25

Did you know that I used to play guitar? I mean, I haven’t in ages, but it was pretty popular in Flight Academy. See, stringed instruments – I guess mostly music in particular – is supposed to be a unicorn thing, right? But when everypony else has the exact same tools as you to work with, “virtuoso” doesn’t really mean anything. We played thrash – by which I mean flailing wildly around on the strings, pressing our hooves against whatever frets we felt like – and we played it hard and fast, and we even sometimes played it in a key of music.

Grab your friends, get in a band. Obviously, music carries far that way up in the clouds, but I’m pretty sure the coaches would only have cared if we were disturbing them, and we took it away pretty far. Ever heard of Warehouse 6? Used to be a boutique, later the site got repossessed and cleaned out, supposed to be used as an actual warehouse? It never did. I mean, it was open for years, or so I got told, but there was never once a crate of anything that got on in it. Except us.

Or maybe some drug dealers, but who cares? If it was used for crime, that just added to the appeal. We were young, we wanted to believe we were rebellious, and the idea of being associated with the counterculture was massively appealing. In retrospect, why we didn’t get caught or into trouble is still a mystery. Maybe it’s been a tradition – punk fillies blowing off steam and feeling like siblings without actually doing anything damaging?

Not that it mattered. We stunk, all of us, but it was fun. Whoever could play louder and look cooler won, so to speak, so it was kind of like the loudest game out there. Popularity was pretty big, too, since it meant that you could get the best freelancers if one of your classmates had detention or were otherwise grounded on the weekends.

I was in a band with this griffon, Gilda, and one of her friends. Transfer students. We called ourselves Violet Haze and smeared charcoal on our faces and pretty much made up our songs on the spot. Someone would start riffing, and someone else would start playing similar notes, and presto, song. And then Breeze Jumper – our vocalist, pretty good flyer, heck of a voice, smeared her face with rouge and called herself “BJ” on the stage – she’d start straight up making up lyrics and we’d work around her, and it was great. If we ever played the same song twice, it was an accident, because it was totally spontaneous. And also, totally wicked awesome.

Even playing bass guitar is hard when you don’t have magic, but I’d like to believe that I managed. I had the power grimacing down, for the record. And Gilda was our main guitarist anyway. You know how talons can do pretty cool things with fine manipulation? That girl could *pluck*, and she could shred, and at Warehouse 6 that made her queen. Different reasons, but the two of us were definitely close to the top of the heap during our run at flight academy.

I’ve still got this Neighmer Vanguard gathering dust in my Cloudsdale home, is why I’m bringing this up. I dusted it off, tuned it up a bit. Kind of tempted to play it. I’m pretty sure I can remember at least one of the things we played. Okay, never did the same song twice, but that doesn’t mean I don’t remember anything that went down at warehouse 6.

Those were some nights, honestly. If they had been anthropomorphized as ponies, I would’ve married ‘em. But for now, I’ve got my guitar; found it last afternoon. Went up to Cloudsdale to practice a couple of things, for old times’ sake.

Flew over to Canterlot this morning. It wasn’t too hard to find Warehouse 6. Looks the same as ever. I even went inside – still bare, and smelling faintly of cheap alcohol. I didn’t play anything, though. It’s not the same without the band, without the crowd. Even if I went back there, I can never really go back – hopefully you’ll get what I’m saying.

And there are some things I don’t want to remember, or think about. I don’t want to remember Breeze Jumper like that, and I don’t want to remember Gilda like that. And I don’t want to remember Gilda’s friend at all.

So instead, I flew out to this spot by the time capsules. I tuned it low, not sure I needed to, the amp was what made it loud. Still didn’t want anypony to hear me.

It sounds bad. We always sounded bad. But at least the fact that it’s as I thought it would be is a comfort.

If you’re a musician, please teach me how to play better.

Strumming away for now,

-Rainbow Dash

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26

Good news: I actually remember something we played during one of the weekends after the summer sun celebration. We called it “Rock”, ‘cause, uh.

You’ve got to believe it’s awesome, trust me on this, okay?

Lyrics went something like:

“Rock rock rock rooock,
rock rock rock rock rock.
rock rock roooooock,
rockrock rock rock rooooock roooooooooooooock”

…like a minute long. And yeah. But it was seriously the best thing ever written, trust me on this one.

I actually played two notes. They were, uh…

My cutie mark isn’t in music, okay?

@10

Okay, flipped through some of my old records. Ever heard Neighvana’s “Flowering”? this song sounded nothing liked it, but it used a couple of the notes. At least, what I did had it. That’s the closest I can come to explaining it, okay? You want a thorough discussion of music, you, uh…

Pinkie probably knows somepony to talk to about this, but I feel like if I start talking to pinkie I’m going to get dragged off on some crazy escapade and then I’ll never get around to actually finishing this.

But you get my point.

Hey, do you like Neighvana? I mean, okay, not getting an answer. Let me try something else: would it be a dumb guess to assume that you like it? I assume it appeals to introverted ponies more than extroverted ones. Then again, I’m pretty sure that I’m the only pony in our group that likes it, so…

Scratch that idea, I guess?

But if it helps, I like it. It’s not an every day sort of music, but after I got some flying practice in – FINALLY beginning to catch up on my training, more than a bit embarrassing that I let it slip so far – I put some records on while I was in the shower. Different stuff. Interesting stuff. Sad stuff. Beautiful stuff.

Gilda said things about them that I’m not going to repeat here.

Hey, maybe you really *are* a musician. Wouldn’t that be cool, if you were making songs about me? About the elements of harmony? I mean, I guess that’s just another shot in the dark, really.

But if you were, I’d love to hear what you had to sing about us. If nothing else, I bet it’d be very pretty.

One Jamma Lata,

-Rainbow Dash

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27

I asked Pinkie Pie about the music. She recommended half a dozen different ponies to me, then about five hundred records, then asked me to make up for lost friendship time with her.

Apparently, there are so many sunny days coming up (and she’s got a friend with the weather factory how again, exactly? Or should I just assume that pinkie pie’s actually friends with everypony, and that’s not merely exaggeration), that she decided that we needed to get ready for what felt like three months’ worth of picnics in advanced. And, of course, since I was her “company”, that meant I had to help out with the “fun” bits. This means desserts.

And pinkie pie’s a perfectionist about pastries, at least when it comes to party planning. Or maybe she’s just a sadist, I don’t know. Point was, today was cupcakes day, and it was our “job” to take care of the ones that weren’t up to snuff.

Given how good a baker pinkie is, I’m pretty sure that all the “mistakes” she made were an elaborate setup.

This is worse than the rock candy incident. I have never felt so bloated in my entire life. Lugging my butt back to bed felt like trying to walk a marathon with five saddlebags filled rocks strapped to my waist.

Okay, more like ten. I really hope I don’t barf. That would be embarrassing. I guess this is punishment for not being able to say “no”. ~~which is rather fitting~~

Okay, I don’t know why I keep doing this, this…trying to say whatever’s on my mind and then constantly pussyfooting around the issue. Is it because I’m desperate to try and find solace, but am unwilling to take the final step? Because that would be profound of me to say, and also rather revoltingly stupid. You read that earlier bit about psychoanalysis, right?

Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

Okay, I think I’m just being weird because I’m feeling sick. Then again, all I can really think of doing besides writing to you is thinking about how awful my stomach feels, and I could honestly use the distraction.

Which is really uncomfortable. I can’t remember the last time I was bedridden because I was sick. I’m tempted to say never, actually. Though come to think of it, nopony really gets sick in our group. Is that coincidence, or is it a side effect of being one of the elements of harmony? Or maybe it was retroactive – like we never got sick because we would eventually become the elements of harmony? Or if that even makes any sense

putting this down for a while, I think I’m going to hurl

@5

false alarm. I still feel awful, but at least I don’t feel explosively awful. Which is good.

All this thinking is tiring me out. I’m going to power nap for a while.

Hanging in there,

-Rainbow Dash

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28

crudcrudcurdcurdcrud I know this letter is late I’m sorrrrrrrrry

I slept through the entire day. Woke up at, like, ten in the morning. Everypony had the good grace not to disturb me. Pinkie wanted to know if this was a warm-up for when we get ready to make sandwiches, which I turned down. I hope politely enough. I think she took it as such.

Anyway, I’m even more behind on my wing training since I skipped yesterday, so I’m taking a rain check on today’s letter. Will write more tomorrow, though!

Also, speaking of rain, I think pinkie’s right in that the sun’s going to hold out for quite a while, so no need to worry about getting poured on while collecting one of these. I don’t know how long after I write these letters that, um

okay you know what grammar isn’t my strong point

the time it takes you to pick up the mail

after I drop it off

I guess?

Whatever, you get my point. I think. I hope. Okay, point was that … whatever. I don’t even care anymore

I’m gonna go fly now.

Later,

-Rainbow Dash