Tony felt mostly bored as hell being locked out of the house, but his back stung enough that he figured it wasn't such a bad thing that he basically had nothing to do but to lie on his belly and heal.
"This sucks, though..."
An hour later, Max comes out.
"Hey, Tony, sit up for a second, I've got some questions."
Tony raised an eyebrow but did as he was told, rising to a half-lying position and looking at his master.
"Of course, *master.*"
Max nodded, thoughtful.
"So, did you ever bother to look in the help files for your Chronivac?"
Tony stared at his master confusedly.
"The what with the who?"
Max rolls his eyes.
"Guess not. Fortunately for you, I just did. Which means I found out how you changed yourself; I worked out how to get a log of changes off you."
Tony perked up, intrigued.
"Cool, so you know -"
"That you fiddled with me and made it so I wouldn't take special pleasure in whipping you, and also that you totally removed your inhibitions."
Tony winced at Max's dry delivery.
"Look, I'm sorry for using it on you-"
Max waves a hand.
"Nah, it's cool. Makes perfect sense in context - but, as we agreed, in the *future*, don't mess with me or the rest of the family with it. That's not my question, though. So, according to the log, even though I remember always being in a world with ponyboys, you basically...created it, as an alternate reality, right?"
Tony nods, shrugging.
"I guess? I made myself a ponyboy and set it to alter reality."
Max rolls his eyes upward.
"Give me strength...You realize you could have done yourself some serious damage doing that?"
Tony glowered, sullen.
"Hey! I made you my owner, didn't I? You seem to be taking good care of me."
"That's not what I mean, bro! What I mean is, you left literally every other detail to chance. The entire way that ponyboys function in society was basically generated randomly."
Tony turned his head to the grass, feeling foolish and ashamed. He suddenly felt Max stroking his shoulder, however - petting him.
"Hey, now, don't be like that, no one likes a sullen pony. What I'm getting at is...look. This is your fantasy, so far be it from me to deny you a glorious life of ponydom. But I want to know how much of being a pony you need to, well, be a pony."
Tony looked at his brother-master...master-brother? No, Max was clearly acting more brotherly than masterful, so brother-master it is.
"What do you mean, 'how much of being a pony?' All of it!"
Max shook his head.
"You're not getting it. What I mean is, what does being a pony actually mean to you?"
Max sat on the grass, spreading his hands.
"For instance, what if *volunteer* ponyboys maintained some human rights? What if you can only belong to people you want to belong to, because you volunteered? Put another way: how much of the ponyboy is the pony and how much is the boy?"
Tony perked up.
"I...hadn't even thought of that."
"I figured not. So: what does ponyhood look like to you? Really? What defines it? What doesn't have to be part of it, and what's essential?"
Max looked at his brother expectantly. Tony thought long and hard about his answer.