My little Artist: Music is Life (Working Title)

by Golden Script

Rating: everyone
Tags:
Length: 953

An artist is brought to realize that individual ponies have different tastes.

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2017-02-05 01:25:59 UTC

An Opening Act

A train sped north, towards the snowy mountains of the Crystal Empire. Though the temperature outside of the train was well below freezing, the enchantments on each car kept its occupants nice and toasty.

We find our heroes in a private train compartment. A light orange pegasus taps the hoofrest with a pair of drumsticks held in his wings. What little mane he had was held tight against his head by a small cap, and his burnt orange tail was cropped short. He seemed to be in a constant state of discontent, but those who knew him well could tell that he was just lost in thought.

To his right sat another stallion, this one a unicorn, who seemed to be holding a dramatic pose, as if in a Shakesponian play… but with his hooves much closer to his barrel. Even the most inexperienced musician could tell that he was caressing his instrument of choice—a guitar (though that guitar was made of air). What little light broke through the constant overcast fell directly onto his mustard yellow coat, bringing a vibrancy to it that seemed unnatural on the stoic stallion. His daffodil yellow mane and tail were cut short, his mane almost reaching his eyes when pulled, and his tail barely falling below his barrel.

The third and final occupant of the small space was a blue earth pony who was lost in thought as he stared out the window at the passing clouds and mountains. The glasses that balanced on the tip of his muzzle reflected the passing scenery like the stallion’s thoughts. His vibrant blue coat was covered by a brown leather jacket, and his navy-blue mane had a white streak through it. A hoof idly brushed a stray hair from over his glasses, then lowered itself to a small, triangular patch of darker fur just below his lips, as he imagined the train’s wheels as the back-track to a quick, steady opera.

“Can I get you anything else?”

All three stallions were caught off guard by the mare in the door. She seemed to be only barely holding back her excitement as they stared at her. The blue stallion shifted in his seat, drawing attention to himself, and was then silently nominated to answer for the group.

“Uh, no, I think we’ll be just fine.” He glanced at his cabinmates to make sure they were in agreement—which they seemed to be.

“Alrighty, then!” she chirped, noticeably disappointed.

“Actually!” the unicorn called after her before the door shut. His pegasus friend groaned to himself and rolled his eyes as the earth pony looked on in amusement.

The mare jumped at the chance to return to the compartment. “Yes? What can I get you?” she asked, balancing precariously on two hooves after her lunge.

“Uh…” he hesitated, only then realizing there wasn’t anything he really needed. He thought quickly, glancing at the cart she’d been pushing down the small hall of the train. “I’ll have a glass water.”

Simple, easy, universal. Water, one of the base elements of life.

“Sure!” she squeed, jumping to the cart’s refrigerator to pull a pitcher of water and cup from the cooled container. Half a second later, an ice water was in the stallion’s hoof. “That’ll be one bit, please,” she chirped happily.

“Oh, horseapples,” he mumbled to himself when he noticed he didn’t have any bits on him. He patted himself down, then looked at his friends for a spot. The pegasus rolled his eyes once more at the unicorn’s antics, and the earth pony gave him a sympathetic shrug. “Uh…” he looked back to the mare at the door.

“Oh, don’t worry, it’s fine.” She began to reach into her own saddlebags, but was stopped by the unicorn again.

“Wait, what about…” he said as his horn sparked to life, pulling an oddly shaped hard-case from the overhead compartment. A few latches were undone and a beautifully crafted, pure white with gold trim guitar. One of the pockets began to glow as a teardrop shaped piece of plastic levitated from its resting place. He held it up in his magic so she could see. “What about this?”

She seemed absolutely dumbfounded, still staring at the pristine instrument that was sitting less than a stride from her. She suddenly noticed the tiny plastic pick with the word “Dash” etched into it. She stared, mouth agape, at the plectrum for a few moments before reaching a hoof tenderly out to it. The stallion lowered it into her hoof, releasing it completely when he was sure she had a hold of it, and then went to close his guitar case.

“This will work,” she mumbled to herself, then realized that she was still standing in the compartment’s door. “Thank you for your patronage!” she spouted before quickly moving to the next room, letting the wooden door slide to silently shut.

The room was dipped into relative silence again. The earth pony and the pegasus looked to the unicorn, who looked back and forth between the two.

“What?” he asked, lifting the cup to his lips and taking a sip. “I’m parched.”

Both criticizers rolled their eyes, one with a smirk and the other with a frown.

A train on a plane of snow drifted silently in the white noise of a blizzard, quickly approaching the Crystal Empire’s capital. Soon there would be a celebration, brought to life with art, dance, and music. The main attraction: a band composed of Back Beat, the drummer and percussionist; Quick Plectrum, the guitarist and backup singer; and Xanadu, the bassist, pianist, and lead singer. These three made up one of the most popular bands in Equestria.

Dash.