“Aurum, wife of a veteran. That’s where she got the gun. Her husband died, her siblings, all of her family died due to diverse reason. Her family’s deaths worsened her mental health. When she was informed of her child’s murder, her last family member, she stopped taking her medication, she didn’t elaborate why.” Alan puts down the folder, “let’s hope she gets better. Sad bunch. But that’s not why you’re here. You made some very stupid decisions, on your first day, no less. You have no qualifications in de-escalation, something you would have learned in the academy. You should have stayed at the sidelines. Yet, you walked directly to a shooter and cried, and somehow succeeded. Why?”

You have no idea. Sitting there in Alan’s office, you feel like you’re standing in front of your disappointed parents. Snowy and Hoax beside you, probably to give out witness testimonies.

Truthfully, you were winging it and hoping you could talk it out.

And it worked. Not how you imagined it. But results speak for themselves, you peacefully deescalated the situation. You should be proud.

“I am sorry.” Not really. “I found out that her child died, and I thought I had an angle to talk it out.” You say, looking down and tipping your hooves at another.

“Let this be a warning for now. I’m lax. That’s probably why our citizen’s militia soviet voted me as precinct chief. Just, do as you’re commanded, understood, comrade?”

You salute.

Police don’t salute.

Alan approves of the gesture, you can feel Hoax roll her eyes.

You only got a slap on the knee. Your forgotten stories of unpunished police misconduct. It’s not that bad if happens to you.

“That’s that.” Alan says, “see you tomorrow.” You all three exit the office before you go last Alan stops you, “oh, wait. One small question. Sorry, for the sudden change of topic. I am getting desperate in finding someone. Do you play tabletop?”

The sudden whiplash of topics puts your brain on hold. “What?”

“Roleplay. I have been trying to get anyone to play with me. I asked the whole office. No one wants to play with me.”

Should you play games with your boss? That sounds painful – lame even. That’s pet behavior. However, your boss is actually tolerable, unlike most bosses.

There’s nothing to add.

“Sure.”

“Finally. Hey, if you could invite some more, we could actually play a game. I’m going to explain everything, don’t worry, I’ll do the work. You get the friends. ”

You two talked out to set a place and date later. You have her number. Finally, another friend to your collection – Your boss.

Prior to walking back homewards you converse with your work wives.

“Tovarish, what did she tell you? Did she give you a punishment after all?” asks Snowy.

“No, no. Hay, are you two interested in playing some roleplaying games.”

“Not this again. She already asked. We are not playing some kid’s game.” Says Hoax, “that’s completely unprofessional. Don’t tell me you are actually going to play with Alan.”

Snowy says, “I don’t think that’s for me.”

“First of all, it’s not a kid’s game.” You say. No it’s a very adulty game, for ponies with big, wrinkly brains.

Think. What does Hoax prioritize? How can you convince her?

She is a workhorse.

You can do the same thing you did with Four-leafed Clover. Then you can easily convince Snowy.

“Hoax, I understand the job is very important. And that’s exactly why we should play together.” You say, “We need to develop camaraderie. When all know each other better, we can all work more efficiently. And a game is the perfect way of doing that.”

The clocks turn in Hoax’s head “,fine, I can come.”

You continue, “and, Snowy, you only need to come once. If you don’t like it, you don’t need to continue. Just try it.” She doesn’t look convinced. “Hoax, your dear comrade is joining. You can do something together with Hoax.”

Her eyes widen, a little bit, but enough for her to catch your innuendo, “I can try it.”

“Nice. I’ll call when I find out a good place.”

“Lionheart, do you want to join a tabletop game.” He is hunched over the table.

He is writing something, deeply concentrating putting ink on paper.

Spy. Look what he is writing, see who is writing to, fill your desire for drama.

“Lionheart.”

“Huh? What?”

“Who are you writing to?”

“A friend.”

A friend? Does this mean he’s already taken? Woe is you. “Do you want to play tabletop.”

He turns towards you, not concentrating on the words coming from you, and shrugs, “sure.”

“Great!”

Buddy, why stop here? You can organize a whole crowd! AN ARMY. You are going to organize the biggest nerdfest in Stalliongrad.

“Lionheart, I am going to make some calls.”

“Are ye seriously calling me because ye want to play a children’s game?”

“Four, I’m sure we’re going to have fun. It’s just a neat way to make new acquaintances. And if you don’t like the game, you can at least say you tried it.

What’s the worst that could happen?”

She gives you a response you’re all too familiar with, initial disapproval. But after some murmuring on the other end of the line you hear, “Ye right.” She takes her time to think. “I’ll come.”

“Hey, Warm, care to play TTRPG with some other creatures.”

“I have no idea what a Tea Tee Arh Pee Gee is, but it sounds fun.”

There is one last creature remaining that you have to visit. You already left your apartment and let Lionheart write his poem, or whatever it is.

Now, onto old, new adventures. You need to meet up with Spooky. You don’t have her number – and she is forcing you – maybe? – she is giving you mixed messages. Either way, this is a good opportunity to ask her if she also wants to join.

You already have too many creatures invited. You don’t even know if it is a good idea to invite her. She and Alan wouldn’t mix, and she and Lionheart have bad history.

Oh, you’re sure they’ll be just fine. They are adults… actually you have no idea how old any of them are, but they are probably all adults.

Yes, they are.

Listen, no problem-o, boy-o. You continue the way through what could be described as a commercial district. It is much the same as an Equestrian one, sans the advertisement, and the lack of goods like bananas.

And now you have the mystical tokens to exchange for goods and services.

Your not so little eyes spy a scarf. Oh, it is not just any scarf – not a ‘it’s only purpose is to keep you warm’ scarfs.

It’s a *gay* shawl.

Weak ponies would look upon it and say it’s too colorful or get epileptic seizures. But not you. It is calling for you. You need to communicate to the world your gayness; you are the uber-gay, after all.

You need not fall into this commercial trap. What you are isn’t determined by a piece of clothing or your appearance.

Besides, it makes you look like a goofy clown.

You *are* a goofy clown. A gay, goofy clown-cop. Get that character-building piece of cloth, comrade. Even the communistiest communist falls trap to consumerism. Why should you be the exception?

Yeah, it’s time to fetishize the commodity.

You’re sold. Taking the scarf, your money and the body decoration exchange hooves. Now, you are the proud owner of one piece of garment.

You wear it.

Do you feel it? Yes, it is exactly that. You are practically oozing queerness.

You repeat the experience of visiting Spooky Lefty. The differences strike you immediately.

Her eyes are bloodshot; the hair is frazzled, a sign of stress; she is concentrating her attention to the coffee cup in her hooves, it is already cold, she is lost in thought unlike her usual aware behavior; she is tapping her hindlegs on the floor in a nervous tick; she clearly had a hard day– strings of her mane are sticking to her face.

In other words, she looks bad. Unkempt – she could be kindred.

She notices you. “Gteetingy, Lost.” Her eyes shortly pause at your scarf, but she decides not to comment.

“Hi.” You take a seat at her table. “Are you okay?”

She waves her hooves dismissively, “I had a normal workday.”

“Then I really fear what a normal workday looks for you.” You doubt that. “Technically, I had my first workday, from my viewpoint, and it isn’t exactly what I would consider normal … I hope. I really hope,” you are jinxing yourself, “forget what I said.”

“Oh, do, please, tell.”

She sees it as an opportunity to distract herself. “It wasn’t that spectacular.” You tap your hooves together. “There was this mare who shot around in a psychotic break. I then cried in front of her… it worked.” You throw her a charming pose.

“You also are not that much in a good shape. Such a confrontation can put mental pressure on you. Are you sure you do not need any help? Besides have you visited a hospital?”

It’s your turn to dismiss your problems, “my doctor friend said I’ll be fine.”

Your doctor said you’re good enough to work. Not that you’re fine.

A moment passes, none of you say anything. The café, the central plaza, it is all the same, a busy place with diversity of creatures walking by. It smells the same as any other place in the city. You should ask her for the game.

It doesn’t feel right to ask her now.

Eventually, she breaks, “Lost, can I tell you some things.”

Be the shoulder she can cry on.

That’s perfect, let her emotion dump on you. It will make her like you more. “Sure, shoot. What got you riled up.”

Despite her unreadable face, she seems thankful, she begins her story--

Author's Note

I wanted to bring this lax, little chapter out sooner, then I got hospitalized. My motivation was a bit lacking after that.

What I meant to write, I was busy crashing the stock market.

But now I can focus on the meaningful things on life, my little pony fanfiction. Because what more is there than to divert your energy and time, and distract yourself to a completely temporary, commercialized franchise, instead of using it for something material.

Also the next chapter is going to be big.