He hadn't intended on continuing to write anymore letters than were needed, really all he wanted to do was read his books.

In the end, he supposed that's what drew them both to keep writing back and forth. Eventually it became a habit, and it became about more than just books, before either of them knew it, they were friends, however far apart they may be.

If he had known the radical changes those letters would eventually bring to his life, he couldn't say he would have done anything different. He was always desperate to see what else was out there, to see the stories in person.

He just hadn't expected it all to stem from the small pony he had befriended through a school assignment.

Swiftly Treasured would have loved nothing more for this new life of his to be one of peace, quiet, and counting. However well meaning friends, parents constantly away on suspicious "business" trips, and the sudden appearance of foreign interests seem to disagree.

We were sent packing, no better way to say it, we ran with our tail between our legs, and now with some of us sent into space and the rest dead from suicide, it's up to me to be the one guy who delivers the last shot, this is our goodbye, our parting shot.

(A conversion bureau story)

What happens when a Survivor of Rapture escapes the city due to a experimental teleport plasmid with most of his insanity intact, Boris does not know, but what he does know is that he is going to open his B&B just like his grandmother said he should and by god he is not going to let any of this new world bull stop him.

Now if only those pony nobility would stop harassing his customers, as long as they're paying he will defend them, he doesn't care if it's runaway princesses, or fugitives of the state, ore even insane chaos sprits, their paying customers, so anyone else can f***off. And no, just because some are staying for free does not mean he finds any of them adorable or is a sucker for sob stories, so just SHUT UP.

(Syndrose gave me some inspiration for the main character)