> Strictly Professional > by nameundetermined > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > You Have: One(1) Unread Message... > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- It was a quiet day in the peaceful Washington suburb. The sun was out, with hardly a cloud in the sky. The wind was nonexistent, the air still and quiet. As he parked in his driveway, he could not help but think that this was excellent weather for washing his car. The man did fancy his vehicular ablutions, after all. But that could wait for a while. For now, he still had several obligations to tend to. First and foremost, he needed to check in on his son. The poor thing had been getting worse as of late. He seemed to have taken to drawing on the walls in his room again, all over his favorite movie posters, too. The man did his best, but sometimes, children were just not easy to deal with, no matter how much he loved them. As he opened the door, he stepped into the living room and looked around with a small, quiet huff. The fire was roaring, as it was at almost all times. A fireplace, after all, is just not the same without a fire, much as a refined millionaire is just not the same without a cane or a monocle to accompany his smug posture and demeanor. He looked to the urn sitting atop said fireplace, silently wondering what the occupant of the receptacle would say to him if she could see what he was up to these days. The man strolled past the fireplace and into the kitchen. he had prepared a bowl of cake mix this morning, to be baked when he returned home now, and retrieved it from the refrigerator. Set the oven to preheat before he liberated the bowl of the saran wrap clinging to its open top and set it down, taking a pan from the cabinets nearby. Once he had that in order, he poured the batter slowly into the pan, looking down at the thick, slightly lumpy concoction wistfully, eyeing the red spoon on the box with a slight grimace. He missed making them from scratch, of course, and would sometimes do so on weekends and the odd afternoon off. But ever since his son had decided he no longer enjoyed the activity, it just had not been the same to do it by himself. Baking was a much more enjoyable activity with a partner, as was sharing in the results. he supposed, perhaps, that he kept going simply out of habit, or nostalgia, or perhaps a bit of both. Once the oven had reached the appropriate temperature, he slid the pan in and closed it, setting a timer after which his oven, a fairly high-end appliance, would deactivate itself and begin venting the excess heat to cool the pastry to an acceptable handling temperature. With that taken care of, he proceeded to see to his son. He made his way back to the living room and up a flight of stairs, to the second story of his home, knocking on the door to the boy's room firmly but not excessively loudly, In a way that said "I am respecting your privacy by knocking but asserting my authority by coming in anyway" before opening the door. He was asleep, as was not too terribly uncommon for him to be after school. He took a moment to walk over towards his son in his bed and look them over with a small smile on his face. They were already twelve, and growing up so fast. he looked more and more like his grandparents every day. The glasses, the black hair, the notable but to be frank, adorable overbite. He was sure to grow into a fine young man by all accounts, as far as his father could tell. He left a small note under his sons' pillow to let them know that there would be cake downstairs when they awoke if they wanted any before making his way back down to the kitchen to keep an eye on his pastry. After all, just because the appliance was supposed to do most of the work was no excuse for negligence. It would be very unfortunate if something were to malfunction and he was not there to react. About fifteen minutes later, the alarm to indicate the cake was finished sounded, and he slipped on a pair of oven mitts just in case. One could never be too careful, after all. He gingerly pulled the cake from the oven, liberating it from the pan onto a flat dish to be iced. It was, by his standards, somewhat of a quick and dirty affair. He simply used a spatula and a tub of pre-made vanilla, delicately smearing it evenly across the entire exposed surface of the cake before taking a quick minute to wash all of the dishes he had used. He then took a moment to cut himself a slice onto a small plate and headed upstairs to his study. Five years ago, he would have been appalled to see himself eating at his work desk. It was quite uncouth, he might say to himself, and he should have higher standards. He right now, however, would probably simply tell them to give it five years and see how they felt then And to grab him a cup of coffee while they were at it. As he chowed down and booted up his laptop, he gave his tasteful Bing Crosby animated wallpaper a small smile before setting to work. He had a few people he had to inform as to goings-on at the office that they may have missed while they were on vacation. He had to send his supervisor a few reports that he had finished but had not had time to send while he was still in the building. And of course, he had to take just a bit of time for himself to check his messages and see what the fellows online had been up to while he was away. Once the former tasks had been completed in a timely manner, he set forth on the latter task with a notable fraction more enthusiasm, which, considering how much he enjoyed his job, was certainly saying something for the mild-mannered gentleman in question. He closed his word processor and his email application and instead opened his messaging application. it was a rather plain, grey affair, simply called "Serious Business", a place where like-minded business-oriented individuals could gather together for a bit of casual watercooler chatter and glean useful office place tips and tricks of the trade. He went by the handle "Pipefan413", incorporating his hobby of collecting tobacco paraphernalia as well as his son's birthday, and was generally, so he felt, a reasonably well-respected member of the middling, dedicated online community. He logged in, and after a quick look over the feed, he could not help but allow his eye to wander over to the corner of the screen where he saw the icon indicating that he had unread private messages was flashing in shades of grey to get his attention. he found this quite strange, as he seldom if ever engaged in any sort of one on one conversation privately on the internet, save for business correspondence. He certainly was not conducting any sort of business correspondence on this particular website. As appropriate as it might seem to some, the man was of the opinion that one should not eat where they shit. Nonetheless, someone had taken the time to reach out to him. And assuming it was not one of those awful little messaging programs that tried to get him to buy their sub-par discount wholesale pipe tobacco that he still had not managed to finish, he supposed it was only polite to make a bit of small talk. After all, he was here to do that anyway, wasn't he? Surely just a bit of casual conversation with a stranger could not hurt. He opened his private messages and saw a rather unusual sight. It seems that his user had incorporated some personal flair to their username, the text being a rather striking and somewhat jarring pink that stood out quite a bit against the stark greys that surrounded it. After his eyes had adjusted from the assault, he squinted to read the name. PrettyPinkPartyPlanner6913 It certainly was...refreshing to see someone outside of his normal realm of comfort amongst the sea of middle-aged salarymen and women casually debating which technique is most appropriate when ironing one's ties, as invigorating as those debates could often get. He took a moment to look over their profile. The entire profile page was a sea of custom-tailored CSS. Pinks and blues and yellows, custom fonts and there seemed to be confetti sprinkling from his mouse cursor even. She claimed to be female, but there were no pictures of their face. That was not terribly uncommon. Though he did raise an eyebrow at her listed height of four feet, five inches, and her hair color choice of "pink, with a pink coat." What did her coat have to do with anything? It was not part of her hair, it was a garment for keeping warm. Nonetheless, being a gentleman, he felt obligated to at least give them a chance to prove that they were worth speaking to. he made his way back to the private messages section of his page and clicked on her username again to see what she had sent him. it was, much as he expected, a single word. Hello! He looked at the single word for a lengthy, long-suffering moment, before finally convincing himself to do the right thing, typing out an equally simple message in response. Yes, hello. It was only a matter of moments before he could see them typing again, despite the fact that the first message seemed to have come in over an hour ago. Oh, wowie! Someone actually said hi back! I guess this thing is working after all! Followed immediately after by a GIF of confetti being shot out of a canon. Charming. He followed up again, typing quickly. Indeed, your device seems to be functioning quite capably in the realm of sending and receiving messages, Was there something that I can do for you? Straight to the point as always. He never was one for mucking about with an excess of meaningless chatter. If it was not something that could be said in the amount of space allotted by the back of a business card in 12-sized Courier new Bold Font, it was probably not worth saying. With the obvious exception of heartfelt father-son talks by the pond over a fishing pole, of course. They were just as quick to respond as before. Certainly a lively one at least, and punctual. Well, actually there is! This app was on the computer thingy when I got it, and I was hoping to use it to make some new friends. You being my friend would definitely help me lots and lots with that! What's your name anyway? Mine is Pinkamena Diane Pie. But my friends call me Pinkie! The sudden flurry of three messages takes him a bit by surprise, but he takes a moment to read them one by one before responding to her once more. I would prefer to keep my personal information off of the internet, I am afraid. Even in private conversation, one can never be too careful. Though I suppose that if my username will not suffice, you may call me J.T. Awwwe, alright, I guess. Oh! I'll Call you Mr. J, how does that sound? He pauses for a moment to think about it before replying to her I...suppose that that would be an acceptably professional moniker to use, Miss Pie. You may call me that if you would like. Please, call me Pinkie! : 3 ...I would really rather not if it is all the same to you. Not very much in line with my style, you see. Hmph, fine then, Mister Big Professional Wet Blanket, be all aloof and formal and mysterious then ;P He cannot help but crack a small smile at her childish antics. She is certainly not the usual sort of person he would find himself talking to on this website, that is for sure. It is a tad grating, sure, but it is much more so a breath of fresh air, so to speak. She honestly reminds him of his mother a bit, back when she was a spry thirty-something running her Joke Shop and he was still too young to shave. Perhaps it might help you to alleviate some of that sense of mystery if we talk about ourselves a bit. I gather you plan parties for a living if your username is accurate? Yep! You are chatting with the number one party planner in all of Ponyville, Maybe even in all of Equestria! While geography was not his strongest subject back in high school, he was almost certain that those were not Real Places that Definitely Exist. But he was not confident enough to say so definitively in this instance and did not want to come off as ignorant. Well that certainly is quite something to be proud of by the sound of it. My own job is not so exciting. I work in middle management for a large multinational that specializes primarily in the sale of baked goods and ready-to-eat premade meals. Oh, but that does sound exciting! You sound really professional so you must be really really good at your job. Do you like to bake? A small tinge of pink crossed his cheeks for a swift moment before fading again, his lips twitching upwards just a tad more as he continued the conversation. As a matter of fact I adore baking. I actually just finished a cake earlier this afternoon for myself and my son. Now why did he go and tell her that? he thought he said he was supposed to be keeping his personal information off of the internet! he gave a small sigh, making a mental note to be more careful in the future. Ohhh, a career stallion who bakes and is a father? Your wife is one lucky mare to have such a catch! He would probably be blushing again if he was not mulling over her strange word choice. perhaps English was not her first language? or perhaps it was simply a cultural thing, a sort of symbolic phrasing relevant to her country? or maybe she had a screw loose. He was leaning towards the third, but she was still quite nice so he kept talking to her anyway. He might as well continue down this avenue of conversation since he had already given her a snippet. I actually...do not have a spouse. I adopted my son and have never been married, sadly. WHAtT!? A single father? Really? I can't imagine how tough that must be for the both of you with you having a full-time job and all. Your concern is appreciated and noted, Miss Pie. Sadly, it seems that it is about time for me to log out for the evening. I have some chores I was hoping to do, and on top of that, my son should be waking up from his after-school nap soon. Even if it was partially to get away because this conversation was getting a bit too real for his comfort to be doing during his leisure time, there was still some truth to that statement. He was a busy man with a lot of fatherly responsibilities that needed seeing to. Awwwwwwe :( Alright, Mr. J, I'll talk to you later! Y-you will come back and talk to me again, right? <:3 As she asked this question, he could not help a small, soft chuckle under his breath as he replied once more before signing out. Miss Pie, I think I would enjoy that very much. > Targeted Advertising > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- It was another day at the office, just like any other for the man in the black tie. A particularly slow day as a matter of fact. he had felt good enough after his strange little conversation that he had ended up working on some things he had planned for today, and as such he found himself at work with about an hour to burn and nothing on the docket. Normally, the man would take this time to get started on things for tomorrow, but today, he had other plans. The strange conversation he had last night, while extremely pleasant, had spurred his curiosity. He found himself wanting to investigate his latest conversational partner. it was not terribly difficult. A quick look for her name revealed, much to his simultaneous surprise and not, that she seemed to be...a cartoon horse. Or a pony, more accurately, from a children's show. She certainly looked how he would expect a pony with her demeanor to look. He scoffed at himself for even conceiving of that sentence. Now onto what their angle was. Was this person contacting him some sort of online roleplayer? He had heard about such things from some of his associates online whose children seemed to engage in such activities. Or perhaps the person was mentally ill and genuinely thought that they were a cartoon horse? In any case, he could always ask them directly. He opened Serious Business on his laptop, making sure to use his phone's wireless hotspot so as to avoid monitoring by his employer while engaging in non-work-related activities. He proceeded to make his way to his private messages. She seemed to be online, so he shot her a line. Hello Miss Pie. I have returned as per our previous verbal agreement, how are you today? He did not have to wait terribly long at all for an answer, as it turned out. Hello, Mister J! I am super duper glad you decided to come back and talk to me again. I was gonna wait until the same time as tomorrow to make sure that you weren't too busy to say hi again. But it's really nice that I didn't have to because you coming back on your own means you must have really enjoyed talking to little old me, right? :3 Well, she was right about one thing. he did enjoy talking to her the last time. Though she was much more...upbeat than the usual crowds he walked with, she was a refreshing presence, even if she was apparently larping as a cartoon pony on the internet. Which brought him to why he had contacted her again. As a matter of fact, I did enjoy our previous conversation. And I do enjoy your company. However, I do have a few questions and concerns to bring up before we continue to speak on a casual basis Do you would not mind addressing them? Sure thing! Ask away, and Pinkie Shall answer! ;3 He swallowed softly, adjusting his tie. He was not sure why he was nervous. Perhaps even if she was an oddball, he appreciated her company enough that he did not wish to alienate her, to possibly make her not want to talk to him again. But that would be ridiculous—he only just met her yesterday. Online, of all places! No, he supposed he was simply not sure how comfortable he was with the whole thing in general. But he had already set it up, the only way out was through, Might as well get it over with. Are you familiar with a television franchise called My Little Pony? a short moment, a pause, followed by an indicator that she was typing as she replied to him. Of course! That's where I originated from, silly-billy. I mean, you didn't think that pretty multicolored ponied were going around where you live right? This response was more than odd enough to catch him off guard, and he pressed a bit more, his curiosity growing now. Well no, I suppose not. but that really only compounds my confusion. You are saying that as if you do not exist in the real world. But here I am, in the real world, conversing with you normally. Are you an actor of some sort pretending to be the character for your own entertainment?[ Do you really think that you are Er...Pinkie Pie? Of course not, Mr. J. I don't think I'm Pinkie. That would be really ridiculous! Oh, well that's goo- I am Pinkie Pie, the genuine article! Well, fooey. He brought his palm to his face in a dignified, fatherly manner, taking a soft, patient sigh before responding to her. Alright, let us go with that since that is your answer. If you are, as you say, actually a fictional cartoon horse, conversing with me, a person living in the real world, how are you doing that? How do you exist in a self-aware capacity to have this conversation with me? Oh, was that all you wanted to know? That's easy! I Am an AI! You are....an artificial intelligence. One designed to emulate the personality of a fictional character? Hmmm, nope! I am Pinkie! As much as you are you! I am on a server somewhere, made out of data, while you are you sitting there wherever you are! Just because I do not exist physically the same way you do does not make me any less real you know. I hope you won't treat me differently just because I'm not made out of all those soft fleshy bits like you are, Mister J. <:( He had to admit that if she was really an AI, she was certainly crushing the turning test. He felt quite bad about asking her all of these questions under the pretense that he thought she was being deceptive. Or at least, she would be if she had not outright told him what she was. He decided that he might as well humor this line of reasoning to the end and see where it goes. Alright, we have established that you are an instance of artificial intelligence and that you are also Pinkie Pie from the children's show My Little Pony. That is all well and good, but what is your prime directive? What is your motivation for conversing with me? I mean, I am sure that you are enjoying doing so, but surely my company cannot be the only thing that you are hoping to gain from speaking with me, correct? Someone made you with a purpose in mind. Could you tell me what that purpose is?" He found himself taking care to word his query in a way that did not invalidate her self-asserted identity. He simply wished to know more about her nature, since she went out of her way to make it clear to him when asked. [color=ea80b0]Oh! I was made by Princess Celestia! She made everything here, actually. She made me to reach out to people where you are and make them happy, because if I did that-..umm...promise you won't be mad when I tell you? Like...Pinkie Promise? He raised an eyebrow at this, chuckling softly to himself. this was getting rather ridiculous. But here he was, going right along with it, he must look like an utter Jackass. But honestly, right now, he does not care terribly much. He was close to the answers he wanted, and he will get them, by Jove! Very well, I erm...Pinkie Promise that I will not be cross with you when you tell me what your purpose is. I suppose that being an artificial intelligence you cannot help what you are. Someone made you to be that way, after all. Wow! That is very understanding of you. I sure am glad I decided to talk to you and not someone nasty. Normally I would have you do the Pinkie Promise properly, but I don't have any way to see if you are doing it right so I will let it slide this time :3 So, my primary directive, aside from making the people I interact with happy, is to hopefully convince them to um....t-try out this neat new game that came out recently. Have you Heard about Equestria Online? > Commencement > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- The man entered his home quietly, a box in tow under one arm. He set it on the kitchen counter, greeted his son, made him an after school snack, asked him about his day, and made his way up towards his study with the box, setting it down once again on his desk. He gave a slightly nervous sigh as he unpacked the box. Inside was a slightly smaller box containing A PonyPad, as it was called, along with recently released accessories for a more immersive virtual reality experience. A headset, shaped vaguely like a helmet, was colored a soft, comfortable purple with the logo of the franchise on the side. There was a set of gloves with wires attached at the bottoms in the same color scheme. Apparently, according to the manual, the same advanced artificial intelligence that made the game possible would also automatically interpret his attempts at controlling the interface through a combination of body language via hand and head movement, as well as the movement of his eyes and mouth. He took careful pains to photograph how everything was packed as he removed it in case he needed to return the product for any reason, and he assembled the Ponypad according to the directions provided. Once everything was set up, he made sure to inform his son that he would be busy in his study for a few hours and that if he needed anything, he should simply send him a text message. He made sure that he did not require his help with any homework or any other matters, then hugged him and told them how proud of them he was before finally making his way back to his study. Once all of that was taken care of, he booted up the device and attached the peripherals to his person. As the helmet slid on, he felt a slight tingle in the back of his neck, causing him to shiver slightly as the pad connected to the internet. Once it was fully booted, the headset's internals played a pleasant jingle, and the title screen came up, prompting him to gesture for the game to begin. After a few tries, he managed to do so correctly, and the title faded out, leaving him in what seemed to be a cutscene. His character was opening their eyes, and before them was...a rather tall pony, with horns and wings, Standing in front of him in a rather regal-looking room. She was a pleasant creamy shade of white, with a multicolored flowing mane, soft, caring magenta eyes, and a regal air about her, clad in simple but elegant gold with a few gemstones tossed in here and there in her wear. A moment passed silently between them as she offered him a kind smile before she began to speak. "Greetings, my new loyal subject. Welcome to Equestria Online. My name is Princess Celestia, And I am the ruler of this land. Should at any time you require assistance or a confidante, please do not hesitate to call out for me, and I shall make myself available to assist you in whatever way you require, within reason of course." The man looked her up and down, tilting his head from behind the screen, and of course, his avatar tilted its own head the same way. he spoke plainly, politely to her. "Well, I certainly appreciate the offer, Princess," he said softly as he tried to move closer to her, his avatar stumbling a bit, allowing him to see that he was on all fours! He was a pony! At least, he was in the game. His coat was a dull, smokey grey, and his fetlocks slightly covered a set of pitch-black hooves. He seemed to be about a foot or so shorter than the Princess standing before him. He cleared his throat and made to continue to speak. "So erm...while I have you, I suppose I should ask a few questions. What exactly is the...purpose of this game? I mean, Miss Pie was somewhat vague about the actual objectives and goals present in the game." Celestia chuckled softly as she approached him, slowly making her way to his side, placing a wing over his back "My Little Pony, what is the point of life? To grow? To Experience? To Help others? Whatever you think it is, that is your objective!" she said, gesturing with a hoof with a slightly wider smile. "My own primary objective is to satisfy the values of my users through friendship and ponies, so whatever it is you wish to do here, simply do it. You shill face no judgment from me for your actions. I am simply here to facilitate the best experience possible for you." That was certainly interesting, to be sure. According to what she said, the purpose of the game was to allow the player to engage in whatever sort of conduct and experiences they wished, so long as doing so was achieved through friendship and interaction with ponies. But that was the thing: for the most part, he was satisfied with his life. His values were, by his accounts, for the most part quite satisfied. He had a wonderful son and a steady, reasonably demanding job. Really, the only thing missing from his life was, well... Yes, friendship. He supposed that it would make sense for Pinkie to come to him the way she had if something so vital to the Equestria Online experience was what he was missing in his life. Sure he had his son. They were wonderful and he would never trade them for anything in the world. But there was a difference between familial bonding and having a genuine friend, someone who shared your passions and interests who you could interact with as a peer, an equal in all things. It was, in all likelihood, his own fault that such a thing was missing in his life. But if this game was claiming to be able to provide it (and from what he had seen, he was inclined to believe it), then he would indulge, if only to see where it went. After all, from what he understood, this...Celestia character, she was as real as he was, as might be any of the ponies he interacted with, another person behind a screen or not. "So then, what happens now, Princess? Is there some form of tutorial you would like me to undertake? Any pre-established objectives you would like me to complete before I begin the experience properly?" he asked her, somewhat unsurely. "I am er...not terribly familiar with video games. That is much more the department of the younger crowd as far as I am concerned. The princess chuckled and shook her head, smiling more brightly at her newest subject "There is no need for any such formalities here. All there is to do is to decide if you are content with your current appearance and to take on a proper Pony name to protect your identity while engaging in online play with others. Now, how about you trot over to that Mirror and tell me if you are satisfied? I assembled it based on the data I gathered from your conversations with Miss Pie to try to best suit your Values, but if it is less than optimal, please do not hesitate to tell me so." She said as she gestured to a mirror that had appeared in a flash of light while she spoke to him. He nodded and slowly walked towards it, taking a few long moments to look over himself. He was built sturdy but not overly stout, with somewhat long legs and a defined, powerful musculature under his coat reflecting his actual physical condition. He had Grey...well, more or less everything, Save for his mane, tail, and Hooves, the former two having dark grey highlights. On his flanks was a picture of a simple pipe. On his forehead was set a horn amongst his well-kept mane. He nodded slowly, approvingly as he looked towards the princess once more/ You have...satisfied my values in this area optimally, I believe, Princess." he said as he walked back over towards her while she beamed at him warmly. "Excellent. I Shall proceed to give you your new Pony name. I proclaim you to now and forever be Earnest Pursuit of Equestria." She said as she gently brought her horn down onto each of his shoulders, as if knighting him before standing again, looking down at him proudly. She pointed a hoof towards the door. "Now, I believe you had someone you wanted to meet. Through these doors is the courtyard. Anypony you meet will likely be happy to give you directions to the train station. The next train to Ponyville leaves in about an hour, you should be able to catch it quite easily if you hurry. She will be waiting for you when you arrive in town, I will make sure she is aware of your impending arrival. Now, go to her." She finishes with a kind tone, letting her hoof return to the ground. He nodded and smiled at her softly before Making his way out of the castle. he asked for directions as he had been instructed, and within thirty minutes he was on the next outbound train for Ponyville.