"Come on, Benny. Your metaphorical oasis in a wide, dry desert that is my complete and utter lack of something to write about has been drained by my co-workers, unless you still have something to say that you haven't said so far" Striking Detail said downtrodden as he walked away from the typewriters. He opened the door with his hoof, but didn't bother to push it open. Instead, he left it ajar and simply kept walking. What then happened is that the horns that slightly protruded from Detail's face pushed the door open neatly and he could pass in one smooth-ish movement. He beckoned the dragon to follow, and thought about the office's lobby, where he, if there was no need for sleep, would spend more time in living than his own home. "I know a room in this building that's more luxurious than the best apartment I can afford working here. And if I lose this job, I will lose both of these places to stay in, so we better think of something."
If there's one thing that his horns aren't good for, is thinking of something. For some reason, they're only good for gut instincts. Come think, Detail now is pretty sure that, other than hunger, he does in fact not feel any gut instincts in his gut anymore, as if his horns communicated that they would take over that job. Why, oh why would it then be replaced by headaches? Detail did not look in front of him as he walked to the lobby in an almost automated fashion, ignoring the helper ponies struggling with transporting coffee, ink and paper. Sunken deep in thoughts as to what he could write about, he hoped that the dragon could come up with a story that would place him in the papers. But if there was something he needed right now, it was an oatmeal biscuit. "Benny, do you have any ideas?" he asked, as he might as well. It's not like he could ask the changelings themselves.
A headache built.
Avabella smiled at the young mare in front of her enjoying tea as much as she did, and poured with respect, ending the pouring with a little flourish letting a last droplet of tea create ripples on the surface.
Ripples. She heard the question, and started thinking how to bring this diplomatically. In an effort to buy time, she decided to levitate a biscuit and inspect that first. Being slightly opinionated, and definitely aware of that, she now had to make a decision based on professionalism. In a business influencing public image on a large scale, you can't help but start to worry about your own.
Would this mousy, tea-loving delivery mare tell on her if she went for the honest truth? Or would she not have to worry about word coming out? She briefly thought about the dragon in this very building that would command her to tell this mare otherwise, but went against her gut to tell her the truth anyway.
She started pouring her own second cup as she formulated her answer. "Unlike what the guard would like you to believe, integration into our society which is based on trust and friendship is going more rigidly than projected. We, the paper, as public influencers, are obviously obligated by the guard's programs to tell a good story. Truth be told, me and most of the writers recently got bitter leads lately. One that tells of misdeeds in the city, yet again rumors of changeling attacks popping up around the city. I considered what to do. Lie to the ponies, and say everything is all-right with every changeling they meet, in the hopes of bettering their public image? Or expose dirty deeds, and that nobody's fully safe from them?
But that's our side. I'm still tasked with improving their image regardless of these attacks. And surprise, surprise. Asking the entire population to trust a species especially known for their malicious usage of near-perfect shape-shifting is a very high standard". Finishing her story, Avabella then noticed she almost over-poured her cup of tea and quickly tilted the pot upright again, lacking any subtlety or flourish. Sheepishly, she then put down the pot.
She bit into the oatmeal biscuit and gazed into the distance in reflection. "I don't know how I would react if I saw a changeling. I'd like to say I never have, but you don't know anymore nowadays. For all I know, you could be one!" Avabella chuckled. "As delivery mare, you must have gone to all sorts of places. Do you have any changeling stories? You could get them featured in the papers, if you want".