"I always have a few treats on me!" Giovenith answered cheerfully, pulling a few packaged cookie trays from her pockets. "They're not fresh, but they are still very yummy! I can pass out the drinks too."
Unconcerned about the possible alarm her hammerspace magic may have caused, the godling headed up just ahead toward one of the library's larger tables, tucking the precious books beneath the table to make way for the refreshments. Out from her pockets came a variety of packaged cookies and sweets, as well as paper plates, paper cups, napkins, and cartons of juice and milk. It wasn't quite the fanciest display, nor the homiest, but it would do for now.
"I can't really say for sure how we came to your home," Giovenith explained, pouring some milk in a cup and offering it to the mayor. "It just happened out of nowhere for us too, though just in the nick of time. We, like your town I suppose, are a community of variety coming together as one, working together for the sake of our greater living. We've faced many challenges along the way and beaten them all, so whatever oddities brought us all here together now, I'm sure won't be an issue."
Out of the corner of her eye, the painter girl caught someone fixing themselves a plate, and felt pleased that they were noticed.
"Have you always been here in this world, or were you dropped in at some point as well?" she asked the mayor.
--
"Oh." Willow paused a second too long. "How nice to know." Still trying to maintain professionalism, the pony passed one last comforting smile to the crowd before rising back into the air. "Well, she is right, I must go now children... back to your story and song!"
And with that he flew off, ears noticeably flipping this way and that erratically as he mentally mulled over the child's words, eyes glazing over much of the crowd as he began to fly in thoughtless circles. Skeptical thing he was, he searched his brain for a hundred other possible meanings for the child's words in case crippling disappointment sought to strike, but he could find none. There was only the obvious and the most shaking meaning, and the painter found himself gripped in a wash of many kinds of emotion.
It was then that Willow began to wage an inner argument as he slowly flew lower, keeping his eyes pealed.
No, no, no. Stop being selfish. Giovenith is low enough on help as it is, this is no time to be abandoning her for your own reasons. Well, he wasn't really abandoning her, he was still doing his job. If the other ponies were in the crowd, and his job was to work the crowd, he was still technically doing his job, right? Don't you try to look for loop holes in this, you know damn well that ain't doing your job. Look at these people. They need reassurance. But he had been reassuring them, for quite some time now, and they seemed to be calming down all on their own by now. Plus he was just one pony, would a few minutes really have all that much effect? It won't be a few minutes, you will get so very carried away by this. You don't need to search out these people just because they're ponies, stop having such a species bias. Everypony else here is nice and sentient enough, isn't that enough for you? No, it actually wasn't.
Oh sure he loved his new friends and all, they were great, but it'd been over a year since he'd spoken with a similar shape. Guilty as he felt to admit it, even internally, Willow still deeply craved familiarity just like anyone else, the ease of not having to cherry pick his own knowledge and experience just to fit in with his current social circumstances. Sterling had left, and although Willow logically knew that somehow it probably wasn't on purpose, there was still a part of him that felt angry and betrayed by that. Why did he get to be whisked home while Willow remained the forgotten face on a recycled 'Missing Ponies' junk mail card? He had a life and ponies he missed too. So perhaps these ponies wouldn't be those ponies, but after all this time didn't he deserve something?
He would just say hello very quickly, and then get straight back to work for Giovenith. Assuming he could find them at all... this wasn't quite like spotting out different people in a normal Earth crowd, whatever new place they'd fallen into was chocked full of different kinds of beings (not unlike Equestria, actually). And there were so many! Willow knew the Building could expand to accommodate, but this was just ridiculous. From what he could see high up, Giovenith (and Nick!) were already doing as well as they could to entertain, though Willow was starting to become a bit surprised they were expected to handle this much--still, things hadn't gotten out of order, and it was fair enough to ask everyone do their part. He could still do his own in a manageable way. It was considering the godling's hospitality that he caught something though, almost quick enough to miss, a very quick dash of purple snatching some of the cookies Giovenith had laid out, followed by a flick of what seemed like yellowish hair in a turning fashion. Gotcha.
Quickly but carefully so as not to hit anyone, Willow descended further and tried to follow the general direction of what he thought he saw. For a moment he thought he lost it, turning in circles, until he caught the flash again accompanied by the familiar four-step beat of a trotting. Landing on the floor himself with crescendoing excitement, the pegasus navigated his way this way and that through the citizens, scurrying behind backs and through face-to-face conversations until he caught- gasp!
She'd stopped to adjust a wrinkled lime green tie attached to a white collar around her neck while balancing the plate of cookies on the other hoof--it was a she. She wasn't very pretty, not that it mattered to Willow, as from what he could guess, she was about as young/old he was but had been put through a great deal by stress and general carelessness toward appearance. As he'd caught before, her coat was a nice shade of lavender and her mane and tail were a kind of dull yellowish/blonde, mane up-set in a practical but scruffy bun. Her eyes were violet to suit, though they looked very tired and critical, and were framed by thin glasses. She took a few turns upon satisfaction with her tie adjustment, beginning to walk off, unintentionally showing off her cutie mark: a simple call bell, not unlike you'd find at any white collar desk service.
Willow'd be the first to admit, he could have done better to contain himself. He didn't have to pounce on her completely out of nowhere without warning, he just couldn't help it at the moment.
"Oh my sweet Celestia, you really are another pony!" the artist practically squealed with glee, swooping in and grabbing the unprepared mare by her forelegs. Her face flashed through a series of shocked expressions, trying to quickly process who this grinning fool was. "Wow, wow! My gosh! I didn't think it was possible! How did you get here? Did you use the Liquid Ebony spell to get from Equestria too?" He jerked this way and that, as if taking in the details of appearance could yield answers to his questions. "I have so much to ask! My name is Wi-"
BAM! Before he could even get his name out, Willow suddenly found the left side of his face pressed into the floor and one of his forelegs twisted behind him, as the mare pressed her strength into him. It didn't take much to disable him--she was an Earth pony. While Earth ponies weren't technically strong as a rule (like how pegasi could fly as a rule), not unlike how certain demographics of humans could have average-but-not-hard-truth differing traits like height, speed, hair colors, etc. among them, the non-horned/non-winged pony race did have a running tendency to outdo their unicorn and pegasus brethren when it came to natural-born brute force. This one was certainly demonstrating it now, offering her benevolent-but-uncalled-for assailant no mercy or questions as she kept him down where she wanted him.
"Ow- OW! OW! I'm sorry! SORRY!" Willow struggled against the pinning, to little avail. "OW! I said sorry dammit, stop!"
Outside his vision, somepony came to his rescue, as he could hear frantic pleas in some other language before the mare's weight gently rose off of him. Quickly bringing his foreleg back front as he rolled to his back, Willow looked upward toward the slightly-shadowed faces of the mare and a newly arrived stallion, who was looking far more concerned as he offered a hoof to help the pegasus up.
The stallion was also an Earth pony, much older than the mare, with a much more sincere, innocent pleading in his eyes as he spilled a flurry of what sounded like questions to Willow.
"I don't..." Willow winced, still rubbing his shoulder. "Uh..."
"He says he's sorry about what I did," he heard the mare finally speak, revealing a raspy, unattractive voice. Willow could tell instantly she had a penchant for smoking more than her healthy share. "He can't speak English, but he can understand it." She wasn't very expressive, her raspiness only worsened by her blunt tone.
The stallion nodded and spoke words of fervent, more sincere agreement. He was a bit of a bigger guy, though he could tell the shape was more from practical hard work than any sloth, he was an old-fashioned kind of healthy. Like the younger mare he had violet eyes, but like previous cues, they were filled with much more kindness and sympathy than his companion. As if to compliment that as well as off-set his clear build, he was a comforting shade of pink, and his short-cropped mane consisted of a happy combination of green, blue, and yellow. The whole guy beamed a kind of sugar cookie niceness and gentility, Willow guessing you could probably punch the guy and not earn even a violent look back, and his striped apron and cutie mark of what appeared to be a small train next to two large cubes allowed the artist to guess at his position.
"So, I'm guessing you must be the toy maker?" Willow asked, giving a smile and polite point to the stallion. Spotting a name tag (decorated with teddy-shaped stickers) attached to the strap of his apron, Willow read aloud: "Mister Fortunato?"
Smiling back, Mr. Fortunato the pony toy maker said what sounded like fond greetings and gave Willow's hoof a strong, but genial, shake, as well as daring to smooth a few loose hairs on Willow's head in a fatherly fashion. Turning to the mare, he said something inquisitive, expecting her to translate.
"He says it's very nice to meet you, and that you look like a porcelain sailor boy doll," the mare translated, now busy picking up her spilled cookies from when Willow had jumped her. Feeling bad, he made a move to help her, but one look from her suggested he'd helped quite enough for one day. She gently set the plate aside on the floor once done, safe from any extra spill incidents.
"O... kay," Willow answered, smiling and nodding to Mr. Fortunato to indicate understanding, the latter of which returned the gesture with clear glee. "And, what's your name?"
"Alma," Mr. Fortunato answered, gesturing to the female pony himself. "Is eh... daw-tur."
"Daw-tur?" Willow raised an eye before understanding. "Oh, daughter! You're father and daughter?"
The mare, whose name was Alma, gave a beat. "... Yes."
Those were odd names for ponies. They sounded more human than Equestrian, the latter of which's tradition was based more in more blunt, literal language rather than the more complex etymology of humanity's naming process. No matter though!
"Well, my name is Willow Streaks," he finally managed to get out, smiling at them both. "But you can just call me Willow! I'm, uh, sorry to have taken you by surprise. It's just I haven't really seen any other ponies in a really long time. Some children told me about you guys and, well, I just wanted to say hi. How did you guys get here, from Equestria, I mean?"
Here, Alma slowly and critically raised an eye.
"From what?" she asked, giving Willow a sidelong glance.
"Equestria," Willow raised a hood and smiled in explanation, as if it were obvious. "You know, pony country. Princess Celestia and Princess Luna." His expression fell. "... Equestria?"
"We come from no pony's country," Alma stated bluntly, crossing her forelegs in front of her.
"But how is that possible?" Willow asked, bringing his hoof to his mouth with noticeable shock. Perhaps it was rude of him, but still. Giovenith and others had made it very clear in the past that they knew of no sentient ponies in their own world.
Still concerned, Mr. Fortunato asked Alma something in his own tongue, which Alma responded to him in as well fluently. This only further set off the confusion in Willow's head, as he only now just realized how strange it was that the toy maker wouldn't be able to speak English if were from Equestria, where it stood as the primary language.
"He wants to know if you would like to sit and talk for a short while," Alma translated, picking her plate of cookies.
"Oh," Willow took a quick sweep of the room and all it's refugees. He supposed if he was very quick it couldn't hurt, as it would be rude to say no. "Sure, yes, very fast. I'd love to get to know you, but I'm one of this Building's workers."
"I understand that," Alma said, and despite her bluntness, Willow felt she really did. Propping her plate between her teeth, she lead the way for the two stallions, stopping at a small spot they'd made for themselves with a blanket and a small box of first aid they'd probably acquired from one of Giovenith's paper dolls.
Flying over to settle at the edge of the blanket, Willow looked at the two. "You both seem well-adjusted despite the... chaos."
"Mhmm," Alma grumbled in response, apparently now more focused on her cookies than her guest.
"Hurt at all?" Willow inquired, giving a critical sidelong glance.
"Father got his back leg scraped, but he will be fine," she said, briefly flicking a look at the older pony, who confirmed his condition with a pleasant nod.
"But not you?" Willow asked.
Slowly, Alma raised her gaze to meet the pegasus', it seeming to sharpen despite the rest of her expression remaining still and blunt as a rock. "I'm fast."
Something about that very simple statement said, Don't ask more about it, and Willow caught on. "I can tell," he said, rubbing his shoulder again. "So, you guys are not from Equestria, huh?"
"Never heard of such a place," the daughter answered, handing her father a few cookies, as he was content to let her do the talking.
"I don't mean to be offensive, but I didn't think ponies could come from anywhere but Equestria."
"Ever been to a farm?"
"I mean like... people-ponies, like us, not the glassy-eyed animal-ponies."
"Hm."
They lapsed into another awkward silence as Alma busied herself with her treats, still with dry regard for the pegasus. As if expecting Willow's potential discomfort, Mr. Fortunato gently placed a hoof on his shoulder with reassurance, as if to say, It's okay, she is this way for everypony. Nothing personal. The artist smiled back, and asked, "Then where are you from?"
"As of from now on, here." The half-answer rang with a dark note much like her comment about being fast, and Willow grabbed onto THAT cue too. Alma clearly wasn't the auto-biographical type. He knew he was not obligated to her life story and would not push for it if she didn't want to share, but my oh my. And people thought Willow was dry and cynical. Other than the straight answers she gave him, there was little on her own part to build-upon the talk, so Willow just kept going.
"What's your store called?"
" 'Rainbow Bridge Toy Shop.' "
"That's cute. You two make all the toys yourself?"
"Father does."
"And you?"
"Desk. Translation."
"Right. If you're not from Equestria, does Celestia at least still protect you anyway?"
"Who?"
Dear lord! That was probably the most disturbing of all to Willow, ponies who were not aligned with Princess Celestia. Was... that even legal, or...? "Princess Celestia, along with her sister Princess Luna and her niece Princess Mi Amore Cadenza, they rule Equestria. I, guess you wouldn't know that though... they live and rule forever, and everypony loves and listens to them wholly, Celestia especially. She rules the day and controls the sun, and Luna controls the moon and night, and I think Mi Amore Cadenza specializes in love, but she also rules the Crys-"
"Politicians and gods?" Alma looked skeptical.
"... Yes?"
"Isn't that a cult of personality?"
"No," Willow protested, shaking his head. "Cults of personality are for when you're not a real god, just a narcissist figure. There's a difference."
Alma gave a look that intensified in it's critique, which may have been easier for anyone besides an Equestrian to decipher. Real god. The other Residents were eternal in their tolerance and deserved praise for such, but there was generally a reason why the rest of the world regarded those who viewed their Kings and Queens as God on Earth with a critical suspicion. Willow didn't seem like an insane fanatic, but you couldn't always immediately tell, could you?
"Are you the only other ponies here?" Willow asked, feeling a bit of hype again.
"Yes."
"Oh, well, did where you came from before also have more ponies?"
"Yes."
"Oh, that's... good!" And more strange than ever. "But none of them knew of Equestria or Celestia either?"
"No."
"Oh."
Mr. Fortunato broke in again upon sensing the awkward, circular nature of the conversation, handing Willow a cookie and saying more. Alma translated: "You can come over and talk any time, and do be sure to purchase something for any children you know and want to spoil."
"That is very kind of you," Willow nodded, deciding the father of the duo was his favorite. "And I just want to say please, don't worry about any of these mishaps, the people of the Building are some of the most experienced, and well-dedicated forces I know. If anypony is capable of helping and protecting your home, it's them. Even if they do seem strange from time to time..." He stood up and hopped into the air. "But now, I really must be off. It was nice... talking, and I do hope we can meet up again sometime. I have a feeling we'll be sticking around this place for a while."
Mr. Fortunato waved off pleasant partings to the pegasus, whereas Alma took the opportunity to seemingly forget about the exchange and curl up for a possible nap. Willow waved back, remarking on the fellow ponies' welcomed oddities the whole time, and flew back to his usual work.
