Long sat before a long table. Across it sat a mare with a police cap on and a nightstick attached to her side. The policemare nodded softly. "So, you want your stuff, eh?"

"That would be nice, um, sir?" Long wasn't entirely sure how to address her.

"Gonna pay your fee and stroll out of here, hmm?"

"Yes, sir?" Long wished she would prompt one way or the other if she was doing it right. "Is there--"

"You looked mighty guilty." She leaned forward. "When ponies asked about what you were doing in the middle of a bank, say, robbing the place."

Long flinched back. "Wouldn't anyone?! I mean, I must have looked... stupid."

"Won't argue that." She set down a piece of paper suddenly with a thonk of her hoof against the table. "Do you know what this is?"

Long leaned forward to look at it. It was covered in Equestrian writing. Some distant part of herself said it looked odd, but she knew what it meant. It appeared to be a testimony, but it was pulled away before she got very far in reading it.

"The person who first ran into you wrote the first part. Imagine their surprise, just coming out of an office, and there's a pony strolling down the hallway as if they had somewhere to be, but they weren't any employee they knew. When they called out to her, she vanished."

"That isn't true," argued Long with a frown. "He said hello, or asked who I was, I forget, but it was innocent enough, but some other pony I couldn't see told him to grab me! What's a mare supposed to do when they hear someone planning to grab her? Of course I teleported!"

"When they found you," she pushed on as if no argument was offered. "--you were a fine decorative teapot. They almost didn't recognize you were a pony." She pressed her forehooves together. "What did you try to do that ended up with that result? Come clean and it'll go easy."

Long wobbled a hoof towards the door she had come through. "I was taught a spell to use if ever I thought I was being foalnapped, and I thought I was! Some strange stallion had just ordered someone to grab me, what else would I be thinking? I zapped the door and, poof!" She released a sparkle of magic from her stifled horn. "Teapot... Then I was here... May I have my things?"

It was a lie, naked and bald, but told with the energy of any other story she had told. What was a story if not a lie that sounded nice to hear? The policemare nodded softly. "The other half is a concerned letter." She tapped at it lightly. "From someone who ain't even involved any. Seems you've made friends with a local performer. DJ-Pon3. That leaves me with one final question."

Long tensed faintly, fearing what it could be. "Yes?"

"Can you get me a signature?" The policemare grinned. "My foal would be beside her little self if I got her DJ-Pon3's hoofprint."

Long emerged a moment later, with her things tucked away in her pocket, minus the bits needed to pay her trespassing fine. She fought the law, and was victorious. She couldn't help the smile that was stuck on her face as she cantered, a walking style she hadn't even really practiced much, towards the exit at the end of the hallway. She was getting out!

The air of Manehattan never smelt so... alright, it still smelled like a city, but it wasn't the inside of a prison. Long hurried down the steps from the jail, a giggle emerging from deep within her. She had somehow escaped years of imprisonment. She was free. Free!

... Or was she? She came to a halt suddenly. No, she still had some business to deal with. She had to tell Don of her decision, either in person, or a letter, or a phone call, or something... She didn't look forward to facing him in person and shook her head at the thought. Part of her was terrified that if she did ask in person, he'd just talk over her and get her back to work as if she hadn't said anything, and she'd go along with it.

Another considerable slice worried he'd exact more direct means of revenge for her failure and lack of loyalty. It wasn't like he didn't have ponies who would do what he said. No! "Write a letter," she muttered to herself, looking around. "Now where do they keep post offices around here?"

As she walked along the sidewalk, matching the pace of the existing traffic, it hit her. She had no home. She couldn't go back to her soft apartment. She had bits, at least. Not a ton, but not a paltry amount either. She would... have to use it judiciously to start a new life.

There it was. She veered out of traffic, approaching the building that had a big picture of a letter on it. At least pony signs tended to be obvious. Inside she saw a line of ponies waiting to get to the counter. There was also a stack of paper, and a quill! How useful! Why didn't hu... Her old place. She remembered them not having such things. She grabbed a sheet of paper and a quill in her magic and got to writing.

Hello Don Keyworks,

While I appreciate the opportunities you have given me, I must set off on my own four hooves. This is my letter of resignation. I will not speak of what I have seen or done, since I assume the NDA is still in effect and I will honor it. Best of luck to you and yours.

Signed,

She started signing it strangely. That was not how one spelled Long. That wasn't even Equestrian. She aborted rapidly and glared at the alien letters. What were... oh... That had been her old name, but she had stopped herself, and it was already gone. She'd never remember that.

With a soft sigh, she wrote out her proper pony name with a little flourish. She folded it into threes, tucked it in an envelope that was also provided. With a lick, she had it sealed and ready to go. She addressed where it was going, but put no coming-from on it. Not like she had an address to put there anyway.

A short wait in the line later, she ambled up to the counter and set down the envelope. "I used your paper and envelope." She assumed she would be paying for that too.

"That's what they're there for," informed the postal stallion with a little shrug. He gestured at the letter. "No stamp, just one bit and we'll fix that."

Only one bit? A bargain! She willed a single bit to float up out of her pocket and over to the stallion. He accepted it with a smile and slapped down a stamp onto the envelope. "Don't you worry, we'll get it where it needs to be." He slid it right off the counter into a basket of similar letters and packages. "Being local, expect it to be there in just a day. Anything else I can help with, ma'am?"

"N-no..." Her eyes were fixed on the letter. As some other pony, a pegasus, grabbed it and flew off with it, she could feel a weight being lifted from her back. She was free... Free to be... whatever she was. "Thank you," she said in a small voice, turning and walking away a bit more stiffly than she had planned.

"Next!"

Long emerged onto the street, taking a slow breath as she did so. She had broken out of not one, but two jails that day. She was free of the shackles of her old life... again, come to think. She had broken out of one other before she was a magic pony, right? She ambled down the sidewalk, her eyes roaming over the storefronts as she went. She saw ponies enjoying themselves at dinner. She saw ponies trying on clothes that ranged from tasteful to outrageous. She saw ponies dancing and enjoying life.

She stopped. She was in front of another clothing store. There were darling dresses and handsome tuxedos, but she wasn't looking at those. A ponyquin had a familiar hat on it. It was so familiar she couldn't shake it. It wasn't Trixie's hat, she wouldn't dare consider such a hat.

It was a wool beanie, grey in color, and it called to her. She had one of those, a long long time ago. She used to wear it all the time. She reared up and put her hooves on the window, staring at the beanie intently. She wanted it... needed it. For all that had changed in her life up until that point... She fell down to all fours and trotted inside. "Excuse me, how much is that beanie?"

As it turned out, pony beanies had slits for perky pony ears to poke right through. Long regarded herself with it on, turning her head left and right.

"You have a refined look, ma'am, are you certain you don't want something more..."

"--No," cut off Long, shaking her head at the salesmare. "This is perfect." She raised a hoof to feel along the woolen texture. "It's... perfect." She had to blink away forming tears even as she smiled. "I'll take it, thank you."

It was a link to her past, a past she would never relive, but never entirely forget. It had shaped her, and was part of her. Despite it being just a hat, she felt remarkably less exposed with it on her head as she rejoined the foot-traffic. It was with some satisfaction that she noted beanies were not 'in fashion'. She had just about the only one. Good, it was her thing, and she was perfectly happy keeping it to herself.

She wandered into an apartment builder in a nicer part of town, far away from Don Keyworks. "Excuse me?" She didn't have an appointment, but she had a good feeling about how ponies operated. "I'd like to get a room?"

A middle-aged mare poked her head out of a room. "Mmm? You'll want to come in here, dear. I'm the superintendent and owner of the building, you see."

With a smile, Long joined the mare in her office. "I was hoping you'd be in. What are the rates?"

"I'm not trying to be rich," insisted the mare as she set down a piece of paper from her mouth to the desk and grabbed a quill up in her teeth. "Ten bits a week. Only 38 if you pay on the first of the month." She scribbled with the quill she held, her head sideways to get its tip in place. "What's your name, dear?"

"Long Story."

"I need something a bit more specific than that."

Long blinked before a little laugh escaped her. She would have to live with that joke forever. "That is my name, Long. Story." She floated some coins free and set them down beside the paper, ten bits. "Let me know when it's time to give up 38, alright?"

The mare turned the paper to face Long. "If you'll stamp here." She gestured to an ink pad.

Long wasn't sure what to do with it and the mare smiled. "Press your hoof against it, then just above where your name's written."

"Oh!" Long touched the pad, then pressed down firmly on the paper. There was a nice imprint of a horseshoe. The oddest part was that she wasn't wearing a horseshoe, and yet, a perfectly horseshoe imprint. "Huh..."

"Here's your key." She grabbed a key off the wall with a snatch of her teeth and tossed them to Long. "You're on the fourth floor. I trust that's alright?"

"Oh, sure." Long nodded softly. "I'll go settle in. Nice to meet you, Miss..."

"Missus Lord."

Long blinked. "First name Land?"

She flashed a smile. "Got it in one. Enjoy your room, and tell me if you need anything. The husband will probably be around within an hour or two to make sure everything's turned on."

Author's Note

Long Story is freeeeee! Wait, did she forget somepony? Well, forgive her, she just got out. Surely a little typo can be forgiven.

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