Starlight sat in Medraut’s office, ears back, an awkward frown on her face. Medraut had his hooves folded on the desk, he used them to hide his muzzle.

“I see,” Medraut said. His expression was impassive, unreadable.

Starlight leaned forward. “But I know how to return them as well,” she said. “Once the storage medium is broken, a cutie mark returns to its owner.”

“And there’s no confusion, no mistaken exchange?” Medraut said. “Fascinating. I wish you had come to me sooner. This is truly an accomplishment for the ages.”

Starlight’s head dipped. She was afraid of this. Of course he wouldn’t be angry that she abused his research, he was a consummate academic. His pride, his ego, would outshine his moral compunctions. “Professor, I don’t think it’s much of an accomplishment.”

“Nonsense,” Medraut said,” do you know what this means for the state of cutie mark research?” He rose from his chair and walked to the wall left of Starlight. It was more a large bookshelf than a wall, really, and it was covered with rare tomes and the professor’s writing. “Ponies have been researching the origin and meaning of cutie marks for as long as we have records. They’re an indispensable part of our very being. Ah.” He pulled a book from the wall. Large, old, and, Starlight was horrified to see, leather bound.

Medraut returned to his desk, thumped the book down, and opened it. “The ancient Sumareans kept records of their citizens’ cutie marks for centuries. Theirs are the earliest, extensive records we have. Not until Roam would this kind of accounting again be seen.” He flipped through pages, his horn glowing a dull yellow, and stopped on a cuneiform scribbled section with crude images. Cutie marks. “But they had something else. Their records tell of the ability to transfer cutie marks between hosts. This way they were able to maintain social stability, to assure no key function was lost. In other words, cutie marks were not unique, nor were they sacred in the same way we think them today.”

Starlight peered at the page. The image seemed to depict a pony on their deathbed. There were some strange objects, they looked like braziers, but they did not contain flames. A group of ponies seemed to transfer the mark from the dying—or maybe already dead, Starlight couldn’t tell—pony, into the brazier. The final image showed a foal being pulled from the brazier, the cutie mark now emblazoned on it’s rear.

“The significance of this cannot be overstated,” Medraut said. “I’d thought, with most of my peers, for the longest time that cutie marks were special, that they said something unique about the pony who possessed them. But that may have been the wrong way to think about them.” He flipped the page again. There were more drawings. This time an alicorn. Her cutie mark was the sun.

Starlight tilted her head. “Celestia? But even she wasn’t alive that long ago.”

“And yet the sun still needed to be risen,” Medraut said. “And so it is for every other essential function in our society, and for those functions that, to us, seem inessential. The difference between the two, of course, depends on social form. It’s a relative distinction.” He looked up at Starlight. “I believe you have proven correct an old idea, that cutie marks are not what make ponies special. They are not tokens of individuality. They serve a distinct social purpose. They are evolutionary tokens, adapted for the survival of pony kind.”

Starlight grimaced. “But if that’s true, then every cutie mark that exists may have had multiple owners.”

“And how could it be otherwise?” Medraut said. “A unique identifier for every pony who has ever lived? It’s an absurd notion. How many permutations of a fruit cutie mark can you have?”

Starlight thought of the Apple family. A lot.

Medraut rounded his desk and placed a hoof on Starlight’s withers. “You have done me, no, all of Equestria a great service, Starlight. But this is only the beginning.” He trotted past her and placed the book back on the shelf. “For your findings to be taken seriously, they need to be reproducible.”

Starlight felt the bottom drop from her stomach. “Professor, no. We can’t. Ponies shouldn’t be stripped of their cutie marks. No pony deserves that.”

“Calm down, Starlight. It would only be temporary, an experiment. Nopony will be hurt, and, as you’ve said, the cutie marks will return to their rightful owners on their own.” He returned to his desk and sat. “The experiment will be undertaken in a controlled environment. The Institutional Review Board will be notified, and the subject’s full consent will be a prerequisite for any test.” He waved his hoof. “All standard procedure. I assure you, this will be perfectly safe and meet the highest forms of our ethical commitments.”

Starlight was unconvinced. The experiment may have been conducted ethically, but that said nothing about whether the experiment itself was ethical. She lowered her head. What could she do? Her protest meant little. Medraut knew now that his findings were correct, and he could proceed without her help if he wanted. But if he did, it would be without her improvements on his spell, a situation more dangerous for participants than any scenario involving her cooperation.

“Professor,” she said, “can I have your word on one thing?”

“What is it?”

“You will help me develop a counter spell.” She looked into his eyes.

He seemed surprised, but his face hardened into cool understanding. “A practical suggestion. Agreed.”

--

Anon lounged on a bench along Woodland Walk. He had a bag of cinnamon nuts—they were a mix of almonds and pecans—and popped a few into his mouth. His stomach grumbled and he stopped. He’d learned that meant enough food for a sitting.

He looked along the trail and stood when he saw her: Blueberry Banana trotted toward him, yellow mane bouncing, tail waving atop her perky pony plot. He waved at her and she stopped, a bit of crimson in her cheeks.

“Hi, Anon. I’m so glad you asked me out. I don’t usually get approached by stallions, it’s the other way around.”

Anon tisked. “They don’t know what they’re missing.”

“I brought bits,” she said. “I can buy you something to eat. What do you want?”

Anon shook his head. “I’m good, I had a few cinnamon nuts. Want some?” He held up the bag.

“Sure!” Blueberry took the bag with her wing and the started walking.

Anon eyed up her side as they went. She had a nice figure, curvy and a little plump, and with definition in the right areas, or area as it were. “So, you go to school here, huh?” He said as he watched her hips sway.

“Uh huh, this is my last year. I came to study meteorology. Most of my family are weather ponies, so I know a lot about it. But then I joined the drama club and fell in love with acting, so I switched to a theater major.”

“Neat,” Anon said. He didn’t really care.

“What do you do? Are you new to Fillydelphia?” Blueberry asked.

“Whatever comes,” Anon said. “Yeah, I just got in yesterday. Haven’t been here in a while. Do you want to go somewhere private?”

“I don’t know. I thought we were going to grab something to eat.”

“Not hungry,” Anon said. “Still recovering from a surgery, so I get hungry in flashes. It’s weird.”

“I hope it wasn’t serious.”

“Nah.”

They came to the Horsehead and Anon brought Blueberry inside. He took her to his and Starlight’s room and took a seat on the bed while she looked around.

“I’ve passed this place so many times, but I’ve never been inside before. It’s nicer than I expected.”

“It’s okay,” Anon said. “Come sit down.”

Blueberry got on the bed next to him. She looked nervous.

“I’m not used to such a bold stallion,” she said. “Usually stallions are timid. Many don’t talk much, and the ones that do tend to be shy. I was with a stallion once who I treated to a nice dinner. He told me he was ready to, you know, but when I brought him to my room, he danced around it for hours. He griped about everything until I got so bored, I walked him home.”

“Uh huh,” Anon said.

“And another Stallion I met at the pool hall. He was so confident when he played, but he was hogging the table. So, me and my friends bet him on a game. If we won, he’d give up the table. But If he won, he got his choice of us. We won, but we gave him the choice anyway. He was cute. He picked me but he didn’t know what to do after that. He was so timid. Finally, I told him to join me in the bathroom and when we were in there, he tried to eat me out. He did a terrible job. I tried to cum, but I couldn’t make it. So, I told him to forget about it and he got really angry. He called me a bitch, so I socked him.”

“Sounds pretty bad,” Anon said.

“It was,” Blueberry said. “And his friends didn’t like it, so they came after me, but my friends were there too. It was a real brawl. There was glass everywhere, tables got flipped over, we broke some furniture. I’m not sure how we made it out of there, but we did. I went back the next day and apologized to the owner, but he said it was alright.”

“Happen a lot, huh?” Anon said.

“You have no idea. Like this one time…” And she went on and on like that. Anon wondered how many hours oxygen supply his hotel room had. Whatever the number, she divided it by a quarter with each story. And the worst part wasn’t the talking itself. Anon was fine with talking. But this mare was vapid. It was a wonder she was still conscious, Anon was sure she’d have succumb to hypoxia by now. He tried to stroke her back while she spoke, but she seemed to think it encouragement and talked more. And the more time that ticked by, the more he grew to hate her company, until he’d had enough.

“Well, I’ve got to get some stuff done,” Anon said.

“Aw, but I was just starting to get comfortable,” Blueberry said. “Let me stay a little longer.

“No.” Anon noticed his rejection was too quick. “I mean, maybe later. I have an important appointment soon.”

Blueberry’s ears sank. “Well, alright. I had a lovely time though.” She kissed him on the cheek. “Ask me out again? You know where to find me.”

“Sure,” Anon said. Blueberry got off the bed and left the room without fanfare. Anon had no intention of talking to her again. She’d taken his nuts.

--

Starlight returned to the room mid-afternoon after discussing the experiment’s details with Medraut. She felt weary, though nothing she’d done was physically stressing. She found Anon on the bed, a magazine in hand. His attention snapped to her. He seemed happy to see her. She was happy to see him, too.

She splashed water on her face in the bathroom, then joined him. He opened his arms and she snuggled against him. They spoke little for an hour. Starlight expected him to bombard her with questions about the meeting, but he asked nothing past how it went. “Badly” was enough for him. He kissed her nose and she rested her head against his chest. She appreciated the brevity, but articulating why was difficult. She took comfort in his embrace instead.

After some time, they began chatting idly. She asked him what he did. He responded with “very little”. She looked up at his face. He was already looking at her, lips curled. She nuzzled them, then kissed. He kissed back and his hands traveled down her sides. He rested one on her butt and stroked it. It felt nice. Then he asked if she was hungry. She said yes and they left the hotel room in search of a restaurant.

They found the campus grill. It smelled of cigarettes and fried food. The interior was diner style, with booths and tables that looked older than her. Anon slid into a booth. She was going to sit across from him, but scooted in beside him instead. He placed his arm around her and kissed her horn. She felt a jolt.

The waitress came and they ordered. Anon decided on a falafel, she got hay cakes. When the waitress left, Starlight leaned into Anon.

“Do you know anypony in this city?” She asked.

“Yeah,” Anon said. “But I don’t know if they’re in the same place.”

“We can go find them tomorrow if you want.”

Anon shrugged. “You know I’m not really into this whole apology tour thing.” He scratched his chin. “I already got what I wanted out of it.”

Starlight giggled. “Oh no, you’re not getting out of it that easily. We told Twilight we were going to do some hard reconciling, and that’s what we’re going to do.”

Anon sat up. Starlight looked at him; he was peering around the room. When he’d scanned it, he lowered his face to hers and kissed her. His lips were open, warm and inviting, and she felt his tongue slip into her mouth. It was smaller and narrower than the last stallion she kissed. She pushed her tongue into his mouth and slipped it past those sharp teeth that used to frighten her when he smiled. He tasted sweet. Her body quivered and she felt heat spread through her body and beneath her tail.

“Ahem, your waters.”

They broke abruptly. The waitress placed their cups on the table, her face flat, judgmental. Embarrassment twanged through Starlight.

“Thanks.” Starlight lifted her glass with her horn and took an awkward sip. The waitress trotted off, tail giving a dismissive flick behind her.

“Uh, oops,” Anon said. “That’s what I was trying to avoid.”

Starlight placed her cup down and flattened her ears. “She’s gone now. It should be clear.” She placed her hoof on Anon’s leg and lifted her muzzle to him. He obliged. They kissed again, this time a more gentle, relaxed kiss. Somehow it sucked more oxygen from her lungs than a gallop. When they broke, Starlight felt dissatisfied. The kiss was filling enough, but she wanted more. She moved her hoof toward his crotch.

“S-Starlight, what are you…”

“Shh,” she said. Her hoof came to rest atop his bulge. It felt firm. He was already hard. Starlight bit her lip and rubbed it. “I’m impulsive, remember?” She said, then pushed her nose into his neck. He grew tight against her. She liked it. She liked that she was doing it to him. She glanced across the diner. Nopony seemed to be paying attention. She lit her horn and unzipped his pants.

Anon kept his arm around her and his grip was growing more firm. He lowerd his lips to the top of her head and brushed them against the tip of her horn again. She felt a surge and sparks showered his lap and the table.

She was almost to her prize. The boxers still between it and her were annoying. Why did humans wear two layers of clothes? It was overkill. She lowered her head and nudged at his fly. She felt his dick twitching beneath the cloth. She nuzzled it.

“Starlight, maybe we shouldn’t here,” Anon said.

Starlight remained quiet. She pulled at the button on his boxers until it snapped off, then spit it out. She moved the cloth aside with her muzzle and his penis flopped out. Finally! She brushed her lips against it. It smelled musky. The scent made her nethers burn. He was wiggling, helpless, against her, but she ignored him. She had what she wanted.

“The waitress!” Anon hissed.

Starlight lifted her head and dropped a napkin over his lap.

“Falafel,” the waitress said. She slid Anon’s plate across the table. “Haycakes.” She did the same for Starlight’s. “Can I get y’all anything else?” She was salty, Starlight could tell. Did she know what they were doing? She didn’t seem to, but maybe she suspected it. Starlight liked that.

“No, thank you.” Starlight said and smiled.

The waitress hmphed and trotted off. Starlight looked at her pancakes and stuck out her tongue. She was hungry for something else. She removed the napkin from Anon’s lap. He chuckled like a standup at a tough crowd. She opened her mouth and wrapped her lips around his tip. He wasn’t laughing anymore.

She lowered her head slowly. Anon’s hand seemed to be searching for something along her back, an anchor maybe. She was unconcerned. She took him to the middle of his shaft, then slid back up. She lingered, her lips on his tip, and twirled her tongue. He moaned, then clasped a hand to his mouth. She grinned. A wicked grin, she felt, but she was unsure how sinister it looked with a penis in her mouth.

Starlight lowered her head again, tongue brushing along his shaft. She liked the taste, it was salty. She also liked how it twitched. She went all the way this time, until his dick bumped the back of her mouth. She wondered if that surprised him. She felt it pulsing, but she held it. She felt his heartbeat through it; it was a drum solo. She was so hot. She wanted more, though she couldn’t say of what.

Anon lowered his hand atop her head. He felt so tense. She wanted to ask him why in an ironic tone. She’d have to save that for later.

Starlight began sucking. Anon clinched his jaw and moved his hips. Her nostrils flared and she bobbed, she imagined it was like sucking a candy cane or a spoon with ice cream. The thought of him in her mouth made her body ache, she wanted to taste him, for him to coat her mouth with his sperm. She worked and worked, and she felt him tighten against her. His hand pressed atop her head.

“Stop,” he said.

She did. She looked up at him and drew her mouth from his shaft. Was the waitress coming again?

Anon sighed, he looked relieved, and then unsure. “It was a little painful…”

Starlight felt a different heat, deep embarrassment. She pulled her ears back and sat up. “Oh. S-sorry,” she said.

Anon stroked her back, then tucked himself into his pants. Starlight couldn’t look at him, she felt awful. They ate their meal in silence, then left the grill without tipping.