Scribblegroove

Scribblegroove Quite surprised by the frightened reaction of the mare on stage, scribblegroove rebounded a little, stepping back as the supposed magician frantically made her exit. The stage was empty, and Scribblegroove was disappointed. He wondered if the mare had some kind of stage fright, or was perhaps scared about ponies finding out the specifics of her performance before the actual show. Still, her reaction had been quite dramatic. There was to all this than he thought. The voices from the balcony had drawn his attention, and a moment later the two figures flew down to him, out of the darkness and into the light. Their sudden and brisk approach scared him a little, and yet again he backed up. "Dear, the two of you scared me a little, coming out of nowhere like that..." He admitted, somewhat embarrassed but also slightly accusing. Right at that moment Cherry entered the building and joined their conversation. Evidently she knew the two of them. Introducing Belle and making an attempt to do the same with him, but failing to remember his name, he snickered. "The name is Scribblegroove." He said, slightly aimed at Cherry, after which he turned to the stewardesses. "A pleasure to meet you too. You are correct, I came to see the the magician... Mirror, was it?" With that last question he raised a brow and looked at the back of the stage again, as if she were about to come back. "I came to see her practice. I understand that maybe we aren't supposed to see the performances before the actual show, but her reaction was a little overdone. How come she seems so nervous?" He asked.

Ivondras Zúr "The mist of the mind distracts me from my goal" A blade hissed through the air, and almost hummed with the speed and strength at which it was handled. In an empty corner of the training hall Ivondras fought with several imaginary enemies at once. His blades held high, his feet ever moving. Ducking and leaping in an utmost controlled fashion, making sure his guard was never down, he never lacked space or mobility, and most importantly, dealt as much damage to his invisible opponents with every swing of his swords. "All that matters are the teachings of the soul." In his routine he thought of nothing but the many poems and lines that he had learned many years ago. His mind was clear of all clutter, and he was utterly focused on his imaginary combat, his willpower and hatred. "My head is empty, but in furious state" He could feel their tissue collide with his blades, smell their foul blood scatter in the air around him. See their wretched and tainted souls leave their body to dissapear into the abyss for all eternity. He could hear their screams, their pleas. "I show no mercy, for I have become fate" Ending his rite, he also ended his practice. In one motion he assumed a neutral position and sheathed his blades. He then proceeded to a punching bag a few feet away. Without stopping for the slightest moment, still not breathing even slightly heavier, he started dealing punches to the bag as fast as he could, and slowly began his continuous rite again, speaking each word in between a few jabs and kicks at a time. "The mist of the mind distracts me from my goal..." He seemingly ignored everything else around him. He simply waited until he recieced new orders. As long as he had no orders he would dedicate his time to practice. Unending, mind-numbing, relentless practice.

@@SilverHeart, @@Golbez, @@Gloomfury Ever so slowly Scribblegroove went closer to the stage, quite uncertain of what to expect. There was a certain creepiness hanging in the air. He thought he heard strange whispers and muffled laughter. Even though Scribblegroove knew it was just an overreaction to the darkness, it still made him that much more hesitative. He hadn't a clue what the mare on the stage was doing, but it seemed that she wasn't exactly very deeply in thought or focused on what she was doing. But at the same time, he doubted she was waiting for something, and there was no real reason to just stand there doing nothing. "Oh come on now you're just being paranoid..." He shunned himself, and he shrugged off his unreasonable fears and coughed gently. "Excuse me?" He said, with his voice loud enough for the mare on the stage to hear, but not strong enough to frighten her as he broke the silence and her concentration, or perhaps her daydream, whatever it was that kept her ignoring him so absentmindedly. He raised his hoof as a greeting "I..." He paused for a moment, even though he began the syllable quite confidently, it died off slowly. Thinking of what exactly he should say, he continued. "I'm a guest of Prince Blueblood's... Red Cask told me a magician would be practicing here at this hour. I reckon that's you?" A slight, comforting smile grew on his face, though he wasn't too sure about himself. Just then he saw the two pairs of eyes up on the balcony. They were looking down at him, and he realised they were the ones who had been laughing and whispering. He frowned slightly as he glanced in their direction, but he decided to ignore them for now. But as soon as he looked away, he turned his head and looked again, this time squinting his eyes a little. Those were two strangely familliar sets of eyes... Yet so odd. And he thought he recognised their strange laughter as well. A slight feeling of fear grew on Scribblegroove, but as long as he remained in the light he felt safe enough. He shrugged his fears off yet again, but this time not as confidently as he was used to.

Scribblegroove @@SilverHeart, Even though the theatre had lost most of it's former glory, some of it's beauty had been retained and perhaps even been improved by the visible age of it. It gave him the idea that he was entering a building with a history and character, even though he could be completely wrong and this was just a hovel, abandoned by the ponies of Bloodwell, unpreserved as time had slowly taken over the marvellous piece of architecture. Inside, he couldn't make out a lot of the theatre, since it was very badly lit in both the hall as the theatre itself. Only on the stage he could make out a single figure. Slowly moving through the darkness, Scribblegroove silently walked up a few rows to the stage until he could make out what was going on stage clearly enough. He wasn't quite sure if the pony on stage was in the middle of a recital or if there was simply nothing going on at the moment. Deciding to wait until something happened, Scribblegroove took a seat in one of the middle rows, right next to a pathway closer towards the stage. At a reasonable enough distance to not be a distrubance, and perhaps to not even be noticed, but close enough to see what was going on. Curious, but a little hesitative, he watched.

Scribblegroove As far as he could tell, nopony was interested in joining him to have a look at the theatre. At least, nopony had voiced their curiosity about the place, so he simply assumed he was the only one that wanted to head there. A little dissapointed, but far from discouraged, Scribblegroove made his way to the alleyway that lead to the theatre according to the map. It was straight ahead, and he could already see it, so he would have to be blind to get lost on his way there. The small alleyway made him think of Canterlot's suburbs. Since the not all the buildlings were fully restored it fit fairly well with that comparison. Looking behind himself, he saw the others making their own plans and heading off. Since their host and his servants had already gone through an extensive amount of trouble to get him here and keep him comfortable, he reckoned that if he was supposed to be somewhere at an appointed time, he'd be collected from whereever he was at that given moment. After all, Red Cask should've mentioned it if he were supposed to show up by himself. There was only the curfiew, and that was hours away. Being mostly alone, Scribblegroove slipped back in his usual pattern. Slowly, a song drifted into his mind. Adjusted to his what somewhat sombre surroundings, of somewhat worn buildings, and the thoughts displacement and otherwordlyness. That he was so focefully removed from his day-to-day business by this royal who demanded him to be in this weird ghost-town for some reason. Of course, he'd rather be somewhere else, but at the same time this place seemed interesting. With that thought in his mind, his steps slowly started to synchronise with a morose melody. http://grooveshark.com/#!/s/Dear+Prudence/35FsaP?src=5 Gently bobbing his head to the beat, he felt the symptoms of his sickness return very slowly and gradually. Again he felt lightheaded, and he had difficulty breathing. "I wish Bittersweet had come along... I really thought she would come along..." A bit disgruntled by his incorrect predction, he wondered what was going on in Bittersweets' head. "She hadn't really spoken with anypony else, and she seemed quite affectionate... But perhaps Emerald's aura had a more powerful impression onto her than onto me..." After all, he too had been tempted to follow Emerald to the library. But he was somehow a little afraid of that mare. She seemed like the kind that could look straight into his mind with the slightest amount of information. He didn't like to be around those who could analyse everything. He himself did it quite often, and to think that others would be doing that with him was terrifying enough. But ponies who were actually good at it, and made it their job... It just gave him the shivers. The rest of the ponies were a strange bunch as well. Ranging from very unapproachable to unavoidable, the last of whom he had encountered up close. He hadn't really gotten the time to meet them though, and making assumptions on such little information was futile attempt at getting a hold on the entire situation. His knowledge on his companions would expand with time. Hopefully some of them were as interesting as Sunset, Bittersweet and Emerald had seemed in the short time he had had the pleasure of conversing with them. Finally he had made his way to the entrance of the theatre. He stood in front of it, observing the outside for a while. Unbeknownst to him, the music that he had been imagining in his mind had started playing through the magic of his horn subconsciously. It wasn't uncommon, but it usually happened when he was alone and his thoughts weren't interrupted by others. He didn't notice it however, immersed as he was with the music. The notes drifted away in the soft breeze that blew through the streets. Not loud enough to be heard from a block away, but significant enough to be distinguished from the general noise of the town from a few hoofsteps away.

@@FirstPonySpectre As Scribblegroove had hoped, Bittersweet was curious about what he had casually mentioned. His personal 'trademark' spell was something he was most proud of, and very keen to show off. Still, he knew that it wouldn't be a very good idea to just start casting spells for no reason in front of everypony. It might frighten or surprise some of them, and he definitely didn't want to bother anypony. However, he knew that there would come a time where he'd get to present his skills eventually. After all, as an entertainer and performer, that was what he enjoyed most. But for now, a brief but detailed explanation had to suffice: "My spell means that I can project anything that I can imagine in my mind onto reality through magic." He started, gesturing with his forehooves to the open air of the carriage. Frowning his eyebrows slightly, he continued. "It's quite a difficult spell, and it only translates part of your consciousness. Theres a lot of focus required, and up until now I've only been able to teach it to two others, and those were far more proficient at magic than I was." He remembered the peculiar pair at his school. The self-proclaimed 'prize students' of their small class came to him all humble and courteously tried to seduce him into sharing his spell with them. And he did, but that didn't mean they had been satisfied with the results. After all, besides talent in magic, talent in music was required for the spell to produce actual music, and not peculiar sounding shrieks and the general humming of vibrating air-molecules. "It feels like playing an instrument. It simply requires a lot of practice to master the spell..." He explained very enthusiastically. "It's been inspired by several others spells that I have studied... but I wouldn't want to bore you with the theoretical specifications. Most simply said, I can open up my mind to the outside world and let anypony tune it to the music that I'm composing in my head." With an intense and poignant tone in his voice, he concluded the small digression about his spell. "My spell has been very useful through means of composition and solo-performance, I feel it cannot match the true engaging spirit and vibrant sound of a real instrument. A physical object that produces the most beautiful sounds at the hooves of a skilled mucisian has always compelled me much more than the musical projections which I practice." He snickered and reseated himself as to assume a more comfortable position. "I would apologise for rambling there, but we've both been doing that since the start of our conversation. We wouldn't want to turn it into a habit, now would we?" Giving her an apologetic look, but at the same time smiling a bit crudely, he added one last statement. "And even though I'm quite prone to bragging, neither of us should restrain ourselves from speaking about what we are passionate about. The world would turn into a grim and boring place if nopony would express themselves for the sake of conformity... So please, do ramble about DJ-Pon3 and your undeniable talents in the arts of alchemy. I wouldn't want it any other way." And with that, he silenced himself for a while, having spoken more than enough for the time being. Watching Bittersweet and Emerald converse and find similar areas of interest made him smile a little, though Emerald had this general sense of having her very own and very well thought-out reasons for almost every question she asked. Her interest in Bittersweet's talents as well as Sunset's candles were more than just casual chatter, or at least so he presumed. Not that he was paranoid, or had something to fear from her, but he had some experience with her kind. Not much, but enough to know that there was something more going on behind those soft and conforming but piercing eyes... Slowly the cart rolled back into the light, and Scribblegroove felt like he had just entered a fortress. The tall and ominous trees behind him were it's walls, and the town in front of them was the inner quarter, with the great mountain as it's citadel. To some degree it was a fortress too. He imagined what Bloodwell would've looked like if I had met the same investment and growth as some of the great cities like Canterlot or Manehatten. This was quite a strategically superior location for a fortress. Though sadly, the mere metaphor had to do. In fact, he noticed the town of Bloodwell hadn't met a lot of investment at all, as was indicated by some of the unrestored buildings. This town felt a bit odd in two ways. It was both a fake and a ghost town. Fake in the sense that it seemed underpopulated and underemployed, but due to the new resort opening quite overworked and refined in the areas that had been restored, whilst in the segments that hadn't been reconstructed yet it seemed almost deserted. It was a small town undergoing a grand change, and it all seemed a bit off to Scribblegroove. At the point of arrival, their group was introduced to the town by a stallion named Red Cask, who gave them a small explanatory speech, as to inform them of all the possibilities and restrictions of their stay at the resort. This speech was quite quickly lost on Scribblegroove however, since his attention was lost immediately, only to be drawn back to the theatre as soon as it was mentioned. Without hesitation he decided where he'd go first. "Well, I'm heading for the theatre to check out what that's all about. Perhaps meet the struggling magician that was mentioned. I wouldn't mind going by myself, but if anypony wishes to join me before they drop of their goods at their appropriate quarters you'd be more than welcome." He exclaimed in a determined fashion.

As he was talking with Bittersweet, a little bit of a tense situation developed in the other section of the carriage. It had something to do with fire, candles and a pony named Shadowhide, but he couldn't be bothered too much with that. With a bit of a smirk on his face he listened to Bittersweets' story and unnescesary apologies for, what seemed to her, bragging. "You should see my teachers talk about their skills and performances... You should see ME brag about my skills and performances!" He thought to himself. He was about to reply to Bittersweet after her short but intense inner, or moreso outer argument with herself, when he noticed something outside. As Wagon Wheel announced that he was going to clear the way in front of the carriage, he noticed something as he glanced past Bittersweet. There was something in the bushes, hiding behind the trees. He squinted his eyes to see, but he couldn't really make out what it was in the dim light of the lanterns. But suddendly, he came to a spine shivering realization. "Are those... Foals? Playing outside?" He was quite confused. What would two little foals be doing in this dark and dangerous forest? At first, they didn't seem to notice the carriage stopping on the road. But eventually, the ceased their playfulness and started inspecting the carriage. Completely obsessed with their mysterious appearance, he stared back at them. They were quite pale, but the light was too dim to make out any features. He squinted his eyes further and streched his neck to see more clearly... Both of the foals stared straight at him... He could vaguely see their eyes. Wide open. Vacant. Terrifying. He gasped and sat down, looking at the other side of the carriage, pointing his eyes as far away form the chilling thought of those two little foals in the darkness... Staring at him. He exhaled. Looking to his side, he noticed the cart had begun moving again, and the foals were out of sight. He felt relatively safe again, but only now he noticed that his heart was pounding as if he had just ran an entire marathon. The adrenaline that had surged through his veins just a moment ago wore off. "I'm sorry..." He said to Bittersweet, who must've noticed his odd reaction. He pulled his hoof through his hair nervously. "I saw something... Odd... Outside. But I'm sure it's just a figment of my own imagination. I'm quite easily scared." He admitted softly. "That's why I'd rather not have any ghost stories, thank you..." He added with a slightly louder voice, looking sternly at Dove, the mare who had proposed the idea. "Call me a wuss, but I really don't appreciate anything more frightening than my monthly rental bill." Even though he usually avoided talking about his job, because he couldn't shut up once he got started, Bittersweet had asked for it, and Scribblegroove would do nothing rather than comply to her gracious request. "I'm a muscisian!" He announced enthusiastically. Grabbing his saddlebags, he retrieved some of his prescious works from it. "A composer, really, though I play a lot of instruments as well." He stated. Putting back all sheets but one into his saddlebag, he placed the piece of paper on his lap. The title read 'Windy City'. "I'm about reknown enough in Canterlot to sustain a reasonable living from performances, but outside of Canterlot only a small peer group of Jazz fanatics has heard of me." He grinned, and with a hint of snobishness and arrogance he added. "I usually play nothing but Jazz." As much as he already passed himself off as quite arrogant, he continued his rather well-phrased presentation of skill. "I garned most of my fame because I invented a new spell though. I studied at the School for Gifted Unicorns, but I can't say I graduated with a lot of high grades." He snickered and raised an eyebrow at that previous comment. It was the honest truth. He had studied at one of the most prestegious schools in Equestria, and had completely blown his chance at a high degree in magic by being lazy. He didn't care enough to feel regretful about it though. Shrugging his shoulders, he continued. "But like I said, I did create a spell that allows me to conjure magic from thin air!" He announced proudly as he tapped his horn. He was tempted to show her immediately, but he was afraid that it might interrupt other's conversations, and it might draw a lot of attention to them. Not that he didn't like being in the centre of attention, but Bittersweet would definitely not enjoy it. If she asked for it however... He then decided not to ramble on any longer. He'd probably bore this mare to death if he continued. He asked her a question instead. "But you have an apothecary in Ponyville! I don't remember there being any last time I was there. Have you opened it recently or was I simply unaware. You must get a lot of visitors because there aren't any other apothercaries as far as I know."

As Cherry climbed through the window right next to him, he saw his own mucus dangling in her mana again. Wondering if he should say something, he wanted to stop her and mention it, but she was so determined to get to her seat that he didn't really get the time to do so. At any rate, it would come back to him eventually, and he'd deal with it when it did. He coughed discreetly and just let her move past, trying not to look at her mane again but looking somewhere else instead. Remembering what Bittersweet had said, he emptied some of the vial's contents in his mouth and started chewing. Though the taste wasn't very pleasurable, he could manage, and the effects were nearly immediately noticable. Breathing in through his nose, which at first made a grumbling, snorting nosie, but quickly silenced itself and turned into a healthy, silent flow of air into his lungs. He blinked a few times, and sighed as he chewed. @@FirstPonySpectre "Ah... Much better..." He said, feeling relieved of both his headache and his clogged nose. Right at that moment he heard a shout from next to him. It was Bittersweet, who clearly tried to join conversation with the others, but didn't quite manage to do it very subtly. "Oh dear..." He thought as he looked at her facial expression and body language, which indicated total shock and embarassment. "Hey, calm down now." He said a bit awkwardly as he turned towards her, leaving Sunset and Emerald to talk between the two of them. "My name is Scribblegroove." He said, softly but with an encouraging tone in his voice. "Sorry for not introducing myself earlier, that was incredibly rude of me." He added. Giving her back the remainder of the powder, placing it right in her hoof, he smiled. "Thank you again for this. It helped a lot. I wonder how it comes that you have this on you. Are you an alchemist, perhaps? Or a pharmacologist?" He asked innocently, though he wasn't stupid. Considering her cutie mark, which was clearly a show globe, anypony who knew what it was would've guessed it immediately. "If that's the case you're really good because I feel completely healthy!" He lied a little there. He still knew and felt he was sick, but the real discomfort and pain had gone. Only a slight lightheadedness and the general sense of being feverish remained. Even though he had only just met this mare he felt quite sorry for her. It seemed she had a fear of strangers, or perhaps large groups. But clearly she was trying very badly to socialise, and it was unfair that nopony paid attention to that. Around them, it slowly got darker, and a sense of cozyness and at the same time fear came over Scribblegroove. Looking outside, he could barely see the trees that stood around the carriage. "Perhaps we have just entered a void of nothingness and this is all an illusion." he thought jokingly, but the fear was real. Suddenly, the outside lit up, and he could see the forest again. As eerily as it looked, he was a lot less fearful of things looking creepy than of the darkness. He exhaled, and only then he realised he had been holding his breath. Slightly embarassed that he still had such a puerile phobia as fear of the dark, he looked around, hoping that nopony had noticed. In the badly lit carriage he could see the faces of all the other ponies only slightly. A mare further in the back mentioned ghost stories... He shivered. "Oh by Celestia please no..." he whispered, and then he snickered silently at his own preposterous fears.

You motherf- Well, you managed to fool me with that XD and to think I was starting to feel all excited for you :c This is actually hillarious. Have a brohoof

Scribblegroove At last the last of the invited ponies showed up. She seemed nice enough, but she quickly joined conversation in another subgroup within the carriage. As the two mares he was talking with himself continued the subject of enchanted candles, a different mare, who he had seen entering earlier, the one with the blue mane and the pink coat, approached him, announcing that she had a remedy for his sickness. @FirstPonySpectre "Really!? That would be amazing! One of the doctors in canterlot just told me to wait for it to blow over, but if you can help me get better I'd be incredibly thankful." Scribblegroove couldn't be happier. The headache, the runny nose and the coughing had been tormenting him for about a week now. If she was some kind of alchemist that could help him with one of her wonder brews then he'd finally get to enjoy himself again. Right now this all felt like an inconvenience as he slowly grew sicker. She had put down the vial next to him. Apparently this mare was either quite shy, or was somehow scared of him. Hoping it wasn't the latter, he tried to comfort her with a smile. "So uhh..." He stammered as he picked up the vial of powder. "Do I inhale this, or eat it? I'm not entirely sure how this works." now it was his time to blush. He felt like an idiot not knowing how to use a simple medicine like this, but in all honesty he hadn't really been sick a lot before. It was all a bit of a strange experience to him, being sick like this. @Windbreaker He noticed another mare, which was Poppy Seed, speaking up to the newcomer. Though he didn't hear exactly what she said to Dove, he did hear her words of encouragement to the timid-looking mare in front of him. Gesturing to her with his hoof, he raised a brow at Bittersweet. "She's absolutely right. You look really tense, but there's no need for that. Why don't you sit down with us here." He said, tapping his hoof on the open space next to him."If you want to that is." He added, hoping not to come off as pushy. He just wanted to help her come out of her shell a little. He couldn't image that she'd enjoy herself if she sat all alone back in the carriage. After he said that, the Coachmaster announced that they were departing. He also explained in a routines fashion how exquisite and refined this carriage was, probably to make them all realize how privileged they were. He rolled with his eyes, but didn't say anything, yet again because of his current situation. Being sick and tired didn't really help you make witty comments. @Midnight Scribbler Returning to the conversation he was having with Sunset and Emerald, Scribblegroove was just as interested in those candles as Emerald was. "So when you enchant those candles, do you weave the spell into them as you create them, or is it something you do afterwards and can also apply other objects? I wouldn't know. I once enchanted a piece of bread to fall on the unbuttered side..." He snickered, staring out of the window a bit vacantly while his thoughts were drifting off into his memories. He shrugged. "That was about the best I could do under the guide of the 'great' teachers at the SfGU. Not that I really tried..." It was only after saying that when he realized that he might just said something incredibly arrogant. He hoped none of the others would pay it much thought, but otherwise he could explain himself later. "But Emerald is right, maybe we should discuss such things later. I'm terribly interested what possibilities it has to offer." Unliked Emerald, Scribblegroove had a marketing plan in mind that might just bring him the fake that he had been looking for these past few years.

Silently spectating the situation that developed in front of him, Scribblegroove tried to pick up as much of the conversation as he could. Some of the ponies that had joined them hadn't introduced themselves yet, but he was certain that if he didn't get to meet them here in the carriage, he'd get to talk to them in the resort at some point. Two of them had separated themselves from the rest and were speaking silently in the back of the vehicle. He didn't mind it much. Some people didn't have any need for social interaction, and certainly not with strangers. It was good that the two of them got to talk to eachother. Both of them seemed rather negative. And two negatives usually make one positive! "A math joke... Since when do I do math jokes? A pink coated and blue maned mare seemed to have chosen solitude as well, though perhaps she had been slightly intimidated by the lot of them already conversing as if this were a cozy bar. Hopefully she wouldn't stay discouraged from joining their chattering for long, but he wasn't one to push such things. It would come with time. Yet another mare, who rather strangely introduced herself through writing, seemed to be quite nervous and was paying a lot of attention to Emerald Gaze. And she wasn't the only one. All eyes were on her, including his. But she didn't seem to falter in the spotlights. "As a diplomat she must be used to these kind of things..." Right now however he noticed that the subject had changed to his hometown. It couldn't hurt to share his thoughts with the others as they discussed their eachother's origins. "I'm from Canterlot as well! Definitely one of the most beautiful cities in Equestria. The only negative thing I can think of is the wind razing through the streets sometimes. Since it's so high up the mountain it can get quite chilly and windy up there in certain alleyways." He explained enthusiastically. Grabbing one of his bags, he opened it and started searching through the several sheets in there. "I even think I wrote a song about it a long time ago. It must be in here somewhere..." He mumbled, quickly scanning through all his music, each piece of paper scribbled full with little balls of music notes, and tiny lines of direction notes and dynamic notes. Suddendly, he felt an awful sneeze coming up. "-uuh... UAAH-" he quickly grabbed a handkerchief from the bag he already had conveniently opened up in his bag, turned around and, "CHOO", sneezed into it, safely catching all the infectious material in the piece of cloth. "I am so terribly sorry. I usually don't get this sick. It's been like this for a while now and I hope it will be over soon. Don't want to get any of you guys sick as well." he said with an apologetic look on his face. Carefully folding the handkerchief and putting it back in his bag, he looked at Sunset Glow seated in front of him. "Enchanted candles? You make those? That sounds like artisan enchantment to me! Where did you learn to do that? A school, or perhaps a family member?" He laughed and thought back of his days at school. "All I remember is that I simply awful at enchantment. I could just never get it right." He explained, not stopping to think that he hadn't put any part of his anecdote in context. "And a royal diplomat! This must be daily business to you!" He gestured to their surroundings with both his forehooves. "You must travel around in royal carriages all the time!" He stated, though it still suggested a question.

Watching a black coated mare with stunning green eyes near the carriage, it was his turn to be caught off guard. The appearance of this particular lady had entranced him a little. At the least you could say she was a precense that demanded all attention. So in the short pause between his greeting and the red mare's reply, he had almost forgotten about her entirely. Looking up from the black mare outside he turned his head to the sound of Sunset Glow's voice. "Not at all." He said, after taking a short moment to remember how exactly their conversation had started. He smiled briefly. "I think I would've been just as immersed and focused in your place." Right as he ended his sentence the black mare entered the vehicle and greeted them. He muttered a good morning back at her, but was a little intimidated, but most of all embarrassed by her appearance. Unlike her attire, jewelry and general physique, Scribblegroove sat there like a bag of potatoes, with a snotty nose, an ugly scarf and slightly bloodshot eyes paranoidly guarding his simple leather bags. He was usually a part of this high sosciety nonsense, but now he somehow felt out of place. Just as those thoughts went through his mind another mare came in, silently taking her seat but not before silently judging the lot of them. He watched her briefly, and she replied that glare. She thought something of him already, that was certain. Soon after her came an agitated stallion who had apparently neglected to bring his invitation. Even though it was his own foolish mistake, he was worried for him. The consequences of not getting on this carriage were quite severe. Luckily the silent mare came to the rescue, apparently knowing the stallion, who later introduced himself as Aero Wind and his female companion as Shadowhide. "Fitting name...", he thought. Then yet another mare boarded, and she greeted them with a warm voice and a smile. "Congratulations Scribbles, you'be selected the perfect day to show up looking horrid." he thought as the number of gorgeous mares increased, feeling more and more embarrassed. Though in the end he didn't care that much. He was sick after all, it was not like he could help it.... Yet again turning his attention to the mare who had just introduced herself, he tried to put a smile on his face again. Introducing himself, he hoped that she, or one of the other's recognized his name. After all in and around Canterlot he had been relatively famous as a musician. The small peer group of his genre often made sure that he wasn't as famous as he hoped to be, and since he was a small-time, still learning performer he usually got his hopes up for no reason. "The name is Scribblegroove. Pleased to make your acquain-" he was interrupted by a loud voice which seemingly came from outside, above the carriage. Looking out of the window he dodged back in surprise as he saw the pegasus floating upside down in front of him. And his surprise was increased even further as she loudly started introducing herself and began chattering a tad bit childishly, accompanied by some severe mood swings. He would be annoyed by this behaviour, and normally he would've said something stingy about it as well, but for some reason Cherry Bomb's enthusiasm was humorous to him, and he couldn't help but snicker slightly at her display of sheer excitement. His thoughts quickly changed however, because Cherry Bomb proceeded to hug him without warning, which took him completely by surprise. First of all because he wasn't used to this level of intimacy from a total stranger and definitely not from a mare, and secondly because he clearly had a cold, and he would've thought that with his appearance anypony would've had second thoughts about hugging him. So after an awkward few second in which he had absolutely no idea what to do, she finally let go. To his despair he could see a slight smude of his own snot stuck in Cherry Bombs mane. Now he was so terribly embarrassed that he didn't know what say. He simply looked around the carriage, blushing. He got hold of himself rather quickly however, realizing he must look like a moron. He coughed gently in his elbow, making sure not to spread his disease by spraying the bacteria around into the open air of the carriage, but rather in someplace where they wouldn't bother anypony else, and decided to pass the entire thing off jokingly. "Well clearly I can't possibly be as excited as you are." He said, grinning a bit awkwardly and hoping to Celestia that nopony saw the bit of disgusting snot that was now unkowingly stuck in Cherry Bombs hair.

Scribblegroove Taking a moment to stand in the first shimmering rays of sunlight as it’s glowing origin slowly ascended from the horizon, greatening the distance it had made from the edge of the world further and further with the minute, Scribblegroove tried to enjoy the bits of warmth on his skin, and sighed. Early morning was far too cold for his doing. He didn’t exactly look forward to a ride in a draughty coach in the frigid air of young day. He was already sick, and he definitely wouldn’t want to make it worse. However, the time he’d get to recover if he didn’t show up, which was 2 years, was quite exorbitant. So he’d rather persist in the face of a cold night and a terrible headache than suffer in prison for two years. Tossing his scarf over his shoulder once more, he moved on, bidding the sun goodbye. Not far down the road there was a carriage. Quite obviously it was the carriage that was supposed to take him to his destination. It was to his pleasant surprise one of the most luxurious carriages he’d ever seen. “My grumpiness is getting the best of me…” He thought as he approached the ostentatious and pristine vehicle. Who was he to assume that stallion of royalty like Blueblood wouldn’t take excellent care of his guests? His expectations had indeed been influenced by his mood, because now that they had been overpassed in extreme fashion, a smile appeared on his face. “No draughty carriages for me… No sir!” However, he did frown slightly at the sight of it, because it was that carriage that would take him to the so-called ‘resort’ that he’d get to ‘enjoy’ for the next couple of weeks. The moment he had gotten the letter he was already suspicious. He wasn’t very familiar with royalty, but wasn’t quite fond of them either. But now they invited him to this golden cage, with an aire of narcissism and a threat to top it all off. He’d be offended by the lot of it, but in all honesty he could use a vacation right now, as obscure as this one may seem. He wasn’t at his healthiest and could use some time to relax, and since he didn’t have to pay a single bit for this trip his financial status wouldn’t be affected. So even though he didn’t entirely trust the situation, he walked up to the coach master, retrieving his invitation from the saddlebags on his back and showed it. “I’ll keep my bags with me, thank you…” He added when he looked up at the rack on top of the carriage. As paranoid as it would seem, they’d have to tear his work from his cold dead hooves. With a sense of both excitement and dread, but most of all capitulation, he entered the carriage. Apparently he wasn’t the first to arrive. A mare had entered the carriage before him. She was currently reading a book, and that gave Scribblegroove the impression that she wasn’t up for friendly conversation. However, he was quite curious about her opinion on this unusual situation, so he decided to take seat across to her and simply say. “Good evening…” If she felt like talking it would be up to her to initiate conversation. He then started to look out of the window, watching the others approach the carriage. Watching the sun ever so slowly go up. It gave him quite a melancholic feeling.

"So I was standing there at the congress and this pompous arrogant jerk named Filthy Rich comes up to me talking about an 'investment'. But I wasn't so easily fooled! I knew what he thought..." The sound of her sister rambling to her left slowly faded from her consciousness as they walked out of the store. It blended with the ambient noise of the city, and as long as she nodded once in a while and laughed when Violet did, her sister wouldn't be offended. The two mares, one carrying a whole load of shopping bags by making them float through the air, adorned with a new piece of jewelry around her neck and a brand new purse that was, according to Violet, fabulous. The other merely wearing a dark and light blue striped scarf around her neck, as a mandatory new addition to her meager wardrobe. "If you're going to go shopping you've got to but something!" her sister's voice still resonating through her head. When she came to canterlot to meet her sister their initial plan was to go around canterlot sightseeing, so her sister could show her around a little. It quickly descended to a shopping rampage however. Because once Violet spots one cute thing, a streak of completely unescesesary luxury items would follow. And Streamsung was stuck with her. Not that she minded it that much. She knew her sister well enough that it was bound to happen eventually. As they walked she dreamily looked around the street, waiting for Violet to once again squeal in excitement, running off to the next shop where she knew she could find 'this one cute outfit she wanted her to try', or something in similar fashion. However, it was her who looked up with amazement in her eyes before her sister got the chance to drag her to the next store. Across the street, a few houses away, a small crowd was gathered. There was a street artist over there, she could tell that much from here. She sped off, leaving her sister in confusion, wondering if her story hadn't been that interesting after all. When she got closer, she could just see the griffon conjure a dove out of nowhere. "A magician!" she thought, and she gasped with the crowd around her as it flew off into the sky. She smiled in amazement, and wondered what the griffon was planning to do next. She had only seen a griffon once or twice, and from those experiences, reinforced by tales told by friend whose friends had a relative who had met griffons, they were a tad fierce, and at times aggressive. But this one seemed terribly friendly, with a smile on his face as he showed a few foals a card trick. The bystanders watched in awe at the display of raw skills as he deftly moved the cards from one claw to another, his talons moving almost too fast to follow. She was enchanted just as much as the rest of them. She loved street artists like these. Laughing at the reactions of the little foals, she watched the griffon closely, hoping to figure out the secrets behind his tricks.

Little tip, perhaps the first best thing you should learn on the forum, if you want to mention someone so that they get a notification, you select a part if their post or text, and then click the @mention button. You can also use this method to quote a specific segment of someone's post You can also use the code, which is [member='someone's name') <with that last bracket being squared as well

@Jazzabel Troy Oh boy, another Dutch on the forum, and she's a graphic designer!? Don't see that a lot on the forum. Welcome aboard. I'm sure you'll find lots of help for your new project here! Everyone is very helpful and friendly :3

The searing heat of the sun beamed down upon the blue coated necks of two ponies going down the street. One of them, a Pegasus, was lazily floating in the air, trying to cope with the heat that he was absolutely not used to. An expression of boredom on his face and his limbs dragging behind him motionlessly indicated that he was tired to no end. “Why of all places did we decide to go here? It feels like I’m flying across the surface of the sun!” He exclaimed, complaining to his sister, who was walking beside her with a smile on her face, the heat apparently not causing her any trouble. “Gale, it was your idea, and it was a good one at that.” She raised an eyebrow at her brother and smirked. “Just because you don’t like having to do anything at all on Monday doesn’t mean this was a bad idea…” Straightening himself in the air and bracing himself, Gale dropped to the ground and frowned. “I don’t remember my idea including having to stand up at 6 AM to take an unbearably early train ride here. We could’ve done this next week.” Looking up at the sky, he rubbed the sweat off his brow. “I’m certain the weather would’ve been better…” With a sigh, he lowered his head in defeat and followed his sister as she strode onward. Unlike her brother, Flare did pay attention to her surroundings. She had never been in Appleanta before, so she took the opportunity to take as much of it in as she could. Ignoring her brother’s complaining, she increased pace as she noticed the building that they were looking for. “There it is!” She said, as she skittered to a halt at the end of the pavement. Across the street was the Appleanta university. “Right, so the plan…” She muttred as she looked around to find her brother, noticing he was still behind her, saunting his way towards her, she groaned. “Come on, you got plenty of sleep last night…” She said. Her brother grinned slyly at her, having finally caught up. “No, you got plenty of sleep last night… I was out with a few of the guys.” He yawned, and stretched his neck, and subsequently his shoulders, folding his wings in and out a few times. Flare rolled her eyes "Well that's your fault then..." She grumbled. Impatiently tapping her hoof on the ground, Gale gave her a confused look until he realized what she was waiting for. "Oh, yeah... Uh." Opening his eyelids wider, trying to get the sleep out of his system, he scratched his head. "Well have to be looking for somepony called Solid Green. He's the main contact if you want to receive funding from the Appleanta university." Staring a bit absentmindedly at the building across the street, he shrugged. "He's got to be in there somewhere. I contacted him last Saturday and he told us to ask for him in the hall an day between Monday and Thu-" Interrupted by her sister who lifted her hoof and listened attentively, she followed her gaze towards one of the automobiles standing still in front of a light nearby. Seeing her ears piqued and pointed, he realized it wasn't the car, but the sound that come from it that caught her attention, but he realized it too late as the car just sped off as he started to listen. "Did you hear that?" Flare asked her brother, a bit agitated. Her brother shrugged. "Did you hear what the radio in that car announced?" She exclaimed, now almost in panic. "No!? What are you talking about?" Without warning, Flare ran off, dodging the ponies walking in the other direction, going straight for the entrance of the subway station a few yards away. Surprised, Gale took off and followed her through the air, making sure he didn't fly into any signs or lampposts, swerving down to the ground once he was above his sister, landing next to her and running alongside her, down the stairs and into the station. "What's the matter with you!?" He managed to utter in between gasps for air. Without hesitation Flare ran through the turnstiles, quickly swiping her card that she had used earlier that day. Unlike his sister, Gale wasn't wearing his saddlebags. From somewhere within the folds of his wings he retrieved his card. Fumbling it for a few seconds, he took quite a long time to get through the turnstiles, and because of this he lost track of Flare, who wouldn't wait for him. When he finally did get through, the situation quickly became more clear to him. Flare couldn't believe her eyes. A train derailing? Injuries ranging into the hundreds? It was a total disaster. With fearful, large eyes she watched the screen, he teeth clenched. All she could think of was the nightmare she had had for years now. "Gale..." She said, not taking her eyes of the screen. When she realized he wasn't nearby anymore, she turned around. At the same time their eyes met, and once Gale found her he went towards her. Gale was shocked as well, but when he looked at Flare, he knew what was going through her mind. "Gale, do you think-" Gale raised his hoof and frowned. "Don't be ridiculous. What we did was years ago, and the chances that that particular engine was still in use and in that specific train is tiny..." Flare bit her lip, and looked back at the screen. "But what if it was?" She said timidly. Gale sighed and gave her a sympathetic look. "Then it's not our responsibility." And with that he put an end to it, passing it off as her sister overreacting. Years ago, when the two of them were only foals, the of them had boosted a train engine to more than three times its power. It was almost accidental, and the two of them were terribly inexperienced, but they had never told anypony besides their mother about their endeavor. But ever since the machinist found out about the engine's increased power, it had been passed on and on to different models, each new owner selling it to the next promising it's "magical properties". Flare has had nightmares of terrible accidents happening due to their irresponsible behavior ever since. Gale has always passed it off as ridiculous, but Flare took her worries very seriously. "What do we do now?" Flare whispered. It seemed as if she was about to cry, and Gale knew that if it wouldn't happen now, it would happen later eventually, knowing that his sister wasn't great with handling emotional stress. "Let's go, this place will simply depress you even further." With a quivering sigh, Flare walked backwards and started to follow her brother back outside. Once they were in the open air again, Gale urged her sister to sit down for a moment on a bench. As she took care of herself and her thoughts for a moment, Gale looked around. In the distance, a few blocks away, he could see the university. He wasn't so sure if they were still going to get anything done today with this disaster disrupting everyponies' average day routine. It would be one giant hen house in there, with ponies going from place to place, shouting at each other, attempting to get information on relatives that might've been on the train... Nothing to be done. @@Driz Next to them, on their side of the street, there were a few establishments. Since it was still early morning, many of them still weren't open. He wondered if any of them would open today. Probably, but they wouldn't get many visitors. Then he saw one mare approaching 'tropicala goods', about a yard away. "Well, she's starting early." Wondering if she heard about the train derailment, he approached her. "Excuse me?" He said, trying to remain as formal as possible. "I don't mean to bother you, but I wondered if you heard the news?" He put up quite a serious face and frowned lightly. "About the derailment?" In the meantime, Flare was attempting not to draw attention to her from the ponies passing by and the mare Gale was talking to. Deeply consumed in thought, she went by all the steps of chance and logic to reason how big the chance was that this accident was her responsibility. As far as she knew now, the chance was 0.008532, and as she thought it was still going down. But a mere number couldn't numb the distraught in her mind. She was still worried.

Well at least you'll look preposterous fabulous in unity and togetherness. :3

Buckle your pants fellas. They might drop down in sheer amazement of what is to come... 3000 dollars is a lot... I'm quite sad I cannot donate myself. It's amazing what everyone has done.