Left to themselves without adult supervision, the two fillies did what any two fillies left alone to their own devices would do: they stared at one another. Chartreuse saw a filly that had trust issues, and rightfully so it seemed. Chalcedony saw very little at all: she was blind. After a few moments, Chartreuse began to look at the tiny parlour. The couch was wood-framed and upholstered in a heavy pink paisley brocade. It was the sort of furniture that somepony made when they thought they knew what a little filly might like; in other words, it was horrendous.
The bookshelf was a column of shaped crystal that flowed from ceiling to floor. It was wide in some places, narrow in others, and even had a few books. There was a little table—also made of shaped crystal—and it was just the right size and height to bang a shin against when one was in a hurry. Chartreuse just knew that there would be a shin-bang or two later, especially with a blind filly.
“Surely you must have a few friends?” Chartreuse asked, and she turned to look at Chalcedony once more.
“A colt named Sumac and a filly named Pebble,” Chalcedony replied. “We’re all assets together and we have a special club. He sends me letters written with magic infused ink so I can read them. I love reading…”—her words trailed off in a sad way, but her smile never faltered—“I just don’t get to do it very often anymore.”
“Assets?” Chartreuse took a moment to adjust her triangle shaped spectacles.
For just a brief second, Chalcedony’s smile wavered. “Maybe I’ll talk about that later.”
“So you have a few pen pals.” Chartreuse drew in a deep breath, but did not allow herself a sigh, because she didn’t want to sound bored or disinterested. Something else, anything else had to be said, but she didn’t know what it was or how to say it. No two ways around it, they had hit that awkward moment that two newly acquainted ponies have when they didn’t know what to discuss.
“Up one floor is the kitchen, the room where I am the most useless,” Chalcedony said, salvaging the silent moment. “There is a little dining area too. Up beyond that is the bedroom. At the very top is an empty room… I think. Out back, there is a bath shed and a compost toilet. We’ll freeze and die come winter.”
“Oh… goody.” The lack of indoor plumbing made Chartreuse pause and reflect upon her life choices. “So, would you like to get out and do something—”
“I’d love to get out and do something!” Chalcedony blurted out and then she began to bounce in place. “I get tired of being cooped up and I love going out! I love going out!”
“Any place that you’d like to go?” Chartreuse wondered for a moment if she was this annoying when she became an excited filly. After a bit of consideration, she decided, no, no she was not. She was a filly that could control herself, and she would never allow herself to become overexcited. With the faintest hint of a smile, she made a mental note to make sure that this statement remained true.
“There is a tearoom that I absolutely adore but going there is difficult because it is across town and in a district where the tourists generally don’t go and they know me there and treat me nice but going there is a little expensive so that’s always a factor and I haven’t been there for a long time and my last assistant quit and I’ve been kinda worried that I might not ever make it there again and I—” Chalcedony only stopped because she needed air, and she began sucking it in, great squeaky gulps of it.
“Breathing is good!” Chartreuse suggested, not that she knew this from experience.
“Ponies complain about the name, though I’m not sure why.”
“What is this place called?”
“Casual-Tea of a Name.”
Squinting, Chartreuse stared at Chalcedony, wondering if she was being put on. Did the crystal pony filly just say, ‘Casualty?’ It sure sounded like it. Her tail swished, and she couldn’t determine if she was being lead along by the nose. “Say again?”
“Well, when it opened, it was called Creativi-Tea, but ponies complained. Then it was called Tranquili-Tea, but ponies still complained. After that, it was Simplici-Tea, and for reasons I don’t understand, ponies were really upset about that one too. Then came Sinceri-Tea, Sereni-Tea, and Prosperi-Tea—”
The corner of Chartreuse’s left eye now had a fitful, frightful twitch.
“Ponies threatened Brutali-Tea if the bad names didn’t stop, so the tearoom became known as Casual-Tea of a Name.” Shaking her head from side to side, Chalcedony added, “I don’t know what the big deal is or why ponies just had to complain.”
At this moment, at this time, Chartreuse now understood why ponies ran through walls in a mad, desperate bid to escape. She understood the need, the desire, and the motivation. It took effort to even breathe and she realised that she was already facing her first friendship challenge: she had taken up residence with a pony oblivious to puns. Surely, Shining Armor was to blame for this travesty, but there was nothing she could do but grin and bear it, while clinging to her Sani-Tea.
There was a mighty, mighty cringe when it registered that she was thinking in puns.
Some ponies had natural immunity to puns, like immunity or resistance to certain types of harmful magic. Chartreuse loathed these ponies, but she also envied them. There was nothing that could be done but make the most of this situation. “Chalcedony,” she said to her brand new filly companion, “We’re going out. I need fresh air.”
The real trick was making it past the tourists that congregated around the palace. Chartreuse avoided these mobs, taking the long way around if necessary, and she kept looking back over her withers to make certain that Chalcedony was right right behind her. There was a promising looking path that lead behind the school and lead to the administrative offices: this was the path she chose. A few students and teachers were easier to deal with, and tourists weren’t allowed here for the safety of the students.
Along the way, Chartreuse encountered a hopscotch court, and she bounded through it with ease, going from four legs, to three, to two, and even hopping on just one leg during the skinny part. This caused both her hat and her glasses to go askew, and she had to fix them, while somehow also maintaining both her dignity and balance. All of this was easier said than done, and it was quite a relief to be on four hooves again.
“Do you hear that?” Chalcedony asked as she came to a sudden halt.
“Hear what?”
“Something squeaky… like a machine in need of oiling.”
“I hear nothing—”
“But I do!”
Chalcedony took off, her ears pricked and standing straight up out of the curls of her mane like two ponies whose heads stuck up out of the tall grass of the primeval prairie. Chartreuse took off after her, hooves clopping, and she hoped that she didn’t let her companion bump into anything on the first day on the job, as that would be disastrous. The blind filly travelled in a straight line, oblivious to danger.
“Trash cans!” Chartreuse tugged Chalcedony away, and then added, “Walls!”
It was then she heard it, the sound of somepony crying, but it was quite unlike any crying she had heard before. She walked parallel to the wall with her companion along the side of the administration building, her own ears perked, listening to what could only be described as a muffled, snuffling calliope mourning the inevitable heat death of the universe.
The pair of them came to a garage, a little one filled with a few two wheeled carts, and this was the place where the sound originated. Chalcedony almost tripped over a yoke on the floor, and would have, had Chartreuse not shoved her to keep her upright. The source of the sobbing came into view, and sat in the back corner, perched atop of a pile of old grain sacks.
There was a curious collection of squeaks, pops, crackles, and noise while Chartreuse stared at the uncommon creature before her that was clutching at its eyes. This was the first time she had ever seen a night terror up close, one of the Night Lady’s shrieking host was in the flesh, having himself a good cry on top of a stack of sacks. Up to this point, she hadn’t even been aware that they could cry. The supernatural pegasus ponies of the night were a mystery to her.
“I didn’t have my goggles on! It burns to look at you! I’m blind!”
Rolling her eyes, Chartreuse had heard all of this before, and with great patience, she listened to it now. At least the sobbing had stopped—for the moment anyhow—and Chalcedony’s curiousity could be satisfied.
“Skipping class, I see.” Chalcedony’s voice was somewhat teasing, but kind. Stumbling a bit, she made her way to the pile of sacks and sat down with Chartreuse’s help. “You’re really squeaky. Why?”
“Uh—”
“She’s blind,” Chartreuse said to the night terror colt.
“I can’t see much of anything right now myself.” The colt began rubbing his eyes with his foreleg while squirming on his seat. “You’re like the sun, and the sun and I don’t get along. What colour are you, anyhow? Why do you glow? Are you a crystal pony? Are you green or are you yellow?”
Standing there, Chartreuse began tapping one hoof against the garage floor.
“So, what’s with the class skipping?” Chalcedony asked in a voice that was far too chipper for the situation. “I still don’t know what you are, but you sound sad. I know how it feels to be sad, believe me, I do, which is why I smile all the time. Sometimes, it just feels good to see another pony smiling, ya know? I can’t see ponies smiling anymore, which is really sad, but even when I could see, ponies didn’t smile much, of course, that might have had something to do with Dread King Sombra at the time, but anyhow, now I smile because I know how it feels to be down in the dumps and wanting to see a smile but not finding one.”
“Wha—”
“No, you don’t get to ask a question, I asked one first. Now get to answering before I have to twist an ear, or something awful. I will! See if I won’t!” Chalcedony reached out and placed her hoof on the colt beside her. “You have strange magic that I don’t think I’ve seen before. You’re a squeaky weirdo. You better not try anything funny, colt.”
Biting down on her lower lip, Chartreuse had to chew to keep from laughing.
“I’m having a bad day—”
“That much is obvious,” Chalcedony said, interrupting while also patting the colt.
“And it feels like it just got worse—”
The crystal pony poked the strange colt beside her, causing a stream of clicks, pops, and whistles to come streaming out. “Well, if you’d just tell me about it, you’d feel better!”
“Chalcedony, why don’t you let him finish?” Chartreuse suggested. “What’s your name, colt?”
“I am Nomination—”
“Nomination?” Chalcedony appeared puzzled.
“I am my mother’s contribution to the very future of Equestria and she wanted me to join the guard—”
“Wow, there’s a mom with ego and high hopes!” Chalcedony scooted a little closer to the sniffling colt. “Wanna tell me about what’s going on? Just let it out, you’ll feel better. Stop avoiding the questions… Nom? Yes, I like Nom. You are Nom, now. Nom Nom Nom!”
“But I am Nomination—”
“Nom!”
“Nicknames are against regulations—”
“Regulations?” Chalcedony shook her head. “I’m not in the guard. I don’t have any regulations to live by.”
“But I do!” Nomination blurted out.
“You’re in the guard?”
“No!”
“Then why the regulations?” Chalcedony turned her head and gave the eerie impression that her sightless eyes were focused on the colt.
“Because that is how my parents raised me!”
“Oh.” The crystal pony filly gave a knowing nod. “You need to stop avoiding the questions and start giving some answers, Nom. I have ways of making you talk!”
“I came here to learn to be a cook, a chef,” Nomination blurted out while he shied away from the aggressive filly getting into his space. “My mother only agreed to it because she said I could cook in the guard, but she’s not happy about it! Not at all! I live in constant fear of disappointing her and she’s really stern, and today I crossed a line! A point of no return! There’s this colt I kept seeing, he’s in some of my classes, and I’m kinda into him, and I finally worked up the nerve to talk to him and I asked him if he wanted to go out sometime, and he told me that he wasn’t gay, and then I realised that I’m gay, and that’s why I kept stalking my classmate, and if my mother finds out, I think she’s gonna kill me, because I have obligations and responsibilities due to my unique nature! I don’t think I’m allowed to be gay and my entire life is ruined!”
“Oh…” Chalcedony’s ears drooped. “Oh, that’s terrible, you got dumped on your first try.”
“It feels like my life is ruined—”
“Because you got dumped?” Chalcedony scooted a little closer and wrapped her foreleg around the colt’s withers. “Wow, you’re shaggy… and… scaly? You also kinda stink.”
“I… I… no…” The colt’s remaining defenses crumbled apart and he began sobbing again.
“Aw, poor fella, getting rejected hurts.” Chalcedony leaned in a little closer and pulled Nomination to her. When he tried to squirm away, she tugged even harder. “Would you like to come and have tea with us? Maybe then you might tell me a little something about yourself.”
Chartreuse snorted, rolled her eyes, all while she tossed her head around, a dextrous display of expression. Her new companion was… something else. Still, she had a job to do, and she was determined to stick to it. Chalcedony was… a little dense, but she was also a good pony, and good ponies were worth being patient with.
“Nom, why don’t you come with Chartreuse and I? We’re going out for tea. If you’re going to skip class, you might as well do it in style. I think a hot cuppa would do you good, and if we run into any hot looking colts, do you think that maybe, just maybe, you could describe them to me?”
“Chalcedony!” Chartreuse snapped while her head swiveled around to focus on her friend.
“I’m blind, but I still have needs!” Chalcedony snapped right back. “Colts freak out if I run up and start touching them all over so I can figure out what they look like.”
Shaking her head, Chartreuse couldn’t figure out what the big deal was about colts and how they looked. “Let’s go before somepony comes looking for Nom—”
“Nomination,” the colt said, correcting Chartreuse. “Nicknames are against regulations.”
Squeaking, snuffling, Nomination pulled his goggles up from his neck and slipped them over his eyes. He then wiped his nose, snorted a bit, and then rubbed his shiny, snot-streaked foreleg against the grain sacks he was sitting on. This was the exact reason why colts were disgusting, and Chartreuse turned away, her gorge rising.
“Is somepony gonna tell me why Nom is kinda scaly and smells like rotten eggs?”