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SirAizen

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SirAizen last won the day on February 9 2019

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About SirAizen

  • Rank
    Blank Flank
  • Birthday 07/23/1999

Profile Information

  • Gender
    Colt
  • Location
    Thompson, OH
  • Interests
    That would include. . . Watching anime, writing stories or fanfics, character creation, and reading in my spare time. I draw. . . sometimes. . . (don't ask me about it rEEEEEEEE)

RP Characters

  • Main Character
    Candy Cain
  • Character 2
    Cheese Sandwich
  • Character 3
    Hyper Jack

Role Play Information

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    Sir Aizen#8576

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  1. (Just bumping this thread - I sorta want to do something with Candy again, just not sure what. Go on and post/PM me if you're interested!)
  2. "Yes ma'am!" Cheese also had a pause on the idea of adding those assorted chunks into the cupcakes, but let it slide. Those would be good, but he needed something bolder. Something that would surely reveal itself later on, when they were done with the cupcakes and couldn't add said ingredients. That was how all good ideas worked, sadly. . . you only got them once they were irrelevant. Once, Cheese had gotten the idea to have s'mores at a camping party. That would stick with him for the rest of his life, a stain on his career. . . Cheese shook his head. Enough of the weepy stuff - he had cupcakes to make, and Pinkie was waiting! The stallion nodded at Pinkie's suggestion, glad to be free of the awkward phase of their talk. "Sure thing! I'm pretty eager to put my hooves to good use, honestly - baking all day sounds like a good way to do that!" Maybe he was pushing it a little. . . Pinkie would eventually want to know more about his problem, and Cheese would have to answer. It had already been a problem back when his pride was getting in the way. Now, he was letting other, more foreign feelings get in the way of simple speech. This would be a doozy to work out for sure. . . He could do it, though. If there was one thing Cheese sandwich was known for, it was solving problems. . . usually problems he'd caused! Cheese quickly took two trays of the cupcake himself, balancing the two on his back. Some might've been worried that he'd drop them, but Cheese was pretty good at faking things like imbalance. He let the tray wobble precariously for a few moments, before righting them and easily making his way over to the oven. He laughed a little, sliding both into the oven and closing the door. "Same here! That sounds nice and simple - a good change from the craziness I've had up to recently. After these batches, I'd certainly be down to make 'em!" Cheese sounded a lot more sure of himself now that the focus wasn't on him. He could let his worries slide to the very back of his mind once more. . . hopefully nothing crazy happened while the cupcakes cooked. Then again, who didn't like a little crazy? "Oh - I know what! I'll get started on the caramel, and you slice the apples. Once the jalapeno cupcakes are done, we can put those in two. Sound like a plan?"
  3. "Gotcha!" Cheese grinned from ear to ear, pouring the diced jalapenos into a nearby bowl for later use. He wasn't sure if he'd be keeping them diced or shredding them. . . no. He'd definitely shred these - chunky cupcakes sounded like possibly the most disgusting thing ever. Just the thought of it made Cheese look a little green. He scrounged around for a blender underneath the counter, glancing back at Pinkie for a moment. "Ooh, more cupcakes? Sounds good to me!" Eventually Cheese resurfaced with a large blender, before snagging one of the cupcakes and taking a large bite, which left a mustache of frosting on his face. The look might've been funny, but Cheese's slight worry somewhat countered that as he asked Pinkie for assistance later on. Luckily, she didn't press. . . he mentally face-palmed. She probably wouldn't have said yes - or worse, she would've asked why he needed help. This was his forte, wasn't it? He was so preoccupied with his thoughts that he almost didn't notice Pinkie's sudden embarrassment over. . . something? Well, she was blushing. . . perhaps she'd been having similar thoughts or something like that? No, no. . . why would she need his help with something? That was just crazy-talk. He still felt as if he should check on her, though. "Uh, you okay? You've never made that face before. . . did ya take a bite of the jalapenos? Trust me, they're fresh - no need for you to burn your face up over them, ha." It turned out that she was worried over Gummy - which was sort of pointless, as the gator had been sitting motionless for quite some time by then. Perhaps pinkie had forgotten? Well, it didn't matter. He needed to get these cupcakes going, stat. "Well, now - I think I've got it. You want me to get these jalapenos blended up with the cupcake batter? I figured that it'd be better than chunky cupcakes. . . ugh." Cheese made a face, holding Boneless Two up as if he were doing the same. The rubber chicken merely flopped over slightly. Cheese made as if to pour the contents of the bowl into the blender, though he watched Pinkie's face, waiting for a response. He was caught off-guard by her sudden take at being more social, though. It was just a casual question, but he had to think about it for a second before answering. "Um. . . Fine?" Okay, that was really weird. Cheese usually had more to say than that. Why was casual talk the thing that made his jokes screech to a halt? He tried at a funny line, just so that he didn't seem awkward. "Er, as fine as I can be with this giant bowl of peppers. I swear, they're burning out my eyes. . ." It was true: the curly-haired stallion's eyes were tearing up slightly from being so close to the diced peppers. It was better than onions, though. "Y'know, the last time this happened, it was at a restaurant that specialized in spicy things. I was so tired after everything that I fell face-first into a bowl of chili. Now that hurt!" Cheese laughed for a little bit, even though it wasn't all that funny. After awhile, the laughter died down, and he found himself in that awkward phase once more. He bit his lip, trying to think of something else to say. Anything else. "U-Uh - what's up with you?" He hoped that was enough to keep things casual - well, as casual as things could be between two party ponies, one of which was holding a giant bowl of japalenos.
  4. Candy had been a little more focused on the apple basket than Applejack's response, so he worried that he might've failed to exchange a farewell with her. No - he had forgotten to do so. He'd just been too insistent on apologizing to do it earlier. He turned to shout out a farewell just as the mare called out to her brother to aid him with the bushels. He, well. . . it was safe to say that he didn't say anything one could really make out for the first few seconds. Still, he got a handle on his nerves - barely. He resigned himself to simply accepting the assistance, though not without a small, "Hullo," to the other stallion. It was safe to say that the embarrassment phase was over for Candy. . . he'd gotten his apples, and he was on his way out. Oh, dear. He certainly hoped that he was back to his usual social self if Applejack or anyone else showed up to his place. Otherwise, he'd be better off just quitting. No one liked watching a timid stallion making candy art. Well, maybe some people. . . but certainly not the majority. Candy laughed a little at the thought of messing up again sometime in the future, and resolved to deal with the issue later on. For now, though, he needed to head out of town, and get working on those candy apples. Once he'd arrived at the cart and all the apples had been safely placed inside, Candy gave an uncharacteristically short thank you to Big Mac. Maybe that was just him being too nervous to say too much - though the red stallion hadn't seemed like one to talk much, so it didn't seem like it was necessary to say more than thank you. He hooked himself up to the front of the cart, and was once more on his way - somewhere. This time, he'd probably end up setting up camp somewhere just outside of Ponyville, just since he already felt tired. He could start working on the apples anywhere, so it was fine. Work would hopefully keep his mind off of other things until he was done. . . "Oh dear - three hundred-and seventy-five apples. That will be quite the task," he murmured to himself. Hopefully he could maintain the energy required to keep at it this time - otherwise, he might end up having to eat some of the apples to stay with it! *EXIT*
  5. Candy made a sound like air blowing out of a tire. There were probably several dozen ways he could mess up a kiss. If he were the one giving it rather than receiving it, what if he was sloppy about it? Or what if it was too long? He didn't want to come off as rude to her, of all ponies. "Now, I didn't say that. Or rather, I wasn't trying to. . . I was just implying that. . ." Applejack's comment about him imagining her as Big Mac made him cock his head to one side slightly. He didn't know who she was talking about - at first. One glance towards the pony she gestured to sent a hot flush to his face. How had he not noticed the lad before? It seemed impossible to, now that he'd seen him. And he was still staring. The pink-haired stallion put a hoof to one cheek, squeezing his eyes shut. How embarrassing. . . He was supposed to be better than this. Since when did Candy Cain act this flustered? "N-Now I hardly think that's -" he began, tail flicking nervously, before his attention was drawn back to Applejack again. Despite all the time he'd wasted on preparing for the kiss, he still wasn't fully prepared for it. Surprisingly, though. . . it was just that. A kiss, and nothing more. Cain looked a little blank in the face for a moment as his brain tried to make sense of his earlier concern. Yes, maybe he'd been expecting something a little more dramatic out of it - something that he could mess up in some way. Luckily, receiving a kiss was nearly impossible to mess up. ". . . Oh," he finally said, blinking a few times. "M-My apologies. I guess. . ." After a moment, he appeared to process the fact that he'd actually been kissed, albeit on the cheek. He was happy for that - otherwise, he might've fainted. He couldn't get the image of Big Mac doing it out of his mind, however. His face reddened even further as he continued speaking. "I-I suppose that my mind was too busy thinking up drastic consequences for the unlikely scenario that I botched this. . ." Candy looked away, slightly annoyed. Why was he like this? When it came to gatherings, parties, shows, or other social meetups, he was completely fine with social interaction and everything that came with it. When it came to just being regular old Candy Cain, though. . . that was a whole other story. 'Oh dear. . . I'd better hope that I don't go on a date in the near-future. Otherwise, I might just have a heart attack.' Candy put the last bit down on the counter, giving a half-smile. "In any event, I apologize for the, um. . . the general time-wasting, ehe. I guess it was just my original surprise and confusion combining itself with frayed nerves. . . and sugar." Candy frowned. Yep - he'd had a piece or two earlier. That would probably explain his fast-paced talking earlier. Perhaps he'd just chill out in his cart for a little while after leaving. . . he didn't want to assault anyone else with his worries and pointless chatter. He had an image to upkeep, and he was doing a pretty poor job of it by acting like a fool while buying apples. Speaking of which, he needed to grab those. . . Candy took the the first bushel with relative ease. There was no way he was moving three of those in one trip. He gave a little wave with his hoof, more focused on keeping the apples from falling than anything. "I thank you for being understanding - and of course, for the apples. If all goes well, I may just end up returning. . ." A glance at Big Mac sent another flush to Candy's face. He shook his head. "F-For apples! You can never have enough of those, eh?"
  6.  minutes since 2019 ended over here. . . I don't feel any different. I've been scammed. You've ALL been scammed.

  7. Candy took a deep breath. Applejack was right - he was being a little too over-the-top about this. He needed to just relax for a moment. Still, a moment was too long right now, He needed to be out of the way of the others before things got ugly. A line that didn't move for too long was bound to explode at some point. He could be calm and courteous at the same time, couldn't he? "R-Right. . . I'd just rather not -" I'd rather not have to actually talk to them. "Uh. . . I'd just rather not accidentally cause a fuss. Still, the more apples I get, the more fillies and colts I can make smile, right?" Candy grinned, turning away to put his notebook back. He didn't want to have to leave the line and ho back into his cart though, so he simply balanced it on his back and shrugged a little. "Jolly good," he said, mostly to himself. Yes, he could just see it now. . . Everyone looking content with their share of sweets, curled up at home. . . Or, well, doing whatever it was they did on a daily basis near the holdiays. Candy? Well, he was usually working. He didn't really think about what he'd do when the work was done. Usually, he found a reason to keep working before that time came. Once the three bushels were out and ready for purchase, Candy began rummaging through his pouch of bits for payment. His ears perked up at the mention of his shop, though. "Hmm? Oh - heh, everyone asks that. It used to be in Canterlot, but now, well . .." He gestured back to his cart. "I work in it, travel with it, fall asleep on the job in it. . . I'm surprised it hasn't fallen apart yet. I bought it for a discount the day I left. I guess you could say I'm a traveling show." Speaking of which, did Candy have anything planned for today? A quick mental check of his calendar told him no, but that didn't mean that he couldn't make an unplanned visit somewhere public. Would they want to see him, though? It was pretty cold today. Still. . . what would he do if they weren't coming? Perhaps he could just get started on the apples. . . He just needed to stay busy. Yes, that was it. "Very good, then." Candy counted out fifteen bits, setting them down on the counter one by one. He was doing it quickly enough, but by the seventh one (and the worried expression on his face), it was obvious that he was stalling somewhat. "Eleven, twelve, thirteen. . ." He began murmuring even slower as the numbers climbed. "Fourteen. . . You know, how are we going to do this? I'm sorry, but the idea of paying for something with bits and a kiss is very new to me. I'd rather not mess a kiss up, since, um. . ."
  8. Candy rubbed the back of his head, laughing a little. "Well, thanks. . . I made sure to put all the necessary time into each and every one. You won't find a single piece in there that isn't p -" No. . . not 'perfect. That was too much. It would feel like a lie if the stallion said it. ". . . Ah, good. Very good, I guess. I don't really finish the ones I taste test, so i'm not entirely sure how each one tastes." At least that was true. Candy liked to taste a sweets out of each batch to make sure they weren't spoiled or flavorless, so he gt his own sugar highs every now and then. Still, he had never once finished a sweet that he himself had created. The closest he'd come to finishing anything was a large cupcake he'd made with intentions of giving it to his older brother on his birthday one year. Still, one thing had led to the next, and Cain had fallen asleep during the boxing process. Apparently Candy was also a sleep-eater, because when he woke up, most of the cake was gone, and his face was covered in frosting. One could assume that it hadn't been a peaceful night afterwards. . . "Still, I'm glad you've enjoyed it so far." The title of 'Super Duper Party Pony' gave Candy a pause. He could've sworn he'd heard the title being passed around back home. . . he wasn't entirely sure. It would've been a long time ago. Either way, he was glad that he now knew Pinkie and her profession. Well, her and her friend, which, by the looks of things, wasn't just a friend. It wasn't his job to pry, though, so he left it alone. "I'm glad we're meeting as well. Oh, and don't worry about the gift - I'm on it." The stallion put the candy apple down, and handed Pinkie her gift. The flat, silver box with a small red bow didn't look too impressive. Still, Candy wasn't done yet. "Well, I guess you can open it now - you wouldn't expect me to work my magic on a sealed box, now would you?" There was a slight twinkle in Candy's eye, which usually meant that he was about to perform some real magic. "You can go on whenever you're ready." If Pinkie opened the present, she would get. . . something. What was it? Some sort of wide silver tray with multicolored sugar dust in it. Sugar, some hints of white and dark chocolate, and other tiny sweet things, like gumdrops and little sparkling candy pieces. What did he expect her to do with it?
  9. Oho. This was was definitely a familiar type. Candy saw it all the time during bouts to go and see little fillies and colts on special occassions. Those were the types that were usually hpyed up on too much suger, but Candy couldn't judge. He. . . well, he ate enough of the stuff. For the sole purpose of making sure his confections tasted good, of course! As a result, he usually ended up tasting several samples out of every batch of goods he made, adding up to dozens of unique sweets for him to ingest. It was a good thing that he balanced it out with a healthy diet and exercise. That wasn't too hard, seeing as he got it every day by pulling his shop around.This 'Pinkie Pie' looked as if they didn't have to worry about being inactive at all. "Hello there, Pinkie - and, no, I'm afraid not. Yakyakistan? Sounds like a place where I could get some exotic recipies." Nothing tropical or anything like that - it sounded like a cold place. Candy wasn't sure why: maybe it was just the name. The letters for "Yakyakistan" felt cold to him. . . Synesthesia things. Candy took the mare's hoof and gave it a firm shake. "The name's Candy Cain - Or Candy Cane, with a 'n-e' rather than a 'i-n'. I just changed it to Candy 'C-A-I-N' to be a bit different from my -" Oh, dear. Candy was dragging on an introduction again. "Nothing," Candy finished, setting down his flat gift. Up close, the gift looked to be wider than an open book. But what was it? A portrait of something? That was for Pinkie to find out whenever she desired. "Likewise, I find it highly enjoyable to meet someone like you as well." Seeing as Pinkie didn't take up the offer for a candy apple, the pink-haired stallion shrugged and took a bite out of the one he'd been holding. There was no harm in just eating one. . . Hopefully things stayed that way. "Oh - I must warn you. Before you open the gift, let me know: it needs a 'special touch' beforehand." Cain would've added in the final touches earlier on when he was creating the gift, but, well. . . unfortunately, his magic wasn't all that powerful. It was unique, but fragile. Very, very fragile. It wouldn't have survived the trip here if he'd added it before. "I have to admit, I'm surprised we've never had a run-in with each other before. Are you well-known here?" Candy was getting slightly distracted by the colors around him. The conflicting colors of presents, foods, ponies, and other creatures in the hall jumbled together to create a symphony (or a crash) of sensations. Pinkie, being the closets of them all, had Candy tasting bubblegum. (I'll edit for bold/color later - mobile is NOT agreeing with me today.)
  10. Candy had been in the process of taking the sweets out of his basket and placing them on the table, taking time and care with each one. He was currently on the candy apples, and was taking his sweet time with each one. "That's it, lads. At the end of the day, you've all made me proud - except for your spoiled brothers and sisters. That's unacceptable, I'm afraid." There wasn't too much going on at the time, as most of the others here were simply conversing amongst themselves. Gift exchanging hadn't started yet, as. . . Well, Candy was pretty sure they were all waiting for someone. He hadn't been there to hear the instructions yet. He'd simply put up shop at a table. A couple ponies were recognizable, but just that. The stallion leaned over the table slightly, sighing. This was certainly a change of pace in comparison to his usual run in or around Ponyville. Maybe things would stay that way. On the contrary, fate seemed to want to shake things up a little. A jumpy pink mare came flying in out of nowhere, really, clad in matching winter gear. She wasted no time making as much noise as possible, using a. . . confetti cannon? Whatever it was, she fired it into the air, drawing the attention of Candy (and probably everyone else). She also took it upon herself to make gift-pairing arrangements, which ended with. . . "Oh, dear," Candy murmured. His gifting partner was her. Was that bad? Most certainly not. Some of Candy's favorite people were zany and fun. Was that good? That depended on what the mare's gift preference was. Cain cleared his throat, clearing his mind. Remember to keep introductions short this time. He hopped on over to the other side of the present table, giving a little bow to Pinkie. "Good day to you, and Happy Hearth's Warming Eve! A pleasure to meet you - the name's Candy Cain, and. . . Well, I'm afraid I am unsure of who you might be." Strange, considering Candy made it an effort to try and track these kinds of people down. He should have at least seen her on Nightmare Night. "Who might you be. . .? My apologies, I travel. Too much, by the looks of things." He held out a rogue candy apple that hadn't made it onto the table yet. "Candy apple? Or maybe a sucker? Buckeye?"
  11. Luckily, Applejack didn't seem too fazed by Candy's rapid-fire speech. Maybe that came from running an apple farm near Ponyville. Heck, that probably came naturally to anyone that ran anything near or in Ponyville. The few times Candy had been there, he'd been pretty overwhelmed, even though he hardly got the time to even talk. Am I really cut out for this? he thought to himself numbly. The unicorn chased away the thoughts by biting his tongue. Of course he was: he had the powers. He had the creativity. And who didn't like candy? Cain gave a half-grin, and tossed his hooves into the air in triumph, simultaneously flinging the candy cane he'd been holding skyward. "Wonderful! I'll take the lot!" Oh. Candy put a hoof to his mouth. Did he say that out loud? He was letting his excitement get the better of him. . . ugh. Candy shook his head, backtracking. "I mean, no. I was only here for a certain amount of apples. I'd never ruin a -" The previously flung candy cane dropped down onto his head, bouncing off and hitting the grass. Cain flinched, then rolled his eyes. ". . sale. For others, I mean. I don't even think that I have the bits for every apple here. . ." Cain busied himself with checking the amount of bits he had, and comparing them to what he'd likely need for the amount of bushels he wanted to purchase. "So, the bits don't really matter at the moment. . . I was looking to get, erm. . ." Candy put a hoof to his chin, a slightly worried look on his face. He glanced back at the line behind him, then back at Applejack. ". . . Three. Three bushels." Three hundred-and seventy-five apples. What was he thinking? The only way I can: big. That was potentially too much here. How many apples would they have left by now? The line here wasn't all too big anymore, meaning that, unless the sale had failed, most ponies had already come and gone. There couldn't be that many left. "Th-That's best case scenario, though! I can make do with two or one. . . To be honest, I'd planned on getting five of the good ones, then making the candy apples and putting them in storage for awhile. A good chill would do them well, and if I run out of sugar. . . Well, I've got chocolate." Candy realized that he was talking more to himself than to Applejack, and moved on. "If you don't have enough of the Empire, I could go for a peck. Either way, I might just take the Jazz and Fuji right off of your hooves. I may just end up taking a bushel of granny smith if you don't have a full bushel of Empire - I wanted to keep things equal, you see. I. . ." Candy frowned. "I'm dreadfully sorry. I've been droning on for too long about what I'm going to do with them -" Candy took his pouch of bits out, and paused. "We can heckle the final purchase, if you so desire. I in no way wish to mess everything up here simply because I required more than a bushel today. To be honest, I should have come out here earlier to buy them in moderation. . . my apologies." Candy rubbed the back of his head, glancing off to the side with a worried look. He was still hung up about the terms of payment. Bits, and a kiss? There probably wasn't a catch, but. . . well, Applejack was by no means a bad-looking mare: in fact, she looked wonderful. Still. . . "I, uh. . ."
  12. Things seemed to have gotten rather loud by the time a certain pink-maned stallion had showed up at the Hall. Candy Cain had been preparing for this gift-giving event ever since he'd seen the advertisement during his daily commute through Ponyville. Back then, he's been ecstatic. A gift exchange? That was just what Candy was looking for at this time of year! He'd just gotten done making his giant batch of candy apples when he heard of the event. That worked just swimmingly; he could send the confections there to start off his candy apple giveaway. After that, he could move on to delivering them to the doorsteps of other Ponyville residents that hadn't shown up to the gift exchange, all wrapped up in holiday-colored paper and bows. It was extensive for just food, but hey. He was going this far for complete strangers. Why not go a little farther? Unfortunately, Candy had been so caught up in the idea of gift-giving that he'd gone and made a few "extra" treats. By "extra", Candy usually meant "several other batches". The stallion just hoped that they all liked sweets, because there was no reversing a dessert once it was made. It was created to be savored. Anything less was a crime of mass proportions to Candy. If something was wasted, the normally-cheerful unicorn would lose his cool. Candy had pulled up to the School of Friendship with his cart, which was laden with sweets of every kind: the numerous batches of candy apples, little chocolates, complex sugary designs that were too varied to count. Even though the thing was covered and locked up to combat the cold and weather so common in Candy's travels, the smell wafted through anyway. Candy Cain had never actually been to the School of Friendship before, so it was understandable that he'd believe he had room to bring everything inside. Unfortunately, he predicted wrong. The front doors were, in math terms, "too small". Candy had resorted to bringing in only a couple things, which at least be polite. The stallion was just now entering the Hall, loaded down with a tray of candy apples on his back and a basket of assorted sweets hanging around his neck. Of course, the candy pony hadn't forgotten to bring a real gift: balanced on the top of his head, a rather flat, rectangular parcel wrapped in silver and topped with a green bow could be seen, wobbling slightly as the stallion walked. He would've given a greeting,but he A: was extremely busy focusing on not dropping anything, and B: didn't want to interrupt the ongoing talking. He resigned himself to setting the gift on the table and setting all the sweet things down beside him. "Oh, dear. . . If those had been the butter-creams, I don't believe I would've made it. . ."
  13. Eventually, Candy resurfaced with an old, beat-up notebook bound with ancient-looking string. He flipped through the thing quietly, trying to hurry along and find what he was looking for. "Honeycrisp, Ambrosia. . . No. Arkansas Black, Winesap? Definitely not. . . Pink Pearl. That sounds interesting, but I doubt it'd taste good coated in sugar. . . Ah." Cain flipped to a page in the middle of the book showing all the uses for a certain deep red apple. "Aha! Red Delicious - perfect!" Cain went through the book for a little while longer, making note of all the other apples that worked best for candy apple batches. slammed the book shut. The stupid thing kicked dust up into his face. He ended up having a sneezing fit, before catching the tail end of a shout directly ahead. Oh dear, it appeared to be his turn. . . There was no point in stalling. The pink-maned stallion leaped out of his cart, toting the notebook with him. He wanted to make sure that he was getting all the apples he needed for the project. Once out and in the open, Candy raised a hoof in greeting. "Ah, well met, Miss Applejack!" He remembered her name, at least. "Allow me to introduce myself: My name is Candy Cain, founder and sole employee of Candy Cain's Candy -" The stallion stopped. He was wasting his time with the lengthy greetings, and it would probably annoy everypony around him. He took on an embarrassed look for a second, before reverting back to his usual attitude. "N-Nevermind that. i had just found myself in the area, so I decided to take a little stroll down here to see if I could purchase some apples for the candy apple batches I usually make for this time of year. I usually have them around for Nightmare Night, but I missed that this year, I'm afraid. Luckily, I'll be able to do it this year for Winter. . . Uh, I heard there was a sale? Jolly good." Candy opened up his notebook, flipping through it to list off the types of apples he needed. "I wasn't entirely sure what you had here, so I needed to check - do you have, uh. . . Red Delicious, Gala, Empire, and/or Fuji? Those are usually the best for it. I could go for some Braeburn or Jazz, but I don't think those are all that common." No, Candy wouldn't be eating them. He only made them for those who enjoyed what he did with desserts and other sweets. Maybe he'd have some when he was finished giving them out, but that'd be it. In actuality, Candy only ever ate sweets when he was stressed. It was odd, yes, but there were stranger things. Like, for instance, the sensation he was getting from the combined colors in front of him. He found it odd and a little rude when he looked at a pony and his synesthesia acted up, but he couldn't help it. Applejack's orange made his mind conjure up the taste of tangerines, but the barn was still giving him super-sugary vibes. The smell of the apples, on the other hand, made him see sunset colors. That was wrong: the actual sunset made him taste oat burgers made on the grill. The conflicting thoughts made his eye twitch for a moment. "Also, if you don't mind my asking, how many of these apples do you have? Based off of my previous projects, I believe I'll need. . ." Cain counted off numbers silently in his head for a moment. "Well, I'm definitely going to need more than a couple bushels."
  14. "Alrighty then, cool beans!" Cheese grinned, stepping over to the cutting board and winking at Pinkie. "Don't worry - I know how to cut Jalapenos. I learned it in a movie once." Despite his joking tone, Cheese proved to be quite a quick chopper of peppers. While Pinkie was away, he shredded pepper after pepper with the quickness of a professional cook. Well, of course: Cheese was a professional cook. How else could you be a uper Duper Party Pony? You couldn't just make sandwiches and and expect everything to be gung ho. "Man, this is easy. I could do it with my eyes closed, I swear!" Cheese might've acted foolish frequently, but he wasn't that crazy. He was finished with the peppers by the time Pinkie came back with the jam. "All good! I think we're done with prep on the filling - we'll just need the actual 'cup' of the cupcake now. Where's the batter?" Cheese busied himself as well, prepping a bowl, flour, eggs, and milk to create the cake batter that would be used for the cupcakes. He made sure to make a giant serving of it, just so that they'd have enough left over for when they made more batches of cupcakes. Cheese had just gotten the juvenile idea to prank Pinkie with some flour when she asked the question he'd been dreading. Uh oh. He turned around as smoothly as possible, putting on his best 'casual' look. "Oh - question? I, uh. . ." What was he asking again? About the party planning, right. . . Cheese still wasn't sure if he wanted to tell her about that. He'd just been betting on the fact that inkie might forget about his question entirely. Too bad she was a good friend that took the problems of others into consideration. . . By all means, that was good and dandy. Just not now. The stallion cleared his throat. "Hmm. I was going to ask, if, well. . ." There was a choice to be made here. Cheese could take this one of two ways: he could ask Pinkie to help with his own personal problems regarding a certain party, risking potential embarrassment, or he could ask her about the whole 'friendship' thing, potentially risking even more embarrassment. Either way, he was likely going to end up making a fool of himself. At least if he messed up with one, the other would seem tame in comparison. Cheese took a breath, cleard his mind. "I was just wondering if. . . About an idea of mine" So it was that, then. More stalling. Cheese braced himself. "I wanted to know if you could. . . help me. Later on." Cheese shook his head rapidly. "I-It's not too important, though! You don't have to help if you don't want to - I'm sure I can handle myself. After all, it's just a single thing." Cheese was half-hoping that Pinkie had some sort of meeting or something she had to get to instead. That way, she wouldn't have to think too much about what he'd say later on. He'd be admitting that his ideas weren't working for a certain party, and asking her for assistance. They were rivals! Well, at least Cheese assumed so. He wasn't sure what Pinkie thought. Still. . . "But, it's your choice. It's not that big a deal I'll, um, talk about it later, if you want. We've still got cupcakes to do, ha." Cheese cracked the eggs on the edge of the counter, and dropped the yolks into the bowl, before pouring the milk and flour in. The thoughts of potential embarrassment faded away as Cheese read the back of the flour bag. "Huh. I thought this was instant mix. Welp. Hope you enjoy sitting back and waiting on cupcakes! This'll take a bit after the blending and all."
  15. Despite the young dragon's politeness, Cain had a feeling that she wasn't quite focused on the talk. That was likely because she seemed to be here for more than apples. She did clear up the problem of Cain not knowing what the deal was with the Kisses, though - and that just made things a lot stranger. Apparently, the Kisses were actual kisses. This was a line to receive bushels of apples in exchange for a few bits and a kiss. That caused a multitude of problems for the pink-maned pony. For starters, he needed a fair amount of bushels. If folks were going up there, there was a good chance that many of them would be gone by the time Cain actually got up there, leaving him with little to work with over the remaining seasons. That wouldn't do - he needed a fair amount of candy apples and other confections done by Winter. Multiple trips in the future to make small purchases just wasted time. There was also the fact that Cain found the whole thing rather improper. Apples for kisses? Cain didn't kiss ponies. He gave them hugs and candy, and sent them on their jolly way. There were several other, lesser but more personal issues with that. . . Perhaps he was just making a big deal out of things. Everyone else seemed to be doing it. . . Still. . . "Oh, dear," Cain sighed. The young one - Smolder, she'd called herself - had already gone up to get her apples, along with several others. True to what she'd said, all of them had payed their bits and kisses, before leaving with their bushels. At least there still seemed to be a decent amount. Cain glanced back at the line behind him and winced. A confection designer's life was hard. . . He hoped that he didn't wipe out the remaining bushels somehow with his order. The stallion chomped down on his pink candy cane in his nervousness, frowning. Exactly how many apples did he need? A good amount of batches of candy apples would require several bushels on its own. If he wanted to add anything else, that would cost him. After a few more calculations, Cain reasoned that he'd need around six. Seven would be ideal. As for the type, any would do. Of course, Candy was a little bad at remembering the types, seeing as he mainly worked with candy and other, sweeter fruits. Berries were his specialty. Luckily, he had just the thing for the situation! Candy hopped back into his covered wagon (which he'd carefully moved off to the side of the line as to not be rude to those behind him) to recover his personal guide to using fruits in confections: Fruits and Confections (a lazy name which he'd likely fix in the future). As usual, the manual was buried somewhere among his numerous other books, which included cookbooks, personal journals which he'd long since filled out, and fantasy stories he read when he was bored and it was raining during his travels. It was rather cramped inside the cart with all of its supplies and personal items, despite the fact that Candy could've sworn that he'd cleaned up that morning before he'd decided to head out and get some apples in the first place.Apparently that wasn't the case (or Candy HAD cleaned, and that last hill out of Ponyville had caused everything to fall inside the cart. "Oh, of all the -" He began, only to be cut off by a book from a shelf above him falling on his head. He yelped, and nearly shouted a few unpleasant things. "Blasted buckeyes," he mumbled, using one of his simpler candy-curses. The thing was around here somewhere. . . Outside, he could hear the commotion of those in line behind him. Hopefully, the fellow in front of Candy could pause a little longer with his order so that he had a little more time to find his missing manual. If not, he'd be the focus of more than a few angry looks and shouting soon.
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