Pale on Blue

The mare sighed, sliding the bits across the counter and taking her produce. She smiled a little and tucked the three delicious-looking honeycrisp apples into her saddlebag with her wing, blowing a lock of her dull brown mane out of her eyes.

"Thank you, Mr. Macintosh," she said.

"Eeyup," the crimson-coated stallion replied with a breif nod.

With another smile and a wave, the mare - though she could barely be reffered to as such - trotted across the square, mostly empty aside from fiery-hued leaves drifting lazily down from the mostly bare trees, over to Sugarcube Corner, intent on a mug of Pinkie Pie's famous hot chocolate.

"Hello Miss Pie," she said shyly as she approached the mini-bar and sat in one of the high stools. "how much would it be for some hot cocoa?"

The energetic pink mare popped up from behind the counter, cotton-candy hair bouncing as she lunged forward, a wide grin on her face. "Hi! I've never seen you before! Also, it's three bits! How do you know my name? What's your name?"

The young pegasus mare shrunk back a little bit at the intensity of the pink party-pony's greeting. "Uh... Everypony knows your name, Miss Pie. My name's Ink Drop." She pulled the required amount of bits out of her saddlebag and gave them to Pinkie. "I'd like a hot chocolate," Ink added with a sheepish grin.

"Cool!" said Pinkie, "What's your cutie mark for? Mine's for throwing parties!"

Ink blushed, fluttering her oversized wings awkwardly, "I draw and write, and sometimes sing." She chewed her lip thoughtfully, "So I guess my special talent is art?"

"That is super funeriffic!" Pinke exclaimed with a playful smile, sliding a steaming mug of hot chocolate to Ink. "Can I call you Inkie? What's your middle name? Mine's Diane, Pinkamina Diane Pie!"

"Sure," Ink replied, promtly blushing, "it's Kathryn..." As soon as she processed what Pinkie had just said, her face lit up, "I'm not the only one with a weird middle name! I used to get teased real bad for that!"

Pinkie Pie grinned wider, "Really? Same here! Can you believe it? Our nicknames rhyme too! Pinkie and Inkie! Or Inkie and Pinkie!" The cotton-candy earth pony giggled with a slight snort, and Ink couldn't help but laugh along.

Ink took an eager gulp of the steaming beverage before her, not caring as it scalded her tongue and throat. "Not to be rude or anything," said Ink, "but what's up with all the questions?"

Pinkie giggled again with a mischievous grin, "Silly Inkie," she exclaimed, "I gotta know everything I can about everypony so I can properly party-plan!"

"Okay," said Ink, more or less okay, "and please, my friends call me K."

"Okie-Dokie-Lokie!" Pinkie replied with a grin, bouncing off into the bakery's kitchen.

Ink couldn't help but facehoof. "Bye, Pinkie." she called into the kitchen, "I'll see you around, okay?"

"Okay... K.!" There was a snort of laughter from the depths of the bakery, "Heheheha! It rhymes!" as Pinkie Pie laughed at her own (not really that funny) joke.

Just a sandwich short of a picnic, and crazy, that one, Ink thought as she adjusted her saddlebags so they rested comfortable between her wings, but what would everypony do without her, I wonder?

Ink, or K. rather, trotted in the general direction of her home, the sweet taste of chocolate still thick on her tongue. She began to sing quietly to herself;

There, ain't no birds, and there, ain't no bees,

Who would dare to sing the same song as me,

But that ain't half-bad,

As those cardboard trees,

Starin' down, growin' wire,

Find'n my stage fright

They all say, 'you ain't gonna win,'

And I just cry out, oh, 'why can't I just fit in?'

But that ain't half bad,

As the perpetual fight within,

Growin' big, cannot slow,

And even though-oh-oh,

There, ain't no birds, and there, ain't no bees,

Who would dare to sing the same song as me,

That, ain't half-bad,

As those cardboard trees,

Starin' down, growin' wire,

Find'n my stage fright...

K. found herself trailing off as she trotted down the dusty dirt road, the crisp late-autumn air cleansing in her lungs. She couldn't keep the spring out of her step, but the minuscule joy was quickly cut off,

"Quite a beautiful voice you have there," said a voice. It was obviously male, smooth and silky, but to the point of stupid fakeness. "I wonder what else that beautiful face hides."

K. jumped, "What?" she spun around to see a stallion with a pure white coat, blue eyes and a blue-streaked mane and tail. He was wearing the signature gold armor of Celestia's royal guard that covered his cutie mark. "What do you want?"

"My name is Silver Gloss," said the unicorn stallion, "and I have a few questions for you, if that's not a problem."

"What kinds of questions?" K. asked, narrowing her eyes.

"Nothing much," Gloss replied, "I'm just asking everypony I can find. A survey, of sorts."

"Alrighty then," said K. "shoot."

Gloss nodded to himself, pulling a clipboard out of his saddlebag and reading from it, "Okay, have you ever been diagnosed with any kind of mental disorder and/or disease?"

"Aren't those the same thing?" K. asked, arching an eyebrow, "And no, I have not."

"Good," said Gloss, "and do you know anypony with any kind of mental disorder and/or disease?"

K. giggled, "Does Pinkie Pie count?"

"No."

"Really?"

Gloss chuckled, "Really, it's been specified not to bother with her."

"Oh, okay then."