A Volunteer at the Bureau

by Comma Typer

Pitch in, First Base

“Boo!”

“Agh!”

And Sam stumbled out of bed, fell to the floor, and hurt his arm and face.

Head throbbing, he rubbed his aching body, massaging it to no effect. Then, he shot his eyes at the source of the sound.

Past the window, a pegasus covered her snickering mouth, wings flapping under the bright blue sky. “I got ya’ good!”

Sam stared at her dumbfounded. Apparently, this was somewhat legal, if not mean-spirited, given how indirectly causing harm wasn’t exactly nice.

He was also reeling from the morning grumps. That wouldn’t bode well.

“Hey!” a gruff voice shouted from outside still. “You’re not supposed to do that!”

The prankster pegasus waved a hoof at her victim. “Gotta go! Enjoy your morning!” and she flew away.

Followed by an armored pegasus pursuing the criminal in flight. “Get back here!”

Sam blinked, processing what just happened. Apparently, that wasn’t legal.

Then, he remembered it was morning. The prankster had been his alarm clock.

In a panic, he showered, dressed up, and got out the door.

---

Sam waited outside. There wasn’t much to see outside. Across was a McDonald’s and a gas station plus another choice of suites to stay in, but there really wasn’t much. Nothing grand and fancy like Grauman’s Chinese Theater. Just some buildings he did know and some buildings he didn’t.

It was only seven-thirty, but that didn’t stop him from booking a ride to the bureau.

As he waited, he saw the half-full parking lot by the McDonald’s chain where he’d gotten his bag of breakfast from. A slow-moving line at the drive-through, but, otherwise, things weren’t too bad.

It was strange to see a pony taking orders there, considering that she was vegetarian and all, but she seemed fine. She could have fries and the veggie burger which had seen sharp growth over the past year or two. There’d also been talk about putting up a McDonald’s in Equestria, though some of the native ponies were quite against it, having known it more for their regular beef burgers than anything else.

What Sam did notice about her was the smiling. The incessant, nonstop smiling. He couldn’t hear the words from this distance, sitting at a table overlooking Glasgow Street, but he could tell she was saying “please” and “Thank you!” and “You’re welcome!” quite often. She waved and she grinned, greeting each driver with a smile and a happy morning ahead.

Then, the black car stopped by the Inn’s entrance.

Sam got up and brought his food over into the taxi.

At the driver seat, Arthur chuckled and pointed at the food. “I see that you’re suffering.”

“They call it fast food for a reason,” Sam answered, closing the door with bag in one hand.

The car started and drove off, headed for the bureau.

While Sam looked outside and took in the sights (but not the sounds) of Los Angeles, his eye couldn’t get off of what made the city odd. There’d been Equestrians back home, sure, but it was nothing compared to how many they were here. Not enough to overshadow the human population, but there’s a clear mix. Abyssinians and ponies trotting down the road, some on the way to work while others on the way to wander. It was funny to see a businessman and a businessgriffon walk and fly respectively, each holding a briefcase.

“I don’t blame you for buying cardboard to eat,” Arthur said, taking Sam out of his mind’s trip. “Cost of living is through the roof. Then again, what do you expect when you’re a drive away from celebrities, right?” He chuckled again, bobbing his head to the side. “Eating cardboard with the richest, right?”

“Hey, it’s not cardboard!” Sam cracked.

“Maybe something’s wrong with my taste buds,” Arthur conceded. “Everyone and my dog loves their food...except me. Don’t understand why.” He then glanced quickly at his customer, his eyes wide with curiosity. “By the way, what’s up with the bureau? You’re one of the early birds?”

“Not really.” Sam let his hand drop to the seat, the other alone at keeping the food from falling. “I’m volunteering there.”

Arthur nodded. “Good for you. Getting a feel for the place. Scouting things out. You seem pretty well-prepared.”

“I believe so,” Sam replied mindlessly, turning back to the blur of landscapes whizzing past him.

Arthur then jerked a finger at the food again while his eyes were on the road. “Is that vegetarian?”

Sam’s heart skipped a beat.

Saw Arthur glance at him through the rear view mirror. He flashed a mean smirk.

“You might want to eat it right now,” Arthur advised. “Ponies, buffalo, zebras, yaks—they’re gonna pinch their noses with that thing on.”

Sam smiled, confident in his decision. “I plan to eat it there. Have to eat it close to work time so I won’t get too hungry for lunch.” He saw Arthur open his mouth, then stopped him: “It’s not like they’re gonna throw up around me; I’ve seen several ponies at a table and they’re fine with leaving the meat alone. How bad is it gonna be, anyway?”

---

“Are you crazy?!” Crowhop yelled desperately, before covering her nose at the brown bag Sam was carrying in the lobby. She coughed, mouth covered and nose pinches as the pony garnered attention with her histrionics.

She and Sam were the only ones there besides the receptionists and the coffee bar’s workers, but that only made it more embarrassing. The bureau’s facade was mostly glass, bringing this serious oversight into public view.

“Uh, should I eat outside?” Sam asked, more than willing to salvage the situation as he already walked to the door.

Crowhop shook her head, pony courtesy and manners taking over. “N-No! It’d be lovely to eat with you, it’s just—” she coughed, “sorry, but I’m super allergic to meat. Other ponies c-can handle being around meat, but—ah-choo!—” sniffed her wet and runny nose “—th-that’s why I handle the pony cases!”

“Alright, then,” Sam said, not asking why being a pony wasn’t a factor in her job. “Sorry to bother you, ma’am. I’ll just eat outside.”

Therefore, he went outside to eat his burger in front of moving cars and beside a couple pony guards.

He did make a mental note to keep some fries intact.

---

Knock! Knock!

Shuffling from inside. “Who’s there?” came the voice of Crowhop through the door.

“It’s me,” Sam said, resting his weight on the door like he’d been at the job for years. He was feeling particularly cool today, ready to take on an actual day of work at the bureau.

“Come on in,” she beckoned. “The door’s unlocked.”

With her permission, Sam opened the door to Crowhop’s tiny cramped office. He saw the mare herself munching on her breakfast which consisted of daisy sandwiches with helpings of sliced garlic and beans beside a glass of orange juice. She was levitating her food, first a sandwich and then a fork to pick a few beans. Even then, she sometimes lowered her head and just ate, doing away with the middlemen.

Crowhop burped, cleaned her dirty mouth with a hankerchief, and blushed at the sight of the man who’d just witnessed all of that. “Oh, uh, I should’ve told you I was busy eating, but, you know—breakfast is the most important meal of the day, and I gotta get all that energy!”

Sam was astonished at the mare’s grubbiness. To think that she’s his superior. Perhaps the two weren’t so different, and this prompted him to take out his fries. “Uh, you want some?”

“Fried potato slices?!” Crowhop shouted, eyes shrinking at the sight of them.

“Y-Yes, they’re—”

And the bag of fries was magically yanked away, glowing that lime glow before resting on her table.

Crowhop raised a hoof, ready to dig in. Then, she reminded herself that it was Sam’s fries, not hers...and another blush came forward. “Eh-heh!” Looked at Sam with the eyes of a somepony guilty. “I-I’ll share. I promise!”

The rightful owner of the fries said nothing. He was still reeling from this pony who was so excited over that meager food.

Hoping to placate Sam, she pointed at the other chair. “Take a seat! I really promise that we’ll share!”

Sam shook his head and held up his hand. “It’s fine. I just need to know about anything unusual for today, and I’ll get to work.”

Crowhop smiled, pushing the fries away so she wouldn’t think about them. “Nothing much! Ooh, did you watch the Key Note yet?” and placed both of her forehooves on the table, leaning towards Sam. “We posted it on our YouTube channel and our website! It was two hours long, including the Q&A which took up more than half of the talk, but it’s very great!”

Sam wondered about the longevity of a Conversion Bureau’s YouTube channel. He also wondered how long Crowhop would yap. “Well, what’ll you do with it when the whole world’s magic and there’s no need for potions?”

“The usual stuff,” Crowhop answered, still smiling at him with that cute face and that cute voice. “You know.”

“I know about ‘bureau repurposing’, but what will you do?” Sam asked, then mentally berated himself for lengthening the conversation.

Crowhop relaxed her shoulders. “Go back to my old job: making creative light bulbs.”

Sam cocked his head, almost studying her with suspicion. “That’s a job I’ve never heard of.”

“Now you’ve heard of it,” Crowhop said matter-of-factly. “I used to make all kinds of light bulbs! Blue light bulbs, red light bulbs, long light bulbs, short light bulbs, surprise light bulbs, square light bulbs, spell-powered light bulbs….”

And sighed, looking fondly at one of the photos on the wall. There, she was holding up her invention to the world: A maze-shaped light bulb.

Sam looked there, too, marveled by her ingenuity and by how anyone could possibly want to buy a light bulb that looked like a maze.

“Yeah,” crowed the pony softly, putting a hoof to her chin as she mulled over that cherished memory. “Those were the days.”

Sam took a half-hearted step forward, truly wanting to get to work and not be burdened by whatever this pony had to say.

But she continued.

“I was the talk of the town back then. I stirred up our village of Fourbeat with everyone’s hopes on my back, my family and friends desperately pining for me to win the award for them.”

Her face darkened, her brows hardened, and she let out another lonesome sigh.

“When we heard the news about our worlds colliding, that Earth was in irreversible danger, I was one of the first to jump in.” She hesitated, harking back to that dreadful day, that day when she stood still in terror at what she’d heard. “It was scary. Not this new dimension, not the humans who were there, but how this world,” and pointed at Sam—”your world...how i-it was turning into something else and I couldn’t do anything about it...nor the mayor, nor the princesses, not even the Elements of Harmony—”

Stopped herself. She choked.

“You need a drink,” Sam said solemnly, nudging the orange juice towards the wistful mare.

“—a-and Hawaii?” she blurted out, almost spilling her juice with her twitching hoof. “Seeing Hawaii slowly get transformed by the Veil, seeing someone a-almost get caught by it?” Shuddered, placed her forehooves on her temples. “I didn’t want anyone to die! We had to distribute the potions, we had to tell them it was for their good, and it was good, but….”

Trailed off.

Sam looked at the door behind him. Now was the perfect time to get to work.

Crowhop snatched the glass and downed the juice in one go. She put it down, mouth stained by the wet color of orange. Gazed upon Sam with remorseful eyes. “I-I’m sorry to rant like this...and I know it’s not my best first impression today—” sniffed “—but—”

“It’s OK,” Sam interrupted, holding out one hand towards her and another on the door knob. “I’ll…I’ll just leave you be. Hope you get better.”

Crowhop rubbed a teary eye. “Yeah, I-I will. I’m very sorry for just dropping on you like th-that.”

Sam turned the knob, still focused on the recovering mare. “You’re alright?”

“I’ll be a-alright,” she said, smiling with her voice slowly returning to that perky normal.

He opened the door a few inches. “Have a good breakfast, Crowhop.”

Crowhop stuck out her tongue, trying to revive that liveliness. “Don’t you worry, Sam. It’s my favorite.”

Satisfied that she was better already, Sam quietly left the room.

---

Thoughts and speculations swamped his mind. He’d just seen more of the mare beyond the smile, beyond the perky quirks and that boundless bounty of energy only a purely sugar diet could produce.

Was she OK? Sure, he remembered some of the photos there, that even on a foreign planet, she had friends. A group picture came to the forefront, where all the staff members rounded up for a group hug, with Crowhop embracing them all with her forehooves. Some members were scratching at their squeezed necks, secretly hoping that she’d stop before they suffocated.

He hit upon a theory: Her active and tireless personality could be explained as a coping mechanism. Seeing a world with so many wonders, with so many new people, with so many new things—only to hear that it’ll be turned into something similar and familiar before the decade was out...and, helping these humans who now had a deadline on their humanity, too.

Did she wish that they could’ve met under better circumstances, when neither world was at stake? When Earth and Equestria could co-exist and stay relatively the same, learning from each other at their own pace?

However, his mind now had to go somewhere else as he exited his imaginations and returned to reality.

Sam and someone else sat down on two adjacent chairs in a little office of his own. There was nothing that quite distinguished it from other such offices: A few generic paintings of landscapes hung on the yellow walls along with a motivational poster saying It’ll work out like magic! Some potted plants were strewn about as they gave off a woody scent, and that was all.

The other man relaxed with both hands on the back of his head, looking up at the lights and remaining unfazed by the assault on his eyes. He had a self-styled twirly mustache, shiny like it’d been waxed. Then, he looked at Sam, and glanced at the table. “Why aren’t you sitting there?”

Sam rotated his hands a bit. “I want to make sure you feel as cozy as possible. I don’t want this to be clinical.”

“Right, right,” and that rested an elbow on his knee, pondering on what to say next.

Sam took a few seconds to breathe easy. He clicked his ballpen, steadied the clipboard on his lap. “So...Lacque? Am I pronouncing that right?”

“Whatever way you want, sir,” he said, spreading his hands out wide. “They’ll call me something else when I’m done with it and move to another job, so take the liberty.”

Sam nodded, pleased he wasn’t getting a pushover for a client. “Sure, let’s cut to the chase,” and scanned the paper which included Lacque’s vitals, other medical information, and preferred species-to-be with reasons why he chose them.

Which he left as blank.

“Lacque,” Sam said kindly, still wary about the pronunciation, “any reason why you didn’t fill this out ahead of time?” as he tapped a ballpen at the many straight lines with their empty spaces.

Lacque leaned back on his chair while getting a good view of the words he didn’t write. “I always change my answer when people ask me on the street. Personally, though? I don’t want to stress myself until the time’s right.”

Sam gave him an odd look. One’s life was at stake, and this man’s attitude was defying his expectations of human planning.

“I have, what, eight months until the city’s under an emergency?” Lacque explained, laidback in tone. “They haven’t changed much of the tech here. I can still function as a human pretty well, actually. When they start shrinking the doors and selling the shampoo in bulk—that’s when I’ll start jittering.”

Sam nodded, taking Lacque’s point of view in stride. “It’s not really necessary to answer those questions, anyway; just recommended. Nothing wrong with your kind of thinking, really. I myself want to enjoy my humanity as long as I still have it.”

“Then we’re on the same boat, then!” Lacque said, patting his supervisor on the back.

Sam was weirded out by this action, but he let it slide—maybe he used to be a motivational speaker. He glanced back at his clipboard and then asked, “So, Lacque, you want me to start or do you want to start?”

Lacque nodded back at him, gesturing with an open palm. “You go. I’d like to have an expert opinion on all available choices.”

While Sam didn’t consider himself an expert given that he was only volunteering, he chose not to disclose that and instead proceeded: “The most popular choice we have here is the pony potion,” and took out a photo of ponies socializing on a field, letting Lacque consider it.

“They’re a lot like our normal horses, but...they’re not. They’re divided into three tribes, namely Earth ponies, pegasi, and unicorns. Each of them possess their own brand of magic: Earth ponies have a magic connection to the earth and its plants, pegasi have a magic connection to the sky and the weather, and unicorns have a deeper understanding about magic itself.” Sam exhaled long and loud, letting out some steam. “Do you have a preference towards one of them?”

“Well...” Lacque tapped his chin, holding the photo up to his eyes. “Why would I be a simple Earth pony when you can fly as a pegasus or do magic spells as a unicorn?”

Sam straightened his head, knowing this question would pop up. “Earth ponies have stronger bodies than pegasi's and unicorns'; they can lift tons, punch and kick real bad, run a couple marathons and not get tired...and they're also great at balancing things, too. Aside from that, their connection to plants make them know many minute details about a crop or a flower simply by touching them and letting the magic do its works—very sympathetic to plants, really."

This volunteer breathed in, hoping Lacque wouldn't interrupt him in the defense of this tribe.

"Becoming an Earth pony requires the least amount of acclimation. It comes with the standard physical therapy for new ponies: learning how to walk on four legs, how to live without hands and fingers, how to not eat meat because you’ll be a lacto-ovo vegetarian, and how to not accidentally slam your tail when you close the door...with a session on what your cutie mark would mean and how to deal with it.” Sam paused, catching his breath. He also wanted to ensure that the client could digest the information. “An Earth pony would have to learn that and not much else. We have agriculture lessons along with some business crash courses, but you don’t need a degree or anything to get far in the Earth pony way.”

Lacque scrunched up his lips, his mustache furrowing about as he returned the photo to his interviewer. “Fair points, but let’s be blunt here: That’s nothing compared to flying around in the sky or learning advanced wizardry like what you’d see from the Harry Potter books.” He slouched on the chair, self-satisfied with his statement.

“Yes, that’s true” Sam confessed, “but, as I’ve said before, it takes time to get used to an extra pair of limbs or fully tapping into your magical energy. There’s a reason why lots of over-eager people end up struggling for weeks, if not months, adjusting to their own bodies.” With an open hand, “At least with an Earth pony, the both of us could relate to crawling on all fours.”

Having encountered such a counterargument, it was his turn to own up. “Uh-huh. I see.”

“Just had to make sure we’re on the same page here,” Sam remarked before moving on. He took a look at the potted plant, trying to get used to the long hour inside the office. “So, aside from that, you have a couple other choices that bypass some of the difficulties of being a pony.” He then handed out a picture which showed a couple griffons flying in the sky. “Griffons are half-avian and half-feline creatures though they’re generally half-eagle, half-lion. They usually go on four limbs, but they have claws, so you can still operate pretty well there save for two missing fingers.” He raised a finger: “You can also eat meat as a griffon, in case you’re wondering.”

“I do like my steak!” Lacque quipped. “Would be nice to keep that fine taste intact, even if it’s just a personal gripe.” He fixed his sleeves, maintaining his cool appearance for the occasion. “Anything else?”

“Not really.” Sam looked to the side, quickly thinking about what else to convey. “If we talk about their home kingdom of Griffonstone, they’re desperate for more griffons. It’s had a bad brain drain, what with their people scrounging up enough bits to leave that run-down dump.” He gave a caring smile, trying to get Lacque to sympathize. “They’re looking for enterprising griffons to kickstart another golden age for them.”

“With human innovation, huh?” Lacque asked, returning the griffon photo. “I like to see where these joint research efforts would go. It’d be nice to help out.”

“That’s true,” Sam said, hoping that man would say steer from the topic and try another choice.

Lacque put up his leg, hanging loose. “What about the hippogriffs? I heard they’re pretty similar since they’re also a half-bird species. They’re half-horse, but they have claws, too, and have that nifty place in Mount Aris.”

“It does sound nice and nifty,” Sam said, re-scanning the information on his clipboard and then glancing back to him, “but they’re very restrictive about new hippogriffs. Being a hippogriff entails being a seapony some of the time, and doing that requires possessing a shard of the Pearl of Transformation.” He felt weird that he could seriously say the name of some magical artifact with a straight face. “It’s in limited supply, so they’re not giving it out to just anyone.”

“I mean, I don’t care,” Lacque said, fixing his sleeves again. “I almost drowned in the sea some years back, so I’ll take being a permanent hippogriff.”

Sam took a second to remember how to respond. When he remembered that, he also remembered to show a photo of hippogriffs and seaponies on the beach. “While they technically can allow a permanent hippogriff, it’s seen as an oddity. Much of their culture involves a synergy of the two species as one.” He coughed, using that to fill up the verbal silence. “As of now, Queen Novo is allowing hippogriff potions to a select few. This bureau has only one such potion, and even then, you have to pass a few trials and a personal interview with the queen herself.”

“Really?” Lacque said, interest piqued at that exclusivity. “Must explain why Alina was frustrated about her hippogriff application yesterday.”

That name would’ve made Sam’s ears perk. “Does she live here, per chance?”

“My friend lives in Malaysia,” he replied. “Skudai, the last city before Singapore. Kind of like living in Brooklyn, but not really, if you know what I mean.”

Sam knew what he meant.

“But,” Lacque added, “if I did get the clearance for a hippogriff potion, I could try living under the sea. As long as it’s not busy-work, it’ll be good.”

“Yeah, it will be,” Sam said. Then, believing that they’d spent enough time on hippogriffs, he changed the subject. “Well, after that, we have Abyssinians. Cat people, if you’d like to retain as much of your humanity as possible.” He gave a picture of a couple Abyssinians relaxing at a hotel. One was even sipping a glass of mojito. “You have paws which aren’t exactly hands, but they’re more than enough. You usually stand on your two feet, so that’s a lot of work off therapy, too.” With another raised finger to grab his attention, “The only thing you have to get used to is using more shampoo and getting used to your tail, especially since it’s bigger than a pony’s.”

Lacque nodded once more, taking in the picture without holding it this time. “Sure, sure. Anything I have to watch out for if I become a Dr. Seuss look-a-like?”

“Not really,” though he wanted to add that Lacque would have to buy a silly hat. “You’d have more craving for fish, and there may be some feline instincts from the get go, but that’s a job for physical therapy once you’re decided.”

Lacque then opened his mouth with a silent Oh! like how one would react in a eureka moment. He stretching his hand towards one of the brochures beside his chair, attempting to grab it.

This made Sam somewhat uneasy, wondering what his next move would be.

Once Lacque got back up, he opened the brochure and said, “I know this might be weird, but what about we discuss one of your less popular choices?”

“Minotaur?” Sam suggested half-jokingly, immediately regretting that question and hoping he wouldn’t hear more of it.

“Like you’ll offer me contraband!” Lacque shouted in jest. “I’m talking about this.”

And he tapped his finger at a certain creature under the Species section.

Sam gulped at the selection.

---

“You really let him get away with it?” said the pony barista at the bureau’s coffee bar. “As in, you really let him get away with it?”

Sam was sitting down on a swivel chair, hand on the counter in the middle of his snack break as he inhaled the pervading smell of coffee. The lobby and lounge was a bit bare bones this time of the day, the late morning blues setting in with one receptionist yawning. The lounge was rather quiet, with much of the chatter done in hushes just louder than whispers.

Sam sipped a little of his black coffee. “I mean, it’s what he wants, so why complain?”

“That’s like signing his death warrant, or however you say it,” the mare said, putting in a few more bagels into the warm display case. “Downburst is more than willing to help—why’d you think we have a breezie therapist in the first place?” She sighed, disappointed at Sam’s deeds. “Yet, still...a breezie?”

“Think about it, Dark Roast,” Sam said, primed to defend himself. “You can’t just down a potion without signing some papers and going through social security. They still need to know your human name, your appearance, and so forth—that much we know.” He lifted his cup to make a point. “If you’re a breezie, you’re tiny on this big Earth. You could hide pretty much anywhere—under the couch, inside a guitar, behind a billboard.” With both hands on the counter: “This is your best chance to legally drop off the radar and start a new life. They’re lenient about where the new breezies would settle, so once a breezie gets the legal work done, he’s free.” He finally drank some more coffee, happy with his victory.

Dark Roast shook her head, seeing the victory as a Pyrrhic one.

“OK, maybe not to that extent,” Sam added, backtracking and relinquishing his short-lived victory. “He does want to get a restart in life somewhere far away and live out the rest of his life as a gardener. Lacque says he’s tired of doing manual work all the time back in his old job, so a change in pace is more than welcome.”

The barista cracked a smile, unknowingly letting her co-workers check the espresso machines for her. “Makes sense. Why not Earth pony, though?”

“He wanted no chances,” Sam answered. “If he’s an Earth pony, someone might take him back into a factory.”

Dark Roast cocked her head. “He could always say ‘No’.”

“Like I said: No chances. If he’s a breezie, there’s no way they’d ask him to carry stacks of paper.”

The mare thought about such a stack of paper squishing a poor breezie under its immense weight. “I’ll grant you that, Sam...I’ll grant you that.”

She left Sam to drink the rest of his coffee down, looking out and seeing the boulevard which was now free from heavy traffic. A few cars zoomed by, but it mostly stayed clean and pristine.

Already, he saw two changelings at Airplane Landing View Point. Past the tourists both human and Equestrian, he saw a green changeling being helped up by a blue one, her wings a little dirty from the dirt.

Sam was seeing Crowley doing her best to fly. He beamed at this learning changeling, this former human. “You can do it, Laura!” he whispered, knowing full well he wouldn’t be heard this far.

Comments

[Alex Warlorn]

Sam got up and brought his food over into the taxi.

What food? You didn't say a thing of him buying anything. In particular when you went to the trouble of describing him seeing the pony at the restaurant smiling and waving but not hearing what she was saying.

Do you have an editor?

Who is Arthur again?

“I see that you’re suffering.”

How is that suffering?

“sorry, but I’m super allergic to meat."

"YOU'RE MADE OF MEAT STUPID!"

Custom light bulbs, the world is full of all kinds.

Interesting Crowhop's little break down.

Remember that the characters move a story forward, action and dialogue.

When they start shrinking the doors and selling the shampoo in bulk—that’s when I’ll start jittering.”

HEH!

Sam's exposition with Lacque feels natural and unobtrusive.

...with a session on what your cutie mark would mean and how to deal with it.”

Assuming one appears right then.

Earth ponies also have super-strength and super endurance, and seems have varying degrees of Chloromancy.

I LIKE Sam's discussion with Lacque, feels like the highlight of the chapter!

"Being a hippogriff entails being a seapony some of the time,"

Not really. I doubt Queen Novo can split the pearl into infinite sub parts. I doubt being a 'two for one sale' species has always been their thing.

"specially since it’s bigger than a pony’s.”"

You forgot they're also diet dedicated predators.

You forgot the merponies. Who DO NOT LIKE being lumped together with the hippogriffs and the "fake sea ponies."

"AHH! Evil changeling!"

"... I LIKE BEING BLACK YOU JERKS!"

Ah yes, the breezie, the fairies of the pony world. Surprised there aren't more little girls asking for that after the unicorns.

And Sam didn't mention the DRAGONS! Sure, old people become teenagers, and collage age people become BABY dragons, but it's still a 'get in while you can' since there's a cap on the allowed number of dragon converts!

There's also the changelings, but I imagine it'll shock and confuse natural changelings when the converts aren't all 'follow the leader' "the leader is bad/good so the swarm is bad/good."

I imagine species/race loyalty NOT being a universal things is confusing to Equus creatures since their nations are 90% along species lines!

“Think about it, Dark Roast,”

Who?

Who is Downburst?

Nice logic with the breezie.

[PeachClover]

I agree with Alex that Earth Ponies have super endurance - Pinkie Pie's bouncing all day long, super strength - Applejack's hadoukenating the striker through the bell on the bell kicking carnival game, and chloromancyurgy - I didn't know this had a word, but it's kind of like the pony extending his or her spirit into flora as if the plant or tree in question were a second body. Doing this an Earth Pony can cause plants to grow, heal them if they are sick, know their needs, and fortify them against the changes of the seasons.

I believe that the range of abilities for each type of pony is equal in potential, and even though it might be a common misconception, unless this difference is necessary for the story, I would like to request that it is represented as such.

[Comma Typer]

9221870
Yeah, I should've known that was a necessary thing to add, considering that there should be some more Earth ponies who'll till the earth and provide the food for all ponies to eat. I'm sorry that I've forgotten it. I'll fix that one up shortly, too.

[Ardashir]

9220445
And Sam didn't mention the DRAGONS! Sure, old people become teenagers, and collage age people become BABY dragons, but it's still a 'get in while you can' since there's a cap on the allowed number of dragon converts!

I admit, something I'd like to see would be a 'dragon interview' where someone gets the lowdown on what becoming a dragon means and what you'll have to learn. I was figuring 'learn to fly, learn how to and when NOT to breathe fire, how to take care of scales, remember to be careful with your fangs and claws'... There's probably a lot more.

And hmm, the idea about Novo speaking with people who want to become hippogriffs makes me wonder, would Ember or one of her dragons have a talk with someone who wanted to join them?