A Day in the Life of Creative Spark and Write Idea
Creative Spark awoke with a jolt, barely a fraction of a second before her alarm clock rang. Now, you might be asking yourself why she would jolt awake. Well, she had an idea.
Creative Spark is the kind of pony that you wouldn't generalize as normal, like the rest of the populous. Her hair was usually unkempt, stray knots here and there. Her hair was blue, and light blue. She was a white pegasus with a light and dark blue pentagon as her cutie mark.
She yawned as she raised her front hooves above her and stretched. She then nearly instantaneously nabbed her idea booklet. 'The booklet' as she simply referred to it as, was a evergoing list of ideas for her roommate, Write Idea. The inspirations were many a variety of things. From romance to comedy, and from western to sci-fi, not a single genre nor subgenre was missing. This morning's inspiration was of dystopia. A tyrannical leader monitoring their citizens. She shuddered, remembering the story of Sombra. She shook her head, and continued writing.
Not soon after she finished, was there a smell wafting from the kitchen, symbolizing that Write Idea had, in fact, woken up. Today's menu was blueberry pancakes with butter and syrup. "Good morning, Write." She greeted, sitting down and setting the booklet on the table next to Write's plate.
"Good morning, Creative." Write replied cheerfully. Write Idea, like Creative, was also a pegasus. But she was yellow with a light red hair, but not so much as to be classified as pink. Her cutie mark was a pencil drawing a light bulb, and they both shared light blue eyes. Both of them were not, however residents of Cloudsdale. Instead, they were humble residents of Ponyville. "Any new ideas this morning?" She asked, serving out the pancakes.
"Yeah, take a look." Creative replied, stuffing her cheeks with the fluffy delicacies. A moan of joy escaped her mouth as she continued to eat. "Are you sure your special talent isn't cooking?" She asked, knowing the answer. The question had been asked so frequently, it was no longer necessary to respond. Write simply rolled her eyes and read through the fresh ideas.
Write was a writer by trade, and earned a pretty bit each time a book went out. Allowing her, and her idea providing roommate, to live in comfort. Now, not so much comfort that they were pish-posh buy whatever we want, but rather, enough that they could house a half dozen ponies if they so chose. Every once in a while, somepony would chastise her or Creative about Creative being the 'lazy' of the two, how she didn't do anything, and she was a catfish. Now, every time that came up, Write made it clear it was not the case. Since she had ties to Equestria Daily, she could easily make a fool out of her or her roommate. She was not, however, usually the kind of pony that abused their power like corrupt leaders in Dystopian novels.
As she looked over the ideas her roommate had written down, she gradually had an idea grow in her head. And grew that idea did, until it was at the point of her flying out the room, up the stairs, and to her typewriter.
Creative simply finished her breakfast, and cleaned the table without so much as a backwards glance to the staircase. It was all in the daily routine. She then grabbed her saddlebags, and called up the stairs, "I'm off to the market to get some more supplies! You need anything?" She waited for a response. Sometimes it was more paper, ink, nothing, and once even a new typewriter. As she waited, she trotted to the kitchen islands and snatched up the grocery list. Today was simply orange juice, pancake mix, and some cereal.
Not soon after, a shout from upstairs came. "Ink and paper today, thanks!" With that, Creative quickly jotted down the two extra things with her ink and quill. Not to mention a new quill. She looked at her quill, which was quite warn. She had always meant to replace it, but she never had found the time.
As Creative opened the door, she heard the familiar click-clack of the typewriter working. She smiled, and without further hesitation, she left. Closing the door behind her, she inhaled deeply as she made her way to the market. Celestia's sun shone brightly as she trotted at a medium-pace. A few ponies waved, a few nodded, and one of her best friends, Donut Joe, tossed her a donut. Which after he called, "It's on the house!" She knew this, of course, because he did it every day. And it was always her favorite type. Triple-chocolate.
As she made her way to the stands, each and every pony greeted her with good morning, or simply a warm smile. She returned all with a mimicked gesture. Eventually, she found herself in front of the Sofa & Quills store. She happily trotted inside, and picked out a quill that wasn't too pricy, but was't not durable either. She gladly paid the stallion behind the counter, and made her way to the library. She was glad she was finally able to get herself a new quill.
The giant tree-house was filled with many a book, from which she got her ideas. It was never plagiarism, of course, but they did have one or two similarities every so often. "Good morning Creative!" Spike called, from his perch upon the second highest rung on the ladder. He was currently organising her favorite genre, as he always was after the rabble-rouser colts and fillies came through. Without much speech needed, he tossed down a new book with impeccable aim, straight into her empty right saddle-bag. "We just got it this morning! Twilight said that you'd love it!" With a smile, she set her old books on the table in front of her.
"Have a good day, Spike!" She called. He closed his eyes and waved. She giggled, and counted to three. On the third second, there was a muffled 'woah!' followed by a crashing sound. Indicating that Spike had, inevitably, fallen on the floor. Creative then began her day of meandering around Ponyville, a pleasant grin plastered on her face.
-Intermission. Insert tap-dancing pony GIF here.-
Write Idea flexed her wings and hooves as she halted her speedy 100 wpm writing. One would call it witchcraft at how fast she typed with mere hooves. She took a glance out the window at the clock tower, and as the clock struck 3 p.m., Creative Spark walked in with the her portion of the days' groceries. She got up and pulled a notepad out from her dresser near her bed, which contained multiple lists. Seven to be precise, one for each day of the week. She flipped to the third page labeled, "Daily Essentials for Tuesday." As per routine, she simply nodded to Creative Spark, who nodded in response as Write left the house. No verbal communication was necessary, as it was simply their day-to-day existence. The sun was lower on the horizon, which basked the sun in a beautiful golden light. Write never enjoyed it much, though, as it happened every day. It would have been better as if, say, the two swapped roles. They had before, but with consequences.
Write, much similarly to Creative, meandered around the market picking up the essentials on her list, as well as a few odds and ends such as some new binding for her story rough drafts, coloured ink for special occasions, and some envelopes for that time of year when they got holiday greeting cards. With precision timing, she was able to pick up a batch of cupcakes from Sugarcube Corner with a 50% discount. She had that 'Sneaky Sneaky' skill. Of course, as per every day, she had a short conversation with Pinkie Pie, who continuously insisted that she poofed her hair up for 'special storage' for items. Also, Pinkie just wanted some extra storage, because for some miraculous reason her so dubbed 'hair suitcase' had filled. Nevertheless, Write was able to dispel the thought and got her to try to get some other pony.
Luna's glorious night was soon upon them, and Write Idea trudged home. She smiled as she collapsed on her bed, the groceries set on the table. Her roommate's snoring easily heard in the silent house. She smiled, and rolled over. She had one final thought before she fell into sleep; Just another day in the life of Creative Spark and Write Idea.
