Episode A: Alluring Kaleidoscope (Part One)

Starla Shine was a gorgeous pony, at least by United-Equestrian standards. Her spiralling indigo tresses were covered in tiny sparkles of glitter, emulating the night sky. Her jewel-encrusted armour was the perfect accompaniment to an eggplant-coloured skirt that was beautiful, despite providing no advantage in combat. Her lily-white skin was blemished only by a few light gray freckles, and even her number was graceful: KY1M. But all was not beautiful within her heart.

It was Starla and Penny's day off from Star Fleet duty, and they entertained themselves as best they knew how. There they were, two white ponies sitting in white chairs around a white table with a white umbrella in White City. Even their smoothies were white, which meant they were largely flavourless, but that was the trend in White City. Sometimes, Starla wished they could go to Redwood Meadows for strawberry shortcake, but what kind of example would that be?

"This is nice. Why don't we do this more often?" Starla asked politely.

"You're the one who always says you're busy with Star Fleet stuff. I'm pretty much free all the time." Penny responded.

"Slow days at the office?"

"What office?" The medical pony looked genuinely confused by her notion.

In the awkward silence that followed, the air filled with laughter. Fluttershy and Rarity walked past, oblivious to the two drinkers, with faces full of mirth. Whatever they were talking about, it must have been more interesting than Starla and Penny's conversation.

"Our world has been part of theirs for so long." Starla said. "But I still don't know any of them."

"Because of Lightning?" Penny asked.

"Yeah...I have to spend all my time with him. And when he doesn't need me, I just stay at home. I'm not allowed to be my own person because of him."

"So you're having Lover's Remorse? That's a pretty severe diagnosis."

"Is that – is that a real thing?" Starla's face was more confusion than distrust. "Sounds like you're making it up."

"Trust me." Penny chuckled. "I'm a doctor, right? So I know what you're going through. You fell in love with a man at first sight. Then went head into heels for him. No time for second thoughts, to consider alternatives, to even figure out if you liked the guy.

"Yes, that's it exactly!"

"I'm an expert on love, dear, and that's something you can believe in."

Penny gently placed her hoof on Starla's glove, and dropped a tiny trinket into it.

"What is this?" Starla asked, as dumbfounded as during the entire conversation.

"Perspective." was the cryptic reply.

With that, Penny immediately got up from her chair, put down a few megabits to pay for their drinks, and left without saying goodbye. As she turned to leave, the setting sun caught her eye, for just a moment, revealing an oily emerald sheen that was not there before – and then it was gone.

Back at the observatory, Starla turned over the object in her hands, trying to figure out what it was, and why she had gotten it. "Perspective? Is that like a telescope?" she said to no one. Unfortunately, someone answered back.

"Did someone tell you perspective was like a telescope?" Inquerius asked from the floors below. Starla promptly ignored her; the last thing she needed was someone asking her more questions when this one was hard enough already.

"Hello? Are you there, Starla?" It was at times like this that Starla was glad she had such a talent for blending in and being promptly forgotten.

"Was I hearing things?" she inquired one last time.

Good. Now that she was dealt with, it was time to examine her treasure. It was a tiny tube, only 15 centimeters long, with a convex lens on one end, and an eyehole on the other. A gear changed some sort of internal setting, while the barrel was covered in many ponies, some with horns, some with wings, and some with neither, all very much in love. She could not recall it having been so outlandish looking when Penny gave it to her, but the starlight brought out its true beauty, much like its current bearer.

Taking a deep breath, she held it up to her eye, and clicked the dial, once, and timidly a second time. Shapes whirled in front of her eyes, dancing out patterns to make the sky envious. Her spartan society had few objects that contained such simple, illusive beauty. Roses twirled into bloom, bracketed by lilies and daffodils.

A garden brought itself into existence before her eyes, made from the magic of the kaleidoscope. Much to her surprise, the garden was not hers alone.

"Starla, are you all right?" called a familiar voice. "You passed out in the middle of my garden, so I tried making you an herbal remedy."

Starla couldn't recall having been passed out, but she was certainly disoriented. "What happened? Why didn't it work?" she said weakly.

"Because you woke up before I could give it to you. But, it sounds like you could still use it anyway."

As the mysterious speaker came around to her front, it proved to be Buddy Rose. Though they were in the same unit of Star Fleet together, the two rarely interacted, due to the bizarre mandate grounding Buddy to his gardens.

He handed her a cup, as red as his face, since all things were expected to be red in Redwood Meadows. She sniffed at it, and found the aroma pleasing, laced with lavender and chamomile. "Be careful, it's hot." he warned her.

As she sipped, she took the time to study her savior. He was barechested, a symbol of the exertion he put forth from the chore of yardwork, revealing an impressive physique. His entire body was fixed in a permanent blush, as if everything and everypony made him just a bit embarrassed. She giggled to think of it.

Attentive as he was, Buddy Rose did not miss her tiny outburst. "It sounds like you're getting better. If nothing else, your voice has made a recovery."

Starla never really gave much thought to her voice. Singing was Lightning's thing, or Krysta's, or the Grand Ruler's. "Do you like my voice, Mr. Rose?" she asked, fully aware that she sounded like a child.

"Don't put on that childish act for me, Starla. I know the Grand Ruler meant for you to act a certain way...but I want you to be yourself." He held out his hoof to pick a flower, and handed it to her. An indigo bellflower, with broad petals in the shape of a star. "Organic." he added, referring to her, not the flower.

She didn't expect to be faced with a puzzle in that moment. Just how does one act organic? she thought. Break the rules? Take off your clothes? Do...the first thing that comes to your mind?

"Shortcake." she decided. "I know it's a lot to ask...but I've always wanted to have some. Not the plain kind, we get that all the time in White City, but-"

Buddy Rose pointed off into the distance, towards a luxurious crop of fat-leaved vines. "They're not ready yet, but give them a few weeks. They'll grow into something beautiful, something delicious, something worth coming back for.."

"You're already making plans, Buddy? Seems kind of forward."

"Maybe." he chuckled. "Or maybe I'm just talking about fruit, and you're the one who seems to think it's something more?"

That was enough to make any mare at least a little defensive. "Come on, I'm in a relationship with Lightning. You know that."

"A relationship with who?" He seemed a little puzzled.

"Your friend? The one who's, like, captain of Star Fleet or something?"

"Didn't he move away?"

Starla tried to keep talking about Lightning, assure Buddy Rose of his existence, but somehow the words just faded from her mouth. Leaves and fruits filled her eyes until she realized they just went around in circles, making patterns as they caught the light. She was in the observatory, and in her hooves, a small kaleidoscope.

She spun the apparatus faster and faster, trying to conjure back the garden, but it was just more of the same. Angry at the capricious instrument, she banged it on the table, and held it to her eye again. With a click, the scenery changed.

This time, there were a great many things to see. Powders, oils, and liquids of various colours, merging with...a runny egg? They whirled around in the bowl together, becoming a pale beige batter, and finally converging into a spongy cake on a tiny plate.

"You said you needed to speak to me? Something wrong with your dessert?" said a brusque blue figure. He was the chef at this establishment, complete with the utter lack of screen time the position entails.

Starla pushed around the plain cake with a fork, trying to figure out just what was the matter with it. "Isn't this supposed to come with fruit?" she wagered.

The chef seemed taken aback. "What would give you that idea?"

"Look at that yellow pony over there. Hers has pineapple in it." The yellow mare indeed had a pineapple shortcake. "That violet stallion has a blackberry shortcake." Abra Kadabra promptly made the spoken of cake disappear. "So then...why is mine so plain?"

"Get to the point. What do you actually want me to, you know, do for you?"

She was getting a little tired of his attitude. "I want you to make me a blueberry shortcake. I hope you know what that means."

He raised an eyebrow slightly. "Really, girl. You want a blueberry shortcake? You think you can handle it? I hear your stomachs are very sensitive where you come from."

"You heard me." she said. "Berries as blue as that mane of yours, Mr..."

"Cookie Dough." he said. "Not that anyone cares, but my name is Cookie Dough."

She noticed something odd about his expression. His features were softening before her eyes, something she had never seen in the five minutes she had known this stallion for. There was clearly something on his mind, and she wasn't about to let it drop.

"Something on your mind?" she asked, realizing it came off much for confrontational than she intended.

"Nah, I just missed this sort of thing. Ever since I came here, it's all colour-coordinated menus and meaningless praise. You're the first person who actually seems to taste what she's eating."

"This had better not be your plan to get out of making me that dessert."

Cookie Dough shook his head, his ridiculously tall hat almost falling off in the process. "You know what? Here's the deal. I'll make you that dumb cake, if you come back and help me."

She was a little shocked by the notion. "I have to help you? In a restaurant? What kind of service is that?" It was at that point she picked up on the notion there was subtext involved. Almost as if he was trying to communicate something to her, without saying it outright.

Starla quickly revised her original denial. "I'll help. But it had better be a good cake." She fluttered her eyelashes, hoping the movement would erase her prior statement.

The stallion helped her up from her seat, and led her past a series of steaming ovens and stressed-out ponies. They passed the dessert station completely, ending in a room that few patrons had ever seen before.

"My office." Cookie narrated. "Not that it does anyone much good, the way this place ends up running."

"You're starting to make me worry I'm never going to get that cake." she said.

"Who said you weren't getting cake?" he said, as he pulled a mixing bowl and several ingredients from the desk. "Just because it's private doesn't mean it lacks provisions."

Cookie Dough leaned over to preheat the oven, and suddenly was gone. Starla protested, but only managed to knock over a sack of flour, filling her eyes with a white powder. It went around, and around, and—

It kept spinning. It was just a kaleidoscope, nothing more. Twice the object had fooled her with these visions, and while she knew the shame was on her, addiction is a powerful force to be reckoned with. Starla was thirsty now for love, and while the toy could not bring it to her, it dulled the pang for a moment or two. She clumsily fiddled with the gears, trying to find a setting she had not yet exhausted, and was rewarded with another new illusion.

Splotches of paint formed the medium, as they danced all over her precious white eyes. The more she spun the scope, the more colours she saw, until they fused into the most confused rainbow she had ever seen.

Her artgazing was interrupted when a few white flakes of something fell on her cheeks, competing with her natural freckles.

"Apologies, cherie." Artie's familiar voice called out to her. "I guess I got a little carried away carving this new sculpture."

This made her squint a bit. The more she looked at it, she was still sure it was a painting of a confused rainbow. Precisely how it was a sculpture, and by what mechanism he produced flakes of white dust from it, she had no clues.

"Oh, that's all right, Artie. I just wanted to see what you were up to. You're usually so quiet on duty."

"I've learned not to open my mouth too much on Star Fleet duty." he said. "It's a useful skill, you know. It keeps me from making a fool of myself all the time."

"Like Rhymey?" Starla asked.

Artie made an overly-dramatic pantomime, the type Rhymey tends to do all the time.

"Exactly like Rhymey." he teased.

Artie climbed down from his 'sculpture' and took a moment to examine it. "Sorry to ask you, Starla, but...do you have any idea what I made here?"

Starla didn't like guessing games. "I guess you'll have to explain it to me."

"Oh, that's not good." he said. "I don't have a clue what it is, either. At least I won't have to stare at it for too long. The Grand Ruler is probably going to blow it up with rainbows before too long."

"Some things never change?" she said.

"Exactly."

The two of them shared a laugh about his artistic blunder while trotting home. Eventually, they came to a fork in the road.

"Looks like this is where we part ways." he said. "Orange to the left, white to the right. Well, it was nice chatting while we could."

Starla wasn't ready to come to an end that quickly. "In Orange Range, where you're from...do you ever eat shortcake?"

"Orange shortcake? We eat it all the time. Do you like it?"

She shook her head. "I don't know. They don't have it where I'm from."

"Well, that's not good. Come on, let's go try it. Besides, there's still dust on your mane from earlier. You can wash it out at my place."

Such scandalous behavior! Offering to feed her orange food...and asking her to wash her hair at his place? She found his openness tempting.

"Is this what everypony who is orange acts like? Open to everything" she asked.

"Probably not." he said. "But the colour rules are stupid anyways, right? If we want to hang out together, we deserve a chance."

"Artie, I think this is a lot more than just hanging out." Her lips quivered as she finished saying it.

"Then it's more than just hanging out." he agreed, kissing her swollen lips softly.

"Why did I never feel this way about you before?" she asked. "We've had so many days like this...so what makes this one special?"

Artie gave her a smile. It wasn't a very good one, but at least it was honest. "Today was the day that you left your comfort zone. If you hadn't, we'd just be in a room, not talking like any other day."

"I'll keep that in mind." she sighed. "Maybe that's what I need to do about Lightning."

"It is getting kind of cloudy, isn't it?" Artie said. "I didn't know it was supposed to rain today."

"No, I mean-"

She was interrupted by a crash of thunder, jolting the kaleidoscope out of her hands. She opened the drapes and found there was a storm outside. It figured. The closer she got to happiness, the more work the Grand Ruler seemed to do to take it away from her.

It was already late into the night; hours had passed without her knowledge. The library was closed, and there was nothing left to do but shut the drapes, take off her armor, and go to sleep.

She tossed and turned on the bed, the storm combining with her muddled thoughts to keep her awake. Before she was perplexed as to why she was ever with Lightning, and now she was less sure than ever. It seemed like everypony she knew was talented, considerate, or at least friendly. She couldn't think of a single adjective to describe the stallion she thought she knew so well.

Eventually, she mumbled herself to sleep, but it was not a happy one. That night, that mare witnessed many nightmares.

To be continued...