“Oh… WOW!” he said. He saw an immense market street, the kind he hadn’t seen for years since he moved out of Chicago. Pony after pony after pony packed the premises. He saw all varieties of colors, of sizes, of ages, of dresses, of shirts, of skirts, of hats, and everything else he could ever dream of putting on a pony. Most of them looked at least vaguely like a normal domesticated pony, but around one out of four sported either a set of wings or a horn.
Raspberry glanced over rightward. A group of five mares circled around a beautiful greenish-white filly wearing a jewel filled dress of intricate folds and layers. She reminded Raspberry of a peacock. She swooshed her a very long, flowing white mane that almost seemed to sparkle. Raspberry glanced to his upper-right. A pink pony wearing nothing but a tall black top hat assembled cupcake after cupcake after cupcake on a huge rotating display. Raspberry glanced to his left. A crimson colt popped out of what looked like a barrel filled with long socks and then waved the socks at semi-shocked passerby.
Raspberry stepped forward into the crowd, and he immediately got smacked into by two small fillies running about. He took a few more steps, and then a large colt shoved him over right. Raspberry moved over to the side of the road, and then he took a wrong step on the cobblestones that tumbled him flat on the ground.
“This is why. I do not like. Large cities,” Raspberry said to himself. He checked all over to make sure that his outfit was okay. A little dirt there, a little dirt there... It was nothing he couldn’t brush off. He walked up to a very young looking and very small bluish-white filly with bushy, fluffy blue hair, who sat beside five huge crates of apples.
“Hello there!” Raspberry said.
“Hi!” she said in a very squeaky voice, “Want some apples?”
“Do I! I haven’t eaten anything since the, um, unpleasantness,” he said. Inter-universe travel I mean… I wonder if I even still have a human stomach anyways. Well, damn, I feel hungry. That’s good enough.
“So here you g—” he began, then he suddenly froze. He looked down at the wallet in his hooves. He held so many cards and bills. “Okay… so Visa is out of the question. Mastercard. Dollars. All of that. Obviously!”
He rested his head on his right hoof. Ooooooooooooooooh… crap. I guess I could barter with what I have in my backpack or maybe…
“It’s only two bits for four apples!” she said, making a big smile and pointing her left hoof in the air.
“Bits? That’s interesting,” he replied, “I get that currency could be used in the context of stored, computerized information. More memory space or something means more wealth of yours is being stored. I assume that you say ‘bit’ as a colloquial term for like gigabyte unit of space or something?”
“Um,” she said, tapping her head with her left hoof, “Bit. It’s like money. You know, like it’s… like… money. Those little shiny metal things.”
“I don’t have those,” he said. She shrugged, and then she moved her head down as if to make Bambi eyes.
Raspberry opened his mouth to say something else, but then he suddenly stopped. When his lips closed, this grimy, metallic taste filled his mouth. Then these other sensations began. They felt subtle at first, but it seemed almost as his blood slowly filled with mercury. A dull pain began to throb behind both of his eyes. He felt like steel braces popped up inside his spine. This is… what… wait, what I am thinking… Strange little whispers filled his ears.
“Well!” said Raspberry, suddenly snapping at the filly, “Look at you, and all you silly little hooved twerps.” He stood up and pointed all around the market, raising his voice slightly. “And I’m going to starve— STARVE— since you idiots are retarded enough to use a gold standard. Well, really. REALLY?”
Raspberry leaned down and looked right at the filly. “You know just how STUPID that sounds? What, when you ponies are all walking around NAKED most of the time— you use metal, clanging, bunch of pieces of things as money. They would fall right out of your pockets when you put them on your big, awkward pony bodies. What happens when you have to buy a car or something?” Raspberry asked, and he clenched his teeth.
“Uhh,” the filly muttered, looking back blankly.
“Do you carry a barrel’s worth of bits on a pack mule then? And what happens when you pay your rent? And how would you even STORE these things? You’d always be afraid of them being swiped,” he sputtered.
The filly’s face scrunched, and her eyes narrowed.
“And what, a gold standard? Really?” he asked, “You hooved gasbags are going to tie your entire macroeconomic stability to a freaking rock where— in any moment— some pony miner can come up with a big score and devalue your savings? You’re going to keep your money supply hostage? And what happens when there’s some kind of shock?”
The filly sniffed.
“You hooved idiots probably don’t know that WE, in our superior wisdom, have allowed fiat money ever since Bretton Woods ended,” he said.
“Mister,” she said in an exasperated voice, “If you want an apple so badly then you can just have one.”
He picked up a green apple from the crate beside them. Then, he tossed it to the ground. “Oh, great, the hooved twerps will be NICE to you when you’re MEAN to them,” he said, and he leaned in right to her face.
“That’s why you’ve never amounted to anything. That’s why WE’RE the ones with the particle accelerators and Martian rovers. And you ponies know it. That’s why you will never amount to anything. You’re nothing compared to us," he said. He pressed his hoof against her chest. “NOTHING!”
Her eyes teared up, and she burst out crying. Raspberry stepped back, surprised.
“No wait. I didn’t mean it. I didn’t mean it. I really didn’t mean it,” he rattled off, waving his arms around her head, “Sweetie. Honey. Please. I really don’t know what came over me. REALLY! I’ll buy your apple. I’ll trade you for it. I’ll work for you for it. I’ll pay you in… something. I promise! I really care that you said I could have it for free! It really means a lot to me!”
She un-scrunched her face and the tears stopped. Raspberry sat down. What the hell was that? It’s like it was me talking, but it wasn’t me talking. I was somehow just sitting there watching me, talking. As if it was not me. But it was me. Wasn’t it? But I didn’t heard that in the same voice— my voice. That literally sounded in my head like another person’s voice. Raspberry panted. The cowpony had said “our friends”…
Raspberry felt himself thrown down on the ground as if by some invisible force. He tried to scream, but he couldn’t. He recognized this particular feeling, though. It was very much like a full blown migraine. He saw glowing, shimmering spots all over. Every ray of sunlight felt like an arrow piercing him. The pain behind his eyes escalated to the point that it seemed like screwdrivers into his retinas. He screamed something, but he couldn’t hear his own voice anymore.
“Mister! MISTER!” the filly yelled, and she spread herself over him as he writhed on the ground. As he opened his eyes, she stared straight into them. “Praise Celestia! Mister, are you going to be okay? Do you need a doctor? Your eyes are like— sparkly!”
Raspberry suddenly came to. For a moment, everything went fuzzy and white. It was as if he was coming out of a huge Styrofoam wrapper. He opened his eyes. Everything seemed normal.
A small crowd of about eight or so horses had enveloped him. The filly held his head with a motherly cradle. Raspberry felt deeply embarrassed as he stood back up.
“Uh… I’m okay,” he announced, “It’s just another… another of those… um… I’m okay. Nothing to see here.” The ponies stayed all around him. Raspberry rubbed his eyes. Oh boy, Chip Diller had it easy…
*Boom Boom BOOM* Everypony immediately turned around towards the other side of the street. Dozens and dozens of long red socks flew through the air. They landed all over the place. Socks coated the cupcake stand. The peacock-dressed mare looked like a living clothesline. Socks were everywhere.
Raspberry glanced at his left. He glanced at his right. Yep, sock ears.
“Okaaaaaaaaaaaay,” he said, and then he pulled them off. He heard muffled screams, looked down, and then he pulled a particularly wide sock off of the young fillies’ head. She breathed in and out frantically.
Almost all of the ponies on Market Street started to congregate around a very confused and very unhappy looking crimson colt. He stood in the middle of a large, black still-smoking crater with little pieces of wood and torn up pieces of socks strung around him. Ash and charred pieces of wool smeared all over his body. The colt took a few small steps forward. Then, he leaned down and coughed up about half of a sock like a cat with a hairball.
“Are you alright?” Raspberry asked the young filly beside him.
“Two things,” she said, tapping her hoof twice, “First: That was like THE COOLEST THING EVER! THAT COULD— EVER— BE— EVER!” She hopped from hoof to hoof for a moment.
Raspberry smiled at her.
“Second: Are YOU alright?” She asked, and she tugged at the end of his suit. She made a pouty face. “You sick or something? I knew somepony as nice looking as you couldn’t be that mean. You had to have something alien coming over you and hurting something real fierce.”
“Oh, I’ll be okay as long as I’m able to get home,” he replied. Aliens. Aliens like myself to you and everypony here. You are so right sweetie. Just… so right…
“Back to Bretton Woods?” she asked, “Geez, you were screaming the name of that place when you were all like on the ground with sparkly eyes and stuff.”
“Oh, no, that’s not—” he began.
“Oh, NOW I get it,” she said, “Bretton Woods is a PONY. He’s your doctor. I’m sure that you need him and miss him. I bet he uses this exotic magic or something real, real special.”
“Yeah, sure,” he muttered. Exotic. Magic. But it’s not magic that’s the issue. Or not quite. I guess it’s like the magic is the words and letters, but the notebook they’re written into is a different thing entirely. I have magic. The cowpony has magic. Whatever thing that just came into existence has to be magical or it couldn’t use socks like nitroglycerin. Things get brought in here from another universe, and then they can use the magical powers of this world. It’s like using a Windows program on a Mac.
Raspberry observed that the commotion had about entirely died down. The ponies had gone back to their shopping, sightseeing, and so on. The crimson colt stood silently in his corner. Three colts in what looked like farmer’s outfits ran up out of nowhere and lined up beside him.
“And… NOW!” the tallest one of them quickly shouted. The three produced water buckets and doused the crimson colt.
“Thanks,” he said flatly. He paused, and then he rubbed the last bits of ash and string off of him.
Raspberry turned back over to the filly beside him. “I hope you have a good day,” he told her, and he started walking back to the middle of the street.
“Ah-HEM!” she said.
Raspberry looked back, and he saw the filly holding up the bright green apple. She rolled her eyes over to her hoof. She grunted at him.
Raspberry sauntered back over, smiling softly, and then picked up the apple. He took a huge bite. He stopped, cheeks loaded. Oh… my… God... She gazed at him, and she shook her head up and down. Raspberry swallowed.
“Have a good day mister! Hope you can get back home soon and get better soon!” she said. About three seconds later, a yellow mare in a flowing white dress stepped up by her crates. The foal spun back around to speak with the new customer.
Raspberry walked down the street a bit, and then he leaned over. He opened his mouth wide and stuck his tongue out. What the hell was that! What was that made of? Rocks? Hay? Styrofoam? I feel like I just licked the bottom of the City Metro. He dropped the rest of the apple into the drain beside him. Do they have ‘Red Delicious Apple’ style apples in pony-land? He spied what looked like a fancy French cuisine style restaurant up ahead to his left.
Wait… A dark, sinking feeling went through him. If I’m still human on the inside, then will everything pony taste like total crap to me? EVERYTHING!?! What do they eat that I eat… sugar cubes? Oates? “Dammmmmmmit,” he moaned quietly. He heard a strong rumbling from beneath his suit.
“Yeah, I know!” he said, staring at himself. He stopped still in his tracks. Oh, hell, it’s worth a shot. Raspberry waltzed over and took a seat on a chair at the farthermost table. He took a look around.
The café seemed simply beautiful. The sleek white chairs had intricate designs with the face of the sun over their backs and felt somehow soft, even silk-like, yet sturdy. Raspberry could see his hooves through the body of his table— a bright crystal lattice that probably gave diners the feeling of eating on top of diamonds. The long umbrellas atop the tables appeared a radiant light red with fluttery-looking notches all along the sides.
“May I help you, sir?” asked a dark purple colt with a black tuxedo.
“Yes, indeed,” said Raspberry, “Do you accept Vis—” He stopped midsentence, and then he buried his head into his hooves.
“Uh, sir?” the colt asked.
Raspberry sat back at attention. He asked, “Could I have some olive oil, some crackers, some ketchup, some mints, and some salt-n-pepper packets please? Anything that’s $0.00 please?”
“Sir, I’m afraid I’m not understanding wh—” the colt began.
“Look!” exclaimed Raspberry. He took out his wallet, swatted it on the table, and then pulled out his debit card. “Can you just… pretend to run it? Pretend that it’s acceptable? Pretend that you have some electronic station right over there? You can pretend that it’s rejected due to insufficient balance if you want, just pretend with me that things are normal!”
The colt took a half step back away from the table.
“Normal… that’s the thing. Pretending things are normal. That’s all I’ve been doing since I’ve gotten here is pretending,” Raspberry muttered. He looked back at his wallet. There it was— that picture at that Chicago mall of him with his two younger brothers where they sat in the stroller back to back while he held up his new Blackhawks shirt. Nine years ago… Damn, we looked so cute… And that’s… That’s, well, it. It’s all over. I’m done. I’m gone.
“I’m like this. This. This world. This place. This…. me,” he said, holding his hooves in front of his head as his tears began to well up, “I’m basically dead. Dead you understand me. Dead. Just… dead.” By then, the tears had started to really flow.
The colt looked as if he wanted to be on the other side of the world. He said, “I think you need some more time to think…”
“Thank you,” Raspberry whispered, and he rested his head flat against the table with his hooves dangling in the air. No, no, no, no… I can’t take it. I can’t stand it. I CAN’T STAND IT. He put his hooves to his head. A soft ache had started up behind his eyes again. He shut his eyes, opened them up, and then had a sudden tunnel vision.
“No, not this again!” he tried to yell. “NO!”
Yet nothing happened. He looked up. He looked down. He looked left and right. He blinked repeatedly. A white, blue-haired filly had her order taken two tables over and a family of purple ponies celebrated five tables over. The filly had on a beautiful yellow dress with a short sash and a necklace with a large red gem. She somehow looked very familiar. Otherwise, Raspberry was alone. The hustle and bustle of the street beside the café had moved far way over down by the big gate. Raspberry made a happy sigh— his feelings seemed over before they began.
Raspberry couldn’t help gazing at that white filly, even though he knew he was being rude. It almost seemed as if she set off some kind of sense inside him. He didn’t feel like he was in danger from her, and it didn’t seem either like he was falling for her— although he thought she did look incredibly pretty. It was something else. Something seemed off to him, seemed not right. Yet he didn’t feel bad or painful at all either. Huh… He looked back down at his hooves through the table. The important thing is that the… teleportation? Whatever it is, it didn’t happen this time.
“Well, then,” he said, “That’s a relie—”
*Thwack* An umbrella landed onto Raspberry’s head. An abrupt gust of wind blew everything out onto the street. It just seemed to get faster and faster. It threw Raspberry to the ground and cast about chairs, umbrellas, and tables alike. The family of purple ponies seemed to be able to hide under their table.
The pretty looking white filly watched with pure horror on her face as a bunch of her papers that she had been examining blew about. “My designs!” she shrieked. She hopped around the ground seizing clumps of papers, which immediately blew right out of her hooves again.
Raspberry wrestled the umbrella off of his head, and then he sped over to collect the wayward papers. He grabbed two bundles with his hooves. As he looked in the middle of the street, those papers were enveloped with a purple aura and started flying towards him. The wind ceased just as suddenly as it had begun. Raspberry stepped over in front of the white fillies’ table, with a bundle of papers neatly in tow floating in the air besides him.
She flung her hooves around her long, flowing blue mane to straighten it out from the wind. She put her wide-brimmed straw hat back on, and then she gazed at Raspberry. “Why thank you very much, good sir,” she said, with a somewhat regal sounding voice and a subdued smile.
Raspberry smiled, and then he made a motion with his hoof. The aura-coated papers bounced up in the air for a moment. Then, they smashed right on top of the fillies’ head, knocking her hat back off.
“Ow,” she said flatly. Raspberry went up to her, but she gently pushed him off. She put her hat back on once again. Raspberry closed his eyes and tried to concentrate hard. He opened them back and saw the papers again floating in the air in front of him.
“This time with feeling, then?” she remarked, and she extended her left hoof. She looked more amused than anything else.
Raspberry leaned himself forward, and then he nudged his head trying to concentrate. The papers bobbed up and down in the air. Then, they smashed right into Raspberry’s face.
“Ow,” he said flatly. He quickly grabbed the stack off of his face, and then— still in a neat pile, thank goodness— he placed it on top of the white fillies’ hand. She swung her head side to side for a moment, and then she nestled the papers into her purse.
“That makes us even, then,” she said softly. She put her chair back into place and then nonchalantly sat back down, “Still haven’t quite gotten the hand of magic, I see?”
“Well, I’ve only been able to do it for one day,” he replied. Her eyes grew wide, although she kept her sly expression. “It’s odd, I know. Long story. Long, and barely believable story as well.”
“It often is the longest and least believable stories that are the truest. Speaking of which,” she said, leaning back in her chair, “You know, I’ve never seen you before. This is only my third time in Coltsville, but I’d think I’d spot you walking about the main Market Street at least once sometime. Someone of your… stature?” She leaned a bit forward.
“Sure,” he replied. Why does everyone think I’m hot stuff just because I’ve got a bouffant, some bling, and a snappy expensive tuxedo? I was told there would be pimping in Coltsville AT THE FRONT GATE.
“You wouldn’t happen to know… Fancy Pants?” she asked, and she delicately swung her head to the side while dropping the name.
“I can’t say that I have met that pony,” he answered, “But I’m always on the lookout for new friends.” Hopefully, some EXTREMELY open-minded pony friends with a knack for understanding rare jewels. Well, come on then, obviously I could get right to the point with her… anyways…
“Would you like one right now?” she asked while tilting her head forward with a playful smirk. Raspberry stepped up closer. She extended her hoof. “My name’s Rarity.”
*Snap* Raspberry experienced this jolt deep inside them as they touched flesh to flesh. It didn’t hurt, but this vacuum-like, gaping sensation appeared. It seemed almost as if he was a paper target that just had a buckshot-sized hole blasted into him.
“I’m Raspberry, Raspberry Star,” he said, trying to mask everything inside. Rarity looked happy and oblivious. Fortunately, that little shot flushed out of Raspberry pretty quick, and he was back to normal.
“You know, I mentioned Fancy Pants because he really wants a tuxedo almost exactly like this,” Rarity said, caressing part of his chest. She eyed every inch of him. “It's a very old fashion that would now, of course, new again. He adores being a trendsetter. Plus, he enjoys being admirably tasteful while at the same time being—” She tapped her hooves together. “Inconspicuous, if necessary… He didn’t think of something like that huge, beautiful lapel of yours though…”
“Uh, sure,” Raspberry said meekly, wondering what on earth he should do as Rarity nudged inch by inch closer to his neck.
“Why that gem,” she went on, “It’s like nothing I’ve ever seen before. It’s like a picture perfect size and color replicate of a raspberry, and yet it’s also something more… It’s not a ruby, no. Something about the color is too bright— too light— too reflective, huh… It’s like ruby plus diamond plus glass, mixed altogether somehow…”
Raspberry gazed deep into her gigantic, inviting blue eyes. He had never seen such a beautiful creature in his entire life. He seemed slightly hypnotized, but still he felt so uncomfortable as she hovered less than an inch above her neck. Is she actually… flirting with me? Coming on this strong when we just met? She just HAS to be an escort. Or, wait, maybe she's a genuine fashion expert.
“But the little circular patterns on the strawberry are so lifelike, as well as intricate,” Rarity said, and Raspberry saw the jewel reflected in her eyes, “You can just look inside each little ‘berry’ piece and it’s the same, this deeply complex pattern of circle upon circle from down to the very center of that part of the gem… This can’t be natural. And yet it can’t be carved. Someone had to have just— naturally, I guess— been lucky enough to FIND this.”
No… no way, she doesn’t give a damn about ME. She just wants that, and she’s laying the groundwork to soften me out of it. Clever girl. But at least, thank goodness, I found someone that actually knows something and could actually help me. Raspberry shifted back a few inches.
“Uh, right, yes,” Rarity said, snapping out of her reverie. She plopped back into her chair.
“But you’re exactly the gir— the pony I need to see,” Raspberry said, “Because I need information. I need help. I need to learn some really important things really fast.”
Rarity blinked, slowly and dramatically. She rested her head on both hooves.
“I really, really shouldn’t be here. I need to get back home. But I need to get back this special jewel, this something,” he said, seeing Rarity absorb every last word intently, “Something… it’s hard to describe. But it’s not for decoration, or not just for decoration. It has these special powers… with this special, inner nature that I…” He trailed off. Aw come on, I have to sound completely insane.
“Well…” Rarity began, making what seemed to Raspberry like a duckface, “I should be honest. I’m a connoisseur of gems only. It does with the territory of keeping up with these latest fashions. And they’re beautiful on their own, besides. I… I just don’t know. I can’t help you very much if you’re asking about the history or the source of them. I'm not much of a scientist. My apologies, Raspberry.”
Raspberry’s heart sank, and he sat down on the ground. Is there a pony version of Google? A pony phone book? A freaking pony Alex Trebeck? There has to be someone with a good idea of what I’m going on about… I hope.
“Well, dear, hang on,” she said, “You’re in Coltsville after all. I would just ask around with all of the salesponies you meet. And goodness knows how many dragons are about. Or have you thought about Canterlot?”
“What?” Raspberry asked.
“Have you been to Canterlot?” she inquired. Raspberry shook his head no. “Manehatten?” He gave another no. She paused, tapping her head in deep thought. “Well now, I wouldn’t suppose you’ve ever gone through Ponyville. I would be pained to find out that you have and that I had missed you.”
“Look, I kind of… I basically…” Raspberry said, playing with his hair evasively, “I haven’t been anywhere.” I’m not from around here.” Understatement of the century… “I’m not from Equestria, really.”
Rarity chuckled. “My dear,” she said, glancing down and shaking her head, “You sound as if you just fell out of the sky.”
“Plummet,” he said. It wasn’t a fall so much as a plummet.
“Well,” she said, “I’m sure a pony of your stature from, uh, wherever it was you said you were from... I’m sure that ponies will help you immediately if you just ask around.”
“I guess,” Raspberry responded.
“Don’t you worry one bit about all of this ‘lockdown’ nonsense or all of these wild rumors— especially anything relating to Princess Celestia!” she remarked, and she made a little chuckle, “I happen to have done business with the Princess personally, and I’ve particularly seen how she overcomes her own challenges. I’m most dismayed to see so many otherwise intelligent ponies impugn her character!”
“Right,” Raspberry replied. Rarity gazed at him wordlessly, which made him feel both honored and painfully self-conscious. He had never had this kind of attention from someone so cute. Rarity also seemed to be trying to convey something with just her eyes. Raspberry felt like she either didn’t know how to put it into words or didn’t know whether or not he should hear it.
Rarity glanced over at the café door, tapping her hooves on the chair. Raspberry sank deep into thought. Celestia’s ‘character’, eh? Well, I have no great reason to put my faith into it. But what the hell, it doesn’t matter at all to me if she makes taxes too high or ‘locks down’ the economy or doesn’t leave the royal toilet seat down or whatever. If Celestia would help me, I’ll take it. If she’s a Princess burning heretics and non-pony non-believers at the stake, forget it.
Still, though, just like the cowpony pointed out— odds are the Princess wouldn’t give a damn about me and would treat me like a threat… or a lab experiment. I know EXACTLY what I’d expect Obama to do if a rainbow pegasus was flying at the White House. He’d lob a damned missile at it. DoD would inspect the remains. Rarity picked up Raspberry’s pained expression, growing worse by the second.
“Oh my dear, I hate to sound ungracious to such an otherwise warm and welcoming city, but sometimes I just have to say I’ve had enough of these things,” Rarity said, opening up her eyes and fluttering her eyelashes in a way that warmed Raspberry’s heart, “I just HAVE to tell you, since this is your first time visiting, that you’re going to encounter close-minded attitudes about everywhere in Coltsville. The educated ponies seemed to hold onto such prejudices about not just Princess Celestia but everypony else from Canterlot. Goodness knows what reason...”
“Okay,” Raspberry said flatly.
“And, between you and me, I’ve never seen a worse sense of fashion from wealthy ponies in my life,” Rarity said, gripping her bottom hooves, “For pete’s sake, plaid? With this latest trend, PLAID? Bold orange on bold blue? Elaborate hats on a functional dress? My goodness, it’s almost as if there was an explosion at a rainbow factory and everypony in Coltsville is blind to the aftermath.”
The dark purple colt with a black tuxedo walked up to their table, carrying in the air above his back a large silver plate displaying variety of colorful items. “Here you are, Miss Rarity,” he said before setting it down right in front of her.
She let out a happy squeal, and then she paused to regain her prim composure. She clasped the fork with her left hoof, and then she turned to Raspberry. She said, “I would start with, mister… Knack was it?” She lost herself in through for a moment. “Knack something. Or something Knack. I can’t recall, but anyways I would think that a musician such as yourself be in Coltsville in first place just to produce with him. He’s also particularly good ‘retrieval’, ‘finders-keepers’ sort of pony or so I hear.”
“Thanks!” said Raspberry, and he glanced back to where he sat before. I guess that’s as good a lead as anything else. And something about her just seems… pure. Like I can’t help but what to trust her. Is that something to do with that ‘harmony element’ thing? The chairs had blown away. His backpack sat atop the handle of the overturned umbrella. He began to head back over.
“Raspberry,” called Rarity, “Would you care to join me?”
“I...” Raspberry began. He stepped over to get a good look at the plate; his spirits rose for just a moment. Dark brownish-green moist mush with what seemed like little yellow wads of hay sticking through decorated one side of the plate. Then, something looking like a pile of grass clippings covered in a pungent bright orange sauce littered all over the other side.
“I’m afraid I must decline,” he said, “I have several pressing things I must take care of. I need to figure out where I will stay, where I’ll be working, and so on for the near future.”
Rarity made a polite smile and nodded her head with in understanding. She reached out her left hoof and said, “Again, it’s a real pleasure to meet you! Good luck, Raspberry!”
“Likewise of course,” he replied, and he shook her hoof again. He shuddered slightly, feeling the same kind of sensation as before with her touch. A static shock coursed through his body. Rarity didn’t seem to notice one bit. Raspberry started heading back over to where he had been sitting. He heard what seemed like this mysterious clicking sound, but he paid no attention.
He paused, and then he glanced back. He said, “Random question, but here goes. You wouldn’t happen to be one of six very close friends, from like the same town or something, would you? Part of special club of six or something? With special… abilities?”
“Uh, uh...” Rarity dropped her fork, and then she shifted nervously in her seat. She said, “Yes, I suppose. Back in… Ponyville.” She swung her head back and rolled her eyes. “But it’s not like we’re a ‘club’, heavens no…”
“Sure,” Raspberry replied, “Goodbye.”