TCB: Sanity Pending

by JackShine

Rating: teen
Tags: Adventure, Slice of Life, Human
Length: 1816

The Conversion Bureau: Follow the tale of Mark Stanson as... stuff happens.

My first attempt at a story built within another standing world, this standing world being The Conversion Bureau.

Mark Stanson is a fairly average 19 year old male living on his own, if sitting around in front of a computer for the majority of the day can be called living… When the Bureaus opened, and people started converting, he decided to toss away his shell of a life in the hopes of making something of himself in a new society.

Oh, and yes, there will be ponies(duh), however I wrote this at midnight, and am eager to go to bed, so enjoy a chapter of human relations instead!

Written within the TCB world, but with a few differences:
* The world isn't quite as "Fallout-ish" as quite a few other stories are.
* Rather than humankind collapsing in on itself in rage due to a lack of jobs, it rendered itself obsolete and is proceeding to slowly decay away. (Think more along the lines of WALL-E rather than Dystopia.)
*Myspace has once again resurfaced as the primary life-consuming force of the internet
*While equestria IS slowly consuming the earth, it started fairly far out in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean, and is encroaching at a rate that will take several lifetimes to fully absorb the Earth.
*While the HLF and PER do exist, they are not nearly as radical as in other stories, this is due to the fact that there is no rush to be ponified, and the majority of mankind is either oblivious to the Earth's "plight" or simply cannot be bothered to care because their best friend just farted, and it smelled like death according to their myspace post, and thus must spend time commenting about that post rather than pay attention to "real life".

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2012-07-16 06:23:10 UTC

Chapter One: The Beginning Of The End

Chapter 1

The Beginning Of The End

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We’ll cut our bodies free, from the tethers of this scene.

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He slung his bag across his shoulders, and took one last cursory glance around the room.  Here was everything that he had ever done that was “real” according to the population at large.  Not much to look at, the room was devoid of any major decoration, and was furnished simply with a desk, a bed, and an ergonomic chair.  Around the room, no pictures of family or friends were to be found as, with the revival of myspace, the human race in general had become fairly anti-social outside the boundaries of the internet chatrooms, and parents had learned to become distant and cold once the children had left the nest.  With society becoming more and more shut-in, dependencies upon the internet as a means to fulfill social needs had caused the world to become extremely immaterial.

  Mark chuckled as he recalled that the last time he had physically been to a bank, or even an ATM had been over eight years ago.

“It certainly seems like this world is dead and empty, even though all physical evidence  points to the contrary.” He mused to himself.

As he exited the room and began his long walk out of the apartment facility, the echoing of his hard-soled shoes hitting the floor seemed fill the empty sound of a sleeping city with a ominously uniform beat.

Tap.. Tap.. Tap.. Tap.. .. .. ..

Mark’s footsteps halted, as he considered for one last time if he could actually manage to go through with this.  The prospect of cutting all ties to his current life, his “friends” online, his co-workers, and most likely burning all bridges back to his family in one fell swoop hung heavy on the back of his mind and caused his heart to beat hard and cold.

        Reflecting upon his life, he froze, still as a statue, oblivious to the gentle breeze induced by the air conditioning units set up on the facility, and uncaring of the dead silence that threatened to engulf him and bring him to his knees in a fit of hysterics. In stark contrast, his mind composed scores of music, told itself tales of great adventure, drafted up figures, explored the inner workings of the human psyche,  and cried out with the pain of being unable to express itself in the present world, all to the same harmonic firing of neurons, creating a symphony of brain activity that would have lit up any spectrometer with a glorious arrangement of colors.

        Yes, this world was cold, unchanging, and unable to provide him with a niche to be happy in, and so it was time for him to move on.

.. ..Tap.. Tap.. Tap.. Tap..

The uniform sound of his hard-soled shoes hitting the floor carried him swiftly out of the area, and gave him a drum-line for a wordless tune that he hummed as it evolved in the depths of his mind.  Pity that he had no way of recording it.

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        It was a cool morning in Boston, the sunlight breaking free of the horizon always seemed to be denied by the cool breeze coming in from the harbor whenever the day tried to fight back the bitter chill of night.  The sky was completely devoid of clouds, creating a simple blanket of blue above Mark’s head.  Despite the sky being unblemished by any impending storms, Mark’s heart still felt heavy, and his originally briskness had settled into a uninspired meandering, barely worth calling a walking pace, as he continued along the city streets towards his destination.

        As if to take advantage of his wavering spirit, his mind began racing to imagine all the terrible outcomes that were possible of his currently planned course of action.

What if no one likes me?  What if I’m still weird?  What if it doesn’t work?  What if It doeswork, but I’m not meanymore?  What if there isn’t any left?  What if the HLF jumps me?  What if I can’t play any instruments ever again?  What if I can’t sing?  What if I’m forced to do menial labor for the rest of my life?  What if they just flat out say no?  What if... what if... what if...

His mind continued to create nightmarish results to his prospective trip to the bureau.  Grasping the sides of his head firmly, Mark fell to his knees, face contorted in pain as his mind began to create terrors and fears faster than he could actively perceive them, causing his head to feel as though it were bursting, and his sight to fade slowly to black.

Seconds ticked by, and Mark rose to his feet as though the fit of hysteria had never happened.  The melody he had been making was gone, his head felt as silent and cold as the barren city streets surrounding him, and his footsteps once again were the only source of noise.

Tap.. Tap.. Tap.. Tap..

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        Mark reached into his pocket and fished out a simple analog pocket-watch.  With nearly an hour before the Boston bureau’s business hours beginning, he decided to wait out the early morning in the shopping complex that dominated the other side of the street.

        While the outer doors automatically opened as if to welcome him to a fabulous day of shopping, beyond the entryway, the mall was mostly unlit, with “For Rent” signs populating the walls, begging for any businesses to set up shop, no credit required.  The gentle sound of water falling onto itself echoed around the now-dead shopping center, as the centerpiece of the mall, a nearly twenty foot tall fountain, continued to spew forth water, oblivious to the fact that there were no more shoppers to take solace in its architectural beauty.

        Approaching the fountain, Mark spied a comfortable bench, unceremoniously tossed his bag onto one end, lay himself down with his head resting on his bag, and tried to once again recall the melody he had been humming earlier while he waited for the immediate area to wake up, and allow for him to start his first steps towards his new life before he could scare himself out of what was almost definitely the most terrifying, illogical, unpredictable, and best decision of his existence.

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        Once again outside the doors of the bureau, Mark found himself alone.  His palms slightly sweaty, his heartbeat rapid, and his hands shaky, he reached out to push open the swinging door that would be the beginning of his future, the end of his past, and the lever used to shift his present.  Mark pushed the door open gently, and only enough to fit his head through as he peered into the building.  Before him was a simple waiting room, not unlike one in a doctor’s office, furnished with uniform chairs, a few short tables covered with dated magazines, and an empty secretary’s desk, placed evenly between two doors, one with a handle labeled both “Pull”, and “Employees Only”, and another designed to be pushed open from either direction.

        Gathering his courage, Mark crept into the room, turning his back to the desk in order to make sure that the door closed silently behind him.  As the edges of the door slid into place silently, Mark breathed a soft sigh of relief.

“GOOD MORNING SUNSHINE!”, someone bellowed the afore-unseen secretary from behind the desk.

        Mark calmly turned to face the voice he had heard, telling himself not to be surprised when he saw a pony manning the desk, and to mind his manners and not stare at any horns if he saw a unicorn.  Much to his surprise, a small pale man wearing a tuxedo T-shirt and a black fedora was manning the desk, not a pony.

        Mark began the conversation,“Umm... is this the-”, “YES! THIS IS THE PLACE WHERE MIRACLES HAPPEN AND HUMANS CAN WILLINGLY BECOME PONIES!”, the man interrupted with another firm bellow.

“Do you always yell at everyone who comes in here?” Mark asked while recovering from the improbably loud shouting coming from this improbable little man before him.

“Oh, yes well, sorry about that, I tend to forget that Boston isn’t the thriving city of thespians that it once was.” The stranger replied, “The name is Duke Richard!”

“Duke is my name, not my title, and please, don’t call me Duke Dick, as I don’t rule over anyone’s junk other than my own.” He added with a smirk.

“Anyhoo~ I expect that you are here no doubt because you, like so many before you, and like so many that will likely follow, wish to become ponified.  Am I wrong?” Duke asked.

Mark quickly shook his head in response.

“AAALL~righty then”,Duke said in sing-song,”Let’s go ahead and get all the paperwork out of the way.  Here’s a form for your consent.  And here’s a form for your will and testament in case things go wrong... Don’t worry about that one though, haven’t had to use one yet, ha-ha!  Here’s the form stating that you agree to stay for the fourteen day program within the confines of the facility... Pay attention now, because if you violate this one, you don’t get any second chances, as the government doesn’t look too kindly upon people trying to take advantage of another species’ kindness, while simultaneously wasting government dollars, not that they will be worth much here soon!” Duke roared with laughter at his last statement.

Mark effeciently and silently signed each document as it was passed to him, taking care to fully read each of the simple contracts.  With a complete lack of loopholes, pitfalls, and complex vernacular, the contracts were probably the simplest legal document he had ever read.

        “Well, that does it for paperwork, now go down this hallway, take a right and find yourself an empty room.  According to the paperwork, the nearest open room should be room 6-C, however, folks like to move themselves around for little to no reason at all, so don’t be too surprised if you find the place inhabited.  And if you do, just go ahead and take whatever room you please instead.  The first set of classes for the program don’t start until tommorrow, so go ahead and take the rest of the day to settle in, and familiarize yourself with the facilities and locals.” Duke stated while pointing towards the push-open door to his left.  “Oh, and one last thing, WELCOME TO THE FUTURE OH BOLD STRANGER!”

        Mark nodded, shook his head to stop the ringing in his ears, pushed open the door, and started walking down the hallway to find room 6-C.  The soft, timid sound of his footsteps in the empty hallway matched the timid beating of his heart as he stepped forward into the unknown.

Tap.. Tap.. Tap.. Tap..