Steven Magnet - Character Background
Steven was hatched in the murky depths of the Manebrush River under the name "Mur-Okhra'i", meaning unknown, but the language is presumed to be that spoken amongst the sea serpents. There, his parents and instincts taught him to hunt. However, this little sea serpent was never one to kill cute little innocent creatures, and so painstakingly disciplined himself to eat nothing but plant life. This, among other things such as his feminine behaviour, caused him much ridicule amongst the other reptilians, whom considered "manliness" a virture. However, this never affected him - he simply stuck his chin up and went on his merry way, past the bullies. That is, until things got physical. The other serpents began to beat him up fairly often, until he could finally take no more. He swam home as quickly as possible, and informed his parents he was leaving the cove for an indefinite time. Of course, they were very reluctant to let their little son go, but eventually deliberated that it was worth it and waved a tearful goodbye. But, ever the parent, they set one definite rule, which was not to be broken under any circumstance:
"Don't interact with the ponies."
After obliging, the young serpent set off towards the surface, and wasn't to return for a long time, not until long after the following events of this story. However, Steven is always very happy to see his parents, and the feeling is mutual. They're so proud of what he's become! Then again, they don't know that their son hasn't kept to his word.
Soon after emerging to the surface of the river, he came across some zebras travelling through the Everfree forest, and asked them for directions to anywhere that wasn't where he had come from. Note that Steven did not know the difference between zebras and ponies, and assumed that all ponies looked and acted this way until he actually met a pony. Soon enough, though, Steven had struck up a conversation with the zebras, and noted one of them had some fine facial hair, and inquired him about that. Steven was instantly enthralled with the concept of a moustache, and decided to grow one himself. But even better than the idea of facial hair is what to do with the long mess of the stuff on his head! The striped conversationalists suggested a comb, but they were obviously far too small. Using the hands equine creatures lack, he fashioned a rudimentary comb out of sticks and leaves and cemented with river mud, and swept it back. What a fabulous feeling! The serpent repeated this motion over and over until the entirety of his mane was coiffed to his liking. He obsessively checked his reflection in a pool of water on the bank, just to make sure it was perfect.
Next, the craggy, dirty, disgusting nails the amphibian had grown on his fingers over the course of a lifetime were ground to a nice, round taper with a rough stone, courtesy of a suggestion regarding a 'hooficure'. "These ponies sure know a lot about fashion!" Steven had said to himself.
The conversation went on for (what seemed like) hours, and the zebras noted this sea serpent had a very "magnetic" personality. He had almost forgot - he needed a new name - a pony name! Mur-Okhre'i just wouldn't do if he wanted to fit in with these delightful creatures! At first he suggested just Magnet, but the zebras agreed it just didn't sound right. Steven is a very sentimental serpent, and so decided to include one of the zebra's names in his pseudonym, as a memento of his gratitude. The one he picked, out of a possible three?
Steven. Steven Magnet.
Of course, the newly-named Steven knew it was his duty to return to the deep and share his tales and skills with his fellows, but couldn't bring himself to meet his former bullies just yet. And so, he continued his journey forward, exploring the unknown and hopefully meeting some more ponies.
Eventually, the Manebrush River cut through the heart of the Everfree Forest, and Steven obligingly followed. By the time he got there, it was midnight, and the reptilian was positively starving. The moon was high in the sky, surrounded by peacefully twinkling stars. However, despite the serenity of it all, there was something that didn't feel right - almost as if the moon was too large or something... Suddenly, four of those stars slowly began spiralling into the moon, something which obviously wasn't supposed to happen. And as soon as the stars gave one final flash and disappeared behind the cratered ball, a whirlwind suddenly swept through the air, rustling all the leaves upon the trees, and teasing Steven's mane out of perfection, with unfortunate, jagged, and impossibly difficult to undo, curls at the back. "Nightmare Moon's first crime against fashion", reminisces the serpent.
Unsure of exactly what happened, Steven confusedly continued looking around the area for some food. The venture seemed nearly fruitless, with all the edible vegetation nonexistent or just out of reach. Oh, how he wished he had legs, to walk amongst the fashionable, kind ponies! But, he was to be forever jailed in this abominably scaly form. Finally, survival and instinct overtook fashion, and Steven plunged his head underwater, further ruining the coif. After several minutes of grabbing at the murky stones and sands that lay beneath, Steven was about to give up. Finally, out of the corner of his eye, a perfectly green, deliciously edible bushel of seaweed glimmered, like a ray of hope in the gloom of the night! The sea serpent clawed ravenously at the food, his mouth watering (as if it weren't wet already) at the prospect of a meal after hours of travel...
As quickly as Steven's mane was ruined, the tides rammed higher and higher above the banks, flooding far over its usual stream. The moon, closer to Equestria than ever before, must have affected the tides! The placid water suddenly became a rushing torrent, and the seaweed was ripped out of the ground, mere inches from Steven's grasp! The rumbling of the rushing rapids (not to mention a particular river monster's stomach) was a mere drone over the shrill wails of a crying Steven. A ruined mane, and a stolen meal? How could this day get any worse?!
As it turns out, there was a way! Eventually, Steven came to grips with his strife and wiped away his tears. But, just as the last sniffle issued away from his nose, a whirring noise came whistling through the ghastly branches of the Forest's trees. Before he could even blink, an evil, jarringly purple, downright tacky puff of smoke whipped by at breakneck speed - and evidently, moustache-break speed. It came right up to Steven's face and... and...
TORE THE RIGHT HALF OF HIS MOUSTACHE CLEAN OFF!
All that was left was an ugly little sprout of hair erupting jaggedly, ruining the symmetry of it all! Steven began to wail and scream even louder now, and his tail thrashed through the white waters. Burying his hands in his face, he screamed, "Oh, what a world, what a world!" Two balled fists dove down into the river, more water splashing into the air.
"Umm, excuse me sir?" A voice suddenly rang out. A sweet, calm, voice. Another pony, perhaps? What if she was here to make fun of him? Ugly, old Steven? Still, this serpent had quite a fondness for ponies, and wasn't prejudiced, if not a little self-conscious. Turning around, Steven found six ponies, brightly coloured and staring at him inquisitively - quite unlike the striped ones before, who simply looked upon him as they would anypony else. "Why are you crying?"
Aha - so she wasn't pointing it out! Still, Steven could use some pity right about now.
"Oh, I don't know - I was just sitting here, minding my own business when this -" Steven hesitated, unprepared to recollect this traumatizing events. "-tacky little cloud of purple smoke just whizzed past me-" He added a hand gesture for emphasis. "and tore half of my..." Steven swallowed, taking the moment of silence to bend closer to the ponies and point to the object of his sorrows. "...beloved moustache clean off!"
His face contorting with tears, body following suit, he continued, a catch in his voice, "And now, I look simply horrid!" Steven resumed howling, and fainted into the water. Unfortunately, all the water displaced by his massive figure drenched the ponies in river water, and put quite the scowl on their faces. Although the sad serpent could only see this when he returned to the surface, resting his chin glumly on the water's edge.
"Oh, gimme a break!" A spectral pegasus scoffed.
"That's what all the fuss is about?" An orange pony in a hat drawled.
"Why, of course it is!" An ivory unicorn with a very stylized mane, the same colour as Steven's body, stepped forward, a very eloquent note to her voice. "How could you be so insensitive!" It was quite true - how would they react if they lost their most valuable possession?
"Oh, look at him!" A babyish tone, but cutesy if anything. Now, the pony was right up to Steven's face. She rubbed his chin comfortingly. "Such lovely, luminescent scales!"
Steven sniffed. "I know...!"
"Your expertly coiffed mane!"
The serpent sprung up and ran his hair through his mane. It squeaked from all the dirty lake water it had been exposed to, but it shone nonetheless. "Oh, I know, I know!"
"Your fabulous manicure!" The unicorn looked tiny from up there, but her words had equal impact.
That comment struck a chord with Steven. Gesturing theatrically, he replied, "It's so true!" and squished his face in a cutesy-wutesy manner. It didn't have much effect when you're a river monster, but it worked for the moment.
"All ruined without your fabulous moustache!"
Oh, why must she bring it up? Steven shielded his face from what must surely be their aghast expressions. "Oh, it's true, I'm hideous!"
"I simply cannot let such a crime against fabulosity go uncorrected!"
Suddenly, the white pony dug her teeth into one of Steven's scales, and yanked. Steven shrieked out in pain, "Ow! What'd you do that for?" Yet, wordlessly, the violet-maned unicorn carried on. The raised scale in her mouth glinted like a dagger in the moonlight. "Rarity," the first pony to Steven called out, "What're you-" and before anypony could react -
SHE CHOPPED HER TAIL CLEAN OFF!
Steven could not stand for the catastrophe of it all, and fainted onto the riverbank once again. "Rarity", or so her friend called her, tossed the scale aside and surrounded the severed lock of hair with a magical aura. It slowly floated over to Steven's face, and fused to his right nostril! His moustache was whole once again! He couldn't help but let out a yelp of joy, proudly showing off his new fabulous appendage. "My moustache! How wonderful!"
The serpent was so distracted with his new moustache he didn't even hear the ponies converse amongst themselves behind his back. Besides, what could they say but compliments? Though "smashing" was definitely in there somewhere.
It seemed that everything had turned out perfectly, as the river had stopped rushing, and was placid once again. Then again - maybe Steven's uncontrollable thrashing prolonged it just a teensy bit...
"We can cross now!" The lavender unicorn exclaimed, and began to canter across the river. "Let's go!" Anypony, especially a friend of Rarity, was a friend of Steven, and it was time to show them some gratitude. Besides, who would want to risk pruning their hooves in the water? Steven allowed his humpbacked body to erupt from the water, lifting Twilight Sparkle into the air. "Allow me!" said the serpent, and created an overwater pathway for the ponies to cross the river.
Steven still has Rarity's tail today, although not on his face. The two ends of the moustache evenly coloured just seemed better. But, he's always kept it in a box, just for memories. Besides, he is incredibly thankful to that generous pony. He remembers that salvation from his darkest moment, and it inspires him to do his best to beautify the underwater world. Today, he's been searching for other aquatic creatures who share his zest for fashion. He also hopes to meet some more ponies soon!
First Taste of Business: Prologue
The morning sun was a glorious sight, glowing cheerfully upon all of Equestria. It was the dawn of all life, its rising the most dependable and guaranteed thing on the planet. The golden pearl rose to a fanfare of yellow starburst, receiving the passed torch from the moon and its pedestal in the night. Ponies took solace in its appearance, knowing that Princess Celestia still loved her subjects, and delivered them the ultimate necessity. It was even easier to appreciate its true beauty in an area unperturbed by equine society. The sun’s rays cast long, snaking fingers of warmth unto all it surveyed, the light glinting like diamonds in the morning dew as it rolled off the many rows of trees; The stretches of shadows peeling off every hill, plant, or animal, a mirror of swirling darkness of our realm... Yes, a pony-free world was truly a muse to behold...
Well, almost pony-free. But what impact did one humble little log cabin, containing three ponies sleeping blissfully, have on the general serenity of the Whitetail Wood? The natural symphony of life - The rustling of leaves as the breeze rolls by, the pitter-patter of woodland creatures emerging to face a new day - still marched on as ever. The house did not have the forebodingly tall smokestacks of a factory that billowed black smoke, nor spew a toxic sludge of waste into the nearby river. In fact, it did quite the opposite.
White Pine and Samara built that cabin together, with the sole purpose of making as little adverse effect on the environment as possible. Sick and tired of the ways modern Equestria was hogging the resources to themselves and for their benefit, and even corralling the other sentient creatures into pens and milking their produce, the couple quickly married and escaped the grid, to start new life in the Wood. And, just as the natural life cycle occurred around them, they soon found themselves with a bouncing little foal of their own, a vibrant gleam in her deep blue eyes and a vivid crimson-and-pink mane.
An autumn child, the filly was born directly in view of a maple tree, its foliage a spectrum of colours - from butter yellow to a most gorgeous shade of red. As a sentiment of their gratitude to the Cosmic Matriarch for giving them this opportunity for life, the new parents named the foal Maple.
Many years passed, and Maple grew into- Oh? It seems I’m going to have to cut this detailed exposition a tad short. Our ‘heroine’ appears more than a little anxious to begin the act. However, as not to busy her with recording every little thing she or anypony else does or says, I will still be her faithful narrator. Now kick back, relax, and enjoy the show! Oh, and please don’t call the Fourth Wall Police on m-*BEEEEEEEP*
{• • • • •}
~ping111 and Andifferous present~
A FIRST TASTE OF BUSINESS
Cast/Characters:
ping111 - 
Andifferous - 
And many more zany characters to come!
First Taste of Business: Chapter 1 Part 1
Now, where were we? Ah, right, the morning.
The sun had now risen to its summit high above the clouds, and added a touch of humidity to the crisp autumn air. The natural chorus of the woods was in full swing now - the birds were chirping and cooing and flapping their wings, the squirrels scurrying about, looking for that one perfect nut - but inside that little log cabin in the woods rang out... laughter?
Yes, there was much joy to be had inside White Pine’s and Samara’s, his wife’s, humble woodland home. The reason? Why, it was their daughter’s birthday! On this day several years ago the young couple had been given this little foal life, and named her in sentiment of the beautiful foliage of the maple tree. Who would have expected she’d go on to earn her Cutie Mark in the fine art of extracting sap from her namesake and caramelizing it until golden-brown and sweet as sugar?
It’s always been Maple’s dream to share the fruits of her super-special talent with the world, but her parents had never considered her old enough to make the long journey to the city on her own. But this birthday was different. After much pleading last year, White Pine had finally caved in and taught his daughter the art of commerce, as well as some basic literacy and math. But we’ll get back to that. For now, LET’S PARTY!
{• • • •}
Maple awoke with a wide smile on her face. But before she could even say a word, a sweet sound graced her ears - music! The familiar tittering whistle of the pine flute, at the expert hooves of her mother, were a rustic symphony unto themselves. Maple had always thought that Samara should perform with that wooden choir, blowing in the melodious notes of better days, harmonious years. Perhaps the ears weren’t the only things to be serenaded. Maple closed her dreamy eyes and took a deep breath, taking in the scents around her.
Ah, the pioneer-esque musk of the wooden walls was always definable, reminding ponies that hard work creates great leisure; the calming aroma of the river wafting from the sheets - you could almost hear the crashing of the mighty stream, spritzing drops on your hooves if you stood too close; and... and... what was that sweet smell? Wait, is that...
WAFFLES!?!?!?
The filly’s eyes snapped open, and tears of joy formed at the corners of her sapphire eyes. She violently ripped the caramel-hued velveteen blanket that had warmed her through the night off her body and sprang out of bed, already galloping a mile a minute when she hit the ground. Oh, waffles! She had only been able to experience them once in her life, but she knew one thing. Waffles were undeniably the best, fluffiest, creamiest, and ultimately delicious thing anypony has ever concocted! It was even better than her maple syrup!
Wait a minute.
Pearl-white hooves adorned with scarlet armbands skidded to a stop and similarly-coloured haunches collided with the floor, their owner deep in thought. With an aloof smirk, Maple decided to put her new-fangled math jargon to use. Hmm... Waffles equals delicious. Maple syrup equals delicious. Delicious plus delicious must equal...
POSITIVELY DIVINE!
Two oceans of blue snapped open to full attention. By Celestia almighty, this momentous feat must be done! As if in a trance, the filly’s body told itself to scramble to its hooves, race to the pantry, and rip the door open, almost off its hinges. Amongst the many bottles of food, drinks, and preserves was the diamond in the rough, the tasty needle in the haystack, sparkling happily with an amber glow like a gooey star - her own, hoof-made maple syrup! Maple grasped the little glass bottle in her mouth and continued on her galloping to her breakfast, which would now taste infinitely better.
The flute’s song was getting louder now, and a familiar tune was recognizable - “Maple’s Lullaby”. That song had been gracing its namesake’s ears ever since she was a little foal, but the song was still fresh and exciting (as well as tranquilizing) every time it was heard. Ah, what wonderful memories it brought back - of simpler times, of better times... Of a mother’s sweet embrace as its foal’s eyes fluttered closed, to bring forth a new realm of dreams... Or, in this case, birthday waffles! Huge, golden-brown, square-holed, buttermilk waffles - on her birthday!
Maple had the urge to burst into the kitchen to an invisible fanfare, tackle the plate containing her prey, and gobble the dimpled discs whole. But, being the polite little filly she was, she settled for a canter, her eyes ravenously hunting for the prize. The music had lost all traces of a muffle, now very much audible, and equally as beautiful. The kitchen had a whirlwind of senses all to its own - the windows letting in scenes of nature by the dozen, vividly portrayed in the sunlight; there was always that sweet aroma of something cooking, making you ache to have that something in your belly; and of course, the amazing taste of Samara’s cooking.
Finally, after what seemed to be an infinite trot down the hall, the floor finally had the cool feeling of linoleum. Had Maple expected the tumult of cheering ? Had she been prepared to be swept high off her hooves, to be wrapped up in a minutes-long hug? It seemed to be a frame out of a dream, too picturesque to be true... But everything was going perfectly.
Utilizing a time slot occupied by repeated smooches on the back of her craned neck, courtesy of some soft lips that smelled a bit like oranges, Maple peered around the kitchen like a hawk, searching for that steamy pile of waffles. Well, the most obvious place for it to be was on the kitchen table, which was set in a red-and-white gingham picnic blanket - Maple’s favourite fabric! - yet the trio of white dinner plates sitting atop the checkerboarded sheet remained empty as a clear sky. Perhaps they were trying to hide the waffles, for them to be a surprise? No - they wouldn’t do that, seeing how she’d clearly notice the smell. But then, just as White Pine was gently lowering her daughter back onto her hooves, she saw them!
The waffles, golden-brown and ready to be devoured, were still sitting in the frying pan, which once sizzling and bubbling with oil but now subdued to a mere hiss. There they were, and the glorious shimmer they appeared to radiate brought weakness to the filly’s knees. So, Maple simply stood there, awestruck, with her knees trembling and eyes the size of pie trays. Curiously, her parents attempted to follow her focal point, until they realized with a chuckle just what had their foal so aghast.
”Oho! So it’s the waffles that finally got you out of bed, sleepyhead!” said White Pine, rustling Maple’s crimson mane with a strong hoof. ”Does the birthday filly want some?”
Without a second thought, Maple sprung into the air and almost hit the ceiling with her repeated chants of ”Yes yes yes yes!”. She only stopped her frantic bouncing when White Pine’s hoof drove into her head once again.
”Then sit down and eat, silly filly!” White Pine said with a guffaw at the adorableness of it all. ”But what’s that you’ve got in your mouth?”
”Mahuw hyruph,” Maple replied clumsily, forgetting that she had the bottle in her mouth. She silently beckoned to her father, whose horn began to glow in an emerald aura and slowly lift the bottle from her mouth. “Maple syrup,” she repeated slowly, but still holding her cute little grin. ”For the waffles.”
The next quarter-hour or so was lost to the waves of incomprehensible pleasure crashing like a torrenting river through a certain filly, whose mouth was chock-full of buttermilk clouds and maple syrup aboun. Those two fit together like day and the sun - it was just meant to be. There were many “mmm”s and “oh my Goddesses this is amazing”s to be had that day.
Finally, Maple found herself once again, reclining blissfully on her chair, hooves resting on her bloated belly and eyes closed. Little fragments of explosive flavour still dotted her mouth, and she explored the crevices of her teeth with her tongue, searching for them. What a birthday it’s been already, and it’s barely just begun! What exciting events lay waiting in her itinerary? Maple opened her mouth wide and yawned at the pure relaxation and bliss she was experiencing. Sometime while Maple was savagely ripping away at her breakfast, Samara had opened the window, and an autumn breeze rolled in, blowing softly on Maple’s face. It certainly was chilly...
”Cold, isn’t it?” Samara said, in her calm, soothing voice. Whenever Maple heard it, she knew things were going to be okay no matter what. With her eyes still shut, Maple nodded slowly. ”Here, let me warm you up...”
Very gently, Maple felt a pair of small hooves lift her back off the chair and something slip over her forearms. It didn’t weigh as much as one of Father’s fur coats, but it certainly was nice and comfy. Slowly, two oceans of sapphire fluttered away from their sleepy recesses and scanned over this velvety blanket. No, it definitely wasn’t Father’s fur coat. In fact, it fit her perfectly! Was it made for her? Maple held out her hooves in front of her and craned her neck, observing the new garment. It was a deep maroon in colour, with a gorgeously dainty lace design outlining the stitch. It was a vest Samara must have made just for her! And how creative a delivery!
”Do you like it it?” Samara cooed softly, with a slight grin on her face. ”I made it myself.”
”Like it?” Maple inquired with a questioning look on her face, although her eyes were swimming with happy tears. ”I love it!” Maple sprung up and wrapped her mother in a tight hug. ”Thank you so much for making it!”
”I’m just glad you’re happy.” Samara smiled wide at her daughter’s display of affection. ”Maybe you can wear it on your first business trip...”
”Yeah, that sounds go-WHAT!?!?” Maple gawked at her mother incredulously, hardly believing her ears. Could they really? Could it be true?
”Yep, that’s right, Mapey,” White Pine emerged out of the corridor with a wide smile on his face. [color=]”Your mom and I have been talking, and we’ve decided you’re old enough to go out and do business.”
”You mean... selling my maple syrup?” Maple questioned, her eyes brimming with tears of joy once again. What incredible fortune she’s been having!
”I made that vest so you’d always have a reminder of home, even if you go off to the big city for long periods of time.” Samara said, almost whispering.
The tears were flowing freely now, and Maple outstretched her hooves to yank her dear father into the hug. She cried with a lump in her throat, ”You guys are the best!”
