Colors Of Life

by superjman

Rating: everyone
Tags: Slice of Life
Length: 3295

Story of Split

This is the story of my OC Split.

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2013-04-25 02:01:25 UTC

Brown

Split was waiting in his living room. He had arranged with Melody for a carriage to pick her up at the local Star Buck to bring her to his studio which was the upper floor of his house. The driver and she should have been there already, but Split was not too concerned since his house was in a busier part of the city, and therefore it might be a bit difficult for a carriage to navigate the traffic and pedestrians quickly. He had prepared fresh Rose Petal tea and had it chilling since it was warm outside. He looked around to make sure the place wasn’t a mess. As usual it wasn’t; he didn’t spend much time in the rooms of his house other than his studio and kitchen. He knew his studio was still a mess, but he wasn’t worried about cleaning it. That’s just how an artists’ studio was. To clean it was to stem his imagination, and that wasn’t something he wanted to do.

As he started into the kitchen to make sure the tea was still cold, he heard a knock at the door. He walked over and opened it to reveal Melody standing there in a simple white sundress.

“I told you that you didn’t have to get all dressed up to come over here.” He said.

“Yea well. I always wear dresses. They look nice okay?” She replied with her usual hostility then proceeded to shove past him. “So this is your house huh? I was expecting it to be bigger.”

“I have an upper and lower floor also. The upper is where I have my studio. Are you thirsty?” He asked.

“Yea. Please tell me you have something strong,” she replied.

“Strong… Like what? Coffee?”

“No, like hard cider,” she replied.

Split nearly choked. “At this time of morning?”

“Yea, well it helps me get through the day. Don’t worry, I don’t get wild or anything,” she answered in a mumble.

“Well… I guess I have some down in my cellar. I’ll go get it,” he hesitantly answered and got up.

“I’ll just stay here,” Melody mumbled. “I hate stairs.”

Split started towards the cellar. Walking towards it, he started thinking to himself. He wondered if this was just how she was; standoffish and rude. It didn’t bother him too much. He had done paintings for ponies before that, and the commissioners complained about them every step of the way. He opened the door to his cellar and stepped inside. He didn’t drink very often, but he still had a very good collection. Flipping on the light, he started checking his shelves. He spotted a bottle of 10 year old Sweet Apple Acres Select Cider and picked that. When he got back up the stairs, he noticed that Melody was sitting on his couch flipping through his photo album.

“Here’s the cider,” he said.

She looked up from the album. “All the pictures in here are of just you. What are you? A narcissist or something?”

“Well, no. I just don’t really have anybody to take pictures with.”

“So you’re telling me that Mr. Bigshot Painter can’t find a girlfriend?” She sneered.

“Something like that,” he answered.

She looked at him for a moment before saying, “Well are you gonna give me some cider or not?”

He poured her some cider and handed her the glass. She snatched the bottle instead and started to chug. He just looked at her.

After finishing off the bottle, she looked back at him. “Don’t judge me.”

“I’m not,” he answered.

“Yes you are. I know you are. I can see it in your eyes.”

He just shook his head and sat down in his chair.

“So why don’t you have any friends?” She asked bluntly.

“Well, that’s not a very nice way to put it.”

“Well it’s true. You don’t have any pictures of friends, and you were awful keen to get friendly with me, so I would guess you’re probably one lonely stallion. I don’t get why though. You’re famous!” She stated.

He smiled slightly. “Well, I guess I just don’t meet many ponies who aren’t just grubbing for social status in my line of work.”

“True. Most of the ponies who go to artsy stuff are usually just social flowers. I hate ‘em all,” she said with a grimace. “What makes you different though? You were the only person who I didn’t see in a fancy getup last night.”

“Well, I don’t like all the fancy getups.”

“But why not? You’re obviously not poor.” She said motioning around.

“I wasn’t always though. I grew up on the bad side of Manehatten. We didn’t have much money. Some things I don’t have an expensive taste for, like clothes. I never did like clothes. Kept me from running away when there was trouble.”

“But you’re a Pegasus. Doesn’t that mean you come from Cloudsdale?” Melody asked.

“Not necessarily. My father was a baker in Manehatten. Only problem was he left my mother when I was born. Never paid child support or anything, just up and left. Mom never did figure out where he went either. Just kind of vanished.”

“What about your mom?”

“She lived with me until a few years ago. Then she passed away from age.”

Melody looked at him, but showed no sympathy in her eyes. He began to wonder about her parents, but she didn’t give him a chance to ask.

“Well that’s that I guess,” she said. “Let’s go check out your studio!”

They walked over to the stairs, the entire way Split heard the clicking. He thought about asking but decided not to. She could tell him if she wanted. She looked at the stairs and sighed.

“Don’t fancy people have like, elevators or something?”

Split laughed. “Not around here. What’s wrong? Afraid of exercise?”

Melody looked at him with a look that threatened death if he continued.

Split looked at his hooves. “Sorry… Do you need some help?”

“Yea, it would be nice.”

Split lifted off of his floor and into the air, picking up Melody by her shoulders. She gave a little, “EEP” as she lifted off of the ground. He flew her to the top of the stairs and set her down.

She gave a little yelp of pain and glared at him as he dropped her to the ground.

“Did I hurt you?” He asked hastily.

“No, It’s nothing. Just be more careful next time.”

He looked at her worried but she just scowled at him, so he led onward to his studio, pushing open the door and she entered.

“Dirty enough in here?” She said while looking around.

“It’s just the way it is.”

“So what are you working on right now?” She asked.

“Well, I have been doing modern stuff for so long that I have been wanting to get back to basics. I was thinking about heading out of the city to do some nature scenes.”

“Huh,” she answered, not really interested. She looked to the back of the room and noticed a large square covered by a sheet. “What’s that?”

“Oh, that’s something I’ve been working on for a long time,” Split answered.

“Is it a secret or something?” Melody asked, now very interested.

“Not really, I just don’t have anybody to show it to. I keep it covered so the sun doesn’t fade the paint.”

“Can I see it?” she asked.

“Sure,” he responded and started moving back towards the painting. He pulled off the sheet to reveal a hill covered in grass with a tree on it. The sky was black and filled with stars. A large moon hung over the scene and seemed to spread a cool light across the entire canvas. Next to the tree was a small figure that was supposed to be Split. Melody stared at it. There was silence. Neither of them said anything for a long time.

Melody spoke first. “It’s beautiful.”

“It is,” Split responded.

“Where is it? The hill, I mean.”

“In my head. I had a dream with it in it one time. It made me feel sad, but I didn’t understand why. I still don’t. It doesn’t feel finished, so I haven’t released it yet.” He answered, “I’ve been trying to figure out what it’s missing, but I won’t release it until I do figure it out.”

She looked at it for a while more then turned away. Split put the sheet back over it and followed her. He carried her down the stairs again, and they went to sit in the living room. She kept looking at him awkwardly.

“What’s wrong?” Split asked.

“You’re just… Not what I was expecting is all,” Melody answered.

“Is that a bad thing?”

“Not at all. You’re actually much more tolerable to be around than most other ponies. Even if you aren’t very good at being a host to a house guest.”

Split snorted. “Yea, well I don’t have any friends really to practice with.”

Melody looked at him again. “I had better be going.”

“Are you sure?” Split asked. “I was just going to make some supper. You could stay if you would like.”

“No no,” she replied. “I had really better get going.” And she stood up.

Split stood up also and led her to the door. She clicked the entire way.

“Well, goodbye Melody. Thank you for visiting,” Split said.

“Split?” Melody said looking at him.

“Yes?” Split replied.

She was blushing now. A touch of pink covered her entire face.

“Ummm… I could… Well I don’t really know how to say it…”

“Go on,” Split said. “I promise I won’t get mad.”

“Nonono. It’s nothing like that. I was just gonna say that… I could always be your friend if you would like…”

       She was looking at the ground and kicking it like it owed her money.

Split stood there for a minute not sure what to say.

Finally he said “I think I would like that very much, Melody. I really think I would.”

Turquoise

Split liked his job as a painter. It allowed him to travel around the land and see lots of amazing sights. He got to meet celebrities. Attend fancy parties. And even visit the palace on occasion. The pay was excellent since he was the most famous painter in Equestria. He was also somewhat of an oddity since he had no cutie mark which made ponies even more curious about him. He got some weird looks yes but he really didn’t mind as he had grown quite used to it. He didn’t know why it was but he had learned that pushing the thoughts didn’t help to do anything besides aggravate him. He saw no reason in worrying about things that he had no control over since it didn’t serve him any purpose. Life was good.

On this particular day he was on his way to the Canterlot Art Museum’s opening of the new modern art wing that he had several paintings featured in. He had his private carriage to himself and was drinking a cold glass of cucumber juice. He sat and looked at the passing landscape. It wasn’t far to Canterlot now and he would be glad to get there and out of the cramped carriage. As he looked out the window he saw a young mare limping along in a fancy dress. She was a light grey color with a mane the color of pale roses. But just as fast as he saw her she was gone. Split sat back and thought about her for a second. He wondered why she was out by herself and why she was limping but dismissed the thought since he noticed that they were pulling up to the museum.

Hanging from the front of the building was a large banner proclaiming,

GRAND OPENING OF THE MODERN ART WING FEATURING THE WORK OF SPLIT!

Split grinned to himself as he noticed his picture on the banner as well. His broad grin on his light bluish green coat and wings, red and blue mane split down the middle, and wild red and blue tail. His black glasses sitting just below his eyes unfortunately had a glare and he wondered to himself why they had not edited it out. The carriage stopped and he opened the door and climbed out. There was a cheer from a small crowd and there were quite a few cameras snapping pictures. He smiled and waved to the gathered crowd and walked up the stairs. Inside he was met with a crowd of mares and stallions in fancy dress. He was the only one in the crowd who chose not to wear any garbs to the party and didn’t really care. Most of the people here were of the group that enjoyed putting on the ritz for almost nothing. He wasn’t like that and vied for comfort over looks. He intermingled amongst the crowd for a while until he heard a clicking noise that didn’t sound like a camera. He looked around for the source of the noise but couldn’t find it before it faded and then stopped completely. There was a tinging noise that he knew was a knife being tapped against a glass and looked up to the stage to see who was talking.

“Fillies and Gentlecolts! I would like to welcome you to the grand opening of our newest wing of the museum!” The mare on the stage said, “We have amongst us tonight the stallion who donated a large sum of money that made this all possible. He is also responsible for many of the paintings in the new wing as well as many paintings throughout the museum. Please welcome to the stage. Split!”

There was a deafening stamping of hooves and Split walked up to the stage.

“Thank you. Thank you.” Split said, “When I heard that the museum was trying to open a new wing I thought to myself, ‘Why Split! You were just thinking that you needed something new. Why not donate both money and work to put in it?’ I told the curator my idea she nearly fainted from excitement!” There was a pause while the crowd laughed. “So I got to work as did the construction team and may I just say that they put me to work trying to keep up with them! So without further ado. May I present the Modern Art Wing!” He waved his forehoof towards the new hallway and the crowd surged towards it. He opened his wings and flapped up into the air. He hovered over the crowd for a second before spotting pale red hair that looked familiar. It was the limping mare from earlier. She still had the limp and he noticed that it was worse than he originally thought. He decided to ask if she was okay, flew down, and landed besides her.

“Excuse me miss. Are you alright?” He asked.

She whipped her head around and glared angrily at him.

“Yes I am.” She snapped angrily, “And I would appreciate it if you would leave me be.” And limped away with an indignant look on her face.

Split felt like he had been slapped. What had he done wrong? He had just been trying to be helpful. Then he heard the clicking sound again. He noticed that it came whenever the mare took a step on her back left hoof and also noticed that it was the one she was limping on. He wanted to go after her and demand an apology but didn’t. Instead he just shook his head and walked behind the crowd. People milled around the art but he noticed that very few were actually paying much attention to it. They were mostly socializing and he knew that his earlier assessment of the crowd had been right. They were socialites wanting to look as elite as possible. He walked around the wing, mingling with the crowd, exchanging pleasantries, and talking about his current projects for a while before growing bored. He had seen most of the art. He had painted it himself hadn’t he? He decided to go through the rest of the museum and see if any new pieces had been donated.

The museum was dark. The lights were at the dimmest setting without being fully off but Split could still see fine. Years of painting in sunsets and during starry nights had trained his eyes to see the colors around him. He saw paintings from times long ago and places he had never heard of. He knew them still though. He had studied many of the artists. As he admired one painting of the Mare in the Moon he heard the clicking again.

Shouldn’t she be with everyone else? Split thought to himself. And started towards the noise. He found her admiring one of his paintings. It was one he had painted of the sea far to the east. She looked completely mesmerized by it. He stared at her, noticing her looks for the first time. She was quite beautiful. She had a well-kept mane that looked (and smelled) of pale roses. Her coat was a light grey that reminded him of rain clouds that had not yet reached a point of bursting. She had grey eyes that matched her coat and they sparkled in the low light.

“If you think it looks nice in the painting you should see it in person.” He said casually.

She jumped when he said it since she had not noticed him. She looked at him angrily.

“Didn’t your mother ever teach you not to sneak up on ladies in the dark?” She snapped.

Once again Split felt like he had been slapped. Was she always so aggressive?

“Sorry.” He replied, “I just saw you admiring the painting. It’s one of mine you know.”

She snorted. “I’m aware. So why are you out here Mr. famous painter? Why aren’t you in there with the rest of them?”

“Well I’ve seen most of the paintings in there enough times to know their every line by heart so I figured I would take a stroll through the rest of the place. I could tell you about some of the paintings if you would like.”

She blushed. “No need.”

Split raised an eyebrow at this. “Are you sure? It’s no problem at all.”

“I’ve been here enough to know most of the paintings like the back of my hoof.”

“Oh?” He replied. “You like art?”

She mumbled something to herself.

“I’m sorry. I couldn’t hear what you said there.” Split said.

“I said…” She said before mumbling again.

“Speak up!” Split said again.

“I SAID I LOOK AT YOU ART A LOT.” She nearly shouted before turning away.

Split stood there for a minute dumbfounded before laughing loudly. The mare turned around again looking angrier than ever.

“WHAT’S SO FUNNY!?” She demanded.

“Oh –hehehe. Just that I’ve never heard anybody so ashamed to admit they like art!” He answered, still laughing.

The mare turned around again and started to walk away. The clicking began again. Split walked next to her.

“Come on! I wasn’t trying to be rude. What’s your name?” Split asked.

“None of your damn business.” The mare snapped.

“Come on. I’ll give you a tour of my studio if you tell me.”

The mare paused at this.

“Really.” She asked.

“Yup!”

“A tour of your studio.”

“Double yup!”

“Free of charge.”

“Affirmitive!”

“Lunch included?”

“Sure. I don’t see why not.”

She thought for a minute before answering, “Fine. But it’s not a date so don’t get any ideas. My name is Melody.”

Melody, Split thought, What a lovely name for a lovely mare.