It’s about preventing them from happening in the first place. If the human wasn’t treated the way he was, this might have never happened at all.”

Gray Slate looked flatly at his subordinate across the desk. “And tell me, in all your youthful wisdom, what would such a law look like?

Loose Leaf shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “That’s what I was hoping to discuss with you. I believed you would know the best way to create such a law.”

“The nature of a crisis is that it is often not seen before it occurs. What may prevent one crisis might not prevent another. The only thing we know for certain is that if we had not allowed this human to live in Ponyville, then that riot would have never happened. If you are suggesting that we pass laws of how to deal with uncivilized creatures entering our humble town, I am inclined to agree with you.”

“Councilpony, I must remind you that I’m acting on behalf on Luna, and she would not be pleased to see you obstructing her wishes.” Loose leaf’s voice was low. He didn’t want to pull the working-for-the-princess card, but here he was. He almost felt guilty about it.

The Council Pony gave a dry laugh. “Is that a threat, coming from someone whose payroll I control?”

“It’s a fact, not a threat.”

The two earth ponies stared each other down until young, foolish Loose Leaf lost his nerve and redirected his gaze. With a sigh, Gray Slate rose from his chair and retrieved a pitcher of sweet tea. He poured two glasses and offered one to Loose Leaf. Loose Leaf shook his head. “I insist. You wouldn’t expect it by my cutie mark or profession, but I do pride myself on my culinary skills. I know sweet tea’s not much, but I find a bit of lemon, pepper and a sprig of mint goes a long way.”
its
Loose Leaf took a sip. He didn’t care for it, he was too focused on rallying his scattered conviction to really focus on the flavor. Finally, he said, “Councilpony, the fact remains that this is the will of Canterlot.”

Gray took a long drink and sat down. He set the glass on his desk and gave Loose Leaf a soft chuckle. “The mayor answers to the princesses. I answer to the good ponies of Ponyville. I’ve been chosen to make decisions and manage this town according to the will of its citizens. And if my constituents were voicing the same concerns, I would duly act upon them. But you’re a one pony parade Loose Leaf! The princess may be cheering you on, but there’s a common sentiment that Princess Luna has meddled enough.”

Loose Leaf raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean, ‘meddled enough’?”

“I do not mean to offend. I truly appreciate the vigor that you’ve shown for participation in our town. And I do acknowledge Luna’s concerns, even if I do not agree. However you must understand. Us politicians — be it the humble servants of a town, or the princesses— we rule only with the consent of the people. Going against their wishes, which have been so clearly demonstrated... well, let’s call it politically foolish. I fear that Luna may not fully understand how much she is asking you to defy the will of the ponies. They don’t want to continue to let these dangerous creatures in. They want to be safe, confident in the harmony of Equestria, and all of those who inhabit it. I fear Luna may not get the reception she expects. She has a history of unpopular decisions, if you’ve heard the legends. I’d hate to have that perception of her persist even after her redemption. And I’d hate you Loose Leaf, to take such a risky course of action so early into your career.

“The report was a necessary step in the healing process. So many vagaries in the story that you were able to clarify. It was important to the healing process of the town. We better understand the intricacies. But I fear that how you’ve presented this information is too divisive, as though Ponyville is solely to blame. You would be advised to let the turbulence die down, instead of rocking the boat further. A town clerk is a great position of a pony your age. Your job isn’t to act out Princess Luna’s whims, it's to be a servant to the town. Don’t worry about making laws, or seeking justice. Let the ponies in charge of those areas handle that.”

“I only worry because no has bothered pressing charges for violent criminal acts, because ponies are turning a blind eye to injustice!”

“You’ve done enough, Loose Leaf.” The councilpony’s voice was even and short, though he gripped his glass tighter, and bit his lip. He stiffly reclined, and took another sip of tea. “You do not speak for Ponyville, you deal with certificates and forms and minutes. I would hate to have others feel as though you’re stepping on their hooves. If the princess wishes a course of action to be taken in Ponyville, the town council would be more than pleased to be to invite her to our meetings and listen to what suggestions she has. But I will not be instructed to change laws on the ill-defined premises you are presenting. Now I think a drafted letter is in order to the Canterlot administration. Thank you for raising your concerns. I imagine Pepper will need some help with those change of name forms that have been piling up.”

Loose Leaf nodded his head curtly, and departed back to his desk. He stared a hole into the cardboard sheet that was once his desk calendar. It would have been in his best interest to write yet another letter to Luna about his lack of progress. As soon as he was up for it. He wanted to to think, but all of his plans ultimately relied on ponies actually listening to him and Luna.

* * *

The longest day of the year, the day of the Summer Sun celebration, had already passed, and though the days were long they were dwindling back down. It was the golden hour when he left town hall, weary and confused. A few scenic clouds drifted across the sky, catching the rays. All around him, the vendors in their marketplace were laughing, chattering, packing up their carts to return home. He watched a husband and wife, an earth pony and a pegasus, play with their foal, lifting him up to better see the view from the terraced street.

With a sigh, he took the cobblestone road back to his apartment. Despite his muddled thoughts, he mentally composed the letter he would write to Luna about his fruitless meeting. His train of thought was derailed as he saw his planned pen strokes devolve into a bumbling apology and resignation.

He shook his head to clear his mind, as if he got the angle just right, the nagging doubt might tumble out of his ear. Yet still Gray Slate’s words echoed. The idyllic scenery of the little town reminded him that he was the disruption, a disturber of the peace, a judgemental outsider.

He pushed his door open and slumped into the comfy chair in the living area. He was in a position more than anypony to know what had happened throughout the previous year. Yet the truth seemed like muddied water, like all of his searching just kicked up more silt and now he could see even less than before. He was kicking up mud for mud’s sake, and the townsponies pitied him, almost felt embarrassed for him. Loose Leaf, who was trying to guilt ponies that were recovering from a terrible tragedy. Loose Leaf who didn't know a lost cause when he saw one. Loose Leaf, who wouldn't just let the past be the past.

In the gloom of his apartment, a crumb of glass gleamed from the kitchen floor. He pulled himself off the chair and dutifully fetched the dust pan. In the process of cleaning, he in turn saw a letter resting in his mail slot catcher.

Picking it up, he was half surprised to see the letter was signed, and returned addressed to the Golden Oaks Library on the West side of town.

Loose Leaf,
The Non-Equine Rights Movement seeks to address the ill treatment of non-equines in Equestria. We have long felt that we were not seen the same as ponies, and the events of Nightmare Night proved that. A non-equine was hunted for a crime he did not commit, by a mob that had anything but due process on its mind. A non-equine that was denied the right to work and live in Ponyville, with the constant threat of being exiled and left to die in the everfree forest.

Since that night we have struggled to get the “proper” citizens of Ponyville to acknowledge our concerns, to even raise awareness on the issue. At least until you published your report, Loose Leaf.

In those interviews, so many non-equines saw bits and pieces of their own lives: being denied jobs, having doors slammed in their faces, and being taken advantage of without any legal recourse.

Your interviews have brought to light the misdeeds and prejudice straight from the ponies’ mouths. We are indebted to you. You helped us fully understand the challenges we face as non eqs, and gave the foundation to address our problems.

Our first goal is to make Ponyville the first town in the nation accept all species as equal citizens. We are hosting a forum to generate ideas and determine the movement’s direction. We would be honored if you could attend, this Thursday at eight o’clock, at the Golden Oaks Library. We gladly welcome any insight you can provide.

Regards,
Spike the Dragon.

Loose Leaf assembled his dinner, a couple of leftover carrot dogs. Somepony —well not somepony but someone, a whole bunch of someones— had taken his message to heart. Any excitement Loose Leaf might have felt was curdled by the fact that he didn’t have any solution, in spite of his government position.

He pondered if Spike’s faith wasn’t misplaced. He chewed as he gazed at the cardboard taped over the lack of a window, trying to see through it.