"Having fun?" A mare stood beside them, puffing up at her mane that hung in the way of her vision. "I bet you'll get a winning streak going soon."

"Yeah." The human drew on the arm of the machine. "I'm not a big fan, really. Just wasting some time."

"Not sure? I can fix that." She smirked perhaps a little too viciously, but he wasn't looking at her. "Three games."

"Three games?" Eric had won a single chip from a cherry to start. Not a big win by any measure. "What three games, for what?" He looked at Doctor Fetlock, but saw only a human woman, not a pony.

"Win three of them." Fetlock gestured at the wide array of gaming machines. "Doesn't even have to be in a row. Do that and I'll give you what you want."

"Okay, that's a sketchy offer." He pointed at the strange woman. "You don't even know me, or what I want."

"Confidence," she stated with complete confidence of her own. "To be rid of your worries. Just like that show, you can just be you, without hesitation."

That show? Eric peered sidelong at her as he drew down the arm, sending the slots tumbling with a promise of riches he'd never win. "That's kinda generic." Not many people who didn't want more confidence, he quietly figured, or to get rid of some kind of worry or another.

But the machine began to beep and chime. He'd won, again! More than just a single cherry that time. He collected the tokens that spilled out of the machine with a bit of a smile. "Maybe you're not all off." Had a hot streak coming on been somehow known to the lady? He didn't even notice when his long equine ears twitched atop his head, a second pair, his human ones working on reabsorbing into his body.

"That's one," taunted the lady who also had big equine ears, reflecting his altered state, not that he was paying too much attention. "Two more and you get it. You can keep the money too."

He had won a little, but he could win more? He dropped a new token in and gave a pull, watching the slots. His shoes fell off mid shuffle, leaving him on hooves instead, though he still had his socks on over those. "Ha, see?" He collected more tokens with larger numbers printed on them.

Eric pushed away from the machine still at Fetlock's expecting look. "Aren't you supposed to not leave while you're on a streak?"

"You're not leaving, just changing machines. Have some faith." Fetlock followed after Eric, her own tail twitching in a sway that he couldn't yet see. Her fishing had caught one on the line. She just had to reel it in… "Life at a casino is glamorous, hm?"

"Not sure I'd use that word." Casinos were loud, and wanted your money, and… had given him some, against all odds. Some small part of himself was nudging for the door. His hot streak couldn't go on forever. He'd lose eventually. Get out with what he had, that was the smart thing to do! But he didn't leave, searching instead for the game that felt right.

Eric found a game that was more than just slots. It was like whack-a-mole, but promised the chance to win big if one had the skill, and luck, of course. He took hold of the big cartoonishly bright mallet. "I can do this." He set a token in and it began to play music loud and cheerfully as targets rose into view to be swatted at.

With each correct target that he brought the mallet down on, a little change came with it. At first, he slid sideways, still human, but less a man. His features softened and his chest pushed out. His voice rose in octaves with his grunts of efforts, little cheers and groans when he missed. "Zut!" he cried in a language he didn't know, but wasn't really thinking about that in frustration. "I can do better." He shoved another coin in.

Though he wasn't focused on it at the time, he had quite the erection, pressing stiffly against his pants as he focused on the game, striking and crying with victory at every target. The game, in some ways, was a channel for that masculinity, a victorious hunter, but losing it all the same as he became less of a he with every tiny step forward. The stiffness faded, never becoming soft, but dwindling to nothing, then pressing inwards, but she was still roused, excited, warm and hot instead of long and stiff.

Her fingers became softer, the nails though longer, shining with a gloss Eric surely had never put on herself. This wasn't stopping her from savagely paddling at the table, getting closer and closer to the grand prize. She had started as a man, but had become a warrior woman, chest heaving as she focused intently on each moving target, to avoid the bad ones and not let a good one escape her vigil.

As she drew closer to the finale, other changes crept over her, a long tail smoothly slipping free of her pants as if they had been tailored for the task. Fur tickled and itched, but she managed to ignore it and keep her focus as she became buried in a smooth and soft pelt that was ever so gentle to the touch. Fancy Pants would surely be so very proud of her when she told him the tale.

"Oui!" She brought down the hammer on the last, the machine exploding in lights and sounds, announcing her triumph as tokens spilled out of the side. Her face ached a moment, as it ought to, pushing out into a long equine snout before her, but she was distracted with the giddy high of victory. She had won.

Fetlock brushed past Eric, causing her new tail to twitch. Eric was about halfway between worlds at that point, a shapely anthropomorphic pony that shone with energy. "Looking good. I knew you'd go hot as the sun." She puffed up at the mane that had fallen in her eyes. "One more. I know you can do it. Besides, you've already won so much."

"Yeah! Yeah…" Eric grabbed a bag that seemed to be placed there for such an emergency, filling it with all the tokens she had won. If she left at that point, it would have been a great day! If she left at that point, perhaps she could have returned to humanity. But… "One more." She could win so much more. "This one, oui." She took almost dancing steps towards a new machine. "I have the bon sentiment of this one."

But it wasn't a machine at all, a fact she noticed only after the giddy high ebbed just enough to let her focus. A pony was dealing cards with a glowing horn. "Deal in?" Tempest began to deal the other players, her horn sparking as she dispensed the starting position to each pony there, though they all appeared halfway, just as Eric did, to herself at least. Though Tempest was using her magic, she had hands. They all had hands.

"S'il vous plaît." Eric sat down, tail swaying eagerly behind her. "I am on fire today." She felt like it, that heat only building with every victory. A small voice called to her, suggesting she stop. She had won so much already. That was enough, right? She could lose it all.

But Fleur knew she could only have fun, and perhaps win so much more! "Thank you." She accepted the cards with her own glowing horn as her spine reconfigured to a four-legged stance. Instead of sitting as a human might on the stool, she began to sit on her haunches atop the stool.

Around her, the world was full of ponies, as it always had been. "Raise." She shoved more tokens forward, eyes shining on her hand. Surely she'd win. "Raise. Oui!" Though still woman, she was a pony woman, a mare. Her breasts had moved down without her notice, becoming part of her lower torso. Her rounded snout was the most obvious hint to other ponies, but her long lashes and soft voice made identifying what she was all the easier.

A stallion winked at her as they raced her, one of the few other ponies willing to raise the stakes that high. "Love a mare with a sense of adventure." But did she have a sense of adventure? No! That quiet part of her was storming. Get out! Call it off! No no no! But Fleur did not pay them mind, sliding shut that mental window to discover it later. She had a game to win!

"Behold!" She set down her hand with a grin of triumph.

That stallion whistled softly. "A mighty impressive spread." Ha ha! Victory! Why hadn't he conceded? He set down his cards with a torturous slow pace, Celestia, Luna, Cadence, Twilight. A full spread of princesses. One of the best hands one could have, and quite rare, some of those cards being quite new with the new princesses. Fleur stared with naked shock. How could that have been?! Fleur had lost. "A mighty good game." The stallion tipped his hat. "Do you work here?"

Her tokens were taken away. "Oui," she got out weakly. She did work there, right? That felt… proper. Fleur staggered to the floor, the shock of losing leaving her stiff and confused. That voice needled at her. She had thrown away caution, and with it, she had lost it all.

"You were doing so well." Fetlock was still there. "You look tired. Why don't you head to the break room?" She was pointing the way, sending the newest recruit on her way. "Welcome to the casino."

She walked along with Fleur. "You must be overwhelmed. Being new isn't easy," she counseled, brainwashing the impressionable Fleur along the way. "You are a show mare, have been for a few weeks now. The ponies, they love you. They love watching you, playing with you, just being around you."

"Oui…" Sure… sure, that made sense… "But I failed."

"Look back there." Fetlock tossed her pointed head back at the table they left. "That stallion's playing twice as hard now. He'll probably leave without any bits, thanks to you. You didn't fail, you won, for the casino. Such a good mare you are."

"Oh…" Fleur moved ahead of Fetlock, as if some amount of succor could be found in the breakroom for her troubled mind.

It was in the breakroom that Fleur met her first of the mares. Sure, she had been dealt cards by Tempest, but had hardly paid attention to that one. "Nice." Spitfire was watching her. "Loved it. You look…"

"Pardon, but I have lost track of where it is I should be." Fleur batted at an ear with a hoof. "I am being most forgetful today."

"Not a problem." Spitfire set a hoof on Fleur's shoulder. "We're all a little scatterbrained when we're new. Don't sweat it. We mares stick together." She stood up tall. "This way." Spitfire took Fleur to what seemed to be a bedroom for staff. "Octy, I got a newbie."

Octavia sat up on her bed. "I told you I prefer being alone." She was glaring both at Spitfire and Fleur. "Can't you put her somewhere else?"

"There ain't a somewhere else to put them, so tough luck." She nudged Fleur forward. "Don't mind her cold exterior. Octavia's a great pony when you get to know her."

Octavia snorted as Spitfire fled, looking to Fleur. "Very well… Welcome then. I prefer quiet, and ask that you respect that. Occasionally, I need to practice my music. Do you object to that?"

Fleur spotted the cello leaned against a wall. "Is it this?" She took hold of it in her magic. "It is a wonderful instrument." Her eyes wandered over the finely lacquered wood and taught strings. She did not realize that her appreciation won her a vital friend that day, the first of her new life.

Author's Note

And in this chapter, we skip back to the start, the source of the typos lade bare.

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