Marshall stood up from his chair and made his way to the microwave in silence, disappointed by the direction that his short conversation with "Rarity" had gone. He had been hoping to draw out a prankster, and end her prank so he could eat and relax in peace, but — if a prankster was what she was — she appeared to be keen on drawing things out longer. Of course, it could just be that he had gone crazy, but he wasn't ready to entertain the thought of that being possible just yet.
He considered confronting her about what he thought she was doing, but he really wasn't the type to do that. Besides which, she could simply be stubborn and have her fun until she got bored, regardless of what he said or did. It wasn't like he had anything to leverage against her, after all. Sure, he could call the police, but what if they didn't hear the voice, or find whatever means was being utilized so only he could hear it? For all that he knew, that kind of scenario might land him in a mental institution, lest he dropped his case instead of insisting on what he was hearing.
Unless it was a part of her act, Rarity seemed to realize why no response was forthcoming, because she thoughtfully muttered, "No, I don't suppose that what I said would be easy to accept if you're already worried about pranksters, much less the state of your mind..."
While Marshall found her words somewhat interesting, he was more intent on eating, now that his ravioli was ready for consumption. It wasn't like he knew what to say, anyway; that, or whether he should continue to converse with her. He was really out of his depth on the matter, so it was easier to focus on something that he understood: sating his hunger with food.
Once he had his bowl of ravioli in hand, and procured a fork with which to eat it with, he opted to partake of his meal at his computer desk. It wasn't where he usually ate, because he preferred the comfort of the chairs in the living room, but sometimes something on the Internet demanded his attention. In this case, however, he didn't think that Rarity would be all that compatible with a full-length movie, or listening to music, so short and/or semi-interesting entertainment would have to suffice, and the Internet was rife with that.
After he was settled in his desk chair, with his bowl of ravioli set aside for the moment, he began to consider his list of Youtube bookmarks, trying to decide on what channel to look at for a video. He eventually decided on one of the Let's Play channels, the videos of which he often put on so he could listen to them while he did other things, since there was usually a disconnect between the topic of conversation and the action in the game that was being played. If anything interesting came up, that required visual input, he could easily go back and watch that part of the video properly whenever he could pull himself away from whatever else he had been doing.
With a video chosen, which featured Kirby's Epic Yarn, he retrieved his ravioli, leaned against the back of his chair, and began to eat while he watched it. However, not long after he had begun, did Rarity venture to speak once more, who sounded distracted as she asked, "What are those dumplings filled with? I don't recall seeing it used with ravioli before."
Marshall mulled over whether he should reply to her or not, and began to chew more slowly so he could give himself more time to come to a decision. The question made him curious, though, since the contents of his ravioli was rather common knowledge. Plus, his situation could have been worse: he could have been dealing with someone obnoxious or malicious, rather than someone asking innocuous questions.
In the end, he decided that it might not hurt to see where things went, so — after he swallowed the last of what he had been chewing — he simply said, "It's beef."
"Beef?" Rarity echoed, the cluelessness tinging her voice sounding genuine. "What is that?"
Since it was too late not to, Marshall decided to humor her, and made an effort to not sound condescending while doing so. "It's meat from a cow."
Rarity's response was noticeably belated, and the unease obvious in her voice when she next spoke. "So... You're a carnivore, then? You don't... eat horses, do you?" As an afterthought, she quickly added, "If they exist there, I mean."
After finishing off another piece of ravioli, Marshall took a few seconds to consider how he should reply to that, since he recalled her claim of being a unicorn. "Humans are omnivores, actually," he both corrected her and temporized. "And while we could eat horses, and it's likely that some of us probably do, I think most of us would rather not."
"Oh?" Rarity replied, who seemed to be caught between relief and — probably despite herself, by the sound of it — curiosity. "Why not?"
Marshall spared a moment to think about his response, since he didn't want to upset her, whether she was what she said she was or not. It could still happen if he was talking to a person who was taking their role seriously enough, and he really didn't want to deal with that. "Well, unlike humans... and unicorns, horses aren't a sapient species here — just so you know. They were really useful for things other than food, especially in regard to transportation and battle, so we're pretty fond of them."
By her tone, Rarity seemed to have mixed feelings about what he had said. "Battle? Do your horses... see battle often?"
At this point, Marshall was finding it a bit silly to be playing along, especially when the other party seemed so serious, but he was also beginning to find their exchange a little entertaining. There were worse ways to pass the time, particularly during the part of the day that he usually reserved for unwinding, so it really wasn't hurting anything, even though he still worried about the source of it. However, he also had the thought that — just maybe — he'd end up being thanked for being a good sport by the time that he was ready for bed, and that would be the end of his experience with "Rarity." It was something to hope for, at any rate.
"They used to," he replied, as he readied a piece of ravioli in front of his mouth. "I'd be really surprised if they did now, though." He took a few seconds to eat his ravioli, and continued speaking just as soon as he'd swallowed the last of it. "They've largely been replaced as a preferable means of transportation, too." He paused when a thought occurred to him, and decided to take the initiative, just to see what would happen. "Say, would you like to see what our horses look like? I mean, since you're a unicorn from another world and all that?"
Either due to being caught off guard by the question, or having something on her mind, if not both of those things, Rarity awkwardly replied with, "Oh, um... Sure."
Leaving his fork in the bowl, Marshall moved his now-free hand to the mouse and opened up a new tab in his browser. After setting Google to show images, he typed in "horse" and pressed the "enter" key to show the results. It was only then that it occurred to him to worry about what kind of images might appear, but — fortunately — the ones that could initially be seen were normal and tasteful. Well, aside from the one that showed a mask of a horse's head, which looked kind of weird.
"Hmmmm..." Rarity hummed analytically, once a picture of a horse in mid-gallop was selected for a better view. "While we don't look exactly like your horses, the similarities are certainly there. However, I can't help feeling that I've seen this kind of horse before..." When the answer to her own query eluded her, she switched gears and asked, "Anyway, do you have unicorns or pegasi in your world? I didn't see any among the pictures that I saw."
Once his mouth was emptied of ravioli, Marshall said, "Nope. Well, not outside of myths and fiction, anyway."
"Really?" Came Rarity's rhetorical response, before inquiring, "How are they depicted?"
Marshall shrugged his shoulders out of reflex, assuming — hoping, really — that the gesture could be seen, even though he didn't care much about being observed. Still, it was better than being mental. "Without looking anything up, all I can say is that the pegasus is a flying horse, and I believe that it was the only one of its kind in the original mythology. Unicorns have a horn on their head, which — I think — was thought to be a cure-all, and they are a symbol of purity."
Instead of an immediate reply, he had enough time to eat two more portions of ravioli before Rarity spoke again, who sounded quite agitated as she said, "Oh, this is so frustrating! I have so many questions, and I can barely contain myself from overwhelming you with them..."
Chuckling despite himself, Marshall quipped, "It's a bit late to worry about being imposing."
Rarity sighed before saying, "Yes, I know... And I apologize for that." Then, with a bit more vigor and determination, she continued. "Nevertheless, I'm going to try to make this work: you're the first host that's shown any promise since I began to look for one almost two months ago, and I can communicate with you. In addition to that, you seem to be a human, and a friend of mine left a lot to be desired when she spoke about them." Her tone acquired a bit of a defensive quality as she swiftly added, for her own benefit, "Not that I blame her, of course, considering the circumstances at the time, but still..."
That was a lot of information for Marshall to take in, which also inspired a lot of questions to come to mind. It wasn't that he believed what he was hearing — either directly or by suggestion — and was curious to know more, but he was thinking that he might find some way to resolve the situation if he learned more about Rarity. That was, of course, assuming that he was dealing with someone who was using a fabricated persona, rather than his own mind.
After eating a piece of ravioli at a sedate pace, which gained him some extra time to figure out what kind of inquiry to approach with, he said, "Okay, I think that owes me an explanation or two. First of all: when you say 'promise,' what do you mean?"
Apparently, Rarity had no problem filling him in on that, because she related her answer with a measure of enthusiasm. "Well, I've been in a bit of a rut as of late, inspiration-wise. I'm a fashion designer, you see, and in addition to accommodating the clientele who approach me with their ideas, I also use my own to supply my boutiques. Trouble is," her voice began to lose some of its spirit, and was slightly tinged by worry, "aside from accounting for the seasons, following the current trends and such, I haven't had many new ideas for quite a while, and it has begun to affect my reputation and business."
"Now," she went on, sounding more lively, "to make a long story short, I eventually came to the conclusion that what I needed was a change of venue, and to see new things. Unfortunately, there are too many factors keeping me close to home, and there isn't much here, or anyplace within a reasonable distance, that I'm unfamiliar with. So, I approached a friend of mine with my dilemma, and despite my limited and specialized skills, and average magic capacity, she devised a spell that would allow me to see things from afar without having to go anywhere, which I could use in my spare time."
She paused, perhaps to consider what to tell him next. "She said that it was like a fishing rod. Since it would have taken me a greater amount of time to learn a spell that would have allowed me to view things remotely, which would have been taxing to control and sustain for too long, and could prove unhealthy if used too often, she opted for something passive in nature. Not only does that mean that the results rely on the visual and audial faculties of another, but I have no control over what I catch, or where and when I do."
"And that last part is one of the main reasons for why I find you promising," she concluded.
Marshall leaned back in his chair and stared up at the ceiling, hardly registering the sound coming from his monitor's speakers as he absorbed everything that he'd been told. Rarity had not only answered the question that he had posed to her, but had provided plenty of information beyond that as well. More importantly, however, was the fact that he'd learned the method by which she supposedly knew what he was doing, and that was something that he could put to the test. The only problem lied in figuring out exactly how to go about testing her.
He decided to finish up his ravioli while he thought about it, although his silence — by that time — had eventually prompted Rarity to ask, "Are you alright? I'm aware that it might be difficult to believe me, but..."
Marshall had to admit that Rarity was a good actress, for her concern to sound so sincere. Still, he now had an idea to follow up on, so he picked up his bowl of ravioli before asking, "You basically said that you see and hear what I do, right?" Upon receiving confirmation, he added, "Then you won't mind if I check to see if that's true?"
"Oh, not at all!" Rarity readily acquiesced. "I wouldn't want you to believe yourself to be crazy, or — heaven forbid — that I'm doing this at your expense. The sooner that we get this issue sorted out, the better it will be for the both of us."
That last statement made Marshall pause, because it brought to mind something that he hadn't considered yet. It wasn't that the idea of Rarity actually being a unicorn from another world hadn't ever crossed his mind, but it was just too unbelievable to treat it as if it were even remotely possible. However, if posed hypothetically, then he supposed that such a scenario would be better than being pranked or having a mental issue.
Still, while preferable, another world with magic and unicorns couldn't possibly be real. At best, as a more realistic alternative, he hoped that Rarity was a prankster. At worst... Well, actually, he wasn't quite sure if Rarity would be all that bad as a voice in his head, aside from the fact that such a thing wouldn't be normal. She seemed nice enough so far, anyway, even though it would probably take some time to get accustomed to having a female persona in his head, if that's what she turned out to be.
There may be a way to know for sure, one way or another, so he ate the last of his ravioli while it was still warm, so he wouldn't have to worry about it getting cold while he performed his tests. Afterward, he rinsed his bowl and fork, then left them in the kitchen sink — for proper cleaning later — before returning to his bedroom. Upon sitting at his desk once more, he opened one of its drawers, so he could procure the item that he would need for his hearing test.
The item in question was a pair of headphones, of the type that cancelled ambient noise with destructive interference. He'd gotten them from his uncle the Christmas before last, back when he was still looking for an apartment. Since he had a habit of listening to music undisturbed, his uncle had figured that they would solve any problems that might arise in regard to living in an apartment, whether it came in the form of the neighbors complaining about the volume of his music, or their own racket intruding upon it.
If Rarity was communicating with him from an outside source, the headphones should be able to silence her. If they had no effect at all, well... The more effort that was put into the prank, especially when applying that effort to — as he saw himself — a completely unremarkable person, then even the most reasonable possibility would be in jeopardy of taking a back seat to one that wasn't any more welcome.
Since the results remained to be seen, though, he put aside his worries and focused on the here and now; he could worry about crossing any metaphorical bridges if any of them ever became relevant. With that in mind, he turned his attention to Rarity and said, "Okay, this is what I want to do: while you're talking to yourself, or whatever you choose to do with your voice, I'm going to try to block it out."
"Understood," came Rarity's succinct reply. "Should I begin now?"
Upon being given the go-ahead, she cleared her throat and began to sing a wordless tune. This came as a mild surprise to Marshall, but he quickly reasoned that it was probably easier than stringing together a sensible series of words to oneself without prior preparation, so he managed to stop himself from being distracted by her singing for too long and focused his mind on the headphones that he held in his hands. After turning them on, it was without ceremony that he placed them upon his head.
Not only could he still hear Rarity's singing, but the volume and quality of her voice hadn't changed one bit. After checking to make sure that the power light was lit on the headphones, even though it hadn't been that long ago since he had changed the battery, he returned them to his head and applied and removed them from his ears a few times, all while adding the video's audio — which was still playing in the unselected tab — to his scrutiny. The result was unexpected, because the headphones had a significant effect on the audio from the video while leaving Rarity's voice unaffected at the same time.
There was a reasonable explanation for it, surely, but to pull it off must have required a lot more effort than he thought he would be worth. After all, he was hearing Rarity the same whether he wore his headphones or not, which meant that going through more than just the trouble of modifying his headphones must have been done. He couldn't really imagine how anything beyond that could have been accomplished, but hopefully it wasn't the sort of thing that one heard about in certain conspiracy theories and the like.
Either way, he couldn't trust his headphones, so he turned them off and put them away. However, while canceling Rarity's voice hadn't worked, he had yet to hear anything that could drown it out, so he decided to try one more experiment with sound before he tested the visual aspect of the matter. With that in mind, he decided to find something on Youtube — since it was already being used — that would provide an adequate and consistent amount of noise, so he closed the tab with the horse pictures and looked through his bookmarks for a song.
Going down the alphabetically-arranged list, the first song that met his requirements was Blue Water Blue Sky, the version of May's stage theme from Guilty Gear X2. After turning up the volume on the monitor a bit, he clicked the bookmark and leaned closer to the speakers, since he didn't want it so loud that it attracted the unwanted attention of one of his neighbors. When the music started, it was sudden and loud enough to disrupt Rarity's singing, who came to an awkward stop instead of working through it.
He found out why when she tactfully stated, "My, that music is certainly... energetic."
With an inward sigh, Marshall paused the video and turned the volume back to its original setting, since he'd learned that something louder than Rarity wasn't going to have the usual effect. That wasn't to say that it had no effect at all, but it was hardly enough to matter, and certainly much less than what he would have expected under normal circumstances. He began to wish that he was more knowledgeable about such things, so he'd have a better idea of what he was dealing with.
He was drawn out of his thoughts when Rarity continued to speak. "If I may inquire about that video..." When he hummed in question, to spur her onward, she went on to ask, "Are the colors being displayed normal for your world? I was wondering because that appearance is normal for ours, but I haven't seen anything like it in your home."
Marshall stared at the image of May for a few seconds, now frozen in mid-sway, as the underlying meaning of her question sunk in. "Wait," he said, as he went back to Google image search and typed in "cartoon" as his criteria, "are you saying that this is normal for you?"
"Pretty much," Rarity replied, after some consideration of the search results that could be seen. Probably due to the disbelief that had been conveyed in his voice, she added, "Why? Is there a problem?"
Marshall stood up from his chair and said, "If you want me to believe that you are what you say you are? Then: yeah."
Regardless of there being yet another impossibility to contend with, though, that didn't mean that he could dismiss the other possibilities, especially after the results of his first test. Plus, he still had one more test to perform, which — in his mind — should give him an even better understanding of what he was dealing with. The idea that he was talking to a cartoon, on top of everything else, inspired him to not waste any more time, because he hoped to get to the bottom of things and put an end to whatever was going on. As much as he prided himself in his easygoing nature, his nerves were beginning to feel a bit frayed.
So, he went over to his closet, opened it up, and reached for the teddy bear that sat on the shelf. He'd had it since he was three years old, and it had somehow managed to stick around until it was the oldest thing that he owned; which was part of the reason for why he held on to it, aside from nostalgia. While he could have left it with his parents, back when he had first moved into his apartment, several years ago his teddy bear had become a bearer of an object that was of a similar nature to itself, and he couldn't bear separating the two.
On its bottom was a pocket that was sealed by a zipper, and at one time it had contained a device that would play back what was said around it. Now, it contained a keepsake of his late grandfather. Unless someone went through the trouble of rummaging through his apartment, to the extent that they would open the pocket of his teddy bear and stick their hand inside, in order to find out if something was in there or not, he didn't know what else he could use that a hidden camera — and its installers, potentially — wouldn't have already seen.
After his hand was enclosed around his keepsake, making sure that it stayed hidden from view in the process, he went to the living room to get the next item that he would need for his test. His destination was the table in front of the loveseat, where he had left his keys. On the keyring with said keys was a small, LED flashlight, which he picked up and studied thoughtfully for a moment, hardly believing that what he was about to do was going to happen.
Still, he wanted an understanding of what was going on, and a resolution, so he centered himself and addressed Rarity once more. "Alright, I'm going to cover one of my eyes with my hand, so only I can see what I'm holding in it. If you can see what I do, then you should be able to tell me what I'm looking at."
Rarity voiced her understanding and readiness, so he lowered his head, until his chin was touching his chest, and raised the hand that held his keepsake up to his eye. It was a bit tricky keeping the object in his hand hidden from view while he opened it up enough to cover his eye, but he was fairly confident that a camera wouldn't have been able to see it, especially as enshrouded by shadows as it was. Next, he turned on his LED flashlight and directed it into the space between his purlicue and thumb.
What was revealed was a penny, from nineteen fifty-seven, which was enclosed in aluminum. The enclosure was egg-shaped, except it was a bit concave at the narrow end of it, which conformed to the shape of the horseshoe being displayed on the face of the enclosure. Inscribed within the dimensions of the horseshoe, reading from bottom left to bottom right, were the words, "Keep me and never go broke." At the top of the horseshoe, on one side of the penny, was a four-leaf clover, along with a hole, and on the opposite side of the penny was another inscription, reading, "I bring good luck."
"What's this?" Rarity wondered aloud. "'Keep me and never go broke.' Is it some form of currency?"
Upon hearing that, Marshall lowered his arms and sat down on his loveseat, slouching against the back of it as he stared ahead, at nothing in particular. He still wasn't willing to believe Rarity's claims, so it was rather disturbing to think about the lengths that someone would have gone through to achieve what they did, and why they would be doing it. Suddenly, having a mental problem didn't sound so bad, even though he'd rather not have to deal with that either.
"Oh, dear..." Rarity eventually voiced, sounding concerned. "Are you alright?"
Marshall closed his eyes and released a sigh. "Not really."
There was a moment of silence before Rarity gently cajoled, "Would it really be so bad to believe me?"
Not for the first time did Marshall consider that line of thinking, only — on this occasion — he exercised more seriousness while he contemplated it. Of course, despite the impossibility of a magical, cartoon unicorn from another world being real, he would rather pretend and hope that it was true, instead of accepting the alternatives. It wasn't like he had to tell anyone about it, after all, and he'd rather not worry about being crazy, or being involved with some mysterious entity that was working from the shadows.
Besides which, Rarity seemed nice enough. Even if she turned out to be someone who was involved in some kind of operation, one that included a meticulous cataloguing of his apartment's contents, the observation of his person, and/or the use of high-tech — or even secret — technology, perhaps playing along would make things work out for the best. It was all based on speculation, of course, and that was one of the main reasons for why he wanted to dismiss it, so he could maintain his peace of mind with more pleasant thoughts.
So, in the end, he opened his eyes and resigned himself to saying, "I suppose not. It's not like I have proof of anything else either, so..."
"Good," Rarity replied, sounding pleased. "Now, I just want to reassure you that I won't be in contact with you most of the time — a few hours a day, at most. Also, as I mentioned before, I'm simply looking for something that will inspire me. None of that will be a problem, will it?"
"So long as it doesn't interfere with my job," Marshall said, the most obvious problem occurring to him first. "Oh, and I do like to set some time aside for myself every now and again, so I'd appreciate being left alone during those times as well."
"Easily done, darling," Rarity confidently avowed, before addressing a potential problem with one of his wishes. "At what hours do you work? It's just a little past noon where I live."
Marshall sat up, so he could look at the stove's digital clock. "Noon? It's nearly eleven at night, here; I work from two in the afternoon till ten at night."
Rarity made an agreeable sound in response to that. "I don't have much spare time most mornings, and I'll otherwise be asleep during that time, so that works for me. However," she began to sound a tad worried, "I'm assuming that you'll be going to bed soon, and it will be nighttime here when you wake up, so..."
Picking up on what she wanted to know, Marshall said, "Yeah, while that's generally my free time, it's also the best time for doing stuff that needs to get done. I try to pack as much of it together as I can in one day, though, so I have nothing but free time on other days."
"I suppose that will have to work," Rarity acknowledged, though nonetheless sounding relieved. Then, with mostly-checked enthusiasm, she added, "Oh, before I go, I was hoping that you could tell me more about that device that you were using — the one that you performed those searches with. What all is contained within it? Would you happen to have anything for human fashion, by any chance?"
Since he had decided to play along with this, even if only partway, Marshall couldn't help smiling impishly as he got to his feet and began to head back toward his computer. It might be amusing to see how Rarity reacted once he properly introduced her to everything that was the Internet. Well, the parts of it that one could unsee if they so desired, at any rate.