Chapters Note from author: I like to write, but i have a few quirks that I must apologize for. First, I am no master of grammar, and i have no editor. Second, I often jump from past to present tense, and back. I hope you can forgive me for my poor writing and short chapters, but thank you for even reading this!
The sun was shining, the birds singing. It was as beautiful as a day could get. And I hated every second of it.
I sat at my desk, slumped over a clean piece of paper. For weeks now, nothing has come, nothing has inspired me as things once did. I am a wreck I thought as I reached for another can of cider. Just as I popped the cap.
“Duke?” A voice called. “You down there still?”
I turn my head ever so slightly towards the door and up the stairs. “Yes Fruitcake, I'm still here.”
As she comes down the stairs she sees the mess on my desk and the half empty twelve pack of cider on the floor. “For Celestia's sake Duke, you need to get out and see the light.”
“Why?” I ask. “What good what that do?” I almost spit.
She looks almost taken aback. “You sit here day in and day out trying for inspiration, well why don't you go and find some, huh?” she says, irritably.
I slump back over in my chair. “And you don't think I've tried. Three months, Fruitcake. Three entire MONTHS!” I shout. “That's how long it's been since I wrote anything.” My voice drops to a whisper. “Three months since I’ve played anything...”
Fruitcake looks at me with sadness in her eyes. “Maybe Duke,” She says softly. “Maybe you should just take a walk.”
I see it in her eyes that there was no way shes gonna let me sit here another day. “Fine.” I say with defeat in my voice. “But it wont do any good.” I whisper, so she can't hear.
As you may have gathered thus, I am an artist, a musician to be specific. My calling is the saxophone, I love it with all my heart. And no, Fruitcake isn't my mother, nor my fillyfriend, she's my sister.
Three months ago was the last time I performed. I played a piece of my own creation at the Full House, a bar here in Seaddle. It was the first show I did in months, a booing success, and I thought it was the start of new inspiration. But sadly, no. Since then, nothing. Nothing at all. So I sat, in our apartment, doing nothing but sitting there and drinking cider almost beating my head against the wall to come up with something, but anything I came up with stunk like dog manure.
So here I am now, walking down a small path in the park outside of our building. As I said, it was doing no good to help my writers block. Walking past the same trees, the same benches, the same stones.
“IT'S JUST ALL THE SAME!” I shout. “The SAME, same, same.... HA!”
I had it. I knew what to do.
“That's a great idea Duke.” Fruitcake says. “But how will I afford this apartment without you?”
“Don't worry,” I reply. “I have a savings account that should cover rent for the next few moths, and by then, I can send you money if you need it.”
“But Duke,” She says with the same tone of voice. “What are you gonna do when you get there?” she asks.
“What I do best.” I say, the grin on my face growing ever larger. “Make music.”
I sat at the train station with my sax in it's case, my ticket in hoof and a small bag of bits to get me by for a few days til I sorted something out. It would have seemed grim except I was so unbelievably happy that I didn't care. I'd get a job if I needed to, but leaving Seaddle just, at the time, felt right.
I looked at the time, my train would leave in five minutes. I picked up my things (well, thing, I guess) and headed off to station 14, where my train was waiting for me.
It was a small train, not many ponies traveled to Ponyville, being such a small town. But, through Ponyville was the cheapest way to get to Manehatten, and it still left my small bag of bits feeling a little to light (a bit to light, if you will).
A brown earth pony wearing a brightly colored outfit took my ticket as I got on the train. I'd never been on a train before, no reason to. So I looked around a bit and finally took a seat in the second to last car. Even with the size of the train, few ponies were on it.
I leaned back in my seat and let the tension of earlier today fade, preparing myself for the long trip.
()No use in being over exited, might a well relax a bit, eh Dukie?() I thought.
As the train started to pull out of the station I heard a voice outside the car.
“Wait for me.” the voice shouted. “Wait wait wait WAIT!” it shouted louder.
The pony who had taken my ticket looked out to see the voice. “Hurry miss, were leaving!” he shouted back.
Then I heard a thump and something breaking.
“Oops, my bad.” said the voice.
“No problem, miss.” said the brown pony.
Ah well , I thought. Now back to relaxing
I heard hoofsteps coming towards me and I opened an eye to see a gray mare with bright blond hair and some bubbles for a cutie mark sit down beside me. I closed my eye again.
Twenty minutes into my ride I heard a voice.
“Hiya!”
I opened and eye. “Hello.” I said.
The gray mare took this as an invitation to a conversation I was not prepared for. “I'm Ditzy,” she says. “But most people call me Derpy.”
I remain silent. I wasn't in the mood for conversation, and hoped that Ditzy, or Derpy I guess, would get the message.
Nope. “Whats your name?” she asks, not at all put off by my lack of enthusiasm.
This time I open both eyes. “Duke, but please, I'm trying to sl-”
“Woah, whats up with your eyes.” she says innocently.
Ah yes, my eyes. I'm not the most normal looking pony out there, I'm orange in color, but parts of my mane and tail are black, along with what look like black tiger-stripes on my body. But the oddest thing about me is definitely my eyes. One is a very pale gray and the other is a very deep scarlet. I saw a cat once with one amber and one green, but never have I ever seen anypony with either a gray, or red eye.
But taking my first good look at this mare, I noticed something.
“I could ask you the same question, deary.”
Her eyes were the color of her hair, pretty cute, if you ask me, but what made me say what I probably shouldn't have said was that one was looking up and the other was looking down.
I probably shouldn't have said anything because a look of sadness passed in front of those lop-sided eyes.
“Um..uh..” Ditzy stammers.
I close my eyes and try to go back to sleep.
Not a minute later I hear a little sob. And I realized what I had done.
I hate being mean, it always makes me feel awful.
Ditzy sat there, eyes closed, quietly crying at the mean old colt who had just pointed out her 'difference.'
I reach out and put a hoof on her shoulder. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-”
“It's fine.” she sniffs. “I asked you about your eyes.”
“Yeah.” I say, more confidently. “But I feel all bad now.”
She looked up at me. “It's okay, really, I just wasn't ready, you know?”
I nod. “Hey, lemme make it up to you.” I say. “Howabout I buy you one of those muffins I saw in the little buffet they have.”
Her eyes immediately lit up. “They.... have.... MUFFINS?!?!?”
As soon as the train got to the station, I was off of that train. Derpy was nice and all, but OH MY BUCKING CELESTIA she talked so much! After I bought her, what was it? 20? 30 muffins? I can't remember, it was a lot, she talked and talked and talked. I, trying to be nice, talked back to her... for eighteen hours. We talked about Seaddle, and my life there, and how her vacation was, and how her life in Ponyville was, and what muffins she likes, and this and that. I was just relieved to be off that train.
My first thought after getting off the train.
Food.
my stomach rumbled in agreement. So I started walking. After I got out of the station I saw a sign for a little cake shop. I was pretty into the idea of cake at that point, so I started off in that direction.
Ponyville was a cute little town, I passed the town hall, which Derpy told me an... interesting... story about. I passed Sweet Apple Acres, said to have the best cider around. I like cider. But, unfortunately for me, it always sold out. I passed some fashion boutique, noting it in case I wanted to get Fruitcake something. I walked past a tree, then realized it was a library. Books are cool, I guess, so I went in.
“Hi!” said a purple unicorn as I entered the tree/library.
“Hello.” I say pleasantly.
“Anything I can help you with?” she asks. “I have books on everything! I just loooovvvveee books!”
I think for a minute then ask “Do you have anything on music theory?”
“Hold on a second,” she says cheerily. “I'll B-R-B.”
Then a voice mutters from the second level of the library. “Seriously, Twilight, I told you to keep those shorthands to texting.”
I chuckle a bit to myself. Then I look around at the library. A nice little place it was. Lots and lots of books, with an odd little statue of a zebra in the middle of the room. I'd met a zebra once, when I was young. She was nice and all, but she only talked in rhymes, which is where I draw the lines.
She comes back in from the other room with several books. “Here you are, mister.” then she turns to the voice. “And I don't care what you say, Spike, it's fun.”
I hear the oh so unique sound of a facehoof.
I take a look at all the books, I pick one from the bottom that sparks my interest.
“The Art of Bass” it says.
It looked interesting enough, so I bought it and on the way out.
“See you L-8-R.”
A pause.
“For Celestia's sake, Twilight.”
I chuckle to myself and head off to the cake shop.
When I get there, I walk in and am greeted by a pink earth pony with crazy hair.
“Hiya!” She says. “I'm Pinkie Pie! Well, that's not my real name, but that's what most ponies call me. I like it because it has pie in it, but that’s in my real name too, but my real name is kinda a mouthful-”
Not again... “Hi,” I interrupt. “I'm Duke.”
She looks puzzled. “Why are you thinking in italics?”
“What?” I say, confused. “I don’t understand what you're saying-”
“Don’t be silly, silly!” she says. “Everyone knows you're supposed to think in BOLD , it looks so much cooler.”
“Whaa-?”
“Oh, never mind, silly.” She says. “What can I get you for? Or get for you, I mean, don't you hate it when you mix up words-”
Her tail starts twitching frantically, then she shoves me out of the way as a potted flower lands next to me.
“Um...” What just happened? “A cake, and some lemonade please.”
“Okey dokey lokey.” She turns away and shouts “And can (B)you(B) stop narrating everything I do, its annoying!”
Pinkie, I'm telling a story, can you please not break the fourth wall so much?
“But it's just so annoying!”
C'mon, the readers are expecting a story.
“Oh, HI READERS!”
Please, Pinkie?
“Fine, but only for the readers.”
“Excuse me, but why are you yelling at the wall?” I ask.
“Oh...” She stammers. “No reason... I'll be right back with that cake.”
The cake was good, I was confused, and the sun was shining. I was happy. Why? I don't know, but my adventure sense was tingling, and Pinkie Pie, although odd, had reinforced this.
I mulled about Ponyville for a while longer, then headed off to the train station to catch my train. This time the train was much bigger, and many more ponies were on it, but they all seemed to be content to sleep. It was an overnight express, after all. So I slept, dreaming about the days to come. It was so exciting! I had only been out of Seaddle a few times before, but never this far.
The station that the train arrived in was massive. Dwarfing the station in Seaddle ten fold. We arrived in station 63a. As I exited, I almost shivered from the excitement, this was going to be awesome .
I found a map of Manehatten fairly quickly, I saw the Manehatten Auditorium and Theater. That’s where I was to go, to find out about the music scene here. Then I'd have to find a place to stay for the night, but I was so amped I didn't even care at that point.
I got outside the of the train station, and the first thing that hit me was the size. Seaddle had big buildings, like ten, but the buildings here went on for miles and miles.
“Whoa.” I smile. Let it begin .
I call a cab.
“Yessir?” the cabbie asks.
“The Manehatten auditorium and Theater please.” I say.
“Going for the concert?”
“Concert? I just wanted to talk to some ponies there. I didn’t know they were having a concert.”
“Well, it's more of a recital, I guess, but yeah, hurry and you can make It in time for the last few performances.”
I smile again. “I'll pay ya double to speed.”
“Sure thing boss.” He grins.
When we got there, I got out and payed him, he insisted on me not paying double, so I didn't. Not too many bits in that bag you know?
When I finally got in, there was only one recital left, a gray earth pony who played the cello. It was the best cello playing I’ve ever heard. It was magnificent. After the show I went to talk to the director of the place. The ponies there were nice enough to let me into see him.
I knock on his door. “Come in.”
I open the door. “Hello, sir.” I say nervously.
“Come sit down.” he says invitingly. “I can't say I’ve seen you around here before, my name is Frederic Bales, owner and operator of this magnificent establishment. How can I be of assistance?”
I cough, a bit nervous. “Hi, my name is Duke, I play the saxophone, I came here, from Seaddle, for some inspiration and hopefully a chance to perform here.” I cough again. “If that’s not too much to ask, sir.”
“Saxophone you say?” He eyes me closely. “Well, show me what you can do, and can you take off those glasses? I like to look at ponies eyes while they play, shows me if they've got heart, you know?”
I gulp nervously. I always wear sunglasses to keep ponies from seeing my eyes. Derpy was an exception, not many ponies were on the train, so I took them off, but I usually wear them in public. “Alright.” I say. “But be ready.”
He lifts an eyebrow as I remove my glasses and open my gray eye. “Well, I can say I’ve ever seen gray eyes before, but that’s not too odd, now is it?”
I open my other eye. “Ah, I see.” he says. “Now, that’s pretty cool, and funny enough, I’ve seen red eyes before.”
“Really?” I ask.
“Yup, onetime sompony came to one recital to watch Octavia play. She too wore shades, but she dropped them and I caught a glimpse of her red eyes.”
“Octavia? The cellist that just played?” I ask.
“That's the one.” He says. “Good isn't she?”
“Understatement of the century, sir.” I chuckle. “But let me play you something.”
I chose to play a piece that I wrote, I call it Back to Basics, because really what it is is quite simple, but I think, quite beautiful too. And when I was done, apparently so did Mr. Bits.
“That was very nice, Duke.” He says. “I've never seen as talented a saxophonist as yourself, how about you show up next Tuesday in the main auditorium, there's a group that practices here, and I'm sure they'd be glad to have you.”
OHMYGOSHOHMYGOSHOHMYGOSHOHMYGOSH! “Thank you, sir.” I say quitely.
The flight (yes, I'm a Pegasus) home took what felt like days. I was so happy with myself.
I fumbled with the keys for what again felt like days.
I rush through the door, into Fruitcake's room and give her the biggest hug of her life.
“Hey!” she coughs “I know you didn't like your walk but violence is not the answer.”
I pull her back “No I didn't like the walk, I loved it.” I say, beaming.
“Pray-tell.” she says eagerly.
“It's all the same!” I shout. “The SAME!”
“Huh?”
“That's why I have writers block, cause there's nothing to write about!”
Still confused.
“Duke?” she says cautiously.
“Yeh?”
“Remember when I told you not to eat those mushrooms you found?”
“Yeah, why?”
“Did you eat them?”
I look at her for a second. Then I burst into an uncontrollable fit of laughter.
“No Fruity, I didn't even get that far.” I say joyfully.
“Alright then,” She replies. “Whats gotten you so worked up with all this sameness and whatnot.”
“Don't you see, I've already written about the trees and the birds and all that stuff.” I say. “I need new things to write about!”
Thinking ahead of me as she so annoyingly does. “So where do you plan to go?”
“Well, Fruitcake,” I say, happy as can be. “What's the music capitol of Equestria?”
“Duke, I just bake cakes,” she says. “How the hay would I know?”
“Manehatten!”
