Holiday Conny


                                            >You watch listlessly as a pair of unicorn mares mutter among themselves as they put up Christmas decorations in the hall outside your room.

                                            >You'd probably still be asleep if it wasn't for all the fuss one of them was making.

                                            >You lift up your eggnog and take a sip as you watch the scene unfold from your doorway.

                                            >The pale yellow one with a limp plastic mane scoffs as she floats a bundle of tinsel between her and her partner, who quietly pulls some free as she continues to ramble.

                                            >"This is absurd! Have you *see* the price of tinsel these days? Utterly outrageous... Why, back in my day all we had to do was trot on over to the dollar store and *wham*! Tinsel for days! Now we have to *order* it? Online? For *those* prices?! Utterly absurd..."

                                            >You suppose she's a little grouchy.

                                            >The mare next to her seems to be in a much better mood, as she was dressed to the nines in gaudy festive flair and wore a rather content smile on her face as she effortlessly multitasks her way through an entire section of the hall as her friend rants.

                                            >As she finishes tacking a wreath above an office door down the way, she lets out a bubbly giggle.

                                            >"Lemon honey, I know you're not very happy about not getting picked as one of Santa's reindeer but you don't have to take it out on the tinsel!"

                                            >The holly jolly mare affixes a bit of mistletoe above the entrance to the main hall with a little 'aha!'.

                                            >"And personally... I find this particular method of acquisition quite time friendly! No hustling or bustling, just a few swooshes and clicks and it's at your door!"

                                            >Lemon huffs, her embarrassment clear as day on her face. "I am *not* cut up over not getting picked! I'm sure Mrs. A had a perfectly logical reason behind it, even if I *am* an obvious shoe-in for Dasher..."

                                            >Lemon turns to her companion, a hopeful expression on her face. "Right, Piney?"

                                            >Piney lets out a drawn out 'hmm...' as she continues to fluff up a wreath with her forehooves.

                                            >"I think..." She pauses to stifle a laugh. "I think you're more of a Dancer!"

                                            >Lemon looks on in horror as Piney sways her hips a little as she hums the melody of a song you're unfamiliar with.

                                            >Lemon's face reddens. "I- I know exactly what you're referencing! Frankly, I'd prefer you don't bring it up in front of others..."

                                            >You take another swig of eggnog as you try to act inconspicuous.

                                            >It's hard considering the light-up sweater you're currently wearing.

                                            >Jambo and her dumb sweaters... where does she even get them?

                                            >Piney finally glances in your direction and blinks. "Ah- My apologies Stella! I didn't mean to wake you..."

                                            >Dammit.

                                            >You clear your throat.

                                            "No biggie, I kinda wanted to break out the nog anyway..."

                                            >God you wish this stuff was spiked...

                                            >But unfortunately, you and alcohol are no longer friends.

                                            >It's uh- it's better this way.

                                            >Anyway, time for a quick getaway!

                                            >You give the two a sheepish grin and wave.

                                            "Have a merry Crimbo, fellas! I'm gonna go… uh…”

                                            >Quick, think of something Christmasy!

                                            “D-deck some halls! So uh… Yeah. S-seeya, gals…"

                                            >Smooth one, Conny.

                                            >You're a total smoothie.


                                            >After shutting your door and awkwardly excusing yourself from the conversation you no doubt would have been pulled into, you begin to trot aimlessly down the hall.

                                            >Eggnog still firmly grasped in your magic, you pause to stifle a yawn in front of an entirely different entrance to the main hall, away from any roving busybodies.

                                            >You really don't have a game plan today, especially since Bright Dawn decided to postpone the attendance count for the holidays.

                                            >Speaking of which...

                                            "Maybe I could go pester her for a bit..."

                                            >She's probably still at her desk, doing ungodly amounts of paperwork like usual.

                                            >You're sure it's even worse around this time of year. Everyone seems to get some kind of second wind around the holidays and starts running around all willy-nilly...

                                            >Maybe a visit from her least favorite pal Conny will do her some good.

                                            >Or you know, bad.

                                            >At this point you'd just be happy to be around somepony familiar, even if you're not exactly needed.

                                            >There's way too many new faces popping up these days...

                                            >You let out a quiet 'hah'.

                                            "That's... not very friendly of you, Conny."

                                            >You probably should work on that.

                                            >Back on topic... You're sure Bright won't mind you popping up.

                                            >And if she does, well, you can always fall back on Jamboree.

                                            >She's usually more than happy to have you hang around.

                                            >Even if you'd rather *not* participate in another 'pre-Christmas party'... The prospect of free sweets is always enticing.

                                            >But before you enact plan B...

                                            >It's time for plan A.

                                            >You clear your throat, intent on trying to sound like some bri-ish waif.

                                            "Let's hop on over to the front desk, eh gov'nah~?"

                                            >You wince upon hearing the sultry tone that weasels its way out of your throat.

                                            >Yeesh.

                                            >Okay, no voices.

                                            >Still don't have a hold on that.

                                            >You glance behind you, making sure no one was around to witness that.

                                            >...Good, you're alone.

                                            >You shake your head.

                                            "Friggin' dumbass..."

                                            >Sometimes you wonder if that's something you can get turned off.

                                            >Maybe you could go to a doctor or a uh- a ponytech or whatever...

                                            >Though you suppose that means admitting a few things about yourself, huh?

                                            "Like that's happening..."

                                            >You'll just settle for your usual tone.

                                            >Whatever that might be.

                                            "I wonder if everyone thinks I'm some kinda sad sack?"

                                            >You're certainly no barrel of laughs, but you're fun!

                                            >Maybe?

                                            >Sometimes...

                                            >You mull it over in your head a bit, swirling your mug.

                                            >Ultimately, you decide to leave the topic for now.

                                            >No use standing around cooped up in your own head, Conny.

                                            >You can ruminate later.

                                            >You uh- you're burning daylight!

                                            >You don't exactly get many opportunities to just goof off like this, so make it count.

                                            >You eye your eggnog briefly, noting that it's about half empty.

                                            >Probably should nurse it, you've only got so much of the stuff in your mini-fridge.

                                            >You roll your head a bit and let out a sigh.

                                            >Anyways...

                                            >You lift up a hoof and set it on the double doors in front of you, a small smile on your face.

                                            >Front desk, ho!


                                            >Pushing your way into the main hall, you're immediately greeted by Ol' Saint Nick himself.

                                            >You'd be lying if you said you didn't jump a little.

                                            >He was pretty run of the mill when it came to Santa depictions.

                                            >Big coat, big belly, big sack...

                                            >The only unique bit you could see was a few little pony dolls loitering around his feet.

                                            >Funny thing is you're pretty sure you've seen a tiny pony or two who look just like them.

                                            >Small world, eh?

                                            >Well, especially for them.

                                            >The jolly cardboard giant and his little posse were sitting in the middle of the hall, mere feet in front of the doors you just came out of.

                                            >From all the little knick knacks and decorations around him, you guess they're still working on here as well.

                                            >You give the cutout a nod and take a few steps towards him.

                                            "Uh- Hey Santa! You don't, like, retroactively give ponies coal, do you?"

                                            >You chuckle a little.

                                            "God knows I'd deserve it..."

                                            >Seeing that you don't get an answer from the stoic piece of cardboard, you decide to take your leave.

                                            "Happy holidays, dude. Don't forget about me, alright?"

                                            >You swerve around the cutout and pause briefly to mentally prepare yourself for the onslaught of people to come.

                                            "The front's gonna be packed, I just know it..."

                                            >You can already see a few ponies in the distance, slowly making their way over as they put up decorations, just like the pair by your room.

                                            >By this time tomorrow the whole place is gonna be utterly flush with festive flair.

                                            "Guess I gotta go past them, huh?"

                                            >You take a tentative sip as you squint at the pegasus and unicorn before you.

                                            "Do I... know those two?"

                                            >You gingerly make your way towards them and as you approach, the little pricks of anxiety in the back of your mind melts away.

                                            >Oh you *definitely* know these guys.

                                            >Now in your element, you give them a casual wave.

                                            "Hey Jive! Waltz!"

                                            >The first of the mocha colored mares to turn to you is a pegasus with a lazy eye and a pair of fake antlers on her head.

                                            >Her grin is infectious.

                                            >"Conny! How nice to see you out and about."

                                            "Nice to see you too, Waltz. Preparations going well?"

                                            >"Mmhm! We're holding down the fort until Tally and Ms. R come back."

                                            >No clue who those dudes are, but you nod along regardless.

                                            "Uh-huh, I see..."

                                            >You glance around the now tidy bit of hall.

                                            "Looks good so far! Might wanna... uh- I got it."

                                            >You light up the bow of a flat present on the wall and retie it, making it nice and fluffy instead of kinda saggy.

                                            >Waltz blinks. "Oh! Thank you kindly, Conny."

                                            "No worries, I know those things are hard with just your hooves."

                                            >Waltz's wings ruffle a little. "Or wings! Gosh, I swear I've seen somepony do it with theirs before, but I simply can't figure it out..."

                                            >Her slightly shorter unicorn twin attempts to greet you through the wreath that was currently obstructing her mouth.

                                            >"Hah Cawni."

                                            "Heya Jive."

                                            >Jive lowers her head and gently sets the wreath on the floor.

                                            >She sputters a little as she lifts her head.

                                            >"Bleh, fake nettles..."

                                            "Dusty?"

                                            >"Very."


                                            >Scanning over the coffee scented pair, you chuckle lightly.

                                            "Ya know... It's kinda funny seeing you two *not* dishing out sweets. Or you know... making 'em."

                                            >Jive shakes a hindleg, trying to unstick a piece of colorful tape that was currently stuck to the bottom of her hoof to no avail.

                                            >"Well, I'll have you know that we do a lot of other stuff! I'd say we're doing quite well for ourselves. I'm on a roll!"

                                            >She grumbles as she finally gets it off. "Friggin.. everywhere..."

                                            >Waltz tilts her head a bit. "I... Don't know if I'd describe our current situation as 'quite well'." She shuffles little in place, looking unsure of herself. "Or 'on a roll'."

                                            >Waltz then unfurls a wing and points to the bow you just fluffed. "As you can see, we are rather ill-equipped to deal with such troublesome- uhm..." She clears her throat. "Apologies, words fail me at the moment..."

                                            >Jive, while a little indignant at her sister's admittance, chimes in regardless. "Decor?"

                                            >A little flushed, Waltz nods slowly. "Y-yes, that..."

                                            >Your eyes trail up to Jive's cracked horn, which almost seems to spark at the acknowledgement.

                                            "Yeah... Doing it all by hoof would probably be a pain, but..."

                                            >You gesture around the section of the hall they were working on.

                                            "I think you two have done a pretty bang-up job so far, despite the lack of hands or uh- or magic."

                                            >Jive lets out a sigh, her head bowing slightly.

                                            >Your ears droop at the sight.

                                            "H-hey... Jeez, Jive, I really didn't mean to-"

                                            >She shakes her head. "No no, Conny. You're quite right, it has been a bit of a challenge..."

                                            >Waltz inches closer to Jive's side. "T-that being said... It's been rather fun! It's uhm... almost like baking in a way!"

                                            >Jive lets out a little 'heh' and turns to her. "Yeah, it really is, huh? Baking was abysmal at first, but I think we got a hang of it, right?"

                                            >Waltz nods in agreement. "Mmhm! I dare say now we're the bestest baking club in all of BA history!"

                                            "You mean the only baking club in all of BA history?"

                                            >Jive snickers a little as Waltz reddens.

                                            >"I-I uhm..."

                                            >Jive bumps Waltz with her flank, an almost smug look on her face. "The horseshoe's on the other hoof, eh? Must feel preeetty embarrassing..."

                                            >Looks like she perked up pretty quickly, even if it was kinda at Waltz's expense.

                                            >Waltz stammers a little, her wings unconsciously flaring a bit. "Whuh- Well I- I uhm- At least I wasn't the one who said it first..."

                                            >"Ha! But *you* said it in front of somepony! *I* didn't!"

                                            >You're... not entirely sure what's going on, but it must be another reference to something you don't know about.

                                            >That's happening a lot today, huh?

                                            >Waltz swiftly recovers with another little ruffle of her wings. "Anyhoo... We've probably been holding you up for an awfully long time now, my apologies..."

                                            >You shake your head.

                                            "Nah, I'm glad I bumped into you two. No uh- no hard feelings?"

                                            >Jive waves a hoof.

                                            >"Not at all! Just, you know, snag me a peppermint while you're out there, eh?"

                                            >You smile.

                                            "Sure thing, Java."


                                            >"Don't you think you've had enough sweets for one day, Jive? You already went through the stocking Mr. C gave you..."

                                            >"Shhh... She doesn't need to know that!"

                                            "Pff, you let your sweet tooth get the better of you, eh? Maybe I should veto the peppermints..."

                                            >Jive huffs. "Well... Malt- uh- She..."

                                            >Jive continues to murmur to herself, trying to come up with something to blame on her quiet sister.

                                            "I think... Malt hasn't done much today to warrant getting cut off on her peppermint supply. You on the other hoof? Hah, I know from experience that your candy-lust is never satisfied... "

                                            >You stifle a laugh.

                                            "Maybe I should go get her some instead!"

                                            >Malt tilts her head. "Oh! Why, that's a nice offer Conny, but I'm fi-"

                                            >Jive butts in. "Fiiiaamished! She's famished! You should *totally* get her some of those peppermints and forget about me! I didn't even want any to begin with!"

                                            >Malt gives her a confused look. "Maybe we should try making some peppermint bark later if that's the case..."

                                            "So... Do you guys add peppermint extract or just crush up a bunch of candy canes?"

                                            >Malt taps a hoof to her chin.

                                            >"Well, I haven't made a whole lot so I don't have a uhm.. a flow down just yet. Maybe a bit of both?"

                                            >She gives you a warm smile. "Experimentation is key in baking! ...Sometimes."

                                            >Malt shudders a little. "You never mess with bread."

                                            >Jive scrunches slightly. "I'm starting to get a little sick of the word 'peppermint'..."

                                            "Tis the season, unfortunately. You'll just have to suffer."

                                            >You swirl your cup a bit.

                                            "Personally, I ain't one for candy canes, but a little mint here or there is a-okay in my book."

                                            >Jive shrugs a bit. "I'm a bit of a sucker for mint myself. You ever had the mint version of cookies n' cream ice cream? Great stuff right there!"

                                            >Malt gently brushes her wing against Jive's side. "Jive... I think you're stalling."

                                            >Jive pouts. "Don't act so innocent! You're totally stalling too!"

                                            >Malt lets out a theatrical sigh. "I suppose I am, aren't I?"

                                            "Truly you two are the biggest obstacles to my journey."

                                            >Malt clears her throat and scoots aside, giving you a clear view of the door behind her. "It was nice catching up, Conny. I do hope we get more time to visit some other... time."

                                            >Her wings twitch. "I hope it's okay to repeat 'time' so easily..."

                                            >Jive shoves the wreath beside her towards the wall. "Could of just, you know, used a different word?"

                                            >"I... Didn't think of one in time- ah!"

                                            "You want me to get you a thesaurus for Christmas?"

                                            >Malt's ears perk up. "I... wouldn't be against the notion, but doesn't that spoil the surprise?"

                                            "Dunno, maybe that's not the only thing I wind up gifting! It'll just be 'part' of the surprise then."

                                            >"Ooo... I see! But uhm- y-you really don't need to..."

                                            >Jive snickers. "Humbly mumbly Malty!"

                                            "Careful Jive, Santa's always watching…"

                                            >You point down the hall to the cardboard Claus.

                                            "Might just wind up with a heap of coal if somepony decides to give him a ring..."

                                            >Malt gives a playfully somber sigh and turns to her sister. "Oh dear… Please be careful, sis!"

                                            >Jive suddenly looks a little anxious.

                                            >”Santa…? Ah! No uh- no need to tell him, alright? I’m cool, mare! Cool as a cucumber!"


                                            >Jive steps aside and stands at attention.

                                            >”Carry on, Conny!”

                                            >You roll your eyes.

                                            “Oh don’t be so dramatic, I’ve just been messing with you."

                                            >Her stance sags slightly. “You… are?”

                                            “Those peppermints up front are free for the taking, Java. I could totally grab you some if you want though, I’ll swing by again soon, I’m sure.”

                                            >Jive blinks. “You mean those aren’t just for staff?”

                                            >You tilt your head.

                                            “...No? Also, who said I’m staff?”

                                            >Malt pipes up. “Well, you *do* live here… And help Ms. Bright.”

                                            “Pff- I just do the attendance for her whenever she’s too busy to do it herself! I’m kind like her… intern? Assistant?”

                                            >You shrug a little.

                                            “ …Eh, something demeaning.”

                                            >You clear your throat.

                                            “Having somepony like me running around and making sure all the little things are taken care of frees her up for more uh- more paperwork? Lots and lots of paperwork…”

                                            >Java shivers a bit. ”Yeesh, sounds harsh.”

                                            “Funny thing is… I think she likes it. Dunno why though, it seems kinda soul crushing.”

                                            >Malt taps her chin with a hoof. “I suppose some ponies find such repetitive activities… soothing? Yes, that.”

                                            >You walk past the pair and stop once you make it to the door that was previously behind them.

                                            >You turn to look at them and give a lazy wave.

                                            “Take care, you two! …Still want me to yoink you a couple mints, Java?”

                                            >”If you find the time. I’ll uh- I’ll keep the whole ‘free mints’ thing in mind next time around…”

                                            >She looks like she’s kinda embarrassed over her ‘clever’ plan being unnecessary.

                                            >You hear Malt stifle a giggle as you turn back to the door.

                                            >”Hehe… You said time twice too!”

                                            >”Bah- Who cares! Words are made up anyway!”

                                            >”Hmm… I don’t think the dictionary people would like it if you said something like that!”

                                            >”The- Hey! Stop making stuff up just to mess with me!”

                                            >”I-I’m not making that up! I overheard a little silvery mare ramble on about it the other day and she sounded like she knew her stuff! I’d hate to make the people who make words mad… I’m already not very good with them myself!”

                                            >”Malty, maybe you shouldn’t take everything at face value…”

                                            >You stifle a laugh of your own as you leave the coffee colored twins behind.

                                            >Sometimes you wish you had what they had.

                                            >Having family must be nice, huh?

                                            >You certainly wouldn't mind having one again...


                                            >Pushing your way into yet another hall, you let out a yawn.

                                            “Man, how long did I stand there and talk with those two…”

                                            >It didn’t feel *that* long, but your social battery already feels a little sapped…

                                            “Probably got enough juice to manage my way though whatever awaits me in the front…”

                                            >You swirl your mug and glance inside.

                                            >And a bit of eggnog left to boot.

                                            >Onward, Conny! Just a couple steps more.

                                            >You trot forward at a leisurely pace, taking in the atmosphere of the small corridor.

                                            >Compared to the plus shaped hall before, this one was a straight shot to the front, simply having a couple display cases lining your way.

                                            >Inside were various bits of memorabilia of the BA of the past.

                                            >Group photos, trophies, and an assortment of keepsakes line the cases.

                                            >You pause briefly to look at one photo in particular.

                                            >It depicted a lively group of ponies sitting around a roundtable filled with snacks and minis, all gussied up in fantasy apparel.

                                            >Sitting a little off to the side of yet another pair of sisters was a familiar lavender colored mare, smiling sheepishly at the camera she just realized was there.

                                            >She wore a sort of tabard which was clearly too big for her and had a tilted plastic morion atop her head.

                                            >You smile at the scene, feeling a little nostalgic.

                                            >That was probably what, barely a week into your stay?

                                            >You got snatched up almost immediately by the game guild, right in the middle of one of Starry’s campaigns.

                                            >Your schedule was pretty open at the time and seeing that you liked the idea of free snacks… You agreed to give their little game a shot, much to the delight of the fledgling little club.

                                            >You squint at yourself.

                                            >You look kinda uncomfortable in that picture…

                                            >Guess at the time you were still pretty anxious when it came to photography, huh?

                                            >Can’t say that’s changed much, but you’ve gotten a bit better at controlling your gut reaction.

                                            >You chuckle lightly.

                                            “God, I looked like such a friggin' dork…”

                                            >”Still do.”

                                            >You jump a little at a voice behind you and turn to face it.

                                            >...And find yourself looking up at the funniest thing you’ve seen all week.

                                            >Standing before you was a large whitish stallion with a faded mane that was once a navy blue. At one point it was short and neatly cut, but now it’s gotten long enough that he actually looks a little like the pony he’s based off.

                                            >In any other context, he’d be kinda intimidating, but at the moment…

                                            >He wore a pair of felt antlers atop his head and somehow had a glowing red nose attached to his snout.

                                            >Around his neck was a collar with various sleigh bells attached and he wore a sort of… saddle on his back.

                                            >Looks big enough for a kid to ride.

                                            “Fiver? Hey buddy…you look… great?”


                                            >You cover your uncontrollable grin with a hoof as the placid and almost disapproving expression on the stallion’s face told you that this was *definitely* not his idea.

                                            >”Good morning, Cradle. I…”

                                            “*snrk*”

                                            >His brow furrows. “Cradle, please-”

                                            >You burst out in laughter, unable to keep it in any longer.

                                            >As you finally get a hold of yourself and wipe a tear from your eye, he sighs, shaking his head.

                                            >”Of all ponies to bump into, why did it have to be you?”

                                            >You huff.

                                            “What, you implying that nopony else would laugh their ass off at all…”

                                            >You gesture a hoof at his attire.

                                            “This?”

                                            >”Not particularly, no. I just knew you’d find this particularly amusing.”

                                            >At least he’s honest.

                                            >Now not so giggly, you eye him a bit.

                                            ”So Fives… I heard something about Santa’s reindeer earlier from a disgruntled mare… I suppose you’re ol’ Rudolph?”

                                            >Five-O nods curtly. “For better or for worse.”

                                            “Man… Of all the ponies, I’d want to say it’d be Jams! I think she'd totally rock the red nose.”

                                            >”Jamboree was *almost* voted in, but I think the counsel realized pretty quickly that she’s a little too small for the role…”

                                            “Ah yes… ‘the counsel’.”

                                            >You waltz up to his side and give him a gentle prod in the barrel, making him back away slightly with a snort.

                                            “Dude, I don’t think your girlfriend counts as an entire ‘counsel’... I’m pretty sure you need like, at least two other people for one of those!”

                                            >Fiver frowns. “Ms. Bright is not my marefriend.”

                                            “You’ve been on dates. Several dates.”

                                            >His frown deepens. “Lunch or dinner outings between friends of the opposite sex are not unheard of, Cradle. We simply find each other's company favorable.”

                                            >It’s usually pretty hard to tell what’s going on behind that icy blue gaze of his, but you do see the faintest hint of a blush on his sorry mug…

                                            >You back off a bit with a knowing smile.

                                            “Right, right…”

                                            >”Had your fill yet?”

                                            >Seeing that you can’t think of any more buttons to press…

                                            >You shrug and then lazily saunter past the red nosed reincolt.

                                            “Eh… Guess so.”

                                            >You look back at him with a smirk and waggle a hoof in a loose attempt at a wave.

                                            “Ciao, Fives. Take care you big lug.”

                                            >His stoic demeanor cracks slightly as he lets out a small chuckle, shaking his head.

                                            >He gives you an acknowledging nod, an ever so slight smile on his face.

                                            >”See you later, Cradle. Try to not get in too much trouble.”

                                            “Wouldn’t dream of it, officer!”


                                            >You push open the door to the front at last, leaving a ridiculously dressed Fives behind in your wake.

                                            >As much as you egged him on, you're kinda... proud of him?

                                            >Of all the ponies that could have possibly been chosen for such a role, Fiver wouldn't have even crossed your mind.

                                            >You guess he's loosened up way more than you first thought...

                                            >Hell, he even smiled for a second there!

                                            >Part of you wants to blame Bright for nudging him to be less of a stick in the mud, but you think it might just be him... Growing as a pony?

                                            >To think that's the same dude who attempted to shut down a sprinkler party last summer because it was 'too rowdy'.

                                            "Heh. Good on ya, Fives."

                                            >As you say that out loud, your ears pin back a bit.

                                            >You glance down the small corridor that you were currently standing in.

                                            >Just a few feet away are a gaggle of busy people and ponies.

                                            >It uh- it just dawned on you that you're technically in public now.

                                            >Probably shouldn't be talking to yourself...

                                            >You take a deep breath, attempting to stifle the slight burning sensation in your cheeks.

                                            >Focus, there's no need to freak!

                                            >...You can still feel your ears firmly against your mane.

                                            >You guess you can't help but feel a little nervous... It's a lot of people.

                                            >That being said, you can't just let yourself get cold hooves right at the finish line!

                                            >Press on, Conny.

                                            "I got this..."

                                            >You murmur that as you slink out of the safety of the doorway and into the fray that was the front of the building.

                                            >You observe several ponies gathering around some tall smart girl with a clipboard.

                                            >Her words are muffled from here, but it sounds like she's giving them all areas to decorate.

                                            >Beside her was a cream colored mare with a frazzled black mane that was done up in a bun. She wore a pair of dorky looking glasses and held a similar clipboard to the women's in a crux of a foreleg.

                                            >You know immediately that she's Tally Chart, Bright's *actual* assistant.

                                            >Deducing what Waltz told you, that skinny gal next to her must be Ms. R.

                                            >You know, people like to talk about how dogs have a tendency to match their owners, but you think the same could be said about ponies too.

                                            >Ms. R had the same kinda aura that Tally had.

                                            >That sort of... hyper nerd feel.

                                            >Now within earshot of their conversation, you tune in for a moment.

                                            >"...Mandolin?"

                                            >A small unicorn colt waggles his hoof in the air.

                                            >"Here!"

                                            >"Would you be a dear and help Barley with his tinsel? He's over by the kitchen and I think he could use a hoof."

                                            >"Aye aye Ms. Tally!" The orange colt gives a salute and then bounds out of sight, much to the amusement of the other ponies gathered.

                                            >Sounds like just about everyone is pulling their weight, kiddos included.

                                            >You turn to eye the front desk and lo and behold...

                                            >There sat an off-white, almost yellowish mare, her two-toned eyes glistering faintly behind a pair of cheap reading glasses.

                                            >Her mane was an unkempt pastel sunset that was recognizable anywhere.

                                            >It was the princess of paperwork, Bright Dawn.


                                            >Bright was currently pouring over some kind of document on her desk, a plain fountain pen gripped in her odd magic’s grasp.

                                            >Unlike yours or a majority of the unicorns you’ve encountered, hers didn’t really make… sense?

                                            >Well, it functioned about the same as yours, but it’s like… Uh…

                                            >Okay, so it’s like one of those sour gummy candy strips was wrapping itself around her pen!

                                            >It’s… hard to describe in any other way.

                                            >Sure, Bright explained things to you when you asked that one time, but you’re not entirely sure what ‘hard light’ is still and honestly? You’re pretty sure she was just messing with you.

                                            >So… yeah, you still have no idea what’s up with her magic.

                                            >Personally, you think having magic candy tendrils move stuff around for you would be pretty sweet.

                                            >...Heh.

                                            >You give the gathering of busy ponies one last glance before approaching Miss Bright.

                                            >Looks like everypony scattered and now Miss R is helping Tally adjust her tacky christmas tree tie.

                                            >You know… it’s not so bad out here.

                                            >Ah.

                                            >You pause briefly to tap the wood floor with a backhoof a few times.

                                            >Let’s not jinx it, Conny…

                                            >You clear your throat and lock onto Bright.

                                            >It’s about time we go harass a princess, eh?

                                            >You trot on over to the front desk, which was nestled between a big ol’ pine and yet another towering Santa cutout.

                                            >This one in particular was cradling a frail brownish filly in his arms and looked weirdly… buff?

                                            >It was a cute picture, but you really can't get past how muscly Ol' Saint Nick was.

                                            >Beefcake Santa wasn’t on your BA holiday bingo card, but at this point it might as well be.

                                            >Walking up to Bright, a small smile crosses your face as you give a mock formal salute.

                                            “Mornin’ chief.”

                                            >Bright’s gaze lifts from her papers and once she notices it’s you, she sets aside her pen and straightens her posture.

                                            >She adjusts her glasses with a wingtip, smiling warmly. “Good morning, Constellation.”

                                            >Dawn’s wings ruffle slightly as she clears her throat.

                                            >”I wouldn’t have expected to see you up so early, you always seemed like quite the heavy sleeper…”

                                            >You stretch a little and stifle a yawn.

                                            “Well, when you’ve got ponies bouncing up and down the corridors at the crack of dawn rambling about reindeer and questionable dances, it’s a tad hard to keep yourself snuggled up. Feels more productive to go for a walk anyhow.”

                                            >Bright rubs her chin and nods slowly. “Well… I do apologize for the inconvenience.”

                                            >You shake your head.

                                            “Nah, no need Bright. Honestly? I think I need this.”

                                            >You take another sip of now room temperature eggnog and then turn slightly to look at the pine that was mere inches from the ceiling.

                                            “Gotta get out more, even if ‘getting out’ is just me prancing around the building on a self imposed quest to talk to you.”

                                            >You turn back to Bright, whose head is now cocked to the side.

                                            >It was less ‘confused puppy’ and more ‘owl staring at you sideways’.


                                            >”You were looking to talk to me? What for?”

                                            >You glance down into your mug and pout, having just noticed that your last sip drained it completely.

                                            >That’s a bummer.

                                            >You levitate your mug to the desk and let it settle beside Bright’s own mug, finally giving you a respite from constantly using your magic.

                                            >Now mugless, you give Bright a shrug.

                                            “Nothing in particular, I guess I just wanted to see how you’re doing.”

                                            >”Huh.”

                                            >Bright looks… puzzled.

                                            >Guess she wasn’t expecting that?

                                            >”Well I… I suppose I’m doing fine, just a bit busy that’s all. Hah, I don’t even think I’ve had breakfast yet…”

                                            “You and me both, sister.”

                                            >You lean onto the desk and give her a poke on her turtleneck clad chest.

                                            “When *aren’t* you busy? Don’t you ever get breaks and stuff? You’re like… our boss, mare. Go eat a bagel or something!”

                                            >Bright narrows her eyes. “I… I guess a bagel doesn’t sound half bad right about now… Maybe with some cream cheese and banana slices… hah…”

                                            “Yeah, I know what you mean, I wouldn’t mind having one of those everything bagels with a couple slices of- Huh?”

                                            >You watch as Bright gets out of her swivel chair with a soft sigh of relief.

                                            >”Thank you kindly Constellation, I think I have an idea!”

                                            >Whuh-

                                            >Ooooh god did you actually just convince the one thing keeping this whole operation together to abandon her post? Without warning?

                                            >You nearly trip as you slide in front of Bright’s path before she can leave her desk area.

                                            “Woah woah woah- wait, you’re leaving? Just like that?”

                                            >She blinks a little. “I… Yes?”

                                            >You fidget nervously as your mind races into ‘don’t ruin christmas’ mode.

                                            “Isn’t that a bit uh… impulsive? I mean- I’m not saying you can’t do whatever you want, I just don’t want something dumb happen while you’re away, you know? That, and I uh- I don’t wanna be the reason you’re away in the first place, h-haha…”

                                            >You let out a quiet, nervous chuckle and trail your eyes down to her forehooves.

                                            >”Hmph…”

                                            >While she wasn’t all that taller than you, you still had to lift your head slightly to look her in the eye as she mulls over your words.

                                            >Your ears flick as you watch her stifle a bubbly laugh behind a hoof.

                                            >”Oh Constellation, there’s no need to worry! I’ll take full responsibility for my absence and really, it’s only a little breakfast run! I’ll be back in say- about a half hour? Tops? I might swing by Jamboree’s room and see how her costumes are doing before I head back, though…”

                                            >You feel yourself standing a little taller.

                                            “Cool, cool… Do you want me to tell Tally? She’s just over yonder.”

                                            >”It’s alright, I have no quarrel letting her… Hm?”

                                            >As Bright cranes her neck to look behind you, you turn as well.

                                            >Huh…

                                            >It looks like Tally and her gal are nowhere to be found…

                                            “Darnit.”

                                            >You turn back to Bright, who once more locks eyes with you.

                                            >”Constellation… May I ask a favor of you?”

                                            >Oh boy.


                                            ~ ~ ~

                                            >Who woulda thunk.

                                            >You, sitting at the big mare’s desk!

                                            >Well, she’s not exactly ‘big’ is she?

                                            >Taller? Sure. But big? Eh… She's kinda skinny.

                                            >You’re not entirely sure who she’s modeled after, but it’s obviously neither Sunrump or Moonbutt.

                                            >You wriggle around in Bright’s swivel chair, not entirely sure how to occupy yourself while she’s gone.

                                            >’Alright Constellation, all you have to do is make sure that any new ponies that come in are properly greeted and handed an introductory slip! I’ll deal with anything else when I come back, so just tell them that, okay?’

                                            >The likelihood of somepony brand spanking new hobbling in from the cold feels to be around zilch, so really, you’re just a budget seat warmer.

                                            “At least she offered to grab me more nog…”

                                            >And gave you permission to rummage around in her hard candy stores under the desk, which you totally didn’t know about already.

                                            >You listlessly pop a tiny cola flavored candy barrel into your mouth as you glance around the festive front.

                                            >Still no sign of Tally, but you do notice Slate and Lime Salt poking their heads out of a side door leading into the commons.

                                            >The pair of gray mares were surveying the area for some unknown reason.

                                            >Seeing that neither were in their game attire, you guess they weren’t on another quest.

                                            >By complete accident, you make eye contact with Slate, who seems excited to see you instead of Bright.

                                            >She says something to Lime, who nods along and then says something back.

                                            >They retreat into the hall for a moment, and then open the door fully and start beelining for you.

                                            >As Slate and Lime make it to the front desk, you clear your throat and attempt to put on a more professional air.

                                            >...No accents, okay?

                                            “Good morning, fellas… Didja lose a bag of holding somewhere?”

                                            >That… wasn’t particularly professional, but it did get Slate to smile.

                                            >”H-hi Conny! I’m quite certain I’ve got all my bags where I last left them!”

                                            >Lime Salt gives an acknowledging nod. “Conny… Have you seen Miss Bright by chance? We’ve got an idea we wanna run past her.”

                                            >Slate nods quickly in succession. “Yes! We’re gonna see if she’ll let us c-convert this little sideroom into a game room!”

                                            >She stifles a somewhat nervous laugh. “I’m- I’m thinking of gathering up all of Starry’s old 4E stuff and making it into a true dungeon master’s hovel! It’ll be d-dark and brooding and super duper cool!”

                                            >Before you can open your mouth, Slate lifts up a paper which was apparently nestled under one of her teeny wings.

                                            >It depicts a rough sketch of the hovel with a bunch of happy stickponies in funny hats gathered around a central table with various bric a brac scattered around.

                                            >...One of them looks kinda like you.

                                            >Ah, there’s those guilty pangs in your chest again...

                                            >”Pretty c-cool right?”

                                            >You look up at Slate’s awkward smile and can’t help but flash your own.

                                            “Yeah… it’s pretty damn awesome.”


                                            >You clear your throat and gesture to nopony in particular.

                                            “Bright is uh- she’s on break right now. If you’re looking to tell her about it, you might wanna come back a little later.”

                                            >Slate tucks her paper under her wing again with a soft sigh.

                                            >”I uhm… I’m kind of relieved it was you here instead of her! I was pretty nervous...”

                                            >Lime gives her a little bump with her flank. “I said I’d do it for you, remember?”

                                            >Slate turns to her and shakes her head. “No, I wanted to do it! I just sorta… worried myself into a corner, you know? Thinking about all the things that could have gone wrong…”

                                            “I getcha, Slate. I don’t think Bright would go and dismiss it though, there really isn’t a use for a lot of those extra rooms, so I think things would have panned out.”

                                            >Lime rubs her chin with a hoof a bit. “Conny’s right, sis. Besides that meeting room down the hall it’s pretty barren in that wing. I’d say we’re a shoe in!”

                                            >Slate’s warbly smile widens slightly. “R-really? I hope so too…”

                                            >She then turns back to you. “Thanks Conny! I’m sure everything will turn out great!”

                                            “I… You’re welcome, Slate. Don’t uh- don’t celebrate too early though, you still gotta practice your little presentation. It’s kinda… lacking at the moment.”

                                            >”My- Oh!”

                                            >Slate nods quickly again. “Yes yes, I know! I’m gonna make sure I jot down lotsa talking points to go over with Miss Bright while we wait!”

                                            >Lime Salt gives Slate a poke in the wing. “I guess this means it’s time to take our leave?”

                                            >Slate glances over at her. “Hm? Well, I suppose so.”

                                            >Lime turns around and starts to make her way back to the door they came from.

                                            >From the way she moves, It looks like her leg is still giving her a bit of trouble…

                                            >Turning your attention back to Slate, you realize she’s kind of… staring at you.

                                            >Lime seems to notice her absence part way through her journey, as she looks back with a tilt of her head. “Something the matter, sis?”

                                            >Slate’s eyes dart to the ground and she takes a deep breath.

                                            >...She then swiftly props herself up on Bright’s desk, making you unconsciously push yourself further into the swivel chair.

                                            >Is she… trying to seem taller than you? You really can’t tell…

                                            >She’s got a sort of determined glint in her eye either way.

                                            >”C-Conny?”

                                            “Uh… yeah?”

                                            >Slate covers her mouth with a hoof as she ‘ahem’s’ a little.

                                            >”I formally invite you b-back to the game guild! If- If you uhm… want to come back, that is…”

                                            >...Oh.

                                            >She shrinks down a little, her head almost resting atop the desk. “I just… seeing that you’re here… I wanted to see if you uh- uhm…”

                                            >Slate trails off, averting her eyes.

                                            “Slate, I’d love to but-”

                                            >She lifts her head, her lower lip quivering. “Is it because of what Starry said? You looked really sad a-and-”

                                            >You slide off the chair while she’s mid-sentence and grab hold of her face with your hooves.


                                            >It’s a little awkward to do so while leaning over a desk, but it gets the right reaction.

                                            >Her eyes are like dinner plates as she’s forced to lock eyes with you.

                                            “Slate, It’s not Starry’s, yours, or anypony’s fault. I love you guys! I just…”

                                            >Your ears droop slightly and you let out a sigh.

                                            “It was fun. I had tons of fun. I just can’t… disassociate the game with something, okay? I tried for a while, but I just couldn’t keep it up.”

                                            >You let go of her face and fall back to the ground.

                                            “Look… I promise that when the time’s right, I’ll be more than happy to come back, okay? I’ll even make a character *specifically* to mess with Starry like old times!”

                                            >Slate sniffles. “You… mean it?”

                                            >You manage a smile. “Course I do! I’m not gonna abandon my guild, I’m just on… sick leave?“

                                            >”Sick leave…” She repeats with a mumble as she falls back to her hooves.

                                            >You notice Lime tentatively trot over, stopping just off to the side of Slate.

                                            >She doesn’t look particularly surprised by what just happened.

                                            >”Hey Slate? How about we try asking Bright another day, it’ll give us way more time to-”

                                            >Slate shakes her head. “N-no… I’m okay.”

                                            >Lime lifts a hoof in a concerned manner.

                                            >”Are you… sure?”

                                            >Slate turns to her and with a little nod. “Mmhm.”

                                            >She then turns back to you and flashes an embarrassed smile. “I’m sorry for uhm… g-getting all up in your face, Conny…”

                                            “Don’t worry about it, Slate. It’s… not really the time of year to let some heavy nonsense get you down, especially not mine.”

                                            >Lime takes a step forward. “Speaking of ‘heavy nonsense’… You never went into detail about *why* you left.”

                                            >Have your ears been pinned back this whole time?

                                            >You force a small smile.

                                            “Like I said, heavy nonsense.”

                                            >Slate brushes a wing against Lime, making her look over. “It’s private, I’m sure.”

                                            >You nod in agreement, making Lime bow her head slightly.

                                            >”…Sorry.”

                                            “If it’s any consolation, It’s nice to know you guys are worried about me! But uh- but really. I’m alright.”

                                            >For the most part, anyway.

                                            >You take a deep breath.

                                            “Anyways… You two should probably stop being worrywarts and get on that presentation! Who knows when Bright’ll be back… Don’tcha wanna impress her?”

                                            >Slate blinks.

                                            >”Ah! You’re right! Limey, we need to start our note taking posthaste!”

                                            >Lime seems reluctant to break eye contact with you, but Slate’s rekindled excitement gets her to at least crack a smile.

                                            >”Well, it was nice seeing you Conny. Try to relax, okay?”

                                            “I dunno mare, I feel preettty relaxed right about now…”

                                            >She rolls her eyes. “I’m sure being stuck on desk duty is super relaxing…”

                                            >Lime Salt walks away again as Slate gives you an awfully formal bow.

                                            >”…We can still talk about games sometimes, right?”

                                            “I’d love to hear what you guys get up to, so… yeah.”

                                            >Slate straightens herself up and does a sort of funny salute that you know all too well.

                                            >“Take care and uhm… Bye Briar!”

                                            >You stifle a laugh and return the salute in earnest.

                                            “Seeya Fleece.”


                                            >With that, Slate bounds after Lime, who was waiting patiently nearby.

                                            >They talk briefly, Slate seeming more or less her old, shaky self.

                                            >A lackadaisical smile is plastered on your face as you watch them go through the doors.

                                            >And once you’re sure they’re long gone, you let it drop and breathe a sigh of relief.

                                            >You were really cutting it close back there! Luckily Slate seemed to get the hint…

                                            >You find yourself sitting in relative silence for a while, or at least it feels like a while, before you finally raise your voice to mumble to nopony in particular.

                                            “...I really do miss you guys.”

                                            >But it’s been… difficult.

                                            >Your mind’s been pretty muddled lately. It’s been hard to focus on just about anything.

                                            >You really didn’t mean for your departure from the guild to be seen as a ‘resignation’ or whatever, but seeing how emotional Slate got… You guess that’s how it felt.

                                            >You’ve never been good at goodbyes, even the temporary kind.

                                            >No wonder you messed everything up.

                                            >It’s just in your nature, huh?

                                            >You’re just some stupid…

                                            >You inhale sharply.

                                            >...And exhale the tension building up in the pit of your stomach.

                                            >You’re getting nauseous.

                                            >You’re unsure if it’s the lack of real food, or your anxieties trying to get the better of you.

                                            >Probably a not-so-healthy combination of both.

                                            >Your eyes focus on your forehooves, which lay limply on Bright’s desk.

                                            >They’re trembling slightly.

                                            >You lower your head and murmur.

                                            “...Stop that. We’re not starting this. Not now.”

                                            >You take a deep breath, stifling back the rising emotions in the corners of your eyes.

                                            “Relax, it’s… it’s Christmas. You can’t.”

                                            >Almost Christmas, anyways…

                                            >You stay still with your eyes shut tight, your ears swiveling in the direction of some cheesy christmas song crooning from a nearby radio.

                                            >Apparently it’s cold outside.

                                            >But she can’t stay.

                                            >You distract yourself with the song and soon enough, you’ve calmed your nerves to the point that you can lift your head and let out a sigh without feeling like you’re going to throw up.

                                            >The guilty pangs in your chest haven’t gone away, but they’ve been prodding you long enough that the sensation has dulled down to something vaguely bearable.

                                            >You’ll pull through. You’ll make things right.

                                            >Like you said, you’ll get right back into the thick of it and play with them soon enough, you’re sure of it.

                                            >You just need time to get through the holidays.

                                            >Your shoulders sag a little.

                                            >The holidays…

                                            >You’ve tried to take them head on, but a weary part of you still wants to curl up and wallow in your bed until they pass.

                                            >Just like you did when you were on your own.

                                            >...But you know that it's not feasible anymore, not here.

                                            >Hah, especially with Jambo on scrooge watch…

                                            >You crack a smile.

                                            >You jest, but it feels that way sometimes. She’s always around the corner, waiting to cheer somepony up.

                                            >Luckily, you haven’t made it on her radar yet, but you’re sure that’ll change if you keep moping about.

                                            >You’d rather not share a similar fate to Ol’ Fiver’s.

                                            >You don’t look good in a collar, with or without the sleigh bells.

                                            >...Huh, you guess that’s your cue to straighten up and put on a brave face, huh?

                                            >You sit up in Bright’s chair and glance around the front area.

                                            >By some divine providence, it seems that nopony witnessed Slate’s little outburst.

                                            >Or yours.

                                            >Besides Santa, of course.

                                            >You turn to the cutout and give him a raspberry.

                                            “You better say nothing to nopony, Nicholas! I’ll never forgive you if you do.”

                                            >...And maybe get Slate some sweet dice for Christmas, bub!

                                            >And if he doesn’t, you certainly will.

                                            >...Wait, do you have money?

                                            >You think you might have a couple bucks in your desk drawer?

                                            >How much are dice, usually…?

                                            >Probably not a lot, but uh…

                                            >Maybe… you’ll just give her some of your old dice? You’re sure she’d enjoy the glittery purple ones that you have lying around… somewhere.

                                            >Your room is kind of a mess.

                                            >Smarty *obviously* isn’t doing his chores…

                                            >Lazy ass.

                                            >You chuckle quietly to yourself.

                                            >It’s a tad early to say, but…

                                            >You feel a little better already.

                                            >Let's hope it stays that way, hm?