//------------------------------// // ■▲ The First Conversation ▲■ // Story: Table for Two // by KitsuneRisu //------------------------------// Epilogue A knock. A step. An entry. A voice. “You wanted to see me, Red?” “Yes. Come in, Chartreuse.” The door opened to Red’s office, a white square cut out of the air, each surface equally shiny, like an azure-tinted marble buffed to a mirror-sheen. As the stallion pulled in, he shaded his gaze; it was always far too bright in there. The Seven were beings of light in pony shape, Red, one of them, being a vessel of swirling beams of crimson, scarlet, vermilion and everything else in between, and if one looked deep enough, one could see the universe itself, swirling around in her core. It was unique to her, and always made speaking with her visually unpleasant to a degree. Red herself sat behind her desk – a floating white slab of the same material, covered with papers and other gadgets that she used to perform her duties. Stacks of paper continuously appeared wherever you looked, but equally fast did they shuffle down into nothing as problems were solved and new problems appeared. They continued to noiselessly pile up and break down even as she looked up from the sheets she was reading to give her employee some attention. “Ma’am.” “I’ve read your report. And I’ve read your request,” she said, pulling her glasses off her face. They were horn-rimmed, black framed ones that now swung on a silver chain around her neck. When she spoke, her stars swirled around and bounced off each other like a flurrying mist. “And I would like to ask you why you think this is a good idea.” “Have I not performed adequately?” “No, that’s not relevant,” the pony called Red snapped, in as much as a universe in a jar could. “I’m asking why you want to do this.” She threw the sheets of paper across her desk, the other piles of paper gently moving out of the way in fine consideration. It came to rest upside down in front of Chartreuse. The top read Requisition for the Amendment of Present and Past Reality (Real Estate). Chartreuse did not need to read the rest. “I believe I have written my reasons in the repo–” “No, you haven’t,” Red interrupted. “It’s not good enough. I want to know why you want to inject a cafe into… where ever!” Red tapped the report, a small explosion of light escaping the tip of her hoof every time it came in contact with the table. “I believe it is necessary for the growth and prosperity of the area.” Chartreuse said. “No you don’t. You’re a bad liar. I’ve known you ever since you joined us. And you, sir, are lying.” “I… believe it is necessary for–” “I am giving you to the count of ten to get to the point or else I am going to put this request form somewhere you don’t want. Do you know where that is?” “Yes, ma’am. I g–” “Do you know?” “I know, ma’a–” “Where I’m talking about?” “I know.” “Eight.” Red counted. “Nine.” “It’s for a girl,” Chartreuse said. If Red had any facial features, it would have expressed things. “Really.” She said. “Yes. The… subject of the report.” “A girl? That girl?” Red turned the report back, flipping pages over until she reached a photo. “Huh. Ugly creature, ain’t she?” “Yes, ma’am. But all the same.” Red lowered the report down. “Tell me the story.” “She exhibited a… pattern of behaviour that I have not seen before, and one that I have… remembered myself having from times past. Before I… died. I do not wish for her to suffer through dis-ease.” “Have you run a scan on her?” “She does not carry a seed, ma’am, nor is she visioned.” “Then… I don’t see the need to do this.” “I… wish for her to be comfortable. That is all.” “Huh.” Red leaned back in her chair, considering the circumstance. “I thought you didn’t have those feelings.” “I was not aware I had feelings either.” “But… you do feel something?” “I am… not sure.” “And yet, you want to do this for a girl and you don’t really know why.” “She was sad to have to leave. She wanted the memories of The Cafe. I have decided that in lieu of her old memories, I could give her the chance to make new ones.” “Obviously nothing to do with the time you spent with her, was it?” “That would be unprofessional, ma’am.” Red nodded, light scattering around the room, sending the echoes of shadows of reflections dusting all over. “You do understand the responsibility needed, don’t you?” “Yes, ma’am. I have writt–” “No. I don’t want it from the report. I want it from you. You tell me now; do you know what’s involved and what you’re getting into?” “Yes, ma’am. I have already traced every change to the end of their potential lines and found that there will be only small variances from the prime universe. Nothing that will not eventually reconcile. For everything else that has not, I will personally see to myself.” “And what about the main problem?” “Yes, ma’am. I have seen how placing the building there in time will affect the hotel. It will cause a rift.” “And I trust that you will take care of it?” “I… already have, ma’am.” The stallion’s eyes trailed to the report. Red’s head tilted down in kind. It flicked back up, the stars within falling upon Chartreuse. “You want to be the source?” “The source has to be something. It might as well be of my own device. I am prepared for that.” “You sure?” “I am prepared for that.” “All those hours in self-reconfiguration?” “I am prepared for that.” “You really like her, huh?” “I am unable to like her.” “Yeah, yeah. Keep telling yourself that.” The being called Red picked up the sheet of paper again, staring at the photo of Scootaloo. “Weird lookin’ pony.” She slapped it down soon after, and both the report and the request melted into the table. “Fine!” she declared. “It’s your existence. You just make sure that everything goes smoothly, you hear?” “Yes, ma’am. Thank you, ma’am.” “And listen. This is a personal favour. You got it? Don’t be thinking that I do this often, so don’t you dare ask again. Messing with the universe stream is annoying and complicated. And I hate it.” “Yes, ma’am. Thank you, ma’am.” “Now get out of here. And you owe me one.” Red glowered, in her own special way, in which case the stars in her head glowed a bit brighter. With a click of his heels, Chartreuse turned and left, leaving Red alone with her endless piles of paper. Red shook her head, reaching down to the left. Paper stacks scurried out of the way, gently nudging a small white mug into her grasp. She lifted the cup of coffee to the general vicinity of her head, where a sip caused a swirl of brown to get pulled, spiraling, along the vast expanse of her body. It travelled along like a comet, finally disappearing at the very center of her galaxy. “Maybe you’ll be fixed yet,” she muttered, setting the cup down to get back to work. To Be Continued, Sometime, Somewhere