An Affluent Zebra

When Ronnie spoke to the Chief about how one might go about establishing some form of contact, Ronnie was expecting an uphill battle every inch of the way. And, yes, it would be one. Even with Zharris carving her own path from her side of the Portal, there was a lot of red tape to be covered when it came to personal, interplanetary relationships. As of right now, almost everything that happened between the Portal was sanctioned by entire governments or groups, with their recent trip being turned into a relations-boosting event. Not to mention a lot of unknown tape yet to be drawn across yet equally unknown boundaries -- though to his surprise, it turns out he wasn't the only one who formed an interest in the other side of the portal. A few of the other, single guys were speaking a similar interest in getting across the portal again, following some... choice interactions at the party. Looks like a few of the mares had wriggled their way into human hearts, and the additional voices that wanted to get back across to see those same mares only added to his own.

Though, none of them were from Farasi. That extra trouble was Ronnie and Zharris' alone to tackle.

Mister Banks, who was exuberant upon hearing of their interest in a continued interaction from a portal-passed letter, was more than happy to relay the departments interests to the Canterlot Royalty. Managing to grease enough hooves, fatten enough pockets, and making a surprisingly heartfelt speech at an inter-portal streamed speech to get a favorable word and a meeting with several higher-ups of both nations. Expressing his enthusiastic reaction to the positive outcomes of the event hosted on his estate grounds, and the step forward in interspecies opinions that occurred from such unbridled mingling.

Every week, for months, Ronnie wasn't alone as they would continue to bug the Chief for any updates. For any letters, for anything.

For the others, it was a bit easier being located in Canterlot. Ronnie's case might have had a hiccup, with his particular interest being in Farasi, across the water. But Mister Banks again proved himself an appreciative and gracious benefactor. Personally footing -- or hoofing -- the means to keep Ronnie and Zharris in contact, claiming he was simply happy that Zharris had 'truly enjoyed one of his events, for once'.

Lumbridge City, America | The Lunchroom of Station 37 | 4 Months Later

"Ronnie." Jacob leans in the doorway, knocking on the wall.

"Huh?" Ronnie glances up from the couch, midway through his lunch.
"What's up, Zebra?" Ronnie barely manages to say, a grin cracking on his face before ducking -- a clipboard flying over his head, clattering to the floor.

"I told you I'm gonna kick your ass if you keep that nickname up. I already kicked David's shit in for it, and I'll get you next." Jacob warns sternly, though he's having trouble hiding his own grin. Considering the attention he got during the party, Jacob didn't seem to mind the nickname all that much.

"Sorry, sorry." Ronnie laughs, holding his hands up in surrender. Jacob rolls his eyes, carrying on.

"Speaking of Zebra's... you've got a visitor." Is all he says, before ducking back out into the hall.

Ronnie freezes. A... visitor? Not a letter? His eyes widen, a smile taking his face.

Jacob flinches as Ronnie suddenly vaults the couch and barrels down the hall, watching him leave his lunch behind.

"...If you're not gonna finish it..." Jacob smirks, stepping back into the lunchroom.

Ronnie clears the firehouse in near record time as he reaches the reception desk, sliding to a stop, panting heavily. The Chief, leaning against the desk, looks up from the striped visitor.
"I'm just gonna tell you someone with stripes is here to see you whenever there's a fire. Never seen you bust so much ass." The Chief laughs as Ronnie enters the room.

It's a sturdy, but stern looking Zebra stallion, his mane tied back into a braid. He's got the same strikingly bright-purple eyes of Zharris, which feel like they're burning a hole through him. He offers no words yet, only looking over Ronnie with a judgemental glare. He's got a Saddlebag on his back... and an escort of another pair of Zebra's waiting just outside, donning cloaks. Ronnie glances between the two as breath manages it's way back into his lungs, confused.

"Not who you were expecting?" The Chief ribs, nudging Ronnie's shoulder before nodding to the stranger.
"Don't keep him waiting. You'll like this." He says to the Zebra, nodding at Ronnie.

The Zebra steps forward, rummaging a letter out of his pack, and presenting it with his teeth.
"Mister Harrelson?" He asks, staring expectantly. It feels very formal.

Ronnie quickly stands straighter, wiping crumbs off his shirt.

"Oh, thanks." Ronnie mumbles, holding it up. Unlike a letter in an envelope he might have been expecting, it's a rolled up parchment with a rough texture, bound together with a red seal. He pops open the wax with a thumb, eyes widening as it unfurls to reveal it's contents.

~~~

Mister Harrelson,

Firstly, I would like to apologize for being unable to send anything until now. I know it has been some time since we have last seen the other. I hope you, and Jiggles, are faring well.

While I'm still in the process of procuring myself a 'Computer', I've managed to get a hoof onto the negotiations for the first Equestrian branch of 'the internet'. Apparently, they're to do trials of seeing how it reacts to Equus' magic, and if cable and tower can be constructed in Equestria with Equestrian materials, or if it must be imported. I'm actually serving on the Farasian council in talks to getting a deep-sea cable ran to Farasi, alongside several other nations that rest across the water from Equestria -- your explanations made it incredibly easy to quantify and break it down for the other members to understand how it works, and for that, you have my deepest thanks. Perhaps we can send 'Electronic Letters' soon? Though, do not worry about that now. That is for the future, if time demands we spend more of it apart.

As for the present, merely sending letters is not the sole purpose of me sending my assistant, Zabra, with this message. Believe me, I would have been endeared to deliver this missive myself, but the process to get oneself through the portal is still a significant ordeal, and I couldn't spend that much time away from my business. Mister Banks has been very kind in assisting with this endeavor, actually. Without him, I fear this attempt would still be floating in the perpetual red-tape of international requests. He continues to joke that his last event was his best, since I 'actually partook' this time. I believe he is waiting until he can get more humans for his next party, since they were 'such a hit' in his words.

What I wanted to present you with, which Zabra currently carries on his pony, is an invitation. It was no small hoofwork to secure it, but I am glad to be the one to present it to you, even if it is through words upon parchment. Is a Portal-Pass. They are beginning a program to allow individuals, both Pony and Human, to cross between the Portal if they hold one of these, as long as it's within the designated time frame, purposes, and a state-approved reasoning. It's all still in the works, something apparently based off of Earth's approach to borders, but I'm proud to be the one to invite you to join me, in Farasi. Worry not about the reason the Portal-Pass states, I will explain it all when you arrive. Transportation from the Portal, a train ticket to one of Equestria's coastal cities, and a ferry ticket across the water, has already been handled. Zabra will be your guide through these endeavors. He understands the importance of this. Of you, to me.

I understand this may be sudden, and may not work entirely, as I'm still unsure of how your Earthly obligations may affect this... but I do hope to see you again, soon.

I'll be waiting for you.

Yours,
Zharris

~~~

As Ronnie looks up from the letter, the Zebra -- Zabra -- is holding out a surprisingly official looking pass. It looks laminated, featuring the royal seals of what Ronnie assumes to be both Equestria, and Farasi. Now that he's a name to the face, Ronnie recognizes the Zebra from the last moments he spent with Zharris those months ago.

As Ronnie takes it, he slowly looks over it in his hands, glancing at the Chief.
"I... think I'll be cashing in my vacation days."

"Won't need to. As of today, you're on semi-permanent leave." The Chief retorts, reaching around the reception desk to rifle around for something.

"...Huh?" Ronnie mutters, confused as he watches the Chief produce another paper.

"That pass comes with the title of E.P.O.I." The Chief explains, crossing his arms and reading from the page.
"An Earth Person Of Interest. You're going to get trained by the staff at the Portal for interplanetary conduct, and will be a representative of Earth to the nation of Farasi. Basically, we have no idea how long that's going to take, so we're putting you on leave for now, but there's a few others serving the same thing for other interactions they've had. I believe there's three for Equestria, two for Griffonia -- one one for Farasi. You."

"So, do I still have a job? Or how does that work?" Ronnie questions, a little overwhelmed at the sudden turn.

"Sure, if you ever come back." The Chief jokes, laughing.

Zabra clears his throat, gaining their attention.
"Miss Zharris has assured that any and all needs will be compensated entirely by herself, personally. Any questions you have are best saved for the Officers at the portal, since your case is... unique."

"Unique?" Ronnie parrots, confused.

"The others that are being considered for this program are getting visitor passes to Canterlot, so they may see their... interests on their off time. You, however, will be the first human to set foot in Farasi. There's quite a few hurdles involved in that." Zabra explains.
"Talk and trot?"

Ronnie can imagine. It's a little nerve-wracking, this sudden role he just got thrust into.

... Or is he just excited to see Zharris again?

...

"You have about a day to pack. They will wait outside, but I will remain with you to ensure you've everything you need." Zabra explains, trotting up the steps behind Ronnie.

"Oh, you don't have to..." Ronnie tries to deflect while rustling around for his keys.

"It was Miss Zharris' direct request. No room for negotiating." Zabra snips firmly, putting the matter to rest.

Ah. Explains why he's been glued to Ronnie's side, despite looking like he wants nothing to do with him.

Watching the other two Zebra's post up at the bottom of the stairs, Ronnie finally digs out his keys before he manages the door to his apartment, stepping aside as Zabra helps himself inside, still speaking.

"You will need to pack several things of clothes, and any other mandatory supplies you may need. This trip is expected to last at least a month, and that does not include travel time. While the Equestrian rail system is adequate, naval travel will --"

"Mrrrooooow."

Zabra snaps to a stop, confusion contorting his face as the door swings open, revealing the apartment's sole occupant. A fluffy, orange striped cat that blinks expectantly at the pair, sat on the floor.

"...What in Tartarus is that?" He scoffs, leaning around Ronnie as he steps around the paused Zebra, to see better.

Ronnie leans down, scratching Jiggles between the ears as he steps back inside the comfort of his abode.
"Jiggles, my cat. Come on in, he won't bite. Though he may nibble." Ronnie waves Zabra to join him, slumping his lunchbag on the table.

Zabra tentatively steps inside the relatively small living space, shutting the door firmly with his back hoof. Every passing moment, he wondered more and more why Miss Zharris chose...

Ronnie has Jiggles lifted in the air, wiggling him back and forth, putting the cats paws on his face.

... This one, out of all of her options. Zabra shakes his head, trying to remain professional, despite wondering if she'd been coerced or tricked.

A loudly cleared throat gets Ronnie's attention, glancing over from underneath furred feet smushing his face.
"Please try to focus, Mister Harrelson. You're only allowed a limited capacity of luggage, and try to remember you'll be beheld to significant distance to travel. Pack what you need to sustain an extended stay, and little more. Try to leave any..." Zabra trails off, giving Jiggles a disdainful stare.
"...Unnecessary additions to your packing."

...

Ronnie tried offering Zabra a few things. Something to drink, a place to sit, but the guys kind of high strung, and just wanted to stay stood at the doorway to observe.

Nonetheless, Ronnie continues to pack, getting most of what he needs sorted in the living room while he digs through the house, preparing for his 'extended vacation', with Jiggles helping by supervising their striped visitor from the couch. Though Zabra's resilience to the situation doesn't stop Ronnie from throwing a few questions his way even as the Zebra tentatively looks over the strange objects that Ronnie owns.

"You sure you don't want anything? I'm sure I've got something you can eat in there." Ronnie nods the at the fridge, glancing up from a half-packed bag.

"No." Zabra states simply, lip furling at the thought. He doesn't offer anything else, either. Beyond instructing Ronnie, he's not much of one for talking.

"You don't seem terribly excited to be on Earth, if I can say." Ronnie comments, trying to make smalltalk.

"I'm not. This place is... strange, and your people rude. I much prefer Farasi."
Another blunt statement, Zabra avoiding eye contact.

"Guys at the portal give you a hard time?" Ronnie guesses, remembering his first way in. And the way back out. The Ponies still postured, but they were a lot nicer than the human side. Like the TSA on steroids.

Zabra doesn't respond, staring at a few of the pictures posted on Ronnie's fridge. They're all of himself and Jiggles, posed up and facing the camera, Jiggles usually in his arms.

Zabra groans to himself, looking away.
"If you wouldn't mind focusing on your packing, Mister Harrelson. There isn't much time for questions or chatter."

"Sure there is." Ronnie retorts with a resounding zip of one of his bags, tossing it towards the door.
"I pack faster when I'm chatty, just ask Jiggles."

"Ask... the Cat? You're being sarcastic, yes?" Zabda slowly paces out, squinting.

"Mmrrrooooow." Jiggles joins in from his distant, couch-contained place of supervision. It's a crunchy, gravely noise that sounds more like a dying engine than a cat.

"That... I will refrain, thanks." Zabra groans, steeling himself for an entire trip of this.

...

"So, Zabra..." Ronnie suddenly prompts, peeking his head out of the bathroom, in the midst of packing his dental necessities.

"Mm?" Zabra grunts, glancing up. Hes finally sat down, though it's still by the door.

Ronnie's about to ask why his name is so close to Zebra, but realizes that might be... insensitive? He's trying to build a rapport here, anyway.

"How long have you been working with Zharris?" Ronnie quickly switches tracks, going for a broader question.

"Since she began her company." He states firmly -- Ronnie can almost hear the tinge of pride that slips its way into his words.

"First man on the scene?"

"Pardon?"

Right, Pony. Ronnie forgot about all the pony slang over these last few months.

"Ah, like... you're her first employee? Work partner? I don't actually know too much of how Zharris runs her stuff."

"Of course you wouldn't." Zabra scoffs to himself, shifting his hooves.
"Miss Zharris is the head of a large textile operation, and remains quite busy. I assist as her right-hoof, handling any tasks she's unable to complete herself."

"Like fetching the guy she met at a party four months ago." Ronnie leers, grinning.

"...Yes." Zabra grumbles.

"So... secretary?" Ronnie guesses, tossing his toothbrush and such into a baggy.

"No."

"Receptionist?"

"No. Her right-hoof."

"Oh, like, you hold shares in the company?"

"I--" Zabra stutters. That one caught him off guard.
"...Discussions of the Business that Miss Zharris runs are none of your concern, nor will I be imparting anything about it." Zabra shuts it down, looking away.

Further prodding doesn't get much from him, so Ronnie eventually leaves him alone.

...

"Is this everything?" Zabra double-checks, stood on the street outside Ronnie's apartment. There's two suitcases of luggage. One for clothes, one for personables. And a third, a cat carrier, which currently contains a very unbothered Jiggles, who sits on the verge of partaking himself in a nap.

Zabra wasn't too happy when Ronnie packed up the cat, but the Jiggles is non-negotiable.

The other two Zebra look curiously at the carrier, glancing between each-other. They look startlingly similar, the only difference in their choice of attire.

"Yup, that's about it." Ronnie affirms.

"Very well. Zor, Zar, handle the luggage. I assume Mister Harrelson is going to want to handle the feline, so now..." Zabra trails off, pulling a piece of paper from his bag. A very earthly, from a printer-paper.

It looks like a timetable for busses. Who printed that out for him?
"If we leave now, the nearest bus station will take us approximately fifteen minutes to reach, where we'll wait thirty minutes to board one of your Earth buses to the local rail. There, we will procure tickets to the nearest city by the portal, and..."

Ronnie, politely, clears his throat.

Zabra's slow glare works it's way up to Ronnie's face, while the pair of Zebra are trying to figure how to carry luggage that's nearly their size.

"You want to get to New Beetleflak, we don't need to do all that." Ronnie shrugs.

"And how do you propose we get there, then?" Zabra challenges, scrunching up his paper with his hooves. The other two watch curiously.
"This entire trip is the culmination of two straight months of learning Earth customs, just to get you to Miss Zharris. Please, tell me how you're ready to supercede my planning."

"Car." Ronnie shrugs simply.

"...What?" Zabra grunts.

...

The trunk to Ronnie's car slams shut, comfortably fitting his luggage. It'd been sitting a few feet away from them. It wasn't the newest thing, but she got Ronnie to and from the station, and the pet store, reliably enough. A simple four-door for urban cruising.

Zabra looks a little steamed with his carefully-made plans being trodden over by the simple fact that Ronnie owned a vehicle, grumbling to himself. The other two Zebras, Zor and Zar, are keenly interested in it.

"...Do we get in there, with the luggage?" One of them speaks up, surprising Ronnie.

"No, we ride on the inside. It's against the law to keep someone stuck in the trunk."

"Ahhh." They both hum, staring.

"Also, Jiggles is gonna ride in the back with you guys. Just make sure he doesn't rattle around too much, okay?" Ronnie pops the back door open, holding it open for the curious pair. Zabra is doing his best to look disinterested, but Ronnie can see him watching with a poorly hidden side-eye.

Zor carefully climbs in first, nearly hitting their head as they hop in and awkwardly shuffle deeper inside. Zar climbs in much more carefully, unsure if they should be stepping on the floor or the seat. Ronnie answers that question by sliding Jiggles carrier against the floor, behind the drivers seat, leaving the two Zebra... he wants to say twins, they look so similar, to figure out their seating.

"Dont forget your seat belts." Ronnie adds, shutting the door on their confused faces, turning to Zabra.
"And you get shotgun."

"I get what?" Zabra squints, cautiously stepping closer.

Ronnie nods for him to follow, leading him around the car, popping the front passenger door.

Zabra stares inside, squinting.
"...I just get in?"

"Yep, sit down with your back flush against the seat, and get your seat belt on. Or... however is comfortable. I know the seats aren't exactly made for you guys, but as long as you can get the seat belt on, we should be fine." Ronnie explains.

Zabra is cautious, but slowly climbs up into the car, before sitting squarely on his rump. At least he's decisive.

Ronnie finally joins them as he walks around the vehicle, slipping into the drivers seat.

None of them have quite figured out the seat belts yet. Zabra is close, pulling on the strap with his mouth, but the other two in the back are having some trouble. Feeling like a sudden parent, Ronnie leans from his seat to offer some help. For Zabra, it goes relatively unappreciated, getting waved away with a hoof once he's learned where the clip is supposed to go. The other two, not so much -- Ronnie has to take a moment to explain what a seat belt even is, before helping them get secured.

"What is this vehicle?" Zar leans forward against Ronnie's chair, eyes brimming with curiosity as Ronnie buckles in.

"Car. A mode of personal transportation." Ronnie offers.

"Every human has one of these?" Zor chimes in, scooting forward in their chair.

"Good amount of them, yeah. And for those that don't have one, we've got busses. Like a big car, that holds a lot more people." Ronnie continues to explain, the pair in the back listening intently.

"It seems redundant. A proper rail system is truly all a city needs. Any in-city travel should merely be handled on hoof." Zabra imparts, nose upturned.

Ronnie is realizing that ponies are weirdly good at speaking while holding something in their mouths.

"Well, from what I saw, you guys don't build your cities very wide. Not to mention, you guys cover more distance on your legs than we do ours. Human cities are big -- sprawled out, especially American cities. Your cities are more like... European cities, I'd guess."

"Excuse you? I am not peeing."

"No, it's--" Is all Ronnie manages before a snort-laugh escapes him.

"What?" Zabra squints.

The rest of the vehicles occupants are blissfully unaware of just how childish Ronnie's sense of humor can be.

...

"I'm going to be in Farasi for who knows how long. Let me spend some of my Earth-money while I've still got it. Want anything?" Ronnie tuts, lifting his butt up off the seat, producing a wallet from his back pocket. "It's not like we're making bad time or anything."

"No, I do not." Zabra groans, giving up and turning to face out the window, like a scorned girlfriend.

The car slowly inches forward, stuck in the line of the local NickMonalds. Had to have something to eat to remember Earth's egregious love of fast food before he left for Farasi, right? Plus, all this excitement wouldn't do on an empty stomach. Not quite a shared mood, unfortunately.

"Suit yourself." Ronnie shrugs, looking over his shoulder. "You two?"

"...I can get something?" Zor chimes in from the back seat, hooves pressing against the back of Ronnie's seat.

"As might I?" Zar adds, pressing in beside their other, both their noses protruding into Ronnie's peripheral.

"Sure, just look at the board." Ronnie gestures out the window, watching their snouts smush up against the glass. Their excited breaths fog it up, as wide eyes glare over the various, bright options. Combo meals, drinks, snacks and such, all readily available to wow a creature not yet used to sheer capitalism.

The only thing better than watching their server's reaction, was Zabra eventually caving to ordering something under the sheer excitement that was exuding out of Zor and Zar. They're a little shocked by the sheer amount of meat on the menu, but eventually settle on a few different meals, some of their choices surprised Ronnie. Like, Zor wanting chicken nuggets, Zar wanting a fishburger, and Zabra, with some difficulty, asking for a Whomper burger of all things. They even stuck to their choices when Ronnie clarified what they were. Apparently, that opportunistic-carnivore stuff was triggered by drive-thru's.

Their server, some young woman fresh out of highschool, barely managed to recount part of their order as they pulled up to the window.
"That was the... twelve piece, the fishburger meal, the..." She trails off, double-taking as a Zebra waves to her from the back-seat. Ponies were in the news, sure, but people sure as shit weren't used to seeing them out and about like this.

"Yep, that's us." Ronnie holds his card out.

"Why are you paying with a small card? Where is your 'Earth Dollars'?" Zabra whispers to Ronnie, confused.

"The fat American stacks?" Zar chimes in from the back, to Zor's nodding.
"The Moolah?"
"The cold hard cash?"
"The cha-ching?"
"No, we have that one too. That's the sound of the cash register."
"Oop, right."

Ronnie explains debit and credit cards to the Zebras after they've gotten their food, while they eat in the parking lot.

...

From the city Ronnie works in, it's only about a four hour drive from Beetlejak -- from the Portal. Not as bad as it could have been, thankfully. Zor and Zar are entirely passed out in the back seat, snoring loudly atop one another, Jiggles presumably joining them from his carrier. Hard to see from the angle he had Jiggles tucked away.

Zabra, however, did not allow the food to subsume him into a comatose state. While still quite judgy of it's notably weird taste, probably the difference between eating delicious american chemical additives for the first time, he's staring out the window towards the rolling plains they pass, head on his hoof. The radio is quietly playing vague, local rock to keep them entertained. Zabra doesn't seem to mind it.

"So how did you guys get to me, or even find me?" Ronnie asks suddenly, the idea resurging in his head.

Zabra glances over, humming slightly. It seems putting food in his stomach helped make him a little less confrontational, if only a little.
"Miss Zharris got the address of your station from Mister Banks. Once we determined the best route to take with the Portal staff, we trotted there."

"You... walked the four hour drive to my work? From the portal?" Ronnie repeats, surprised.

"That reaction is why we established a route back that included speedier transportation. I'm aware you humans do not walk as much in your societies, with your... vehicles and transportations. As proven by how my plan of convenience was made redundant by even more sheer convenience." His hoof taps the dash of the car.

"Huh. Well, thanks. The thoughts appreciated." Ronnie shrugs, smiling.

"...You are welcome." Zabra returns quietly, watching out the window.

A small moment of silence returns, as they take a winding bend around a small patch of trees that serve as a windbreak around some of the passing, rural homes.

This time, it's Zabra that breaks the quiet.
"Why does Miss Zharris hold such an interest in you?" He suddenly prompts, shifting in his seat to face Ronnie.

"Dunno."

"You don't know why she likes you?"

"You tried asking her yourself?"

"I have. She sighs and gets distracted thinking about you. It impedes her responsibilities."

"Do you have a problem with it because I'm Human, or because she's distracted from her work? Or is there another reason?"

"I..." Zabra blinks, caught off guard.

"You're her... brother, right?" Ronnie takes a quick glance from the road, meeting Zabra's confused stare.

"... I am, yes." Zabra slowly confirms, surprised.
"Who told you?"

"It's the eyes." Ronnie taps his cheek with a finger, pointing to his own.
"Same color as hers."

"You recall such details after knowing her for a day, four months ago?"

"Your family has very striking eyes is all I can say, really. Hard to forget just how brilliant the hue is. No Human eyes have a hue like that."

"So I noticed. Color-wise, your world and its people are very... dull, compared to our home. Even the Abada and Kelpie come in more colors."

"Yeah, we've got nothing on Equestrians."

"Nopony does, they're the extreme. Studies believe their excessive consumption of sugar and lack of predators has granted them a shift towards more unique colorations."

"Can't decide if that sounds like they're dangerous to eat, or they're bright to attract each-other." Ronnie snorts.

When there's no response, he slowly glances over. Zabra is staring at him, brow raised.

"...You know, like how some species are very colorful as a warning to predators not to eat them? Like frogs?" Ronnie tries to explain.

"...I can see why she felt like talking about her bugs." Zabra finally mutters, shaking his head and looking out the window again. This time, there's the smallest smirk on the edge of his lips. Approval? Amusement, at the least. Ronnie can at least take solace knowing whatever issue Zabra takes with him comes from a brotherly concern of her interests and career, rather than a distaste for humans.

The rest of the drive, until the looming, burgeoning metropolis of the recently-erupted Beetlejak City spills into the horizon, is quiet. But it's without tension, Zabra leaning to mess with the radio, showing muted interest.

Maybe they're finally getting along?

"So, Zabs--"

"Do not call me that."

Not quite yet.

...

"Name?"

"Ronnie Harrelson."

"Identification?"

Ronnie rustled out both his drivers license, and the portal pass that Zabra brought him, sliding them across the counter.

It's kind of hard to miss the portal when you reach Beetlejak. An entire tower has been erected around its breadth entirely covering it from the outside and the city that's growing at an alarming rate around it. They even had an underground parking garage where he can leave his car for the duration of his trip. How nice. The place has numerous guards, and enough staff to make it feel like some kind of government ran airport, where the number of people actually taking the plane didn't even hit a single dozen.

They're at a receptionist desk, his bags currently being searched by a few of the guards, the Zebras being processed just across the way from him at another station that staffs a few ponies.

"Did I need my passport? I've got that, too if you do." Ronnie goes to offer, but they hold up a hand.

"Right, Mister Harrelson... no, since only specific individuals can cross, we just need to identify you. Looks like we've got you here for... a long-term trip to Farasi. We'll have to run you through a few courses regarding interportal representation, but otherwise, we should get you handled shortly." The man behind the counter explains, before pulling out an uncomfortably thick stack of paper from behind the desk, and placing a pen on top of it.

"Fill all this out, then we'll get you sorted. Shouldn't be more than a few hours. And don't worry, it seems like a lot because it's handling both sides. Once you're approved here, and head on through, the only reason they'll stop you is to get you where you're meant to be going." He continues, gesturing past Ronnie towards a group of empty tables and chairs."

"Can I ask what I'm signing?" Ronnie is already picking up the stack that would take his attention for the next several hours, but he was still curious.

"Primarily statements that place you as the sole individual at fault if anything befalls you. Foreign diseases, alterations and effects from magical exposure, and so forth. Oh, and an agreement to testify to your experiences and a full body physical. Very few have gone through the portal multiple times, so the data will be invaluable. Oh, and signing off on your emotional support animal, of course."

Jiggles is currently being tested on a nearby table by a guard wearing rubber gloves, taking a catalogue of his health pre-trip. Jiggles couldn't care less, sprawled out, legs in the air.

"Even the Ponies working on this side?" Ronnie asks, surprised. He expected that those working around the portal might see more frequent use.

"They're on strict one-time trips of no more than a few months, at most a year, until we've absolutely confirmed no long term effects. Once they go back, different Ponies are recruited. Same goes on the other side, but as you can see, that's slowly starting to change now that they're considering longer-term and more frequent trips. And you're one of the ones spearheading that shift, Mister Harrelson."

"I guess nobody tells you that spearheading cultural and scientific shifts comes with a lot of paperwork, huh?" Ronnie jokes, adjusting his grasp on paper-pile-zilla.

The man only smiles, before his attention is taken by one of his Pony coworkers who trot over to ask him something, leaving Ronnie to an egregious amount of reading, signing and information giving that simply will not be included at this time.

He does find distraction in watching the very different treatment the Zebras are going through, though. They're getting measured, tested, spitting in a cup -- must be their physical for heading back? Either way, Zabra doesn't seem the biggest fan of the entire thing, but complies either way. Zar and Zor just seem eager to please, happily glancing between themselves as they dutifully follow each step.

Lumbering his way with the cumbersome pile of paper, Ronnie spends an unnecessary amount of time filling out numerous, often pointless questions. Asking his opinion about ponies, what he thinks of magic... this is less getting his general information, which they're probably just pulling from his governmental files, and an exceedingly lengthy psyche evaluation.

He's gonna be here for a bit.