This can NOT be legal!
Dear Princess Celestia,
Okay, don’t hang up!
Wait, you won’t know what that means. Don’t close the book and stop reading! I’m sorry!
Yes, I said I’m sorry. I’ve learned the error of my ways, I didn’t appreciate my position and what you were trying to teach me and all that stuff. I will apologize for everything and mean it if you can just not…shut me out.
I’m sorry, really.
I know this doesn’t sound like me at all, but…a lot has happened since I went through the mirror portal.
It turns out, the world on the other side is primarily (I’ll come back to this in a minute) populated by creatures called “humans” that seem to take the place of ponies in the culture and civilization of this world. The mirror even turned me into one. I mean, this was a shock but not a big deal, I took Professor Total Turn’s ‘Transmogrification 101’ like most ponies in the post-grad program, but at least it didn’t do anything else like de-age me. Can you imagine me having to go through puberty or the lower forms of school again? I’d probably be a holy terror!
Anyway, these humans are bipedal, like some dragons, mostly hairless (which they make up for by using clothes to an extent that would make the entire Fashion Row of Canterlot faint from potential profits), and have no real access to magic, or at least none I’ve been able to find a reference to in their literature.
Yes, you probably connected the dots right, Princess Celestia’s premier magic student is stuck in a body that has no way to use magic.
So anyway, remember the “primarily” that I used earlier? These humans found out a few years ago that they’ve been sharing the world with other intelligent creatures that they call ‘monsters.’ It seemed insensitive to me, but apparently the various monster races actually use that term for themselves, so either it’s a case of cultural appropriation or the monsters reclaiming a slur. It’s not quite to ‘s-word’ levels, but depending on the person saying it, it’s either purely descriptive or an actual derogatory label.
I caught all this on the news broadcast…damnit, going to need to explain that. Humans have developed a means of transmitting video signals, think the talkies that are coming out of Applewood in the last decade or so but manufactured at scale and every person has at least one screen that can be small enough to fit in their pocket or big enough to require enough space for a hoofball pitch. Some of the broadcasts are for news and updates in various capacities and levels of accuracy, all of which are produced at such a rapid pace that no one individual could possibly consume all the media produced. Curating these news broadcasts are news ‘networks,’ which select the news that would be of interest to their particular target demographic, and there’s dozens of news outlets in every language.
I know, kinda made me dizzy when I realized how big it is.
So a news broadcast went out a couple weeks ago and apparently there’s a bunch of monsters that are going to be moving in with host families to better integrate monster and human culture. Seemed kinda silly to me at first, then I did a bit of research on human history…
…murderous, genocidal monkeys. I’m living in a culture of an extremely war-hungry persistence predator species. The monsters are right to be very, very careful when dealing with the humans.
And yes, I’m masquerading as one of them. Please don’t laugh, I have enough trouble looking in the mirror.
I didn’t think much more of it at the time, other than to make a few mental notes for research. See, I’m not here strictly legally. Makes sense, right? I’m not even from this universe, let alone this country, I have zero paperwork, no legal ID, and every aspect of my presence here is completely undocumented. Finding work has been a pain, but then I guess I don’t really have to worry about that anymore…
I’m getting ahead of myself. So since I don’t have any sort of support network or connections or money, I’ve had to resort to…less than legal means of living. I’m not proud of it, but it was either that or starve to death on the street. And let me tell you, humans are not equipped to live wild. This body can’t even digest hay! I miss hay fries!
I found a motel that had shut down. Apparently, a pair of travelling shysters bought it for bits on the barrelhead and knew nothing about running a motel and got the place shut down for code violations or something. Because of how they bought it, apparently the ownership is in limbo so hadn’t really been touched in a couple of years, and the last people who entered the site never really locked up, and the neighborhood is fairly safe and so it hadn’t been picked clean, so I was able to move myself in without anyone looking twice.
It took a bit of clever use of social engineering to get utilities connected up again, but once that was done, I had an entire multi-room facility to myself. I just had to lay low, not draw attention to myself, make sure I didn’t die or anything, and I’d be able to return to Equestria in another couple years and be done with this place. I was all set.
Or so I thought, right up until I got a knock on my door.
The knot in Sunset’s gut threatened to condense into a black hole of nervousness and fear. She was desperately trying to keep her face as neutral as possible so as to not betray her inner turmoil. The woman who’d pushed her way into the ‘master’ suite in the motel Sunset had co-opted a couple months prior turned out to be a Federal agent, the kind that carried a gun and was followed by what seemed to be an entire construction crew who had begun work on the agent’s say-so before the door had even finished closing. Now Sunset was fighting back shivers of dread as she held the woman’s business card in her hands, emblazoned with a fancy looking agency seal and the letters, “I.C.E.” in formal monogram over the top of the logo. “I don’t understand, agent…uh…?” she squinted down at the card. Human names made no sense to Sunset. Names were supposed to be descriptive, darn it! They meant something, they weren’t just sounds smashed together to make a string of coherent sounding syllables, or at least, they shouldn’t be! “…Smith?”
The dark-skinned woman grinned smugly while watching Sunset’s reaction over the top edge of her sunglasses. When she said nothing, Sunset continued, “I…didn’t apply to be in the exchange program. How did you even get my address? I just…moved in a couple months ago.”
The grin turned slightly predatory, causing the ancient, primitive lizard brain in Sunset to scream about finding a nice rock to hide under. “Oh, that’s mostly paperwork. After all, the bureau does very thorough and extensive background checks on everyone we house our monster constituents with.” Agent Smith pulled the first of what looked like an appreciable pile of folders from the stack she’d dropped on what had once been the intake desk of the motel and held it out for Sunset to take.
Feeling like she was putting her hand in a bear trap, Sunset took the folder and flipped it open. Clipped to the cover flap was a brand new, fully legal I.D. with Sunset’s name on it, partially covering a birth certificate (also with Sunset’s name on it). A piece of parchment just a bit larger than the standard-sized certificate peeked out from under. She did her best to hide her absolute quaking terror as she lifted the certificate to find a diploma to some university she didn’t know the name or reputation of, and the motion shifted the diploma to reveal a small stack of papers that further investigation revealed a course transcript for an accelerated three year degree that she had supposedly achieved last year. Frustratingly, she recognized nearly all the subjects on the transcript and realized the listed GPA would be pretty close to accurate. A cursory examination of the rest of the file revealed documentation similar to what she remembered seeing when Princess Celestia had given her leave to satisfy her curiosity of what the files on her desk contained during officer promotion review. Some of this…these are interview transcripts! When did…?
As if in answer to her unspoken question, the front office door was opened by a gray-skinned girl wearing…a whole lot of nothing. Sunset was unaffected, of course, nudity was an everyday fact for most ponies, but she did wonder how this woman wasn’t being arrested for public indecency (as she almost had during her first week in this world), until she realized that the twisting, curling hair that held the girl off the ground like some sort of nest of tentacles meant she wasn’t a standard issue homo sapiens but xeno sapiens, a.k.a. a monster.
She also recognized the woman’s face!
Her mind cast back to a café she’d grabbed a coffee at a week or so ago. She’d been approached by a woman wearing what looked like business clothes to Sunset’s untrained eye and asked if the seat at the table Sunset was at was free. When Sunset gave her an affirmative, the woman sat down and started a conversation with Sunset. As she hadn’t actually had many people to talk to since her self-imposed exile began, she found she was craving the social contact and held the conversation for longer than she normally would have, asking and answering questions across the spectrum of topics, from local politics to breakfast foods to personal ethics. At the time, she just felt like it was a refreshing interaction, a way to finally engage her mind in something other than ‘survival’ and ‘research.’ In retrospect, though…
“…you were interviewing me?!”
The gray woman’s mouth quirked into a smile, “Of course, it is my job, and I’m the only one on the team with a hope of blending in sufficiently to interview you covertly. You were a stimulating conversational partner; I find myself hoping for an excuse to have more opportunities to chat with you. I don’t recall ever having a host candidate be quite your level of intelligence, cunning, and curiosity.”
Almost numb by this point, all Sunset could muster to say was, “…didn’t you have glasses?”
The girl raised an eyebrow, “I’m a doppelganger, I can change my body however I need to take whatever appearance I need.”
“Oh…” Sunset was moving rapidly from ‘numb’ and straight to ‘shell shocked.’ Looking down at the packet to straighten the pages so she could close the folder, she muttered, “I thought you looked cute with glasses…”
For just a fleeting second, Sunset thought she caught a blush forming on the other girl’s face before Agent Smith let out an amused snort, “If you’re through flirting with Agent Coat,” turning to the doppelganger, the senior agent prompted, “I take it she’s here?”
Agent Coat, showing so little sign she’d reacted to Sunset’s commentary on vision accommodation and it’s affect on her appearance to the point the ex-pony decided she’d imagined it, nodded and moved aside, at which point another woman…slithered in. From the waist up, she could have been just another (if highly fashionable) lady on the street. Wearing what for all the world could have been a schoolgirl uniform from one of those ‘anime’ shows she’d stumbled onto while exploring the Internet, the young woman had vibrant purple hair that fell in waves around her face, which was alabaster white and sporting nearly perfect make-up with a royal purple theme to match her hair. Her mouth was pursed slightly, not in disapproval but more trying to take everything in and struggling to make sense of it all. Her wide, expressive eyes flitted about as she came in, ignoring the people for the moment and moving around the perimeter of the room. Sunset would wager this was likely habit, as it was the only way for the rest of her to make it in through the door as well. From the waist down was the longest, biggest snake tail and body she’d ever seen. The scales on the ‘belly’ portion were the same white as the woman’s more mammalian skin, and the scales on the back were a coruscating purple in various shades that all blended to the create a shimmering, almost silky appearance in the same color as her hair. An atavistic shiver threatened to draw an apparent predator’s attention to her, and apparently the slight touch of fear was escaping through her human scent glands, enough to be picked up by an ambush predator, as the girl made a small sniff, causing her nose to twitch in a somewhat adorable way, and she turned her attention to the former pony. “Oh, my!” she exclaimed, “Aren’t you the handsome specimen? I dare say your skin tone and hair make you a gorgeous summer,” with a speed the woman’s size would have belied if Sunset hadn’t known as much about snakes as she did, the alabaster monster surged up to Sunset and gently touched her fingers to Sunset’s chin, tilting her head slightly. “I don’t even think you’re wearing make-up, and yet you just have a lovely, healthy glow to your skin! I must know your skin care routine, darling!”
Agent Smith chuckled and gently maneuvered the serpent woman back a bit, much to Sunset’s relief. “Obviously, there’s some good chemistry here, which means we made a good choice for a host for her. Sunset, this is Rarity. She’s a…”
“Lamia,” Sunset interrupted. She had recognized the overall type of species from a diplomatic visit she’d attended a few years back. The food was excellent and the outfits colorful, and while the accent and torso were different, the species type was easy to infer from the pony-torso’d version on the Equestrian side of the portal.
While Agent Smith looked pleased, Rarity absolutely glowed, “Oh, you must have studied the monster races after applying to be a host! I must say, Agent Smith seems to have done a fine job selecting you for me!” Using the same speed she’d demonstrated earlier; Rarity coiled swiftly around Sunset’s legs and wrapped her arms around Sunset’s shoulders. As hugs went, it was extreme. Fortunately, before her legs went numb Rarity released her and glided over to the wall where the motel used to hang their keys. The hooks and room numbers were still there, even if the keys had mostly been removed. “Such a charming home, very ‘hotel chique,’ as it were. Will I be getting a room key? Will there be…” Rarity’s eyes shifted from ‘wide-eyed and curious’ to ‘sultry and seductive’ so quickly Sunset would have thought it was a jump cut in an Internet video if she weren’t there in person, “…room service?” These last two words came out in a heated tone more suggestive of warm honey than anything else.
Agent Smith chuckled, “Rarity, the contractors should be finished adding the accommodations for your room. Why don’t you and Agent Coat move your luggage in so you can make yourself at home?”
“Oh, of course! And Sunset, lovely to meet you, I look forward to getting to know you better,” the lamia needlessly circled Sunset, wrapping her in an intimate coil again, “…brunching together,” a porcelain hand caressed Sunset’s jaw as Rarity moved toward the door, “…living together,” the coil of tail glided around her legs and inched up until it was brushing around her hips, sending a rustling shiver across her filly-, er, lady-bits, “…sleeping together.” Rarity turned her torso and blew a kiss at Sunset as she slid out the door and her upper body disappeared from view. The purple tail caressed around Sunset’s hips until just the tip, which was now twitching like a rattler’s for all the lack of actual rattles, skittered over Sunset’s jeans, tickling her through the fabric as it flickered across her pelvis and across her flank before slinking out the door.
During Sunset’s exploration of the Internet after she got her first cell phone, she’d stumbled across some human porn and had wondered what these monkeys saw in it. All lanky limbs and lack of fur, not even the secondary erogenous zones roughly two-thirds of the pony population had with horns and wings. To say that the lamia had just given Sunset a demonstration in how a human body could enjoy sex would be an understatement if the sudden dampness in her panties was any indication. She was also sure she was broadcasting that via the flush she could feel in her face if Agent Smith’s rather lascivious grin was any indication.
Said agent didn’t comment further on that, however, merely picking up the next folder in the stack and passing it over to Sunset, who took it mutely as Smith spoke, “Obviously, as both you and Rarity are female,” and Sunset had the sudden conflicting desires to both rather desperately know as to how Agent Smith could know that for sure and simultaneously not wanting to know how a human had figured out what was in her pants, “The part of the standard hosting contract regarding sexual activity doesn’t really apply. That’s there to keep anyone from getting pregnant, something the treaties don’t actually cover. That said, laws covering consent are still fully in force, and Rarity had better not have a reason to call me to report that her boundaries had been violated.”
Sunset put down the packet with the disconcerting amount of personal information, both falsified and genuine, to flip open the new folder and start skimming the contents, “I don’t think it’s her boundaries that are going to be violated…” she muttered as she flipped through the pages quickly. Sure enough, as though she’d used her horn to scrawl it instead of the hands she’d been forcing herself to learn to write with, her signature was at the bottom of the last page, as well as her initials on all the other pages.
If the I.C.E. agent had heard what Sunset uttered, she gave no sign as she picked up the next folder and continued, “Obviously, lamia (as well as the other monster races) all have their own living requirements that don’t conform to how human society has built itself up over the millennia, so we’ve taken steps to ensure that Rarity will feel comfortable and safe in your home. It’s a good thing,” the predatory grin returned as she handed this folder to Sunset as well, “you decided to buy an old motel and renovate it as a personal dwelling. This will give you plenty of living space to renovate for monster needs.”
Sunset set down the folder with the hosting contract and the feeling of dread that had been simmering just below the surface of the minor sexual awakening Rarity had caused boiled back up and threatened to destabilize her. She opened the folder to find a deed in her name to the property the motel was built on. Compelled by the need to know even as bowel quaking fear screamed at her to drop it and run away, Sunset paged through the folder contents, finding a copy of a rezoning certificate changing the property from commercial to residential, a stack of permits for remodeling, and some scaled-down renderings of building plans and layouts. There was even a certificate of compliance noting that the code violation that had shut the business down had been handled.
Slowly, as if the doing of it meant that she could stave off the realization that she’d been completely outclassed, out-maneuvered, and out-played before she was even aware the game was a-hoof, Sunset lowered the folder and raised her eyes to look Agent Smith in the eyes. Agent Smith, for her part, was leaning her rump against the former motel’s front desk, hands casually rested on either side of her hips, legs crossed at the ankles. Only the incredibly dragon-like grin and expression that could almost be described as ‘viciously domineering’ gave any indication that the woman wasn’t just lounging.
Before either of them could say anything, the door to the office opened and an absolute brick house of a woman angled her way through the door’s archway. She was wearing a skirt-suit, though Sunset could only imagine how many bolts of fabric had to be sacrificed to cover this gargantuan woman. Standing tall enough that the woman’s stubby, rhino-like horn jutting from her forehead was just barely scraping paint off the nearly four-meter-high ceiling, the Absolute Unit of a woman fidgeted herself into something resembling a professional stance, though an instinctive hunch could be noted for those who were schooled to look for that sort of thing, indicating that the woman tended to slouch to minimize her profile. She held out a device that Sunset at first though was her phone but then realized it was a scale issue; she was seeing a full-sized tablet computer, the woman holding it was just so large it looked puny in comparison.
“We got all the footage from all archives and backups and debriefed everyone who’s seen it and put them under NDAs. The only copy left is on this tablet.” The huge woman’s voice was remarkably soft. Sunset blinked in astonishment, having unconsciously expected a deep, booming voice. She chided herself mentally for allowing her prejudices and presuppositions to cloud her expectations.
Agent Smith took the tablet and tapped the screen, predatory smile never leaving her face. “Excellent,” she said without looking up from the screen, “Make sure the usual high-security backups are in place for only the agency, destroy every other copy. If anyone complains tell them it’s under I.C.E.’s mandate.”
Saying nothing further, Agent Smith turned the tablet around so Sunset could see what was on the screen.
It was a video, somewhat grainy, with a time-stamp of 2:30 AM in the corner. The video appeared to be a standard security feed of what looked for all the world like a park or town square, surrounded by buildings housing businesses of various types, though a few vacant storefronts showed the square had seen better days. Right in the middle of the square in a park-like rectangle of land stood a statue. Generally non-descript, and nobody but a few local history geeks would even know what it was there for, it featured a single horse, no rider or tack, rearing back as if to challenge the small throughfare. As the clock ticked up to 2:31 AM, a form tumbled out of the seemingly solid block of stone the statue was positioned on. The visual flickered and apparently switched to another camera, this one closer to the statue and showing the same moment in time. This time it was clear the form was Sunset, and the confused stumbling about of a being who had been used to working with four legs and no arms was amusing and mortifying in equal measure for Sunset. At the time, she’d been proud of how quickly she figured out the bipedal stance and movements with precisely zero examples based on the length and form of the limbs she found herself with. Now she wished she’d turned back around and crawled right back through the statue so she would be facing the known quantity of Princess Celestia rather than this government agent who had her over the proverbial barrel. Going back through now was a moot point, as the past version of herself was busy proving on the small screen. She had intentionally waited to go through until the last possible moment to ensure she wouldn’t be followed by any guards or even the princess, and the former pony on the screen approached the statue base to test its permeability and, upon confirmation that the portal was closed for another 30 moons, smiled in smug victory and walked slightly wobbly away and into the night.
“Just a reminder,” said Agent Smith, the roar in Sunset’s ears making it sound for all the world like the agent were speaking to her from underground, “If you should see any non-human wandering around without their host family or the appropriate I.D., they are likely not here legally and subject to I.C.E.’s jurisdiction. They’d have to be arrested and detained by us until such time as their home nation could be contacted to arrange deportation.”
The edges of Sunset’s vision started going dark as she processed just how screwed she was. “…right…” was all she could muster as a reply.
Agent Smith’s razor smile softened a bit even as the crafty glint remained in her eyes, “But, of course, I and my team do our best to ensure any misunderstandings are handled before they get to the point of arrest, even if we have to…what did Sugarcoat say the word for it was?” this last was directed at the massive woman who’d brought in the tablet.
“Lateral,” replied the woman with the rhino-like horn.
“Ah, yes. Even if we have to employ ‘lateral problem solving’ methods to ensure we are able to properly serve our monster constituents. At the end of the day, we are public servants, after all.”
The large woman smiled down at Sunset, then tilted her head a bit further to see the last remaining folder on the desk next to Agent Smith. She daintily picked up the folder with her thumb and forefinger and eased it into the senior agent’s view.
“Oh, thank you, Agent Zest,” Smith took the folder and held it out to Sunset, who blinked at it, blankly, until the agent shook it gently, prompting Sunset to reach out and grab it. More on automatic than giving it actual thought, she opened it up and saw…a ledger.
The oddity of a series of transactions being handed to her when she’d just had it made clear she was under arrest in all but name helped pull her back from the dead faint she’d felt coming on. Her wordless question was etched across her face as she looked from the folder to Agent Smith and back.
“Part of our mandate,” began Smith, “For ensuring our charges are properly cared for; we also ensure the financial stability and wellbeing of the host families. Your quarterly review at the coffee shop is, frankly, glowing, but certainly won’t pay the bills when you have a special needs case like a lamia living with you, let alone the grocery bill. To ensure you won’t need to worry about some of the more…territorial tendencies of some of the monster races, like lamia, we’ll be providing you with a stipend to cover your expenses as well as an additional line of funding to make sure Rarity’s needs are met while under your roof.”
In the midst of the tiny craft she’d assembled from the wreckage of her life as a pony being pounded by the volley of tsunamis that Agent Smith was sending at her, this felt like a lifeline. It was a manipulation tactic, no doubt; introduce the reality of a life in tatters, then offer a hand up. Sunset saw it for what it was, a leash. She was now tethered to Agent Smith more firmly than if she’d been yoked up for Tirek’s sled. This was the bit of feed she was being given to ensure she’d draw the carriage like a good pack animal. Sunset felt sick to her stomach and like the previously experienced black hole had devoured the stomach that she was feeling sick to. She wanted to scream in terror and she wanted to use her magic to turn this woman inside out. Doing the latter was now impossible and doing the former would gain her nothing. “Well,” she said, her voice sounding like she was trying to squeeze air through rocks, “That’s…nice of you.”
Anything Agent Smith might have said in reply was interrupted by the door to the courtyard opening yet again, this time by a girl wearing what appeared to be body armor mixed with club-wear and her face appeared to have been at one point cut in half and then stitched back together. It was at that moment that Sunset realized that even if she couldn’t use magic (that she’d been able to figure out, anyway) she could still sense it, as this new girl was producing and shedding magic so profusely that, had it been the nuclear radiation she’d read these humans used for some of their power plants, everyone in the room would have been dead in minutes. As it was, Sunset couldn’t imagine a single use-case for that much magic in a single person besides an alicorn, and even then it wouldn’t be just sluicing from them like it was from this girl. Ignoring Sunset, the moving magical disaster site turned to the other agents in the room, “The construction crew is all finished boss, everything is fixed up for the lamia and all the required repairs to bring the building up to code have been completed. The cleaning crew should be done in a few minutes and the floor will be so clean you can eat off it.” Under her breath, she continued sotto voce, “If you’re the kind of idiot that eats off a floor, anyway.”
Agent Smith stood and straightened her skirt with a quick brush of her hands, “Wonderful! With that, I think we’ll leave you to craft your notice to the coffee shop that you’re quitting. I’m sure they’ll be heartbroken, but being a host is likely going to occupy more of your time than the job would allow, small paycheck size notwithstanding. Give the office a call if you have any questions regarding your part of the host contract and put my number in your favorites in case of any emergencies specific to Rarity. It was nice to meet you, Sunset.”
Clutching the folder showing her sudden steady source of income like a life preserver, Sunset watched the three agents, first the wall of muscle with the last name of ‘Zest,’ then the mobile magic reactor, and finally Smith. As she pulled the door closed, she paused and looked at Sunset over the rim of those sunglasses and the former pony would swear the agent winked at her, though what the motivation for the action might be Sunset was too poleaxed to guess.
The I.C.E. agent pulled the door the final few hooflengths closed with a subdued ‘snikt,’ and it wasn’t until she was sure the agents were gone that Sunset allowed herself to sink to her knees in shock.
…and that’s where Rarity found me when it was dinner time. It was…too much, so I just ordered some Chinese (that’s a type of cuisine that’s named after the country of origin, which was itself named after one of the families that ruled it in ancient times on this world) for dinner and we both headed to bed. I know Rarity was flirting with me, but I was just…I don’t have the capacity to unpack all that.
I came into my bedroom (and I guess it really is mine now…via some identity fraud perpetrated by the government, anyway) and spotted the journal, and realized I just needed to tell somepony all this.
I know you’re probably still mad at me, we weren’t exactly on good terms even before you caught me in the Restricted Section, but…honestly, you’re the only one I can talk to about this. I can’t talk to anyone here (most people wouldn’t believe me and it might get me arrested until the portal opened and they could shuttle me back to you anyway), and you’re the only pony who I have even this connection with.
Of course, it’s entirely possible that the journal won’t even work, at least not until the portal opens again. If that’s the case and you don’t hear from me besides these journal entries, whoever you send over should contact Senior Agent Luna Smith of the Interspecies Cultural Exchange. I’ll put her business card in the journal as a bookmark to this entry in case I do wind up in a detention facility.
I really hope you get this before then, though, I think I’ll go crazy if I have to deal with this on my own.
Your Beloved Student,
Sunset Shimmer
Dearest Sunset,
I’m extremely glad to see your message and I am glad that…
…wait, what did you say the lead agent’s name was?!