Baked Apple Antics
IC date: Summer 40, 1065 A.C.
OOC date: 7/27/2011
PCs: Salty Dusty Polaris Chaco
NPCs: Cinnaswirl
GM: None

Polaris nods genially along with the mayor's orders, the long-suffering colt duly committing the list to memory. "Yellow, gold, red, green, silver…got it, ma'am. Did you want orange or blue or purple as well?" he asks, with just a /bit/ of sarcasm. He'd stayed up late cleaning up the office late last night, and he really was looking forward to sleeping. But, duty calls. "The squids that we purchased from Mwai, ma'am? I'll see if he doesn't have more in stock." Glancing sideways to the unicorn beside him who's already a half-sheet to the wind, Polaris simply shakes his mane out. "The bakery is just around the corner, ma'am. We should check on the inscription in the pastries that were ordered, while we're out."

Chaco walks the other way along the boardwalk, strutting and bobbing his head and eying those selfsame shops. As Salty and Polaris pass, his attention is quite abruptly grabbed, and he turns around to hustle up behind them. "Decorations? Yes? You are to making the place shiny and bright for a party! Oh I must see. Doooo you want more things? Bright lights! Pretty things! Door handles?" He rustles around in a bag. "Of course you want shinier door handles!"

As the party arrives at the bakery they find Dusty with several texts he was apparently working on stuffed poorly into a saddle bag trying to make an order. Trying is of course not doing. "I'll have…no wait last time I had that I didn't eat it for a week…well what if I have……hmm well I could…but I probably should not…" and so on

"Paaaastriiiiies," Salty replies, with a musing, probably hungry nod. "Let's … 'check' on the pastries, yes." As filly prances failingly down the cobbled road, they're suddenly beset upon by a familiar face. "Chacooooo! Shinier door handles, you say? Walk with us! I am interested in your shiny door handles. And lights. And pretty things. …Say, when do you molt?"

Carrot Corner Cafe — Main Room

The main area of the Carrot Corner Cafe is small, wooden, and well-lit thanks to the many windows that adorn the walls. There are round tables and stools dotted around the area, and a counter in the back, complete with a glass display case filled with delicious-looking treats. In the back is a swinging door that leads to the kitchen.

As they step into the bakery, Salty bumps right into Dusty and nearly topples over. "Whups! Sorry there, lad. Lass. Sir. Ma'am. …PONY." The filly who had been taking Dusty's vacillating order was perfectly patient before; now she seems to be shrinking behind her counter a bit, eying the mayor. Not her again.

Chaco starts hauling an assortment of shiny doorknobs and knockers and elaborate handles out of his bag, spilling out a few brass chains, a locket, and even some random flatware before gathering it back up in a panic. "Ah! Well, I'll trade you these door handles of course! And—" He huffs a little. "Well it's not like I just lose my feathers all at once or anything."

Dusty gets up again. "Oh no its quite alright mayor, all this falling down has put me in the mood for a turnover actually." He hastily stuff whatever fell out of his bags back in. "Yes a turnover that is just the thing. What should I fill it with now…well there are apples…but is it really the right season for them…."

Hello, Mister Chaco," Polaris says with a small smile, walking sedately along behind the mayor. "We'd love to see some of your door handles. But we're only looking, for now." He doesn't want to be carrying anything home again. Salty's question has him looking a little horrified, glancing worriedly to Chaco.

As the group enters the bakery, Polaris sidles up to the counter with a sheepish smile. "Ah, sorry about last night. Here…" Tucking his nose into his satchel, he pulls out a few Irons to toss down onto the counter. "What's your specials?"

"…We can fix that," Salty says thoughtfully, giving Chaco a once-over. "Polaris, y'got a match?"

"NOT here," Cinnaswirl, the bakery filly, proclaims firmly, clopping a hoof to underline the point. Turning to Dusty, she sighs as she scoops up Polaris's proffered irons. "Strawberries are in season. How about a strawberry turnover, sir?"

Dusty looks over when the rest of the group enters the bakery. Spying Chaco he also spies the locket still in his claws. "Are you willing to trade for that locket" he asks order forgotten. He turns around again at the sound of his name. "yes Strawberries excellent, I've not had a good Strawberry turnover in a year at least."

Chaco ducks his head and leans around Dusty to eye the counter and its delicious foods, then turns his head to look directly at him from about two inches away. "Ooh, yes! Yes of course! What do you have?" Then he looks back to Cinnaswirl. "And you, pretty chains, pretty ankle bells? Oh those turnovers look delightful. Truly truly delightful, yes indeed~"

Polaris stiffens when Salty says his name, eyes closing and mouthing a silent prayer to Celestia for their safety. "Uh…no?" he asks, voice wavering uncertainly. Yeah right, he's got /everything/ in his satchel. Turning back to the filly behind the counter, he sighs right back at her. "Apple turnovers for each of us, please. Maybe it will be a good enough distraction."

Salty, ignoring everyone for the moment, moves over to stuff her face into Polaris's satchel, rummaging things around with a combination of brute force and telekinesis. Cinnaswirl watches warily, before blinking back to the present. "Apple turnovers? Right. Four of them, coming right up. That'll be four bits."

"AHA!" Salty proclaims, meanwhile, coming up with…thankfully not a match. Less thankfully, it's a pen knife.

Dusty backs away uncomfortably from the close quarters before pulling out a small mirror which hovers in front of him (via magic). "I had some scrolls I was deciphering before which were written in reverse but I've finished those now. Will this work?" He cautiously notes the pen knife and moves to his left; between moving backwards from the griffon and sideways from the not so sober mayor he finds himself uncomfortably cornered.

Polaris nearly rears up when there's suddenly a mayor with her head stuck in his sack. "Hay now!" he yelps, but just rolls his eyes and stands his ground while Salty manages to pull out a weapon of mass destruction. Yes, it's just a pen knife. In anyone else's hands but hers.

When his satchel is finally vacated, Polaris digs out four more bits to pay for the meal. "Quickly, please. To go."

Chaco advances on the poor unicorn. So interested in the shiny thing! So lacking in any sense of personal space! "OooooOOOooooooh," he says and peers closer, putting his face almost right up against that mirror. He looks up. "Is a deal!" and fishes that locket out to hand it to Dusty. Then he romps back over to the counter and inhales in the direction of the baked goods.

Penknife hovering in front of her, Salty gallops over to Chaco to look him over. "Say, you wouldn't mind if I took a few right? Like, two for each lamp post…"

"SALTY," Cinnaswirl snaps. Then she pauses, and adds, "Miss Mayor, we don't allow weapons in this bakery. We don't allow them leveled at other patrons especially. Put it away or your ban will extend from 24 hours to a lifetime."

Salty looks over and pouts. "Alright. Fiiiine. You have a point. Sorry, didn't mean to point a weapon at you, Chalky. Chico. Chunky?" The penknife clatters to the ground as her concentration breaks. Herp derp.

Dusty hangs the locket around his own neck. Then he steps over the penknife carefully to retrieves his own turnover. Between mouthfuls he asks "Is there a particular reason to put feathers on the lamp posts," (or is this just another drunken fancy of the mayor's goes unasked,) pointedly directing the question at Polaris

Chaco shoots Salty a chilling glare that lasts…about half a second. "You know I would trade for them. I have some feathers I am less fond of! And I -am- hungry." He sticks his tongue out, then sneaks over and snatches up a turnover, tossing it into his mouth. Then, more casually, picks up a second one out of the group's four and wanders towards the door~

"Ma'am!" Polaris squeaks as Salty menaces a guest with a knife! "Let's wait to complete transactions when we…uh…have the paperwork all ready?" Dusty's question gets a shake of the colt's head, looking fairly pale at the moment. "Don't ask, sir. Please PLEASE don't ask…"

"Trade, huh? Work it out with Polaris." Salty waves a hoof and then claims the last turnover, leaving Polaris high and dry. Poor thing. She munches on it lazily. "So. You! With the parchment on your butt. How's your night been?"

Dusty, as happy as can be to speak on his favorite subject (his work), rambles on heedless of whether his listeners stop to listen or not. "Well I was looking a particular scroll which I believed would support the thesis of Professor Moonglade on the interaction of the seasonal changes between the manual and so called "free" regions of the Equestia. Further how overflow from traumatic events from these "free regions" could have affected the very course of history by interference with any manual seasonal changes. Originally I believed the text to be written with a polyalphabetic substitution but instead they were part of an earlier dialect which I am less familiar with. This locket is in fact a thank you to a friend who helped in that. The records right now though are unclear as to the potential impact on the aforementioned thesis."

Chaco stares at the unicorn, blinking every once in a while and nodding along with his words. He knows what (almost) each word means! The whole of it doesn't make a lick of sense.

The only treat Polaris needs is for Salty to put away that knife. He sighs in relief when her attention turns from molestation to pastries. Though he does frown after Chaco and shakes his head. "Mister Chaco," he calls after him, "Meet in my office sometime this afternoon, and we'll work out a deal." Taking a seat at the table, Polaris slides part of Salty's apple turnover over towards himself. Listening to Dusty, his eyes widen slowly. "Wow. Very…well, wow. You're very well read sir…um, I'm sorry, I don't think I caught your name."

Salty is listening! … Sort of. She's mostly chewing on the same bite of turnover and staring blankly in Dusty's direction. How did she get to be mayor again? "Polywhatnow? I didn't take you for a poly…polig…polygamist. Polaris, that's the right word right?"

Dusty finishes the last few bites of his turn over and sits down across from Polaris "My name is Dusty, as for being well read it started as a hobby when I was younger and, well, now I largely translate and analyze old or unusual scrolls. I actually came here with the hopes to find some truly rare works. After all a port like Horseshoe Harbor draws all sorts of creatures and ponies."

Chaco tilts his head way to the side. "What in the world is a polizzimalist?" Then, "Same reason I come here, except my things are way shinier."

Polaris chokes on his bite of turnover, giving Salty a horrified look. "Ah er eh um…aharrum, a smidge off, ma'am. A polygamist is someone who, ah, enjoys the company of many colts and/or fillies." Smiling wanly, he hopes that satisfies her curiosity. Attention back on the well-read unicorn, he smiles and leans in. "Well, our history tends to be more of an oral tradition, however I am spending what little free time I have lately putting it down into writing."

Salty peers at Polaris. "Oh. Well then I'm not off at all. That's what I figured." Slinging a foreleg around Polaris's shoulders, Salty grins at Dusty. "Polly here is the son of the filly who founded Horseshoe Harbor. He can tell you all about it. And we're a pretty new settlement — as I'm sure you're aware — but that means there's a lot here unexplored. So you're probably in a goldmine!"

Dusty says "I'll have to take a look at what you have written down at some point." Suddenly he realizes it is dark. "Oh my," he says, "I get to stay for free for agreeing to tend to the lighthouse that is connected to my own house. I really must be off now," and he does just that.