Welcome reader to The Wacky Wonderful Revolving Door!
This is my own personal take on The Conversion Bureau. "But Krass, you already wrote three to five other TCB fics!" You might say, HOWEVER, An Azure Future took place in Windchaser's TCB and One for the road took place in standard or chatoyance (despite predating it, it fits). Me Myself and I was a collab in the standard universe. George Bush Invades equestria CAN be interpreted as a TCB story, but lets leave that train wreck alone.
This is something by itself all together. If there can be a ponification potion, then why not one for Gryphons, zebras, sea ponies, dragons, elephants, kangaroos and even... humans? What if potions could be bought in variety pack for 15$ at Walmart? What if you could choose what kinda pony you'd be? What if something such as species was a trivial matter, a paper thin veil?
This a universe where these things are a reality. This is a universe where a hangover could come with hooves, a water gun fight marking the losers with wings, a paintball fight resulting with horn. Where you could wake up, pop an earth pony potion, grow breakfast, change back and eat it. Where that group of overly exicted kids is Cheerilee's class. This is that universe.
This will be a collection of short stories set in such a universe. If something gets a bit long, I might give it a seperate post.
So I woke up with a hangover... A Wacky Wonderful Revolving Door TCB fic.
My first though upon waking up? Ow. Just. Bucking. Ow. My second one? I was pony. Just did a ponyism, dead give away. My third thought was a classic, age old question: what the buck happened last night?
I groan lightly, mentally/metaphorically grab my balls, and roll out of bed. The searing paing became an inferno as the much too bright room and floor hit me all at once. I gave a much more enthusiastic groan. "For Celestia's sake, turn off the light!" I moaned to the housekeeper AI.
"Right away m'am." the otherwise melodious mechanical voice chimed. Right now it felt like it had taken a jack hammer to my brain. Wait... M'am?! I checked, panicking. Yup, mare. I just ran out of Male-ifing potions last week, I wasnt expecting someone to try the old "Spike the kool aid with r63 potion" trick again so soon.
I was going to have to go to the market. Celestia damn it and Celestia damn these ponyisms. First things first... "Gimmie a potion, and hangover protocol."
"Any preference m'am?" The machine whispered at a barely audible level.
"Just... anything besides pony!" I ordered. A few agonizing moments later, there was a mechanical whirring as a small flask with a straw in it was delivered outside of my fort of tangled sheets. I poked my head back out and quickly sipped the three ounces. Mmm, beer flavored. I was rendered unconscious.
I woke up a few moments later, human. Still female however. They say that, long ago, there used to be conversion dreams, but ever since the made the human and gryphon potion they dont happen anymore. At least not often. I rose from my sheets on the ground, feeling rejuvenated. Potion, it cures what ails ya.
I walked over to the dresser, opening it. Inside was an impressive collection of clothes varying in color, fabric, and style as much as species. I chose some loose blue jeans and white t-shirt. Tightened the pants with a belt and then I was ready.
"Alright, hold down the fort, I'm going to the market." I called out to AI as I grabbed my keys and some money from the counter.
"Yes m'am." It affirmed as it readied the security measures, not that they were as used as they were in the old days, but better safe than sorry.
I exited my apartment and walked to the elevators, hitting the summon button. A few moments later a cheerful ding announced its arrival. I got in and puched the 'L' in. The elevator began its decent, stopping and opening at the lobby. I exited the elevator. "Hey Alex! Heh, or should I say Alexandra?" I turned to face the gryphon I call a friend. I use the word lightly.
"Did you do this Mike?" I accused. He had been the one to put the cherry potion in my drink last week.
"Hahahahahaaaa, no man this one wasnt me. Dig did it this time." Mike laughed.
"Dig? Seriously? The guy wont even drink a potion unless he's sick!" I was quite suprised, Dig was the kind guy who was so deep in his own world it was bound to intersect with earth like Equestira did.
"Yeah I know, surprising. We were just trying to get him out of his shell bro." Mike defended.
"Heh, it's alright, I just had a hell of a hangover this morning." Oh swearing, how I missed you. "Hey, so I'ma head to the market. I'll be back whenevs." I said my farewell and started towards the exit.
"Alright, see ya!" Mike waved good bye before heading towards the stairs.
I exited the apartment complex, it was once a conversion bureau. Way back when Equestria had first came to Earth, they made conversion bureaus where people could become ponies. They didnt even have any other potions, just pony. I think they did it because of the economy or something, I dunno. Maybe they were just really bored. I never payed much attention in history.
The sun shone delicately, creating temperate weather. A few low hanging clouds with pegasi one them, more pegasi playing tag in the air. A good number of gryphons flew about as well. On the street level, groups of diamond dogs, humans, ponies of all colors and races, dragons and a few other races walked the streets. There was even a chageling or two walking about sans disguise. All in All it was a normal day in Arizona.
I set off to the local market that carries a good selection of potion. They even occasionally had specialties, such as Alicorn or even a pony with a specific talent. The store in question was none other than the liqour and potion emporium. It was a bit bigger than the average liqour and potion store, but not the biggest in town.
The side walk was hot, but not too burning as I walked towards my goal. A comfortable burn nonetheless. I reached my goal and entered the emporium. The wonderful scent of various potion's aromas colliding filled the air. I headed past the liqours to the potion section. There it was, blue vial, male symbol on it. I grabbed three of them and eyed the selection. Today feels like a Gryphon day. I grabbed the appropriate vial and checked out.
"Already Alex? You just got three male-ifying vials a month ago!" The pony at the counter noted.
"Heh, you complaing about repeat buisness Golden?" I retorted.
"Well who was it this time?" Golden Bit asked, curious..
"Dig, if you can be believe it." I awnsered, the look on his muzzle was priceless.
"Ha! Now thats a good joke!" He chortled.
"Eh, thats just what I've been told." I shrugged.
"Anyways," He ringed me up and bagged the four potions, "That'll be ten seventy five." I handed him a ten and a five dollar bill, and he gave me my change.
"See ya later Alex!" Golden called.
I stepped outside, it was a beautiful day and it had only just begun.
-_-_-_-_-AUTHOR'S NOTES-_-_-_-_-
This was kinda an introductory story and something to help the fic get published and out there. Hopefully, the next one would be better.
Alex crossed the street, appreciating the sunshine more every second she was outside. She knew she looked good as a human female, and sure enough beings of several species and a variety of sexial orientations could not help but look her way as she strutted down the sidewalk.
When she turned the corner her attitude quickly changed to stealth mode. She tried to be as discrete and invisible as possible. On the outside, her smile dissapeared, and she began walking as if she was just another working stiff on her way to the daily grind. On the inside, her smile grew in magnitude and wickedness as she approached the drugstore.
Before entering she looked surreptitiously up and down the street. Nope, no-one she knew. She entered and went quickly to the back of the pharmacy, near the prescription counter, scanning the signs above the various end-caps and displays.
Feather care "Nope," she said to herself.
Nail, Hoof, and Claw Products "Nu-uh."
Hair, Mane and Tail Coloring "Geez, where is it?"
Multi-species contraceptives This section was always good for a laugh, but she didn't have time today.
Oldspice It had almost a whole aisle given to all sorts of species specific variations. Alex snickered recalling the really cheesy adds of that actor changing species and sex in really creative sequences. "Nope. Ah there!" She spied her querry.
Approaching the display she quickly scanned the shelves and chose the bottle advertising the longest lasting effect: two months. This was gonna be good! And it was gonna give someone a taste of their own medecine, with bonus time for reflection.
She paid at the drug counter just to make sure no-one saw her making her purchase. "Fuck! They don't give this shit away, do they?" she asked the cashier, a cute little unicorn mare when she rang up the bill. There mare blushed and politely declined to answer as she handed Alex the bottle in a small paper bag. Alex grabbed the bag and rolled it up tightly, stuffed it into a pocket as discretely as possible and left the pharmacy.
Back around the corner and heading home, her smile came back big time. It practically split her head ear to ear. Revenge would be sweet, and Alex's justice would be merciless and terrible! In one hand she held a bag of different potions. And in her pocket, her other hand held a vial of "Nan-No Door-Stop" certified nanite inhibitor. The two-months-one-hundred-percent-no-conversion-possible kind. She just had to think of how to get the bastard to take them in the right order.
A young man was doing his precombat checklist before he entered the heavily guarded building with his four team mates. Helmet? Check. Kevlar Vest? Check. Camouflage? Check. Rifle? Check. Pistol? Check. Ammo? Check. KABAR? Check Mission was a go, the man in a soldiers guise turned to his team and gave them a thumbs up. Each member returned the signal after preforming the checks them selves. They each knew they mission, they were all well aware of the risks at hand.
The young man, known as 'Sky' to his freinds gave the signal to stack on him. The third man ran from his spot to the door, the fourth and fifth men filling the gap 'Cloud', 'Wind', and 'Breeze' respectively. He gave a nod to the man in front of Sky, 'Rain', to warn that he was about to breech. He returned the nod and Cloud booted in the door as hard as he could, stepping off to the other side of door to make way.
Rain never made it past the fatal funnel, immeaditly upon entering the doorway several rounds entered his chest. Sky pressed foward, trampling on Rain. Hesitation meant certain death, it was too late for Rain anways. Sky unloaded into the gunner, Wind doing the same. He moved up his side, going the path of least resistance, Wind moving up the opposite side the rest staggered there movement the same.
One gunner, intel said five. Two more rooms. Sky looked at Rain, fifty percent of the time the first man in died. Fifty Percent. There would be some serious drilling after this to make sure this would not be repeated. But there is no time for mourning, not right, not in the middle of combat.
Sky Signaled to stack on Wind, The door being closest to him. Sky doubled back and picked up rear security as the fourth man in the stack. He issued the order to check mags, ejecting the used one and popping in a fresh one himself. Breeze removed himself from the stack and Sky filled the gap. The stack leaned back then lurched foward as Breeze kicked the door in. A machinegun, an RPK by the sound of it, unloaded into him and Wind, although Wind got a few rounds off before falling.
Breeze and Sky owned their entry, taking down the machine gunner as Wind was still falling. Their attentions turned to the other two rifle men in the room, holding positions behind over turned desks. Sky flipped his IAR into fully automatic and seemlessly unloaded into the desk on his side. Breeze did the same, but not before the rifle man got a few rounds into him.
Sky was alone. One room and one tango left. Sky tossed his IAR, he wouldnt be needing it. He drew out his Glock 19 and turned the taclight he attached to it on. He drew a long deep breath and exhaled. There was no telling what was on the other side. He opened the door and headed inside.
It was empty. Sky looked around, confused. Then it hit him, behind the door. Just as he spun around, the door flew closed and the last tango came barreling out from behind it, knife drawn. The enemy knocked the glock out of Sky's hand as he pulled the trigger, the solitary shot going into the roof. The tango slashed at Sky, going wide and leaving just enough time for him to draw his own knife.
The two men faced off, knives drawn. Moments passed like hours. It was the tango that made the first move, swinging with his left and stabbing with his right. Sky ducked under to the left and drove his Kabar home, into the tango's throat. He let go and let him drop to the floor.
The fight was over. Sky had won.
-_-_-_-_-
Four ponies and one human walked down the street. "Ha! Rain died first! Just like I told you he would!" Breeze boasted.
"Now, now, Rain hasnt been playing as long as we have. Horsefeathers, this is his first time using the patch!" Cloud corrected. The patch of course referred to an enchanted piece of adhesive fabric holding potion that delivers it into the system upon fatal wounds.
"Celestia in socks, does it ALWAYS hurt bad?" Rain complained.
"Yup!" Cloud and Breeze said simultainously.
"Man, you think a few seven six two is bad? They unloaded half a drum into me!" Wind sneared. Always the new ones that complain about getting shot or blown up or some such.
"Bro, I got the fucking dvd for that shit! That knife kill was the fucking shit!" Sky boasted.
"Yeah, yeah, you're never going to shut up about being last man standing and getting a knife kill in the same match." Wind rolled his eyes.
"Would you shut up about wind? Would you really?" Sky retorted.
"Well I dont know about y'all, but I'm hungry! Lets eat!" Cloud grinned.
The group uttered agreements and continued onwards to the local diner.
-_-_-_-_-AUTHOR'S NOTES-_-_-_-_-
Holy crap this was fun to write. Finally use all that infantry training in my fics eh?
Human race would SO do live ammo skirmishes like paintball or airsoft with live round if we had a way to not die.
She moved with the grace of a cat, primarily because she was a cat, well, partly a cat. She was an anthropomorphic cat, the result of a dose of quasi-legal underground potion. The unsanctioned private labs - less laboratory and more basement or garage - enjoyed profit from playing with primal fire, specifically the fire of life itself. Any person - and that word, 'person' had become redefined incredibly widely over the last several years - could easily become a proper Griffon, or Human, or Pony, or Dragon, or Diamond Dog, or Alicorn, or Buffalo. But there was a special class of person who could never be satisfied with being a proper anything. No, what they wanted was anthropomorphism, a twisted blend of human and animal characteristics. Ponies that walked upright and who had hands. Humans with the heads of animals, and the tails of animals, and the genitals of animals but the bodies of Men.
They were the lowest of the low, the most despised of the geeks and the freaks and the weirdos and the diaper-lickers and even lower than the fans of pillows with pictures of anime girls on them. The furries. They stalked the internet and howled at the digital moon. And Peridot Thursday was married to one of them.
Only she wasn't Peridot Thursday during those times when she was bothered to be married to Tiger Bronson. He actually was a tiger, of course, well, half of a tiger. He was an anthropomorphic tiger, and he ran the Furskin Club.
The Furskin Club was a hangout for those who preferred the despised Anthropomorphic Lifestyle - 'Theros' they were called or 'Freaks' by most. It was part bar, part restaurant, and part sex club. The front was for eating, and the maze of rooms in the back was for more carnal appetites. There was an entrance fee and a gratuity, up front. Far, far in the back was the 'Kinkatorium' - a secret repository of custom potions that provided anthropomorphic results.
Peridot received a third of her considerable income from her life as Missus Slashclaw Bronson. Tiger was a fierce entrepreneur, and virtually all of his time was spent running his empire - the Furskin Club on 33rd was not the only such establishment, either in town, or on the continent. Furskin was a global enterprise, and though underground, it brought in significant wealth.
That said, Tiger needed his Tender Vittles at least once a month from the Missus, and the Missus needed her creditstick well full to fund her lifestyle. Today was such a day. Tiger snatched Slashy - his pet name for his wife - up as though she were a bag of meat, and flung her into one of the carnality chambers in the back. The door sealed, he leaped upon her and rough, growling sex ensued, filled with snarls and bites and more than a few drops of blood. Tiger was not one for smalltalk, something the missus appreciated. When his animalistic appetites had been sated, Tiger left with a few licks of his long, rough tongue.
Slashclaw raised her despoiled, wounded, felinoid form from the E-Z Clean mattress and growled out the order to sterilize the room as she left. She headed to the showers and washed the mess from her fur. When she had dried, thanks to the industrial blowers provided, she slipped out the back using the secret code. When she was three blocks away, she hailed a pegasus chariot-cab, and gave her destination.
In the air, Peridot reached into the voluminous Adapti-Purse she carried everywhere. The material of her purse could change color and pattern at a signal from the app in her Flatpad. The purse changed from tiger stripes to pitch black with sparkling stars, the alteration rippling over the chromomorphic material like a strange wave in an ocean of fabric.
The flatpad held Peridot's Farley File - a list of who she knew, what she knew about them, and who she needed to be in relation to them.The listing for Tiger Bronson looked like this:
TIGER BRONSON $$$$$ Male Realname: Jonas P. Fasbinder BIRTHDAY Oct. 21st. ANNIV: April 13th YOU ARE MARRIED TO HIM YOU are SLASHCLAW BRONSON YOU are Feline Futaform Anthrope (Potion FAF-003 from Cat's Eye [address]) HE likes rough sex and growling. Be dominant, then submit. HE is Conservative and HATES LIBERALS ERO ZONE: Ears, tail and frenulum NO-NO: Anus. Bad experience in stir. He pitches, you catch. NOTE: Get birthday present early. Human-skin Cockring. [Hypernet Link] PROBLEMS: Few. In and out. No fuss, no muss.
Below, the city rushed past, a little too fast. Peridot asked the pegasai to slow down and take the trip easy. Yes, she understood it would cost more, she had the dosh. Relieved, Peridot settled back again.
What was next? Shopping? No. Peridot sighed. According to her schedule on her Flatpad, it was another income source. Work before pleasure.
Peridot dug through her bag and pulled out her potion case. A touch of the active surface, and it opened, revealing a multitude of the highest grade concentrates. Oh! Silly... she needed to know what she had to become! Peridot checked the Farley File on her fiancee.
CINNAMON SWIRLS $$$ Female Realname: Candy Drop, AKA Janet Berk, AKA Cinnamon Toast BIRTHDAY: Jan 3rd YOU ARE ENGAGED TO HER YOU are LEAFY GREENS YOU are Earthpony Mare (Potion R-Standard CHERRY) SHE likes gentle, shy, pure, kindness She is Liberal and HATES NO-ONE ERO-ZONE completely clitorally centered. NO-NO: Anything male. Militant dyke. NOTE: Be shy and submissive, but confident at end. She likes thinking she's making you stronger as a mare. PROBLEMS: Somewhat clingy. See excuse file Gamma.
Oh, good thing for the Farley! Peridot quickly changed her purse to white with pink hearts, and picked out the R-Standard Cherry potion. Peridot downed the potion and slumped in the back of the chariot.
A pegasus was shaking her. "Wake up, ma'am! You're at your destination! See?"
Leafy Greens shook her delicate pony head. Her ears slowly raised with her awareness. "Oh, thank you! I'm sorry if I caused any inconvenience!" She paid the pegasai, and added in a large tip. "Take care! Happy flying!"
Peridot adjusted her Adapti-Purse straps, converting it into saddlebags. She wished she'd remembered to do this back when she had hands. It was a busy day today. With the white and pink saddlebags over her light green back, Leafy was ready to meet her lover.
Cinnamon Swirls ran a noteworthy hypernet site that served mares "Equestrian and otherwise, who see the eternal worth and power of womyn-spirit in both worlds". Her income was significant, because she ironically ran ads for kink materials 'sapping the life-force of those who oppress womyn, in order to raise womyn higher!" was her rationalization. It was thanks to Cinnamon's advertising income choice, years ago, that Peridot had met Tiger in the first place. Only recently had Peridot managed to get Cinnamon to consider marriage. But then, only recently had Cinnamon crossed the vital three $$$ mark minimum required to be of interest to Peridot.
Inside the Marespirit Collective, a large nanofab building designed to look like Equestrian architecture, Leafy Greens met her fiance shyly. Delicately they embraced, and chatted about their day - Leafy's day was invented, and very different than Peridot's in ever respect - and then went for tea and haycakes in the Collective Kitchen.
"Oh, you are such a cutie! Oh, just look at you!" Cinnamon was easily delighted by a few cute blushes and the occasional nervous fumble. Peridot had worked hard to find just the right pattern of behaviors that pleased Cinnamon the most. She loved seeing Cinnamon smile at innocence. It was quite a thrill for the world-weary Peridot.
"Well, I mean... um..." Leafy trailed off, looking over her tea cup at the larger Cinnamon.
"Have you thought about what music you would want for the wedding?" Peridot hadn't considered it at all. She'd been far to involved in... other things.
"Um... well... I thought that maybe... if YOU had a favorite, maybe... if you wanted..."
"Oh, Leafy, Leafy..." Cinnamon was in lecture mode now "you really need to be more assertive! You don't need to rely on others to tell you what you think or want or need or feel! I want you to come up with something you prefer, something you want, and we'll use that, alright! That's what I want. I want you to feel worthwhile and important!"
Peridot thought to herself - what if what I want is to not be bothered with making the choice, then what? - but did not vocalize it. Leafy Greens, on the other hoof, suddenly brightened "Yes! You are absolutely right! I will spend some time and decide for myself! You are so good for me, Cinnamon! Always making me stronger!"
Cinnamon beamed, as usual. That was what Peridot loved about her - Cinnamon really did want to make others stronger. Sadly, whether or not they wanted it, but still, her heart was in the right place.
Nuzzles and chaste kisses later, Leafy Green was off to ostensibly find the perfect components to the perfect wedding, while Cinnamon returned to running her growing Womyn-Spirit Empire. Peridot made a mental note to get Shaggy Sheepster to arrange everything. Sheep potion was brand new and her old strictly-gay friend had embraced the 'Woolen Revolution'. He was fantastic at arranging things. That would take care of it all.
Traveling now by lifting body, Peridot woke up inside the complimentary 'Changing Room' of the aerostat. She had taken Human H-23 XX Geno 14/A/C and found herself in the form of Mika Fergison, her new half Japanese, half Scottish human persona. She hadn't completely worked out the backstory yet, but she liked the look. It wasn't quite as classy as her half Chinese, half African human form, but there was a subtle quality to the style of her Mika self that she appreciated. Not every body had to be dramatic. Subtlety was a dying art, she had decided.
Peridot's Mika persona had been appreciated, however, by an incredibly guapo young man who was her newest toy. Peridot defined her contacts with others into four classes. There were Keepers, like Tiger and Cinnamon, who both satisfied parts of her personal needs, and who also supported her lifestyle, there were Background, the everyday acquaintances and friends-at-arms-length that made up the bulk of the population. Shaggy was a high-level Backgrounder. Then there were Toads, those who caused her problems or who vexed or thwarted her, and lastly, there were Toys. Alfonso Navarro was a Toy, her New Toy, in fact, and Peridot - or rather 'Mika' was quite entranced by him.
ALFONSO NAVARRO $???? Male Realname: Alfonso? BIRTHDAY ? YOU ARE INTERESTED IN HIM YOU are MIKA FERGISON YOU are HUMAN FEMALE (Potion H-23 XX Geno 14/A/C) HE likes YOU. So far. A lot. HE is AN UNKNOWN, but very pleasing. ERO ZONE: Find out!!! NO-NO: UNKNOWN. Be careful! NOTE: He is unbelievably genuine. Such a sweety!!! PROBLEMS: Zero so far. He could be Much Fun. REMEMBER: Don't talk about your past. Not invented yet!
"Mika! It is a delight to see you again!" Oh, that charmer. Peridot had changed her saddlebag back into a purse, and turned it shiny and black. Simple, elegant. She had put on the dress she had delivered by pegasus courier to the airship on route, it too was black, and set off the pale skin of her body well. She had joined Alfonso at the revolving restaurant on the Famous Tower - she couldn't remember what it was famous for, it hardly mattered. Alfonso was handsome, the food was good, and... Alfonso was handsome.
Over drinks and dinner, Mika and Alfonso chatted the empty but pleasant words of a couple deep in infatuation but with little to actually say. There were giggles and laughs, sighs and jokes, and all the standards that were the peculiar dance of human courtship. Peridot rather enjoyed human courtship - Anthropomorphs were very direct, and that was fun sometimes, and Ponies were terribly innocent and delicate, and that was fun other times, but there was something unique about how humans did things. It was a strange tension between desire and denial of desire that Peridot hadn't gotten enough of in recent memory.
"Mika..." suddenly Alfonso seemed strangely serious, in a way that did not match the mood of the evening thus far. "...I wonder if I might speak with you. I have something... I need to tell you."
Peridot wished she could just haul out her Farley File right at the table. It would save a lot of having to remember. "Of course, Alfonso. I want our relationship to be an honest one!" And she did. Peridot was attracted to the simple, plain, naturalness of her new Latin toy. She strongly suspected the plainspoken man was a Plainjane - one of several slang terms for those that never took potion.
"Yes... Alfonso?"
He shifted in his chair at the table, clearly uneasy. "I have come to like you, Mika, very much. And I would like our... relationship..." It was so cute. Alfonso had looked up at here, to make sure that his choice of words was an appropriate one, that Peridot was OK with describing what they had with that term. Peridot gave Alfonso a warm smile, inwardly tickled by his manner.
"... that our relationship," Alfonso repeated the word, now with more confidence "is built upon a solid foundation. To that end, I... well, I feel I must confess something."
Oh, this was just precious, Peridot/Mika thought. Did he once have another girlfriend? Perhaps he was a virgin, and was afraid to admit it. Or maybe he would just admit that he was a Plainjane, and beg her to accept his charming quirkiness. Peridot could not help but lean closer.
"You see, Mika, I have not been entirely honest with you, about my life." Here it comes. The moment was charming, really. "You see before you an ordinary man, a plain man. I am Alfonso Navarro, a man who greatly enjoys your company."
Mika twirled one of the strands of her dark, long hair around her finger.
"But I was not always thus. Two years ago, I was not as you see me now. Once, only once, in my entire life - I swear it - I used 'potion'. Before I was Alfonso, I was known as Butter Churn, and I worked on a farm. I was a native of Equestria, a pony. But the life of a human called to me, and so I made a new existence for myself as you see me now, as Alfonso. I just thought that you should know."
Mika stopped twirling her hair and sat up rigidly straight. How dare he! Peridot had been certain he was the real deal, the genuine article, an authentic Plainjane, pure as the original human genome. The rarest and most exotic sort of person, Plainjanes of any kind were the most sought after companions purely because of their rarity. Alfonso was just another Gene Queen, and at the kiddy end of the gene pool at that.
Peridot stood up, grabbed her bag, and scowled. "It's over, Alfonso - or should I say Butter Churn." She said the word like she was swearing. Peridot turned and began to storm off.
"But why? I thought we had such a wonderful time together? I only wanted to..." Alfonso was heartbroken.
Peridot was so very disappointed and frustrated. She'd been seeing Alfonso for weeks. "How can I trust you? - you completely misrepresented yourself!"
And with that, Peridot stomped away, leaving a disconsolate Alfonso.
Bill was born to a Judy and Calvin Tillings in a small town in Arizon, year nineteen ninety eight. He lived a nice quiet life, that is until he was about fifty five. A barrier opened up in the Atlantic ocean, just off the coast of New York.
It was then the ponies came, and shortly after, potion. The first potion openly available was freely given to all who sought it. It was the basic, iconic potion. Purple in color, grape in flavor. Turned humans into ponies.
Then, what was later called 'the potion reveloution' came. Apparently, The other species that held sovereignty in Equestria didn't like being left out on the action. The gryphons somehow managed to wrest themselves into the first slot for a potion. The dragons, diamond dogs, buffalo and even deer followed shortly.
Then, came the final swing of the revolution, the humanification potion. Now there was freedom of species and gender. Bill was there. From the very start he was there.
Now, potion had a very... curious effect. A man dying of any cause would come out a healthy young adult of whatever race the potion made him. Any cause. Even age.
Bill was on his death bed, surronded by countless loved ones. Partners, friends and children. There was hundreds of ponies, humans, gryphons and even an odd dragon or diamond dog standing around Bill's death bed.
Bill had made innumerable freinds and even a large amount of enemies over the millennia. He had seen nations, empires and fads rise and fall to the passages of time. But he was old, dreadfully, horribly old. He might have had the spry body of a twenty two year old only fifty years ago, but his mind was ancient. A living history book. It was high time he left.
He chose to go out the way he came in, human. It was only right. It was the only way to go.
Thunder approached him. Once, before ponies had come, he was known as Mike, he was his closest and oldest friend. At a time they had even been lovers, albeit only as an experiment. "So, are you sure about this Mike?" He asked hopefully.
"Thunder, I love you like a brother. But its time I've joined the rest of my family." Mike awnsered, a tone of finality in his voice. He was close. He felt it in his bones. He could already see the tunnel of light obscuring his vision.
He looked around. All were crying, some were sharing hushed stories of his more adventurous days. Plundering a trap filled cove in Equestria. Fisticuffs with a princess. Raising the sun. Fighting a dragon. Backpacking the Everfree. Protecting a conversion bureau despite not being a guard. His first conversion as a result. Those were just the big adventures.
He felt a sudden pang in his chest and his vision went from under hi.. His last thoughts were of his youth. If he had any inkling, even the slightest clue of the events ahead of him, He would have done everything exactly the same. It had been a hell of a ride.
-_-_-_-_-AUTHOR'S NOTE-_-_-_-_-
:
A bit short and not as good, but world building FTW.
Also, read Chaytoyances thing and dont down vote this because she wrote a damn story in it. This universe makes misanthropy impossible. So shut up. Its good and you should read.
Disclaimer: this story is the result of my opening my big trap, and a seriously nasty itch to do some world building. So don't expect any major character development. I hope others will take up the ideas presented and pursue them all the way to the post-singularity Mick Jagger.
***
It was called to be the war to end all wars. The war that changed how we define ourselves and what it means to be a thinking being. The war that created the three worlds and gave birth to our civilization.
Of course, I am talking about the Techno-Magic war.
Like most such conflicts, it started small. It grew faster than anyone could have imagined and left in its wake broken lives and broken families, and damage to society that would take decades, even centuries to heal. Its roots go back to the late 20th and early 21st centuries, to the early online communities and especially the gamers. They had no idea where their obsessions would lead them when the paired arrivals of the direct neural interface and Equestrian conversion potion provided two divergent paths to the granting of their every wish, two competing philosophies about being that grew from simple ideas to become dire examples of the extremes to which people will go to fullfill their desires.
- Opening paragraphs of the introduction of "From the other side: what came before the Singularity" by Sir Michael Philip "Mick" Jagger, PhD., Chair of the History Department of Oxford, Prof. of Philosophy Cambridge, and lead singer of "The Rolling Stones"
***
"Oh, come on Effie. We're gonna be late. Again." George was pissed at the delay. This was nothing new. Ever since he had chosen Diamond Dog as his "main morph" five years previous patience had not been his strong suit. His life-partner (they lived in one of those quaint former American states where marriage was defined as being 'between a man and a woman', so they could not call each other husband and wife as neither was primarily human any more,) had pretty much continually been a dragon since she had tried it out a year before they got marri... er 'partnered'.
"Coming George." Effie flew out of the French doors at the front of their little bungalow in suburban Charlotte. As soon as she was out George jumped onto her back and she gained a bit of altitude, high enough to clear the trees and rooftops, but still low enough not to require filing a flight plan. On the way out they passed the big black billboard that said only "In His image?" in stark white letters. Obviously added afterwards was the spray painted ouline of a human hand, with the letters HLF on its palm. It appeared two days after George, Effie and the kids moved in, and despite the anti-graffiti laws it still had not been removed after two months. This bothered Effie more than George, but still not enough for them to decide to move back into the city with its more 'modern' attitudes, or adopt human guises for social contacts only.
They liked the way they were. Their choices of body plan worked for them on so many levels it was hard to count them all. Wings made commuting to and from the suburbs easier, George was a geologist who could dig through solid rock, sometimes he brought back interesting samples for Effie to taste. Effie found dragon magic and flight quite handy indeed in her real-estate brokerage business. George could operate most machinery as well as when he was in human form. And the sex was, if either was asked (and some people did) inhumanly great!
In fact their biggest concern was the children, a son and a daughter, ten and twelve respectively. They had decided to keep the children human on purely practical grounds, essentially because in the suburbs it was still easier (and cheaper) to find human schooling, sports teams and provide other such 'kid social growth activities'. It did cause some friction for the kids when a dragon or dog showed up to ball-games, school picnics and parent-teacher nights. On the flip side, at family events the kids also got pretty jealous of cousins who were allowed to choose their main morphs on their own, showing off their flying or magical abilities to their 'stuck as boring humans' relatives.
Perhaps the biggest problem was technology, or rather the difficulty of using it around magic users. It drove the kids up the wall when their games crashed or their Internet connection died whenever mom or dad entered the room. Effie was concerned that the kids were now purposely avoiding them. She was reading every book she could get her claws on that discussed interspecies families and how to make them work. She was thinking exactly about this when the missile hit.
Whoever had launched the missile had probably not considered a few general facts about dragons, and one particular fact about Effie. The former was that dragons have an extremely tough armour plate hide so if you're going to fire something at a dragon be sure it's really BIG, make sure it contains no electronics because of the degrading effect of magic, and keep in mind that dragons are to a very great extent fire-proof. The latter was that Effie felt happiest in dragon form due to certain character traits that endeared her to her life-partner, but often left others feeling quite the opposite.
The missile hit her squarely in the belly, which gave her a major shock and knocked George off her back. He plumetting to earth screaming "Eefffiiieeeeeee!" on the way down. Luckily for George they weren't that high and he managed to land in a tree. Unluckily for the guy who launched the missile, it was the yard next to the one where he was standing, with the missile launcher still on his shoulder. In clear sight of Effie.
Effie roared. Not like a lion. She roared like a dragon. The neighborhood shook with the magnitude of it. People a mile away looked to the skies and feared for their lives. But not as much as the guy with the missile launcher.
"Holy shit!" he said, dropped his weapon and ran for the house. What he thought this might accomplish is unclear, unlike what Effie thought and did which was well documented in the court case afterwards. Thinking her husband killed, she attacked, dragon style.
First she dove into the house's roof at full speed, essentially ending up in the remains of the ground floor living room. She bellowed again as she saw her attacker crawling into the kitchen, where he found a shotgun and began firing at Effie. At that point, for the first time since taking dragon form, Effie breathed fire, all over her attacker and his kitchen.
He was instantly killed, and his house set aflame. Effie finally heard George's shouts from the neighbor's tree. She propelled herself out of the burning wreckage to go rescue him from the within the massive oak tree. By the time she managed to extract him she had seriously messed up the tree, and the firmen and the police had arrived.
"YOU, THE DRAGON!" the police called from their squad car, "RELEASE THE DOG, PUT YOUR CLAWS ON YOUR HEAD AND YOUR BELLY TO THE GROUND!" Several more squad cars arrived, disgorging officers who took out the largest ordnance they had and pointed it all at Effie.
"Hey you idiots, don't point those things at my wife!" shouted George. He hadn't seen the guy with the missile launcher, but figured if Effie trashed a house and put it on fire she must have done it for a good reason. The police were not impressed with George's loyalty one bit. Going for a softer appraoch, George yelled out "I meant life-partner."
"YOU THE DOG, PUT YOUR PAWS ON YOUR HEAD AND YOUR BELLY TO THE GROUND! NOW!" blared the police.
George and Effie had been law abiding citizens their entire lives, and so after looking at each other a moment they nodded (agreeing silently in the way that genuine life-partners have) and complied. They only found out the next day in jail. Their lawyer told them about the missile guy's wife who had also perished when Effie crashed into the house. They also had two children who had left for school just ten minutes earlier and were being looked after by an aunt. Effie cried constantly most of the next three days, devastated that she she killed half of a whole family, and had nightmares about the incident for decades afterwards. That week she only smiled once when she was told that the charges against George had been dropped.
The court case made all sorts of news and took over a year to reach a verdict, but in the end Effie was exonerated. Those "Stand my Ground" laws were still on the books, and as she was fired upon first the judge ruled that she was in her rights to persue her attacker until the danger was illiminated, and him with it. She was even found not guilty of the manslaughter charge for the death of her attacker's wife, as she was deemed still under attack at the time.
The local community did not see things the same way. Effie and George and their kids were no longer welcome and pretty much outcasts from the day of the attack onwards. They moved back downtown, and after the trial she and George moved the family to northern Quebec in Canada where there were entire towns of mostly Diamond Dogs and Dragons running mines and operating founderies. Their son chose to become a Dragon as well, but their daughter rebelled against all things magical and became a key figure in the Techno movement.
But that, as Sir Mick would say, is a song for a later album.
The stars overhead mocked him with their silence, while the cold pavement he sat on slowly sucked the heat from him. He couldn’t exactly remember where this particular alley was, though in the end it probably didn’t matter.
Nothing mattered anymore.
He could remember the opening of the Bureaus, their promises of being able to choose any form at all, and be able to change back at any time. He’d been skeptical of it at first; after all, it had been hard enough to believe that talking ponies, dragons, dogs, griffons and a dozen other species or more could exist at all, let alone let you turn into one of them. But gradually, as the number of Bureaus rose and the number of Converts along with them, he’d finally caved in and bought a bottle.
And it had been glorious. It still bothered him that he could not remember what it was that he’d Converted into. Sometimes, the memory of flight would return, soaring on powerful wings with nothing to hold him down. But as he focused on it, he realized that hadn’t been the first time, nor had the time spent deep underwater, underground, or any of the dozens or even hundreds of Conversions he’d undergone.
The worst had been the looks he’d gotten from his friends and family. He couldn’t blame them though, in hindsight it had been all his fault. Even his girlfriend had left him after the fifteenth Conversion since their relationship had started. Her parting words still stung as he lowered his head to stare at the object he held.
“It’s like I don’t even know you anymore...” he muttered, the words just as painful to hear as they had been when she’d said them. “She was right, though.” He shook his head. “Christ, I don’t even know what I am anymore.” He started shaking as he looked at the bottle of potion. “I don’t even know what I was, at first.” He wondered who he was talking to, but supposed that didn’t matter either.
Maybe... maybe he could just take the bottle, and then be done. Whatever form he wound up in, let that be it, and be happy with what he had. He supposed through all of it, he could at least say he knew who he was, if not what.
“Ah, the hell with it.” He tipped back the bottle and drank, as the first hint of sunlight came over the horizon. The empty bottle slipped from his fingers as his skin turned waxy. “Least it’s... a new... day.”
