Blue Notes and Balloons

Vinyl led the way up a narrow, dimly lit staircase. Bluenote averted her gaze down to the steps directly in front of her to avoid staring at the DJ’s rump the whole way, as interesting a conversation as that might have sparked. Fifty or so steps of lightly inebriated gait later, the two musicians were overlooking the club floor. Employees cleaned up the aftermath of the party to a mellow track by Fountains of Mane.

Bluenote looked at the synthesizing machine in front of her. Two keyboards set the base, and behind them were a few dozen pads marked with drum names by masking tape. Past those were at least a dozen sliders, most of them pushed all the way forwards. Further back still were hundreds of knobs locked in a grid, labeled for pitch modulation, equalization, reverberation, stereo balancing, and a myriad of other effects. Connected to the huge machine was a much simpler short box that sat next to it on the long table. Under its blank display screen were a dial for master volume and jacks for headphones and input. On either side was a turntable, both covered with unmarked black vinyl.

Scratch laughed at the blue mare’s attempts to understand the complexities of modern music as she pulled a Gaitway laptop out from underneath the table. The computer began its boot up and vinyl lifted two pairs of huge Sennhalter headphones next to the synthesizing modules. The percussive sound of the drop shook Bluenote from her momentary trance, and Vinyl snickered again when the blue mare’s body tensed up. “Put a pair of those on,” the DJ demanded simply.

After a minute of trying to open the headphones, fumbling them to the ground a few times in her clumsy hooves, Bluenote donned the equipment. Vinyl telekinetically plugged in both pairs, lifting the oversized headset to her ears. Her horn illuminated soft white for a moment before the computer recognized the magical signature and allowed access to the musical machine.

It booted straight to a synthesizing program nearly as complicated as the hardware in the booth.

Okay. I forgot what I was doing with this story. There was about a two week gap between the last paragraph and this one. I buried the possibilities I laid out for any semblance of plot in the first three sections, and there’s nowhere I could go where I wouldn’t grow to hate my writing. Fic / writing experiment abruptly ended.

Thanks to everypony who left comments. Thanks to the ones who give 4 and 5 stars for convincing me to keep writing, and thanks to the 2 and 3 star ratings that tell me I need to do better. (If you give a 1 star rating and don’t comment explaining why, I won’t love you anymore.)

The next time I write, I hope that I avoid so much extraneous detail in my description. I also want to have something happen. I’m thinking a cutie mark parlor, exploring morality and legality (and technology) of Equestrian body art. Please leave any thoughts in the comments.

Sorry I couldn’t give this story any resolution or anything. I’ll try and choose a good story next time.