Untitled 2

From http://pastebin.com/nR5kQBDP:

 

-Anon is a immigration inspector that must either allow ponies through to the portal to earth, reject them, or detain them. This request is like the game "Papers, Please".

 

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        The year 2156.

        New-New York city; nearing midnight.

        Supposedly, there's a date that matches this day too.

 

        Though you couldn't tell. Not even if you wanted to.

        Your days have this tendency of running over into each other. They're not exactly the same, but they're close enough to make them feel like they are.

 

 

 

        It's darker than it should be this time a year. Looking up to the sky shows that it'd start raining in a little while. Just another excuse to get this done as soon as possible.

        You feel the envelope bouncing against your chest as you're walking down these streets. One moment, the muddled orange glow of old streetlights lights the path; the next, you're hidden in shadows.

        You're not really sure which one you prefer more, honestly.

        This isn't a neighborhood you're fond off visiting. Still, knowing what the envelope in your breast pocket was worth, you'd endure this walk.

        They'd set up the meeting at the entrance of some old park. You'd have preferred somewhere more public, though you were willing to settle. Perhaps they had the means to — and you certainly knew they had the motivation to — but they didn't strike you as the type that would strike you.

        By now, you've seen so many of the little creatures , had to disappoint many of them as well, but violence was one thing you couldn't tag on them. Desperation, on the other hand, you could. Something you'd occasionally make use of.

        Just like tonight.

 

        Rounding the corner, the rusted gates of a park where once children might have played came into sight. Maintenance was something that'd been scrapped out of the city's budget years ago, leaving strands of ivy and a variety of weeds to run their course. They'd weaved themselves up the poles of the gate, hiding most of the inside of the park from any onlooking eyes. Then you realized why they'd chosen to meet you here.

        You walked up to the gates, choosing to sit on the waist-high cast concrete in which the gate had been placed. Right in between two lanterns so that you wouldn't be seen, unless sought for. The sooner you were out of here, the better.

        You pulled back the sleeve of your jacket to check your watch. The brightly polished silver plating shimmered in the lanterns' dim glow, illuminating the display just enough so you could make out the time. Mentally berating yourself for walking down these streets with a watch that's worth nearly enough to buy a house in this part of town, you quickly slid your sleeve back down again.

        They were late, as you'd expected them to be. Another ten minutes you'd wait, then you'd simply move on and look for another costumer. The prices might be inane, but a product like the one you possessed was more than a rarity. There aren't many in this line of work, much less any that were willing to be insubordinate. Knowing the consequences, that didn't came as much of a surprise.

        Voices could be heard, coming from behind you. Two of them, to be exact.

 

        You looked over your shoulder and in between the plants, intertwining along the rusted fence, you saw them making their way towards you. There they were, fashionably late. The male — or stallion, you suppose is the right term — up front, his wife slightly hiding behind him. They weren't the type of ponies you'd take a second look at on the streets. Just a simple little family, trying to get by in what they'd been told was a utopia for any unicorn.

        Most of them made good money here: some as simple objects for study; others, the ones with advanced control over their telekinesis, as researchers of some sort. Then there's people who just aren't cut out to have any luck. There are humans like that. And there are ponies like that, too.

 

        "I'm glad you could make it," you greeted him as you slid into the park. Crouching down, you held your hand out towards him. It looked awkward — and it felt awkward as well — but somehow, you felt like it was necessary. He shook your hand with his foreleg and you stood up straight again.

        The stallion simply nodded and looked over his withers at his wife. She blinked rapidly, then her eyes shot open as if she'd had a sudden epiphany. Feverishly, she nodded and with her snout, she nudged open her saddlebags. Coated in a green hue, coming from her husband's horn, an envelope levitated towards you.

        "I-It's all there," he spoke quickly in a hushed voice. "You can count i-if you..."

        You'd already torn open the envelope, apparently silencing him with that move. A moderately sized stack of bills lied in your hand and you started flipping through them.

        The stallion kept quiet, occasionally looking over his withers to nod at his wife. From the corner of my eyes, you saw him mouth words of reassurance to her and soon, a hesitant smile began to spread on her face. Especially when you heard him whisper one word. That one word you hear so much every single day.

 

        "…fifteen …twenty …twenty-five," you muttered just a tad too loud to yourself as you let the bills slip past your fingers. On one hand, you wanted him to know that you still had the option to say 'no' and just walk away with all his money. On the other, you simply wanted him to stop talking. That word... you've heard it so much by now that it's lost its meaning entirely. They keep begging you for it. After a while, it just gets annoying.

        Maybe you weren't cut out for this job. Looking down on the contents of your hand, you knew you weren't.

        "Yeah, seems fine to me." You stuck the money back in its envelope and stuck it in the breast pocket of your jacket. From it, you took your own envelope, handing it over the stallion who grasped it in its magic.

        "It's all there, too," you stated calmly. "Go ahead, see for yourself."

        You saw him shrink under your gaze as he swallowed forcibly. He shook his head, his entire body shivering from the nerves.

        "I-It's okay, I—"

        "I told you to check it." Your voice was still as collected as it had been before, nor had you raised its volume. If you do this job long enough, you don't have to. People learn to know when to take a command. Ponies, too.

        "We're making a deal here; you held up to your half and now I want you to see if I did the same."

        You were making a joke out of him in front of his wife and he knew it. Still, it's just harmless fun. You could've put anything in that envelope and they'd believe it. There's so many rules and laws that overlap and contradict. Everything changes constantly. It's nearly impossible to make sense out of it. Unless you know someone on the inside.

        Unless you know a guy like you.

 

        "S-So, we just bring this and..."

        Lights flashed brightly in the sky, etching the stallion's worn-down features in your vision. This job, it wears you down. Sometimes, it's too easy to forget just what the consequences of your actions are.

        You smiled gently, giving him a single nod. Then the thunder rolled by.

        "Just bring that with you, show it to the people behind the counter and it'll all be over in a matter of minutes."

        In a fit of bravery, the mare strode forward and threw herself around your waist.

        "Thank you so much," she spoke, a waver in her voice showing her sincerity. You simply patted her on the head.

        Had you thought the 'handshake' with the stallion earlier had been awkward, this proved you how wrong you'd been in assuming that. Casting a look at the stallion, he nudged his wife, quickly prying her away from you. He bowed his head and spoke to your shoes, "We're very grateful f-for—"

 

        "Quite alright." You just wanted to get out before the rain made its way to this part of town. "In case the obvious needs to be stated: I wasn't here, you weren't here and we've never seen each other before in our entire lives, understood?"

        He nodded rapidly and as you looked at his wife, she too followed his motions swiftly.

        "Good." You began to make your way back towards the gate, the hefty envelope rhythmically slamming into your chest. A smile began to spread on your face and you'd whistle a tune if that wouldn't bring attention to you. Casting a last glance over your shoulder, you looked at the couple, hugging each other tightly.

        "You folks enjoy your last night here, alright?" you called back to them.

        The two broke their embrace and as they looked at you, they were both smiling as well, holding that envelope in between them. The mare nuzzled his neck and he spoke to you without a stutter, "We will. Thank you very much."

        You resumed your walk back out of the park. The gravel crackled underneath your shoes and as you stuck your hands in your pockets, a single drop of rain struck you in the face. The sensation made you flinch and gone was your smile.

        Then you remembered how you'd just left those two ponies behind. The smiles on their faces. Full of hope again, that they'd finally found a way out. And the envelope in your pocket.

 

        Sometimes, you think you might be just the right guy for this job after all.

 

 

        Then again, you'd do it for free if you really were. But only the sun rises for free. There's bills to be paid, debts and mortgages piling up in a corner of the table you much prefer not to look at nowadays. And if this is what you have to do to keep the lawyers and bailiffs away from your home, so be it. The fact that this in all likeliness was the first good thing to happen to that family in months wasn't too awful, either.

        It grew hard to suppress a bit of a smug grin from spreading on your face. Until the downpour started.

        Like it came out of nowhere, the sky broke apart and started flooding down on you. You muttered a curse towards the entire concept of karma under your breath as you began running. You tried to cover your head as well as you could with the back of your jacket, but were met with little success. Running down the streets, it only seemed to grow worse with each passing moment.

        Either you could run another two miles until you'd reached your car or...

        Deciding that you were far enough away from what you'd call 'dangerous' territory, you turned into a little alley in between two buildings where a shoddy covering of corrugated sheets hung. You didn't bother to ask yourself why someone would make a roof between two buildings; for now, you were just happy that someone had thought that would be a fruitful way to spend a Saturday.

 

        There was the occasional hole in the covering, but overall, this was a vast improvement of the situation you found yourself victim to moments ago.

        Sliding your jacket down to its proper position again, you began staring out into the streets, hoping that the rain would pass by quickly as these sudden storm fronts tend to do.

        The raindrops bursting apart against the roof were occasionally interrupted by thunder rolling through the air, followed moments later by a bright strike of lightning. Sometimes, the streetlights would flicker a few moments right after the lightning had struck, only to flash back on with much buzzing and humming moments after.

        Quietly shaking your head, you heaved a sigh, wondering where the state was investing its money in that was so important that it'd let entire parts of the city fall into decay like this.

 

        You glanced at your wrist again, sighing again in mild annoyance as you realized you'd already been standing here for nearly fifteen minutes with the storm not making any attempts at diminishing any time soon.

        Though you didn't feel much for an impromptu shower.

        So for now, you'd just stand here some more, waiting for the storm to pass. Shrugging your shoulders, you loosened your tie. Work was over for the day, at least you could do that much. You turned around, walking away from the edge of the make-due roof so that you wouldn't get wet by the wind shifting the rain's course.

        And there he sat, behind a dumpster, on a cardboard sheet, wrapped in a grey fleece blanket. His eyes met yours and for a moment, you felt nailed to the ground. The weight in your breast pocket suddenly increased tenfold and you'd run if your feet would just move.

        Then he smiled through tired eyes.

        "That storm is going nowhere, partner," he said in a raspy voice. You'd say he had the voice of a smoker, but you've never seen a pony smoke before. He nodded towards the sheet of cardboard. "You're free to take a seat if you don't mind getting that suit dirty."

 

        Your pocket didn't feel quite as heavy anymore. They just don't have it in them. None of them do, it seems. You've said 'no' to so many by now and none of them have ever convinced you to make that a 'yes'. Almost as if they're afraid to put up a fight.

        "Or you can stand around and stare off into the distance, that's also a fine choice." He chuckled, though he quickly stopped with a wince. Grimacing, he rubbed his throat.

        You could have just ran. Ran straight to your car, drove home, gotten rid of those wet clothes, taken a shower and be done with it.

        That's something you could've done.

        Instead, you slid down along the wall and took him up on his offer. Maybe because he was the only one who'd ever taken the initiative. Maybe because you really didn't want to get wet. Who's to tell?

        You looked at him and his face grew wrinkled with a smile.

        "So," he said, his brow flaring upwards just a little, "what brings you to my humble abode?" He laughed quietly and you felt a corner of your mouth take to the sky. His laughter died out, fading into a labored breath instead. Sinking back into his blanket, he rested against the dumpster again, his eyes falling and opening slowly.

        Your brow fell as you watched the stallion just sit there, on the verge of sleep. Occasionally, his breathing would become ragged and he'd cough a little, but he didn't seem perturbed by your company in the slightest. Looking around, there was nothing else in the entire alley. Guess you don't have much reason to be cautious if you don't have anything but a blanket and a sheet of cardboard.

        Rain still sounded like myriad metallic sounds ticking against the roof. You'd be here for a while.

        "So, what's your story?" he suddenly asked, interrupting the not-so-quiet silence.

        After few moments of not receiving an answer, he turned towards you. "If you'd rather sit here for Celestia knows how long in this weather in dead silence, just tell me," he said, opening his eyes a little wider. "Really, just say so, I don't mind. I'll leave you alone, if you'd rather..."

        "No, it's..." You turned away from looking at him. The two of you now stared at the wall opposing you. "What is it that you mean precisely with 'my story'?"

        "I mean, what's a guy in a suit like yours doing in a place like this at a time like this?"

        Keeping your gaze aimed at the wall, you softly shook your head. "Just taking a little walk." From the corner of your eye, you saw the stallion turning towards you. Turning to meet his eyes, you saw him nod at you.

        "That's okay," he said. He briefly smiled again, the skin around his eyes wrinkling again as he did so. "We've all got secrets."

        He turned away from you, looking for his comfy spot against the dumpster again. "You don't have to tell me. It's none of my business."

        And just like he said, so he did. Staring off at the wall again, it's like he never even asked you anything at all. This stallion, he didn't seem afraid to put up a fight.

        He seemed like he'd lost one. Lost them all, maybe.

 

        "How about you?"

        Not bothering to change his resting position, his voice came slow, barely audible above the storm going on above your head, "What about me?"

        Whether he was bobbing his head, ready to fall asleep any given moment, or simply nodding at himself, you couldn't really tell.

        "What's there to tell?"

        "How you ended up here might be a start."

        You felt shivers rolling down your back as a lone drop of rain had slid its way down along the wall, seeping straight into the back of your jacket's fabric. White wafts of vapor left the stallion's rolled up blanket, soon followed by more coughing.

        "I don't bother anyone here. It's dry. What else could I ask for?" His lips curled into a smile and he opened his mouth, as if he were ready to share another bout of laughter with himself. But it seemed he couldn't bring himself to it. Not this time.

        "Would you believe me if I told you I once was wealthy?" he asked.

        Letting your eyes run down over his frame, though hidden by the blanket he shrouded himself in, you could tell he could stand to gain a few pounds. Maybe more like a dozen or so.

        "I don't know. Should I?"

        "Micro-biotic engineering is what you people call it," he said. "No offence, by the way," he quickly added.

        "None taken."

        He nodded, more determined this time. "Micro-biotic engineering... We just call it magic, you know? Help plants grow bigger. A little faster too, sometimes."

        "Yeah, I think I read something about that in the newspaper."

        "Hmmm, I bet you did." Resting himself against the cold steel of the dumpster, he tried to hide himself deeper into his worn-out sleeping bag. "Used to be a real bigshot," he remorsefully reminisced.

        "So, how'd you end up..."

        He turned towards you, poking his head out of the comfortable embrace and warmth of the gray cloth. He tilted his head, staring off deeply into the alley, his gaze aiming somewhere just next to you. A chuckle got caught in his throat, resulting in a silent hiccup from the stallion.

        "I worked too hard."

        He shook his head and you saw him fumbling underneath the blanket. Moments later, a golden liquid slid down his mouth as he took a swig from a half-empty bottle. He held it out to you, though with a shake of your head and a polite gesture of hand, he quickly put it back in storage.

        "Four months. That's what the advertisement said. It'd take four months." He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. From above, rain kept falling, unconcerned by whom would fall victim to its prowess. "And the pay was great. Almost seemed to be too good to be true, you know?"

        He cast you a quick glance, but he didn't bother to wait for an answer. "So I contacted them, got the paperwork all fixed and I came here." In the distance, the faint rumble of thunder could be heard. "Things went great. A bit too great, maybe."

        Dropping your brow in questioning, the stallion answered your non-verbal query, "We finished up the entire project in three months."

        "That's a good thing, right?"

        Tilting his head, the stallion shrugged. "I thought so too, at first. I mean, I had my visa for four months, so I thought I'd just hang around a little. You know, do some sight-seeing and whatnot..."

        "So, how'd you wind up here?"

        "The company paid me everything up front. Told me I could go back home, that I did my job fantastically." Another swig from the bottle kept him quiet for a few moments.

 

        "But, come on... A whole new world to see and they expect me to just up and leave right away?" The stallion shook his head. "No way, I was allowed to stay here four months, so I'd stay here four months."

        He began chewing his lower lip, letting the memories play out in front of him through closed eyes. "Did some sight-seeing, ate some weird human food at way too expensive restaurants, rode a bus,..."

        Turning towards you once more, he smiled again. "Simple things, you know. Nothing over the top. I'm not like that."

        "Okay, that still doesn't tell me w—"

 

        "A week? Maybe it was a week. I think it was a week," he interrupted. "Anyway, like a week or so before I was supposed to go back, they stole from me."

        Grimacing, he bit back his anger and his shame, too. "Was my own stupid fault. I just wanted to ride one of those underground train-thingies so bad. Thought it'd be a fun thing to do, honestly."

        With a soft thud, the stallion's head hit against the wall as he slumped into his rolled up blanket again. "Until they stole all the money I had on me and all my paperwork..." He sighed once more, shifting around to look for a more comfortable position. "But, okay. These things happen. So I went straight to the police to go file a report just like all those tourist guides say you should. You know what happened there?"

        You quietly shook your head.

 

        He laughed. "They asked me my name." He shrugged again, his blanket scraping against the damp wall as he did so. "So I told them. Leaf, Augus Leaf. That's what I told them. That's my name, after all."

        The stallion snorted. For the first time tonight, he didn't seem quite as burned out as before. "Sorry sir, that name does not exist."

        He looked down on the bottle that'd rolled out of his blanket, though the sour expression on his face quickly made him look away from it.

        "Tell me, do you see me sitting here?"

        Your nodding only seemed to aggravate him further. "Well, apparently you shouldn't. That's something your kind of people really are known for, you know that?" He didn't bother to correct himself this time. "Paperwork. Having everything neat and sorted in files and tables. The fact that I actually was standing inside the police office didn't really seem to matter much if I didn't have some sort of paper to prove it."

        "What did you say your name was again?"

        The stallion's brow fell in a furrow, the anger clearly readable on his face. "Augus Leaf. But what does it matter? I'm nopony."

        "Did you tr—"

       

        "Stop." He glared at you, shaking his head. "Just stop, okay? I tried everything. I went to the gateway station, trying get my paperwork there. 'Sorry sir, no pony by the name of Augus Leaf. Next please.'" He let his head fall against the dumpster, staring off at the other end of the alley again. A sullen look was etched on his features, yet his body lied utterly still. The only fight he had left was one with himself.

        "Then I tried to contact Princess Celestia. Surely, she could sort this whole mess out." From the covers of his blanket, he glared at that wall, intent on leveling it through sheer willpower. "Except that you can't send a post-package without a valid name. And I get that, you know. Sending an unnamed package across the border of two worlds towards our leader..." He shrugged, as well as shaking his head, only causing him to slide down against the wall. "Yeah, doesn't really sound like a good idea to me, either.

        "Hey, do you mind if?" You nodded at the bottle, laying in between the both of you.

        Seemingly effortlessly, he magicked a thin smile on his face. "Go ahead. The least I can do after trying to bore you to death, I figure."

        "Go on."

        "What?"

        You took a swig of the bottle. Stronger than your usual, but not too bad given the circumstances, you guess.

        "Keep telling."

       

        He blinked a few times, trying to clear the confusion of his mind before he gave a single nod.

        "I figured if I had my work visa, I could go home and fix my paperwork there. Much easier if I could do it there. So I went back to my old workplace, told them what happened and that I needed their help and a bit of money to get back home. Know what they did?"

        Heaving a sigh, you shook your head. Some ponies just weren't meant to have much luck. But this guy really could've used a break.

        "They thought I spent it all. And you know, I wasn't supposed to be there at all. Let me tell you," he said with a faint smirk on his face, "they aren't hiring unicorns there ever again. I was running on my last nerves back then and things got a bit out of control..."

        With a nod of his head, you passed him the bottle. "So that was it for me. No way to go home or even contact them. Can't do a single thing here without a visa or just a name."

        As the last rivulet ran down his throat, he threw the bottle against the wall on the other side of the alley, shattering it on impact.

        "I haven't got a single dollar or bit to my name. Tartarus, I don't even have a name..."

        Augus Leaf. Something tells you you've seen that name before.

        "Just this blanket and the change people are willing to give me when I go begging in the center of town."

        He lied his head against the blanket and you couldn't pretend not to hear the quiet sobs that came from your left.

        "I-I— We were going to buy a house with the money. I knew it had to be too good to be true. Four months of work and we'd have enough money to move into a bigger place. M-maybe think about having kids someday..."

        Augus Leaf. That name sounds too familiar.

        "And n-now I haven't heard from her in almost four months..."

        You shouldn't have come here. Should've left when you had the chance.

        "To Tartarus with the money now. I just want to go back. If I could take it all back... Celestia, if I could just take it all back... She probably thinks I'm dead..."

       

        Then it all turned quiet, save for the soft sobbing of the stallion. No more rain.

       

        Standing up straight, you stepped in front of the stallion. You knew his name. "Go back tomorrow."

        His eyes, red and watery, sought yours. "What's the point?"

        "Listen to me. Go to the gateway station. Tomorrow. First thing in the morning and try again."

        The stallion drew a slow breath, quietly shaking his head.

        "Just do it, okay?!"

       

        On that note, you stormed out of the alley, towards your car. Big strides send splashes of murky rainwater over your polished leather shoes, but all you could think about was that stallion in the alley. And that name. The streets were entirely silent, save for the sounds of a madman muttering to himself. With a push of the button and a muted mechanical click, the doors of your car unlocked. Crashing into the driver seat, you threw the envelope out of your pocket. Money fell out onto the seat, falling down on the floor mats. You shook your head.

        Augus Leaf. A few months ago.

        Another envelope.

 

        "Jesus..."

 

        You turned on the ignition, the engine and the lights of your car quickly coming to live afterwards. You kept staring at the pile of money next to you as you turned around, heading straight towards the center of town. How many red lights you ran past in your rush, you didn't know.

 

        "This can't... I didn't..."

 

        There wasn't a single car in the parking lot yet. The red digits on your dashboard blinked 01:56. Sinking back in your chair, you replayed Augus' story in your mind. You knew there'd be consequences to your actions. On your end. What happened to the names inside the envelopes was something you'd never given thought to. If they reapplied, there oughtn't be an issue. But if there was, if they all ended up like him...

        You let your head rest against the cold glass of the car's window. The sensation felt soothing, making your head just a bit cleared. This couldn't go on. Not after tonight. 02:03. Sleep wouldn't find you that night.

 

 

 

 

        With shaky hands, you grasped the mug of coffee on your desk. You heard a click and as you looked up, the doorman gave you a nod. He hadn't the faintest idea that you'd been sitting here for hours already. To your right, the computer screen showed you the red outline of a rectangle sitting around the name of Augus Leaf. There's so much tampering happening with these files, you'd found it wasn't even that hard to make someone disappear completely. And there's so many ponies looking for the proper papers to go back.

        For the right prize, you coul—

 

        The right prize. There wasn't much right to be done with what you did.

 

        "Excuse me, sir." The voice of a chainsmoker. With just a single click, the outline became green again. Now there were two that went by this name.

        They'd found out. Sooner, rather than later. Maybe a day. Maybe days.

 

        You'd always known what the consequences of your actions would be.

        "Sir?"

 

        "Yes, how can I help you?" The voice of a thief. He looked up, his eyes widening in disbelief.

        "...Y-you."

 

        "A problem with your papers, you say? No problem at all, sir." Your gaze rested on your screen's display for a moment. Once these rolled out the printer, you were done for.

        "You! You're..."

 

        But he'd be with his family again.

 

        "Here you go, sir. If you hurry, you can cross before noon." Soundlessly, you slid the paperwork underneath the little opening in the protective glass.

 

        With his mouth agape, he stared at you, his eyes glistening in sincerity in the humming of the TL-lights overhead. Shaking his head, he stepped as close to the glass as he could, as close to you as he could.

        "Thank you," he said. His voice seemed to carry itself lighter, less worried.

 

        "Don't thank me." You pointed towards the check-up gate. "You should hurry, sir."

 

        His face once more grew host to a smile, more radiant than it'd been in months. Slowly, he turned around, beginning to make his way towards the right of the building.

 

        You heard that word, so much. And you never really understood it. Maybe because you don't know what they mean by it. What they really mean. But now, you'd seen a glimpse of what they meant and you realized that you were right all along. You weren't the guy for this job.

 

        "Augus?"

       

        He turned around and a look of fear overtook his smile. He stood there, wound like a coil, ready to dash off in an instant if they threatened to take it away from him again. So close to the line, he wouldn't allow it.

 

        "Have a safe trip home."

 

 

 

 

                                «http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4ERekF7RGbM»