Semantics

by Claw in Cursive

Rating: everyone
Tags: Princess Celestia, Slice of Life, Princess Luna, Applejack, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Rainbow Dash, Comedy, Rarity
Length: 1063

What's the harm in a choice of words between friends?

Rainbow Dash and Rarity are filling out an application for a new service. When they reach a certain question, they can't agree on the correct answer. Who's right, who's wrong, and why does it matter?

Published 2019-12-07 01:00:01 UTC
Last updated 2019-12-07 01:00:01 UTC

What's in a name?

Semantics

By Claw in Cursive

Rarity and Rainbow Dash sat in the breakfast nook at Carousel Boutique. Breakfast sat uneaten on the countertop. Strewn across the table were identical forms from a new company based in Fillydelphia. The name “Hoofmates” was printed in large-font, boldfaced Equestrian across the top of each, and below the name was the company logo, two forelegs entwined at the hoof, superimposed over a heart.

Half of the forms featured rounded curlicues and sweeping curves, and the other half jagged lines, peaks and valleys. Anypony who knew these two could tell which mare handled which application.

“Oh, this is so exciting, darling!” said Rarity.

“Yeah!” Rainbow replied. “A special spell which can match a pony to their perfect mate based on some simple questions is so rad!”

“Never in my wildest dreams could I hope to have such a database at my hooftips.”

The pair had filled out a form for each of their friends and some of their single acquaintances – except for Fluttershy. They’d agreed nopony needed a new age of chaos created by a certain jealous draconequus. The last happened to be the most illustrious of their candidates – the Princess of Friendship, Twilight Sparkle.

Name, address, occupation, age, gender, coat, mane and eye color had been filled out, and now came the question of race. As there were only five alicorns in existence, and two of those consisted of a married mare and an infant, and the others were the god-rulers of Equestria, the only choices were earth pony, unicorn and pegasus. The friends shared a glance and nodded.

“Winged unicorn,” said Rarity.

“Horned pegasus,” simultaneously said Rainbow.

Eyes narrowed and brows lowered as they glared at each other.

“Twilight was born an unicorn,” growled Rarity, “so that should be the base of her racial identity.”

“And she evolved into a pegasus,” snarled Rainbow, “so that’s what she is now.”

“Just because she sprouted some feathers doesn’t make her a pegasus.”

“Just because she didn’t lose the horn doesn’t make her a unicorn!”

Rarity sniffed. “That doesn’t make sense – and it’s an unicorn, not uh unicorn.”

“Your – face – doesn’t make sense!” retorted Rainbow.

The mares met muzzle-to-muzzle and showed their teeth over the incomplete application.

“That’s what an uncouth pegasus would say,” sneered Rarity.

Jeered Rainbow, “And that’s what a stuck-up unicorn would say.”

At that moment, an unlucky Applejack wandered into the nook.

“Hey, Rarity. Th’ door was open, so Ah invited myself in. Ah brung some a’ my work duds to get a mite of a mend, an’ –”

The workhorse found herself accosted by her two best friends.

“Tell her,” Rainbow spat, pointing at Rarity with an accusing wing, “that Twilight’s a horned pegasus!”

“Inform her,” snapped Rarity, jabbing her horn in Rainbow’s direction, “that Twilight is a winged unicorn!”

AJ blinked. “Ah kinda fancy her a magical flyin’ earth pony.”

The two combatants looked nonplussed.

“Now that’s just absurd,” said Rarity.

“Totally bonkers,” said Rainbow. “Figures an earth pony would come up with something kooky like that.”

“Indeed. Let’s get back to the task at hoof.”

“We’ll cross out all three and put in alicorn. Let them deal with it.”

“Quite.”

Applejack scowled and turned her tail to the pair. She stormed out of the boutique muttering under her breath about pegasi and unicorns not respecting everything earth ponies do for all ponykind.

A few hours earlier, shortly after dawn, two examples of the aforementioned equine subset sat at the table in the breakfast nook, nicknamed the Cookie Nook, at Canterlot Castle. Princess Celestia and Princess Luna each had a stack of a half-dozen pancakes slathered in butter and maple syrup in front of her. Celly sipped a cup of strong coffee, and Luna nursed a mug of chamomile tea. Each considered her own unfinished Hoofmates application to the side.

“So, what did you put for your race?” asked Luna.

Celestia shrugged. “Just to mess with the algorithm, I wrote freak.”

“In bed, maybe.”

The two mares cackled and shared a high hoof.

A few months earlier…

Lovelorn and Checkmark sat side by side at the table they salvaged from the trash in the dusty storefront they’d rented with the last of their bits in downtown Fillydelphia. The only thing on the table – indeed, the only thing in the shop besides the table, the stallions and the low stools they sat on – was a single legal pad covered with doodles, drawings and text.

Six months prior, Lorn had been cleaning the bathroom. As he was dusting the top of the overhead tank for the toilet, the earth pony had slipped and hit his head on the sink. When his pegasus roommate, Mark, brought him around, Lorn had a brilliant idea.

What if there were a way to help all the mateless ponies around Equestria by making a long list of stallions and mares, then matching them up with each other based on their interests?

Over the next few months, the pair worked out the kinks in their plan. Early on, they determined they’d need some magic to make the dream a reality. They found the perfect third cog in the machine in a filly named This or That, fresh out of Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns.

Now, the plan hinged upon making the perfect form. It had to be general enough to apply to anypony, yet specific enough to match two individuals. It also had to be easily parsed for Hattie’s spell to work.

Mark dragged a hoof down his face. “Why does it matter what type of cupcake a pony likes?”

“There’s a mare in Ponyville who swears it’s crucial to matchmaking,” Lorn replied. “What I don’t get is the importance of a pony’s manestyle.”

“Funny you should mention Ponyville. There’s another mare from that town who would be scandalized if that question wasn’t somewhere on the form.”

“We have to shorten some of these other questions, though, or else it’ll be too long and complex for the average pony to fill out.”

“Let’s get rid of the bulk in some of these general knowledge items.”

“Agreed.” Lorn tracked down the test application with the pencil in his mouth. “How about race? There’s only the three, after all.”

Mark chuckled. “Thank goodness for small miracles. Nopony should disagree about that.”