Twilit Ponville

The total time for the commute was around a half an hour. The walking from Manehattan to the train station to the outskirts of Ponyville did take a while, and Vassago spent most of the ride chatting amiably.

"Now, one would think that Ponyville (being the stereotypical backwater town of happy-go-lucky ponies that it is) would be the worst possible place for me to live, but the populace of Ponyville are a superstitious and ignorant lot. Pop a few funny looking squiggles in some alleys, and ponies think your some being from beyond the Everfree!"

the train slowed to a stop and Vassago got out and stepped off the train he motioned off into the misty streets of Ponyville, dully lit by old streetlights. "Shall we away?"

Misfit listened closely to all Vassago's words. Well, most of them. Sometimes he talked really quickly, or with a topic she didn't thoroughly know. Still, she attempted to listen as intently as she could. It was the least she could do.

The train halted, and she could only presume they were at Ponyville. She gazed at the window for a moment, then took a step out of the train. It looked so different at night. In the daytime, Ponyville looked bright, nice, cheery. But at night... it was almost eerie. It felt as if the town was put under some kind of wispy spell whenever darkness fell. She had never been able to really appreciate it before, since the one or two times she's been here, she's been starving or in trouble with backalley creeps.

"Shall we away?"

She smiled softly, but the excitement clearly shined through her eyes. "Yes. Yes, please." She was ready to follow Vassago, already wondering where they'd be going.

With her agreement, Vassago roughly grabbed his traveling companion and dragged her off down the misty streets.

"Ah! In our haste I have talked so much I have neglected the whole reason for this journey!" He mumbled to himself. It is true, to talk so much alienates those who who don't stay silent, and Vas did have a tendency to 'Word Barf' all over a conversation.

"So, Ms. Fit. However did you find yourself on the streets?" He still had the snippets, so he assumed some sort of family tragedy, but a more coherent story was always better than speculation.

(Aaah, I'm so sorry for taking so long! My parents planned a surprise 'family day', and I didn't have access to a computer. Sorry for making you wait!)

The filly willingly allowed the colt to guide her down the dark roads of Ponyville. Whenever Vassago came near her or touched her, she still got this odd feeling of shyness, but what else would you expect? She was with a celebrity. Misfit heard him mumble under his breath, something about 'haste' and 'neglect', but she didn't pick much up other than that.

"So, Ms. Fit. However did you find yourself on the streets?"

The blatantness of the question surprised, but she wasn't alarmed by the actual inquiry. Everypony always wondered how a filly like her found herself homeless. A lot of ponies just saw her life like a story, like it was just a little tale that they could listen to when they wanted to be entertained or moved. She had been asked the question hundreds of time, and she had began to just give the same simple answer. But Vassago seemed to be genuine, and she owed it to him the truth. Most of it, anyway.

"O-oh? Well, really the same how most other foals do..." Her stuttering was starting to dim down. That tended to happen whenever she knew somepony for at least decent while. "My parents died when I was younger. N-none of my relatives, who were few to begin with, could take me in, and I think I'd r-rather drink sour ink than go to an orphanage, so... that's how."

The filly paused, then smiled softly. "B-but that won't satisfy you, r-right?" She sighed, gazing up at the night sky. It was almost infamous of how much Vassago loved disturbing details and odd pasts.

"My mum got real sick. I-I mean, she got sick a lot, but this time, it got real bad.  It lasted months. My dad even had to stay home from t-teaching sometimes to take care of her, though he always made me go to school, even when it g-got really serious. Then, one day..."

"Well, I-I felt as if something really bad had happened. You know, that feeling you get? So I slipped out of school, and I ran home. But it was too late. The... the house was just smoldering. My parents were gone, though I wouldn't believe it. There was so much fire, Celestia, so much damn fire..." The filly kicked at a stone, her soft and shy attitude disappearing for a moment. She could feel the naked scars on her arms rub up against her sleeve's fabric. It was mostly the truth. Mostly. But he didn't need to know it all.

Misfit shook her head, back to normal in a blink of an eye. "Ah! S-sorry about that. Kinda rambled a b-bit there. I always get a bit melancholy when I-I talk about this stuff." She smiled uneasily.

Gosh, she could sometimes be so dreadfully depressing. It wasn't the truth, though. She made it sound as if the fire was already there when she came. The fire had nothing to do with her parent's death. But that was a way to make it understandable. Her parents burned to death: Such a quick, simple situation. Yet it was a lie. There was more to it than that. But Vassago wouldn't know or probably really care, right? Why would he care about the past of a street-rat, how would he know?

Unless the rumors about his mind-reading powers were true.

Vas listened attentively and eagerly as he walked alongside the orphan. She was on the street by her own volition? Vassago certainly understood the sentiment, and nodded.

"B-but that won't satisfy you, r-right?"

Vassago blinked. He had hoped to gain a little insight into some of the things he'd seen, but he certainly didn't dare to think she would divulge the whole story.

"My mum got real sick. I-I mean, she got sick a lot, but this time, it got real bad. It lasted months. My dad even had to stay home from t-teaching sometimes to take care of her, though he always made me go to school, even when it g-got really serious. Then, one day..."

Vassago stared with rapt curiosity.

"Well, I-I felt as if something really bad had happened. You know, that feeling you get? So I slipped out of school, and I ran home. But it was too late. The... the house was just smoldering. My parents were gone, though I wouldn't believe it. There was so much fire, Celestia, so much damn fire..."

"Huh." He grunted, but his mind was racing wildly. She wasn't there? She didn't see anything? No. That doesn't fit. The feeling was too strong, too intimate to be so disconnected as that.What happened? What really happened? Was she lying? She certainly was a good actress if she was. That was what almost got him, everything about it was so... genuine. If it was one thing that was certainly true, it was that Vas loved a good story, especially the ones with an unreliable narrator.

"How does it-"

"Ah! S-sorry about that. Kinda rambled a b-bit there. I always get a bit melancholy when I-I talk about this stuff."

"Naturally! I... most ponies aren't so open..." He paused and pursed his lips in thought. "I mean, it could just be me, but I've always liked open-mindedness and Honesty, as a trait. Nothing is to be gained by holding thoughts back." At least, that's what Vas wished was true. In truth, he had done his share of lying and deceiving, as most everypony did on a constant basis. But, wouldn't it be lovely to have someone that you didn't have to lie to? That you could simply sit and talk to without fear of judgement?

"So... Thank you? I've already said that. Mmm... Again! Thank... you... Yes." He rubbed the back of his neck and rounded a corner. Despite his hesitation. He frowned, but not out of melancholy. How could he properly thank this extraordinary, fascinating pony? At a certain point, normal gratitude simply doesn't cut it.

Misfit only realized after she had finished her sentence that she had cut Vassago off. Her first instinct was to apologize, but he didn't acknowledge in anyway, so she let it slip away.

"Naturally! I... most ponies aren't so open...I mean, it could just be me, but I've always liked open-mindedness and honesty, as a trait. Nothing is to be gained by holding thoughts back."

The filly shuffled uncomfortably. Either this was all fitting to be terribly coincidental and ironic, or he knew that there was something more. There was a bit more, but nothing to go hollering about. It wasn't much, really. No huge lifechanging difference in the story. It just seemed big and melodramatic to her because of what it symbolized, though she knew she was probably overthinking it. Probably. But it still was something. It still changed her view on her parents. Her father, to be specific. "W-well, I'm a pretty open pony. A-at least, with this kind of stuff... Ah, I agree with you. N-nothing is to be gained." She paused. "W-well. Usually. And while you don't gain anything, you don't e-exactly lose much either. So, it's kinda safe. You can't get hurt." She shook her head, apologizing only a few seconds after she finished her sentence. "Ehm, never mind, sorry. My mouth's j-just kind of running before my m-mind can think."

Agghh, whenever she thought about her parent's death, it made her head feel as if was being spun on a pike. Everything seemed so upside down and inside out. She near doubted the ground itself would hold underneath her hooves. Maybe it was because it brought her back to the event of her parents death, where everything had felt as if it had broken in two, shattered and dead on the floor.

Okay, seriously, Misfit. You have to stop thinking like that. Celestia can you be dramatic. Pull yourself together and stop being such a teary-eyed crybaby. The great Vassago is standing here before you, and you're still being a paranoid little foal. Get a grip.

"So... Thank you? I've already said that. Mmm... Again! Thank... you... Yes."

"O-oh!" She exclaimed quickly. "There's no reason to thank me, r-really! You could find just a similar tale being told by an o-old street foal. Nothing special. But I'm glad you at least found it i-interesting."

The colt's words from earlier came back to her thoughts. Truth and honesty. Well, it wasn't that she lied. She just hadn't indulged to all the gritty details. But it must such an extraordinary relationship, if you could talk completely freely to another pony, without fear or judgement. She wish she could have something like that, but she doubted she'd trust anypony that much anytime soon. Still, it was a nice thought. Maybe she'd show Vassago some of the baggage she carried around in her mind, at some point. And maybe he could tell her some of his.

Hah. What a silly idea. Vassago, telling about his grand past to such a wimpy filly with only small experiences? What a thought. Besides, she doubted that they'd actually ever have an actual true acquaintanceship. Not that she'd not want to be friends, she'd love to. She just doubted he'd waste much time running around with a little urchin. After he consumed the novelty of her past tales, he'd probably just leave her back to her own devices, never really speaking to her again. That's what she expected, anyway.

"So, where are we going? I mean, if I can ask..."

"W-well, I'm a pretty open pony. A-at least, with this kind of stuff... Ah, I agree with you. N-nothing is to be gained." She paused. "W-well. Usually. And while you don't gain anything, you don't e-exactly lose much either. So, it's kinda safe. You can't get hurt." She shook her head, apologizing only a few seconds after she finished her sentence. "Ehm, never mind, sorry. My mouth's j-just kind of running before my m-mind can think."


"Oh please!" Vas waved a hoof, absolving Misfit of her sins. "Never apologize. Talking is what sets apart civilization from savagery. Sorry that sounded much less conceited in my head..." He said, sheepishly scratching his nose. He prepared an argument to contest her point about the cost of being open, but let it go for the time being. Didn't want to be a nit picky little twerp.

"So, where are we going? I mean, if I can ask..."

"We are..." He looked through the fog, as they came out on the other side of an alley. "Looking for a certain establishment." He turned on to a street with a slightly worn sign, dubbing it 'Rose Street'.

"I need to drop by a friend. Well... I say friend. I mean acquaintance. I say acquaintance..."

He stopped in front of a old building with a neon sign that proclaimed 'Rose Street Cafe: #1 Tea in PonyVille!' and rapped a hoof on the door to the rhythm of 'Shave and a Mane Cut'.

He sat down on the curb, old tunes from a record player wafted out of a lit window on the second floor of the townhouse-turned-coffee shop. There was an audible grumble, and the sound of general clamor on the floor above.

"Now I must warn you, my friend-slash-acquaintance-slash-landlord may seem a bit grumpy, but he truly has a heart of gold."

(Bleh, so sorry for taking so long!)

"Oh please! Never apologize. Talking is what sets apart civilization from savagery. Sorry, that sounded much less conceited in my head..."

Misfit shook her head. "O-oh, no, not at all! ...Well, maybe a tiny little b-bit, but being conceited isn't always a bad thing, r-right? It's better than being like.... well, me. Besides, you of all ponies should b-be allowed to indulge in a little conceitedness every once in a-awhile..."

It seemed like Vassago was going to say something else, then held it back. Oh, dear. Had she said something wrong? She hoped not... Maybe he was going to say something, then realized it would give something about his past away, and thought better of it. Yeah. That was probably it. The only problem was, that theory just made her want to know about his childhood even more. There were always rumors to find stuff like that out, but anypony who's lived in the streets for more than a week would know not to put any trust into rumors. That is, unless you wanted to be sweeped up by ridiculous and imposible tales. Which is what tended to happen to Misfit.

Some say that Vassago was a orphan that murdered the cruel mare that ran his orphanage, and his cutie-mark appeared when he made a deal for all the foals there to not say a word about it. It was said that was the one and only time he made a deal that wasn't to his advantage. Others say that he's actually an undercover secret-agent of the princesses, and was raised by them, being taught powerful forbidden magic since he was a toddler. Then, there's her personal favorite: that he's actually a demon in a pony body, taking hold of a poor colt when he was only a yearling and persuading his mind to do its cursed deeds.

She didn't really believe any of these rumors, though a filly can dream. What really amazed her was the fact that a pony could get such rumors made about themselves. She unconsciously stared at Vassago for a few moments, taking in his whole image. ...He really did have beautiful eyes.

The colt began talking again, which made Misfit realize her staring, and she looked away quickly. Thank gods he probably couldn't see her blushing through the mist. And even if he did, she had been blushing a whole lot since he had met her, so he probably wouldn't even notice a difference. At least, that's what she hoped.

The filly took in the sight of the old building, and her ears detected an outdated, bawdy tine pouring through the window. She didn't remember any place in Ponyville looking like this. Maybe because it was so dark and foggy. That definitely gave it a more eerie feel.

"Now I must warn you, my friend-slash-acquaintance-slash-landlord may seem a bit grumpy, but he truly has a heart of gold."

Misfit smiled. "Oh, I-I understand. He sounds like a g-great stallio-"

She was interrupted by a door creaking open.

"O-oh, no, not at all! ...Well, maybe a tiny little b-bit, but being conceited isn't always a bad thing, r-right? It's better than being like.... well, me. Besides, you of all ponies should b-be allowed to indulge in a little conceitedness every once in a-awhile..."


She wants something. She really wants something. Vas briefly wondered what it could be as he stood in front of the door.

The door hung ajar slightly, only to be swing open wildly. The doorknob smacked the colt square in the jaw, sending him flying into the street with a blase "Ow."

In the doorway stood a lithe stallion, dark brown of fur, with golden, almond shaped eyes that had a predatory squint. His mane was jet black, carefully swept back if not for a pesky lock that hung over an eye. The earth pony curled a lip contemptuously at the colt.

"Oh. It's a colt." He stated in a monotone, His accent hinted at a slight Saddle Arabian decent, but he didn't have any of the distinct features of one such pony. "This one hasn't seen you in a few weeks."

Vas sat up from his new position in the street, holding a hoof to his nose. "Ow. Ow. Ow. Hi! Yes. Ow. I've been doing some business in Manehattan for a while. I thought you wouldn't-"

"This one doesn't care." The pony interrupted. "And who would this be." His eyes locked onto Misfit.

"A friend!"

"A colt doesn't have friends."

"Jokes on you!" Vas sniffed up a little blood from his nose, grinning. "This one's a Fan Filly! My first, you know. We're very happy together."

"Huh."

"Can we come inside?"

The stallion stood there a moment, then turned his head to Misfit, shooting daggers at her. Finally he turned an walked inside.

"I think he likes you." the colt said as he stood up. With a hoof on his nose, he took Misfit and led her inside.

It was a terribly small delicatessen, the bottom floor of a home converted into a cafe. It wasn't particularly glamorous, but it was homey. What was the kitchenette was divided from the seating are with a counter, a cashier and a display for pastries occupied the front of the room. A stairs in the back led up to the second floor.

Vas slumped onto a couch in the corner, a part of a ring of cushion-ey chairs that rung around a cheap coffee table. The stallion worked away at something behind the counter, and a packet of ice sat on the table. Vas took it and stuck it onto his nose, he winced, then sighed.

"Aaaaah. All the comforts of home and half of the expenses!"

"None of the expenses." The stallion corrected.

"Details, details." He turned to Misfit "Now, My Adoring Little Fan, what do you think of my Lair?"

Misfit made a squeaked as the doorknob came in contact with Vassago's head. She rushed to the pavement beside him the moment he hit the ground, making sure he was okay. She knew he probably wasn't seriously hurt, but a hit like that could leave a nasty bruise, or maybe even dent a jawbone.

She gazed up at the now open door, gazing at the slender stallion underneath it's arch. He had hurt Vassago. He had hurt one of her friends. For a moment, a wisp of hatred and anger flickered in her eyes, like a small orange flame. However, as quickly as it had come, it was gone.

It wasn't his fault. Surely he didn't try to do it. There was no proof, and she couldn't just jump to conclusions. Still, it'd be nice if he'd apologize...

The stallion spoke almost boredly. Vassago replied with many exclamations of pains. Misfit wanted to ask if she could help in some way, but thought against it. He could take care of himself, and she didn't want to seem like some clingy brat.

"This one doesn't care." The pony interrupted. "And who would this be." His eyes locked onto Misfit.

The filly gazed passively at the stallion, giving a very minuscule, shy grin and an awkward wave.

"A friend!"

Was it pathetic how happy it made her to hear him call her his friend? Yes, it was.

"A colt doesn't have friends."

"Jokes on you! This one's a Fan Filly! My first, you know. We're very happy together."

Oh. Well, great. While Vassago's got blood coming out of his nose, she had blood rushing to her face and ears. Must be a wonderful first impression.

The wounded colt requested to go inside, and after the stallion was done shooting her a look that could kill ten of Celestia' guards, granted the invitation.

"I think he likes you."

She glanced at Vassago, puzzled. Was that sarcastic, or actually true? With the question on her mind, she followed the him into the building.

What laid inside shook her quite near to her core.

"Aaaaah. All the comforts of home and half of the expenses!"

"None of the expenses." The stallion corrected.

"Details, details." He turned to Misfit "Now, My Adoring Little Fan, what do you think of my Lair?"

"I..." Warmth. Coziness. The scent of homemade sweets. It might have not been the most elegant, but that didn't matter. The sights, the smells, even the sounds of the room sent triggers throughout her entire brain. It reminded her of her mother's kitchen. Of home. Of a better life. It was both heart-achingly lovely and nostalgically painful at the same time. "I... I love it!" She exclaimed.

"Oooohh, it's just amazing! You sometimes get to live here? Oh, gosh, that is so bucking cool!" The filly then turned to the stallion. "Do you work here? Own it? Either way, I-I must say, it's simply wonderful! It's such a shame I haven't found this place sooner!" She scanned the entire room, taking in every inch of it she could. There were some environments that just made her so... giddy. It probably sounded odd, but with such a sensitive nose, and such particular ears, some places almost overrided her brain with signals. Including this one. Color. Sound. The clinking of glass. The swing of a cupboard. The rough carpet against her hooves. Yes, it was a bit too cozy for her liking if she were to live here, but that didn't matter. You couldn't live off candy either, but that didn't make it any less sweet. In fact, it made it even sweeter.

Vas blankly gaped at Misfit’s reaction.

Although most saw a overexuberant filly, Vas saw the most marvelous

“You like it? Really?” He glanced over to the pegasus in the corner. “I mean… Not that I don’t like it, but I half expected you to be disappointed I didn’t live in some magic flying castle, or a volcanic island.” He giggled a little, watching her.

The stallion’s eyes left whatever he was concocting behind the counter, raising up to look at the filly. A single brow rose up at her enthusiasm. “I live here. I work here. I wish all my customers thought as a filly did. Then I wouldn’t have to let a colt who doesn’t pay rent live here.” He turned back to his work.

Vas winced slightly. “Well, I only really just steal his food and crash on the couch whenever I feel the need to do such plebian things like sleep and eat.” He stared off into space before getting up and walking up the stairs. “Speaking of basic equine functions, I need to go to the little colt’s room.” He peaked his head between the ceiling and the stairs before disappearing into the 2nd floor. “Don’t kill each other!”

And then there was only the pegasus, and Misfit.

“You like it? Really?” He glanced over to the pegasus in the corner. “I mean… Not that I don’t like it, but I half expected you to be disappointed I didn’t live in some magic flying castle, or a volcanic island.”

"Of course I like it! Why wouldn't I? I m-mean, it's already a great place on its own, but it's also one of your bases, w-which makes it even better!" Misfit felt like smacking herself in the head for that comment. Geesh. She must either sound like a creepy clingy fan, or an incredibly pathetic street-urchin that was easily impressed. Or both. But what could she say? It was the truth: Vassago bedazzled her. "N-not saying that a firey volcano or a flying cloud castle wouldn't be cool, of course. B-but you gotta take what you can g-get, and what you got is pretty dang awesome. To me, anyways."

“I live here. I work here. I wish all my customers thought as a filly did. Then I wouldn’t have to let a colt who doesn’t pay rent live here.” He turned back to his work.

She decided that she liked this stallion. Not because of his pokes at Vassago, mind you, but because he reminded her of somepony else she knew. Someone who she held near and dear to her heart. And, surprisingly, someone who was actually still alive.

Well, I only really just steal his food and crash on the couch whenever I feel the need to do such plebian things like sleep and eat.” He stared off into space before getting up and walking up the stairs. “Speaking of basic equine functions, I need to go to the little colt’s room.” He peaked his head between the ceiling and the stairs before disappearing into the 2nd floor. “Don’t kill each other!”

She nodded. For the first minute or two, Misfit just continued to take in the environment, but without Vassago there, it felt too.... Quiet. Huh. Guess his presence literally made the place better. Still, she hoped she'd be able to come here even after this visit. It truly was a marvelous place. It wasn't totally slummy, but it wasn't high-par either. Perfect.

Well, it would be if she wasn't busy being intimidated by the stallion she was now alone in the room with. She didn't want to interrupt his work, but the stillness was getting to her. "Um... So." She started feebly. The pegasus's back was turned to her. "Hello, s-sir.... Aye, you never told m-me your name! N-not that you have to. You don't have to. But I-I'd like to know, sir." The filly rubbed her shoulder, feeling awkward. Her mind raced with ideas for topic to small talk about until Vassago got back.

"...I-I know somepony a lot like you... You kinda talk and act like him." Well, besides the third-person speech impediment. "He lives in Manehattan, but if you were to meet, I-I'm sure you'd get along with each other..." Misfit looked down at the flooring. Speaking of that pony made her feel kinda odd, melancholy even. Maybe it was because she missed him. She hadn't spoken to her godfather in a long time.

"Hello, s-sir.... Aye, you never told m-me your name! N-not that you have to. You don't have to. But I-I'd like to know, sir." The filly rubbed her shoulder, feeling awkward. Her mind raced with ideas for topic to small talk about until Vassago got back.

"...I-I know somepony a lot like you... You kinda talk and act like him." Well, besides the third-person speech impediment. "He lives in Manehattan, but if you were to meet, I-I'm sure you'd get along with each other..."

The stallion, who had remained silent and diligent in his work all this time, turned around with a flourish to set down a beautiful dish on the counter, carefully moving it under his wings with articulate feathers.

It was a simple china plate with a doily on top. On a saucer lay a steaming teacup full of thick, viscous hot chocolate, garnished with a delicate spiral of orange rind and a stick of cinnamon stuck inside. On the other side of the plate, a stack of dates sat in a pyramid, adjacent lay tangerine slices.

“A filly looks hungry.” He stated, pushing the plate toward Misfit. “One must eat, yes?”

“This one’s name is long and confusing. Not suited for Equestrian tongues, I’ve found. A colt calls me Ozy, and thinks it works. A filly could call me Ozy as well, if she likes.”

He leaned over the counter and set his head on a hoof. “Please, do the ‘digging in’. It is not a hearty meal, but it is what I make do with.”

While Misfit started to eat, Ozy walked over to a teakettle and poured the hot water into a mug, and started to steep a teabag. He said, taking a honey dipper and drizzling some golden ooze into his cup. He swirled it around.

“A filly has a fire inside.” The stallion continued to stare into his cup. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone jump to his side so quickly.” His eyes quickly shot up to meet her’s. A smile found its way onto his lips, a knowing smile.

"A filly reminds me of a friend as well. I remember seeing that same look in their eye as well." He sipped from the hot tea, appearing nonchalant.

The stallion didn't utter a single word. Misfit was afraid she might've said something wrong. That, or she was just plainly annoying him, and he wasn't even granting her a reply.

Suddenly, the pony turned around, cloaking a china dish with his wing. She couldn't believe her eyes. There was a thickly steaming mug of some liquid, and it took her a moment to recognize it as hot chocolate. There was also an elegantly-stacked pile of fruits, and a doily placed carefully underneath. She suppressed the urge to stare, but the scent was heavenly. Cinnamon and citrus. But she couldn't stare. The dish must have been for a customer that had ordered on the phone. Teag. That made sense. There's no way in Equestria she would ever be able to eat something li-

“A filly looks hungry.” He stated, pushing the plate toward Misfit. “One must eat, yes?”

She glanced at the Pegasus with bewildered eyes. Her? This was meant for her? She kept her hooves at bay, thinking it must be some kind of mistake. He must have spoken wrong. Or she had heard wrong.

“This one’s name is long and confusing. Not suited for Equestrian tongues, I’ve found. A colt calls me Ozy, and thinks it works. A filly could call me Ozy as well, if she likes.”

Misfit brightened. Even if the food wasn't for her, it was good, knowing the stallion's name. It made her feel like if there was at least a small sense of trust, even if it didn't make much sense. He was foreign. That explained the accent. "O-ozy. That's a wonderful name. But even if I c-can't say it, I'm sure your full name is e-even better." She grinned softly.

He leaned over the counter and set his head on a hoof. “Please, do the ‘digging in’. It is not a hearty meal, but it is what I make do with.”

"O-oh! So, i-it is for me..." She said, a mixture of a statement and an inquiry. She rested her hoof next to the plate. "Wow.... Thank you! It's great, really. It's- well, I know it may s-sound odd, talking about food, b-but, it looks rather beautiful." She spoke genuinely, gazing at the gold-eyed Pegasus. Then, with a last once over of the dish, she nibbled at a date, and carefully took a sip of the hot cocoa. It was thick and warm on her tongue, and felt as if she was swallowing liquid gold. In short, it was unbelievably good. It had been so long since she had something like this. She let out a small hum of contentment, and watched as the stallion readied his own tea.

“A filly has a fire inside.” The stallion continued to stare into his cup. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone jump to his side so quickly.” His eyes quickly shot up to meet her’s. A smile found its way onto his lips, a knowing smile.

Her ears perked, and she flushed fiercely. "A-ah, y-yes, well..." She looked away, holding the mug between her hooves. "He.... He's.... He's just... W-well, you know. I..." She sighed, then gave a tiny smile. "Yeah." A fire inside. He didn't know how true that actually was.

"A filly reminds me of a friend as well. I remember seeing that same look in their eye as well."

This peaked her interest. "Oh... Really? Who? I-I mean, if you're comfortable with saying..." In the back of her mind, she wondered what was taking Vassago so long. Who knows, though. She had no idea what boys do in the bathroom.[/b]

"O-ozy. That's a wonderful name. But even if I c-can't say it, I'm sure your full name is e-even better."

The newly christened Ozy let a stray smirk cross his face for a moment, before fading. " Not really. This one was just born with it. Names have a funny way of sticking. My first name is really OzyManedias the-" He stopped himself and blinked for a moment. "OzyManedias. Too many syllables. Most prefer Ozy."

"O-oh! So, i-it is for me..." She said, a mixture of a statement and an inquiry. She rested her hoof next to the plate. "Wow.... Thank you! It's great, really. It's- well, I know it may s-sound odd, talking about food, b-but, it looks rather beautiful."

"Silly Filly!" He joked. "Who else would it be for? The rats in the cellar?" His face may not have showed it, but he did enjoy the compliment. "Pah. Anypony can put food on a plate."

He watched in mild amusement as she squirmed. While Ozy admitted that he could never read a pony as well as his house guest could, He couldn't help but feel accomplished when he got it right. He lifted his mug to take a drink

"Oh... Really? Who? I-I mean, if you're comfortable with saying..."

The stallion stopped, letting his mug sit, just as he was about to take a sip. He quietly put the mug down. "A filly asks a great many questions..." He chuckled hollowly. He suddenly sounded very tired. Ozy gazed upon Misfit for a very long time, judging her.

Whatever he was looking for, he apparently found. "When I was young..." he started; a strange thing for a youthful stallion to say. He took a deep breath.

A barely audible snicker emanated from the ceiling.

Very casually, the stallion picked a kitchen knife and viciously flunk it upwards, sticking it squarely into the ceiling. A very loud, effeminate scream came from the ceiling, followed by hoofsteps towards the stair.

"What ho, a rat." Ozy muttered under his breath.

"Don't you make veiled Shakespony quotes at me!" The aforementioned house guest poked his head down the stairs, clearly a little jumpy. "You almost hit me!"

The stallion mumbled something in a foreign language that sounded maybe a bit profane, and turned back the kitchenette, grabbing a dish and starting to clean.

Vas joined Misfit at the counter, resting his head on the table clearly disappointed. "And he was just getting to the good part... Oh well... How are you, Ms. Fit? Still in one piece?"